#not pretending anymore

[oneshotnewbie]

Jen!! So are you going to admit that you're hopelessly in love with Allie or?? 👀

Hmm… well, if you think I’m acting like I’m in love, maybe that’s because this precious woman makes it hard to pretend otherwise...

-Jen

[calicorobin]

beanbag chair psychology

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Zero Gravity

Things Justice League knows about Danny Phantom:

He's dead (why, how, and for how long is unclear)

He's generally on the 'good' side (but contingency plans have been set up in case of 'future evil self' resurfacing, by Danny's own suggestion)

He's a figure of authority among other dead/neverborn/otherworldly/eldritch/magical beings (however, it's unclear to what kind of authority he holds and why)

He's dating one of the Bats (unclear to who, but none of them confirmed nor denied the fact, which is a confirmation on its own)

He absolutely hates only three things: toast, circus, and Christmas (neither of them explained)

His powerset is so wide that he can't even fully recount it (unclear if it's because he doesn't remember all his abilities or if he can't keep track of the new ones popping up spontaneously)

He's hot [whoever added this, you're not wrong, but I'm watching you - O.]

He has a grudge against Flash (unclear to why, but Flash seems to know the reason and won't budge regardless)

Of course, there are many more things to know about Danny Phantom, but they are mostly suspicions, rumors, and speculations. Like how sometimes the boy seems distracted and bored as if he is only going through a pre-written script; a sign of repeatedly going through the same day a few times too many, as the other time-travellers say. Or like how sometimes he knows too much - the boy is an expert in Kryptonian biology, to Clark's great surprise, and is more knowledgeable about Olympus politics than Diana herself.

There are also little things that are hard to notice and even harder to ignore once you do. How he never talks about family but likes listening to others talk about it. How he pointedly stays away from the medbay and any kind of medical staff. How he stops every time he passes one of the giant windows on the main floor of the Watchtower, smiling dreamily at the sight of vast, open space beyond it.

And then, there's The Thing that no one addresses.

When Danny Phantom doesn't pay attention, he unknowingly nullifies gravity.

The first time it happened, Bruce thought the Watchtower's artificial gravity collapsed. However, he very quickly realized that it was a local occurrence - only a few rooms and a hallway were affected - and, right in the center of it, was Danny, reading a book he borrowed (stolen) from the Wayne manor library.

The boy himself never noticed it. Which made sense, given that he defied gravity all on his own, always floating in the air above the floor.

But the others never acknowledged it either, treating the sudden absence of gravity as a sign of one, Danny appearing somewhere around, and two, him being in a good, if a bit absent, mood.

All in all, it's not the strangest thing that happens at the Watchtower on a daily basis.

And, besides, it's kind of fun.

¤¤¤

Danny, floating in the middle of the game room at Wayne manor, deeply engrossed in a video game: Eat this, sucker!

Tim, using his toes and knees to keep himself from floating up from the couch, not wanting to distract Danny from their match: Oh, you're going down.

Titus in the background:

¤¤¤

Bart, in the middle of a conversation with Kon:

Kon: ...

Bart, looking down at the cup on the floor: ... I guess he left?..

Kon: He literally went through a giant glowing portal two minutes ago, five feet away from you, but that's how you figure it out?

Bart: I have a short attention span, anyway-

¤¤¤

Barry, opening a bag of chips just for all the contents and himself as well to start floating: I swear he does this on purpose, I fucking swear.

¤¤¤

Red Tornado, coming into the training hall of Mount Justice: ...

Young Justice:

Red Tornado: I take it Danny is visiting. I'll leave you to it, then.

¤¤¤

Bruce, walking out of the conference room at the Watchtower to see this on the other end of the hallway, internally: He may be coming this way, I should warn the others in the room.

Bruce, a second later, because he is a little shit deep inside: On the other hand, it's a great surroundings awareness drill, so maybe I shouldn't.

[loserfae]

ok but for real

[saint-nevermore]

an old boar spinosaurus. i imagine a large grabbable structure like that would be prone to some very whacky injuries!

[papanowo]

vampire danbert au but make it whimsigoth

[yooo-lets-go]

Happy Valentine’s Day ♥️

To everybody except Hesh, I guess

[magicpiano]

DCXDP corpse AU (where Danny leaves behind a body every time he transforms.) Danny finds out about Tim not having a spleen and is like, "you can have one of mine if you want."

[da-janela-lateral]

Seven-headed beast.

[marisashinx]

Let's change the topic...

[danrifics]

sharing <3

[neostellarjpg]

Maybe some roxyjane? ;3

[kiisaes]

💪

[xiewho]

no time to celebrate

[capquinn]

waking up the morning after a roadie and not expecting quinn to be there and then he IS (shocking ik) and just cuddling in the morning is my dream truly. okay bye

ahhhhhhh sleepy, lovey quinny is such a dream. i could write about soft mornings with him forever. hope you enjoy! <3

It’s the warmth that wakes you first, a slow, creeping comfort that feels familiar. The cotton beneath your cheek carries the faint, clean scent of his detergent, and there’s no mistaking the weight of his arm draped over you, his hand resting just beneath the hem of your t-shirt, his palm splayed warm and steady against the small of your back, like it always was. You don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s him. You’d know it anywhere — the soft trace of his shampoo lingering on his skin, the way his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm under your fingertips.

He's home.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you nuzzle further into him, the fabric of his shirt brushing against your cheek as you sink into the feeling of him, solid and warm beneath you. He stirs slightly at your movement, a low hum slipping from his throat, and his arm tightens around you instinctively, like he’s pulling you closer even in his half-asleep state.

“You’re home,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his chest, lazy and full of contentment.

“Mmhm,” he hums, the sound barely more than a breath. His lips brush against your hair in a soft, barely-there kiss, and you can feel the faintest curve of his smile. “Got in late. Didn’t want to wake you.”

“You should’ve,” you murmur softly, your voice thick with sleep as you tilt your head just enough to nuzzle your nose against the base of his neck. The motion earns another low hum from him, this one deeper, pleased, as his hand begins to move, slow and lazy, brushing soothing patterns against your back.

“I missed you,” you add, the words barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of two weeks apart.

Quinn shifts slightly beneath you, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head, tightening his hold on you like he’s trying to erase the distance all at once. His voice is still thick with sleep, rasping softly as he replies, “missed you too.”

His hand moves from your back to tangle gently in your hair, his fingers brushing against your scalp in slow, comforting strokes. The motion is unhurried, each touch lingering as if he’s savouring the quiet moment just as much as you are. You sigh against him, your body melting further into his, and it feels like every ache of the past two weeks apart is fading into the warmth of him now.

“Two weeks felt like forever this time,” you murmur into the cotton of his shirt, the fabric muffling your words but not the emotion behind them.

“Yeah,” he murmurs back, voice low and a little rough. “Hated it.”

His lips brush against your hair again, firmer this time, lingering. Neither of you says anything for a while after that, content to stay tangled together in the quiet. His breathing evens out, steady and soothing, and you close your eyes, tracing small, absent minded patterns on his chest with your fingertips.

Eventually, you tilt your head back to look up at him, his features softened by the golden morning light spilling into the room. For a moment, you think he might’ve fallen back asleep — his lashes resting against his cheeks, his breathing slow. But then, his lips twitch into the faintest smile, and he brushes his nose against yours.

“You’re staring,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with a sleepy rasp.

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you let out a soft laugh, your fingers stilling against his chest for just a moment. “Just… happy you’re here.”

His eyes remain closed and he stays quiet, but his actions say everything — his nose brushes against yours again, his breath fanning against your skin, and you sink into him, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to his lips. When you start to pull away, he hums softly, the sound low and content, his hand lingering, and with the faintest nudge, he guides your face back toward his. His lips meet yours again, this time slower, deeper, unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to lose himself in you.

When he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, you stay there for a moment, eyes closed, breaths mingling in the soft morning light. His fingers remain tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing idly along your temple as if to say, stay here, don’t move.

And for a moment, the silence stretches, filled with nothing but the soft rhythm of your breaths and the warmth of his thumb moving gently against your skin. His lips hover close, like he’s still debating whether to steal another kiss, but instead, he finally breaks the quiet.

“Missed this,” he murmurs, voice all sleep-rough.

“Hmm?” you hum softly, your hand finding its way to his jaw, your thumb grazing over the stubble there.

“Waking up with you,” he says, his tone so gentle it’s almost shy, like admitting it out loud might make it too real. His hand trails lazily up your back, his palm flattening between your shoulder blades as he tugs you closer. “Been counting the days.”

You smile against him, your nose brushing his cheek. “I didn’t think you’d be back until later.”

“Just wanted to come home,” he admits, his lips curving faintly.

Your heart flips at the quiet sincerity in his words, and you lean closer, your lips ghosting over the corner of his mouth in response.

“Should’ve woken me,” you say again softly, not as a reprimand but as a quiet confession, a small ache for the hours you missed.

“Wanted to,” he replies, his hand slipping back to cradle your head again, his fingers threading gently through your hair. “But you looked so peaceful. Didn’t have the heart.”

You huff a quiet laugh, tilting your head back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, but there’s a warmth there, a quiet adoration that makes you melt.

“Next time, wake me,” you murmur. “I’ll forgive you, promise.”

[kijeu]

happiest birthday, christopher chan ♡ 1997.10.03

template credits: x x