#phantom handshakes

[polaroidblog]

“Memoria polaroid” – un blog alla radio S23E38

“I did what I could when nothing made sense”, cantano le Softies nel loro nuovo singolo che apre la scaletta di questa sera, e in effetti potrebbe quasi essere un motto anche per questo programma. Nel caso possa aiutare anche voi a trovare qualche senso, ecco qui un’oretta di belle novità indiepop e indie rock, senza trascurare gli indispensabili, nella nuova puntata del podcast di “Memoria…

[shoegazekid]

#phantomhandshakes #shoegaze

[maquina-semiotica]

“ Stranger's Ride”, Phantom Handshakes

[inthewindtunnel]

Phantom Handshakes

Into the D

Sirens

-album-

[thoughtswordsaction]

Phantom Handshakes Released New Album "Sirens At Golden Hour"

Image courtesy of the band. Phantom Handshakes is a lo-fi dream-pop collaboration between Matt Sklar and Federica Tassano. Based in New York City, the band has released two full length albums, an EP and a number of singles since it began in the Spring of 2020. All of their releases were self-recorded by the band and have received some nice mentions from various blogs and websites. Their newest…

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

Live Concert Photography: New Colossus Festival 2022: New Colossus Festival Kickoff Party at Piano's 3/9/22 with Zoon, Tallies and Phantom Handshakes

New Colossus Festival Kickoff Party at Piano's 3/9/22 with Zoon, Tallies and Phantom Handshakes @NewColossusFest @dedstrange @kaninerecords @PianosNYC @TALLIESband @HandDrawnDrac @bellaunion @hivemindp @zoongideewin

Live Concert Photography: New Colossus Festival 2022: New Colossus Festival Kickoff Party at Piano’s 3/9/22 with Zoon, Tallies and Phantom Handshakes Photographers often have a treasure trove of unedited and unpublished photos. I’m not an exception. Unsurprisingly, I have a rather deep collection of unedited and unpublished photos on several dead and malfunctioning external hard drives, going…

[notaplaceofhonour]

ah yes, the ‘ol “I’m an angel sent by your dead father” routine

[lilypads17]

hey its phantom of the op. phant. pha

[angstandhappiness]

Neat

My enjoyment of Danny Phantom as a series has been enriched significantly with the realization that “ghost hunter” as it’s established as a career here is basically ‘occult researcher’ and this is a setting that does have basically wizards (Freakshow) and magical artifacts.

If we pair this with the fact that the Fenton parents are uncommonly combat-ready people who are armed at odd occasions (Maddie just… has a machete in Maternal Instinct) this leads me to the conclusion that Danny’s sense of normality is probably kind of shot.

Tucker, concerned “Why do you know how to knife fight?”

Danny, “What do you mean why? My mom taught me?”

Sam, torn between judgment and envy “Your mom taught you how to knife fight?”

Danny “YES? Because people need to know these things?”

(and, if you like a side garnish of dark with your comedy, think about that in DP canon it’s pretty much a given that any part of the world is haunted with often powerful ghosts, many of which are hostile, random lake monsters, magical artifacts that can cause great deals of trouble, and the Fentons know it’s dangerous out there considering one of their old college buddies got hospitalized at great length over a lab accident, so they’d have a KEENLY vested interest in making sure their kids have survival and combat skills)

[maquina-semiotica]

“ Stranger's Ride”, Phantom Handshakes

[inthewindtunnel]

Phantom Handshakes

Stranger's Ride

Sirens at Golden Hour

-album-

[afanofmanyships]

Inspiration: this post

But they actually fight.

Captain Marvel recognizes the energy signature: "Ah," looks Phantom up and down with a raised eyebrow, "so you're the new hire?"

Phantom also recognizes the energy signature: "I could say the same thing," looks Captain Marvel up and down.

There was a moment of silence before the JL started feeling a buzz in the air.

Lighting sparks appear around Captain Marvel and start spreading throughout his body. The JL feels a little buzz on their skin, intensifying as the lighting spreads throughout Captain Marvel's body. Most of the JL almost kneel down while the others are already on the ground. And they know that the only reason the rest aren't on the ground is because Captain Marvel remembers that they're there.

A part of space belongs in the Realms. Green sparks appear floating around Phantom. The JL feels an enormous amount of pressure on them making the ones previously standing fall straight to the ground.

Only for the pressure that the both of them were emitting to disappear all of a sudden.

What looks like a void appears wrapped around Phantom but the JL could only feel air leaving their lungs as something squeezes their throats.

They feel the buzz again making them look over at Captain Marvel.

Captain Marvel and Phantom walk toward each other with their fist drawn back. As their fists collided with one another face, they both got flanged to the opposite wall. They both laughed and got up to meet one another in the middle with a handshake.

Captain Marvel through gritted teeth: It's soo nice to meet you again.

Phantom's eye twitches: Likewise.

Earlier that week

Billy holds up a bagel: Finally!!

Recently homeless Danny: Yoink! *snatches the bagel out of Billy's hands*

Billy: Hey!!

Danny runs off: Finder's keepers LOSER!!

Later

Danny just stole a man's wallet: Haha!

Billy bumps into him: Sorry man! *Waves two wallets and runs off*

Danny:

Danny searches his pockets:

Danny: *Offended gasp*

And ever since then, they had beef with each other.

[stealingyourbones]

Short DPXDC Prompts #881

The Daily Planet hired a new journalist for their politics sector. According to the gossip Lois heard, the new hire is a meta who impressed Perry on a potential scoop on a major violation of the Meta Protection Act. Perry instructed her to show the new guy the ropes, it’s a bit under her pay grade but she accepted. She can take a small break writing columns to train a newbie. A knock on her office door had her pause writing a new column on another Lex Luthor scandal. “Come in.” The door opened. On the other side was a man even larger than Clark. His flaming hair, red eyes, clawed fingers and massive frame cast him as an extremely imposing figure. Good thing that Lois is used to imposing, but this man was a different form of towering than Clark. While Clark did his best to look small and as unassuming as possible; this man’s shoulders stood tall. His dark suit and circular sunglasses gave him a powerful and menacing energy that was fully intentional. It’s eerily similar to how Bruce held himself during his business meetings, not nearly as menacing as his Batman persona; but still strikes as serious and imposing as he directs his company as the CEO of Wayne Industries. The looming figure met her eyes and nodded, giving her what she assumed to be a grin meant to make him less menacing, his razor sharp canines prevented it from being very effective. She mentally makes a reminder to get him lessons from her husband on making his approach more friendly. Clark has lots of experience on the matter. “Mrs. Lois Lane.” His voice was low and gruff, a deep rumbling tone that equally sounded soothing and dangerous. Shutting the door and walking over to a chair opposite her desk. He stuck out a hand, his claws glinting in the light. “The names Dan Phantom ma’am. It’s very nice to meet you.” She noted with mild surprise that he moved more deftly than she suspected a man of his bulk would. Smiling, she grabbed the outstretched hand and shook his hand firmly. Lois smiled and shook his hand firmly. He had the same gentleness as Clark’s handshakes. Still incredibly strong, but a feeling of carefulness. Like her hand was made of glass and he was afraid it’d shatter if he grasped it too firmly. Lois mentally filed ‘Superstrength’ in the lists of potential powers this man might have. “Likewise Dan. Welcome to the Daily Planet.”

[lovehotelreservation]

chapter one: hi it's me you're all in danger summary: worldwide fame and a political tie or two has you--one of the biggest pop stars around--in dire need of reliable protection. thankfully you have four ex-military retirees to entrust your wellbeing to. but what happens when that protection turns possessive? rating: pg-13 (rating will increase across certain chapters) pairing: f!reader/task force 141 next chapter

as a longtime charli xcx fan, can't say i expected my brat autumn to be spent writing about the cod mfs 😭😭

-----------------

10 AM. London. Shangri-La. Hotel bar.

Somehow, being surrounded by opulence, prestige, and elegance made particular four men currently seated in the back of the space feel a bit out of place.

But they were here on a mission.

Or rather, a job now.

The days of being out on the field in camo fatigues were of the past. Now they were all seated together in suits–black and white, jacket, tie, pants and polished shoes–gin and lemon water on the table.

There was a bit of restlessness in the air and it was starting to spill out in the conversations shared amongst the four.

“Simon, would it literally kill ya to show yer mouth, man? Dae ya want the lass to think yer sick as a first impression?”

“A bit of mystery could be fun, no?”

“Are ya Scooby fuckin’ Doo or somethin?!”

“Johnny, can you keep it down? Your mohawk’s already gotten us enough looks as it is.”

“And what’s so wrong with a lil’ business casual, Kyle?!”

“Can you muppets keep it down!?”

The harsh lash of Price’s tongue had postures straightened and lips hushed.

With a sigh, he brought his fingers to his temple, wondering how he managed to save the world over and over again with these three. Still, his eyes flickered to his watch as he checked the time, a conversation from a month ago coming to mind.

“Price.”

A hand was extended out to him. Fluorescent lights at the American embassy in Paris hung above. Murmurs of French and English lingered in the air as the day proceeded.

Price grinned, returning the exchange with a firm handshake. “Miller. Good to see you standing, old friend.”

Moments later the conversation was held at Miller’s office, a familiar place during the times Price had visited. What stood out to him most was the newly framed photo of Miller and his blushing bride, Priscilla.

A miraculous matrimony all things considered.

Miller, an American ambassador. Priscilla, an activist whose loud and mighty voice helped push for change within socio-political and environmental spaces.

It wasn’t as if it was absolutely impossible for the two to meet–rather, it was just the fact they met after being held hostage alongside other world leaders and activists during a goodwill gala held at Berlin. Terror wished to deliver a haunting message to all of the world, with similar sieges held at other massive events, but thankfully the work of 141 and other allies blocked the reception.

Price glanced down at Miller’s desk, where a few pictures of a glamorous woman were splayed across files: a pop star by the name of Dollface. Formerly part of beloved girl group 4EVA, now setting the music scene alight with impeccable music production, godly vocals, and captivating choreography.

Or so he’s heard.

Right beside her was a clipped out headline from a newspaper:

Glastonbury Saved! Tragedy Averted from Terrorist Threat!

A job well done–courtesy of a certain phantom soldier.

“–I know your days of military campaigns are over, but this has been tearing Priscilla apart,” Miller sighed morosely. “While I know this is the fault of no one and she understands that change in the world comes at a cost, the fact that terrorists would target her niece’s festival performance has been haunting her.”

“Revolution does not come easy, that’s for certain,” Price mused as he glanced over at his friend’s face with an affirming nod. “Even so, it’s something still worth fighting for.”

Miller sighed out in agreement. “Of course.”

“So then.” Adjusting his posture, Price then continued, his tone light, “What can I and a few recently retired soldiers do for you, mate?”

His shoulders relaxing, Miller then reached down for one of the photos of the pop star, pushing it over towards Price. “Watch her. Protect her, please. She’s been an anxious mess ever since Glastonbury.” Gazing down at the newspaper headline clipping, he continued, “Her career’s at such a critical point and her first solo world tour’s been delayed enough as it is. Pressure’s everywhere–label, fans, the media. I know she wants more than anything to finally move forward. But–”

Gingerly picking up the photo, Price took in every single detail of the woman.

Of you.

Turning his focus back to Miller, he grinned, brows raising. “A bit of Price Protection and Co. could do wonders, yeah?”

“You’d be doing miracles, friend” was the response received, along with a vigorous nod.

Price held out his hand.

“It’s a deal.”

And now, the gang was all here, even though the gang was currently driving Price up the wall. Still, if there was anyone who he trusted to get the job done on behalf of a dear old friend, it was Gaz, Ghost, and Soap.

Or rather, from here on out: Kyle, Simon and Johnny.

It didn’t hurt that the gig paid quite handsomely–your label desperately wanted you to get back on stage one way or another. Since the Glastonbury incident, you’ve since been spending your days in London, far too afraid to leave anywhere. The plan was to slowly draw you out of your shell by planning all promotional endeavors around the UK before you would travel the world as intended.

Before any of that however, the first key matter of business is for the five of you to meet together.

10:15 AM. London. Shangri-La. Hotel bar.

“What do you lot think? Full glam or lowkey?” Kyle spoke up, now peering over to look at Johnny’s phone, who had brought up one of your music videos.

Price glanced over, seeing slick skin, big curls, gyrating hips, rouge lips, white heels, and sparkling eyes.

Such visuals were definitely not on Miller’s desk when discussing the job.

“Like right now?” Johnny queried back.

“Lowkey without question.” Simon folded his arms across his chest, his eyes peeking at Johnny’s phone, his expression reflective.

A sudden tap on the back of Price's shoulder just a moment later soon caught his attention. 

“Mr. Price…?”

He immediately turned back, the others following suit.

Johnny’s eyes widened, immediately switching off his phone to shove into his pocket.

Lowkey was correct.

A cap, oversized t-shirt with shorts hidden beneath, hair down, tennis shoes, a pair of sunglasses that were soon slipped off.

The contrast between who they saw on screen to who they were seeing now couldn’t be any more apparent.

Still, even by the way you stood before him, posture shrunken back slightly, eyes a bit downcast, voice softer than the usual bubbly vocals of your music, there was this grace, this aura that you exuded–one that spoke of a true bonafide performer rather than a mere average person.

Smiling warmly, Price held his hand out towards you for you to shake. “That would be me, dear.”

“Uncle Miller’s told me lots about you.” You smiled, bringing your hand up to take his.

So much smaller than his, he noted to himself, chuckling as he responded with, “I hope they’re my finer moments.”

Giggling in response, you affirmed, “As he said, only the best unclassified stuff. I’m Doll–” You quickly stopped yourself, opting to give your first name instead.

“Face pretty like a doll’s still,” Johnny murmured over to Kyle, who nodded in agreement.

Simon didn’t say anything but instead allowed his arms to rest by his sides, continuing to quietly observe you.

A world-renowned pop star with four former soldiers tasked to serve as her bodyguards.

Should be an easy enough job.

-----------------

thank you for reading !!! i know i tend to not really do multi-chapter pieces but idk the ghost of brat summer took over me after seeing a clip of soap and simon banter so i've been genuinely locked in with writing out this tale 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

subsequent chapters are going to be loosely tied together but i hope you enjoy my take on cod yumejo with this pop star otome 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

next chapter's up next friday !!! 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

[aschriles]

Secret identity shenanigans AU where Danny is an intern at LexCorp and has no idea the guy he's been flirting with these past few weeks actually wasn't a fellow intern, but was the son of his boss' boss, and is also Superboy.

(Yeah, that Superboy. From the Titans. The one who kept flirting with him while they were on the field, and sent him a DM on his Phantom account insisting they met during Danny's internship. In his defense, Kon wore flannel. And glasses.)

Danny might not have the best relationship with rich people (see: Vlad), but he had to suck it up if he was going to intern at LexCorp. Anyway, it wasn't like he'd have to personally deliver Luthor his coffee every morning.

Except that's exactly what happens. Somehow, by some sheer cosmic force of the universe, he ends up interning directly under Hope, aka one of Lex Luthor's personal assistant. Which means he's like, Lex Luthor's personal assistant's personal assistant... or something. In theory, it was perfect. In reality, it was stupid.

It was stupid, because Hope sends him out for Luthor's special coffee (an iced Americano from that one coffee shop all the way on the other side of Metropolis) and pastries (a whole-ass apple pie) at nine in the morning every single day when everyone and their mom knew the traffic was literal hell, then expected him to be back at the office five minutes later. Among other things, of course. For the thousandth time since he got stuck in this hell-hole, he made a mental note to burn all of Luthor's robots to the ground the next time Superman called for the JLD to help out with Luthor's stupid invasions. Stupid Luthor. Stupid coffee. Stupid apple pie.

Danny grumbled under his breath as he speed-walked inside the lobby. "Why can't Luthor just take his coffee and shove it—"

"Up his ass? Yeah, that's what I ask myself aaallll the time."

Danny whipped his head around so fast, he almost tripped on his feet. Sitting on one of the comfy couches was a guy around his age. He looked like a weird cross between a country boy (flannel and glasses) and a punk (messy dark hair, piercings, and was that a tattoo?) but like, in a hot way. He also looked—he looked kinda familiar, in an 'I know I saw you from somewhere' kind of way, but Danny couldn't remember where he actually saw him from. He shook his head, figuring he could deal with it later. "You an intern, too?"

Made sense he wasn't the only intern around, but a part of Danny couldn't help but pity the poor guy if he got stuck interning as Mercy's personal assistant. Mercy was scarier than Zatanna and Nightmare Nurse combined.

Flannel shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, I do some odd jobs here and there, so..." His face lit up, like an idea had suddenly occurred to him. "Hey, I could come with you, if you want. As like, moral support or something. You're heading to Hope's office, right?"

Danny paused. Technically, it's not like there was any harm with letting another intern tag along. Plus, he could use some help with the apple pie. "Sure, man. I'm Danny," he added, since it was the polite thing to do, even if he couldn't go for a handshake because Luthor's stupid coffee and apple pie required both hands.

Flannel grinned, all teeth, and maybe he really was famous, like a model? Or someone from TV? Danny was pretty sure he'd seen that smile before. Maybe Flannel was a random civilian he'd rescued? "Nice to meet you, Danny. The name's Conner Kent, but you can call me Kon."

[bwabys-scenarios]

It’s not often that Feitan will join you on an outing, but when he does he stays quite close.

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t feel like having to drag you through the streets to make sure you keep up with him, or maybe it’s because he has the protective urge to keep you in his sight at all times.

Not like he would ever admit to the latter, but you can tell. It’s easy to spot when his face scrunches up in annoyance when you wander a bit too far.

His hand will grip yours a bit too tight as he pulls you back to his side, grumbling something under his breath about you being too ditzy to leave alone for too long. “Stupid, would get lost. Make hard for me.”

Feitan shows his love in ways you wouldn’t usually expect. He’s not sappy, and he struggles with expressing his emotions with words, so often it’s physical actions like squeezing your hand when you’re afraid, or holding back your hair as you vomit after a long night out drinking with the phantom troupe. You wouldn’t call him cold… more awkward and stiff, as if he’s never quite felt these feelings before.

He’s rude and snarky at times, but with you he’s uncharacteristically… soft. Almost tender. Feitan would have teased any of the phantom troupe members for tripping and scraping their knee the way you did, but with you he bends down and kisses it better, not minding the blood that stains his lips.

At first you genuinely thought he hated you, and sometimes you still wonder if you’re more of a pet than partner to him. That’s not true at all, to him you’re everything… he just can’t express that through words yet. Though when he pets your head and says how good you’re being… you start leaning more towards the pet side.

You noticed that you’re the only one really allowed to touch him. The phantom troupe members occasionally exchange handshakes or the occasional hug, but you’re the one that gets to hold him close, to play with his soft, black hair and hum to him as he nestles his face against your chest. That’s a privilege only you get, and it does make you a bit proud.

He loves you, that’s certain, but he does regret not being able to truly give you a normal life. That’s just not in the stars for him. He’ll steal and kill until he’s unable to… but sometimes he wishes he could give you that little house by a lake and the kids you’ve been talking about. Feitan wouldn’t be a good father though, at least that’s what he’s convinced himself to believe. He just hopes you’ll be able to accept him, and love him just as much as he loves you…