#prompt: car

[gregorovitch-adler]

Car

Warning: A bit suggestive.

--

Sherlock and John were walking briskly along the pavement outside Scotland Yard.

Breathing heavily through their giggles, their hands slid into each other's. Quite natural, when it came to them. John interlocked their fingers, making Sherlock turn to look at him. They shared an intense look - with John gazing into his sea-green eyes - but knew better than to do anything at the moment.

John looked away and smiled to himself. Sherlock busied himself by raising an arm to hail a cab for both of them.

The case they had just solved was no less than a nine. Sherlock had been working on it for weeks after having visited the crime scene for the first time.

When he went out of the flat on the second occasion, along with John, they made sure to bring the killer with them to the Yard.

Catching this one was particularly tricky. The killer must have made them run in every nook and corner of Westminster that evening.

In the end, John shot him in the foot and cuffed him like Sherlock had asked him to do.

Sherlock had been able to force the confession out of the killer with the other officers as witnesses.

A cab slowed down at the curb.

Sherlock opened the door of the car for John. His grin still had not worn off.

John tried to calm himself down by biting his lower lip as he got in - to control his own, rather idiotic, grin.

Sherlock sat beside him and slammed the car door shut, before turning to look at John.

John returned his gaze with the same intensity as before, looking at Sherlock as if he were the most precious thing in the world. Well, he was.

The driver cleared his throat pointedly.

"221, Baker Street," they said in unison, without even glancing at the driver.

The car started from there, and for the two of them, the rest of the world had stopped mattering.

Sherlock placed an arm around John, closed the distance, and leaned in to kiss John. Hard.

John made a surprised sound at the back of his throat but grabbed one of the lapels of Sherlock's coat to kiss him back with equal passion.

They normally didn't do this with people around, but John could not care less today.

John had buried his other hand in Sherlock's curls and was tugging them now and then - making Sherlock drop his hand to John's waist, to tighten the embrace even more.

The way Sherlock's plush lips kept pressing insistently against his own - John felt like the luckiest man in London. No, the luckiest man in the world - even though this was decidedly not the first time they were doing this. He would not be able to bring himself to stop this, even if he tried.

Just when he was about to shift his mouth to Sherlock's neck, the driver honked loudly. Bit rude, John thought for a split second, just when the driver honked again.

Realising they were on an empty street, and that the driver was glaring at them through the rearview mirror, the couple broke the embrace, feeling abashed.

Sherlock hadn't let go of John's hand though.

A few minutes passed in complete silence. John was staring out the window, flushed up and aroused.

They had still not arrived at Baker Street.

Suddenly, Sherlock shifted close to John in the backseat again with their legs touching. He leaned into John's ear and dropped his voice to a whisper. "We could always make use of our hands in silence."

John shivered and suppressed a laugh. From the tone of his voice, Sherlock sounded completely serious.

So, that was exactly what they did, during the rest of their ride.

***

Sherlock September Challenge.

Prompt Car by @onesmallfamily

Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @lisbeth-kk @gaylilsherlock @lookingforlifeoutthere @keirgreeneyes @a-victorian-girl @peanitbear @missdeliadili @curlyjohnlock @calaisreno

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Brucie Wayne gets into a mild accident in public (read-got hit by a car). And Batman would just walk it off (“it’s barely a bruise”), but Brucie obviously… can’t.

So he has to suffer the ordeal of having civilians call paramedics, getting fussed over, and having-

Having his dead son get into the back of the ambulance with him.

Oh- oh no. He must have hit his head worse than he thought. He thought he was past this…

[mischievous-thunder]

Deadpool and Wolverine is a fanfic in the movie form that feels as much like a fever dream as a rom-com. The content creator only gave it an R rating as an umbrella term which includes all of the following ao3 tags:

Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Canon Divergence, Multiverse, Meet Ugly, Enemies to Friends, Age Difference, Bickering, Undeniable Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Survivor Guilt

Pain Play, Car Sex, BDSM, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Porn with Feelings, Aggressive Sex, Orgasm Denial, Edging, Power Play, Cock Tease, No Refractory Period

Semi-Public Sex

Accidental Striptease

Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Cuddling, Domestic Banter, Falling in Love, Getting together, Idiots in Love, Old Married Couple in Spirit, Additional Tags to be Added...

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Places To Sleep

I've seen many fics and prompts with Homeless Danny, and I've just had a thought: what's the safest place to sleep at night when you a) don't have a home, b) can turn intangible and invisible, and c) are not afraid of mortals' justice system since you're dead and it doesn't really apply to you?

Cop cars.

Cops patrol the streets at night, but really, they mostly just pick a place and stay there until something happens, right? (I mean, I think that's right, I'm not very educated on the matter)

So, say Danny is in Gotham, and he needs a place to sleep, but it's the most crime-ridden city in the world, and sleeping out in the streets is cold and uncomfortable. And sure, he can climb into any car, but he chooses the cop car because, first, it's got a radio, so if the cops get any alerts about him (you can't tell me that GIW wouldn't use the help of local police, they are government agents after all), he will hear it first. Second, it's warm and cozy and soft. Third, and the most important: no one is going to look for him there! It's like hiding in plain sight but even better.

Or, well, it is, until one night the cop car he is sleeping in gets dispatched to some crime scene along with about a dozen others, and it turns out to be some trafficking rink that got busted or whatnot, and there are a lot of people who need to be taken to the GCPD station. So Danny, sleepy and grumpy because he was suddenly woken up, searches for the first still running but empty car, while staying invisible and intangible, and when he finds it, he just crashes in the back seat.

He is very surprised a few minutes later when the motherfucking Batman jumps in the front seat, and at least three of his sidekicks are trying to squeeze themselves in the back.

The Bats are even more surprised when they find a random teenager flickering in and out of visibility in the back seat of Batmobile, his eyes wide as saucers and Lazarus green.

[wickcipher]

She dared him

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny and Ellie had majorly screwed up. Now here they were in the hydro-electric car Danny had designed for applying to Wayne industries/whoever would give a fifteen year old a fat paycheck, sitting in the middle of Gotham, at night, surrounded by glaring bats.

Crap.

Time to bullshit his way out of this.

He looked at Red Robin and sheepishly grinned, "...hi dad."

Ellie, the little gremlin, didn't even hesitate before adding, "We are so grounded. I told you we shouldn't have messed with the broken time machine but nooo."

The bats were either taken about or cackling and Danny to this chance to put the petal to the metal and get out of there

Tim is now obsessed with finding his future kids.

[rafesangelita]

you should definitely write something w Latina!reader telling Rafe that her family celebrates Christmas early

“..so what you’re telling me is that your family opens gifts a day earlier?” rafe is watching you take the rollers out of your hair as you nod. “of course! por qué— why? does your family wait till christmas day?” at your question, your boyfriend looked at you as if you said the most insane thing he’s ever heard. “well, yeah. i thought everyone does.” you should’ve known rafe would be surprised when you revealed that everyone would be staying up till twelve at your house, but you still couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “no, rafe! that’s why we’re going to your family’s tomorrow.” you reminded him. he was fiddling with his tie when he scoffed. “where were you when i was little? opening gifts a day early is like every kid’s dream..”

[spacedace]

dp x dc prompt/mini blurb thing:

Somewhere along the line, stealing the Batmobile had seemed like the best option.

Elle would stand by that - admittedly short-sighted and kind of panic induced - logic. It was a vehicle that no one would try and stop. It was fast. The keys were in the ignition. Easiest car theft of her life. Or, well, unlife. Whatever. Still the easiest.

She may have forgotten that Superman could fly as fast as the stupid tank of a car could go. Or that Gotham had other vigilantes, that had bikes that were way more maneuverable, or that Billy was a big baby about car chases.

“WATCH THE ROAD!”

“YOU WATCH THE ROAD I’M DRIVING HERE!”

[wigglebox]

Supernatural September | Day 1 - On the road

[caleod]

23-10-24 "Rust"

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: Clown Car

Based off THIS

Danny, having gotten really into circus and clown history, culture, and craft, has decided to mess with the Joker. Not just because he’s a villain, but because he’s a shitty clown. And Danny is willing to out clown him to prove his point.

The Clown Car incident

No one knew what to expect when a small car drove up to the Joker in the middle of his dramatic villainous speech. By the look on the Joker’s face, he didn’t know what to expect either. 

The mysterious clown had been harassing him for a few weeks now. A foiled heist here, a botched plan there. So it wasn’t entirely unexpected for the clown to climb out of the car. What was unexpected was when another clown came out of the car talking to goofing with the first. Then another, and another. Soon a flood of clowns came pouring out, all in different costumes and slightly different shapes but with the same makeup. Some even had “construction” equipment, large rubber mallets, a wooden board carried between two, a bucket of whitewash. One after the other they came, until the Joker was lost amongst a sea of clowns, shouting and fuming, trying to be heard over the honking and shenanigans. 

Joker was pissed, but kept getting caught up in the various bits the clowns engaged in. He got wacked with the board, and managed to get flipped over it, the bucket of whitewash landed on his head. He kept getting tripped and moved about as if he was simply a part of the act. 

In the crowd, Tim Drake recorded the whole thing. A few minutes after it had started, the clowns had packed up and left in their tiny car with a disoriented and confused Joker facing Batman.

Tim sent the video to Dick and Jason, and the mystery clown gained two new fans that day

or

Danny used intangibility and duplication to pull of the clown car solo after spending two weeks making enough unique costumes for each duplicate. 

[lurking-loaf]

FazEnt Marketing Team: "Kids like memes right?"

Day 5 of DCA Promptober - artistic license redraw of the "You wouldn't download a car" meme

Since I had to shrink and trim the original art really small to make the gif fit tumblr's maximum upload size, here are the images in non-crunchy form.

The way the two images are laid out above is actually the way they were going to be posted before my 11th hour "Hey! Let's try animating it!" moment. Also, I had zero experience doing any sort of digital animation before this simple one. I'm not sure what the protocol is for using meme templates so I approximated the original text for use in this piece just to be on the safe side. I also redrew the daycare logo itself and changed aspects of it for some reason. Also also, I used the noise brush for the first time to made tv static instead of just finding and using a royalty free image of some sort because it is essential I make things more difficult than they need to be.

[writinglittlepains]

whumpee being transported in a car:

front seat: buckled in, arms bound behind their back. struggling to unbuckle themselves and reach the door even as whumper is right there, calmly driving

back seat: same situation as front, except maybe there's more seatbelts tying them down. or maybe they're bound and just dumped on the floor

trunk: bound and gagged and stuffed in the trunk. maybe whumper drives dangerously on purpose so whumpee is thrown around. they have no idea where they're going

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Prompt 17

The woman is on a call with her partner

Prompt: “Are you pushing?”

AN: I really enjoy the trope of a partner rushing home to their labouring wife, driving fast trying not to miss the birth, the sounds of the woman’s labour echoing around their car. But for this, I thought it would be fun to reverse it. Hope it’s just as fun to read this way round. [fpreg, 2915 words]

Almost Home

Answering the phone Jack immediately put it on speaker, placing the device beside his laptop as he worked from home. “Hi honey, how’s the shopping going?”

“Err… yeah. Fine. Got everything I wanted but um…” His wife, Rosie, trailed off. Her voice sounded strained and uncertain. “Do you think you could mmm-maybe log off from w-work this afternoon-?”

“Why, what’s wrong? Are you alright? You sound a bit breathless, well more so than usual.” Jack joked but his eyes narrowed in concern.

“I’m fine it’s just— hoooooo — I don’t think those c-cramps this morning were false con-contractions.”

“What…You’re…in labour?” Jack grabbed his phone and stared at the caller ID in shock. “Okay… errr where are you, still at the mall? I’ll get an Uber and come get you.”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m on my way home now.” Rosie’s voice assured down the line.

“You’re driving… with contractions? Jeeze Rosie.”

“Will you relax, I’m fine. It’s only half an hour away and it’s all straight roads-mnnnhhhhh…” Her voice disappeared into a low groaning sound through the tinned speakers.

“… Rosie?” Jack called her name nervously but only got the sounds of her heavy panting in return. He swallowed the urge to shout at her for driving whilst in labour - it was their first baby and he didn’t want to be the cliche panicking father-to-be. It was probably just early labour pains so instead tried to offer help and support down the phone line.

“Try and breathe through it sweetheart, in and out.”

He could hear the way her voice rattled around the car as she moaned, deep and long, and the sounds of her suffering pulled at his heart. When it was over his wife was back on the phone again.

“Oof!… baby feels really low babe. Can you get our hospital bag ready by the door? We might have to head out pretty quickly.”

“But we don’t need to go to the hospital until the contractions are 5 minutes apart, or if your waters break.”

“Uh-huh.” Was all that his wife replied.

“Rosie… how long have you been having contractions?” Jack sternly asked, knowing his wife and fearing the response.

“Mmnnnnh… well, they’ve not really stopped since the ones this morning. And I guess I was feeling a bit crampy during the night…” Rosie admitted between deep and measured breaths.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn't realise they were labour pains, well not at first. But you’ve got that big project at work and we really needed to get this stuff for the nursery so I figured a walk around the mall would help get things moving a bit… Oohhhhhh….it's definitely done that job.” Rosie found herself humming on each exhale as she breathed through the fierce pressure and pain deep in her pelvis.

“Screw the work, Rosie, you should have told me you were having contractions.” Jack scolded, worried and nervous his wife was currently in labour without him.

“Mnnngh— shout at me later, just- just get the bag ready. Hoooooo-fuck..!” She groaned, gripping the steering wheel tight in her fists as another contraction rippled across her belly sending shooting pains up her spine and down her thighs.

Jack slammed his laptop shut and ran through the house trying to remember where they’d put the bag - why was it that you could never remember where you’d put things when you put them in a “safe place”? - all the while keeping his phone gripped in his hand and hearing the sounds of his labouring wife echo out the small speaker. Insisting that he stay on the line, Jack continued to offer words of encouragement and support as Rosie dangerously made her way home. He found the bag in their closet and rifled through the contents to check everything was there before heading downstairs to wait for his wife to return with the car, a journey which at this moment seemed to be dragging on for a lifetime.

“Mngh— thank fuck!” Rosie gruffed.

“What is it?”

“Traffic lights… contraction… Ooooohhhh- mmmnghhhhh….!!” Rosie took her hands off the wheel as she stopped at the lights, holding her rock solid belly in both hands and trying her best to breathe through the waves.

Jack checked the time on his phone, keeping track of the very short gaps between her groans, and hesitantly and reluctantly he said “Honey, they’re sounding awfully close together. Maybe you should stop and call an ambulance?”

“What?! No, I’m f-fine… hoooo…I’m not giving birth without you. I can m-make it h-home…” Despite her words and determination Rosie’s thighs subconsciously widened in her seat.

“Are you sure?” Jack could hear the almost constant low rumblings of a groan coming from his wife, through every breath and every word spoken.

“Nnnghhh— yes. Just… talk to me… keep me distracted… from these- oof!- contractions.” Rosie gruffed and put the car back into drive when the lights turned green and continued her journey home.

Following Rosie’s instructions, Jack started rambling about nonsense; work stuff, friends and family messages he’d received, mindlessly muttering to keep both their focus away from the sounds of pain emanating from his wife every few minutes. He stayed by their front door, looking through the window at the quiet rural street, waiting desperately for the first glimpse of their car.

Rosie meanwhile tried to hang on to every word coming through the car Bluetooth speakers, trying to ignore the pressure in her hips that was getting excruciatingly worse with every passing second. Her legs were spread as wide as they could go in the driver's seat; one squished against the door while the other was pressed against the centre console, her solid bump right up against the wheel. Even with wide legs nothing was relieving the pressure and the wrenching pain pulling her pelvis apart. The groans coming out her mouth were getting longer, deeper, and had started to end with an almost primal grunt. Her sweatpants were already damp from her waters breaking earlier; whilst walking around the shops she had eventually admitted defeat when the contractions had gotten close enough together that she could no longer ignore what was happening, and typically her waters had gone just as she was waddling across the quiet car park.

It was during a deep grunt that Rosie had a panicked realisation that her body had been automatically pushing. “Ohhhhhh… oh no….oh no…” She whimpered quietly, immediately trying to stop the contracting muscles. The car microphone obviously picked up her words for Jack immediately asked what was wrong.

“Nothing… I’m okay… we’re okay. I just have to breathe through it.”

And not push! Rosie thought to herself, gripping the steering wheel and trying to sit more upright in the hopes that if she blocked the baby’s exit that her labour might slow down a bit.

Jack could hear the raw panic in his wife’s voice, making him practically jump off the walls with frustration that he was stuck at the end of a phone and not with her. He knew she was not okay, she was in labour for fucks sake, but there was something else in her tone… He didn’t know what to say… he wanted to press the question, but she was suffering contractions and driving herself home - she didn’t need his frantic questioning as well.

“Remember the breathing we learnt in antenatal class; short, sharp breaths. You can do this Rosie, you are nearly home.” Jack said reassuringly, but he had no idea if that statement was true.

Rosie’s legs were trembling, barely able to keep her foot on the accelerator to keep the car moving. She would not have stood a chance in a manual car. Following her husband's instructions she panted through the contraction but she could feel the baby sinking lower and lower… she tried to squeeze her thighs together, clench anything that would stop this baby’s progress but everything she tried just made the pressure worse. It was torture, fighting against her body’s primal urge. She needed to push, her body screamed at her to bear down, her baby apparently desperate to be born. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck as she baulked against her instincts, her tight belly was radiating heat like a furnace and she wanted to turn up the air conditioning but daren’t take her hands off the wheel. Her tight grip was the only thing keeping things together, her fingers digging deep into the leather keeping her laser focused on the journey.

Two more contractions passed with that excruciating pressure, the gaps between almost non-existent. The baby’s head was right between her thighs, she could feel it, bulging obscenely into her underwear. Her upright position was agony, feeling like she was practically sitting on the baby’s head. With the next contraction her body slumped, acting without any instruction, trying to relieve the pressure that was bringing tears to her eyes. The pain and pressure was rising up and up and Rosie had no choice but to push with the barrelling force, grunting and widening her legs in the process.

“…Rosie…?” Jack’s concerned voice whispered out the speakers.

She opened her mouth to reply but her body had other ideas and all that came out was a lowing groan as her body bore down against the solid mass in her cervix.

“Are you pushing?!” Jack yelled down the phone.

“Mnghh-trying-not-to- ughhh! Oh fuck!” She gasped.

“Stop! Don’t push. You can’t be pushing now!”

“Try telling our b-baby that— ooohhhhh mmnghhhhhhhh!!” Rosie gripped the steering wheel and sank into the seat, uncontrollably bearing down.

“Rosie pull over, the baby is coming now.”

“Mnnnghh… no! It’s not c-crowning… I can hold it -hooo- in… I’m just down the r-road…” The baby was right at her entrance, her labia bulging and sore against her clothing, but she could make it. She was so close to home.

“For fucks sake Rosie.”

“Oh Jack!” Rosie suddenly cried, her body still bearing down even without her help and she felt her lips start to part. “The head… I think it’s coming - grrrhhhhh— out!! … I’m— I’m trying not to push but I can’t stop it— grhhhhhhh oh god!!!”

“Rosie, stop the damn car!!!” Jack screamed down the phone.

The labouring woman’s foot had come off the pedal already, the car rolling along the quiet rural street. She should brake and safely stop the car, but she wasn’t in control of her body - it was too busy pushing against the heavy boulder in her vagina. The car thankfully slowed to a stop at the side of the road and in between frantic pushes Rosie managed to put the car into “park”.

“Ooohhh Jack… I can feel the head…” she cried out as the round shape pushed against her folds. Rosie tried to lift her knees, to make more space, but the steering wheel blocked any real movement.

“Have your waters broken hun?” Jack’s voice was strained in his attempt to stay calm.

“Nnghh…they-broke-at-the-mall-mmmghhhh…!” Gritting her teeth Rosie disappears into another deep and primal push, her body taking charge determined to get this baby out.

“Fuck. Okay… honey I need you to listen to me; I need you to try and see how much of the baby has come out. Can you do that?”

Rosie panted and nodded her head, forgetting for a moment that Jack couldn’t see her. “…yeah. I’ll try…” she added.

Knowing that removing her clothing wasn’t an option in this position, Rosie moved a nervous hand around her big belly between her spread thighs and felt the clear shape of the top of the baby's head through her leggings.

“It’s poking out a bit but— hooohooo- it’s not fully out yet.” She whimpered and sobbed, the realisation of her situation hitting her full force with the first contact with her baby. She was trapped in her car at the side of a road giving birth.

“Where are you babes? I’m gonna call an ambulance.” Jack's heart was breaking, not only for missing the birth of his child but also not being there to support his soul mate during all this.

“At-the end- of our road… oh Jack,” she whined with fear and tears “I need you. I can’t do this.” Her chest heaved with her rapid breathing, the pressure was overwhelming and her labia was on fire.

Jack flew out of the house so fast he didn’t even shut the front door behind him when he sped down the street, running. “Just hold on Rosie, I’m coming.” He panted down the phone, his legs burning with the sudden physical movement.

“Ohhhh the baby’s coming… I need to push again— ughh…no…have to pushhhh but— mmmnnnghhh!!!— not enough room! ” Rosie was panicking, her legs were as wide as she could get them in the driver's seat but it wasn’t enough to make space for the emerging baby. Her body was too upright, her belly too squished, her legs too close for the large head to get through her birth canal.

“I can see the car Rosie, I’m coming, hold on just a little bit longer.”

“Mnnghhhhh!!!!” Rosie was completely lost to another uncontrollable bout of pushing. When the contraction waned, enough to somewhat control the urge, Rosie threw open the car door and swung her legs out immediately. “Hoooo-hooo… baby hang on just a minute… just give me one minute…ohhhh”

Awkwardly and cumbersomely Rosie managed to pull her body out of the low car seat, gripping the car door and heaving her labouring body to stand. The weight in her womb suddenly dropped even lower, the head pressing against her opening and stretching her lips wider than she thought possible, the baby fully crowning between her legs. “Ohhhhhhhh…shit!!.” She turned around and braced against the door as the baby’s movements prompted another contraction. Before she could take a breath her body was already bearing down and her knees widened and trembled. The car was still running, the phone call with her husband still connected, but she couldn’t speak. All that she could think was getting this baby out and getting it out right-fucking-now.

A long animalistic grunting sound came out her throat as she dipped into a deep push. The baby’s head was slipping beyond the crown into her clothing, pushing against her maternity leggings and bulging it down. A gasp, a desperate gulp of air, was all she was given before she was pushing again giving it everything she had.

If the car wasn’t already in Jack’s eyesight, Rosie’s loud roar would have told the anxious father exactly where his wife was at that moment. He watched her pull herself out the car, her face flushed and exhausted, her hair limp and damp on her shoulders. He thought she must have seen him, and was getting out to get to him, but when she turned around and grunted deeply Jack almost froze in fear. This was really happening, their baby was actually coming, here and now. The car door blocked the view of his labouring wife but her cries echoed down the country road and he could see her body dipping down and bouncing back up. She was pushing, that much was evident, but he was panicked at what he'd find when he’d reach her.

“Rosie!!” Jack shouted as he approached. She turned, tears falling from her cheeks, but her eyes widened with relief for a split second when she saw him. Her mouth opened to shout back but instead the relieved look in her eyes vanished and another groan spilled from her lips as she clasped back on to the car door and pushed again uncontrollably.

Jack could see her body was trembling from head to toe with the strain, and when he passed the open car door he could see why - there was a giant round shape pulling at the crotch of her leggings.

“Jack— the head— hooooo I think it’s out…” Rosie panted, still clinging onto the vehicle for dear life.

“Oh my god. Oh Rosie…” words failed him and his arms went around her back.

“Get them off! Get my leggings off!” She growled through clenched teeth.

“Right… errr of course.” Jack stuttered, completely lost and uncertain. He pulled the clothing down over his wife’s hips and was immediately greeted with the face of his newborn child. “You’re right, heads out I can see them! Oh my gosh hi baby!”

“Mmnngh— Jack… is there a chord? Round the neck?” Rosie shifted awkwardly from hip to hip, leggings bunched at her knees, as she felt the start of the next contraction coming.

“I— I don’t think so. How do I check?”

“Can you see anything— wrapped around the neck?? Ohhhhhh hurry… there’s so much pressure… I’m trying really hard not to push…” Rosie balled her fists and dug her nails into her palms.

“No… nothing is round the neck.” Jack confirmed.

“Ohhhh great. Get— hoooo get ready to c-catch!!…” Rosie warned before taking a gulp of air and clamping her mouth shut as she pushed. Her hips dropped and knees bent, almost into a squat, with the force of her push. She tried to open herself as much as she could, the shoulders pressing against her opening. “Mnnnghhhh— come on baby…!!!” She cried and bore down, growling with the effort and eventually feeling the baby move downwards. “It’s coming— out!!!”

With a gush of fluid the baby slipped from Rosie into Jack’s awaiting hands and immediately gurgled a soft cry.

[angryraptor13]

DPxDC: Haunted Car

Say Constantine has been tracking a car that tends to attract lethal teenage-driving accidents; whether it's haunted or cursed or something else, he's not entirely sure. But he's finally tracked the damn thing down, freshly purchased by some Wayne-bait teenager, and decides to just exorcise it on the down-low. Easy, in-and-out, kid would never know there was a problem.

Except he can't find any curse or ghost, on it or in it.

Though there had definitely been a scary strong ghost in the car *recently*; the ecto-signature was distressingly similar to that of the new King of the Infinite Realms. Had someone contracted the new guy just to off this random kid??

... Ah. Kid's the son of some ghost hunters. That's a nasty sense of irony someone has there; but who would have both the means & the motive??

---

Meanwhile, Jazz is going full Therapist Mode on the extremely traumatized spirit who Danny had found bound to a cursed amulet in his new-to-you car. Danny's making them some ecto-cocoa & smothering them in his fuzziest warm blanket. Yeah, mind control sucks, bud. It's not your fault! And you still drive better than my dad, LOL.

[idontcaboose]

Haunter car au, pt 7?

Ngl, the past few chapters have fought me harder than giving the half feral cat my brother brought home a bath. I have deleted 3 potential full chapters and have needed to rewrite my bullet points. That being said, the likelihood of more than just Constantine being run over just went up.

P.s. my buffer chapters also got caught in the deleting because that flow was not having it. The only solace is that my last post was actually the perfect place to change direction. Have fun with a short Bruce chapter, cause Danny is going to have all the fun next chapter.

P.P.S. Look, a masterpost!

Previous. Masterpost?!

Bruce was in pain. Alfred gave him some of the good pain medication, but did not think the bruised to the point of almost fractured ribs and sprained shoulder needed the iv pain medication. The concussion was also minor, so Alfred gave him the mandatory 8 hours plus 6 more for the concussion, and added a ban on patrol for a few days because of the ribs and shoulder. Bruce could still check on cases and basic maintenance of gear until the stoic butler mother-henned him back to bed. Alfred had mentioned that the Batmobile was reported to be feeling a bit off by Duke, but it was followed up by Alfred asking telling him to park better next time.

Bruce made his way down to the cave to find Duke exiting the Batmobile. 

“Duke, Alfred mentioned something about the car. Do you know what was causing the problems?” Bruce was hoping that it was a simple fix.

“Ye- yeah, I think I want to try my hand in its maintenance though. Do you think you could have this one labeled as off patrol until I get it back up to snuff?” 

“We could work on it together, do you want to get it on the lift?” 

Bruce wasn't completely sure what response he was expecting from Duke, but a startled panic was not on the list.

“Uh-um, Bruce, you have a concussion working with any sort of machinery would be bad. Maybe next time you do a tune-up, I could join you?”

“Duke, what is wrong with the Batmobile?”

“I- I, uuuh.”

BEEEEP

BEEEEEEEEPPP

BEEEEEEEEEEEPPPP

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