#Danny has wanted a vacation for a while

[nelkcats]

Family Trip

Danny loved her, like a sister, a daughter or something in between, but Ellie was happy as long as he was there to take care of her. She felt protected but couldn't stay forever.

She had already explored the whole world, and as interesting as the Infinite Realms seemed in reality they didn't interest her that much. Ellie was sure she needed to go further, but she didn't know how to let Danny know. So she simply told him straight out, that the universe they were in was no longer enough for her.

Danny accepted it, and told her that there were many other universes that she could explore, he told her that Clockwork had told him about some of them. Ellie was excited, she could travel more, but for the first time she hesitated, and realized that she didn't want to travel alone.

She asked Danny if he wanted to travel with her and he gave her the flattest look in existence.

"Obviously I'm going to travel with you" he said. And that was that. No discussion, no questions asked.

They both packed a couple of backpacks as if they were going hiking and asked Clockwork. He just tossed them Dan's thermos before offering them a method of travel. Danny frowned but opened the thermos anyway and dragged Dan with them as he yelled about injustices and upset families.

They ended up in Gotham, in front of a man with a helmet and a guy dressed as a stoplight. Danny waved and asked them for a chat (he probably wanted to ask for directions) while Dan sulked in the back. Ellie looked at the architecture curiously.

Unfortunately for Danny, the stoplight guy pulled out a sword and the helmet guy pulled out a gun. They both looked tense as they looked between the three of them. Danny frowned (his green eyes glinting with annoyance) before nodding towards Ellie and Dan and disappearing.

Thus began their vacation in a world where everyone wanted to shoot them; Danny felt at home, Dan wanted to steal an exotic candy called crypto-something and Ellie was happy to explore.

Their family trip had officially begun.

[radiance1]

Alfred Pennyworth has in fact, perhaps, in the slightest of chances.

Picked up his Master's habit of collecting children as if they were on sale.

He was spending his time on one of those rare vacations he decided to take, it was nice, to relax with only the vague overhanging worry of something going wrong back at the manor that he's gotten very good at ignoring.

Only to come across a child bleeding out in an alley, heavily injured.

He would not be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to help them however he could.

Such is how he acquired a child he later found to be a meta who whished to learn the ways of a butler.

---

Danny had escaped from a GIW compound, after having been handed over by his family a while after his reveal. He felt, completely and utterly betrayed, when it happened. His parents, while hurt, he was at least capable of actually seeing them do it, but never would he have thought Jazz would do so as well.

They did it so happily, that he wondered if letting him go really was the greatest thing to happen to this family.

He chained, muzzled, all the ways to bind him they pulled all the stops too, knowing how dangerous he was. He wouldn't have even done anything then, too stunned by his families apart willingness at handing him over to the government.

He hated them.

He hated them so much.

The GIW facility was a terrible, cold, unfeeling place. One where they drilled thoughts into his head again and again until he found himself unconsciously repeating them when his head felt empty, one where his body gained a new mark day by day and pushed through tests, he had no clue of even hoping to comprehend what they would gain out of it.

It was a cold, unfeeling place. Placed in a cell of white and nothing else, with low walls and chains binding his body in place until the time came for another experiment.

It was a room he grew used to. One he even held some kind of strange, twisted affection for.

It was a room that held a tiny piece of safety, of rest. It was a room that taught him to hate.

A deep, powerful, disgusting, twisting hatred that crawled from the depths of his cells, corrupting his blood and carving itself deep into his bones. Forcing it's out of his pores until it practically oozed from his flesh.

It drowned his mind, tainting each and every thought, every memory, every dream, every waking moment until he could feel nothing but hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate.

When he was taken out of that he could feel nothing, with the drugs swimming their way through his blood that snapped the thin string keeping him between a person and an emotionless puppet.

He thinks that's what the GIW thinks he is.

And when he was placed back in that room, he could only hate.

It was a cycle. Stuck between feeling either nothing or hatred.

He hated feeling nothing, it made him feel like he wasn't real. Like it snapped the thread that held him between what a real person was and a dream.

So, he allowed himself to drown deep into his hatred. Until the white walls of his far to small room seemed to fade, until whatever sound he could have heard became nothing but dull noise.

Until the passage of time seemed to become just a blink.

He didn't know what day it was, when he saw it. Saw them. He didn't know the time, the date, the day, the hours. He knew nothing.

But he could recognize his family. Recognize one of the objects of his intense hatred that he forced his thoughts too. The people who willingly gave him up just like that and one of the causes for his current life.

He didn't know why they showed him them, he felt it some sick, utterly cruel joke. A joke he didn't know the punchline for, a joke the universe sent his way to make his life all the more miserable.

There were multiple of them. Multiple clones of his family. Som within test tubes, some being pulled out from the tubes, some walking around in lab coats. A waste of talent, they called it in his dad's case, a waste of intelligence in his mother's, and a waste of intellect in his sister's case.

His original family was already dead, he was told. Replaced by clones, clones that took over the legal decision to change his guardianship. Clones walking around twisting and desecrating his family.

'At least it was painless.' One of the clones said, talking with his mother's face. 'Far more than they deserved for having keeping a thing like him' spoken by his father's imposter.

The drugs pumping through his system to keep him calm, to keep him feeling nothing was suddenly pierced through by an intense feeling of horror, hate and self-loathing.

He should've known it wasn't his family. He should've done more! More to protect them! To keep them safe! The could've still been alive if he just knew.

In that moment, watching imposters speaking, walking, talking, breathing, with his families faces. He exploded. Exploded with a power fueled by nothing but his intense hatred for every. Single. Living being in this goddamn facility.

He killed whoever stood in his way. Managing to get his hands on relatively newly designed weapon, an ectoplasmic scythe (that also apparently could revert into an everyday item). Which he used to rip and tear throughout the entirety of the facility. He got injured, of course, he couldn't dodge everything, but he didn't care.

A body stuck between life and death, incapable of fully going one way or the other no matter what happened. Gifted supernatural powers fueled by wrath and twisting hatred and a weapon made by man yet in the range of the supernatural.

They didn't stand a change. He killed them all. No matter who it was, man, woman, clone. He didn't, couldn't care. He could only kill, only maim, only hurt.

And that's what he did.

It was then, when the facility was blanketed with silence tainted by despair, death and hysteria. When previously white walls were covered by blood, and the halls turned into rivers of blood and corpses. That he broke down, the overwhelming hatred he felt replaced by relief then sadness then self-loathing.

His family didn't give him up! But they were killed. Kill because of him. He couldn't stand being in this place, anymore. His body felt as if it were moving on unseen strings as it walked through the halls, the scythe shrinking back what it was when out of combat, his mind too occupied by thoughts and feelings.

It walked through a portal, one to the ghost zone, and then promptly into another portal and spat him out into an alleyway. Which he then promptly collapsed and curled into a ball, curing the shrunken scythe in his palm and he was out like a light.

A few days after he woke up, he found himself growing attached to the human that found him in that alleyway. An old man, maybe, but a nice one. He didn't want to meet anyone, besides that man, so he turned invisible when anyone else come into contact with him.

Alfred Pennyworth.

It was a name he clung onto mentally and a man he clung onto physically as well. He wanted to be like that man, someone so nice and caring, someone who didn't mind that he turned invisible at the sing of another person, who let him cling onto him both invisible and not whenever he wanted to.

He did panic when he heard Alred saying his vacation was over, and such that he had to leave. He didn't want to be left alone again, he didn't know what he would do if he was left alone again.

Until Afred said we were going home.

We. As in, him plus another. Alfred plus Danny.

Home.

Heat blossomed in his chest, seeming to replace the constant, low hum of hate sitting beneath him skin.

Home.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[dclovesdanny]

Dcxdp

Dan/Danny/Dani 5/5

Danny has been working at the Daily Planet for almost eight months, and everyone on staff knew he wasn’t human, or at least not fully. No one minded. He was a great employee, nice guy, and everyone joked he was like a skinnier, slightly more feral version of Clark.

None of them could remember who started the bet, but it has been started after overhearing Danny make a joke to his friend Sam, who was visiting from Gotham.

“I’m only human, well half anyway.”

The flippant comment as he left with his friend was obviously not meant for them, but it snowballed into an office wide betting pool with over 2 grand and three paid vacation days,(Perry had gotten involved) on the line.

However, there were three main camps. Sure, a few others in the office had wilder theories, like him being half mermaid or something, but most of the office was split into the camps.

The first camp, lead by Jimmy, was adamant Danny was half vampire. They supported this theory with his weirdly shiny skin, how quiet he was, how pale he was, and how pointed his canines were, as well as how he constantly seemed exhausted.

The second camp, being lead mostly by Perry, though Danny was part Fae. The shiny skin was also used as a point in their favor, as well as his penchant for finding loopholes and how terrible he was at lying, especially since it seemed to physically pain him(Danny is just a shit liar).

The third camp, run by Lois, firmly believed he was half alien. They all pointed to his fascination with space, his odd strength, his mumbled comments about not being used to food not fighting back, and the way his eyes flashed green as proof.

Clark was in charge of keeping track of the bets, and didn’t have an opinion. (He also helped everyone hide the betting ring from Danny, especially since they didn’t want to force him to tell them anything.) A newer employee named Wes Weston even helped him keep track.

Meanwhile, Wes keeps sending Danny screenshots of everything so he can know what to do next.(Wes still feels guilty about attempting to out him as phantom, and while Danny didn’t blame him anymore, he was more than willing to take his help in messing with his new coworkers.)

[postracehair]

fracture

max verstappen x reader | 3.5k

max breaks his wrist during the first week of the off-season.

cw: max breaks his arm, r is a bit rattled, some blood, a naked shower, intimacy, mentions of sex

a/n: c'mon. you know he'd be so annoying. good thing we love him. [i wrote this before the season ended and then...never posted it. so, here, have it before we start all this shit over again in a few weeks.]

__

You are not there when it happens.

You're asleep, actually, curled up on Max's couch with the cats while he enjoys the first week of the off-season. The celebrations have ended and there is a great deal of work to be done in the next few months, but everyone gets a little bit of respite.

Vacation will come after the holidays. That's the plan, anyway. The last few days have seen you in Monaco, mostly inside Max's place. Just spending time together, relaxing, watching movies, rumpling his sheets. Today, though, he and Danny decided to go on a world-class-athlete-level bike ride.

Which is why you're on the couch. They've been gone all day and you don't expect Max to get home until later. You ran errands, cleaned a little, and then took an afternoon nap.

As you rouse from it, you fumble for your phone to check the time. The screen lights up and you're greeted with --

35 texts. 4 missed calls.

"What the hell?" you mutter, sitting up and opening everything.

DR: sorry for the three calls don't freak out but i think max broke his arm

DR: he says you're probably napping but i'm going to document this for when you wake up

DR: he's fine but yeah that shit is fucked

DR: he says not to tell you he fell off his bike but he fell off his bike

DR: he braked for some animal in the road and went over his handlebars

DR: oh he also scraped his face but he's still pretty, don't worry

DR: his palms are fucked though which is why he's not texting you

DR: we're on the way to the hospital, btw

DR: you're gonna be so pissed when you wake up

It goes on like that. Daniel, to his credit, has given you a play-by-play of the whole situation. You've only been asleep for about an hour and based on the time stamps this started right after you fell asleep.

You get up as you read, grabbing your things and trying to find your shoes as you read. You need to -- you need to go and be wherever they are. You need to help. Heart racing, chest tight, you need to be near Max as soon as possible, even though Danny said he's okay. If this was you, Max would already be there. God, why did you take a nap?

According to the texts, they got to the hospital and he was seen immedietly, x-rayed, and bandaged up. Broken right wrist, Danny had said. He's pissed more than anything.

You're about to call him back when your phone rings in your hands.

"Danny," you say as soon as you accept it.

"Oh, thank fuck," Daniel exclaims. "I thought I was going to have to surprise you in person with the whole thing."

"I'm about to leave, just give me 15 minutes to get there--"

"No, no, no," he interrupts you. "He just got discharged. I'm bringing him home."

You stop in your tracks, one foot shoved halfway into your sneaker. "Really?"

"Yeah, we'll be there in like, 20 minutes?" You can hear Max saying something in the background. "He wants to talk to you," Danny sighs. "Mate, you'll see her soon--"

He's cut off and there's some muffled noises and then Max is saying your name.

"I'm fine," he says. "I only made him tell you so it wasn't a surprise when I came home."

"Max," you sigh, shoulders creeping away from your ears at the sound of his voice. "I'm so sorry, I was asleep!"

He laughs. You feel a bit weepy, which is both an overreaction and cathartic. "Good," he says. "The whole experience has been a pain in the ass."

"You're coming home now? Are you in pain?"

"Eh," he says, dragging out the sound. "They gave me something while they set it so I don't feel it much. Daniel says we'll be home soon. Oh, hold on --" There is some muttering, Danny's voice in the background. "Okay, I'm going to give you back. See you soon, liefje."

"Okay," you say softly.

"Be there in a flash!" Danny says brightly. "Seriously, don't worry."

You hang up and just stand in the hallway, at a loss. Something bad happened to Max and you weren't there. It feels wrong. Not that he's in poor hands with Danny -- quite the opposite. He's probably the only person aside from yourself that you'd want there for Max in a crisis. But, god. You wish you had been there.

The cats weave around your ankles as you pace, waiting for Danny to call or for the door to open or, anything at all to happen. Your mind is running a million miles a minute. Objectively, it's the best time for Max to break something. There isn't even a car for him to test right now and he had at least another week of time off before needing to go back to Milton Keynes. This might throw a wrench in your holiday plans but you couldn't care less about that. How long will he be in a cast? You assume he's in a cast. What kind of help will he need? Will you be enough to provide it? What if he --

Noises in the hall make you freeze and then you hear Danny's voice. You bolt to the door, unlatching the locks and pulling it open. You're greeted with the sight of the two of them -- Danny looking down at Max's keys in his hands, both of their backpacks on his back. They've both changed out of whatever ridiculous bike outfit they must have been wearing for the ride, but you devote your attention to your boyfriend.

You can see the bandages on Max's knees and forearms where he must have scraped himself up on the road. His wrist -- it's in a black cast that runs the length of his forearm. He cradles it to his chest in a sling they must have given him and then you make your way to his face. A few scratches along one cheek, hair a mess, mouth drawn into a frown. A frown that relaxes slightly when you meet his gaze. Your eyes well with tears.

"Max," you breathe. He steps in front of Danny and meets you in the doorway, his cast-free hand cupping your face through the bandages on his palm.

"I'm fine," he says. "You're looking at me like I'm in a coma."

"Sorry," you whisper. "I just --"

He tugs you to him gently, pressing your face into his neck and rubbing your back. You try to be careful of his arm as you breathe deep and will yourself not to actually lose it.

"Guys, can we at least go inside?" Danny asks.

Max huffs and you pull away. He drags his thumb under both of your eyes but doesn't comment on the dampness he finds there. "Inside, liefje."

Danny drops Max's stuff and passes along the documents from the hospital. He's quite the personality but he's all business when he needs to be. "Pain killers in his bag. Call me if you need anything, guys."

You step away from Max long enough to throw your arms around Danny. "Thank you," you whisper. "For looking after him." For calling. For bringing him back to me. For doing what I should have been there for.

He chuckles. "Alright," he says. "Max should break something more often."

Once Danny leaves, it's just the two of you. Max has settled on the couch, head leaning back into the cushions.

"Come sit with me," Max calls. "God, I forgot how much I hate hospitals."

His eyes are closed and he holds his arm gingerly. It's not the first time you've seen him injured -- you've been at his side in the medical tent before after watching him careen into a wall at 190mph. And yet, right now, you're still so upset.

You settle into the cushions on his left side and just watch him.

"I'm sorry," you say again. Max's eyes open. "I can't believe I was asleep when Danny called."

Max shakes his head. "What would you have done?"

"I could have come to get you and take you to the hospital, or just met you there, or--"

He puts his hand on your knee. "Come on," he says. "Don't be silly."

How do you explain it to him? How do you tell him that something happening to him feels like it happened to you? That not being there feels like a personal failing?

"Will you tell me what happened?"

He sighs and you pull his palm from your leg to hold it in your hands.

"It's stupid," he grimaces. "You don't need the details."

"Max."

He folds. Other people in his life have called this your superpower -- Max's will is iron clad. It is very difficult to get him to do something he does not want to do. But one word from you, one soft look, one gentle touch, and he often relents. It's like you can peel back that layer of him that has hardened out of necessity. To protect himself and his heart, to make sure he's taken seriously, to stop things from hurting.

It's like you remind him that it's okay to feel, even when it's hard.

"Daniel summed it up," he grumbles. "We were biking down a hill outside the city and something ran out into the road in front of me. I stopped. Or tried to, at least." He mimes squeezing the breaks, fingers curling in towards his bandaged palms. You stroke his unbroken wrist with your thumb.

"And you went over," you finish.

"And I went over. Got my knees, my forearms, my hands. My wrist, obviously. Just landed badly."

You reach for his face ever so gently, dragging the pad of your thumb over the shallow scrapes on his chin, his cheek. He allows it, knowing that you need to touch him to be sure he's okay. Whenever he has a crash on track you have trouble letting him out of your sight for hours. You just need to look at him, feel him warm and alive under your hands.

"I'm going to write a letter to your helmet manufacturer," you say, not entirely kidding. You slide your hand over his temple and into his hair. It's dirty, you can feel it, but you cradle his skull all the same. "Thank them."

He laughs once, amused with your sincerity. "I need to shower," he says. "But I can't get this wet." You finally direct your attention to his broken wrist, the entirety of his forearm and hand encased in the cast under the sling.

"Does it hurt?" you ask again. Max would tell anyone else off for badgering him so, but he keeps his face soft and reassures you.

"It's strange," he says. "I'm sure I'll feel it later."

"Did it hurt?" you whisper. "When you broke it?"

You know that Max has felt a great deal of pain in his life. His day job requires it -- physical, mental, emotional. He knows how to handle it and get over it. But he's also honest with you, always.

He wrinkles his nose. "It wasn't nice," he confesses. "I knew right away."

You grimace. In the silence, you match your breaths to his and just sit together for a little while.

And then Max's stomach growls.

"Whoops," he says, grinning crookedly. Still an athlete, still a boy with a fast metabolism. You can't help but laugh.

"How about this," you begin, unfolding yourself from the couch and standing in front of him, hands on your hips. Max looks up at you like you're the best thing he's ever seen. "I order some food and then we get you showered while we wait for it. Let the scrapes breathe and keep your cast dry, then we eat and watch a movie and go to bed. Okay?"

"We get me showered?" He sounds skeptical.

"You think you can wash your hair on your own?"

He smirks. "I can do a lot with one hand."

You roll your eyes. "So you're turning down an opportunity to shower with me, is what I'm hearing."

Max gets himself off the couch and rests his palm on your hip. "No," he says softly. "I'm not that stupid."

He kisses you lightly and heads for the bathroom.

"I guess we can wrap it in a plastic bag, or something?" you call after him. It takes a few minutes of opening and closing cabinets for you to find one. You put in a delivery order and make your way to the bathroom. Max has already turned on the shower and you find him shirtless and peeling off his bandages in in front of the mirror.

"Let me do that." He doesn't put up much of a fight, not even wincing when the tape pull at his skin. You see the gashes on his forearm, the raw skin of his palms. "Arm, please." The plastic bag goes around his cast and you tie it at his elbow.

"You planning to wash my hair while wearing your clothes?" Max asks with a straight face.

You stare at him, trying to seem unimpressed. He breaks first, mouth pulling up at one corner before he shucks off his soft shorts and briefs in one go. He pecks you on the cheek and gets in the shower, still smirking at you through the glass door.

"Alright, alright," you mutter. "So dramatic."

You feel Max's eyes on you as you undress, leaving your clothes on a pile on the floor.

The shower is unnecessarily big but Max does not give you much space. The hot spray is at his back and he keeps his plastic bag-clad arm mostly out of the way.

"Feel good?" you ask. Max sighs but nods. You'll bet he's aching but hasn't admitted it. He turns to the side so you can catch some of the spray, too, fighting off the chill outside the warm water.

"I might fall asleep in here," he mutters.

"That'll be the painkillers, darling," you tell him. "C'mon, get your hair wet."

Max tips his head back. You readjust so that you can card your hands through it. You shampoo him gently, taking your time and massaging his scalp. It's a miracle he stays on his feet, but he does. You hum as you work and Max's breaths get deeper, slower.

"Head back," you say softly. He obeys. You do the same with some of your conditioner because you know he likes how it smells.

This shower feels more intimate than the countless hours you've spend in his bed, tangled up in one another. He's been inside you and yet this feels more vulnerable. He's totally ceding control, trusting you to take care of him. You're naked, slick bodies brushing, always touching whether it's your hands in his hair or Max's own fingers reaching for your skin just to feel.

One time, when you were sick, you couldn't muster the energy to take a shower. Max ran you a bath and washed your hair for you, talking all the while because you asked to hear his voice. It's obvious that you'd do the same for him, as you're doing now. It's just how you love each other -- all the way, all the time. When it's easy and when it's hard.

"Danny was right," Max says, words slurring half from bliss and half the fatigue of the day catching up to him. "I should break bones more often."

You finish rinsing him and just stand there in the spray for a few moments.

"Please, no," you groan, brushing wet strands back from his forehead. "If you want me to wash your hair I will, Max. You don't need to break anything."

His eyes flutter open and find yours. He smiles lazily and you turn off the shower.

"If you say so," he says. "Can we take this off, now?"

Bag removed, skin patted dry, comifes on. The food comes when you're settling Max on the couch with a pillow for his arm. In all likelihood he'll manage a few bites of take out and fall asleep 15 minutes into the movie. But he needs the rest, you think. And besides, he'll have you to watch over him.

__

It becomes clear remarkably quickly that Max is an awful patient. You sort of knew this -- he's been sick a few times when you're around, but you figured that was just man-disease. Whining, refusing to sit still. This is 10x worse. He won't let you do anything for him until he's proven that he can't do it himself. You consider locking him in your bedroom to keep him from trying to do things he shouldn't do.

Max just wasn't made to sit still.

But you can empathize -- it's frustrating to not be able to do any of the things he really likes to do. Drive, use his sim, even play regular video games. It's a lot of movies and long walks and leg days with his trainer.

And then there's the way he just won't ask for help. That's a Max Verstappen original and you know it gets worse when he's frustrated. You do it too -- everyone does. But Max wants to do everything himself, wants to prove that he can.

You try to sit back and let him work it out. About a week after he comes home with his arm in a cast, he calls your name. You're in the kitchen, staring into the open fridge and wondering if you should order more groceries or just go to the shops yourself.

"You okay?" you call back. "Where are you?"

"Bathroom,"he shouts.

Ah, you think. Here we go.

He hasn't shaved yet. You've always loved when he keeps his facial hair a little longer. You love the feel of it on your skin and how it lightens along with his hair when you're on holiday somewhere nice. It's more likely that he keep it long in the off-season. Hot races are a nightmare with a beard, he's said. It itches like mad.

"Coming," you call.

Sure enough, you find him in front of the sink, razor in hand and frown firmly in place. He makes eye contact with you in the mirror and even though you can feel his annoyance from here, the set of his jaw softens.

"Do you think you could help me shave?" he asks. No lead up, no hem and haw.

"Of course, Max."

You quickly work out that sitting on the counter next to the sink while he stands between your knees works best. His broken wrist hangs at his side, the other hand resting on the counter next to your leg.

You lather him up, carefully applying the white foam of his shaving cream on his cheeks, his chin, his neck. He's got a fancy razor, one that will probably make it hard to cut him. Still, you feel the way he's basically handed you a blade and asked you to use it on him. In so many ways it's one of the most intimate things you've ever done. Even more than the showers you've had this week, just chatting and washing his hair.

"I'll be careful," you say softly.

"I know." He tilts his chin up, showing you his neck. "Go on, then."

It's quiet work. You're focusing hard and Max seems content to allow you. Stroke after stroke, rinsing the razor in the sink. You keep one hand at the base of this throat as the other works, gliding it over his skin. Cheeks, jaw, upper lip. Chin, neck.

"I like your beard, you know," you say when you're almost done. He waits until you're rinsing the razor again to reply.

"I do," he says, smirking. "You aren't quiet about it."

The last patch comes off as easily as the rest and you grab a damp towel to clean the rest of the shaving cream. Max appears to have relaxed enough to become pliant, leaning into your touch as you finish. He lets you rub moisturizer into his cheeks, eyes fluttering closed. His hand ends up on your leg, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thigh.

"Cheeky," you mutter. He smiles, boyish and easy. You take your time, pleased that he's letting you, but also because you could touch him forever. "Schatje," you whisper, trying to make it sound like it does from his lips. "All done."

Max doesn't move. You frame his face with your hands and lean in until your lips touch. You feel his smile against yours, but he dutifully tilts his head to deepen the kiss. His freshly shaved skin is so soft. You've kissed thousands of times by now, but you can never get enough of him. The way he responds to your every move, meeting your pressure with some of his own. Your tongue with his, swallowing your moans and giving you his own like a gift.

It's Max who pulls away, dragging his lips over your cheek.

"Dankje," he whispers. It means more than that, you know. From Max, it means thank you for dealing with me, for taking care of me, for loving me.

He doesn't think any of that is easy for you. But he's wrong. It's the easiest thing in the world.

[dcxdpdabbles]

More Alley Boyfriends please?!?!

(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ

(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ

(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ

(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ

(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ

(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ(づ☯人☯)づ

"Tim," The sharp bark of his name takes him by surprise, so much so that he nearly falls off his bike. Tim manages to catch his footing, though he knows Bruce saw him stumble while trying to mount his bike.

It was a bit embarrassing, since Tim hadn't allowed himself to be clumsy around his Red Bird since his Robin days. If only no one else had seen it. But alas, it wasn't just Bruce who witnessed his slight fumble.

By that, he meant everyone in the cave was staring at him, with various expressions on their faces that were hard to decipher without any form of mind-reading. Which was odd, to say the least.

Why were they all so focused on him, not the usual post-patrol routine?

"Um, yeah?" He turns his attention to Bruce, adjusting the balance of his bike under him. He tries not to let his impatience leak into his voice, but today's patrol was annoyingly long, even though they hadn't been much crime to take care of.

Sure, the Bats had stopped a mugging or two, and yeah, Tim did find some new evidence for a cold case he's been trying to crack for the last five months, but that was a short burst of activity over many hours. It was agonizing to fly around the city, waiting for the time to pass when nothing significant happened.

It felt like such a waste.

Or maybe he was just impatient for the weekend to officially start, and the clock's ticking seemed to slow down when he wanted it to go faster.

After all, this weekend wasn't his average one. He had plans for once that he couldn't wait for. Tim was going on a small vacation for the first time since becoming Robin, which meant no Wayne Enterprise, no Red Robin, and no Young Justice.

Nothing.

Just Tim Drake enjoying his time off camping with his dear coffee-making roommate.

Danny had been talking about the Dark Sky reservation in a nearby national park for some time, and this Saturday was the famous meteor shower, Pariah's Defeat, that Danny wanted to see.

It came only once every fifty years and was said to have dozens of spectacular glowing streaks across the sky, ending with a large comet. His roommate had been talking about watching the live stream for weeks, with the same excitement Tim felt when new items were added to Heart Attack.

Tim wasn't sure what drove him to rent the RV or tell Tam he would be out of the office for a whole week (much to her surprise). He actually didn't really think about it. It wasn't until after he got the email confirmations for the RV rental center or the national park main office that he even realized what that meant.

Still, when he told Danny he rented out a space in the National Park, right in the best spot for the metro shower (pulling his strings and flashing his privlage to make it happened) it had felt like the most fantastic idea he's ever had with the way Danny leaped into his arms jumping up and down with joy.

"Tim," Bruce repeats a little sharper, snapping Tim out of his thoughts about his friend. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

Tim stares, realizing that his family has suddenly surrounded him, no longer just watching from a distance but now only a few feet away. Each of them looks distressed, holding envelopes. What's going on?

"Huh? No, sorry I-"

"A side effect." Jason spits, which is a bit insulting. First, he interrupts him, and then he talks to him that way?

"A side effect of what?"

"I don't know, Tim. Maybe you can tell us what you've been shooting up." Jason all but sneers. He throws a hand to a nearby table, which Tim had noticed earlier. Back then, it was covered in a cloth. Now, it's displayed test tubes and an oddly glowing green liquid.

At first glance, Tim wants to say it's Lazarus water, but he can see how easily it's moving in various separatory funnels connected in glass loops. There is an entire chemistry lab set up there with various Beakers, Erlenmeyer flasks, test tubes, graduated cylinders, volumetric flasks, and burets. Each was holding a bit of that green liquid, but what really caught Tim's attention was the frost forming around each container.

"What is that?" he asks while unmounting his bike. He moves with the intent of expecting the odd liquid, but Dick steps into his path. He blinks up at his stern-looking brother, who crosses his arms and straightens his back upwards.

It's a familiar pose—the kind Dick makes when he's about to start a lecture—but this time, his eyes are large and sad. Like a child who was just told the truth about Santa Claus. Before Tim's team killed him.

Oh, crude was this about Tim killing Santa?

"Tim, you know we love you, right?" Dick starts off, his eyes somehow growing wider. He's a little worried they would pop out of his skull.

"Um, yeah?" Tim replies slowly, glancing around the others only to find them staring just as intensely as Dick. "Did something happen? Why are you all-"

"Tim." Bruce cuts in again, stepping closer and thrusting out the envelope. "We tested it. We know it's a potent substance that causes endorphins, dopamine, and oxytocin to increase alarmingly. It's highly addictive. "

Oh, that made far more sense.

"A new drug, huh?" He sighs, rubbing at his neck. "I can help if it's in danger of spilling into the streets, but I can't move my schedule around this weekend. I'm taking some personal time off."

Bruce's face hardens. "We know Tim."

That draws him up short. The phrase itself is innocent, but the tone implied that Bruce wasn't just talking about his vacation. In fact, it was pointed enough that it felt like he was accusing Tim of something.

"I should hope so? You did sign off on the PTO request-"

"This isn't a game!" Steph snaps like she couldn't hold it in anymore. "We know about Daniel Fenton."

That draws him up short. This is it. The moment Tim had been planning for. His family has finally caught on to the fake boyfriend he had as a facade to cover his coffee addiction. He glances at their faces, taking in their emotions, and then at the table again, remembering Jason's theory.

It seemed the family had chosen to continue thinking Danny was some drug dealer who got Tim hooked on something nasty, but that could only be because they found a connection to the green stuff on the table with Danny. This was an unforeseen obstacle because Tim had no idea what that liquid was.

He knows Danny would never be involved with drugs, not consuming or selling them, but that's because he knows Danny. The many hours they spent together would have given Tim the perfect window to at least suspect something.

Tim knew his friend was innocent. He just had to prove it to them, but based on what he saw, they wouldn't believe him, not without solid evidence.

He had to buy some time, and he knew just how to do it. After all, he had been planning for this very moment. Thank heavens Tim was such a good liar. He could even fool Cass if he had enough prep time.

And he had the prep time.

Allowing his eyes to widen, he wills a blush onto his cheeks, scrambling to shift his body language into that of a closeted gay man about to be outed. He quickly shuts it down, acting as if he wasn't aware he gave a tell to his observing siblings, and shifts a foot. "I don't know what you mean. Who's Daniel Fenotn?"

"Don't pretend," Steph scoffs, stepping closer. The letter in her hand crinkles loudly as she balls her fists. There is anger in her eyes, but it's not as much as there is worry. "Friends don't let friends do this."

Tim bites his lip, swinging his eyes around the room madly, as if searching for an exit. "I seriously don't understand. I've never met the man-"

"Tim," Barbara cuts in with her gentle but stern voice—the kind she uses when she has to deliver bad news. A few taps to her table have the nearby monitors displaying receipts for his new home: the purchase, the movers, the cleaners, and the interior designers—all of it time and date stamped. "I found proof that he's living with you."

On cue, his face goes pasty white, and Tim would have taken some time to gloat about his acting skills were it not in the middle of the performance. "That's- no wait - I can explain. He's just a friend!"

"We know he isn't just a friend, Drake. We know what he really is. This is a terrible disadvantage in the field." Damian starts, and yes, it's perfect, just what Tim needed. Someone implied it was wrong what he and Danny were.

Tim feels tears building in his eyes, but he locks his jaw and blinks quickly- a habit he knows he does when trying not to cry. "No, it's not!"

"Master Tim, please-"

"Danny is the best thing that ever happened to me," He hisses, blinking faster as Cass steps closer, seeing the truth in his words, voice, and body. "I love him! I don't care if you disapprove of him because he's a boy and I-"

"Drugs." Cass interrupts quickly, pushing past a shocked Duke and a slack-jawed Steph. "We thought he was giving you drugs."

"What?" Tim comes to a complete standstill. Gleefully, he realizes that Cass can't tell. She is falling for his acting hook, line, and sinker. At times like these, he is grateful that Kon helped train him to control his body for lying and that Cassie convinced Diana to let them borrow the Lasso of Truth to train against.

He's half convinced Diana only lets them for a laugh or two.

None of them have been able to go against the Lassco, but Tim got way better at lying without it.

"I-no? Danny and I don't do drugs." He splutters, glancing around the family as if they held the answer to his confusion. "Did you think we were doing drugs?"

"Then what's this!?" Jason demands while holding up the strange green liquid. Tim doesn't know and can't even begin to guess, but he has to say something, or Danny could be in more trouble with his family before he can make a solid plan.

He blurts the first thing that comes to his mind.

"I thought that was the new drug you guys were-wait, you think Danny and I were taking that?! I've never seen it before tonight!" Tim gasped, offended, taking steps back.

"It was inside Daniel's bathroom. Hidden in the wall." Bruce challenges. "Why was your boyfriend hiding it?"

Crude. It was in his house?

"I - don't know- I" Tim blinks his eyes again, locking his jaw tightly as if refusing to break down in front of them. Then suddenly he explodes. "It's not.....meant for humans, okay!?

Bruce blinks slowly. "What?"

Crude, crude, crude. What is his mouth even saying? This is why Tim needs time to make solid, foolproof plans.

"Danny isn't a human. If you found that in Danny's walls, then it's his...you know...." He forces himself to blush as hard as possible, as if he were once again a thirteen-year-old boy and Bruce had just found the dirty magazines Bernard had let him under his bed. "The liquid his people make when.....they want children....."

Jaso drops the test tube with a gag but then panics and scrambles to catch it before it shatters. "It's what?!"

"It's not like semen!" Tim blurts, "It's like a liquid pheromone, okay!? Danny said that if he collects it and rubs it into his skin or has it around for him to breathe in, his chances of having a healthy baby are higher and-"

"That's why the DNA tests burned up." Dick gasps looking like the sun came back after months of darkness. "It wasn't human DNA! Daniel isn't human! He's not a drug dealer!"

"Drake." Damian drops the envelope, looking up at him with large doe-green eyes. It's the same look he gives newly born kittens, and suddenly, Tim knows he's done wrong. "Is Fenton carrying your child?"

Mentally, Tim reviews what he blurted out a few minutes ago and realizes with a cold horror that he just implied that, didn't he? Before he can answer, the cave erupts into madness.

In the chaos, he misses Danny's panicked text apologizing for keeping a secret from him. The other man had been pacing back and forth at their home, unable to sleep because of his excitement, when he noticed that the wall hiding his secret was slightly ajar.

Once he realized a full jar was missing, he knew Tim had found the stash and had likely figured out what he was hiding. Danny had started to frantically pack and had run away into the darkness of the night, choking on his tears and feeling his chest rip itself apart as he did so.

All he left behind was one steaming cup of Heart Attack Coffee, aware that their dream of make-believe had finally ended. It was time to wake up and live in a world without Tim again.

Like a coward, he couldn't face it, couldn't bear to hear Tim say the words, so he ran.

It was terrible to realize he was in love with the man.

[knifknighted]

Bruce has to go off-world for something since he does not trust his children to not destroy Gotham while he is gone, he calls up his cousin to watch the kids. (Grown up) Danny shows up and has to wrangle his cousin’s children. Danny is full-on expected to be babysitting a bunch of little kids, he is surprised when most of them are adults.

Bruce's kids didn't expect to have a babysitter---they are not pleased. So they decide to make Danny's job 10x worse.

Danny wasn't originally going to butt into their patrols, but they're being annoying. So Danny messes with them on patrol.

(Alfred is on vacation and the thing Bruce has to deal with is short notice. Bruce did not want to cut Alfred’s vacation short)

[ghostonmainmoon]

The Weaver

Ancient of Space, Weaver of Creation

I had this idea after literally going through her past posts (I literally went on a binge and read her entire masterlist) and just absolutely falling in love with her work @that-weird-thing-in-the-woods

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚ .⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊

Danny's home dimension is destroyed after the GIW decides to try and bomb the Infinite Realms while he is in the Far Frozen for medical help, along with Tucker. They were the only ones to survive the destruction of their planet. Sam didn't survive; She was out of town that day and couldn't go with them. (so no one was there to stop them from doing something stupid), the bombing failed horribly because the Realms sort of just threw it back at them.

The Infinite Realms place is sentient in a way and has its own will. It allowed the portal that initially killed Danny to be created just so she could have her adopted son.

Danny is the Realms Chosen and is practically her baby. There is a noticible difference in the Realms when Danny returns to it from vacation like everything changes.

So basically, Danny has become the Ancient of Space, Weaver of Creation, the Child of the Realms, Father of Stars and Moon, Keeper of the World Tree, Keeper of the Balance, Protector of the Forgotten, Son of Time, The Great One, etc.

He went through a very long period of depression as everything he knew was gone with only a handful still surviving as most didn't. The Ancients or more specifically CW decides enough is enough and he needs to get stuff done

Clockwork has taken over his education along with Frostbite and Pandora and was literally forced feed a shit ton of information about ghost culture, healing, understanding his powers, etiquette, etc.

Time and Space are very closely related but what people don't often remember that this also allows for creation. This is an aspect that Danny never thought would affect him much less become his main job.

Danny's existence is paradoxical in a way that still gets him confused as he is a constant where he existed as the Ancient of Space up until the point of his birth and when he had his accident and became a halfa once again he becomes a baby ghost with CW holding the reigns until he ascends as the Ancient Of Space Weaver of Creation.

Danny spends years creating new universes and creating galaxies upon galaxies, indulging in his obsession and occasionally going on vacations to explore the universes that he establishes -he's never traveled to the DC universe before, or he had a long time ago, like maybe during the Victorian era.

Danny weaves the future, past, and present of the many lives that will be, have been, and are. The Weaving of Creation takes up most of his time; he loves watching his creations blossom. He weaves the tapestry of creation which is later transcribed/ copied and bounded into a giant book that has the story of the entire multiverse in it. Danny as The Weaver his act of creation is reflected in the tree's branches and roots, representing the diverse realms and levels of existence. I want this to suggest that the universe is not just a collection of separate entities but a cohesive system with the Infinite Realms as the glue that holds the Multiverse together, and Danny acts as the orchestrator and the World Tree as his framework. 

Taking care of the World Tree is also one of his duties it is the centrepiece of his haunts as his powers as the Weavers of Creation. It's the representation of his domain. His haunt is a mixture of a space-themed observatory with a library with the universes and galaxies used as the ceiling with the World Tree In the middle with marble/glass-looking floors that reflected the ceilings. His haunt is also a bitingly cold like that of space with fog always crawling and curling around furniture. This is also due to his ice core which plays an important role in how his haunt turned out it is also influenced by his teachers so like a Greek-inspired architecture with subtle frost patterns etc.

The creation of many of these universes and dimensions results in him gaining collections of books and other items that take up space in his library and occasionally the hallways or other rooms of his haunt as decorations

Dan, now Serelio after being reborn and reformed—alongside Ellie, now Eos—goes by Klarion as a pseudonym when he terrorizes the JL and YJ in the DC universe.

Serelio and Eos had been de-aged and incubated by Danny due to them destabilizing as. Dan was put into the body of a clone that survived, and he and Ellie are now twins and have ascended as ancients.

Tim was on a mission to find Bruce who was being dragged through time and ended up finding a lead to Batman's location or how to get him out of the Time Stream in one of the League of Assassins' bases, which he later destroyed after grabbing everything that wasn't nailed down and he could carry.

While on his way to Greece for a new clue, he struggles with his journey after losing his spleen and having to be extra careful with preventing illnesses, with Ra Al Ghul hot on his tail. He somehow finds a pool of Lazarus Water where he promptly gets corned and somehow falls towards it.

Tim is transported to a beautiful, ethereal place that looks like the galaxy had a baby with an observatory and a library and he wonders around until he comes across an ethereal being that is weaving a tapestry while leaning against a gigantic tree with a fur coat dropped over them with ice crystals within their halo head piece.

He tries to be sneaky and find a way out, but he ends up arriving back at the same piece. Danny knows he's there but chooses to keep a mindful eye on him, but otherwise leaves him be and doesn't prevent him from leaving this place, but it seems like CW has other plans.

Tim concludes that he needs to talk to this person who he could get help as he takes stock of his environment. or possibly broker a deal to get help with getting B out of the Time Stream. As he took a deep breath and stepped forward piercing blue eyes looked with star-speckled irises and his breath caught.

The soft ding of a grandfather clock could be heard resounding in the air as it seemed to reach the final second. As Clockwork gazed at the timeline, a soft hum left his lips: " All is as it should be."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊

I think I went a bit overboard, and I'm not sure if I made it coherent enough, but basically, Tim stumbles- but not really, as CW is basically meddling- upon Weaver of Creation Danny and strikes a deal to have him help with Bruce's predicament after CW time out and convinces Danny that this is one of the better solutions that doesn't end in the destruction of that universe.

Weaver of Creation, Danny is basically creating dimensions and other universes and just leaves them to grow and develop on their own, and records their history and checks on their development, giving a little nudge if it seems like they will do something to end up killing themselves off before their time.

ClockWork and Danny can use some aspects of each other's powers, as Time and Space are needed to balance each other out.

IDK what else to write, I'll probably edit it a bit later on. This was inspired by the lovely @that-weird-thing-in-the-woods blog after reading Frostbite's Child, Ancient of Space, Void & Prism.

[demon-at-peace]

DC + DP JLD Danny

DC + DP JLD Danny

Danny has to make money somehow right? So he become a cult circle advisor, need help with a spell, incantation, drawing runes? Just call him right up, he even offers classes for beginners.

Naturally he encounters JLD and they are pissed. He’s the reason satan is getting called so often, he’s the reason why they have so many issues? But it’s a perfectly legal business operation, so to prevent their problems, they hire him. He teaches newer magicians, older magicians, he’s the official translator and teacher for the JLD.

The younger heroes love him, he doesn’t pester you, doesn’t scold you if you call the wrong inter-dimensional being. He brings snacks, and hangs up their art, he’s fun. The adults disagree. He scolds them, scowls at them, and most of all pranks them.

The first time a wormhole swallowed them up they freaked, until they saw the “Pranked ya” sign. To the JL Danny with his insufferable Midwest manners is horrible. But ultimately the best at occult stuff so they can’t fire him. Also because he would be right back to making money through cults.

I eventually they call him in to summon “the king of the infinite realms” a title he dumped of Pandora while he was at college. He’s nervous, but does the summoning anyway, because what else is he supposed to do? He needs to pay his bills.

She pops up in her wrath and looks ready to smite them. Before she realizes who they are.. “are you those heroes phantom loves?” Danny groans shrinking into himself, of course she wouldn’t recognize them for saving the world. No just his fanboying. Or should he say Phan-boying?

“A ways unfortunately the king decided to take a vacation in your realm so you won’t be able to contact him,” she groans. “Very nice circle though,” she hums as she looks at it in admiration. Then he eyes widen in understanding.

Then her head snaps up and she looks right at him, “Phantom, you look positively dashing, and Wulf certainly taught you how to do circle wonderfully!” She cheerfully floats over to him. Danny groans.

“Pandora I was supposed to be disguised! Now I have to configure a brand new identity!” He glares at her.

“Right sorry, I forgot the pains of maintaining a mortal identity.” Pandora hums

“Your phantom?” The bat asks. Crap now the justice league is glaring at him!

“Yeah?” He whines staring at them pitifully. He really wanted to finish college. “What?” Green Arrow jumps.

“sure am,” Danny sneers glaring at him. “What? You think ‘he should have told us’?” Danny mocks him. “As if you snobby bag of shit, we learned you know, I’m not dumb enough to let us get hurt!” Danny glares at them.

Pandora sighs, grabbing Danny’s hands, “look they might not know, the acts were kept on the down low;” she soothes. “Just hear them out; they did summon you;” she lets go when Danny nods.

“Fine, what do you want?” Danny crosses his arms, and looks like phantom. The JL stares at him in horror, and he looks remembers, the scars.

He’d panicked when he first saw them asked why they hadn’t healed. Frostbite told him they’d last as long as the trauma did, ghosts were creatures of emotions after all.

“What do you want?” He repeats glaring at them. They seem unnerved, shifting uncomfortably and exchanging glances.

”We were hoping you would deal with a ghost-“ Batman starts.

”Where are they?” Danny cuts him of. Looking around as if they’d randomly appear.

”Currently terrorizing LA with plants.” One of the leave members groans. “We thought is was poison ivy at first-“

“of course it’s f*cking undergrowth!” Danny groans. “Well bye, for good I guess,” he turn to Pandora, “Thank you sooo much for blowing my identity.”

the ghost wilts glowing a little less brightly “Sorry Phantom.”

“It’s fine,” he snaps his fingers and a portal forms.

“Wait! for good?” Superman asks, “Why?”

Danny looks at him in confusion, “I lied, and I’m an eldritch being, “ he sighs “I mean I’ve dealt with it before, I’ll just had back to the realms.”

”Stay,” to Danny’s surprise it’s the bat who says this. “We already have other eldritch beings,” he sighs.

“Maybe,” Danny smiles and steps through the portal, his eyes twinkling like stars.

—-

Why Pandora? Cause I was like ember would do that, but why would she be regent? So I chose her. Also do I sound American? Cause someone asked me if I was from like Texas on one of my fics, and I was like do I really sound that American?

Also idk how this works but I’d like people to know I’m totally open to asks, like idk if you have to say so or not so I just thought would.

Bye :)

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny goes on Vacation and leaves his job to his Co-workers

So! Danny hasn't had a break from his Hero Career since the day he turned into a Ghost. He has been constantly fighting battle after battle against his worst enemies one after the other.

Even after joining the Justice League, he didn't really have a chance to take a break. He never really asked for help because it didn't seem like a big enough deal to bother them with. He just kept on working.

Until the day he accidently mentioned this to one of his Co-workers, and they practically Force him to take a Vacation.

He has been fighting Crime, nearly every single day since he was 14, with at most a day or two in between battles for all that time, and he is now entering his 20's. They are horrified that he never asked them for help, no matter how easy the job may have been.

After a while of convincing him, they eventually get him to agree to tale a Month-Long Vacation.

He actually gets really excited after he agrees, and he is planning on exploring deep space for the entire month. He is actually really looking forwards to it now, and seeing this everyone who volunteered to take over his Patrols all promise that they will absolutely not bother him until the trip is done.

So, Danny leaves for his Vacation and the other Heroes set up shop in Amity Park.

Danny left them instructions on how to deal with Ghosts, how to pacify specific Rogues, and how to sent them back to the Ghost Zone when they are done. They feel like they are fairly well prepared for their Month Long Mission, especially since Danny described it as a very easy job.

Then the first Rogue Attack happened.

The team dispatched there, made up of a few mid-level JLA Members and some JLD Members for safe measure, takes nearly an Hour to defeat the Ghost. And they barely manage it.

They are surprised at how hard it is, but are even more surprised when they find out that the "Box Ghost" is labeled as a Low-Level Nuisance.

So, they call in a few higher level members to help. They do not want to interrupt Danny's Vacation.

Then they have to call in more JLA members, and again, and again.

By the time Danny managed to get back from his Vacation, the Founding Members and all JLD have been called in.

He thanks then for the opportunity to finally have a break.

Danny: Seriously, thanks guys. This was the best break I've had in years.

JLA: *out of breath and haggard* yeah dude...no problem...let me just sit down for a minute...whew!

Danny: Oh, I can't wait for the next time I can go on vacation!

JLA: *looking like this: 😐* ...yeah sure bro...

[jaxon-exe]

Back at it again with the dp x dc prompt

(If u want to do something with it, feel free)

So this is set a looooooong time after the show. Sam and Tucker r now ghost (they do look like teenagers but wether that’s bc that’s how they want to look or if they died young is up to u) and while Danny is still a halfa he spends more time dead than alive these days since everyone he cares about is long dead.

Anyway, after several centuries they finally manage to get through the mountain of back logged paper work from pariah’s time as king (and yes, technically Danny, as the king, was the only one who had to do that but he guilt tripped the others into helping) and they decided they deserved a vacation!

More than that they deserve to have fun!

So they come up with a bet,

All three of them would each choose a villain to be the sidekick of. Which villain they choose is up to them but it has to be in the same city. The goal? Get ur boss arrested without blowing ur cover!!

The rules:

The villain can not suspect ur working against them

The Heroes can not suspect ur helping them

Avoid civilian casualties as much as possible (their morals r a bit skewed after being dead for centuries but they would like to avoid a pissed off ghost is they can)

Ur time start as soon as they split to find their new bosses and ends so soon as the villain is caught.

U r allowed to escape from jail/police custody/the heroes if ur boss isn’t caught yet

Once the villain is caught u have to hand urself in and wait for everyone else to be done

The first person to get their boss caught get bragging rights

The last person to get their boss caught has to explain any time line fuck ups they might have caused by doing this to clockwork

With the rules set they just have to find the right city and hey would u look at that, there’s a mass brake out in Arkham right now. Gotham is really the best place for the game bc not only does it have a lot of villains it also has a lot of heroes so it’s more even since they will all have at least one hero gunning for their boss at all times.

Starting the clock the three set off. Sam, immediately, chooses Poison Ivy, for obvious reasons. Tucker chooses Riddler, he knows tech to well it would be easy for him to sabotage any death traps without it looking like sabotage. Danny on the other hand is torn. He was originally thinking to go with Dr Freeze bc ice core but he kinda sympathises with the guy. He just trying to save his wife and as a protector spirit, he can respect that and would feel awful to sabotage him. He than thinks maybe two face because he is also a guy with two faces but comes across a similar problem of sympathising with the guy (again, morals have been skewed after being dead for so long)

But there is one villain he has no sympathy for. One villain that isn’t just no matter ur morals and to boot, his whole shtick is something Danny hates with a burning passion.

That’s right, Danny picks Joker.

With bosses picked and sidekick roles achieved. The game is on!!!

Later that night sees shenanigans a penalty, a couple jail brakes on Danny’s parts (Joker stops thinking it’s funny after seeing his incompetant new sidekick cheerily runs up to him after the third jail brake) and the bats slowly loading their fucking minds wondering who the hell these kids r, where they came from and how tf does the Joker kid keep escaping????

[thevoidstaredback]

Part 2

Danny had counted himself lucky that no one had been in the Manor when he'd arrived. It gave him time to stew in the silence about his unwilling occupation of the apartment sized room he'd be staying in. As soon as Alfred and Damian had left earlier with a threat to come and get him for dinner, he'd locked the door and pushed the dresser and bed in front of it.

Just because he was stuck there for the next three months didn't mean he had to interact with anyone. He'd live up to his half status as a ghost and be nothing more than a passing thought for the whole summer.

Now if only everyone else had gotten the memo to stay away.

Apparently, at some point between his arrival and where he now finds himself, Damian and/or Alfred had announced to the rest of the household - former and current - who Danny was and that he'd be staying with them. Luckily, they'd been so kind as to give him a room far away from the others. Unfortunately, that meant that he was only a floor above them all.

Someone had tried to open his door barely and hour ago, calling to be let in so he could introduce himself. Danny ignored him, not saying a word. Eventually, the guy left. About ten minutes later, someone else tried to get in through one of the windows. Danny hadn't been able to do much more than lock those and close the blinds. Though, he had to admit that Bruce Wayne spared nothing on his home security.

Ever since, he'd had several people come to his door, calling for him to open it, that they just wanted to say 'hi'. He studiously ignored all of them, even going so far as to lock himself in the walk-in closet. It wasn't too big a space, thank god, but it was just enough for him to comfortably curl into the fetal position in the back corner of the top shelf.

Being a clone gave him the advantage of having the same memories as whoever he'd been cloned from. While that didn't extend to muscle memory, that had been easy to rectify, Deathstroke and Talia had both made sure of that.

Being half dead gave him the extra advantage of powers to hide better.

Ever wonder why, in the stories and myths, people are almost never able to see a ghost by looking head on? It's because ghosts don't like to be seen. They use a mix of intangibility and partial invisibility to redirect attention from themselves. Rattling chains, opening and closing doors, pushing things off shelves, that's all just to get attention away from them so they can hide.

So, Danny's hidden himself in the farthest corner on the top shelf in a medium sized closet with the lights off and the door closed. The room proper has the windows locked and covered, the door locked and blocked.

He doesn't need to eat, so long as he stays a ghost. And if he doesn't consume anything, then there's no waste for his body to get rid of. And, because he's comfortable, he could totally just sleep the entire summer away.

That is, if he can get himself to relax enough to actually close his eyes for more than a blink.

One of the windows shattered, likely spreading glass all over the floor.

"Danny?" While all the others had been male voices, this one was female. A smooth alto. "I broke your window."

He almost snorted. How very observant of this person.

They, because he wasn't going to assume based solely off of how their voice sounds, were getting close to the closet. "That's a good hiding place you have there. Though, blocking the door was a bit much. Why'd you stick around if you so obviously don't want to be here?"

Because he'd rather not have the League of Assassins on his trail for leaving his 'vacation' early, thank you very much. He didn't say that, though.

The door cracked open. "Y'know, I used to hide in the closet in my room all the time. From what Dick tells me, so did the others." They giggled. "It's kinda like a rite of passage."

Danny cringed, though he didn't move. This was nice spot, no matter what Alto over there was implying.

The door opened fully, revealing the person who'd broken in. They had black hair cropped to their chin, a blue tank-top and black leggings. "My name's Cassandra, but you can call me 'Cass'," they said, "Can I come in?"

They weren't looking at him, but he shook his head anyway. They'd found him, so they could probably see through walls or some shit.

They closed the door, sitting on the floor with their back to it. "Damian told us that you're his brother-"

"He is not my brother," he hissed, "Not in the way they want us to be."

Cassandra leaned her head against the door, looking up but not at him. "Hm. Want to explain?"

He didn't speak.

"Okay. You don't have to." A pause. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Piss off," he growled.

"Okay, okay," their tone aggravated him. Why weren't they getting angry? They didn't leave.

Danny settled deeper into the corner. He'd spent way to long waiting to be beaten at a contest in stall tactics.

Though, even he knew when to recognize a good competition. This was going to be a long night.

Part 4

[cheftsunoda]

secrets are no fun (unless shared with everyone)

part three

lewis hamilton x !sister reader

hamilton reader x max verstappen

ayana hamilton, the younger sister of seven-time world champion lewis hamilton, has seemingly achieved everything she could ever desire— a successful career as a music producer and artist, been all around the world, has a supportive family and a loving husband—however, that’s a secret that no one, not even her brother, knows about—her husband is also an f1 driver. lewis has always made it his mission to prevent ayana from dating a driver— but is it technically considered dating if they are married? ;)

part one here:)

part two here:)

fc : tyla

warning : j*s verstappen mentioned.

a/n : hello loves! i stayed up a majority of the night to get this written for you bc i will be busy this weekend as i am attending the miami gp! i have part 4 already saved in my drafts as well and will have that posted whenever i can! thanks love bugs 🐞

hope you like <3

(side note : congratulations to max on becoming a girl dad!! so excited for him and kelly)

—

ayanaaa

netherlands 📍

liked by sza, kikagomes, lando & 7,254,478 others.

ayanaaa : ik wil nooit meer weg 🇳🇱❤️

translation : i never want to leave

sza : pls come back to me i miss you and your beautiful creative energy 💌💋

liked by author

ayanaaa : you need to come here and we can just hide away for years

sza : deal

username : ladies can we have the album and the tour first please?

liked by author and sza

sza : oh yeah I guess so

lando : speaking dutch, are we? aren’t you from stevenage?

ayanaaa: yes lando i am

lando : interesting…just vacationing? learned some lingo along the way?

ayanaaa : i will not be taking any further questions from the press at this time

liked by lando

username : what does lando know that we don’t

ayanaaa : not much, he is very uneducated

lando : lewis tell your sister to stop bullying

lewishamilton : she isn’t wrong mate

lando : smh

kikagomes : prettiest girl on the planet

liked by author

ayanaaa: that’s all you my love

username : hmmm there is a man…in the netherlands…who do we know?

username2 : stop reaching they don’t even follow each other

username5 : she said a while ago that her man is not famous

username : guys let me be delusional stop dragging me

username3 : I fully ship them so hard and will feed into all delusions

username10 : wasn’t k**ly just seen at a race with max?

username12 : she was invited by another brand and max barely acknowledged her

lewishamilton : Love and hugs from Roscoe and I! We miss you❤️

liked by author

ayanaaa : love and miss you both! see you soon

danielricciardo : where was my invite?😔

liked by author

ayanaaa : lost in the post maybe danny 😣

liked by danielricciardo

—

I didn’t expect the countryside to feel this much like breathing.

The drive out of Amsterdam had been quiet — Max’s hand on the gear shift, his other laced with mine. It wasn’t our first time here, but it was the first time I wasn’t pretending to be just a friend, just a guest, just a visitor. This time, I wasn’t here for a show or a weekend stopover. I was here as his wife — quietly, secretly, entirely.

And Max’s world was much quieter than mine.

Birdsong, not bass. Windmills instead of spotlights. Wildflowers growing along the roads that curved like something out of a painting.

When we pulled up to his mother’s house, I felt that flutter of nerves I only ever got before performing — that rush of adrenaline and ache, wondering if I’d be understood.

But Sophie greeted me with a warm hug and a “You’re finally back,” like I was returning home, not arriving for the first time as family.

I never had any interest in meeting Max’s father. He had threatened to expose our relationship to the media because he genuinely disapproved of us. He was unaware that we were married at the time. Max had made the decision to keep him as far away from me as possible. His mother on the other hand had been a godsend, she is quite literally sweet as pie. I could not have asked for a better mother in law.

I followed Max to the back bedroom as he lugged our suitcases down the hallway. I admired all the artwork and family moments his mom had hung on the wall, smiling when greeted by baby max’s face. Max swung the door open and set our luggage to the side. He reached for my hand and dramatically pulled us both down on the bed, I landed on top of him, our faces inches apart.

“Thank you.” He mumbled.

“For what?” I said giving him a questionable look.

“For being here. For making me fall for you. For letting me marry you. Just for you being you.” He said making my heart melt.

“Always, Maxie. You’re mine forever.” I muttered pressing my lips to his. His grip around my waist tightened and he deepened the kiss.

“I love you, schat.” He said as we pulled away.

“Love you more.” I said with a small smile.

—

Later, over mint tea and buttery apple cake Sophie had insisted on baking herself, I found myself laughing more than I expected.

“She was like this even when Max was a kid,” Victoria said, nodding toward her mother. “If you had a cough, you got tea and ten questions. If you had a secret, she already knew it.”

“Still do,” Sophie added, raising an eyebrow at both of us.

Max groaned from the other room. “Stop telling Ayana horror stories about me.”

“I’m not,” I said, teasing. “I like hearing about Max the Kid. Especially the one who used to name his Hot Wheels cars.”

Victoria cackled. “Don’t forget he used to cry when she beat him at Mario Kart.”

“I let her win,” Max called back.

“Sure you did,” Sophie and Victoria said in unison.

—

Later that night, when Victoria headed out to meet friends and Max had gone for a run, I found myself helping Sophie tidy up the garden. The sun was dipping low, all honey and gold.

“You know,” she said gently, snipping dead leaves from a potted basil, “he’s different with you.”

I froze for a second. “Different how?”

She smiled without looking at me. “Lighter. Not just happy —but a different kind of calm. That’s new for him.”

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, heart thudding. “He makes me feel safe. Even when everything else is loud.”

Sophie finally looked at me. “Then I’m glad you found each other. Even if it’s quiet. Especially because it’s quiet.”

“He has needed someone like you for quite sometime now. You bring out a side of my son that I have never really seen until now and for that I owe you everything.” She said with a smile. I felt my heart grow.

“I just do what he does for me. You raised one hell of a boy.” I said and she chuckled to herself.

“I am so glad to finally have another daughter. I wouldn’t have picked anyone else for him.” She scooted over and wrapped me in her arms.

“I missed being here with you guys. You all mean so much to me.” I muttered into her shoulder.

“And you mean the same to us, Liefde.”

—

F1gossipgirls posted!

25,289 likes.

F1gossipgirls: Max Verstappen was spotted by fans on a run around his home in the Netherlands!

username : wanna know who is also in the Netherlands? Ayana Hamilton.

liked by author

username2 : I really doubt they’d ever be a couple…let alone be able to keep it on the low this much

username5 : exactly..think about how famous they are and how hard it would be to keep that under wraps

username10 : say what you want yall I still believe it

username7 : absolutely no way lewis lets this happen

username : why else would she be there?

username11 : I believe there is some kind of music conference being held near by this week tbh

username : hush I don’t want to hear reason

—

That night, curled up in bed with Max, the windows cracked open to the breeze and distant crickets, I whispered, “Your mom’s incredible.”

He kissed my bare shoulder and said, “So are you.”

I smiled into the dark, fingers brushing over his arm where it curled around my waist. “You don’t think she suspects anything… do you?”

There was a beat — just the wind rustling through the trees outside and the soft exhale of his breath against my neck.

“She might,” he said honestly. “She knows me too well not to.”

“Is that bad?” I asked, quieter now.

“No,” Max murmured, pulling me just a little closer. “If she knows, it’s because she sees how different I am with you. And that’s not something I want to hide.”

I twisted slightly so I could see his face in the moonlight, silver edges tracing his jaw, his lashes soft against his cheeks. “Sometimes I forget how real this all is. Like it happened so fast, but somehow… it still feels right.”

“It is right,” he said, firm in the way only Max could be when he really meant something. “Even if we’re keeping it to ourselves. You and me — we don’t need a spotlight for it to matter.”

My heart clenched, full and warm. “I don’t need the world to know. Just you.”

He smiled, tired and tender, brushing his thumb along the curve of my hip beneath the blanket. “It’s funny. Everyone’s always watching us — timing laps, tracking stats, writing headlines. But the best part of my life… it’s this. This quiet. You.”

I buried my face into his chest then, letting the thud of his heartbeat ground me.

“I think your mom knew the second she saw the way I looked at you,” I whispered.

He laughed softly. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “I caught her watching me when you weren’t looking. Like she was piecing it together.”

“Well,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “if she did figure it out… she didn’t seem mad.”

“No,” I agreed, smiling into the dark. “She just seemed… proud.”

A comfortable silence settled between us again, the kind that only existed between two people who didn’t need to fill every space. Just being was enough.

And for the first time in a long time, the secrecy didn’t feel heavy.

It felt like something sacred.

—

The smell of fresh bread hit me before I even opened my eyes.

I stretched under the covers, blinking against the warm slant of morning sun cutting through the sheer curtains. From the kitchen below came the soft clatter of pans, the low hum of a radio playing some old Dutch jazz station, and Sophie’s humming — off-key and sweet.

Max was already up, of course. The spot beside me was empty but warm. My chest fluttered as I slipped out of bed, threw on his hoodie, and padded downstairs barefoot.

Sophie was at the stove, flipping something in a skillet. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard me.

“Goedemorgen, lieverd,” she said, smiling. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” I replied, grinning. “It smells amazing.”

Max was already at the little breakfast table, barefoot in sweatpants, hair a mess. He looked over at me, and that soft kind of private smile passed between us — the one that made my knees a little weak even now.

I settled next to him, and he nudged a mug of coffee toward me. “Made it how you like it.”

“Thanks, husband,” I whispered, lips quirking.

He smirked.

Sophie turned with a plate of eggs, cheese, and rolls and set it down in front of us. “You two are whispering like teenagers.”

I froze just a beat too long. So did Max.

She noticed. Of course she did.

She arched a brow, hands on her hips. “Alright. What’s going on?”

Max glanced at me. I gave the smallest nod. My pulse thundered.

He reached for my hand under the table.

“Mam,” he started, steady but soft. “We’ve been meaning to tell you something. Something important.”

Sophie’s eyes flicked between us. She sat down slowly, like she already knew but was letting us get there.

“We got married,” I said, voice quiet but certain. “Last year. In Vegas. After the Grand Prix.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t speak.

“It was just us. No press. No big moment. Just… something that felt like ours,” Max added, eyes on his mother.

Sophie was quiet for a long moment, just watching us. Then, without a word, she reached out and placed her hand over both of ours.

“I knew there was something different,” she said finally, her voice thick. “But I didn’t want to assume. You two… you’ve always had a rhythm only you understand.”

I felt the lump rise in my throat.

She smiled then — watery and warm and full of so much love.

“I’m not upset. Just a little shocked. But I’m happy. Truly. If you make each other better — and I can see that you do — then that’s all I could ever ask for.”

Max squeezed my hand tightly, and I blinked fast, willing myself not to cry into my eggs.

Sophie stood and moved around the table, pulling me into a hug first, then Max. She kissed his cheek, then mine.

“When you’re ready to tell the rest of the world,” she said gently, “you’ll have me in your corner.”

And somehow, in that tiny kitchen filled with warm bread, mismatched mugs, and morning sunlight — it felt like a second kind of vow had been made.

—

We’d just finished hanging laundry on the line in the garden behind Sophie’s house. The sky was that pale, perfect Dutch blue, and the air smelled like basil and sunlight. Max had stolen another kiss while we folded bedsheets — laughing, relaxed, nothing but warmth between us.

Then we heard the car.

It wasn’t Sophie’s.

The rumble was too aggressive. Too familiar.

Max’s shoulders stiffened almost instantly. My smile faded as he turned toward the driveway, jaw clenching.

“Wait here,” he muttered, and before I could say anything, he was already striding toward the front of the house.

I followed anyway — heart thudding as I peeked around the corner.

Jos Verstappen was standing in the driveway, arms crossed, eyes already hard.

“Didn’t expect you to be here,” Max said flatly.

“Clearly,” Jos replied, glancing around. “You’ve been dodging my calls. Again.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With her?” Jos didn’t even try to lower his voice.

My stomach dropped as his eyes landed on me.

“That’s why you’re hiding out here? With Hamilton’s sister?” he scoffed, stepping forward. “You think this is what your focus should be on? This— whatever this is?”

Max moved so fast it made me jump — stepping in front of me like a shield, voice sharp.

“Watch your tone.”

Jos raised a brow. “I’m concerned. You’ve changed. You’re distracted. You don’t think people are talking?”

“I don’t care what people are talking about,” Max said coldly. “My life, my choices. You don’t get a say.”

“And her?” Jos gestured at me like I was something fragile. Dismissible. “This is serious now? You think this is the right match for someone in your position?”

That’s when I felt it — the shift in Max.

His spine straightened. His fists unclenched, not with calm, but with control.

And his voice dropped, low and deadly calm.

“We’re married.”

Jos froze.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Max said, stepping even closer. “Vegas. Last year. No media. No drama. Just us.”

Jos’ mouth opened, but Max cut him off.

“You don’t have to approve. You don’t even have to like it. But what you will do is show her respect. Because she’s not going anywhere.”

I blinked fast, throat tight. Jos looked from Max to me — and for a second, something almost like disbelief cracked his face.

Then he scoffed. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“No,” Max said, his voice full of certainty. “For once, I found something real. And I’m not letting you ruin it.”

Silence fell — thick and loaded.

Jos shook his head, muttered something in Dutch under his breath, and walked back toward his car. He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t look back.

When the engine finally disappeared down the road, I exhaled, realizing I’d been holding my breath the whole time.

Max turned, immediately coming to me, his hands cupping my face.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, brow creased. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“You didn’t either,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes — not from fear, but from the way he’d stood in front of me like the whole world could break and he’d still protect what we had.

He pressed his forehead to mine. “You’re my wife. That means something to me — no matter who tries to question it.”

And in that moment, I knew nothing — not legacy, not headlines, not even blood — could shake the ground we’d built together.

—

The house was quiet again.

Max hadn’t let go of my hand since Jos left — not while we sat on the back steps, not while I leaned against his shoulder in silence, not even now as the hum of a car came up the drive again.

We both knew it was Sophie.

Her familiar old hatchback pulled up slowly, the back seat full of fresh produce and wildflowers she’d picked from the Saturday market. She climbed out, calling cheerfully toward the garden.

“Are you two hiding from the sun or plotting something?”

I tried to stand, but Max gently pulled me back down. “I’ve got it.”

He met her halfway, kissed her cheek, and helped unload the bags. But Sophie’s mom-radar was instant. The moment her eyes landed on him — on the tension around his jaw, on the way his shoulders were still tight — she paused.

“What happened?” she asked, quiet now.

Max glanced at me, then looked back at her.

“Jos came by.”

Sophie’s whole face shifted.

“And?”

“He saw Ayana.”

Sophie’s gaze flicked to me where I still sat on the steps. “And what exactly did he say to her?”

Max exhaled slowly, jaw clenching again. “Nothing I’m going to repeat. But I told him. About us. Everything.”

Sophie closed her eyes for a moment. Not dramatically — just like she was centering herself.

She placed the bag of tomatoes on the kitchen table, then walked outside toward me. I stood automatically, trying to hold it together.

“I’m fine,” I started to say, voice cracking slightly. “I just—”

She wrapped her arms around me before I could finish.

Not a polite hug. Not a casual gesture.

A mother’s hug.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “He’s not an easy man. He never was. But you don’t deserve to be made to feel small in this family. And I won’t let it happen again.”

I let out a slow, shaky breath into her shoulder. “I didn’t want to be the reason there’s tension.”

She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. “You’re not. He is. And if he can’t see how good you are for my son — how happy he is with you — that’s his own blindness.”

Max came up behind me, resting a hand on my back, his other laced with mine again. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“Good,” Sophie said firmly. Then she turned and walked back inside, already muttering, “Well, now we need something stronger than tea.”

Max laughed under his breath, his thumb brushing the back of my hand.

“She’s on our side,” he whispered.

And somehow, the weight of the day felt a little lighter with Sophie in the room. Family, after all, wasn’t always about blood. Sometimes, it was about who stayed when things got loud.

—

It was tucked away off a narrow country road — the kind of restaurant you’d miss if you weren’t looking. No sign, no streetlights. Just an iron gate, ivy-covered walls, and a menu you had to be invited to see.

Max had made the reservation days ago. Just the two of us. No press, no fans, no distractions. Just husband and wife.

He reached across the table, his thumb brushing my knuckles. “You look beautiful.”

I raised an eyebrow, smiling. “You’ve said that three times already.”

“And I meant it all three times.”

We ate under soft golden light, the windows cracked open to let in the summer breeze. The staff treated us like old friends — discreet, warm, and silent where it counted. The food was decadent: hand-rolled pasta, wine neither of us could pronounce, and a chocolate mousse I nearly cried over.

“It’s kind of perfect,” I whispered after the second glass of wine. “Almost too perfect.”

Max leaned in, eyes sparkling. “You waiting for the plot twist?”

I laughed. “Always.”

But the twist wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t even loud.

It came in a quiet wave of nausea on the drive home.

I said nothing at first — just tightened my grip on the door handle, hoping it would pass.

By the time we stepped through the front door of Sophie’s house, the world was spinning just slightly. I kicked off my shoes too fast and stumbled toward the bathroom without saying a word.

“Yana?” Max called after me.

I closed the door gently behind me and gripped the sink, willing the dizziness to stop. My stomach flipped, sharp and fast.

Not food poisoning. Not nerves. Just… off.

I rinsed my face with cold water, trying to breathe.

Outside, Max hovered.

“I’m fine,” I called, not quite sure if it was true.

He was waiting when I opened the door, worry carved into every line of his face.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, half-laughing. “Probably just rich food and wine. You know I don’t eat like that often.”

Before he could argue, Sophie’s soft voice floated from the hallway.

“Everything alright?”

She was in her robe, arms crossed gently, not alarmed — but watching.

I nodded, pasting on a tired smile. “Just a little queasy. We had this insane truffle risotto—”

Sophie raised a brow, said nothing.

Max put an arm around my waist. “She just needs sleep.”

“I’ll make some mint tea,” Sophie said, already turning toward the kitchen. “It’ll help.”

But as she filled the kettle, her eyes drifted back toward the staircase. Her fingers paused just slightly on the stove dial.

She didn’t say it out loud.

Didn’t press.

Didn’t ask the question already blooming in the back of her mind.

But as Max helped me up to bed and kissed my forehead goodnight, Sophie stood quietly in the kitchen, tea steaming in her hand, a far-off look in her eyes.

It wasn’t the food.

She knew that.

It was something else.

Something beginning.

—

p3 complete! requests always open:)

tag list : tag list : @klauslovemepls , @omgsuperstarg @msliz @samanthaofanarchy , @mayax2o07 @goldenstrawberryx , @hannahmotors10 , @alireads27 , @1800-love-me , @htpssgavi @cmgmikealson , @babygirl-4986 , @star73807-blog , @glow-ish , @just-tingz-virgo , @majapapaya4 @lina505 , @hc-dutch , @lost4lyrics

[hs-is-loml]

Ever Letting Go. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Summary: while the f1 couples are slowly breaking up, fans are stressed and try to protect the last ferrari wag standing.

Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Angela Giakas

Warnings: like 4 grammar mistakes in the twitter threads

a/n: this was extremely fun to make

all translations of french come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

instagram

yourusername has posted

liked by selenagomez, harrystyles, charles_leclerc, and 1,591,728 others

yourusername here's two pics from my little vacation 🥰

view all 120,374 comments

welovey/n are you guys seeing all the tweets about charles and y/n?!

→ thatonebakucorner people are so funny 😭

→ pleasemarrymey/n the lightning mcqueen ones took me out

selenagomez always a beauty! 🤍

danielricciardo did you get me the wine i asked for?

→ landonorris not fair you were allowed to ask for something?!

→ yourusername yes, i got it, danny. and lando, quit whining you know i got you something too

childofdivorce is charles not with her??

→ ihavetrustissues he better be.

→ y/nismother istg those rumors better not be true

→ protectthewags if he's not, he's crying in a corner somewhere

whatacrossover not harry liking y/n's post knowing she's got a bf

→ y/nisaneed he's ready for when that crybaby messes up

→ gayforf1wags no, i think it was my turn next...

twitter

instagram

yourusername has posted a story

twitter

instagram

charles_leclerc has posted

liked by yourusername, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 2,461,537 others

charles_leclerc guys, who do you think took the damn pictures of y/n anyways? besides that as if i would ever let y/n go. mon amour, c'est toi et moi pour toujours. (my love, it's you and me forever)

view all 195,182 comments

landonorris did you see the lechair tweet?😭

→ charles_leclerc oh, fuck off

→ carlossainz55 the lightning mcqueen ones were even better

→ charles_leclerc not you too, mate...

welovey/n charles fr said "my woman" when saw the tweets about harry stealing his girl

→ oneaddiction we know harry could if he wanted to tho...

→ charlesandy/nforever as if y/n isn't as down bad for charles as he is for her

yourusername i'll love you always, mon chéri❤️ (my darling)

→ liked by charles_leclerc and 1,596

scuderiaferrari our favourite couple!

pierregasly don't let charles fool you, he was starting to sweat when the harry styles liked y/n's post...

→ charles_leclerc i know where you are right now, and i'll come after you.

yourusername has posted

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, tchalamet and 1,941,979 others

yourusername thank you to everyone who was so worried about us on twitter and our insta comments. you guys are so incredibly funny, and you bet i showed that lechair guy all memes about him (he secretly loved it). charles and i are doing absolutely amazing! also here's some more pictures from our vacation together, he truly makes me the happiest, and i will forever be grateful for him❤️

view all 132,054 comments

yourusername p.s i got him the new watch from my story just for vacation lol... richard mille please do not come after my bf

landonorris ew couples🤢

danielriccarido you should've let them freak out more tbh

→ liked by yourusername and 237 others

y/n'ssecretlover the fact you guys were completely okay while the hashtag "savey/nandcharles" was trending on twitter 😭

carlossainz55 charles is still staring at your pictures, so give him a second to comment...

→ f1wags not carlos exposing charles, give the man a break

→ charlesstolenwatch fr stressing him out more than xavi during a race

charles_leclerc mon amour, thank you for always sticking with me ❤️

→ yourusername 💋💋

zendaya girl, i know how twitter gets, and they're insane

→ yourusername they make up the craziest things!

gayfory/n my praying worked.

[laxxarian]

Okay, instead of Clockwork disliking the Speedsters, he's actually loving them cuz they made his work so fun and interesting, I mean, he knows everything and he also knows that the Speedsters would fix it sooner or later and the timeline would be alright.

And the plus side of it all, is that he gets to see it in his cog mirror shaped portal thing directly with popcorn in hand.

The dramas, the angst, the comedy, the romance and things. Its just a full blown telenovela to him.

So when the day came where he finally found a smidge of time to go on a vacation, he brought Danny with him, so much for the boy's confusion in Clockwork's sudden invitation to drag him along to Gotham then to space of all place.

Turns out, Clockwork just needed the 'human' Danny for a sec and trolled around in the watchtower that he got a human hostage while Danny was just confused as hell as to what's happening.

Danny: Clockwork??? Hello??? What's happening?!?

Clockwork and his cryptid speech: Unnatural of a fog, the forest has changed. This time, the flow of the clock is mine.

Danny:.... WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??!?

And then the JL just thinking that the human is in distress from being a hostage by this entity while Clockwork just wants to have fun.

And this is why the Observants wants to keep Clockwork at bay because of his trolling tendencies.

[dcxdpdabbles]

#Holiday Requests your blogs are the sole reason i visit tumblr in the first place. Thank you for feeding my dcxdp brain rot the appreciation is very much reciprocated and i’d like to humbly request a continuation for Jason’s Doll or Mr. Flavor!

After the smear campaign had been dealt with, Tim took time to carefully convince his employees that Scarecrow had somehow dosed the whole building in Fear Gas; that way, they would return to work once he gave everyone a month off with pay to "clean out the vents".

He did not want people to walk away thinking Danny the doll was by any means haunted. It would undo every last attempt to fix Jason's image, which he had carefully constructed.

In a city like Gotham, being dosed with gas was so common that no one batted an eye when Tim called them back. Many of the employees were overjoyed by the paid vacation.

The young CEO had even gone as far as to spread rumors that no one really saw the alleged doll, causing people to assume there was mass hysteria. Everyone was happier this way.

He felt like he could finally relax after weeks of meticulous planning. He went into work assuming the only stress he would experience would be the typical CEO kind.

Then Jason, needing a favor, marched into his office within the first hour.

Tim stares at the doll sitting on his office desk, feeling the blood drain from his face as his brother happily chatters.

"He usually likes to sit by windows. Don't forget to clean him with a damp, warm cloth; his clothes are machine washable." Jason said, laying out some of Danny's tea cup sets. Apparently, his brother had been shopping. "Danny usually has his tea daily at one, but if you're working, I'm sure he'll understand. He can wait."

"Jay..."Tim started feeling Danny staring into his soul. He knew a soul existed, but that didn't stop the thing from being unnerving. Was Danny made entirely of Fear Gas? "Are you sure you can't take Danny with you?"

"I want to." Jason sighed, tracing the fabric of Danny's hair. "But we aren't sure if space travel will worsen Danny's chances of recovery. Normally, I wouldn't take any jobs outside Gotham, but Roy needs help."

Danny's head jerked as if the porcelain neck of the doll had broken, the little head falling to the side, facing Jason. Familiar whispers of hell fill the air, making Tim's stomach drop.

He leans further into the plush of his office chair, wanting to get as far away from Danny as possible while Jason smiles.

"Thank you for understanding, " he tells Danny with a fondness usually reserved for lovers. Tim might have found it sweet if it had not been that he was terrified of Jason's undead boyfriend.

"Please don't leave," He whispers, uncaring how pathetic his voice sounded.

"You're going to find Tim." Jason laughs, shaking his head. "Danny says he likes you!"

Tim's eyes slid over to the doll, feeling himself jump a little when he realized he had turned in his direction. Without a sound. Without Tim, for all his training, even noticing the movement.

There was a moment when he felt like something with sharp teeth grinning at him. The sensation came from behind his left shoulder, and he jerked around, hand flying to his hidden expandable staff in his left pocket. Nothing but the cream color of his wall stares back at him.

He slowly turns back to his guest, Danny, quite suddenly right in front of him, sitting on his laptop. Its slightly watery eyes- painted with the effect- were mere inches from Tim's nose.

The sensation of being watched by a predatory grows. A whimper leaves Tim's lips against his will just as Jason checks his phone and shoulders his travel bag. "Alright, I have to head out. Artemis is on the way here to pick me up. Thanks again, Tim."

"No." He whispers, unable to look away from his own reflection in Danny's eyes. He looks petrified. "Don't leave me here with him."

"Bye, Danny. See you in two weeks." Jason grabs the doll's head in a quick one-arm hug.

A scratching wail from down the hall makes Tim nearly fall over, but Jason only blushes as he leans closer. "I love you too."

Before Tim can find the courage to throw Danny back at him, his brother is up and out the door. Soon, his office is left in utter silence as the duo observe one another.

Tim only dared move an inch once Tam knocked on his door. "Morning, Tim. You're nine o'clock is here; I sent you the required documents for the meeting, and is that a doll?"

Her voice trails off from her typical professional pitch to the one he is used to hearing when the pair reminisce about the time they ran from assassins together. It's far more casual, with just the hints of judgment that Tim can appreciate because it means she's not above calling his bullshit out.

"This...is Danny," He hears himself introduce. "Danny, this is Tam."

His PA cooks one hip, raises a brow, and gestures at the desk where the doll sits. "I thought the rumors about the haunted doll resulted from the night job misunderstanding?"

"No. I worked to cover them up."

Tam rolls the information around in her head before looking at her tablet with a wide smile. "You do not pay me enough to handle haunted dolls. I have to be in conference room 103 in five minutes. I have to check on our coffee orders."

"But Tam-"

"No." She slams the door close. The click-clack of her heels echoes as she struts away, and Tim is left staring longingly at the blurred windows of his glass doors. He looks back at Danny, who has moved again.

This time, the cold porcelain is pressing into his left cheek because Danny is suddenly there. Standing on the arm of his office chair and leaning on Tim's face.

The scream that ripped out of his throat had the security running to his office and Tam dialing the Bats in ten seconds. It didn't help that the scream had traveled through the vents, echoing into the building as every employee looked up from their cubicle with a jump.

"What was that?"

"A little girl go hurt on level seventy-four."

"Isn't that the CEO's floor?"

"Must be one of the thousands of kids the Waynes bring to those charity events."