#Hire Help

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

You're just not toxic enough.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC XDP Fic idea: Gamer Boy

Mr. and Mrs. Fenton are well known for turning objects found around the house into ghost-fighting gear. This was partially to save money on materials and partially because the Fentons were geniuses like that.

They had no trouble changing an object's entire purpose. It was awe-inspiring if you didn't live with them and misplaced something.

What happened to the TV remote? It's now a controller for the defense of house security weapons.

What happened to the third chair at the dinner table? It's now the main anchor for the ghost shield at the top of the house.

Where were the forks? Melted down to create the Spector-Glider jetpack, allowing any hunter on the go to fly right after the ecto-foes!

Danny learned to keep everything he wanted to be left alone in his room (Jack and Maddie had a rule not to bother the kids' safe spaces); otherwise, it would somehow become gear. His room was messy, but he knew where everything was and when he placed it there.

They vanished if he didn't.

It was odd to be so well aware of his things, but it was a fact of life he accepted growing up in the Fenton Household, like the food coming back to life. When they came to visit, his friends knew he had a strict rule of leaving everything in his room.

So, really, there was no reason for this mistake to happen. Sadly, he's gotten a bit careless since the whole Phantom thing. This is his downfall. See, it started the day Tucker brought home a cool new mobile gaming console, lending it to Danny after his parents refused to buy it for him due to his grades.

He had been excited to curl up in a ball on his bed and play the mobile version of Doom. No computer needed, connecting to the world wide web and with a ton of new updates- some even inspired by him when he went into the game last time, and some developer saw him- it was everything he wanted to spend his Friday afternoon on.

Then, a new ghost yells about wanting to be the best showgirl this town has ever seen and starts Can-caning into buildings. She was from before Amity Park was even a town or a city. She was a ghost from the late eighteen hundreds who had arrived in what would have been his hometown with the few settlers who had tricked her.

From what Sam discovered, she had been promised a stage, her name on the headliners as the best performer, and riches beyond belief. What she got instead was a bartender job where the men laughed and mocked her dreams. They wanted something pretty to serve their drinks and would not pay her for it.

She was working to be fed and to keep a roof over her head.

She was too poor to leave and had no family willing to lend a hand after her father warned her that if she ran off to chase her dreams, he would cut her off.

Danny could understand why she hated the sight of this place flourishing and booming when in life it had been her cave but he couldn't let her break it all down. The fight with her last hours then days and finally weeks before he was able to put her away in the Zone.

He had been so exhausted that it wasn't until Tucker asked for his console back that he realized he had had it for a whole month and had not gotten past the main menu.

The worst was putting it in the living room drawer on his way out for a fight. That was a week ago. Rushing home, Danny was relieved to find it still in the same place, untouched by his parent's fingers.

He was supposed to return it to Tucker the following morning, and since no one else was home, he could at least leave it on for a few hours. Not bothering to change back into Fenton, Danny floated in the air, eyes dropping but determined to enjoy this game if it killed him.

The second he powered it on, a woman's voice beeped in a familiar chilling tone.

"Ghost detected. Activating FentonTrap."

He tried to drop it, but it had a similar concept to the Fenton Thermos. His hands were stuck to the metal, and thrashing about wasn't doing anything but fling him through the air.

Before he knew it, he was sucked right into the screen. He screamed, but no one was around to listen. Just his luck. The gaming console turned into a ghost bear trap, falling the second he was sucked into.

It landed in Jazz's cardboard box of old things she had set aside to donate. She was moving out for college and felt it was good to give it away to the less fortunate.

Danny panicked inside the gaming console, floating into a box of darkness with nothing but the screen acting like a window to see out into the real world. Unlike when he entered the game, he had no control over his surroundings or the settings.

He waited a few hours, and as soon as Jazz came down from her bedroom the following morning, he tried screaming as loud as he could to get her attention. But she didn't react. Not even when he pushed his ectoplasm into the screen, holding it would do something.

The game was off. Jazz wasn't a gaming type of person, so she felt no need to turn it on when she was opening the box with tape. Danny could do nothing as she loaded it into her car and drove it to a nearby Wayne Foundation donation center. He hoped someone would pick him up and turn on the console so he could get help.

It was the very latest system. Someone had to be tempted.

But no such luck.

He was moved through hands, everyone assuming that this was only donated if it was busted. It didn't help their assumptions that the darn thing randomly beeped and cried out, "Ghost detected!". Danny tried repeatedly to get someone's attention, but he always failed and was moved between centers across the country, watching time move on without him.

Being inside the GhostTrap was a strange pain. He didn't need food or water, but he felt starved. He missed the sun on his skin, the voices of people speaking to him and not around him, and his family.

A family probably losing their minds looking for him. Danny Fenotn had vanished at fifteen years old, and the earth kept turning. He was stuck there, never aging, never moving, and always watching as years passed.

He stayed long enough for the console to become outdated, and people stopped even considering taking him home.

Eventually, Danny was pushed into the retro gaming boxes, sealed up, and moved across the states. He ended up in a pawn shop in a bigger city, placed in a glass case facing up. I was far more interested in him than the community depot the Waynes had him in.

He watched daily as various shady people entered Crime Alley's best pawn shop and traded multiple items for cash. He had stopped trying to get people's attention at this point. A little over a decade of inability to communicate did that to a person.

Danny sat back, watching people from below place cash on the counter items and wonder about them. Sometimes, they would peer down at him, getting close enough to fog up the glass, but never ask for him.

Until one day, a tiny little boy wandered in, clutching a few dollars. He said he got the money, and Hans (the pawn shop owner) didn't ask. He just counted out the bill for the tiny thing and told him what he could buy with it.

Danny was shocked to see those blue eyes sparkle with glee when they landed on his system. The boy was told that it might be busted because Hans was a good man to children, but he happily claimed he had never had a video game before, and a broken one was better than none.

The boy clutched the game tightly to his chest, slipping him into his pocket with great care, and ran home. Not that Danny could see where that home was. All he got was an eyeful of lint and a half-eaten lollipop.

It didn't stop his heart from leaping in his chest as the newfound hope he had long ago given up on bursting into flames along his rib cages. The second the boy was in his home, he washed after his mother yelled at him to bathe and eat, and he powered on Tucker's system after nearly a decade.

At once, Danny's surroundings changed into a bright light, and his powers could finally pass the screen. He rushed at it, feeling himself slipping through the traps as powering on the console seemed to be the same button as "release".

He flies out, throwing his arms wide open and laughing because, finally, after so long, he is free. He spins in circles, bathing in the feeling of air, even if it's a bit stale. He strains his eyes to listen to the city outside after everything has been so muffled, just seeing the real world.

The boy was pressed against the wall, his wide blue eyes staring up at Danny in suppressed fear. He was obviously on the poorer side, with his mattress on the floor and clothes so faded they might as well be white with a bit of color stains, but Danny didn't care.

"You set me free!" He tells the child, floating before him, "Thank you!"

The boy's mouth opens and closes- isn't it odd that he hasn't heard his name so far- before his wide blue eyes widen. "Are you a genie?"

"Hmm?" Danny wants to talk to him properly but is too busy taking everything in. He is feeling the real world again, seeing color, and feeling the walls.

No wonder his old foes kept trying to come back here. The world was a wonderful place to be in.

"You are! Like the one Aladdin found! I know my first wish. I wish my mom was sober."

Danny doesn't know who Aladdin is, but that... is a sad wish. Oddly enough, he does know how to make it come true. He had been studying under FrostBite after realizing he couldn't be an astronaut anymore and had found that his ectoplasm had a side effect of healing humans.

In theory, it should make her sober.

He considers the boy's earnest and hopeful eyes and thinks I do owe him.

"Alright, bring me to your mom. I'm Danny, by the way. Danny Phantom."

"I'm Jason!" Jason cheers, rushing to the door of his small little bedroom and grabbing Danny's hand on the way. He's practically dragging him to a small living room.

There, leaning against the wall, is a woman, her head bobbing side to side, muttering things under her breath and looking like a mess. There was a needle near her leg. This makes Danny grimace, especially with how easily Jason accepts it.

He places his hands on her face- reeling at the feeling of other humans again!- and pushes his ectoplasm into her body, removing anything he can find that shouldn't be there. He's repairing the damages done by the drugs to her body as he does so.

It might not stop her from doing more in the future, but the addiction is gone. She will no longer crave it.

When he pulls his hands off her, Jason lets out a little gasp by his side. Already, his mother looks healthy. Skin no longer shrunken, hair growing back, skin smooth and blemished free, and a rosy tint to her cheeks.

Now she's just a pretty woman nappin' against the wall with her son holding her hand, looking like he just witnessed a miracle.

Danny isn't sure how he can explain that she could just start up again and tear apart everything he fixed. It feels wrong to speak it as the boy snuggles close to her, crying silent little tears.

"I know what I want my next wish to be" Jason whispers. He looks Danny straight in the eyes when he says, "I wish you were my big brother."

And that is sad, too. But it gives him a reason to stick around and ensure she doesn't put this kid through this again. Besides, he's been missing for twelve years and hasn't changed much. He's scared to go back and has nothing to return to.

Danny shifts into his home form, making the little boy gasp again. "Do I pass as your brother?"

"Yes! You look a lot like me!" Jason beams, "Mom will be so excited to meet you!"

Oh,, he will ensure she is. After all, he needed to scare her straight. Maybe he can find a job to help her get Jason all the games he wants in the world.

Danny Fenton went missing all those years ago. The World kept spinning, but now Danny Todd was spinning with it.

[void-of-unparalleled-chaos]

Caught Between Your Teeth (DPxDC prompt)

I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS OR THEIR WORLDS. I DO NOT INTEND TO MAKE MONEY WITH THIS POST. IF THIS POST IS ON TIKTOK I DID NOT CONSENT TO THAT. IF THIS DISCLAIMER IS MISSING THEN THE POST WAS EDITED TO NEGATE IT

Its a well known fact that ghosts are not human. Any Amity Park resident would be able to tell you that, even without the ectobiologists shouting it from their questionably legal tank of a car.

Danny Fenton is no exception, and really, he shouldn't be as surprised as he is.

Unlike the living, ghosts need ectoplasm to substantiate themselves. It could easily be found within the plants that litter the ghost zone, but like any ecosystem, there is variety.

Some ghosts are able to subsist off of simple grasses. Others prefer the fruit and leaves from flowering bushes. Some ghosts even strip the bark from trees to suck the ectoplasmic sap out from within their trunks.

But other ghosts are not meant to eat the plants at all. These ghosts with their sharpened teeth and claws are predators. Unable to extract the ectopalsm they need from plant life, they instead take it from other ghosts. Some are able to get by without ending their chosen prey, sucking out just enough ectoplasm to get by like a parasite. Others rip and tear into ghostly flesh and lap up the spilled ectoplasm until their quarry is no more.

Since his accident, Danny has become quite adept at catching stray blob ghosts, but they simply aren't cutting it anymore. The odd ectopuss didn't quell the hunger either. After the animal based ghosts failed to satisfy him, Danny was slapped with the realization.

Danny may be half ghost, but he is also half human.

Ghosts are not human.

He is so hungry.

Even now in his human form, Danny can feel the ribs poking through his sides. The shaking of his arms has yet to subside. He doesn't know if its from the gnawing in his stomach or adrenaline.

He can't put it off anymore. He needs to eat. But even though it's a fundamental need for survival his obsession tugs at him in protest. He needs to eat, but he needs to protect too.

He can't stay in Amity Park. That much is certain. The citizens of Amity Park are out of the question, and while the GIW started off as bumbling idiots, they have been getting smarter. He can't subsist off of them, especially with how weak he is in his starved state.

Danny is smart. Surely he can find a food source if he is clever about it. He just needs to flush them out like a cat after a rat. Or maybe he doesn't need to flush them out at all. Maybe he can lure them in like peanut butter in a trap.

His legs shake as he stands from his crouch. As he rises he licks the blood from his claws. Danny stares at what remains of the white suit, it's drying tatters stained crimson.

Yes. If he puts himself in the right positon the vermin will waltz right into his waiting claws, and with her filthy streets and dark corners, where better to find a rat than Gotham.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

"Nightwing."

Dick froze halfway across a rooftop, the lights and gunshots of Bludhaven disappearing in an instant. A scowl flashed across his face, teeth clenched and bared, before he forced it back. His face smoothed back out and his voice took on a pleasant, amused tone. "Slade. How did you get this frequency?"

"Nevermind that," Slade scolded. "We have more important things that need discussing, and information to be revealed."

"Is this about Constantinople?" He asked with a lilt, propping one hand on his hip. "Because I thought I told you, those geese totally counted as villains and deserved arrest--"

"I found a child vigilante. What do I do with it?"

"Ex-cuse me?" His fist clenched. "Is this a trick question?"

"No."

"What do you mean, 'what do I do with it?' You know what to do with it; you become its nemisis when their 15 and haunted them for the next decade." His voice was thinly-veiled rage. He couldn't stop himself from shaking. That poor kid, Slade has his sights set on them. He's going to torture that kid, or worse, and now I have to track Slade's trail back to wherever he found this kid--

"I can't do that! He's only eight years old!"

"What?"

"There's this eight year old meta brat running around a Mid-West town in his pajamas while adults shoot at him. There isn't a mentor in sight, and one of the kid's rogues has threatened to skin him. What. Do. I. Do?"

[han-ban-bam]

so I’ve been having some Star Wars thoughts. Jedi on the run Aloy and Tenakth clan Mandalorian Kotallo. & we can’t forget F-0C5.

((I need to throw ur attention over to @i-lavabean who did some Amazing Star Wars Horizon art last year. It’s amazing it’s spectacular. Plz go enjoy!!!))

[astrophysician]

ALT my reflection

redraw reference, close ups, and a bonus under the cut :)

[miscellaneousrenaissant]

Thinking about how Chilchuck and Laios started adventuring at around the same relative time in their lives

There are a bunch of similarities to their backstories - leaving home at a young age (14, 12), starting careers in exploring dungeons as young adults (19, 22), developing a complex about the first monster that killed them (Mimics, Living Armor), getting scammed or taken advantage of by other adventurers (succubus-hunting party, gold-peelers) - that they give me "past and future" vibes

Chilchuck is the older mentor to the less-experienced Laios. He joined Laios' party when Laios had only been exploring the dungeon for a year, and Chilchuck regularly gives advice based on his own 10 years of experience in an effort to support Laios as leader. There are several occasions of Chilchuck either teaching or wishing Laios would learn something in particular that he thinks would help with the job

Laios is a reflection of Chilchuck's past from when he was just starting out as a naive adventurer, while Chilchuck is an example of the future that Laios is striving towards as a seasoned dungeon explorer and leader

But also, they can represent missed opportunities and paths not taken for each other

An example for Chilchuck is that he isn't treated with the same respect as a tall-man because he is a half-foot. He can lead a union of half-foots, but leading a party of other races, many of whom would infantilize him, is unlikely. There are limitations to what he can do (physically and socially) compared to Laios simply because of how each were born, and it's partly why he's so hard on Laios to make him a good leader and not waste the opportunities afforded to him

Meanwhile as an example for Laios, who left his family and fiancée behind when going out on his own at 12 years old, who wasn't shocked that Chilchuck became a father at 13, and who even mentioned that some tall-men get married at 13, too...

If Laios had never left home, would he, at 13, have married someone from his childhood and also become a father of three?

[annqennel]

That first street boss was so hard for what 😭

[ghxstshxrk]

alexa play losing my religion by R.E.M.

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

Say what you will about cottagecore but at least it admits upfront what it is, a fantasy where you deal with COVID quarantine and general stress by LARPing as one of those mice in strawberry patterned dresses. None of this tradwife nonsense lying to you about how subsistence farming is the one good pure way to live and not a horrible life of backbreaking labor and maternal/infant mortality that most of human history has been about getting away from.

[brekkie-e]

There's a post going around saying that the Veilgaurd team is so nice to eachother because it's a story about professionals. I need the author locked in a room with Vivienne, Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine so they can look them in the eye and say they're not professionals to their faces. For science.

[animefreak1145]

😐

Adler kept Stitch alive as “insurance”—the guy that brainwashed him and tortured him and killed like SO many people and one of the people responsible for Nova 6–but not Bell? Bell—the one who willingly said Solovetsky and saved millions of people(despite their bloody horrible past, it showed a clear change unlike Stitch who actively used the Numbers broadcast as well to hurt MORE people).

You’re telling me—Russell Adler, the one who was willing to kill Gusev in BO6 campaign when he was just a civvie but created that gas that could kill millions—spared Stitch? 🤨

Stitch? Who ACTUALLY killed more people actively than Gusev did, even with the lab trials of the gas, and enjoyed hurting Adler? 🤨

Either Adler wasn’t rewired back all the way by Mason or the dude is actually a masochist in more ways than I thought for keeping Stitch.

Treyarch—I would’ve been happy if you just created a standard Bell instead of having Stitch be alive. 😐 I wouldn’t even have cared if Bell was male or whatever—Bell being in that prison would’ve been better than STITCH.

STITCH?!?!?!?!

[bucksaiga]

Tommy would be a fucking terrible spy anyway

He'd be doing a lot of suspicious things and Buck would hit him with "is there someone else? 🥺 do you not like me anymore? 🥺" and Tommy would immediately fold and blow his own cover

Nothing's getting past Evan's 🥺

[cedric-k-rossignol]

[mo-mode]

Back on my Screenwriter soap box while watching PJO: They should have bought a bunch of oil diffusers.

(Edit: This post was made before someone pointed out to me that I missed a key line of dialogue, but my points and theories still stand for the same reasons backing up my original post so I’m not changing anything. The dialogue I missed lets us know that Hermes told Percy the lotus was being pumped into the air off-screen. It’s also implies (? I’m still on the fence about this one?) that Hermes told him what day it is, but I missed these during my first three watches because of how quick and vague it was. Which actually kind of supports my point on why visual indicators are so important. Without these, it’s easy to miss key information. And remember, it’s a kid’s show. ANYWAY my conclusions haven’t changed, and I still believe these edits would work better than the quick line of dialogue so just keep this in mind. Thanks.)

(I’m not being nit-picky. I swear. Just hear me out.) So the weirdest thing to me in episode six was how Percy just…learned everything so quickly without any visual indicators? Like they know time passed because it’s dark outside, but how did he know it was Thursday? They know they were affected by the lotus flowers, but how does he know it was pumped into the air? This irked me because even if he’s smart enough to figure some of this out himself (which he is) we as the audience should still be able to follow his thought process instead of learning after the fact.

What if there were oil diffusers?

So imagine the trio walks into the Lotus, figures out this is like the Odyssey, and decides not to eat anything. They waltz in super confident that they cracked the code, but they were wrong. How do we know? Because the moment they enter the crowd, we get an establishing shot of a lotus-branded oil diffuser letting out steam.

Immediately, we as the audience realize their mistake, making it just that more tantalizing to watch. As the episode continues, we realize they’re everywhere. There’s a diffuser in the plants, on the counter, between the game tables, always right out of the corner of our eyes. They just keep churning out lotus-scented oil into the air, which we can infer because we’re smart. (Remember that.)

Now when Percy realizes what’s going on, we know HOW they’re doing it and HOW Percy knows without being told!! Because they were there the whole time.

Onto Thursday.

Consider: A watch.

What if Hermes has the only watch in the casino until the trio walks in with their own?

Let’s give Annabeth one of those cheap, funky watches that gives the time, day, month, year, etc. Something you get from a kids toy catalogue. It’s waterproof, glows in the dark, has an alarm or whatever. I feel like Annabeth would have one of those. (And honestly, she might already. I forgot.) The most important feature for us, though, is the day. It clearly tells us the day of the week.

It’s pretty easy to establish that Annabeth has the watch. Just do it the same way they establish the date: Percabeth arguing over it in the truck. Annabeth shows him the watch. Establishing shot of the watch’s face. That’s it. No bells or whistles necessary. Then when they get to the casino, Annabeth checks it one more time (without an establishing shot, she just does it casually) and they walk in.

(It’s so easy. I promise.)

While Grover is walking around alone, he tries to check the time and realizes there’s no clocks. (Which ngl is super common in casinos already, but it’s creepy nonetheless.) Yada yada, he gets sucked in by Augustus and that’s how he gets got.

Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth keep meaning to check the time, but every time they do, someone tries to hand them an appetizer or a drink, which makes them forget OR Annabeth’s hubris keeps her from checking. (Percy: Time check? Annabeth: Its only been five minutes. We’re fine. We need to focus.)

And that brings us to Hermes. After their chat, yada yada, Annabeth “leaves” and Hermes gets all cryptic, then he makes a BIG show of checking his watch, and THAT’S when Percy realizes something’s wrong because oh no they haven’t checked the time. So he finds Annabeth, they see it’s dark outside, they check her watch, and it’s Thursday.

“But we didn’t eat anything!” Annabeth says. Percy looks at the diffusers by the entrance. It dawns on him. “They’re pumping it into the air.”

That’s how you VISUALLY SHOW US THINGS instead of Percy just figuring everything out off-camera and telling us!!!!

Now, you may be thinking “Oh but do they have the budget for that??” Do you know how cheap these props are? Just bulk buy like six oil diffusers, slap a homemade sticker of a lotus flower on them, and keep moving them into every shot. And they’re quiet!! They wouldn’t interfere with the sound, the steam is visible enough to be caught on camera without messing with the lighting, they actually look really cool in some lighting, and they fit the atmosphere of a hotel/casino!! Then the watch is like $15, fits with Annabeth’s character, and totally matches her outfit.

It’s CHEAP! It’s EASY! It DOESN’T CUT INTO THE RUN TIME! It’s AESTHETICALLY PLEASING! ANNABETH GETS A SICK WATCH!! NO DOWNSIDES!!!!

The biggest problem with this show isn’t how accurate it is to the book or how much money they have or that they’re “Disney-fying” it. The problem is they are TELLING US things instead of SHOWING us. And not to beat a dead horse because everyone’s heard of “Show Don’t Tell” but like??? This is exactly why everyone is taught this over and over again in school?? Because people still do it anyway all the time???

There’s also something else I learned (or really just picked up) when I got my B.A. in Creative Writing: Good shows are predictable.

Whether it’s a case of the audience learning what’s going to happen before it happens or them watching the show again and realizing how obvious the answer was the whole time, audiences always want to feel smart. They want to interact with the material. If you don’t give them the opportunity to pick apart the mystery themselves by setting down clues, they’ll give up on interacting with the show and lose interest. That’s why you SHOW them things. There are several moments where this show is completely unpredictable, not because it’s complex but because it doesn’t let you predict it. That doesn’t make it bad—the comedy and character development is doing a great job of carrying the show’s weight so far. But it definitely doesn’t make the show good.

It’s like Rube Goldberg machines. Or dominoes! We don’t watch those crazy 1000+ domino videos so we can watch the last one fall. We watch it to see HOW they fall. Take one domino out, and it’s unsatisfactory. It doesn’t work anymore.

But some oil diffusers and a watch??? Little clues that make the realization that more visually appealing??? THAT’S SATISFYING

Anyway, these are just two things that could have been done, but weren’t. Most of the show is stellar. I think it just needs a little bit of editing here and there. I studied this for like years, and I needed to get this off my chest. That’s it.

Rick Riordan, if you ever see this, I am available for hire :) I would love to be a script doctor please please please please

[henerich]