#danny/alex

[thef155]

I see everyone trying to figure out how Carlos’s appendicitis fits into the Alex’s Appendix Domino Effect lore.

To me it seems obvious:

Alex gets appendicitis, will miss Monza ‘22

Nyck de Vries fills in for Alex and impresses

AlphaTauri sign Nyck for 2023

AlphaTauri drop Nyck mid-2023 and pick up Danny Ric

Danny Ric breaks wrist, will miss some races

Liam Lawson fills in for Danny Ric

Liam Lawson edges Max Verstappen out of Q3 at Singapore ‘23, allowing for competition at the front

“CARLOS SAINZ, WINNER OF THE SINGAPORE GRAND PRIX”

As blood payment for the only non-Red Bull race win of the 2023 season, Carlos must surrender his own appendix

The Great Balance is finally restored in the universe

Max Verstappen gets 24 wins and 24 poles in 2024

This is the way of things.

[ghostly-penumbra]

What I need of the DPxDC "Bruce confuses Danny for one of his kids and accidentally kinda kidnaps him" is to have Danny's parents go absolute apeshit at someone taking their baby boy! their little guy! the most wonderful, most specialest boy ever!

and now whilst Bruce is just realising what's going on and trying to give Danny back, Jack and Maddie already went through half his rogues gallery looking for who could have taken their son! the villains are in shambles! the GCPD doesn't know if they are supervillains too since they are only targeting OTHER supervillains but anyway they Can Not Restrain Them

Danny sees that and just groans and sinks his head in his hands, defeated, and then hears all the cutesy names they are calling him with and wants to die (again) on the spot "our baby boy! our darling bombon! our little starlight!" (ok, he likes that one), "our sweet, sweet little boy!"

in the end, Danny is reunited with his parents, whom get fined for property damage and attacking cops (it was the cops' fault. acab), and they are hugging Danny and grumbling about the fine ("what did they expect? what parent wouldn't tear down the world for their child?" Jason, looking pointedly at Bruce: "yeah, what kind of AWFUL parent wouldn't?"), but they are understanding enough with Bruce, as it was a mix-up and Danny didn't say anything until later out of awkwardness (they judge his parenting if he cannot recognize he wasn't his kid. no matter that they cannot recognize Phantom as THEIR kid)

they leave, happy and relieved, and Bruce hopes they never really turn to supervillainy

once Jason finds out Maddie beat Joker to half an inch of his life (that clown is hard to kill!), he sneaks into their RV and adopts himself into their home. because i said so

[bun-fish]

A twisty, spooky noodle boy.

For the one and only Things That Bleed, by @ghostly-cabbage @kkachis and @artistfingers

I am in love with SCP Danny’s design (cred goes to the aforementioned authors), glowing ribcages are my new favorite thing.

Also I need to remind ya’ll that this niche chunk of fic does not require knowledge from any of the fandoms (Alex Rider, Danny Phantom, SCP) since it was written to be accessible to anyone, so if you like any of the following: Found Family, Hidden Identities, Creepy Government Agencies and Eldritch Horror Danny, I highly recommend it ! The love and teamwork put into this story is truly incredible :]

[landonorizzz]

SUMMARY: pierre is not the boyfriend of the year that everyone thought. his girlfriend is left to fend for herself, fourtunately she seems to have good people in her corner PAIRING: pierre gasly x ex! fem! ferrari media team! oc , [redacted] x fem! ferrari media team! oc (no faceclaim) WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, cursing A/N: this is my first one, it was supposed to be y/n BUT i just didn't like how it looked? idk, i needed to have a name so everyone meet Marceline ;))

masterlist | next

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marcilazzaro1 new day, new city! explored zandvoort today before coming back for media duties ;)

(charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 i am watching you, do not make my life harder this week)

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carlandoo333 she's so mother i can't

pierregasly so i don't get credit for the photos?

↳ marcilazzaro1 everyone knows you're my personal photographer love

pierregasly belle, mon ange 🤍

↳ marcilazzaro1 grazie 🤍

↳ ilpredestinatox I JUST WANT EHAT THEY HAVE

babygirll oh no! i was at that caffè today, i can't believe i missed them!

maxverstappen1 they can't stop themselves, it's in their blood

↳ marcilazzaro1 maybe if you stopped distracting a certain someone during his interviews he'd actually do a good job

↳maxverstappen1 eh

lilymhe are we still on for drinks after FP2?

↳ marcilazzaro1 lily, love of my life, of course we are

↳ alexalbon excuse me? i'm the boyfriend here

↳ marcilazzaro1 not for long now albono ;)

sheilaxf1 I'm so here for lily and marci being the ultimate girlfriends

↳ landoscar814 they are iconic

charles_leclerc when have i ever made your life difficult

↳ marcilazzaro1 you want that alphabetically or chronologically??

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marcilazzaro1 added to their story!

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and others

marcilazzaro1 and that's another podium in the bag! bébé i am so proud of you, you have no idea. my heat speeds up every time i see your happy smile, every time i feel like i'm drunk on the champagne with you 🥂 here's to many more, i love you completely 🤍

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pierregasly it's a pleasure to share this journey with you mon ange, i can't wait for the next chapter 🤍

↳ marcilazzaro1 🤍🥂

sundaylover okay whos cutting up onions and shit

hammertime_1 oh yeah she is in looooovee love

maxverstappen1 what about my podium?

↳ marcilazzaro1 redbull is spoiling you enough and j already texted you, stop fishing

↳ cuddlyxricc i absolutely love their friendship

↳ byelandoo right?? i feel like she's the only media person he doesn't automatically hate ↳ cuddlyxricc the fact that she's works for ferrari and not redbull makes it even funnier i swear ↳ byelandoo christian is having an aneurysm as we speak

danielricciardo see you at the after party (you have to convince him to do a shoey)

↳ marcilazzaro1 ah, i fear that i will not make it to the party, i still have work to do daniel ;) but you guys enjoy yourselves. and watch out for the hand please, will you?

elplanxincoming am i the only one or was Pierre's comment kinda weak after the WHOLE PARAGRAPH she wrote??

↳ sunshine_dr3 god i didn't want to say anything but yeah, it feels forced almost

ilpredestinatox the story is definitely working, Charles looks so good i don't even remember the race

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marci's messages

Marci: where are you? are you still at the party?

Esteban: No.

Esteban: Me, Lance and Mick are all in my room.

Marci: Can I come?

Esteban: Aren't you supposed to be surprising your boyfriend?

Marci: I guess I already did.

Marci: I already packed my stuff, I don't really have anywhere to go. Ferrari doesn't have the extra room for me this weekend and the hotel is packed.

Esteban: Merde, Marci. Of course you can come here, I'll even let you have the bed.

Marci: Thank you, Este.

PF: That's all I have.

PF: For what it's worth, I really am sorry that this hapened.

Marci: Still, you ALL lied to me and treated me like an idiot.

Marci: So really, your "sorry" doesn't mean shit now, does it?

PF: Why do you think I took those photos?

PF: I wanted to tell you. So many times.

Marci: Why didn't you then?

PF: I'm sorry.

Marci: You know what, fuck you.

Marci: You're lucky I didn't expose all of you. You all knew what he was doing and none of you said anything. That's fucked and you know it.

marcilazzaro1 added to their story!

marci's messages:

Pierre: Baby, what's going on?

Pierre: Where are you?

Marci: Why, is your friend already gone? What, didn't stay the night?

Pierre: What are you talking about?

Marci: Spare me, Pierre. You know exacly what I'm talking about.

Marci: If you need a reminder I'm sure that twitter's ready to jog your memory.

Pierre: What the fuck Marceline

Pierre: What the hell did you do?!

Pierre: Merde

Pierre: Are you actually insane?? This is a PR nightmare, you KNOW this

Pierre: You have to delete those

Marci: Oh yeah, I don't think so.

Marci: I already apologized to your media team for the chaos, I ain't deleting shit.

Pierre: You're a bitch, Marceline

Marci: Fuck you, you absolute scumbag.

Adam: You get a week of PTO

Adam: It's a non-negotiable order from upstairs so, yeah. See you next week. Go relax, wind down. Heal.

Adam: We're all sorry that this happened to you, the media team is standing with you.

Marci: Thank you, Adam.

Marci: Also, what does "upstairs" mean?

Adam: Fred's orders.

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marcilazzaro1 some much needed home time on the big boss' orders ;)) thank you for your kind words and support, see you soon everyone.

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charlies_sun we're all with you marci 🤍

scuderiaferrari Big boss says to rest up and come back stronger!

↳marcilazzaro1 got it 🤠

↳ilpredestinatox this is so sweet

sheilaxf1 i just don't understand how could he do this to her

↳hammertime_1 RIGHTT???

danielricciardo the personalised dart board and dr3 wine are already on their way

↳marcilazzaro1 thank you Daniel! it's much appreciated

danielricciardo everybody loves a farm girl 🤠

↳marcilazzaro1 do they now?

↳lestappen116 are they...... flirting?

↳ilpredestinatox GIRL, bfr her and pierre JUST broke up, besides idk, i've always had a feeling that he gives her the ick? idk

sundaylover how does she look so GOOD??

↳carlando333 she's so mother i can't-

michael_44 oh boo hoo, she's been cheated on. that's no reason to slack off on her work

↳elplanxincoming oh fuck off

maxverstappen1 there might be an incident at T1 at Monza, just say the word

↳marcilazzaro1 thank you maxie, but that won't ne nessecary 🧡

brunolazzaro03 good to have you home, even if you're stealing all my ice cream

↳marcilazzaro1 come on, mum said i can have them

redleclerc_ the fact that Charles hasn't commented is deeply upsetting to me

↳ quickstappen i meann.... not surprising considering it's his best friend we're talking about

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marci's message:

Claire: Hello, this is Claire. We spoke on instagram.

Marci: Yes, we did. Im Marceline.

Claire: I know.

Claire: Look, I'm sorry that this happened.

Claire: I really am.

Marci: Stop please

Marci: Can you just explain it to me from the beginning?

Claire: Yeah, sure. Of course.

Claire: I met Pierre at a party in Milan that I went to with my friends.

Marci: When was that?

Claire: Last June

Claire: I think.

Marci: Okay

Claire: I'm sorry.

Claire: Anyway, we met and he was really shocked that I didn't know who he was. And I really HAD no idea who he was.

Claire: He said he worked in motorsports, I've never qustioned it and never tried to search for him.

Marci: Why didn't you look for him?

Claire: Honestly? I didn't care enough. For me it was just sex.

Claire: I didn't even know his last name. Just had his phone number.

Marci: And you met up multiple times?

Claire: Yeah, whenever he was in Milan. I swear I didn't know he had a girlfriend. He said he was single when we first met.

Marci: Well, we started dating in 2019 so... he definitely wasn't.

Claire: I am so sorry Marceline.

Claire: I found out about you from twitter. There was this hashtag trending and suddenly there was this picture of me plastered all over my timeline.

Claire: I've tried to understand what's going on, and I found out I've been screwing someone's boyfriend for the last year. God I'm so disgusted with myself.

Marci: Don't be, please.

Claire: I swear I wouldn't get with him if I knew that he was taken.

Marci: I don't blame you Claire. Any of you. It's not like you MADE him do it.

Marci: Thank you for contacting me, serioulsy.

Claire: It's the least I could do, I didn't see another option.

Claire: Text me whenever you need and I'll try to shine some light on things.

madi's radio: hello, that's a first smau in a series, so if you want to be notified about the next parts just dm me, i'll set something more efficient up later ;))

click here to be added to the carved my name taglist!

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

[starry-bi-sky]

miscellaneous danyal al ghul things

specifically about the danyal al ghul from my post/prompt here and i wanna get my misc. headcanons/thoughts on him (especially in his early stay with the fentons) out here before i make any other danyal al ghul aus

list under the cut because whoops this got longer than i expected. which really i should have expected

the Fentons are unaffiliated with the League, which was perfect for Danny faking his death.

he struggles with empathy. Empathy was not taught nor encouraged while he was with the League, so it's a skill that's been pretty stunted. At 15 he's better at empathizing with people, but he still struggles with it. He's pretty bad at reassuring/comforting people and usually acts as an emotional rubber duck for Sam and Tucker to vent to if need be. He sometimes offers blunt and sometimes mean opinions, especially if its about another person.

Sam and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin, they are however, pretty positive that he used to be part of an eco-fascist cult with a focus on martial arts?? They've been helping him tone down some of his more,,, extreme views on humanity ever since they caught wind of his more extreme ideologies.

He and Sam are still avid environmentalists and feed into each other quite a bit. They spend plenty of time at protests and pestering the school into more eco-friendly options.

Dash is not dead on the sole fact that Danny knew he had to lay low in Amity Park and killing someone was not, in fact, 'laying low'.

he did, however, traumatize him when Dash first tried to bully him. Safe to say, Danny is not bullied at school and neither are Sam and Tucker.

Danny didn't make any friends in his first year at Amity Park. He was surly, grumpy, standoffish, more stubborn than Sam, and pretty self-important about himself. Jazz was trying to teach him against these things, but she is a 12 year old unaffiliated with the League. Danny did not respect her nor listen to a word she said. It wasn't until like, year two that he finally started paying to mind what she was saying and slowly started to improve on himself

Sam approached him first, he rebuffed her quite harshly, and then Danny approached her sometime afterward when he overheard her talking about environmental rights. Sam completely ignored him though when he agreed with her, and Danny had to later learn that he needed to apologize for being rude to her when they first met. He did so eventually, and they started to talk more with Tucker and Sam.

Danny's a bit more reserved than he is in canon, although he steadily learns how to act as a regular teenager when he's out in public. He's a bit more friendlier at least, although when he's around Sam and Tucker he drops the act. He still has a somewhat formal way of talking, it's just become more casual after a lot of ribbing from Sam and Tucker. When he's angry or annoyed he starts talking poshly though.

His humor is relatively the same as in canon, if somehow dryer and more insulting at some points

Those rare moments where he gets really pissed usually ends up with him insulting someone in arabic or any of the other languages he picked up from the league. He is the go-to for Tucker's Spanish homework. (Tucker makes that mistake and learns that Danny is a very strict teacher)

while Danny doesn't view the Fentons as his parents, even five years after living with them, he does respect them to some amount. He respects them enough at least that when Vlad Masters comes sniffing around, he is suitably offended on both Maddie and Jack's behalf. And when he finds out Vlad was the one who tried to kill Jack and tried to tell him to renounce him as his father/parental guardian, danny threw a suitably sharp object at him and insulted him quite horrendously

Vlad still wants him as his kid. In fact perhaps even moreso after this.

Danny trains with Maddie to keep up with his training. It's not quite the same but it prevents him from getting completely rusty

Sam and Tucker know that Danny has a little brother, but nothing else beyond that other than Danny cares about him quite a lot and that he got his facial scar from keeping him safe.

Danny cares about Sam, Tucker, and Jazz quite a bit, but he struggles to convey it. Especially early on when he realized he cared about them and like instinct started being harsher to them and more critical of their actions. This resulted in quite a few arguments with Sam and Tucker and Jazz until he got sat down and told outright that the way he was treating them wasn't okay. It's a process he's still trying to unlearn even at 15. He has become kinder towards them as a result, and has begun looking for what they did right rather than what they did wrong.

He harbors a lot of guilt over how he treated Damian in the League, and its a pretty big conflict he has with himself since he's torn between telling himself it was for the best to make sure Damian survived the League, and feeling like crap over how harsh/critical of Damian he was and realizing that he probably could have come up with a better way of training him despite being a child himself at the time. Danny comes to the realization that more than anything, that he just wants to apologize.

His ghost form, specifically is outfit, is a combination of his hazmat suit and his uniform from the league, and he carries a sword with him. He also doesn't know how to react to Dani, honestly. Although it is fair to say that he figures out she's a clone instantly because of her whole 'I'm your third cousin once removed' thing and he freaks out. She spills the beans pretty quickly after that. And Danny is pretty skittish around her - or the equivalent of skittish. Her being younger than him kinda reminds him of Damian, so he's uncomfortable by her presence but learns to warm up to her.

[bunfishwiggles]

Alex did not think it through before committing candy theft to befriend the sad kid in the 7-11 (and I'm glad he didn't)

for Things That Bleed.

[strawberryforks]

blue walls, blue eyes, and the blue blanket // cole walter x reader

summary: you don’t have a good home life and end up unofficially moving in with the walter boys.

warnings: physical & verbal abuse, underage drinking, counsellors depicted in a negative light, swearing, canon divergence–jackie’s family never passes away, so while katherine and her mother are still good friends, they’ve not met/moved in with the walters.

word count: 5957

there’s a ding, and the principal is speaking over the pa. everyone stops what they’re doing so nothing is missed. after all, this doesn’t happen often.

the teacher freezes, dry erase marker still pressed firmly against the board, the end squishing and ink bleeding atop the letter he was writing and danny, who’s sitting beside you, gives you a look. you know its meaning, recognize the weight behind it, and know this routine. you stand up quickly. the backs of your knees slam into the hard plastic you had been sitting on and the chair goes skittering back, bumping into the pair of desks behind you.

you’re too tired to send that apologetic smile to anyone else. fortunately danny isn’t. making sure you aren’t alone, aren’t the only one being disruptive and making noise in an otherwise silent classroom, he braces a hand on the back of his chair, twisting around, to face your wide-eyed classmates. “sorry about that,” he whispers.

your movements are all harsh. they’re fast and full of annoyance, as you swipe your textbook, pencil kit, and water bottle off your desk and into your awaiting tote bag.

standing up, you make your way to the door. the teacher stares daggers at you the entire way. They go to grab your arm and you flinch away. “don’t touch me,” you grit, hands gripping around the doorknob so tightly it hurts. air is hitting your face, propelled towards you by the door you shoved open, when you hear your dismissal “please send y/n l/n to guidance,” spoken over the announcements. your teacher follows you out into the hallway, shouting instructions that you reluctantly follow, after you.

you count the tiles on your way. nearly running into the blue door, you end at fifty six.

ms jacobs, tara, as she’ll insist you call her, is a nice enough lady. she has curly brown hair, brown eyes, and perfectly painted on lipstick. she looks disarming, as a counsellor with the numbers of everyone that could ruin your life on speed dial, you suppose she has to. still, this isn’t new. she leads you further into the room and gestures to a chair “take a seat.”

when you don't, her smile becomes more strained. “please, y/n. this doesn’t need to be difficult, we just need to have a chat.”

you sigh, shoulders sagging as you plop down into the hundredth blue thing in this office. doors, trim, there’s a ridiculous amount of the colour and you don’t like it. blue, represents sadness. it’s something you’ve had enough of. sure, there’s other colours. posters upon posters–some neon, and green leaves stuck onto a large potted plant. there’s other colours just like there’s other feelings, but the one you’re stuck on, the one you can’t get over is sadness; it's blue.

“i hate the colour blue, Ms. Jacobs.” You tell her.

“why?” she asks, interested in you opening up further. you don’t.

“are you going to give me the run-down? tell me what i can and can’t say?”

her brows furrow. “do i need to? i called you here to talk about your grades but if there’s something else going on–”

“there isn’t ms jacobs. i do appreciate the concern, though. about my grades. they’re passing, i don’t see the problem.” you didn��t have a single grade above fifty five. it was hard to, when all of your teachers assigned heaps and heaps of homework and you would rather take a deep-dive into hellfire, brimstone, and lakes of lava, then return to the place you were expected to complete it at.

“call me tara.” you don’t.

“ms jacobs, if it would make you happy, i’ll try harder.”

“it would, y/n. thank you.”

you gather your things and stand. a glance at your phone lets you know your second class is over, so you plan to head to the cafeteria. “and y/n, just know that whatever you say to me is confidential.” Unless you are or are planning to hurt yourself, someone else, or if someone is hurting you.

“bye ms jacobs.”

walking into the cafeteria was masochistic in a way, when they were serving your favourite food, and you had no lunch or money to buy any with. still, in your hurried text chain with danny, this is where you had decided to meet. If you had to sit with the theatre kids to score some time with your friend, you would, although it would be better if you could grab him and go somewhere that didn’t make your mouth water and stomach ache.

walking over to his table, you noticed alex was there too. Just chatting with his brother. You and alex weren’t the best friends, but he was nice enough, and like issac, lee, nathan, and cole, you had his number written down in your notepad under the ‘just in case’ column. you didn’t mind alex, he was polite and much like his brother, danny, never made you feel less than. alex was always armed with a smile.

“danny!” you called, announcing your presence so you wouldn’t scare anyone. you smiled at Alex who as expected, mirrored your expression. “nice to see you. mind if I cut in and steal your brother?”

alex nods, “be my guest. i’ll see you at the end of the day danny!”

he leaves and then you’re pulling danny up and along with you. he barely has time to grab his lunchbox before the two of you are leaving the cafeteria and heading outside. you slump down against the brick wall and danny takes a seat across from you. cross-legged, he pulls out two sandwiches and hands one to you. you eyes widen.

“i’m pretty observant,” he supplies, shrugging.

“thank you, d” you eat the sandwich, and it’s a good one. “do you have plans after school?” ‘please don’t be busy, please don’t be busy, please don’t be busy’ you repeat in your head over and over again. it’s a mantra, you’re manifesting. hoping, hoping, hoping.

“y/n/n, i’m sorry, i actually do. erin tried out for the school’s production and she wants help going over her lines–i would invite you to tag along but…”

“no, no!” yoy laugh. manifesting doesn’t work, mantras are pointless, and shit, what are you supposed to do about tonight? “no, danny. don’t worry about it. i know you like erin and this is the perfect opportunity! if she’s asking for help with lines–i mean you’re awesome–but let’s be real, you can go over lines with anyone. so, if she’s asking you specifically for help, that's such a good–a really good sign!”

you two talk for a while longer but it’s easy to see your mind is elsewhere.

the bell rings, you head to your last classes, and then home.

you’ve got to go home.

well, to your house. that place, those four walls, they stopped being your home a long time ago. when your dad got drunk and your mom got mean.

cole walter pulls up beside you on your way home. his truck slows down, nearly to a stop, and you keep walking. your headphones are on and you’re pretending you can’t hear him. you can, but, you hope he’ll tire of shouting, slam his food on the gas pedal, and leave you in a cloud of dust. “y/n, hey! l/n, you need a ride or what?”

the truck stops, pulls off the side of the road and then you’re hearing a door slam and cringing, face crinkling as you realise you should’ve just said no. shouted it, even.

cole walter jogs up to you. he knows your house is quite far away. too far away to be walking. he calls to you again but you’re still walking forward. he places his hand on your shoulder. you know he’s there. you know he’s beside him and still you fucking flinch. the second time today and you're feeling pathetic. you shouldn’t be–really shouldn’t be. it’s not your fault that people can’t seem to respect the concept of personal space, not your fault that your trust has been violated, shredded and spat out, so many times that touch makes you jump. makes you want to jump, or crawl, your way out of your own skin. you flip your headphones down, letting them fall around your neck, but turning your music up a few clicks so you can still hear it. music is your vice, but no one’s complaining because it’s better than alcohol or drugs or, i don't know, being an asshole–you do that too. unintentionally sometimes. like now.

“what?” you snap. on the defensive.

cole isn’t surprised by your flinching. You were dead to the world, listening to music so loud he could hear it from where he stood paces away from you. if he were you–if it was your hand that had sat down onto his shoulder and surprised him he probably would have shouted. he caught you off guard, he was sorry. both of his hands stuck up in the air. “that’s my bad. sorry for scaring you.”

“sorry for–” you guess he did scare you. in a way. “it’s fine. what are you doing here?” you take your time looking at cole. his sharp jaw, full lips, his blue eyes. usually you hate that colour, but on him? it’s not so bad.

“offering you a ride. youe place is pretty far from here, yeah?”

“it is but i like walking.”

“walking is fine and all, but it’s getting colder and it gets dark around five now. by the time you make it home it’ll be past that. my truck has heat, comfy seats, and i’ll even let you have aux.”

you’re not a stranger to the effect cole walter has on everyone. not at all. when he smiles at you, you feel your cheeks warm. you’re an idiot for not taking him up on that offer. your feet already ache and your legs burn.

some things hurt more, though.

actions, all of them, have consequences.

“i’m fine, cole. but thank you. you’re sweet.”

he shakes his head. you aren’t walking anymore, instead, stopped on the side of the road just waiting. this conversation, it’s going places. places you don’t like. “i can’t let you walk home alone. not in good conscience.”

he’s jogging back to his truck and pulling up beside you. he’s leaning over the centre console and pushing the door open. leaning over further, and helping you up, not starting to drive again until your seatbelt is buckled. if only that was the least of your worries. if. only.

“so what do you want to play?”

you plug in your phone and queue up your playlist. a sad song blasts and you hit skip very quickly, not missing the questioning look cole sends you. you laugh, “don’t tell me you’ve never listened to sad music while you’re reading.”

“i don’t read much, and most of the music i listen to is because of the lyrics. those ones were… dark.”

choosing to disregard most of his statement, you echoed his words back to him. “you don’t read much?”

“alex reads a lot. you two would get along.”

“shared interests aren’t everything. we don’t have much in common but i enjoy your company and danny and i click and we both hate each other's favourite tv show with a passion.”

“what show is that?” you tell him and he grins. “that’s my favourite too–seriously. we should get together and watch it sometime.”

“i’d love that!” so, shared interests aren’t everything, but they’re certainly something. you smile for a couple more kilometres and then it gets harder. when you see the sign with your civic on it, you know that the ride, no matter how awesome it was, and how much fun you had, wasn’t worth it.

you hop out of the truck–cole offered to walk you to the door but you denied, knowing you were already in for it. “thank you, though.”

He nodded. “i can give you a ride tomorrow, too. anytime you need one, really. just ask–or get danny to. I really don’t mind.” you smile. thank him again and climb out of the truck. you walk confidently until he pulls out of the long driveway and onto the road. then you sigh, and it’s because of cole’s conscience that you get home before it’s dark enough for you to slip in unnoticed.

you pause on the porch. you don’t want to go in, but you don’t have a choice. not really. what are your other options? run off into the woods and let yourself be some colorado woodland creature’s lunch? knowing what’s coming, it doesn’t sound too bad. you open the door and nearly sob when the wind slams it shut behind you.

your heart beats hard in your chest like your father’s boots do on the floor. “where the hell have you been! days, gone for days. you couldn’t call, couldn’t fucking text,” with each word, most of them slurred, he storms closer. it’s not even suppertime and his eyes are glassed over with that familiar film, his breath a pungent reminder, as obvious as the one in his hand, of what he’s been drinking all day. your mother is behind him in the hallway, puffing on a cigarette, uninterested. “there’s no respect! ya here the brat? thinking they run the place. comin’ and goin without a care.”

“i don’t–i know i don’t run the place.”

“damn right you don’t!” the half empty–you’ve never been a glass-half-full type of person, not growing up in this–bottle of beer come flying at the wall. it hits just above your head, the liquid and brown pieces of glass falling all over you.

“look what you made me do now! gone and spilled m’drink.”

you had taken your converse off at the door. always being yelled at for trekking in mud and dirtying the floor, the hurried steps you take backwards, hurt. your dad is wearing work boots, steel toe, but the only thing between you and the broken glass is a thin pair of socks. your skin splits. the light blue fabric on your feet turns dark red.

you whimper and each step hurts more than the last. then you bump into the wall. “dad, please.”

“calling me tha’ like you think it’ll make me forgive you. fuck,” he throws a glance over his shoulder. “how’d we make something so… so pathetic?”

your mom shrugs, like she hasn’t a clue, either.

“dad, please. i’m sorry, okay? i’ll call next time.”

“there won’t be a fucking next time! get your shit and get out. all we do for you, all we do and you’re still impossible. keep you fed, clothed, give you a place to sleep and just get attitude, attitude, and disrespect. i’m done being disrespected. done!”

“you can’t just kick me out! i have nowhere to go.” you yell. you yelled. you yelled. oh god. oh hell. oh shit. you see his leg rear back and you go to jump out of the way. you’ve already been kicked out–you just need to get out, and quickly. you jump over his leg but then his fist is wrapped in your hair and you’re falling. then the boot you dodged is slamming into you side. again, again, again. tears are streaming down your face. you’re sobbing.

then he’s picking you up by your shirt. lifting you, dragging you. he opens the door, grabs your bag, your shoes, and throws them outside. then, then he throws you. you land on the porch, body aching and pressing into the hardwood.

the door slams and you’re still sobbing. you’re pretty sure that your new mantra is ‘fuck’. it’s what you repeat over and over again as you drag yourself up and away from the front door. You need to get away, you need to get away. You really need to. creating distance between you and that door, you and those people, is priority.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.”

running isn’t really in the cards for you. you limp away and don’t miss your mother peering out the kitchen window. you guess that from her perspective you do look pathetic. but no more pathetic than your dad, the grown man who had to hurt you to feel powerful and get his point across. your pace is terrible but the darker it gets, the further you get. you’re in the woods now, with no idea where exactly you are and not much supplies. maybe you will end up as woodland creature dinner. there’s not much you can do to help it now. you think about calling someone and then you realise your phone isn’t in your bag. you start to shake. choked laughter bubbles it’s way out of your throat. you’re laughing and then the hysterics shift and you’re sobbing. arms wrapped tightly around yourself you cry for what must be hours.

later, slumped against a tree trunk you decide to tackle your feet. one problem at a time, one shard at a time. you pluck pieces out of your skin and the blood makes you feel nauseous. when the job is done, you slide your socks back on, and walk towards the sound that comforts you most. Rushing water. you find a river, and kneel at its edge. you wash your socks, yourself, and dry on a stone in the sun. you scrub the dirt and grime from your feet. when your socks are mostly dry and the cuts have stopped gushing blood, you put on your shoes and lace them up. then you follow the river. you’ll reach town soon enough. your face isn’t marred, just the rest of you, all hidden beneath layers of clothes–a long sleeve, a flannel, blue jeans.

ideally, you’ll find danny.

you don’t live in an ideal world. the boy you find is not danny but he wants something you can give and has something you need–a place to sleep. you do so without clothes, lying next to him. What you did was in the dark, would stay that way, because before he woke, before you were made to converse with the nameless boy, you dressed and snuck out. the walk of shame was just that, shameful. you felt horrendous. your body still hurt and you found yourself walking into a cafe you knew haley, will’s wife worked at.

asking for handouts made your stomach sour but you couldn’t do much else.

haley was scrubbing down a table when you approached her. “hey, haley.”

“y/n, hey, how’s it going?” then she turned to you and realised, not good. that it was not going good. you shot her a flattened smile. “i really hate to ask. like, i really really do, but i haven’t eaten in a bit and was wondering–”

“yeah, yes. of course. just have a seat, i’ll grab you… do you have any dietary restrictions?” you answer her, and when she comes back, handing you a wrapped meal you thank her profusely. “is there anything you need done around here? i appreciate this so much, but i don’t want to take advantage. i can clean–i’m not a great cook but I can make coffee.”

“you don’t need to do anything. you aren’t taking advantage. not at all. is there anything else i can do for you? anyone i can call? your parents?”

fear fills your eyes and perceptive as ever, she catches it. “not them, please.” is what you whisper. haley nods, disappears behind the counter and makes a phone call. then, she dotes on you for the next ten minutes until wil pulls up outside. he comes in, walks over to your table and sits down across from you.

you’re pretty sure you’ve been caught. the ruse, it’s very much up.

“what’s going on, y/n?”

you shrug and sip at the hot chocolate haley made for you. “well, come on. you don’t have to say anything right now but let’s get you home.” you stand, ready to go anywhere but, and will stops you. “my parent’s home, danny’s. katherine knows you’re coming. come on, kid.”

you follow him to the car. most of the drive is silent, but you thank him when the walter’s house homes into view and katherine is waiting outside on the porch with a smile. up the few stairs, and you head straight for her. you’re grateful for her gentle nature, because as you throw your arms around her and squeeze, she simply rests hers on your back, rubbing soothing circles. “they–they kicked me out.”

she takes a minute to respond, only because she finds this hard to process. you were a good kid, a great one, and she, having so many of her own, couldn’t think of a single thing that would make her abandon or discard one of her own children. “you’ll stay with us then.” it isn’t a question and you’re glad because how would you have answered? your mouth is dry but your eyes aren’t.

you sit in danny’s room. he isn’t home from school yet but he will be soon. katherine and george are upstairs making room for you. you feel like a burden, they assure you that you are not.

you’re waiting for danny, only he isn't who makes it home first. it’s cole. he walks in, tosses his bag down onto the bed, none the wiser that there’s another person in the room. his back faces you and he’s rifling through a drawer when he hears you hiccup. he turns around quickly. Sees you, crying in his brother's bed and immediately his brows are furrowed. “y/n?” he walks closer. the bed is near to the ground so he drops onto his knees. he’s close to you know but he’s made himself less intimidating. “y/n/n? hey.”

“hi Cole.”

“are you okay?”

“i’ve been better.”

cole doesn’t ask, he doesn’t push. instead he opens his laptop, logs into his netflix and puts on the favourite show you both discussed watching together. when the two of you are settled. him on the floor, face resting on the mattress, where you’re curled up in a blanket that belongs to his brother, he breaks the silence. “do you want me to get danny?”

“where is he?”

“he’s with erin at the school. i think they’re going over details for the production. but i can go get him if you need him. do you need him?”

you shake your head. as danny’s best friend you were the biggest ‘derin’ shipper there was. plus, cole was here. he made things okay. “no, no thanks. i don’t really want you to go anywhere if that’s okay?”

“that’s more than okay, but i will say, my bed is comfier.”

you smile for the first time in a bit, looking at the uncomfortable position he has himself in. “yeah? well, we should definitely watch this, over there then.”

“my thoughts exactly.” cole grabs the laptop, grabs you, still wrapped in the blanket he tells himself he’ll replace from the linen closet, and carries both over to his bed. you squeal a bit and bite back a real whimper when his hand touches what you know has to be a massive bruise, sitting you down.

you fall asleep, leaning against him. he pauses the show, closes his laptop, and promises to resume it when you’re awake to watch it with him. then he sends a threatening text to his brother, danny.

COLE: Y/n/n has had a rough day and is sleeping in our room

COLE: Wake her up and you’ll get hit

DANNY: is she okay??? ALSO since when do you call her y/n/n???

COLE: I’ll see you later

COLE: Tell Erin hi for me

DANNY: fuck off

george and katherine didn’t receive that same threatening text but when they peeked into the room to check on you and found you cuddled up against cole, snoring lightly, and looking peaceful they left you be. your room was ready and in the morning you moved into it. your clothes were dirty and katherine washed them for you but in the meantime… well it was her dresses or… or what you went with.

you knocked your fist against the door and cole opened it, shirtless.

“hey cole,” look at his face. just his face. only his face.

“hey y/n. What can i help you with?”

your hand flew to the back of your neck which you rubbed awkwardly. “can i, uh… would you mind if I borrowed a pair of jeans and a belt?” cole chuckled, then realised you were completely serious. then he gave you the jeans. then the belt. “need a shirt too?”

you laughed, cheeks stained pink. “i wouldn’t mind…”

he handed you the plain black one in his hand. “riding with me to school?”

“if i’ve got shotgun.”

“‘course.” he said, grinning.

you headed upstairs and got changed. the pants were big but with the belt, and them cuffed they fit alright. then, came the shirt. it fell mid thigh but once you tucked it in a bit it didn’t look too terrible. you brushed your hair, your teeth, and headed downstairs. george looked at you with wide eyes and you shrugged, “i don’t really like dresses?”

katherine sighed. “we’ll get you some clothes after school.”

“from the thrift store!” you amended.

she rolled her eyes but agreed anyway. then, you were sitting beside cole on the way to school, during the one class you shared, and at lunchtime. you weren’t ditching danny, just his time was split between you and erin now. they started dating. they were sweet, good for and to, each other.

you’d only been living with the walters for two days, but everything was great. until cole invited you to the lake house. two coolers had you feeling buzzed and when it was your first turn, playing ‘truth or dare’, you picked truth and ended up faced with a question you didn’t want to answer. so you turned, and pressed your lips to cole’s. his lips parted in surprise, but then he kissed you back, tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. his hands flew to cup your face, your eyes were shut, and you were feeling things. until someone whistled and another yelled: “get a room!”

next round, you were three coolers in and ballsy enough to pick dare. “i dare you to jump into the lake!”

you rolled your eyes. like that was difficult. sure, it was a bit chilly, but you’d been in the river days ago. rushing water compared to water the sun had beat down on all day was nothing. you grinned, and ran to the edge of the dock, canon-balling and sending water flying everywhere. when you surfaced you saw the asshole who wore cole’s jersey shaking water out of his hair like a dog. you grinned, and started to swim back over when you saw something that caused you to sober up quickly. the foundation and powder you had painted on top of the hand shaped bruise on your arm had worn off. gone. It was gone and fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

when you didn’t get out of the water immediately cole was curious. when your face reflected horror, he was concerned.

“you good?” you weren’t. he walked over to the edge and dipped his hand in. the water was freezing. “come on out, you’ll get sick.”

you shook your head, plastering a clearly fake smile on your face. “my immune system is really strong and i want to swim! i’ll be fine cole, gonna go that way.” you make a gesture with your head and begin to paddle in that general direction. away from the lakehouse, away from the people, away from the party. away from cole—or, you tried to get away from cole. he walked on the bank, steps matching your strokes as he followed you. “get out of the water, y/n.” you were still swimming, and now cole was having to duck under and climb over branches and bushes to continue following. now, you couldn’t even hear the people at the lake house.

“no thank you.”

“don’t be stubborn. this was—it was funny thirty minutes ago! It’s lost the charm. just get out, we’ll go back and…”

“i don’t want to go back.”

“then we’ll go home. would that make you happy? we can leave, we don't have to go back to school, i can take you home.”

“i want to stay in the water, cole.”

“y/n, just get out of the fucking lake. it’s not that hard! i don’t understand why you won’t—“

you’re in waist deep water and all of you is submerged until it isn’t. you stand up quickly. teats sting your eyes and emotion clogs your throat. “you don’t understand, huh?” your voice breaks, shatters, and cracks. “does this help? do you see why when i say i want to keep swimming, i mean it? do you see why i want to stay in the water cole?”

he sees something. he sees bruises on your arms. deep purple handprints put there by too big hands and with too much force—force that never should have been used on you. he’s blinking, his eyes are seeing but his mind isn’t thinking, not fast enough.

“do you see?!” you’re shouting now, sobbing too. “because the makeup washed off and now you can see it. bow everyone can. everyone will see and then they’ll report it and i’ll end up in the system in an equally shitty situation! cole,” another wave of sobs interrupts, “cole don’t make me get out of the water.” he doesn’t, he climbs in with you. water soaks his boots, the bottoms of his jeans, you hear it slosh as he takes large steps and closes the distance between you both. “y/n/n.”

“what?” it’s a sob, a plea.

“we’re going to get out of the lake. i’m going to walk you through the woods, out to the road and then i’m going to go get my truck. i’ll be ten minutes tops. i’ll grab my hoodie too.”

“it’s… it’s back on the chair.”

“the red one, i know.”

“okay…”

cole keeps his word, but after five minutes you hear his truck. it stops, he hops out. he sets the hoodie on top of you and you shimmy into it. “No one will see, no one you don’t want to know, will know. but y/n, you will never go back there, okay? not to that house, not ever, because if you go, i’m following, and the things i do, most authorities will not agree with.”

“i don’t ever want to go back there.”

“you won’t ever have to.”

“thank you.”

“don’t thank me for helping you with something that never should’ve happened. we’ll get you some ice as soon as we’re home.” cole cranks the heat up and angles the fans to point your way.

he opens your door for you and walks closely behind you. no one else is home—katherine and george both working and the others at school. cole raids the freezer for anything remotely icey and heads up to your room. he makes a pit-stop to grab his laptop and some snacks from a drawer none of his brothers would ever know about. he steals the blanket you like off of danny’s bed too—the soft one with the blue plaid.

you both watch the show, he looks concerned when you press the frozen peas to your side too. you lift your shirt, show him the damage and he freezes. “ugly, huh?”

“nothing about you has ever been ugly, y/n/n but jesus, maybe we should go to a hospital.”

“flattery will get you everywhere cole but there’s no denying i looked like van gogh fucked up starry night—and no hospital. they’d like immediately call someone. plus i think they’re just bruised and not broken so that’s good.”

“i’m sorry that this happened to you.”

“oh don’t do that. i hate when people apologise for things that aren’t their fault.”

“can i apologise for danny, then? for him not realising what was happening sooner?” cole asked. people weren’t perfect, you realised that then, cole having said the first thing that genuinely upset you. this was no one’s fault. No one but your scum of the earth parent’s.

“no. danny didn’t do anything wrong. i didn’t want him to know and usually i’m good at hiding these things.” a bitter laugh, and: “usually.”

“i blame the alcohol, but, i guess it’s nice that you know.”

“i’m glad i know.”

and he is. he carries your bag, your books, even goes thrifting with you and katherine. “i like this one,” he’d said, holding up a shirt that barely had any fabric to it. you rolled your eyes for the fiftieth time and picked out a baggy graphic tee shirt instead.

at school he walks you to and from your classes. he sits with you at lunch and helps you come up with excuses—none so awesome that they work without the grin and charm he lays on your pe teacher.

weeks later, your bruises were healed, and to the blind eye, the only indication you’d been abused was the occasional flinching. cole tended to call out his moves before he made them, especially if you weren’t sure exactly where he was. your arguments–few and far between, seriously, the only thing you’d argued about so far was where you went for lunch, were had with calm voices and distance between the two of you. cole was perfect. he never caught you off guard, he was just always there.

wouls see you getting anxious and move closer. “i’m going to hold your hand,” he’d whisper. when you needed someone to talk to it was always him because he was always there.

then, one night, the two of you were sitting on that same blue plaid blanket. the one you loved–the one cole had paid danny $40 for. you were both staring up at the same stars, both wondering the same thing: when had you become so close? you weren’t sure if there was a turning point, a particular defining moment, but cole had taken danny’s place in your heart as ‘best friend’. cole had done that and more. he was more to you than that. he baked your favourite pastry, would go just about anywhere with you, and he made you smile. he made you feel safe. he had told no one your secret–but katherine and george had a clue, enough of one that they welcomed you with open arms and seldomly raised their voices. enough of one, that for that first few weeks, the ice was always restocked in the freezer.

they had an idea.

but cole knew. knew everything. knew and made you feel okay in spite of everything. he knew and still.. still looked at you like… like that. cole, he leaned in closer. you waited and listened. “i’m going to kiss you. because i want to. because i love you how you deserve to be loved. and not because of some truth or dare game.

“it wasn’t bad though, right? because i thought it was a pretty good ki–”

cole walter kept his word. he kissed you, and sure, the kiss at the lake house was good. this one was just better.

[abrielarnold]

anomalous memes for anomalous teens

(this is a psa. please read Things That Bleed. it is so good.)

[wigglybunfish]

Good evening and please take these 5/2 human beans gently in your palms.

Hmm? Where are they from, you ask?

Why, it's the one and only Things That Bleed! Written by @ghostly-cabbage , @kkachis , and @artistfingers . In which it establishes the possibility of sometimes family being a child spy, a scary scary assassin, and an eldritch horror boy.

Recently went back for a ... I honestly lost count how many times I've re-read this story. It's a gift that just keeps on giving, sometimes I just like go back to get soaked in the Scenery of quiet and restless hotels and underground parking lots and long car rides. hohoho don't let these mundane elements deceive you >:)

One thing I like to imagine is the post-reveal relationship these three may have, when Alex and Yassen get comfortable around Danny's ghost form, how they might just sit around in some rundown motel figuring out the next course of action but like. With a fun-sized eldritch noodle spreaded out on the bedsheets. Draped over the TV. Curled up in the cool tub or mini fridge. Rolling and eeling under the bed. Letting Alex wear him like a scarf. Yeah... yeah.

I am not certain how soft and fluffy these three can be when they spend enough time (and experience some Horrors) together, so these may be a bit ooc. but, well. I had fun drawing and I have faith in them💪

----------

more info of the fic can be found @thingsthatbleedfic

[mcdannowave]

Always and forever.

[ghostly-penumbra]

I was thinking of halfa!Jason Todd bc like, HELL YEAH

and i like to use different headcanons and rotate them, so I was thinking of the one where a halfa's ghostly form reflects the age in which they died, even though their living form still ages

and I also remembered the canon detail where, whenever a ghost shows up or Danny transforms, the background/enviroment's colour palette switches too

and in Amity Park, that changes the regular clear colours into purples and green

but in Gotham

so like, you have the Red Hood, scary crime lord, but someone's threatening his city, his home

and let's say that threat released the ambient ectoplasm in the place, and Red Hood is stronger

and in a scene I can't properly narrate here in casual conversation but that looks really cool in my head... he goes ghost!

and then there is Robin! the second one! in a different suit, of course, a clear blue, but him all the same

and with his arrival, the dark, gloomy gothamite landscape becomes clear, colourful

Robin's magic brings light to Gotham

[bun-fish]

WIP update !!!

Imaginary Book Cover huehuehue

Of @noir-renard 's If You Give A Bat A Burger

(tap for better quality :)

markers and color pencils, the basics works the best.

I thought about toning down the colors (or just straight up leave it the way it is) of our resident fully-dead ghosts, but I couldn't resist adding the pink hair & boxing gloves Angela deserves ;)

there are two Yoricks in this btw

Just the Gang (in progress):

[love-emy]

beach!

social media au

lando norris x reader

a/n: i’m now trying to compensate for the lack of racing that is happening in the next couple of months. god i’m gonna be depressing and rewatch basically this entire season. also the oscar photo in this is so cunty and slay to me it makes me giggle. sry for being mia too but oh well

[misanocircuit]

F1 drivers being Ferrari fans! 🐎

1/2

[letthewhumpbegin]

Hawaii Five-0, s10e22