#his fault!

[grandprix-ao3]

user grandprix-ao3 i must ask if u still write for grandprix on ao3 or if ur on miamis now !

i have not like Officially left grandprix behind or anything i have just drawn the line between which ships i post on what account and the ships i post on miamis are the ships i have more motivation to write atm... so it's not like. a move that means grandprix Died or something it's more that i really like writing loscar and all that goes on miamis

[arttuff]

pay attention to him NOW

[chloesimaginationthings]

Why did William get FNAF springlocked? Is he stupid?

[daftmooncretin]

armand and louis are like that couple that have a baby to save their marriage but instead of having a baby they emotionally torture an old man that they both kind of want to fuck

[hinamie]

spins him around trying to understand the pink mop he calls hair

[doctorsiren]

The books reveal that Ford is actually a secret partier

(Available as a print on my Etsy Shop)

(wips under cut)

[n4rval]

i lied. here's a bonus.

[sonicman66]

DpxDc fic where Danny is just haunting the Bats and providing memes to the internet whilst being invisible

Because I read a fic ('the curious case of who lives in the walls' by RaccoonRobyn over on ao3) that has Danny chilling in the Wayne Manor's walls and commenting on the Wayne's habits and goings on and i just

Tl;dr danny has a twitter page where he invisibly follows the bats and documents their funny mistakes like a nature documentary.

One day a Gothamite spots a new twitter page on their feed. Its not got a lot of posts, but they're all pictures. And the first one is... Nightwing. Lying on the concrete, face-down, with another bat or bird very obviously laughing at him.

They think nothing of it. They compliment the photoshop for its realism, and move on. Except there's more pictures. All of them, every last one of them, has the Bats and Birds suffering from a trip, fall, a gaffe, a misstep, anything and everything.

And then they find a video

Its clearly a handheld or phone camera, pointed at Robin in an alleyway. Someone starts talking, in a very poor attempt at sounding like David Attenborough, narrating like a wildlife documentary. "Here we see the youngest of the Bat-brood partaking in one of its more private behaviors, unseen and unknown by its kin."

And Robin just. Steps further into the alleyway and gets swarmed by stray cats, all begging for food. He grins and starts feeding them, all whilst narration continues, talking about this like its an animal's behavior.

And they have more. So many more.

A video of Red Hood. He does a fancy gun twirl when nobody's around, bobbles it, and accidentally fires into the ground. He picks it up and acts like nothing happened. But the video sees all.

A video of Batman on a gargoyle on a skyscraper, with shaky footage from clearly around a corner, but on the same level. "Commentary on this specimen has been added in post, for reasons you will soon see. Batman, the patriarch of the Bat-Brood, is incredibly elusive to research, and for good reason." In the video, the camera jolts a little and Batman turns suddenly to the sound of rocks moving. The camera goes still, and Batman scans the area, seemingly seeing nothing. Then, his white eyes turn blue, and he looks directly into the camera. Footage ends.

The acc posts a screenshot of a dm that is very clearly an Oracle sockpuppet. She has sent something along the lines of 'how have you obtained this footage, this is dangerous,' etc etc. His response is 'i am in ur walls lol'

He is not aware of the level of Bat Paranoia this brings out.

[shotmrmiller]

your superior finding out about the secret praise kink you didn't know had a name because you'd always been called an over achiever, a goody two shoes. never gave anyone any trouble, nose burrowed in a book since you had knobby knees and a library card.

you'd thought it normal that the apples of your cheeks burned when praised after giving your teacher the drawing you'd made for them the night before. that heat spread from the center of your chest up when your first boyfriend/girlfriend whistled at the sight of you outside of uniform. that warmth settles in your belly when you get a pat on the back from your platoon leader firm enough to force the air out of your lungs because you'd disassembled and cleaned a glock with the ease of a professional.

apparently it wasn't.

after weeks of training with the fabled task force, weeks of sharing elbow room with the team, weeks of soaking up the dizzying praise from the captain ("did real good out there, eh? can always count on you." you didn't question the throb betwixt your thighs, taking care of it with a cute little bullet like you've always done since joining the military)

you're confronted by the worst of the lot. ghost catches you in a break room, your back to him, hands clutching a cup of coffee that's more sludge than liquid, its warmth barely seeping through the styrofoam.

his figure fills the doorway, shoulders nearly brushing the frame. your first thought is that his brows aren't twisted together and he lacks that cold, blank look in his eyes so your death isn't in the nearest of futures. the second is that when he's not fully covering his face, the outline of his jaw is quite visible, looking sharp enough to cut.

then he crosses his sculpted arms over his chest, seams straining against the expanse of his muscles, head tipped to the side.

he moves with the keen curiosity of a predator sniffing around a newborn fawn, gaze intense yet inquisitive, assessing your every detail with a menacing interest.

"you ever gonna tell me you've a praise kink, bird?" the question sends a chill through your veins before turning into a fiery rush as it races at twice the normal speed.

praise kink? no. surely not. doesn't everyone like to receive compliments?

"sure. i don't mind gettin' told i've an impressive cock but that's bed talk. you look ready to bend over 'nd show us how slick tha' pretty cunt can get over a rufflin' of hair and a couple of empty words."

that has you positively reeling, fingertips cracking the cup in your hands, pulse on your neck fluttering. you feel a cornered, skittish animal, ready to flee lest your life come to an end in his maws.

but as usual, the cruel man more creature than person, twists the knife he's dug into you with a certain ruthlessness only he can muster.

"so be good for me, eh? love your praise? earn it."

you've always been an over achiever, proven once again by the way you take him to the root in one long, broad stroke with any complaints at the sheer size of him resting firmly behind your clenched teeth.

"tight little thing, spread open over me like you were meant for it. for me." he runs a gloved thumb over your swollen bottom lip. "there's tha' look. drivin' me bloody insane when you gave kyle tha' molten gaze. none o' tha' now, yeah?"

he creeps his ungloved hand down to circle your pearl with the spit-slick pads of his fingers, drawing in a sharp breath when your walls flutter and constrict around his cock at the feel of something other than your toy giving you the relief you need after a hard day's work.

"bloody fuckin' 'ell."

ghost claims a fistful of hair, pulling you closer to him, his breath warming the stinging, throbbing mark he bit onto the delicate skin of your neck. the shuffling of feet right outside the door snap you out of your daze, fingernails sinking into the bulging muscle of his chest but he has none of it.

he uses your hair to direct your focus back onto him and even though he'd only given you a leading tug you felt some strands of your hair come off with a pop.

"easy. can't see your pretty face when i'm fuckin' ya if your lookin' away."

your expression twists into what you hope is bliss when he bucks his hips, your whimper drowning out his groan when he hits on something new.

something you want him to keep hitting.

"exactly like i'd thought."

everything else blurs together after that, and only when you're back in your room using a warm cloth to clean yourself up do you remember the other things he'd rumbled.

(inside o' ya, make you mine-)

(-get 'bout bein' with anyone else-)

(-ll to myself-)

you touch your tender pussy with gentle fingers at what he'd said in the end.

(leave tha' f'me, he swipes your hand away, i'll get ya there, pet.)

if price's compliments take a nose dive off a cliff you don't notice because you're getting your daily fill of them and ghost after dinner every night. kyle keeps them to one word and soap likes to tempt fate as always.

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[nic-is-the-worst]

[stampgwifeyera]

hilson be like

[jcjoeyfreak]

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Mike and Michael meet their younger selves..

[mequetrefis]

free him

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

*Danny and a Batfam member having a friendly chat at a cafe. They've known each other for a few months now*

Batfam member: "You know, you actually kinda look like B with a few minor differences. Prime adoption bait. Hope you're not another secret love child of his." *laughs*

Danny: *Starts sweating bullets because he is in fact, Bruce's kid but from a different dimension where instead of being a himbo billionaire, he's a himbo ghost hunter named Jack who almost killed him before he got here .* "Haha, you don't say?"

Batfam member: *Clocks in on sudden shift in mood* "Please tell me you're not."

Danny: "So do you want the short and funny story, or the long and sad one? Yes, there's a right answer."

Batfam member: *crying because they can never have a normal sibling*

Danny: Also, do you believe in ghosts?

Batfam member: *cries even more*