ri-afan

[ri-afan]

theres a lot wrong with the fact that every tv program is a subscription platform these days but what has really caused us to stray from the light is the absolute lack of shitty quality commercials. where's the badly filmed used car commercials? the terrible vonage phone commercials? the weird local political campaigns? we need to be humbled and forced to watch the most bonkers insane 5 minutes of advertising smack in the middle of the climax of shows again

[ri-afan]

Love that every strangers reaction to the Forgers is “they’re hot and in love?! DISGUSTING!” and then any attempt to break them up leads to one or the other of them royally rocking that stranger’s shit (how dare you insult my fake spouse!!!) leaving said stranger utterly destroyed for even daring to vaguely insinuate that they’re not a perfectly normal family, and the whole time these two idiots are like “wow, that was so kind of them ☺️ what a thoughtful gesture ☺️ they’re such a good parent for Anya ☺️ hope they don’t see right through me 😰 not that I care 😳,”

[ri-afan]

DP x DC Prompt #18

One night while lamenting about Joker to Phantom, Phantom asks him a few odd questions. Joker's not a real clown, of course he wouldn't have an egg? Maybe he should've been concerned when Phantom said he'd take care of it.

He wasn't prepared for Batman to call him because of the Joker. No, not because of Joker, but for Joker. Apparently a bunch of clowns were beating up Joker for giving clowns a bad name.

It was the funniest night of Dick's life.

[ri-afan]

Dammit, people, if you’re going to write a Canadian character, you can’t just throw “eh” in wherever. It’s not a verbal tic - it has a very specific semantic role.

In brief, “eh” does one of two things:

Turn an imperative into a request. e.g., “Pass me that wrench, eh?”

Turn a statement into a question. e.g., “Cold out there, eh?”

In the latter case, there are several situations where it’s commonly used:

The speaker is not sure that the statement she’s just made is correct, and is asking the listener to confirm. e.g., “That’s about forty kilometers West of here, eh?”

The speaker is checking that the listener is still interested and wishes for her to continue, but does not expect any specific response. e.g., “So then this freakin’ moose shows up, eh?”

The speaker is being sarcastic. e.g., “You really thought that one through, eh?”

When used in this way, “eh” is roughly equivalent to appending “isn’t it?” (“doesn’t it?”, “didn’t you?”, etc.) to the end of a sentence; interestingly, it also functions very much like the Japanese “ne”, which has a nearly identical effect when appended to a statement.

Now you know.

[ri-afan]

Very much inspired by this !!

—

Phantasm crashed into the side of a building, the rest of his team- the TeenTitans- stayed back. They were otherwise occupied, with the rest of the H.I.V.E. five attacking them.

They'd gotten a new member, one with a similar, nearly identical power set of their own new member.

Phantom.

Phantasm and Phantom, two mirror look alikes, they went absolutely feral whenever one was in sight. It was driving Robin mad, Beast Boy had joked about cloning but after they started to actually consider that option.

"Well, well, well." Phantom mocks, glowing green to Phantasm's red.

"Shut. The fuck. Up." Phantasm charges again, throwing the other into windows with a growl.

They kept bickering, hitting and injuring each other, until—

"Stop being so annoying!" Phantasm shouts, baring his fangs. Phantom, in return, stuck his tongue out.

"You're just jealous I got the Villain role!!"

At this point, their respective teams had called a draw and watched them fighting.

"You're a lousy villain!"

"I'm having the time of my life beating the shit out of you actually."

"I'm calling jazz."

At that, Phantom starts glaring. "I thought we agreed on not bringing this up to our sister?"

[ri-afan]

what does it mean if people keep tagging my personal posts harry dubois

[ri-afan]

Immediate Roadside Assistance Required

Phic phight fill for sapphireshield (no tumblr listed)

Warnings for: extremely mild depictions of domestic violence

The car that pulls over is a SUV. Beige. Kind of grimy. There’s a mom at the front; inside, Dani bets there’s probably one or two kids.

The mom rolls down the window. She looks nice. Kind of soft. Tough, in a kind of mom sort of way, but soft enough to see a girl with her thumb out at the side of the road and actually pull over. It’s a sweet gesture; Dani has a vague idea that hitchhiking hasn’t been trendy since the eighties, so this’ll have to do.

The mom sticks an elbow out the window and looks Dani up and down. “You alright, sweetheart?” she asks, a different twang on her tongue than the vowels Dani’s been used to all her (short) life. Dani might be out farther than she thought.

Dani grins. For this mom, it’s nice ‘n sweet. “I’m good! I need a ride, though; I’m trying to get to my stepparent’s place. Tryin’ to get as far as the border.”

The woman flattens her lips. She probably thinks Dani’s a runaway, but she’s not. Dani’s something a lot worse.

“You sure?” The mom looks up at the sky, even as her kid squeals about something snack-related in the back. “It’s about to get dark out, honey. Storm’s coming.”

Dani’s grin doesn’t let up. “I’m gonna go meet my brother! I already know where I’m gonna lay up, so don’t worry!”

The mom is for sure worrying; worrying her lip between her teeth, and worrying over a scruffy kid in a torn-up hoodie. “...Well. ‘Long as I get to see him when we get there. Hop in.”

Dani grins, and hops up in the car.

It’s a little warmer in there. Smells like cheerios; there’s a baby, Dani notices, in the back seat. It’s got her middle two fingers in its mouth and big brown eyes.

Dani waves. The baby stares, since babies do that, and Dani occupies herself by making funny faces over the shoulder of the passenger seat, eager to elicit a giggle from a little kid. She loves little kids. She wishes she’d been allowed to be one.

“You might want to turn around and buckle in, young lady,” the mom drawls, wiping stress off her forehead. “Don’t want you to die if we end up in a crash.”

I can’t, Dani doesn’t say, because she’s nice. I’m already dead.

So she turns around and buckles herself in. The mom flicks on the radio, and a woman’s voice starts growling over an electric guitar and a roughed-up drum kit. It sounds fun.

This ride’s going to be good. Dani grins, all teeth and brimstone. There’s a storm rolling in, bad luck hanging in the air like vapor and sparks. Lightning’s on its way.

It’s a long way to the state border. Dani’s going to enjoy every minute she can with the window down, electricity in her fingers, and the quiet humming of the driver singing along.

*

They make it to a rest stop about three quarters of the way there.

Dani’s not against stopping, so she just peeks out the window, watching cars and exhausted drivers slog through the paved flats of the rest stop parking lot. “What’re we doing?” Dani asks, entertained in her own way. Maybe this nice mom is going to try to hand her off to CPS!

It wouldn’t work, but, you know. It would be kind of annoying, if ultimately well-meaning.

“Diaper change for the baby,” the mom offers, and, yeah, that’s practical. “Vending machine break for me. Bathroom break for you, probably.”

Oh, that checks out. “Alright!”

The child lock pops, and Dani hops out of the car; she waits, patiently, for the mom to bring out the baby, who looks even more luminous asleep and spitty than when it's awake.

“It slept through a lot of Rock ‘n’ Roll,” Dani admires. The baby gets held to mom’s chest, a blanket wrapped around them both. “That’s cool.”

“He’s heard a lot of Joan Jett since he was born. I’d be shocked if he couldn’t sleep through a hurricane at this point.”

Dani trots after the mom, patient in her wake. They don’t look too much alike, so maybe there are other people wondering if they even know each other at all, or if Dani’s getting kidnapped or traded away for cigarettes. Or probably they just think Dani’s getting babysat, helping watch a baby while the mom ends up driving them over and away from wherever Dani’s landed herself this time.

The diapers the baby uses are a thick, sort of plush material. They look soft. There are little pastel teddy bears on them: one blue, one pink. Dani gets to touch one when the Mom asks her to pull one out of the big blue bag. There are a whole lot crammed in there; they’re packed in so tight that it’s hard to pull one out of the stack without pulling out all the others, but the baby can only wear one diaper at a time!

“Thanks, sweetheart,” the mom says. It’s the nicest anyone’s been to Dani in ages. She’s glad she lived long enough to hear a soft mom call her sweetie and sweetheart for no reason other than being convenient. “You have to go?”

Dani shakes her head. The mom gives her a look. “We’ll be in the state for another hour. You want to try, at least?”

…She hesitates. The baby doesn’t notice, busy playing with its toes as its mom tries to wriggle it back into its butt covering for the sake of covering its butt. She doesn’t usually have bodily functions that actually…function. But the mom lady didn’t know that.

Whatever. She’d play a game of Snake in there. “‘Kay.”

Dani goes into a stall, flicks open her phone, and manages to eat like twenty little pixels before she actually runs into her own little snake body and dies. Ugh. It doesn’t take up too much time— how much time are humans supposed to spend in the bathroom, anyway??— so she fires up a new game and almost gets through it before she hears someone yell. Dani jolts.

The baby starts crying, faint and far away. Dani quickly grabs herself together and puts the phone away. If something’s happening— something happening to the mom and the baby—

Dani dashes out of the bathroom. There’s a guy at the door. There’s a guy holding the baby by the arm so that the baby is dangling and the guy is yelling at the mom who’d driven Dani here, physically pushing her when she tries to get her baby back.

The instinct to hit him is impossible to wrangle. It’s too bad, but Dani has to help the baby and the mom. Hitting him might hurt the baby, if she isn’t careful— doubly true if she uses an ecto-blast.

She goes invisible instead.

Carefully pulling the baby intangibly through the man’s grip is a quiet, tense process. The baby keeps crying and crying and crying, but the more she hides it, the quieter the cries seem.

And then there’s a baby shallowly crying in her arms.

The guy doesn’t even realize, too busy shoving and hitting the mom who’d done nothing wrong. Dani hates this guy. He reminds her of Vlad— too angry that he isn’t getting his way, and never understanding why no one’s obeying him fast enough.

Dani hoists the baby into one arm, mirroring the way the mom had carried it into the rest stop when they first came in. The hold doesn’t feel as secure as Dany thinks it ought to, but it frees up a hand.

Dani grabs the mom’s hand.

The woman disappears into thin air. The guy looks so spooked.

Dani giggles. Either way, it’s super easy and simple to fly the mom and the baby through the bathroom walls, and hiding them in the bathroom cleaner closet seems safer than hiding them in a stall. Dani doesn’t pause when the mom gasps, frightened by the change in scenery; she pops the baby into her arms and disappears back the way she came.

Dani Phantom has a guy to beat up.

There are lots of ways to scare humans, Dani finds; humans are afraid of the dark, and afraid of what they can’t control. They’re afraid of pain, and they’re afraid of loud noises. Humans aren’t afraid of everything all the time, but they can be afraid of more things when they’re combined than when they’re not.

So Dani flexes her aura. The lights flicker in the main room of the rest stop. The man stops, but his hand is still raised.

He looks to see where the baby is, and realizes that he’s empty-handed. The woman is gone.

The lights go out.

Dani loves being seen sometimes. She doesn’t like being bothered, but she loves attention when she knows no one can call the cops on her; so she drips green. She lets herself glow, gloopy and malformed, as she pulls herself through the wall. She turns melty eyes onto the man who took the baby from its mom.

The guy kind of looks like he’s going to piss himself. Good.

Dani starts to fake cry. It starts out as little sniffles— and then moans, and sobs, Dani clawing herself out of the wall until she’s floating, midair, half-formed and wailing. She kind of hopes she looks super spooky, like one of those CGI gross guys from Stranger Things, or that girl who walked down the stairs in a spooky backbend one time.

The guy steps back. Great. Dani inches forwards. The guy steps back again, face pale as a china plate, looking inches from giving up the ghost and bolting off to the parking lot.

Excellent.

Dani takes her hands off of her face to show melting, distorted features. And she screams.

The guy is gone in seconds. He should just be a sprinter instead of bullying moms and their little babies! Dani huffs, hands on her hips. Whatever. As long as he’s gone, he can do whatever he likes.

Dani barely remembers to set her face right before going to get the mom and baby out of the closet. It doesn’t matter how human she looks, though, because when she opens the door back up for them, the mom looks like she’s seen a ghost.

Dani grins, and probably her teeth aren’t showing anything too weird or spooky. “That guy left! Can we go now?”

The mom takes a deep, rattling breath. She does that thing where she touches her forehead, her chest, and then the air above her shoulders. No one’s told Dani what that means so far, but she’s seen it a lot.

“...Sure, sweetheart.”

Dani beams.

They make it to the edge of the state just as the rain starts to pour down. The mom is still looking for Danny by the time Dani points them into a gas station, but Danny’s not here; Dani made him up long enough to get a ride as far as she thought she could get tonight. The mom is still peering through the gloom of the driver’s side window as Dani turns herself transparent and flies out and away.

The mom was nice. The baby was nice. Dani liked this ride.

She walks, intangible, through the rain. The highway is dark, and wet, but Dani’s optimistic; sometimes people feel bad for her, so she gets more rides in a thunderstorm than on a sunny day. After an hour, somewhere on a rural road she’s never seen nor heard of before, Dani sticks her thumb out for a low little car going exactly the speed limit.

The car has a little old couple in the front and passenger seat. They look like grandparents. The grandpa rolls down his window, white eyebrows pushed together. “You need a ride, honey?”

Dani grins.

[ri-afan]

I had the sudden image of Danny putting a doormat under his window for the vigilantes that just says ‘other door, moron’.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #lol #op #obviously the cartoon wouldn’t care about the shoes off at the door rule #but Danny is midwestern and it’s now a rule in his house even if it wasn’t growing up #fucking sewer water roof dirt and blood is a bitch to get out of the carpets #he’s glad he can just go intangible and shed it off himself but others? #ugh 😑

[ri-afan]

new ship dynamic called schrodinger’s divorce where characters are simultaneously bitterly divorced and fondly married for twenty years

[ri-afan]

Dead on main au where

1. Danny wears a 1/2 face mask as a ghost to make sure his parents don’t find out who he is

2. The decision to start wearing the mask was a spontaneous thing that happened at school and he stole the mask from his high school’s theater department

3. Danny moves to Gotham as soon as he turns 18 on a scholarship but it doesn’t include dorm fees.

4. Danny hides out in an abandoned theater (the attic is surprisingly well insulated!!!!) and spends most of his time there as a ghost because he can’t anywhere else in Gotham.

5. An injured Red hood limps his way into one of his favorite old hideouts (the theater obviously), and promptly passes out from blood loss with the hazy image of a masked glowing spector as the last thing he sees.

6. He wakes up enough to hear soft reassurances of safety and feel cool hands carry him with no noticeable strain.

7. Jason comes to in a giant nest of blankets with his wound neatly stitched up, a killer headache, and a sticky note wishing him well/ promising the writer didn’t leak under the helmet (a fact Jason is well aware of considering his head is very much unexploded)

8. Jason tries to leave but he passes out again and is honestly too tired to try again when he comes back around. So he just…falls asleep.

9. Jason wakes up again to warm food on an old silver tray and an empty room, not knowing Danny is watching him from the corner to make sure he doesn’t fall again. Not that Danny wouldn’t catch him again, but he’d prefer it didn’t happen at all.

In short, Danny plays elusive nurse to the dangerous red hood while Jason sees a literal ghost that lives in an abandoned theater wearing a phantom of the opera mask and decides he’s found a keeper. Clearly he appreciates the drama.

[ri-afan]

*emerges from the other room covered in blood* you should see the word document

[ri-afan]

BECAUSE THE ROOM WAS TOO SMALL

BECAUSE THE FOREST WAS TOO SMALL

BECAUSE THE GARBAGE DUMP WAS TOO SMALL

BECAUSE THE TABLE WAS TOO SMALL

🧍‍♂️ 👬 🧍‍♂️

[ri-afan]

Y'all, the world is sleeping on what NASA just pulled off with Voyager 1

The probe has been sending gibberish science data back to Earth, and scientists feared it was just the probe finally dying. You know, after working for 50 GODDAMN YEARS and LEAVING THE GODDAMN SOLAR SYSTEM and STILL CHURNING OUT GODDAMN DATA.

So they analyzed the gibberish and realized that in it was a total readout of EVERYTHING ON THE PROBE. Data, the programming, hardware specs and status, everything. They realized that one of the chips was malfunctioning.

So what do you do when your probe is 22 Billion km away and needs a fix? Why, you just REPROGRAM THAT ENTIRE GODDAMN THING. Told it to avoid the bad chip, store the data elsewhere.

Sent the new code on April 18th. Got a response on April 20th - yeah, it's so far away that it took that long just to transmit.

And the probe is working again.

From a programmer's perspective, that may be the most fucking impressive thing I have ever heard.

[ri-afan]

the gifs i find on this website... you guys are art curators

[ri-afan]

This artist makes one of my favorite Twiyor illustrations.

Here's the credit:

[ri-afan]

[ri-afan]

Ugh... that fine line between art and service that I walk as a photographer certainly is making the impostor syndrome go haywire.