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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”

Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.

“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”

Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.

“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”

Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.

“Um… for the aesthetic?”

Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.

“You- you can’t stop me!”

And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.

He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.

He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.

Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.

“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”

Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.

“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.

“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”

“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.

“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”

“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”

“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.

“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”

“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”

Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.

He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.

“There!”

Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.

Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.

“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.

Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”

Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.

——

Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.

Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).

Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.

“B, I wanna go home.”

“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.

Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.

Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.

——

Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.

He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.

——

Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water

Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*

——

Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity

Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:

——

Dick as Robin: *cackles*

Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*

Gotham Criminals: *fear*

#danny phantom #bamf danny phantom #dick grayson #tim drake is a menace #tim drake #baby tim drake #Tim Drake is a little shit #Danny Phantom is a little shit #they’re messing with the bats #and getting away with it #inspired by dick’s iconic Robin cackle #that creepy lil shit #i love them your honor #they’re brothers your honor #Gotham’s F grade tap water #thanks scarecrow #Gotham’s tap water #dc x dp #dp x dc

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tookio · 7 months

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░ ۪۪۫۫ᤢ 🌸 🫙 muñeca delicada

#sulli moodboard #jinri moodboard #kpop #f(x) moodboard #messy moodboard #aesthetic moodboard #random moodboard #vintage moodboard #soft moodboard #kpop icons #kpop moodboard #coquette moodboard #indie moodboard #grunge moodboard #alternative moodboard #fx moodboard #sulli icons

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inniie · 2 months

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀#⃞♰❤︎⠀⠀꠹꣓ᭂ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Slowly falling

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artsyeoll · 5 months

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Don't Give A Dawn ◌⠀❀ִ 💠 ׄ✟ུ

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i04rei · 7 months

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Life is like a dream with you

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hcneyrq · 1 year

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. ◌ 𓂂 ﾟ∗ ($) . ❊ ༚ . °ִ 𓇼 ₊ ˙ ◌

✧ 。◜ 𝟹𝟹𝟹 ॱ ꢀ ॰ ♡ ॰ ꢀ ॱ 𓇼 ◦ 。৲

#kpop icons #messy moodboard #messy icons #ggroup kpop #random messy icons #kpop lq icons #random messy locs #kpop moodboard #random icons #kpop messy icons #kpop layouts #kai exo #jongin icons #krystal f(x) icons #krystal icons #messy packs #film moodboard #random messy bios

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i6gyu · 6 months

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⠀⋆ ˚｡♡⋆ 'cause my love is mine, all mine ⋆♱ ˚｡⋆

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deftpnes · 11 months

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𓇼 ◦ 🐚 ⁕ 𓆟 𓆞 💿

#sulli moodboard #sulli icons #sulli #messy icons #messy moodboard #messy layouts #messy users #y2k moodboard #sulli layouts #messy headers #clean moodboard #coquette moodboard #ulzzang icons #aya takano #messy bios #edgy moodboard #moodboard #f(x) icons

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miumiu-s · 2 months

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MOTO　 ✙　PRINCESS

#🧊 &＃10209 Chronicles #krystal #f(x)#krystal icons #krystal moodboard #fx icons #fx moodboard #archive moodboard #alternative moodboard #aesthetic moodboard #blue moodboard #dark moodboard #edgy moodboard #coquette moodboard #gray moodboard #kpop moodboard #vintage moodboard

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slutir · 10 months

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☆ 〜 (ゝ。∂)

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doyoungr · 2 years

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turn my head into sound i don't know when i lay down on the ground

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ghouljams · 3 months

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Hello Ghoul! I'm absolutely in love with your regency Au! 🥺 What do you think of -

After a night of dancing together, Price visiting the reader and their family, maybe disguising it as having a little accident a cut or something (previously mentioned that readers father is a doctor) and seeing that reader is really hardworking, with helping and/or taking care of their father.

Awwww just like in the 1870's au Price can be a little reckless when he knows it means he'll see his darling.

You hear your father laughing from his clinic and push a roll of bandages away from the edge of the shelf you're inventorying. It's nice to hear him having fun with a patient. So many people come in with horrible afflictions, you know it takes a toll on him. Your father's kindness is what made you want to go into medicine in the first place, he's leaving the world a better place, you'd like to do that too.

You wipe your hands on your apron and jot down your counts, making note of what you need to restock. There are a few tonics that you're running low on, one or two poultices that could use a refresh, and you're nearly out of the candied ginger your father is so fond of passing out to children complaining of stomach aches. You'll stop by the market later and see what you can find. You hear your name as you pass by the exam room and pause.

After a moment's thought you raise your hand to knock and are met by your father tugging the door open. He looks surprised to see you, but it only lasts a moment before he's smiling.

"Ducky!" He greets, "You have a patient." You blink at him. You don't get patients, as far as the people who come in are concerned you're a glorified nurse and not a physician's apprentice. Still, hearing him say that makes you giddy, joy bubbling in your chest like champagne. Your father squeezes your shoulders, a look in his eyes that you recognize immediately as pride. You do your best to look professional as you step out of the way and take his place in the exam room.

Price gives you a friendly wave as your father closes the door behind you. His smile is tight, pained, but warm. He's holding his arm close to his chest, and you focus on that instead of the way he asks, "Ducky?"

"A nickname," You tell him, moving closer to inspect his arm. Your fingers hover over him, and you glance at his face. "May I?"

"You're the doctor," He smiles, something in the way he says it makes emotion swell in your chest. You're the doctor, try to keep the smile off your face. He barely flinches when you prod at his wrist, feel over the length of his forearm, checking for breaks and sprains, then up to the elbow. He flexes when you touch his bicep and hisses out a curse, you smile to yourself.

"Try to stay still," You remind him, feeling past it for his shoulder. The pained groan he hums out is indication enough but you still give a quiet apology and test his range of motion. It doesn't take a doctor to tell he's dislocated his shoulder not when it sticks at that angle. You let him cradle his arm close again and go to find a sling for him. "How'd this happen?" You ask over your shoulder.

"Military exercise," He responds quickly, too quickly, "How'd you get the nickname?"

"Used to call my dad 'duck' because that's what everyone else called him." You hum, pulling a length of cotton cloth from one of the shelves against the wall, "They were calling him 'doc' but my mum says I was a little too excited when he started calling me that too, so the nickname stuck."

"Cute."

You shake your head and turn back to him, "Me or the story?"

"You," He doesn't flinch at that either. You think a man like John Price doesn't flinch for much, doesn't hesitate either.

"I'm going to be a lot less cute when I set that shoulder," You move closer and, as if on instinct, Price reaches for you. His good arm grabs for your hip, and you deposit the sling into his grasp. His fingers tighten around the cloth immediately, more easily swayed than you'd expected. You suppose the threat of oncoming pain would make anyone docile. "Lie back on the table," You direct him. He's already sat on the edge of it, so it's an easy move.

You help him lay his arm out straight, holding onto his wrist as you stand beside him. The last thing you want to do is further injure this man, but you can't do anything for the pain you're about to cause him. The only thing you can do is try to make it fast. Holding his wrist tight with both hands, you move his arm up and down, circling the joint slowly. You work his arm from rest to shoulder height, doing your best not to grit your teeth in sympathy at the next part; rotating his arm up over his head until the joint pops back into place. You've heard men shout when your father does this, the crack of bone slotting into position always signals the sharpest pain. Price only growls, low and displeased in the back of his throat, his eyes closed to the pain as a crack rings through the room.

You're gentle bending his arm back down over his chest, let him stay laying where he is while you take the cotton cloth from him and fashion him a sling. You tie it behind his neck, watching the rise and fall of his chest, admiring the curve of his mouth while his eyes are still closed. He grabs your wrist with his uninjured hand when you try to pull away, quick enough you don't have time to react. You look from his hand to his eyes, held in place by his gaze more than his grip.

"What happened to your arm Captain?" You ask again, though your voice feels softer, and you wet your lips when he doesn't immediately answer. His eyes leave yours only to follow the path of your tongue. His thumb rubs against the back of your hand, skin against skin. You don't wear gloves when you're working.

"You're beautiful," He answers so truthfully you feel heat pop across your cheeks like suddenly standing too close to a fire. He doesn't seem delirious, quite the opposite, his eyes are clear and his demeanor hasn't changed. He doesn't 'remember himself' or make any apologies for the remark when he answers you, again, "I wanted a reason to see you."

"You couldn't have waited for the next party?" You feel softer still, coaxed by the gentle swipe of his thumb, the insistent rub of his skin against yours. Improper, and lovely. He smiles, properly, in the way the makes his eyes crease.

"It wouldn't have been proper for you to set my arm at a party."