Listen, If I Had The Time I Would Just Make Justice Leauge The Mockumentary, Lol.

Perfect Disaster

Dick loved Jazz. He really did. She was incredible—strong, smart, funny, and probably the only person on Earth who could keep up with him in a spar without wanting to throttle him. She got his jokes, finished his sentences, and punched him in the arm whenever he got too smug.

They were supposed to be perfect for each other.

So why was he in love with Dan?

Why had his wedding day been filled with flashes of ice-blue eyes and a voice that always sounded just a little too unimpressed?

Why did his stomach drop every time he thought about Dan looking at him with something almost like affection, only to turn away like it had never been there?

It was driving him insane.

And Jazz—God, poor Jazz. She was so good, so devoted, so present, and Dick? Dick was the worst husband alive.

He’d caught himself zoning out during dinner last week, staring at his fork like it was the most interesting thing in the world, because Jazz had mentioned something in passing, and his brain had gone straight to how Dan would never say something like that. Dan doesn’t talk that much. Dan doesn’t talk at all unless he had to.

Jazz deserved better. She deserved someone who wasn’t actively fantasizing about her brother at the worst possible moments.

And worst of all?

She had no idea.

He was a such horrible person

Jazz was losing her mind.

She was in love with her husband. She knew she was. Dick was amazing—bright and loud and brilliant, always moving, always there. He made her laugh, he made her feel seen, he made life fun.

So why was Jason the one she thought about late at night?

Why was it his voice that echoed in her head when she had a bad day? Why did she find herself catching her breath when he smiled, when he laughed, when he looked at her like she was something worth knowing?

It was awful. It was disgusting. It was—

It was fine. She’d bury it. She’d ignore it.

Dick loved her. She loved Dick. Everything was fine.

Except…

Except Dick had been distracted lately. Not in the normal “up all night on patrol” way. No, this was different.

He was off.

He’d started spacing out in the middle of conversations, looking guilty when she caught him. He’d smile too wide, laugh too loud, cover up whatever he was thinking with that performance of his, but Jazz knew him too well.

Something was wrong.

She wanted to ask, but she didn’t. Because if she asked, maybe he’d ask back. Maybe he’d say why are you acting weird too? Why do you freeze when Jason calls? Why do you look at him like—

No. No, she wasn’t going to think about that.

Everything was fine.

Things got worse.

Dick started overcompensating.

Big romantic gestures, flowers, expensive dinners, soft kisses on her forehead, murmured I love yous like he was trying to convince himself they were real.

Jazz responded in kind.

Lingering touches, doting smiles, playing the role of the perfect wife because God help her, she was going to make this work.

And in their desperate attempts to fix a problem neither of them had named, they didn’t notice what was happening right in front of them.

Didn’t notice the way Dick’s eyes always strayed when Dan was in the room, how his voice softened just slightly when they spoke.

Didn’t notice the way Jazz’s breath hitched when Jason laughed, how she leaned in just a little too much when he talked to her.

Didn’t notice that they were both drowning, clinging to each other in a sinking ship, hoping that if they just held on tight enough, they wouldn’t go under.

And it was only a matter of time before the whole thing collapsed.

It all came crashing down over brunch.

Dick had been jittery all morning, bouncing his leg under the table, stirring his coffee five times before taking a sip. Jazz had been the same, shoveling food into her mouth like it might stop her from blurting out something catastrophic.

They were a mess. A mutual, collective disaster.

And then—

"Jazz, I—"

"Dick, I—"

They both stopped, blinking at each other. Jazz swallowed, setting her fork down.

"You first," she said, voice tight.

Dick inhaled sharply. This was it. This was the moment he ruined everything.

"I'm—" He scrubbed a hand through his hair, bracing himself for impact. "I'm in love with someone else."

Silence.

A long, heavy, horrifying silence.

And then—

"Oh thank God," Jazz blurted out, nearly knocking her coffee over.

Dick blinked. "What?"

"I'm in love with someone else too," she said, her shoulders sagging like someone had finally lifted a hundred-pound weight off her back. "Oh my God, Dick, I thought I was the worst person alive, I was so scared to tell you—"

"You were scared?" Dick let out a laugh, giddy with relief. "Jazz, I have been dying inside for months. I was ready to take this to my grave!"

"Me too! I literally almost repressed myself into a coma!"

"Jesus Christ," Dick groaned, pressing his forehead to the table. "I thought I was going to break your heart."

"I thought I was going to break yours!"

They both sat there, laughing, light-headed, free.

A moment passed before Jazz smirked, leaning forward. "So. Who is it?"

Dick hesitated. And then, because there was no point in lying anymore—

"Dan."

Jazz's smirk vanished. Her eyes widened. "Wait—my Dan?"

"Uh." Dick winced. "Yeah?"

She blinked. Then blinked again. Then—

"Oh my God."

"What?"

"Oh my God, how could we not see it before?" she muttered, rubbing her temples.

Dick frowned. "Wait. See what? What does that mean?"

Jazz took a deep breath, and then—

"I'm in love with Jason."

It took a second for that to register.

Then—

"MY Jason?!"

Jazz shrugged, unapologetic. "Apparently."

Dick gawked at her. "No way."

"Yes Way."

"Oh my God."

"Right?!"

For a long, long moment, they just stared at each other.

And then—

They started laughing.

Deep, gut-wrenching, gasping-for-air laughing. The kind that hurt. The kind that felt like they were unraveling years of tension in one go.

"How did we not notice?" Jazz wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I have no idea!" Dick gasped. "I was so busy feeling guilty, I didn’t even think to ask why you kept getting all weird around Jason!"

"And I was so caught up in my own disaster," Jazz snorted, "I didn’t even see you staring at Dan like he personally invented the concept of breathing!"

They both dissolved into laughter again, until finally, finally, the weight of the past few months lifted completely.

Jazz leaned back in her chair, still chuckling. "So. What do we do now?"

Dick hummed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Well. We could get a divorce."

"Obviously."

"And then we could—y'know. Maybe—try something else?"

Jazz smirked. "Are you asking me if we should ask each other's brothers out?"

Dick grinned. "I mean. I feel like we kinda have to at this point."

Jazz snorted. "God, we are such disasters."

"Yeah," Dick agreed, still grinning.

They clinked their coffee mugs together like it was a toast and for the first time in a while didnt feel the overwhelming weight of lying to your patner.

Somewhat Inspired by EDA's beautiful art, Thank you, @demonic0angel , for being so ridiculously creative and talented that I can’t even sit back and enjoy your work in peace.

No, instead, you had to go and make me feel creative too, and now I have the unbearable urge to post things. I hope you’re proud of yourself.

I am spoiled, this fact is confirmed to me today, I literally ate out of my mom's hand, first of all, to clear things up a bit, I don't know how to eat crab, I understand what to do I guess, but I can't do it, we don't eat crab often so there's not that much need. The thing is that my mom made seafood soup, which was really good by the way, and she saw that I had the crab untouched, she asked me why and I told her I didn't know how to open it, well, did I learn how to open a crab? Not really, I just learned how to get the meat out of the claw. And I found a funny bone in my soup, its texture is really funny, like plastic I think, I cleaned it well and I'm keeping it.

I’ve spent the past few months attempting to figure out a framework for Ghost Physics in the Danny Phantom universe? Enjoy my crazed scribblings.

Cliff notes version: The Ghost Zone is our dimension’s 4D “atmosphere,” absorbing harmful trans-dimensional radiation. Ghosts are made of the Ghost Zone’s version of matter, called ectoplasm, a substance capable of 4D motion (video explanation of that), “toggling” how physical forces (esp. electromagnetism and gravity) interact with it, and storing huge amounts of energy. A ghost’s unique nervous system and encoded body plan (the ecto-signature) remains in the upper energy levels of the Ghost Zone at all times, remotely controlling their body. Danny can chemically change his body between ectoplasm and regular matter, and has both a normal physical brain and an ecto-signature.

A Literal Essay:

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Why is there no man arching his back with his butt in the air emoji

I know the fandom had named Valerie's ghost hunters identity "Red Huntress" (and I fucking love that name, don't get me wrong, it's rad as hell) but I had a thought about a potential other name she might have ended up with.

Specifically I'm imagining Danny giving her a hero name completely by accident.

Like, they're fighting a ghost together. It's low stakes, more just a bit of fun before they go grab a shake at the Nasty Burger or something. Neither of them are on edge or really thinking, this is basically just a quick chore they have to take care of before they can hang out. They've been joking and throwing banter back and forth, all that fun stuff.

And it's so chill and low stakes that Danny, in typical Danny fashion, isn't really thinking.

He's about to do something to show off or make a terrible pun or something and wants to make sure she's paying attention and goes to shout to her.

But uh... he uh... he forgot until he's already got the "Val" part out that she also has a secret identity and at this point watching them fight ghosts is a pass time for the people of Amity Park so they have a pretty big audience. One that includes the news.

So, now panicking, Danny tries to cover the only way he knows how:

He Puns it out.

And so, Amity Park's ghost hunting hero Valkyrie is named.

If we want to double down on Danny's "Hero identity name is just a slight change to his civilian name she could be Valkyrie Red (in place of Valerie Gray) though I think Red Valkyrie flows a little better lol

The Blob

Dpxdc Prompt #20

Danny is a blob ghost now and he's fine with that.

Turns out all blob ghosts are just regular ghosts who have expended to much energy and turn into balls of pure ectoplasm and emotion to recharge.

It's honestly a much needed and much appreciated vacation from all of his responsibilities.

He doesn't understand why he's getting so many worship-fear-cowed emotions from these people, but he's a blob right now, he doesn't have to care.

There's one boy that constantly projects awed-love-infatuated towards him. Danny likes him a lot more than all of the other guys.

In the mean time, Ra's Al Ghul has just found what he believes to be the conscious personification of the Lazarus Pits and there is no way he is going to let any of his assassins offend it. If only he didn't have to worry about his grandson being so enamored with the being as well.

Grandfather never let Damian have any pets.

"Distractions," he would say, "Unnecessary attachments."

Damian disagreed, but he was smart enough not to voice his belief. The Demon Head's word is law and he bows to nobody.

Or at least... nobody until the little blob of sentient Lazarus Water.

Grandfather says that it must be the pits personified and therefore needed to be treated with respect so there would be no chance of them being taken away.

Damian has no problem following this rule, he finds the little blob cute, like the pet Damian would never get to have. When nobody's watching he pets the blob, tells it stories about his day, and stays silent as it does happy little purrs.

In the hell that is Nanba Parbat, the blob is a bright spot in Damian's days.

So obviously when he leaves to meet his Father and claim his right as heir to the Cowl he slips the blob into his go-bag. No one will notice, the blob normally floats around as it wishes, sometimes going missing for hours.

By the time Grandfather realizes the blob has been away too long for it to have been without intervention it will have been too late. No one will suspect that Damian took the blob with him.

At least, that's what Damian tells himself to justify taking the little guy with him. He is comforted by the low hum in his bag, the blob is happy, if no one else.

Waylon Jones finds Danny hiding in the sewers

Waylon was used to people seeing him as a monster. He had been called a freak or a monster since childhood, with people sneering at him and looking down on him for what he looked like.

Waylon could count on one hand the number of people who treated him like a normal person. Grundy was one. Roy was another. Harley treated him fine.

Danny was the first time someone had seen him and not even reacted. Danny just shared his food with him, smiling at him and chatting about random things. He didn’t mind Waylon’s scales or the sharp teeth. He just accepted it.

Danny saw him for him.

So when Danny, with bright green eyes and his hood finally down and showcasing the pale pointed ears and green blush, admitted why he was down in the sewers? When the small boy traced a hand over surgical scars Waylon had never seen before as he whispered about the group calling him a freak?

Well, Waylon had been seen as a monster for a long time.

Why not prove them right?

Used to it

Danny was quite desensitized to death by the time he finished High school. And he didn’t mean just ghosts. Despite his stellar record of preventing any deaths during his vigilante career, he still managed to see quite a few dead bodies. Though those usually weren’t in Amity but nearby towns.

Ghosts did need help sometimes to get peace and that often meant that he found their remains and anonymously sent in tips to the police. It’s this reason why when he planned to move to Gotham for College, and after checking out rent prices, he decided to do something that would only aid him in saving money.

He took a week during the summer between semesters and traveled to Gotham. After a few days of scouting (and staying in shitty hotels) he found the perfect place. An unused Mausoleum. It just needed a minor bit of renovation (like adding a bathroom) and it would be perfect.

He went to the library and searched to make sure he knew the information of whose building it was and if there were plans to use it soon. His luck was good and it was considered abandoned. He checked the price and winced. It would take a good chuck from his savings but overall it would save him quite a bit.

Deciding to save money after he bought it, he used ghosts with the right obsessions to reconstruct it. When he started living there he was somewhat surprised at how settled he felt. Turns out he somewhat accidentally made himself his own grave, which was good for his ghost half.

He didn’t realize that his coming and going from the graveyard would be noticed by the bats though. He doesn’t really want to have them digging into his life. He knows it will be hard but somehow he knows they will find something.

I love stuffed animals, and today I got a new one, it's a sheep one, I named him Olive, I adored him when I saw him, but i wasn't sure if I could have him, I hate getting emotionally attached to stuffed animals when i don't know if i could have them, he didn't have a price tag like others, and I hated the thought of maybe not getting him because of that, I felt like I was going to cry if that was the case, l'd much rather be told I couldn't have him than that he couldn't be sold because he didn't have a price tag, Olive is a grey sheep, and he's so cute, and soft! I didn't want any of his look-alikes, I wanted Olive, that's when I knew i got emotionally attached to him, luckily I was able to take Olive home, I'm going to love him so much.

Sketch Artist

Dpxdc Prompt #54

The GCPD has hired a new sketch artists, and as the Bats regularly hack their local police department's system, the Bats have noticed. He's a good artist, that's for certain, but there's something a little off about his sketches.

It's how they'll look almost exactly like the assailant when the witness could barely see them. In how the artist seems to know details that the victim wouldn't have remembered, or even seen, without trying. A mole, an eyebrow slit, pierced ears, undyed roots, things like that.

It's almost like Danny Fenton knows the criminals he's drawing, and that makes him suspicious.

——————————————————————————————————

Danny hadn't meant to get mixed up with the corrupt Gotham Police, but sometimes the starving artist stereo type is reality and helping identify criminals isn't the worst job in the world. Plus, its pretty obvious the local vigilantes get as much, if not more, use out of police resources than the GCPD themselves and Danny knows that vigilantes can use all the help they can get.

It didn't occur to him to use his powers to be more accurate until one of the first criminals he sketched got caught, and he didn't look too much like the drawing Danny had done. There were similarities, of course, but the details were lost in translation.

So the next time he was contacted to do a sketch he may have overshadowed the witness—only for a second—to take a glance at their memory of the assailant.

Suddenly his sketches became a lot more accurate.

He should have known that this would lead to the Bats investigating him, but he never could stop himself from helping.