Make pride accessible for everyone!!!!
I made a post about this last year and the year before, and thought if I did it this way it gives people and orgs something to work towards. Often people forget that disabled people aren't just wheelchair users, and even those who are, need more than just that ramp!
My first ever pride, not only as a wheelchair but my first ever EVER pride, I went in expecting to feel at home.
Obviously I wasn't, I'm disabled, so why should I?
Instead there was just a ridiculous amount of uneven flooring, a steep ramp to the disabled toilet, no sanitary towel bin in the disabled toilet (???) no allowances to be let out of the festival to fetch things from my car, no where quiet and organisers who seemed genuinely surprised to see a wheelchair user!
My next pride, three years later, I was a seller, and while they had sorted their toilet problem (still no sanitary towel bin???), the hill to get in wouod have been genuinely impossible for me to get to if I hadn't been driving to get my stall in anyway, even with someone pushing me, no quiet areas, plenty of kerbs for me to get stuck at and again, genuine surprise.
Why is it so surprising to consider disabled people might be at pride? Not only do queer disabled people exist, but parents and family of queer kids and people, vendors and even entertainers!
Making pride accessible is crucial!
ID available in Alt Text
A prompt I made in the Batpham discord a bit back. Thought it deserved some love here too.
First year of his reign and Danny is pulling up on anyone who feels like they should be dead with a wellness check survey. His goal is to catch them completely unaware so he’s in a spirit Halloween Angel costume, with a stethoscope, coke bottle glasses, and a giant fake mustache.
He goes through a whole medical checkup with tools he had Frostbite teach him how to “act” like he’s using, but all he actually needs is their shock from the beginning.
He's studying for the SAT, he's already been kidnapped by Vlad like, four times that week and it was a fucking Tuesday, he forgot his wallet at his new apartment, locked himself out of said new apartment (he could phase through the door but that wasn't the point), he's just been informed that the grant he applied for was denied so he needs to ask his mom and dad for college funds when he'd already told them he had it covered, and just...it was shit.
It had been shit. The entire week had been awful and annoying and he was ready to either murder everyone on the planet or go find a corner to cry in for the next three days.
So when the band of wild goons working for whatever villain of the week pulled up and tried to kidnap him, he snapped.
He used them to vent.
Shouted about how terrible his day had been, how terrible his week had been, how he'd already been kidnapped by his creepy godfather who was way too into him, how college funding was shit and the grant system was rigged, and how he'd have to call a locksmith or break down the door to his own apartment if he wanted to go to bed-all of it. He unloaded all of his frustration.
The goons actually backed off.
One of them gave him an awkward side hug and told him it'd get better.
Danny wasn't paying attention to his surrounding. He doesn't realize that the whole thing was livestreamed.
So when he gets home to his apartment later that day, his door is opened for him by the vigilante Spoiler before he can even turn intangible.
She brought over BatBurger and kidnapped Bruce Wayne, Gotham's bumbling Prince, to talk about college grants.
Dpxdc Prompt #22
There's a new weatherman in Gotham, only he seems to report on everything except for the weather.
—————————————————
"And for today's forecast we've got an Arkham breakout on our hands. Not to worry though! It's only Harley and Two-Face this time. Harley's currently dating Ivy so there may be some cuddle pollen spread around, but no psycho killer episodes!"
"If you live in Two-Face territory you may, as always, want to carry a rigged coin with you, but his escape seemed rather low-key. It's unlikely he's going to be trying anything soon."
"Bats to look out for tonight are the Dynamic Duo, Red Hood, and Batgirl. Nightwing's currently hanging out in our sister city of Bludhaven, Black Bat is still who knows where, Red Robin is not allowed to be patrolling for too many sleepless nights, and there's not enough crime tonight to pull Signal onto the nightshift."
"Make sure to watch the roads, because it seems Batgirl is still trying to drive the Batmobile whenever Batman is distracted. Other that the weather will be full of smog, dust, and clouds as always. Stay sharp Gotham, signing off—Danny Fenton, your weatherman."
Tim is going to tear out his hair.
Wait no, Tim isn't going to do that because that means smiley-enigmatic-weatherman Danny Fenton will win.
The new addition to the Gotham news team has been both a blessing and a curse for the Bats.
He almost never reports about the weather, not that there is much to report with it staying practically the same, or being affected by villain attacks rather than natural causes.
Fenton has decided that means he should report on villain attacks of the day. Which on it's own wouldn't be a problem, awareness of attacks saves lives.
No, the problem is he somehow has access to information not even the Bats have and reports on attacks before they happen. He also seems to have an acute knowledge of what's going on with the Bats everyday as well and it's driving Tim crazy.
Is he prophetic? Does he have an informant? Is he just somehow a better detective than the World's Greatest?
Fenton always keeps up the most goofy grin as he spouts information that he should not have access to and Tim is going to crack this case if it's the last thing he does. Its almost as if the weatherman is taunting Tim on purpose.
—————————————————
When Danny got a job offer for the news station in Gotham he decided to bring a little bit of home with him. He's also trying to see how quickly he can make one of the Bats go gray—or bald he's not picky.
He bets its gonna be Red Robin, the guy can't stand not knowing everything.
Started: 02/09/2025
Updated: 05/12/2025
I just don't want the thing I write to be flooded away.
Naruto
Series/Smut
Tales Amongst the Wind (OCs)
DPXDC
Accidental Dad Mentor Constantine Rogue Rater AU
Ride or Die and Beyond
Rocking the Joker
Respect to the Dead
Guns n' Robins
Masterlist A Little Love By You
Okay okay, but imagine if Danny just stalks Damian. Like, he has decided that he shall become this child’s unofficial guardian angel. Because Ancients know he needs it.
So, one time Damian and Jon are out and Jon wants to go to the Arcade but Damian just says something rude and then…
Danny: *whispering in Damian’s ear* You should be nicer to your friend
Damian: Huh?! *looks around, only to find nothing*
And that’s not all. Over time, Damian starts noticing how this strange presence as he calls it starts acting more and more. Whispering advice or words of encouragement in his ear (or just flat-out scoldings), making items he had misplaced magically appear back on his room the next day, protecting him from any surprise attacks any time he lowers his guard (which happens very rarely).
Heck, once he even brought him a starving kitten he saw once in an alleyway that he was planning to adopt anyway!
The Batfamily is aware of it. They refuse to do anything because they are far too amused. If anything, they give Damian a thumbs up and a “good luck" before sending him his way.
It all ends up becoming too much for Damian to tracks down Constantine and tells him;
Damian: I am being haunted. This annoying pest won’t leave me alone. Get rid of it, or else!
Danny: *whispering on his ear again with a Disappointment Mom voice* What did we talk about?
Damian: *sighs and cringes at the same time, before putting on a smile that looks more like a grimace* Please?
"I need your phone."
Tim looks up from his laptop. The boy in front of him looks like he's been dragged to Hell a week ago and just made it back: smudges of soot on his face, his not-so-white t-shirt smelling of smoke, and a nasty looking burn on his hand that he somehow doesn't even pay attention to. Tim thinks back to his mental list of 'Rogues currently on the loose', but it's only Ivy and Harley (who don't even count anymore), and Penguin, who is not known for setting things on fire.
"I can call 911 for you, if you want?" He offers, because this is still Gotham. Despite the fact that a slightly scorched guy casually walking into a coffee shop is not something out of the ordinary here, he's not giving his phone to strangers.
The guy grimaces and starts aggressively rummaging through his pockets.
"No, thanks, ACAB and all that, and they won't do shit here anyway," he says, and then pulls a handful of tangled golden jewelry — rings, chains, necklaces with various gems in them — from his pocket and places it on the table in front of Tim. "I need your phone," he repeats.
Tim stares. First, at the gold — these things look antique, and his parents were archeologists, he knows what he's talking about — then, back at the guy. He looks... ordinary, sans the dirt and smell.
But the burn on his hand looks significantly more healed than it did just a minute ago.
Thankfully, Tim has already had his cup of morning coffee. Which means he is thinking very rationally when he does get his phone out of his pocket and hands it to the guy, just to see what he does next.
"Thanks," the guy grins at him, plucking the phone out of Tim's hand and unlocking it. Tim's eyebrows shoot up — there's a password there! — but the stranger is already dialing in a number and pressing the phone to his ear.
It takes less than a second before someone evidently picks up, and the guy starts talking.
"I have less than three minutes before the phone dies, so listen very carefully. Etrigan is fine, Jason is not, Klarion is still being a bitch. Dora won't help anymore, so you're on your own until Sam makes it there with the staff. I'm in Gotham because, apparently, mazes and I don't mix well together, so if you could summon me back, that'd be cool," he says, a look of mild annoyance on his face.
Tim is back to staring at him. He recognizes some of the names, and, well, one could have been an oddity, two a coincidence, but three is a pattern.
"The fuck you mean you can't, I gave you the incantation two months ago!" The guy raises his voice, his foot tapping on the floor in frustration. "Do you think I just go around giving my summons to people for shits and giggles? Like, yeah, have a spell that unleashes a cosmic being of immeasurable power, use it as a bookmark!"
This interaction, despite Tim only hearing one side of it, gets more and more alarming with every word.
But then, the boy suddenly straightens up and stills, his eyes flashing bright, unpleasantly familiar green.
"You what?" He asks, his voice slipping from just angry to quietly enraged hiss, "Sold it to whom?!" But, before he gets an answer, Tim's phone makes a thin, tiny buzzing sound, and the guy takes it off his ear, looking at the screen.
"No, no-no-no," he mutters, shaking it like that would make it work. To no avail, though: the phone screen flashes a few times and goes black. The guy curses. At least Tim thinks it's a curse because he doesn't understand a word, but the stranger's face and intonation are telling.
"Useless fucking moron of a human, I swear I'm going to drown you in cow shit once this is over," he switches to English, dropping the phone on the table right by the small pile of gold, "I'll bargain your pathetic soul from everyone you've ever dealt with and give it to the Observants, and maybe, after a few millenia of endless Council paperwork, I'll have mercy and sell it back to Lucifer and watch him fry you on a skillet."
...Whoever the boy is, Tim absolutely refuses to ever piss him off, okay. That's an impressive threat to even make, not to mention being able to go through with it.
"Do you need help?" He asks cautiously. If he is getting his context clues right, this is something that involves JLD, and maybe John Constantine specifically since Tim doesn't know any other man who is a magic user, sold his soul numerous times, would care about Etrigan's wellbeing, and could invoke this kind of murderous intent.
The boy looks back at him, his eyes back to normal blue.
"Huh? Oh, no, I doubt this can be helped," he waves Tim off and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Sorry about the phone, but, unless you have a way to yeet me across the globe so I end up in London in the next twenty minutes..." he shrugs, smiling in that helpless 'nothing you can do here' way.
Tim picks up his phone. It's dead, wholly and completely, won't even turn on when he tries.
He really, really shouldn't do that. This is definitely none of his business, and very much out of his capabilities and area of expertise.
But he thinks about the zeta-tube in the Cave.
"Actually," he says, and the guy's eyes snap back to him, a bewildered sort of surprise on his face.
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.
Only cause I've been reading too many Demon Twin AUs.
Damian is trying his very best to keep his composure. He doesn't want to admit that his twin's final words about him never being able to change haunted him.
What matters is that he found him. They can be the family they were meant to be. He knew better than to expect flowers and a hug for this reunion.
But there it was. The same cold gaze that pierced through his soul time and time again. Only this time, it's on two bodies half his height. He couldn't even react before he was pepper sprayed and tased simultaneously.
He held onto the railing behind him for dear life. He barely makes out the door being shut, and the nearest voice cuts through his haze of anguish, yelling out, "MOM, HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED IS ON THE PORCH!"
The justice league was in disaray. They had failed to stop the summoning, and already the demon was stepping out of the portal. The last standing heros didn't have the manpower to stop a whole thrall army and the magic users certainly hadn't the power to deal with the demon himself. They needed a plan, or a miracle, or the earth was doomed.
Suddenly, Constantine braced himself, and strode right to the beast.
"Don't step further, or I'll have to call my dad."
The heros were baffled. The demon too.
"That's right," he was sweating bullets but he continued "I'm John Constantine and Phantom is my dad. He cares a lot about Earth. He will not take kindly your little invading stunt."
"Who is Phantom ?" wispered Flash to Zatana.
"I don't know."
The league didn't know if he was bluffing or not. Zatana had recently heard rumors about Constantine's father, but it was all vague, shrouded in secrecy.
The surprised past, the demon laught.
Constantine took a deep breath and reluctantly put out a piece of paper form his inner pocket. As he put it in fire with a spell, the cave they were in was breifly plunged in freezing cold and supernatural darkness. A thunderous ice crack resoned, that they could feel in their chest as much as they heard. The shadows sleethed into the form of a titanesque being, and suddenly big, bright, lazarus green eyes opened. And they didn't look happy.
He gulped.
"Hi dad."
"I know," the magician cringed, "I swear I have a good reason."
Now the being looked downright pissed.
"He wants to destroy the Earth !" defended Constantine almost petulantly, waving at the confused demon.
The green eyes looked at the demonic being, then the leaguers in various states of injuries, then the demon again. The demon didn't seem like he wanted to be here anymore. He was proved right when he received a monstruous fist in the face.
The entity grabbed him by an ankle, threw him back to hell, then slammed the portal shut as if it was a door. Constantine visibly relaxed.
"Thanks a lot."
"No. And I'm really sorry, I know it's late."
And just like that, he was gone. Wally had to sit down.
"What the fuck."
---
Hi everyone ! I was reminded of that post a while ago where Danny inherited of Connie's soul and decided it counts as adoption (can't find it now) and this is what came to my brain.
The lord of death isn’t confused, they’re CONCERNED!!!
Their whole business is killing people, it’s their creative outlet! Sure they have fun with it, but then they hear about people imploding in a tiny submarine by the titanic. All their best lil’guys are down in the deep!
The fuck you mean humans do stupid shit and can’t take care of their waste? What’s that gotta do with- ITS AFFECTING THE LIL’GUYS?! It’s getting into the water supply, don’t they need that to like… Oh, I don’t know, SURVIVE?! I’m supposed to kill you, not you killing yourselves?!
I need to speak to an expert on this.
So he kidnaps the princess who delegates public sanitation. Womp womp, they could’ve killed her and left the people to suffer but, not their little guys!!!
—
The princess in question is downright gobbsmacked. She may have blue screened while she was out to get her morning coffee when she realized she was having a pretty in-depth discussion about waste effect on the environment and populations with THE LORD OF DEATH in a skull hoodie and sweatpants.
Honestly, they pulled off the look and kinda look cut-
FOCUS
The person figure was so passionate about their rant that she hardly noticed reality shifted around them and they were at Lord Death’s base. But damn did they make a good cup of coffee and the brewer wasn’t bad to look at themself.
Oh god, she’s falling for their public enemy who wants to learn more ways to save the environment and promote clean spaces.
They could’ve killed her but they’re being just as passionate about sanitation as she is. God, don’t let her wake up from this dream.
“So let me get this straight. We’re here to rescue a princess.”
“That’s right.”
“At the request of a princess.”
“Right again.”
“And you, who will be leading the expedition, are also a princess.”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“How big is your royal family, again?“
“We don’t have one.”
“But–“
“We overthrew our monarchy centuries ago, but we kept most of the titles around. The rank of ‘princess’ is held by the directors in charge of various civil service branches.“
“Huh. And the princess we’re rescuing today is in charge of…?”
“Public sanitation.”
“The Lord of Death’s Dominion kidnapped your public sanitation director?”
“We think he’s a little confused.”
Reblogger/Writer/ArtistAvid supporter of gay chaosMy safe haven for the ideas my brain comes up with
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