#Even been getting ideas of how to draw them out too!

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Dp x Dc short idea

Jason is Danny’s dad

Warning: Language

Jason had just returned to the family publicly about two weeks ago. It hadn’t even been that long for him to settle before something happened. The press weren’t even off his ass and he has Alfred requesting he return home for an urgent matter immediately, which is butler speak for get your ass here right now!

The family was happy but adjusting to everything. They had mandatory family dinners at least twice a month and voluntarily got together more frequently, mostly just the siblings, but every once in a while Bruce would sneak in for a movie in the family room.

Alfred was pleased with the progress the family has made over the course of many years. It finally felt like everything was coming together and maybe settling down. He knew he thought that too soon when he answered the buzzer at the front gate. They weren’t expecting any visitors and looking at the video feed it was a young woman with hands on her hips glaring back at the camera. There were two large bags with her and surprisingly enough a young child playing in the grass just a short distance behind her.

“Wayne Residence, Alfred Pennyworth speaking, how may I assist you, ma’am?”

“Lettin’ me in for starters,” she says back with venom on her tongue.

“My apologies, but you do not have an appointment.”

She snorts, “Nah, but ya see, I saw that bastard on the news and thought I’d drop off what he gave me.”

To get her point across, she turns and looks back at the little boy not paying her any attention.

“Danny!” She snaps and he jerks his head to look at, who Alfred is assuming is, his mother. “Come here.”

He hops up at his own pace and dusts off the grass on his knees before trotting over. She leans down to angle the young boy away from the camera and pushing back his hair.

He couldn’t see it well before by the way the boy was positioned before, but Alfred could clearly see a prominent patch of white hair on the left lower section by his neck. Just like the white batch on Jason.

“You gonna let us in now?” She asks rudely.

Alfred has already determined he did not like this woman. He still buzzes them in. He contacts Jason immediately followed closely with Bruce.

Alfred then helps the two carry in the bags, while subtly checking for any weapons or explosives. Instead he finds things meant for a child.

He really didn’t like this woman.

Bruce is the first one to arrive down the stairs, pausing towards the bottom. He glances at Alfred and can see the displeasure in the butler’s eyes.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you.”

“Fuckin’ everyone knows who you are, Brucie Wayne,” she huffs with a roll of her eyes.

Bruce glances down at the very young child who is hearing the foul language. He couldn’t be more than five, and completely oblivious as the little boy runs a hand along the wall and looks around at everything. He particularly keeps going back to the shiny chandelier above their heads.

“Who might you be?” He asks the woman, coming back to her as she almost touches the vase on the entry table. She draws her hand back to fold her arms across her chest.

“Grace.”

The name seems ironic compared to her behavior.

“And how can I help you, Miss Grace?”

“Your thought-to-be-dead son left something of his. I’m here to return it.”

It took no detective to determine she was talking about the boy currently using the door frame to the sitting room as leverage to rock back and forth, holding on with his tiny hands. Bruce could see the splash of white among the dark hair from this angle.

Bruce hums.

“Is that so?”

“I’ve already contacted Master Jason. He should be arriving soon. Shall I prepare some refreshments in the drawing room?” Alfred informs.

“Thank you, Alfred. Right this way,” he says to Grace, directing her toward the left while pulling out his phone to ask Tim to prepare the proper equipment downstairs.

“Danny!” The woman calls with impatience. She glares at the little boy who calmly turns to look at her, then skips behind them.

Grace huffs but doesn’t say anything else as they enter the room. She sits herself in the middle of the love seat and Bruce takes one of the chairs across from her. The boy, Danny, explores the room thoroughly, walking around without pattern and investigating every nook and cabinet to keep himself entertained. Very curious little child.

Bruce tries to engage her in conversation to dig up more information, but she firmly wanted to wait for Jason before divulging anything. He did however find out that Danny is four and needs to be enrolled in kindergarten next turn. Grace works night shift but wouldn’t say where.

Alfred came with three waters, one in a smaller plastic cup for Danny, and a plate of crackers and cut up fruit.

Grace eyes the butler with a raised brow. However, the first words Danny has spoken in their presence is a cute, “Thank you, mister,” before munching on a cracker and sipping from his cup. His curious eyes flick over the fruit and wanders over to his mother who picks at a rip in her jeans. He taps her knee and she sighs.

“What is it?”

“What’s that?”

Danny points to the fruit.

“What’s what?”

He creeps forward to point directly at the blackberries mixed in with the blueberries and strawberries.

“Blackberry,” she answers shortly.

“What’s it taste like?”

“Why don’t you try it and find out?”

He must have approved of that suggestion and reaches in to clumsily wrap a tiny hand around one of the dark berries. He flips it over in his hand for a minute, observing it at all angles, feeling the texture of the little bumps, before shoving it in his mouth. Danny leans his body over the coffee table to drag the bowl closer and rummage through it for more goodies.

Really looking at him, Bruce could see Jason’s freckles and the few other similarities like his square jaw and lip shape. He hasn’t seen it yet but Bruce bets Danny has the same crooked grin as his son.

He has the woman’s pale complexion and nose shape. His hair was straight like hers instead of Jason’s curls, but Danny took his dark coloring compared to her light brunette.

The boy was an adorable mix of both his son and this woman. He almost felt the test was unnecessary, but he didn’t stop Alfred from replacing the plastic cup and take it back to the kitchen where he knew it would be handed off to Tim.

Thankfully it was a day where there weren’t any meetings for either of them to attend.

Surprisingly, it isn’t Jason that enters the room first, it’s Damian coming home from school. The fourteen year old, almost fifteen, holds a leash in one hand with Titus standing patiently next to him, ready for his after school walk.

“Father, I heard we have guests.”

The teen stops in the doorway and Danny turns with interest until he spots the animal, then his eyes bug with excitement.

“Mommy, doggie,” he whisper shouts.

She just hums in affirmative, looking the new arrival up and down.

Danny grabs a blackberry from the bowl and trots over to Damian. He holds out the piece of fruit.

“This is a blackberry,” he states proudly.

Damian blinks down at the small child. Titus tilts his head, his nose working hard.

“I’m aware.”

“You can have it, if you let me pet your doggie,” he negotiates like he needed to give something in order to receive permission.

Damian looks up to his father for answers.

“Jason will be here soon,” is what he gets instead, his father’s lips twitch.

Damian looks back down in sudden realization when he sees the similarities between the man and this boy. He sighs tiredly.

“Pennyworth. A wet washcloth if you please.”

“Right away, Master Damian.”

“Next time, you only need to ask to pet Titus, you do not need to give me anything in return,” he tells the child.

Danny looks down at the berry sitting in his stained hands.

“So you don’t want it?”

“…Maybe later.”

“Okay!”

Danny skips back to carefully set the berry off the side on the tray, as if to save it for Damian for later like he said. He jogs the short distance back to them.

“Can I pet your doggie now, please?”

Damian takes the washcloth Alfred hands him with a nod and crouches down to get level with the boy.

“We must wipe our hands first. We don’t want anything sticky in his fur,” he explains as he holds out the washcloth for Danny’s hands.

The four year old looks down at the stains to see what he means and then places his hands on the washcloth for Damian to get the juices off.

The teen then calmly explains how to properly approach a dog he does not know by letting Titus smell the back of his hand first and then to always stay calm and confident.

Titus, the gentle giant that he is, had no problems letting the tiny child pat him and run small fingers through his short fur. It was endearing to hear the giggles when Titus used his big nose to sniff at the child’s face and neck. Sitting down, Titus was taller than the child standing up, which would have been scary to some kids, but Danny seemed to love Titus instantly. The little boy easily telling the dog what a good boy he is even with the dog sitting there doing nothing.

“Titus needs his afternoon walk now,” Damian informs.

Titus stands at the word walk, clearly ready to go.

“Oh, okay.” Danny turns to the big dog to reach up and pat his head twice. “Bye-bye, Titus. Have a good walk.”

The two leave and Danny skips back over to hang over the arm of the love seat his mother sits in, typing on her phone.

“Mommy, did you see the doggie? His name is Titus. He’s a good dog.”

“Uh-huh,” she comments without really listening.

“Do you like dogs, Danny?” Bruce asks with a smile.

Danny looks at him like he forgot the man was there, tilts his head as he studies him for a moment. Bruce waits patiently until Danny deems him okay and perks back up with bright eyes.

“Uh-huh! I love dogs! Mommy says we can’t get one ‘cuz our ‘partment is too small and they’re dirty. You’s guys are lucky,” the boy rambles as he wanders around the coffee table to get closer to Bruce and away from his distracted mother.

“How do you feel about cats? Damian has a black and white one around here somewhere.”

Danny shrugs and they continue to have a rather pleasant conversation about different animals and foods and each of their houses. It takes up the amount of time for Jason to walk through the door, seemingly already informed of the situation from Alfred.

Jason was… flabbergasted. Bewildered. Caught unprepared. He was a lot of words. Mostly he was scared.

Did he really have a child? A son? If that was true then he missed so much. He missed all of his firsts. First words, first steps, first laugh, first everything.

Would the boy even like him? What if he saw all his scars and was scared of him? What if he didn’t want anything to do with Jason after not being in his life this whole time?

But the boy might not be his. There’s that. That could be… Jason didn’t like the disappointment that thought brought.

Grace was the first one he noticed. Her ripped jeans and low cut top being out of place among the antique furniture and Persian rug. She scowls at him, putting her phone down.

“Finally decided to show up?”

He bites back a comment. He broke several traffic laws to get here, it wasn’t his fault he was fourty minutes away at the time he got the call.

He glances over at Bruce and instead his eyes zero in on the child standing by the armchair Bruce was sitting in.

Just one look and he knew the boy was his.

He looks to Bruce anyway for confirmation, since he has no doubt he sent off a sample to Tim hiding like the troll he is in the basement. The man nods. Jason sucks in a deep breath and suddenly needs to sit down.

He sinks heavily in the matching armchair next to Bruce’s, separated only by a round end table. Jason can’t stop staring at those big, blue eyes that are filled with such curiosity and innocence he almost breaks down right then. But he can’t. He has to be strong. He can’t just walk away to get a handle on his emotions. He’s a dad now.

“You’re a hard man to find,” Grace folds her arms over her chest.

“I’ve been busy,” he answers lamely.

She humphs and looks away with a shake of her head.

The boy, Danny Alfred said his name was, creeps around Bruce’s legs to get closer, obviously seeing something in Jason enough to investigate. The room is quiet as they wait to see how Danny will react.

Coming to a stop right before his knees, Danny stares up at the large man with lots of scars and muscles from what he can see. He wasn’t scared. There was just something familiar that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He looks… he looks like… and he also feels almost like…

Furrowing his brows in a pout, he knows his Mommy doesn’t like it when he does it, but he still makes his eyes burn with green.

The man gasps and his eyes also swirl into an angry green.

“Daddy?” Danny asks with hope and joy.

Daddy swallows and then nods.

“Yea, buddy, I’m your dad.”

“Daddy!” The boy cheers, jumping in place with a wide smile. “Daddy! Mommy, look! It’s Daddy!”

Danny wastes no time climbing into the man’s lap and wrapping his arms around him as far as they’ll go (not very far) to press his ear to Jason’s chest over his heart. He’s practically vibrating with excitement and Jason makes sure to set a large hand on his back to hold him close.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” Grace hisses, her eyes wide at the display earlier. Both of their eyes had returned to their calmer blue and teal color, but everyone in the room saw it. “I knew he got it from you.”

His eyes narrow in warning, pulling the boy closer to his chest. He sets a hand over Danny’s exposed ear to protect him from the harsh words he’s probably already heard before.

“Do you have any idea how creepy it is to deal with a tantrum when your kid has fucking glowing green eyes?”

“Did you hit him?” Jason growls, the vibrations seeming to settle Danny even more.

“Please, I’m not my mother,” she dismisses with a sneer.

Could have fooled him.

“Everything was fine until he started doing freaky shit. I don’t know how to raise a meta kid, alright?”

“What are you talking about?”

Now he was just confused. What stuff was Danny doing that Grace thought he was a meta?

“Don’t try to pretend you don’t have powers too,” she points viciously.

“I’m not pretending. I don’t have powers. I don’t have the meta gene. What can he do?” He demands while being transparently clear.

She just glares back at him, obviously not believing him. That didn’t exactly matter at the moment.

“What can he do?” He repeats with emphasis.

She puckers her lips like she’s tasted something sour and then lifts her chin.

“Why doesn’t he just show you, huh? Danny- Would you stop babying him? Danny, show him the things you can do.”

After Jason takes the hand off the boy’s head, Danny turns to his mother warily.

“But you don’t like it,” he reminds, like she forgot.

“He wants to see it, so show him,” she waves a hand at Jason like he just asked for something he would regret.

Danny leans back to look up at his dad.

“You won’t get mad? Or scared?”

He sounds so unsure and scared. As if Jason could ever hate him. Jason really wants to punch something. Preferably something with her face on it.

“I promise I won’t.”

Another parent might have something more profound to say to reassure their child, but Jason was just starting out and honestly, it was more than Bruce would ever say.

Danny thinks for a second before wiggling to get down. He looks back once more at his mother who gives him a ‘get on with it’ motion.

The boy fidgets a little before covering his face with two hands like he’s playing hide and seek, then- disappears. Jason jerks at watching his son blink out of sight like a Martian.

“Boo!” Danny pops back into view, exactly where he was standing before with his hands out like any child on Halloween.

Jason blinks and then starts laughing. This was karma. Danny could literally become invisible, something the Bats train to do for years.

“That was good, buddy,” Jason chuckles, ruffling the kid’s hair.

Danny hesitantly smiles back, a bit of hope and pride in those eyes.

“There’s more,” Grace interrupts, seemingly uneasy with how well Jason reacted.

“Yea?” Jason directs to Danny, his focus on his son.

Danny gives a shaky nod, glancing over worriedly at Bruce who is just silently watching. Jason could see the tension in his shoulders but also the intrigue.

The boy places a hand on the coffee table and focuses on his hand. It took a few minutes of concentration before Danny’s hand went through the table like he was just dunking his hand in a pool instead of through a solid object.

He pulls his hand out and they could see it be slightly translucent.

“That one’s harder to do when I want to,” Danny mumbles.

“You mean it mostly happens on accident?”

Danny nods.

“I drop a lot. And get stuck sometimes.”

Yea, Jason can see how that could be a problem. He can’t imagine how terrified Danny was the first time a body part got stuck in an immovable object. He really wishes he could have been there for him in his panic.

“The last thing is hard too. But I’ve been practicing. Watch!”

Danny jumps once, twice, and on the third time he lingers in the air, coming down slowly like someone in water or astronauts on the moon. Danny pushes off the ground a fourth time, this time floating steadily higher like gravity meant nothing to him.

Despite the kid obviously have done this before and enjoying it with his giggles, Jason stands under him in case he falls. And falls he does. Suddenly, like the strings being cut and gravity taking hold of him again, Danny plummets into Jason waiting arms. The boy grunts on impact and then smiled sheepishly up at his dad.

“Sorry, Daddy. I promise I’m doing better.”

“That’s okay, squirt. I’m glad I was here to catch you.”

Jason plops back into the chair with his child in his lap.

“Anything else up that sleeve of yours?” He teases but is equally as serious.

Danny shakes his head enough to make his hair fluff. Jason looks to Grace for confirmation and sees she is still recovering from Danny’s fall out of the air. How many times has she had to catch him? Or wasn’t able to catch him?

She clears her throat.

“I don’t know if it’s part of it, but he never gets sick. Never even had a cough.”

Children always get sick, that’s how they build immune systems. For Danny to have never gotten even a cold, Jason doesn’t know if it’s worrying or a good thing.

“Any allergies?” Is the first thing on his mind, thinking of what Alfred will need to know.

She shakes her head with a negative hum.

“In one of the bags is a folder with all of his documents. Birth certificate, immunizations, doctor visits. I also made a list of some favorite things and things he hates. It has foods on there too.”

That was… honestly more than he was expecting from her. But it also cements the fact that she intended to drop him off with him and then never see them again. She raised him for four years and she doesn’t even want visitation? Does she not understand there are legal documents she needs to sign to transfer custody properly?

“There are some things you need to sign, but it will take some time to get it sorted,” Bruce chimes in all business.

Long nails swipe through the air like signing her rights away was trivial.

“My phone number and address are on one of the documents. Just tell me when and where.”

She stands to leave and Jason can feel Danny tense up.

“Are we leaving?” He asks worriedly, climbing down from his seat on his dad’s lap. He didn’t want to go.

“You’re staying here. With your dad,” Grace says shortly, not once looking at the boy.

“Are you going home to get the rest of our stuff?”

“No. I’m going home. You’re staying here. End of story.”

Danny visibly thinks on that for a second then scampers after his mother as she leaves the room.

“Is it like Robbie where his mom lives in one ‘partment and his dad lives in a different one?”

Grace sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She’s clearly flustered and is showing it as irritation, but Jason can’t help but trail behind in case she says something that she shouldn’t.

“No, Danny, it’s not like Robbie. I- I am leaving you here and I’m not coming back, okay?”

Jason takes a step forward to draw her attention and send her a look that says ‘choose your words carefully, this is a conversation he will remember for a long time’.

“But- but why? Is it ‘cuz of my things? I’m sorry I scared you, Mommy. I didn’t mean to. I won’t do them again, promise.”

Jason grits his teeth at how desperate his son sounds, trying to keep his mother with him. Even making a promise he can’t keep.

Grace finally looks at her baby. Sees the turmoil and tears in his baby blue eyes. She gets down on her knees to get level and places her hands on his tiny shoulders.

“You will do them again and that’s not a bad thing. Your things are part of you. That’s okay. You’re not in any trouble. I just- I’m in over my head here, Danny. I can’t take care of you the way you should be taken care of, okay? But your dad can, I hope. So I’m leaving you here. With him.”

Danny’s lip wobbles and she has to restrain herself from not hugging him like she always does when he’s upset.

“Then- then you’ll visit, right? Like Chase’s grandma visits him?”

Why is this so hard?

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you’re gonna see me again. I’m sorry.”

Danny is silent for a while. He wipes his eyes and sniffs.

“Are you goin’ ‘way like Jamal’s dad?”

The ten year old in the same building as them lost his dad in a wrong place wrong time type situation. Jamal had told Danny his dad went away forever so he couldn’t see him again. Grace had told him that when people go away forever, they get put among the stars he loves so much to be remembered.

Grace wears such a pained expression Jason half thought she was about to burst into tears.

“Kinda,” she nods. “So give me a big hug, okay?”

Danny was in her arms before she finished speaking. Jason didn’t exactly know why she wanted to stop all contact, but he had a theory that if Danny really was a meta (and with his powers he was leaning toward believing it) then Grace would want to distance herself as much as possible to protect them both. He met her in Crime Alley, he knew they didn’t live in a good spot. If any one of those crooks saw Danny use any of his powers, they could steal him easily from his single mother. She didn’t want to give those kind of people leverage to get Danny and sell him off. She wasn’t trying to be cruel, she was just trying to do what was best for her kid, even if that meant cutting her out of his life.

He had a strange new respect for her he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Grace takes a heavy breath and pulls away showing Danny’s tear stained cheeks. She wipes them like it would do anything.

“I gotta go now, Danny.”

“No,” he cries and Jason’s heart breaks a little more.

“We gotta say goodbye now. Please.”

Grace is just barely hanging on. Jason knows as soon as she walks out that door she’ll break down.

“I don’t want to. Don’t want you to leave,” Danny whines, trying to keep a strong grip on his mother.

She holds his hands in hers and gives him a serious look.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re gonna be just fine with your dad.” She leans in and whispers, “You’re not alone, Danny. You are never alone. Just look up. Look at the stars, baby, and you’ll be okay.”

Danny pouts, but thinks about those words.

“I like the stars,” he mumbles.

She smiles, probably the first one in a while.

“I know you do.”

She kisses his forehead one last time and stands. Danny whines. She steps away.

“Bye-bye, Danny. I- I love you.”

“Mommy,” he cries, tears and snot coming full force now.

Jason can’t take anymore and picks up his son to hold on his hip.

“It’s okay, buddy. I got you,” he assures. He turns to Grace who is having the internal battle of her life in the foyer. “I got him.”

It’s an assurance to her too, that he will take care of Danny, that he would be there for him. It was a promise.

Grace sees it for what it is and leaves out the front door without another word.

Danny screams and cries and struggles, but Jason holds on tight, scared he’ll fall or use his powers to get away and disappear. The man walks back to the drawing room so his son wasn’t staring at the door longingly.

As soon as Jason sits down, Danny struggles harder since they stopped moving. So Jason stands again, adjusting the boy in his arms and starts pacing a path around the room.

Bruce has already disappeared, not knowing what to do with a heartbroken child crying his eyes out. Alfred has cleared away the tray of snacks, leaving two waters on the table, one in a small, plastic cup. Jason spies Damian poke his head in for a second to see what the matter was, and upon seeing no immediate threat went off wherever. Other than that, father and son were alone to figure themselves out.

Danny was going through a lot for a toddler and Jason didn’t exactly know how to handle what happened either. He tried his best with speaking reassurances into the boy’s hair, but he didn’t know if Danny even heard him over his own crying.

It was a rough first meeting to be frank, but after a while (what felt like ages) Danny cried himself to sleep and Jason felt it safe to finally sprawl out on the loveseat with the boy laying on his chest. Compared to a grueling patrol, that was definitely worse. He never wanted to have to go through that again, but knew as a dad it was part of the job description.

[stump-not-found]

we're getting into the cover compositions that start falling apart ! i really adore stan and mabel being outside the frame, bringing in the purple from step V, and the green from step IV . playing with visuals is neat ! drawing those pictures was less neat !

this was the hardest chapter to wrte and sat unfinished for WEEKS . chapter seven wasn't even going to exist, but six got so long i had to split it up . it was wild . for a long time i had no idea what they were even gonna be doing on this planet . there used to be a, like, fortress they needed to break into ?

the family splitting up was always part of the plan, but originally it was because there was a large gate they needed to get through, and ford was gonna go alone until dipper volunteered to go with him . that was back when i was gonna try and have ford persuade dipper into being his apprentice, like he did in the show, because it was weird in the show too . but that sucked and slowed the whole pace down . i much prefer the rift getting escalated for emotional reasons .

was a challenge re enforcing a lot of fords abilities, along with introducing the journal, and trying to find a way to make it entertaining . i really love the response to ford, and one of my favorite things writing him is the way he describes things in the stupidest terms . like the shampoo & conditioner comment . the 30 second audio clips bit makes me think of those shitty cheap plastic toys you'd buy at claire's, where you get like, one minute of an nsync song . i think mabel would have loved those honestly

originally ford was also way more of a dick about mabel, specifically, but i realized i hate that a bit and really tried to punch up how sweet he is on the kids . i'm glad i did that, because i think its a lot stronger narratively that the dude has no ill thoughts towards the kids - dipper's attitude is just him listening, absorbing, and projecting in a way that helps him regain some control over his home situation

lots to say about the kids and their deal, though that could be its own separate thing . i'll just say it went under a lot of revisions, and had a lot of conversations about it . my goal was to have some pushback on the idea that mabel is this emotionally enlightened bastion of truth . god i have a lot i could rant on this point, but i really want to get across it's not a good thing when your 12 yr old niece tries to give you a therapy session . like . that's a bad thing, overall, to be quite honest .

dipper's whole thing is just aaaaaaaaaaaa it's hard to be trans in 2012 . well it's hard to be trans in general . dipper pines i love you i want you to know that you sweaty weirdo . you and your sister are gonna be just fine

it's fun that the kids become less of a background element once both adults in the room start to pay proper attention to them . as i write these chapters, i like to imagine that mabel and dipper are just having a regular ass gravity falls adventure, while the adults are having to walk down trauma lane lalalalal

oh fuck we also get the man in the hallway with his mystery pendant . did anyone see that guy the fuck was up with that . oh well i guess that's not important L O L

oh fuck this was also the professional working relationship chapter what the fuck ... i'm gonna be honest i laugh about that everytime .... the entire scene where bill starts counting his teeth almost got cut which would have been fucking stupid . yes i am referencing macdennis with them . yes ford does tell bill to smoke a cigarette to get rid of the toxins . that's how it SHOULD be . that's how a working relationship GOES

anyways ford and stanley's home life was fucked the fanfiction the movie . yay

bill is in everyone's hallway if you force the perspective enough:

favorite part:

“Dipper, there are… certain quirks of demon containment that are easier to let happen than argue about.” Ford says. Teeth counting is one of the top ones. Along with letting Bill clip his nails when they’ve grown out too long, or cut his hair when it gets too shaggy, or… actually, there’s a lot of things Bill will throw a fit about if Ford fights him over it. Though Ford supposes he has his own list as well, including forcing Bill to do regular blood checks, and have consistent meals with appropriate dietary restrictions. Dipper, clearly, doesn’t get it, and Ford acknowledges he is too young to understand a professional working relationship.

in case anyone was confused about there being anything romantic okay . please review the above paragraph it is VERY clear about the nature of their relationship, thank you

The family gets separated by some stupid metaphors, the kids have some normal and healthy conversations, and both Pines brothers handle the situation very, very well.

Everything's going just peachy, so long as you ignore all the problems.

[insidekatmind]

Christmas in Sharm el-Sheikh-Jude Bellingham

wearning:+18,smut

The scent of the Egyptian sea mixed with the sweet aroma of coconut and vanilla that you emanated every time you moved. The warm, light air caressed your skin, while the sun kissed every inch of your body. Sharm el-Sheikh was the perfect setting for your Christmas getaway, an oasis of peace away from the chaos of the world.

Jude watched you from the next deck, sunglasses lowered over his nose to admire you better. You wore a white bikini that stood out your golden skin from the sun, and every move you made seemed to be done to provoke it. His lips curled in a mischievous smile.

"If you keep moving like that, baby, I swear I’ll get you out of here," he said in that husky voice that made you melt every time.

You turned to him, the dark sunglasses concealed your eyes, but the smile you threw at him was more than eloquent.

"Take me away?" you taunted him, biting your lower lip slightly.

He leaned forward, taking off his sunglasses and staring at you with those dark eyes that had caught you from day one. He approached slowly, never taking his eyes off yours, and when he was close enough to make you feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, I whispered: "In a room where I can finally have you all to myself."

Your heart was beating hard in your chest. The electricity between you was palpable, and the sweet and sensual tension became more intense. With a smile of defiance, you rose from the deck and reached out to him.

"Then what are we waiting for, Bellingham?" you asked, tilting your head to the side with a provocative air.

Jude’s eyes were burning with desire. He seized your hand with a firm grasp and stood up, high and imposing before you. The people around him were gone. For him, it was just you.

You walked together to the resort, with him holding your hand as if he never wanted to let go. His fingers touched yours with a sweetness that contrasted with the intensity of his gaze.

When we got to the room, Jude closed the door with one foot and gently pushed you against the wall. He locked your face in his hands, thumbs touching your cheeks with infinite sweetness.

"Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment?" he muttered, moving his forehead closer to yours. "Since we booked these holidays. I couldn’t wait to be alone with you."

His words made you shiver. You wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you.

"What are you waiting for?" you whisper, challenging him with a smile.

Jude did not reply with words. He kissed you. It was a slow, deep kiss, full of emotion and desire held back for too long. His soft lips moved patiently on yours, as if he wanted to savor every second. His hands fell down your sides, caressing you with ease, taking all the time of the world.

His fingers stopped on your hips and squeezed them slightly, as if he wanted to imprint in memory every curve of your body. When he broke from your lips, his eyes were dark with desire.

"Do you have any idea how much you drive me crazy?" he whispered with his forehead still against yours, his voice low and hoarse.

You put on your toes, touching his ear with your lips.

"Show me, Jude," you answered with a whisper.

No need to repeat it. He took you in his arms with a fluid movement and carried you to bed. He laid you gently on the pillows, with the delicacy of someone who handles something precious. His eyes never left yours, not even for a second.

"You have no idea how much I want you," he muttered, his hands moving along your bare legs, caressing you with an exasperating slowness. "Every time I look at you, I wonder how I ever earned a girl like you."

"Maybe you earned it," you replied, trying to control the frantic heartbeat.

Jude laughed softly, that low and sexy laugh that made you crazy.

"If so, then I want to earn it every day," he said, stooping over you to steal another kiss.

Enter into you in one shot and groan. "fuck babydoll always so tight for me" groan to his words and raise your hips to take more. Feel his muscles tense against you and whine wanting to hear more.

"Jude don’t hold back and just please me" you murmured.

Jude moans at your words starting to fuck you faster. You could feel his body pressed against yours as he holds you against his body and you scratch his back asking for more.

Jude smiled enjoying your reaction and this thing only stimulates him and fucks you even faster. In the room of the tree you could only hear the sound of your wet skin, your deep breaths and his cock coming in and out of your wet pussy.

"Jude" you moaned as you clung more to his back. He grunts and pushes even faster.

"you look, do you like it? you like it when I fuck your brain and make you scream my name like a bitch in need,hm? Jude murmured and every thing he said increased his impulses, sending you ever closer to his deliverance.

"Yes daddy" you cry without realizing too drunk by his cock that was making you enjoy so much.

Jude moans at your words, feeling a surge of power and desire for how you were submitting to him. Start pushing even faster inside you that you didn’t even feel your pussy anymore, only the pleasure it was giving you.

"Damn you, baby, you’re gonna make me lose all control. I’ll give you whatever you want, baby. You’re gonna take my dick, you doll?" grunts as it pushes even harder inside you and you scream of pleasure nodding. "si daddy whatever you want".

Jude’s rhythm accelerates as he senses that you were very close. Your desperate cries feed his desire. He penetrates you ever more deeply, his body moves with a primordial retraction. You screamed loudly as you clenched closer to him.

"so beautiful Jude, give me more" beg him and he grunts. "yes darling, you want more,huh? you want it even stronger and faster? He said, pushing even more and you could feel the bed beneath you as it was moving.

"you’ll take everything I give you like the good girl that you are, yes?" he muttered increasing the pushes and you screamed more scratching his back.

Jude hearing your cries smiled loving the way you were giving yourself to him. It moves faster and stronger, giving you everything you ask for and more. He is lost in the moment watching you while he fucked you, consumed by the need to claim you and make you all his own.

"yeah baby, you’re so good for me. You’re taking it so good, aren’t you? you’re gonna take all I have to give you, right?" Jude groans to you and you whine at his words and nod as he scratches his back again.

He groans deeply as you cling to him with your nails that sink back into his back. The pain and pleasure that this action was giving him increased his need for Jude and was bringing him close to the limit.

"you darling, what a good girl you are for me" mumbles Jude exhilarated and you moan "only your daddy" you say crying of pleasure.

He feels a wave of possession overwhelm him at your words, the claim of ownership both pleasing and empowering. He looks into your eyes, his gaze becomes even more intense and darker.

"Damn right you’re mine, baby. Mine and only mine. No one else is gonna touch you like so. No one. You’re all mine, aren’t you?" He grunts as he puts his hand on your throat and keeps fucking you and you groan.

"All your daddy" you say moaning as you look at your boyfriend.

Hearing your confirmation of his submission feeds his need to fill you with your cum. Jude feels a surge of power and pleasure over you, loving the way you submit to him completely. It draws you more to itself, its voice is a possessive growl while it speaks to you at the horcrick.

"That’s right, baby. You’re all mine.My good,sweet,obedient,girl. You’re mine to touch, mine to claim, mine to protect and cherish. Mine, damn. All mine. Say it again" groans at his words.

"All your daddy. Nobody can compare to you" you mumbled.

Jude’s heart beats to your words, kisses you fiercely as his hands grip your hips while he slams faster inside you making you cum on his cock. After two more hits, Jude also reaches his climax and kisses you softly.

After he cleaned you up he took you in your arms and gave you sweet kisses all over your face.

The rest of the afternoon was spent between smothered laughter and sweet whispers, slow caresses and kisses that never seemed enough. The hours seemed to stop while you enjoyed each other’s presence, far from the world, as if time itself had decided to give you a break just for you two.

Later, as the sun set over the horizon and golden light filtered through the curtains of the room, you found yourself hugged, with his head resting on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around you.

"I don’t want it to end," he whispered against your skin, kissing your neck softly.

"It will never end, Jude," you replied, caressing his hair with your fingers. "Wherever we go, there’ll always be you and me."

He lifted himself slightly to look you in the eye, and you saw that spark of sweetness and love that he reserved only for you.

"I love you," he said, with a disarming sincerity that made your heart tighten.

"I love you too, Jude," you answered without hesitation.

He bowed down to kiss you again, more tenderly this time, as if he wanted to imprint in that kiss all he felt for you. And at that moment, it mattered neither the sea nor the sun nor the world outside of that room.

It was just the two of you, and that was all you needed.

[saphiccarma]

- The Red Means I Love You

Relationships - Mob Boss!WandaNat x Reader

Summary - You almost get killed again before some comfort with your girlfriends.

Warnings: Violence but nothing really

Pt.1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

The rifle was shoved firmly against your shoulder, the material pressed through your tactical suit. You twisted a nob, fixing the scope and letting it adjust properly before exhaling slowly. You had done this hundreds of times before. This was nothing.

Just another person to kill, another person to cross off the list that Natasha gave you. It was someone irrelevant. You had no idea who they were, or how important they were, but all that mattered was Natasha told you to do it. You didn't dig into their life at all - you soon learned that it only made things worse. Even as is, guilt throbbed in your stomach as you waited for your target to show themselves. The cement was hard from where you laid against it. Your shoulders ached from sitting out here all day.

Earmuffs quieted the world around you. The bustling of the streets as people went about their day. Birds circling overhead as they flew around in search of food. Music blaring from the apartments below you. It was all silenced by the muffs you wore. That was a dangerous thing, you couldn't hear a single thing - it left you vulnerable. Natasha had told you to leave them off whenever you weren't shooting, but you were too exhausted to remember.

Natsha had been working you into the ground.

Day and night on jobs. Whatever she wanted you to do. Kill someone? You would do it. Spy on someone for days straight? Yes ma'am. It was never a question of how morally bad the task was. Morals didn’t matter in this line of business. You knew better than to question her. Your body ached with a constant dull pain from constantly moving. You were always doing something. Whether it was in bed or out in the world or training with someone else. There was never a minute for rest for you.

Even still, that was not an excuse to get sloppy.

Evidence of that was a knife pressed against your throat and the earmuffs ripped from your head.

"Hi again," a voice whispered in your ear and you instantly knew who it was, muscles locking up tighter than before, "It's nice to see you." The cool metal dug into your skin, almost deep enough to draw blood but not quite. Your fingers twitched from where they sat on the rifle. "Now, I'm going to remove this knife, and you are going to stand up slowly, hands off the gun."

You waited with bated breath as she removed the knife from your skin, and you heard her take a few steps back. Carefully, you stood, removing your hands from the rifle. The instant you turned around and caught a glimpse of her taunting smirk, you reared your hand back and swung. It landed solidly against her cheek, her head snapping to the side.

She chuckled, spitting blood out onto the ground, "So that's how you want to play it?"

There wasn't even a second for you to react before she was lunging at you, throwing a payback punch. Your cheek throbbed with a newfound pain. The fight that ensued was a mix of grace and pure brutality. Rio's eyes were alight, a devious glint in them that promised pain. You were only focused on not dying.

Her punches landed nearly every time, but she rarely threw them - only when she knew they would hit. It was a smart tactic; you had to give her that. She was a good fighter, graceful in every movement she made. You admired that. Natasha taught you to be graceful, but you leaned on the side of being aggressive. It was odd since you didn't like violence. But that didn't matter when in a fight, as seen now.

The two of you traded blows, Rio dodging yours with little laughs, taunting you. Frustration boiled inside of you and your movements grew less strategic. They were desperate blows; you could tell you were losing. There was no way you could win this. But you weren't someone to give up.

Blood leaked from your lips from a nasty right hook and Rio had a black eye already forming. Both of you stood, breathless, for a moment, taking each other in. Rio had more time, expertise, she was more experienced. You barely had a year, maybe not even that, while she had who knows how long. You didn’t stand a chance.

For a moment, a crazed grin split your lips to match Rio's. Adrenaline pumped through you, buzzing beneath your veins and making you feel alive. There was a rush of what almost felt like joy. Although it was more like exhilaration - joy was the wrong word. There was no joy in fighting. It only lasted for a brief second before the two of you were at it again, dancing around each other in a skilled dance. Eventually, Rio got the better of you.

Shoving at your shoulders, Rio pushed you into a planter box. You spluttered as the wood dug into your bag and knocked the wind out of you. Rio stood above you, licking blood from her lips, and her eyes shining with pure mischief.

"You're cute," She whispered, a tugged her knife out. Your fingers tug into the planter box at the sight of it, chest heaving as you tried to regain your breath. The knife was pressed onto your neck, "Listen to me," Rio crouched and then leaned until she was right in front of your face, breath warm, "This is not a battle you will win. I was sent to kill you, but you're fun, so I'll leave you alive for now." Her words sent a flash of desperation through you and panic seized your thoughts. Gasping, you went to grab at her wrist. You weren't sure what you were going to do, but before you could Rio pulled back, smirking furiously before she was gone. Just like that she was bolting down the stairs.

That did not just happen.

You shut your eyes for a moment only to open them a second later. The sun was slowly setting, the sky a dusty pink with a few hues of blue in there. It was beautiful sight, unlike the blood that slowly leaked onto your lips, metallic and salty as you licked it. Rio had nailed a solid punch to your nose. It mixed with the blood that slowly bled from your lips as well, a small cut there.

Slowly, you shoved yourself off the planter box, groaning at the throbbing pain, but you snatched up your rifle and made your way down the roof. Time to head home. Your motorcycle was waiting for you once you climbed down the several flights of stairs. Going down was just about as hard as going up.  The helmet fit snuggly on your face, almost too snuggly that it was pressing against all your bruises. Regardless, you sped off, making your way to the house.

Natasha and Wanda had been doing digging for months, searching for some evidence as to what was going on. Danvers clearly had a part in it, from what you could tell, but Stark had gone radio-silent ever since that man came to the doorstep of the base. Another name that came up frequently was Agatha, and now this scuffle with Rio only made things clear they were part of it. You had to tell Wanda and Natasha, and maybe you could have some more quality time together.

As busy as they were, they made time for you. Slowly Wanda became part of your routine. She was confusing at first. Hot and cold, sweet and harsh. You never knew what to expect from her, but that was part of the excitement. However, a routine slowly built that you were familiar with. Wanda became as important of a part of your life as Natasha.

Your motorcycle buzzed to a stop as you parked it in the driveway, sliding your helmet off. The rifle strap dug uncomfortably into your shoulder; it was heavy for your tired body. Making your way to the door, you fumbled with the key in your pocket, pulling it out.

Key in lock. Key in lock. Turn the key.

It wasn't that difficult, but your fingers trembled around the key, and you eventually got the lock to turn.

You stumbled into the house, droplets of blood staining your hands and dirt underneath your nails. After you first killed someone, Natasha began sending you out on more solo mission, killing more people. It still hurt, a dull ache constantly thrumming in your chest. Tears would swell in your eyes at night when you lay awake, breathless and naked, while Natasha and wanda slept on your sides. But you were able to shove all the emotions down in favor of the sweet praise you got from your girlfriends when you got home. It made all killing worth it - at least that's what you told yourself.

Your fingers fumbled with the latch on your holster, finally pulling your gun out after a moment. It left the holster with a soft click, and you set the gun down on the table next to the door, taking your belt off next. You dropped the rifle next to the door and threw your keys onto the table so that they clattered softly.

Sinking to your knees, you fell face first onto the cool, wooden floor and turned so that your cheek was resting against it. The cold soothed the warm fire pulsing through your veins. You exhaled slowly, your eyes fluttering shut and you could hear soft footsteps coming down the stairs. You didn't have to look up to know it was Wanda, and she glided past you smoothly, heading into the kitchen. Her vanilla scent lingered. It had become a routine now, where you would just collapse on the floor.

It was part of your process. There was a familiarity to just lying on the floor, something plain and simple. Absently, you picked at your own fingernails, trying to erase the feeling of violence on them, the lingering trail of blood you slowly began to leave. You were so different from where you first started out, despising the business but being forced into it. Now you were killing people for a living. The thought of it made your insides churn anxiously and your eyes flutter shut. It was what you had to do. It made your girlfriends happy. Now that - that made butterflies erupt in your stomach whenever you thought of them. They were perfect.

For the next several minutes, maybe half an hour even, you let the floor comfort you. Swallowing thickly, you pushed yourself off the floor, legs shaky beneath you. It nearly physically hurt, you wobbled towards the living room, hoping on of your girlfriends would be there. Sure enough, you saw Natasha's hair pulled into a loose ponytail, a book resting in front of her from where she sat elegantly on the couch. Her legs were tucked beneath her as she flipped the pages. You staggered over, limbs screaming from the physical battle you just had, and- didn't make it. You fell just before you were able to land on the soft cushions, instead your knees sinking to floor and head landing on Natasha's shin.

You knew she glimpsed your face, but she didn't ask about the blood or the bruises, just offered quiet comfort. You appreciated the lack of questions. If she asked you weren't sure if you would be able to form a coherent answer, not with how exhausted you were.

Her bare skin was cool in a comforting way. You whined into her skin, head limp and body sore with dull pain. Her soft laugh echoed above you as her hand slid into your hair, gently tugging on all the tangles. The touch made your eyes close once again, leaning into her. She brushed her hand through your hair rhythmically, occasionally teasing the hair on your neck and scratching with her fingernails, but still gentle. She lulled all your worried thoughts with a soothing touch. Then after a few minutes, her fingers grabbed at your hair, tugging your head back. You whined petulantly, eyes opening reluctantly.

"Up." Her words were hardly directed at you, eyes still trained on her book, but you obeyed the command. The minute you were on your feet, Natasha spread one of her arms out, a silent invitation. Her eyes were still trained on the book, but you knew she was waiting. You fell into her lap; your legs bracketed her hips as your head landed on her shoulder. She hummed, pleased, and her arm snaked around you, stroking up and down your back while the other held her book.

You sat there for a while, listening to the soothing beat of her heart that was clear and steady beneath you. Every minute or so her hand would love your back to turn the page of the book, the ruffling sound just barely audible to your fuzzy mind. You could feel the fog slowly coming over, all worries leaving you completely with every second that ticked by. There was nothing coherent in your head, just absorbing Natasha's quiet comfort.

Your hands had buried into her shirt at some point, and lips began teasing her neck. It was nothing special, just a needy girl searching for something intimate without starting something you didn't have the energy to finish. Natasha's skin was pulled between your teeth as you alternated between softly biting and shallow sucking. Even as you did something, your eyes were squeezed shut, and soon enough even those small movements stopped.

Wanda came in, her footsteps soft as her baggy pants swished around her ankles. She wore a soft smile on her face, eyes amused as she took in the sight of her wife and you on the couch. Her hands found your hair the minute she came over, sinking onto the couch next to you, drawing a small sigh out of you. You shoved your face further into Natasha's neck. Wanda laughed, amused, but the sound hardly reached your ears.

"Sweet girl," she whispered, "It's time for some food."

It was as if you didn't register her words, still drawn into a certain headspace by Natasha's soothing movements. Natasha gave her wife an amused smile, finally looking away from her book for the first time and setting it down on the side table. Sighing softly, Wanda pecked Natsha on the cheek. Then it evolved into more, their lips melding together and tongues clashing. Both of their bodies pressing against you woke you up a bit and you began squirming in Natasha's lap.

They both chuckled against each other's mouths but otherwise ignored you. You whined quietly and sat up so that you could grab Natasha's collar, politely shoving Wanda away, before you pressed your lips onto Natasha's.

"There's our girl," Wanda mumbled, her hand in your hair tugging you back. An immature sound escaped your mouth as your eyes finally opened. Wanda raised a brow, questioning if you really wanted to go down this road when you protested to her hauling you up. And as unsteady as your legs were, you let her guide you into the kitchen. A warm meal was ready for you. But instead of heading to the table, she led you to the sink, her hands gripping your waist until she hauled you up onto the counter.

You made a small sound of protest, still surprised at her strength. Wanda pulled a cloth from the counter and ran it under the sink water. Gently, she pressed it against your face, softly hushing you when you flinched and whined. It was cool against the warmth of your skin from being shoved in Natasha’s neck, but it helped dull the pain that pulsed through your cuts. She dabbed away at your wounds, cleaning them up softly while Natasha plated some food for the three of you.

"What happened?" It was phrased as a harmless question, but there was a dangerous undertone to Wanda's words. You hesitated, eyes flickering down to look at the ground. Wanda pressed down particularly hard, and your gaze snapped back to her with a glare, "What happened?"

You shook your head, "Nothing."

Wanda sighed but let it go and in turn you let her guide you to the table, setting you down at a chair for food. You inhaled slowly. Everything was fine. You were fine. It was all going to be fine.

Taglist: @macaroni676 @gaylorvader @ashadash0904 @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @wolfangnight @rosekjsses @jessycatatiana

[tkpuke]

jayvik with 16/lee!vik?

Jayce + Viktor - 16. “Put the book down and pay attention to me!”

The sound of chalk harshly hitting against a blackboard kept repeating, Viktor drawing a equation that took half the space in a hurried manner as if the ideas flowing in his head would vanish any second before he could write the rest down. Viktor was deep in thought, having spent around three hours already in the lab alone. No distractions so far, which he was thankful for.

Until the door swung open.

Jayce comes in, immediately taking a seat while dramatically running his hands through his hair; an anxious habit. “I need to rant real quick.” He starts, but Viktor only glances once and keeps writing away. “It’s this upcoming speech,” he fetches something nearby to fiddle with. “I’m so nervous I can’t even think straight. I don’t even have a speech prepared!”

“Mmm.” Is all Viktor responds with, now taking a little step back to view his work so far. Something’s missing. He grabs a book that was on standby the entire time, flipping through the pages to see what went wrong with his equation.

“I don’t know how much Insight I should give the people about Hextech and its potential. Will it scare them? Will it bring hope?”

“uh huh.” Viktor says again, but he wasn’t truly listening. He has been too caught up on what he’s currently doing, it’s impossible for him to drop it all suddenly and put full attention on anything else. Don’t get him wrong, Viktor deeply appreciates that Jayce comes to him for advice or just to be a shoulder he can lean on, but right now wasn’t a good time. Jayce seems to be a little slow on picking that up, though.

The man sighs, resting his cheek on his palm. “I really wish you could be up there with me, Viktor. I know you already declined but it would’ve put me a lot at ease, y’know?” Silence was all he was met with. He could hear the wall clock ticking, pages being flipped and a occasional chalk meeting the blackboard, but no reply from Viktor. The only sound he was looking forward to hearing.

Jayce finally looks over, seeing Viktor’s nose buried deep in a book. This entire time was he just being ignored? Annoyance starts to fuel Jayce’s entire body, making him stand up to creep over to Viktor quietly. He doesn’t even hear him, of course, his mind somewhere else.

Viktor’s racing thoughts suddenly ripped away from him by a hand placing tiny squeezes on his side. The book was dropped, Viktor grabbing onto Jayce’s wrist tightly but not doing much to push it away.

“Put the book down and pay attention to me!” Jayce nearly pouts as a joke, still squeezing away on Viktor’s side while his other hand supports his back so he won’t fall from all the helpless squirming. “Wahait! Stohohop, I wahahas!” He shakes his head in the midst of all the squirming, loose hair strands starting to almost cover his eyes. Jayce stops abruptly but with the hand still there, almost like a warning.

“Then what was I talking about?” Jayce clearly sees Viktor trying to mentally recall, his silence speaking volumes. “uhm….err…” Viktor hesitantly looks up at him, who stared back unamused. Then, the tickling started back up again.

“It’s not looking good for you, Viktor. Maybe this will jog up your memory? Worth a shot, right?” The squeezes started to intentionally get lower, Jayce evilly seeking out for that bad spot: the hips.

And Viktor knows this. Hence why hitting weakly at Jayce’s chest, trying to signal a tap out. “noHO!—JAHAYCE!” He pretty much squeaks, cheeks slightly flushing from embarrassment. Viktor absolutely hates the sounds he makes whenever he gets tickled silly, but if you ask Jayce?

He adores them.

“That is my name.” Jayce answers innocently, honing in on just that spot. At this point, he doesn’t even care if Viktor had actually listened to him or not. At first, this was for the sole purpose of a bit of fun revenge. Although it always finishes out to be Jayce wanting to just hear his partner laugh like there’s no tomorrow, his reactions so priceless. How can someone not enjoy tickling a person that scrunches up their nose when you target there, or squeaks like a mouse when you tickle here?

It would’ve gone on for a few more minutes if Viktor didn’t bump against the blackboard in the midst of all his squirming, accidentally erasing some of the equation he had written. They both halt; Vitkor staring at the half erased problem in disbelief and Jayce staring because he’s about to get scolded by him any second, which is not a pretty sight.

But Viktor didn’t scold. He instead slowly turned, faces so close they can feel each other’s breath hit their skin. What Jayce failed to see from the corner of his eye was Viktor starting to flex his fingers.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

[bloomeng]

A long overdue update about the Magical Girl Au for those who are interested:

When I originally started this project it wasn’t even a project it was a one off drawing but I live designing themed clothing so it sorta spiraled from there. And it’s been very fun. I approached the au with the idea of basically attaching magical girl elements onto their already existing costumes. I really wanted the deisgns to feel like they could be put into a preexisting episode like a themed episode or for a gag.

As of right now Cass will be the last character to be designed in this aesthetic.

Somewhere along the road I decided since I was already putting so much time and effort into this might as well pick a more focused vision. Since then I’ve spent time laying out a more structured timeline and cast. With that shift also meant a shift in how I wanted to tackle the designs themselves.

A lot of this shift happened when I first started designing Batman. Batman’s design is so simple that it makes it very hard to reinvent the wheel. It wasn’t working out how I wanted—maybe this was just my own expectations getting in the way but regardless— so I started looking for inspiration. Somewhere around this time I started designing my 16th century Robin. I’ve always liked historical clothing and costuming in general. With that in mind I wanted these designs to feel a big more original and I decided the best way to do that was to add more historical (and lotr type fantasy) elements.

I’ve enjoyed this au and appreciate all the support I’ve gotten. Fear not this is not the end nor am I taking down posts but yeah some of the lore is in fact outdated at this point. I also will say that because they will no longer just be sketches I want to practice pushing my shape language not just in the clothing but in the characters themselves so the style will likely change. Not too much because it’s still me drawing them, but it’s another thing I will be considering way more moving forward.

I want to get more into my ideas but I’m gonna hold back until I have some actual art to show. A lot of it will feel familiar but def new stuff to come.

[puttersmile]

I had a weird dream and crack ship was born

Frowny: Oh…yeah she seems. Nice. Dogday? Where are you going?

Dogday offscreen running away as fast as he can.

I don't even remember the dream but I remember the ship.

I need possible ship name. Ideas? Right now I'm thinking Chocolate Rain lol.

Gametoons is so bad. But I somehow someway had a liking for Frowny Fox (and maybe some of the other forgotten critters)

I also wasn't satisfied by how i drew Maggie in my last comic. That's what I get for trying to draw her from memory and not just...looking up a picture. So I tried again. I like this design a lot more.

A short oneshot fic under the cut. At the last minute I changed it to be Christmas themed which is why the picture isn't Christmas themed.

The Day Frowny Realized Maggie Wasn't Just Scary

The outdoor mall was chaos. With the holidays right around the corner, critters flooded the square, scrambling for last-minute gifts and bargains. Stalls were crammed with shiny trinkets, festive treats, and decorations that probably cost twice as much as they should. Frowny hated this. Crowds made his fur itch, and the pressure of picking the perfect gift didn’t help.

He was here for a Secret Santa gift exchange, and the name he’d drawn—an acquaintance who loved puzzles and had a mild obsession with coffee—had him stumped. He hovered by a table of mugs, frowning at one shaped like a sleeping squirrel. It was cute, but not too cute, right? He didn’t want to send the wrong message.

Just as he reached for it, something slammed into his side, sending him stumbling into the stall. A sharp hiss of pain escaped Frowny as he caught himself on the edge of the table.

“MOVE IT, BUDDY!”

Frowny turned, his tail bristling, to see a yellow gecko in ugly brown pants rushing through the crowd, shoving critters out of his way like a hurricane. Before Frowny could even get a word out, the gecko shoved another critter. This time, the wrong one.

Maggie Mako.

Oh no.

Maggie didn’t budge. Didn’t even sway. She turned her head slowly, towering over the gecko like a tidal wave about to break. Her grin was wide and full of teeth. “You wanna try that again, pal?”

The gecko froze, his cocky energy deflating immediately. “Uh… my bad,” he stammered, his eyes darting for an exit.

“You shoved someone else, then bump into me? Oh, you’ve got guts. Let’s see if you like keeping them inside.”

The gecko's yellow scales turned white. “S-s-sorry ma'am! D-didn't mean to—uh—yeah, I’ll just—”

“Scram,” Maggie growled, crossing her arms. That was all it took. The gecko bolted, nearly tripping over his own tail as he disappeared into the crowd.

Maggie rolled her shoulders and went back to considering some very ornate holiday cookies, looking more annoyed than anything. “Some critters. That's what I thought.” she muttered, dusting her hands off.

Frowny, who had been standing frozen with one paw still clutching the squirrel mug, finally remembered how to breathe. He adjusted his scarf and was about to slink away unnoticed when Maggie turned, catching him mid-stare.

Her grin softened with recognition. Less teeth, more playful.

“You okay, Foxy boy?”

It took a second for Frowny’s brain to catch up. Maggie had just defended him. Maggie, the big, scary shark woman who could probably bench press two wagons full of pumpkins, had stepped in for him. And now she was looking at him, smiling, as if she hadn’t just terrified someone out of their scales.

“I, uh…” His left ear flicked nervously. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Maggie stepped closer, her shadow falling over him like a blanket. “You look a little pale. Well, paler than usual.” She smirked, her tone teasing but not unkind.

Frowny wanted to say something clever, but his brain had short-circuited. Instead, he noticed something odd: Maggie didn’t seem scary in that moment. She seemed… safe. Yes. safe, strong and confident, but not in a way that made him want to hide. In fact, it was kind of… nice?

And then it hit him. It wasn’t just nice. It was attractive. Hot even? Did his brain really just go there.

Oh no.

Maggie arched a brow, waiting for a response. When none came, she leaned down, eyes twinkling. “What’s the matter, Foxy? Catnap got your tongue?”

Frowny’s ears burned. He yanked his scarf higher over his face. “No. I’m fine. Thanks. Bye.” The words came out in a rushed jumble as he turned and awkwardly strutted away, his tail puffed up like a bottle brush.

Maggie blinked after him, then laughed. “You’re welcome!” she called, shaking her head. “Weird little guy.”

Meanwhile, Frowny ducked behind a corner, clutching his chest like his heart was about to escape. What was that? What was that?! He’d spent weeks avoiding Maggie because she was terrifying, and now, after one incident, he was—no. No, no,no. This wasn’t happening! He did not have a thing for Maggie Mako.

…But her smile had been kind of nice. And her strength had been… really nice. Pretty smile, very white cheerful teeth that didn't frighten him like they'd used to.

“Oh no,” he muttered to himself, ears flat. “This is bad.”

It was the beginning of the end. Or maybe the start of something good? No of course not! Or maybe it could be? Frowny wasn’t sure yet. He just knew he was doomed.

[likablemuffin]

Flustered Donnie? Flustered Donnie.

(From: Random ROTTMNT oneshots, requested story)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n was casually chilling in their room scrolling aimlessly on TikTok, when they got a text message from Raph.

Interesting. Raph didn't usually text them. They click on the text message.

PIZZAPIGEON: hey Y/n I need you to come and get donnie out of his lab hes been in it for like 3 days

N/n: what

PIZZAPIGEON: yea so could you come pls? He wont listen to any of us.

N/n: aight on my way

Y/n turns off their phone and puts it down so they can get ready. Once they finish, they grab up their phone again and head out the door, ready to beat some sense into this adorable purple nerd.

When they enter the lair, there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. 

Leo is playing on his phone, Mikey is drawing, and Raph...oh. Well, Raph is the only one who's not normal.

He's pacing around, looking worried, while continually glancing at his phone. When he notices Y/n entering, he instantly breathes a sigh of relief and walks up to them. "Oh, Y/n thank goodness you're here! Donnie has been in his lab for ages, and none of us can get him out!"

Y/n looks up to Donnie's lab and then back to a worried Raph. "Alright. I go get him big guy, don't you worry." Raph breathes a sigh of relief as Y/n rolls up their sleeves and heads off to Donnie's lab.

When Y/n enters Donnie's lab, they can tell Donnie hasn't been out in a while. It's super messy, with blankets lying everywhere, dirty hoodies, pieces of scrap metal, some wires... yeah and on top of all that, it smells...musty is the best way to describe it. (Dang, Donnie really needs some windows in here.)

Donnie doesn't even hear Y/n enter. He's too busy on his invention. Y/n's eye twitches as they entered into the lab pretty loud so that Donnie would hear them. So the only logical thing to do was to obviously...

Go back outside, close the door, slam it open, and claim that they are here to fucking END HIM.

So they did.

They quietly close the door and take a deep breath...and then- SLAM THE DOOR OPEN AS LOUD AS THEY POSSIBLY CAN, CAUSING DONNIE TO JUMP OUT OF HIS SEAT LIKE A CAT (Wait, that was so cute, what the-) AND SAY, "I AM HERE, BITCH."

Donnie scrambles to get off of the floor that he ultimately fell on and puts his headphones back on. "Jeez- Y/n what the heck!!" Y/n chuckles. "You have been stuck in here for FAR too long, and I have been requested to get you out and make you EAT SOMETHING." Donnie almost looks insulted. "I appreciate the idea Y/N, but I am far too busy right now to do anything of the sort."

Y/n snorts. "Like eating? What the heck do you mean?! You can't just not have time to eat! Come on, we're going to go get you something. 

Donnie struggles to get off of the floor, which only helps to prove Y/n's point that he needs to eat something. He can barely stand for crying out loud. "My dearest Y/n I would rather not eat as of right now. I will eat later." Y/n crosses their arms and rolls their eyes. "Oh yeah? And how is that going to turn out? You're going to forget."

Donnie rolls his eyes and uses his chair as a support. "No, I will not." Y/n squints their eyes at Donnie and then walks up to him. They stare right into his eyes. Donnie looks around. "Uhh...yes?" Y/n shrugs and, with surprising ease, picks up Donnie bridal style. Donnie was about to say something, but Y/n can tell that he was too flustered to get any words out.

Y/n huffs in triumph and carries him down the stairs and into the kitchen. Once they are there, Y/n puts Donnie on the counter and goes to grab him something to eat. Donnie still hasn't said anything and still seems to be comprehending what just happened.

Eventually, Y/n grabs some water and an apple and hands them to Donnie. Donnie slowly takes them and stares at them in his hands. Y/n squints their eyes at him, waiting for him to eat. Finally, Donnie takes a bite out of the apple, to which Y/n smiles and puts their hands on their hips. After Donnie finishes the apple, Y/n turns to leave.

"Welp. My work here is done. Don't forget to drink the water, or else I'll come back to haunt you." Donnie still doesn't say anything and just stares at Y/n and nods before going back to looking at the water in the cup he's holding. Y/n hums proudly and leaves.

A few minutes later, Leo pokes his head around the corner and says in a sing-song voice, "Ooooo, Dee's got a crushhh!!" 

Donnie's head instantly snaps up, and his face is showing a very nice rosy hue. "I do not!" Leo giggles from his spot behind the wall (coward). "Yes you dooo!" Donnie growls and quickly chugs the water before jumping off of the counter and rushing at Leo. "GET OVER HERE, YOU INSUFFERABLE BITCH!!" Leo squeaks in fright at Donnie charging at him and scurries out of the way just in time.

"I WILL END YOU!!" Leo screams as Donnie chases after him, and his screams can be heard throughout the whole lair. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[nymphrasis]

Ok now I should eep xD. Have been working on drawing out one of the asks for the Kuruna blog ouo. Not quite done just yet.

I haven't been too focus and actually been feeling tired all day, so my mind hasn't plan out any asks to have Kuruna be sent out yet xD. And note that by tired, I just meant very sleepy. My fault for not being too well rested ( I forgot to take the doggo out to pee last night and she kind of woke me up at 4am. Which I did took hee out to do her business. But I couldn't go back to sleep c.c . I did took a nap at around... 5:30PM 🤔? It was for two hours. But I didn't feel too well rested because I've wanted more xD. But I shouldn't nap too long, as I don't wanna miss out on dinner qwq.

That's when I've started working on art for one of Kuruna's asks qwp. I do want to see if I can do art of most of them pwp. Which btw, thank you for the many favs, reblogs, and asks QWQ! There was a lot more peeps than I've thought <3! I let out a sleepy cheer, out of giddiness pwp.

Thank you, really!

I hope that, after I have rested, I would come up with some questions or at least silly interactions to send Kuruna out to others blogs!

Ps. I want to try to update my kofi stuff for a change and, well... I did had the idea of just posting some rough and completed Kuruna art stuff on there qwp. Since normally, the only progress art I really upload is on a private Discord ( Only very, very rarely do I post progress art publicly ) >w<. So maybe Kofi would be a good idea to try qwq/. Potential chance that I may forget about it somewhere down the road. Not sure yet tho. I say this because sometimes I forget to upload on Instagram and Bluesky, as I am not really super active on either medias xD.

[autisticrosewilson]

So do you guys actually think that Jason's entire story, relationship to the others, and philosophy amounts to him being a rebellious teen who wants his dad's attention? Like are you 100% serious? I thought you were joking about that but too many of you are saying it with your whole chest.

And what the fuck is this "Bruce antagonizing Jason is fanon!" Shit I've been seeing? You guys are aware that a parent can love their kid and still be a shit parent right? I know you guys don't want to fathom the thought that maybe your blorbo might also occasionally have to face responsibility for consistently endangering children but let's not start being delusional now.

Bruce does love his kids, that doesn't mean that he hasn't hurt them. And I'd also argue that for the most part he feels in the right for it, and he's said multiple times that he believes it's for their own good, so you can't even argue that he's sorry about it. It's okay for you guys to admit that your PERSONAL INTERPRETATION of the character wouldn't do that but don't sit here and pretend that it's not a facet of the source.

[sysig]

Two big softies(?) (Patreon)

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt Sif Odile duo looping au again and I wanna be able to plot everything out more coherently but act 5 eternally looms overhead and boy I do not wanna look up

[hide-your-bugs-away]

hearing Alan talk about how much he liked Albert Grossman and Eric talk about how much he liked Brian Epstein makes my tiny emotional brain implode like GHGhHhh the Animals' actual manager was Not Good!!!!!!! they were actively looking at the managers of their contemporaries and wished they could've had that instead!!!!!!! 🥹

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[skunkes]

General oc talkkkk

I feel like i have to Do something with al once i take him off the shelf again (when my brain lets go of talon for another few months), ive been motivated to draw talon because he sits in my brain and i imagine interactions but it's much harder with al since al has been around for 10 years or more...and Al has like. Less conflict? In the sense of him just being a nice kind guy with regular human issues in a normal human world (or cow with regular individual issues in a normal furry world lol) ykwim?

Like. Talon is exaggerated he's a caricature of feelings to play with he's got lots of internal contradictions... and outside of that the whole Setting is easy to play with too, like, he's a vampire and those elements are more fun to think about and incorporate and build up in a way that requires a bit more brainpower of the fun variety (can make shit up) than Just a Regular Guy (has to be nore realistic, less fun to research), but less brainpower than, say, my abandoned Space Ocs where it was way harder for me to just make shit up, and way more to make shit up about (not as fun for me)

Idk! Its easy to imagine Talon in interactions, including ones with Al, or just self exploring dialogue....

Other than cute interactions between al and smunker its a lot harder to find stuff with him...he's a guy living in our regular world... his life has been fairly normal and he's good and nice. And i wouldnt change any of those things just to change em but there's less conflict other than the usual internal stuff all humans experience. I think if he wasnt my imaginary bf I would have shelved him more permanently like the oc group he came with...

There's something about how i very rarely make ocs, he's technically my oldest oc and talon is my newest oc, talon is what i Feel making ocs should feel like. And he's only over a year old. And he's still not even what I would call a well written character in any capacity. And yet i dont think i could very easily replicate this again ykwim. Im so bad at writing, and ..... creating....! Idk how people do any of it....i just wanna extend my ocs lives and my interest in them forever...

[sturionic]

Activism is not cold-calling.

Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.

I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.

As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.

Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.

IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.

Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.

This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.

Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.