#I really got carried away here

[cripplingoptimism]

Distractions [3/3]

Gonna wrap this up in 3 parts. Previous here.

Yo, WHAT was happening on Twitter this week?? Every time I opened the app there was a new analysis of the Goddamn couch scene. I didn't think Trigun could hurt me any more and yet here I am in a new spiral over an internet stranger's hot take.

Anywaaaaay, I've had this brainworm way before whatever angst got a hold of Twitter. I've always interpreted Vash and Wolfwood’s relationship as 'right people, wrong time'. But honestly, I love every interpretation of them - platonic, soulmates, lovers, etc. So, through these comics I wanted to show moments during their journey that conveyed the gradual evolution of their relationship (as I head cannon it lmao). Canonically, Vash never gets to tell Wolfwood how he feels and my poor little heart has been in denial about that ever since. So this is my *slight* rewriting of the series of events leading up to Wolfwood's solo journey.

At this point in the manga (ch. 50) I wanted to show that, despite the 7 month time skip, it's like no time has passed between them. They're still comfortable and casual with each other, still seeking the comfort of distractions - Neither of them wanting to shatter the illusion of normalcy in this moment. And I feel Vash would be the first to ask for more when reality comes knocking (through Wolfwood's fist lol).

He knows, even in a best-case scenario, his time with Wolfwood is limited. And while Vash is just as shackled by duty and guilt as Wolfwood, he carries an optimism about him that Wolfwood lacks. He needs Woolfwood to know how he feels so he can live without regret, regardless of the outcome. As such, he takes the leap. Wolfwood, unfortunately, cannot bring himself to share in that optimism. He’s too absorbed in worry about the orphanage, the children and especially Livio. His heart is screaming at him, but he knows he can’t afford to be distracted by his “selfish” desires. So, he rejects Vash by being realistic and hopes he can see that he wants this too, but just can't bear the impending heartbreak due to their circumstances. Vash does see this. He swallows his disappointment and heartbreak, earnestly grateful for the relationship he still has with Wolfwood.

I know my characterization feels like it conflicts with the moment on the couch; Vash can't even look at Wolfwood for that entire scene despite Wolfwood being the one to try and connect with him ("You look better...when you smile."). However, I never saw that moment as Vash rejecting Wolfwood. Not in the traditional sense at least (maybe an inadvertent rejection). Vash wanted more between them (to share his tomorrows), but not like this - not as a deathbed confession. He's heartbroken and grieving and (somewhat selfishly) can't see that Wolfwood just wants to enjoy his last moments with the one person on this planet he can call an equal and a friend.

Speaking of the dreaded couch scene, I don't think I can add anything new to the discourse, but I will say the tragedy for me really lies in all the emotions Wolfwood goes through:

Being at peace with his death ("This is the way you want it?" "Yeah."). It's what he believed he deserved, with all the blood on his hands, and the mutation of his body, he assumed he could never return to his previous life with everyone at the orphanage.

Grieving for his future (confetti). Wolfwood never believed he could be forgiven. The children celebrating his return showed their acceptance of him, welcoming him back regardless of his sins. He was worthy of forgiveness. His guilt prevented him from even entertaining the thought of forgiving himself. There must have been regret in those tears.

Seeking comfort from the one person he grew to truly trust and Vash not being strong enough to give it. I already mentioned this above, but Vash not even being able to look at Wolfwood throughout the entire couch scene tears me up.

From the narrative's perspective, Wolfwood needed to die. And even knowing that, it still absolutely destroyed me (and still does). Not just because he died, but because right before his death, he was given a glimmer of hope - that had he survived the fight with Livio, he would have had a chance at happiness.

Last side note here: I've seen discourse online explaining the entire scene is a metaphor for a wedding and I just wanna say, you'll be hearing from my therapist.

[gen-toon]

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

calm down heart, stop racing! - kim seokjin (cr.)

[courfee]

prompt #46 "Sirius is showing Regulus’ baby pictures to James and Reg is MORTIFIED" for the @marauderswithpalestineproject !! 🍉

thank you @kat-m-toast for the donation (and the prompt, which was just SO up my alley, i loved it) and also thanks to everyone else who donated and participted! 💕

and as a bonus a little closer look at those baby pictures :)

[thankstothe]

Some notes on Wilson's marriages/divorces, and how he met House:

• House didn't just meet a freshly divorced Wilson. He met barely married Wilson, who just got notified about his #1 divorce by a lawyer, not his wife

• Wilson walked around with papers on hand, long enough to give House a chance to sneak a peek. The same day he received the news. (there's a chance it was some sort of middle step in the divorce procedure, but "just served", checkmate your honor)

• House 100% knew that when he bailed him out. No, I don't have any concrete evidence besides "it's fucking House"

• House had Wilson observed the entire time to know he didn't open the papers. The divorce lawyer prob gave him an idea of what it is, and he was just marinating in the suffering juice

• House had to be nosy and stealthy when he checked the package Wilson clung to, he saw what's written on it

• They didn't actually talk at the conference itself, so House did it silently too

• There was a law firm address on the papers, and you couldn't just google shit then. House's had to remember it to investigate it further, or he already knew of the firm (or it said "BLAH LAW FIRM BLAH HERE'S YOUR DIVORCE PAPERS, LOSER", which is possible)

• Wilson likely opened them in a hotel room (or he looked at the package sadly/angrily there too), needed a drink, and House was at the bar

• House was watching Wilson at that conference, then at the bar, then meltdown over the song, then the whole fight and the mess, then the detention, and was like yeah I'll bail that

• "First words you ever said to me." This is when they first talked, Wilson was in jail and the one in need

• Ok alright, hear me out, if House didn't know what the papers were at the time of bailing. There are 2 paths for him to find out

• Wilson STILL had them on hand in jail

• Or Housey saw them at Wilson's hotel room. Yeah

• It's been over the decade since they've met and they both vividly remember the details of that drunk night (I get why for storytelling purposes. Still... Much to think about)

• That conference is either the last one, or one of the lasts, House attended. And that one was already boring to House without Wilson. 15 years prior to s06e06 "Known Unknowns", can't do the timeline magic I just eyeball it

• House also introduced Wilson to Cuddy pretty soon, since she was a witness to the levels of despair he was apparently in

• House might've pestered Cuddy to hire him, or she chose to do so herself (whenever she was dean). Maybe House chased away some poor oncologist to make an opening. Even if House isn't as obsessed with Wilson at the start of season 1, he's always plotting

• There's the brother thing too. Wilson still fresh out of med school, still divorcing, still guilty af and looking for the brother in Princeton, so he was happy to work there

• Prior to that, Wilson was working 2 jobs to support himself and Sam and was ready to follow her to Baltimore

• The divorce and meeting House happened in 1991, the same year USSR completely fell apart. Just thought I'll throw that in #educational

• Wilson was married, non-fraudulently, for 12 years total

• Marriage #1 has only lasted 1 year

• That means every marriage House was present for has lasted longer #math

• Wilson found a way to get fulfilled while in the marriage

• Now he's got a needy bitch with infinite problems and who will slurp any poison he has to siphon

• I'd argue House is what made Wilson bearable at home

• At the same time, House is what kept Wilson away from home, ultimately contributing to the divorce

• Wilson himself describes his marriages as crappy - he doesn't really need help destroying them. House still helps~✨

• Timeline gets wonky, but there couldn't have been much of a downtime between marriages, a couple of years max

• "Fell in love at the wedding" - whatever the fuck that means for Wilson

• Either Wilson met Sam through that wedding, and she also aimed to work in medicine - how they've connected. Or they went there as a couple, both being med students? Got high on emotions and jumped into marriage

• Wilson speedruns relationships once he's in them, so it could've gone "hey that was a nice wedding, how about we have our own?"

• He fucking sucks at proposals, his looks and general air of niceness carried him all 3 times, I will not be hearing any objections on the matter

• When Wilson talks to Cameron about cheating. He says, "I have (cheated). I always told them"

• "Them"

• It's could've been every marriage (#1, #2 and #3). If boy managed to sneak in cheating in his 1-year lightning marriage #1, while he was studying + 2 jobs (now I don't doubt his time management skills, but it's still a hassle. On the other hand, all that stress couldn't have been helping)

• Or it could be #1 and #2, or #1 and #3. But #3 is pretty much a certainty (he flirts with nurses on screen, House is also there), and it's "them", so why would he randomly stop in the middle? Don't think so

• What's most likely is - #2 and #3. When arguing with Sam (#1) again she didn't mention or allude to the cheating, her problem was that Wilson didn't communicate ANY emotions to her, she even admitted to House she made the most mistakes in that marriage, let's say there's some truth in that

• Wilson either didn't tell Sam about cheating, she didn't have a problem with it, or he lied to Cameron

• OR he didn't cheat on Sam

• He started to cheat after the first divorce AND his marriages started to last longer, which is funnier too

• He could've started cheating prior to House entering the picture, but much more likely - after. Divorce and/or House are the cause

• Speaking of. Meeting House is very tightly linked to the #1 divorce. Every time Wilson would think back on it, he would have to think about all the turmoil and getting bailed by House. And vice versa - every time he'd think back on meeting House...

• "I met someone who made me feel funny. And I didn't want to let that feeling go." Another Cameron talk. Ur honor, there's something on that wall

• btw, he is STILL married while meeting House, so if you hilson 1st-night-fuck truther, that meeting is his cheater origin story in a more practical sense. He then could've really meant all the marriages, but then he lied about telling Sam/Cameron, he might not count it since he's divorcing to tell Sam

• Ultimately, he's a huge liar, and I'm wasting my time. What I'm saying - nothing is really off the table with this guy in terms of hcs

• Aftermaths of #2 and #3 aren't really talked about like #1. It must've been really nuclear

• House says neither of them recovered from (#1) divorce to Wilson's face, Wilson doesn't contest that in any way. Even tho House didn't know Wilson before the divorce he usually right on the money with these things

• After the divorce #2 Wilson got 3 legged cat

• After failing to secure marriage #4 (#1 part 2) he got a diabetic cat

• Just like the thing he has with missing phone calls, after every divorce, consciously or not, he might expect a savior to bail him out

• After and during #3 he crashed at House's, then surfed hotels, then moved in with a dying patient, then Amber's, then House moved in with him (still Amber's)

• Maybe his wives kept taking properties in the divorce, and he just stopped getting them

• Man frankly didn't have a home for a while (HOMELESS BUT NOT HOUSELESS)

• Then Wilson finally commits and gets the place for himself and House, from Bonnie (#2)

• Wilson adamantly remains on good terms with his ex-wives (but not random exes. One helps House with a prank, House kept tabs bc of course)

• But Wilson thinks they hate him. Did he ever pay attention to them?

• While spending all the time with House, then cheating, telling his wives about it, Wilson gave them more attention and emotions to delay the divorce

• He also learned how not to get attached in marriage, to not get destroyed by the divorce (excellent gambit if you expect your marriage to fail)

• He has a better support system now too. Can't believe House is your support system, fucking lmao and ouch. Cuddy is his only other friend we see, maybe Stacy at some point (he kept in touch with after the incident)

• All his other friends and family we hear next to nothing about, at best they're surface level

• In season 5 he's only visited by the coworkers/House's team + Cuddy <- all that is pretty much House's tolerance circle

• House is pathetic, but Wilson is something else entirely

[hairpinturnn]

mark of cain

marc marquez + demian: the story of emil sinclair by herman hesse

[puppyeared]

is this your card? ♦️♣️♥️♠️ it isnt but you dont wanna hurt his feelings

[clottedscream]

“it’s just a warmup sketch,” i say to myself. “i’m just gonna warm up on shading and coloring. i’m just warming up on anatomy.” my spine crackles from sitting in shrimp stance for 2 hours. “just to warm up.”

[syn4k]

to be, or not to be (romanticization of the inevitable)

[skrunksthatwunk]

KUWAMESHI SKETCH DUMP KUWAMESHI SKETCH DUMP in which they are little shits who cannot stop messing with each other

also obv zoom in to see everything bc this shit is CRAMPED. but it's all neat i prommy

[deoidesign]

Hi, how did you learn to draw Steve's physique?

Ohh what a complicated thing to answer...

When it comes to how I learned to draw anything, it's hard to say anything too specific since it's always a culmination of many years of assorted study and practice... but I can try to do my best to explain some of the biggest things that helped me learn, some tips I keep in mind, and maybe at least some places to start/delve further.

(just a little disclaimer it's not like my drawings here are going to be 100% medically accurate.. they're just to illustrate concepts!)

The main thing about learning various physiques is understanding anatomy. Which feels obvious, but I don't mean proportions; these are important, but perhaps more important is understanding the skeleton and how it moves and learning where muscles connect to bones and where fat grows on the body. When you understand how these function on a more mechanical level, depicting form and movement in a way that feels natural comes in tow.

For instance, understanding things like the pronation and supination of the radius and ulna, as well as the fact that muscles can ONLY contract or relax, will help you understand a bit better which muscles will be flexed and which will not while someone moves. It's inherent to the positioning based on the structural makeup of the body... It's not like you NEED to memorize all the muscles and bones, of course, but understanding and gaining at least a passive familiarity with the concepts really helps.

In tandem with this concept is the way parts of the body flow into eachother. Muscles ALWAYS come in groups because they can only contract. Whatever muscle is there to lift something, there is a muscle on the other side to pull that bone back down. What this results in is a series of straight edges next to curves, which gives us a lot of really lovely "s curves" and dents and folds and so on and so forth just naturally occurring.

I would suggest at least learning the "bony landmarks", which are bones (usually) visible on the surface of the body. things like the iliac crest, the great trochanter, the 7th vertabrae, the acromion process... These can be used to help you understand the parts of the body as angles and relationships, rather than trying to remember lengths and sizes, which vary immensely... (since you asked about steve, he can be our model... also study these on your own don't just take my word for it haha, these are the ones I personally keep in mind)

I've done the same thing with body hair... learning where it grows and in which directions... It helps me make up variations without needing reference, because I have a set of rules I can follow.

The biggest thing that helped me understand all this on a much deeper level was my ecorche course. I sculpted this guy. We started by sculpting the entire skeleton to understand the bones, and then we added muscles on top. Not every single muscle, of course, but the "artistic muscles" AKA the ones which directly affect the surface of the body. Doing this let us see where muscles connect, because we would make a shape, put it on the bone where it actually goes, and then you get to see how other muscles overlap that.

This helped me, perhaps, more than anything else. But I also didn't just start with this course, I had been drawing for years before I even took it. I had been in school for years before I took it. Not that I think it wouldn't be helpful to someone just starting out, but I do think that the more you know going in, the better an in-depth course like this will help you and stick with you. Classes are also expensive, though so I'm not really like... recommending you pay potentially thousands of dollars to take one... But it did help me a lot, personally.

I also, of course, have done many figure, gesture, and master studies...

These just help you quickly gain a stronger understanding of generalized anatomy, and gives you real life examples of and practice with of how people move and balance.

What all this does when combined, is gives me a very solid ability to depict movement and form in a way that feels relatively natural from my subconscious without the need for reference.

The rest of how I've learned to draw his physique is honestly mostly just stylization. I understand the body, and this is how I am depicting it for his level of musculature.

And as I move into depicting him in other ways, either moving in comics or in animation, realistically rendered, or extra stylized, these concepts inform every step of that process for me! When he keeps the same/similar relationships between parts, he gets to still look like himself.

It ALSO really helps when putting clothes on, because the way cloth falls and bunches and lifts is all directly related to the form it is on... So the more you understand that form, the more you can depict clothing and movement in a way that feels natural.

This is all, of course, true when I draw anyone, you asked about Steve so I'm trying to mostly show with him! But because I'm just drawing from raw information of general anatomy rather than trying to study one body type at a time, it allows a lot more "give," I think!

Like, here's most of the cast from TTA so far... actually, they're not as varied as I thought they were nevermind LMAO ignore this part

But, it also makes monster and alien design much easier! It's a lot easier to come up with non-human anatomy when I understand human anatomy, because I can manipulate the knowledge I have...

There is infinite more to study in the world of anatomy... The complexity of the human body goes extremely deep. For our purposes as artists, we need only depict a fraction of it, but more information rarely hurts the process.

I'm sure there's something in here that's wrong on a technical level, I'm mostly going off of memory. But that's kind of my point - I understand enough generally and conceptually that when I am missing something and need to find reference for it, I understand what I'm looking at. It's much easier than trying to learn AND draw at the same time.

I hope even one thing in here helped you! Sorry it's so long.

[buwheal]

I wanna give him a blanket. Can it maybe just materialize outta nowhere?

(I know fabric wrinkles suck to draw. You don't gotta 😵)

[hailsatanacab]

"give me a fandom and a prompt and i'll give you at least five sentences"

Ok then.

Jazz, Danny and Bruce are in the same age range, and Bruce has been harboring a massive crush on 7'foot tall Jazz since just after he began his training journey.

His kids know about and are mercyless. Danny thinks he's a bit of a fruit loop and 100% knows Bruce has a crush on his sister.

Into the future his coworkers find out that batman has been quietly pining after the Ghost Kings sister for years.

Chaos.

love that this reads as a challenge. Ok then. Write it. i will, let's goooo!

(sorry i kinda took it so that Jazz, Danny, and Bruce were all old friends but in that horrible adult way where you can only hang out with each other once in a blue moon when your work schedules miraculously align)

——

"Respectfully, Batman, you can take your "it's not necessary" and you can shove it up your arse. There's a demon the size of a skyscraper heading towards Metropolis and we need reinforcements."

"Superman can—"

"Superman can't. You do remember the part of the report I made telling you this, right? Or did your stubborn little bat brain just shut down when I mentioned magic?"

"Actually," Nightwing interrupts from the side, a shit-eating grin on his face, "I think his brain shut down when you mentioned the Ghost King."

"Nightwing." Batman growls in warning, his jaw clenching so hard Constantine can swear he hears the bones creaking.

Nightwing just snickers, and turns away to press a finger to his ear, no doubt letting the rest of the bat brood in on what's happening here... Whatever that is. All Constantine knows is that Batman is standing between him and fixing this mess for no God-forsaken reason.

Luckily, some of the more reasonable members of the League step in to try and talk some sense into Batman. It gives him some time to calm down.

"Batman. We need him. I know you dislike working with unknowns, but he's our best shot."

It actually looks like Wonder Woman might be getting through to him, Batman even opens his mouth to actually explain some things—a huge step forward for this incredibly emotionally constipated man.

Instead, Nightwing snorts and beats him to it. "Unknowns? More like—"

"Nightwing, please."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, get your head out of your arse and let me do this. The Ghost King is our only hope. I'm summoning him, no matter what you say."

For a long second, Constantine thinks that he'll refuse and he might have to resort to more violent methods of persuasion—which, honestly, Constantine has fantasised about many times during the more boring JL meetings—but eventually, Batman relents and steps out of the way.

"Fine. Nightwing, go check in with Red Robin."

Nightwing has the kind of devious smile that makes John glad he doesn't have kids.

"Oh, don't worry about it, B. Red Robin's coming here. So's Red Hood, I don't need to go anywhere."

"Nightwing—"

"Sh, it's starting." So saying, Nightwing then very obviously ignores Batman's protests with a poker face that even Constantine envies. What he wouldn't give to be able to shut the bat out like that.

The summoning goes quickly, thankfully. The lights flicker, the temperature drops, and the chalk circle erupts in green flames. Standard summoning practices, sure. Even the impromptu appearance of Red Hood and Red Robin—"Did we miss him?", "No, not yet! I got 2:37, what about you guys?"—doesn't throw him off.

It does pique his interest, though. Just what the hell is going on with them? Constantine's weighing up the pros and cons of asking them once all of this is over when the ground splits open and the clawed hand of the Ghost King begins to pull himself out of the ground.

John's a seasoned summoner. It's practically his job, he's done it countless times.

The icey fear that grips his heart, that freezes his breath in his chest, is new.

Pure, unadulterated power floods the area and he feels small, so, so small, like a child playing with things he doesn't understand. When he finally tears his eyes away from the portal, he catches a glimpse of the other magic users in the room, the same horror he feels clear in their faces. Even Captain Marvel stares slackjawed.

The pressure rises, death magic screaming in his ears, almost forcing him to his knees, and suddenly he's not so sure this is a good idea.

Too late to back out now, though.

Sickly green light pours from the crack in the ground, growing brighter and brighter as the giant figure rises, until Constantine has to close his eyes and look away. The last thing he sees are eyes, teeth, horns, a crown so bright that it burns an afterimage into his retinas.

When the light dies down and he opens his eyes again, a humanoid man floats in the centre of the circle. The ground is whole, nothing is burning, the man doesn't even have a crown. Instead, other than the wispy white hair, slightly green skin, and the—you know—floating, the Ghost King appears pretty normal. Huh.

Constantine blinks, rubbing his bleary eyes, and checks around to make sure everyone's okay. Most of the League are doing the same as him, taking fortifying breaths and trying to appear as if they've not just been completely blinded.

Most of them, that is, aside from the Gotham vigilantes.

Batman himself stands upright, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered by the whole thing and John's got to admit, he wishes he could do that, too. That was... a hell of a show.

The others, however, are waving frantically with huge smiles on their faces.

What?

There's a brief, taut silence, as everyone else tries to catch their breath.

As much as he would rather take a bit of a breather, John should probably start making introductions. Unfortunately, he only gets as far as opening his mouth before the Ghost King beats him to it.

"Oh, Ancients, hey guys! It's been forever, how are you? Look at you all, so grown up, wow—Nightwing, buddy, do a flip!"

It doesn't take much to get Nightwing going, and he certainly doesn't leave it at one flip. The whole of the Justice League and Justice League Dark watch with open mouths as Nightwing performs for the Ghost King.

What, and John can't stress this enough, the fuck?

As soon as Nightwing rights himself, Red Hood swats him across the back of the head and calls him a show off.

The Ghost King just laughs as he claps. "There's my little monkey, look at you go! And I'm loving that leather jacket, Hood, is that new? Looks good on you, really your colour. Brings out the red in your helmet."

"Thanks, Uncle D. At least someone around here appreciates fashion."

"Are you kidding me, you know I breathe fashion, need I remind—"

"Need I remind you of the Discowing incident?"

"That was era-appropriate and you know it! Uncle D, tell him it was era-appropriate!"

"It was era-appropriate, but so are crocs and it doesn't make them fashionable." The Ghost King—and holy shit, is this actually the Ghost King? Or did Constantine just accidentally summon a deceased family member, what the fuck is happening here?—turns to look at Red Robin with a smile, resolutely ignorning the argument he created. "How you doing, Double R? You get that tablet Tucker made for you?"

"Yes, thank you! It's so cool, how did he—"

"How's Tucker doing?" Batman interrupts, his hands now hidden underneath his cape.

As soon as the question leaves his lips, everyone groans. Red Robin makes a show of lifting up his wrist and staring at it intently.

"Incredible," Red Hood mutters with a shake of his head.

Even the Ghost King seems put out, rolling his eyes and answering in a flat tone as if he knows Batman isn't interested in what he has to say.

Not for the first time, Constantine feels like he's missing something.

"Tucker's doing very well, thank you for asking."

What follows is the most awkward silence Constantine has ever had the pleasure to be a part of.

All three of the Gotham vigilantes, including the Ghost King, are staring at Batman, waiting for something. Batman's cloak shifts as if he's moving his hands, fidgeting. If Constantine didn't know any better, he'd say he was nervous.

"Good. That's good, I'm glad to hear it."

Instead of saying anything else, the Ghost King just raises his eyebrows and continues to stare at Batman. Has he offended him in some way? Are they all going to die because of this?

After what seems like an agonising few minutes but could only really be a few seconds, Batman's shoulders dip and he takes a breath. "And Jazz?"

They all erupt into shouts, the Ghost King being the loudest. The only thing John can make out is when the Ghost King throws his hand in the air to point at Red Robin with a shout of "Time!"

"1:30.91, we got 1:30.91 on the clock, who's closest?"

"Did you even try to hold it in at all, old man? I'm so disappointed in you. People think you're cool. People think you're suave, I don't understand how they could be so wrong."

"Thank you for that, Hood."

"No, thank you, I won. Again. Because you're so predictable. Actually, I had one minute seventeen, so you held out longer than I thought you would."

Batman pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs loudly.

Constantine feels like doing the same thing.

Whatever. He's going to have to interrupt... whatever this is. There's still a rampaging demon heading their way that they've got to bargain for. He can untangle Batman's personal connection to the Ghost King later. Or he could leave it alone and forget everything about it.

Yeah, he'll do that one.

But before he can actually open his mouth to say anything, the Ghost King, again, beats him to it.

"So, B-Man, did you summon me here for a particular reason, or was it really just so you could ask about Jazz?"

There's a beat of silence before Batman mutters, "I asked about Tucker, too. We've not seen each other in so long, it's only polite."

"And I'm sure you meant it, you're the paragon of manners." The Ghost King nods slow and wide-eyed as if he doesn't believe him at all.

At this point, even Constantine doesn't believe him.

"It has been forever, though." The Ghost King muses, bringing his hand to his chin and folding his legs underneath him. "We should all get together sometime! If you get Alfie to make some of his cookies again, I'll get Clockwork to lend us a pocket dimension where we can spend as much time as we want, deal?"

"It's a deal."

No hesitation at all, incredible.

Hold on. Wait. John has to fight the urge to pinch himself, because this has to be a dream, right? Is Batman actually smiling? He didn't even know he could do that.

An itch niggles at the back of John's mind. He's starting to get an inkling of what's going on here and it's... weird, to say the least.

"Oooh," Nightwing singsongs, like a child in a playground tickled by the very idea of romance.

But then, who's he to judge? John's no stranger to strange bedfellows, that's for sure. Whoever this Jazz is, she must be something incredible—she'd have to be, if Batman can't even go two minutes without asking about her.

"Batman and Jasmine sitting in a tree," Nightwing continues, with both Red Hood and Red Robin joining in for the rest. "K—I—S—S—I—"

"Stop," Batman growls, completely drowned out by the Ghost King's laughter, but...

But.

It all suddenly clicks for John.

The Ghost King Phantom.

Her Royal Highness, Princess Jasmine Phantom.

Jazz.

"Holy shit, mate," John breathes, unable to stop himself as everyone looks his way. "You have the hots for the Princess of the Infinite Realms?"

The Justice League meeting room has never descended into chaos quicker.

[support-ponies]

Hiiii! I love this blog sm it makes me so happy!

I wanted to request a trans pride sunburst? He’s my comfort character, I project onto him a lot and he feels so trans coded imo. It would mean a lot to me :D

Thank you so so much if you get around to this!! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

[mythtiide]

guysss stop staring lovingly into eachothers eyes we have a facility to run omg guyssssssssssss

[reinedeslys-central]

"I think you should totally get in the back of my truck, actually," Leo says, linking pinkies with Jason. "What's the line? 'I can show you the world'?"

Jason stares down at where their fingers are curled together, peach on olive. He can't stop looking. "You don't have a truck."

Leo groans. "That was one time. I promise this one's legal. See?" He gently untangles their hands and slips behind the blue Chevy, returning with a slip of wrinkled paper that he triumphantly shoves in Jason's face.

LEO, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU BREAK MY CAR WHILE I'M IN IOWA I WILL HAUNT YOU TO THE END OF TIME.

Your loving cousin, Nyssa (P.S. You can take your boy for a ride. I'll allow it. There's blankets in the back (and please help yourself to the glovebox). Don't tell me.)

Jason's eyes travel down the sparkly purple pen, catching on the note at the bottom before flickering back up. There's something that aches in his chest at the words 'your boy'.

He's not sure what expression takes over his face, but Leo, for his part, sees him and immediately ducks his head down so he can read the paper too, frowning. Jason follows his eyes down to the same line as they widen and Leo turns a raging, glorious red before hastily re-crumpling the note and sticking it into one of the many pockets of his cargo pants.

He clears his throat awkwardly while inspecting the dying grass at their feet. It looks like it could be good grass if it ever rains again this month, nice and long and thick.

..Yeah, nevermind.

He takes his glasses off and cleans them in an attempt to - what, exactly? It's not like he's got the object permanence of a toddler. It's not like looking away will stop him from thinking about red-hot blushes and bouncing curls and sharp smiles and -

Leo claps once, calling Jason's attention back up to him and the pretty blush staining his freckled nose. He looks just as awkward, laughing bashfully.

"Well, that's just Nyssa. Uh, she probably wouldn't actually haunt me, she doesn't believe in ghosts - not, I mean, if you do -" his words trip over each other, diverting the original innuendo that was definitely just meant to tease Leo since Jason's never even met her, not to mention he's not his, finally ending with - "but as you can see, it's clearly perfectly legal. So."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Somehow I doubt that." Leo groans. "Oh, come on, dude, live a little, why dontcha?" He sidles up to him again, draping a warm arm over his shoulders and drawing him over to the car doors. "I know, you know, your dad's in California, your mom's in Paris, and your sister's at a party."

Jason opens his mouth to protest again and -

"- and before you say that you have homework," Leo scoffs, "allow me to remind you that we did our homework together yesterday, and you're already done your math homework for tomorrow, because you're a nerd."

Jason closes his mouth. "It's a school night," he offers weakly.

"Yeah, and every minute you have us waste out here is another minute we're not in the car, ergo another minute we're wasting, on a school night." Leo steps around him and holds his hands out again, eventually latching on to Jason's wrists and tugging him closer so he can peer into his eyes.

Jason may or may not forget how to breathe.

"Are you tired? You don't look tired," Leo frowns. "If you really don't want to go, I won't force you, y'know."

Jason forces his lungs to expand, contract, expand, so he can blurt out, "No, I mean, you got me. I'll go."

Leo grins as bright as the setting sun and twists around, whooping. He not-so-gently pushes Jason towards the car door before jogging over to hop into the driver's seat.

It takes a while, once they're actually on the road and leaving their neighbourhoods behind, that Jason finally goes, "You know, I'm just as concerned with how legal this is as I am with the fact that you still haven't told me where we're going."

Leo glares at him through the mirror. "Hey, if I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

Jason hates surprises. "For all I know, you just kidnapped me for a surprise road trip to Toronto, and I didn't even pack my toothbrush."

Laughter bubbles out of the boy sitting at the wheel, quickly escalating into a full guffaw. "You're funny," Leo gasps, wiping away tears at a red light. "How did I not notice that you're funny?"

Jason's definitely never been told that he's funny. He might joke, sure, but being 'funny' is reserved for people like Percy, people like Leo or Cecil, who carry humour on them like sugar on a pastry, baked into their laughs and sprinkled over top with how clever they are.

No matter how hard Jason's tried, he's never been very clever.

Leo's still laughing, now more of a soft giggle as he pulls into the left lane to make a turn. He tries not to let it affect him.

"You should joke more often, dude. Bet all the girls would love that."

Jason looks outside at the trees and farms they're passing. Judging by the position of the sun, they're heading pretty much due south. There's nothing down south for them to be doing, though, especially not this late at night.

Skinny dipping, maybe. He wouldn't put it past Leo to suggest something like that and actually go through with it. But dragging him along? They barely know each other. What's a couple months on all the other people he knows?

"You wanna turn the radio on?" Leo says. Jason looks over to see him watching him with an odd smile. "Shotgun's choice, right? Don't worry, I won't judge. Even though I bet you listen to those 24-hour 'nature recordings' for fun and don't know what real music sounds like."

Jason rolls his eyes and plays with the dial until the 106.1 comes on. Leo groans. "Seriously? They keep playing, like, the same six artists over and over. Sure, Top 40's fine, but show a little variety, you know?"

He shrugs. It's like Leo said - he doesn't really know radio stations. His dad - when he deigns to drive the family places - is much more of a silence-of-doom, or failing that, an ominous-car-conversations person. "You put something on, then, if you're so set on it." He replies.

The warm light from the street plays over Leo's knuckles as he switches the wheel to one hand, blindly flailing the other one towards Jason until he hits the box behind the gear shift. "Pick a CD from here, whatever's fine. Eh, maybe not the Chopin or Metallica though. Might shift the vibe a bit too much."

Obligingly, Jason tugs at the black, faux-leather box until it comes open with a muffled thunk. Inside is a stack of CDs, spanning everything from Katy Perry to Vivaldi to Iron Maiden to Monsta X.

"Your cousin's got quite the music taste," he tosses out, rifling through the stack while giving periodic glances out the window to make sure they're not, like, five seconds away from a crash or something.

If there was anything Beryl Grace taught her kids, it was how to be a responsible passenger.

Almost on autopilot, Jason digs the pink-purple Teenage Dream CD out of the pile and then has to hastily shove the polaroids that spill out from underneath it back between the surrounding paper disc-sleeves (Mamma Mia!, he sees, and ..Heng:garæ? Whatever that means). That can't be safe for the discs, especially in a moving card, but then again who is he to judge. He doesn't even own any CDs.

They've fully left the town behind now, sailing down the open road with nothing but trees, farms, and the occasional streetlight in sight. He leans over and pops the disc into the CD drive, wondering again for the hundredth time where Leo's taking him.

Leo rolls to a stop at a four-way and watches him skip over the first two songs. "Whadya choose?"

Jason smiles. "Is now a good time to tell you I was born in Pasadena?"

The open bars of 'California Gurls' start to play, and Leo's warm, penny-brown eyes widen before he laughs, bright and a touch wild, incredulous.

It's weird. It's so weird. Maybe this is what his father meant when he said not to get any weird ideas in his head so close to finally reaching the decade-long goal of an Ivy League school. Maybe this is what his mother meant when she'd chastised him, saying hormonal teenagers got more impulsive with puberty and he should take care to keep listening to his parents, lest he lose everything he's worked so hard for.

If anyone else had tried this, he thinks, he wouldn't have said yes. He would have stayed at home, studied ahead for bond enthalpy and subjunctive Spanish, made tomorrow's lunch and cleaned his room. Adhering to routine. Acting - being normal.

You have to be normal, Jason. That's how they love you.

I will not tolerate an abnormal son.

Oh, Jason, it's like you just don't understand. What will people say? About you? About our family?

Leo isn't normal. Or maybe he is. Normal doesn't exist, when he's with Leo. He likes that about him.

He takes a risk and rolls the window down halfway so he can lean his head out and watch the sky, crisp wind tousling his hair. Leo smirks at him and switches the wheel to his right hand so he can roll his window down to match.

"Ten minutes," he says. "Look alive, buddy."

"There must be something in the water", Katy Perry croons.

also from 'burning like a glowing star', this valgrace fic I'm writing.

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