#Just remembered this old goldie

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

enamored with the bill possessing Ford's body au. If you would feel up to it, do you have more tidbits? :3

I’m happy to see so many people enjoying it!! I have a lot of additional tidbits so I’ll just stick to giving a few for now:

— Dipper finds out Ford is the author a lot earlier, for the obvious reasons of Bill being present in Ford’s body. He doesn’t put the pieces together right away, only because initially, he hates Bill, disappointed that the ‘scientist’ his parents spoke about that he wanted to impress turned out to be nothing like what he had hoped, ignoring and dismissing him instead, even taking a liking to Mabel before him! He has this idealised version of the author in his head, someone who he relates to and finds comfort in, and he doesn’t want to taint that vision by suspecting it may be someone who he hates. He may be a mystery lover but he is still a twelve year old with a grudge.

It’s only after he and Bill start getting along that he brings it up, and Bill doesn’t think to lie. He’s just that surprised Dipper found it. He does lie about not remembering things though to avoid Dipper’s questions about the paranoia and why he hid it — as on the spot kind of thing, and that becomes Dipper’s mystery fixation of the summer.

— Stan and Bill have various nicknames for each other, with Bill’s main one for Stan being ‘Fez’, and Stan’s main one for Bill being ‘Goldie’.

— Speaking of them, when it comes to their relationship, they are genuinely friends after thirty years of living together, but what that friendship entails is where it gets complicated and I don’t think I can summarise here. I’d say it can best be described as two people who have come to understand each other very deeply, and are similar in a thousand ways, but they would rather throw themselves off a cliff than acknowledge or talk about that. There’s also the lingering anger and resentment on Stan’s end, not for taking Ford’s body, he knows Bill doesn’t want to be stuck here either, but for what he did to Ford before that, how he hurt him. He, much to his confusion, does care about Bill, and Bill, much to his own confusion as well, does care about Stan back, but their friendship is built on something awful, and that doesn’t just go away.

— On a sillier note, it was in 1990 that Stan realised Bill was his only friend and that he sort of enjoyed his company, and that truly was a horrifying moment. On the other end Bill finally admits to some degree he might care for Stan in 1994, which happens while both of them are drunk, and Bill likes to claim it didn’t happen. The image below also probably summarises the lighter aspect of their dynamic better than I could word it here:

— Bill has taxidermy as a hobby and actually gives Dipper and Mabel a few lessons in it, creating some displays for the shack. Weirdly good bonding activity.

— Very specific ‘episode’ idea in my mind where Stan and Bill get framed by Faires that Bill angered a thousand years ago for a crime they didn’t commit, and Dipper and Mabel have to figure out how to prove their innocence, finding more about their Grunkles along the way, and also having to beat a fairy in a game of poker.

— Mabel at some point comes to the conclusion her “Grunkle Ford” had a bad breakup that he still hasn’t gotten over and makes it her goal to help him through it. This is part of her summer mission. It comes up frequently. It’s ridiculous I know but what is Gravity Falls without a generous amount of both angst and utter silliness.

I’ll probably leave it at that for now! But if you’d want more or have any specific questions, I shall do my best. I’m still figuring out some stuff too so input will be helpful.

[ckret2]

Chapter 70 of human Bill Cipher pretending he's not the Mystery Shack's captive for ten minutes:

This happens!

Whoops, sorry, zoomed too far in.

This happens!

Way more important and exciting.

####

Bill lasted—based on the sun's position—about a couple of hours before this body's needs knocked him out of his meditative mindset. He sat up with a sigh, checked his tanlines—the stripes he'd drawn across his abdomen were already darkening into a nice, angry burn—and glanced over at the lake to see what the Pines were up to.

At the moment, Mabel was holding a foot-long wiggling, glittery, gold-scaled trout in a net and grinning proudly. Stan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pointed at her in excitement as Dipper snapped a picture of them. Stan opened a cooler for her to drop the fish in. Mabel's face fell, and she hugged the fish protectively. Stan's shoulders sagged; but after half a minute of unsuccessful negotiations, he relented and pointed at the lake. She dumped the trout back in the water.

Bill clicked his tongue in disappointment and muttered, "If I'd thought they'd catch the golden trout, I would've told 'em that thing's like the holy grail to the Fishmasons." Stan probably would have insisted they keep it just so they could get something on Eugene. Bill wasn't emotionally invested in their feud; but the trout did grant three wishes. Bill could use that kind of power.

Oh well, he could tell them later. Maybe they'd get lucky and hook it again. Bill got to his feet. "Hey, old lady. I need to stretch my legs." Stretch his legs, look for entertainment, and forage for food—they were planning to be out here all day, but there hadn't yet been a grocery trip to properly stock his new fridge chest and he didn't trust Ford's nutrition pills, so he'd only brought along a bottle of hot sauce and a bottle of sprinkles and hoped he'd manage to find some food once he was here. (And if he didn't find any—well, at least he had hot sauce and sprinkles.)

"Okay," Abuelita said. She turned a page.

He put his slippers back on, dug his condiments and eye patch out of Abuelita's bag—his eyes were getting tired—put on the patch, and scanned the beach. "Hey. Looks like somebody's grilling hot dogs over there."

Abuelita made a noncommital sound of minimal interest.

"Hot dog might be nice," he said. "Looks like the grill's a biiit over thirty feet away, though..."

"Okay," Abuelita said again.

"So." He waved his braceleted hand demonstratively. "Shall we?"

"Eh. I don't want a hot dog." She slid the enchanted bracelet off and dropped it in the sand.

Bill stared at the bracelet, then stared at her. "What, that—really? You're just...��really?"

"What am I, a cop?"

Good enough for him. "You're all right, lady." He wrapped the extra thread around his wrist, put on the second bracelet, and glanced at the Stanowar again to make sure the Pines weren't about to catch him off his leash.

The family was crowded around watching as Ford reeled in something heavy. He grinned excitedly as the hook dragged up a patch of soggy khaki fabric; and his smile vanished when his coat grabbed the boat with a furry hand. As the family scrambled to the far end of the boat, Bigfoot—wearing Ford's lost coat and a full set of scuba gear—climbed aboard the boat.

Ford punched Bigfoot in the face.

"Oh," Bill said. "Bigflipper. That'll keep 'em distracted for a while." Satisfied, he meandered up the beach.

He plastered on a bright smile as he approached the family with the hot dogs, veered around the husband working the grill, and walked right up to the wife sitting on a beach towel, eating a hot dog, and watching her kids play in the water. "Heeey, Wanda! What are you doing here! Look at you, you look terrific!"

The woman looked up at Bill from under her sunhat in bafflement. "I—hi? Sorry, do I...?"

"Sure, it's Goldie! Washington State! Fifteen years ago! We were in the same study group, remember? East Asian history? Honestly all I remember about the class is the other girls and that fifty percent of it was about Confucianism."

Wanda's eyes lit up, and then un-lit as she realized she still didn't recognize Bill. "Oh—heeey! Wow—sorry, guess I've slept since then."

"Don't worry about it, I'm just good with faces. Anyway, from what I remember," he jabbed a thumb toward the man at the grill, "at the time most of your attention was on Danny."

Wanda laughed again, a little more easily. "Right, god. I can't believe I made it through that semester with passing grades."

"Hey, you were still the only one in the group who could remember what order all those dynasties came in..."

Bill kept Wanda distracted for another couple of minutes with small talk about the study sessions he'd spied on out of boredom from a library stained glass window; and then, when he saw one hot dog had been set aside fully grilled and mustarded but as-yet unclaimed, he said, "But hey, I won't distract you anymore! Those kids look like a handful." While both parents turned to look at the kids, Bill snatched up the unclaimed hot dog, strolled down the beach, and called back, "It was good catching up!" That whole performance probably hadn't been necessary, he might've been able to time his loitering to swing by just as the hot dog was left unguarded; but it had been more fun this way. He didn't get to have a lot of conversations these days. Less where he felt like he was the one in control of the conversation.

He soaked the bun in hot sauce, dumped some sprinkles on the mustard, and took a bite while he glanced out at the lake again to see how the Pines were doing.

At the moment, Ford had Bigfoot in a chokehold from behind. Stan hit him with a right hook. Bigfoot kicked Stan in the chest with one immense flippered foot, and he tumbled backward into the lake.

Looked like none of them would be paying attention to anything on the beach any time soon. No need to go straight back to his cell. He scanned the rows of beachgoers sitting out by the lake, looking for fresh entertainment.

Bill's gaze fixed on one of the humans. One of these things is not like the others, one of these things doesn't belong. Amongst all the tourists in their swimsuits, one man—standing ramrod straight, dressed in a black suit, holding a heavy black device with an antenna—stuck out like a sore pale thumb in a pitch black bandaid.

An agent from the Bureau of Covert Investigations. The "eagles." The same guys that had covered up President Quentin Trembley's existence, a brief sightseeing trip Bill had taken to Roswell via nuclear testing-induced dimensional rip, and the miraculous and disgusting resurrection of cult leader/possession puppet Silas Birchtree; and, the guys that had been trying to find Bill's portal in Gravity Falls since they'd detected it in the '80s. Bill wasn't the eagles' biggest fan.

But they'd never been a big enough potential threat or a big enough potential help for him to intervene in their operations. In the mid '80s, when the lead investigator in Gravity Falls had been putting together his case, Bill had considered pulling some strings and manipulating them into taking over the portal from Stanley, before concluding they'd be more likely to disassemble the portal than activate it and it was better off in Stan's clumsy care. But all the same, he'd kept watch over their operations. 

And this, if he wasn't mistaken, was the lead investigator himself. Agent Powers. What was he doing here? Bill had thought the case was closed last year after Ford wiped their memories and sent them packing. Maybe Powers was here about Trembley? Depending on what the Pines had entered into the memory gun, the eagles might still remember that part of their operations in town.

Bill would kinda like to know where Trembley was these days. He studied the agent as he slowly finished his hot dog; and then he moved in.

"Hey there, agent!" Bill clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him start, and beamed brightly. "Welcome to town! What brings you to Gravity Falls?"

"Pardon?" Agent Powers gave Bill an appraising up-and-down look—threat assessment, probably—caught sight of his bikini top, and quickly looked him in the eye. "How did you know I'm an agent?"

"Oh, that's easy! I'm psychic."

Powers opened his mouth, paused, and then squinted skeptically at Bill.

"Just kidding. You've got an earpiece, a business suit at the beach, and the government's favorite car."

"Oh." Powers turned to glance toward where he'd parked. "Yes. I suppose so."

"Say! If you want a more covert vehicle, you oughta go to Gleeful Auto in town. You'll blend right in. Just tell 'em Mr. Locke sent you."

"Who's Mr. Locke?"

Right, Bill supposed he didn't look like much of a "Mr." at the moment. Humans didn't consider bikinis gender neutral for some reason. He took a split second to decide whether he'd get any practical benefits from trying to push past the agent's initial perception of his gender, and couldn't think of any. "Friend of mine!"

"Ah." Powers nervously looked Bill up and down again; then cleared his throat and glanced away, cheeks flushed faintly pink in the heat. "Right. Thank you, uh, citizen."

"No problem!" If Bill remembered his suits right, this agent was an easy target. Believed in "collaborating" with "local informants"; wasn't very good at the covert part of the Bureau of Covert Investigations. "You don't look like you're in town on vacation! Investigating anything interesting at the lake?"

"Well..." Powers flashed Bill a quick sideways glance before nodding vaguely toward a couple of people in dive suits further up the beach. "If you must know, we've picked up some evidence of the lake recently flooding its banks. Which is strange, because the amount of rain this area's received can't account for how high the water climbed..."

Not here about Trembley, then? "Flooding? Think there's any danger, agent? In our quiet, harmless little town?"

"No, no. Nothing like that," Powers said quickly. "But, I've said too much. I should go." He shifted his footing anxiously. He did not go.

What was that about? Bill glanced down at himself; he still looked perfectly human, didn't see anything that should make a government agent nervous. Was it the lack of shaving? Was that too Seventies Feminist for Mr. Government Suit? Was the eyepatch setting off his secret agent "Soviet supervillain in a spy movie" instincts? He couldn't have noticed Bill stealing a hot dog.

Should Bill press his luck? (Stupid question—of course he should.) "Say, you keep giving me these odd looks, agent! Anything you wanna say?"

His pink cheeks flushed darker. "Er, no, no ma'am. It's just, I uh..." He gestured vaguely toward Bill, "I... couldn't help but notice that your... sunscreen is a bit streaky."

Bill glanced down at his tan lines. Streaky? He thought the burn lines were coming out pretty crisp.

The agent went on, "I was wondering if you needed help applying it more evenly." It took a split second for him to realize what he'd just said; and then he went even redder.

Bill raised his brows. Huh. "Nooo, I'm great, thanks. It's supposed to look like that."

"Oh." Powers's brow furrowed in confusion. "All right." He nodded. "In that case, I really should be going, then."

"All right!"

But Powers hesitated again for a moment before finally moving up the beach away from Bill.

Well. Interesting. Interesting reaction.

He checked on the Stanowar again to make sure the Pines hadn't seen anything. At the moment—he squinted—they seemed to be playing poker with Bigfoot. He must not have liked Mabel's playing (unsurprising; she was an incorrigible cheat), because he picked her up and chucked her in the lake.

"She's fine," Bill muttered. "She's got her life jacket." They were good about that in this town.

He watched as Powers met up with the divers farther along the beach; and then he headed back to his towel.

####

Bill had decided his front was sufficiently roasted and was struggling to apply new sunscreen stripes to his back so he could flip over, when he overheard somebody say, "Oh hey, Toga Lady?"

Bill twisted around, already grinning in greeting before he'd even seen who was talking to him. "Heya!" It was Broken Heart and two of the others. Wendy's gang. Robbie, Tambry, and Nate. "What are you guys doing out here! You don't look like the beach types!" (In deference to the environment, all three of them had donned swim trunks and sandals; but that was as beachy as they'd gotten. Nate and Tambry were in black t-shirts advertising metal bands. Robbie was still in his hoodie. Robbie's legs nearly glowed white.)

"Hanging," Tambry said, one arm around Robbie's back and face glued to her phone.

Nate elbowed Robbie. "Dude, he's Toga Guy, remember?"

"Toga 'Lad' would be better," Tambry said.

"You sure?" Robbie asked. "Sh—he's kinda..." He gestured vaguely toward his own chest, realized that probably wasn't the best way to make his point, and finished, "uh... bikini."

"I don't want to spend my day arguing about whether I've got the right to go topless!" Bill got to his feet and planted his hands on his hips. "I could talk my way out of trouble with the police—it's the tourist parents I'm worried about." He pulled up one strap to examine his shoulder. "It's gonna ruin my tan, though."

They took in his tan in progress: several horizontal lines across his lower torso and upper thighs, a few disconnects vertical lines stretched between the horizontal ones. Tambry glanced up from her phone, snorted, and started typing faster; Nate said, "Dude, are you trying to make bricks like the triangle guy?"

Bill froze, mouth open. "Uhhh..." Sure, that was the objective—he just hadn't really expected humans to find it that obvious. Nosy little pattern-seekers. "I mean—"

"That's cool," Tambry said. "Stick it to the man."

Robbie had screwed up his face a bit, but at Tambry's reaction, he shrug-nodded and conceded, "Yeah, it's kinda punk, I guess."

Nate said, "Praise Bill or whatever, right?" He laughed. "Yeah, I thought about getting a tattoo of him. Up here or something?" He pushed a sleeve up above the snake tattoo wrapped around his left bicep to show the blank spot on his shoulder. "But my parents would flip if they ever found out. Maybe I should do the brick thing too, it's way subtler." Nate turned to the other two, lifted up his shirt, and said, "Hey Tambers, do you think I'd look cool with bricks around my waist?"

She didn't look up. "No."

"What if I got an eye on my chest too?"

"Let me think. No."

Bill watched this back and forth with wide-eyed stunned silence. Hold on. What? Praise Bill?

"Pfff, whatever!" Robbie rolled his eyes. "Hey, you're gonna regret getting a Bill tattoo once I get my sick symbol off the anti-Bill circle. It's like... giving me a permanent rock-paper-scissors win against you. For the rest of time."

Nate laughed. "Shut up, whatever man! The circle didn't even do anything."

"It would have! It was, like, glowing!"

"Heeey!" Bill stepped into the trio's line of sight again. "Right, yeah, praise Bill, by the way any of you wanna help me get my back?" He turned around to gesture over his shoulder. "Little favor between punk weirdos?"

"Yeah, sure." Tambry tucked her phone into Robbie's hoodie pocket and held out her hand for the tube of sunscreen. "Just continue the lines around your back?"

"You got it." Bill lifted his arms. "And try to keep the bricks evenly spaced."

"What is this stuff? Some kind of suntan lotion?"

"It's more like anti-sunscreen," Bill said. "By the way, you probably wanna wash your hands after this unless you want sunburned fingers." He wiggled his own fingers, which were faintly flushed from applying the first layer of sunscreen that morning.

"Hey, anti-sunscreen," Nate said, "you could call that, uh... sun-beam." He paused. "No wait, that's already a word."

Robbie laughed. "You're an idiot."

"Sooo," Bill said. "Is the triangle guy cool now? Not—not asking for any particular reason. Just curious."

"Oh, yeah," Tambry said. "Like half the school's decided he's our crazy anti-authoritarian counterculture chaos god now?" (Bill was adding that to his business card.)

Robbie said, "Somebody set up a shrine to him in a hollow tree stump behind the school. People started making animal sacrifices to him during finals week."

Nate said, "It's chicken nuggets and cafeteria tacos, but. Y'know. We didn't say live animals."

"Huh! Interesting!" Bill tried, unsuccessfully, not to sound too excited. He was hip with the youth. Who'd imagined! This was what he got for hanging out with the town's cops and politicans, he could've been exploiting this for a month. "But I think he prefers receiving gold!"

Nate laughed. "Dude, I'd prefer receiving gold, too. What we have is chicken nuggets and tacos."

"Fair enough," Bill shrugged. "By the way—if you want a Bill tattoo? The traditional style is to shave your hair and get his eye above your forehead, right here!" He tapped his skull over his brain's frontal eye fields. "It tells him right where to enter."

"Oh, sweet! That's perfect," Nate said. "I can shave, get a tattoo, and just keep my hat on until my hair grows back. No one will ever know!" (Bill tried to imagine hair growing out of his eyeball, and wished he hadn't.)

Robbie said, "Hey, weren't the Pines like... not letting you go outside because you knew him or something? That's what Wendy said."

That wasn't the story he'd told her. He'd have to find out where she'd picked that up. "Or something. It was more because of dumb academic ego-measuring contests than anything to do with that."

"So, they finally letting you outside alone now?"

"Only for group trips." Bill pointed out at the lake.

The three teens squinted toward the boat. "Whoa," Tambry said. "Are they arm-wrestling Bigfoot?"

"Oh, yeah. It was poker earlier."

For a moment, all activity ceased as the teens watched the battle out on the lake. Nate sat in the sand and propped his chin in his hand. Figuring Tambry was done with his stripes, Bill plopped onto his beach towel to watch as well.

Bigfoot defeated Stan, and Soos switched places with him to try next. Soos lasted five seconds before Bigfoot flipped him into the water. Melody scrambled to help pull him back aboard as Bigfoot pumped his fists in the air victoriously. Bill snorted.

"Bad luck," Robbie said. 

"I could beat him," Nate said. "Hey Robbie, think I could beat him?"

"Pfff, no."

"Bet Wendy could," Tambry said, recording through her phone as Bigfoot generously indulged Dipper and Mabel's attempt to take him on as a team. The guys murmured vague agreement with Tambry.

"Buuut anyway," Bill said, reluctant to let the conversation get too far away from himself, "yeah, I might've talked to the triangle guy a couple, several times."

"That's pretty cool," Nate said. "Hey, we oughta hang sometime, I bet Lee'd wanna hear about that. It'd probably drive Wendy crazy, but..."

Tambry let out a dismissive pff. "The triangle stuff's been driving Wendy crazy all year. She can take it."

"Not a fan?" Bill asked.

"Nah, she thinks the whole thing's creepy. Her and Thompson both."

"I think the whole cult thing's fine," Robbie said magnanimously. "As, y'know, one of the people prophesied to defeat him. If he ever really came back and caused trouble, we could handle it."

Bill tried not to roll his eye. Bold words out of a guy who, a couple of years ago, had left a plate of spaghetti in the woods to see if an "evil triangle" urban legend was true, and had thrown up when Bill dragged him into a dream state to show him just how true it was.

On Earth, urban legends about Bill tended to pop up and wither away in waves around the epicenter of his latest area of influence—like mushroom rings spreading away from a patch of ground they'd depleted of useful nutrients and left to die. Bill suspected the local urban legend Robbie had stumbled upon had been passed down in Gravity Falls for thirty years by teens misinterpreting Old Man McGucket's crazy ramblings about a "demon triangle" and "spaghettification."

He was always torn on whether to encourage or quash such urban legends: on the one hand, it was handy for humans to know he existed and was available for deals; but much less handy when they warned each other away from him. More than once, knowledge of him had nearly broken into the mainstream, and he'd had to put all his other plans on hold to focus on deflecting the whistleblowers' information into obscurity.

Apparently encouraging the spaghetti one had been the right move, if a year after his brief conquest of Gravity Falls the teens were offering him sacrifices rather than cursing his name.

Nate punched Robbie's arm. "Why would he cause us trouble? He's our chaos god, remember? We've given him offerings!"

"I like that attitude," Bill said. "Hanging out sounds fun! We'll... figure something out sometime." As soon as he found a way to make the Pines let him go outside without being surrounded by babysitters. Wouldn't that be humiliating, a full adult hanging out with teenagers and it's the adult who isn't allowed outside without a chaperone. No, that wasn't an option. If he came with an adult attached, they'd ditch him in a heartbeat for being too much of a drag.

The teens made their farewells and headed down the beach, Tambry and Robbie with their arms around each other again. Tambry wiped the anti-sunscreen off her hand onto the back of Robbie's hoodie.

As they went, they walked past Agent Powers—who was looking right at Bill.

Bill stared. The agent quickly looked away.

He didn't like that one bit. As he adjusted his position to lay face down on his towel, he said, "Hey, Dolores. You get the feeling we're being watched?"

"Hm?" Abuelita glanced up from her book toward Bill, then looked where he was looking. "Government." She made a disapproving noise and turned back to her book. "Nothing but trouble."

"You said it." Why was Powers so focused on Bill. He couldn't possibly be in any kind of trouble, he hadn't even existed until a month ago. And the eagles probably didn't know that, did they?

Nothing Bill could do about it in the middle of a beach trip. He propped his chin in his hand and checked on the fishing crew again.

In a fury, Bigfoot had ripped the motor off the back of the boat and lifted it over his head. The Pines family huddled together at the other end of the boat, trying to shield their heads.

A golden trout jumped out of the water, arced majestically through the air, and smacked Bigfoot in the face. Bigfoot stumbled backward and tripped out of the boat.

Hm. Maybe letting the trout go had been the right move. Bill shut his eyes and lay back down.

####

The sun was low and most of the beachgoers had gone home when the Stanowar chugged back to shore, battle-weary, disheveled, and dissatisfied. Except for Ford, who was wearing his sopping wet coat over his waders, holding one boot, and pleased as punch.

"Hey!" Bill shouted. "How'd it go!" He surreptitiously tossed half the bracelet over to Abuelita. She quietly slid it on.

Crankily, Stan yelled from the dock, "You didn't mention Bigfoot in a scuba tank!"

Bill shouted back, "Bigflipper wasn't there when I looked! What, did you expect me to check the entire spacetime continuum to find you the perfect fishing?!"

Faintly, he could hear Ford say, "See, I told you his proper name is Bigflipper."

Mabel repeatedly poked Dipper in the arm as they crossed the beach. Dipper flinched each time. "Ow, ow—Mabel. Cut it out."

"That's what you get for forgetting your sunscreen, bro-bro!"

Dipper's arms and face were bright red with a sunburn. "I didn't forget! I put it on at the beach, right before we left!"

Bill grabbed up Abuelita's empty water bottles and tossed them in the nearest trash can, along with the rest of his tube of anti-sunscreen before anyone could get a good look at it. He ignored the kids and said to Stan, "But it was a good fishing spot, right?"

Stan grumbled, but grudgingly admitted, "Yeah. Until tall, brown, and hairy showed up. We caught four fish! That's gotta be at least as good as the guys from the lodge, right?"

Bill winced. "Ooh. Sorry, they went by an hour ago with eleven fish."

Stan let out a roar of outrage and threw his fishing rod in the sand.

"Grunkle Stan, you don't go fishing to catch fish," Mabel said. "You go fishing to catch memories! Look at this!" She held up a bunch of photos. "This is a whole scrapbook spread right here! We caught sooo many memories."

"And my coat," Ford said. He was admiring his #1 Grunkle pen, which he'd taken from the coat pocket.

"I'd rather have fish," Stan grumbled. "All right, c'mon. Let's get..." He trailed off, looking past Bill. "Hey, is that...?"

Bill glanced back over his shoulder, and grimaced. Agent Powers and his protégé were watching them from the far end of the beach. Bill quickly turned back around. "Yep. Your old friends from last summer," he said. "They've been scoping out the beach all day. I don't know what they're here for—but you probably wanna get out of here." More importantly, Bill wanted to get out of here—but he didn't see any benefit to letting them know he was nervous.

"He's right," Ford said. "If they see us long enough to recognize us—and his memories start coming back..."

"Who are they?" Melody asked.

Soos whispered loudly, "I'll explain it in the car." Bill bit back the need to point out that whispering didn't make a difference as far away as the agents were.

"I don't get it," Stan said. "What are they doing back here?"

"You wanna go ask him?" Bill asked. Stan grimaced.

The Pines and Ramirez families piled back in their vehicles and headed out. Bill had the uneasy feeling that Agent Powers was focused on the Ramirez's truck as they left.

####

(How long have I been promising the Agent Powers plot, since like the May before last or something? Here it is!!

Next week, either we launch straight into the Powers plot, or I finally have the Axolotl chapters (it's chapters plural now) sufficiently edited and we do that first, because once we start the Powers plot there's no place for a break until it's over. Hopefully the Axolotl chapters will finally be ready by next Friday, but if they're not...... tough. It's fine though, you'll live.)

[icanseeyou2007]

HAPPY (late) 10TH ANNIVERSARY FNAF!!!

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

the background is all of the things that made me find out and eventually HYPERfixate on fnaf:D

i forgot that it was already the tenth anniversary!!😭😭 sorry this is a bit late-

a bit of a ramble below the cut if you wanna listen to me yammer on about my history with fnaf:3

i originally heard about fnaf around the time it came out. not by anyone online no no no, no gameplay footage, but one of my very close friends at the time gave me the WHOLE RUNDOWN and lore of the foxy x mangle/chica series. i was a bit scared (as i was a child) of the thought of killer animatronics, so i wanted to keep my distance. i would always go to chuck e cheese with them, and they’d always talk about how chuck is gonna’ come alive and stuff. it was funny. i still really like chuck e. cheese :)

but then around 2019-2020, i found those comic dubs on youtube of both the ‘ask goldie anything’ and ‘springtrap and delilah’ series i fell in love with both of them immediately! (little disclaimer i’ve heard of the stuff that the springtrap and delilah creator did- i do not support them!! but anyways, back to it-) my autistic ass 11-12 year old self was going wild!!! i would watch them over and over again. the springtrap and delilah comic dub was actually how i found out springtrap killed kids and stuff, i didn’t know the whole purple guy bit till later, but to say i was scared was an understatement- i remember hiding under my covers at night thinking ‘AH!! springtrap’s gonna’ get me!’ … good times. :)

when security breach was announced i was ecstatic!!:D i found out about 8bitryan and dawko a bit after that, then looking into the lore, all of the games, the rabbit hole, if you will.

i remember that christmas, getting my grubby hands on all of the games on mobile i could buy, playing them all as much as i could even if i was scared. it was great.

before security breach came out, i really loved fnaf vr. getting my hands on a vr headset and all just to play it for myself!! i was (and still am) a very big glitchtrap enjoyer! used to watch that one cosplayer who played as glitchtrap and would do those ‘glitchtrap looks himself up on google’ and ‘glitchtrap reads your comments’. can’t remember their name- it i find it i’ll put it here! but i loved it. still do!

i would go on vrchat for hours and roleplay!! i really liked (still do) funtime freddy, used to think i could do an impression of him and i would rp and stuff as him… simple times- it was so amazing. that’s how i’ve met some of my best friends, and both of my boyfriends! i would die without them<33

then when security breach came out- oh i was waiting down to the SECOND it released! i stayed up for hours playing it- so exited!! even though it has its quirks, it’s still one of my favorites from the franchise, its what got me into it- like, really into it.

then the pipeline of making my ocs— i had a whole world planned out in my head for a fangame. might revisit it one day. who knows?

but then we have the present. the fnaf movie (in my opinion) was absolutely wonderful!!! so exited for the second- have hardly looked into fnaf vr 2 and the ruin dlc, (i know it’s been a year-) but i’ll get to it. all fandoms have it’s quirks, but i still love it. thank you Scott Cawthon, and the fnaf community for being such a big part of my life. i would really be lost today without it.

happy 10th anniversary fnaf!

[five-hxrgreeves]

im dYIIIINGGGG with the adam warlock x quill sister! when he calls her 'little quill'??? with that accent of his??? so soft and husky??? im screaming at my phone dude aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i need part iii right freaking now!!!

PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader

POWERS: adapted from D.C.'s Stargirl, although in this instance, the powers are a part of you and the staff just helps you use them.

WC: 1.9k (woo a shorter one this time!) 

SUMMARY: your first meeting with Adam wasn't one that indicated that you'd become friends anytime soon. Your second meeting. . . wasn't great either. But, somewhere along the line, you would develop a soft spot for the curious man-child.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, badly written original fight scene, possibly ooc canon!guardians.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: OMG!!! This is my first-ever inbox message- thank you, anon! You made my day with this <3 I love Adam's/Will's accent; I definitely hope that we get to see (and hear) more of him in other Marvel movies. As requested, here's part three (even if it's technically part zero, lol.) I do take requests if anyone wants to send me stuff! (I just won't write smut, sorry!)

I hope you guys enjoy this part, although I'm not very confident about it since I'm terrible at writing fight scenes. It's hard enough for me to imagine original content (like the other two parts) but scenes where people move around a lot without the movie itself to rely on are very difficult for me because my mind doesn't think in pictures, but in words and I don't know how to describe fighting. I'm sorry if this isn't as good as the other parts. 😭

And on a side note, the 'no shit, Captain Sherlock' is another reference to space people messing up Terran lingo :)

Part 1 , Part 2

You were admittedly not in the best mood when you first (officially) met Adam. Peter and Mantis had left only days ago, leaving you to sort out your feelings alone. You were currently in the training room, fueling your sadness into anger at their abandonment. You often used your powers to aid you while you were fighting, but they weren’t much use during everyday life— unless you wanted to fly. Now, however, they were very useful.

Brilliant blasts of golden light shot out from the staff that your hands gripped tightly. While your powers could be used without aid, the staff helped you control them; Ego had made it for you when you’d become old enough to serve as his protector. Although you were disgusted with the weapon’s origins, you couldn’t help but agree that it made your fighting much more effective.

Each of your blasts hit the targets squarely in the middle as you turned deftly to conquer the row. A scowl was prominent on your face as you pictured each of your targets as Peter’s or Mantis’ face. (While you would never really want to hurt them, of course, the sting of their desertion fueled your thoughts.) You were listening to a playlist by the Rage Against the Machine— which you had chosen solely because of the band’s name as it mirrored your feelings. The music that was blasting in your ears was so loud that, if someone had been standing next to you, they could have heard the lyrics as if they were wearing your headphones themselves.

As you moved up and down the line of targets, you were unaware of the audience of three that had entered the room. Groot, Rocket and Adam stopped by the entrance to watch you unleash your fury against whatever enemy you were envisioning. The new leader of the Guardians gestured to you. “There. See? I told you she’s nice.”

Adam hesitated, clearly uncertain. “She looks mad.”

“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Shut up,” Rocket retorted, glaring slightly at the tree who was supposed to be helping his case. “She won’t hurt goldie. You’ve already seen her bad side, haven’t you? This is nuthin’.”

The golden boy had to admit that Rocket was right; he remembered only too well his first encounter with you as you’d jumped in to help your friends fight off his unexpected attack.

--

He’d just defeated the stupid tree-like thing and as it scuttled away like a demented spider, the faint sound of a whistle pierced through the air. An arrow shot out of nowhere, harmlessly bouncing off his skin and only annoying him more than anything else. He looked around sharply, but there didn’t seem to be anyone brave enough to fight him in the vicinity. “Hey! Who threw that?”

He scoffed when there was no answer, stalking towards where he’d last seen his target. But before he could get very far, a force came out of nowhere— this time much stronger than an errant arrow. It knocked him off his feet like a bullet and together they were sent flying through the town, which elicited more cries of fear from the citizens.

He landed harshly against a building that got in the way and debris fell on top of him from the force of the collision. Adam grunted irritably; this was the second time during this fight that his enemy thought that throwing him into a building would be enough to deter his attack— didn’t they ever learn? He stood and shook the dust off his clothes before he strode back out to the street to face this new opponent. Except— it wasn’t the same blue person from before.

The golden boy stared at the other person with disbelief, the only thing that he could come up with was: “you’re a girl!”

She scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Captain Sherlock.” She twirled the staff in her hands expertly between her fingers before she set the butt down on the ground. It glowed softly as it lit up with her power, her face set. “Let’s do this thing.”

Adam had no qualms about fighting a girl, so they charged at each other without hesitation. He thought she’d be as easy to take down as her teammates but when they collided, she merely used her staff as a shield against his attack. They paced across the open space as they exchanged blows, the girl using her staff offensively and defensively interchangeably. As she flipped neatly out of the way of one of his advances, he began to see how evenly matched they were.

“You are stalling,” he realized. “If you just hand over your friend, we would not have to fight.”

The girl paused, flicking some of her hair out of her eyes. “Oh. Well, in that case—”

She charged at him again, her staff catching on his uniform. She followed him into the air and her swift kick to his stomach sent him tumbling away from her. It was then that he realized that she could fly— just like him— and that was what had powered her initial attack. In the time it took for him to recover from the spin, a blast of golden light was sent his way. Because of his more durable skin, though, the light only felt like volts of electricity rather than something that could do actual damage. The most effective part of her power was the blast itself, which he had to fight through to get closer to her.

Now that he knew where her power came from, he made to attack her staff in order to knock it out of her hands. She seemed to sense his plan— Adam figured most people she fought went this route— and she countered this by trying to fly above him to push him towards the ground. He responded by grabbing the staff in her hands directly while she was mid-swing. The girl was tiring slightly, her breath becoming shorter as the fight went on and she was now on the defensive.

She tried to yank her staff loose from his hold but as evenly matched as they were, he was still stronger. The girl then attempted to shake him off by lighting the staff up with her power. If he hadn’t been such a strong opponent, the golden light would have burned through his hands. As it was, the little volts were barely something that he registered. While he could have easily swung the staff to send her flying off the end and into the ground, he held back the true show of his strength as she didn’t seem to be as resilient as the two blue people or the tree.

Instead, he tried once more for the diplomatic route: “you have fought valiantly for your little friend. If you surrender him to me now I will leave your village in peace.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed with fury as she continued to fight to free her weapon. “Go to hell!”

Adam sighed, having partially expected that response. “Very well. Have it your way, then.”

He smoothly jerked the staff from her grasp and carelessly tossed it to send the weapon spiraling towards the ground. He turned back towards the girl to finish her off as he had her teammates, but he paused. She seemed to hang, suspended, in the air as time appeared to freeze around her. Her eyes widened and, for the first time since he’d encountered her, a look of fear appeared on her face.

Then, she dropped like a stone.

They were very high off the ground by this point and the fall would likely kill a normal being. He wasn’t sure if she would survive, so his reflexes kicked in before he could really think about what he was doing.

By now, the shock had worn off and she fell through the air, she reached up to him as he was the only person who could help her. Adam put on a spurt of speed to try and catch her but she was falling faster than he had anticipated. The girl slammed into the ground and lay still just as he landed next to her. He told himself that saving her wasn’t his mission, and her incapacitation only made obtaining his goal easier. His mother’s orders echoed in his mind, so against his instinct he turned away from her in pursuit of the squirrel.

--

You felt a tap on your shoulder, startling you. You whirled around with your staff in a defensive position only to be met with the sight of your teammates. With a sigh, you pulled out one earbud but didn’t pause your music.

“What?” you asked shortly.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Little Quill. I’m ya superior now,” Rocket replied, unaffected by your attitude. “I wanted you to meet golden boy here.”

You gave Adam a once-over, ignoring how the sight of his. . . attractive features made your stomach curl pleasantly. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

The boy in question shifted uncomfortably, feeling once again ashamed of his previous actions. Before he could say anything, Rocket spoke again, adjusting the straps of his jumpsuit as he did so: “well, I ain’t great with humie ages, but I figured ya’d be about the same. I thought it might boost team morale to see ya two hangin’ out together or whatever humies your age do.”

While your first response was to dismiss the whole endeavor— you didn’t want to get close to someone else just to have them leave you, too— but a small, traitorous part of your mind whispered: he saved your brother. Another part chimed in: he’s not bad to look at.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “He can stay, but he better not get in my way. I’m not stopping my training because of him.”

“That’s the spirit, Little Quill,” your captain said, choosing to not acknowledge your reluctance. “I’ll leave ‘im in your hands. Let’s go, Groot.”

As you shoved the earbud back in your ear, you could faintly hear Adam’s protest: “wait! You’re not leaving me here, are you?”

While Rocket’s reply was drowned out by your music, the boy’s words hit you unexpectedly; it sounded just like your response to Peter’s and Mantis’ disinclination to stay with the Guardians. Some of your anger faded as you glanced at the boy who stood awkwardly in your periphery. Despite all of his strength and power, Adam looked a bit like a lost puppy and his expression made your features soften against your will. Fine. Whatever. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice.

You took out an earbud again. “Well, don’t just stand there. I know you can fight, so let’s see you use those skills.”

At the reminder of your first encounter, he sent you a guilty look. As he stepped up next to you, he said quietly, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. For almost killing you.”

You patted him on the arm companionably. “Hey, no hard feelings. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last, so just add your name to the list.”

All of the Guardians had forgiven him with surprising readiness and it seemed like you were no different— only, you were. His gaze stayed on the spot where your hand had touched him. There was a lingering warmth as if your hand was still there, the sensation sending tingles (not unlike the ones that he felt during your blasts of power) through him.

Taglist:

@repostingmyfavs , @trashpenguin

[goldenstrwbrry]

WELCOME SWEETIE PIE!!!

Helloooo my fish people, I am Golden! A mere totally normal strawberry artists who is excited to be in tumblr (after so many years,,,) and wanna just enjoy my time here!

I have a silly spam account where I post doodles and wips ! @strwbrries-n-screams !!!

I love talking to people and WILL ramble. DM if you want! i have my boundaries but i dont bite! I will post and reblog anything i like and will try to get some stuff organized.

FAIR WARNING!!!

I am an adult and while I will not post myself suggestive content NOR nsfw content, it is possible I will reblog some suggestive content, I will never reblog nsfw, but keep that in mind if you are a minor!

BUT ANYWAYS!

WHO AM I?????? HELLO??? (things about me)

The name's Golden or Goldy!

I am a 19 year old artist!

MEXICAAAN 🌮

He/She/They!!!

VERY gay and VERY enby (fem leaning non binary)

Taken !!! ( 🍳 & 🦊 )

WHATS ON MY HYPERFIXATION????? (my likes)

Bunny Maloney (and OCs)

Minecraft OCs

Bee and Puppycat

Pressure (and OCs) (current hyperfixation)

Gravity Falls

KinitoPET

Smiling Friends

My Little Pony

Marine life OCs

Cats cats cats kitties pussy cats cats

OCs in general

The Amazing Digital Circus

Steven Universe (and OCs)

Some Object Shows (and OCs)

FIve Nights at Freddy's

Sonic the Hedgehog

Andy's Apple Farm (maybe)

AND many many more i cannot remember!!!

WHAT DO I DRAW???? HUH??? (my art)

My OCs most of the time

Friend's OCs

Random's people OCs

Art Trades/Design Trades

Fandom Fanart

WHERE AM I????? (my socials)

@golden_strwbrry ON INSTAGRAM AND DISCORD AND BLUESKY !!!

ANYWAYS i hope to have a good time, find cool artists and maybe some mutuals and friends??? and also ofc share my art!! and thats it!!!

[grayson1996]

Just a little ficlet I thought up! ***

“I miss my mom.”

The admission was quiet, but Dick saw Jason’s head snap up from his phone, gaze indiscernible as he surveyed Dick. Probably trying to figure out what brought the confession on.

“Ok.” Jason said it like a statement, but Dick could hear the question in it.

“I miss how warm her body felt when she hugged me. I miss being able to bury my head into her stomach and breathe her in…. I miss breathing her in. I miss having a mom and knowing what it’s like to be loved by someone unconditionally. I miss growing and having her there to notice.” Dick got quiet a moment, a little unsure if he should continue sharing, but he felt the need to anyway. “Sometimes I miss being the youngest. My cousin was a few years older than me, all my friends at the circus were. Hell, even the Titans were. I miss being the one cared for. You know?”

Dick saw Jason set down his phone and turn to face Dick head on. After a moment Dick turned as well and matched his brother’s gaze. The confusion that was there making way to understanding.

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Dick felt himself relax slightly at the reassurance, closing his eyes he sunk deeper into his living room couch that the two were currently occupying.

“I miss wearing clothes that weren’t replaced as soon as they got holes. And I miss dishes made with cumin and cinnamon. And I miss my dad. God, I miss him so much. He was so calm Jay, he always smiled, he always knew that things were going to be ok, you know? He sang all the time, and no one sings here.” Dick felt his throat close at the realization, not even realizing all this was weighing on his heart until he let himself feel it. “No one sings here, and sometimes I forget about all them. It’s like my life is on auto-pilot and I just don’t think about it. But then I remember and it’s like my body is ripping itself open from the grief and I can’t... I can’t- just”.

Jason shifted in his seat, pulling Dick toward him as he started to get worked up. Breathes coming out quicker than intended. Dick let himself be manhandled into an awkward sideways hug. Unsure of where all this was coming from. For a moment it was quiet as Jason held him until his younger brother let out a heavy breath.

“Sometimes I miss my old apartment. Stupid, you know? The place was filled with water damage and mold and my Ma and I shared a shitty lumpy 20 year old mattress that should have been torched years ago…. But it still was mine, and now it’s gone.” Dick felt Jason shrug, arms still wrapped around him.  “I think what people forget is, that to be human is to find the good memories in bad. It’s how we go on. That’s why everyone says grief is a gift, it means you loved someone so much that you get to miss them.”

“That’s stupid.” Dick muttered defiantly, grinning slightly when Jason laughed. “Grief isn’t a gift, it’s the cost of getting to love.”

“Careful Dickie, your dangerously close to sounding cynical and that’s my shtick.”

“I didn’t say it was a cost I was unwilling to pay.” Dick pulled himself back, leaning onto the side of the couch to face Jason once more. “I just wish I had more time to save up before I had to cash in.”

 Jason nodded, leaning back himself, though still watching Dick with a careful eye.

“You don’t talk about this often.” Another statement, one Dick knew to be true. He never talked about his parents, not since his current family started to grow.

“Bruce never talked about his parents, for awhile I think I thought grief was locking away memories until they faded into existence. When I realized that wasn’t the case you guys were here and I didn’t want to bring them up in case you felt like… I don’t know… I didn’t love the family I had now?”

Jason stared at him dumbly for a moment.

“That’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said Goldie and that’s including the time you tried to convince Wally, B was a vampire.” Dick snorted at the memory, which Jason smiled at. “Remembering what you lost doesn’t negate what you have, and the adage that time heals all wounds is misconstruing. It doesn’t mean the injury stops hurting, hell your fucked up knee acts up every time it so much as showers. Just because something isn’t actively gushing blood doesn’t mean its fine, doesn’t mean you don’t still need to take care of it.”

Dick let out a heavy breath, he had forgotten how intuitive Jason could be.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“Course I’m right, I’m the only one of you fuckers who consistently reads books without pictures in it.”

Dick pushed him roughly but without any heat, dodging the pillow Jason tried to lob at his face in retaliation. For a moment the two tussled, feeling younger than they had in a while. Only stopping when a wayward elbow sent Dick’s lamp thudding to the floor. Slightly out of breath Dick nudged Jason with his foot, the joviality making way for genuineness.

“Thank you. For letting me talk about them.”

Jason gave him a small smile, one without the useful veneer of snark.

“Anytime.”

[anundyingfidelity]

400 followers ask

Adam Warlock and reader with the sunshine x grumpy dynamic, the reader is someone dangerous and very powerful that none of the other heroes want to get close to due to her reputation and her history, but Adam ignores it and in the end they fall in love 😩✊❤

long time i don't write for adam so yesss! hope you like this, i tried my best for a grumpy x sunshine dynamic for this one hahaha

event guidelines ✮ event masterlist ✮

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

I'M NOT IN LOVE — Adam Warlock x female reader

Word count: 689 (got carried awaaayyyy).

Genre: fluff.

Warnings: none I can really tell?

When Rocket and his team broke you out of your prison, he quickly understood why you were locked in the first place. A woman, captive of a crazy sorcerer who just held you as nothing more than a pet on a dirty planet, who was rageous and powerful, capable of destroying a star. That’s what the old man said to them.

Rocket was a fool and didn’t take his word though. Not until you tried to blow the ship going back to Knowhere, or when you tried to escape destroying miles of half built homes, or the countless times where you broke something with your super strength.

“Alright, stay here, witch,” Rocket ordered, taking you with Nebula’s help to a new place you’d call home for now. Behind his small figure, Adam followed closely in silence but intrigued by you, who seemed to completely ignore him.

“I’m not a witch!” you fumed, moving your arm away from the tight grip coming from the purple robot. “Don’t touch me, scum.”

“Nebula, stop,” the raccoon uttered as she stepped closer to you, ready to punch your face. She grunted and left the room, passing by the Sovereign.

Rocket continued. “We don’t wanna hurt you-”

“Then why take me here?! I never asked to be part of your stupid team!”

Being locked for so long had its effects on you, Rocket thought. That day he warned everyone to not be close to you since you were extremely dangerous, but Adam didn’t understand the captain. He had a second chance with the Guardians, it was fair to do the same thing with you. Under Rocket’s suspicious eyes, Adam got his approval to visit you and help you to the real world.

Contrary to the team, Adam was different. He saw pain and fear in your eyes that mixed with your powers made you a dangerous being, but a beautiful one nonetheless. He was the one who introduced you to the terran culture and their music. With it, Adam discovered the sounds of some songs would calm you down and he’d come to see a new sweet side of you. 

“Play it again,” you whispered, as you shared an earphone with Adam on the roof of your place in the middle of a somehow cold night. “I wanna hear it again.”

Adam beamed, doing as you said. The psychedelic melody started anew. “You like this song too much,” he teased.

I'm not in love

So don't forget it

It's just a silly phase I'm going through

Your brows furrowed, clearly annoyed. “Is that a problem, goldie?”

He just chuckled. “Not at all. Stop furrowing, it’s a joke.”

And just because

I call you up

Don't get me wrong,

Don't think you've got it made

Still you narrowed your eyes at him, with that angry face of yours. Sometimes you took so literal anything that escaped his lips. It was cute. Under the light of the city he admired you completely. Yes, sometimes you were a little mean to him and the team. Still you tried because of him. Adam was a very special person for you. But you wouldn’t admit it easily. 

I'm not in love, no no,

It's because…

I like to see you

“Okay,” you whispered finally, your features softening as the song played. It made you feel calm, at peace. Something you didn’t remember feeling before. Now after Adam came to your life, things were sort of different. You could feel it as much as Adam. He was bright, sunny, while you were totally the opposite of that.

But then again

That doesn't mean you mean that much to me

You locked eyes with his own, noticing he had been observing you long before. You sat so close together that you could feel the warmth of his body, contrasting the coldness of your own. He leaned closer with eyes closed, and as scared as you were, you let him kiss you softly on your lips. A quick peck on your lips before he pulled away.

“Sorry…”

You smiled, cheeks flushed. “Don’t.”

 It was the first time he saw your smile.

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #30

The Battle of Big Wand

Part 4 of reacting to this episode (spoiler-free)!

I LOVE that we get to see so much of Foop's spindly fingers in this episode. The way he wiggled his fingers was one of my favorite body language quirks back in the OG series. He's the same person...

Uh-oh... Dev's starting to have second thoughts now that people are getting hurt... And Irep doesn't like it...

I think it's REALLY funny that Irep's hair looks blue when he's in good lightning and black when he's in dim lighting. Not sure if that was intentional to mimic both his parents' hair and his old curl, but that's super clever if it was.

/record scratch. "So, you're probably wondering how we got here."

Irep remembering why he prefers working alone.

Fascinated by the choice to portray Irep tucking his hands behind his back. It seems to be his thing while his parents lean into the OG show's style of holding their hands like stubby chicken wings. I've been thinking that this whole episode... I have random memories sticking out to me from OG series; I'm gonna look it up.

- Oh, interesting... He does it in "Playdate" (dressed nice and trying to fool Cosmo and Wanda into believing he's rehabilitated after Abracatraz), "Love Triangle" (flirting with Goldie on the playground), "Timmy's Secret Wish" (bragging about being a lawyer), "Two and a Half Babies" (pretending to be a good boy for his teacher at the end so she'll let him go to summer camp), "Terrible Twosome" (swaying Poof to mess around and pull pranks), and maybe others, but that's enough looking. - I guess it's just his thing! That's cool; I don't think that was a gesture I paid much attention to in the OG, but he's done it a lot in New Wish. I think he's happy he lost his stubby arms.

I'm OBSESSED with Dev's realization that he and Irep aren't business partners if Irep doesn't listen to his feelings as a partner. He's gonna realize he didn't listen to Peri, and he's gonna want him back!! They're gonna work it out! ... Hopefully with a mediator!

I like how Dale went from 0 to 100 in paying attention to his son as soon as he realized Dev was capable of business deals. He's not being comforting, but he's interested in talking business.

Dale is one of the funniest characters I've ever seen in my life. Not necessarily for the things he says, but for the commitment to the bit.

His swagless looks, nonexistent charm, and extreme amounts of oddly specific lemonade trauma have captivated me. I desperately want to look at him and say "Huh?? Who invited THIS guy??"

Hands down favorite part of Dale's design is the enormous puffer jacket he wears despite the fact it's obvious he's still super scrawny. But I also like how his child design ALSO has the exhausted lines under his eyes in "Nectar of the Odds," which I'd just assumed were invented for adult Dale until I took another look. Also, on some bizarre level, I feel like Dale has actually recovered remarkably well for a guy who spent 7 years tormented underground in servitude? Is he generous with his money? No. Does he have friends? No. Is he kind to his son? No. Is he capable of resting between projects or just taking breaks in general? Also no. Can he handle people messing with his schedule? Absolutely not. Is he keeping tabs on his abuser to ensure she doesn't wreck his or his son's life? Nope. But does his hard work bring him happiness? ... I don't know :'D But he's good at getting things done when he sets his mind to it, he can host a killer event, he's heavily implied to have amazing robotics skills, and he has insanely quick turnaround on his marketing plans, so he's got that going for him. -> Dale will look at stuff and say "Is anybody gonna hyperfixate on that?" and not wait for an answer. "Self-made" lemonade boy, my beloved... If we get a huge plot twist that Dale is the creator of the Vicky-themed robot babysitters from the "Channel Chasers" epilogue, would that be nuts or what? Me: Wait, what are all the symptoms of hyperfixation again? Lemme look this up... Me: Me: ... Good to know! (It was all of them. All of them are the symptoms)

The Dale ramble I wrote here got so long that I moved it to its own post. I hope you like my shirtless "Dale bad at being on his honeymoon" doodles <3

I'm glad Dale seems like he's doing okay and that Dev didn't bug him with lemons (or throw him down in the dark pit that swings shut from the top, even though that would've been so easy). I think I was right in that I'm probably making a bigger deal out of his backstory than the show intended, but I think it's hilarious.

I do have a history of going for characters who give me "Okay, but where else can I ever get this character / this dynamic?" energy. He's one heckuva guy. I need to put him in a 'fic and shake him up and down like a snow globe. I desperately want him to find out he accidentally hired his abuser to babysit his kid. I hope it was an accident, because if he's kept her number in his contact list, I'm gonna have a talk with him.

I wish we'd see Dale doing "angry at Hazel" stuff. I'm confused as to what the purpose of it was... Are we not going to touch on that in the finale? Was it just to upset Dev, but not vital enough to follow through with as an actual plot point? hm.

-> ?? I feel like it was a big deal in at least two episodes leading up to this big finale plot, so I'm just... surprised? Hm.

I guess I'm not really bothered because I don't think Dale knows Hazel came to Fairy World or that she'll appear again, and I understand why his attention is diverted, but it'd be fun (for me).

Also, this is our second time being robbed of a Dev-Irep sleepover D:

omfg, Irep ditching Dev for Dale is the funniest thing ever.

oh no.

Alone again...

sdlkfj, Wanda has spent this entire series taking shots at Dev because she thinks he's a bitter bully and she kept saying things to Peri like "Blink twice if you need help getting out of here."

I remember posting years ago about how I like to think Cosmo's really good at reading people (especially when it comes to distracting them, like encouraging Jorgen to "scramble the Fairies" in "Abra-catastrophe" before he can separate them from Timmy).

So... I really enjoy that he senses Wanda's going too far and might lose any chance of Dev helping, and he tries to stop her.

oh no... I like how when Wanda is telling Dev about dying from magical back-up and she uses the example of a fairy feeling queasy and needing to use the bathroom and then they explode...

... because that's how the Grim Reaper told Foop he'd die back in "Man's Worst Friend" ("Oh, this is fun! You're gonna perish on the toilet!"), and I've been thinking about it ever since I saw Peri dying on the floor.

I headcanon them dying young, but not THIS young!! /jk

Wanda, I have good news for you! I'm pretty sure that guy you think is dead isn't dead. Pretty sure I saw him when I took my screenshots of Anti-Fairies taking over Earth and (ironically) the memorial scene at Fairy Con.

Irep when the alarm goes off cracks me up. There's no point in posting the screenshot because he's tiny and blurry, but he's so spooked. His eyes take up his entire face. RIP overly sensitive bat ears and weak bat eyes.

Oooh, Jasmine singing is going to do something. Are the Anti-Fairies going to enjoy it despite other characters thinking she sings poorly?

Yes. lol. I was going to theorize in my 2nd post for this episode about whether Irep is still really affected by music, but I didn't bother because I was like "I can't imagine that would come up."

oh no, he is. Not enthusiastically... but he is. Love that for him. This kid's always loved to dance and play loud music. Never change.

oh no!!! They're exploiting Irep's one true weakness...

Diversity win!! The genderfluid bisexual has a gender-neutral response for nonbinary folks he thinks have bad boy energy!!

sdlfjk, I think Irep just found the person he most wants to godparent for. Ever.

I checked "Certifiable Super Sitter" again just in case I missed a bad boy joke, and I totally forgot Sammy screams "Break Vicky like a 2 x 4!" at the top of his lungs while he mimes snapping her neck. He's so funny. I love him. I wonder if Foop ever told Sammy about his "Scary Godcouple" trauma and if Sammy was extra ruffled about Vicky because of that.

Peri: I don't understand what you see in Sammy. He's so... mild. Irep: Not after I talk to him ❤️

okay, nerd.

......... Did Foop have a crush on Goldie back in "Love Triangle" because she has major femme fatale energy?? Discuss.

omg, just realized the reason why Irep's single eyelash felt so familiar to me is because that's how he looked in "Blue Angel." Absolutely hilarious that when he opts for a feminine disguise, he has fewer eyelashes than usual.

- Poof and Foop had 3 eyelashes per eye when they were young, but Peri's lost those, and Anti-Cosmo doesn't show lashes. Jorgen's New Wish eyes don't either (Jorgen wore mascara in the OG series) and neither do Cosmo's (Cosmo also liked make-up) - I ?? have to assume that means Irep is deliberately going for a more femme, nonbinary, or genderfluid vibe of some kind, which is perfect for me! His gender identity is one of his plot points in the 130 Prompts. - Can't believe all those years ago, I clocked Poof as growing up to be "the one suppressing trauma with candy and soda" and Foop as "the one who plays with gender expression" ... I know it's not stated by canon, but you get me...

??? I like how Anti-Wanda seems to be teaching Anti-Cosmo how to make his eyes look in different directions and he's loving it? Unclear.

I also like how with his accent, it sounds like he's saying "Hazel-y," which is cute. I like how he made the effort to find out her name; that's 100% in-character.

They are doing their best!! (They are not)

I like that when confused, Anti-Cosmo's instinct was to turn to Anti-Wanda for advice. That's new for him considering he used to shake her and scream. I'm glad they worked that out. And I'm glad he's exactly as "extinct by instinct" as he's always been <3

Apparently Irep (or at least Foop) gets the "spelling out unnecessary details" bit of his dialogue from his mom??

Like, monologuing important info is one thing, but in the OG series, Foop elaborates on things for no reason, like Anti-Wanda here. lol.

I was kind of worried about the direction Anti-Wanda's reboot might go. I believe what I said was, "I'd be interested to see her redesigned with new clothes and with a reduction on the "Anti-Wanda's stupid" angle in favor of mirroring Wanda better (owing to how I've always felt she was a hasty design slapped down in Season 2 and then they couldn't go back on it when Wanda's character developed further). Anti-Wanda's hit every mark I was hoping for in a rebooted design for her. She's still Southern and goofy, but she's not being played as stupid... She and Anti-Cosmo are equally silly and equally dumb and messing around <3

sdlkfj, Anti-Cosmo out here like "This isn't my party, so I'm down to follow my wife's suggestion that we slip from the room together."

Okay, other nerd; I'm glad you're excited to be alone with your hot wife as you definitely try to catch a real human running around.

ALSO very in character; man LOVES forgetting what he's doing and wandering around!! That's his thing!!!

Me out here like "Oh yeah, now I remember why I wrote a 'fic where no one looked for the captured Anti-Cosmo for 77k years because his family totally thought he'd gone wandering and dissociated and started a new life... oh no.

[the-bitterest-breakups-poll]

Poll: Round 1c #4

[Image ID. An image of Scooge McDuck and Goldie L'Gill from Ducktails 2017, and an image of Cavendish and Dakota from Milo Murphy's law. End ID]

*Reminder that Break up is being used loosely here and not all relationships may be romantic in nature

Propaganda under cut:

Scrooge and Goldie:

Scrooge McDuck and Goldie O'Gilt from Ducktales 2017, who keep going on and off and who the fuck knows for centuries until Goldie can be less of a selfish backstabber for once. This happens because of shenanigans involving Ponce de Leon, a Franken-baby, nasty pool water, and swordfighting, because this is Ducktales we're talking about.

Cavendish and Dakota:

They have two break ups during the show. The first is during the Christmas episode, where during a work Christmas party they argue over who should have eaten the last egg roll. This leads to them falling out so badly that they don’t speak for 20 years- during that time, Dakota becomes famous and successful but is very regretful, while Cavendish becomes, and I quote: “an old man with unfinished business.” They both end up breaking dozens of time travel laws to go back in time to try and stop their past selves from breaking up. They figure it out eventually. Remember, this was all over an egg roll. I just really need to hammer in that they broke up a decades old friendship/relationship/whatever it is they’ve got going on over an egg roll.

and then, more related to the actual plot of the show, is their multi episode break up in s2. They have an argument, and Cavendish decides to use a device on Dakota to wipe his memory, so he can leave to go investigate aliens. Dakota is very unhappy about this, understandably. He teams up with Dr Heinz Doofenshmirtz to try to find Cavendish, and ends up having an argument with him because he isn’t Cavendish. They make a Cavendish-platypus hybrid to help them “get into his head”. Meanwhile Cavendish ends up getting himself trapped in an alien ship. They have a nice reunion when he gets rescued.

[iphoenixrising]

Something God/Messanger of the Gods/WhattheFuckEvenIsThis, HowIsThisMyLife au

I refuse to lie about it. This? Totally got the idea from a yaoi. 

**

From the Heavens, the Father of the Gods looks into the seeing waters at the realm of mortals. The young man with a soft smile, raven black hair, and shockingly violet eyes draws Bruce’s sighs, his son long denied him.

A promise to the boy’s mother while she carried their halfling child, that he would allow their son twenty-one years on Earth to live among other mortals. Once he came of age in their world, then he could be told about the Gods and brought into his power.

The more his three other sons clashed nowadays, it’s become obvious the boy is sorely needed.

Alfred, his second-in-command of their heavenly armies, stands by his right hand, watches the boy smile at a customer and hand over warm beverages humans seem to enjoy.

“He is certainly your blood, Sire,” Alfred comments idly, wondering how the mortals could be so dense as to not see the blatant appeal of the boy behind the counter. His face, while handsome with his father’s strong jawline, is pale with otherworldly beauty. His eyes shine with peace at every person that steps up to speak with him.

“Indeed. It is finally time for him to come home and take part in his birthright, old friend.”

Alfred turns away from the half-God they’re observing, “it has been a long time coming, hasn’t it, Sire?”

For a moment, the Father of the Gods, the former Titan, Bruce, looks sadly at the boy, hands fisting on the edge of the seeing water’s cradle. Even stone here in the Heavens would crumble under his fists.

“It is beyond time, my old friend. It is time he comes home.”

**

He is back to sitting on the throne when his three sons answer his call.

Dick, his firstborn, the God of Rebirth and Renewal.

Jason, his second born, the God of the Underworld.

Damian, his youngest, the God of War.

When the three appear before the massive door to his throne room, their voices echoing, the surge of pride in them fills his chest to near overflowing. His sons all grown into Gods of valor and might.

“Damn, Goldie,” Jason teases, a salacious grin at his brother’s normal tight body suit perfectly outlining every salacious inch. He pinches the material between two fingers, a contrast to his sharp, black, three-piece suit and the Demon’s intricate armor. “Betcha get all hot n’ bothered when it’s time ta hunt, ya feel me?”

Dick just snorts at his younger brother, knocking his hand away to sweep the taller God up in both arms and hold him off the ground.

“I know that just means you missed me, Jay. We haven’t seen each other since that last fight in the Underworld, when those underlings tried to overthrow you. We made a great pair, remember?”

Damian removes his helm, rolling his eyes at the antics of his older siblings, tries to remember he is the bright one of the family. (Even though he would obviously say Barbara is the smartest and Cassandra the most fearsome.)

“Yeah, yeah. Good ta see ya, too. Now pum’me down.”

“Aw, you’re no fun anymore. Where’s the snarky little hellion I used to give noogies?”

“See, that’s what policin’ damned souls does ta ya, yeah?”

Grinning behind his hand at their bickering, the Father of the Gods stands from his throne, strides down the white and gold steps, waves a hand to open the massive gold doors to his throne room to take in each of his sons into his arms, warm to his core at how well each still fits into his embrace even all grown up.

“Not to worry,” Bruce interrupts their banter. “Your sisters will see to everything while you are gone.”

He has their attention, and sighs, palming the side of Dick’s face, ruffling the white streak in Jason’s hair, and finally rests a hand on the back of Damian’s neck.

“Gone?” Damian’s immediate reaction is suspicion because Father gives the utterly worst tasks. 

“Barbara can handle being the Goddess of the Elements. Cassandra will make a formidable Goddess of War, and Helena will… enjoy taking on Goddess of the Underworld.”

“Not likin’ th’ sound’a this,” Jay straightens, slides his fingers over the lapels of his suit, smoothes out the lines. 

“If this is anything like the last few adventures, Bruce, you can just send someone else–“ Because, yeah, Dick has other things to do than run all over the place on another crazy God hunt. 

No thanks.

But rather than use the usual methods to gain their agreement, their great Father instead… sighs.

“The truth, my sons, is that I have called you all here because this undertaking is of the utmost importance. I can trust only you three, no others.  But, more to the point, I don’t think any but all of you together can accomplish it in time.” And it’s jarring to see the Father of the Gods look sad, tired, worn in the way of mortals. “In many ways, I am…torn that you will learn the truth in this manner, but come! Let me show you instead.” He leads them to the viewing pool where Alfred stands idly watching. 

The younger Gods crowd around the delicate bowl seemingly grown from the floor, full of the prophetic waters, a gift from Barbara.

For Father to need them like this, a task only his first sons could accomplish, they’re all a bit breathless wondering what this could possibly be. 

“A mortal?” Dami sounds less insulted than surprised, staring into the image in the waters. “A mere mortal, Father? It takes thousands to wage a decent battle.”

A second glance when Jason’s eyes narrow, when Richard leans further over the waters, licking his lips, and Damian pauses, tilts his head to be certain he is not imagining it.

A blink, a glance at his enraptured brothers, and the gentle glow about the mortal man, the curve of his pink mouth in a welcoming smile, the vibrant blue-violet of his eyes, the curve of biceps and shoulders, the way he merely moves is –

Mesmerizing.

“He ain’t a mortal. Can’t be. N’ I’d know if he was one a’ mine masquaradin’ on Earth,” Jay leans his forearms down on the water’s vessel.  “I can letta demon be beautiful, don’t geddit wrong. But that sweet lil’ innocent is something else entirely, ya feel me?”

“But he’s in the mortal world,” Dick reasons, looking back at what he assumes is their next prey. “He functions like he belongs there,” he gestures to the man taking money from customers, talking with a soft grace, a kindness they can feel through the waters without hearing a word.

“He should not be,” Damian’s hands tighten on the vessel, delicate gold and white creaking with the strength of it. “Mortals cannot see what he is as we can. They could–“ cause him harm, take him, own him, almost leaves the God of War’s lips. He balks at that line of reasoning, but still, his mouth waters in anticipation, his eyes cannot look away.

The Father of the Gods nods sagely, a worn sigh raising his chest, “unfortunately, he has borne many burdens from living in the mortal world. Some that would have broken a lesser creature. But, as you can see, my sons, he remains steadfast.”

Dick hums, still watching as the mortal is now apparently taking a large stack of cups from a plastic sleeve and putting them back down on some kind of holder. Seemingly ordinary as they come, but if this is the subject of their father’s attention, there must be more than meets the eye. As the eldest, he’s very well aware of their Father’s tendencies for a good, dramatic quest.  

“As much as I enjoy watching him,” and that is no false statement, not with how beautiful and soft and sweet this mortal absolutely is, “what does he have to do with us?”

Their Father breathes in sharply, “the matter is…complicated. What I want you to do is bring him here before me. I wish to finally see him with my own eyes.”

All three of his sons straighten, yell out denials of such a thing.

“It would kill him!” Damian raises a fist.

“Ya know a mortal can’t take alla this,” Jay waves a hand in B’s general direction.

“It would be kinder to end him with one shot,” Dick’s tone is flat, but he unconsciously positions his body between the viewing vessel and his great, powerful Father.

And Bruce, under the angry eyes of his sons, looks away. “It’s true he is mortal, but… he is only half.“

And now the boy’s ethereal beauty, softly glowing aura, the very subtle allure is answered when his sons look back, and their want for him doubles.

(A halfling. A mixture of man and God that could be a spectrum of delectable creatures. Most were brought to the Amazons for safe keeping, as the eventual maturation into their power as a divine event would surely give them away to mortals and other less ethical Gods. In a word, a truly earth-shattering awakening.) 

“This is why I can only entrust what must be done to the three of you.” Bruce looks between them at his long-missing son, long separated from him, and back to his beautiful Godlings. He pulls at the strings he knows are connected, “Only another God can bring him into his power so he is strong enough to stand before me. But, he is…unique. A single God cannot do it alone, but the three of you together. You, my sons, may be strong enough to awaken him. As it is, I fear another could come upon him first…and possibly takes him for themselves.”

As he predicted, Jason’s eyes narrow, a deceptively casual flip of his fine suit coat. Damian’s mouth raises in an over my bleeding corpse sneer, hand hovering over his sheathed weapon. And Dick arches a brow at their Father, arms crossed over his bare chest. While he absolutely sees through his Father’s ploy, he can’t help the throb in his veins to hunt, catch, keep when he thinks about any of his fellow Gods or Goddesses coming upon this apparent halfling before they do.  

“All right, all right,” Jay flips a half-assed salute, “we getcha, B. Ain’t gotta be a manipulative asshole ‘bout it.”

Dick snickers because well, it isn’t a lie.

Their great Father shrugs a shoulder, “I’m giving you the evidence you need to understand how important this is, Jason. This halfling is…special. Even I do not know what power he may bring forth once it is his time to awaken. The water itself will show no further future for him,” and an arm gestures to the view of the mortal. 

All three of his sons noticeably perk. Nothing like a good mystery to reel them in.

**

It’s a totally normal, sane day. 

And you know what? That’s nice once and a while.

With the tips he got yesterday, he’s going to be able to make his rent on time and being, you know, not homeless really is a thing worth celebrating.

Steph hands him the next order, and the two of them move around one another behind the counter in that comfortable way when you work so well with someone, it’s like the two of you share a brain. 

When it gets busy in the evening close to closing time, they get a nice little rush of people to close out the night.

They’ve got ten minutes, but most the machines at καφές (or ka-feys) are already cleaned and ready for tomorrow morning’s shift. Steph is whistling behind the counter while she counts out the tip jar, smoothing out wrinkled bills and cashing out the change for more dollars.

“It never fails,” she bemoans while he wipes down the back counters, “we make bank any time you are front and center, Timmers.”

His face gets pink where she can’t see and he scoffs for appearances, “people like seeing you more than they like seeing me, you know.”

“The bouncy, energetic vibe doesn’t always do the trick. Apparently the boy-next-door Hallmark type really does.”

He turns, clearly offended here because he works out when he can, was a gymnast in high school and everything!

He’s not a Hallmark throwback, fuck you very much.

“This is why I hate you.”

“Lies. You love me,” she makes kissy noises while he rings out the bleach rag and carries the bucket back to empty in the kitchen sink. 

Toss of the day rag in the dirty bin, wash up a few remaining dishes while he hums to himself, stoked about having enough in tips to splurge for a pizza with some left to go into savings for the someday when he can go back and finish college.

He thinks about his lonely little apartment buried in a tenement building a few blocks away in the infamous big city. Just one more sad story in a building of sad stories trying to make the next day count. 

If anyone had asked him five years ago where he’d be on his twenty-first birthday, this probably wouldn’t have been the answer.

The bell chimes with incoming, and he groans to himself as he’s on way through the swinging door, wondering which machine he’s going to have to dirty up to make whatever this asshole–

(The three men at his counter immediately zoom in on him, three sets of incredible eyes make him pause a moment, and luckily not melt into a proverbial puddle on the floor because this trio of man sandwich? Are the most breathtaking men he’s ever seen outside of a magazine, movie, or tasteful porn. He finds his heart picking up, beating harder in his chest, his face getting warm, his mouth watering when a quick mental flash of clothes on his bedroom floor is just the birthday gift he’s been waiting for.)

-wants.

Tim puts on his best how can I help you smile with his pulse thudding dully in the back of his mouth.

“Welcome to καφές,” and Steph totally appears magically by his side, like her inner wingwoman instincts called, staring at the buffet in front of them. “What can we make for you?”

**

Jason, Damian, and Dick.

This feels like a joke somehow.

It’s a joke because all three of these god-tier hotties seem to be…flirty? Kind of super obviously?

Steph sighs as she makes the Americano, watches Tim over her shoulder as he rings up the customers, and the one with the smooth accent literally puts a $100 bill in the tip jar.

In the tip jar

Without looking away from Tim.

The younger one has attitude for days, but he’s putting on the charm when he asks for Tim’s name (c’mon, we have name tags) in a low purr, and what would Timothy suggest for someone who likes light and sweet, hands on the counter close to Tim’s in a perfectly casual way.

The leaner one, who has an ass that could be considered out-of-this-world-hot, literally puts a hand on Tim’s, nodding with attentive eyes while Tim gives them the specials of the day (for the third time), and Steph comes very close to burning the shit out of herself while making his latte.

(They are so obvious. Tim what are you even doing right now? Why, whyyy isn’t her best friend telepathy working RIGHT. NOW?!)

They’re from out-of-town, on some business, and know nothing of the sights. Would he happen to be from Gotham? Could he suggest a nice hotel where they might get accommodations?

It’s right then. Right. Then.

She has to do something.

Because they? Are best friends. And she is invested as hell getting him laid. 

(After that awful break-up with Conner last year, he hasn’t gotten back on the proverbial horse. And this? Is his opportunity of a literal lifetime.)

“Tim! Could you help me just a minute–“ is sweet and soft, her smile warm and welcoming. “If you guys wouldn’t mind having a seat over there, Tim can bring your drinks in a jiffy!”

The looks are absolutely sinful and even her sweet best should be picking up on the UST less than a foot away from him.  She bites the inside of her cheek at how pink his face is when their customers finally take a few steps away from the counter.

She pulls him back around the set-up to the sinks by one wrist, almost hopping up and down with excitement.

“Wh-what did you need help with? Did the espresso machine go down again?”

“Are you fricking kidding me right now?” She whispers furiously, “Tim. Timmy. Honey. Sweet Summer Child. You are going to listen up and do exactly as I say.”

Now he’s rolling his eyes because something is definitely coming that he isn’t going to like.

“You are going to take out their drinks, and tell them you know a perfectly nice hotel not far from here. If they seem interested, you’re going to tell them you’d be happy to give them directions or maybe show them where. Le Grande is only a few blocks away, and you might have a chance to be the jelly in that sandwich.”

“Are you serious?” He deadpans. “They’re just…being nice. It’s late, they want coffee,” he shrugs awkwardly, “you know. Just really friendly people?”

“This is Gotham,” she deadpans back, “there are no friendly people. But they? Are so into you. Take their drinks, tell them you know where they can stay the night, a place with a nice bar and good reputation. If they invite you to have some birthday drinks with them, then, for the love of God, Tim, say yes. Maybe if you get a few in you, they’ll invite you to their room for a game of hide the salami. If they do, you’d better come back with stories for days.”

“I love you, but you make me crazy,” and he walks around to finish up the drinks, shaking his head with a grin. “C’mon, like I would even show up on their radar? I’m betting CEOs or Hollywood kept husbands.”

And now the game has begun. Steph goes around behind him to clean-up the mess. “Tallest is an underwear model. I’ll accept nothing less, not with an ass like that.”

“Unless they’re in porn,” he comes back with a lowered voice, chancing a glance over his shoulder to find the three beautiful men looking back at him from the only table still with chairs on the ground. 

“I can see it,” she returns with a laugh, “I mean. They are off the charts.” But she gives him the side-eye, bites down when he is completely gone.

And Tim doesn’t answer, can’t for the way his breath is literally taken away. His crazily eidetic memory spits out Damian when their eyes meet from across the mostly closed shop, Jason and Dick are talking low, glancing at him with flirty, interested smiles, but Damian hasn’t looked away, those green eyes incredibly intense. 

Like picturing someone with their clothes off, tied to his bed, third orgasm ruined, and the next one carefully planned out for the execution, kind of intense.

Damian licks his lips, making it obvious, while those eyes take a slow sweep down his body, and Tim can’t help the abrupt strike of heat that shivers up his spine. 

**

“He is more beautiful in person,” Dick says low in the old language. “Father was right to send us.”

Jason glances at their older brother, sitting back in the rickety chair with deceptive ease, the very picture of beg me to fuck you. For the last ten minutes, he’s been picturing that cute little barista panting under him, eyes dazed and desperate in the same breath. 

“Kinda begs the question howz he been able ta live with mortals like this. Someone oughta found ‘im out by now.”

Without looking away, catching the curve of cheek go pink with his attention, Damian smirks behind his hands. “Father said twenty-one years. Perhaps he was be-spelled as an infant. That would explain why he was forced to stay here with mortals rather than live among other halflings sired by Gods.” 

And in their world, curses are more common than one would think.

“If the spell had an anchor date, no one would notice him until the duration.”

“’S already hard ta take m’ eye off’n him,” Jay admits low, rumbling deeply in his chest, “gonna be soon if he ain’t already there, ya feel me, boys?”

Dick hums an affirmative, eyes narrow on their prey.

“Should we discuss an actual plan to bring him into his power?” Because Damian is already salivating for the man moving behind the counter.

Initially, Damian had been against father’s wishes. He was in no way prepared for the first glance in the waters, only slightly less enthralled now that he’s been in the mortal’s presence. His soothing nature, his song-like voice, the pink of his lips, the deep darkness of his eyes, the radiance and calm Damian felt immediately soothes something desperately angry that has always animated him as the God of War. 

In that moment, not having this man is unacceptable. He has every intention of joining Richard and Jason in bed with this Tim, aiding them in pleasuring this man over and over and over. The need is compounded after facing Tim’s easy smile and soft laughter. Damian finds himself hungry, arousal burning him from within, replacing the fire of his rage with something more primal. He immediately imagines that softly smiling face to be twisted with unbearable pleasure, bare and beautiful with his thighs over Damian’s shoulders, voice hoarse from moaning, crying, begging. 

All that in his mind’s eye while watching Tim’s moving mouth, imaging how he would taste. 

Dick’s mouth quirks when he catches the very intense vibe his youngest brother is setting off, sees their important assignment get adorably flustered. The other mortal behind the counter is talking with flailing hands and easy to read lips, his senses reach out with the wind to catch as much of their conversation as possible, gathering information on their prey. 

He smirks when the female mortal seems to be on their side. The hunt won’t be as difficult as he’d first imagined when he had answered their Father’s call. 

Jay laughs at their younger brother, “thought that one was obvious from how hard yer cock is in yer pants, Demon.”

The God of War doesn’t bother to look away from their eventual conquest, “tt. Crude as usual. Unlike you, I do not usually have a taste for mortals. He is the first I’ve come across to elicit this…reaction.”

Dick smirks when the female rightfully compliments his ass, tuning back into the conversation while he subtly watches their assignment come back around the bar and work the machines. He’s already formulating a plan, not counting on their individual power to simply overtake Tim with eye contact. Commands might not work either, but they would need to test it on him to know for sure. Jason’s usual seduction didn’t make Tim speechless with desire, Damian’s intimidating aura didn’t terrorize him or incite him to violence, and Dick’s mostly-feral predator vibe didn’t trigger Tim’s fight or flight. Come to think of it, their usual effect on mortals didn’t seem to happen to Tim at all. 

“Ta be honest…halflings like him,” Jay hitches a thumb in the direction of their prey, “are at least prepared fer what’s ta come, see, ‘cause most halflings are on Paradise Island with the Amazons. Gods n’ Goddesses can find ‘em there, n’ the Amazons keep ‘im all safe. ain’t like that until after a full God brings ‘im ta power. This?” and Jay gives a sweep of one hand to encompass everything, them, the mortal world, the coffee shop. “Well, this ain’t ‘xactly the precedent.”

“Surely, since he is still technically mortal, he is...fragile. How can we take him without killing him before his power manifests?”

Dick’s eyes narrow, “simple. He already has an aura of a godling. It’s only getting stronger, and will be more so as long as we are close. By the time he’s ready, he’ll be strong enough to take us.”

“I feel that,” Jason smirks a lil, crossing his ankle over his knee, chair facing toward the pretty thing just waiting fer ‘em. “He’s further along than any I ever felt not pantin’ under a God.”

Dami shifts slightly, rolls his shoulders back. “You say this as though he is ...different, Jason.”

“Come offa it, Dames. Why else would the big man hisself call alla us fer one halfling, eh? Like that ain’t so far under his usual, yeah? I’m thinkin’ this pretty boy might be Daddy’s dirty lil secret.”

Damian straightens, finally taking his eyes off their conquest to glare at his half-brother, “you believe our Father has lain with a mortal and born another child? This man?”

Jay shrugs a careless shoulder, “Only explanation as ta why he asked alla us ta be in on the deal. Way it’s s’pposed ta go, ya only need one God ‘er Goddess ta bring a halfling. So, why’s B called in the big guns unless he’s somethin’ more? C’mon, Demon. Unique my ass.” His forefinger makes a circle around their table, putting the bigger question out there.

“If he is half blood of our Father,” Dami’s voice goes low and thick, thoughts churning dark behind his eyes, “then taking him to bed–“

Jason laughs out loud again, eyes glittering in the overhead lights, flecks of jade in a sea of blue. “–is gonna be the fuck of yer immortal life, Baby. Anyone with ‘im is gonna ride ‘im like an animal ‘till he screamin’ an’ all that power is gonna fill ‘im right on up like a cup runnin’ over.”

It’s very obvious when Damian’s eyes dilate, slide back to their pending conquest.

Dick looks over at his middle brother with a frown, “don’t count your chickens, Little Wing. The hunt isn’t over.” He turns back to their prey, “we have him in our sites, but we have to actually catch him.”

Jason clicks his tongue, “I got it on good authority we can convince ‘im. I mean, ya lookit us lately? Mortals are all over me on any standard day.”

And, it’s not a lie. Of the three of them, Jason directly interacts with mortals the most. Whether in the Underworld overseeing punishment, or in his high-end nightclub in Los Angeles, Jason lives among mortals with Father’s blessing (as long as the Underworld is kept closed and the guilty submit to justice). 

“Well, we gave him a backstory, so the next step is having a den to secure him. Jay, that female mentioned Le Grande. Sound familiar?“

“Oh yeah, it does. No worries, Big Wing, I’m onnit,” and a salacious grin the working barista happens to catch. 

While Jason Todd now lives in the City of Angels, Gotham was always his first stomping ground. Whenever he wants a vacation from his nightclub or the hell loop management he’s got going on down below, he comes back to Gotham to live a little in the old style. He pulls a phone from his inner jacket pocket, makes a quick call, his voice low and hypnotic, watching as the female puts all their drinks on a small tray for the halfling to carry to them. 

He hangs up when the Penthouse is on the way to being prepared, any time Mr. Todd, and a slow smirk slides over his face while he imagines that pretty boy ready ta be debauched in all right ways, laid out against blood-red sheet in a very impressive bed, that pink mouth open and panting their names like a prayer.

(Fuck, he’s getting more powerful. We ain’t gonna have much time. He and Dickie share a side eye while their Dames gets caught further under this boy’s spell. Fer a first mortal, their lil murder muffin picked one hell of a time ta get a taste.)

“No worries, boys. Nest is gonna be swanky as fuck ‘cause I got standards n’ all.”

“I’m more concerned about whether it’s safe, Jay. I don’t want anyone else finding him for a while, at least not until he is able to go before Father.” Dick subtly watches their prey, keeping tabs on the beauty coming so close to his time. The faint power humming like an aura is a drug to any full God in the area.

“We can make him agreeable enough to keep others from finding him.” Damian waves off, unconcerned. “Once he is fully awakened, his stamina will increase exponentially. Then it is a matter of keeping him in bed long enough to acclimate accordingly.”

“Not if he’s immune to our sway over mortals, Little D.” Dick’s eyes narrow, his gaze turns shrewd, “So we are going to keep him agreeable by being on our best behavior and seduce him the right way, slow and gentle until he gives us some indication he can take…more. Everyone understand?”

The scoff from their God of War includes a roll of the eyes because this man is their spoils. Things like slow and gentle aren’t necessary when you are claiming what you’ve rightfully taken. 

Jason, however, smiles wide and white, “ya said the secret word, Dickie.”

(No one has to verify it is indeed seduce.)

“Just keep in mind. We’re here to help him, not hurt him. The sex is going to be fantastic considering how innocent he looks, but we’re also keeping him safe.” 

“The only true concern is Chaos. If any of them get a hint of him, we will indeed have a battle on our hands,” Damian idly observes, just the thought of what his Chaos Grandfather would do to this beautiful being makes his fists clench, makes fury find root in his heart where the the urge to claim what is his, theirs, grows stronger. 

Dick immediately straightens, has a second to shutter at the image of Ra’s appearing before this (their) mortal and seducing him out of his innocence, Ra’s keeping him chained to a bed with jeweled restraints, Ra’s taking advantage of his power, his body, his very essence.

Dick seethes just thinking about it.

“We’ve already found him,” Dick tries to keep his voice steady, eyes all for the boy laughing at the female’s antics, moving around the machinery with knowledgeable hands, “the plan is we keep him secure until he’s stable enough with his power to enter Father’s presence, then they won’t be cause for concern. Chaos cannot enter the Heavens. There, he will be the most safe.”

Jason and Damian both give him their attention.

“C’mon, Dickie,” is smooth in the way Jason can be, their bringer of punishments. “Ya ain’t tellin’ me alls yer thinkin’ ‘bout is keepin’ that lil piece safe? Wid’ an ass like that? Getting all pink just talkin’ the talk?”

Damian hums softly, “he will be exquisite.”

“Like I already said,” Dick smiles widely when Tim finally picks up the tray with a last few words to his co-worker who is cleaning the machines they just used. “The sex is going to be fantastic.”

 **

The three hottest men on the planet have unfairly low standards, or he’s being fed a line. Tim can’t really decide which.

Steph was just telling him to take them to a hotel in hopes they wanted him to come up for a drink. 

And that is literally happening here.

Right in his face.

After handing out their drinks, Jason’s low drawl (and God what that is doing to Tim’s brainpan should be considered a crime here) casually name drops the most expensive hotel in Gotham, just like so Timmy, we jus’ godda nice room there. It ain’t far, but ya could take us th’ easy way. Maybe come up fer a drink after yer shift?

“We would absolutely love to have a drink with you, Tim. A thank-you for staying open long enough to give us a place to orient ourselves in a new city.”

“I agree with Richard. We owe you quite a debt, don’t we? It is only polite we…compensate you for the inconvenience, yes?”

He knows his face is pink with what is absolutely nothing less than an invitation to a foursome with three gorgeous men he has a hard time looking away from. 

Their eyes feel like hands moving down his body, under his clothes, and in a crazy kind of way, he’s not having paranoid thoughts of kidnapping and human trafficking that could possibly explain why these men wanted ordinary, every-day, boy-next-door him.

His hand unconsciously tightens around the tray he’s holding by his side, “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think this-“ he makes a circular motion with his free hand, “is going to happen. You guys are, ah, a little above my level, and not in a bad way. The flirting is…nice. It’s been a while okay, and I’m weak, but whatever. Anyway, Le Grande isn’t far, so not hard to find, and I’m sure anyone would be happy with some of that um…compensation.  So, please enjoy your drinks and have a good night,” he gives him his professional, glad to help you smile, turns on his heel, and walks away without a backward glance.

(Even if he’s mentally facepalming himself to Mars the whole way.)

**

Steph is beyond disappointed. She’s literally radiating some kind of what the fuck are you thinking energy while they finish up with the machines, doors now securely locked, main lights out, and the night is finally over.

Their last customers took their drinks with a disappointed air and left not long after his little speech, casting glances at the counter where he was stocking things up while Steph watched them mournfully go.

She had about five minutes of incredulous ire, but he literally lays it out for her.

“What do you think men like that want with someone like me?” 

Knowing her, she’d be picturing him naked with a collar around his neck in some rich guy’s mansion somewhere, and she relents a little because yeah, he has a pretty valid point.

The streetlights glow softly in the night as Tim waits while Steph locks the door, and they walk the usual five blocks to her building. Talking about the end of the night is taboo by now, especially when they pass the street leading to Le Grande and just keep walking.  They talk about their plans for their next two days off–

(“I have a hot date.”

“Mmhm, Dungeon and Dragons, Tim?”

“What? Hello, D&D was so last year…. It’s Warhammer, actually.”)

– and Steph bemoans his fortune one last time.

(“But like, what if-“

“I don’t think I want to speculate. If I do, then I might realize that was a bonehead move.”

“Aw, Timmy. The next time hot guys flirt, give them the benefit of the doubt. You could have at least said yes to the drink.”

“Well, I am twenty-one today.”)

He waves, waits until she’s in the building before moving deeper into the Gotham night. He’s careful about staying in the shadows with his head down to avoid notice. It’s not great here in the Narrows, but he loves his place above the old theatre even if the rent is just this side of ridiculous, especially for this part of town.

Still, it’s always a 50/50 walking home. 

The several creepy alleyways between the shop and his penthouse could house just about anything, from a robbery to a shooting to kidnapping most nights, and he hunches further in his hoodie, keeps his head low. Against his better judgment, he’s thinking about them instead of the pitiful cupcake waiting in his fridge with a candle on top and ordering a fresh pizza.

He thinks about the humor in Dick’s eyes, and the interest in Jason’s. Not to mention how…intense Damian had been. He’s helpless to wonder if those gazes would be the same if they were all in bed together…

His face is suddenly a little hot, and he firmly decides he’s totally allowed to speculate about what-if he’d legit said something like, “a drink? That would be really nice actually.”

Yeah, that would have led them to a very nice hotel room with a minibar, and maybe some making out to start.

(He might be sitting on Dick’s lap once he’s had a few drinks in him, getting hotter with each new purposeful brush of hands against him.

Pressed up behind him, Jason would tip his head back for dirty, deep kisses, pulling off his mouth with an audible sound.

“Yer birthday, izzit? Well, me n’ my boys def’nitely gotch the perfect present f’ ya.”

Damian would lean in to talk against his ear, make him shudder in their arms, “It’s easy to unwrap, Timothy. I can promise you would enjoy it.”

And if he whines when Dick bites down on his throat, then only the three hottest men he’s ever seen would be able to say for sure.)

He’s completely into the what-if and is probably why his resident-of-Gotham-fight-or-flight instinct doesn’t kick in.

Before the man with the gun ever turns around to face him, Tim can tell he’s dangerous because he’s scared. Desperate and scared are such a bad combination.

But even if the man with the gun is desperate, the small family huddled in terror have so more to lose. 

Tim's eyes go wide because his night just changed forever, and his automatic reaction is to take a half step forward, to reach out a hand, to a "don't do this, please don’t do this," rolling right out of his mouth. 

He’s helplessly looking from the gunmen to the family pinned down in this dirty alleyway leading to his place and the theatre, heart throbbing in fear for the little boy in a nice suit clutching his mother and father with tight fists.

And something in Tim firms, cements, in the immediate, abrupt belief that this is going to end in his favor. Something inherent in him knows he has control of the situation. 

The gunman’s barrel is aimed dead center. 

(A killing blow.)

"You aren’t going to do this," something in him pushes and pulls, something that makes him so sure, so fucking sure, no one in this alley is going to die tonight. (But, his knees still knock with fear and adrenaline while his brain pan works in overdrive.) 

A shudder goes through the hand holding the gun, eyes he can't really see in the dark, narrow from below the brim of a dirty hat.

"Get lost, kid.” But the guy plainly swallows, sweat beading off the side of his face, muscles tight with strain. “This isn’t any of your business." 

Tim grits his teeth, doesn’t move forward in case he sets something off. "All of us can identify you, and you aren't going to get enough shots off to kill everyone, not without being noticed, even in this neighborhood." His eyes slide back to the family when the motion of the father pulls the small, blue-eyed boy behind them, shielding him. 

You are going to go home tonight, alive and together, Tim promises the little boy with his eyes. Everything is going to be fine.

(And if he could stop it from happening to that little kid with a trembly lower lip and three-piece suit because he got to go with his parents for a night at the movies, then he damn sure isn't going to run.)

"So you?" His own voice goes deep, dark, and from somewhere past all his own fucked-up pain and trauma (his past scars buried in grief and mourning and moving forward because for fuck's sake, there was nothing to go back to) . "Aren't going to hurt anyone." 

“You seem pretty fucking cocky, you little shit.”

“Only because you know I’m right. GCPD always has patrols here, so you won’t get far.” 

The gunman sneers, his arm starting to get tired holding up the shiny automatic. 

The mother over the gunman’s shoulder has a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and wet, but the small family is subtly shuffling slowly backwards. Tim gets it. He needs to keep the attention on himself, give them time to get out of the line of fire. "The way I see it, you've got two options here." 

He slides his wallet out of his back pocket, holds it up over his shoulder between two fingers. "Take this as a door prize and run. Or, try to shoot us, potentially miss because that .38 special is a piece of crap, and have a pretty nice cell at Blackgate for the trouble. Robbery is one thing, but murder? Definitely a whole different type of crime."

The father keeps slowly hedging his family back, trying not to make sudden moves while Tim keeps his wallet waving back and forth, keeps the motion so the gunman stays trained on him. 

The tension is palpable while he waits for the gunman’s decision, the next move, the next flinch, the resounding blam as the gun goes off, his pulse thudding in the back of his mouth even while he knows everything is going to work out in their favor. 

Take the wallet and run, he keeps thinking over and over and over. Don’t look back at them. Take the wallet and run.

A huff in the night between them, and the gun barrel disappears inside a ratty coat, the gunman darting up to snatch the wallet out of Tim’s hand and hightail it the fuck out of the alley.

Once he’s gone and the echoing footsteps fade, the relief is palpable.  The father lets out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank-you,” he tells Tim gravely from across the alley. He turns to scoop up the little boy, weave an arm around his wife’s waist, and steer them back toward the theatre and into the light. 

Tim, heart thudding in his chest, turns to put his back against the rough brick and mortar. His knees feel weak with relief and adrenaline now that the obvious surge in bravery (reads as stupidity, tempting a guy with a gun and all) has left him panting and shaky.  “Sure, it’s fine. Being shot in Gotham isn’t really a big deal.”

He’s pretty sure he muttered it to himself because the small family fleeing their almost-demise doesn’t turn. But the voices from the mouth of the alley gasp in outrage.

“What almost happened?!”

Tim jerks because he didn’t think anyone else was behind him when the gunman took off. Imagine his surprise when his customers are standing there staring at him with wide eyes.

“Shot?” Jay is already striding forward, hands all over the barista to look for injuries because dammit, were they too late and someone already got at him? 

Dick has a hand on Damian’s shoulder, pushes the youngest toward the running gunman in an obvious message before joining Jay at their halfling’s side. 

He notices how big those blue eyes are with Jay’s long fingered hands pulling and tugging and touching. He catches the pink in Tim’s face when Jay’s hands finally wrap around his hips, thumbs in the niches. Their prey is in their trap now, theirs to reel even closer. All they have to do is keep him cornered and wait for the right moment to strike.

“N-no, nothing, I’m fine, really!” Tim sputters, stepping back out of grabby hands, face hot with how strong Jason’s hands are. “I mean, that’s-that’s pretty standard for Gotham, actually.”

Dick has no qualms palming the side of Tim’s face, tilting his eyes up, using just a bit of influence in his tone when he asks, “still, did he hurt you, Tim?” 

“No! No, I’m okay. Situation defused. I just had to give him incentive to leave without firing the gun.”

Dick hums, thumb moving over the cut of Tim’s jaw. “He was dangerous. Standing up to him was very brave, Tim, but you could have been seriously hurt. I’m a little worried about letting you out of my sight with guys like him running around.”

Jay’s eyebrow arches because wow, Dickie. ‘At was nice. But even if he knows the oldest is trying to push, trying to make Tim fall under his spell, become more..open...to suggestion as Gods have sway over mortals. It takes Jason a second to realize their little mortal ain’t looking all dreamy-eyed n’ dazed with Dickie’s influence. 

Means, they’ve godda play this the way Dick said from the beginning. Tricks ain’t gonna make it easy fer any of ‘em.

Not that he’s got a problem chasing when they play hard-ta-get. 

“I mean, I made it this far in life,” Tim jokes weakly, breath shuddering when Dick’s thumb feathers over his lower lip. “I don’t – why were the three of you passing over this way? I know I gave you foolproof directions earlier.”

Instead of answering, Jay wants to give it a go, lets himself pours on the voice, “Ya look shakin’ up a lil’ there, Baby. Lookit this,” wrapping his long fingers around one of Tim’s hands, thumb rubbing over the softly beating pulse in his wrist. “Yer hand’s tremblin’. Might wanna come back ta th’ hotel n’ get a drink after all, feel me? Getcha nice n’ calmed down. Ledd’us drop ya off once yer better. Make sure ya don’t run inta no more trouble. ‘Course we want ya ta be safe n’ sound, don’t we?”

With the darkness in Jay’s eyes, the possessive hold Dick has on him, Tim can barely swallow, can barely catch a breath.

Luckily, his mouth catches up before his brain has time to process the logistics of where the hell did you come from again?

“I can’t, sorry. I kind of gave up my wallet when–”

“After what you went through, it’s our treat,” Dick soothes, his other hand itching to touch skin, “consider it a birthday drink.”

The two of them give a more overt push.

Tim sucks in a breath to decline, but when Dick takes his hand, the what-if in his brain pan flares to life again, and everything feels so much like fate or destiny. Like he was meant to say yes the first time and here he is getting some kind of divine do-over.

(Does he even believe in all that shit? Probably not, just his brain trying to help him get laid is more likely the case.)

Either way, how can he say no a second time?

**

The answer. 

He doesn’t.

In less than ten minutes, he’s packed between Dick and Jason in a booth at Le Grande’s very posh digs, a place he’d probably never see in his life considering only the Gotham elite had a place in the VIP lounge.

He’s nervously wiping the condensation off his drink, trying not to think of Jason’s massive thigh pressed up against his or Dick’s hand casually on his knee on the other side. Jay has some ridiculously tall beer, and Dick is sipping on a blue drink from a martini glass. Tim has a water with lemon since, you know, his wallet was taken and he literally has no identification to prove he’s of age.

Out of the dim, Damian stalks toward them like a sleek panther stalking prey, those jade eyes zeroing in on their table. With a smirk, he slides into the other side of the booth and holds Tim’s wallet between thumb and forefinger. He places it in front of their...night’s acquisition, already eyeing the barista’s soft t-shirt and jeans, calculating how fast they can strip him of the clothes.

Tim’s mouth drops open when he opens his wallet to find money and identification still there, “h-how did you…?”

“I am very persuasive,” Damian purrs over the music, “it is a gift.” He has a moment of satisfaction, recalling the thief’s absolute terror when Damian took on his godly form, full height with spiked armor and flaming sword, glowing green eyes behind his helm, ready to strike the criminal down with one mighty blow.

“Return the wallet and never seek to harm another soul as long as you remain on this mortal coil.” Was like ground glass, the flaming blade scant inches from the criminal’s nose.

He didn’t kill the mortal, hadn’t seen the point really.

Tim’s soft smile and awed, “thank-you, Damian.” made dealing with another pesky mortal worth the trouble. “Did you call the police? Turn him in?”

“Unfortunately, he threw your wallet at me and ran. I chose not to follow.” A small lie but Damian will take Timothy’s appreciation nonetheless. “However, I believe he will refrain from petty theft from here on out. You must have made…an impression.”

He gives Jason a side-eye to make sure his brother understood.

Before Tim could ask more questions, Dick winds an arm around his shoulders and cheers. “Great job Baby Bat! You saved Timmy’s wallet!”

“Of course, it was my pleasure to assist our beloved barista.”

Tim’s face goes warmer, even without a drink.

“All right,” Jay grins down at their little halfling, “now’s ya can have a drink wid’ us, yeah? Gonna celebrate turning the big two one in style, feel me?”

“Don’t worry,” Dick soothes, “we have a place upstairs if we celebrate too hard. Have to warn you, I’m a cuddler and I sleep naked.”

Tim doesn’t know if his face can get any more red.

While their little halfling looks about ready ta bust, Jay takes advantage of the distraction, motions to the cocktail waitress making rounds. She scurries right on up to their table, squints at Tim’s ID for a few minutes and then back at him. 

Dick orders a round for the table in a tone that is mesmerizing and she assures them she’ll hurry back with their drinks.

Tim only downs three drinks that night, but the soft buzz is nice enough to take the edge off.

He learns Jason manages a nightclub, Damian is a weapons enthusiast, and Dick apparently does some kind of contract work for environmental agencies. All of it is pretty vague and none of them go into detail as to why they’re in Gotham in the first place, or where they’re originally from. Instead, they ask him numerous questions about his life and his job. His parents and family (all of them long gone. He’s got Steph and Ives now). Why he stays in one of the most dangerous cities on the planet. You know, understandable questions if not a little intense.

While he’s pleasantly sinking into the soft feeling, the three men around him don’t seem to be affected by the alcohol in the slightest but are intently listening to him talk about his life.

(College was a pipe dream. Right now, he’s just keeping afloat, squirreling away every dollar he can for the inevitable move out of Crime Alley. One day his shitty laptop will be a state of the art system. One day, he’s going to get into social work or something to help other kids like him, so another doesn’t slip through the cracks to live a partial life. He’s rambling like fuck when he tells them this, keeps going past it without noticing the look passing between the three.)

Their attention is...odd. Nice but odd.

He hasn’t felt important to anyone since Conner broke it off, breaking his heart without trying to hurt him. Theirs was just another tragedy that is his life.

Jay disappears for a moment and brings him water when he declines another drink, not wanting to walk home with stumbles, not after that situation with the gunmen could have ended horribly–

The night changes when he admits he’s never seen a room in Le Grande, never been through the doors before tonight no matter how long he’s lived in Gotham, and accepts the invite up to see the penthouse. All of it happening so easily is terribly close to what he’d imagined in his secret fantasy, that his tongue doesn’t know how to say anything other than yes.

[nightmyst14-blog]

Regaining treasures Pt 4

HI everyone!! Its been a while since I worked on this. I apologize for that, i ran out of Golden Cheese inspiration to continue.

THEN BURNING SPICE UPDATE SHOWED UP- And it got be back into writing it.

I meant to post on Monday or Tuesday, but I got busy and forgot to work on it. This one is much longer than the others so, I spilt it into 4 and 5. I hope you enjoy.

Setting: Late at night in the Golden Cheese Kingdom, in Golden Cheese’s room. The queen was on the balcony, staring up at the night sky, holding an old jackal mask in her hands.*

Pure Vanilla: *knocking on her door* Goldie??  Its Vani. Can I come in?

Golden Cheese; Huh? Oh yes, come in!

Pure Vanilla; *walks in* Are you coming? The ritual is almost ready for moonhigh. Mozzarella and Smoked Cheese even promised to help us this time.

Golden Cheese: *not looking at him* Mhm… Good..

Pure Vanilla: *Confused* Golden Cheese? 

Golden Cheese: Hm? *she looks up* Oh sorry, Vani. Just.. thinking.

Pure Vanilla: About?

Golden Cheese;*looks down at the jackal mask, brushes over the crack in it eye.*

Pure Vanilla: *looks worried.* ,....I recognise that mask.

Golden Cheese: *looks * Y-You.. You do..?

Pure Vanilla: *nods.* Remember I sent a team to look for you months ago, remember? Olive was invited to be a part of that expedition team.

Golden Cheese: *chuckles* ..Right. I really liked that Black Raisin girl. Your daughter? I saw she had your symbol on her cape.

Pure Vanilla: *nods*  Mhm. Found her since she was a hatchling. But anyways.. She did tell me she befriended the gatekeeper of your kingdom. One with a jackal mask.

Golden Cheese; *frowns* …….Yes. She did, it was my youngest, Burnt Cheese Cookie.

Pure Vanilla: Ah right, that was his name. He does his job to a T, I was told. 

Golden cheese: *nods* Uhuh….

Pure Vanilla: and when he stopped your second-born for taking over, he was like your gate to protect you. 

Golden Cheese: *nods, hugging the mask tight*

Pure Vanilla: *notices* Goldie…?

Golden Cheese; My last child… He was the first..

Pure Vanilla: T-The first?

Golden Cheese; *Looks over* The first to fall…

Pure Vanilla: *Shocked, eyes wide* “You.. you mean…?

Golden Cheese: ..Yes.. he was the first body I found when I arrived. *she grips the mask tight* H-His body.. Broken and bleeding.. That a-awful army… giving a taste of their wretched power to m-my baby boy.. 

Pure Vanilla: *shocked*

Golden Cheese; *holds up the jackal mask* Under his broken mask.. All I could see in his eyes were FEAR… and GUILT… I .. I dont know what they did to him, but..

Pure Vanilla: *hugs her tight* its a shame.. He was a good loyal boy.. Even if he was only in your paradise when I heard of him… heard of … ANY of them..

Golden Cheese; Y-Yes… I love my treasures so much that I kept them from you all. From everyone outside my kingdom… because I was so AFRAID to lose them.. B-But.. In the end.. I still did.

Pure Vanilla: *cups her cheek* I know.. But you were trying to protect them, weren't you? Even if you were wrong, your heart wad in the right place. 

Golden Cheese: *nods* ….There’s another reason i'm worried.

Pure Vanilla: What would that be?

Golden Cheese: *Stares* My Soul Jam reflect daylight, hance why Mozzarella’s and Smoked Cheese’s revivals went so well. But Burnt Cheese.. He was created in Moonlight, which is harder for my light to reflect.

Pure Vanilla: So.. You’re say that… Something might go wrong?

Golden Cheese: N-No, I.. *huffs* Maybe…  I-I dont know…

*Olive soon enters the room*

Olive: Everything’s ready, your majesty.

Golden Cheese: *looks up* Oh.. G-good. We’ll be there in a second.

Olive: *nodded* Of course, the rest of us will be waiting. *goes to leave*

Pure Vanilla; ….Goldie?

Golden Cheese: *shakes her head* N-Never mind. Let’s just go.

Pure Vanilla: But Golden Cheese-

Golden Cheese: I mean it… I just want my children back..

Pure Vanilla: *frowns, sighs* …Okay..

*The ritual starts, Golden Cheese channeling her power and moonlight into the sarcophagus. Smoked Cheese was chanting spells while Mozzarella kept the fire lit. Pure Vanilla, White Lily, and Dark Cacao held the items towards the coffin as well, seeing it light up.*

*The Jackal mask glowed with the magic around it as it seeped into the sarcophagus, it too glowing.* 

*Once it was done, Golden Cheese practically fell to her knees, that power draining her of energy.*

Smoked Cheese: *worried* Mother!!

Golden Cheese: I-I’m fine! Just.. get the darn thing open!

Dark Cacao: *nods, prying it open*

Inside, laid a young man with long ankle length black and yellow hair.  His ears were pointed like a jackal’s along with a tail. While his bangs covered his face, they could see a large scar on his forehead, across his right eye. He laid there motionless, hands laying across his chest. He was bandaged greatly, his body able to lay stiff.*

Mozzarella: *having her Marzipan scan him, shocked at the results* His.. His body is fixed , b-but…..

Smoked Cheese: Is he..?

Golden Cheese: NO!! *pulls herself up to look at the body inside, shaking* Burnt Cheese?? Please, my little moon…. w-wake up…

Olive: *takes off her hat, head bowed* You majesties… I am sorry.

Golden Cheese; I was so close… *cries, * So close…. 

Mozzarella: *sniffles, leans onto Smoked Cheese*

Smoked Cheese: *hugging Mozzarella*

White Lily and Pure Vanilla: *looks at each other, nod* *They took a step closer to Burnt Cheese’s body, hands over his chest.*

Pure Vanilla: *Uses his healing magic* Hmm…

White Lily: *breathes in, uses Faerie magic*

Golden Cheese; *sees this,goes to get up* W-What… What are you-?

Dark Cacao: *puts a hand on her shoulder* Let them work…

*After a few minutes, they soon stop, panting due to being out of energy. White Lily places a hand on Burnt Cheese’s chest, soon feeling it rise and fall slightly*

Mozzarella: *Reading the scans again, gasps* A-A pulse!!

Golden Cheese: *looks up* Really??

Smoked Cheese: *sniffles, smiles* he’s still here…

Pure Vanilla: We must move him to the medical bay. 

Dark Cacao: Yes, he's still alive. But he hasnt awoken. He must be monitored.

Golden Cheese: *flaps her wings* Yes, please!! Let's go!!

[cherrygummycandy]

Family Outings (and all the victims that come with them).

A Goldilocks and the Three Bears crime family x reader

(An: First time writing in a while, feels pretty good to be writing again. Not sure what direction I'll push this is, probably some slight romance with Goldi or Baby Bear. Also, above is some cute theatre promotional material of the family movie night! Enjoy!)

🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻

"Eye of newt, tongue of, of... ugh!" You slam the small vial of repitilian eyeballs down on the oak table, leaning back as you place your hand on your forehead, trying to calm yourself down. hurrying over to the bookshelf, you toss hurriedly search, haphazardly tossing book after book behind you in search of the one you needed. A leather-bound journal, with gold fittings lays against a dusty candle-holder. The label reads 'Hellica Mellica; Ancestra Magica'. Grabbing it quickly, you return to your workspace, and plop down. Flipping to the chapter on transmogrification, you read quickly, attempting to remember what ingredient is missing from your brew.

"Tongue of Goldfish, of course!" You exclaim.

🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿

"Move it, you mug!" A blonde haired girl yells, pushing a small bear forward. "I'm tryin' alright? This scents hard to track, n' you don't even know who were supposed ta' be tracking!" The small bear snaps back, the odd necklace around his neck rattling as he whips around to face his sister. Two larger bears trail behind, chuckling at the scene before them. "I know who were supposed to be tracking, Baby. Just not any specifics..." Goldie says, raising her walking stick up above her and smacking it against a tree branch, knocking down a shiny red apple. It lands in her palm, and she bites into it with a grin. "Oh, can you get me one, Goldie?" The bear with a fancy hat asks from behind. "Sure thing, mum." Thwack! A second apple falls.

"Remind me dear, what exactly is your brotha' sniffing out?" The largest of the three bears asks. "Spellbook, Papa. Centuries old one, at that. Guess it belonged to some big witch back in the day." Goldie says. "A-a witch? You mean like the one that put them' kids in that oven?" Baby bear squeaks, before getting prodded forward by Goldie's staff. "Please, Hansel and Gretel killed that witch, didn't ya read the story?" She sighs "Besides, that witch is long dead. We, dear brother, are tracking the scent of her house." Baby tilts his head in confusion. "Wait, how am I tracking a house?" He asks. Goldie shrugs. "I guess she set some sort of enchantment on it, attracts little animals, so she can put em' in her brews." She raises her hands up, hands mimicking claws, an evil grin on her face. Baby shivers, and turns back to facing the path ahead. "Goldie, luv, stop scaring ya' brotha." Papa bear scolds, ruffling her messy curls with a paw. A claw snags, pulling a lock and making her squeak. "Papa!" "Sorry!"

🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿

Eyes narrowed in concentration, you focus on the task at hand. You attempt to steady your hands as you slowly ladle your transmogrification potion into a small vial. After a few moments of slow pouring, the vile is filled. "Yes!". Popping a cork into the top of the vial. "And not a drop spilled." You cheer, giving yourself a small little thumbs up in a nearby mirror. You set down the potion-filled glass, and move to dispose of the unusable leftovers at the bottom of your small, hand-held cauldron. You carry it outside of your cottage, sloshing the disposable material over your herb garden. The herbal paste and eyeballs should make a good fertilizer. Dunking your cauldron in the well, you scrub gently. As you remove the cauldron from the well, you look down at your reflection. You contemplate your image for a moment. You frown. It's you, but don't feel quite like yourself.

For years, you trained, studied, and dedicated your life to the teachings of your mentor, the all powerful witch who lived in the cottage before you. Admittedly, when a small orphan stumbled upon your cottage, she was tempted to eat you. However, she decided you'd be more useful alive, than in her stomach. She wasn't warm, or kind. You cringe, remembering the daily beratings shouted at you from throughout the cottage, as you scrubbed, swept, and polished every part of the estate. Once, you had even tried to copy one of her potions, and she never let you live down the disaster that followed.

"You useless little witch! Ruining my cottage, touching my cauldron!" She had screamed. "You want to explore magic so bad, fine! Be my guest!" From that point on, she not only increased your chores, but had made you help her fulfill her orders. It started small, but occasionally, when she felt cruel, she had made you attempt harder, more dangerous things. These always went horribly wrong, and you found your self-confidence diminishing, day by day. Now that she's gone, you still do the occasional spell, enough to sell and get by, alongside baked goods. Still, you haven't even attempted the hard stuff again. Looking down at your reflection in this well, you see that same child. 'Maybe I am just a useless little witch...' You chuckle sadly. You turn to head back inside, only to be met with the end of a wooden staff pointed mere centimeters from your face. You gasp, but the girl at the other end moves it closer, silently threatening you to remain quiet.

🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿

"Ello' there." A blonde girl stands at the other end of the staff, a smirk on her face. "You live ere'?" She asks, gesturing with her free hand to the cottage behind you.. "Y-yes..." you nod. "Ya' don't look like a witch." A voice comes from behind her. You attempt to peer behind her, leaning to the side a little. You hold in a gasp when you see three large bears looming behind. "I'm not a witch, not really." Goldie looks behind you at the cottage. "Then why do ya' live in a witches cottage?" She asks. "And she's holdin' a cauldron!' The smallest bear adds. "My mentor used to live here, I just sorta... stayed here when she died." You admit. "Oh, the poor dear..." The medium sized bear coos. You're a bit taken aback at this behavior, but smile nervously at the mother bear. "Ugh, not now, Mama!" Goldie waves her free arm, as if scolding the bear. "You got any weapons on ya'?" You shake your head. "Alright then, non-witch. Why not show us into your lovely home, you don't wanna be a rude host, do you?" She roughly grabs your arm, practically dragging you into your own home. Once inside, the smallest bear begins to sniff around, as if hunting for something.

"Um, what's he doing?" You ask, watching as your home is searched by the small bear. Goldie looks over, groaning and rolling her eyes. "Baby, ya' dolt! Stop it, we'll just get em' to tell us where it is. Ya don't need to turn the place over." She turns back to you. "Are you familiar with a book, called-" She pulls a piece of paper from her pocket, glancing over it quickly, before saying "called 'Hellica Mellica: Ancestra Magica'?". You bite your lip, unsure about telling this fierce girl the location of your book. The only real success you've had with magic has come from this book's information, and frankly, you feel like your mentor would curse you from beyond the grave if you just let her beloved book go.

"Uh, sorry, no." You lie, eyes darting to the side. The girl looks unconvinced, and suddenly grabs you by the collar of your frock. "I know you've got it, now, I'm gonna ask ya' a little differently. "Where. Is. The. Book?" She mutters. "Over there, o-on the table." She drops you to the ground, and quickly moves over to the table. She grins as she grabs the spellbook, holding it up. She moves to open it, but finds the cover won't budge. "Wha- what's wrong with it?" She exclaims, beginning to shake the book. "What's wrong then?" The largest bear asks. "It won't open. It's jammed or something." She throws the book on the ground. "Give it ere' lemme take a crack at opening it." The largest bear begins to try and rip the book open. You watch, eyes wide in confusion. The book has never refused to open before, not even when you didn't know anything about magic. You slowly shuffle over, and sit nervously down on the nearby armchair. While you watch the bear and girl struggle, the medium bear approaches you. "You ave' a lovely little home, dear." the bear says. "O-oh, thank you." You respond. After a moment's silence, you turn back to look at her.

"Um, can I ask who you all are? The bear nods. "Oh, sorry for not introducin' ourselves. I'm Mama bear, that's Papa bear," She points a claw at the big bear. "That's Baby bear," She points to the little bear, who is currently raiding your kitchen cabinets, making you frown. "and that's my Goldie." Mama bear puts a paw over her chest, smiling as she stares at the blonde girl, who is now so angry she is chewing on the leather cover of the book, hands scratching and clawing at the binding. You look between her and the bears. In her fit of rage, she makes eye contact with you. "You! You've used this book before, open it up." She chucks the book at your head, before Mama grabs it just before it makes contact. You nod thankfully, and open the book. The family crowds around, peering at the first few pages of information. Just as Goldie moves to snatch it, the book snaps shut again. "What! Ugh, you've done something to it, haven't you!" She screeches. "She prolly' put some kinda spell on it! Using children's blood or something." Baby sneers. "I didn't, my mentor must have done something to it, this has never happened!" Goldie pauses. "Never?" She asks. You nod. "Well, seeing as you're the only one who can open it, I guess you'll be coming with us." She stands and motionsfor you to follow, before stopping and looking back over her shoulder.

"Then everything should be just right."

🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿🐻🌿

[luimagines]

I saw that one asker with the Twilight x soulmate!Reader, and it reminded me of this old Au I had of the boys I've completely forgotten and now would like to share :D

Back when I first got into Linked Universe, I strongly headcannoned that Wild was Twilight's descendant. Mostly based on how Twilight helped Wild in BOTW, following how Time helped Twilight. Just like a little family tradition, I guess. Anyway, Wild had two wolves helping him on his adventure, Wolfie and Goldie (Wild isn't very creative). Twilight was like a mother hen while Goldie kept some distance but showed his care in different ways. They had appeared before Wild woke up and were by his side since the beginning. Wild had figured out the wolves weren't as they seemed fairly quickly. They just acted odd, sometimes if the light caught them right Wild could see through them, and also the spirit fires he saw from the late king's spirit surrounded the wolves at random times when they thought he wasn't looking. So, some wolf ghosts to add to his ghost collection.

However, when it comes to traveling with the other Links, he was very confused upon seeing Wolfie. A much younger looking Wolfie at that. It was weird to see Twilight was Wolfie, and it made him wonder why Twilight decided to help him on his quest. Time passes, and the gang starts to get to know each other, but Wild can't help but wonder, where is Goldie? Wild never tells anyone much about the wolves, but he tries to figure out if any of the others could possibly be Goldie.

Sadly, that's sort of where it drops off. I never got to any sort of conclusion and reveal. I do remember the whole goal was Wild trying to figure out the mystery of the wolves, fluffy family bonding with the other Links, ad eventually a fluffy reveal that Time, Twilight, and Wild are blood related.

I may pick this up again :) A lot of my ideas, notes, and drawings were lost when my old laptop bit the dust.

Oh, that's cute!! I like that a lot. XD

I've seen a lot of stories with Twilight as Wolfie and Wild because that's borderline canon, but I don't think I've seen any of them add Time into the mix.

I'm sorry to hear that most of the plot is lost now though. I would love to hear if had anything else planned. Like the other boy's reactions to the reveal or the moment when Wild would have learned that Twilight was Wolfie. Or when he learned that they were related.

I know you said you didn't actually get that far in the end, but I think it would still be fun to spit ball.

[ashleyrowanthewriter]

The Sign for Gold Is Ugly - Chapter 3

Previous/Next

*************

Goldie wasn’t giving up on trying to teach Kayla Merslan, but was close to giving up on learning it herself. Every lesson she felt she was making less progress. It was infuriating. And maybe the only thing worse was seeing her classmates fluently using signs she had trouble with.

“Why would I even bother?” said Goldie to her sister. “It’s not like I won’t be able to speak on the shore.”

“Yeah, but would you be able to speak Danish?” asked Kayla.

“Say what now?” said Goldie thinking Kayla was joking around.

“You know, I did some research you didn’t bother to do on your own,” said Kayla. “Turns out that the onshore common language among mermaids is Danish.”

“No, no way, you’re joking,” said Goldie. “There’s no way it isn’t English! I refuse!”

“Apparently you have Hans Andersen to complain to,” said Kayla.

“But…,” Goldie couldn’t finish her sentence. Kayla showed no signs of joking and it was pointless to argue with the facts.

One day Goldie ran out of her medicine. The line in the pharmacy was very long. Goldie was bored and was looking around in random directions trying to kill time. She saw a tall woman with pointy ears and green eyes that seemed to glow. She was holding a paper with a familiar looking writing. The elf woman saw Goldie too and was intrigued by her scales and tail. They seemed to know exactly that they were there for the same reason.

“Refill day?” they asked each other at the same time and laughed.

“Yeah, the bottles aren’t bottomless,” said the elf.

“I guess bottoms will be useful for me,” said Goldie. “It will be easier to navigate.”

The elf laughed as the line was moving forward.

“I guess that’s one thing old Eri doesn’t need to tell you about,” said the elf referencing the only therian transition specialist in the city.

“What, he forgot about important details for you too?” asked Goldie.

“Don’t even make me remember,” said the elf. “The skin exchange was horrible.”

“Oh, and what can I say about Merslan?” said Goldie. “Imagine having to learn a whole new language just to be able to transition. Crazy, right?”

“You know?” said the elf. “I guess it would be nice to learn Braille before starting myself. At least if I knew about everything that would happen.”

“What? Something he forgot to mention again?” asked Goldie.

“Yeah, a terrifying story actually. Imagine randomly going bli…,” the elf didn’t finish, because it was her time to buy her meds.”

Goldie was curious about what the elf wanted to tell her about. Maybe someday she would meet her again.

Next day Goldie felt a sudden burst of energy. She felt as if she could conquer every word Dr. Rowan would throw at her. She was on fire.

When Dr. Rowan entered the classroom Goldie made the welcome sign in a blink of an eye. And suddenly she felt some strange pain. As if there were needles piercing her skin between her fingers and splitting her hands. Goldie let out a painful hiss and a high screech. Dr. Rowan quickly ran to her.

“Is everything alright?” Dr. Rowan asked. “Let me see your hand.

Goldie gave her aching hand to Dr. Rowan without uttering a word. The teacher looked at it carefully and noticed something new.

“Wow, you’re starting to grow membranes! Congratulations!” Dr. Rowan said.

“Wait, really?” Goldie was shocked.

The membranes were beautiful. They were pearl white and shiny. For now they have only grown halfway to the second knuckles. But Goldie already loved them.

“Okay, you should take a break from lessons for now,” said Dr. Rowan.

“What? Why?” asked Goldie.

“You don’t want to damage the membranes further until they grow to the end,” said Dr. Rowan. “For now go home and rest. Don’t do anything too demanding on your fingers. And make sure you put them in water often. Preferably room temperature.”

Never has Goldie’s enthusiasm fallen so dramatically in her life. She really wanted to attend the lesson that day.

*************

Posting this chapter on Monday, because I'm going on vacation abroad soon. And I think I'll move posting to Mondays for good, just to have a more logical schedule. If you somehow forgot what this is, it's my fanfic of the fish HRT story by @welldrawnfish. This chapter also features @kaylasartwork (bat) and @squiretilde (elf)! I really hope they all like it...

[not-goldy]

Hey Goldy🤣🤣🤣just heard Jungkook admitting he likes being the top when he was asked top or bottom and he said top while giggling, he understands the question that man is not naive or lost.

He proved me right again on the hyung kink, he said he prefers a 30 year old Jimin, and I was so lost when he said he will be holder than Jimin by then and I was like hey JK how is that making any sense😏😂 why does he want to be older so much

See you are the kind of Joker I'd totally befriend

Life's too short to be miserable in a shipping space- A SHIPPING SPACE OF ALL SPACES.

everyone can count me out. No. Thank you. Please.

I try not to hang so much on their words as a lot can be lost in translation. But I think the overall message is clear with this one.

I love your take on it. It made me giggle🤣

I would add to your voice and say, this is also his way of affirming and assuring Jimin.

People will not read much into this but I think he understands that aging is something a lot of people aren't too comfortable with.

And some people can beat themselves over and over as they near 30.

I remember the hyungs talking about growing old and how they were becoming too old for Kpop and how we all had to assure them in our own ways.

This is a great way to assure Jimin he'd still be desirable at 30 if JK would choose him over a much "younger" version of himself.

Things like this is what makes me like those two so much.

When it comes to the things that really matter they are never out of tune with each other and are constantly speaking each other's love languages.

Jimin's forever young no matter his age💜

[diplomaticmachine]

WAKE UP AURORA CYCLE FANDOM!!!!! I am here to drop some random headcanons!!

!SPOILER FOR ALL THREE BOOKS!

1- Do you all remember when Scar (or was it Cat?) said that Tyler read about old generals? Well, I believe Scar studied about strong women in history, like Cleopatra, but would never admit it because she doesn’t want to be seen as a nerd lol.

2- Tyler kept Shamrock after Cat died and it just sat in his office until his a four year old Lae found it and fell in love with the toy. At first Tyler didn’t know how to feel, part of him was happy that his daughter was happy and the other was worried for the only part of Cat he had left. Shamrock still had her smell, it was just like she left it before she died, Lae could end up ruining the old toy without even wanting, and that was the last thing Tyler wanted; and for his luck, he couldn’t be more wrong. Lae was so careful with the toy she covered him to fall asleep with her, kissed him goodnight and took care of the dragon as if it was the most precious thing in the world. That made Tyler feel like Cat was taking care of Lae, she was still a part of his life.

3- Both Fin and Auri are fish people, not cat, not dog, but fish. Auri had a goldfish called Goldie back at home (Callie took care of her after Aurora left) and Fin had one weird fish he gave to one of his brothers after he went to live with his grandparents for the zero gravity; both of them missed their fishes so much their partners got them new ones, which they adore just as much. Aurora's fish was named by Kal, and received the most creative name ever: Fish; while Fin's is called "Sushi the second", after his late pet.