#anyway THANK YOU DARLING

[lizaisdrawing]

Mr. Wally

[blindmagdalena]

i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....

18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.

Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.

It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.

He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.

It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.

He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.

"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.

Yours.

Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.

You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.

He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.

He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.

"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."

Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.

He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.

Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.

"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."

Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.

Not his problem. His focus is you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?

Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?

Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.

Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.

He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?

His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.

"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.

"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"

Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."

His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."

"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.

Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.

They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.

"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.

He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."

"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."

That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.

"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.

"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.

He grins. "Uh oh."

In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.

Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.

"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.

"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.

He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.

The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"

You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.

"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.

"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.

He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."

Fuck. Yes, that he can do.

You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.

"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."

Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.

Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.

No one will ever take you away from him.

His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."

He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.

If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.

He needs you to survive him.

"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."

Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.

"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.

"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,

"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.

"One..."

One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.

He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.

When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.

Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.

"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.

He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."

The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.

"I love you," you mumble sweetly.

Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.

You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.

Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.

Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.

No force in this would can keep him from you.

[lattehearted]

"Why do you always assume it's me?" Indignant to the last, even if, well...he supposed he could've done something subconsciously to tick off their eldest brother? He couldn't remember, it felt like he'd been cooking all day. "Well, I'm like. Pretty sure it wouldn't have been Damien so maybe you or Erik did something to bug him, for all we know."

@lattehearted / sam for matthew.

"It looks like James is in a mood today. did you do something this time?" it was left unsaid that it was a mood that was caused specifically by one of the brothers. the kind of one that bordered the line of frustrated and disappointed.

june muse sc.

[thedevillionaire]

Chosen

Much shorter than it has any right to be, given how long it's taken me to actually finish. Plot? Uh, no, not really. But anyhow... She's been away. He's been unwell.

---

He looks at her like she’s the most welcome hallucination he’s ever had.

Kia closes the door slowly behind her as she takes in this chaos of a makeshift apothecary, the loungeroom in an utter state of disarray and her beloved not faring much better, red-nosed and unshaven and dressed in a black silken pyjama and robe ensemble which, while inarguably stylish, was very definitely not his usual late afternoon wear.

And not at all what she had been expecting to come home to.

A miscellany of potions and concoctions and gods-know-what-elses lie scattered across the coffee table. A teacup, mostly empty. Two tissue boxes, one apparently even emptier than the teacup. Some sort of book...no, manual. Looks instructional. A wilderness of failed curatives.

Oh my god.

She walks further into the room. The air smells of menthol and embers.

“Babe, what are… Are you… What have you even been doing h…?”

You absolute beautiful total disaster.

“Trying not to… hh-HH …let thi…this-damn-cold…” Cerberus turns from her as his sentence dissolves, the syllables collapsing against one another in a desperate rush to give way to greater need and deep breath of purpose, and he raises a finger in urgent, undeniable pause. "Huh-TSSCH-uu!" Hurriedly claiming a series of tissues in a brief, expectant hiatus, he surrenders completely and sneezes again. "Hh-AATSCHH-uu! *snff-FF!*" A quiet groan in the aftermath. He excuses himself, adds another tissue to the set, blows his nose and immolates the lot. "Pardon me." He sighs. "Trying not to let this godsdamned cold win,” he manages, with an accompanying sharp sniffle. Neither heavy congestion nor the way his voice cracks slightly lessens any of the seething distaste in his tone.

“Oh, honey.” Kia brushes some errant hair back from his face. :Bless you.: She touches a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re getting your ass kicked.”

She offers him a soft smile to hopefully lessen a little bit of truth's sting. "C'mon, shift over," she says gently as she joins her beloved on the couch, nestling up beside him, resolutely ignoring every caution he tries to give her advising against doing so. Notably half-hearted as those cautions are.

Because while it’s true that he very much doesn’t want her to catch this, he’s also well aware it’s more than likely already too late for such concerns. The entire house is probably some sort of incubation epicentre. And, sincerity of expressed warnings aside, the entire sorry vista surely constitutes warning enough. He's fairly certain he couldn't look more biohazardous if he tried.

Cerberus sighs again, sniffling again immediately afterwards, and gives his bonded a look of resignation.

Further elaboration hardly seems necessary.

But also he doesn’t press the issue because in truth the last thing he wants is to send her away. He’s not even sure he has the energy to insist on it, anyway; he’d be infuriated about this entire ridiculous circumstance if he wasn’t so damn exhausted. So, small obligatory protests done, with another damp sniffle Cerberus shifts some disarrayed blanketry out of the way and wraps an arm around Kia’s waist, drawing her close.

Her soft perfume of violet, strawberry and vanilla is lost on him anywhere outside of memory right now, but her presence is more than enough and he closes his eyes for a moment, just appreciating the simple fact of her being here beside him at last; he's missed her immensely, constantly.

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to come back, if you wanted me here,” Kia muses as she nestles further into his heat, adding, “It wouldn't have been a big deal,” without accusation. She leans her head against his shoulder and looks up at him with gentle azure gaze, her unspoken thoughts of I’d always choose you. How do you still not know that? readable despite her not voicing them.

And he does, of course, know that – in fact, it’s the very reason he wouldn’t ask. Cerberus sniffles thickly, wiping his nose. “Ah, love. I'd hardly ask you to put yourself anywhere near this—" He gestures around the room in a general presentation of contempt for the whole situation. "—vortex of infectious absurdity,” he concludes, thick congestion lacing his words. He clears his throat but it doesn’t make any notable impact against the wreckery his voice has become. "And it's about your... *SNFF!* ...your autodoby."

Kia peers at him. “My…what?”

“Your au…” Cerberus, all too aware that several critical consonants are unequivocally not working for him, rolls his eyes at himself. Honestly. Taking another fresh succession of tissues from a very rapidly depleting supply, he blows his nose forcefully but completely ineffectively.

He excuses himself once more and tries again; it goes equally badly.

Kia, baffled, raises her hands in a friendly but very clear nope sorry babe no idea expression, accompanied by a gentle little laugh that she just can’t help.

A long-suffering and immensely frustrated look comes her way, followed by a resigned, defeated sigh as her beloved entirely gives up. “Free will.”

For a moment, this makes even less sense to Kia. “Why would…” she begins, but cuts herself off in triumphant realisation. “Oh, autonomy!” She laughs. "Oh, sweetheart."

“That’s what I s… hh-hh! I...” And even this is hijacked, and the Demon king capitulates entirely, doubling over desperate into crooked elbow, “Huh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-HEHTSCHuu!” 

He takes some moments of bleary recovery, Kia's heartrate spiking alongside the :Gods, forgive me: Cerberus Mindsends her.

"Oh, bless you, babe." Kia doesn't try to fight the thrill that flashes through her and she wraps herself around her bonded to kiss him again; a kiss deeper, more needful, than is probably wise. But wisdom isn't what she's craving right now.

“You know what? You’re going to stop talking and let me make my own choices.” She brushes a stray lock of hair from his eyes, touches the softest of lingering kisses to his forehead and meets his gaze. :Talking really isn't working out for you anyway.: "And besides—" Another kiss, deeper again, and she presses her arousal against his, salacious, wanton.

:—you know we both want the same thing.:

---

[senkamikakushi]

I’m curious if you’ve come across this pic of chihiro and lin before!! A couple months ago I found it on Pinterest and was so confused and excited cus i had never seen it before. Came to find out it was part of a ghibli merch calendar someone was selling. But it looks straight out of the movie! I wonder if it was from a deleted scene. (The movie was supposed to be around like three hours I think)

I saw that image on Pinterest too! I was so excited because I thought it was a deleted scene or extra official art.

So it's from a merch calendar! That's really cool, actually. I know the Ghibli team had to cut out a lot of extra scenes just to keep the movie short enough (and even then it's really quite long), which always made me really curious about the scenes we never got to see. This would fit perfectly as one of them! It's honestly so warm and endearing.... Maybe we could've seen more interaction between Lin and the other worker girls, or even some development between them and Chihiro. Especially since the girls in this image look suprisingly young! Anyway, it's nice to see Lin and Chihiro making up for the food that was spoiled by the river spirit.

This seems quite random, but while we're on the topic of "Spirited Away images that seem official but are suprisingly not as well known as they feel like they should be",

Would anyone happen to know about the origin of these two images?

I've heard they're from the Japanese Studio Ghibli Twitter, but whenever I follow the source links, nothing comes up. Did they delete the posts or the whole account? It's honestly a bummer because these are such sweet and adorable images and I was really excited to read through all the reactions to it. If anyone knows what happened to these posts or the original source of the images, I'd be really grateful to hear about it!

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I truly do appreciate all you do(and put up with) with all our asks and such. I hope all the things you wish for come to you because you deserve it. Also I have been reading your tags. Snuggle your sis’ cat for all of us cat lovers plz. <3

The peoples asks are the highlight of my day …….. most of the time …… of COURSE im happy to interact with them thank you all for being so lovely !!!!!

now excuse me can you guys watch her

[spaceratprodigy]

(palette challenge) PINK LEMONADE OR WATERMELON FOR DELIRIS ⁉️⁉️⁉️

@oldworldwidgets — [ palette prompts ]

WATERMELON LEMONADE DELIRIS 💖💚

[indecisive-dizzy]

Alright the Gravity Falls brain rot is kicking in (aka I watched a 4hr video overanalyzing ATOTS <3 iykyk)

So have a loosely thought out concept of a hypothetical Welcome Home x Gravity Falls au with my "Hear me out!"s This is a long one, you've been warned <3

Wally - Dipper

Sally - Mabel

Julie - Stanley

Frank - Stanford

Eddie - Soos

Barnaby - Wendy

Poppy - Abuelita

Howdy - Gideon

Home - Bill???

Ok hear me out! (under the cut) Please ignore typos <3

Very quick clarification! For this au everyone is at least in their teens and I'm gonna add their ages as I elaborate. Ok? Ok!

Gonna Start with Poppy and Eddie. In this hypothetical au Poppy is Not Eddie's grandmother. Originally I thought of assigning Poppy the role of Lazy Susan but I wanted her to have a closer connection to the rest of the cast. And Abuelita fit the role well enough for me! She's just a sweet homebody who wants to knit and bake in peace. Eddie tells her all about work and Wally and Sally visit. <3

So Poppy and Eddie live together as Roommates/Family. Poppy took Eddie in as a teen (16ish) when she was in her early 20s (22-23?) He views her as a big sister. And she views him as a little brother. Anxiety siblings <3 (yes I hc Eddie has anxiety) Eddie started working for the shack soon after being taken under Poppy's wing. He's a tad forgetful and clumsy but is a very reliable handy man and a good friend! He's got a big heart and worries about Julie sometimes.

Currently, as in the time the au takes place, Eddie is 24 and Poppy is 30-31.

Julie and Frank would in fact make a Fantastic Mabel and Dipper. Tbh I think I've seen the comparison before. Which is exactly why I'm not doing it! They're not twins here but they are childhood friends and very close in age, Frank being slightly older. Currently, Julie is 57(?) and Frank is 58(?). (Ages aren't confirmed, all I know is I want them to be A Bit younger than the Stans. Currently this would put them in their late 20s at the time of the portal incident)

I feel like people sometimes forget that Frank is not against resorting to violence lol. Which is great for post portal Ford (and maybe Paranoia era Ford. bbg was not afraid to use that crossbow.) And Julie is a girl bossing business woman! She's scamming people selling breen to the tourists! Whatever that is! Tbh Big inspo for this decision is Relativity Falls, like I said these two make for great mystery twins.

So! Wally (15) as a teenage Dipper! It's just Wally but his curiosity is bumped to 100. Still the same lil guy but he's got a hyperfixation on the supernatural and cryptids. Maybe he hasn't quite figured out his style yet, maybe he's a bit more awkward, I dunno.

He kinda didn't want to spend his summer here but ends up enjoying himself as he makes friends and gets to over indulge his curiosity.

Sally (15) is Wally's adopted sister! By sheer coincidence they have the same birthday but Sally always points out that she's older because she was "born at sunrise!" She's very adventurous and is often the one leading their escapades. I imagine she meets this aus equivalent of Candy and Grenda at the local theater. Very much wants to be her own person, separating herself from the Adopted Twins thing. Not in a bad way! She loves Wally very much but wants people to see her as Sally! Not just "Wally's Sister."

Barnaby (22) is very laid back and so is Wendy. Yeah I don't actually have a lot to say? Um. He does the bare minimum work but is a good friend to Julie. He's real observant and can tell she's not always as bubbly as she seems But she's also his boss so he doesn't pry. Instead just offering a distraction or a rare bit of advice..

Oh! There's a parallel with him and Wally and Wendy and Dipper. Except Wally just wants to be friends with Barnaby but doesn't quite know how to communicate that. Maybe he just kinda follows him around the shack hoping to figure out what to say?

Thinking their relationship is literally the recent quote from Clown's Q&A: "Barnaby meeting Wally felt like business as usual, and Wally meeting Barnaby felt like meeting the whole world." yeah that's it. Sums it up Perfectly <3 Wally thinks Barnaby is really cool and friendly. And he wants a friend who treats him like he's mature. Like he's 15, not 5. And Barnaby does that right out the gate. Calls him kid but obviously doesn't treat him like a small child.

Ahem. Capitalism. Howdy's (21) a filthy capitalist and wants the shack for Profit. I don't think he'd resort to literal breaking and entering to get the deed? Can't make Profit from jail if he gets caught. But he's definitely trying to buy the property off of Julie. Maybe we stray further from Gravity Falls canon and say he gets an early redemption bc I'm a sucker for this goof. It would be sometime after taking the shack (and losing it.) Oh but he does summon the Evil. Can't break the law if the law doesn't account for Interdimensional Demons!

On that note, Yes Howdy could be Stanley. But again. That's the easy way out! Also in my brain that would make,, idk Barnaby? Ford. And I couldn't do that.

Ok final (wh) character. Home. So I'm on the side of Home Isn't Evil/The Antagonist. He's just a guy (house)! A sassy fella! But someone's gotta be the Eldritch Horror and Unfortunately, Home,,, well he's a lil quirky!

But idk How to incorporate Home. They speak in onomatopoeias! They're a house! Is Home now a Vague 2D House Shaped Demon? Do the have Limbs? Wear a top hat? Do they talk now? Home speaking words feels cursed. But I genuinely don't what else to do? Maybe we suspend our disbelief and they still talk through banging shutters. Everyone just understands them bc Cartoon logic pffff maybe they have subtitles projected into your brain that only you can see idk lol.

So obviously there's Way more GF characters than there are WH characters. insert characters [(y/n)] aren't my thing for aus so that's a no go for me personally. I imagine the town is filled with characters we've heard of outside the neighbors (Ma Beagle of course lives in town.) Maybe some of Howdy's family is here who knows. And the rest would be randos or ocs I guess! Tho I don't believe Julie's siblings are in town.

Anywho this is all hypothetical and I made it up and retyped things as I went along. I wanted to ramble some nonsense so I did! If you read it, Awesome! You sure did that!

[vermillioncrown]

This is going to be a huge post because you've picked up so much of what we put down I'm just 🥰🥹

@sunshinerotting replied to your post “(@rozaceous) dpnf ch 11: housebroken”:

will be rereading immediately but i love your guys’ characters very much and the way you write the canon characters makes so much sense. the way the people in that house interact with each other is so interesting to me because if tim was actually the normal boy he thinks he is the entire balance would be thrown off. no one else could’ve done what he does in that dynamic. they’re like a jigsaw puzzle to me. i have more thoughts give me a sec

thank you so much! roz and i keep joking that this fic is now an au of an au of an au of an au... and on and on, and then it's like. what makes this still a fic and not a fully original setting and work? we had to sell readers on a lot, that these characters (outside of our SIs) were still some flavor of canon. especially, "who is the core of tim drake?" and yeah, he's so not fucking normal. but he's not obviously wacky, either.

​out of order now i don’t remember chapter numbers: when jason showed up like a huge asshole i texted my friend about it. very much “he WOULD fucking do that but by god is it PISSING ME OFF” and it was!! love that genuinely. might not be what was intended but i do think he IS odd and sad and unable to move through the cycle of grief fully enough to show back up like a haunting and not expect it to get to allie like that. zero ability to understand how loved he is. 10/10 more...

GAH to know you texted abt our fic!!!! 🥹🥹🥹 best praise tbh. and the second sell: how is jason an asshole but worth rooting for later? or at least, allowed into the enclosure lol. we might not have had it summarized as neatly as you did, but roz and i are in full agreement you Read jason here. that's exactly what we wanted, that's so much of what we take from his character in various canons.

allie reminds me of a bobcat which feels weird to say but she’s so nonthreatening outwardly and she minds her business but the second someone steps in on her people it’s like Oh. oh right. teeth and claws. when jason showed back up i felt so much for her. there was no way for her to move. korvin acts in ways similar to me, which i will examine on my own time and not in your comments. i do love how everyone in this house has their own preferred flavor of Avoidance

you also have such a read on allie, i love it. i'll leave her to roz but i'll say my piece that i sometimes get bummed that korvin's so obviously wacky + a lot of gender stuff at play (the audience/demographic of ff readers, we live in a society and all that) that make more ppl focus on korvin over allie whereas they're both equally wack. and korvin's behavior makes the most sense when taken as a convoluted male re-socialization of someone initially female-socialized but rewarded in a male-dominated space. AND both of them are AuDHD, word of god putting that out there. add on the isekai brainworms, and yeah, isekai is just an extended analogy for masking → hence the different flavors of avoidance

tim is somehow the most well-adjusted in this regard, before jason shows up maybe, and thats so crazy. tim drake. Tim Drake ????comparatively well-adjusted to anyone ??? i know i’m forgetting something so i’ll come back but writing that down genuinely through me off a little bit. lol

you also recognize that jason ranks above tim in "well-adjusted" here, god, how does it feel to be so correct. and tim is well-adjusted here! he's never had to be a vigilante! but he's also much lonelier than in canon. something that made retrospective sense while we were writing is that he fell out of liking ball sports (despite not being a desk nerd) is that...who does he have to enjoy them with in this au?

threw not through. anyway I FORGOT ABOUT RUTABAGA. I AM SO SORRY RUTABAGA. the amount of love between the characters is so important to me bc it’s always there no matter how fucked the bats are about showing it normally. the brownstone does end up feeling like a safe space like it somehow feels so easy most of the time and then when tangential forces (sorry dick) show up it’s like the air changes. but allie and korvin and tim all have such Personalities its insane it works out like that.

RUTIE BEST GIRL, forgiven lol. YES YES YES there is so much love and it's like, the love doesn't stop you from doing the work. the bats are so fucked up, and we only get a glimpse of dick and korvin's relationship where you can see the maladapted consequences on both of their parts, dick not being fully equipped to "raise" korvin and korvin wanting to be easy/convenient for dick. and korvin's deep-seated not-abandonment issues tied with family and cultural trauma/burden.

(i still stand by the "good older brother dick grayson" tag, he's just. oh there's a lot. if you read between the lines there's so much being implied for TPAC)

but having allie in this 'verse, allie and korvin together ground each other. that's why they're so co-dependent in the beginning (it's healthier at the end), that's why they still had the wherewithal to seek an outside friend, and yes, that is why the brownstone is like that. their place that they made with their own hands.

obviously jason was an issue initially (it felt redundant to write that sentence) but he’s such a necessary part of them by being 1) necessary to allie and 2) the catalyst allie and korvin needed to end up where they are. i do think ppl that important to each other need one big unavoidable conflict to avoid stagnation like obviously he was a necessary part of the story but he was a Necessary Part Of The Story. does this make sense?? four strand braid.

AND YES DUDE you literally. we were writing this and we had the vibe, but we literally did not articulate it to each other until the very end that jason's actually necessary to make all of them normal. i love everything you're saying about needing one unavoidable conflict to resolve. he is part of a four strand braid. it's so strong. it's critical. korvin still finds jason annoying and vice versa. and yet they'd both say the household contains all of them by the end.

i just like that they start off alone and end up together. that’s my thing. jigsaw puzzle. polycule of all time. i can’t think of a way in which another person would ever get that close to them the dynamics are so perfect to me. every need is accounted for. its like a perfect little box in my mind. i think thats it for now lol i’m happy you guys write together. not just bc i love it but also bc it’s so clear u guys have fun doing it and that makes me happy <3

WE MADE IT. it's one thing to prescribe "hey guys this is a polycule" but selling it? the logistics of a polycule? not so easy, and it has to be tailored to the situation and characters. not all of them are romantically/sexually involved, nor do they have straight-forward relationships (hence, qpr), so having you say it fits and they seem seamless is like. top tier praise. coherence, it's everything we've aimed for.

thank you for all of your thoughts! we do have tons of fun and that's why we love sharing what we have! and we hope to keep doing projects like this, or we'll just be at each other's side while we work on our individual fics.

[sugarsnappeases]

kara i wanna know allllll about your reg. tell me EVERYTHING <3

so obvs canonically pretty much the only thing we know about reg is his betrayal of voldemort and the cause etc etc so i like to centre that in most of my thoughts about him……

he joins the death eaters bc he’s a loser w a freakish voldemort obsession who has like three friends and bc he’s lonely and he hates sirius and he wants to spite him by joining the group to which he’s so opposed. he wants to prove sirius wrong and prove himself right and i believe wholeheartedly that, even if he was influenced somewhat by the way he was raised and by the circles he runs in, he joined the death eaters completely of his own volition!!! i’m passionate about this!!! i think it destroys the nuance of his character to say that he was forced to join or that he joined w the intention to betray them all along or whatever . to me, he was fucking gagging to be a death eater and he’s so smug when he’s allowed in. i picture him ranting to barty and evan about ‘the great honour that has been bestowed upon him’ whilst lovingly stroking his dark mark

anyway, then he gets scared. he’s just a boy!!! and he realises he’s in too deep when it’s far too late… to me he just can’t stand the violence of the death eaters. like he’s a blood purist and further than that thinks he personally is superior to pretty much everyone else, on account of his black blood, but he hates that he has to get his hands dirty in order to see his idealised vision of the world (sans mudbloods and blood-traitors) realised…. he’s soft and weak and squeamish and lonely and always so so miserable at all times as a rule. he also tries to hide how scared he is by being a massive bitch. classic.

then he realises that tom has a horcrux (and imo he would figure this out fairly easily after the kreacher thing, bc he’s smart but also bc tom read about them in a book in the HOGWARTS LIBRARY!! so it’s not much of a stretch to say that the same book and probs further, more detailed books would be in the library at grimmauld, likewise in most of the darker pureblood family libraries…. this is another thing i’m passionate about. horcruxes aren’t this big secret. nobody makes them bc nobody’s a fucking idiot like tom is. they’re also warned off properly by their rents. tom doesn’t have this…. ANYWAY) he realises tom has a horcrux and that the guy he’s idolised and basically sold his soul to is fucking bonkers (shameless self promo - i write a bit about this realisation in the regulus letter in my fic ‘where can i put it down?’…. makes me crazy) and he’s scared and alone and he wants out and he does the one brave thing of his life in dying…..

and he doesn’t think it’s a brave thing. he tells himself that sirius was a coward for running away and betraying them and specifically him. he tells himself he’s being brave, braver and better than sirius, when he’s like sticking it out, joining the death eaters, following the role prescribed to him, so when he decides he’s gonna go to the cave it’s like giving up, it’s being a coward, its admitting to himself that he’s never been better than sirius no matter how much he want or tries to be, it’s betraying the cause and everything he’s stood for but he HAS to do it. for sirius and for kreacher and for himself and for the chance that maybe he’s not past saving. he spends his whole life trying to be good but in the sense of behaving and then his death, his first (and last) real rebellion, is the only time that he actively attempts to be good in terms of a moral act even if it has nothing to do w a renouncement of blood purity. and i don’t think he fully realises that when he does it bc it’s all so tangled up in other things. and i’m not saying that he’s like morally reprehensible the rest of the time (he’s just a boyyyy) but the majority of his active choices have been kinda bad ones up to this point even if he’s been like . passively good . and also literally just a child. an angsty teen if you will

his life is marked by inaction and bad decisions and his final act is kinda the antithesis of this and it’s tragic bc he’s not ever going to survive it. and sirius is never gonna know. it makes me miserable. does any of this even make sense lmaooo basically he’s a loser and he misses his brother and he’s so lonely and he loves sirius so much even as he hates him and he’s quiet and he wants so desperately to be a good death eater bc this is everything he’s ever wanted but he just can’t in the end!!! he’s just a boy!!! a boy who would nurse birds with broken wings back to health and cry when they flew away, a boy who would hold his brother’s hand and hang on every word he says and exist almost entirely in sirius’ shadow until said shadow is suddenly gone and he’s left reeling, a boy who’s so so soft and gentle but who hides it all behind layers of barbs and cold remarks, a boy who is desperately desperately sad and scared and GOD I LOVE HIM……

[angelicartemis]

Drew on a Hello Paint board with @artastic-friend and a few others!

A couple of DJs. 😳 The fully body DJ is literally one of my best DJ drawings out there I swear. Idk what possessed me to draw him that well, but damn I'm so glad I did get possessed. 😫✨‼️

I'm not too proud of the second DJ, but March seemed to like it regardless. ^^💕

March did share this drawing in their own post as well. 👀 The middle Wally is mine, and the other two sillies were drawn by them. :D

Random Dr. Habit dooble- March ended up getting tangled in his hair. 😔

Some smaller sillies- Can you guess who drew the shrimpton. 💀

[cerealischewy]

wyndell as a human ^_^ the constant took his man bun, so tragic

was talking with @wwwerra and ended up coming up with more lore for him! more below

wyndell was actually an author, who (ofc) made a deal with maxwell and was taken into the constant, which also turned into a shadow creature (unintentional, surprisingly). i was thinking of giving him a human-like appearance, as i was inspired by how charlie is visibly a human, yet she is still considered to be the darkness in the constant (and also made up of shadows). also bc i felt like his character was lacking! dw, he still has his shadow creature form, this is just some kind of skill im trying to implement (in my head). maybe it can be triggered by a full moon (how? don’t ask me. idk, it’s cool), or even insanity

another thing is that ever since wyndell turned into a shadow creature, he has trouble remembering what he looks like/who he is. this was kinda implied due to the lack of a face (in his shadow creature form). so, i think that having him revert back to his original self (…kinda), is an interesting idea! he’s finally able to look at himself and remember, but only for a moment, as he will soon turn back into a shadow, and forget. an endless cycle, if you will

note, if wyndell were in the game, his skins would definitely match his human form :3 also i will probably be digitalizing this, dw. he needs some color

another note, werra and wyndell might have some lore together 🤭

[haledamage]

it took me way too long to realize your url was probably 'hale damage' and not 'hal ed a mage' nor 'HA le damage' in a rather sinister italian accent

lol, you'd be surprised how often I get that! 😁 I think my favorite variation is "haled a mage" but also now I think my next DnD wizard is gonna be Hal Ed so thank you for that 😆

but yep, it's "hale damage"! it's an old pun/nickname earned from a combination of my family name being Hale and me having no spacial awareness and bumping into things all the time 😅 many a plate in the restaurant I used to work in was a victim of hale damage

[xamaxenta]

crashes in thru the window A Vision. Ive Seen A Vision. sabos hands are covered in scars from using his dragon claw thingy and professional martial artists like brickbreakers and shit literally have their bones thicken over time from healing microfractures to provide more strength and power BUT it can come at the cost of joint pain and/or arthritis especially with age. what im saying is scarred calloused weapons of mass destruction sabo hands and rough warm physicians tools, lifetime of rope and rigging and worn ships marco the phoenix hands, gently easing the very literal ache in sabos bones with his two hands cupped around sabos (and sabo is slighter, his hands at first glance look narrow and delicate, but by the time youre close enough to see the scars on his pasty ass skin its too late for you, and marcos workmans hands completely eclipse his) full of warm healing flames . sabo and marco bite and snark and tease and fuck nasty so much that some ppl cannot tell if they like or hate each other but at the end of the day there is no one sabo trusts more to look over his strongest most intimate weapons (LITERALLY attached to/part of his body) like honing the fine edge of a blade that cuts anyone who touches it . but marco bleeds fire. they bicker and argue and tease but here it is silent. the only sounds are the warm rustle of callouses dragging against each other abd the soft rumble of crackling phoenix fire, louder than a candle but quieter than a lantern, and when it pops and snaps it sounds more like leaves and sea waves carried by the breeze and sabo finally, finally can relax for just a moment

This makes me yearn so much i am so full of yearning rn

Absolutely beautiful commentary of their relationship

Sabo’s a man of many facets and Marco wholly understands this and does what he can to enable it, if anything to protect him

If Sabo needs to be seen as someone dangerous vicious tongued, sharper wit, someone so beyond the league of normal men then Marco, the phoenix, who has had plenty of experience would do anything to enable this image

Because when theyre alone he gets to see Sabo as he is because Sabo trusts him implicitly and that means so much more than any words they could share or any snarky performance for the public could

Its rly soft aaaaaah wnishdoshd

Also the softest imagery of Sabo allowing Marco to look over his hands, press out the hurt, the ache, soothe the angry sharpness in his wrists that flares up whenever he writes, Sabo going boneless into his embrace hes shockingly vulnerable like this, without the squaring of his shoulders and the confident commanding pitch of his voice its easy to see the soft nobility in his form something hes striven to move beyond

[grimalkinmessor]

you should enable anonymous ao3 comments

No 🖤

[doodlinstuff]

Figured I should share some of my inktober stuff, cuz sharing is what it's all about. Made with multimedia paper, a pencil and eraser, and ballpoint pens... So many ballpoint pens... Anyways, enjoy the little apple demon.