#cooking crime craft

[johnhwatsonblog]

Say “cheese” to the weekend!

[theothervonkarmagirl]

🍭:

I have no one else to tell about this much like the Ori thing but Liziqi is back lol

If anyone cares lol

[kairologia]

Your untapped talents according to your fifth house.

In traditional astrology, being Venus’ joy, the fifth house is (among others) a signifier for natural talents, as well as hobbies you would enjoy most or thrive at.

Which are yours?

· Aries in the 5th house (Sagittarius rising): you possess a proficiency in competitive or energetic sports and activities, a natural ability to lead a team, an uncanny ability to face & overcome your fears, as well as high stamina & endurance. Steadfast in your beliefs and capable of debating in their favour anytime of the day.

· Taurus in the 5th house (Capricorn rising): you’re naturally talented in gardening & cultivating a beautiful, lush & luxuriant outdoor space, effortlessly skilled in arts like painting, sculpture, or pottery, and excellent at cultivating artistic talent in others (would make a great art professor).

· Gemini in the 5th house (Aquarius rising): you have unrivaled storytelling and writing skills, an innate versatility in performing arts such as acting or comedy, & skilled in employing incisive language to convey complex ideas or emotions. You may have a talent for photography, drawing, or manual/visual arts.

· Cancer in the 5th house (Pisces rising): you’re skilled in acting out intense scenes or writing emotionally charged stories, talented in interior design and making every new place you inhabit feel like home. Usually talented in cooking &/or baking. Great swimmers too.

· Leo in the 5th house (Aries rising): Leo fifth houses are highly creative in fashion-related endeavors such as designing clothing items or costumes, have natural flair for performing arts and a natural ability to captivate an audience or command attention. Great at improvising and coming up with stories on the fly.

· Virgo in the 5th house (Taurus rising): you’re talented in crafts like knitting or woodworking, editing or artistic critique, photography. You’re the go-to person for event organization & planning. Skilled at DIY crafting projects, scrapbooking, manual creations such as jewelry making or ceramic works. Great debators, too.

· Libra in the 5th house (Gemini rising): you have outstanding diplomatic skills & are capable of negotiating your way through just about any situation. You're skilled in creating harmonious compositions in visual arts or music. You would definitely enjoy ballroom dancing, painting, & decorating spaces. You also have a natural sense for aesthetics & beauty.

· Scorpio in the 5th house (Cancer risings): you would make a great taboo/erotica/crime fiction writer or visual artist. You're also talented in writing intense and charged scenes or lyrics, & are capable of evoking strong emotions through artistic expression. You would probably enjoy investigating mysteries & delving into occultism.

· Sagittarius in the 5th house (Leo rising): you’re amazing at inspiring others through creative expression, great at documenting experiences through photography or journaling whether in remote destinations or within your hometowns & making the mundane seem interesting. You’d make a great writer of philosophical or esoterical fiction or analysis.

· Capricorn in the 5th house (Virgo rising): usually great at forms of art that demand focus and discipline. you're the type of person that can master more than one classical instrument if you were to put your heart into it. You would enjoy collecting antiques as a hobby, & have potential to be an eloquent & articulate speaker & writer.

· Aquarius in the 5th house (Libra rising): terrific at advocating for social change & making unheard voices feel heard through artistic or creative expression, and creating experimental or avant-garde works. Potential great musicians. The type of person who can turn even the blandest looking items into something uniquely gorgeous.

· Pisces in the 5th house (Scorpio rising): you have an innate versatile talent at anything creative as you’re capable of creating immersive artistic experiences that can even cloud the senses. Potential talent for dancing, occult or spiritual pursuits and intuitive painting as well. Would definitely enjoy swimming & marine life exploration.

P.S : one configuration cannot describe your entire experience. you may not relate to certain points, as you have had life experiences that shaped you and an entire chart consisting of inextricable elements that need one another to make sense.

Click here for readings !

[fatratinatophat]

The New Craft Page 1

If cooking was a crime, I’d be a law abiding citizen but whatever It’s done. *Runs and hides from the people about to attack me physically for making her sad*

For every comic page I’m gonna add a couple bonuses in the read more, also I found out you can export speedpaints on Procreate so I’m gonna add those, too!

Anyways uh yeah expect a page per week or so but it’ll hopefully be more than that idk

Dw it gets happier in like uhhh 8 pages teehee

Masterpost | Cover | P2

I totally didn’t plan out the entire comic so far on my notes app that would be insane such a silly thought from you teehee

As you can see, Sprout was supposed to be meaner but I decided not to go with that as I didn’t want him to seem like THAT much of a jerk. He’s just kinda accidentally mean cause he’s stupid and if he doesn’t wanna hang out he simply won’t, full stop. (It’s the tism)

I ended up changing the colors which is why the speedpaint looks different, also added in the first text thing idk what to call those

Prolly gonna make a YT so I can post my speeds there too, doubt I’ll ever do anything other than that, though.

I tried making a thumbnail it looks awful nvm-

[amundsenxcook]

always thinking about cookmundsen prison era

literally always thinking about amundsen turning on most every person in his life as he got older, becoming more paranoid and closed off and mistrusting. thinking about him sinking into his debts and being cast aside and becoming so depressed, he describes it as the lowest point of his life.

thinking about amundsen in an american hotel picking up pen and paper and writing a letter to a friend. and even though that friend is in prison, he is still a friend. even though the press had defamed him, even though the law had persecuted him. or maybe because of it – fred cook was roald amundsens friend.

thinking about fred refusing to see visitors, being ashamed of his status and situation, not wanting to see his ex wife or family or anyone.

thinking about fred agreeing to see amundsen.

thinking about amundsen never doubting or badmouthing fred. thinking about fred never envying amundsen. no rivalry, no jealousy, no resentment between the heroes of north and south. (one each.)

thinking about amundsen saying that he would have gone to visit fred even if fred had committed crimes much worse than the ones he was imprisoned for. thinking about amundsen not even knowing what fred did. thinking about amundsen not caring.

thinking about the gifts. a book and an embroidered tablecloth, both crafted in prison. thinking about the tablecloth being displayed in amundsens reception room, where anyone who’d come to visit would see it. thinking about it still lying there today.

thinking about hands clasped tightly. thinking about fred inventing words of comfort and love exchanged between them.

thinking about “come and see me again, captain, won’t you?” and thinking about “i certainly will, doctor.”

[ryuzakemo128]

I Am Once Again Average At Best

Pairing: Ex-Fiance! Eddie Munson x Italian Mafia Princess! Female Reader

Content Warnings: Cheating, affair, infidelity, violence, blood, swearing, cursing, arranged marriage.

Words: 1020

Masterlist

Credit for the Template and Dividers: @cafekitsune

Summary:

“I know you don't want to talk to me,” he began, his voice cracking, “but I just had to see you.”

You raised an eyebrow at his remark, you didn't have the luxury of waiting for another excuse, “I'm getting married soon. I don't have the time or the patience for you.”

You were planning to get married for the past six months until it fell through when you found him sleeping with your close friend. You cancelled the wedding, chucking all of his things out of the window. Furthermore, you would not let him ruin everything you built for yourself. Ever. He let his greed ruin everything.

You were in your mushroom shed, where all the mushrooms you grew resided inside. You were happy, at least it what you thought you would be, right? Who would want someone like you, right? A gruesome soul amongst those glistening brighter than you.

A gemstone worth less than ten dollars and even less than a diamond. Why would they want you?

Why would anyone want an amethyst? Only ever worth between $20 to $50. Only worth it if someone couldn’t afford a diamond encased in 18k gold. The worth of a ring crafted what made you, you would have been sold for at least a thousand times.

But here you are, surrounded by the fungi of the earth, the unsung heroes of nature's bounty, feeling worth less than their decomposing counterparts.

You had met him at the flea market, his eyes had sparkled with a mischief you thought was charming.

You had been the one to introduce him to the wonders of the mycological world, showing him the magic of how life could sprout from decay.

But he had never seen the beauty in it, the way you did.

He had never understood true value comes from the soul, not from the price tag.

The shed was your sanctuary now, a place where you could escape the judgmental whispers of the townspeople. You had turned it into a miniature forest, with wooden shelves acting as branches for your fungal friends to grow upon. The air was thick with the earthy scent of life and the faint hint of oyster mushrooms cooking on the stove. It was comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness of the outside world.

When he saw you again, you were buying fabric to make more clothes for you. You weren't going to buy clothes like you used to. He tried to approach you, his eyes pleading, but you turned away, the fabric swishing around your legs like a wall of protection.

You didn't need his apologies or his excuses. You had moved on, found solace in the quiet whispers of the mushroom shed, where your thoughts grew as wild as the fungi themselves.

Your dad was beyond keen on marrying you off to a rival crime family to keep the peace between your clan and theirs. You were the Italian Mafia Princess, the bargaining chip in a game of power and alliances. But when you saw Eddie at the flea market, you felt something you hadn't felt before — a spark of genuine interest.

He was a breath of fresh, non-criminal air in your otherwise suffocating world. You had hoped that with him, you could escape the destiny already laid out for you.

But he decided cheating on you was better than being around you. You shook your head, removing the thought from your skull.

The bell on the door jingled as a customer entered the shop, bringing with them a gust of cool autumn air. You looked up, expecting it to be another regular looking to stock up on their weekly fungi supply, but instead, you were met with the unmistakable presence of Eddie. His hair was dishevelled, his clothes wrinkled, and his eyes…his eyes had lost the spark of mischief, replaced by a desperate sadness.

“I know you don't want to talk to me,” he began, his voice cracking, “but I just had to see you.”

You raised an eyebrow at his remark, you didn't have the luxury of waiting for another excuse, “I'm getting married soon. I don't have the time or the patience for you.”

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, the colour draining from his face, “What? Who? When?” he stuttered.

“I don't know.” you answered, looking away from his face, his deep brown eyes were enough to make your knees weak in the past. Now all you cared to do was to punch him in the face and make him cry. “It's out of my hands now. And for once, I don’t have to think about the aftermath of someone else’s bad decisions.”

Eddie didn’t know whether to scream at you or tell you to take him back, for the sake of your life being worth more than the shallow graves dug out for those who dared to break your heart in the past. The murders planned, carried out and undergone under the same roof you had grown up in.

Your father is a ruthless man, standing at six feet seven inches tall, dressed in fine suits and rarely seen dressed in anything less than perfection. His eyes bore into Eddie, sizing him up as if he were a piece of meat at a deli counter.

You could almost hear the gears turning in his head, calculating whether he was worth keeping around. But you had made your decision, and it was final. You didn’t need Eddie’s kind of love, not anymore.

You also convinced your father that killing Eddie would bring him nothing in return.

He understood the value of getting something worthwhile in return. Your father banned him from his butcher shops, he wouldn't be allowed near you while you were working in them, at least.

Though your father is more of a girl dad than a boy dad, it meant you were spoiled from the day you were born, and you never asked for much.

Which to him meant you were relatively easy to care for. Easy to make and keep happy, at least until you had fallen in love with Eddie. Now, you were his daughter first and a bargaining chip second.

Your father kept every drawing, art piece, and craft you had ever made, displayed proudly on the walls of his office. He was a man who valued the unspoken bond between a father and daughter, something that Eddie never understood.

[smolfoxbab]

trying to craft up another swap au don't look at me (but do look actually I want to cook)

Thoughts I already have:

Shinichi was still interested in detective work at the start, until his father's murder had a path-altering effect on him and he instead took up the persona of the thief from his father's novel, The Night Baron

Yusaku is dead fr there is no Toichi-faking-it nonsense going on

He was killed for something written in his one of his manuscripts? maybe? unpublished/ only one copy work that was stolen? Shinichi steals documents mainly instead of jewels? Ends up uncovering a lot of corruption in the city that way?? Workshop idea idk yet

Yukiko is alive still?? Missing maybe

Like the Night Baron in the book, he will kill if he feels he has to, and therefore has less of a positive reputation than Kaito Kid (still has a fan club though, of course)

Unlike Kaito who had a real-life figure to follow and model himself after, Shinichi only has what his father wrote, and therefore has to come up with and improvise several things about his persona on his own (main weapons, changing + designing his mask, signature, etc)

The pen-knife is in reference to Yusaku's writer profession, and also a spin on "the pen is mightier than the sword"

He has other tools I just haven't worked those out yet

Doesn't always write in codes but tries to incorporate them into his heists somehow

Kaito isn't entirely a detective he just wants to be a magician but somehow just happens to keep solving crimes (not sure who's shrinking in this AU if either of them)

[tara-the-quiet-bookworm-2016]

Home Alone Yandere! Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female Reader Chapter One

Summary- You didn't know when it started, but lately you constantly felt like you were being watched. At first you thought you were being paranoid, until you started catching glimpse of someone in the shadows. Someone wearing a mask with a skull on it, he seemed to be everywhere you went, and sometimes it felt like he was in your house. For your sake, Y/N I hope you made sure the doors and windows were locked before you went to bed...

Authors Notes- And here I am back again with yet another COD Yandere fic. This time I'm trying my hand writing Yandere Ghost. Let's see how well I do his character justice. And let's see what terrifying stuff poor reader will have to endure because of his twisted obsession, huh?

As you can gather by now I like to mention trigger warnings to my Authors Notes. So this Chapter will feature stalking, paranoid thoughts, breaking and entering, non-con touching. Nothing over the top...yet. But I hope you enjoy. Without further ado here is chapter one. Of Home Alone.

Chapter 1: In The Shadows.

Today had started out as a normal day, in fact it had started out pretty damn good if you were being honest. You had got to work with little to no car troubles, and had got to your job at the local craft store with time to spare. Not like it would have mattered as most of the time you were normally on time. And your day started out pretty smoothly, aside from some kids knocking over a display that is but at least the kids seemed rather apologetic and helped you clean it up. So that was good.

But the odd thing you did notice when you went about your work was the man that seemed to be looming around the store in the aisles you were in. Once or twice you asked him if he needed something but he only shook his head or stared at you. You couldn't quite put your finger on it but something about him seemed odd, of course a lot of odd people came in here but they always seemed innocent. But something about the way he stared at you sent shivers down your spine. Maybe it was his eyes the way they seemed to see right through you, how dark they were. Creepy.

You know that was mean, but he unnerved you, and the way it seemed like he was following you? No, you were being paranoid, it was kind of a small store and such so there was that. And after a while he did leave without buying anything, though you did wonder why he wore that mask, it seemed odd. Giving your head a shake you went about your work until it was finally time to clock out.

And that was when things started to feel odd. As you stepped out into the cool night air you instantly felt like you were being watched. Looking over your shoulder you could only see your coworkers and customers milling around. But still that feeling of being watched persisted. Maybe you've been watching too many crime shows and novels. You told yourself as you shrugged your shoulders and got into your car. Intent on driving home and cooking yourself a nice dinner.

***

Simon didn't know what it was about you. Something about you just seemed to catch his interest, something that intrigued him. Simon didn't know what it was but there was something about you, something that called out to him, something he wanted to possess. Something he wanted to keep all too himself, keep locked away for his eyes only.

God what was it about you? How had he become so obsessed with someone like you? Shaking his head Simon turned away from you as you drove on home, while he decided with some reluctance to return to his own apartment, pulling his jacket closer around himself as he walked down the street. Several people moving out of his way as he did so, some casting looks in his direction as he reached his home. He if he could it that, considering that he was away most of the time he never really considered it home. And thus kept the place sparsely furnished.

Shrugging his jacket off he hung it up before pulling off his mask and tossing it onto a worn chair before moving to the bedroom. Turning on the light he looked around the room, his eyes settling on the wall by his bed. There on the wall were pictures, not of his friends, and certainly not of his family. But of you.

Pictures of you at work, laughing at something a coworker said, of you out in the city window shopping, a faint smile on your lips. And then there were the ones he took of you while were at home, lounging on the couch in nothing but an other sized t-shirt and panties, a half eaten bowl of popcorn on the next to you. Gaze fixed on whatever show you had been watching, unaware that he was so close. Others of you in your kitchen cooking dinner. You really should get better curtains, love. Anyone could be watching you, waiting to strike. Maybe that was why Simon was so obsessed with you, you were so innocent compared to him. Maybe because of that is why he took it upon himself to watch over you, to keep you safe from people that would harm you.

At least that's what Simon convinced himself was the case. Turning away from the wall he slumped down on the bed with a tired sounding sigh. The pictures he had of you were perfect, but nothing compared to the videos he had of you on his phone. Videos he took of you during one of his many visits inside your house, you were completely unaware though as you sat in your darkened living room completely oblivious. Or the one he took of you when you were asleep, a worn out teddy bear wrapped tightly in your arms as Simon sat by the window. The one he knew you were unable to lock, the one he crept through every night to watch you sleep.

The last time he had watched you had been last night after a particularly exhausting day, you had all but stumbled into your bedroom without pulling on your pj's. Or even crawling under the covers, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze. He remembered ever so slowly creeping towards your bed, fingers brushing against your cheek, thumb brushing against your plush lips as you shifted ever so slightly in your sleep. Completely unaware of his presence.

And Simon wouldn't deny that there was a part of him that wanted more, that wanted to possess you, to keep you locked away for his eyes only. And while he tried to deny it he knew it was only a matter of time before that was a case. Pulling off his shirt he got ready for bed. He hoped you would enjoy your freedom while it lasted, because someday you would be his...

Authors Notes- I don't often post two works in the same day. But here I am. Sorry this is a rather weak start, I assure it'll get better as the story goes on. But I hope you enjoyed it.

[elizabethemerald]

Summon the Cat: Part 6

Master Post

Danny crouched, looking down at the McMansion from a neighboring roof. The house was ostentatious to a fault. He wasn’t much of an expert on architecture in general but he had studied this building’s design extensively. It had been built to one up its next door neighbor that Danny was currently waiting upon. Due to trying to get the most of the available acreage the mansion pressed up against its neighbors, rather than the extensive topiary gardens the rest of the rich mansions had. 

The house Danny was on had a pool house that once had a beautiful view, except the garage of the McMansion now overshadowed it. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. All rich people were fruit loops. The continued drama with Bruce just proved him right. 

According to Selina (his new mom!!) Bruce had thrown seven kinds of fits about the Kyle family moving in next door. He had tried to bench Red Robin for selling Drake Manor, but Tim just moved out to his penthouse in Gotham proper and had the occasional sleep over at the Kyle House when he was feeling lonely. 

The kids all seemed happy to have the Kyles and the Sirens so close. Jason and Dick were over every other week, Jason to experiment with his cooking, Dick to train Danny and Jazz in gymnastics. Danny loved Jason’s skill in the kitchen and was paying avid attention so he could learn how to cook, because he certainly didn’t want the Fenton’s terror in the kitchen to infect him. Jazz was content to know that they were both eating nutritious food that they didn’t have to fight. Also, she had apparently always wanted to be in gymnastics but the Fentons considered it less important than ghost hunting and she couldn’t afford the lessons on her own. Danny of course used the lessons during his training with his mom to be a cat burglar. 

Jazz spent a lot of time with Stephanie and Cassandra. Bruce had tried to bench them as well, except Steph had laughed in his face while Cass had stolen any equipment they needed and the pair moved into the Kyle House, more specifically into Jazz’s bedroom. He wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what the three girls were up to in there, the love bites on Jazz’s shoulders made it obvious, but he didn’t want to think about his sister’s love life, though he was happy that the two girls made her so happy. 

He stuck out his tongue in disgust at the reminder of the one time he had a nightmare and almost walked in on the triad, then groaned quietly as he had licked the inside of his mask. Danny, Selina and the rest of the Sirens worked together to design his new costume. His nose and mouth were covered by a rigid mask and respirator shaped into the rictus grin of the Cheshire Cat. Selina had bemoaned not thinking about covering her face more with her costume. Harley had recommended leaning into his creepy factor, with the grin and slit eyes on his goggles. He could make both glow when he wanted to up the creep factor even more. 

Danny had enjoyed crafting the character he wanted to portray with his mom and his two aunts. He would allow his giggles to get caught on cameras, or the glow of his eyes to be seen. It was fun to be spooky without also getting chased by either his parents or the GIW. He had chosen the name Chesire as his thief name as an homage to his mom’s name of Catwoman. He had heard that there was apparently a villain named Chesire already, but he hoped that considering they were interested in such different crimes she wouldn’t be mad. 

His outfit was equipped with top of the line tools. Some he had made himself, some he had pickpocketed from the bats, including his own father. He made certain that he kept a clear division between when he was out as Chesire and when he was hanging out with the Waynes as Danny Kyle. He didn’t want them to worry about his intentions when he was with them. Harley had sewn his costume and the reinforcements necessary to tangle with the Justice League and the Bats. Ivy had given Danny some toys as well, his respirator could filter out any plant based toxin, and he had some pollens, spores and toxins of his own to knock out guards. 

On top of the mask and goggles he had a loose cowl with cat ears on top that completed his look. The cowl hid his identity without hampering his movement like the stiff ears Batman had would. He loved the spookiness of allowing his eyes to glow through his goggles from the depths of the hood. 

Danny tilted his head as a click sounded in his ear piece. He grinned and jumped across the high fence to their target. Selina was used to working by herself so she kept any conversation to a minimum, relying on small signals to show him when it was time to move. 

He landed lightly on an air conditioning unit, using just a touch of flight to slow his landing and eliminate the sound. He stood on his tiptoes and pulled a screwdriver from his kit. He had rebuilt the small tool himself, making it whisper quiet. Even the small sound of the tool was covered by the whir of the AC unit as he unscrewed the vent above his head. He gently pried the vent cover off, then hooked a cord through the vent itself so it dangled from the opening. 

Danny levered himself up and into the small opening. He couldn’t imagine his mom squeezing through the small gap, even though she had to do that herself when she was younger. Fortunately, he was skinny as a twig and had his ghost strength to lift himself up. Aunt Harley called him wiry. Jason called him a shrimp, though he changed his tune when Danny dead lifted him. 

He crept across the ductwork above the garage, looking down on the cars after he pulled the vent cover back into place with the cord and secured it with a bit of plain Blu tack. Mom insisted that you could have the best tech in the world, but sometimes simple solutions were the best. They had considered stealing the fancy showpiece cars, but cars were much easier to track and they already had Bruce breathing down their necks so they weren’t worth it. That didn’t mean they couldn’t cause some chaos, just for fun. 

Danny hooked his ankle around one of the duct supports and leaned down until he was upside down and took careful aim with a grapple he pickpocketed from Nightwing only this past week. He had been practicing this shot for hours every day for weeks. He took a deep breath, then triggered the grapple. The hook bounced off the concrete under a fake Model T at the perfect angle to hook the top of a storage rack against the wall. The rack was filled with tools and parts so the rich prick who owned the McMansion could pretend he actually worked on the cars himself. 

He reeled in the grapple until the shelf was on the verge of tipping forward, the cable straining against the bottom of the Model T, and he couldn’t help his namesake Cheshire grin. He hooked the grapple gun onto the duct support and playfully tapped the taut line like a piano string. This would make a delightful mess to cover his exit. 

Another click in his ear reminded him that they were on a time clock. Selina had bought them a couple of hours free of the Bat and that time was closing steadily. He finished making his way into the house proper. He found the central control for the house’s security system easily enough. He broke the cover off the panel and quickly bypassed the security. 

Selina had been surprised by his ease with bypassing electronic systems. Danny had learned a lot from Tucker and repeated encounters with Technus, but he had been dealing with the security systems of the Fentons for as long as he could remember. He could rewire and bypass most security systems in his sleep, and they wouldn’t even shoot him if he failed. 

He tapped his ear piece sending a single click and after a few moments he was joined by his mom as she walked in the front door, bold as brass. She smiled at him and rubbed his head, causing Danny to preen and his core to thrum in his chest. 

“Well done, kitten.” She said, practically purring in pride, before she glanced around the ground floor of the McMansion. “Now, Cheshire. You picked this mark, let’s get away with everything we can.” 

The mother-son duo made quick work of the mansion’s valuables. Art pieces and statues were slipped into a bag that Danny had connected to the Infinite Realms. The ectoplasm would short out any electronics or trackers and they wouldn’t have to worry about fleeing while loaded down. He would be able to recover the larger goods later when the heat had all but disappeared. He didn’t have perfect control over his portal abilities, but it was enough to get back and forth from the Realms. Training his powers with Selina and his aunts had really improved his skills. 

The two of them worked in tandem, flawlessly stripping valuables, cracking a safe in the bedroom, and taking everything they could get their claws on. Danny felt flushed with happiness. He was working alongside his mom, stealing from a rich prick who stole from his workers, he felt amazing. 

A click sounded in both of their ears, causing them to pause. Their window of Bat free time just closed. They slung their collection of valuables over their shoulders and began to race back through the house. Selina split off, her whip cracking as she swung off to another building. Danny made his way back into the garage as Robin and Red Robin landed behind him. Danny smiled, and allowed his eyes and mouth to glow for the full Cheshire effect. 

He activated the grapple gun as he passed and with a whir and an almighty crash the storage rack collapsed down onto the vintage vehicles. Red Robin yelped as he tried to follow but was forced to dodge a bouncing tire. Robin was far more nimble making his way through the mess, but he was still delayed enough by the wreckage for Danny to dive through the vent and jump to get back to the roof of the pool house next door. As soon as he was out of range of the cameras he vanished and lifted up into the air, flying silently and invisibly. He carefully moderated his body temperature so he was exactly the same temp as the surrounding night air. He didn’t want to risk showing up on heat sensors used by the Bats. 

Danny followed another crack of his mom’s whip to where she was running just ahead of the Bat himself. He scowled as Bruce threw a pair of Batarangs at her, though he was relieved as she nimbly dodged them. Danny may have had numerous problems with the Fentons, but at least he never had to be afraid of one of them hurting each other. Seeing his mom in danger from the man who should be his dad filled him with a cold anger. He tapped his ear piece to let her know he was free of the mansion and that he was close. 

Selina stopped running and turned, to saucily sashay towards the heavily armored Batman. He had considered making his costume super flirty and evocative like his mom’s but it made him uncomfortable, like ants were on his skin to have people stare at him like that. Jazz had reminded him that he didn’t have to do everything exactly like Selina did, and that it was important for him to carve his own path forward. 

“Catwoman. Enough is enough. I need you to submit to testing. You are being controlled.” Batman growled, and Danny struggled not to growl right back. He wasn’t controlling her! And how dare this jerk growl at his mom!

“Submit? To you? That’s not how our arrangements usually work.” Selina said with a coy smile as she swished her whip across the rooftop, not even acknowledging the rest of his words. Apparently after the past couple of months she had grown bored with trying to argue with him, and she was refusing to be tested for mind control just to antagonize him. 

Also, gross. 

That was another reason he was glad he didn’t copy her flirty persona. His mom was very comfortable with her body and her sexuality and she admitted she got a thrill when she used either to control people around her. Danny, who was still coming to terms with possibly being ace and had all the body issues of a bullied teen, only felt anxious when he tried to flirt. 

He crept through the air towards his mom, pulling strongly on his intangibility and control of his own temperature to make himself completely undetectable. He carefully watched the Bat for any sudden moves. 

“Catwoman-” 

“Don’t you ever get tired?” Selina asked, still playfully swishing her whip across the roof. “You’re so certain you’re right, even after months, even in the face of all evidence. Honestly you’re just like the Fentons. I know you��ve looked into them, think about that the next time you want to have me submit to your battery of tests.” 

Bruce tried to keep his emotions locked down, but Danny could see the micro expression even with the heavy cowl. The small twitch would have been a full flinch in a lesser man. Danny’s scowl deepened as he realized just how similar he was to the Fentons. He just hoped this time wouldn’t end with him strapped to a table. 

“Selina-” 

His voice had softened, but Danny saw his mom move her arm to the side, the signal they had agreed on. He grabbed her, passing his flight and intangibility to her as he allowed his invisibility to roll back enough to reveal his grinning mask. Bruce stiffened, his lips tightening in fury. He reached for some tool from his belt, but Danny wasn’t going to stay around to see what it was. He lifted his mom effortlessly from the roof, and let himself giggle as he rocked his head side to side as his invisibility rolled over him until just his smile was visible, before vanishing completely. 

He flew with his mom in his arms, finding themselves on the other side of Gotham close to Selina’s old penthouse. He set her down and pulled his invisibility back so they both appeared out of thin air. He knew the rictus grin on his mask and the cat’s eyes on his goggles were glowing brightly as his core flared in delight. 

“Amazing job, Chess.” Selina said fondly, pulling him to a hug before she pushed his cowl back so she could kiss his head. Danny held her tightly and let his core purr wildly to show his delight. She pulled back her own cowl, revealing her face and her tight black curls. She looked him over closely to make sure he was uninjured. “Cheshire, you and I are a team made in thief heaven. I look forward to watching your perspective as you went in.”

Danny smiled widely, and pulled his own goggles over his head, and lowered his mask. 

“It was great! I even made that trick shot I was practicing, brought the whole rack down onto his stupid fake vintage cars. Of course if they were real, they would basically shrug it off, but they crumpled! Ruined his whole collection.” 

Danny had started floating as he laughed through his retelling. He transformed with a thought, his ghost form matching his Cheshire costume more and more as the months went by. His tail whipped back and forth through the air as he excitedly paced back and forth above the roof they were on. 

“Danny…” He paused at the solemn tone in his mom’s voice. She had a sad tilt to her eyebrows that he had noticed she had occasionally when she looked at him in his ghost form. 

“Y-yeah?” His voice cracked a little, he was more trepidatious than he wanted to admit. 

“Danny, would you like a grave?” Selina asked. 

He felt like the word thundered through his head, and he found himself landing on the roof next to his mom, his mouth open.

[johnhwatsonblog]

Happy Sunday!

[eliteseven]

....had some more thoughts as I was fic brainstorming 😅

ShadowTav Cottagecore HC's: Cooking with Emmeline

-I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Neither Shadowheart nor Tav can actually cook. It was done by others in camp. In Tav's past, she was a noble: she had a kitchen staff. In her life as a knight: meals were provided or she was scrounging up whatever she could find. Hardly the makings of a gourmet.

-Shadowheart is just as bad. Cloister meals were...questionable. She adopted finer tastes infiltrating these fancy gatherings, so she and Tav both have lofty aspirations in the kitchen and absolutely nO way to back it up

-Cue Emmeline: Now that she's living a stable, happy life in her guest cottage with Arnell, getting to see her daughter safe, married, free of Shar....it does wonders for her. She gets her game back. There are mouths to feed- and no one with skill! She saves the day!!

-It starts with Emmeline baking her apple-plum pie for Shadowheart (this happens in BTYR!). If you didn't read it, long story short: Shadowheart is ecstatic because it instantly brings back real, honest-to-gods memories of childhood for her. To the point where she can close her eyes and picture it.

-Naturally, Tav is in love with the sight of Shadowheart so blissfully happy. So she takes it upon herself to consult with Emmeline and get the ingredients every week, and they make something new together each time.

-Tav offers to make herself scarce and let the mother-daughter duo bond, but Emmeline wants "both her daughters" to learn her craft. (Yes, Tav cries when she hears that) 😭

-Emmeline is so patient with them. They're idiots:

-Shadowheart zones out watching Tav's long fingers kneading the dough when they make bread. Any instructions told to her during this period are forever lost. She's utterly useless until she snaps out of it. Tav actually listens, she wants to impress Emmeline

-Shadowheart gets some flour on her cheek. Tav goes to remove it. Makes it worse. Shadowheart retaliates. They have a flour fight. Make flour clouds as they hurl it at each other. When the dust settles and they've collapsed into a messy, laughing heap on the floor, they notice Emmeline standing there, covered head to toe. She looks exasperated, but really, she's delighted that Shadowheart is still the same fun-loving, mischievous little girl. And now she has a partner in crime. 🥹💕

-Tav and Shadowheart do learn, eventually. They cook each other supper. They make Emmeline and Arnell food, too. They have reached unmatched levels of domesticity. Sometimes Shadowheart will wrap herself around Tav while she cooks, sometimes Tav reads to Shadowheart and hangs out in their tiny kitchen while she does the cooking.

-Emmeline is finally satisfied, knowing her daughter and her bride won't be starving to death any time soon, should anything happen to her ❤️

[bubzebii]

Yan Michelangelo hc

OK so-

I literally had a thought abt this and it was so jarring and crazy I had to write abt it. Keep in mind that writing is NOT my strong suit so bare with me okay. Also for the record I don’t condone any of this stuff Irl okay, there’s a diff between fantasy and reality.

TW: dark, possessive themes, gore, blood, cannibalism, mentions of worship, nonconsensual touching (not sexual), kidnapping, delulu Mikey <3

When you guys first meet, after the initial freak out you might have, he gets attached quick

It’s love at first sight <3

Could you blame him tho? He’s socially outcasted from society ofc not-

Anything you want? You got it! He will do anything to get that thing you barely mentioned wanting, no matter what

He would definitely try budding in every time your with anybody but him

Skateboarding with Leo? He happens to walk in with a skateboard. Having a tea party with Raph? You guys look like your running out of tea, but don’t fear! Your new butler is here!

Point is, he’s fine with sharing your time because like all good things, it’s even better when shared! He just has to be there too…you don’t mind right?

Won’t mind if you get a partner…

Just don’t expect to hear from them if they have the AUDACITY to make you so much as frown-

He doesn’t need to be your center of attention 24/7, he’s a secure turtle after all. He just wants to be near you, to keep you happy and safe!

Even if you can’t tell he’s there-

He is a VERY Delusional Yandere, you can be doing the most devious, horrendous war crimes and he’ll still think your a saint, everyone else is in the wrong for being in your way

Anyone who talks bad abt you, well… you can’t waste perfectly tenderized meat can you!

Real talk for a sec, I see a lot of people hc Mikey to be a heavy worshipper but I don’t think he’d think your a GOD, going down on his knees for you, but I think he’d see you as a angel and treat you as such

How? Lots and LOTS of cuddles (even if you don’t want to), positive affirmations, and overall codling

Cutie pie, angel, sweet potato, expect lots of cheesy nicknames

Now onto the juicy stuff-

Cooking, in his opinion, is a form of ART! Something to express himself with while also sharing that experience with his loved ones

Putting so much blood sweat and tears into perfecting his craft, creating a delectable meal for all

So imagine his (not so) sudden shock when he starts fantasizing abt you…eating him…literally…

HEAR ME OUT OKAY PLEASE-

In that one meat sweats ep, he was SO DOWN TO BE EATEN, because he sees Rupert in a higher light, he’s his idol!

He put his own blood sweat and tears for you, your his everything! This is his declaration of love for you and you alone, the one dish he won’t give to anybody else

At first he felt an immense satisfaction when you chowed down on the dishes he made specially for you, the sight made his chest swell!

But soon that feeling faded, something inside him started wanting more, until it eventually became Mikey’s every waking thought, pounding against his ribs until it’s satisfied again

So he did what any rational person would do! Invite you down for a taste test! Hah you thought I would say kidnapping didn’t you?

…

Well your right, he may or may not have laced those pastries you were taste testing

“Think of it as a forever slumber party! I knew you’d be just as excited as me, can’t hold in those happy tear too huh? :’)”

He really believes you want to stay as much as he wants you to stay, doesn’t matter what you do, you’ll always be his saint, wanting to stay by his side <3

You have a specially made “room” hidden in his room, that you stay in

Has all the necessities and everything, thanks dee

He often comes by to chat, make arts and crafts, and cuddle you, he’s barely out of his room even his brothers start to worry

Can’t have his brothers believe your…”funny” jokes now huh? They’d ruin the fun!

Starts to ever so slowly try to get you to agree with his… idea

Slowly starts incorporating more meat into the meals he makes you, mentioning how turtle is a delicacy in some places- you get the idea

But in Mikey fashion, he doesn’t like to wait to get what he wants

He suddenly starts asking you strange questions from, “did you know that cute hamsters cannibalize each other? CRAZY right!?” To “have you ever wanted to know what turtle taste like..?”

Eventually his patience thins and nervously asks the big question, but you’d understand right? Ofc you would! He shouldn’t be so nervous around you!

Ofc after hearing his request you start to understandably freak out, will he want to take a bite out of you too? Is this it? You don’t want to die like this!

Don’t worry! he could never ruin perfection, your a work of art!

(He’ll be happy breaking your skin with his teeth and lapping up the blood tho)

Surprisingly, he won’t FORCE you to do it, but be prepared for his mighty persistence and requests

He’s pretty much trying to hype you up

If you cave he is OVER THE MOON

He is inside you.. LITERALLY (idk how else to phrase it don’t be weird pls-)

Constant praise and affection is what you earn while you contemplate what you had just done

If you don’t cave, he’ll start to get a bit aggressive with his hype, and starts slowly giving you less and less food you until you do it-

Before he kidnapped you he was a bit clingy, but AFTER? Attached to your hip 24/7 baby

5/10 experience, you will be scarred for life leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth. But other than that expect lots and lots of cuddles and delicious not human food!

Sorry if it’s a bit all over the place, pls lmk if I made a spelling/grammar mistake. Writing this was actually very fun, I might do more in the future until I draw again. Maybe I’ll do both!Okay thx for reading tho bye :>

-f1oricide <3

[connorsnothereeither]

in a hyperthetical modern au, what tv shows or music you think your characters would like?

hmmmmm I’ve been cooking on this question since you sent it-

Ulysses: I feel like Ulysses is very folk music and blues, leaning into jazz maybe, when it comes to what he listens to. Maybe some classic rock in there, and I sometimes picture him listening to big band music from like,,, early 20th century, for some reason. I honestly really think,,, that Ulysses loves sitcoms and soap operas. I think he likes things like Friends, How I Met Your Mother, maybe even leaning into things like the Office. I think he fucking ADORES Grey’s Anatomy. If it’s not his favourite it’s close. Ulysses would find them comforting: long running shows with endless episodes. Something he could put on as a safety blanket because they’re like familiar friends. A season by season chronology of these characters lives; learning, growing, falling in love, discovering themselves. It’s the find of thing he writes about, after all. The history of peoples lives.

Virgil: Music wise, I think he listens to classical music a lot of the time honestly? I think he just likes it as background noise. The obvious answer feels like it would be true crime… but I don’t think so. I think Virgil knows true crime would be harmful for him to watch because it would feed his paranoia. But I think he LOVES quirky procedural dramas and monster of the week shows. Psych, Bones, Elementary, veering into the realms of Twin Peaks, X-Files, Buffy and Supernatural, even Gravity Falls. Things where there’s enough meat for him to sink his problem solving conspiracy brain into the lore, and the magic systems, and the week by week whodunnits, but fictional enough that he can, if he needs to, pull himself away.

Daniel Thorns: I think Dan in a modern AU would dig folk music a lot. I also think he’s a big fan of… whatever kind of horny yearning modern alt rock shit the can Dan & Neph playlist has going on lmao- but he probably has a soft spot for 2000s pop rock. In terms of TV… I don’t know honestly. I don’t think he’s the kind of guy to watch TV much. I think he likes,,, cooking shows. Great British Bake-off type beat. I think he puts them on in the background while he crafts and does leather working :)

Leopold: points at this 1920s bitch. That’s a Jazz Man. He likes Jazz. Even in modern day. In terms of TV shows, I think Leopold has a guilty pleasure for cosy mystery shows. Agatha Christie’s Poirot, Murder She Wrote, maybe even something like Only Murders in the Building. He just thinks they’re fun and cosy and he curls up with a hot drink and blankets on his big couch to watch them at night before he goes to bed. I think Daisy and Owen say they hate them and it’s cringey but will also get super engrossed walking by halfway through an episode, and up falling asleep on the couch with him while he watches them, and when he’s finished Leo carries them each to their room, despite the fact they’re like, fully 18 and 16.

C.W. Hare: This is gonna sound like a bad rabbit joke. But genuinely… I think he’d really like hip hop. Hip hop, R&B, potentially rap. I don’t know, there’s an energy to him that just screams it to me. TV show wise is complicated… I’m not sure honestly. I don’t think he watches a ton of TV by himself, but I think he will watch anything his friends put on because he wants to spend time with them and engage with the things they like. He’d watch anything J. Amp, or even Beckett, Artisan, or potentially even Jay puts on. He doesn’t watch the show for the show, he watches it to spend time with people.

[spacecowboywhit]

Tabletop Trick or Treat!

Ahh! I missed this in the flurry of boops and election crisis. Sorry, @werewolf914! I will share examples of a whole mini-genre of RPGs that I love:

Moments in History You Would Not Expect to Gamify!

Oyster Pirates by @rollforthings - Based on Jack London's journalism/short story, you are independent fisher-thieves in San Francisco Bay in 1888, illegally harvesting at night from the giant oyster monopolies and running from the police in high-speed fishing sailboat chases. Cool setting and awesome aquatic-heist rules!

The Kingdom of Prester John by @kor-artificer - A fun solo game where you are an emissary from the pope in 1177, seeking the fabled Kingdom of Prester John. Also definitely worth mentioning his other solo game, Scribe about the collapse of civilization in the Bronze Age.

Malandros by Thomas McGrenery/Porcupine Publishing - Brazilian communities coming together in the late 19th century in the immediate aftermath of the abolition of slavery in the country and the imminent transition from imperial monarchy to a republic. Tell stories that are slice-of-life, crime/gangsters/con-artists, underground martial artists, or even urban-folk-fantasy.

Beecher's Bibles by Noora Rose/Monkey's Paw Games - Blood-soaked, antislavery abolitionists in Kansas, USA in the 1850s fighting pro-slavery land owners, lawmen, and militias. Adapts the Panic Engine and Mothership rules to a very different setting.

Blackout by @open-sketchbook - There are ~54,857 RPGs of various quality where you play a soldier or spy in WWII. There are not nearly so many where you play civilians trying to survive through it. Excellent adaptation of PBTA rules. A game of war and violence, where the PCs are not the direct participants in that.

The Girls of the Genziana Hotel by @hendrik-ten-napel - The chambermaids in a hotel in the Bavarian Alps in the 1820s solve a mystery at night and navigate work and personal relationships during the day. Cool, eerie, unique. Uses the Brindlewood rules very well!

Rosewood Abbey by Kalum from The Rolistes - Monks in a 12th Century monastery solve mysteries, ala Cadfael, The Name of the Rose, or Pentiment. Also uses the Brindlewood rules very effectively!

WURM: Roleplaying in the Ice Age by Emmanuel Roudier/Dakikan - I have read this game twice and still can't decide if it's actually good or just interesting. It's slice-of-life during the paleolithic era, specifically with the coexistence between neanderthals and homo sapiens. Interesting mechanics, especially for things like survival, crafting, cooking, simply lighting a fire, and even a bunch of rules around childbirth and raising.

[serenit-teas]

This is the product of too much brainrot and an almost concerning level of needing to ramble.

Major spoilers for Lies of P under the cut!!

Okay but just imagine, someway somehow being young friends with Carlo, sweet and darling childhood friends. Being his partner in crime, an unwilling (so you say) accomplice to any mischievous schemes he's cooked up. Racing about the streets of Krat, dodging this way and that, weaving through the alleyways and corners with a second natured ease due to each and every prior antic you two have had.

I imagine that only after narrowly dodging the poor soul who gave chase to you both has finally given up, does Carlo turn to you, a cheeky but rosy grin thrown your way. You can only huff and turn your head, complaining at once again being dragged into another one of his hair brained plots. 'This is the final straw', you think to yourself, 'no more of these chases'. Always the voice of reason you called yourself, the only one who cares enough to keep the two of you out of scuffles and minimizing consequences. The other half of your duo would simply angle his brows, matched with a boyish smile, brown eyes warm, a teasing call of, 'Worry wart', aimed your way.

You'd stay firm in your silence.

Seconds of the silent treatment turns to minutes, and you truly could have lasted longer, but the floor is uncomfortable and your legs are going numb, and it certainly doesn't help that Carlo keeps shuffling around in the already cramped space. You know what he's doing, trying to goad you into breaking your 'punishment' and demanding he knock it off. It takes all you have not to heave a sigh. It truly makes you wonder how you've both become such good friends.

Finally having enough of your hiding spot and the scuffing of Carlo's shoes, you turn your head, relenting. And he's close. Far to close. Clearly he's never once heard of personal space, face in your personal bubble. A startled yelp is ripped from your lips and you scramble back, knocking your back into the wall.

He doesn't have the decency to even attempt to hide his snort of laughter. 

A menace to the core, mischievous Carlo.

You want to be peeved, annoyed at his inability to take anything seriously. But you see the joy in his smile and hear the way his laugh rings loud and true, gaze fond and sweet directed your way and soon enough you're laughing as well, giggling and smiling. Stomach aching, 'It hurts' , echoing somewhere in your head. It doesn't matter though, not when your head feels light and your cheeks warm. Tears welling at the corners of your eyes as you gasp for breath.

It's a simple and sweet bond, crafted out of trust and comfort, familiarity and warmth.

-

The news of his death rattles something terrible in you. A hollow, numbing feeling pools, spreading like tar, thick and heavy in your body. Fog building in your head, an anchor on your tongue. He's died, and with that has taken something of yours with him. They call it 'mourning', you've learned, something people do when a great loss is suffered. Meant to process grief and what was taken far too early. To cope, live on despite. 

Whispers of sympathy and prayers permeate the streets, details of the accident are few and talk of honoring his life are fewer. Carlo and his fate hang over the city of Krat.

Haunts you. 

Far too young are you to feel such a cruel twist of fate, the unsettling truth of what happens to everyone and everything. Something changes, curdles in your chest when made way to grieve. He's left you behind with the knowledge of the irrefutable.

Hours turn to days which bleed into weeks, and soon tragedy is washed away with the  rainstorms that berate the city. Between the haze in your mind and the bustling murmur of the crowded streets, it's a miracle that you hear the call of your name.

He approaches you in the streets little more than a month after the news broke out, a light spring in his step. For a corpse, he seems plenty lively. Bright grin plain as day on his face, freckled cheeks scrunching with that familiar mischief swimming in his blue eyes. 

But Carlo is gone. Cold and dead, mourned and missed, and you don't know who this is. You look a little harder, gaze sharper.

Blue. Wrong. Fake. 

Get away.

You reel back with your heart thumping wild, ignoring the confusion that shows on his face, tears forming with a barbed response on the tip of your tongue and an awful ringing buzzes in your ears. What a sick joke. 

Eyes still glued to the stranger, you step back. Slow at first, timid and careful, all before bolting away, ears picking up on the squawk of surprise sounding behind you.

You don't know where you're going. There's no plan in escape, you just have to get away from whatever that was. You barely have it in you to call out apologies for the people you nearly bump into. Your legs carry you between tall buildings and hidden corners of the streets, ducking and weaving, narrowly avoiding clipping your shoulder on the hard stone and splintering wood. Before you know it, you recognize the similar darkened streets that you had used in your own escapes with Carlo so many times before.

This part of the city was always dim, secluded and safe, street lights had not yet been installed around these areas, much to the frustration of those who lived in these parts. It never took long for a blanket of darkness to fall over the buildings and homes when the sun began it's descent and shadows would set just right.

Heartbeat drumming in your ears and chest aching, you reach blindly, feeling for a wall to lean your weight on. Panting, hunched over and gulping air down like a fish desperate for water. Head numb and mind humming with exhaustion.

'What was that? Some elaborate scheme? A prank?'

Any further thoughts are halted when you notice the pounding of footsteps behind you. Calculated and heavy, he, it, knows where you are. Probably followed you the whole time.

It's close, and with dread making it's home in your veins do you realize that you've nowhere left to go, you've lead yourself to a complete dead end. That fake will round the corner any minute and you'll be a sitting duck.

The sound of footfalls slows the closer it gets, you'd almost call it hesitant if you weren't scared out of your wits. Steps echo between the corridor walls, that awful, full body shake inducing panic shoots through you once more, an ice cold fear nestling deep in your bones.

'Leave me alone. He's gone. Please stop.' Stress plucks at your fears like an instrument, each strum yanks at your heart, leaves you anxious and paralyzed.

Had your heart not been hammering in your chest and pulse thrumming in your fingertips, you'd probably feel much more self conscious about the whimper that leaves your lips, weak and pitiful. Loud. Palms fly to your mouth, your hands clamping tight with a sting. Eyes screwing shut in fear.

The steps halt altogether, the only sounds you can register is the beat of your heart and the shallow, rapid breaths leaving your lips. It's cramped and cold where you are, jagged stone digging into your back.

A few feet away you hear a breath catch in someone's throat, and like earlier, a call of your name, only this time it's said with as much tenderness as a lullaby. Gentle. Soothing. Your eyes twitch just for a moment. It's unfair, using Carlo's voice like that. You know if you look there will be no going back, no denying what's happening. 

You hear the call of your name ring out one more time, small and fragile, and you open your eyes. 

There he stands, confusion clear on his face, brows loosely raised and lips set into a small frown. Taking your subtle acknowledgment as encouragement it looks as if he intends to close the distance between you, though the hope is quickly dashed when he sees you scramble at his advance, pushing yourself as far as you can go into the corner furthest away from him. You remind him of a wounded animal, an uncomfortable feeling clambers in his chest at the thought and his frown deepens.

A different approach is what he goes for this time, slowly, at a snail's pace, does he reach his arm out. Even in your manic state you still manage to toss an incredulous look his way, taking every bit of his common sense and resolve to not laugh at the expression. He'll gladly take whatever he can get, he'd do anything to prevent that fearful gleam in your eyes, squash any chance of being the cause of it himself.

You both stay in this standstill for what feels to be an eternity, eyes locked and unwavering, waiting to see who will crack first. A genuine gasp leaves his lips when he sees you reach out, shaking fingertips lightly brushing against his own. This is your call, he will follow your lead in this dance. 

Finally, you stand to your full height and at a much slower pace does he do the same, and then you're back to staring at him, eyes flicking about his person this way and that, analysing everything. Normally he'd say you're overreacting, call you a 'worrier ' and be done with it, but he knows better. You've changed, something has happened to you in his month's absence and he doesn't like it one bit, you stare at him like he's a stranger, ran as if he'd flashed a weapon from underneath his sleeve.

So wrapped up in his own thoughts, he barely catches what you've said to him, mind struggling to put the puzzle pieces together. Ever the merciful out of your duo, you repeat yourself,

"What are you?".

'Huh.'

-

(Basically!!!! What if Carlo still perished, and P was still built to replace him, and Geppetto, in a frantic and guilt ridden haze builds a new son at an astounding speed, and with using such a, uh, 'fresh' Ergo leads to P 'waking up' nearly instantaneously. So rather than being a puppet becoming human, P is a 'human' coming to terms with what he actually is.

This is all over the place, but I imagine Geppetto would keep P's interactions with others to a definitive minimum, if P ever asked about it Geppetto would chalk it all up to his son being weakened so severely by his accident that he would need near constant supervision to maintain his health. Tells P that Ergo is what is keeping him alive, it's why his eyes are now blue and how he can wield the weighty legion arm with such ease.

Only a trusted few are allowed to know of his existence. I mean? The entire city mourned his son, he can't exactly have an almost carbon copy strolling about the streets. Reader is probs not at the top of Geppetto's 'can tell list' lol. I'm fully leaning into the idea that Carlo/P snuck out and went absolutely wild looking their bud lmao. Poor fella doesn't know that visiting reader is gonna come with a side of confusion and an unwanted existential crisis/soul searching😔

And final thing! I have not finished Lies of P, nor have I even reached a single ending (but I'm making progress every day! <:) ), so I apologize if any details are choppy, confusing, or don't align with what is canon! I don't know how Carlo died, and I do not wish to be spoiled, this was just a fun sort of AU(?) thought that just kept snowballing ^^; Thank you everyone for your time, I sincerely hope this wasn't too much of a mess, and that it was at least an entertaining read! <:) )

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Can you explain the relationship between Reader and the Manhattan Gargoyles in the longest night au?

Goliath is dad shaped and I would really like to know how Reader fits into their weird family

Okay! Great question! (FINALLY! SOMEONE ASKS ABOUT THE LONGEST NIGHT AU!!!)

Okay, here's the gist:

Reader is a teen who knows Elisa Maza, survived a horrible crime (murder, an attack, attempted murder, etc.), and is with Elisa as her ward and for protection. Reader meets the Gargoyles through her, and is quick to see Goliath as dad-shaped, Hudson as a grandpa, Bronx is like a sweet, giant puppy, and the young gargoyles as kinda-brothers/kinda-friends. It's hard NOT to like them, plus they're so so SO cool (Reader loved gargoyles and dragons and snakes).

For Goliath, Reader is like a shared custody child between him and Elisa. He sees them as younger than they are, and wants what he thinks is best for them. They're a friend to his kids, they aren't scared of them, and they've been hurt before and need help and protection, so Reader is very adoptive child-shaped to him. (It doesn't help that gargoyles age half as fast as humans, so even if Reader was 20, he'd see them as like, 10). When the artifact or magic affects him, he becomes ten times more parental, is obsessed with all his kids being where he can see them and in the same place, and will do anything to keep them with him...

For Hudson, Reader is like one of the young gargoyles. They ask questions, they try to get him to do something with them, they like books and games and watch TV with him, so they're already like part of the clan. Of course, they're also a little more breakable than a gargoyle, so that means having to be extra careful when playfighting or wrestling or playing games. (He's seen human children, he knows a bit more than the others, but still not a lot). When the artifact/magic comes into play, he starts guarding the younger members of the clan, acts very protective, and keeps herding them to safety or curling around them if they're in a nest...

For Brooklyn, Reader is like a partner-in-crime. He does something, the also come along. He wants food, they seem to want some, too. He does something and gets hurt, they're there to aid him. They're already like a sibling, whether he'd ever admit it or not. When the artifact gets involved, it regressed the younger gargoyles a bit, moving them into a slightly younger, slightly more primal mindset, such as wanting to nest, preferring to have hatchmates around, and wanting Goliath and Hudson and Elisa to be there for comfort and warmth...

For Broadway, Reader is like a younger friend. They share interests, like reading and learning how to cook from Elisa, but they're also both kind. (When the artifact happens, it affects Broadway the same as the other two younger gargoyles)...

For Lexington, Reader is helpful, but someone to get to know. They're curious, and while not a gargoyle, they have some pretty neat tricks he tries to learn about, while they try to learn crafting and building from him. (When the artifact happens, it affects Lexington the same way it affects the other two younger gargoyles)...

Bronx likes that Reader feeds him treats. He doesn't mind licking them, following them, or sleeping near them. (Acts mostly the same after the artifact).

(And the artifact affects humans, too...)

(Thank you, @sugar-soda!)