#i absolutely want to write the hell out of this now

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Love your DC content!! Can you write something olderbf bruce becoming a parent with younger reader? Or bestfriend jason finding out reader is dating dick?

Thank you 💜

Omg absolutely!! Tysm for the request and I definitely want to write the one for Jason at some point in the future, buttt for now, because its 2 AM, you'll get some OlderBF! Bruce :)

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OlderBF! Bruce Wayne Becoming a Parent

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who finds out that you're pregnant before you even know. To be fair, it didn't take the world's greatest detective to notice the menstrual products in your master bathroom that haven't been touched in the past two months or so.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who makes you feel silly for ever being nervous about telling him that you're pregnant, even though he's freaking out a little on the inside.

Your day was long. Long enough that your back had been aching and your feet and ankles were sore. Hell, you could barely keep your eyes open while standing, how the hell could you exoect yourself to stay awake while laying down on one of the lavish couches in Wayne Manor's library? But, in the blink of an eye (literally), you were awoken by Bruce carefully taking off your shoes. Had you really just passed out on the spot? Pregnancy symptoms must've been hitting you a little harder than you thought...

"Any morning sickness today?" He asks casually as he finishes taking off your other shoe before pressing a kiss to your knee.

"No... It's been alright." You answer without thinking too much about the question. But after a few moments of relishing in the heavenly feeling of Bruce rubbing your swollen feet, the question clicks. "Wait, I can explain-"

"And so can the pads and tampons in the bathroom that haven't been used in two months." He answers before you can finish, his tone as casual as if he were talking about the rainy Gotham weather. "Were you going to tell me?" Bruce asks as he continues his minstrations on your sore feet, his thumbs pressing into your aching arches.

"Of course I was." You answer without hesitation, because you knew you could never keep a secret from Bruce for too long. He was far too observant for that. Yet another difference between him and the younger guys you've dated. "I just couldn't find a good time."

"Look at me, sweetheart." His voice is soft as he tilts your chin towards him, gently stroking your jaw in such a soothing manner that you may just fall asleep again. "Any time is a good time to talk to me about something like this, alright? I don't care how many work meetings I have or how late it is; you are always my top priority."

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who doesn't expect you to keep the baby, nor does he let you go through making a decision on your own. By the time you hit your third month, the two of you had talked maybe three to four times about what would be best for you, because you are the most important person in his life.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is immediately at your side for every will and command from that moment on. He knows that this is your first child and just how hard the pregnancy will be on your body, so he refuses to risk anything. You need water? He's already there with a glass and small snack for you. You need to use the bathroom on one of the rare nights that he's home? He's already helping you out of bed and giving you long, tired hugs as soon as you stand before leading you to the master bathroom.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who starts taking a few more nights off whenever he can from his patrols just to be there for you and the tiny life inside your womb. He trusts that Dick can handle Gotham for a few nights on his own every once in a while, for your sake.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who still hasn't told you about his double life as a vigilante, but finally starts considering it. As soon as he started looking at rings, he knew he'd have to come clean eventually. He needed you in his life far more than he thought he'd ever need anyone or anything.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who doesn't let the paparazzi near you at all throughout your pregnancy. In fact, he's tried to keep you inside as much as possible to avoid them, since the two of you never made a public announcement. It was for your safety as much as it was for his sanity.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is right there as soon as the contractions start (after his initial shock and internal panic attack). He doesn't leave your side for a moment, not even when he's certain you've fractured something in his hand from how hard you're gripping it.

There was almost a swarm of motion around you in the private hospital room you were set up in. Your contractions were coming in strong, and so was your grip on Bruce's hand. "Bruce, I can't do this," well, its a little late for that, "it's too much." You're practically sobbing at this point as you feel the foreboding pressure of an oncoming attraction in your uterus.

"Yes, you can." Bruce is sitting in a chair right next to your bed, the guardrail down while he has one arm around your shoulders and his free hand being crushed by your grip. "I'm right here. You've already made it this far, sweetheart."

And, for a moment, you almost believe him. Until another contraction comes rattling through your body, this one far stronger than the rest you've experienced. "I cant, I can't, I can't, I can't." Is all you can cry out in utter agony, your knuckles turned white as you grip Bruce's hand.

"Do you have any idea how close you are to being done?" He asks as he gently rubs your shoulder, trying not to show just how painful your grip on his hand is. "Five more minutes, alright? Five more minutes of suffering for a lifetime of happiness. Do you think you can handle that for me, sweetheart?"

And, despite your body feeling like its burning and being torn in half, you nod. In what feels like mere moments later, the sound of shrilling cries fill the delivery room. Bruce swears it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who, for the first time in literal years, cries while holding your infant. His face is red, cheeks are tear-stained, and his beautiful blue eyes are puffy and watery: the same beautiful blue eyes that your baby has.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is pampering you in affection and attention for the entire time you're in the hospital. Every single craving you've had but couldn't satisfy for the past nine months, he already has brought to you in bed.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who, when the baby is taken by nurses for examinations a day or two after the birth, shows you a ring. A beautiful, beautiful ring that fits your left hand perfectly and shimmers in the bright hospital lights. Your engagement ring.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who has a private, simple wedding with you, Alfred, his adoptive children, and your beautiful newborn. The press was too risky to deal with for a public wedding, and Bruce wanted those special moments to just be for your family, not for the media's prying eyes.

OlderHusband! Bruce Wayne who is there for as many milestones as he can be. First steps? He's got the camera. Their first words? "Dada." Their baby teeth coming in? He's already bought those little tooth-shaped containers for when they fall out in a couple of years.

OlderHusband! Bruce Wayne who always knew it was you. You were the best thing to have ever happened in his life, and he refused to mess that up. He knew that, eventually, he would have to tell you about his double life as the Caped Crusader, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

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Masterlist

[ahyperactivehero]

i asked on election night if anyone wanted a little drabble to help with the stress, and unfortunately it has taken me a little longer than i would like to get them out!

@det-agency: please write Edwin getting turned into an orb for the first time pre-canon and Charles freaking out i think itd be so fun

(fun fact, this is my first orb fic! i've wanted to write one for a minute, but this is the first that i've actually sat down and wrote out!)

Drabble 5 (Orb Fic)

London, 1991

Getting chased by a vengeful ghost was not exactly what Charles had planned for when they’d set off to speak to their client, but he supposed that’s what you get being a ghost detective.

Edwin sprinted ahead of him, his long legs easily giving him the speed that he needed to leave their client in the dust. 

“Who woulda thought our client was the guilty one?” Charles yelled out to Edwin, who glanced over his shoulder. 

“It is certainly a twist,” Edwin said. He suddenly veered off to the right, racing towards the bedroom mirror they had come through earlier. If they could get there, they could head back to their newly established office and regroup. They’d certainly need to think of a better plan now that their client had turned on them and absolutely wasted their original suspect.

Edwin reached the mirror, his hand outstretched as he concentrated on getting them back to the office. Charles turned around, his hands immediately finding comfort in his cricket bat. If that bastard even thought about getting close to them he’d smash him.

“Come on,” he heard Edwin mutter under his breath. “Find it, find it, find it.”

Mirror travel was something Charles had yet to master, but Edwin was aces at it. It would probably only take him a second before–

A choked, gasping sound came from behind him, followed by the tell-tale sound of someone stepping through a mirror. He spun around, worried for a moment that Edwin might have fallen through the mirror and been separated from him, when he felt his soul go cold.

Their client, Geoff Mann, stepped from the mirror. His hand was already through, and in his fist was an iron knife.

An iron knife covered in ghostly blood.

“Edwin!” Charles yelled, rushing forward just as Edwin staggered backwards.

His hands were on his throat, blood seeping through his fingers. Charles felt panic like he never had before. Iron hurt ghosts, but could it kill them? Was stabbing enough to obliterate a ghost? Maybe not, but what about cutting their throat?

Edwin fell straight into his arms, and Charles would have dropped his cricket bat if it weren’t for the vengeful ghost of their client standing over them. Blood dripped off of the knife and pooled on the carpet and it seemed wrong that it wouldn’t actually stain it. Not that Charles wanted anything to be stained with his best friend’s blood, it just seemed wrong that it wouldn’t.

“Hold on,” he said in what he hoped was his most reassuring voice. Gently, and without looking away from Geoff, he slid Edwin to the floor. He ignored his hand dragging down Charles’s arm, begging him to stay– to not leave him alone.

This would only take a moment. Besides, he needed to take care of the threat before he tended to Edwin.

“You fucked up,” Charles said, twirling his bat. Geoff didn’t even have the decency to look the least bit frightened. 

“You’re gonna make me move on,” Geoff said. “And I ain’t doin’ it.”

They weren’t. That’s not what their Agency did. They couldn’t force someone to move on if they didn’t want to. It wasn’t even what Geoff had originally hired them for!

But none of that mattered now. Not when Edwin was behind him, gasping and potentially dying. 

(He wasn’t even sure what dying would mean for a ghost. Would he go back to Hell? Disappear?)

He didn’t even give him a chance to respond. He swung his bat against his arm, almost enjoying the way it cracked and forced him to drop his knife.

Charles wasn’t a violent person, no matter how much he feared being like his father. But the satisfaction he got from seeing that man drop to his knees in pain after what he’d done to Edwin? Well, he might need to reflect on that.

The urge to keep going was strong– after all, what was to stop him from coming after them later? – but he forced himself to stop. 

“If anything happens to him,” Charles warned, holding out his bat against the other man’s head. “I’m comin’ back.”

Quicker than the other man could react, he bent down and picked up his knife and turned back to get Edwin. 

He laid there, air and blood gurgling as he tried to keep his wound closed. At some point his eyes had screwed shut, like that might help block out the pain. They sprang open at the first sign of Charles’s touch, that faint bit of panic he’d seen when something reminded him of Hell shooting across his face before flattening out into something more manageable.

“Let's go,” Charles said. He put his hands under his armpits, intending to haul Edwin up if he had to, but a flash of light overwhelmed his vision and Edwin disappeared.

“Edwin!” he yelled and looked from hand to hand as if he might have somehow been hiding there. 

A small orb, just a bit bigger than a cricket ball, floated there in front of him. There was no trace of Edwin, just the small, pulsing yellow orb.

“Edwin?” he asked, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

The orb bobbed for a moment, as if it were answering. The yellow seemed to glow brighter for a second before dimming until it was a faded, off-white color. 

Forget it. Charles had no clue what was going on, but he didn’t have time for this. He snatched Edwin up and booked it through the mirror,  no destination in mind– only intent on getting them as far away as possible.

It took several tries before he got back to the office, and by then his nonexistent heartbeat had slowed down to something far more bearable. Without even thinking he tossed his bag and bat to the floor and uncovered the ball of light he’d been keeping safe in his hands.

There was an unexpected feeling to it, not quite a weight but certainly a warmth. It reminded him of when he was alive and he’d stick his cold finger next to a heater or run them under warm water once they’d gone numb.

It was the first time he’d felt warmth since he died.

He held the orb closer to his face and chest for inspection. It was perfectly round, the edges of it reminding him of an impossible mix of glass and a cloud. It wasn’t solid, but he also couldn’t put his hand through it, even if he tried.

“Edwin?” he asked again. Could this really be Edwin? What had that ghost done to him?

The orb pulsed, yellow light coming back to it before fading again into that cool, white light.

So it really must be Edwin. 

He glanced over at Edwin’s slowly growing collection of books and wondered if there was something about this in one of them. The subject of orbs had never come up before, but then again, neither one of them had ever been as hurt as Edwin was before. 

Was this what happened when something hurt them? How badly did they need to be hurt in order for it to happen? 

“Hey,” Charles said as he ran his hand over the orb. “Don’t worry, I’ve gotcha.”

There was another pulse. The orb seemed to hover above his hands for a moment before gravity seemed to take over it and it dropped back down. 

In a sheer panic, Charles caught it. Or not it, he supposed. Because this thing had to be Edwin. If it wasn’t that would mean that either Edwin was gone or he’d left him behind with their insane client. 

The idea that he might have done that nearly sent him into a tailspin. Should he double back and check? What if this was a trick and the real Edwin was somehow still there? Or what if there was something special about his knife that had turned Edwin into an orb?

Gently, he cradled Edwin to his chest as he turned to look for his bag. He’d picked up the knife, hadn’t he? Thankfully, it only took a few tries before he successfully pulled it from his bag. Ha, take that Edwin, he was getting better at using it.

“See, mate,” he said, his voice low and soft as he spoke over the orb. “I told you this bag was worth it. Already earnin’ its keep, hm?”

The handle of the knife was thankfully not iron coated. Charles hadn’t even thought about that earlier when he’d grabbed it. All he’d been thinking about was that Edwin was hurt, and he’d needed to disarm the guy.

Blood covered the blade, but aside from that there seemed to be nothing interesting about it at all. Not strange markings, no traces of magic that he could tell. It looked exactly like every other boring knife out there.

Except this one had hurt his friend.

The orb– Edwin, Charles supposed– pulsed again, the light from it peeking out between his fingers. Had Charles squeezed it by accident? He’d been so focused on the knife, so caught up in thoughts of their client hurting him that he hadn’t really…

Slowly but with more force than Charles anticipated, the orb pulled free from his hand. It bobbed around the room, floating here and there as if it were looking for something. It lingered above Edwin’s chair, the space where the other boy spent most of his time in the office. 

Yet there was nothing for it to do. It’s not like the orb had hands. It couldn’t hold a book or write or do anything that usually interested Edwin. 

As if it had realized this, it lazily floated back over to Charles. That yellow light seemed to be getting even stronger, calming Charles’s nerves just a bit. A strong light had to be a good sign, yeah? Surely that meant that Edwin was fine. 

Except what if he wasn’t fine? What if yellow was bad and he was trying to warn Charles? What if he needed help, and Charles couldn’t understand him? How was he meant to do anything if Edwin couldn’t talk to him anymore?

The orb bumped into his head, the softest, gentlest headbutt Charles had ever experienced. His thoughts slowed down as he lifted his hands up to cup the orb again.

“Well, mate,” Charles said. “What do you think we should do?” 

Edwin didn’t answer. Not that Charles thought he would.

“What if I read to you?” he asked. “I love it when you read to me. Helps me relax, yeah?”

Edwin seemed to warm up in his hands again. Charles took that as a good sign.

He strolled over to Edwin’s bookcase (our bookcase, Charles, the Edwin in his mind reminded him) and browsed their selection. Most of them were detective novels, but Edwin had recently started to collect more on magic and the supernatural.

No, he thought, should really stick to a classic.

“What about Sherlock Holmes? You love him,” he said, as if Charles didn’t also love him.

He grabbed one of their Sherlock Holmes books at random and made his way over to the couch. “Might as well get comfy, eh?” he asked and sprawled out.

For a moment, Charles was sure Edwin was going to float away. Maybe he hadn’t been as interested in reading to him as he’d thought. Instead, Edwin merely rolled down until he was resting on Charles’s chest, that warm, familiar feeling spreading all over him.

So Charles read to him. He read to him until he had finished one book, and then started on another that he could reach. His voice was a low rumble, the sound fading into the background as he split his attention between the words and Edwin. Time passed slowly and hazily, the sort of dream-like quality that only came when it didn’t really matter.

Eventually, when he thought he might go insane from reading so much, he talked. He told Edwin how he was sorry he hadn’t been fast enough to stop him– because really, Charles had been right there after all– and how he hoped that Edwin forgave him. He told him that when Edwin felt better, he would do anything he wanted. He’d even go see that play he’d been talking about that Charles couldn’t remember the name of if he wanted. And there was a show that Charles was interested in going to, but they could stand at the back where it was quieter and they were less likely to get stepped on if Edwin wanted to come.

He told him how much he missed him. How worried he was about him. How he knew that it had only been about a day since he’d gone into this form, but he didn’t think he’d missed anyone this much. Not his mum or dad, not his friends or teachers. No one.

Finally, he fell silent. He was sure that if he dug down deep enough there was more for him to say, but what was the point? Edwin was still stuck looking like the world’s brightest cricket ball, and he had just spilled about everything he had in him.

“I’m just worried,” Charles said. His arms wrapped around the orb so tightly it doubled as a self-hug. “Y’know I worry.”

Then again, maybe Edwin didn’t know. Charles loved to portray himself as this confident, friendly guy. Sure, he could be protective, but did Edwin know he was serious enough that he could worry?

Something shifted. The solid, golden color the orb had been since he’d started reading to him briefly changed. It flashed blue, a color that Charles normally loved but reminded him too much of Death in this instance, before it faded, and the orb was gone.

Before he could worry whether or not Death had actually come for them, he felt a solid weight pressing down on him. And there, in his lap, laid out across him, was Edwin. His feet were tucked up, allowing his long body to fit neatly onto the couch, his head cradled against Charles’s chest.

“Edwin?” he breathlessly asked.

Edwin shifted, his head tilting back just enough to look up at him. Charles had to loosen his death grip on him to allow even that. “Charles?”

Immediately, Charles hugged him closer. He smashed Edwin’s face into his chest and pressed his chin to the top of his head. “Don’t ever do that again, mate,” he said. “I mean it.”

For a moment, Edwin was frozen. Then, he thawed and relaxed himself into Charles’s hug. “I did not mean to worry you,” he said softly.

“Yeah, well, you did,” Charles said without any heat to it. Finally, he let his arms slide away from Edwin and allowed himself to get his first real look at his friend.

The first thing he noticed was that he looked tired. Dark bags lined his eyes and blood still smeared his collar, although whatever wound had been made was gone. He seemed paler than normal as well, but Edwin was always so pale it was hard to tell. 

“Alright?” he asked, still looking for any sign that he wasn’t.

Edwin nodded. “Yes,” he said. His voice sounded stronger than before, and God if it didn’t sound like Heaven to Charles. The idea that he might never have heard his friend speak again hadn’t truly hit him until this moment. “I believe I am unharmed.”

Charles’s eyes darkened. “You were stabbed. In the neck,” he said. Or close enough, anyways. “And then you turned into this glowing ball, and… well, I didn’t know what to do.”

Edwin flinched at the mention of his wound before soothing his expression into one of fondness. “Yes, I… seem to remember that,” he said. His hand came up to touch his throat, only to find no wound there. “It would seem I have healed.”

“Maybe that’s what that was?” he asked and made a gesture with his hand to show orb-sized Edwin. “Maybe that was like ‘ghost healing’?” 

Something between annoyance and acceptance flashed across Edwin’s face. “I believe you have it right,” Edwin said. “It would seem that would be the form ghosts take when they heal.”

Charles nodded. “Kinda brills, honestly. Like a turtle goin’ into their shell or something.”

Edwin squinted his eyes at the comparison. “I suppose,” he said. And then almost immediately collapsed when he tried to get up.

“Oi!” Charles said and wrapped his arms around him. “What’re you doing? You wanna be an orb again?” 

Edwin huffed as he settled back down. His face had washed out even more after his ill-advised attempt. “No, I do not,” he said. “But it hardly seems appropriate for me to just… lay all over you.”

Before he had died, Charles might have agreed. There was a certain amount of weirdness to it, he supposed, but that didn’t mean that he wanted Edwin to get up. In fact, he wanted Edwin to stay right where he was until he was strong enough to stand without passing out again.

Edwin rolled his eyes when he said this. “I did not pass out. Ghosts cannot do that,” he said. Yet he laid his head back down against Charles’s chest, his now ruffled hair tickling Charles’s chin. 

“Go back to sleep,” Charles said. Before Edwin could argue, he held a hand up and used it to gently bop him on the arm. “And don’t say ghosts can’t sleep. That’s basically what you were doing before.”

Edwin started to shake his head, but the motion quickly became him snuggling down against Charles. “I am merely resting my eyes.”

Charles grinned, a sudden wave of fondness he’d never felt for anyone else overtaking him. “Yeah, well rest your mouth too.”

Edwin tried to flip him off but failed. “Almost had it,” Charles teased.

“I’ll figure it out one day,” he said before fading back off to sleep. 

At least this time he stayed a ghost.

[gottalovetumbler]

𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯 𝔊𝔞𝔷𝔦𝔫𝔤

ˢⁱᵐᵒⁿ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Info:super fucking short, it’s 5:30 am and I got shit to do at 6:30 and I haven’t slept a wink, sorry if it’s shit, this bad boy *smacks hood* took me a whole 20 minute to write

———✨⭐️🌟🌙———

-Imagine going on a cute date with Simon. Somewhere easy and small like a diner or the movies

-After you both decide you don’t want it to end so you take a walk through a near by park

-it’s only about 10pm but the sky is clear the star are out. If there’s one thing you love, it’s stars

-Hell, your wallpaper is the most recent picture of Jupiter curtesy of NASA (look it up if you haven’t seen it) (absolute fucking perfection I tell ya)

-As you walk around you can’t help but just stare up at the sky. Neck bent so far back that you choke when you try to swallow your spit, having to look forward and cough before going back to looking up

-The conversation carries on but Simon struggles to hide his amusement as you walk around talking with your neck bent unnaturally.

-He catches you the few times you stumble, murmuring a quiet, Careful sweetheart, that you obviously ignore as you go back to staring at the sky

-Just as your heading to the parking lot you notice a familiar constilation. The Little Dipper

-It’s the only one I can ever see! you tell him, eyes full of excitement

-Where is it at exactly luv? All I see are little dots.

-So you point at it, staring at him expectantly. Waiting for the, Oh wow that’s very cool or the Oh, I’ve never seen it before but it looks amazing

-Instead you’re met with the tell tale eye crinkle that says, Are you sure baby?

-Don’t looked at me like that Simon! It’s right there! You shove your finger in the same direction just harder, hoping that it’ll magically make the shape appear for him

-Sorry luv, still don’t see it

-Looking around you spot a bench and with a tight grip on his wrist, drag him over to it.

-After depositing Simon in-front of it you step on so you’re actually on his level. His attempt to turn and question you is stopped as you grab his head with both hands and line his gaze with yours.

-Ok, look at exactly where I’m pointing. You say with your head on his left shoulder and arm on his right, pointing directly at the constellation.

-You see it? If it were a really cup it’d be dumping out water right now. The handle is pointed to the Northeast and the bottom of the cup part is pointed Southeast. See?

-Oh yep, there it is. And you jump down satisfied that you finally got him to see it

-What YOU don’t see though, is how Simon’s cheeks flushed at the sudden closeness of his pretty date. Who, for some reason, really wanted him to see some stars.

-The rest of the night is fairly uneventful as Simon walks you to your door. With a small wave and a quiet goodnight you move into the doorway. Just as you start shutting the door, a boot stops you.

-Ever been to the observatory?

———✨⭐️🌟🌙———

Hope y’all enjoyed!!

[doink-boink]

Finally drew my interpretation of Zach's parents!

Have had these fellows in the works for a good while!

Really had to lock in when doing the writing here lol - my handwriting is normally a weird hyper mix between cursive and print. But messier. Hopefully its legible! Enjoy some more yapping about these guys below the cut >:D

Must mention this is within my own AU! My interpretation of Zach specifically is a trans man. So uh! No way in hell Arthur is supportive in that regard. He is a miserable man whose only concern is furthering the family business and his public image.

Really looked to both Moral Orel and Bojack Horseman as inspiration for how these two would be. Did not intend for Arthur to share a name with the character he is inspired by lol - but uhm! He specifically is like Arthur Puppington when Clay was a kid: Distant, cold, though not physically abusive. Emotionally? Oh brother, you bet.

Regarding Kim and Arthur's relationship, that was really dead in the water. Kim is a self published author, or rather, an ASPIRING self published author. She mostly writes crime novellas/dramas, though needed some outsider input regarding the legal side of her stories. So, of course, she decides to reach out to the biggest law firm in the area.

It is initially a short and sweet interaction: "I ask you questions, you give me answers and insight when you can." However, she grows to enjoy Arthur's company, falling for him quickly. VERY rushed marriage ensues! Good god! (Of course not ASAP, within a few months time of dating/correspondence) Not too certain as of right now where Zach comes into the mix, but definitely in that honeymoon stage of a relationship where you don't quite know the person yet to really gauge if things will work out or not.

I mean, things absolutely do NOT work out in the end, but they don't know that yet. Arthur I feel is the type to want a family ASAP. Need that sweet sweet heir to the company. Will accept nothing less than a son. Sucks for him, doesn't end up coming to fruition until much later! AFAB child, disappointment on Arthur's behalf, compassion on Kim's. Like a night and day difference - even after Zach does eventually transition (his mother is deceased by this point) his father refuses to accept it until he dies. By until I mean: "You still are not my son." *flatline*

Kim was there for Zach until the day she died, which would probably be around late middle school to early highschool? In that age range. Old enough to have fond and in depth memories. Which! Arthur is the one who discovers what had happened. Busy writing a novel when wham, sudden cardiac arrest - alone, as she tended to keep to herself. Entire family dynamic changes from then onward, though the abusive aspects of it were ever present. Arthur is generally unsupportive of Zach's endeavors, frustrated that he is going into science and robotics as opposed to law. (Though I do think he'd have been trained or prepped for a career as a lawyer throughout his teens-adolescence)

Zach is the closest to his mother, with most of his fashion sense coming from her. Gotta love the turtleneck sweater! @novazentryx came up with the idea that he inherited his early black sweater from Tazzy Chris from her after it shrunk in the wash, loved that so y'know what! This totally applies here. Not only did he inherit the sweater, but also her V-necklace! (Which, if you have seen Zoey, is where she gets it from! As well as she looks strikingly similar to Kim. On that front I think that was a surprise from Aviva, knowing how close he was to her)

Spitballing with this one, but I think it would be interesting if Zach had assisted in pitching ideas for Kim's stories! What aspects of it I do not know, but maybe names for the characters. Mayhaps that is where he gets ZACH from? Don't ask what his deadname is, haven't thought of that and would prefer not to lol

I think that concludes my rambling! Do not really have anything else that is coming to mind at the moment, so feel free to ask questions or leave suggestions about these two! I will more than likely respond ^^ (To asks or replies) Thank you for humoring me and reading all of this if you're here lol, I really appreciate it!!

[royal-bubble-tea]

It's Hongjoong's Birthday!! And I wanted to write something short and sweet, like the Captain himself, for his birthday.

Ateez - Imagine - Hongjoong

Hongjoong x gn! Reader

Hongjoong who knows he is not the tallest person out there. Hell, everyone in his team is taller than him. But he does not care. His presence can fill an entire room. And it was his confidence that caught your attention. But what made you stick around was his loving and giving nature. Accepting you for who you are. Not caring if you are taller, smaller or the same height as him. He choose you for your character.

Hongjoong who is really into fashion, who wants to design his own clothes and brand. So please let him dress you up. Be his muse. If you are also interested in fashion he would be so delighted and you two would gush to each other for hours about the latest trends. But if you are not into fashion, that would be no problem at all. He would love to explain to you his likes and dislikes, his process and what he cares about in fashion.

He would be so surprised and happy if you visit him in his studio. Even if it happens on a regular basis he would develope literal heart eyes if you show up, even mkre if you bring food. Hongjoong would show you his music equipment, explaining it to you with a passion. He would have a blast sitting there and watching you or joining in on making beats or trying to create a melody. He would definetly keep all of you "experiments" no matter how bad they might be.

Hongjoong would slowly introduce you to the rest of Ateez, starting with Seonghwa as a more safe option. You two would get along but to Hongjoong's demise you met your partner in crime in Wooyoung. At first he would try to calm the two of you down, but after some time he just stopped and is now trying to stay far away from this combination. But not to far away. He need your attention.

On that note he would act hurt if his mom was showering you in love or if you would give a little to much attention to another member. He would come over and grab your hands, move you on his lap or make it obvious in some other way that you were his. He is not a fan of showing public affection, but when it comes to you that man is so possessive. Because in the end you are his and his only.

Well this was rather short, but I wanted to write something cute to celebrate Hongjoong's Birthday.

(Btw I think it is absolutely hilarious that Wooyoung spoiled our Captain's birthday MD😂🤭)

[lightningarmour]

Absolute comics first thoughts

For the first time since the end of DOOMSDAY CLOCK I've been persuaded into paying money for a DC comic, and two, no less.

I've been 100% checked out of the DC sphere for about 5 years, only occasionally seeing some news here or there about the latest crossover event or fave character or what have you, and I regard those with the passing interest one might have in seeing a hot air balloon. Nothing has drawn me back partly because I'm old now and don't have the time or inclination to try catching up on years of crossover event, status quo altering storylines and yadda yadda.

I had heard about the new ABSOLUTE line of titles, but from the initial teasers and previews, not the least of which was the character design for Absolute Batman with his giant stupid fat bat symbol, I just wrote it off as them doing yet more edgy elseworlds stories, and thought no more on it until maybe three weeks ago. I saw a little roundup of details about Absolute Superman from an interview with Jason Aaron and it caught my attention.

I've gone on at length in the past about how I think that any earnest attempt at writing Superman for modern audiences that keeps true to the "idea" of Superman without making a cynical edgelord version of the character would need to depict Superman as a politically engaged, class conscious individual at least, and a full on Leninist at best. Now obviously I do not expect DC comics to publish a comic about communist superman without it being a laughable piece of propaganda like RED SON, but nonetheless, hearing that Absolute Superman is about a superman who is fighting a mining corporation to protect a community of abused labourers, and re-imagining Krypton as a caste-based society that was destroyed by reckless exploitation of the environment, I was certainly interested.

I resolved to check it out at least. I'd seen some of the details about Absolute Batman, that he's not a billionaire and whatever and still wasn't too interested, but realized I'd heard basically nothing about Absolute Wonder Woman. "She didn't grow up on Themyscira" okay what does that mean?

At this point both Batman and Wonder Woman were out so I looked it up and found some pages from Absolute Wonder Woman #1 and was pretty much instantly hooked because the art was tremendous, and Wonder Woman is flying on a skeleton pegasus with a huge Guts sword and like, that just fucking rocks ass, come on. So I was now sold on two Absolute series, I decided eh, what the hell I'll check out Absolute Batman #1, maybe I could be convinced.

So now that I've read all three first issues of the new ABSOLUTE Universe, I have some thoughts.

ABSOLUTE BATMAN #1 is a confused mess. I think that Batman, being easily the most popular DC character, with the broadest demographic appeal, has too much baggage. You'd kind of think that with a character like this where everyone knows his whole basic backstory, you could gloss over the details a bit more, but this issue is so concerned with establishing and referencing as many iconic Batman characters as possible, it's so bloated.

in this one(1) issue they set up or directly show you: Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon, Barbara Gordon, Harvey Bullock, Killer Croc, Penguin, Riddler, Cat Woman, Two-Face, Black Mask, Ras Al Ghul, and of course we cannot go even one single issue without giving you The Joinker. It's too much. Ease off. We're not going to encounter probably two thirds of these people for ages. And, frankly establishing that half of Batman's presumptive rogue's gallery just so happened to be Bruce Wayne's childhood friends is dumb as shit. The dynamic between all of them is going to follow the exact same "gasp, could it be that my old friend is now a criminal?!" dynamic like 5 times in a row.

This is easily the most edgy of the current Absolute series and is basically exactly what I assumed the whole imprint was going to be, but it really feels in places like Scott Snyder wanted this to be a Batman that was darker and more violent but then DC editorial was like "no, Batman can't kill people" so he adjusted the script as little as possible to reassure the audience that he's rolling non-lethal damage as he stabs the shit out of people with his ear-knives and chops their hands off.

Despite all the parts I don't like about how they portray Batman, the thing that pisses me off is I really like the way they are doing Bruce Wayne.

Typically Bruce Wayne, the billionaire is kind of a hard character for me to like because of how much he serves this kind of great man power fantasy(yes, I know, superhero comics are inherently fascist) He has a vendetta against the concept of crime because his parents were killed by a criminal, so he takes it upon himself to "protect" Gotham, but in many depictions of Batman it's kind of like, what exactly is his connection to the city other than he lives there and presumably is the HQ of Wayne Enterprises. he views it the way a rich person would, dirty and too full of undesirable people who must be punished so that he, a wealthy socialite can enjoy the place without having to see the underclasses.

Making Bruce a working class urbanist is such a more interesting way of exploring the character. He loves the city because he grew up in it's streets, played in it's parks, attended it's schools, rode it's busses. Adding the layer on that that he became a civil engineer and worked with the municipal government does for the first time I've ever seen something interesting with Gotham by kind of interrogating the notion of what makes a city what it is. Is it the infrastructure, the people, the civil servants? It's the most interesting Bruce Wayne has ever been.

But then as Batman he's just fucking mutilating people and blowing them up with bombs and whatever. Yawn. I think that the Batman aspect also annoys me because it so blatantly disregards the central premise of the Absolute line. What if Batman wasn't a billionaire? Well then he wouldn't have access to tons of money and resources to do his Batman shit! So they like, half-ass that by giving him the kind of stripped-down arsenal. No gadgets and gizmos, just knives and a hunk of bat shaped metal used as a battle axe. But then oh yeah he also has some kind of miracle fabric that he can use as like tendrils or whatever and it's completely bullet-proof and so on and so forth. Like, Batman really really does not feel in any meaningful way like he is working at a disadvantage in this version of the story, and that just makes the whole thing so damn boring.

ABSOLUTE WONDER WOMAN #1 fucking kicks ass. This was by kind of a wide margin the best issue of the three series debut issues. I think that unlike Batman and Superman who both have quite a lot of baggage tied into their backstories and supporting cast and so forth, Wonder Woman has never quite achieved the level of iconography as they have so there's almost more freedom to do something new without hitting a bunch of prescribed plot points. In fact she might be the one of the trinity who has had the most attempts to re-imagine her and spruce her up to get people interested. I recall back in 2010 they did a big shake up that was not too dissimilar to this new take on the character. What if she never grew up on Themyscira? What if she didn't have the favour of the gods, etc. And I really liked that one, so I guess it's no surprise I'd be fond of this new version as well.

I think the number one thing that hooked me on this issue is the artwork, tbh. It's my favourite style so far of the Absolute comics, and everything just looks so cool and big and epic and awesome. That's it. It's just cool as hell.

The next most important thing is it has much better pacing than the other issues. You get a very simple, very effective set-up. The Amazons have been punished by the gods so this baby is being raised in hell by a witch. That's it. Good, effective time lapse of her growing up interspersed within the action scenes of her fighting monsters. It's simple and to the point but still leaves me invested int he mystery and wanting to know more. And again, it did not feel the need to shoe-horn a bunch of characters in so you can do the soyjack point at the issue. They could have easily shoved Steve Trevor in there as one of the soldiers responding to the freaky monster pyramid but that would have just been lame. It's confident enough in itself to not have to try and get you with low hanging fruit.

I don't really have much else to say, it's just cool and good and I'm unequivocally excited for more.

ABSOLUTE SUPERMAN #1 is a solid start. Now I'll admit I'm way more of a Superman-head than I am for Batman or Wonder Woman. This was the series that made me interested in the Absolute experiment in the first place, so I'm probably way more willing to be lenient towards a Superman title than say Batman.

That being said, this one also has like Batman, aspects I really like, and others I'm a bit iffy on, though not in as wide a gulf as Absolute Batman. As I said before, I've spent probably too much time trying to think of how to reinvent Superman in a modern context and, specifically, from a politically left-wing perspective, and I'll say that so far I think they're doing a decent job.

It's obviously nothing new to look at Superman as an immigrant story. Going all the way back to Siegel & Shuster, who were children of Jewish immigrants, the whole idea was what if this guy came from somewhere else. I think that the way that Jason Aaron has interpreted that concept for a modern context is actually quite brilliant. It's almost less of what if Superman was an immigrant than what if Superman was a refugee? Rather than unable to return to his homeland, but finding a new home with loving foster parents we are given the suggestion that he's never had a stable home since arriving on Earth. Moving from one place to another, nowhere to go home to, hiding among the economically exploited peoples of the global south.

It's such a riveting set up, I'm really excited to see how this version of the Character is informed by his history.

I also like the use of Krypton as kind of a heavy-handed double metaphor for stratified class society and the dangers of climate change. Like, it is presumably already dead and gone and unable to like, textually affect the story so who cares if it's allegorical nature is too on the nose. I also really like the notion of Kal El having like, living memory of Krypton, rather than only knowing about it from recordings on an alien flash drive or whatever.

I think the use of this "Lazarus" corporation as a kind of stand-in blanket evil corporation that does every kind of exploitative, extractive, broadly seen as morally wrong kinds of industries a bit hokey but hey it's a comic. I love the use of the Peacemakers as the like, corporate PMC security force though, that's fun. I am pretty curious if Lazarus is going to be a kind of fake-out Lexcorp. Like Luthor is the head of it but they called it by a different name so as not to ruin the surprise of his introduction. That or maybe it's related to Ras Al Ghul? Who knows, but I'm interested in what their whole deal is. They not only operate diamond mines and factory farms but also like, hunt down alien technology to reverse engineer?? And employ a Brainiac. curious as to what the deal is with the screaming jars. Does being shrunk down just like, really hurt? Seems like almost going overboard with the concept. Like not only does he shrink down cities and put them in jars but he also tortures the shrunken people? Like why, what's he getting out of it?

Some of the iffy parts for me include the suit AI thing he's got because I'm frankly sick of that trope by now. Ever since Iron man it's like every fucking character in comics has to have some kind of tech suit with a quirky robot voice. I'm willing to give it a chance on the grounds that it's like alien technology so sure whatever. I kind of like that he has to fucking charge the suit with a solar panel. I am curious about what exactly the breakdown is with the suit. He uses his x-ray and laser eyes so presumably it's still Kal himself who has super powers and they're not like, imbued by the suit. The suit seems like it is regulating his powers in some way. Like without it he couldn't control them and would cause havoc, but the fact that he has to like charge the suit's battery is kind of funny. Like, is the suit solar powered and his powers are just inherent no matter what, or does he still derive his power from sunlight as well? Fuzzy on the rules.

I also don't like the Lois reveal. It's just dull. Who care. The little teaser of Kent Farm is interesting to me. Feels like several different ways they could pivot:

Kal El's rocket lands and blows a hole in their barn, they find him and are frightened of him so they call the authorities/Lazarus and Kal flees.

Similar to above but they care for him like usual before Lazarus shows up looking for the alien craft and kill the Kents to remove any witnesses

Altogether it does enough things I'm interested in to keep me going with it despite the few quibbles I have. So far it's 2/3 on the Absolute universe and with the "phase 2" or whatever announced I'm 100% guaranteed also picking up Absolute Flash because it's my boy Wally and Jeff Lemire writing, like come the fuck on, how could I resist that.

[west-tokyo-incidents]

Okay so... I'm thinking my brain slammed together the actual like cyberpunk novel im writing together with my bingewatching of metroidvania games and my special interest so I HOPE YALL ARE READY TO HEAR ABOUT THE BOOK IM WRITING. It's gonna be hella relevant and I'm thinking I'm gonna make these brain worms my, like, cameo of the WTI in my book. Cause I've been wanting to do that but had no idea how to.

The world of Robophobia

The story takes place in an unspecified time in the future. Humans have achieved space travel and are colonizing planets.

The planet, called Verida-7143, is under what amounts to am extreme quarantine(yeah, yeah, topical whatever this story's been in production since 2014 don't start), because of what's basically a zombie virus sweeping through the population and turning the colony of multiple millions of people into a mere 300,000 people. And it's dropping, due to the disease tanking birthrate and fertility of those who caught it, but survived. Which is most of those who are currently alive.

A civil war also broke out between people who sought a cure through genetic modification and those who sought to abandon humanity entirely to become robotic. Unfortunately, the human side of people, the side too scared of change, won.

The outer parts of the city are subject to toxic, tar-like rain and are inhabited by the remaining cyborgs, androids, and their supporters. The inner city is all people with genetic modifications and robots without sentience, much less sapience.

Unbeknownst to the vast majority of the population, some who were infected became cocoons for the next stage of the virus, where they would form a multicellular organism, known only as Stage 6 Individuals, or more colloquially, Sixes. Due to the sudden drop in population and the amount of empty buildings and homes, these omnivorous creatures are able to live their mostly solitary lives unbothered by humans.

Sixes are intellectually somewhere between human and crow, smart enough to mimic human voices and know what they're saying, but not enough to have morals.

Usually.

So you can kind of see where I'm going with this.

Fusataro is a famous singer who has voiced support for the robot sympathizers and has managed to get away with it for a while, but says something past the line and the Powers That Be intend to silence her, but life is too precious due to the dropping population, so they fake her death and hide her away in a prison out in the slums.

A Stage 6 Individual hears or witnesses her message after she sends out a signal when she manages to steal and scavenge the parts to do so. She's caught before the Six can find her, and tortured. The next thing she knows, this gorgeous creature has torn through her captors and is giving her a way out. Of course she has no idea what it is, but it's smart and takes her somewhere safe.

I already have a Rage cameo as part of the robot faction, a robot named JPEG who was a v-idol AI before the civil war and is now living in the main church of the robotic religion that's developed.

Mizho could be an assassin who works alongside the main character, both of them making good money killing in a world where life is endlessly precious.

[fatedroses]

Adventurer Zenos and G'raha cause I had to draw my silly guys. I just enjoy the idea of Zenos hanging out with fellow bookworms and being begrudgingly (though occasionally willingly) helpful.

[dandelion-roots]

[ID: a digital drawing of Riz Gukgak from D20 fantasy high from the waist up. He looks like he's holding onto sanity by a thread and is covered in blood as he attempts to sew a finger back onto Biz's hand and says, ha ha, oopsie! End ID]

Damn man being 14 sure is tough... It's all just pimples this, brutally shooting off a classmate's fingers before figuring out he wasn't the mastermind and then immediately regretting it that...

[turtlespancake]

me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU

[taegularities]

hi hi. uhm small thing regarding cmi. if you're a reader, do lmk what you think please 🤍

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '24 ⸺ 「 9 / 31 * BREAKTHROUGH 」

Walking through it hadn’t felt entirely real the first time Emmett had taken her to see the old house. Even though Clara could envision everything she had ever wanted, reach out and touch the near-tangible visions, as if human touch was all it would take to bring them to life as they walked from one dusty room to another, the pragmatist in her reminded her that this was only one set of possibilities. 

A potential future. One within reach, though nebulous, shifting and shimmering like an apparition.

But the more homes they viewed, the more she grew attached to this potential future, seeing nothing so bright and vibrant in any of the other houses. Oh, they could be happy in any of them, certainly, they’d done well with that already given their less than ideal living conditions for a growing family of four on the outskirts of Hill Valley—none of which were Emmett’s fault—but she had wanted more for her family and if they were going through all the trouble to uproot their lives to settle down in Emmett’s time, she refused to compromise.

Fortunately, having lived in the same cramped conditions for the last decade, Emmett was more than inclined to agree with her visions for their to-be home.

He’d done the best he could, improving their situation little-by-little with his knowledge of the future, but there was only so much that could be done when the builders and designers of her home clearly put little to no thought into the occupant and their convenience. 

Were she a woman of weaker constitution, it would have bothered her even more severely, however there was only so much that could be ignored as Jules and Verne continued growing at an alarming rate.

Both boys would surely take after their father.

This time, she would see to it that all the concerns that arose from their situation in the Nineteenth Century were properly addressed this time around. 

And then they found this house. Or, from what Emmett said, Marty had found this house and passed the information along. She would have to thank him properly for his invaluable help later.

For this house–!

Standing on the walkway, gazing up at their house—their house, Clara repeats in her mind, almost giddy with excitement—it feels surreal. The major step to making the move had just been completed and finalised and Emmett standing there, holding the keys and the paperwork to their new home, crowned in gold by the early afternoon sun, looks like a dream. 

Even with the exterior battered and beaten by the elements, it was clear that once, the two-story home had been a proud, beautiful building. Making it perfect would be a project, but the idea of complicated renovations did not sour her to the home in the slightest. The fact that they had all this space and then some–perhaps more than they needed for their modest family–well, she was still wrapping her head around it and the fact that they had all these futuristic amenities now to make their lives easier lent only to more and more possibilities. 

It was far away enough from the major populated areas to provide them peace and privacy, yet not so far that a trip into town would require proper planning and preparation and eat up a majority of the day. With the transportation available in this century–Clara was still growing accustomed to the sheer number of automobiles on the road in some of those areas and to her credit, she hadn't let out the same unladylike shriek she did the first time one of those things had roared at her–Emmett assured her that travel into town would take far less than the hour plus it took to return home on horseback. 

“We’ll never have to worry about space again,” Emmett says, smiling, and Clara finds herself drawn further into his orbit, hanging on her husband’s every word. “There’s plenty of space for you and me, for the boys—and when they eventually become teenagers and can’t stand the sight of one another for long, there’s more than enough room to put between them—and there will be space for Marty to stay.” 

He wraps his arm around Clara's waist. 

“The realtors assured me that everything is structurally sound, but I trust them about as far as I can throw them, so I’d like to double-check before we start settling in.”

Clara nods, finding sense in that. “So you'll be making a few trips here yourself in the meantime.”

“You and the boys are welcome to come, of course, but I figure it will get done quickly if the boys aren't distracted by all the new things happening around them. It would be good to expose them to life in this century slowly rather than shocking their systems by thrusting them into it, but that may be better a little further into the renovations. Let them explore the property on their own, the house once I’m absolutely certain they won’t stumble across any weak points and fall through, and get used to seeing things that are normal for this time, but the equivalent of magic a hundred years ago."

“You're right. And with Verne's penchant for trouble lately, I'd rather not run the risks. I know you said this was a quiet location without too much traffic, but God forbid he forgets about those–those—”

“Cars?” 

“Yes. Cars, thank you.”

“They'll just have to be patient. We’ll focus on their rooms first, set up ours and the majority of the home so it’s at least habitable, then focus our attention on the cosmetic things. I may enlist Marty's help with some of the cleaning if he's willing and able.” Emmett hums.

“We’ll need a place to store the Time Machine,” Clara says, leaning against Emmett’s arm. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving it out in the open, even with your security measures in place.”

“No, the Train draws far too much attention and the last thing I need is somebody spotting it and poking around where they don’t belong. Remember, I'm not exactly Hill Valley's favourite citizen. I’ve been thinking about that since we settled on this house and I have a few ideas in mind.” 

Suddenly, Emmett snaps his fingers. “I’ll also need to construct a private study, one the boys and any of the friends they may invite over won’t be able to sneak into where we can keep some of the more sensitive”–dangerous, Clara’s mind supplies–“documents and experiments of mine. As for the lab…my childhood home saw my garage turned into a lab independent of the house and I think, for safety reasons, I’ll do the same here. The old barn, once fixed up, would make an excellent workspace.”

Clara’s eyebrows shoot up and she throws her husband a half-concerned, half-amused look.

“Not that I plan to be working on anything inherently dangerous or life-threatening,” he adds quickly underneath the weight of his wife’s stare. “But accidents do happen even when you’re being careful and I’ve been on the receiving end of more than a few of those over the years. I’d rather not take any unnecessary risks, especially not with you and the boys living there.”

“Of course not.”

[pyrriax]

hi tumblr im pyrr pyrriax and im in my trimonthly artist arc, lord help me and all the projects that are currently sitting in my drafts while i am lured in by the siren song of drawing

[apocalypticdemon]

having one of those evenings where im looking for fic and nothing scratches the itch. how dare it be that nobody has written the specific relationships with the specific tropes i want in the way i want it written ://

[hyah-through-hyrule]

My crops would be so watered if I could just love a main/popular character for once

[telekinetic-issue]

thinking about a modern zelink AU I started writing years ago after botw came out and then deleted because it needed a lot of rework done last time I read it and cringed and I didn’t wanna do it but now I’m feeling that vibe again but this time Zelda has two hands and it’s midzelink and I kinda want to rewrite it but ughhh getting it all from scratch again, maybe changing the pov from Link to Zelda in some chapters, seeing where a new storyline goes…so much work for what return