#it's late and i'm tried

[baker-chan-senpai]

dumb doodles

merry christmas, people

[hoodielord]

Waylon didn’t like others in the sewers. He tolerated Grundy but other people he couldn’t stand. He’d often catch the occasional drug smuggler working their way through. They were either really bold or really stupid. The latter was usually the truth. But the worst things he finds are the bodies. The Mafia or gangs sometimes dump them down here not that he cares they eventually float out into the harbour. That is what he thought the kid was. 

He collapsed right outside a manhole cover entrance. The kid had to be around 14. His clothes were in tatters. The hoodie he was wearing had burn marks all over it, the kid probably had the burns to match. The kid had more bandages than a B-rate horror movie Mummy and was just as shittly wrapped.

“Hey, you alive?” Waylon asks pushing the kid with his foot.

The kid let out a hiss of pain as Waylon’s foot brushed up against him. The kid’s eyes snapped open a bright green. The kid immediately went into a fighting stance it reminded him a bit of the bat’s robins. That image fell apart as the kid lost his footing, probably from blood loss, and smacked his face on the concert floor.

Waylon sighs. “Okay…. Great.” He checks the kid over again. Good, he was just knocked out. Waylon sighs again as he picks the kid up. Probably isn’t the best to take him to a hospital by himself but maybe Doc Thompkins is still in.

_____

Danny had been running for a while. He just escaped and was running on empty. Bleeding heavily as he ran around this city. He wasn’t sure what city this is, but it definitely wasn’t Amity Park. Everything was blurry, his mind and the world around him. He’s sure he fell into something but he wasn’t sure. The pain that he felt he was sure of that though. Everything hurt. He fell again. Somebody picked him up he wanted to get away but it was nice and cool here. Like a big ice pack picked him up. 

His consciousness was fading in and out. It snapped back to him when he saw a needle.

No. NO. he needs to get away. Not again. No more needles no more. The needles went away and a mask fell over his face.

----

The kid was a pain to wrangle, even when he was barely conscious. The doc and him had to hold the kid down just to sudate him. Doc had to use gas cause as soon as the kid saw a sharp object he nearly broke Croc’s arm. If the kid had any more energy he definitely would have. Doc cut off the bandages as nurses ran around grabbing supplies. One of the braver nurses asked him to wait outside so they could help the kid. So here he was waiting in the waiting room with a few other patients. About an hour later the Doc came back and told him about the kid.

“Where’d you find him?”

“Where else? I thought he was another body dump.”

“He nearly was. There is evidence that either he was an experiment in a lab or somebody was trying to sell his organs. But he’s mostly intact so I’m leaning toward the experiment. You want me to tell Batman?”

“I don’t think the kid’s in any condition to be integrated by the bat.”

“I’ll give it a few days but I think this is something they need to look into…. I’m surprised you brought the kid here and stayed to hear about it.”

Part of Waylon wanted to sneer at the comment but he didn’t know himself.

The doc hummed. “The Kid has some pretty bad burns on his abdomen, several medical incisions all over his body, and a pretty bad crack in his skull like someone hit him with a baseball bat. I’m not one for miracles but the fact that he is even alive is nothing short of one.” 

Their conversation ended when the bell on the door chimed and three vigilantes walked in. Everyone stopped for a moment. Waylon put his hands in front of himself showing that he wasn't he for a fight. Doc’s clinic was one of the only neutral places in Gotham. It wasn’t exactly a haven but almost everyone knew no one fights anyone here.

“Hey, Croc. Hey, Doc.” Nightwing says with a smile holding his arm to stop the bleeding.

“I would punch you if you weren’t injured,” Hood said.

Robin nods in agreement. “This is just another example of your idiocracy,”

“Like tonight, when you tried to do an extra flip when you were being shot at.” Hood added.

Nightwing feigns shock.  

“No fighting boys, come on I’ll get you patched up.” Doc leads Nightwing away as Hood and Robin stay behind.

Robin stares at Waylon, his hand on his katana.

“Hey, brat you heard the Doc no fighting you know the rules,” Hood said to Robin.

Robin clicked his tongue in response. 

The time drags on for a while as they wait.

“Why are you here croc?” 

Waylon debated on what to tell them. He should tell them about the kid.

“Found a body dumped in the sewers. Except this one was still alive.”

The slits on both their masks crease.

“You usually aren’t that nice.”

“The bodies dumped aren’t usually kids. The kid is in the doc’s care now. Ask her your questions.”

Even behind the masks, Waylon could tell they were angry. Robin gripped his sword’s hilt a little tighter. Hood went to go find the Doc.

“Where did you find him?”

“In the sewers below the manhole cover in a back alley off 5th street just outside Crime Alley.”  

Robin turned to go find Hood. “Thank you for the information,” he said before running off.

At least Batman was attempting to teach this Robin manners. Waylon was about to walk out the door when there were a few yells from behind him and someone ran right into his back almost making him fall forward. Waylon tried to turn to see who was behind him but then they started to climb his back and onto his shoulder and he was met with the same glowing green eyes he met in the sewers.

“Kid you are going to give people, myself included, a heart attack.” trying to move the kid off his shoulder.

“You failed to tell us he was a meta,” Robin said from behind him.

“Thought the doc or the kid would.”

The kid’s face scrunchs in on itself. He was confused about something. He tried to say something but his voice wouldn’t work. He tried again and again but it wouldn’t work. He was getting more and more frustrated until the Doc handed him a piece of paper and a pen.

The kid sat on the floor surrounded by Croc the vigilantes and the nurses as he wrote out what he wanted to say. When he was finished he climbed back on Waylon’s shoulder and handed him the paper. The handwriting is a little shaky but readable for the most part.

Waylon started to read until the vigilantes interrupted.

“Hey, share with the class.” Hood interrupted.

“Yeah, I wanna hear what your koala wrote,” Nightwing said.

The kid stuck his tongue out at Nightwing’s remark.

“fine, It says: Hi, I’m Danny. To the alligator… crocodile -whichever- man, thanks for the help. I was really out of it when you found me so I don’t know much about what happened. But I really don’t like hospitals cause the people chasing me could find me. So thanks I think. I have a few questions too so how about 20 questions?”

“Kid if I was your English teacher I would fail you. This was so hard to read.” Croc said and Hood agreed after looking over the paper.

The kid took the paper back and wrote a little more.

“Been their done that.” 

Hood was just more frustrated. Danny was laughing so everyone could tell he was messing with them a little. Danny was running out of paper so the doctor got him a dry-erase board and a marker.

“This better?”

Much better, Thank you, Danny wrote smiling back at Doc with sharp pointed teeth.

“So Danny you get to ask a question first.”

Your names?

“Doctor Thompkins.” doc introduced herself first but everyone stopped when Danny flinched.

“Clinic’s a kind of safe space, no fighting. And whoever hurt you is not allowed here.” croc says surprising the rest of the room.

Danny nods after a moment.

“Red Hood and this is Robin and Nightwing,” he says gesturing to each vigilante.

“Waylon.”

Danny nods along waving at them.

“So where are you from?”

Danny began drawing a picture. The kid was focusing hard on the drawing his tongue stuck out. NightWing nudged Robin says “Hey you do that.” Robin just responded by clicking his tongue.

Danny finished holding up a picture of Illinois and a small dot labelled Amity Park.

“You’re a long way from home kid. How the hell do you get all the way to New Jersey?” Hood asks.

Danny tilted his head eyes widening a bit.

Well, that answered my other question. I didn’t know where I was cause they moved me so much before I escaped.

“...Okay, who is ‘they’? They're the ones that hurt you?” Nightwing asks.

The room gets quiet after the question. Tears roll down Danny’s face then break out into full sobs as he curls in on himself. Waylon placed his hand on the kid’s head.

“Hey, I said before no one here is going to hurt you or let you get hurt, okay?”

Danny nods after a few minutes he picks up the board again and writes.

Everyone’s blood boils at the answer they got to Nightwing’s question.

They are my parents and an agency called G.I.W. I don’t know what it stands for. 

Danny set the board down and curled back into a ball. He didn’t pick up the board again. Doc draped a blanket over Danny as he passed out leaning back against Waylon.

have i mentioned how much i love villains being not villainous because of small (or not so small) child?

because

anyway

imagine you are killer croc and you are just kind of chilling in the sewers doing killer croc things

when suddenly there is an Intruder! In! Your! Territory!!!

so obviously you take your scary face and take on a more menacing stance and go to fight off whoever is down here because

this is your place! and you do not share!!

and then you get there its a child, and like, you have fought robin before but his dad was there and he was in good health and you might have gone easy on him but you will never admit to it so it might as well have never happened

but that is a young teenager(!), looks like he might be 13(!!) but with how skinny he is he might be older and just malnourished(!!), he is actively bleeding(!) and might get an infection(!!!) from the wound on his chest that on closer inspection looks like a Vivisection(!!!!!!!) wound on his chest and he is looking fearfully at the manhole cover that he just came in from

so obviously you scoop him up and bring him deep deep down

crocodiles are excellent parents and highly protective of their young

he even runs through the water instead of swimming because of all the grossness lf the sewer

this kid is his now and he will protect him with the ferociousness of a wild boar

[hyolks]

al's the kinda guy to wear sweater vests and oxfords <3

[ministarfruit]

yuri month day 13: I want you to treat me ♡

(femslashfeb prompt list)

[warmfuzzyanimal]

[sapphyrwind]

SNSmonth2024 day1: sun and moon

[ckret2]

So y'all know the Gravity Falls production bible that leaked three weeks ago. Someone in one of my discord servers pointed this out:

And, naturally, that spawned an entire AU.

AU Concept: Ford was kicked out instead of Stan and takes a job as a trucker to makes ends meet since he couldn't go to college, while still studying the weird and anomalous however he can.

Ford driving around from quirky small town to quirky small town, drifting through the liminal spaces of truck stops, meeting odd people in isolated diners, seeing strange things out on the road—a deer with too many eyes bounding across a two-lane highway, a flirty woman at a rest stop who doesn't blink or breathe, mysterious lights in the sky at night, inhuman growls on the CB or 50-year-old broadcasts on the radio—and taking notes when he stops for gas or food.

Aside from having gotten kicked out before graduating high school, Ford's the same person he is in canon.

He's still an ambitious guy, and here "ambitious" means working hard and saving as much money as he can—so, a long haul owner-operator who spends weeks at a time on the road. (He goes through a LOT of educational audiobooks.) Plus, this is the easiest way for him to get to travel the country; and since it looks like his "travel the world" dreams with Stan are dead, he'll take what he can get.

Since he's never in the same spot long and carries his life in a truck, almost all of Ford's research is in his journal. His bag of investigation supplies has an instant camera, a portable tape recorder, a thermometer, a flashlight, rubber gloves, and a few zip lock bags—and that's about it. It has to share space with all his clothes, toiletries, and nonperishable food when he's on the road. He doesn't have much opportunity to closely examine anything odd he finds, unless he's lucky enough to run into something when he can stop for the night. He has to cram his paranormal research around the side of his full-time job.

He doesn't live in Gravity Falls, but he knows it exists. Every time he moves—to Chicago, to Nebraska, to California—he seems to inch closer. He currently lives in Portland and usually hauls loads between the Pacific Northwest and Chicago or New York. He stops at the truck stop outside Gravity Falls when he can and has gone fishing in town a few times. He doesn't have the benefit of extensive research to know that this is the weirdest town in the world; but it seems pretty weird to him, there are local rumors about the town, and he's had some weird experiences in the area.

Plus, he can't explain it, but it's like the town's calling to him. He wants to move there, but it'd put him over an hour outside of Portland where the nearest jobs are. Maybe if somebody chucked him like $100k to build a cabin in the woods; but what are the odds of that?

He does know Fiddleford. Truck broke down somewhere and Fiddleford kindly pulled over to fix it on the fly. They looked at each other, had mutual knee-jerk "dumb trucker/hillbilly" reactions, and within ten minutes both went "oh wait you're the most brilliant genius i've ever met." Fiddleford's living the same life he was in canon before Ford called him to Gravity Falls—with his family in California, trying to start a computer company out of his garage—but they make friends and keep in contact.

One time Ford stops at a kitschy roadside knickknack store that also sells new agey magic things—crystals, tarot cards, incense, etc. He bought a "lucky" rearview mirror ornament that looks like an Eye of Providence in a top hat and hung it from his cab fan, and ever since then he's had weird dreams whenever he sleeps in his truck.

Things I don't know yet: what Stan's up to; or why Ford's the one who got kicked out. I tend to believe that in canon Stan wasn't just kicked out because he ruined Ford's college prospects, but rather because the family thought he deliberately sabotaged Ford; so in this AU, Ford would've been kicked out over a proportionate crime.

[teaboot]

you're so like. inspiring. or i wish i could be inspired. you reblog that post with the blue critter and you're like "im glad i was born on this planet". how do i manage to get that mindset. how do i manage to not want the pain to stop at any cost and enjoy what's still possible to enjoy

It's my first time here and I'm never coming back

[themisterhip]

🏖️VACATIONS!🏖️ "Expectation" VS "Reality" -

He's just a nerd. Wants to be cool but can't hang around the ladies TwT

[accirax]

Happy 5th Anniversary DRDT!!!!!!! and happy birthday Mai too :D

[isaacz]

Grapeduo lazy doodles dumps, i havent had much motivation to do anything proper lately.... also the last drawing is based off of this song i was obsessed with it for a while and had to make it about grapeduo LAWL The part where i drew purple in, is in the chorus "eu ja deitei no seu sorriso, só você não sabe" which the literal translation for it would be "i already lied down on your smile, you're the only one who doesn't know that" but what it basically means "i've already fallen for your smile, but you don't know that"

[nyarlathotepoid]

"I can be a creator, the creator. It has happened before, and it will happen again, many times."

— Notes on poem 16, This House of Dreams

[bulionis]

*Yurifies your Stobotnik*

[atalienart]

Hey, do you have any useful tips on chemistry? Like, while reading (or writing) a book, what makes two characters work for you?

[dragondawdles]

did an art sprint challenge thing tonight have a sub-2 hour deku link

[nimbusclan]

Moon 2

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“Moonpaw, wake up. We have to keep moving. Moonpaw.” 

Moonpaw mrrps in sleepy protest as she's jostled awake by her brother's paw digging insistently into her shoulder. She cracks one bleary eye open, momentarily disoriented by her surroundings. 

Right. They’re not at home. They don't have a home.

She stands, stiff from sleeping on bark, her muscles protesting as she arches her back and stretches her legs. The sun that slots into their log from an opening at the top paints the inside in streaks of rich reds and browns, so different from the cool, smooth stone she’s used to waking up to. She misses her moss nest fiercely in that moment, the weight of her grief threatening to overwhelm her, but she forces the feeling away with a shake of her head. There is no comfortable, warm nest for her to return to. Not now, not ever, and she needs to move on.

“Coming,” she mumbles sleepily, rubbing a paw against her eyes as Fogpaw turns and ducks out of the log. “How'd you sleep?” She stumbles out into the sunlight and shivers in the weak, earling morning newleaf air.

“I've certainly slept better,” Fogpaw mews, licking a paw and drawing it over one of his ears. “Best not to dwell on it. Breakfast first.”

Moonpaw nods, padding after Fogpaw as he weaves through the sparse mountain pines. She opens her mouth, scenting for prey, and sets her ears on a swivel to better hone in on the skittering of small paws through the bed of fallen pine needles that soften the cats' footfalls.

The breeze drifts the scent of mouse towards Moonpaw and her tail flicks up in excitement. She shoots a look Fogpaw's way and he nods and veers off in another direction, allowing her this hunt to chase his own prey.

Creeping forward, the words of her former mentor rings in her ears. Keep your paws light. Even so much as a scattered pebble will alert your catch to your presence. She never was able to complete her training and earn her warrior name, she thinks with a pang, but files that sadness away for later. She has enough information to know how to hunt, and she and Fogpaw will have plenty of time to practice now.

The mouse she's stalking shows itself, leaping onto the root of a tree, little whiskers twitching. Moonpaw waggles her haunches, preparing to launch herself at it, but as she leaps she slips on the loose pine needles underfoot and falls short of her catch. The mouse darts away and she lunges forward, hoping to snag it with a claw as it escapes, but it's too far from her outstretched paws and disappears into a hole in the ground.

“Star-damned trees,” Moonpaw growls to herself and sits back with a huff, her tail tip twitching. “Hunting on the mountain was so much easier.”

Prey continues to evade her for the rest of the afternoon. Squirrels run up trees, voles dive for cover under the leaf litter, and one particularly annoying chase after a songbird ends with Moonpaw landing in a puddle of mud.

She screeches with disgust, the bird long gone, and drags herself out of the mud to shake her fur. Her nose wrinkles in disgust at the state of her pelt. This is going to take ages to clean out of her white fur. Hopefully, Fogpaw is faring better with his hunt.

She follows her brother's scent trail to find him laden with mice, pawfuls of them at his feet. As he glances up and makes eye contact with her, the corner of his muzzle ticks up in amusement. “Rough hunt?”

“Do. Not,” Moonpaw huffs, eyeing his sleek, clean coat enviously. She drops herself next to him in a patch of sunlight and begins to groom her coat. Between mouthfuls of fur, she says, “we need to find someplace else on the territory to stay. This is no place for a mountain cat to settle.” She darts a pointed look at his small mountain of prey. “Except for you, maybe.”

Fogpaw mrrps a laugh and pushes a mouse towards her. “You can have some. I caught plenty.” He settles onto his paws and helps Moonpaw clear the mud from her fur. “I agree, though. I think we should look around the rockier places of our territory until we find a place that could work as a new camp.”

“A whole camp?” Moonpaw says doubtfully, tongue paused in her grooming. “I could settle for a couple of safe hollows in a rock. What do we need a whole camp for?”

“Rebuilding NimbusClan, of course.”

“Oh, Fogpaw–”

“No, Moon, seriously. I don't want to spend the rest of our days as rogues. I want–” he falters, eyeing her hesitantly before continuing. “I've always wanted a family, one like ours. Mom and Dad and us, it just… made me so happy, you know? I want that for myself one day.” He casts his eyes away from her, his shoulders hiking up around his ears, and Moonpaw knows he’s fighting back tears.

Moonpaw smiles gently at Fogpaw, her own eyes misting a little. “It made me happy too, Fogpaw. Makes me happy. They're watching over us in StarClan, I'm sure of it.” She curls her tail reassuringly over his back. 

“I'm sure they are,” He murmurs, resting his head against hers. “I miss them.”

“I miss them, too.”

They sit that way for a while, purring softly with each other as the newleaf breeze plays over their fur. Eventually, they tuck into the mice Fogpaw caught, and then curl together to take a nap in the sunshine.

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

---

(Okay so yes I know moons are months and so far the timeline of the fic portions doesn’t exactly line up with that, but bear with me for the sake of storytelling purposes)