#that's what i'm up to right now

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!

[egophiliac]

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)

[illiana-mystery]

WIP Whenever

Thanks for tagging me @eclecticwildflowers!

I have two WIPs going on right now: Chapter 12 of Sugar Baby and Chapter 5 of The Art of Seduction.

Also I am planning on updating He Won't Hurt You and Space Oddity real soon. 😉

---

Sugar Baby

"What you cooking?" Alicia asked before Malcolm turned around to face her. Like at breakfast, he was playing SWV on his phone and was humming along before Alicia showed up.

"Oh, well hello," he greeted in a teasing tone. "Glad to see you gave the old man a break."

Alicia laughed unamusingly.

"Yeah, we called a time out so he could catch his breath. He'll be down once he does."

"Good, don't want the boss to hurt himself trying to keep up with a pretty young lady," he playfully retorted. "But to answer your question, I'm making burgers and hand-cut fries. I'm making the pea protein kind though, since you have different dietary needs. Would you like to help?"

"Sure. I have nothing else going on," she replied before the older man began to laugh.

"Well, alright. Wash your hands first though. I know what you two were doing up there."

Alicia playfully rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't raised in a barn," she remarked before walking to the sink. That was when she also got a whiff of the dessert he was making.

"Are you making a dessert too?"

"Yeah, I'm making my grandmother's famous peach cobbler. It's a favorite of Ed's. It was gonna accompany dinner, but since you're gonna be at a friend's house tonight, I thought I would make it now so you can try it fresh."

"Oh, well thank you."

"You're welcome," he said as she walked back over by him. He glanced at her again, which is when he noticed her hair style. It looked familiar...too familiar.

"Say, when did you change your hairstyle?"

"Oh, this? Ed styled it for me after our pool time. He was telling me how your grandmother was a master of styling her and your mother's hair. And he learned from watching her."

"You don't say," Malcolm hummed.

His mind was racing once she said that. This whole time, since Ed started his sugar daddy life, he always made sure that he never let his past life be known to any other his flings. But now, here he was, letting everything slip through the cracks for this one Sweetie.

What kind of spell did she have him under? It must have been strong for him to have the audacity to give her a similar hairstyle his mother had in the 90s.

It kinda made him mad too. All this time he had to keep the secrets his father figure had and refrain from calling him "Dad", just for him to blow cover himself. It wasn't fair and if anything it was foolish.

Sure, he liked Alicia but could she be trusted? What if she was too good to be true?

"Malcolm, is everything okay?" she asked concerned. She could tell he was deep in thought.

"Yeah, everything is fine," he assured her. "It's a nice hairstyle by the way. It really fits your face."

"Thanks," she cooed.

"Alright, watch it with the flattery, son," Ed teased. "Alicia is my Sweetie."

"Eddie," Alicia chirped before she ran over to hug him. "He was just being nice."

"I know," he said before kissing her. "And thanks. I can't believe how much I learned just from observing your grandmother."

"Me either. Alicia told me."

"Do I smell Miss Mae's Famous Peach Cobbler?" Ed excitedly asked.

"No, you smell Malcolm Edward Matthews' Peach Cobbler," the chef clarified. "I know my attempt isn't even close to hers. And I wouldn't dishonor her in such a way."

"Oh, son. Don't say that. Your Cobbler is just as good as hers. I love it all the same," he told the chef before looking at Alicia. "You're gonna love it. I'm glad he's making it now so you can try it fresh from the oven."

"Well, I'm excited to try it now," she said. "Now, go and relax, Eddie. I'm gonna help Malcolm with the food."

"Okay, Alia," he replied before leaving her with a little smooch.

He made his way to his living room afterwards and sat down on the sofa, just pondering what he was going to do while he waited.

He thought about playing one of his records, but that would have given him the urge to pull Alicia away from his chef to dance with her again.

So he quickly ruled that out before he looked up at some of the pictures on the wall. A short smile appeared on his face, before his mind was flooded with more good memories. Memories that led him to suddenly thinking about Wanda.

He hadn't thought of her in years, but for some reason, now he was. So subconsciously, he pulled part of his rug up and unlocked a padlocked tiny door to a small compartment underneath.

Inside was an old scrapbook that hadn't been touched in years. It was covered in dust, but he could still clearly see the picture of him and Wanda on his old childhood swing that was placed in the little compartment behind the cover.

Her striking crystal blue eyes were still highlighted on the old photo, even more than his. It almost brought a tear to his eyes.

Carefully, he picked up the book, closed the door back, and readjusted the rug. He blew the dust off and then began to look at the photos.

His smile lingered on his face as he went down this bittersweet path down memory lane. It was hard to look at what he used to be, how young and vibrant he was, but also how harmful he was to Wanda.

He knew he led her on and deserved her betrayal, but it still hurt all the same. Especially since she included pictures of him and Lou when they were still friends and roommates.

Sometimes he wondered what life would have been like if he just forgave them and remained friends.

But that ship had sailed years ago.

And he still didn't think it was fair for them to get their happily ever after years ago when he didn't.

But the question was...was he now getting that happily ever after he so desired now with Alicia?

Guess time would tell.

---

The Art of Seduction

The next morning, the sound of a joyful hum filled the room, while a nicely thin crepe was placed on plate.

It was a sound that was quite unusual coming from the usually stoic man, but quite welcomed by him. He smiled as he noticed how well the pancake sat on top of the gold-finished, white china that once belonged to the late Madame.

He treasured the plate as well as all of the other diningware he inherited from her, sentimental items that she knew her son wouldn't have wanted. But she did love how much he liked her plates. He always smiled and had a nice comment about them when he saw them.

Her taste in the plates and utensils was reminiscent of his dear mother, Joan. But he wasn't privy to her old sets due to them all being in lost in a fire that also claimed her life.

The thought always crossed his mind when he focused too much on the plates. But he would always remind himself that he had the Madame too and he appreciated her much more than Dmitri for the short time he knew her.

After he snapped out of his inner musings, he decorated the crepe with creme and berries abound. Carefully, he wrapped it and then placed two eggs next to it, cooked sunny side up.

He wasn't really sure how you liked your eggs, but that's the way he liked them. The last thing to fix was his vitamin-enriched milk, a luxury he still had despite the war. And he was more than excited to share it with you.

Once poured, he put everything on a wooden tray and made his way upstairs to surprise you. He wasn't sure if you were awake or still asleep, but he figured the sight of him carrying your breakfast would make you smile either way.

Just his luck, you were slowly waking up and didn't even realize he wasn't laying by you anymore.

Then you saw him standing before you and your eyes immediately lit up. A smile followed and then a giggle before he smiled back at you.

"Monsieur, breakfast in bed?"

"Yes, good morning, Mademoiselle," he softly said before he put the tray in front of you. "I hope you enjoy."

"Oh, good morning to you too," you chirped before giving him a kiss. "You're too sweet, Monsieur. I've never had a man make me breakfast in bed. And everything looks and smells delicious."

"Thank you," he said with a blush. "I made your breakfast the way my mother used to make it for me as a boy."

"Aww, how sweet. Your mother must be a really good cook."

"She was," he quietly said.

"Oh, well I'm sorry for your loss. She must have been a great woman because she raised such a thoughtful son."

Jopling's blush deepened, although the guilt in the pit of his stomach started to rise. He knew she wouldn't think that if she knew he killed people for a living and did the shady bidding of the dirty rich in Zubrowka.

And if anything, his mother would be ashamed of what he became. But the money and power that came with this new position was just too inticing to not fall into the dark underbelly of his once promising investigative career.

It was that sudden guilt that made him walk away without another word, although you stopped him before he could get far.

"Where are you going, Monsieur?" you softly said.

"I was gonna leave you to eat," he quickly answered as his deep conscious kept telling him that he didn't deserve you.

"Oh," you softly replied in a sad tone. A tone that broke his icy heart.

"Unless," he started as he looked back at you. "You want me to eat breakfast with you."

"Yes, that's exactly what I want. I don't want you to eat alone."

"Okay, I'm gonna go get my food," he said before leaving to fetch said food.

Alone, you took another look at the delicious food before you and gently took a piece of the crepe.

Your fork was decorated with the wrapped piece of pancake as well as two blueberries on one prong and two strawberries on the other three.

Your eyes reveled in how nice it look again before it was placed on your tongue, chewed, and finally swallowed.

A satisfied hum left your lips before you dug in some more. You were in delectable heaven as you munch away at half of the crepe.

And it was quite the sight to behold for Jopling.

He hadn't cooked for another, let alone a woman, for so long. So seeing you enjoy his cooking brought another smile to his lips and deep blush to his cheeks.

"I'm glad you're enjoying your breakfast," he said to get your attention.

You jumped but then smiled at him after swallowing another bite of crepe.

"Yes, it's delicious. Thank you so much."

"You're very welcome," he said before he joined you in bed with his own tray of food. You smiled at him after he adjusted with the tray in front, then kissed his cheek.

He kissed your cheek back then began to eat his crepe.

"Mmm, I really impressed myself with this breakfast," he bragged as you giggled and leaned against him.

"How did you know I liked sunny side up eggs?"

"Lucky guess," he replied. "A very lucky guess."

You laughed.

"Monsieur, you spoil me," you chirped. "I could get used to this."

He laughed.

"If it meant having you in my bed, I would make breakfast for you every morning."

"Then I would oblige. After all, I would never reject the offer to be in your bed," you playfully said. "But I need to have my own clothes...because I totally didn't think of that before I came here last night."

"You can wear some of my clothes," he quickly suggested. "I think you would pull off most of my threads."

"Oh, Monsieur," you started with a deep blushed face. "You're too kind. But I accept. Thank you."

"Of course."

[kensatou]

you think YOU had a bad day at work?

bonus: sid shrieking "no!!!! NO!!!!!" loud enough to be heard in the stands and on camera

[salamispots]

something something giant isopod sharing is caring pass the detritus

inprnt

[keferon]

The tac net crash chapter is one of my favorites so far~

Ah and. Guess what. I just discovered that including this post, I made 50 pieces of fanart for Mistakes on mistakes until.. I’m so sane and normal about this story can you tell👍

[lazylittledragon]

do any other artists feel like. yeah you're a 'good artist' because you draw things that look nice, but like. TECHNICALLY? you're really not great

i really hate that i can recognise that yes, my art is good, but is it VARIED? is it dynamic?? is my anatomy good? is it full of texture and colour theory? do i know how to do This? can i do That? no, not really. and that's quite painful actually

[art-is-kayos]

Checking up on his commission

[fridgrave2-0]

hehe ghost-turbo haunting felix au

turbo is connected to the last piece of his code in the whole arcade - a trophy he gifted to felix in mid 80s as a symbol of him genuinely caring about their relationships on par with being the best racer. felix also gave him one of his medals and both kept their gifts next to other rewards, but when roadblasters and turbotime were unplugged, the medal was gone with everything else

now, after burning in cola-lava turbo is basically dead, but scraps of his code still were intertwined with the trophy (after all, it was his first winner's cup, but felix never knew about it), giving turbo an opportunity to exist as a shadow incapable of interacting with anything and anyone besides felix, who kept the trophy even after the roadblasters incident

also I went crazy in tags, feel free to check them out

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

oh right, technically i sell t-shirts

i forgot about that

[gatoiberico]

parfait pals

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Heartfelt Reunion.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[egophiliac]

buckle up lads we're going BACK INTO THE BOOK

[andy-clutterbuck]

Rick's leather sling | requested by EVERYONE

[kettlefire]

As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)

Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.

No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.

No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.

Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.

Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.

His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.

All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.

The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.

One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.

It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.

The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.

That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.

It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.

Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.

Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.

Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.

Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.

He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.

In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.

The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.

It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.

That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.

It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.

The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.

It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.

The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.

Lazarus pit green.

It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.

As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.

Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.

He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.

That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.

Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.

Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.

Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.

[little-pondhead]

DP x DC Prompt

…

There are no more heroes.

Well, okay. Rewind a bit.

Danny has been doing the hero thing for a while now. He’s had a big reveal; everyone has accepted him (including his parents), the GIW disbanded, the Anti-Ecto acts repealed, and generally, everything is going great. Some of the A-Listers are even training as junior ghost hunters to help give him a break from his rogues! (Being Ghost King makes things hectic sometimes, and he just needs the extra help. Sue him!)

The point is, literally nothing is wrong with Danny Phantom’s afterlife.

And then Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, disappears in front of his eyes.

Danny is baffled! She’s just…gone! Valerie just popped out of existence, like she was never there. But no matter how hard he searches in the Ghost Zone, he can’t find her soul anywhere. His core isn't broken in grief. So she’s not dead. Which is good. So then, where is she?

Some of the others come forward with ideas on how to find her. A few ghosts volunteer to go out into the mortal realm, an area Danny had declared off-limits, to see if she was out there. Danny approves it. He rounds up some of the friendlier (i.e., discreet) ghosts and Amity Parkers and demolishes the outside travel ban.

So everyone spreads out, looking for their dear frenemy and teammate. But it becomes apparent very quickly that something is wrong with the rest of the world.

There are no more heroes.

Every single living superhero on the face of the Earth has just…vanished. Villains are running amok; the countries are in chaos! Some aliens are invading Earth, mythical deities are trying to take over, and society is crumbling to the ground. Everything is on the brink of collapse.

Well, Danny was still there. And so were his people. They were pretty spread out, so could they just…take up the mantles? He also knew where to find the souls of dead heroes in the Zone; surely they wouldn't mind coming out of retirement for a little bit, especially if they couldn't die again. Oh! And that skeleton army leftover from Pariah Dark's reign might be useful in repelling those invading forces.

Honestly, there were more than enough hands to go around! And with the heroes gone, Danny didn't mind letting everyone out for a little break, as long as they followed his rules. They wouldn't stop the search for the other heroes, but hopefully, when they found them, the heroes wouldn't mind Danny's intervention too much. :)

In other words:

Someone fucks up, and all of Earth's living heroes are either wished out of existence or are whisked away to some far-off realm where Danny hasn't checked yet. In the attempt to figure out what's going on, Danny lets the dead run amok over the Earth as they search for clues. The skeleton army repels the invading armies, the souls of dead heroes deal with the world leaders, and his rogues and other Amity Parkers set up shop in place of famous heroes, trying to get the cities under control again.

Basically, they just do their best to keep everything from imploding until the Justice League and others are back.

(And why is it that Danny hasn't disappeared? Well, whatever caused everyone to go poof! only affected living heroes. Anyone heroes that were dead in the first place, or even just half-dead, stayed behind.)