#the main thing of my work is... my comics!

[lazy-ahh]

Lazy-ahh, first, your brain his huge and wrinkly for all the writing you’ve shared with us! You’re easily one of my fav Invincible writers! 🛐🛐🛐 Second, bless you for giving us more male reader in this desolate fandom 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Third, I had a request I’ve been thinking about and having a tough time deciding which Mark I wanted. I HC that Viltrumites can purr! Can we get something about male reader witnessing main Mark purr for the first time because of him? And reader’s completely weak for how cute it is. 🥺

THE SOUNDS HE MAKES (ARE ONLY FOR YOU)

pairing mark grayson x male reader

mark grayson purrs. it’s a secret only you know—something between a biological quirk and a love language, vibrating against your skin every time you touch him just right. and god, do you love finding new ways to draw it out of him.

taglist @hhoneylemon , @queermaeda , @yujensstuff , @thebatsgreatestfailure , @roryroro

you never expected to fall for someone like mark grayson. loud, optimistic, annoyingly persistent—everything you usually couldn’t stand. the first time you met him, he was all wide-eyed enthusiasm, rambling about superheroes like it was the most important thing in the world. you’d scoffed, called him an idiot under your breath, but he just grinned like you’d handed him a damn trophy. it pissed you off. or at least, that’s what you thought you felt.

but then he kept showing up—in the hallways at school, at the shitty diner you worked at, even outside your apartment like some lost puppy. and no matter how much you snapped at him, he never left. just stood there, smiling like you weren’t being a complete asshole, until one day, you realized you were looking for him too.

now, a year deep into dating the idiot, and somehow, you hadn’t strangled him yet. (though not for lack of trying.)

it was a lazy afternoon, the two of you sprawled across his bed, your head resting on his chest as he rambled about some comic book shit. you weren’t really listening, more focused on the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. you traced idle patterns along his ribs, just to feel him shiver, and smirked when his voice hitched mid-sentence.

"you’re not even paying attention, are you?" mark huffed, but there was no real annoyance in it.

"nope," you admitted, dragging your nails lightly down his side just to watch him squirm.

he laughed, breathless, and caught your wrist—not to stop you, just to lace his fingers through yours. "you’re such a dick."

"you love it," you muttered, half expecting him to roll his eyes or shove you off like anyone else would. but mark just squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that made your chest tighten.

"yeah," he said, soft and stupidly sincere. "i do."

your pulse jumped. you weren’t used to this—being wanted, being loved, especially not by someone who looked at you like you hung the damn stars. it made you feel exposed, raw in a way that should’ve sent you running. but then mark smiled, all crooked and fond, and you couldn’t help but curl closer, pressing your face into his shoulder to hide the way your own lips betrayed you.

that’s when you felt it—a low, rumbling vibration against your ear, so deep you almost missed it.

you stiffened. "the hell was that?"

mark blinked down at you, confused. "what was what?"

"that—that noise. did you just—" you cut yourself off as it happened again, the sound unmistakable this time. a deep, content purr, resonating from his chest.

your eyes narrowed, fingers stilling against his ribs as you lifted your head just enough to glare at him. the sound was unmistakable now—a deep, rhythmic hum vibrating through his chest, warm and alive under your cheek. it shouldn’t have been possible, but then again, neither was half the shit mark could do.

"are you fucking purring?" you demanded, voice rough with disbelief.

mark’s face flushed instantly, his stupidly long lashes fluttering as he avoided your gaze. "i—uh. maybe?" his voice cracked, and the purr stuttered for a second before doubling in intensity, like his traitorous body was daring you to tease him.

your chest did something embarrassing—tightening, then melting all at once. it was disgustingly cute. like finding out a wolf could wag its tail. here was this idiot who could level buildings with his fists, who talked shit in the middle of fights like it was a damn comedy routine, and he was purring because of you. because you’d scratched his scalp like some kind of overgrown housecat.

you should've mocked him. should've rolled your eyes so hard they'd get stuck, called him a pathetic excuse for an alien warrior—but your traitorous fingers were already moving, sliding through those soft dark curls like they had a mind of their own. your nails scraped gently against his scalp, barely there but enough to make his breath catch, and god help you, you needed to hear that deep, rumbling purr again like you needed your next breath.

"maybe?" you deadpanned, propping yourself up on one elbow to give him your best unimpressed glare, even as your free hand stayed tangled in his hair like you were afraid he'd float away. the way his pupils dilated when you tugged just slightly made your stomach do stupid flips. "since when do you purr? you some kinda fucked up space cat?"

he groaned like you were personally torturing him, covering his face with those big hands that could crush steel but always touched you like you were made of glass. "since always, okay?" his voice came out muffled, embarrassed. "it's a viltrumite thing. i can't help it when i'm—" he cut himself off abruptly, but the tips of his ears burned crimson.

your heartbeat kicked up at what he wasn't saying. when he was what? happy? content? completely fucking gone for you? you stared at him for a long moment, memorizing the way his throat worked as he swallowed hard, the faint tremor in his fingers where they covered his flushed face. then, because you were weak and he was yours, you flopped back down onto his chest with enough force to knock the air out of a normal person, pressing your ear firmly against the warm skin over his heart. you needed that sound like a drowning man needed air.

mark yelped, his whole body tensing beneath you. "what're you—?"

"shut up," you muttered, listening intently for that telltale vibration. the purring had stopped, and that just wouldn't do. your fingers trailed down his side, tracing the defined muscles there with deliberate slowness, lips pursing in poorly concealed anticipation when he squirmed under your touch. "do it again." your voice came out rougher than you intended, almost pleading, and fuck if that didn't make your face heat up. but you'd burn the world down to hear that sound again, to know you were the one who drew it out of him.

"i'm not a damn cat," he grumbled, voice already going thick and syrupy as your fingers found their way back to his hair. the protest died in his throat the moment your nails scraped gently along his scalp, that deep vibration starting up again—quieter this time, like a distant thunderstorm rolling in, hesitant like he was afraid you'd pull away.

something in your chest cracked open like dawn breaking. it was stupid. ridiculous, even. but god, it was cute in a way that made your ribs ache—this invincible boy who could punch through mountains melting under your touch, reduced to nothing but warm skin and rumbling contentment. the sound wrapped around you like sunlight through curtains, golden and impossible to ignore.

"huh," you said, voice softer than you'd ever admit, the word barely more than an exhale against his collarbone. "didn't know you could do that." didn't know you trusted me enough to let me hear it, you didn't add.

mark peeked down at you through his lashes, still pink-faced like a sunrise. "you're not gonna make fun of me?" he asked, but the way he leaned into your touch betrayed how much he already knew the answer.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes with all the theatricality you could muster. "oh, i'm gonna make fun of you forever." but your traitorous fingers kept moving through his curls, slow and reverent, and the purr grew louder, vibrating through you like a live wire, like the hum of power lines after a storm, like something alive and electric settling deep in your bones.

you hated how much you loved it. hated how your stupid heart turned traitor, flipping like a dying fish in your chest, how your blood sang in your veins like it had finally remembered what happiness tasted like. so of course you buried your face in the warm expanse of his chest, hiding the way your lips curved into a smile too tender for either of you to acknowledge, pressing closer until you could feel that purr in your teeth, in your soul, in all the broken places you'd never admit existed.

"freak," you mumbled into his skin, but there was no bite to it—just honey-thick fondness dripping from every syllable, so obvious even you couldn't pretend otherwise. your fingers tightened in his hair just to hear that purr stutter, just to feel him shiver against you, and fuck if that didn't make your chest burn brighter than any sun.

mark's laugh vibrated through you before you even heard it, that stupid, sunshine-bright sound that always made your chest feel too tight. his arms wrapped around you like living seatbelts, pulling until every inch of you was pressed against him—your nose buried in the crook of his neck, your knees slotting between his like puzzle pieces finally clicking together. when you tilted your head up to glare halfheartedly, his expression did something devastating; his eyes crinkled at the corners, his stupidly soft lips curving into a smile so warm it could've powered a small city. he looked at you like you'd hung the damn moon, like you were christmas morning and the last slice of pizza and every good thing rolled into one.

"yeah, yeah," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead that made your traitorous heart stutter. his purr kicked up another notch, thrumming through your ribcage until you wondered if he could feel your heartbeat matching its rhythm. "love you too, asshole."

and if you stayed like that for hours—mark's fingers tracing idle patterns along your spine, your hands fisted in the back of his shirt like you were afraid he'd disappear, his purr a constant, comforting rumble beneath your ear—well. no one had to know how easily he turned you into putty in his hands.

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

it became your best-kept obsession—cataloging every way to coax those rumbling purrs from mark's chest. the sharp intake of breath when your fingers found that spot just behind his ear, the way his lashes would tremble against his flushed cheeks when you scratched lightly down the nape of his neck. you'd discovered he was embarrassingly responsive to the smallest affections—your lips brushing his temple, your palm resting warm against the small of his back, even just breathing his name into the space between his shoulder blades in that private tone you never used with anyone else. each time, your ribs would ache with something too big to name, this glowing, golden feeling like you'd struck treasure no one else knew existed. and mark? he'd go pliant against you every single time, his purrs thrumming through your skin like a second heartbeat, his entire body thrumming with quiet joy just because it was you.

tonight, you waited until he was half-asleep against you, his head heavy on your chest as some old movie played forgotten in the background. you started slow—fingertips tracing meaningless patterns along his shoulder, feeling the way his breathing deepened. then, with deliberate care, you carded your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp the way you knew drove him crazy.

mark made this soft, punched-out noise against your collarbone, his body going lax against yours. "mmph...cheater," he mumbled, but he was already nuzzling closer, his arms tightening around your waist.

"shhh," you murmured, smiling against the crown of his head as that familiar rumble started up, quiet at first then growing stronger as you kept petting him. his purrs reverberated through your chest, syncing up with your heartbeat in a way that made something tender and aching swell in your throat.

"feels good?" you asked, already knowing the answer from the way he'd practically turned to putty in your arms.

mark tilted his head up just enough to press a sleepy kiss to your jaw, his lips warm and slightly chapped from where he’d been biting them earlier. “cause it’s you,” he slurred, voice thick with drowsy affection, like those three words held the entire universe inside them. and maybe they did—because with every purr, every content sigh, he was telling you without words what you already knew: he was yours, completely and utterly, in every way that mattered.

you couldn’t help it—your fingers tightened in his hair, tilting his face up to yours, and then your mouth was on his, slow and deep and burning. mark made a muffled sound against your lips, half-surprise, half-pleasure, before melting into the kiss like he’d been waiting for it all night. his purr kicked up instantly, vibrating against your chest as his hands slid under your shirt, palms warm and rough against your skin.

the kiss turned messy fast—mark biting at your lower lip just hard enough to make you groan, your tongue sliding against his in a rhythm that had him arching into you. his purrs grew louder, more frantic, every drag of his fingers down your spine pulling another broken sound from your throat. you could feel the way his body trembled under your touch, the way his breath hitched when you nipped at his collarbone, his hips jerking against yours in a silent plea for more.

"fuck," he gasped when you finally pulled back for air, his pupils blown wide, lips kiss-swollen and glistening. his purr was a constant, needy rumble now, his hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear. "you—you can’t just—"

you cut him off with another searing kiss, swallowing his whimper, your teeth scraping over his pulse point just to hear him fall apart all over again. his breath hitches, sharp and wet against your lips, his fingers twisting desperately in your shirt like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. you don’t let up—your tongue swipes over the bite mark, soothing the sting just to draw another broken sound from him, and fuck, you could live off this, the way his body arches into yours like he’s trying to fuse your skeletons together.

his skin is fever-hot under your palms as you slide them down his sides, mapping every shuddering breath, every twitch of muscle. when your thumbs brush the sensitive dip of his hips, he makes this noise—half gasp, half sob—his back bowing off the mattress as his purr stutters into a ragged, staticky vibration. you can feel it, the way his control splinters under your touch, his usual confident swagger reduced to trembling thighs and fluttering lashes. you still can't fucking believe you didn't notice such an important thing about mark earlier. he must have used all his strength to suppress the sounds he made to hide this from you for so long. no more hiding, you say.

"look at you," you murmur against his jaw, your voice gravel-rough with want. your fingers trail up his stomach, tracing the outline of each defined muscle like you’re memorizing him for the apocalypse. "all this just ‘cause i touch you?"

mark’s cheeks flush darker, his lips parted around uneven breaths. he tries to hide his face in the crook of your neck, but you catch his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. his pupils are blown wide, his irises barely visible rings of brown, and his expression is so ruined it makes your chest ache.

"s’not fair," he whines, his voice cracking as your hand skates lower, fingertips teasing the waistband of his sweats. his hips jerk up instinctively, chasing friction, but you hold him down with your free arm, pinning him with your weight. the way he goes pliant under you, his body surrendering before his pride does, sends a vicious thrill down your spine.

"tell me," you demand, nipping at his earlobe. "tell me who does this to you."

his breath comes in ragged, stuttering gasps—each one hotter than the last against your lips, trembling like the rest of him as he arches into your touch. his fingers scramble at your shoulders, blunt nails digging crescent moons into your skin, clinging like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. when your palm grinds down firm between his legs, he breaks for you, his purr shattering into a high, desperate whine that punches straight through your ribcage. "you," he chokes out, voice wrecked already, thighs shaking where they bracket yours. "only you, fuck—please—"

and god, you’ll never get tired of this—of how the great invincible mark grayson comes completely undone beneath you, reduced to a trembling, pleading mess with nothing but your hands and your name falling like a prayer from his kiss-swollen lips. you swallow his next broken sound with a filthy, open-mouthed kiss, licking into him slow and deep, savoring the way his breath hitches when you curl your fingers just so. his hips jerk up against your palm, chasing the friction, and the noise he makes—a punched-out, trembling moan—goes straight to your gut, white-hot and possessive.

you worship him like this: with your teeth dragging along his pulse point just to feel his purr stutter, with your free hand sliding up his chest to thumb over a peaked nipple, reveling in the way his back bows off the bed. "look at you," you murmur against his jaw, voice rough with awe. "so fucking perfect for me." his answering whimper is devastating—a broken, punched-out sound that vibrates against your throat where his face is buried.

his entire body flushes darker, that sun-kissed skin blooming a heated red from his collarbones all the way up to the tips of his ears, like you’ve lit him up from the inside. when you finally wrap your fingers around him, his hips jerk up into your grip, desperate and uncoordinated, his cock hot and heavy against your palm, the velvety skin stretched taut over thick veins. you stroke him slow and firm, twisting your wrist just the way you know he likes on the upstroke, and the wetness beading at his head smears slick over your fingers, making every drag smoother, messier. his breath comes in ragged gasps against your shoulder, his blunt nails digging half-moons into your biceps as he tries to ground himself, his thighs trembling where they bracket yours. the precome leaks steadily now, sticky and warm, and you can feel the way his stomach muscles clench under your free hand when you swipe your thumb over the swollen head, spreading the wetness in slow circles just to hear him sob your name.

"f-fuck—" mark’s fingers knot in your hair, tugging sharp enough to make your scalp sting, his hips jerking up into your grip like he’s trying to fuck into the tight heat of your fist. his purr is shattered now—glitching in his throat, a staticky, uneven thrum that breaks every time his breath hitches. you can feel the vibrations where your mouth is latched onto his nipple, your tongue swirling rough over the stiff peak before you bite down just to hear him wail, his back bowing off the sheets.

his chest heaves under your palm, sweat-slick and burning hot, every muscle in his abdomen fluttering as he teeters on the edge. you don’t let up—sucking another bruise into the delicate skin under his collarbone, licking a stripe up his throat to swallow the desperate, punched-out noises he’s making. his pulse rabbits against your lips, wild and frantic, and when you scrape your teeth over it, he sobs, his cock twitching violently in your grip.

“gonna—fuck, please—” his voice cracks, raw and wrecked, his thighs trembling where they cage your hips. you can taste the salt on his skin where your tongue drags over his nipple again, can feel the way his stomach tenses under your palm like he’s trying to hold back. his lashes are wet, his lips swollen from biting them, and when you press your forehead to his, his breath fans hot and uneven over your mouth.

your fingers tighten just enough to make him whimper, the slick twist of your wrist deliberate, perfect, and mark breaks. his back arches off the sheets, a choked, ragged cry tearing from his throat as he spills hot over your knuckles, his purr stuttering into a gasp so shattered it hurts to hear. you don’t let go—not when his hips jerk helplessly, not when his thighs clamp around your hand like he’s trying to keep you there forever, not even when his entire body locks up before collapsing, spent and trembling, into the mattress.

you kiss him through it, soft and reverent, swallowing every broken noise he makes—the hitched whines, the shuddering exhales, the way his lips move against yours like he’s still trying to say your name. his skin is fever-hot under your palms, his chest heaving as you stroke his hipbone with your clean hand, soothing now, gentling him through the aftershocks that still wrack his frame.

and god, you’re aching, your own hard-on straining against your boxers, but you barely notice—too busy memorizing the way mark’s wet lashes stick to his flushed cheeks, the way his pulse stutters under your lips when you press them to his throat, the way his fingers clutch weakly at your shirt like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. you won’t. you can’t. not when he looks like this—wrecked and beautiful and yours, his usual boundless energy reduced to this boneless, panting mess beneath you.

"look at you," you murmur, thumb brushing the tear clinging to his lash line. your voice is rougher than you mean it to be, thick with something too close to worship. "took it so fucking well, baby."

mark makes this soft, punched-out noise—half protest, half plea—as his body goes lax beneath you, but his purr stutters back to life anyway, faint at first like a dying engine trying to turn over. then it grows, uneven but persistent, vibrating through your sternum where your chest presses flush against his. you can feel it in your teeth, in the hollow of your throat, this quiet, physical proof of his contentment radiating through you like sunlight through closed eyelids.

when he finally slumps back into the sheets, his muscles melting into liquid warmth beneath your hands, his purr shifts into something deeper—smoother, like honey poured over gravel. it thrums against your skin as he nuzzles clumsily into the curve of your neck, his lips brushing your pulse point in a drowsy, open-mouthed kiss. "love you," he slurs, the words thick and syrupy with exhaustion, his arms looping around your waist to drag you down atop him with surprising strength for someone who just came apart under your touch.

and fuck, if that doesn’t hit you like a freight train—the way he clings to you even now, his fingers splaying possessively over the small of your back, his purr kicking up another notch when you settle between his thighs. his heartbeat thrums against yours, rapid but steadying, and you realize with a jolt that this—the weight of him under you, the salt-sweet taste of his skin where your lips press absentmindedly to his shoulder, the way his breath evens out against your temple—feels more like victory than anything else ever has.

3.9k words full of mark purring and reader being obsessed. honestly, if i were in reader's shoes i would've done the same thing- and sorry y'all i was in a freaky goofy mood when i wrote that second half LOLOL! thank you so much to the anon who requested this! literally screamed when i read this in my askbox, cause this is one of my guilty pleasures(?)/headcanons for mark LOL. also hell yeah male reader solidarity—we out here surviving the wasteland one soft mark grayson one-shot at a time 💀

[gwalch-mei]

sometimes you just need to draw your favs in fun, yet unrealistic outfits. as a treat <3

[modmad]

Is "into the inkwell" ever gonna fully release? Take your time on it of course, making beautiful art like yours must take a lot of time

I've kinda answered this in most of the posts but the thing is if I started to make this (without help) it would destroy all the other work I'm doing. it's too brain consuming and I'd want to make it look really good. hence why, realistically, if I want to make that comic AND keep making TPoH (my main income and the comic I've been making for 13 years) I need support to make it. I don't have the money to hire friends to make a fancomic, and if I put it up for sale without the WHO makers permission I'd be rightfully sued into a black hole. add into that I'm disabled, and drawing is a slow and painful process for me, and you may see where I am standing.

if you want this comic to be made, please! help me to reach the right people! I'm doing everything I can. I'm sending emails, I even dared to send RTD a very short and hopefully not annoying DM on instagram, but I can't get a ping anywhere. The more people who ask for it, the more likely it is to happen (it's also a question of demand: if they see people want it, they are more likely to respond!)

[becdecorbin]

TRAUM's first anniversary!

May 2nd is the date when TRAUM first started updating on comicfury. TRAUM story 1 especially is a lot of firsts for me, a continuous story that has a conclusion. but of course, TRAUM 2 picks up where the first story left off.

I'd also had never drawn so many pages for one comic, TRAUM 1 ended up being 333 pages long, total.

Chapter 1: 64 pages

Chapter 2: 62 pages

Chapter 3: 96 pages

Chapter 4: 111 pages

which is... just bonkers to me. how'd I manage that, haha. I mean, it does help that each page is in black and white and there's typically 3 pages per panel on average.

putting the rest of my rambling behind a cut, this ended up a bit long.

I'd been burned out on comics for a good while after Daddy Long Legs in 2011. considering it was a full colour comic with self-contained vignettes each update (once a week, even), is it any wonder I burned myself out. the setting also, unfortunately, no longer interests me. I may have done some things differently and I had comic ideas that never came to fruition, but oh well.

even so, sequential narrative art kept beckoning me, I'd been drawing shorter comics for ages and only when I stopped entertaining every single idea as Next Potential Comic Project I could take it easy. just drawing for fun. even if I had a few webcomic ideas that, alas, never quite materialized due to being too ambitious.

TRAUM isn't intended to be anything world-shattering or thought-provoking: what I set out to do was to draw characters going on adventures and seeing how they interact with one another, much like I used to do when I drew comics as a kid by the seat of my pants. it's fun to see characters doing their own thing.

TRAUM 1's story originally started with a basic premise: the subject of grief, bereavement. and because I'd been reading a bunch of Oz books I wanted to make my own scarecrow character, so Wedge was born. a scarecrow standing in a field and unaware their master had died long ago, and after that point they begin questioning their role as scarecrow. what can a scarecrow do if there's no field to scare crows away from? their ability to eat crows came first, but since they're able to do that, surely they can cry, too? I didn't initially intend Wedge to become a main character but it just kind of happened. the character relationships formed organically. I started shipping Wedge and Helmi! truly strange! but I ended up loving their chemistry.

after chapter 2 of TRAUM 2 ends, I uh, I'll see what I'll do, I've been working on another comic project, Lush&Flora, I have the first story fully thumbnailed and pages set up. chapter 3 of TRAUM 2 only needs to be inked and toned at this point, but I'll see how I'll find the time and energy, I'll probably have to put the comic on hiatus while I work on L&F.

in any case, thank you for reading TRAUM so far. I hope you've been enjoying it. it's definitely attracted a few detractors here and there, some not fans of Helmi and Wedge's relationship, someone else considering the comic to be boring, but, vast majority of folks commenting on the comic have been very civil and kind. I hope you enjoy other creative endeavours I may work on in the future, whether TRAUM related or not, only future can tell.

thank you!

[ducktoonsfanart]

Duck Avenger, Darkwing Duck and Gizmoduck together again - Quack Pack superheroes - Huey, Dewey, Louie and Gosalyn as Q-Squad - Gosalyn Mallard as Quiverwing Quack - Disney Ducks as superheroes - Darkwing Duck, Ducktales, Duck Comics and Quack Pack - Quack Pack AU - Duckverse - My style - My style and My version - Happy late birthday to Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck - Superhero Day

After a long time I decided to draw my favorite Disney Duck superheroes together again and besides them I drew my version of T-Squad, which is now also Q-Squad since they have four members, based on the last drawing. Otherwise I drew it as a redraw of old drawings from previous years, as well as on the occasion of Superhero Day which is celebrated on April 28th.

The first drawing I drew was Darkwing Duck (Drake Mallard) with Gas Gun, Duck Avenger (Paperinik-Pk-Donald Duck) from the PKNA version and of course Gizmoduck (Fenton Crackshell) who is behind them. Although they would clash with each other because of their angry egos, especially Donald and Drake, they would still work together. The only thing is that Duck Avenger and Darkwing Duck would be against Gizmoduck together because they don't like him and are jealous of him. I still like Gizmoduck though, as he's certainly a great Duck hero, but I prefer Duck Avenger and Darkwing Duck more. Yes, I drew them in the classic style in my own way, as they're usually presented.

The second drawing is my version of Q-Squad (T-Squad with Gosalyn). The Quack Pack version of Donald's nephews as teenagers as superheroes along with teenage Gosalyn as a superhero as well. More precisely, this is my redraw from an old drawing, and I think I need to improve a bit so I drew them again, but a little different and more modern the way they should actually look (I especially improved the drawing of the duck beaks). The reason I added Gosalyn to the Quack Pack superhero team is that Gosalyn has a lot in common with Donald's nephews, often defiant and rude, but very kind to her father and saves him when he needs it most, just like Donald's nephews with their Unca Donald. She also loves reading comics and playes video games and loves superheroes, so as a preteen she became the Quiverwing Quack and became an excellent shooter in the fight against crime and crime in St. Canard. Part of my fanfictions and headcanons along with my version of the Quack Pack AU is that Gosalyn as the Quiverwing Quack (based on Green Arrow, Robin from DC and Robin Hood) teams up with the T-Squad and together they form the Q-Squad and are mostly assistants to the main Disney Duck superheroes. I'll just say for those who don't know that my version of T-Squad consists of Huey as Red Shadow (based on Darkwing Duck), Dewey as Blue Cyclops (based on Gizmoduck) and Louie as Green Avenger (based on Duck Avenger). By the way, my version of Gosalyn as Quiverwing Quack is based on some drawings that were also drawn similarly to the original in the Darkwing Duck episode of the same name.

I hope you like these drawings, these new ideas of mine and these versions of these characters and feel free to like and reblog this, just don't copy these same ideas of mine and these versions without mentioning me. Thanks! Once again, I wish you a happy Easter, a happy birthday to Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck, and a happy superhero day!

[dulcecherub]

Igual Que Un Angel

Epilogue

Synopsis: Sofia is pregnant, and the last thing she needs is for Rafe to find out. It’s her dirty secret, it’s not like he’s barging down her door to speak to her. He looks as if he’s done with her for good. Will outside forces, force Sofia to confront the situation at hand. Or will she be able to keep this secret up? Not like, her belly isn’t growing everyday or anything.

Author’s note: the main plot of the series is finished. Just wanted to show you how Sofia and Rafe are like as parents and as a married couple. Sorry for how short it is! It took me so long to brain storm these ideas.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 14 | Epilogue

Four Years Later

“Rory! Please, no running around in the house. You’re going to hurt yourself!” Sofia says in a sing song voice. Aurora lets out an audible grunt. She crosses her arms angrily.

“But mommy I’m having fun.” She pouts. She throws her head back.

“I know, but there’s other ways to have fun.” Sofia picks up her daughter, twirling her around. As Aurora lets out a giggle, she grins up at Sofia.

“You’re so silly mommy.”

Rafe’s not home, so it’s just them too.

“Vamos a bailar…” Sofia continues to spin Rory around, erupting more giggles from her four year old daughter. Sofia laughs along with her. As they sway to the sounds of Sofia’s voice.

“Can we play music, mommy? Please?” Sofia adjusts her better, turning to walk towards the record player Rafe had purchased for her. The vinyl’s next to it, tucked on a shelf.

“Which one?”

“That one! That one!” Aurora points to one of the vinyls. One Sofia constantly played when she wanted to clean around the house. Sofia smiled, reaching to remove it from the row of vinyls.

“This one?”

“Yes momma.” Sofia places the vinyl onto the record player, the music cracking to life. Sofia begins to sway Aurora around the room. Singing along to the lyrics.

She turns her once more, to be faced with Rafe. Sofia jumps.

“How long have you been standing there?”

Rafe has a hand in his pocket and a smirk on his lips. “Not long, can I join you guys?”

“Yes! Yes! Join us dad!”

Sofia laughs as Rafe approaches, twirling them both around the room.

Rafe was alone with Aurora for the first time in a while. Usually so busy with work and finally he found a way to be with his family. Sofia, unfortunately for him, had work to do. She was now a preschool teacher.

“Ugh, dad! You’re doing it wrong!” Aurora chastises her own dad, Rafe tries to hide his laughter. But her outburst makes him chuckle outloud. She glares at him.

“Sparkly pink princess gets the red cup. Dr. Gloss gets the pink one.”

Rafe pulls his hands up in surrender. “My bad Rory. I thought since she’s called sparkly pink princess she’ll want the pink cup.”

“No, she doesn’t like everything pink. She likes colors that compliment her, duh.”

Rafe brows furrow. “Since when did you learn the world compliment? You’re four.”

“I heard mommy saying it to you.”

“So I’m dad and she’s mommy.” Rafe purses his lips comically. Aurora only giggles, pretending to make Dr.Gloss sip his tea.

“You’re so silly, dad.”

The front door opens then closes. He hears a shuffle of steps heading in their direction. Before long, Sofia’s head peers through the door.

She feigns a gasp. “You’re letting daddy playing tea part with you?”

“It’s dad, Sofia. Apparently you’re mommy and I’m just dad.”

Sofia smirks, “Not her fault she has her priorities straight.”

Rafe shakes his head, smiling at her. His eyes roaming her body, she moves closer, placing a kiss on his head before moving to do the same on Aurora.

“Hey mommy, can you join us please?” Aurora says, smiling up at her.

“Of course I will.” Sofia plops down on one of the seats. As Aurora prepares her “tea.”

“I got Dr. Gloss to finally get the one you like. The chamomile.”

“Okay, she needs to hang out less with you. Before you know it, we’ll have our very own like—boss baby.” Rafe says, eyeing Aurora.

“You’ve been watching boss baby?”

Rafe merely shrugs, “I was too lazy to change the movie.” Sofia laughs, it sounds like music to his ears. Aurora smiles at them both, pretending she isn’t listening.

“Our smart little girl.” Sofia coos at Aurora, kissing her cheek. Aurora giggles.

John B and Aurora glare at each other. Their uno cards pressed tightly to their chest.

“What do you know about uno?” John B says in a whisper.

“Everything.” Aurora whispers back, Sarah is trying to suppress her giggle. Little Jay shaking his head, rolling his eyes at his dad and his cousin.

John B dramatically drops his uno card, showing a draw 2 card. He smirks at Aurora but it instantly falls. A smile pressed onto Aurora’s face as well. She drops her card, showing a draw 2.

“No… no.” John B says, almost in horror. He picks up the four cards.

Sofia and Rafe are watching from the kitchen island. They’d lost already, much to Rafe’s dismay.

“I can’t believe she beat me.” Rafe murmurs, Sofia kisses his cheek.

“Sorry sore loser.”

His eyes widen, turning to her. “You lost too!”

“Yeah but not as bad as you.” Rafe rolls his eyes as he continues to watch.

“Uno.” Aurora says, John B’s mouth opens. “Sorry uncle Johnny.”

“It’s John B.”

“Well, I just beat you at uno. So it’s Johnny now.”

Sarah laughs as John B continues to be dumbfounded.

“I can’t believe I just got beat by a four year old.”

“Believe it buddy.”

Sofia turns to Rafe, “Yeah, she gets that from you.” Rafe only smirks, seeming proud of Aurora.

“So… you ready to tell them you’re pregnant again?”

Sofia cheeks flush, her elbow knocking on Rafe’s stomach.

“Not yet.”

Aurora turns to her parents, smiling at them with a big grin. They smile back. Sofia rests her head on Rafe’s shoulder.

“Not yet.”

[deoidesign]

Hii! I have been recently getting more and more obsessed with your art and webcomic and was wondering if I could use your art as like a profile picture? (With credit!!) If not that's perfectly fine! :)

yeah you can use my art for whatever as long as you're not stealing it or selling it

I don't mind if people print my art out for themselves either. I do sell prints, but it doesn't bother me either way

In general I don't post anything that I haven't made my peace with all that comes with sharing my art publicly! So feel free to use it as you please pretty much.

Giving me credit for the things I've made is respectful and helps me in my career, and I would hope that most people intend to respect my work... And the people who don't respect my work were never going to whether I asked or not.

I make my work for other people to enjoy it, I want you to enjoy it!

[jahdefender]

So I found this posted to reddit and I wanted to share it here because I'm sure there are some fans who haven't seen the Adventures Bible stuff. (I had not so this is just referencing myself)

[forgettable-au]

[BACK TO THE MASTERPOST]

Section meant to organize all the forgettable-au-related mini-comics!

They're gonna be organized as pre-comic and post-comic because some of these were created before the main comic started, this is to clear some confusion if you see some inconsistencies with the main comic, -especially- in the ones from 2022

Post-comic era

Drinking water (This mini-comic was a continuation of another mini-comic by @o-sunny-day)

Living situation

Pre-comic era

Pride month (LMFAO the last mini-comic before the main comic started was a joke comic)

Codeword

Annoying brother

Font problems

Nightmares

Like the back of my hand!

Something off

Name

Forgetting how to write

Goopy Gaster but it`s Christmas

Shitpost

Gaster blasters

Thanks!

Something missing

Someone else...

Mini-comic dump

WD in the current timeline?

-2022 mini-comics- (These are the FIRST EVER things I did about this AU, my art style is very different now + these are not accurate to current lore)

Flamethrower

VENTS!

[warmfuzzyanimal]

hi i'm alive i'm just struggling my way to happiness & productivity

[hmsdoodlin]

I have been struck with what every artist dreads, the burnout disease

[biazerod]

New TF2 comic cemented something in my mind and that it's going to be a decade now that I've been on the internet in fandoms and it's time to start wrapping it up :D starting with this blog

I started dozens of things that I never finished but finally I feel fine with leaving them to stay that way

It's been an honor to be part of this 🫡

I'll leave fave panel from comic

<3

[lisondraws]

The Interlude. A renowned and reclusive playwright pays a visit backstage.

[rabbitindisguise]

THE EXPRESSION ON MY FACE WHEN I READ THIS, I'M-

[wereh0gz]

Random thought but idk why ppl thought shadow shouldn't have gotten infected by the metal virus

Like. Yeah he's the ultimate lifeform. He's immortal and literally made to be immune to most if not all diseases. But

The metal virus. Isn't an actual disease

It's a bunch nanomachines that convert living organic material into more of itself

Shadow is made of living organic material

The only way he would have been immune (based solely on what canonical info there is on how the metal virus works) is if he was inorganic or dead, which he obviously isn't. And no just bc he was made in a lab doesn't mean he's not organic

Sure, they probably could've made him immune to it in some way, like say the high amounts of chaos energy in him burn it off on contact or something. But how to get rid of it is never fully explained. All we know is that something about sonic's speed burned it off for him, but it's not explained further as far as I can remember and the virus eventually mutated to become resistant to that anyway

Going super seemed to get rid of it completely for sonic tho, so the cure could've been chaos energy after all. Or it could've been like, chaos control warping time or the warp topaz warping reality to sonic and silver's will or something. Again, it's never fully explained, and who knows if shadow would've had the time to fight it off or cure himself anyway considering the circumstances of his infection

Anyway. Tldr shadow is living flesh and the virus infects all living flesh. Him getting infected makes sense based on what we understand of the virus. That's all

[intotheelliwoods]

To whoever is still alive after all that, congrats! You made it through the hard part! Hope you enjoyed the week event~ Not sure if I will be doing another one anytime soon though haha, also do expect a small break from me after this!

Few things to make clear to those who missed stuff:

This timeline is safe! The two Leos who are currently in the timeline will be happy and well by the end of things! From this point on its just them healing~

If by chance you are confused on what happened, I lovingly hand you this post! If you are still confused, feel free to send me an ask!

I am not paying for any medical bills <3 But hey the huggy leos persisted through just like I promised-