#they fill up... so fast........
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got thru over 100 drafts 💪
#and i am still not at the ship asks i havent answered yet 😔#i do short bursts of checking the first page or two now and then but sometimes i get a sudden motivation to clean through more xd#(most gets queued some gets deleted cus theyre double or not relevant anymore some get posted some stay cus i still gotta read them)#still got 400 to go rip (on this blog..)#they fill up... so fast........#lay rambles
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The Helena diaz of it all has me fascinated. I’ve said for a long while that Eddie’s real issues are his mommy issues and this episode just cemented for me that we’re gonna explore that and deal with it.
Because it’s Helena who forced Eddie to grow up to fast - because her husband wasn’t around much - so she pushed Eddie into de facto parent and husband role ls - selfishly filling her needs and ignoring the damage it was doing to her son (it is a form of abuse in my book).
Eddie then had the audacity to fall in love with and marry Shannon and get her pregnant. It’s why Helena was always so off with Shannon - she was punishing her. She is also punishing Eddie for all of this and his refusal to return to El Paso only cemented further her bitterness and resentment.
Now she does have Ramon back she doesn’t need Eddie any longer to fill that role so she is still punishing him and part of that is tied into her glee over now getting to parent Christopher - something she has always been intent on doing the doppelgänger just gave her the opportunity- as well as allowing her to further punish her son and his love of Shannon.
Her barbed comments about building a pool were all about showing what she can provide Christopher - how she is parenting him better than Eddie - it’s part of her mind games - making Eddie feel like more of a failure as a parent to his son.
The reality of course is that the reverse is true - Helena’s parenting is all superficial, flash and showy - it isn’t the hard day to day parenting when things get tough and you have to be the bad guy. While Eddie has made mistakes, there is nothing superficial, flash, or showy about his parenting. It’s why bucks comments about Eddie being a great dad are so important.
Eddie feel like a failure right now and that he is entirely to blame for everything. But in reality, while he does bear a bit of the responsibility, the truth of the matter is that he needs to learn and deal with the fact that all of it actually stems from Helena and her abuse of her young son - Shannon never stood a chance just like Eddie never has.
#genuinely don’t see how she can get any sort of redemption arc#but this is 911 so maybe they’ll find a way 🤷🏻♀️#Helena’s treatment of Eddie is a form of child abuse - it has done so much damage to him psychologically#I do really hope we finally get to meet Sophia and adriana as part of this arc beciase I think it might be very revealing#I am also wondering if Ramon had a stache in the past - and that is what Eddie is subconsciously trying to mimic#and that is about him trying to regain his mothers affection - trying to fill that husband role she forced him into#and that shaving it off is a part of his dealing with that and choosing to free himself from her clutches#and in doing that - standing up for himself etc - it will be the trigger that v ring schristopher back#the catholic guilt and Eddie’s queerness is also all tied up in this - the church reinforces and condones Helena and her actions#the Catholic Church has a long history of abuse of children in all it’s horrendous forms#so Eddie seeking solace in that direction think it will help him find away back to Helena’s good books only for it to open a few doors he#has bolted shut#as for the queer aspect - forcing Eddie to grow up too fast and fill this role of husband to his mother and parent to his siblings means#Eddie never got the chance to learn who he actually is - to explore his sexuality and all that goes with that - at the age one normally#would - as a teenager and into your 20��s. it explains so much around his relationship with Shannon and dealing with the helana of it all#and the queerness of his identity - will also allow him to actually let Shannon go#Eddie’s arc is going to be incredible - heartbreaking and gut wrenching - but incredible#Helena diaz it’s on sight - she is evil and cannot be redeemed in my eyes!#911 spoilers#Thinky thoughts#eddie diaz#911 abc
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the difference between these two 🥺 both??
funny story though. my roommate is still taking food but my memory is so bad when it comes to things i don’t eat myself (adhd)
when i talk to friends and family about the situation the first thing they ask is, “are you sure you’re not sleep eating?” which is adorable. they wanna believe, even if for a second, that maybe i’m not truly at fault for making myself into such a cow 🥺 i get it bc im getting very fat even with the thievery but at the same time. im literally being gaslit
#by my roommate#every time j bring smthn up she’s like ‘oh??? that’s crazy??? wow’#snd she’s a bad liar but i’m such a pushover bc#i have had the fridge so filled with food i look like such a pig i can’t blame her#it’s FINE#but how cute. i wanna start sleep eating 🥺#funnel me in my sleep? make me confused as to how i’m gaining so fast?#i wanna ask someone why i’m having such a hard time moving around when im not eating a lot more#cuddle up to me n change the subject if i bring up how fast we ran out of heavy cream this time#<3#talk#ask#does this count for that tag?#what if my feeder gaslit me. in a cute sexy oh u cow kind of way#i swear the funnel moves after each night and i wake so full but obviously im just forgetting where we put it each day#it’s getting hard to fit through the doorway#obviously i’ve just been lazier than normal. no way im getting that fat#we knew i’d have mobility problems but so early on? i just need to get out#it’s not because he’s started to pump more calories into me anyway he can
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haha hey guys long time no see im very sorry but here's some anime/RSE maxie and archie spreads i did in my sketchbook to get myself used to drawing on paper again as an apology
#i kinda just chose screenshots of them i liked and drew them#but finding good screenshots of maxie can be so hard bc in some frames he just looks really stupid in some shots lmao#maybe ill post my collection of slightly fucked up looking maxie frames that ive found soon#im super proud of the cutout ones i did#i think they turned out really well#cutting Archies out was a nightmare bc of how i draw his hair but we got there!#AND CUTTING OUT THE STUPID RED ORB TOOK ME 5 TRIES BECAUSE I HAD TO CUT OUT WHERE HIS HAND WAS AND I KEPT MESSING IT UP LMFAOOO#dont mind the shitty magma and aqua symbols i did those really fast as a last minute addition to fill space lmfao#yeah the dates on these are from last month and earlier this month SHHHHHHHHH im posting these a little late#sorry for my absence i have been in an art rut lately and havent done much :(#pokemon#magma leader maxie#aqua leader archie#hardenshipping#i guess theyre just both here#pokemon oras#nugget art!!
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#22.12.22#3208#books r still a great gift i just felt silly about it bc i 1/ got that for all gifts 2/ it was 100% last minute i hadnt managed it earlier#also i didnt actually read them after they were gifted though so eh#& hiiii hihi im back i got a new psu delivered fast and now pc works again so that was actually the issue hurray no sweat#postin this one manually and then i'll go fill the queue some more#the impending threat on it now though is i havent managed to keep up with coloring lately and i'm running out fast#but i'll get back to it its fine (probably)
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do you ever think about how Ohkubo extremely casually dropped the fact that Spirit & Kami were teen parents & then proceeded to never expound upon that fact or bring it up ever again despite it explaining a whole lot about them & Maka
#I think a big part of why I'm so attached to/interested in spirit as a character is because he objectively has A LOT going on in his life.#but because he was created to fill that stock pervy comedic-relief anime side-character archetype we never get to see any of it examined.#or even brought up at all for the most part#like spirit apparently comes from a long line of death weapons who despite having been loyal to lord death for generations are never ever#mentioned & who spirit himself never mentions despite carrying on the family tradition (although he's not unique in that regard tbh)#at 12-13 years old he becomes stein's weapon partner & in his own words it became “[spirit's] job to control [stein].”#another kid with a laundry list of mental health & behavioral issues that spirit probably wasn't super prepared to help “control”#(personally I think that this “job” of spirit's was a duty he took upon himself rather than something lord death necessarily told him to do)#then just ~5 years later he 1) loses/rejects said weapon partner & probably best friend after some really major boundaries were crossed#2) becomes a husband & father at just 18#(& in his own words a broke 18 year old at that. another point towards him not being in contact with any family if they're even alive)#3) becomes technically one of the most important people in the world once he ascends to being a death weapon.#not necessarily in that exact order but certainly in quick succession.#& then we fast forward to canon & spirit's at best a guy who drinks way more than he probably should & at worst a functioning alcoholic#who's only A MONTH into being divorced for his habitual infidelity & is in the really weird position of being the primary caretaker of his#daughter who (rightfully) hates him despite him having zero custodial rights over her.#& imo he seems to have no friends in death city before stein & the other death scythes return despite generally being a people person.#like. spirit is kind of the epitome of should've been at the club lmao#soul eater#spirit albarn#kami albarn#meta (kind of. not really lol)
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doodles from class tonight
#my friend was like “you filled up that page so fast” erm. sonic does that to me#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#amy rose#shadow the hedgehog#surge the tenrec#blaze the cat#cher doodles
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It’s insane that I’m only a few years older than this cast and yet they’re making me feel ancient
like that’s my KID
and he got so much OLDER all of a sudden
WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN
#Biblically accurate Percy Jackson#Look at him guys he’s filling out his armor#*sniffs* they grow up so fast#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo tv show#pjo tv series#pjotv#riordanverse#Forge rediscovers her childhood personalities
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Kotone Furukawa in Umi No Hajimari (2024) - Ep. 2
#kotone furukawa#furukawa kotone#古川琴音#jdrama#jdramaedit#jdramasource#wocdaily#there should be a tag like jdramaladies or something... i'd fill it up so fast#**
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Collaborative 2AL Comic Calling and Info!
Oh BOY did this blow up...
Ive polished up dialogue and framing, in total there should be 30 panels, exactly the tumblr image limit haha! Everyone who is participating gets to draw a panel! I will message you the dialogue, and a general layout once I get everyone in! :) I look forward to this!
30/30 Participants [full!]
If you are interested in joining, please message me here on tumblr or Discord! [Discord would be preferred in the long run]
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-> Deadline for panels?
2 Weeks! Hoping everything can be ready to go to post by September 24th!
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-> What style to use?
Your own! I would love it if you can have as much fun as you can making the panel! The more unique each panel is the better, I dont want to constrict anyones artistic ability outside dialogue, where characters are in a room, and a vague framing idea/expressions.
As for coloring, fully colored and digital would be preferred! Just blue blobs can also work! With the exception of 4 specific panels, flashback panels, in a black/white/red scheme to help differentiate what panel is a flashback, and what panel isnt. I will let you know if your panel is one of those specific 4!
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-> How will posting and crediting work?
When the panels are all done, I will gather them up into a singular post on this blog. Below the comic itself in order of panels would be everyones @ to the blog they want credited, Multiple blogs can also be credited ofc (For example If you drew panel 3 you will be the third @ on the list)
You are also free to add a signature or @ to your blog in the panel art itself!
#the really funny thing is#I think this collab might be done when I hit 4k followers#so does that make this a 4k special?#eh maybe maybe not#eitherway im still doing a dtiys when we get there#... maybe <3#btw if I dont answer your message if you message me#chances are im just getting a million other messages that is all sdfnjksdfg#this might... fill up really fast.....#ough#lets see ig#anyways I think this is all the info I need?#if you have questions or if I may have missed something here lmk#deadass never seen a collab comic like this on tumblr before sooo#guess I am the first to try figuring out how shit works#if one person has not met the deadline I will probably draw the panel myself#if 3 or more people have not met it I will just extend the deadline by another week
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((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))
“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞
From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa
anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)
Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence
15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”
When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed.
Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.
He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay?
But, uh. Let’s back up a little.
—
Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.
He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air.
Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.
So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.
With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.
"What's going on here?"
The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.
"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.
“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.
The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.
“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”
“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”
Tim stops in his tracks.
“Forty-eight—?”
“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”
Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive.
Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front.
Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.
It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.
Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—
And then Tim thinks about the call.
The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later.
He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.
“Today,” he repeats.
She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”
"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."
—
He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.
Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.
Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.
Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.
He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.
As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.
“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”
The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.
“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”
“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.
“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”
“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.
“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”
“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”
—
The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape.
He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.
He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.
By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.
“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”
He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this.
Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.
Fuck it.
He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.
Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’— which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.
Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.
He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.
Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—
And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.
“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”
He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.
—
Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.
See, here’s the thing.
The thing is, he has options.
He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down).
He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.
And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.
No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.
With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:
“Hand over your wallet!”
He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.
Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.
Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.
The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.
“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”
The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.
“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”
The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”
Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight.
His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.
“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”
“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.
Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.
“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”
Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.
“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.
Tim blinks. So do the muggers.
He knows that voice.
“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.
Everything happens pretty quickly after that.
Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.
Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes—
Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.
Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop.
So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.
Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.
“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”
Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.
Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”
Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.
Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.
“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.
Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.
“Yeah. Had.”
So much for the League, Tim muses.
Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror.
“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”
Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”
Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.
“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed.
God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way.
“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”
—
They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.
“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”
“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”
Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”
“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”
“Again. Fucking ew.”
“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”
“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”
Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”
Jason thwacks him upside the head.
“Ow! What the fuck?”
“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”
“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”
“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.
Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”
Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.
“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”
Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.
Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.
“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”
Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”
Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.
“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”
“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”
The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.
Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.
“Jason—!”
“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”
“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”
“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”
“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.
“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”
The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.
“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”
Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.
Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.
“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”
“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.
“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.”
Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.
“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”
He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.
And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.
He knows, okay?
“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”
“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”
Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.
And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to.
But he still means it.
“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”
The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.
“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.
The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.
But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.
Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”
Jason’s grin is electric.
He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.
Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—
—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.
“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”
“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.
“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”
Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch.
The kiss is— bad. At first.
Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.
Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.
Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.
“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.
“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”
Tim is already asleep.
#one hundred thousand years have passed#i creak up out of the soil gasping and hacking and coughing#'i lived bitch'#'have some jaytim that grew legs on me'#my writing#asked and answered#jaytim#ladytauria#hurt/comfort#this one is sillier and more light-hearted than the other ones#the hurt is more like 'near tears travel exhaustion' than your typical aftermath of violence lol but it so definitely counts#i held a gun to the head of the muse that said 'this is way too short' and pulled the fucking trigger#i KNOW it's a very fast get together but i did Not want this to become my next 5 digit wordcount fic okay. okay. oka#the bones of a long 'tim and jason vs the league of assassins' fic is hiding here#and if i actually wrote that this would have ended much differently#but i am Not Writing That okay I am Writing Cowboys and also Werewolves Right Now. I Do Not Have Time For This!!!!!!#prompt fill
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If they had ninja restraining orders Naruto’s ass would be in so much trouble 😭😭
#Sasuke would have took one out on his ass so fast#he rips them up and keeps filling new ones depending on his mood#naruto#naruto uzumaki#random naruto thoughts#sasuke uchiha#sns#?
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look at how cute his little hydrophobic toes are
#tarantulas#spiders#this is like the 6th time i've tried uploading this image today idk why tumblr app hates my fat spider so much#he's so cute!!!! he came over right after i filled the bowl and dipped his toes#then sat there for 3 hours#i think he's going to molt soon! they grow up so fast#i love him. he still doesn't have a name
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character that unironically came to me in a dream??
#super fast sketches bc i didnt wanna forget the design#fun fact even in the dream i wasnt sure about her design#like. her ''''''''normal'''''''' hand kept changing from actually normal to the one i drew here#same for the legs. from normal to bird-like bc i couldnt decide#from what i remember this isnt her original form?? like. She got infected with a parasite that transformed her body into this#but it kinda went wrong bc the transformation isnt complete or smth#she couldnt remember anything before the transformation. Also the parasite could talk to her i think??????#she was pretty cool with it tho#she also uhhh woke up? in a foggy minecraft taiga?? and the spawn chest was filled with like#stuff and armor that only she could use#i cant draw armor for the life of me but iirc it looked like the one malenia from elden ring has. at least the helmet#anyways yeah im done yapping i swear#tamyart#oc stuff#one thing that i absolutely love about her are the wings#she has two wings btw. just all on her left side for some reason#yknow what she reminds me of. Chelshia from khimera: destroy all monster girls#<- absolutely maniacal name but i swear that game is so fucking fun
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I wanted to bring up a silly ship idea. Just for fun.
03, 06, 09, 10
Was this before Kotoko attacked them? After? I dunno.
Thoughts?
YES the cringefail 20yo polycule 👏👏👏 Thank you for the request! I've seen a lot about the individual pairs, so it was really fun to think about all their dynamics together! I have a set of hcs that could work in the current canon Milgram, and then a normal au set because it's so fun thinking about them :3
Milgram-focused
The I’m-a-loner-who’s-doing-it-for-justice-don’t-TOUCH-me pair finally meet their match when confronted with the I-loved-someone-so-much-and-don’t-plan-on-stopping pair. They all go into the relationship with grand ideas of love: they think it’s all heroic acts of saving, massive gestures or love, and dramatic confessions. Over time, they realize the real heroism/romance is in the little things.
Mahiru has her hands full with three people who neglect themselves for the sake of their work/interests, but she always loves feeding them and helping give them what they need. In turn, they can give her more affection and attention than she could ever ask for. They make sure someone is always around to spend time with her.
Each of the three is a perfect match for dealing with John’s reveal. Mahiru is calming and helps tone down Mikoto’s initial stress. Fuuta is honest and will help Mikoto finally confront his own situation and move forward. And since Kotoko can match his strength, Mikoto doesn’t need to be afraid of accidentally hurting anyone. Mikoto becomes less stressed with the overall situation as well as more accepting of himself/John.
I always love the idea that Fuuta is secretly starstruck by Kotoko and John’s strength. He’ll never admit how much he admires their ability to stand up and fight. He feels really safe around them. He’s glad to have the opportunity to fight for someone else, too – he likes to be Mahiru’s self-proclaimed protector and hero. (Even though most of the time she can stand up for herself, she still likes letting him take care of her.)
Kotoko’s experiences let her hold solid conversations with everyone. She’s similar enough to Fuuta where they share some interests (social issues, schooling, etc.) She understands hard work and burnout to earn Mikoto’s respect. She understands physical strength to earn John’s. She has a lot of people-knowledge, so she can gossip and talk about Tokyo life to Mahiru (Mappi’s doing most of the ‘gossiping,’ but Kotoko has solid additions). She's a good listener and has a good memory, so everyone feels heard by her.
They start to rub off on each other. Mahiru and Mikoto learn to be a bit tougher in standing up for herself. Fuuta, John, and Kotoko learn to take a breath before jumping right to violence. They stay very much who they are, but pick up on just a few habits that make their lives easier.
Their styles also influence one another: Fuuta gets pointers from all three about piercing his ears (though it takes him a long time to get up the nerve to do it). Mahiru helps the others dress more trendy and boost their confidence, and they teach her to worry less about her appearance and relax more.
If they get together T1, Kotoko is shocked by the T1 verdicts. She might pull away from everyone in initial horror, but after developing a relationship ahead of time, she doesn’t follow through with her attacks. If not, then maybe in T3 when Kotoko is suffering from her guilty verdict, Mahiru and Mikoto are able to bridge the gap and develop a friendship, leading to more. Fuuta would take longer to come around, but I think seeing Kotoko got through the same pain as him, his hero instincts would kick in and he’d gradually help.
Normal-au
Mahiru once again tries out her lovers’ interests, and gets a bunch of new hobbies. Fuuta teaches her to game, she works out with Kotoko, and she tries out photography with Mikoto. She becomes close with Fuuta’s beautician sister, and enjoys bonding over fashion and hair. She helps redye Mikoto’s hair, and give the other two pointers on style now and then. When going to nicer events, she and Mikoto have to step in and stop the others from their sneaker/hoodie combos. As the only one with a license, she’s the designated driver at all events, but doesn’t mind.
Fuuta uses his tech skills to set up social media accounts for the others. He helps Mahiru network her flower shop, fighting anyone who leaves a bad comment/review. He helps set up a complex online portfolio for Mikoto. He and Kotoko still have a passion for justice, and he becomes the tech brains behind her vigilante operations (very Ron Stoppable - Kim Possible) It’s not necessarily healthy growth, but they’re happy with it lmao
Mikoto is the only full-time worker, the others are all still in university, and he makes sure to keep them all on track. He knows the most efficient tricks and cheats about getting papers done, pulling all-nighters, and cramming before an exam. The others have learned to spot when he’s burning himself out for others, and will stop him when he tries to take on too much. They’ll take care of him and force him to rest. While he can still get into a bit of trouble, John learns to call them first and get some help.
Kotoko has trained herself to find people and information easily to catch criminals, but she finds use for it in much more mundane ways – she tracks down clients for Mahiru, snoops around Mikoto’s company to make sure he’s being treated right, and keeps an eye out for the people Fuuta is calling out and/or hanging out with. She goes on runs with Mahiru, and bike rides with Mikoto. Fuuta tags along sometimes to strengthen his legs for soccer.
There’s definitely potential for them all to have their murders pre- or mid- relationship, and they help one another improve themselves and heal. I’m also a sucker for the relationship itself to cause them to change their ways and narrowly avoid the murder in the first place. (For the latter, Mahiru would ironically be the last to join the relationship, since she’d still be with her bf until the other three inspire her to break it off with him gently.)
#milgram#fuuta kajiyama#mahiru shiina#mikoto kayano#john milgram#kotoko yuzuriha#you got a peek at some in the first set but i cleaned them up and finally finished the second set >:3#thank you for waiting asdfdsf these were really fun to think about :D#im loving the image of the four workout buddies asdfdsf#and id imagine their home is filled with photos as mikoto and mappi take a bunch of everyone :')#even in milgram i can see them snapping lots of shots#i know its harder to swing a post-attack relationship but i do think its possible given how intense everything is#just as prisoners were friends one day in t1 and enemies the next in t2 i think things can change fast#and yeah... im so sappy over them all picturing these massive gestures of love:#beating someone up to protect their lover - gifting them something elaborate - saving them from a burning building - planning an exotic dat#and instead they find that preparing a meal after a long day means the world to them#getting up early to workout and keep them company is huge#remembering little details about them and their interests changes their lives#<333#OUGH now i just want them to be happy ;---;#headcanon time milgram
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how do u draw so much so fast
well,
#the short answer is autism and ritalin. btw#the long answer is: i wake up anywhere between 730-0900. i draw. if i have work when i come back i go and i draw.#i go to bed anywhere between 0100 and 0230. i wake up the next day and i draw.#i dont draw fast and in fact i get distracted and/or procrastinate quite often#i just have 16 hour days! every day! i am awake for 16 hours! sometimes more depending on the general mood! [cursed emoji here]#and like! wtf do you even do at that point?? how do you fill a 16 hour day? an 110 hour week? an almost 6000 hr year?#i draw! i have been drawing *seriously* since grade 2! and i have *seriously* loved the persona series since like mid/late 2017!#for those of you keeping score at home; i am 19! 2017 was grade 7 for me! ive loved this series for almost a full third of my life!#[continued emotional rant cut for length] but this is my community and my arts been the way i interact with this community since#(looks at my blog archive) 2019 when i posted my first persona art! please dont look at any of that now tho lmao!#so i guess. if the long answer needs to be short too then the long answer is love!!!! its always been love!!!! AND ALSO STILL RITALIN!!!!!!#asks & requests#personal
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