Do They Have A Skincare Routine?

I heard someone say that all your hobbies can be traced back to a single moment which made me remember that when I was in elementary school, my sister and I would have "storytime" late at night after my parents went to sleep. And it would just be me rewriting the ending of shows we watched when we didn't like the endings. Chat I was literally writing fanfiction for wild Kratts.

those first 22 issues i read last night were enough to make me want to draw him ngl

Omgod percabeth office au where Percabeth are emailing back and forth over an issue in passive aggressive corporate speak (Percy totally thinks they’re flirting, Annabeth is confused and problemsolving)

Annabeth: What's the most polite way to phrase "you fucked up big time and need to fix this now or else" in a professional email?

Percy: "Hello, I hope this email finds you before I do"

Being a fic writer sometimes feels like I’m a reality tv producer running around with a camera to capture scenes

And sometimes, parts of the cast just aren’t mic’d up - so I have no idea what they were saying in my maladaptive post production writing /editing

And then I have to be the annoying “um excuse me☝️” guy to remind everyone I need to HEAR WHAT THEY’RE SAYING TO WRITE IT HELLO

But now the chemistry’s lost 💔 it’s not as organic💔 so now I have to run one on one confessionals with my cast hoping someone will remember what the hell one character said / thought at that particular time with enough clarity for me to frankenstitch a semi decent conversation together( everything they say is to be taken with a grain of they-don’t-know- what-I-have- in-store-for-them salt )

Trying to explain scenes from my fic to anyone but words escape me and the characters do whatever they want and I need to literally project the visuals into your mind complete with a soundtrack of whatever song I was cooking it up to so I end up saying um and ah alot

but pleek you get it right? RIGHT-

Jason gets Peter a motorbike for his birthday

And Peter’s so ecstatic that he momentarily forgets about everything else.

“Well I still think my gift’s better.” Dick mutters (sulks).

Tim has the courtesy to hide his snort. Artemis just outright laughs.

Black with red highlights, a shiny metallic web addition that continues over the gas tank and ending just over the fender. The bike is sleek and fucking wicked.

And he says as much, of course.

Jason, smug, tosses the keys. “So try it then.”

Peter catches them on reflex then laughs a little nervously. He puts the key into the ignition, the motor is surprisingly quiet. Discreet. Perfect for quick escape or even a casual night drive.

“I love it.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “course you do. I customised it. Now stop fucking with me and get on.”

But Peter stares at him. And Jason stares back. And now they’re both at a staring stalemate when a realisation dawns on Jason and his jaw drops.

This is the conversation that follows:

Jason: You’re kidding me right?

Peter: I never had the time…

Tim: You’re old as hell dude, what do you mean no time? Wait - how do you even get around?

Peter: [winces] Well public-

Tim: PUBLIC TRANSPORT?

Artemis: In Gotham?? Are you insane? You do realise some of those bus stops are like..not real right?

Jason: I have never seen a bus before. I’ve been driving since I was 8

[ Tim mutters a sly “we can tell” but it gets drowned out by the commotion ]

Peter: I lived in Queens all my life dude never got around to it I’m sorry!!

Cue: spontaneous driving lessons in Art’s car with Backseat Driver Jason, “You’re going too fast” Dick, “He cut you off - run him over” Artemis and “the horn is my stress reliever” Tim

1. Peter, sitting nervously in the drivers seat after putting on his seatbelt

Peter: Are you sure about this Artemis? I don’t want to ruin your car.

Artemis: oh this is Wally’s. You’re fine.

Peter: Doesn’t he drive to work? What if I crash?

Artemis:. . .then he’ll walk. Duh.

2. After explaining the basic semantics

Dick: okay now turn left.

Peter: my left or your left.

Dick:. . .we have the same left?

3. A car behind them begins driving too close to them

Peter: omgod why the hell is that car is so close. What do I do?

Jason: keep driving, that loser can man up and over take us.

Artemis: Break check him.

Tim: that’s illegal-

Artemis: -and then keep reversing. See how he likes kissing my ass.

4. Peter stuck going round a round-a-bout

Peter: WHERE DO I EXIT-

Dick: LEFT LEFT TAKE THE NEXT LEFT-

Peter: WHICH LEFT IM GOING IN CIRCLES-

Jason: YOUR LEFT YOU PSYCHO-

Artemis: We need to pullover TIM’S FAINTED

Artemis: (moments later) no never mind he’s just asleep.

———

Based on scenarios I’ve concocted in my mind palace thinking of my Peter in Gotham fanfic (writing it has been treacherous and I need reprieve)

Sometimes, Peter forgets he and Dick are related

So they’ll be sitting next to each other on the couch eating takeout and talking about their day or things they planned to do that weekend - only for the realisation to hit him.

That Dick isn’t just a distant cousin or close friend like some of his documents like to state - but in fact, a variant of his bio dad from another universe who he’s grown accustom to and come to appreciate in his own way.

The Richard Parker he’d heard about through the nostalgic tales of his uncle - confident, fiercely loyal and charismatic - sitting beside him in shorts and a ratty tee discussing the fortune cookie that he took upon himself to open (“it can’t be my fortune if it wasn’t supposed to be my cookie..right?”)

Dick wasn't some distant figure in the albums of photos Peter owned anymore, a memory trapped in folds of his mind where the outlines of a person he once knew grew faded and worn.

He was alive - a little weird but also funny, surprisingly dorky and kind of annoying when he wanted to be. Sometimes he laughed at a joke so loud it echoed across the apartment and other times he'd nod and pat his back in silent acknowledgement.

He’d fall asleep into his cereal one morning but be up early cooking pancakes and eggs the next.

His actual bedroom was kind of a mess and he caught the man sleeping atop a pile of his own folded laundry more than once.

(and lets not even bring up his lack of boundaries when it came to belongings - for someone who was supposedly an only child, Dick was such a sharer)

Sometimes, looking at him was bittersweet too.

When the inevitable thought followed, that his dad - his real dad - had never had the chance to surpass what the world and Peter knew him to be.

That he never lived long enough for Peter to discover the human he was outside of fatherhood. Outside of the sacrifice he made for his family, for his legacy - for his son.

The realisation is fleeting and soon lost to the ebb and flow of his consciousness - but the weight of it lingers.

A thought that haunts him, in their stretches of silence.

—-

headcanons / thoughts I’ve had from my Peter in Gotham fic

G(a)linda 🫧

I needed this god bless

Damian: Richard I demand you read this book to me.

Dick: Aww Dam! Of course I will! Do you want me to do the voices?

Damian: If it brings you joy… I will allow you to do them.

Dick: Sure Dami I can do the voices!

Damian: …

Damian: Thank you Richard.

everyone remembers EXACTLY where they were when they read the first snippet of Mark of Athena at the end of SoN..Rick had me TWEAKING & locked inn

The wait between books back then…it wasn’t for the weak