#cave crocs

[2strangecrows]

behold: minecraft crocs if they were good

for the record, i have no affiliation with crocs or minecraft as companies. i just fucking hate the design of the minecraft crocs we got and said, "yeah i could do better"

[golvio]

I’ve seen plenty of art of a miniature version of the Light Dragon being silly, but not enough art of a tiny Demon Dragon being put into a bucket of Gloom for time out because he’s an ornery little bastard who won’t stop biting the other critters in his enclosure.

[ramenheim]

SO has taken to referring to running dwarf fortress (actually a shroom volcano fortress) passively while watching things on my laptop as "bringing over the antfarm" & telling me abt everything that happened in-game while I was asleep/at-work as "catching [me] up on the antfarm" which is just superbly charming.

We read a review that said "this game is a glue trap for autistic ppl" and the /EXPRESSION/ on SO's face of dawning realization was *mwah*. :'D

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Nature Conservation

Male Crocodile Hybrid Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, no pain, stalking, kidnapping, oviposition, non-human genitals, big slimy reptile dick, fucked senseless, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 550

(Y'all voted for crocodile man so y'all get crocodile man! Not beta read. Please forgive any mistakes.)

Wreck, the crocodile man, was massive. Large even for his species he was over 7ft. tall, and all muscle. His entire body was covered in thick scales, his fingers clawed and his back studded with sharp ridges.

And his long slimy cock, normally tucked away in his genital slit, was currently pounding away relentlessly into your shaking body.

Drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as you made a symphony of pleasured noises.

Wreck couldn't be happier. Your tight warmth felt just perfect around his large reptilian cock. You were made for him, he was convinced of it.

When he first saw you he was intrigued and watched you intently. You were a conservationist working to preserve the mangrove habitat that he called home.

Most humans he had to scare off, they came here drunk and got garbage everywhere. But not you. You did the opposite.

But you weren't stupid, you came with a group that you led to stay safe. Dangers lurked in these waters.

You noticed the croc man watching you and feared he may be hunting you. Which was true. He was hunting you. But not for a meal.

It took him a while to coax you into letting him get close to you. But Wreck was persistent.

It started by shouting conversations and curiously asking you questions followed by gratitude for your efforts to clean the environment. Soon he could sit by you and share food with you.

Wreck figured if he brought you some cooked food it would subconsciously make you aware that he was a capable provider. And it would also put you at ease because you could see he wasn't hungry and even had food to spare. So you would know he had no interest in harming a human for a meal.

He integrated himself into your group and helped you all gather garbage. He even posed for photographs that would be used to promote the work the group was doing.

Finally he got you alone. He clasped your mouth shut and dragged you into the water, swimming away with you to his cozy little cave before anyone noticed your absence.

Wreck wasted no time at all in removing your bothersome clothing and sliding his tapered dick right into you. It was so slimy that you didn't need any preparation and there was no pain, just a sudden fullness.

It had all happened so fast that you were stunned by confusion. One moment you were sitting at the water's edge beside Wreck and the next thing you knew you were being bred.

He put one of his hands at your hips and the other on your chest, claws raking carefully against your flesh but not breaking the skin.

You whimpered loudly as he fucked into you, and began moving back against him, desperate to have him even deeper.

His large body molded around yours as you both came hard.

You were panting, starting to realize what had just happened when, much to your surprise, the cock in you deposited a large egg inside you.

The day had started with dreams of cleaning up the environment for the animals and your crocodile friend. And now you were the environment for a crocodile egg.

And if Wreck had his way then this certainly wouldn't be the last one.

[theprongspotter]

Expect - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 3 - 343 words

Regulus blinks once. Twice. Then, he sighs and accepts that he’s not dreaming. His boyfriend is actually standing in front of him with what he believes is a terrible excuse of shoes.

“What? Don’t you like them?” James asks with a grin. He’s holding a pair of red Lightning McQueen crocs.

Regulus runs a hand through his hair, bewildered. “James,” he says slowly, trying to make sense of the scene before him.

“Yes, love?” He blinks innocently, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I sent you to the store for groceries.”

“Yeah, but look at these!” He waves the shoes—if you can even call them that—around with a proud puff-out of his chest. Honestly, what did Regulus expect?

Regulus frowns. “What about supper?”

“I can take you to that fancy restaurant you like so much.” James has turned back to the bag and pulls out another pair of crocs. No. Oh no.

“Look we’re matching!” James smiles even bigger as he now holds up a pair of blue Sally crocs in his other hand.

Regulus just stares at James for a minute, processing the ridiculousness of it all. Then he caves, and a smile grows on his face because his boyfriend saw fucking crocs and thought that they should match.

“I love them.”

At this, James sets the crocs down on the table and steps closer. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Regulus confirms, pulling his boyfriend down for a kiss.

When they pull apart, James begins to ask, “Can we—“

And even though Regulus really doesn’t want to wear crocs to a formal restaurant, but his boyfriend’s excitement is evident, so he nods. “Sure, Jamie, we can wear the crocs.”

James practically perks up at this and grins wide. “Yes! Thanks, babe!”

Regulus rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “Yeah, yeah. Now go get ready, I’m starving.”

James dashes off with a spring in his step, leaving Regulus to chuckle at the absurdity of it all. As he picks up the crocs, he marvels at how love can make even the most ridiculous things seem perfect.

[arminreindl]

Croc colours and patterns

Somewhat inspired by a recent post by Joschua Knüppe, I feel like it's a good thing to remind people just how diverse colours and patterns in modern crocodilians are. When I see people make art, it often seems to stick to grey or yellowish-brown tones, which is of course not incorrect. But theres a lot of, imo, underappreciated variety still. It's also worth noting beforehand that patterns are most striking in younger individuals and naturally become more muddy the older and larger an animal becomes. But as you will see, even some decently large and old animals may maintain a striking appearance.

Take this alligator for example. Gators tend to be on the darker side, dark greys to black, sometimes countershaded and sometimes pretty consistent. Some individuals, like this one photographed by Gar Luc, still retain clearly visible stripe patterns from when they are younger.

Or take one of my favourite species, the Cuban Crocodile, which can appear almost bright yellow with a dense pattern of leopard spots. Of course like with the gator you can find individuals that are much more drab, with washed out colours, but individuals with clearly defined patterns still exist.

Then there's gharials of course. They can range quite a bit in colouration. They can be brown, especially younger ones and females and I've seen males range in colour from a drab grey to almost a light blue or even something that could be described as metalic black.

Black Caimans are also pretty interesting in my opinion and pretty easy to tell apart from other species once you pay attention to their colour. They are primarily a deep dark black of course, but what sets them apart from spectacled and other caimans is that very fine pattern of thin white stripes across the flanks that creates this beautiful contrast. They can also have patches of brown like the one on the right.

Orinocos also vary a great deal. Tho I know less about them than I wish I did, I know that individuals can range from drab brownish greys to yellow to somewhat earthy browns that almost range into reds.

The next ones a bit of an outlier. There are specific cave dwelling dwarf crocodile populations in western Africa with striking orange colouration. Tho this one is not exactly natural pigmentation to my knowledge and instead the result of the chemicals present in the water they inhabit, brought there by bat guano. Still very pretty animals.

And then there's Paleosuchus, the dwarf caiman which contains two species. Again highly varied. The first image, which I believe is a Schneider's dwarf caiman, shows a very earthy brown. The others, which unless I'm mistaken are Cuvier's dwarf caimans, show colours ranging from dark with a rusty head, black to this still beautifully patterned individual. Of course these variations are also subject to change with age.

While salties aren't exactly known to be the most vibrant, I'd be remissed if I didn't mention this specific one. It's kept in a zoo in Germany and has this almost bizarre colour combination of creamy white underbelly and chocolate brown top which I've never seen in another saltwater crocodile. Photos by my friends Markus Bühler from the Bestiarium blog and René Dederich

Spectacled, Broad-snouted and Yacare caimans I'll give a quick shout out. I think most people are familiar enough with how they look like and while their colours aren't anything special, I still think one should appreciate their patterns of spots and stripes and facial markings.

The last one I wanna highlight is the false gharial, Tomistoma, another one of my favourites. Part of the reason why being its at times beautiful reddish-brown colours.

[deadsetobsessions]

AU of Gotham! Tim Drake! Danny where he doesn’t know the universe he was reincarnated into.

“Robin!” Batman barked. Tim sighed, loudly. Batman twitched.

“What is it, B?”

“Drills. Again.”

Tim rolled his eyes but moved to obey. Speaking to B these days was like speaking to a rather boorish caveman. Simple grunts and single word sentences. It didn't use to be like this but B was loosing his grip on his humanity and it’s Tim’s job to bring it back.

It’s hilarious because he’s the least human of them all. It was odd, juggling his duties as Danny Gotham, his responsibilities as Tim, and his workload as Bruce’s shiny new Robin. Somehow he made it work.

Yeah, sometimes B’s hands are heavy when they’re training. Sometimes he forgets Danny’s name (or at least his human name) and calls for Jason instead. Sometimes, he smells more like booze and less like Bruce.

Danny could handle it. Even if his core quivers with grief. He wished he didn’t have to, but he could and will handle whatever he needs to for his Knight to regain himself. But fuck, that doesn’t mean taking his self destructive habits lying down. He might be Tim right now, but as far as Batman knew, Tim was here on the orders of

“B.”

“Hm.”

Oh, a neutral grunt! I see we’ve upgraded to grunts instead of arm flapping! Holy detective, Batman! Aren’t I glad I learned to speak cave man? Wow! Tim mocked, in his head.

“You’re heading to bed when I’m done with this set,” Tim said.

“This case isn’t done,” Batman growled. Ancients, it was like speaking to a large chihuahua-toddler hybrid. All the barking, all the growling, and all the petulance of a child makes the entirety of how his Knight acted on a good day these days.

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Tim shot back, sore arms and legs and everything working through the set. Thank the ancients for his healing, or else Tim might actually be dying.

“You don’t give me orders, Robin.”

“No, but Gotham does.” He would know, considering Tim was Gotham.

The head full of greasy- ew, take a shower, B!- hair swiveled towards him.

“You have a direct line to Gotham?”

Tim settled into the final forms of the night. “Gotham sent me. I thought we went over this.”

A beat of silence.

Batman returned to clacking away at the computer. Tim finished his set in relative peace. He moved to the cool down stretches while Batman sulked in front of his computer like a five year old.

“I’m done.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Hm.”

“That means you’re done, too.”

“I’m not tired.”

Tim rolled his eyes so hard, he thinks he saw the light. Oh, wait, that’s just Bruce’s last brain cell dying.

“You’re heading to bed. Good luck finding actual crime tomorrow, if you stay up.”

Batman stilled, because he knows Gotham would back Tim up on the threat. Considering the time sensitivity of some of these cases, Gotham’s anger is not something he could risk.

Tim patted himself on the back for effectively playing the good cop and the bad cop on his own. Except ACAB for life because they’re vigilantes and the GCPD as a whole (with exceptions) sucks ass.

He watched as Batman- as Bruce- reluctantly powered down the Bat-Computer. As he stood up, Tim wrinkled his nose.

“Never mind. You take a shower first. I’ll text Alfred.”

“Not necessary.”

“Okay, then you can explain to Gotham why you’re traipsing through his city looking a starved rat and smelling like you took a joy ride in Killer Croc’s excrement. Oh, wait.” Tim snapped, just about done being patient today. Tim whipped out his phone, texting Alfred with one hand and pointing towards the staircase with the other.

“Shower above ground, you weird little mole rat. No cave water for you.”

Bruce makes a weird offended grunt.

“I literally don’t care if you have to walk up to your room to shower in your boxers, B. Most of Gotham’s people don’t have access to a shower, let alone a million dollar bathroom. Fucking use your actual bathroom instead of hosing off.”

And with that, Batman and Bruce Wayne moved to the tune of a pre-teen, who was also, unknowingly to him, the spirit of his City.

——

“Go home.”

Tim smiled sweetly. Bruce paled. The scary, Gotham loved child patted Bruce’s hand as he sat beside Bruce’s bed.

“Sleep, before I make you.”

Bruce slammed his eyelids shut, anything to not look at Tim’s malicious looking eyes, and allowed himself- nay, forced himself- to rest for the first time in weeks since Jason died.

As Bruce’s dumb self drifted off to dreamland, Tim muttered, “Wuss.”

He settled himself into the chair, napping lightly to make sure Bruce doesn’t sneak out to work when he’s gone.

Alfred snapped a quick picture.

[brucewaynehater101]

TW: mentions death, blood

Here is the angst some of you requested. Let me know if I need to add triggers

He isn't going to make it to eighteen. This is a fact. Tim knows, with certainty, that he isn't going to survive that long.

Being a vigilante means that Tim's life expectancy is drastically reduced. He went from possibly dying of old age as the CEO of Drake Industries to becoming a casualty of The Mission. Tim knows the odds. Dick surviving to adulthood is the outlier, not the standard.

So, Tim knows he is going to die within the next few years. Either his blood is going to stain his yellow cape, or Timothy Drake will meet his tragic end in Gotham's streets. This is indisputable.

He had assumed, though, that he would last at least a year as Robin.

He thought Bruce would've been safe.

Tim had spent so long cultivating his plans and carefully navigating his interactions with Bruce. He pushed and pulled Dick, Barbara, Alfred, and some JL members into Bruce's social support. He helped mend their issues, subtly insisted Bruce upgrades his communication skills, and paved the way for a stronger bond.

He denied invitations to spend the night at Wayne Manor, he feigned being full at requests for dinner, and had ducked away from hair ruffles and shoulder pats. He maintained a childlike gaze, a helpful countenance, and a polite business mask.

In the few months Tim has been Robin, he has worked tirelessly to ensure Bruce would have support when Tim inevitably died. He maintained their mutual professional distance to minimize the hurt his death would cause the Waynes. He had designed everything to his best abilities. Tim is going to die, but he would help Bruce before then.

Bruce wasn't supposed to die with him.

Batman and Robin were trapped in the sewers after a cave-in. Apparently, Killer Croc, wrestling, and unsteady foundations were a recipe for a severely concussed Bat and a definitely not panicking Bird.

It could be hours before the two were found deep beneath Gotham's surface. Hours of someone scouring their last known whereabouts for clues before traversing the maze the city uses for their sewage. It could be hours before anyone even noticed their disappearance. Between Bruce's distress signal being crushed in the fight, Tim's being lost in the scuffle, and them being miles underground, this significantly hindered their ability to call for aid.

It might take days before Batman and Robin are unearthed.

From the way the rubble occasionally groaned and trembled, they didn't have that.

Bruce is physically present, his head is cushioned on Tim's lap, but the man's eyes are foggy. He keeps drifting into unconscious before Robin wakes him up again. Each time the man's eyes flutter shut, Tim fears that would be the last time.

It's fine. Tim's okay. Overall, the kid only has bruises on his skin and a few shallow cuts. He might be panicking, but he's physically okay.

Bruce, on the other hand, has a head wound that's sluggishly bleeding into his eyes and dripping down his face. His ribs are cracked from when the man tried to protect Robin from the tunnel collapsing.

Tim can hardly keep his panic at bay when the man starts to doze again. His hand lightly pats Bruce's cheek as he begs the man to open his eyes.

"Hey, B. You're gonna be alright." Tim's voice trembles slightly, but Bruce is too out of it to notice. "It's not going to be much longer. You have to hold on."

Bruce closes his eyes again.

"Bruce. Keep your eyes open."

At the command, the man struggles to pry his eyelids apart. Glassy light blue eyes focus in Tim's general direction. There's an emotion of the man's face that the teen has never seen before.

"We could..." Bruce's voice strains with the effort to speak. Still, he continues to rasp out, "Tomorrow. We could go to the library."

Although it is idiotic to hope, a part of Tim becomes elated at those words. The entire time Tim's been Robin, Bruce has kept him at a distance. They were coworkers, and Tim was necessary, not wanted. The teen could handle curt responses, long silences, and hasty dismissals. At least the man was frank with his expectations and personal boundaries. He never gave false promises or a fake welcome. Bruce was honest with Tim.

If they made it out of there, the man would keep his promise. The two of them could spend time together as Bruce and Tim, not Batman and Robin.

A soft smile appears as Tim regards his mentor. "I'd like that, B."

Bruce's face becomes fond, and his hazy eyes peer up at Tim. "I am glad you're here with me, Jay."

Tim isn't Bruce's son. He isn't the boy whose ghost drapes itself over the shoulders of his grieving father. He isn't a brawler when he fights, and he prefers sci-fi over literary masterpieces.

Tim has two parents. They hardly answer the phone and are gone for months on end, but they exist. They love Tim, in their own distant way.

Tim knows his name is Timothy Jackson Drake and not Jason Peter Todd.

Yet, in the washed-out illumination of an emergency flashlight, the kid faintly beams at Bruce.

"I'll always be here, Dad."

[dickfuckk]

Everything we know about s2 so far (plot-ish)

Pearl necklace + important addition

Spanish Jackie fights with Blackbeard

Roach is in a dinghy with other characters at some point

Roach is having “the best day ever” and it’s very relaxing. He’s with someone else by a stream

Roach and Fang paint their faces white

Lesbian pirates (one of them is called Archie)

Blackbeard? Possibly makes Archie fight her gf to the death?

Izzy most likely loses his foot

Izzy gets better/redemption arc? (16:30 min)

A character calling himself Prince Ricky will meet Stede

Lucius is most likely alive and 100% in the season

They trained a rat (but might have cut that scene)

The Revenge will most likely burn or blow up [x] (+ so much more)

There’s a torturer and he’s going all in with the torture

Stede becomes a man (28 min.)

There’s going to be a wedding [x]

This is the groom so most likely not someone from the crew getting married

Red flag/Chinese pirate crew

"Swampy town folk"

There will most likely be a cave scene (+ much more)

They’re most likely filming in real water for some scenes

Hornigold

Lighthouse scene

Jim will most likely be making out with someone

Alex Sherman has a cameo in it

Tight pants

New costumes (8:30 min) [x] - Wee John's new costume in particular should be great (45:50 min)

"Cool guest stars" (and most likely a Prince soundtrack)

Jim is going to be wearing crocs

Goat [x]

Stormy weather and ep9 sky?

Rory might be there (just bc she's unsure if she's allowed to mention him lmao)

More action than season 1 (53 min) [x] [x] [x] (+ much more)

8 episodes in total

The "dudes" will be dressed up as the British and sing Rule Britannia in powdered wigs

Timeskip

And of course my season 2 crew list

[melkyt]

✨️Tarzan!LawLu au ✨️ (Dragodile, CrocoDad is a thing that is mentioned).

Luffy, the lost wild child of the jungle, raised by animals with no contact with the outside world.

Law as a historian and medic for an expedition run by Robin, when he gets a lead that he decides to follow up on and subsequently gets lost in the jungle, gets injured, and gets found by Luffy.

Luffy with long hair, no concept of human language, or even that there are others like him is immediately fascinated by Law, and his clothes xd

He takes Law, who is out of it due to his injury-induced fever and treats him to the best of his ability. Luffy has the basic knowledge of plants that treat most things thanks to the other animals.

It is too safe when Law is lucid, he has so many questions and also needs to find a way back to civilization. Finds out Luffy also knows about a ruin based on the trinkets and treasures he has around his nest/home, and most importantly the cloud necklace he is wearing. It is what they are looking for and decide that they need Luffy to find it.

Bonus points if Crocodile is the one funding/running the expedition and has a lot of money on the line with this discovery.

Luffy eventually gets Law back to civilization and well, Crocodile is there and he recognizes the cloud Luffy wears.

This leads to our fave wild child boi being captured and put in a cage, as he refuses to cooperate in a civil way, and puts more than one guy into the hospital until Crocodile subdues him.

Law argues this is inhumane, he is a doctor and the man needs treatment, not a cage.

Crocodile answers that he will let the brat go as long as he shows them the ruins, dangling the necklace in front of Luffy's cage.

Luffy gets what the man wants and refuses, he ain't going to do shit any human tells him, they hurt his friends. He has seen Croc and his men shoot more than one. So he stays silent. No matter how much they torture him.

That is until Crocodile notices how Luffy responds to Law, that they even found a language they can communicate on some level. So he makes a threat to hurt Law with clear intent that would be obvious to anyone.

Luffy growls and gives in with a nod. He will show them. They put him in chains and makes Law come with them to keep Luffy in line. The way to the ruins is past his nest, that he has called his home since he was lost.

The men start going through it. Luffy tries to fight them for disturbing it. They set it on fire, and Luffy runs in to grab the one thing he has from his life before the animals find him. It is a baby blanket, he gets burned in the process. Law takes this chance to overpower the guards and they run away. Luffy does not manage to get the blanket but it is saved from the fire by Crocodile who was trying to catch Luffy.

And he recognizes it as the blanket of someone he lost a long time ago, a loss that ended any hope of ever having a relationship again. It can't be the same child, not after all these years. He has been exploring this island/area for over a decade and never a sign?

LawLu meanwhile escape through the jungle. Luffy leads him to the ruins which is quite a climb through an overgrown area, then past a waterfall and a cave passage covered in vines. It is not surprising it was never found.

They heal up and relax. Obligatory bathing in a crystal lake scene where Law has a crisis over Luffy's muscles xd.

Luffy is determined to go back and fck up Crocodile for hurting Law and burning his home. Law tries to convince him that it's not worth it.

Crocodile finds a way to track Luffy through the winding Jungle, he comes alone. If this is his son, he has to know.

Drama, a confrontation. Luffy almost dies when they tussle and he falls off a cliff. The panic, terror. Law looking for a way to scramble down, getting a little bit banged in the process. Law being bloody and exhausted, focusing on nothing but Luffy's treatment.

Crocodile forgetting all about the ruins, for now. This is his son, he recognizes a scar or a birthmark that Luffy has, something distinct.

Law manages to stabilize Luffy. They carry him to an area where they can get helicoptered out. They go to some big hospital.

There is a lot of legal nonsense. Dragon shows up and wants to take guardianship immediately, arguing with Croc.

Law pulls some strings as quite the prominent doctor and gets Luffy signed into existence under his protection, not trusting the two people who lost him in the first place.

Robin while nobody is paying attention to her, registers the ruins and surrounding area as a historical site and an animal sanctuary, making it impossible or very unprofitable to loot it. It's on the radar now. Crocodile can't touch it even if he wanted to. Though he has bigger things on his mind.

Law is there as Luffy starts to get the basic idea of human society, but never loses that feral streak. They settle down in a home on the edge of the village, with Law studying the history of the ruins and working as a local doctor while Luffy takes care of the animals and leads tours through the woods, preferring being out in the wild over civilization but he always comes home to Law.

[zolawffy]

Map of the Palace/Ship! (Masterlist)

Last Updated - February 22

what room would you like to visit?

🛋️ Living room, Please! (Various Headcannons)

Walk em like a dog OR walking like a dog??

Wearing revealing clothes in public W/ your favs.

Where those hands going? - (Nsfw)

Forgiven.

What they would say to their Bratty girlfriend.

Their reaction to you sucking on a popsicle.

Calling them out their name - (Headcannons)

What you call them vs what they call you (Headcannons, List)

💪 ASL Brother's Room - (Anything with the three brothers)

Rodeo - Cowboy Brothers. (Headcannons)

🦩 Doflamingo's Massive Bedroom. - (Anything Doflamingo Specific)

10 reasons why people fawn over Doflamingo. - (list)

🗡️ Law Trafalgar's Tidy bedroom. - (anything Law Specific)

Facetime with your boyfriend Law Part 1 - (fluff, Story)

Facetime with your boyfriend Law Part 2 (coming soon)

A Law Imagine - (Smut, With visual)

Law and His black girlfriend

🐊 Sir Crocodile's Very expensive Office and Bedroom.

Thunder (Fluff story)

Croc and His Black GF!

🌸 Nico Robin's tidy bedroom

Wearing her clothes. - (Smut)

Nico robin and her girlfriend - (Headcannons)

❤️ Luffy's Obviously messy room.

- Luffy being silly and not serious about wedding attire. - (Messages)

Luffy's Prettygirl (Smut)

🍾 Man Cave - (Anything MULTI Law, Zoro, Luffy, Eustass)

Sex with law and luffy ft their hats. - (smut)

Oh My Endurance?? - (Nsfw, Headcannons)

Porgas D. ace’s backstage room..

Backstage - part 1 (New)

Shipdeck (OPLA FICS)

Coming soon

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Random infodump time!!

(This was/is a plot for the ROTTMNT: UnPaused series I wanted to do)

This plot is called “The Tiniest Treasure”

Raph meets Leo in the living room and the two read a report on a missing crocodile search that has been pending for a year now, and how the croc may be in the NYC sewers. Leo jokes on how crocodiles always seem to disappear in the sewers in TV shows. Raph mentions that he was trying to find Mikey before coming in, and Leo informs him that Mikey is “at home”. Raph is confused until he realizes that Leo means Mikey is at the old lair.

Mikey goes back to the old lair to copy down his wall graffiti, but also mourns the loss of his old beloved home and the fact that he never recovered his drawing for Karai. A small cave-in occurs, and Mikey falls into the hole, deeper into the sewers and getting knocked unconscious in the process. When he wakes up, Mikey discovers that he is under the protection of a new mutant called Leatherhead, a giant crocodile. He offers to take Mikey back to his home in the sewers to await rescue from his brothers. Leatherhead recognizes Mikey, though he calls him “Orange one”.

On the way to his lair, Leatherhead explains his backstory. Though he doesn’t explain it very well, through flashbacks the audience can see that he was a test subject in UTROM labs, where they were experimenting with the ooze extracted from oozesquitos. After being genetically enhanced beforehand and then injected with the ooze, Leatherhead escaped through the piping and was flushed down into the sewers. Leatherhead shows Mikey his home and offers to show him his treasures, which firstly includes missing Sheldon wreckage. Mikey asks to see more, explaining that Leatherhead’s treasures are mementos from his family. Leatherhead brings the broken remains of the turtles’ older weapons, and finally shows Mikey his “tiniest treasure”, which is the drawing made for Karai. Leatherhead explains that the drawing is special because it serves as a reminder that even in pain, there is beauty and hope for happiness. Leatherhead gives the drawing back to Mikey, saying he needs it more than him. Mikey’s family finds him and rescues him, thanking Leatherhead for his help and offering a way to find him a better home. Leatherhead declines, saying he likes his sewers, but will come to visit Mikey again.

[phoenixcatch7]

Bunch of dc story ideas because I keep forgetting to write them down and they're not fully fleshed out anyway:

Captain marvel gets 'deaged', either through klarion or something he ran into doing duty around the Rock, and flees to the first safe place he can think of - the watchtower. Unfortunately, Billy assumed the curse would simply revert him to his mortal form, or close enough... But the champion of magic form turns out to have been a disguise in more ways than one, because this new body most certainly isn't human.

Similarly, cap gets deaged to Billy's age, but he's still... The champion of magic form. Now Billy batson has full access to his full set of powers and skills, but in his mortal shape. This is going to really help his secret identity :'). Especially because the villains KEEP ATTACKING PEOPLE PLEASE KNOCK IT OFF.

Meta!Batman. His rare power transformed him into a monster on the scale of killer Croc or man bat, and also enabled him to turn into a human. A completely normal. Baseline human. It's infuriating that a normal person has to worry about meta blockers or inhibitor cuffs, especially after his (slightly fudged to keep the traffickers out) statistical announcement of 'no metas in Gotham' got presumed to be a demand, because he had to call in the league to help with a fighting ring and now he's hiding in a dark room while superman tries to coax him out. Man bat already stole the niche, it's just embarrassing.

Possessed doll au! When an 8yo Bruce falls into a cave under his house, he had nightmares about tea parties and flapping wings and wooden limbs for years. Nearly a decade later, he returned to find a sprawling system of tunnels and cracks, through one of which lies an abandoned, life sized marionette tea party, with empty porcelain tea cups and old, outdated gowns. The torch lights upon the doll at the head of the table, a tall, imposing man with chipped paint, dressed all in black, his joints rusted and head lolling. Bats screech from the darkness as he approaches, and when he touches its hand the world goes black. It's terrifying to wake up in a body of wood, hearing it creak and twist, hearing it scream as he cries. He wakes up back in his own body, sprawled on the floor, and runs. He's back down in a few months, this time bound and determined to figure it out. It turns out whatever it is, it has no malice. Indeed it makes for a wonderful, powerful body once he's cleaned it up, able to move and bend in ways no human could. He can hollow it out carefully and fill it with whatever items he might need. A body that doesn't need to breathe or eat, one that can take a beating, night after night. It takes him a long time to wonder why the dolls have precisely as many people as the manor eventually does. In the meantime the people of Gotham are 90% sure their protectors aren't human. And the jl is terrified of the cave. (cryptid, cave is haunted au?)

Venom!dp x dc twin au. Danyal and Damian were the league famous demon twins, the dual gems in its crown, until Danyal is killed. Raas, furious and refusing to lose his other grandchild, starts pushing Damian harder and harder while his brother is taken to the pit as a last resort. To the adults' knowledge, it didn't work. Danny's body dissolved in the acidic waters. To Damian's knowledge, his brother returned as a desperate, animalistic thing one night, seeping through the cracks of his room. Refusing to let his brother go again, Damian demands they be reunited as one, and Danny fuses with his very skin. Once his mind returns, Danny returns the sentiment, both deeply terrified of being pulled apart again. They communicate through reflections and whispers, sharing control of the body by transforming between human and ghost, sharing powers and instincts equally. When they're sent to Wayne manor, they're restless and defensive. They have each other, no one else can discover Danny, no one else can separate them again. Their father must never find out.

Thanagerian!Danny. He's a couple generations removed on his mother's side, so he doesn't even realise until his ghost form appears with two gorgeous wings. It really adds to the psychopomp symbolism, at least? He has a lot of questions when he meets the justice league. No wonder vlad never successfully managed to clone him!

Shapeshifter captain marvel. Please. He's apprenticing under tawky ^^

[makethatelevenrings]

Misery Loves Company // B. Wayne x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: mentions of menstruation

Summary: You have a sinus infection, period cramps, and it’s hot as balls. Bruce is a good husband.

“I think I’m dying.”

Alfred tutted over you as you glared at the screen in front of you. Your eyes narrowed as you watched the camera from Bruce’s cowl rattle at bit when Killer Croc got in an easy hit. 

“I assure you, Mistress Wayne, that you are not dying. It’s just a small sinus infection.”

“Oh yeah, you call it small when you’re blowing out of one working nostril.” You scowled, your hands bumping into various buttons on the keys as you waved your hands, and then remembered who you were talking to. “Sorry, Alfred, I just feel miserable.”

“Quite alright, Miss. Master Tim has said far worse when I gave him his last flu shot.”

“That’s because Timmy is a wimp when it comes to needles,” Dick said over the comms.

“Names,” you and Bruce intoned at the same time.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I had the comms on,” you explained. “My brain is a mess today.”

Alfred cleared his throat and you avoided his gaze. You knew he wanted you to admit you were sick, but there was no way in hell. How could you complain about a little headache and period cramps when they were getting shot at and blown up? You especially couldn’t make them worry, namely your husband, when they needed to focus.

“I do remind you, miss, that I handled running the computers when Master Bruce first conceived this hairbrained idea,” Alfred said. “And it appears that you have the same propensity as Master Bruce as not understanding the need to rest.”

Your eyes narrowed and you slowly turned your chair to face him. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Either get upstairs and into bed or I shall tell Master Bruce.”

“You’re an evil, evil man.”

Deciding rest didn’t sound like a terrible option, you dragged yourself upstairs to the bedroom you shared with Gotham’s resident vigilante. It was summer and living in a city built on a swamp and next to the ocean meant that humidity and heat clung to the air like a bad smell. You grunted once you left the cool air of the cave and into the damp atmosphere of the manor.

You were hot, your face felt more stuffed than a turkey on Thanksgiving day, and your uterus was trying to murder you.

Fuck this day.

After changing into pajamas, too tired to even bother with skincare, you laid on your side of the bed and realized that no sleep would be happening tonight. How the fuck were you able to sleep when one half of your face felt like it was packed full of cotton, your back ached from cramps, and the sheets plastered itself against you and clung to your skin in a way that overstimulated you?

This was the worst. Sitting up helped your sinus infection, but aggravated your back. Sweat dripped down your skin and you let out a pitiful whine. God, this sucked. Everything sucked.

You punched the pillow underneath your head in an attempt to make it more comfortable and then flipped it over to sink your cheek into the cooler side of the silken fabric. Your hand reached out and snatched up Bruce’s pillow, which you drew into your chest and cuddled. Even if it was hot, you would do anything to have your husband next to you right now, calloused hands rubbing into the sore muscles of your back. With his low, soothing voice and magic touch, you could be asleep in minutes.

Ah, shit. Here comes the water works. You pressed your face into the soft fabric of his pillow and immediately regretted it as the fabric dampened, saturating the scent of his cologne and body wash with the saltiness of your tears. You needed to get your shit together. What if someone came home injured today? They would need you to have your head on straight.

“Darling?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Bruce’s voice. When had he opened the door and walked in? Swiping the back of your hand across your cheeks, you sat up and quickly looked him over. No visible injuries.

“What happened? Why aren’t you on patrol?”

His large, calloused palm came up to cradle your jaw and you sank into the delicate yet strong touch he offered. Your eyes slid shut as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Alfred called me back in. Sorry, I’m a bit late. I swung by Leslie’s and picked up an antibiotic that will fix that sinus infection and then I had to run to CVS to get some things.”

You paused, your eyelids cracking open so you could stare up at him. “In the suit?”

If you didn’t know Bruce, you wouldn’t have picked up on the tiny twitch of his lips. “Maybe.”

The visual image was striking. Batman standing in line at CVS with a basket clenched in one of his leather gloves, filled with pads, snacks, and medicine. You could only picture the look on the cashier’s face as he swiped a box of tampons over the laser. Bruce liked to keep the house stocked at all times thanks to three women living there permanently and numerous others trickling in on the daily.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

He stooped down and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you as easily as you picked up Alfred the cat everyday to deposit kisses on the cat’s head. Your husband’s strength always surprised you, even after being with him for years.

“I did. You deserve it. Lukewarm shower and I’ll set up the netti pot. Leslie said you take the antibiotics twice a day for eight days. The whole time. No skimping. Take all sixteen.”

“I’m not an idiot,” you snorted. “I know how antibiotic resistance works.”

“I forget sometimes that I’m not dealing with the average human population.”

“Let me guess, someone else tried to take a selfie with Killer Croc tonight.”

“Had a selfie stick and everything.”

You snickered and settled in against his chest. You still felt like shit, but with Bruce here, it was starting to get better. Maybe you could convince him to give you that massage after your shower…

Tag List: @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @alexxavicry​ @havingarebelliousstage​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @cursedandromedablack​ 

[necrotic-nephilim]

For the new ask game

"If I have to force you I will"

Brudick

send a ship and a quote and i'll write a a short fic!

this is so inspired, anon. here's 2.7k of BruDick whump. warning for non-con somnophilia, but it's very brief. the whole fic is very non-con/dead dove in nature tho. this takes place during Jason's Robin era. enjoy <3

Dick could feel Bruce’s eyes on him from across the room, even without looking. He made a point not to look. Instead, Dick focused on helping Jason set his dislocated shoulder.

“How does that feel?” Dick asked. He pressed his fingers against the bone, just to double check for any breaks.

“I’m fine,” Jason insisted. He hopped off the medical gurney and pulled away from Dick’s touch. An immediate wince came out of Jason when his feet hit the ground. His ankle was at best, swollen. At worst, sprained.

With how hard Killer Croc threw Jason into that brick wall, he was lucky to walk away with a dislocated shoulder and sprained ankle. Dick still couldn’t get the noise of Jason’s small body slamming against the hard brick and the noise he’d made when he fell to the ground.

“You should take a couple weeks off patrol at least,” Dick said, putting away the leftover bandages. “To let it heal.”

Jason made a face at Dick, his mouth screwing up like he’d eaten something sour. “I said I was fine!” He didn't look fine. He was pale and a little sweaty from the pain. “Right, B?” Going right above Dick's head, Jason turned to Bruce with an expectant look.

Dick finally let himself look at Bruce. He levelled Bruce with a deadly glare. Now though, Bruce was the one avoiding his gaze.

“We’ll talk about it later, chum.” Bruce walked over to them and ruffled Jason’s head with disgusting affection that made Dick’s lip curl.

He had nothing against Jason. But he damn well knew Bruce was doing it to get a rise out of Dick. The worst part, it was working remarkably well.

“Get to bed now,” Bruce said, patting Jason’s good shoulder.

Jason gave a nod that was a little too serious, like he was facing a war general giving an order. Given who he was talking to, Dick supposed it wasn't far off. Jason ran off to the stairs, almost managing to hide his limp. Dick watched him disappear up the steps.

He was a good kid.

Too good for this life.

“That could've gotten him killed.” Dick didn't look in Bruce’s direction, but there was no one else in the cave he could've been talking to. No one else on the planet Dick would speak to with such an icy tone.

“You would've stuck that landing at his age,” Bruce said coolly, pointedly avoiding the hostility bleeding from Dick.

Dick whipped his head around. “I had more training at his age.” So many insults sat on Dick’s tongue. He managed to swallow all of them without choking. “Take better care of Jason.” With that, Dick turned on his heel and walked toward where his motorcycle was parked in the bay of the cave.

“Where are you going?” Bruce asked. Like he had any right to know.

“Home,” Dick snapped. He wanted his bed and shitty take out from the only place in Bludhaven open this late.

“This is your home.”

Dick’s hand curled into a fist, itching to hit Bruce. He wouldn't stoop that low. “Not since you kicked me out, it isn't.”

“You still have a place here.” Bruce’s voice was as even and emotionless as it always was. He could've been talking about the weather.

Emotions were weakness to Bruce. And there was a time Dick naively believed Bruce trusted him enough to share that weakness with Dick.

What a joke that was.

“No, I don't,” Dick spoke through grit teeth. He just needed to keep walking to his bike and leave Bruce and his rotting city behind.

“Then why are you even here?”

Dick spun around fast enough to make his hair fall over his face. He really should cut it, but he liked the length. Bruce had always made him keep it short. For practicality. Now, letting it grow just past his shoulders, Dick’s hair was one of the few pieces of self expression he had.

“Because I made a promise to Jason,” Dick’s words dripped with all the anger he could muster, looking into Bruce’s cold blue eyes. “I would be there if he called. Unlike you, I keep promises.” It was a cold insult that hit below the belt.

“You think I couldn't have handled Croc?” Bruce arched an eyebrow. He was trying to back Dick into a corner and Dick knew it. Drag some kind of confession out of Dick that he'd come to see Bruce for some hopeless romantic reason.

Bruce could keep hoping. Dick was there for Jason and nothing more.

“Clearly you couldn't,” Dick pointed out. “Jason got hurt.”

For the briefest second, real emotion flashed across Bruce's eyes. It was something, at least. A small proof he really did care about Jason.

“He just wanted to see you.” Bruce regained his composure. “He looks up to you. He's been talking about training with you.”

Dick shook his head with a cold laugh. “I’m not falling for that. If he wants to train, he can come to me. Don't use him to get to me.” He gave Bruce a final warning look before turning back around.

“Stay.”

“No.” Dick didn't look back. His bike was within arm’s reach when a hand grabbed his arm.

“Dick,” Bruce was trying to sound soft. The command in his voice ruined the illusion of kindness.

“Don’t.” No matter how much Dick knew Bruce’s kindness was a ruse, he couldn't stop himself from mirroring it. The anger left his tone and was replaced by something softer. “It’s late and I have a shift tomorrow.”

“Call in,” Bruce said. Easy for him to say with his billionaire pockets.

Dick shook his head. He tried to pull his arm free. “This isn't happening again. It's especially not happening now.” Jason’s face flashed across Dick’s mind. In Dick’s Robin suit.

That betrayal was still a raw wound.

“Dick, I…” Bruce trailed off. “I'm sorry for how I- for how things happened.” Just as he almost took accountability, he skirted past it. A vague, half-assed apology that wasn't going to fix anything now.

“You should've said that and a hell of a lot more over a year ago,” Dick just shook his head. He tugged his arm harder. Bruce’s grip was a vice.

“Please stay.” Despite the words, it sounded like an order, not a request. Bruce’s brow hardened.

“Bruce,” Dick said, setting his jaw. “Let go.”

Bruce raised a hand and for a second, Dick almost flinched, expecting to be hit. Instead, Bruce's fingers hovered in the air before cupping Dick’s face. He was still wearing his suit, but Dick could feel the gentle body heat through the glove. He gasped.

A thumb stroked Dick’s cheek. And for a part of him, it was hard not to give in to. There was comfort in the familiarity. How easily Bruce slotted back into a role he used to perfectly fill in Dick’s life.

Dick didn't need Bruce in that role, though. And he definitely didn't want him there.

“Just the night,” Bruce offered, still stroking with his thumb. “I’ll order from the Chinese place you like.”

“I said no.” Dick took a half a step back.

The gentle, loving hand holding Dick’s face shifted to a brutally possessive grip without warning. Bruce held Dick by his jaw, fingers digging in enough to make Dick hiss.

“If I have to force, you I will.” It was dangerous, how matter-of-factly Bruce said it. No violence or threatening nature to the statement. Just a plain coldness.

Dick flinched. His full body recoiled.

“Are you out of your mind?” Dick hissed.

Bruce has been rough with Dick, before. But only when Dick asked for it.

Never like this.

The only thing Bruce had ever forced Dick to do was leave. At the time, it had been the worst thing Bruce ever did to Dick.

This was worse, now.

“You can't force me to do anything,” Dick said when Bruce didn't answer. He just started at Dick with those empty eyes. “I’m not under your thumb anymore.”

“I want to know you're safe,” Bruce spoke so calmly, like he wasn't trying to force Dick to stay against his will. Like he was practically doing Dick a favor. “Someone needs to look out for you and make sure you're taking care of yourself.”

“I have people,” Dick said, and it wasn't a lie. He had the Titans, his friends and coworkers in Bludhaven. “I don't need you. I never did, Bruce. You never understood that.” Dick’s heart was beating too fast in his chest. Bruce had to be bluffing. Trying to fake Dick out or something.

The grip on his jaw was going to bruise if Bruce kept it up.

“I need you, though,” Bruce’s voice was low and quiet. “That's what I was wrong about when I kicked you out. I thought…” he didn't finish the sentence. He just shook his head once. “I didn't know how much I needed you. And I need you now, Dick.”

Dick leaned in close to Bruce’s face. “I don't care what you need.” He pulled back and twisted his head away to wrench it from Bruce’s grip. A single well aimed strike to Bruce’s inner wrist forced his hand to open, letting go of Dick’s arm.

For a second, Dick was free.

It was a short second.

Dick didn't have time to step back. He didn't have time to think before Bruce lunged.

It was a brutal and effective pin. One that Dick had always struggled to get out of during training. Bruce grabbed Dick’s wrist and twisted him around, forcing him to his knees. Bruce’s own knee pinned Dick down, pressed between his shoulder blades while Dick’s arm was held at a painful angle.

He had one arm free. But it was difficult to grab Bruce from where he was standing. The shock of being pinned in the first place slowed his reaction.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Dick gasped. He reached back to grab an escrima stick. If Bruce wanted a fight, Dick would give him one.

His hand was stopped before he could reach the weapon. Bruce just grabbed that wrist too and hauled Dick back up to his feet like he weighed nothing. He pinned Dick against his own body, Dick’s arm painfully trapped between the two of them.

“I’m giving you one last chance,” Bruce said into Dick’s ear. His breath was warm on Dick’s skin in a sickly way. “Stay with me for the night.”

Instead of answering with words, Dick lifted his foot and kicked Bruce as hard as he could in the shin. Bruce stumbled and Dick dropped into a crouch, ready to flip Bruce off of him.

Before he could, something sharp pinched against his neck and Dick gasped.

The psychotic bastard.

His body slumped, weightless in Bruce’s arms that shifted to cradle Dick. Gently, like a lover.

Then, Dick slipped away.

Once he was drugged, it was easy to pull compliance out of Dick.

Bruce just had to carry him up the stairs and into Bruce’s bedroom. He carefully stripped both of their suits, laying them out for Alfred to wash in the morning.

Dick wasn't quite unconscious.

But he was groaning and sluggish, unable to hold his eyes open or form real words. When Bruce touched him, his body yielded and gave in so sweetly.

The way he was supposed to give in to Bruce.

Dick wouldn't remember any of it when it woke up. But his body would.

His body, warm and beautiful under Bruce’s hands. There were new scars Bruce didn't know about. He made sure to show attention to every one with gentle kisses and colorful hickeys.

But he felt the same when Bruce was buried inside of his right warmth.

Even in a drugged state, Dick reacted beautifully. Soft moans and twitches as Bruce fucked him. Slow and gentle. It was so easy to manipulate Dick’s body into the right positions. He was just as flexible as he’d always been.

Bruce liked the long hair, he decided, when he buried his fingers into it to pull Dick into an embrace while Dick whimpered.

Beautiful. Perfect.

With a hand curled around Dick’s cock, they both came as Bruce groaned Dick’s name into his sweet skin.

Bruce licked Dick’s cum off his sweaty skin. Glassy eyes watched him, struggling to say something. It almost sounded like Bruce’s name.

After finishing, Bruce cleaned both of them up and climbed into bed, arranging Dick in his arms the way they used to cuddle in bed. He closed his eyes.

Dick was home now. Where he belonged. Bruce was stupid for ever sending him away. But he was home. That was what mattered.

They would figure out the rest later.

Dick came back to awareness in a warm bed with a sore body. The sheets and pillows were familiar. They smelled familiar. His body ached in familiar places too.

Before Dick even opened his eyes, he knew where he was.

He sat up. His body was still slow and stiff. Whatever Bruce had drugged him with was a hell of a thing.

Bruce drugged him. And fucked him.

Too many feelings flickered through Dick at once for him to parse out. Anger. Confusion. Shock.

Betrayal.

Dick tuned them out. He needed to take stock. Stay focused. At least until he was out of Bruce’s home.

The sunlight filtering through the windows marked the time as late morning. Bruce’s side of the bed was empty, but Dick could hear the shower running from the ensuite bathroom.

His suit was nowhere to be found. Which left Dick stuck in Bruce’s bed, naked and vulnerable.

He tried to keep his heartrate steady. The sheets got bunched up in Dick’s first.

The moment Bruce came out of the shower Dick was going to break his goddamn-

“Bruce!” The bedroom door flew open and Jason skidded into the room. “Bruce, Alfred wants to know where he should put-” Jason froze like a deer in headlights when he saw Dick. For a moment he just stared, wide eyed and open mouthed.

Dick look down at himself and swore. He snatched the blanket that was pooled around his waist, pulling it up tight to his chest. It was too late. They both knew Jason had already seen all the bite marks scattered across Dick’s skin.

“I-” Jason stumbled over his words. “I’m sorry, I didn't know-”

Like some kind of divine timing, the bathroom door opened. Bruce stepped out in nothing but loose boxers, drying his hair. He saw Dick, then Jason. His expression changed for both of them, settling on a coy smile.

“We’ve talked about knocking, Jason,” Bruce said calmly.

Jason’s face was so red it looked like it was about to catch on fire. “Sorry.”

“Head down to the kitchen for breakfast,” Bruce just gave him a fond look. “Dick and I will join you in a few minutes.”

“You’re staying for breakfast?” Jason’s eyes lit up looking at Dick.

Dick couldn't openly scowl at Bruce with Jason’s eyes on him. But he knew what Bruce was doing. And he had no choice, backed into a corner like this.

“Yeah.” Dick forced a smile. “Just for a little while.”

Jason whooped with excitement and ran out of the room as quickly as he’d came into it.

Dick whipped his head around and leveled Bruce with a deadly look.

“After breakfast,” Bruce said, before Dick can speak. “We’ll discuss this then.”

“You had no goddamn right-”

Bruce cut him off with a chaste kiss. Dick choked against Bruce’s mouth. All of his protests forced away. Dick’s heart was pounding. Too many emotions at once.

He swallowed his pride and kissed Bruce back.

[creativity-deficient]

Random Tweek Tweak hcs bc im thinking bout him yet again :)))

-Has an undiagnosed anxiety disorder, made worse by the increased use of Methamphetamine over the years and mistaken for adhd (canon/implied canon). He is also on the autism spectrum and has OCD

-Has mild Seborrheic dermatitis, a skin condition that causes red and flaky patches of skin and usually flares up due to stress. It starts mainly on his head/under his hair as a kid but worsens in his teens years. Also has dermatillomania (a skin picking disorder), as well. Both of these become a lot worse in his teen years, but do become a lot more manageable for him as an adult. Still however, he does have some faint scars from all the picking and scratching over the years.

-Small tubby lil guy :) (sorta?? implied canon??), below average in height and considerably pudgy compared to most of his peers (genetics/stress eating). Loses a lot of this weight in his teen years due to health issues, but does gain a lot of it back as an adult. Also has a pudgy baby face that he never quite grows out of, even as an adult.

-His eyes a blue hazel, a rare eye color

-Sometimes snaps and hums to calm himself down.

-Enjoys baking as a casual hobby, though he’s still an amateur and doesn’t know how to make much. (implied canon)

-Once joined every school club because he had an anxiety attack and couldn’t decide what to pick

-Habitual nail chewer, again something he usually does due to stress. Nails are very short and stubby because of this

-Bandages on his fingers due to burns, skin picking, and nail biting

-Chronic ice-chewer

-Never learns to tie his shoes. Kept tripping over his laces before finally taking them out. Untied laces to laceless shoes to crocs to socks with sandals to velcro shoes pipeline

-Also never learns to drive, too much stress. Forever in his passenger princess era ✨

-Lowkey a backseat driver, though not in a “know it all” type of way. He mostly just freaks out the entire time.

-Can not sleep in the car because he’s afraid the second he closes his eyes, they’ll crash.

-Doesn’t know much slang/internet lingo and has absolutely no idea what his peers are talking about half the time (pretends he does and usually just ends up looking stupid 😔)

-Has a fear of rubberhose cartoons, as well as those weird old stop motion Christmas movies (he just finds them unsettling)

-Told about the secret family recipe as a teenager by his father, and is reasonably freaked out about it. Is forced to keep his mouth shut about it and suffers through major withdrawals before his parents are eventually exposed and arrested for the distribution of meth/counts of child abuse. Spends most of his high school years in therapy and rehab, though it’s all made easier with Craig by his side

-He and Craig try breaking up their freshman year of high school, both of them feeling like they need to try new things for a bit. It lasts about a week before they get back together.

-TERRIFIED of scissors and refuses to let anyone come near him with them. Grows his hair out long as a teenager before finally caving in and shaving it off as a young adult. He now keeps it managed, but Craig is the only person he trusts to do so.

-Did once try to cut his own hair in middle school though, and he spent weeks looking like a train-wreck before finally letting his mom fix it.

-His relationship with his mom is considerably better than his relationship with his father, and though he never quite forgives her for what she’s done, the two of them are able to reach some sort of closure with each other in Tweek’s older age