#grand mogul

[ducktoonsfanart]

Junior Woodchucks and Chickadees - Kids scouts group - Duckverse

This is also my gift to my friend from Instagram and Deviantart, but I also drew this for Scouts Day, which is celebrated on February 22nd. Robert Baden-Powell, 1st Baron Baden-Powell, was born on that day in 1857, who was also the founder of scouts (the first scout camp was Brownsea Island Scout camp) in 1907. On the same day, his wife Olave Baden-Powell was born, but in 1889, she too was credited with founding the Girl Scouts, just as Robert Baden-Powell was credited with founding the Boy Scouts. While the whole world celebrates the Scout Day on February 22, in America it is celebrated on February 8. Yes, those scout groups of either boys or girls help to improve their knowledge and skills and to get along better in nature and not be at home all the time in a closed space. Those scouting organizations are still active today.

Yes, I drew Donald's nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie together as the Junior Woodchucks, in which they are much more disciplined than before, and there is Gyro's nephew, Newton who is also a member of the Junior Woodchucks. There is also Sonny Seagull (Garvey Gull), who, although not a member of the Junior Woodchucks, is still best friends with Donald's nephews, so he is often with them. Unfortunately, he is an orphan. Incidentally, it is also the anniversary of the comic "Operation St. Bernard" published in February 1951 and written and drawn by Carl Barks and that comic was the beginning of Junior Woodchucks. Besides them, there are also Daisy's nieces, April, May and June (version from the Dutch comics), but as the Littlest Chickadees, a girl scout group and dressed in uniform. There is also Bertie McGoose or Grand Mogul, the leader of the Junior Woodchucks, also one of Donald Duck's best friends from childhood. And there are their parents, Aunt Daisy, Uncle Donald and Uncle Gyro Gearloose from Little Helper, watching their kids have fun and socializing while in scout groups. I mostly drew by combining styles from European comics. And yes, Huey holds the Junior Woodchucks Guidebook, which contains all the important information and is a veritable encyclopedia for young curiosities.

I hope you like this drawing and sorry for some mistakes I made. Feel free to like and reblog this, just don't copy or use my same ideas without crediting me! Thank you! And once again, Happy Girl and Boy Scout Day!

[ducklooney]

Collage of my drawings related to Gyro Gearloose-Happy 70th birthday to you, Gyro!

By the way, I will mostly post it on my blog, where you can follow the publication of my drawings, although I will sometimes publish it on my main blog. Here is the link: https://ducktoonsfanart.tumblr.com/

Although I have already done these drawings in a year, I will definitely publish the same again, but on the occasion of my favorite inventor Gyro, who is now celebrating his 70th birthday. Although I don’t have that much time for many endeavors (for some I may arrive now, and for some not yet) so here’s a dedicated drawing for my favorite inventor at Duckverse, and that is Gyro Gearloose. He first appeared in the comic book “Gladstone’s Terrible Secret” in May 1952 (I learned somewhere that it was actually in April) and since then it has been 70 years since Gyro Gearloose appeared. Yes, he was created by the genius Carl Barks. Certainly, he became Donald’s best friend and credited with the creation of Duck Avenger, as well as working for Scrooge McDuck, although Scrooge paid him poorly (even with peanuts). All in all, Gyro has a phenomenal family as well as great inventions, although sometimes it goes according to a bad plan. Yes, Ludwig von Drake and Gyro Gearloose are not the same, although they invent new inventions. Most of the time, Ludwig is more of a consultant in comics, while Gyro is in charge of repairs and inventions. Yes, in 1965, his nephew Newton also appears and he will be the best friend of Huey, Dewey and Louie. Although he is naughty, he still benefits his friends as well as his uncle.

The first drawing is related to Gyro Gearloose driving his Gyromobile, along with Ludwig von Drake driving his Ludwigmobil and Newton driving his Newtoncopter. You can see the link to this here: https://ducktoonsfanart.tumblr.com/post/666637939548340224/here-is-my-new-drawing-although-ive-been-late

The second drawing is related to Time Tub, which can be traveled through time, invented by Gyro Gearloose. With them goes the Grand Mogul (Bertie McGoose), Junior Woodchucks (Huey, Dewey and Louie) and Donald Duck who is grumpy. And there's Little Helper. You can see the link for the second drawing here: https://ducktoonsfanart.tumblr.com/post/676695941665947648/gyro-gearloose-and-his-friends-in-timetub-i-wanted

The third drawing is related to the modern version of Gyro Gearloose and his nephew Newton who became a teenager and so I imagine them in the Quack Pack. There's also Little Helper. You can see the link for the third drawing here: https://ducktoonsfanart.tumblr.com/post/683174889457369088/gyro-gearloose-and-his-nephew-newton-gearloose

Now, I could do something special for him, which I might do, but for now, that's it. I hope you like this and wish Gyro Gearloose, happy 70th birthday again! Also music with this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y55FbDevEx8

[aewmoves]

[photog-crafty]

[fromthedust]

Adolf M. Hopfmuller (German/American 1876-1971)

Adolf M. Hopfmuller - selected covers from SHADOWLAND magazine - 1919—1923

When publisher Eugene V. Brewster launched his third magazine SHADOWLAND in 1919, it was obvious this was something quite different. Billed as the “Handsomest Magazine in the World”, SHADOWLAND was most definitely an ARTS magazine, not just a movie fan magazine. Literary, theatrical, visual and fine arts, interior and set design, and yes, movies, and much more from the world of art, were all showcased inside SHADOWLAND. SHADOWLAND was retired in November 1923 and blended into the Brewster Publications sister magazine, Motion Picture Classic. A.M. Hopfmuller continued as the Art Director of Brewster Publications (Classic and Motion Picture Magazines) until he left the company in early 1926 at the age 51. Although he may have retired from Brewster Publications, A.M. Hopfmuller never retired from painting. He went on to work for another publishing mogul, William Randolph Hearst, on magazines such as Smart Set and McClures, and was named the Art Editor of Harper’s Bazaar in 1927. His creative interests and abilities weren’t limited to painting. Hopfmuller worked with wood, hand-carving picture frames, building rustic garden furniture, and carved bookcases.

“He enjoyed building models of sailing ships for his grandchildren to sail/race in a local park (we still have one). And he designed and maintained a beautiful garden on his property adjoining his house.” – Ruth Hamann (Hopfmuller’s grand-daughter-in-law)

more about his life:

www.50plusworld.com/shadowlands-art-deco-artist-a-m-hopfmuller/

[amillieaway]

prompt: that hurts

They break up in the middle of dinner.

Maybe at a restaurant Granger would have avoided a scene, but because they were staying in, yet again, and because Draco insisted on it, she takes full liberties in unleashing hell upon him.

At one point plastic cutlery and teriyaki-stained wooden chopsticks are airborne. Later, when Draco undresses, he finds a rice noodle in the buttonhole of his blazer. And for the grand finale, shards of his great-aunt’s vase become a mosaic on his foyer floor, once valued at some fifteen thousand galleons. Now, worthless.

She’ll be back, he thinks, quite confidently. He experienced a similar rockiness when he dated Pansy. They broke up and got back together at least every other fortnight.  

A day goes by.

Three, five, ten—and nothing.

Fine, Draco relents, he’ll write to her.

It’s a fine letter. Bottomless black squid ink, proof-read four times, eloquently expressing that he misses her, that he’s sorry they haven’t been together in public places and, if she’s willing to hear him out, he’ll take her out for a proper meal. She can even tip-off the Daily Prophet if it pleases her.

She doesn’t reply.

Draco grows irritable. He begins to resent her a little.

Once, before the war destroyed his reputation, any girl would have been thrilled Draco Malfoy was giving her the time of day. He was good-looking. He was wealthy. His family was connected to top politicians and moguls in the Wizarding World. He was Slytherin’s Seeker. She would have been lucky to date him.

So what, they haven't been out in public after a couple months of dating? That gives her no right to give him the cold shoulder and act like they never knew one another.

To hell with her.

Days pass, and Draco is gutted. Wrecked.

Her absence hurts and hurts and hurts.

He catches himself staring out into space at odd moments. Over a bowl of soggy cereal, trying to remember what her hair smelled like. Peach? Pear? Wiping the same spot on the window for five minutes, knowing it’s Sunday, and somewhere on the other side of town, she must be cleaning her flat too.

He caves and writes to her once more.

This time, with more apologetic and less arrogant undertones.

Radio silence.

He knows she’s receiving them because he prodded gossip out of Blaise who lives with Pansy who bumped into Potter at a party, and Potter drunkenly blurted out that ‘your douchy friend Malfoy’s still trying to win Hermione back. She needs to forget that wanker, if you ask me.’

Well nobody asked you, Potter, thank you very much.

And so Draco spirals a little.

He sends fifty-three bouquets to her office. One for each day they were together. When he hears nothing, he follows it up with fifty-three cauldron cakes. When that proves no bueno, he hires a mariachi band to follow her around the Ministry, singing cheery love ballads. He’s given them express instructions to perform until she visits him.

That should prove he’s more than okay with everyone knowing they’re together. He doesn’t care. All he needs is Granger back. Because-because—

“I miss you,” he says when she Apparates into his office precisely thirty-seven minutes after he unleashed the mariachi band upon her, holding out longer than he expected.

She’s red in the face, shoulders bunched up to her ears, eyes blazing, pointing a finger at his chest. “You are the most infuriating, conceited, over-the-top…”

“I miss you,” he repeats, speaking over her as he rounds the desk to meet her on the opposite side.

“…PRAT I have ever had the misfortune…”

“I miss you so much.” He has her shoulders, forcing them down a little, pressing his thumbs right where he knows she needs it most, watching delightfully as they liquify even as she’s going on.

“…encountering and when I’m done with someone, Draco, I am DONE…”

“I need you back, Hermione.” He draws his palms down her arms, grabbing her hands and pinning them to his chest when she tries to swat him away.

“…and I refuse to date anybody who’s even slightly ashamed of where I come from…”

“I love everything about you.”

And that about does it.

Granger stands there, mouth agape, no more screaming. She drops her gaze to her hands, splayed open on his chest, realising, perhaps, how close they are. Feeling, maybe, how her presence alone turns Draco on. Seeing, hopefully, the authenticity in his gaze.

“You… you…”

“I love you,” he says, prepared. “I’m sorry you had to leave before I realised it.”

“Harry says I need to forget you.” She’s staring at his lips now, making no effort to step away.

“Potter’s a wanker.”

She frowns, but doesn’t seem angry. Her eyes grow distant, lost in thought.

He waits.

When her focus resurfaces, she's watching his lips again, heat creeping into her irises. “Kiss me on two conditions.”

“One?” he asks, heart racing.

“We tell everybody.”

Her breath is warm on his skin. Deliciously close. “And two?”

“You never send anything to my work ever again.”

It’s the sweetest deal he’s ever made.

xx

[thebisexualdogdad]

Could I request a Roy Harper and Reader

Where Roy asks for help fixing up his suit/asks reader to help with a tie for a formal event/formal dinner date.

Roy has experience in this but wanted reader to do it

Reader clues in that he knows how to tie his tie and unties it to tease him.

(Dc comics version of Roy)

Roy Harper x GN!reader - the tie

*Ben Levin used as fancast*

The titans had gotten word that HIVE was sending a few of their assassins to kill a tech mogul during his yearly charity gala which meant the team was going undercover.

You stopped by Roy's apartment to pick him up as Dick had assigned you to pretend to be a couple for the night though this may have been an indirect set up since Kory had been telling Dick for months that the two of you had feelings for each other.

Letting yourself in with the spare key Roy had given you, you walk into his bedroom to find him standing in front of a mirror dressed in the only suit he owns, a loose tie around his neck.

"Wow Roy, you clean up nice," you say, Roy smiling at you when he turns around.

"You don't look so bad yourself," he laughs, giving you a once over, "lend me a hand with my tie?"

You approach him, biting your lip at how close you are to him now.

Roy looks into your eyes, making you nervous as you attempt to tie his tie.

Your hands tremble ever so slightly, you were a badass superhero yet somehow Roy Harper was able to make you a nervous wreck.

"I think that part goes under now," Roy says as you struggle to get through the final steps making you realize he fully knows how to tie a tie he just wanted to get you close to him.

You finish tying his tie, smoothing it down, "there, now you look even more handsome," you smile.

"So you think I'm handsome?" He grins.

You gulp, glancing between his eyes and his lips.

Two could play this game.

You tug on his tie, undoing all the work you had just done.

"Really?" He laughs.

"Since you seem to be such an expert you can tie your own tie Harper," you say leaning in so close you are nearly kissing him, "and hurry up, Dick scheduled our grand entrance to be at 8pm on the dot."

Roy licks his lips, intently staring at a certain part of you highlighted by your form fitting attire as you walk away from him.

He's broken from his trance by Dick's voice in his coms, "Roy are you and Y/N still going to be on time?"

"Yep, we are just about to leave," he informs him.

"Good, Kory and I are already on our way, Donna and Garth will arrive after you guys, then Gar and Raven with Vic running base of operations," Dick states.

"You paired me up with Y/N on purpose didn't you Grayson," Roy chuckles as he redos his tie.

"Well maybe if you just asked them on a date already you would be going out tonight as a real couple," Dick teases.

"Well maybe I'm just waiting for the right time to ask Y/N out," Roy retorts.

"Um guys, this isn't the private line," you state, Roy blushing when you peak your head back in his bedroom, "and yes Roy I will go out on a date with you."

"You're welcome Harper," Dick says and he can hear the others laughing through their coms.

"Shut up Grayson… but thanks…"

[princessviana]

Shadows of Diception

Chapter 1

⚠️Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fanfiction and is purely a product of the author's imagination. It does not depict any real-life events or individuals. While some characters may be inspired by real-life idols, their portrayal in this story is fictional and not representative of their true selves. Please note that this book may contain triggering content, including themes of abuse, gore, murder, humiliation, bullying, rape, and other mature and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised, especially for those under the age of 18. If you are uncomfortable with such content, it is recommended to refrain from reading and kindly disregard this story.

"Hey, Hana! Jessica and I are heading to the canteen. Are you coming?" Georgia asked, swiftly packing her belongings into her bag. The moment the word 'canteen' slipped from her lips, I could feel a pang of hunger in my stomach. But the harsh reality was, I didn't have any money.

"Uh... You two go ahead. I'm on a diet, remember?" I responded, forcing a smile while clutching my bag tightly.

Georgia raised an eyebrow at me and scoffed, "You're already skinny," she murmured under her breath as she walked away.

"Are you sure you're not coming?" Jessica asked, lingering at the door.

I just nodded and offered her a reassuring smile. "Okay," she replied, looking slightly concerned before she left.

With a sigh, I turned my attention to the window, my thoughts drifting away with the view outside.

Lies. Yes, lying is generally considered bad, but in my situation, it felt like the only option. I am a scholarship student, secretly blending in with my affluent classmates. My presence in this prestigious university is solely due to my scholarship.

From the first day, I was exposed to the harsh reality of this seemingly perfect institution. The environment was toxic, a different kind of toxicity compared to what I had experienced at home with my parents. It was like stepping into a hellish realm.

On my first day, I witnessed firsthand how the scholarship students were treated - they were bullied, treated like maids, or even worse, like pets. I was deeply disappointed to see the university professors turn a blind eye to such bullying. The most terrifying part was that they would beat the person to the brink of death, and no one would intervene. The crowd just watched, and I too, was frozen in fear.

In this hostile environment, my only defense was to lie. I pretended that my parents were wealthy and that I lived a life of luxury. Thankfully, I managed to make two friends, all daughters of well-known business moguls. By some divine intervention, they never asked me to prove my wealth. If they had, I would have been exposed, and my life would have become even more complicated.

My train of thought was abruptly interrupted by a commotion outside the window. I had a clear view of the spectacle unfolding - a figure on a Harley Davidson motorcycle was making an entrance through the university's grand gates. Recognizing the bike, I knew instantly who it was - the famously known Professor Jeon Jungkook.

His presence sparked excitement among the girls and even the female professors of the university. However, his frosty demeanor seemed to be impervious to their fawning. Rumors had it that he was already married to the renowned model Farah, who also happened to be my idol. Despite his marital status being common knowledge, it didn't deter the girls from pursuing him.

To be honest, if I were in his shoes, I'd find it quite annoying too. I had seen his coldness and occasional cruelty firsthand. His rejections were brutal, leading to public humiliation for those who dared to confess their feelings to him. In fact, there were three girls who had tragically taken their own lives due to the humiliation they faced after being rejected by him.

Despite his harshness, I was perplexed as to why girls, including my friends, were still chasing after him. I admit, I too was initially smitten by him, but witnessing his cruelty made me withdraw my feelings.

However, one day while watching TV, I saw a completely different side of him. During an interview featuring Jungkook and his wife Farah, I saw how sweet and gentle he was towards her. I wasn't sure if it was all for show, but Farah's genuine reactions made me believe in his sincere affection for her. I found myself smiling at the sight. If I could find a man like that, I'd be grateful. I wouldn't worry about him cheating or anything of that sort. Farah is indeed lucky to have him.

The university bell echoed through the halls, signaling the commencement of the next class. My classmates, including my friends, burst into the room, disrupting the silence. I sighed, observing as some of the girls began retouching their makeup and hiking up their skirts, actions that I found rather distasteful. I knew why they were behaving this way - our next class was Psychology, taught by none other than Professor Jeon Jungkook.

"Hey," Jessica greeted, taking a seat beside me with Georgia. I returned her smile and turned my attention back to the front of the room. The door opened again and I could practically feel the excitement ripple through the girls in the room. I snickered to myself, finding their infatuation with such a cold person rather amusing.

Ignoring the awestruck expressions and even some drooling faces, he walked to the front of the room. The sound of books slamming onto the desk made all of us flinch. I assumed he did this to snap the girls out of their daydreams about him. He scanned the room, adjusting his cufflinks and crossing his muscular arms, which caused some girls to squeal. He ignored them and began his lecture.

He started discussing the intricacies of human behavior, the way our minds work, and how our environment influences our actions - the core principles of psychology.

When his lecture concluded, the girls groaned in disappointment, but he didn't seem to care. He packed up his things and left without giving his students a second glance.

"Haah," Georgia sighed dreamily, her eyes still glued to the door Professor Jungkook had exited through. She rested her head on her arms on the desk and said, "I wish he was mine." I didn't want to know what she was imagining.

Jessica scoffed at Georgia's comment and then turned to me. "Let's go, Hana," she said. I nodded and began packing my things. As we stepped outside, we witnessed a scene that was sadly becoming all too familiar. A student was being beaten up by the so-called 'elite' students of the university. For them, it was a normal occurrence, but for me, it was always shocking and new. These popular students seemed to operate above the rules, doing whatever they pleased without fear of consequence.

Jessica turned to me with a smile, pulling me away from the unpleasant scene. The rest of the day rolled by uneventfully, and by nightfall, I was heading to my shift at the café. I preferred working late, avoiding the need to return home to my abusive parents. Their harsh treatment had left visible scars on my body, a painful reminder of their cruelty.

I sighed, putting on a smile for the new customer. "Good evening, welcome to our café. May I take your order?" I asked, maintaining my professional demeanor.

The customer ordered a cappuccino and a slice of our homemade carrot cake.

The dining room was as quiet as ever, filled with a cold aura that Farah could always feel, especially now when Jungkook's parents were visiting. She tried to control her shaking hands as she ate her meal in silence, the only sound being the clinking of cutlery.

The silence was abruptly broken by a domineering voice, causing Farah to flinch. Jungkook noticed her reaction and gently rubbed her leg in an attempt to comfort her. "When are you two going to give us a grandchild?" Jungkook's father asked, his cold gaze making Farah freeze in her seat.

"We're still not ready for it, and Farah is a model..." Jungkook began, only to be cut off by his mother's icy interruption. "You've been married for a long time and still no child? Is your career more important than giving us a grandchild, and a child to your husband?" His mother's harsh words filled the room, making Farah lower her gaze, guilt welling up within her.

Jungkook slammed his hand on the glass table, his dark gaze meeting his parents'. "Enough of this!" he shouted, clearly furious. His parents scoffed at his outburst, but he continued, "If having a grandchild is so important to you, then we'll consider a surrogate." His words hung in the air, a cold proposal that reflected his frustration and determination to end the argument.

Farah looked at her husband in shock, grabbing his hand as he seethed with anger. She tried to say something, only to be interrupted once again by her mother-in-law.

"Okay then, go find a surrogate," her mother-in-law said coldly, standing up along with her husband, and they both left the couple there.

"Jungkook," Farah softly called, trying to get her husband's attention. He sat back down, rubbing his temples in stress.

"What?" Jungkook responded blankly, his gaze distant.

"I'm sorry," Farah apologized, her eyes filled with tears. Jungkook sighed, standing up from his chair, and coldly looked down at his wife, who couldn't meet his gaze.

"It's for the best. At least your so-called reputation and career won't be destroyed," he said before walking away, leaving his wife to softly cry alone.

...

Jungkook walked away, still consumed by anger over the events that had unfolded at the dining table. He couldn't believe he had proposed the idea of finding a surrogate just to please his parents. Deep down, he was disappointed too. He longed to have a child with his wife, but he understood her love for her career. He couldn't bear to take that away from her, being the understanding and loving husband that he was.

"James!" he called out to his trusted bodyguard, a middle-aged man who quickly approached his side.

"Yes, young master?" James asked, looking down respectfully.

"Tomorrow, as quickly as possible, find a candidate for a surrogate," Jungkook said coldly, putting his hands in his pockets. He drew out a cigarette and lit it, lost in thought as he gazed out into the distance.

"Right away, sir," James replied before leaving him there.

"Fuck," Jungkook muttered under his breath, taking a long puff of the cigarette.

...

Meanwhile, James walked away, dialing a number on his phone. After a few rings, a drunken voice answered at the other end of the line, causing him to frown. Nevertheless, he continued the conversation.

"Nate, I have something for you to do," he said, sounding commanding.

"Oh, sure! What is it?" Nate responded.

"I want you to find a woman who is willing to be a surrogate," James said before hanging up, not even bothering to hear Nate's response on the other end.

....

Nate looked up from his phone just in time to see his daughter, Hana, walking through the door. A creepy smirk formed on his lips as he called out her name. Hana flinched, her eyes filled with fear, as she looked at her father.

"I need to discuss something with you," Nate said, his tone cold and detached. Hana slowly approached him and sat down in front of him, her heart racing with anticipation.

"I want you to be a surrogate," Nate stated, not bothering to consider Hana's reaction or how harshly he was delivering the news. It was difficult for Hana to process the words coming from her own father.

"W-What? No!" Hana objected, standing up in disbelief. Nate glared at her, his anger intensifying, and without warning, he delivered a harsh slap to her right cheek. The impact turned her cheek red immediately, leaving Hana shocked and in pain.

"You have no say in this! Whether you like it or not, you will be a surrogate. Tomorrow, we're going to have a meeting with them," Nate declared, his words leaving Hana heartbroken and causing her to break down in heavy sobs.

"Why? Why are they doing this to me?" Hana softly asked herself, curling up and hugging her knees closer to her crying,tears streaming down her face. "They are so cruel," she whispered before exhaustion and sadness overcame her, and she fell asleep, still crying.

[unsoundedcomic]

Has anyone ever been born with past life memories?

Oh, people are always claiming they've been. Every bookstore is lousy with autobiographies of famous people as written by their next incarnation. Everyone thinks they were Ssael's wife in a past life or Mogul or Victori Dauph the Gallant. No one ever thinks they were just some washerwoman or tax collector.

How does anyone evaluate if these claims are true though? Many of the people who make the claims believe them fully, so it's not like they're lying. Sette thinks it's all grand and admirable scams. Duane thinks such people should look more closely at their present incarnation, and make better use of it.

[ducktoonsfanart]

Donald's girlfriend, Donald's sister, Donald's relatives and Donald's friends. - Duckverse characters

I will be posting some of my old drawings and I am posting new drawings related to certain characters from the Duckverse and the classic Disney universe from comics, cartoons and video games that I love and I am posting them separately.

The first drawing is Daisy Duck and yes Donald's girlfriend, and aunt to April, May and June, but definitely she is a special person that I love in the Duckverse. I drew her in Ducktales 2017 style in a beautiful dress, but in my own way.

The second drawing is Della Duck, Donald's sister and pilot and mother of Huey, Dewey and Louie. Although she had a role in the Ducktales reboot, she also had roles in comics, especially Dutch comics. I drew her combining the Ducktales reboot style with the Topolino style. Also, I was inspired by some drawings related to her,

The third drawing is Gyro Gearloose, a famous innovator who works for Scrooge, but helps Donald and his nephews a lot. He is also Donald's best friend. Yes, I drew him in the style of Ducktales in 1987. And there's Little Helper.

The fourth drawing is Fethry Duck, Donald's clumsy cousin who does all kinds of things just to somehow please others. He likes to help, but sometimes things go too far. Still, he's Donald's best cousin to me. I drew him in the style of Italian comics (Topolino).

The fifth drawing (new drawing) is the Gladstone Gander, Donald's lucky cousin. He is often lucky and annoys Donald a lot, although his luck is not always useful. He also has problems. Overall, I love Gladstone. I drew him in the style of Italian comics (Topolino) and he is wearing a four leaf clover as well as a horseshoe which symbolizes good luck.

The sixth drawing is Gus Goose, Donald's cousin who is often lazy and likes to eat and sleep. Although he annoys many, he is still useful to Grandma Duck where he works at her farm. Still, I love Gus. I mostly drew him based on the Italian comics (Topolino) and that he was eating his sandwich.

The seventh drawing is Grandma Duck (Elvira Coot), who is also the best parent in the Duckverse in general, because she took care of Donald, Della and her other grandchildren a lot. She is also strict, but she is also well-intentioned. I drew her based on the Italian comics (Topolino) and that she is holding a cake, as she likes to bake and cook cakes. She is also the oldest living citizen of Duckburg, although she lives on her farm and is the daughter of Clinton Coot, who founded the Junior Woodchucks.

The eighth drawing is Dickie Duck, Goldie's granddaughter. She is a very lively, exciting older teenage girl who works a lot and hangs out with her friends. Yes, she works for Brigitta and Gideon, but also helps Scrooge. She also hangs out with Daisy a lot. Plus she babysits Donald's nephews and Daisy's nieces. I drew her based on the Italian comics (Topolino).

The ninth drawing is Bertie McGoose or Grand Mogul, the leader of the Junior Woodchucks, also one of Donald Duck's best friends from childhood. He can be curmudgeonly, but mostly he does everything to help the Junior Woodchucks, in which Donald's nephews and Gyro's nephew Newton are certainly the most useful.

I hope you like these drawings and love these characters.

[calaisreno]

Reunion

Prompt: Together

Old friends, reunited.

Molly had always known that Greg wasn’t the kind of man who retired and had hobbies. Sitting around the house all day would drive him mad, and it did for a few weeks. When he told her he’d been offered a job consulting for the Met, she encouraged him to take it. It meant odd hours and missed dinners, but he was happier that way. 

Consulting Detective. 

She frequently thought of another consulting detective, one who’d left on a secret mission eighteen years ago and never returned. Something had happened, she suspected, something connected to the mysterious death of Charles Augustus Magnussen, the media mogul. Sherlock was involved, somehow, but the details never came out, and within a week he was gone.

She’d asked John about it, but he just shook his head. His wife had left him by then, suddenly and without explanation. She was pregnant, expecting a little girl, and they’d seemed happy about it. 

Gone, he told Molly. The baby wasn’t his. Mary wasn’t what he’d thought. He didn’t know anything about Sherlock, but his look told her what he believed. He wouldn’t be coming back this time.

It was disorienting, as if reality were unravelling, revealing another, very different reality beneath.  

Greg was the one stable thing during that time. He could make no sense of Sherlock’s sudden disappearance, either, and when John left too, he seemed as surprised as Molly. 

“I never understood it,” he told her. “Those two. They loved each other. Never understood what went wrong.”

She’d replied that when Sherlock returned after faking his death, they never really worked it out. Rubbish at talking, those two. 

She and Greg talked. A death could be mourned. It was a different kind of grief when people simply left and you didn’t hear from them again. 

That was when they’d started seeing one another, having coffee, and then dinner, and eventually moving in together. The wedding was a small affair, just Greg’s kids and a few close friends. After a few years, Molly gave up working at the morgue and began teaching. A few years later, Greg retired, then started working as a consultant. They had a nice life, she often thought.

The restaurant where she’s meeting him is a new one in their neighbourhood. Da Vinci, it’s called. An Italian bistro. They’ve been meaning to try it since it opened, and tonight they have a reservation. 

Arriving a bit early, she takes a seat in the waiting area after letting the hostess know she’s still waiting for her husband, and takes out her phone to check for messages. 

15 minutes, he texts. 

Tucking her phone away, she notices that someone else is waiting. She glances at him and startles as if she’s seen a ghost. 

He’s standing, a tall, thin man with dark hair sprinkled with grey. Not the luxuriant curls he used to wear; it’s cropped closer now. He’s wearing a black pullover and light wool trousers, no jewel-coloured shirt or dashing coat. The face is older, but the eyes have not changed. The colour of water, she’d always thought. Nobody, not even his brother, has eyes like that. 

Those pale eyes are fixed on his phone, and he’s smiling. Glancing up, he clearly recognises her. An odd look crosses his features, as if he is not sure what such a moment calls for. 

“Molly Hooper,” he says. 

“Sherlock.” 

All those years ago, before he left, he needed her help and told her his plan. Those two years were very different for her, her grief mostly for the people who believed him dead— Mrs Hudson, Greg, and especially John. John had never really recovered from the shock of it. When Sherlock returned, he resented Molly because she’d been taken into Sherlock’s confidence, and he had not. And Sherlock, who’d insisted on the secrecy mostly for John’s sake, had gone about his grand return all wrong. He never really got back on the right foot with John, who soon married a woman he’d just met. Sometimes Molly thought he’d done it to spite Sherlock, or at least to keep a safe distance from him. He never fully trusted Sherlock after that. But the love was still there. She could see the pain in his eyes when Sherlock left again. 

Rising from her seat, she goes to him. 

What do you say after eighteen years?

“When did you get back?”

“Just a few weeks ago.” He gives her a tentative smile. “I’m officially retired.”

How old is he? He’s about her age, so maybe mid-fifties. She supposes that undercover agents don’t have long careers. Though he’s still good-looking, she can see that the years have worn him down. A weariness hangs on him, so different from the manic man who swooped into her morgue and demanded body parts. 

“You’re not retired,” he says. “You’re teaching in the pathology programme at Barts. And you’re married. Obviously.”

She laughs. “Can you deduce anything about my husband?”

He cocks his head and narrows his eyes. “Mrs Lestrade. You have a daughter, fourteen. She picked out your earrings.”

“Greg is on his way. He’ll be so happy to see you. Would you join us for dinner?”

“I’m expecting someone as well.”

That’s when she notices the ring. “You’re married.”

“Only just.” He suppresses a grin, glances at his phone again. “Says he’s running a bit late.”

Like everyone who knew Sherlock, she’s suspected that he’s gay. When she realised this, it made it easier to accept his lack of interest in her. An odd man, one who avoided sentiment; but clearly in love with his flatmate. 

She might ask about John. But John has been gone for years, too, and she doesn’t know anyone who hears from him, not even Mike Stamford, who told her that he’d joined Doctors Without Borders. That was years ago. 

“It’s so good to see you,” she repeats, unable to think of anything else to say. 

“You as well.” He nods at the door. “Looks like your husband has arrived.”

Greg has caught sight of them and is standing, a look of stunned amazement on his face. He gives a short laugh and strides across the waiting area. “Sherlock Holmes,” he says, throwing his arms around his old friend. “In the flesh, once again.”

“Not quite as sensationally as the last time,” Sherlock says. “I’m old news now. More accurately, no news at all.”

“We never heard anything,” Greg says, stepping towards Molly and planting a kiss on her cheek. “All I could get out of your brother was that you were working for the government. The only way I knew anything at all was from talking with John—“

Molly cringes and Greg seems to realise he’s said the wrong thing. 

“Mycroft believed it was critical to keep it all confidential,” Sherlock says. “In those days I’d been so much in the news, he was attempting to keep me out of the spotlight.”

“But you were on a mission, weren’t you?”

Molly takes Greg’s arm. “Won’t you sit with us, Sherlock? I’m sure you don’t want to be discussing this here.”

Sherlock speaks to the hostess while Greg and Molly are led to a table for four. Following them, he takes his seat, asks for a glass of wine, and fiddles with his napkin. 

“Tell us about your husband,” Molly says. “Where did you meet?”

His eyes twinkle. “In Kazakhstan. We were on a flight from Beijing that had engine trouble, had to set down in the middle of nowhere. From there, we were bussed to a small hotel, where he and I ended up being roommates for the night.”

“Love at first sight?” she asks.

He pauses, his lips twitching in a smile. “I felt as if I already knew him. We wasted no time in getting married.”

Molly tries to imagine the Sherlock she knew marrying a man on an impulse. Or marrying anyone. He’d proposed to a woman once, but that was for a case. He wasn’t like that, when she knew him.

“Where’s he from?” Greg asks. “What kind of work does he do?”

“Geneva is his home base, but he’s now relocated to London. He’s… a doctor.”

“You seem really happy,” Molly says. “I’m so glad.”

“I am happy.” Sherlock looks a bit surprised by this. “He’s everything I could ever want.”

They fall silent, sipping their wine and looking at the menu. 

“Ah, here he is!” Sherlock’s face lights up in a way Molly has never seen. He’s standing, looking towards the door, impatiently rubbing his hands on his trousers, as if he can hardly restrain himself from running across the room. He waves. 

Molly and Greg turn to see what kind of man could put that look on the face of Sherlock Holmes. 

A short man in a trim suit, greying hair and beard, glasses. As he catches sight of Sherlock, he grins and opens his arms. They meet halfway in an embrace. 

John Watson.

“Blimey.” Greg shakes his head. “Another ghost returns.”

@lisbeth-kk @meetinginsamarra @raina-at @bertytravelsfar @momma2boys @jrow @helloliriels @the-reading-lemon @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @elwinglyre @mydogwatson @thetimemoves @jobooksncoffee @lhrinchelsea @peanitbear @gregorovitchworld @7-percent @shiplocks-of-love @khorazir @gaylilsherlock @catlock-holmes @the-reading-lemon @a-victorian-girl @discordantwords

1506 words / Flash Fiction

Note: This is a sequel to The Tarmac, a fic I wrote 3 years ago.

Thank you all, readers and writers, for participating in this prompt fest! And thank you to @notjustamumj for starting us off, inspiring us with her prompts. It's been fun to wake up to lovely, fluffy, angsty little stories each day, but this is our last prompt. We'll have to do this again! Thank you 💕 and keep writing!

If any of you writers have posted your daily stories for these prompts in a collection or series on AO3, please share a link to them. Mine can be found here: Trifles Two.

[aewmoves]

[photog-crafty]

[carleybenazzi-blog-blog]

9.90 by carley benazzi Via Flickr: Blog Instagram Mogul - mask -shield glasses@the Grand Merch - Cadet top Merch - Cadet skirt

[cottonundiestf]

Transformed Heroines A to Z: Enemies to Lovers

Being a hero meant having a nemesis. Sure, anyone could have a rogues gallery, but to really be a big name in crime fighting, you had to have a proper archenemy.

As a former sidekick, Batbrat lacked a nemesis of her own. Everyone saw her enemies as The Bat's bad guys. That was, until she started responding to Jester's crimes.

It was strange; almost like the clown-themed villain was going out of her way to commit crimes when Batbrat was patrolling. She started making a name out of defeating the crime clown, and they always put on a show for onlookers. Flashy hand-to-hand fights with plenty of banter. None of Batbrat's other baddies bantered with her, so it was a refreshing change of pace!

The newspapers started calling them New York's favorite frenemies due to their playful cat-and-mouse antagonism. Jester's troublemaking mostly capped out at grand theft and causing mischief for big companies, so it was hard for Batbrat not to go easy on her.

At some point, the media questioned of Batbrat was even trying to stop Jester at all. They had a point; the last time Jester turned a real estate mogul's mansion into a nightclub, Batbrat did more dancing than fighting when she showed up on the scene.

The perpetual lowering of her guard culminated in an encounter where Batbrat arrived a warehouse overgrown with magical plants. She knew Jester had a relationship with Lady Ivy, but when Batbrat asked, "Are you trying to make me jealous?" she was surprised when Jester commanded the plants to wrap her up.

"Really? Is this necessary?"

"Is the fighting? Be real, Batbabe; you don't really want to fight me, do you?"

The vigilante blushed. "...Maybe not."

"Thought so. If you were taking this seriously, you wouldn't have gotten caught," she pointed out. "So now the big bad evil clown's got you in her clutches." Jester grinned mischievously.

Batbrat's chest fluttered. "I guess she does. I wonder what a totally evil bad girl would do to a captured hero like this?"

"I wonder," she mused, pulling a zipper on Batbrat's costume and turning her to smile for the camera. "New York's been shipping us for months now; maybe it's time I make a dishonest Bat gal outta you," she teased.

Their first "couple stream" had #Jestbrat trending for a week. Some people questioned how a hero could justify dating a villain, but most people gave Batbrat a pass; everyone loved a fun, messy enemies-to-lovers romance.

Art Credit to MaHenBu. I acknowledge I'm a day behind, so thank you for your patience! This one was obviously a bit different (and maybe a little rushed) but I hope you enjoyed a little bit of fluff!

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Oh look - Eugenie/Jack and Zara/Mike share a flight back from the Bahrain Grand Prix with Jeremy Clarkson. by u/Von_und_zu_

Oh look - Eugenie/Jack and Zara/Mike share a flight back from the Bahrain Grand Prix with Jeremy Clarkson. Princess Eugenie, Jack Brooksbank and Mike and Zara Tindall fly back to the UK from Bahrain Grand Prix with Jeremy Clarkson and Madonna's son Rocco. (Also the Duke of Richmond, socialite Tamara Beckwith and billionaire insurance mogul David Howden. Peter Phillips and Sarah Ferguson aren't mentioned as being on the flight although they were at the Bahrain Grand Prix as well). They all look chummy. None of the royals seemed to be shunning Jeremy Clarkson after his poor satire about Madame nearly cost him his Netflix show. How sad that F1 Fan Harold couldn't make the opening race of the F1 season. Harold was at the Austin TX Grand Prix last season as a guest of Mercedes and also cozied up to Christian Horner/Red Bull.https://preview.redd.it/8dpnz0180dmc1.png?width=634&format=png&auto=webp&s=cf52da575d7c8abcad7a296ae9bf49ecff01918d​Mike hugging Jack Brooksbankhttps://archive.ph/I5ijvhttps://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-13154701/princess-eugenie-jack-brooksbank-zara-mike-tindall-private-jet-jeremy-clarkson-bahrain-grand-prix.html​https://preview.redd.it/rcmw0qhq2dmc1.png?width=493&format=png&auto=webp&s=02f29bbdcf1dfdd042911789b43a2e0269aa06d2Prince Harry is known to be an F1 fan. In March 2020, he teamed up with [Lewis] Hamilton, 38, to open the Silverstone Experience museum in the U.K. which is dedicated to the past, present and future of British motor racing.The visit was part of Harry’s final round of royal engagements before he and his wife, Meghan Markle, stepped back from their senior roles in the royal family and relocated to her home state of California.https://ift.tt/ctF9Ozn post link: https://ift.tt/ar3KdLM author: Von_und_zu_ submitted: March 04, 2024 at 07:41PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit