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aziraphale-is-a-cat · 9 months

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DP X DC Like Father Like Son

Danny and Tim had been dating for a year or so now, and after having moved in together Tim loves his boyfriend to bits with one singular complaint.

He never remembers to use the fucking door.

See, Danny had never been particularly shy about his meta status, he'd been taking his little 'shortcuts' through walls for long before Tim had met him. Tim knew he saw the laws of physics as somewhat optional, but he just couldn't understand how someone who had grown up till their teenage years a completely average human could so often have reality slip his mind.

So when he goes over to the Fenton family home for Thanksgiving week and sees his boyfriend's father absentmindedly kool-aid man his way through the public library's exterior wall, Danny's behavior suddenly started to make a lot more sense.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dpxdc #dcxdp #jack fenton #tim drake #dead tired #it was a moment of realization #that the whole family was kind of just like that #maddie casually discussing extradimensional travel #jasmine having fangs #vlad stopping by and play-blasting danny

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harunayuuka2060 · 16 days

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Ace and Deuce: *blaming each other*

Deuce: I told you it was the wrong spell, idiot!

Ace: But you still did it!

Jack and Epel: ...

Yuurin: *who is turned into a toddler because of their mistake*

Jack: Yuurin, I'll take you back to Savanaclaw. Maybe Leona-senpai knows how to change you back.

Epel: Or the effect should wear off on its own. In any case, you should take some rest. I will inform the teachers.

Yuurin: Okay. Thank you, Epel.

Epel and Jack: ...

Ace and Deuce: *stops fighting*

Epel: Jack, you should leave with Yuurin now. Or I might end up pinching her cheeks.

Jack: Sure.

Leona, Ruggie, and the other Savanaclaw students: ...

Yuurin: ...

Ruggie: Okay, boys. No cute aggression is allowed.

Leona: ...

Ruggie: And that includes you, Leona.

Leona: Tch. I know.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *feeling sleepy*

Yuurin: *she curled up like a ball and slept next to Jack*

Jack: ...

The Savanaclaw students: ...

Savanaclaw student A: Can we be aggressive to Jack?

Jack: What did I do?

#twisted wonderland #twst yuurin #twst jack #twst ace #twst deuce #twst epel #twst leona #twst ruggie #twst savanaclaw #twst unveil random moments

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asuni-m · 30 days

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Do you think, in Journey’s End, when Martha threatens to blow up the Earth to stop the Daleks, the Tenth Doctor has a flashback to him destroying Gallifrey?

And how Davros says The Doctor turns ordinary people into soldiers, he realizes it’s true. Because The Doctor was an ordinary person turned into a soldier and he did destroy is own planet to stop the Daleks. And Martha was going to follow in his path. A path he created first.

Do you think he saw himself in Martha? And all the things he’s ever done? All the deaths he caused? How, the only other planet he’s ever called home, was going to be destroyed by him, again?

How it was going to happen all over again, all because of him?

Cause I do.

#doctor who #the doctor #tenth doctor #davros #the daleks #martha jones #gallifrey #donna noble #rose Tyler #the time war #the moment #journeys end #captain jack harkness #mickey smith #jackie tyler #the destruction of Gallifrey #all over again #because of him

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tanglepelt · 9 months

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Dc x dp idea 101

Know one knows Danny is phantom except for Vlad. So after Danny rejects the fruitloop Vlad still does his whole clone thing.

Only Danielle is the “successful” halfa clone.

Vlad successfully clones Danny as a full human.

Vlad then accuses the real Danny as being a ghost pretending to be Maddie’s son. Everyone believes Vlad. They have no reason to believe that their son/friend is half ghost.

It’s easy for him convince everyone the ghost stole their sons memories. That’s why poor Danny doesn’t remember anything.

They run Danny out of town. Threatening to kill the ecto scum masquerading as Danny.

Danny meets up with Danielle and they go off exploring and heroing. Running into the teen titans. Ellie instantly vibes with their over all chaotic energy.

Eventually Ellie and Conner connect about being clones. At some point someone asks Danny how he felt when he found out he was cloned.

Danny doesn’t miss a beat.

He loves his first. Like She’s his baby sister. He doesn’t care she originally kidnapped him for her creator. She figured out the man was a fruit loop.

The second clone. That clone he hates. Stole his life and convinced his parents and friends that he wasn’t the original.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp dc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dcxdp #dpxdc #so silent after that was said #they were stunned #Danny would probably forgive the clone after the fact #but he is mad in the moment #those are his parents #his friends #and they had the audacity to run him out of town #the Danny clone does not hide his distaste of Jack #subtlety hinting to Maddie that Vlad is better #jazz knows something is wrong #but also doesn’t want to admit she was wrong #the clone genuinely beloved he is the real Danny #Danny went from happy to angry and frustrated when speaking of the second clone #Daniele is salt at the clone two #that clone got vlad love #and is wanted #both danny and Danielle would accept the new clone #only if he turned on vlad #or at realized the truth #feral Danielle #i edited this. lol.#original not orgini

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faeriekit · 2 months

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The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

#dp x dc #Jazz fenton #tim drake #that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him #free to a good home #Jack Fenton knits btw #I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to!#this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies #dpxdc #dcxdp #Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it #I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a #TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM #also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me #also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther #not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans #also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol.#faer fic

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swanpit · 1 year

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so something i just noticed today, looking back : you know lots of animated characters, they can get very animated with their hand gestures, in puss in boots the last wish, it’s no exception, we saw various character doing it except somehow, this guy

like he got lots of long dialogue shots but very rarely i saw his face and his free, empty hand doing whatever on the same frame? also some examples below under readmore so it’ll be a long post

meanwhile with other characters, it's business as usual

but i also noticed that his hands seems to do more movement/gesturings when he's holding an object, like the mug/coins/mainly his weapons

yeah so interesting detail that separate him from others there but i'm still not sure if this is more just for personality trait (as in the lack of hand gesturing isnt bad because in this case it's supposed to be something in character with him) or if there's deeper meaning i'm started to think about this because when i was drawing him sometimes i was thinking what pose i should give him when he's talking and i was like....huh have he ever done this kind of pose? not even normal people pose you see often other people/characters do? especially the ones you saw during conversations?

and turns out, he never did.

so yeah, that was a "huh" moment right there

#puss in boots 2 #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots death #puss in boots wolf #kitty softpaws #perrito #jack horner #goldilocks puss in boots #goldilocks and the three bears #tldr death's whole body language gets more expressive the moment the sickles are out #but at the same time he makes doing normal people pose looks weird

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show-your-fangs · 10 months

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What about a teenage!Jack where his friends are over and keep commenting how his Mom (reader) is attractive and Aaron finds it funny but Jack is mortified?

this is fucking GOLD. enjoy another installment of moments au

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 665

CW: nothing, cursing mostly.

Tags/warnings: jack's friends being pervs, cursing, jack defending his mom and dad.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

Aaron honestly couldn’t blame them. He honestly found it funny, how their cheeks would flush every time you walked past, seconds away from catching them saying the most inappropriate things about you. He knew they didn’t know he could hear them from his office, the angle keeping him hidden as he tried to work while also allowing for their voices to carry down the hall.

Jack had brought his friends over for a pool day and he’d requested that the two of you leave them alone, that they could fend for themselves. But as much as he’d pleaded, you were still unable to stop yourself.

You’d made them snacks, prepared a homemade ice tea, would check in every so often to make sure they were doing okay. And every time, without fail, his friends would pretend to be utter gentlemen, thanking you profusely until you left them alone once more and they turned from the kids their parents through they were into the horny teenagers they really were.

It became clear to Aaron immediately why Jack didn’t want you around. It had nothing to do with his independence but rather the fact that his friends clearly didn’t know how to act around his mom. They’d made every inappropriate comment a teenage boy could come up with, and every time Jack would groan or roll his eyes or politely ask them to chill. But every time you showed your face the comments would start up again.

It was after lunch when shit hit the fan. You’d ordered a big family meal style delivery, had set up the large containers in the kitchen, with the boys’ help which they were eager to give, and had made a plate for yourself and Aaron. They thought you couldn’t hear them in the kitchen, thought they were being so slick, but they should’ve known better than to not wait for you to exit the room.

“I still don’t know how your dad bagged her,” Eric started, clearly teasing. “She’s just so—”

“So out of his league,” Dylan finished and the two of them snickered together.

“If I had a step mom like that…” Nick sighed and the other two chuckled, no words needed for the four of them to know what he wanted to say. Jack couldn’t help but cringe, the mere thought of his stupid friends thinking about you this way appalling.

“You boys need anything else?” you said loudly from the kitchen, a cue for them to stop talking as you pushed the door open with your hip.

“We’re okay, thanks mom,” Jack’s voice was chipper like it always was with you, always soft and kind. His friends’ immediately perked up at your requests, their eyes sparkling with what you could only imagine were requests that you definitely didn’t want to know about.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hotchner,” they practically sang in unison, their teasing only getting more pronounced as you walked down the hall, desperately trying not to give them anything else to talk about, but apparently that was completely useless.

“Check out her ass—”

“Shut the fuck up, dude,” you heard Jack groan, his patience finally running thin. His friends stilled in an instant, your instinct to fix it slowly creeping up from your heart to your brain. But Aaron was quick, his hand wrapped around your waist before you could move. “How would you like it if I talked about your mom like that?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought,” he stated, confident. “So can you please just stop it?”

His words were followed by a string of mumbles and murmurs in agreement, ashamed apologies and admissions of guilt.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, Aaron quickly pulling you into his office so the two of you could erupt in a fit of giggles. It was cute, almost too adorable that the boy you’d met so long ago was now defending your honor to his friends, was standing up for his mom, for his dad, for his family.

okay i'm trying to get through some of the requests. i apologize for not being as active, you know how fanfiction authors' lives go off the rails sometimes.

i'm going to try and post a few of these before my "taking some time off" announcement. i've got a big week coming up but know i am trying.

tag list: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner blurb #jack hotchner being a cutie #show your fangs hotch blurbs #show your fangs moments au #show your fangs writes #moments on ao3 #show your fangs asks #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner

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harunayuuka2060 · 23 days

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Ruggie: Is it just me or is Yuurin looking sad today?

Jack: She is.

Ruggie: Huh? Why?

Jack: She lost the first-ever hairpin Leona-senpai gave her.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: Damn, but she has other hairpins, no?

Jack: Yeah, but it has the design of an Arctic tern and Yuurin really loves it.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: Alright. I'll go look for it.

Ruggie: Yuurin, here's the hairpin you've lost.

Yuurin: Ruggie-senpai?

Ruggie: You must've dropped it somewhere while doing your errands.

Yuurin: *nods*

Ruggie: Anyway, stop sulking now.

Yuurin: Thank you, Ruggie-senpai.

Ruggie: Don't mention it.

Yuurin: Is there anything I can do to repay you, senpai?

Ruggie: Eh, it depends. If you have some cash to give me, shishishi.

Yuurin: ...

Ruggie: *back to his room*

Ruggie: ...

*Seeing a chest full of gold sitting on his bed*

Ruggie: *noticed the small note on top of it*

“Thank you so much for finding my hairpin, Ruggie-senpai. — Yuurin”

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: She respects me. 🥹

#twisted wonderland #twst yuurin #twst ruggie #twst jack #twst unveil random moments

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the-torchwood-archive · 3 months

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Jack and Ianto and the coat thing.

I adore the progression of this. From season one, where he's handing Jack his coat or carrying in on his behalf, to season two, where he's the one dressing him. There's an intimacy to it, a familiarity. Using his hands to turn Jack into the Captain. Stepping into a role and ingraining himself in the fantasy.

It also evolves throughout season two. The slight struggle as Jack turns into it in Reset, the fluidity with which Ianto settles it against his shoulders in Stolen Earth.

The coat is such an important part of Jack’s identity, of the standards he has set for himself. It speaks volumes that he’s embraced Ianto into the ritual, into the upkeep of the image.

#torchwood #ianto jones #jack harkness #janto #gifs #Also I feel like I've missed one?#Is there a moment I missed?#I remember a moment where he picks it up off the back of a chair #but that might be fic

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