#I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY I'M SORRY

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

Wiggly Wednesday!! 🧠🪱

I was tagged by @matchingbatbites and @just-my-latest-hyperfixation on previous wiggly wednesday posts but I really haven't been having many new thoughts... UNTIL TODAY THAT IS

this week i've been thinking a lot about a (st)eddie fallout au.

i've been thinking about sole survivor!steve who marries a whip smart lawyer at the request (demand) of his and her parents once it's found out the harrington name can't keep him out of the war.

they shove the two together, she ends up pregnant just like their families wanted, and once back from the front lines, he tries his damndest to settle into his new life with his new family (and brand new son, Dustin, the goddamn light of his life), only for the bombs to drop.

on the other side of things is ghoul!eddie who served in alaska but lost half his leg and was sent home (he has since fitted an assaultron leg in its' place).

i think it'd be hilarious if he somehow finds a wig almost exactly like his old hair but that's a little worse for wear so he sews it into the lining of a black cowboy hat (they're practical alright?) and every time he meets someone he sweeps his hat off into a bow in an effort to make them laugh when his winkled bald head makes an appearance.

Steve, who leaves vault 111 and heads out from sanctuary soon after he realizes Codsworth doesn't have much to tell him about where that blond motherfucker had taken his infant son.

he heads into concord with his old baseball bat fitted with some new rusty nails and a german shepard trailing along behind him.

he sneaks around through the side streets to get past the majority of raiders who have backed a group of people into the old museum, but runs smack into one of them, a woman about his age (well, how old he'd been when he was frozen, goddamn vault-tec bastards) with her choppy, dirty blonde hair shaved nearly down to the scalp on one side.

"Wait! Please, don't kill me." she says, immediately dropping the scuffed up 10mm she'd been holding.

He studies her, then their surroundings, his military training kicking back in, but he doesn't hear anyone nearby... this isn't a trap?

"Please, they killed off my family and I either had to join them or they'd kill me too."

He looks her over, grabs her arm and pulls her under a dilapidated set of stairs, "How many are inside?"

"At least four adults, maybe a kid too."

"A kid?! are you serious?!"

"They're raiders! What do you expect!"

Steve huffs, does another scan, "Okay, c'mon, we can get through them, right? Can you shoot that thing?" he gestures with his chin to where her gun still lays.

She rolls her eyes, "Of course I can, dingus. You think I'd've survived this long if I couldn't?"

She scoots out from under the steps, Steve's "How should I know?!" following her trail of dust.

"I'm Robin, by the way."

"Steve." he says, standing too and hefting his bat onto his shoulder "Now let's go!"

-x-

They get through the museum, looting every possible thing they can from Robin's 'Friends' as they go, all the way to where the survivors have barricaded themselves.

The door opens easily, to Steve's surprise, he'd thought they'd ask more questions, but when the sawed-off is pointed into Robin's face, he thinks otherwise.

"Hey! Whoa! We just saved you!"

"What do you want, a sweet roll? She's a raider." the woman says, face pinched, hair tied back tight.

"She was a raider." Robin says, hands still raised.

"Wheeler, let 'em through, you know damn well they just saved our asses."

The woman, Wheeler, apparently, drops her weapon and lets them through to their hiding place.

There are, in fact, four adults and a kid. Though 'kid' in this case is a gangly 15/16 year old with dark hair.

Along with him and Wheeler, there's also a man with with a long braid down the center of his back and caramel colored skin, and a pale man with disheveled, choppy hair of his own. Well, more disheveled than Steve figures he normally'd be.

"It's only a matter of time before more of 'em come." A brusque man, sat onto the little couch in one corner with his leg extended in front of him, continues. "We need more fire power. We need that damn minigun."

"You have a minigun?"

"Yeah, it's in my pocket, lemme just---" the man rolls his eyes after miming reaching into the pocket of his grubby jeans, "It's on the roof, and we cant really use it unless we have that power armor too."

Steve knew grabbing that fusion core from the basement earlier would be useful.

"I've got it. Which is the door to the roof?"

"You need a fusion core, dumbass." the teenager says.

"There's one in the basement if you--"

"I've already got it." Steve says, "Which way to the roof?"

-x-

He doesn't have a single clue what the fuck that thing was, but he killed it, and now their group is heading back to Sanctuary.

The guy with the braid, Argyle, says that he saw the perfect place to settle in in a vision, ("A fucking Jet-fueled vision." Wheeler grumbles, not at all convinced the place Argyle is talking about even exists.) and asks Steve and Robin for their help in getting there.

"Yeah, sure," he says, voice coming out tinny through the power armor's old helmet speaker. "I think I saw a place to the north that sounds just like that."

So he does, taking up the rear as Hopper, the big man with the mustache, limps along at the front with his injured leg on one side and Wheeler on his other.

Robin takes a spot in front of him as the teen, Mike, has taken the spot to his right that Steve keeps feeling like Robin should fill the longer they walk. He should ask her to come with him to find Dustin.

"What's it like in there, can you see? That thing really took a bite outta your arm, can you fix it?" more and more questions about Steve's armor that he does his best to answer without getting short.. but he's damn fuckin' tired.

They hobble into Sanctuary just as the sky begins to lighten; Wheeler starts off along the riverbank with her rifle in hand as soon as they cross the bridge, the other man, Jonathan, helping Hopper the rest of the way up the hill to the house Argyle points out to him; it's the Smiths' house, two doors down from his own.

Steve, however, trudges along at 10% power, all the way to the carport of the Johnsons' home, the yellow one across from his and Nora's.

He doesn't know why they suddenly have a power armor station here, but he's glad for it and for Robin following him to the stand.

"Hook one of those chains though each of the hooks on my shoulders? That way I can hoist this thing up after I get out."

She does, he punches the release, and groans as he back out of the contraption.

-x-

They spend the next couple days helping the settlers get settled into sanctuary, but Steve's itching to get out of this place, to find his boy.

Robin, now free of her ratty raider garb, jumps at the opportunity to go with him and the shepherd Argyle's taken to calling Dogmeat. So, after a cryptic lead from Argyle to find the heart glowing in the great green jewel, they head out.

One or five adventures later, Steve and Robin arrive at the giant green walls of Fenway Park.

"Ah Diamond City, she'll have answers, I'm sure."

"Are you serious? Diamond City is in Fenway? That's just perfect." Steve shakes his head, "The walls must come in handy at least."

"Uh, yeah, it's why everyone wants to get in." She says, gesturing to a woman outside the gate that's arguing with an intercom.

"Dammit Powell, you can't just kick me out, I live here!"

"Sorry Joyce, Brenner isn't happy with what you've been saying about him."

"So you just lock me out? My kid's in there! Let me in, dammit!"

The woman looks up as Steve and Robin approach, "Hey, you two, you wanna get in?"

Steve looks up at the big metal gate that's been affixed to the stadium, "Uh.. yes?"

"Okay, then play along," she whispers.

-x-

Joyce manages to get the gate opened, the Mayor of the town meeting them at the turnstiles and fighting with himself on coming off hostile to Joyce, but trying to seem welcoming to the newcomers.

He drops it eventually, lets them through, but the whole interaction is already nagging at Steve. He should get Joyce to move back to Sanctuary.. after they've gotten settled a bit more, at least.

She's sweet to them, gives them supplies, calls Steve 'Blue' ("Because of your suit, hon." Oh yeah.. he should get some new underclothes too, huh?), and sends them off to Valentine Detective Agency, the only place she knows that could possibly be the 'glowing heart' of Diamond City.

The two get Nick out of Vault 114 at the behest of his secretary, break into Creel's old house in the stands with Robin's stellar lockpicking skills, and are hot on Dogmeat's heels soon after, arriving at Steve's old musterpoint before the bombs dropped, Fort Hagan.

They fight through waves of laser-gun wielding robots, that Robin calls 'gen 2s', all the way trough the Fort only Steve knows was named after the father of an old friend of his.

The blonde bastard that Steve remembers seeing down in 111 bears so little resemblance to the deep fried looking piece of shit standing before him now, that he almost doubts what Valentine told him, but tall, viney, and creepy's monologue clears some of it up at least. Something called FEV causing his ghoulification to speed up..

Steve can't make hide nor hair of it.

Robin explains it to him after, the existence of ghouls at least, she's not sure what the fuck FEV is, while they're camped out on the roof of Fort Hagan, watching the goddman Prydwen float across the sky.

"They're people, most of 'em from your time, some from after, but they all get wrinkly and stuff. Noses fall off, all that."

"Are they the same zombie things that always try to kill us?"

"Yeah," she sighs, "All ghouls turn feral eventually."

-x-

They make their way back to Diamond City, telling Nick what they saw, what they pulled from Creel's busted open head.

"Y'know, I've got a friend in Goodneighbor that might be able to help with this. You two rest up, use Ellie's bed too if ya need to. She's out for the next couple days."

-x-

The trio head out the next day, arriving with little fanfare in Goodneighbor late that night.

They get through the gate, only to be accosted by some guy in leather pants and a leather jacket.

“Newcomers, huh? Y’get insurance yet?”

“Back off man, I don’t have time for this.” Steve says, stepping forward.

The guy pulls a knife brandishing it way too close to Steve’s gut. “Sounds like you don’t, newbie.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, man. Finn. What’d I tell you about this insurance shit?” The husky voice comes from behind this Finn character, and Steve turns his attention to the possible new threat.

It was a ghoul; Clunky boots, dusty black denim jeans, a leather jacket of his own, and a head of long, curly brown hair under a black cowboy hat.

“This ain’t none’a your business, Munson.” The brute says, turning his attention to the ghoul.

Munson saunters forward, “C’mon, Finn, no love for your Mayor?” He reaches a hand up and out, grabbing hold of Finn’s shoulder, then in a flash, grabs a knife from the holster on his thigh Steve failed to notice, and has plunged the blade deep into his gut.

Finn sputters, then drops to the ground, dead.

"I've always hated that guy." Munson says, then turns his attention to the trio, "Hey you three, Nicky, been a while."

"Yeah yeah, how are ya, Eddie?"

Eddie Munson the ghoul shrugs his shoulders, "Can't complain. How c'n I help ya? Any friend of Nicky's is a friend of mine."

"We're here to see Amari," Nick says, pushing forward and heading towards an alley past the Old Statehouse.

"Very well, Nicky dear," Eddie says, reaching for his hat and pulling it off his head to dip into a bow.

The sight startles a laugh out of Steve; Eddie's whole head of hair had come off with the hat, only wrinkled skin bare to the lamplight around them. Robin cringes, shaking her head and following Nick.

Eddie looks up at Steve's laugh, grinning wide as he passes, "Pleased to be the reason for a sound so sweet," he nods down into a bow again, then pulls straight, flipping his hat (and hair) back onto his head by the brim. With one, dark brown eye, Eddie winks at him, then turns back to the Statehouse.

-x-

And so, Robin and Steve continue on their adventures.

Hopper has been making strides to revitalize his group of minutemen, trying their damndest to help the people of the Commonwealth get back on their feet.

Joyce and her younger son reunite with her oldest in Sanctuary and she and Hopper definitely have something going on.

The eventually come across The Railroad, a group of people trying to help Gen 3 synths escape The Institute, led by a woman named Christine.

They cracked the code on their catacomb bunker (not that fuckin' hard if your make your password RAILROAD), and are stopped in their tracks by three women. Well, at least one is a woman...seriously, what's with these random teenagers running around with guns??

Whatever. The one with the shaved head is somehow holding a fuckin' minigun all on her own, the redhead on the other side of who must be the leader here has a sleek-looking comabt rifle, and the one in the center, the older one, says "Stop right there."

"We come in peace."

"How'd you find us?"

"Well, you've been leaving holotapes everywhere, it seems like.. so we just followed the Freedom Trail here like you wanted...?"

"You just guessed the password then?"

"Uh... yeah."

Another person enters then, another teenager. His complexion making it seem like he stepped clear out of the shadow on the wall behind him.

"Who are you? Lucas," the woman says, "I need intel. Who are these two?"

"You haven't heard of the Twinsters, Chris?"

"The Twinsters?" Steve and Robin repeat at the same time.

"Coined it myself," Lucas says with a grin, "Twin Twister; These two can tear into a town and within an hour have it cleared of ghouls, raiders, supermutants, you name it. You guys are twins aren't you?"

"Yes." they say in tandem, not giving it another thought. It's as good an explanation as anything for how close they've become.

"And you vouch for them?" Chris asks Lucas.

"One hundred percent. We could definitely use them on our team."

"And we really need your help, we have a courser chip, and we were told you could decrypt it?" Robin asks, interrupting whatever Chris was going to say.

Chris looks back at Robin, pauses a moment, then nods. "We'll see what we can work out.

ANYWAY before i get too lost in the sauce about this even more; Steve and Eddie start hooking up and Eddie's just as suave as Hancock is but nerdier, they take down the Prydwen and Elder Carver, Lucas El and Max visit Sanctuary as often as they can and make fast friends with Mike and Will along with Dustin once Steve gets him back from the institute after everything, Hop gets dadopted by El, Buckingham endgame, maybe jargyle and ronance too? but Steddie is the endest of game lmao

please enjoy this v basic moodboard the end

[reverseisekai-richie]

Aww... Pokey is getting into the weeb spirit of this blog.

[bananielle]

having to be very quiet while with leehan in your room because you don’t wanna get caught… he was acting all cute and innocent like a puppy when he greeted your parents before going up to your room.. but the second the door to your room is closed shut & locked, it’s like he has put down that cute and bubbly mask down in a split second…

omg nonnie...this is so yummy <3

leehan is on his very best behaviour in front of your parents. he's so sweet and lovely and polite, always saying the right things. being a cute, giggly mess, promising them that he's always taking such good care of you. little did you know that he was referring to a completely different kind of care that you and your parents were thinking of.

as soon as the door closes behind him his pretty hands are all over you. he cups your face and kisses you deeply, wasting no time in letting his tongue tangle with yours. his hands roam all over your body, pulling you closer to him until it practically hurts. he's grabbing your ass and tits, sucking on your bottom lip, biting the sweet spot on your neck...anything to elicit filthy moans from you. he wants to see you fail to be quiet as he touches you.

the moment you both break apart for air, leehan would be speaking to you softly but lowly, with that pretty deep voice of his (i hate him). "need you to be quiet for me, pretty. don't want your parents to find out how good i'm taking care of you, do we?" leehan is always sweet and loving, but in these situations he finds so much pleasure in being a tease and seeing you struggle. he'd spend the rest of the night between your legs with a sickly sweet smirk on his face as threatens to deny your orgasm if you moan too loudly.

once he's done eating you out like his life depended on it, he's fucking you into oblivion. his body is pressed right against yours, one hand over your mouth as he coos and giggles at your inability to keep quiet. "shh, pretty. don't you want to cum?"

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

solomon couldn't stand your pact marks.

well, no, that wasn't the right way to put it. he was proud, even jealous of your pacts. they were one of the many admirable things about you! he just hated... looking at them. he knew what other people thought when they saw them.

when one would see those marks on your skin for the first time, they would be able to get a glimpse at your relationship with the brothers. one of trust and respect, gathered from just a glance. meanwhile, one would have to be told about his and your relationship. one look at you couldn't decipher all the time you two have shared together, filled with chatting between classes, practicing magic for hours, and endless love.

at first, solomon tried to mitigate this with his own marks upon your skin. wearing lipstick as he placed a kiss on your neck, a few stray bite marks from your time together at night. but those, while fun, were temporary. and solomon needed something permanent.

why not a ring?

(Hope you don't mind me adding on, anon. Thank you for the delicious meal! Literally so honored to read your beautiful work! 🥹)

Getting the ring was the easy part. Getting you away from the brothers long enough to propose...was not.

The lengths Solomon went through to be able to have a private moment with you might put him in a record book as the three realms' most whipped man. With the mask of his "shady" persona secured, he lets his silver tongue weave him through these seven obstacles, the sin of each dripping from it with only you on his mind.

Swallowing his pride, breathing in greed, spitting out envy...his wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth. A vicious rinse, repeat until he's either buttered them up or grated them down until they finally gave in. But he did it. With the day cleared of any interruptions, his plans were set in motion.

He decides to have a redo of your very first date, flying you up and walking in the sky amongst the stars. It's just the two of you against the ever inky black sky of the Devildom, a place that has become synonymous with your presence. Only this time, there are no surprise gales, no surprise drones -- just the surprise of a velvet heart-shaped box in the inside pocket of his coat.

Solomon brings up fond memories of your time together as you both near the spot he's picked to pop the question. He's filled with a giddy glee that soon you'll have something that binds you to him, something to show the world you're his.

Still, there's a little voice in the back of his head reminding him that you could say no. That perhaps he's not worthy. Does he deserve to have matching rings adorned on his and your fingers forevermore? Does he dare stand by your side as your equal when you are, in fact, so far above him?

He decides it's best not to dwell on such thoughts as this is meant to be a happy occasion, as long as all goes well.

Your feet touch the ground once he lowers you both on top of a cliff that overlooks the Devildom, the moon hanging brightly above. As you take in the magnificent sight, he lowers himself on one knee behind you, waiting with bated breath for you to turn on your own volition.

The moment you do, he knows he'll have to keep this memory stored away with his magic, just staring in awe. The moon is angled just right that it shines right behind your head like a halo. Your eyes are as wide as saucers while your jaw is slacked. With the way you look, he truly wonders if he's in the Celestial Realm.

Nervously, Solomon begins his improvised speech after clearing his throat, "my dearest apprentice, it is with great honor that I'm knelt before you tonight. I have dreamt of this moment more than I'd care to admit, yet I never thought it'd come true. But here I am, willing to give you all of me, if you're willing to give me all of you. You are the sun to my moon, the air in my lungs, the very reason why I believe I've lived so long. I was always meant to find you and work side by side to protect the human realm together. And most importantly, to love you. So, please do this old sorcerer a favor...by marrying me..."

He pulls out the ring box, opening it to offer you the ring within. The blessed box is shaking as he trembles, waiting patiently for your answer.

Happy tears spring from his eyes once you say, "yes." The ring is carefully slipped onto your finger, and a single word comes to Solomon's mind.

Mine.

[capn-twitchery]

twitch had a great birthday AND they didn't even fall off the ship!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉

(also if you're reading this your oc was at the party. whether they liked it or not)

[estcaligo]

Can't stop thinking about how Silver and Sebek's lives are so different, even during their college days.

(Canon info) ** (this post is about Sebek x Prefect btw)**

Silver’s life outside of studies: training, training, napping, club activities, napping, helping Lilia, more training, napping, training.

Sebek's life outside of studies:

training

club activities

checking on horses on cold days

going to karaoke with friends

reading books on various topics

eating out with friends

having sleepovers with friends

attending live music performances

visiting bookshops in town

visiting the barber's in town (twice a month)

writings letters to his family

helping his friends with assignments

Saving the Prefect from falling chairs, holding the Prefect's hand, drinking tea with the Prefect, training the Prefect, complimenting how good the Prefect looks in new outfits, telling stories (about Malleus) to the Prefect, recommending books to the Prefect, bringing more food to the Prefect, dancing with the Prefect, showing off his new merch to the Prefect, sharing his cooking with the Prefect, discussing art with the Prefect. -------

[deoidesign]

Hi, how did you learn to draw Steve's physique?

Ohh what a complicated thing to answer...

When it comes to how I learned to draw anything, it's hard to say anything too specific since it's always a culmination of many years of assorted study and practice... but I can try to do my best to explain some of the biggest things that helped me learn, some tips I keep in mind, and maybe at least some places to start/delve further.

(just a little disclaimer it's not like my drawings here are going to be 100% medically accurate.. they're just to illustrate concepts!)

The main thing about learning various physiques is understanding anatomy. Which feels obvious, but I don't mean proportions; these are important, but perhaps more important is understanding the skeleton and how it moves and learning where muscles connect to bones and where fat grows on the body. When you understand how these function on a more mechanical level, depicting form and movement in a way that feels natural comes in tow.

For instance, understanding things like the pronation and supination of the radius and ulna, as well as the fact that muscles can ONLY contract or relax, will help you understand a bit better which muscles will be flexed and which will not while someone moves. It's inherent to the positioning based on the structural makeup of the body... It's not like you NEED to memorize all the muscles and bones, of course, but understanding and gaining at least a passive familiarity with the concepts really helps.

In tandem with this concept is the way parts of the body flow into eachother. Muscles ALWAYS come in groups because they can only contract. Whatever muscle is there to lift something, there is a muscle on the other side to pull that bone back down. What this results in is a series of straight edges next to curves, which gives us a lot of really lovely "s curves" and dents and folds and so on and so forth just naturally occurring.

I would suggest at least learning the "bony landmarks", which are bones (usually) visible on the surface of the body. things like the iliac crest, the great trochanter, the 7th vertabrae, the acromion process... These can be used to help you understand the parts of the body as angles and relationships, rather than trying to remember lengths and sizes, which vary immensely... (since you asked about steve, he can be our model... also study these on your own don't just take my word for it haha, these are the ones I personally keep in mind)

I've done the same thing with body hair... learning where it grows and in which directions... It helps me make up variations without needing reference, because I have a set of rules I can follow.

The biggest thing that helped me understand all this on a much deeper level was my ecorche course. I sculpted this guy. We started by sculpting the entire skeleton to understand the bones, and then we added muscles on top. Not every single muscle, of course, but the "artistic muscles" AKA the ones which directly affect the surface of the body. Doing this let us see where muscles connect, because we would make a shape, put it on the bone where it actually goes, and then you get to see how other muscles overlap that.

This helped me, perhaps, more than anything else. But I also didn't just start with this course, I had been drawing for years before I even took it. I had been in school for years before I took it. Not that I think it wouldn't be helpful to someone just starting out, but I do think that the more you know going in, the better an in-depth course like this will help you and stick with you. Classes are also expensive, though so I'm not really like... recommending you pay potentially thousands of dollars to take one... But it did help me a lot, personally.

I also, of course, have done many figure, gesture, and master studies...

These just help you quickly gain a stronger understanding of generalized anatomy, and gives you real life examples of and practice with of how people move and balance.

What all this does when combined, is gives me a very solid ability to depict movement and form in a way that feels relatively natural from my subconscious without the need for reference.

The rest of how I've learned to draw his physique is honestly mostly just stylization. I understand the body, and this is how I am depicting it for his level of musculature.

And as I move into depicting him in other ways, either moving in comics or in animation, realistically rendered, or extra stylized, these concepts inform every step of that process for me! When he keeps the same/similar relationships between parts, he gets to still look like himself.

It ALSO really helps when putting clothes on, because the way cloth falls and bunches and lifts is all directly related to the form it is on... So the more you understand that form, the more you can depict clothing and movement in a way that feels natural.

This is all, of course, true when I draw anyone, you asked about Steve so I'm trying to mostly show with him! But because I'm just drawing from raw information of general anatomy rather than trying to study one body type at a time, it allows a lot more "give," I think!

Like, here's most of the cast from TTA so far... actually, they're not as varied as I thought they were nevermind LMAO ignore this part

But, it also makes monster and alien design much easier! It's a lot easier to come up with non-human anatomy when I understand human anatomy, because I can manipulate the knowledge I have...

There is infinite more to study in the world of anatomy... The complexity of the human body goes extremely deep. For our purposes as artists, we need only depict a fraction of it, but more information rarely hurts the process.

I'm sure there's something in here that's wrong on a technical level, I'm mostly going off of memory. But that's kind of my point - I understand enough generally and conceptually that when I am missing something and need to find reference for it, I understand what I'm looking at. It's much easier than trying to learn AND draw at the same time.

I hope even one thing in here helped you! Sorry it's so long.

[littledead-ridinghood]

I have personal beef with Lobdell's "hence the name, Red Hood" panel when Jason picks up that poor, abused dog in RH:O. Which logically I know is an off the cuff joke but 1. Lobdell likes to simplify Jason and his motives all the time (which he could’ve been doing here) 2. I’ve seen a lot of people say they don’t get why/the connection/deeper meaning/etc. Jason picked his name or 3. people who want Jason to drop RH & pick up a new vigilante identity without (or before) Jason getting his full circle closure

(First: can Jason please have a companion again. And can they be given a real name this time? Not Lobdell’s lazy out? Give that man another dog or fuxk, let him pick up a cat that was abandoned in the rain. Please???)

anyway, main attraction:

Within that spread, Scott Lobdell wrote that Jason picked the name because he's awful at naming things and went with the most basic, obvious choice, Red Hood. This is an incredible disservice to why Jason chose to take his mantle specifically.

Imagine you're Batman, a fledgling vigilante who abides by a strict no-kill moral code. It's your first or so year manning the streets of a massive, corrupt city--Gotham--and you still aren't fully sure of what you're doing. The criminal underworld still isn't even convinced you're real. One of the first big cases you bust, a man who calls himself the Red Hood, dies. you play accomplice to the man falling into a vat of chemicals even as you try to save him. He dies. You killed a man due to your own mistakes.

But you didn't. Not really.

The man comes back under a new name--the Joker--and becomes one of your most prominent enemies. The guilt eats you alive. You dub him your greatest failure. The guilt complex and strengthened moral platitudes refuse to let him die, let alone kill the man. Only "saving him" will relieve you of the grief. Your guilt, your grief, God, your god complex, something is too big for you to admit you can't save everyone including the problems you inadvertently create.

You take in a boy, a ward--Dick Grayson--because the city won’t let a single bachelor like Brucie Wayne adopt him. You’re his brother, you’re his spandex-wearing partner, you’re not his father (he has a father, he doesn’t want you to be his father) but you’re also not not his father; it’s complicated. You didn't want him to turn into you and he creates his own mantle--Robin--to honor his parents.

You and him are partners for many years--Batman and Robin: The Dynamic Duo. Until, one day, The Joker shoots him in the shoulder and he falls off a building on live TV. The city’s populace is upheaved, believing Robin is dead. Demanding Batman be held responsible for his negligence, for even having a underaged partner in the first place. You agree. The field is no place for a child, you decide to keep him so. Robin, the child, is dead, killed by the Joker. Dick Grayson, now a man, is alive and blazing his own trail--Nightwing.

So one child-to-man moves on. And one stays behind. Weeks, months, pass and, you refuse to admit it, you're lonely.

You find another boy--Jason Todd (found in the same location and on the anniversary your parents were murdered in the part of town you only visit once a year)--stealing your tires. Not Bruce Wayne's tires. Batman's tires. He makes you laugh, audaciously so. He takes you down with a tire jack and, God, he’s fast and feisty. (He thought you were going to kill him. You don’t loiter on the thought: it makes your stomach turn). You track him down to retrieve your tires. He tells you he doesn't want to be a criminal, he takes what he needs to survive. He's starving.

You try to stay out of it (all you do is check what happened to his missing dad--murdered--and sick mom--heroin was what got her in the end). You push him towards education. He doesn't trust the cops. He doesn't trust the system. He doesn't trust adults. He hardly trusts you. He tells you about a case, that the school is bad, but believes you only half listen--brush him off like every other person in his life. You follow up. He follows up.

You ask him to be Robin. He accepts.

Later, you adopt him.

Dick's mad at you for giving away his title without asking, to a child nonetheless. (“You said the field was no place for a child!”) You snap at him, say you missed him. (You keep telling Gordan that Jason's no child. That he's seen too much, is more experienced than either of them combined. You don't say this to Dick).

He leaves but he gives Jason his number and his blessing. The kid's torn up about it, you can tell (see the doubt eat him alive of if he should be wearing those colors. Your butler? Your father?--Alfred--tells you to stop comparing the boys--good or not).

That doubt sticks with him. That past experience sticks with him. He urges you to help the poorer parts of the city, especially the places where Batman only visits once a year (The first time he goes back after getting Jason isn’t as bad as all the times before). He fights for his people. He’s tied to Gotham in ways you aren’t. Sees things you don’t. Knows things you don’t. People who can’t stand you, love him.

You keep hearing him crying over his dead mother and watch him lose it against rapists. He advocated for the woman that killed the man who murdered 12 women including her sister even though Batman and Robin aren’t supposed to endorse extra judicial work like that. He breaks a man’s collarbone for taking pictures of naked children. He thinks the “Dress-ups” won’t ever stop because Batman’s only weapon is fear and they aren’t afraid. He once said life’s a game. Monopoly, Bruce assumes he means.

Drugs are easier than rape to catch a man on, and the boy is furious that the perpetrator is only being sent back to his home country. ("he'll just hurt the women over there! He won't stop!" He's in hysterics).

A young woman is dead. The boy found her body. A man falls to his death a man is pushed to his death is dead. The boy was the last one to be with him. You bench him, but you forget that you asked him to be Robin first and a son second.

He runs away. A birth mom--Shelia Haywood, you eventually learn. He's missing. It has to wait. The Joker's out again. You have to prevent your greatest failure from becoming bigger. (He shot Barbara earlier this year)

You leave the boy with his birth mom by the warehouse. You have to go after the Joker. The Joker has killed and killed and killed. Will continue to kill. The boy is dead. He killed the boy. The mother says he was good. He's nothing more than broken bones and mangled limbs. She's...not.

Your greatest failure murdered your boy. His body’s already getting cold when you find hi—the body. The corpse. You hold it. Because it’s an it now, not a him.

You go after the Joker. The pilot is shot. You don't try to kill the Joker, but you don't bring him with you as you jump. The helicopter crashes. You don't even think he's dead; unresolved as per usual.

You failed to protect him. You failed. And he’s dead.

Superman pulls you from the ocean.

You go home and Alfred meets you once you get off the plane. He tells you it's not your fault, the boy had it coming. The murdered boy--a Good Solider, buried next to his bio-mother in Gotham Cemetery--is dubbed your new biggest failure.

Dick's in space and would miss the funeral, so you decide instead to not tell him there was a funeral at all. At least someone will still think Jason’s alive. At least someone will keep Jason alive through their belief. It’s not like Dick’ll find out. They weren’t that close anyway (Dick & Jason or you & him?)

When Dick does eventually find out, because of course he obviously does, he's furious. It's the first time you punch your first Robin. (You don't know it yet, but it won't be the last time, not for Dick and not for some other so-called family members.)

Robin is dead. Far deader than Dick Grayson ever was. He did it to himself. He thought it was a game. Dick doesn’t get it. He was better. He was alive.

(You can’t admit he’s become your son out loud. Hardly even in your head. It’s fine. Dick is the same about your fatherhood. Like father, like son)

You blame it on Jason's death. It changed you. He changed you. It's his fault. Everyone follows suit.

You leave the Joker in a body cast for six months. He gets out again. Luckily you have a new Robin--Tim Drake. He's not Jason. You can see it in his eyes that he knows that's a good thing. Gotham doesn’t even know the second one is dead. They believe Tim’s second one. Gordan even asked if he’s finally hit his growth spurt. 4’6 the death certificate said. That’s okay. No one needs to knows.

(Park Row Crime Alley knows. They know who’s theirs and who isn’t. Batman and Robin aren’t welcomed down there anymore)

(The first anniversary you visit your parents yours and his first meeting spot after Jason’s death feels like Ethiopia all over again)

A blonde girl is Robin now--Stephanie Brown. You tell her she's like Jason. She can tell you mean it as a bad thing but never processes it through her mind. You're trying to lure Tim back. A city-wide gang war wrecks Gotham. She's dead. Tortured by Black Mask and died on the operation table.

There's talk around the underworld, unified under Black Mask, a new gang leader's been making waves for months. You just heard about him tonight (a duffle bag full of heads told you): The Red Hood. You know that name. It’s a punch to the gut. Your first failure.

(“You’re getting slow, old man!)

He did what you've been trying to do for years in a matter of weeks: He overtook the entire Gotham underworld. He’s running circles around everyone. He pits you against the underground, keeps you busy, and he gets what he needs to be done Scot-Free. You hardly ever see him around. Only when he wants you to see him, do you. You don’t like things you aren’t in control of.

He doesn't want anyone dealing to kids. He likes bombs, but they're contained. Implosions, not explosions. He kills and is on par with Batman himself (he cut himself free of your line). Red Hood hangs around Crime Alley ("Park Row!" Jason would always respond), but no one there will rat him out to The Batman. They won't talk to you. Some of them even seem to...like having the Red Hood around.

He’s managed to bring down the crime rate of the entire city. Somehow.

It's raining. You can't tell. Jason's alive.

Jason's. Alive.

Jason'salivejason'salivejason'salivejason'salivejason'saliveason'salivejason'sal--

Jason's alive.

And he's killing people. And he's spitting in the face of your "sanctimonious" moral code. He laughed at you when he murdered someone in front of you. ("Just be happy I only killed the Nazi!") You tell him he doesn't get it. He responds the same.

(“You can't stop crime," he says along the lines of "Not with fear. But me...I'm controlling it.")

Jason's never had enough fear.

And now he's crying with a gun to his murderer's head. He says he’s not talking about the other rogues, just him. Just the Joker. He throws you a gun. You won't do it--can't do it. You need to save the Joker. To prove that you can. You need to save Jason. To show him this isn't the way. You can't have any more failures.

(“He took me from you!”)

Jason's going to do it himself, he says. "If you want to stop me, you're going to have to shoot me. Right in the face."

You can't let anyone die. You can't let the Joker die. It's your mission. There's so much blood. The batarang had to have had to knick the carotid artery in his neck. No one could survive it. The Joker is cackling with glee. You hear it in the walls of your skull. The bomb goes off. You don’t hear that at all.

Oh God. You killed your so—

You’re still gone, you think

You see Jason on patrol sometimes. High collar and still branding himself as Red Hood. There’s a red bat on his chest now. You don’t think it’s a compliment. The East End loves him. Jason still can't let the Joker go. Can’t—won’t move on.

Not till he's dead he says.

Take a moment to imagine yourself as a fledgling vigilante--Batman.

— — —

Anyway my meta turned into a 2nd POV fic????? but like that's not the point. The point is: That’s the impact of why Jason chose the name he did. It’s important to me that you all recognize these full-circle story beats. Do you see my vision?

Jason planned everything when he made his big debut. You don't think that dramatic-ass bastard thought about the name? Jason is mocking Bruce: both his fears and failures as a vigilante.

But that throwaway line is one of those really minor details that really bug me because it's so easy to throw out a panel and say “Jason's bad at naming things Haha" It's much harder to commit to "show, not tell" where writers have to trust their readers to get between the lines and figure out long-term connections.

As well as it's just another way Lobdell undermines Jason's goals in UtRH by saying "He couldn't think of anything else" compared to Winick's Jason who is laughing and mocking Bruce by taking up the mantle of Red Hood. Showing he's not afraid of what happened to him. Spitting in the face of the world that burned him and yelling “I’m still here!” Owning it. He's not afraid of Bruce. And he's definitely not afraid of the Joker.

I want Jason to get a new identity one day too but to do so before Jason ever gets his joker closure cuts his story short. (Which is a creative way of saying it’s never gonna happen unfortunately). I think if he gets one before he finishes the story and closes the cycle, it would be the final nail in the “Jason’s a batfamily member” coffin as it would probably be written as “Jason seeing the error of his ways” rather than for himself moving on to heal for himself.

[askblueandviolet]

Tú, alcalde. ¿Hablas español? Eso sería genial :D

"Yes, I know many languages! Mandarin, cantonese, english, brazilian, french, italian, and of course, spanish!"

MASTER POST

Asks Start 💙💜

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[moonfromearth]

On Repeat - an oc tag by @elderwisp

"rules are pretty simple, pick as many (or as little) oc's as you'd like and find a song that you relate to them the most! feel free to mention why too! o and tag some more ppl too! that would be cool!"

I may have gone a little overboard 😅 To be honest this tag came around at just the right time! I'd just gotten a new song association and have been working on schoolwork so much that I really needed to do something creative 😆

Originally these were all going to be in similar editing styles (more like Corey's) but somewhere along the way that stopped because I had different ideas that I really wanted to do. Also I cheated a little and a few got more than one song... 🤫

I'm really proud with all of these in the end, and if you want to read more about the stories behind them you can check below the cut! ❤️

I know I'm pretty late to the party now buuut I'll tag: @igglemouse @swiftviolets @stargazer-sims @auspexsims and @seniorpollinationtechnician. Feel free to ignore though if you've already done it/don't want to! 😁

[deep dive under cut!]

COREY ALTMAN

"Holiday" - Green Day:

This song being here is random song association at its finest. The trail pretty much goes "Holiday" by Green Day > Surf's Up > Beach Vibes > Sulani > Globetrotter Challenge > Corey Song. If that makes sense... 😂 Pretty much, you can blame the Sulani round of the Globetrotter Challenge for it, plus the fact that I feel like it's the type of song/genre Corey would use in his own music.

"Catch Me If You Can" - Set It Off:

Now, it would be a crime to talk about songs and Corey without a song by Set It Off. Corey was created when I was listening to their songs a lot, and it definitely rubbed off on him. From his aesthetic to the songs I imagine him playing, a lot of it came from Set It Off. Even his name was derived from the band's lead singer (although changed from Cody to Corey because that's the route my mind took with it idk). So, this song in particular specifically reminds me of Corey for... Honestly probably obvious reasons 😆 "Catch Me If You Can" was pretty much the theme of his Globetrotter Challenge, where he was constantly moving on the run from the law. A line I really like though for him is the part that says, "I only feel at home when I'm on the run," because I feel like that leads into the deeper aspects of Corey. He really isn't at home anywhere, he's always on the move, even when he's not evading capture anymore. There's a certain non-permanence to everything he does. Something funny about the image itself is that it originally wasn't going to be edited to look like the back cover of a CD. When I took the picture of Corey with the guitar I kind of thought "this looks like the back cover of a CD" and when editing I just needed a way to fill the space at the bottom and it turned into a CD back cover edit 🤣 It actually kind of fits though since both of these songs are the sound I associate with Corey's own music so it worked out in the end.

LIZZY ALTMAN

"Unopened Windows" - Set It Off:

So this one is the context behind this post lol. It's been like two years since I started working on this plotline I have to finish it eventually 😆 Anyway, Lizzy's been teased in many tag games so far, but without a name or much information (note: and this name's not final I'm not sure yet). Here you can probably guess based on the song choice how her story goes 😅 Going back to the epilogue of the Globetrotter Challenge, we see that something is going on, and it leads to Lizzy and her dad being separated. So, the entire song lyrically I really felt spoke to them and their situation (more in a future gameplay 😉). Bonus points for it being a Set It Off song, who I associate with Corey, and thought music could have been something that they bonded over and enjoyed together. I have a few things to say about the image itself because it was a struggle but I looooove how it turned out! It turned out essentially how I imagined it with Lizzy playing guitar in the foreground with a sort of memory of her time with her dad in the background. I probably had about five or six different poses that I put in the background because I couldn't decide which one I liked the best 😆 This was the last image I had to work on out of the four, and I was having trouble with how I wanted the song title to look. While I was browsing for overlays and stuff I came across a lot of cutout style poems and ended up adding in some of the lyrics because I thought it would help explain the concept behind the image. In the end this one is one of my favorites which is unbelievable considering how much I thought it was not going to turn out like I imagined 🥰

*UNNAMED*

(Sorry I don't have a name for her yet and don't want to commit to a temporary one 😭)

"Little Chaos" - Orla Gartland:

In a wonderfully serendipitous coincidence, this was the song association I was very into when getting tagged, and was already planning what became this edit! I rarely have song associations for sims/sims stories (despite how many ended up coming together here) so that's why I'll never get over how well timed this all was (thanks again elderwisp!!) On to the song, it has to do with my upcoming gameplay story centered around the For Rent game pack, and starring the pictured sim (who doesn't have a name yet sorry! 😅). She's going through a bit of a tough time where she's very lost and I thought the lines, "And it's a good day for a meltdown. All my thoughts getting too loud," fit really where she's at, especially at the start. Plus, the vibes are perfect. The image itself was inspired by the song's MV and one part in particular, but it looks a lot different now (I was limited by the poses I could find because I refuse to sit down and learn to make my own yet). I liked this idea of the torn pages framing the image, especially because it plays into the plot, which sees the main character do a lot of journaling throughout the story. So, the lined paper had to do with that, and it doubled as being good for making the letters stand out, which I wanted to be big and misaligned to be more "chaotic," though I think that could have been done more/better. Aaaaand the background is a picture of Tomarang, where the story takes place. To be honest this will probably be the cover image once I finalize a name and get started on playing it 😉

GHOST COWBOY

(no he also doesn't have a name yet same as above 😆)

"Ferryman" - Schafer James and Will Wood:

I've actually been having a lot of fun with this character since initially creating him back before the Horse Ranch pack came out (more on him coming out in a few days for the outlaw challenge 😉). So this song.... The entire concept of our ghost cowboy is that he, being somewhat half dead and half alive, winds up being a good source of convincing "unwilling souls" to cross over, and works with the character Death to do so in exchange for finding out why he's not entirely dead. I'll explain it better another time, but I also really love this song and just thought that the concept of the ferryman and the ghost cowboy as ferriers of the dead.

"Toss A Coin To Your Witcher (Epic Version)" - Samuel Kim and Black Gryph0n:

Liiiiisten... My family made me watch three seasons of The Witcher I had to get something out of it 😆 I joke a lot that this character gives off Geralt vibes but honestly they are definitely super similar just based on their overall aesthetic and horse companions. I wanted to be special though and chose this epic cover instead of the original... Just for fun 😁 There were some cool piano covers too that almost made the cut. This is probably a good place to talk about the actual image (yay!). I hope the visibility on it isn't too bad because it ended up waaaay more cluttered than I originally intended, plus the mist effect definitely makes it harder to see the characters. I made his (also unnamed) horse a little more transparent to try and give off this ghostly see through effect so I hope that comes through. The font isn't the kind of "wild west wanted sign" font that I wanted, but I think it's close enough lol.

Credits:

Image by rawpixel.com on Freepik

[raayllum]

If these heights should bring my fall Let me be your own Icarian carrion

[ray935sworld]

I feel like Bez would randomly drop really interesting stories and facts about historical events, movements, the impact of aids, different kind of people and moments regarding LGBTQ rights/ depiction during pride month and the academy just nodding along, asking questions and smiling kindly at him like... Yeah, Bezzy. We know and we will love you forever and regardless of what gender you date unless you're bringing home that Spanish twink than boy you better sleep with an eye open at the ranch or that cock those curls are gone

[suprababka]

NO!! It wasn’t asked because you haven’t written a lot— you have!!! I’m just super looking forward to a lot of the prompts (I’m a sucker for the hurt comfort that specifically comes from safeword use so I’m v excited for that)

Haha, I'm happy to hear it, thank you!😁💓 I was just half-joking (or was I?)😉 (sorry, I couldn't not have reference to this meme) I feel you though. I'm SO EXCITED to do and write many things, but alas, my university and work consume too much time and strength :((((( (I'm sucker for hurt/comfort as well😚) So yeah, I guess we all have to be patient😊

*this is me being sad because I really want to complete requests and start publishing headcanons, but unfortunately, not everything goes like we want to:

[manasurge]

GW2 VS Art Party (oct), of Laerling for @sylvaridreams!! Damaaaa, I loved your pretty icey sylvari!!! They're so cool!!! (metaphorically and physically). Sorry I got a bit carried away and took some artistic liberties~ I gave them icicles and their encased root hair crown into ice as well (based on a really pretty weather phenomenon I've seen irl).

[capn-twitchery]

twitch please mr fires just got blasted by the forbidden magic alphabet can you have some sympathy

(context: i haven't stopped thinking about this ingame thing still. what kind of fucking duo is this)

[floydmtalbert]

Tab + “nostalgia” from this prompts list, for @shoshiwrites

It is a hot, still evening in late August. The war has been over for a year.

Floyd steers the pickup onto a dusty side road skirting the edge of a cornfield, driving slowly, heading nowhere in particular. He holds the wheel loosely with one hand; the other hangs out of the open window. The lowering sun is warm on his forearm and on the side of his face, and glaring bright, so that he has to narrow his eyes as he stares through the dirty windshield down the road ahead, stretching away into a heat haze along the horizon.

There are no other cars on the road, no houses or farms in sight. No people. Just the cornfield, flashing yellow-green past the window, and the road ahead, long and straight, rippling in the heat. Everything quiet and lifeless, save for the pickup, the hum of the tyres on the asphalt and the rumble of the engine.

The mail that morning had brought a letter from Bill Guarnere, chatty, containing a photo of Frannie and their baby boy, and full of updates on other Easy men and plans for a reunion. Floyd can’t see the point. A bunch of fellas sitting around talking about the good old days, when they weren’t all that good, and aren’t exactly old, either.

He huffs a long sigh, makes a slight adjustment to the steering wheel. Maybe it’s only him that thinks that way.

Floyd came home nearly a year ago and picked up where he left off. He sleeps in his childhood bedroom, under the old patchwork quilt his great-aunt made, with his high school basketball trophies still on the shelf, dutifully dusted by Nellie Talbert every week, and all the old photographs pinned to the corkboard: himself as a ten-year-old with the family dog, him and his father fishing on Lake Michigan during the one vacation his parents had been able to afford, photobooth snapshots with girlfriends, all married, now, or gone to Indianapolis for work. A few months back he’d even found a bunch of dirty magazines hidden in a box under the bed, a relic of his teenage years. He’d burned them in the backyard, and filled the box instead with his medal ribbons, and his jump wings, all the patches and chevrons, and other bits and pieces, and the bundle of photographs he never looks at but still can’t bear to throw out, and kicked it back under the bed.

He turns onto another road, the pickup bumping over a pothole. The sun is behind him now. He drives past a couple of ramshackle houses, and, further on down the road, a farmhouse, with a barn and a cluster of grain silos. The road is long and straight and level, but he takes it easy. No hurry, nowhere to go.

Major Winters writes now and then—and that’s another thing, Floyd can’t stop thinking of him as Major Winters, even though the man keeps telling him to call him Dick. He’s working in New Jersey, with Captain Nixon, has already been promoted once. Chuck is doing better, working, seeing a nice girl. Joe Liebgott is getting married—or is maybe already married by now. His latest letter sits in Floyd’s bedside drawer, unopened. Smokey calls every couple of weeks, talking about using the GI Bill to go to college.

Floyd got his old job back with Mr Nelson, doing odd jobs on the farm, and in the evenings he takes his dad’s Chevy and heads out for a drive, alone, going nowhere in particular. Sometimes he circles the reservoir, watching the changing colours of the sky reflected in the water. Sometimes he drives through the suburbs on the other side of town, where the houses are tidy and painted fresh white, and have big wraparound porches and garages, and trees on the lawn out front. Other times he heads east, taking one road after another through the acres of farmland, left turn, right turn, zigzagging out and around and back on himself. Just driving, and smoking, sometimes drinking, half a bottle of whisky in a paper bag that he tosses out before he gets home.

In the rearview mirror the sun is a deep orange, flaring along the horizon.

He tries to think of what a reunion would be like. He imagines a big room in some hotel, with a dance floor, and tables set up around it. Maybe there’d be coloured paper garlands strung along the walls and across the ceiling, like they did for his high school prom, or the USO dances in England. He imagines all the fellas there, with their wives in cocktail dresses, and pictures of their kids in their wallets, catching each other up on their jobs, and their houses, and the new car. Or else their college classes, the cute girls on campus, the fraternity parties. And then the talk would turn to the war, d’you remember when and I’ll never forget that time, the jokes and the hijinks and everything else tucked away and the whole thing a big adventure, and done with, in the past.

Floyd slows the pickup and guides it carefully over a culvert. The engine chugs.

He doesn’t want to remember the war, but he can’t seem to move on from it, either. He sleeps in his old room, and works the same job he was doing at eighteen, and after work he drives around aimlessly, with nothing to do and nowhere to go. He’s tired, bored. Mostly he’s angry: at everything, and everyone, and himself most of all.

Maybe it would be good to see the guys again, he thinks as he turns onto another road. Just once. Maybe then he could get it out of his system. Snap out of it, stop holding himself back.

Twilight is falling now, and the air is soft and warm. Floyd switches on the headlights and keeps his eyes on the road ahead, dusty, uneven, patched asphalt revealed in the wobbling beam of light, and glances up now and then to watch the colours fade from the western sky.

He wouldn’t go, he decides. There was nothing to say, nothing worth remembering. He props his elbow up on the sill, and then hangs his hand out of the window again, feeling the air stream through his open fingers.