#Last time I'm doing complicated backgrounds though.

[lunaswicked]

Sweet Talk

Paring: College!Jimmy Uso x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Two roommates— You and Jimmy—find yourselves caught in a whirlwind of tension, desire, and unspoken feelings. What begins as teasing and frustration between you evolves into a night of unexpected intimacy that blurs the lines between hate and attraction.

Tags: enemies to smutville😫, roommates, 18+, p in v, teasing, dirty talking, 9 incher jimmy uso, dickstressing, AND WHATEVER ELSE, ENJOY😋

You and Jimmy rarely saw eye to eye. It wasn’t that you outright despised each other, but the two of you had a way of constantly butting heads over the smallest things. Maybe it was because you were both stubborn, or maybe it was because neither of you ever backed down from an argument. Either way, there was always a tension between you—one that never seemed to fade no matter how much time passed.  

Both of you were college students, navigating your own paths, yet your lifestyles couldn’t have been more different. You poured yourself into your studies, determined to excel in every class, while Jimmy had an almost single-minded obsession with football—both playing it and watching it. If he wasn’t on the field, he was glued to the screen, yelling at players who couldn’t hear him or analyzing plays with the kind of intensity most people reserved for final exams.  

When he wasn’t fixated on football, he’d be locked in his room, spending hours on whatever video game he and his twin brother, Jey, were obsessed with that month. It was almost impossible to get a word in when he was deep in competition mode, his focus unwavering as he trash-talked through his headset. Sometimes, it felt like college itself was just a background noise in his life, something he did because he had to—not because he cared.  

But despite all of that, you knew Jimmy was smart. In fact, he was one of the smartest people you knew, even if he didn’t always act like it. He had a sharp mind, a quick wit, and an ability to break things down in a way that made even the most complicated subjects seem simple. The problem was, hardly anyone ever got to see that side of him. He didn’t apply himself the way he could have, and more often than not, he played the role of the carefree guy who only lived for football and video games.  

"I'm not going. I got lab tomorrow," you said into your phone, shifting against the pillows as you tucked yourself deeper into bed.  

Bianca groaned dramatically on the other end. "Girl, you always busy! Every time I call, it's the same thing—lab this, assignment that. And don’t even get me started on how you be stuck in that house with Jimmy all the damn time."  

You rolled your eyes, even though she couldn’t see you. "First of all, I am not stuck with Jimmy. We just happen to live in the same space. Not like I have a choice."  

"Uh-huh, sure. And yet, every time I ask you to come out, you got an excuse, and he's always somewhere in the background, being annoying," Bianca shot back. "One day, imma just pull up and kidnap you, no warning."  

You laughed, shaking your head. "And do what? Drag me out in my pajamas? Not happening."  

"Don’t test me. I’ll snatch you right up, bonnet and all," she teased. "Seriously, though. You need a break. When’s the last time you had fun? Like, actual fun. Not school, not arguing with Jimmy—fun."  

You hesitated, chewing on your lip. It had been a while since you let loose, but between school, deadlines, and dealing with Jimmy’s daily antics, going out just felt like another task on your already overflowing to-do list.  

"Exactly," Bianca said, as if she could hear your thoughts through the phone. "Look, just think about it. Even geniuses like you need a night off."  

You sighed, glancing toward your closed bedroom door, where you could still faintly hear Jimmy and Jey shouting at their game. "I’ll think about it."  

"That’s what you said last time," Bianca huffed. "I ain't falling for it again. You better show up, or I will come get you."  

You smiled, shaking your head. "We’ll see, B. We’ll see."  

She let out an exaggerated groan but didn’t push it further. "Fine, but don’t think I’m letting this go. I’ll call you tomorrow, and you better give me a yes."  

"Goodnight, Bianca," you said, smirking.  

"Mmhm, whatever. Goodnight, miss I got lab."  

You hung up, staring at the ceiling with a small smile. Maybe she had a point.

Your stomach let out an impatient grumble, loud enough to make you sigh in frustration. You hadn’t eaten in hours, and at this point, there was only one thing that could fix it—a slice of your favorite vanilla cake with extra whipped cream. The thought alone was enough to get you out of bed, pushing aside your tiredness as you made your way down the hall toward the kitchen.

The house was quieter than usual, with only the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant noise of the TV from the living room. Normally, Jimmy would be in there, glued to whatever game had his attention for the night, but the lack of his usual shouting made you pause. Maybe he had finally gone to bed for once? That would be a miracle.

But as soon as you stepped into the kitchen, that hope vanished.

Standing by the open fridge, fork in hand, was Jimmy—mid-bite, chewing your cake like he didn’t have a single care in the world. Wearing a fitted black shirt with yellow shorts that showed too much thigh.

You stopped dead in your tracks, your brain needing an extra second to process the sheer disrespect of what you were witnessing.

"You gotta to be fucking wit' me," you said, your voice flat.

Jimmy turned his head slowly, fork still in his mouth, his expression completely unbothered. He raised an eyebrow as he chewed, finally swallowing before answering. "What?"

Your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you stared him down. "That was my cake, Jimmy."

He had the nerve to glance down at the plate in his hand, then back up at you with a smirk. "You sure about that?"

You let out an exasperated breath, stepping closer. "Yes, I’m sure. I’ve been thinking about that cake all damn day. It was the last slice!"

Jimmy shrugged, taking another slow, deliberate bite, as if to rub it in. "Was the last slice. Past tense."

Your jaw dropped. "You are actually the worst person I know."

He chuckled, licking a bit of whipped cream off his fork. "Damn. All this over some cake?"

You threw up your hands. "Jimmy, I needed that cake."

"You needed it?" he repeated, clearly amused. "You make it sound like life or death."

"It is!" you shot back. "I’ve had a long day, and all I wanted was to sit down, enjoy my damn cake, and go to bed happy. But noooo, because somebody just had to be greedy."

Jimmy leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking entirely too entertained. "Sounds like a you problem. You shoulda got here faster or sum."

"Or you could’ve just not eaten something that wasn’t yours," you snapped.

He shrugged again. "You ain't put yo name on it."

Your eye twitched. "We don’t do that in this house, Jimmy. Because normal people have respect."

Jimmy let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes as he scooped up a piece of cake with his fork. Slowly, deliberately, he strolled toward you, a smug smirk playing on his lips.  

“Here,” he said, holding the fork out in front of you, the fluffy vanilla cake and whipped cream practically taunting you. “You wanna bite?”  

Your arms folded over your chest, and you scoffed, giving him a sharp glare. “I’d rather die before I eat off of you,” you shot back, your voice dripping with defiance.  

Jimmy chuckled, tilting his head as he took another step closer. “Dramatic much?” he teased.  

You held your ground, eyes locked onto his, but the way he was staring at you—intense, playful, like he was daring you—sent a strange shiver down your spine. 

He took another step, closing the space between you, his free hand lazily slipping into the pocket of his shorts. He was close now, too close. You could smell the faint mix of his cologne and the sweet vanilla lingering on his breath.  

��What’s wrong?” he murmured, voice low, taunting. “Scared you’ll like it?”  

Your stomach tightened, but you forced yourself to scoff again, turning your head to the side. “Please, as if.”  

Jimmy let out a soft chuckle, lifting the fork slightly. “Then prove it.”  

You swallowed, glancing at the fork, then back at him. His eyes held something unreadable—dark amusement, challenge. You could feel your own stubbornness warring with the stupid, undeniable craving in your stomach.  

Your eyes flicked back to the cake, the whipped cream looking way too good to pass up.  

He smirked, sensing your hesitation. “C’mon, I ain't got all night,” he murmured, voice smooth, teasing.  

You clenched your jaw, irritation flaring, but your hunger was stronger than your pride. Damn it.  

With an exasperated sigh, you snatched his wrist, steadying his hand as you leaned in. You hesitated for half a second before finally parting your lips and taking the bite off the fork, your tongue barely brushing against the metal.  

Jimmy stilled.  

Your eyes flicked up to his as you pulled away, chewing slowly, the sweet vanilla and cream melting on your tongue.  

For a moment, neither of you spoke.  

His expression darkened just slightly, his smirk fading into something slower, heavier. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips as he stared at you, watching the way your lips closed around the fork before you finally pulled back.  

Something about the look in his eyes sent a heat crawling up your neck, your stomach twisting in a way that had nothing to do with the cake.  

You swallowed, shifting on your feet. “Happy now?” you muttered.  

Jimmy’s smirk returned, slow and knowing. He tilted his head, his voice dropping an octave.  

“Could’ve just said you wanted a taste,” he murmured.  

Your breath hitched, but you quickly covered it with an eye roll, shoving his wrist away as you stepped back.  

“Shut up, Jimmy.”  

He let out a low chuckle, his smirk never fading as he twirled the fork between his fingers. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark amusement mixed with something else—something heavier, something that made your pulse tick faster than it should have.  

"You act like you hate me," he murmured, stepping just a fraction closer, his body heat now palpable. "But here you go, eatin' off my fork."  

Your throat felt dry, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes. "I was starving, Jimmy. Don’t flatter yourself."  

He tilted his head slightly, eyes flickering between your lips and your gaze, his smirk deepening. "Mmm, nah. I think you just wanted to see what I taste like."  

Your breath caught, heart slamming against your ribs.  

"You are so full of yourself," you muttered, stepping back, but you barely moved an inch before he closed the gap again, this time with purpose.  

The air shifted—suffocating, electric. You could hear the faint drip of the kitchen sink, the hum of the refrigerator, but it all faded beneath the way Jimmy was watching you. Like he had all the time in the world to unravel you piece by piece.  

"You sure about that?" he murmured, voice low, velvety smooth.  

His free hand brushed against your hip—not fully touching, just ghosting over the fabric of your shorts, enough to send a shiver through you.  

You should have stepped away. Should have said something cutting, something to kill whatever this was. But your body wasn’t listening.  

Jimmy noticed.  

His smirk flickered into something darker, his fingers grazing up your waist, featherlight, testing, waiting for you to stop him.  

You didn’t.  

A slow, knowing hum left his lips. “Thought so,” he murmured, voice dropping even lower.  

Your breath came a little quicker, your skin tingling beneath his touch. Your body was betraying you, leaning into the heat of him.

His fingers finally landed on your chin, tilting it up slightly, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were unreadable—dangerous, teasing, but there was something else simmering beneath them. Something that sent your stomach twisting in the worst, best way.  

"You wanna taste somethin' sweet?" he murmured, his thumb barely brushing over your bottom lip. "I can give you more than just cake."  

Your breath hitched, fingers tightening at your sides.  

You just stood there. Frozen. Trapped under his gaze.  

Jimmy leaned in, slow enough for you to stop him, to push him away, but you didn’t. The warmth of his breath ghosted over your lips, his presence consuming every inch of space between you.  

Every nerve was alight, your breath coming shallow and uneven as Jimmy inched closer, the space between you shrinking to nothing. The scent of vanilla and his cologne wrapped around you, thick and intoxicating.  

"You gonna stop me?" he murmured, his lips barely brushing against yours as he spoke, his voice low, teasing.  

You should’ve. But you didn’t move. You couldn’t.  

His thumb dragged over your bottom lip, slow, deliberate, like he was testing you, waiting for any sign of resistance. When he found none, his smirk deepened, and then—  

His lips brushed yours.  

Not a full kiss, just a whisper of contact, enough to send a sharp jolt straight through you. Your breath hitched, and Jimmy noticed.  

"You’re shaking," he murmured, his free hand sliding up your side, fingers grazing your ribs, your waist—barely there, but enough to make your skin erupt in goosebumps.  

"I’m n-" You swallowed hard, but the words died in your throat.  

He took advantage of your hesitation, closing the distance entirely. His lips pressed against yours, slow at first, testing, teasing. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer, his body heat seeping into you, his hand tracing up your spine like he wanted to memorize every inch of you.  

The moment you responded, the moment you gave in and let your lips move against his, it was over.  

Jimmy deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip before slipping past, claiming your mouth like he had every right to. His grip turned possessive, his fingers digging into your waist as he pressed you back against the counter.  

You let out a soft gasp against his mouth, and he groaned in response, swallowing the sound like it belonged to him.  

"You taste better than that damn cake," he muttered against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip just hard enough to make your stomach flip.  

A shiver ran through you, and your fingers instinctively gripped the front of his shirt, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you upright.  

"Jimmy, we cant—" you breathed, but it came out weak, needy, nothing like the warning you meant for it to be.  

"Shhh," he murmured, his lips trailing from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. "I got you, baby."  

The nickname sent a new wave of heat through you, your body arching into him before you could think twice about it. His hands slid lower, fingers pressing into your hips, gripping you like he had no intention of letting go.  

"You still wanna act like you hate me?" he whispered against your skin, his breath hot, his voice dripping with amusement and something deeper.  

You should’ve said yes. Should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve told him this was wrong.  

But the only thing that left your lips was a soft, breathless whimper.  

Jimmy chuckled, dark and knowing.  

"Yeah," he muttered, his teeth grazing your skin before he kissed you again, slower this time, deeper. "That’s what I thought."

You knew it was a bad idea, knew you were crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, but still, you couldn’t stop. The feel of his lips against yours, the way he held you close, the pressure of his body pressing against yours—everything felt too good to resist.

You’d always found ways to make excuses, to stay just out of reach. The random times you’d bug him when you needed something opened, pretending it was just too difficult for you to handle on your own. You'd act annoyed, making a big show of how "helpless" you were, even though it was never actually hard. It was just an excuse, a reason to get him close to you. He’d always tease you about it, calling you out on how dramatic you were, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes when he did, something you’d always ignored or tried to explain away. 

Then there were the times he’d bring girls over, just to sit around in the living room, loud and carefree, as if they didn’t matter to him. The jealousy it stirred inside you was a dangerous thing. You’d play it cool, roll your eyes and pretend you didn’t care. But you did. You cared so much that it burned. It wasn’t about them, not really. It was the way he’d be with them—too casual, too friendly, not even a hint of what he shared with you. He’d stay in the living room with them for hours, laughing, talking like you weren’t there, almost like he was flaunting it. 

Every time he brought a girl around, he’d still somehow find ways to be around you. He wouldn’t let you slip away completely, not with the way he’d casually touch your arm when passing by, or the way his eyes would seek you out in a room full of people. It was almost like he wanted you to be jealous, wanted to see that spark of emotion flash in your eyes when he paid attention to someone else. But he never made a move on them. Not really. You had to wonder if he was testing you, pushing your boundaries to see how far you'd go. Or maybe, in some twisted way, he was giving you the space to make a move of your own. 

Now, there was no going back. 

His lips pulled away just long enough for you to catch your breath, his forehead resting against yours as you both tried to steady your racing hearts. His fingers were still tangled in your hair, and his other hand had drifted to your lower back, pulling you closer into him. You could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your clothes. You could feel everything.  

“You know this is crazy, right?” you whispered, your voice shaky, unsure if you were asking him or telling yourself. 

His eyes met yours again, dark and intense, and he gave a small, crooked grin. “Yeah,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lip again. “Maybe it’s what we need, ma.”

That was the problem. It wasn’t just about him. It wasn’t just about you. It was about both of you. And maybe you both had always known this would happen. Maybe you both had been waiting for the other to make the first move.

His hand slid up beneath your oversized tee, fingers trailing against your bare skin, igniting a trail of heat in their wake. Your breath hitched, your body reacting to his touch before your mind could catch up. And god—he looked so damn good in those glasses. He rarely wore them, but when he did, it did something to you, something dangerous. It wasn’t just the way they framed his sharp features, or the way they made him look even more intense. It was the way they added to that quiet, confident arrogance of his—the way he knew exactly how they affected you.

Your lips parted, and without even thinking, you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to contain the rush of anticipation flooding through you. His eyes darkened at the sight, his pupils dilating with hunger. A low, guttural moan rumbled from his chest, deep and intoxicating, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could process it, he moved—swift, effortless, like he’d done it a thousand times before. His strong hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with no effort at all. You gasped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders as he set you down onto the cool marble countertop. 

He didn’t hesitate. His lips crashed into yours again, hungrier this time, more demanding. His hands gripped your ass firmly, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel every hard line of his body pressing into you. Your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging just enough to earn another groan from him, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours.

“Fuck,” Jimmy mumbled against your lips, his voice thick with something between frustration and need. His hands roamed your sides, fingers digging into your skin like he was trying to ground himself. Your breaths mingled, heavy and uneven, as your hands moved instinctively to the hem of your shorts, pushing them down until they slipped off your legs and pooled onto the floor.

It had been over a year—too long since anyone had touched you like this. And yet, a single kiss from the one man you swore you couldn’t stand had you wetter than anyone ever had. It didn’t make sense. It was crazy. But you didn’t care.

Jimmy broke the kiss, his gaze trailing down your body until it settled on your yellow lace thong. The way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened—it sent a rush of heat straight through you. You didn’t even have to look down to know how hard he was. His breathing was labored, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he undid his pants, never once breaking eye contact.

“You hate me for real, huh?” His voice was low, teasing, but thick with something deeper, something desperate.

Your eyes locked onto his, and you forced out a soft, defiant, “Mhm.” But it came out as a whimper, betraying the war raging inside you.

His smirk was slow, knowing. “Yeah?”

Before you could say anything else, his pants and boxers hit the floor, and your breath hitched.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, your fingers twitching against the countertop as anticipation curled low in your stomach.

And that’s when you felt it—the hard press of him against you, only the thin lace of your thong keeping you apart. A sharp gasp slipped past your lips, swallowed instantly by his mouth as he kissed you deeper, his hands gripping your thighs, keeping you locked in place. Your fingers curled into his shoulders, nails digging in as a shudder ran through you.  

“You still hate me?” he murmured, his voice teasing but rough, his breath hot against your lips.  

Your eyes fluttered open, locking onto his, clouded with a mix of defiance and something dangerously close to surrender. “Ye—yeah,” you mumbled, though the tremble in your voice betrayed you.  

His smirk was slow, knowing. His grip tightened, his fingers flexing against your hips. “Bet”  

Before you could say anything else, he stretched you—slow, deliberate, making sure you felt every inch of his dick claiming you. Your mouth fell open, a soundless moan escaping as your body arched into him. His forehead rested against yours, both of you caught in the moment, breathing each other in.  

Your hands clutched at his back, nails dragging along his skin as he pulled you impossibly closer, filling you to the hilt. The heat, the tension, the months of unspoken rivalry and buried longing—it all exploded into something neither of you could stop now.  

And you didn’t want to.

Jimmy moved slowly, setting a rhythm that had your breath hitching with every deep, calculated stroke. You were used to men who rushed, who chased their own pleasure without thinking about yours. But Jimmy—he took his time, like he had something to prove. Like he wanted you to feel every inch of what he was doing to you.  

A shaky breath escaped your lips as your fingers curled against his shoulders. “J-Jimmy…”  

His grip tightened on your hips, his mouth ghosting over the shell of your ear. “What, baby?” His voice was thick, teasing, but there was something raw beneath it.  

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you as you arched into him. “I—” Your words faltered, another breathy whimper slipping free as he rocked into you again, slow and deep.  

He chuckled lowly, his lips trailing down your jaw, pressing lazy kisses along your skin. “You always talk back, always got somethin’ smart to say,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. His hands slid up your sides, fingertips brushing under your oversized tee. “But look at you now… all quiet for me.”  

Your nails dug into his back, frustration bubbling in your chest. “Shut up,” you muttered, your voice barely a whisper.  

Jimmy smirked against your skin, his grip tightening. “Nah, you love this shit,” he murmured. “Ain’t nobody ever taken their time with you, huh? Always quick, always rough… but that’s not what you need.”  

You bit your lip, refusing to admit how right he was.  

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression dark, hungry. “When a man really wanna fuck a woman, he don’t rush it. He wanna feel that pussy. That’s the whole fuckin’ point, mama.”  

A shudder ran through you, your breath coming out in short, uneven gasps. He was ruining you, and he knew it.  

“Tell me you still hate me,” he whispered, a smirk playing on his lips as he rolled his hips just right.  

You wanted to. You wanted to hold onto that last shred of defiance. But all that left your lips was a shaky, breathless moan.

His grip tightened as he leaned in, lips brushing over the shell of your ear. “Say it,” he murmured, voice thick with control. “Tell me you don’t hate me, baby.”  

Your breath hitched, every nerve in your body on fire. “I—I don’t hate you, Jimmy,” you panted, barely able to form the words as his dick hit every sweet spot in your body.  

He hummed in satisfaction, his hands gripping your thighs, keeping you right where he wanted. “Mmh, I know,” he rasped, his dark gaze locked onto yours. “You just needed some dick, didn’t you?”  

Your heart pounded, fingers digging into his shoulders. You didn’t answer, couldn’t. But he wasn’t letting you off that easy. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Say it.”  

A soft whimper escaped your lips, your head nodding before you could stop yourself. His smirk deepened, his grip tightening as he watched you unravel beneath him.  

The tension coiled tighter, every inch of your body wound up and desperate for release. “Jimmy—Yes…” Your words trailed off into a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut as the pressure built.  

He read you instantly, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “Cum on this dick, baby. I got you.”  

And just like that, you shattered, a breathless moan slipping past your lips as your body gave in. He held you through it, his hands steady, his eyes never leaving yours.  

“Damn,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours as you caught your breath. Jimmy didn’t let up. His grip on you was firm as he pulled you down to your feet, spinning you around with ease. His hands guided you, pressing your front against the counter as his body crowded you from behind.  

“Arch that back for me,” he murmured, voice thick with command.  

You obeyed without hesitation, your fingers gripping the cool surface as he slid inside of you, teasing, taking his time. Your breath hitched, a desperate whimper escaping your lips.  

“Damn,” he groaned, sliding an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Knew you just needed me to take care of you.”  

Your head fell forward, your lips parting. “Please…”  

He smirked at the way the word rolled off your tongue. “Yeah, baby?”  

You couldn’t form the words. Your thoughts were a blur, tangled in the heat of the moment.  

He chuckled darkly, his fingers trailing down your spine. “Mmh, all that attitude, all that ‘I hate you’ talk—where it at now?”  

You bit your lip, trying to hold on to whatever fight you had left, but it was useless. His fingers slid lower, finding your clit with ease. A sharp gasp escaped you, your body trembling under his touch.  

“Thought so,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your shoulder. His fingers moved faster as he coaxed you closer to the edge. “And you ain’t done yet, baby. You gonna gimme another one before I let up.”  

A desperate whimper slipped from your lips. “Yeah?”  

He hummed in satisfaction, his fingers working fast but firm, knowing exactly how to unravel you. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “And you gon’ take it.”  

Your body tensed, heat pooling low in your stomach as the sensation built higher, stronger, consuming every part of you.  

“Jimmy—” Your voice broke, your grip on the counter tightening as a wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you breathless.  

A deep groan rumbled from his chest, his arms holding you close as he followed, his breath heavy, his hands still gripping you like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.  

“fffuuuckk,” he muttered, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl.”  

Your knees felt weak, your breath shaky, but he held you steady, his lips ghosting over your skin as if savoring the moment.  

“You still hate me?” he murmured against your ear, his voice teasing, smug.  

You let out a breathless laugh, too dazed to even pretend anymore. “Shut up, Jimmy.”  

His chuckle was low, knowing. “ight.”

The night unfolded in a blur of tension and connection, each moment between you and Jimmy pulling you deeper into something unplanned. You moved through the apartment together. His dick was inside of you in the living room, slow and intense, his hands exploring with a mix of desire and tenderness. Every room, every new position felt deliberate.

It wasn’t just about the heat between you—it was the quiet tenderness in his touches, the way he’d pull you close, his hand brushing through your hair. With each passing moment, it became clear: this wasn’t a fleeting thing. Whatever had sparked between you two, it was something deeper than you’d expected. And as the night ended, you couldn’t help but wonder where it would lead.

[reginalusus]

A quiet Autumn in Hometown.

Image description: Fanart of Kris and Susie from Deltarune, done in a style that is reminiscent of a 90s anime. Kris and Susie sit at a lake, their backs facing us. Bordering the lake are trees that have gone orange because of the Autumn season. The lake itself hosts leaves floating upon it and is a blue colour, turning into an ombre turquoise as it reaches a treeline in the distance. Above the treeline is the sunset, casting the scene in a dim, evening glow. The water itself is animated and it twinkles. End of image description.

[trianglegoddess]

Feral McGee™

It starts with the Joker. 

His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he? 

Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again. 

The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does. 

It happens like this. 

The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair. 

Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham. 

And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair. 

Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up. 

He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold. 

Then he looks towards the camera. 

“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves. 

Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham. 

“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”

“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”

—

The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler. 

He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes. 

While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely. 

Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch. 

They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. 

“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”

The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black. 

Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless. 

“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”

“Hn.”

—

After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised. 

Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on. 

Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down. 

Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.  

He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again. 

And then the Joker escapes. 

It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after. 

Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up. 

They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™. 

The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid. 

Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed. 

“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say. 

They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger. 

“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood. 

“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”

Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it. 

In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him. 

When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker. 

“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”

The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”

“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice. 

 “Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”

“Hn.”

[leclerc-hs]

lucky - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend, are most definitely in love, but it's too complicated. Warnings: BAD FRENCH??? (I don't speak French...please correct me so I can make some edits!!! Would be greatly appreciated), angst!!!!!, no smut but maybe if I make a part 2? Word Count: 1,332 Author's Note: I'm thinking I want to make another part to this maybe??? Idk what do we think. It was just a random thought that came to mind. I didn't edit or proofread. Please fix my French if you can!!! xo UPDATED FRENCH: edits thanks to @dannyramirezwife!!!! PART 2 BONUS

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Ah, merde!" You exclaimed, dashing up the stairs of your apartment building. As usual, you were running late, but this time it was for your own dinner party. Your hands were full, and the constant vibration of your phone in your coat pocket suggested your friends were wondering were you were.

In the home stretch, you reached your door, ready to unlock it. To your confusion, the door swung wide open just as you approached. Charles leaned against the frame, a hand towel casually slung over his shoulder, like he owned the place.

"Où étais-tu tout ce temps-là, Lucky?" Where have you been all this time? Lucky. Your childhood nickname. His lucky charm. It warmed your heart to hear.

His eyebrows were scrunched as you stepped through the doorway, brushing past his shoulder and into the living room where all your friends sat chatting loudly. A small speaker played music in the background softly while your friends all chatted and laughed. It took a moment for them to notice your arrival.

"She's here!" "Mon dieu, finally." "I am so hungry." echoed through the room as your friends expressed their relief and hunger. Their flushed cheeks suggested they had indulged in heaps of wine while waiting for your arrival.

"See Charles, no need to have an aneurysm. I knew she would show up soon," Joris teased, winking in your direction before casting a glance over your shoulder. No doubt, Charles towering over your frame behind you.

"Je suis désolé," I'm sorry. You apologized repeatedly, sensing the tension. After urging everyone into the dining room with a wave, you added, "Sit, please," prompting your friends to take their seats. You hurried into the kitchen, dropping your bags by the kitchen table.

"Où étais-tu?" Where were you? You felt his hands on your hips as you opened the wine fridge to grab more bottles of wine for the table.

Butterflies. The warmth of his hands made your stomach flutter.

"Got caught up at work and missed the bus," You explained in a huff. "I had to walk all the way back here."

His hands tightened on your waist, turning you around to face him. His eyes were darker than normal, eyebrows still furrowed. "Mon dieu! Why didn't you call me?" My God. He seemed frustrated even more so now. The tone in his voice was rather sharp. "It's freezing outside."

"Ca va, Cha." I am fine. You reassured him, gently moving away from his embrace. You carried the bottles into the dining room and placed them on the table. Charles following, a large pasta dish in hand for the table that everyone immediately dug into as soon as it hit the table.

As the guests eagerly dug into the meal, you settled into your seat, intending to fill your wine glass. However, Charles beat you to it, taking the last seat beside you and topping off your glass, his actions notably conspicuous.

The dynamic between you and Charles was far from straight-forward. Best friends since childhood, who also hook up, who also don't tell their friends about it? It was complex for sure.

You both didn't look at it as an exclusive thing either though. You both go on your fair share of dates. More Charles than you. Yours never went further than a few dates for fun.

Since Charles and his ex-girlfriend last broke up, he has been more needy and more possessive of you. You figured he would get back together with her at some point, like he always did. It was just a ticking time bomb at this point. You, counting down the days until he takes her back.

"Hot date?" You heard Arthur ask from across the table, winking at you. "How was it?" You felt Charles hand slip to your thigh under the table, gripping it tightly.

You truly were coming from work tonight. But you did have a date last night. One that you didn't need Charles to hear about.

"Non," No. You felt your cheeks redden, a dead giveaway that you in fact did go on a date. "I got stuck at work, imbécile," you stuck your tongue out playfully at Arthur. Everyone laughing immediately, except Charles.

Charles squeezed your thigh again, clearly wanting your attention. You turn your head to him giving him a pointed look. Saying stop. Saying please wait until later. He understood, slipping his hand off of your thigh and faking a smile for the table as he falls into conversation with the rest of the table.

After a few hours, with everyone in a cheerful state of inebriation and satisfied bellies, the apartment was finally cleaned up and emptied. The lively chatter had faded away, leaving behind a quiet space. The only person lingering was Charles, sprawled comfortably on your couch, waiting.

You weren't privy to the excuse he had given to avoid going home with the others, but at the moment, you didn't care. No one seemed to question or pay much attention to him staying behind, as if it were a routine occurrence.

"Qui c'est?" Who is it? He sat like he was on his throne. Except it was your couch. Looking at you, like you owed him every explanation.

"Cha, s'il te plaît," please.

You could feel him getting more frustrated by the minute. You loved him to death. He was your best friend. Your person. You fought like siblings sometimes. But, you also fought like lovers.

You didn't want to get into who you were going on dates with. It was casual. Just for fun. It's not like Charles is officially yours.

"Non, dis-moi." No, tell me. You noticed him clench his hand into a fist just slightly.

"It was just a date, no one important." You waved him off. Taking a seat beside him on the couch. Silence followed. As if he was lost in his own head.

"Merci," you thanked him. For setting up dinner. He is the only other person with a key to your place after all.

His eyes flicked from you to the TV. He couldn't look at you while he said these next words.

"I don't want you to date."

It was unfair. And he knew it too. Which is why he couldn't look you in the eyes as he said it. He doesn't deserve to tell you that. He doesn't deserve to feel this way.

You let out a loud sigh, "Cha. You can't say things like that." You wanted to cry honestly. "Let's keep this simple, oui?"

You both were too blind. Blind to see that no one else would ever make you happier. But, you both were too scared to fully commit. Because you knew once you did, that was it. There could be nobody after you. There could be nobody after him.

"J'en ai marre," I'm sick of it. You felt him stand up from the couch. He was now pacing in front of you, the sound of the TV barely heard as he raised his voice. "J'en suis malade de mentir," I am so sick of lying.

You knew what he meant. You felt that way too. But it wasn't time. You both weren't ready to make it official. It was too scary.

"Assez!" Enough. You exclaimed. You couldn't handle this right now.

"Just go home," you felt shut down. You were not ready for this conversation. You knew Charles patience was wearing thin. But it was unfair. Just because he thinks he is finally ready, does not mean you need to be.

Charles felt as if he could rip out all of his hair. He wanted to pound his fists all over the place, just to get you to give him something. You were completely shut down. He wanted a reaction. He wanted a confession. Nothing you would provide at the moment.

"C'est pas croyable ça," Unbelievable. He said bitterly with a small laugh. "Have fun on your dates."

And with that, he was out the door. Slamming it hard enough that the walls of your apartment shook.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟔

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, language, memory loss, reader is hurt and confused, angst, Soldier Boy is harsh

Word Count: 5394

A/N: English is not my first language.

You could feel Soldier Boy's arms holding you tightly, and you made an effort to free yourself, only to find that the harder you fought, the tighter he held you. Eventually, you let out a painful moan as you felt his powerful, frightening grip around your lower abdomen. 

“Hey,” you said in a restless tone, swiftly rubbing your palm on your stomach to wake him up. “You're hurting me.”

He gave off a sound like a groan and said something that was incomprehensible. You firmly said, “Fuck, you're going to kill me here if you don't loosen your hands right now,” while he forced your body to press against his. “I mean it.” 

Regaining wakefulness and eventually opening his eyes, Soldier Boy released his grip a bit on you. “What happened?” 

You rubbed your arms and belly with agony and moans while he stretched his muscles and rubbed his sleepy eyes in between grumblings. 

“You held me far too firmly. That hurt,” you replied, turning to face him while you raised your shirt to see the damage. There, it was somewhat reddish. You looked like you'd been slapped by him there. You give him a sour look and draw attention to the skin marks on your body. “Look what you have done.” 

When he finally woke up, his thick fingers gently stroked your tummy, and he whispered a curse. 

He apologized, “Fuck, sorry,” but he prevented you from getting up. 

You said in a sarcastic voice, “Do you usually wake me up like this?” out of curiosity. You worried if he had ever injured you before without knowing anything about the background of your relationship. 

“On occasion,” he said with a mischievous grin. “But of course, I don't do it on purpose.”

“I have to be insane to be with a supe,” you muttered in disbelief. You questioned your irrationality in taking such a risk with your life. It was well known that supes sometimes killed their partners behind closed doors or in different circumstances. 

With a playfully “Hey,” he embraced you, and you felt the warmth of his chest behind your back. It was heartwarming, and he felt safe. “You enjoyed every moment of it. All I can say is that you were really enthusiastic and energetic, though you can't recall. Yet.”

You remarked, half-joking, half-hurt. “I'm sure just because I don't remember a single thing, you're making things up.” He was making statements as though he was talking about someone else entirely, like an ex-lover. You were taken aback by how comfortable you felt with him in just one day, as if you were deeply connected. If he was being honest with you, your skin and body had memories of their own to justify him.

He inquired, “What happened?” after noticing your abrupt expression change. 

You said, “Nothing,” not wanting to put in too much effort because your headache persisted. It was all truly complicated. 

“Are you still unable to remember anything? Concerning us or another thing?” When Soldier Boy noticed you had become lost in thoughts, he queried with suspicion. 

“No.”

His facial expressions have altered, and he is now staring at you irritated. He didn't inquire about it, even though it seemed like you didn't want to remember anything at all. He was aware of your efforts, and he knew it was just too much for you. Yet he believed you also had to understand him. It wasn't easy for him either in that situation. He was missing you. 

“All right,” he sighed. “Get ready so we can go to the doctor. I'll make sure to it that you are well taken care of, okay?”

You nodded to him and quickly showered while he got dressed. You also had to confront Butcher and others, but you'll discuss this matter with another doctor first. Since Soldier Boy had sensitive nerves and you didn't believe that he wouldn't intentionally or unintentionally harm you, However, you didn't want to get into a fight with him anyway. You wondered what he was like and the nature of the relationship you had with him some months prior. It was all so surreal that it was difficult to believe. You questioned if you really loved him or whether he really loved you. 

You looked at Soldier Boy as he adjusted his belt and put on his gloves, right after you had put on whatever you had found in the home. His messy hair gave him a savage and very attractive appearance. He smiled at you genuinely once he saw you were staring at him.

It wasn't bothersome, but he said in an arrogant manner, “Enjoying the view?”

“I'm just waiting for you to suit up already. You're taking too long,” you said playfully as you kept watching him.

“Oh, yeah? It's an old attitude.” When he was finally done, he blinked at you. “Guess we're both ready to go, huh?”

“Well, yes,” you said, taking one final glance around the room as though you would be staying here with him forever, even though it didn't seem that way. 

When you got in the car, you two were silent. Soldier Boy kept checking on you, which should have helped you feel a little better, but you were restless and uncomfortable. You called Butcher over and over, but he never answered, which made you feel awful and as though you were being ignored.

His actions proved Soldier Boy was the one to tell you the whole truth. You would have preferred it if Butcher had once been honest with you, but perhaps this is best for you. You believed that you were getting close or something. He was like a big brother to you after all. You were obviously wrong.

“He's not returning your calls, right?” With his gaze fixed on the road, Soldier Boy posed a sharp question. 

“No.” 

You spoke in an attempt to appear calm, but it was clear that you were lost and heartbroken. You had no option but to believe what Soldier Boy told you about him, about you, about everything. Butcher had abandoned you. 

Saying, “I told you he's a coward and a liar. He won't tell you anything, and he will continue to tell you lies even if you manage to track him down. He is a fucking liar; that much is true.” Soldier Boy gave you a serious look, as if he wanted you to believe whatever he said. Word by word. 

You murmured, “We can talk about such things later,” not wanting to discuss the difficult situation any more. 

Soldier Boy angrily replied, “Don't you tell me you still trust him.” He was so ready for another fight. 

“I won't say that I think highly of him, nor do I still trust him fully. He clearly told me bullshit about a few topics. However, you have to understand that I am unable to totally trust you as well.” You tried not to seem hostile as you added, “I don't even know you,” but you could feel the tension in the air rising as he inhaled deeply. 

He questioned, frustrated. “What's wrong with you?” Soldier Boy hated Butcher more than anything. “God knows how long you've been asleep or he's telling you lies with others, but you still say you can't trust me as well.” 

Soldier Boy struggled to control his tone, not wanting to frighten you away or anything, but it was difficult for him to be informed you didn't trust him. As though he were just another man, like Butcher and the rest. 

“Why are you even upset with me? Since you are aware of the complete truth and my pals have lied to me, it is simple to look from your side. I have no idea what's happening at all.”

He glanced at you briefly, but he continued driving without changing his face. You felt that he was treating you a little worse than he had been the night before, but you weren't sure why. It shouldn't have hurt because you didn't know him, yet it still crushed your heart in a strange way.

As if he would act differently if only you were different too.

He said emphatically, “I'm not angry. It's simply annoying that you're telling me you don't believe me but continuing to hold out hope for Butcher and demand an explanation.”

“Why is it wrong to wait for an explanation? I'm curious what he's going to say, and it's okay to be cautious of strangers, but he needs to tell me the truth, or at the very least acknowledge that he lied to my face teaming up with the rest of the others, because I now know his lies. Even though I genuinely appreciate your concern, you should be understanding of my situation rather than being selfish.”

You would have liked to know the truth about what transpired between them so you could know why Soldier Boy was so outraged with him. You were certain he would kill Butcher instantly, without hesitation.

“Fuck that! Am I now being self-centered?” He gave you an angry expression as he inquired in a harsh tone, “Is it okay to give a fucking hand job to a stranger?”

He was behaving as though it was all your fault. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, his attitude scared you a little. You questioned whether this was how he treated you always.

Your face heated while you attempted to push the memories of yesterday from your thoughts. Your fingertips grazed the hard surface of the seat while you searched for an answer to his bold question. 

“It was an instinct for survival lets say. You're a..strong supe, and I couldn't fight you after all. Why are you even talking about this right now?” With a mumble, you hoped that soon enough the two of you would forget your private moment. 

“Oh god,” he whispered. He didn't seem at all pleased with your response. “Are you fucking telling me you'd do the same if it was another supe on top of you?” 

As the images filled his mind, you being with another Supe, he made an angry noise, trying to empty his mind. He'd kill whomever tried to lay a hand on you. You both were lucky he recognised your voice yesterday.

You said, “I don't know.” You had no idea what would happen if it turned out to be someone else, not him, just another Supe. As you saw him get irate and clench his fingers on the steer, you said, “But no one would kiss me right away like you did, right?” That sounded as genuine as you had hoped it would. It was sincere. You had no idea what possessed you to give him that quick kiss back without even thinking twice. Perhaps it was meant to be.

He only murmured, “I'd kill them.” Then he grasped your hand in his, realizing you were gone silent. “Hey, I'm just...” To figure out just what to say, he took a deep breath. “I understand that it's terrifying for you, and it's just too much. Yet even if it doesn't seem rational, I need your faith. I need you to trust me in this.”

You said, “I don't get it,” unsure of what step to take. Your eyes wandered helplessly to your phone. That might be a little bit simpler if Butcher spoke to you, but Soldier Boy detested Butcher so much that he believed Butcher would immediately start telling you more lies the moment he opened his lips. 

“I know, baby. I know,” he said, attempting to block out the thoughts of Butcher's crap. For everything he did, he vowed to murder Butcher. 

In a quiet voice, you asked, “Are you always like this?” wanting to know more about his personality. About you in the past. 

He looked perplexed and scowled. “Like what?” 

“Just like this,” you urged. “Angry and on edge.”

His mouth dropped open in protest at what you'd just stated. It was true that he appeared a little tense and maybe even a little too aggressive. But you had nothing to do with any of the negative feelings he was going through. “No, of course not.”

He looked at you with real regret, and you sighed. He was giving you the truth, and you could tell by the way he looked at you. But these days, it was difficult to trust anyone. However, it was also difficult to ignore the need to rely on someone. 

“I think you would behave differently.” Finally, you mumbled to him what was really worrying you: “If only I remembered everything.” 

You were right, and Soldier Boy didn't say anything for a while—possibly even unaware of his attitude toward you. You sensed that every second passing was making you two more and more apart, yet you were so close to reconnecting. 

You said, “Am I right?” expecting him to say no. 

He managed to reply in a stern voice, “You're not,” and went on, “Like I've told you before, it's not about you. It's true that I feel a little...tense, but I most often do, even with you. You simply can't recall anything about us. That has to be the cause of your feelings.”

“You mean that I'm constantly welcoming of you in this way? Am I really that obedient and docile?” you questioned, startled. It was hard to imagine you were a scaredy little cat around him, putting up with his rage all day and night. 

“You're simply misinterpreting us at this moment, sweetheart,” he stated, grinning heartily at you. “You know, it would be so much easier if you could only remember just one memory of us, so that it would be a lot easier for you to grasp our dynamic.”

“I still think I must be a dumb being with a supe.”

“Anways,” grumbled Soldier Boy. Right now, things seemed a little bleak for you. It's true that you seemed like a new person. That's when he understood how much he really did miss you and needed you back. It hurt so much to miss you and your memories. He would make sure to it that the doctors do the best they could to get you back to him. He didn't even want to imagine if nothing worked. 

He remained silent for a considerable time after that, and you were becoming more apart. The abrupt coldness in his attitude toward you made you feel restless and uncomfortable. It was true that you wanted to learn more about Soldier Boy and find out about your former relationship with him, but you also didn't want to trust him until you spoke with Butcher and the others. Either you had genuinely loved him, or you had to have an appropriate explanation for being with him.

None of them mattered; perhaps your connection with him wasn't as awful as you thought it would be, or perhaps you were too blind to recognize his true cruelty and mercilessness while you were with him. All you had to do, if it was possible, was know the truth and get to know him again. You questioned if you truly had loved him in the past and whether you could love him again. It wasn't like you were completely against the idea or something. 

You gaped in distaste looking at the massive Vought Tower as Soldier Boy brought the car to a stop. That terrifying structure was the source of rage that one could never forget. It was filled with demons in masks who thought of themselves as heroes. 

“Hey, you okay?” You inhaled deeply as Soldier Boy asked you in a concerned tone. 

“Yes," you mumbled. “I just don't like this place.”

“Come on. We won't be spending the most of our time in this place. We are coming to visit a doctor—a legitimate, real one. Just like you deserve.” As soon as he heard your heartbeat quickening and worry taking hold of you, he wanted to comfort and encourage you. 

“Okay,” you said, feeling a little relieved as he smiled at you genuinely. 

When you entered the elevator, you whispered, “Is Homelander here?” 

He listened to his surroundings for a while and said, “Yes.”

You shivered as a wave of worry and nervousness washed over you when you thought of Homelander. Homelander was something you could never forget, even if you bashed your head until your skull broke. You didn't want to be in the same room as him because he was the most vile and vicious person that has ever lived. 

Soldier Boy stroked your arms and placed his gloved hand behind your neck when he saw your uneasy demeanor and the change in your breathing. “Hey. Nobody could or would risk hurting you. Particularly him, especially him.” 

You knew Homelander, but you wanted to put your faith in Soldier Boy and feel at peace. No one could ever stop Homelander when he intended to hurt someone, and you had doubts about Soldier Boy's full strength. Their power dynamics were foreign to you. 

You couldn't even move to nod at him as you wanted to. You just had a sour expression on your face, as if you were willing to embrace anything he said. 

You placed your hands on his to express your gratitude and your faith, whispering, “I want to believe you.” 

Soldier Boy planted a kiss on your forehead and said, “Then believe me,” with confidence. It was such a lovely moment that a thrill and a hint of crave surged through your veins. In a moment, a tiny piece of hope filled your heart; maybe he could fall in love with this version of you. After all, you were you. If you were genuinely loved, memories shouldn't matter all that much as long as the same emotions persisted in his heart.

When he saw that you were staring at him intensely and with a faint smile on your lips, he seemed confused. Knowing that you were in a relationship yet feeling both too close and too far away was insane. At that little, genuine moment you two had, he should have had the same thought. That would be a good memory too between you and him.

At last, Soldier Boy murmured, “Okay, let's go,” releasing his hold on the skin while still holding your hand.

As soon as you and Soldier Boy entered the large white room, you took a deep breath to calm yourself. To cheer you up, he offered your hand a small, determined squeeze.

When Soldier Boy called upon the doctor across the room, who was absorbed in his thoughts and studying the paperwork, he smiled warmly at you. 

The doctor shook hands with Soldier Boy, saying, “It's good to see you see you in person, Soldier Boy, and I guess you are..”

You shook hands and said your name to him. You looked like a toddler whose parents had forcibly taken her to the hospital. That wasn't all that different, really. 

Before he could ask any questions, Soldier Boy interrupted, “Yeah, she's the one we talked about on the phone.” He must have spoken with him when you were taking a shower or changing your clothes. You thought it would be simply an ordinary check, but you didn't trust the doctor because he worked for Vought after all. 

You were led into the doctor's room and seated, your fingertips twitching uncomfortably on the chair. Even though Soldier Boy was gently playing with your hair to console you, you were still feeling worried and uncertain.

He waited for you to respond before asking, “So, is it true that you're not remembering a single thing that happened in the twelve months?” 

“Yes,” you answered right away.

“Alright,” he said without disputing the preciseness of the time. “So, what specific events do you recall having happened to you? What did you last recall before the incident?”

When Soldier Boy waited on foot, you could feel his concentrated gaze on your shoulder and the trail of his fingers on your back, but you tried not to look at him.

The doctor responded, “You can take your time,” as if he was trying to calm you down.

You forced your memory again, even though you were suffering from a headache, but the pictures remained the same. You just didn't want to.

You began, “I was...” but you refrained from giving any specifics about Translucent. “I was with Hughie, a friend of mine.”

“How did you spend the time with him? Are you able to think about the specifics?” he repeated quietly. You wanted him not to ask you anything at all. 

What are you meant to say? That you were torturing Translucent in an attempt to get him to talk. Telling a Vought doctor about this would be problematic. 

You lied and said, “I don't...remember exactly.” You hoped that Soldier Boy wouldn't pressure you to reveal everything. “We were just spending time, and then I guess hit my head somewhere.”

Your lie made Soldier Boy tense, but he didn't break off to avoid creating a scene or placing you in an awkward position. You wouldn't dare to... Fuck, he didn't even want to picture you with that dumb son of a bitch. Fuck. 

The doctor finally remarked, “I see. How long has it been since you lost your memories?”

“Three months, I guess,” you said, hoping that what Butcher had told you about the period you had been asleep was accurate at least. You have slept for literally months, but you weren't sure if you should provide him with more information. Since it didn't seem essential, you chose to merely give the information the doctor needed. The whole story did not need to be told. 

“It's been months, and you still don't remember a single thing?”

“No," you politely said. "Not at all.”

“Is there a way to bring her memories back?” Soldier Boy took the seat in front of you and asked immediately. 

The doctor said, “I...cannot promise such a thing I'm afraid,” and then he looked at you sadly. You kind of feel at ease, though you're not sure why. 

“What do you mean you can't promise? What the fuck? You work at Vought and are a supe doctor. You're not being paid for doing anything at all.”

The doctor tried to explain, saying, “It's hard to bring back memories like that; naturally. However, her circumstances won't even present a difficulty. She is quite fortunate.”

“What do you mean?” Soldier Boy questioned suspiciously, feeling a little more at ease now, hoping that the doctor would provide some helpful guidance. 

“A supe woman called Cate came to see me a few hours ago regarding her injuries. As I treated to her arm, she briefly informed me about her powers. Life is strange. Cate told me she could play with memories, that she could even bring them back, among other things.”

“Are you absofuckinglutely sure?” When the doctor continued to give Soldier Boy more facts about her, his eyes became wide with excitement and in disbelief.

You should have been thrilled about it, but instead you felt quite uncomfortable and worried. You didn't want someone to forcefully retrieve your forgotten memories from your brain through mind games. You knew this wasn't what you wanted right now, even though it was a weak excuse. You would never allow a stranger to play with your memories in that way.

Your heart broke seeing Soldier Boy's delighted face and hearing him ask the doctor many questions. Even though he was now just another stranger to you, you could still sense and know he was important. You would have injected a virus into his body yesterday with Butcher's order before you even met him. Still, a lot has happened since yesterday.

In one day, you had created a lot of memories with Soldier Boy, and they were now special to you two; they were no longer about your former self. You were the real one, this time. You felt lost when you saw him becoming enthusiastic about it as if he was finally ready to meet his true love, even though you knew it was foolish to think this way. Wouldn't he love you like this? 

“As far as I've learned, Homelander signed her missions, and unfortunately I don't know her contact number,” said the doctor. “But I think Homelander would tell you where she is.”

"All right, that's good," said Soldier Boy. You felt horrible to hear how relieved he sounded. You were terrified to say a single word because you knew he would get frustrated if you informed him that you didn't want your memories to come back to you in this state.

You and Soldier Boy left the doctor's office after expressing your gratitude.

You exclaimed, “I'm starving,” as soon as you entered the elevator, preventing him from mentioning Cate and talking about bringing your memories. “Can we eat something?”

He said, “Sure,” and you felt your heart melt with his smile.

Soldier Boy played with the small necklace around your throat and gave you a serious expression. “I sensed that you were lying in there, by the way, when he asked you what you were doing with that stupid face, Hughie, before you lost your memories,” he said. 

You spoke fast so he wouldn't start making up scenarios about Hughie and you. “Butcher had kidnapped a member of the Seven, and he was torturing him in his own ways to get him to talk about how to kill a supe,” you said. It was irresponsible and dumb. “I couldn't tell it to him, and it didn't seem important.”

He said, “Hmm,” happy that he wasn't going to hear something unpleasant. You were always his; he knew it. It was difficult to picture you assisting Butcher in his abduction of a supe. That jerk forced you to take several foolish and dangerous risks. 

You could see that the doctor's advice about bringing your memories to light was the reason he was feeling more at ease, even as his fingers continued to gently trace around your neck.

“I keep wondering what happened to the ring I gave you,” he said. “Maybe we can also find out this.”

Your heart melted with thrill and sorrow at the thought of the ring. 

You looked at your empty finger and whispered gently, “I don't know what happened to it. There was no ring on my finger when I woke up.” 

Soldier Boy's whisper was rough, “They must have taken it,” and his posture stiffened. 

You softly asked, “Did I like it?” to ease the tension. “The ring that you bought for me.”

He smiled weakly at you and said with a hint of pride, “Yeah, very much. With the help of that Supe the doctor talked about, Cate, we can also learn where your ring is, huh?”

The tiny smile that was on your lips vanished as he spoke about reliving your memories. You said, “We could just buy another one. Maybe it's just lost, and I'd like a different one.”

He firmly answered, “No,” not really interested in what you were proposing. “It was a nice one. You have no idea how hard I searched for that ring. We can definitely find it. It must have been taken by someone.”

He grasped your hand when the elevator stopped, and you were at a loss for words when it came to telling him how you felt. He was clearly expressing how much he didn't want this you. You followed him heartbroken.

As soon as you walked inside his room, you were astounded by how large and cozy the furnishings were. You were unaware that Vought Tower offered rooms like that. Tired, you stared out the window at the entire city as Soldier Boy ordered a meal for both of you. Up top, the view was incredible.

When your desperate eyes scanned the crowds, you turned to Soldier Boy. “After we have our meal, I'll find that Cate and everything will be solved,” he stated, putting his phone back into his pocket.

You leaned in closer to him and said, “I think we need to talk about this.”

While he waited for you to continue, he frowned. That was going to be difficult.

Nervous of his attitude, you managed to mumble in a low voice, “I just don't want someone to play with my memories and bring them back so suddenly.”

He was puzzled by your idea and said, “What the hell do you mean now?”

You asked in a panicked manner, “Why are you insisting so much? Everything is happening so quickly that I'm unable to keep up with it. I don't want my thoughts and memories to be played with.”

Soldier Boy approached you cautiously and confidently stroked your cheeks while maintaining a harsh expression.

“You can't even recall a single detail about me, you, or us since you fucking lost the last year of your life. Everything's going to be alright when your memories return. What makes you so afraid of?” he asked quietly, although it was obvious that he was growing frustrated.

Just saying, “I don't want it now,” You wanted to spend time with him in this way, to live the memories you couldn't remember, to create new memories with him, and to discover whether or not the thing between you was real. You weren't sure why your thoughts had changed so suddenly. 

“Even if you don't want it now, I'll find Cate, and you'll get your memories back. End of discussion. You will thank me for it once you remember us again, sweetie,” he continued, deliberately implying that he would make you do it even against your choice. 

You mumbled, “You can't force me.” 

“Well, I think I can,” he said confidently. “Don't you see, I miss you.” 

You were heartbroken by the way he sounded, as if he were trying to reach out to you, but you were lost in what he was saying, and it was as if he was talking entirely about someone else. 

You asked unexpectedly in a whisper, “Can't you love me like this?” You had to know what he was thinking about you, even if you had no idea where it had come from. “Since yesterday, we created some nice memories. Aren't they good enough for now?”

When Soldier Boy saw you like this, like you were lost, he grimaced. 

“You simply feel afraid to learn the entire truth, and you're just confused.” He continued in a cold voice, “You are still you,” but this time you didn't trust him. 

“No,” you protested, unable to control your tearing eyes. “Everything will change, even me. You make statements as though you were talking about someone else. You didn't respond to my question, If I remain this way, wouldn't you still be able to love me even if I lost all memory of the past?”

With a hopeful expression on your face, you waited for him to agree that things hadn't  come back to you so rapidly. He was right to say that you were afraid; while you anxiously awaited his response, your heart raced with both hope and sorrow. After being abandoned by Butcher and the others, you were also rejected by him. You really did feel afraid. 

He frowned and said, “Do you even remember my name?” ignoring the question you asked. 

You opened your mouth to answer him, shocked as you were, but you had absolutely no idea what to say. You forced your mind to recall even though you had a burning headache. You must have previously addressed him by name a thousand times, so you were only waiting for a memory to emerge. 

As he observed your struggles, Soldier Boy scowled and repeated in a harsh tone, “Do you?”

At last, you said, “No,” embarrassed that you couldn't recall his name. You were unaware that, up until now, you had never addressed him by name. Not even once. 

You felt your heart shattered into a million pieces as he sent you a sharp and disappointed look. You knew then that you were strangers with a past after all. He hadn't fallen in love with you. It was your memories that made everything special.

“Then my answer is no.”

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments are very much appreciated. They keep me going. ^.^

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@roseamie01

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Do you know if Riddle, or Tray, ever stands up to his mother? I think i saw it in a Pinterest post once of teen Riddle being slapped by his mom and Tray taking him away.

His background is sadder than Shoto Todoroki from BNHA

We don’t really get to hear about how things are going back home with Mrs. Rosehearts outside of one brief instance. In 4-3, Riddle is leaving for winter break and mentions he intends on speaking with his mother, though he isn’t optimistic about her listening.

Trey states in the same part of the story that he isn’t allowed at Riddle’s house (because Mrs. Rosehearts has banned him). However, Riddle is still invited to visit him and Chenya at the Clover family bakery (though it’s very unlikely Riddle would be able to, since he hasn’t canonically seen Chenya again since the unbirthday party of book 1).

We never get a follow-up on how the conversation between Riddle and his mother went. It’s never touched upon again, and his mom isn’t really brought up beyond this case. (I did happen to write a short piece about Trey, Riddle, and Mrs. Rosehearts interacting though, if you were interested in seeing my own interpretation of this idea.)

Riddle spends most of his time at NRC since it’s a boarding school, meaning there are few opportunities for him to directly interact with his mother. Even if Mrs. Rosehearts were readily accessible to him, I highly doubt we would get to witness Riddle or Trey doing much to talk back to her. As we see in book 4, Riddle is still quite meek and uncertain when it comes to speaking with his mom. Trey, meanwhile, is generally very non-confrontational and may still be dealing with his own complicated feelings about interfering with what are family matters. (Recall that the last time he encouraged Riddle to be adventurous, it resulted in his friend being severely punished and Trey may harbor guilt over this occurrence.) I feel that neither of them would realistically develop the courage to talk back to Mrs. Rosehearts when only like half a year has passed since Riddle’s OB incident as opposed to like seventeen years of Riddle living under her rules.

***CONTENT WARNING: I will be discussing abuse at length under the cut, so please be advised to avoid reading further if the topic makes you uncomfortable.***

Regarding the comic you saw on Pinterest, it is fan art. That is in no way canonical; Mrs. Rosehearts may be very stern and have a temper, but she has never slapped or otherwise put a hand on Riddle. The closest thing we get to a slap is this panel from the manga adaptation, which isn’t even a slap. You can tell from the movement lines and the FWP sfx that Mrs. Rosehearts is just quickly pulling her arm away since Riddle is trying to latch onto it in an attempt to get her to listen to his protests. There is also no mark on Riddle or harsh slap sfx to indicate contact was made.

Now then 💦 There's something very serious and relevant to this ask I'd actually like to discuss, so I hope you'll stick around to hear me out on this.

I know none of us really like Mrs. Rosehearts (which is fair, she has done a lot of terrible things to her son). However, I think it's dangerous for us to speak about her as though she's a total monster and nothing more than a monster. I'm NOT going to stand here and advocate that she has done nothing wrong (she definitely has committed many wrongs). What I'm saying is that I don't agree with her being treated like "just" an abuser.

Let's say we do demonize Mrs. Rosehearts. We see only her negative traits and allow those to define her entire character. This creates a scenario in which she is alienated and dehumanized, left as a caricature of a woman that is solely known for hurting her child. But the thing is, this ISN’T how abuse really works. Few abusers are completely wicked people through and through. Part of the reason why it is so difficult for victims to leave their abusers is because abusers almost never start off abusive. They usually act totally normal, and the abuse often doesn’t come until later or specific situations arise. It creeps up on you in an almost insidious manner, and you don’t expect it coming. I’d also like to mention that abusers often don’t act with the intentional thought of, “Yeah, what I’m doing/saying is abusive”. Abusers typically justify their actions or convince themselves they are acting out of goodness. They don’t do bad things “because they’re bad people”, they do bad things because they think they’re GOOD people. Some abusers may even be victims themselves.

By painting abusers (even fictional ones) as cartoonishly evil, irredeemable, or always cruel, it makes it harder for us to believe the very real danger that we, whom we see as “good” people, could become “bad” ourselves. It makes it harder to believe victims when they report abuse because “oh, the abuse isn’t THAT bad”. It erases the idea that abusers are also human, and that humans have the capacity to be awful sometimes or to perpetuate hurt. It makes it so much harder to identify abuse because we’d only be looking for the most extreme examples of it rather than noticing the small, subtle signs. By “othering” abusers, it’s inadvertently denying so many nuances of abuse... which ultimately is counterproductive.

I would like to point out that even in the example provided of another abusive parent, Endeavor is portrayed with some nuance. He physically and verbally abused his wife, neglected the children he deemed worthless, and pushed the child he deemed to be his successor to the brink. However, Endeavor is also shown to remember a detail as small as his (arranged) wife’s favorite flower when she only told him about it once. He is notably much more lenient when training his first son, who didn’t have the ideal Quirk he sought. Endeavor at one point even confesses to pursuing being a hero in order to avoid the demands of fatherhood, which demonstrates a realistic insecurity and vulnerability… his humanity.

The same could be true for Mrs. Rosehearts. We only assume he is “just an abuser” because we see her in such a limited scope. There are valid reasons to believe why she is a “good” person outside of how we see her acting in Riddle’s recollections, and this may help to explain why Riddle feels so hesitant to “stand up” to her. I would really recommend reading this post, which goes a lot more in-depth about the complications surrounding Riddle’s relationship with his mother. Again, I am in NO WAY defending Mrs. Rosehearts; I am only pointing out that abusers—no matter how horrible their actions—have identities beyond the label of “abuser” that should be acknowledged.

[sonicboomrevisited]

THE WEEKLY CHECK-IN

Issue 2 Updates:

6/22 Pages have been fully inked

Page 7 is still in the sketching process, but I hope to have the inks started today!

I am technically ahead of schedule on inking pages! Yay!

Issue 1 Page 13 WIPS:

You guys voted last week on what you'd like to see from this blog between now and issue 2s release. WIPs from issue 1 won! Every week, I'll showcase a page. This week I've chosen page 13!

The Initial Sketch: When I first start working on a comic page, I always focus on getting the general layout of the page done first. This means understanding how the panels fit together and jotting down a general sense of the action. You may notice that some of these initial plans changed in the final version. I wasn't originally going to have Amy hit Sonic with her Piko Piko hammer and panel 4 was going to have Sonic kicking Amy again rather than vaulting over her. I wish I had saved more of the in-between sketches to show you guys how these evolved overtime, but I just didn't think to do it during the process. I'm saving a lot of the sketches during Issue 2, though to make up for it!

Final Ink: A page without color! You can see how some of the sizing on the boxes changed, Sonic's surprised face was turned around to better fit with his new vaulting pose and what I originally intended to be a fully in-shadow panel was turned into just having Knuckles in Shadow. This is one of the prettier inks in my opinion. It's the first page that I felt completely happy with the art once it was finished. Looking back now there are things I would do differently, but I can still be proud of it.

Color: And here's the final product, without text, in all it's glory! Coloring is not my strongest suit. In fact, every time I draw something complicated I think about how much trouble its going to be to color later. I'm always up for the challenge, though. If I were to go back and color this page again, however, I probably wouldn't use so many gradients on the background.

Let me know what WIPS from Issue 1 you'd like to see next or if you have any questions about page 13!

[soft--dogs]

Hey friends! I'm running a small sale on full body commissions, I'm taking 5 slots at $85 a character (down from my standard price of $100). I need more examples for my website, and I just want to draw some characters :3c alsooo if anyone's interested, I'm offering discounts on commissions of your character with my sona Sammy! PLEASE NOTE, Your character *must* have a ref sheet or full body image I can work from. I'm not designing characters for these, sorry! ALSO, please have an idea or pose in mind! It can be generic, like "playing a switch" or "enjoying the outdoors" but I need to have an idea to work from ^_^ LAST THING, I'm changing my shading/background style a bit from my past work, I'm not going to be offering detailed cel shading or backgrounds. Minimal shading and simple bg elements are fine! I've just been way too overwhelmed lately to take on complicated projects. Sale prices are as follows: - 1 character: $85 - 2 characters: $170 - Your character and Sammy: $145 Some more rules: - my regular ToS applies! - sfw and nsfw allowed! (ToS still applies) - again, must have ref sheet or image of character. - payments through Paypal invoice only. - turnaround time will be 4-6 weeks! - I may be slightly more picky than usual with these, I might pass up more complicated characters or ideas. Feel free to run ideas by me though! DM me if you're interested in grabbing a slot, or have any other questions! ^w^ Stylistically they'll be similar to this! I can do a bit more detailed bg too, feel free to ask to see more examples.

[justiceiscalling]

so i wanna get into batfam cause it seems fun. my introduction to this family is through some dceu movies and titans (show) only. is there any introductory ff or something? (don't wanna do comics idkw)

dude the way those were my introductions too (plus young justice)!!! i also refused comics in the beginning lol. first, disregard titans as a whole. i loved the show when i knew nothing of the batfam and dc in general but now that i do, i remember how wrong it was on so many parts.

i'm just going to do fic recs that i read and that i think helped me better understand some characters and then at the end i will add a 'quick' background on the 'lesser known' bats (duke, cass, and steph).

(nine fics plus an additional two crossovers)

here we go:

Worlds Saddest Breakfast Club by motelyfam

Summary:

Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake.

my opinion: okay i love love love this one. it includes every 'major' batfam member save for barbara gordon (so really just the one's considered bruces kids + steph). i think this one has extremely accurate characterization, it’s jason todd-centric but includes a good amount of everyone else.

greatest of ease by ijustwanttodestroy (ONGOING)

Summary:

The times people meet Dick Grayson. Not Robin, not Nightwing — just Dick. (Or: Dick Grayson is a hero, has always been and will always be, no matter what name he takes.)

my opinion: i actually just read this during the 12 hour tik tok ban and this is so good. it's dick centric and is just how random people who've met him in passing perceive him. i love it so much. there's still one chapter left to be written, but since the last time it was updated was 2019, i don't think it'll be updated lol. but, i think the last chapter isn't really needed

A Mediation on Railroading by eggmacguffin

Summary:

When he ends up ditched in Atlanta after a fight with his dad, Tim decides to do the only sensible thing: Tell no one and make the 800 mile journey back to Gotham on his own. Because the "call Batman when you're in trouble" rule only applies when he's Robin, right?

my opinion: okay, honestly i haven't rad this in forever--a reread is long overdo--but i remember enjoying this. this one is on the longer side, nearly 25k words. i feel like a majority of people in this fandom have read this, in 2023 i could not go anywhere without being recommended this. i'm pretty sure this started me into my jason and tim as a duo spiral, which i have since left because i now really believe that tim and jason would lowkey be beefing non-stop but like in a brotherly way? which most fics surrounding them don't quite capture in the way i want, idk i'm picky lol.

but yeah. this fic=good for new fandom people.

though your eyes will need some time to adjust by popsunner

Summary:

“I think…” Stephanie takes a deep breath, “I think I’m bad.” “I don’t.” “So what, I’m just supposed to believe you?” “I am Batman.” Stephanie snorts, “Yeah, you are… but what if I’m still bad?” “Then I forgive you.” _______ Or: Stephanie and Bruce, figuring it out

my opinion: i actually haven't seen a lot of steph and bruce bonding fics that i like but i really enjoyed this one. i read this a year or two ago, forgot about it and reread it today. steph and bruces relationship is complicated and i like how this captures them.

dick grayson: a case study by writersagainstwritersblock

Summary:

Dick rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m mostly used to sparring with my little brothers, it’s kind of just habit, and I was having fun. I didn’t want the match to be over too quick.” “Too quick?” Derek asked, eyebrows raised. “I’m twice your size, kid.” Dick shrugged. “So’s Bruce and we’re pretty much tied at this point, or at least according to the score board the kids started to keep for Saturday spars.” “Saturday spars?” Derek repeated, following him towards the locker room. Dick flashed him a smile. “What? Don’t have any weird family traditions?” “Not ones that include hitting each other,” Derek said   OR The BAU gets a probationary profiler who is a little more than he appears at first glance. Or second. Or third. Just how many secrets can Dick Grayson be hiding from a team full of profilers?

my opinion: this one's a crossover but i love how it shows dicks relationship with his siblings, wally, and bruce. slades in here and so because of that theres implied sexual assault. the author has warnings on every chapter. i wouldn't read if you're not familiar with criminal minds though, it'll be really confusing

The Robin Generation by waterunderthebridge12

Summary:

"It's the dodging emotional conversations for me," Duke said. "Take the L." "Stop being such a cringefail edgelord," Tim said. "It's giving emotionally stunted," said Damian. "It's giving big yikes delulu."   In his ongoing search for better ways to fight crime, Tim comes up with a brand new method: bombarding bad guys with Gen Alpha slang. Recruiting Gen Alpha cusper Duke and full Gen Alpha Damian, shenanigans, chaos, and bonding ensue.

my opinion: i recommend this entire series, omg it's so unbelievably funny and good. great duke and damian bonding, great duke representation overall, and it also introduced me to the idea of duke hating dick and cass and jason just straight up beefing all the time which makes so much fucking sense. if you read anything on this list PLEASE read this.

Life Happens by Cdelphiki

Summary:

While walking home from an event at Wayne Enterprises, Tim and Damian are kidnapped and sent to an alternate dimension. In a world where superheroes are merely comic book characters and the idea of the multiverse is only a theory found within the pages of science fiction, how are Tim and Damian going to return home? How long will they be stranded on this strange Earth? And will the boys murder each other before they figure it out?

my opinion: by far one of the best tim and damian bonding things i read. it's 176k words so it doesn't make them bonding so straight forward, yk? not the usual 'they're both secretly jealous of each other' thing (which i lowkey love like i eat that shit up ngl), it's more complex. more 'i love you cause you're my brother, but i don't like you' which evolves into 'you're the only one around for me now' which turns into 'you're my favorite, please don't leave me.' i sob every time i read this story, it's so fucking heartbreaking. the other works in the exiled robins series are good but not needed to understand life happens.

All the Roofs of Uncertainty by Kieron_Duibhir

Summary:

For all the blood on his hands, Red Hood was never just a villain. And Nightwing never gives up on family, not for good. (Or: The one where Dick bleeds a lot and Jason argues with everybody.)

my opinion: i remember vaguely reading this when i first joined the fandom and loving it so much, it was my first introduction to jason and dick's relationship as brother that i thought actually made sense. if you like this one, check out Kieron_Duibhir's account, they're a really good author.

Martry Unmade by Here_we_go

Summary:

Jason Todd was loved best dead. Dead he was a saint. A martyr. Nothing was more sacred in the Church of Batman than martyrdom. - No one ever said that coming back from the dead was easy, not for the one who died and not for the people they left behind.

my opinion: catholic jason todd, my love. i'm always searching for catholic jason todd fics. i stumbled upon this a couple months ago and loved the fuck out of it. catholic jason is just so incredible to me, for some reason.

the entombment of idolization by make_your_own_world

Summary:

It turns out that growing up in the League of Assassins complicates your definition of self-worth. Or: Damian’s Saturday nights did not typically involve an underground sequence of caverns, a drugged brother, and a bloodthirsty monster snapping at their heels, but he was nothing if not adaptable. Or: If I am all you want to be, and you are all I want to be, why together are we not enough? (Can be read as a standalone)

my opinion: i did not read the other works in this series and i understood everything. this has tim and damian bonding which i will always look for, i'm pretty sure i stumbled upon this christmas of 2023 and i have loved it ever since.

okay that's it for the recs. if you want more heres the link to my bookmarks.

some have OC's or x readers, and i think theres one or two non batfam in there. still, feel free to look if you want. i also have some tim and damian bonding ones posted (Keep hanging on, Praise from a mother, Trust from a bother, the graves i dig series, and Growing apart), i don't think any of my other works will be of any use if you're just trying to get into the batfam because the rest are x readers or x OC's, save for one which is on a HEAVY hiatus lol.

quick background (as promised):

since your introduction was through DCEU and titans, im assuming you have no clue who duke thomas, cassandra cain, and stephanie brown are. duke is bruce’s latest foster kid, he’s black, his parents were rendered insane because of joker, he’s the vigilante signal, and he’s often forgotten by lots of the fandom. cassandra is one of bruce’s adopted kids (i believe) she came after tim but she’s jason’s age. she’s the daughter of lady shiva and david cain. typically she’s depicted as mute in fanon, but in comics she can speak her english is just very broken. depending on the fic, cass will be either one of those three vigilantes: batgirl, black bat, or orphan. stephanie isn’t bruce’s kid, she’s kind of an honorary kid though. she used to date tim but they’ve broken up in comics (tim is bi and dating bernard, as seen in the titans show), many people have her date cassandra. it’s a VERY popular ship in the batfam fandom, i think. stephanie is the vigilante spoiler though she was previously the vigilante batgirl and the only girl robin.

batgirl and robin are passed down. all the (main) robins in order are: dick, jason, tim, stephanie, then back to tim, and then damian (im pretty sure tim is robin in comics rn alongside damian but most fics have him as red robin). some people include maps in that but i normally don’t. batgirl has only three: barbara gordon, cassandra cain, and stephanie brown. then there’s also tiffany fox, who im pretty sure is said to be batgirl in the future? i’ve yet to see her in many fics and i think i read one comic that had her but that was forever ago.

[kittyoverlord]

Finale nails: part 2!

Themed on the many gods of Kristen Applebees.

Close-up pics, details, etc. under the cut

Finale nails pt. 1

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Dimension 20 Nail Art Masterpost

I first knew I wanted to do the different versions of "YES!/?" and the rest of the design

There were a few versions of the iDK shirt that I saw floating around, so I decided to do two with different fonts and background tie-dye designs. I used a special magnetic polish to give it a more etherial feel.

After seeing @caitmayart 's drawing of Ankarna, I knew I wanted to do her hair. The gradient design was one I ended up redoing a few times to get right.

For the Helio shirt, I couldn't do the exact design, so I simplified it into a rainbow-gradient stamp (yeah, simple). I can't read Kristen's shirt in the official art, so I tried to come up with a phrase that made sense. Even though this nail was supposed to be smaller and less important, it was one of the more complicated designs so also took a few tries lol.

Kalina is meant to be subtle and blend in. She was a late addition because I didn't know what to put on my last nail, but I'm super happy I added her.

Here are all my mess-ups. This was a multi-day project, but I'm happy with the results.

Base color: Holo Taco - Cool Cat Mom (magnetic), Lavender Syrup, Box Office Bomb.

Stamping: polishes and plates from Maniology. Pulled designs from a lot of plates so if anyone wants a full list lmk and I'll add one.

[cheezeybread]

Anon McGee is back to wreck the ol inbox :)

Not an Alice related thought this time [I'm ashamed to admit I've never actually played the game myself, I just remember my sister playing it when I was younger. That being said, supposed to get my hands on it this weekend, so we'll see if that sparks new thoughts 🙏], but I've been listening to a lot of Ghost lately and bring you something related to that instead. Just some short headcanons for the housewardens with an s/o who's, regardless of their aesthetic, an unexpectedly avid listener of things like Ghost [which is predominantly nu[?] metal with other genres in some of their other songs]. Like it just doesn't match up at all and it's just kind of jarring.

It's funny to me to imagine it as a sort of scenario where maybe the pair is busy doing something and one of them suggest they share a pair of earbuds to use as background noise and the mistake is made to give the reader control over what they're listening to and that's how the [to at least some of the housewardens, but likely not all of them] appalling reveal of reader's music taste is made. It's definitely not THAT bad, but it's like a punch in the gut when the last thing you're expecting is THIS.

[Also, just a side note, but if you've never listened to Ghost before, I recommend at least listening to "Darkness at the Heart of my Love" and "Mummy Dust" so you can get an idea of the range of their music. Maybe "Cirice" too. It's been kind of a hit or miss on talking to people about them lately, but with the movie having come out recently, I think they're getting around a bit more?]

YOU'VE NEVER ACTUALLY PLAYED THE GAME?? YOU TRAITOR! But at least you're getting the game now, atoning for your sins and whatnot- any new thoughts come around, feel free to wreck my inbox with them! XD

I've never heard of Ghost before, honestly- my music taste is absolutely an abomination! All I listen to is Fall Out Boy, musical songs and cheesy songs that have a veeeery clear storyline to them (I gotta picture a scenario to every song, it's easier that way, don't question it!), but honestly, those Ghost's songs are kind of a bop? I might add them to my Hype up playlist idk!

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Poor buddy didn't get to listen to any music with words in it as a kid! He was only allowed to listen to classical orchestra music...so when he got to NRC, Riddle was absolutely overwhelmed by the fact that there were so MANY different genres!

His taste is still pretty old-timey, though.

He's the sort to put on a "Wolfgang Mozart's BOPS" playlist (if their world has a Mozart...) and bust it down to some sick piano notes if he's alone lmao

So when the two of you are studying in the courtyard, you get on the topic of music and how it might help with studies. Riddle explains his tastes, and you try to explain yours with a mumbled "it's complicated..."

In the end, he goads you into playing some of your music so he can understand how you think

He nearly passes away when you first hit play

DRUMS??? GUITARS THAT ARE ELECTRIC MAYBE??? BEATS THAT AREN'T KEPT IN TIME BY A METRONOME IN THE BACKGROUND???

He's convinced you were one of those rebel-teens like Deuce was for a moment, before dismissing the idea.

Riddle just...can't come to terms with the difference of vibes between what YOU give off and the music you listen to.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

"Huh."

That's literally all he has to say on the matter for a few hours, as you blast your music on a speaker while you join the Savanaclaw dorm for their morning workout (whether you were actually working out, or just providing encouragement)

The other dorm members are vibing to it, for sure! Ruggie especially is busting down a move every time he gets a break

But Leona? He just says "huh" and...that's it. He doesn't seem too interested in it while he's practicing and working out.

At the end of practice, he comes up and sits with you in the shade, gnawing on a piece of jerky. After a little while, he mentions how he didn't expect a herbivore to have decent music tastes.

"Oh, so you liked it?" You question

"I didn't say that." he responds.

So does he like it?? Does he hate it???

You may never know???

Jk, Ruggie tells you in secret later that Leona was listening to Ghost in his room that afternoon.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Lounging around the Mostro Lounge after closing time, waiting for Azul to finish his "managerial" duties, Floyd convinces you to put on some "Human Vibes"...in other words, music. So you pull out your phone and set it in a glass cup to make the sound louder, and put on one of your main playlists.

Floyd is absolutely crushing it with the dance moves to the songs (literally "crushing it", he's about to crush several plates as he tries to dance while washing dishes)

Jade is silent throughout the ordeal, probably not even hearing it over the vaccuum he's running all over the lounge.

A few songs go through before Azul bursts out of his VIP room, looking absolutely furious.

He yells at Floyd to turn off the music, but the eel just shrugs and points at you without explaining

Azul turns to you, absolutely confused. You turn down the music to a reasonable level, apologizing if it disturbed his work

"What....do you listen to in your spare time?" Is his main question. You can't tell if he's disgusted or simply confused. Flabbergasted might be the best word for it, honestly.

After you explained to him that, yes, this was your music taste, Azul takes your hand in his and gets on his knees, pursing his lips

"We'll get you fixed, don't worry, you'll be fine." :'(

Don't worry, though, he's just kidding, for sure!

He won't even pretend to understand why you listen to it, but he's not going to be completely opposed if you were to play that sort of music every now and then!

KALIM AL-ASIM

Dude!! He loves it fr fr!!

He tries his best to like everything that life has to offer, appreciating it however he can, but he genuinely likes this! Even though he can safely say that he didn't expect you to like this sort of things.

But fully expect him to go down a rabbit-hole for Ghost. He's going to go through a hyper-fixation with it for a few weeks, adding in their songs to the playlists that he puts on a speaker during the dorm's parties and casual hangouts

For some strange reason, though, he wants you to know that he likes the music as much as you do, so Kalim might randomly burst out into one of their songs and insist that you dance with him to his own singing??

He's so silly, but isn't that why you started dating him in the first place?

VIL SCHOENHEIT

"Oh, love, this most definitely isn't the right music for you, are you sure?"

He's so concerned when you play it during a "spa night" in the Pomefiore dorm. He genuinely thinks that you're possessed by a ghost or something. With the way you acted half the time, this was...not the sort of song he was expecting.

It's okay, though, he'll come around, you just have to gentle-parent him with your music taste for a while.

"Aww, come on, how do you know that you hate it if you don't try it~?" (Speaking as if you're trying to get him to eat vegetables LOL)

But after a while, maybe, hopefully, he'll tolerate it just a little bit more...maybe

IDIA SHROUD

I'm ngl, Idia strikes me as the type to listen to this group (and music in general) on occasion, mainly when he's intently engaged on projects and needs to focus, and when he's doing reading in the library- although he rarely goes to the library to to his projects since it's in a public space, he's rather not have his music accidentally blast out while some pop music is playing...he'd much rather have it be Ghost.

So when you're over at the Ignihyde dorm to assist him with some new gidget, he asks you to put on some music to alleviate the silence (not that he particularly minds silent moments when it's around you, but music helps him focus). You don't even think twice before putting on one of Ghost's songs.

His shoulders IMMEDIATELY tense up because Idia's thinking "oh my gosh they got onto one of MY playlists, they're going to see everything I have, they're going to judge me omg omg"

But then you apologize for your music, and poor Idia relaxes straight away when he realizes that it's your music you're playing instead of his!

He definitely didn't think you'd listen to that kind of stuff, but who is he to complain when there's a common music-vibe between you two??

MALLEUS DRACONIA

"Hey, Mal, you want to listen to some of my music?" You ask, holding out an earbud as the two of you sit together in the library.

Of course he's going to jump on the opportunity to hear some human music! Now, Malleus has mostly heard classical music, but he's heard bits and pieces of other pop songs here and there!

But as soon as he pops in the earbuds (after you painstakingly explain to him how to wear it), he goes silent and stock-still.

His eyes dilate and he's...just totally frozen (have you seen those memes of people listening to hardcore metal and putting their headphones on little hyperactive kids, who then go still? Yeah, that's how he is)

"This is superb music, my darling, did you make this yourself?" He's so excited, finally speaking once you turn off the music. You have to explain to Malleus that no, you didn't make any of this music, it's all stuff from other people.

Nonetheless, despite whatever vibe you give off, Malleus thinks that it's wonderful, and now will continue to associate this type of music with you forever and all eternity. Expect it to be playing every time you visit the Diasomnia dorm.

And everyone else in the dorm is going to be subjected to listening to it, as well. They all need to be well-versed in different genres of music, Malleus claims, and this kind especially is important (because it's your music!)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Your true colors - (7/7) Violet"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a message for you from the color violet, the seventh and last of the 7 rainbow's colors. in this serie of readings about the rainbow's colors, I will try to channel about your true colors, so to help you look inside and see your most beautiful self, appreciate yourself more and hopefully provide some type of guidance if necessary. as cindy lauper would say: "your true colors are beautiful like a rainbow", so let's look at them and hear what they have to say to you and how they (you) can help you look at things in a more positive way.

violet is the color of luxury, mystery, elegance, ambition, royalty, awareness, intelligence, wisdom, miracles, passion, enlightment, knowledge (crown chakra)... in this reading, I'll try to analyze this side of your character.

you can find the other colors' readings in the pacs list in my pinned post

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

Let's start off noticing that you have a triangle shape in your pic: this is a sign of the Divine, and a very strong-based shape, often connected with the masculine and feminine too. I do think you're spiritually protected and have a good connection with the 5d, no matter if you're aware of it or not. Despite this though, at times you may doubt and spiral a bit: your wounded ego/mind may get in between your downloads and make you doubt of yourself and your ability to receive messages/your knowledge. I think you are called to shed a light onto this habit of yours so to be more in control of your abilities and self power/grounded and trust them and yourself more: this would totally help you get further in your life and more easily towards your goals (or at least give yourself the permission to try, which is something you may have learned to avoid doing for different reasons: fear of judgement, lack of self control, downplay yourself to leave space to others... you're as deserving, dear). You're ambitious and powerful, so just give it a try and you may even receive.

I feel like at times you may lose trust in the 5d too? It's like... you may stop believing. You feel like you need to focus more on your material life and get away from the spiritual one, as you need to get more practical (probably again in order to feel included and appreciated by other people around you or cause you feel like you're not being listened to as you're not receiving anything and it brings you to feel disappointment as it's probably what you've often had to experience in your life -but honestly, this could be just a test). Such feelings are normal, especially if you come from a specific background/environment: things may get confusing for your mind, you may lose hope or come back to your old self victimization pattern ("I'm not deserving/not enough"), and your doubt and self trust issues as well, may make it all more complicated, but... You have a lot inside of you, also as per your spiritual abilities, so do not let them slid away cause you fear no one would get them (if that's the case). You're the only one in need to welcome and understand them and believe in them and use them the way you feel they may resonate with your life (meaning you don't have to become a spiritual figure, you can become a doctor, for example, and still also trust your intuition when it comes to healing someone or any other kind of download).

You can manifest miracles in your life if you want to. And, especially if you're someone already into spiritual practices/divinations (but not necessarily), you can also bring enlightment to those who want to listen to you (but you need to be the first one believing in what you download and how). At times it's only a matter of finding the right people for us instead of insisting with those who are just not for us. It's okay to be different. Take your time to dig within, to bring enlightenment within yourself first and to really know yourself, your triggers, your fears, to welcome and nurture them and to realize what you really want to do and who you want to be. It's all for you, and it's up to you. Remember you're free to do what makes you feel better, but if you started trusting and being more confident in yourself at least, you could become unstoppable. Take a time out to realize all I mentioned above, follow your guts and the signs you may get (number 3, 6 and 9 may be around you or you may be born on those days/months or your astrological chart may have a focus on those houses. Whatever it is, these numbers may also hint to the Divine, self balance/enegetical balance and spiritual awakening/soul mission). Insects may sign change and transformation (you may see/hear them around you): be kind with yourself as changes are hard to deal with, so doubts and insecurities and triggers may arise more often and harshly (take it slow when it happens, give yourself time). Take care of you and stay hydrated (water may also cleanse you/help you relax).

songs: blue moon | the marcels; miss perfect | abs, nodesha

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pile 2

Pile 2, it's okay if things are unclear and confusing. The veil may not be removed for you yet, or not entirely, and you're probably called to trust and believe at this time. Even believe that your personal changes that you may be experiencing now (and may indeed add confusion to your life), are just for you and your good. Similarly to pile 1 but not exactly in the same way (you're more an evolution of that pile): I feel like you already know about this. You're already trusting, at least 99% of times. It feels as you have decided to trust yourself and fate or the Universe, despite you may not understand it entirely or be sure about it. You know that things can change at any time, that transformations require time and that you cannot control it all but can only let it flow. I feel like, deep inside, you have the belief that things are gonna be okay and you are even kinda hyped about it (despite you tend to keep yourself grounded still and not let this thought sweep you away: I think that's an okay approach, just keep being hopeful though). You can feel there's something in store but you cannot grasp it and even if at times you try to get more about it and end up hitting a wall, you know that things will still be clear at the right time. And you don't mind a little surprise here and there: like it's good to know, but it's also good to not know everything.

You seem passionate, smart and someone who likes to learn more and more. At least on your best days (which is what you're trying to move forward to, leaving pile 1's energy, almost). Your learning happens in different fields (and fields that are "different" from the usual) and maybe also your career or something about you is different or unusual; you have many interests, you like different cultures and stuff, but you also feel an attraction towards the occult and unknown and ofc you want to know more about spirituality too. If this is speaking to you, please do not block yourself and ask questions or search for resources (on youtube, books, websites...) or even through travels if you can or will get the chance (it's still a travel even to move in a different side of your town). You're someone transforming, shedding old skin like a snake, and a change of environment and mental pattern is what can make you feel renewed (also from a creative point of view, if this resonates with you: you may try to start a creative career but feel blocked. I think your crown chakra may get more downloads and guide you better the moment you find a new balance under different circumstances or in different places, seeing/experiencing something new. The more you grow comfortable in your whole new self).

Indeed try something new, do something for you. Gift yourself something. I do think you are already doing this or are on the way to, so take this as a confirmation for you being on the right track. You're slowly moving towards holding more control over your emotions (at times you may still get overwhelmed so please do also find ways to recharge/sleep/nap and set clear boundaries that won't make you downplay your needs in order to make others feel better), keep believing that you will be able to even if now you have no idea of how you'll get there. You're being guided from above even if you'r enot noticing it, so trust that you're going to be where you are supposed to be (and very likely where you want to be too). Stay open to receive and follow yourself and your guidance in the weirdest places, even where you think there's nothing for you: you never know what are Universe's plans and what can pop up for you even from a slightly negative situation (or what you perceive as such). The moment you'll find ways to be even more in control of your thoughts and fears, you're gonna reach your peak of abundance. You'll get miracles falling in your lap without you having to move a finger exactly cause you're trusting Universe's guidance. Keep going, keep trusting, keep working on you and be hopeful as you can. You're being cleansed to start a new amazing trip. And also, if you're trying to close with the past, you'll make/you're making it. Universe has your back and you kinda already know it.

song: touch | shura (canvas remix); never change | jeremy passion, melissa polinar

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pile 3

Hello pile 3, it's an honor to be around you. You know your worth, your energy is very refined, almost high mantenance. You almost feel otherwordly. Woah... You have lot of wisdom in whatever is your field, you're also gaining more and probably will get some recognition too like you may be posting online lot of stuff and have many people recognize your effort and resonate with your words. I am getting astrologers but also people good with words/communication in general. Ofc you may just be writing about some particular studies you're doing or scientific researches or anything else (maybe a thesis?). Maybe even a book. I do feel a lot of writing-communication related energy but ofc it could also relate to other fields like therapy. At times though, or for some of you, this refined energy may be more of a mask you wear to feel better about yourself or to feel like you're deserving, especially if you resonate with the online world or public world versus private world. It feels like in real life (or in private) you may look or act or be different from how your energy feels online/publicy, and you're kinda avoiding it or neglecting that. I think you may still fear being judged for your looks(?) or for what you believe, while online it got easier for you to find your audience and even more your place. Do not block your light: let it shine. It's okay to be different (I said it in another pile too, so if you were called by it as well.. well, confirmation x2) and it's so very okay to be you.

Let yourself shine the way you're supposed to. Others will judge you anyway, let them be triggered and don't mind. They're just projecting their insecurities and fears onto you, it's not you the problem anyway. You have a way with words and you can bring so much clarity to others for the way you connect all the infos and dots, and maybe you also have clairs' abilities that support you in this, so do not stop yourself when you feel like you can use your words to help: cause you can really help and heal those around you, even simply through your presence and true energy (the one you show shamelessly online). Stand strong, be true to yourself and follow your heart guidance. And heal your heart too (I suggest you to take the Green and Blue pac too, if you want/feel called to).

I think you have many dreams, you are ambitious and a huge desire within you, and honestly the moment you learn how to take control over your mind and balance it so that your insecurities and past throat chakra blockages (you may have been downplayed or shut up/talked over often, or not listened to, so you kinda lowered your voice out of habit, feeling unworthy and not good enough.. but it was others not being able to listen to your wisdom and inner knowledge -you may download directly from the Source, how amazing!), you'll find your place, your happiness and your stage and public. You'll shine so much and be a very important figure in the life of many. Be it online or in your area/where you're gonna be (Erin Brockovich-style). Keep working on your emotional side, ground yourself, and see your worth most of all. Don't shut down please, we need you and your abilities. I think you may be called by a specific field/volunteering/association maybe even human rights-related ones, so just follow your own guidance and take your own time to let your voice be heard also irl. You're here to help us but also to make yourself happy the way it resonates the most with your soul, so do not close off to that to let others have control and power over you. You're a special being, please shine bright and let yourself be found, seen and heard with no fear.

song: nowhere fast | ateller; one of a kind | the gaia corporation

[smytherines]

∇owen (make it fluffy? pretty please?)

A fluffy aging/old age headcanon for Owen 💜

(I'm having kind of an emotional day so... sorry in advance)

Okay. In order for Owen to actually grow old, this has to be an au where he doesn't die on the staircase. I think there'd be a long, complicated, painful reconciliation process, but ultimately Curt and Owen would get back together. In this version of reality they get out of the spy game, and have a remote little place somewhere far away from either of their countries. Maybe Costa Rica or something like that. So let's take all that as read.

I like to think that Owen gets to have a home. A real home. That someday Curt brings home a stray dog he finds on the side of the road and Owen is dead set against having a dog, but eventually he and the dog become inseparable. I like to think that he gets a little patch of land, and spending his time growing things- beautiful flowers, vegetables he uses to make dinner- helps to heal something in him. Something he thought was broken forever after the fall.

I think as Owen gets into his 40s, a lot of the injuries he sustained in the fall start to get worse- arthritis in the places he had breaks, scar tissue, etc. Modern knee replacement surgeries last for around 15 years. I'd assume 1950s joint replacements are not quite as durable, so maybe ten years on he needs to have surgery to replace the worn out knee and hip replacements Chimera did for him.

And even though they've made a lot of progress, Owen hides how much pain he's in for a long time because he's terrified that Curt would leave him- if not for needing surgery to begin with, then certainly for all the care he would need for the long recovery afterwards. Curt wasn't there after the fall. He doesn't know how bad things were. Owen explained some of it to him, but couldn't bring himself to talk about having trouble walking, needing help to go to the bathroom, being constantly on the verge of tears for months because the pain was unbearable. The stuff nobody likes to talk about with injuries like that.

He has a lot of insecurities about himself that he didn't have when they were together before- burns, scars, limited mobility, chronic pain. His body is different now, and it's a long, slow, horrible grieving process to deal with that.

But eventually he has to have these joints replaced. He could hide the pain, but he can't hide it from Curt when his knee starts suddenly giving out on him. He was using a cane only on really bad pain days before, but as the joints start to break down he has to use it every day. So he gives Curt an out, tells him to go, maybe even tries to push him away. Owen tells himself that this would be easier for him to survive than Curt seeing the reality of his injuries after the surgeries and choosing to leave when Owen needs him the most. At least this way they're parting on terms Owen has some control over.

But Curt is older now. He's had a chance to be in a real relationship. The kind of thing where you wake up together and go to sleep together and have a home and a life together. And also he's stubborn as fuck. Curt has never had a problem caring about people, but he's never really been able to care for someone. To take care of someone. Hell, he could barely take care of himself sometimes. But he refuses to leave. He refuses to let Owen push him away. He chooses to commit, to stay, even if its messy and uncomfortable.

I think before all this, Curt was probably doing some defense/security contractor work- there's plenty of it out there for someone with his background. He does enough to pay the bills, which isn't much. And in his spare time he takes up woodworking. It keeps him busy. Keeps him doing something with his hands, something he gets to be creative with. So when Owen comes back home after having these big surgical procedures, Curt has built a little ramp so the wheelchair can get up the stairs. He's put up railings and hand-holds everywhere he can think of. He rebuilt a couple of doorframes to make them wider. He made a little cart on wheels that fits over the wheelchair, so Owen can still prepare and cook food if he's up for it. He really goes wild with it. He's still him, he still struggles to say how he feels in words, but he finds other ways to express it. He takes care of Owen's little garden while Owen is recovering (and accidentally pulls half of it up because he doesn't know the difference between a weed and a growing vegetable, but it's the thought that counts)

And they get through it. Curt understood on an intellectual level what happened to Owen after the fall, but didn't really have any way of knowing exactly what it means to be that injured, that dependant on the people around you to survive. So this thing that can and does drive a lot of couples apart (seriously look up the stats on men leaving their partners when they become sick/injured, its bad) ends up bringing them closer together. It ends up soothing that constant fear that Owen has had ever since they got back together- that at any moment Curt might just get sick of him or decide he isn't worth the trouble and leave him again. It helps Curt understand how vulnerable Owen was when Chimera convinced him to work for them.

Eventually Owen heals up, the chronic pain issues go back down to his post-fall baseline. He is still a full-time cane user, but Curt loves to find the most beautiful downed branches, exotic hardwoods, and make Owen a variety of canes. He gets into woodcarving so he can decorate them. He tells Owen that the cane makes him look distinguished, that its actually kinda hot. And Owen chooses to believe him.

By the time Owen is in his late 50s, maybe early 60s, he's a full time wheelchair user. He can walk short distances with a cane, but for the most part its better for him to just use the chair. But thats okay, because the house is pretty well adapted for him already. Curt helps him when he wants to tend to his garden, and he makes big family dinners whenever Tatiana and Barb come to visit.

Curt's mom visits while she's still alive, and although Curt and Owen never outright tell her about them, she knows. She knows the same way a kid knows that their unmarried aunt with short hair and a longterm female roommate is probably a lesbian, even if nobody ever says that word in front of them. She treats Owen like a son.

That's my soft, sappy, overly sentimental alternate universe headcanon for Owen Carvour growing old. That someone cares about him. Someone cares for him. Not because he's useful, not because he has skills they can exploit for their benefit. That Curt cares for Owen just because he loves him. And Owen loves Curt.

My dumb fluffy headcanon is that after the first half of their lives being so brutal and violent and painful, they get to have a second chance. A second chance they never should have gotten. A chance to find things that are beautiful and wonderful and hopeful. And they take that chance together.

[last-sprout]

Last Sprout Dev Diary - Jan 10, 2025

Hello, and welcome to the new year! After the break, I'm here for another dev diary - this one being a bit more about something conceptual. If you want to read the last dev diary from December, you can do so here.

If this is the first one you're reading, I'm @oneominousvalbatross, and I'm the tech side of the sprout team! This week I mostly worked on status effects, but I want to take some time to talk about a broader, more conceptual topic, and save the full breakdown for next week.

My poor boy, who has every disease.

Something I don't think I've really specified before in these dev diaries is my background in game dev, or, rather, my lack of background. I started seriously learning how to code a bit over a year ago, and entered my first game jam in February of 2024.

(The game was barely functional, but it did exist so like, there's something.)

My academic background is in philosophy (simultaneously the best and worst thing tbh), and apart from being pretty good with computers in a broad sense I didn't really have much to go on for this project. I'm bringing this up because I'm going to be talking about something that I had to figure out for myself, but that might be like, compsci 105 or something if you went through school for it. That said though, if you have always kind of wanted to make games, you can absolutely make games! I didn't think I was a math person, or a coding person, until I started doing it.

Game Development is Hard

I'm going to assume that software development in general is hard, but I haven't really done that, so I'm talking about game dev. I spent around two weeks not touching the game, and when I came back, the first thing I noticed was just how hard it was to get my head back around something with this many systems! This was also something I ran headlong into when working on that game jam, I reached a point in like, a week where I couldn't touch any system without potentially breaking every other system.

The solution I use, and the reason why I could come back to this without completely losing my mind, is to reduce the number of access points into a system to the absolute bare minimum. For example, we can look at the animation system. It's really complicated! It needs to be able to swap the sprites out on a variety of different renderers, it needs to be able to adjust animation speeds, control shader parameters, and it needs to be able to queue up multiple animations in sequence, plus it needs to send out events on animation end so that I can use them to time up other game actions.

If I was to condense all of this into a few sentences: A system can be as complicated as it needs to be, but try to envision it in its own little box, with precisely one entrance/exit. If you need to spawn a projectile, you should really just be able to go, like, SpawnProjectile(projectile), with as little external work as possible. This means if you need to completely rewrite how spawning projectiles works, you can do that, and all the other classes that spawn projectiles can still just do their thing.

A helpful diagram

The way I would've done this originally would have been to have, like, a SpriteAnimator class with a 'speed' field. I'd set it to one by default, and then whenever I need that speed to be different, I'd have whatever object needs to change the speed go in and set the speed to whatever. If you've done a lot of programming, you probably immediately realized the tons of problems this could cause - problems into which I ran headlong.

What do you do when you want one animation to play at a certain speed, then go back to the previous speed when it's done? If you do, do you assume that the speed was set to 1 before, and just reset it, or do you have one of the two objects involved store the previous speed to go back to it? If you do, what happens if, halfway through an animation, another object butts in to adjust the speed again? Say you're playing an animation at half speed, and then a speed buff gets applied that's supposed to last for a minute. Your speed buff goes in, sets the faster speed, the animation suddenly starts playing faster, then when the animation is finished, the object that was waiting to reset the speed goes back in and sets the speed to 1, leaving the animation playing at the default speed when it's supposed to be faster.

These kinds of problems will always be a risk, but in my specific case I split the speed at which an animation plays out into three places. First of all, an animation has a frame rate, which is meant to never change. We do most of our animating at 12 fps (on twos, I think is what you call it in the traditional animation world? idk, not a 2d animator), and each animation object keeps track of its frame delta (1 / frame rate) so that the controller can progress through the frames at the right speed.

However, we don't submit the animation to the controller in its unaltered form. Instead, we have a data structure called a PlayableAnimation. This contains the animation itself, but it also has the speed at which the animation should be played, as well as some other useful info that might change between two instances of the same animation. A controller maintains a stack of playable animations and can look at the individual speed of each one as it progresses through.

On top of that, there's a final speed modifier that can be submitted along with the playable animation, without changing its values. This way, if I want to play an animation at double speed for whatever reason, I don't necessarily have to set the value for the entire controller, I can just say this animation should be faster, and nothing else. Some animations have different frame rates, or are re-used with different speeds for different purposes, and I can do all that configuration without having to put all that weight on one field.

All of this sounds wildly complicated, and it kind of is, but importantly, if you're playing an animation from any other system, all you do is type in "Controller.PlayAnimation(animation)". You can also go like, "Controller.PlayAnimation(animation, speed: 1.5)" if you want it to play faster, but all of that stuff is handled completely without additional input. This is what lets me come back to the game and keep working on it when it's been months since I've touched a part of it.

Why This is Relevant Right Now

Status effects seem simple, but they kind of need to touch every other system at least a little bit, which is why I spent all that time talking about making systems. A status effect needs to be able to do things like apply damage, but it also needs to be able to play animations or sounds, and it doesn't always want to play those things on the source of the effect.

Some demos for the animations different status effects will use.

Plus, this is a roguelite, so we need to be able to add and modify status effect stuff within the upgrade system, which might mean modifying the magnitude of the effect, changing colors on animations, or tying other things into the effect when it goes off! As long as each of those systems has the cleanest possible entry/exit points, this is doable, but it's been a long battle making sure the game can keep moving forward and not get mired in constant bugfixing and complexity management.

I have a lot of cool game design thoughts on the effects themselves, but I think I'll leave that for a later week. As per usual, thanks for reading, feel free to send any questions or thoughts here or to @oneominousvalbatross, and I'll see you next week!

[liminalpsych]

So the EPIC: The Musical concept album is fully released and finished now. Ithaca Saga (the final saga) dropped on Christmas Day, and it's probably one of my favorites in the musical. Some of the most solid storytelling, and really consistently good music across the whole saga. I can't turn my writing brain off, though, and part of how I work on my own writing is dissecting what makes something work for me in media, and what doesn't work for me. So I figured I'd share instead of keeping it all bottled up. ;>

The Challenge: Beautiful, perfect, no notes. Anna Lea's vocals - incredible. "Though I never thought that these would be the lengths we'd go for love" hits so hard every time I hear it.

The only part that listeners seem to get confused on is "But I don't know how much longer I'll last since I saw that storm / And though it was so close to our kingdom, it was far from the norm / unless / Oh, could it be some kind of sign / that my world is all about to change" - many of the reactors I've seen spend a long while going "does she mean the storm from the Ocean Saga or the storm from 600 Strike? Does she think Odysseus is definitely dead or does she think he's maybe coming back soon?" - whereas I thought it was obvious that Penelope was talking about the 600 Strike storm, was hopeful that it was a sign that Odysseus was returning, and was buying him time to get back. Probably the right staging/animation/choreography would fix this confusion just fine.

Hold Them Down: Everything I hoped it would be and more (but that animatic by mircsy??? holy crap I did not expect that. incredible yet horrifying, as perhaps I should expect by now from mircsy). Appalling yet catchy villain song. Ayron Alexander's vocals are unfairly good. (I wasn't taken by surprise at the lyrics, I'd thoroughly spoiled myself with the demos.) Also that faltering cello at the beginning that seems to symbolize the failure to string the bow??? Brilliant. Jay's at his best when he's doing compositional/musical/instrumental storytelling, imho.

The brief, swift exposition of "don't you know the prince is not around / I heard he's on a diplomatic mission / and I heard today he comes back to town" works really well, I think, even if you don't know the Odyssey. Gives us a reference point in time, context, events. We don't have to linger on what he was doing, why, how long, etc; we don't have to follow the diplomatic mission; we just need to know he was gone and now he's coming back into town.

Lines that go unfairly hard: "break his pride, his trust, his faith, and his bones", "When the crown wonders where the prince is / Only the ocean and I will know", .....the entire sexual assault "hold them down" section but I'm not gonna quote it because holy crap it was also incredibly icky (but that's why it goes so hard, it was so effective at doing exactly that, while staying in the realm of allusions/imagery instead of explicitly stating it).

(I have been exercising such self-restraint at not engaging with people who are trying to use the Antinous depiction as fuel for Calypso discourse. So much self-restraint. I might have to rant about it on tumblr to avoid responding to people on other social media platforms. Engaging will not be productive and I need to continue to exercise this self restraint. aaa)

Odysseus was a wild ride, though probably the song most in need of revisions. So many callbacks that worked so well! The "O-DY-SSE-US" in the background mirroring PO LY PHE MUS? The lower register that I didn't realize Jay could even reach? Athena hints? Telemachus?? Scylla torches reference??? So good.

This song has some of the strongest and weakest lines in the whole saga. It could be easily solved by just scrapping the whole discussion of the weapons room door being unlocked. It's just confusing, everyone gets confused by it, it's unnecessary complication, I don't know why it needs to be emphasized so much. They find the weapons in the room where Odysseus hid them, no one comments on doors being locked or not because it's not important, Telemachus still shows up, fight ensues, song is now no longer 5 and a half minutes long, everything is improved.

Seriously. this line and its meter/scanning is just. bad. talky in a bad way. "I find it hard to believe that the sharpest of kings / Left his armory unlocked / So what?" ... Actually, you know what? They could even keep "Brothers, we've got company and he's made a grave mistake / Left the weapons room unlocked, and now they're ours to take" - like, I think that'll cover the whole "Telemachus unlocked the weapons room, not Odysseus" just fine. Mentioning it earlier, and mentioning Odysseus being sharp, just leads listeners to think it's a trap by Odysseus, and then because of that mental priming, it's really hard to pick up that the later line indicates that Telemachus left the door unlocked. (I didn't catch it until someone pointed it out, and then it seemed obvious afterwards.)

Strong lines: "I come back and find my palace desecrated, sacked like Troy", "In the heat of battle at the edge of the unknown", and ESPECIALLY "My mercy has long since drowned / It died to bring me home" like WHAT. what. that's so good. ("And as long as you're around / My family's fate is left unknown" is a little weaker, feels a little clunky, but I wouldn't know how to fix that one.)

I Can't Help But Wonder felt eerily like Dear Theodosia from Hamilton, though it was still very good in its own right. (Seriously though. Try singing "Dear Theodosia" while playing "I Can't Help But Wonder" - so many parallels and they overlap amusingly well.) Athena showing up was delightful. Loved the poignancy and bittersweetness. And was it just me, or did Athena's quickthought and piano sound almost... wounded? Limping, faltering? Heartbreaking. Again, Jorge's instrumental storytelling is so good.

Something about Odysseus's response to Athena bugs me. It's the delivery, maybe. I really like the approach of "Odysseus doesn't get to see a world where we don't have to live this way, he can't imagine it for himself, he's been through too much" and the long pause between Athena's verse and his response with the slow ticking. I looove that. I guess maybe I want the ache of it to be more emphasized on Odysseus's part. I think it really would just take a slight delivery difference to make it hit for me, which is a singing choice. Or an adjustment to that last pair of lines ("But I've got one endeavor / There's a girl I have to see") which just feels... not quite where it could be, I guess. (The A/B/A/B rhyme scheme with short lines sometimes feels amateurish and clunky to my ear, I think, especially if the phrasing feels a bit forced to make a rhyme.)

Could You Fall In Love With Me Again: Wonderful except for one clunky section, and I have a probably-controversial quibble with the end. Also, Gigi animatic in full color????? omg. So poetic to end with a Gigi animatic. I didn't recognize the style at first until Odysseus came on screen, because of the fully colored linework wtf. It was beautiful. And that swelling "Just A Man" instrumental reprise of specifically the section talking about the desire to go home?? aaaaa so good. I sing the lyrics every time even though it's an instrumental, I can't help myself: "I'm just a man / Who's trying to go home / Even after all the years away from what I've known / I'm just a man / Who's fighting for his life / Deep down I would trade the world to see my son and wife / I'm just a man".

The wedding bed / olive tree section... I was super excited when I heard the first line ("See that wedding bed"). I had thought for a bit there that we weren't going to get the olive tree reference, and I love that part of the original Odyssey. How outraged Odysseus is in the poem when Penelope asks him to move the bed. >D And he was just as outraged in the song! It was great - but the lyrics were... mm. It felt clunky. The line "How could you say this" could be cut entirely, the sentiment is shown just fine in the rest of the stanza and feels kind of forced/doesn't quite scan, he could just start with "I had built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat" - the rest of Odysseus' verse there is fine though.

Then Penelope's response of "Only my husband knew that / So I guess that makes him you" .... "so I guess"? really? ......it bothers me every time. EVERY TIME. It feels out of place, overly modern even for the modernization of EPIC, and it also weakens Penelope's (beautifully) impassioned response. Same vibe as "Dumbledore said calmly," you know? She's not guessing. She knows. "Only my husband knew that / Now I know that makes him you" maybe (I'm spitballing here, there's got to be something better. let Teagan at it, she's a stellar lyricist). Or, if the point is to prove to Odysseus that he's the same man, that he's not a monster / not an entirely different person than the man she fell in love with, then "Only my husband knew that / Don't you see that makes him you" could work to emphasize that point. But "I guess" does noooothing but undermine the tone.

This is probably just me (well, and a couple other people I listened to the musical with): I really. Really. Really feel like this song could have ended with "waiting, waiting... for you" + swell of Just A Man instrumental reprise. That felt like the end. It was a really good, solid end. I don't like the "how long has it been / 20 years / I love you" - we have reiterated that it's been 20 years so many times in this saga alone, they obviously love each other, that was shown beautifully in the entire "Would You Fall In Love With Me Again" song prior to this, they even said it - "I would fall in love with you over and over again" ... the afterword is extraneous and imho weakens the power of the ending. It feels like an afterthought. It feels tacked on and it feels inauthentically saccharine. Buuuuut in every reaction video I've seen, people seem to get extra emotional at it and seem to love it, so maybe I just have too little romance in me. ;)

...I actually do love this song, I think it's very strong, but that's why the above things stand out so much, because the rest of the song is so strong that they're jarring in contrast. Lines I think are incredible: "your smile torn", "left a trail of red on every island / as I traded friends like objects I could use", and of course "would you fall in love with me again, if you knew all I've done".

But overall, it was very satisfying, and I can't wait to see what the final version looks like after theater workshops and/or animation studio workshopping or... whatever form the final productions take.

...I should probably make multiple posts so I don't turn this into an even longer essay. Let's keep this one focused on Ithaca Saga and I'll post thoughts on the entire musical separately. (I might make one of these for each saga. We'll see how long the hyperfixation lasts.)

[astragreenwoode]

We've all been on the internet long enough to know where this is going. ( ͡°⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ⁄ʖ⁄ ⁄ ͡°)

I'm chronically on the Petrigrof side of Twitter the last six months or so and it's been such a wild ride. I'm a big fan of when artists surround Betty with all of Simon's alternates, but was baffled when I saw no one referenced this iconic meme. Shame on you, fandom. I'll do it myself.

More below the cut.

As you can see, I'm getting better at drawing people! I still can't really do hands, though. Good thing hands in Adventue Time aren't that complicated to draw. Betty is my muse and I'm not sure if I wanna be her or be sandwiched between her and Simon. Should I make a kinsona? I'll think about it.

Also, this is the first time I've ever drawn any of Simon's Ice iterations, so I'm really pleased with how they all turned out; especially his silver-fox self. He's the hottest. And I don't usually draw backgrounds, but doing the Ice Kingdom was surprisingly easier than I expected it to be.

. . .

I hope you like my work and please let me know what you think, as I really appreciate it and use it as motivation. Be sure to follow me and come back for me, please!

Stay wild, free, and safe, my dears!

-Astra