#Once again I have no idea what I'm posting

[casscainmainly]

Cass, Names, and the Black Bat Era

With a Black Bat mention in 2025 (read Batgirl (2024) #4!!), it seems as good a time as any to look back on one of Cass' most fleeting identities. We all know why Cass took up Batgirl and Orphan, but we don't get to see the thought process behind Black Bat. I'm going to consider why Cass might have chosen Black Bat as her name, and what it means for her relationship to Bruce and the Bat symbol.

This analysis will purely consider events from the characters' perspectives, ignoring authorial intent. There is like a negative percent chance any of the connections I make here were intended, and Black Bat probably was just a name they randomly picked. This is essentially me trying to make sense of the little Cass bits we get during the Batman Reborn era.

Background: Batgirl and Orphan

Growing up nameless, Cass associates names with personhood and autonomy. Batgirl was the first (and the most important), and a large part of Batgirl (2000) showed how Cass only thinks of herself as Batgirl.

Batgirl (2000) #7

"You need to relax, Cass--sorry--Batgirl." Barbara's 'sorry' indicates that Cass' identity is purely Batgirl, disliking any other name. (For a more in-depth exploration of this moment, see renaroo's meta!). This shows how it's not just the mantle, but the name - the actual word - that matters to Cass.

A very similar thing happens in Batman & Robin Eternal #26:

Once again, Cass is extremely particular about what people call her. And once again she rejects one identity in favour of another - she struggles with being more than one thing. Whatever identity she adopts, it contains her whole self.

Which is why when she loses herself, she becomes nameless:

Batgirl (2000) #73 / Red Robin #17

In the first panel, Cass has just 'killed' Shiva and forsaken Batgirl. "She thought she was a bat. But she came to find she wasn't that either." Without the bat, she becomes a girl "named Cain." While not technically nameless, Cain is just her father's last name - she has no first name of her own. This namelessness occurs again in Red Robin. After Bruce tells Cass to give Steph Batgirl, Cass is left without the bat again - and, again, she becomes nameless. Tim gives her a bat costume, asks her what she needs, and she says "to... just... be...".

If she takes up another name, she will become something - a name is not only identification, but transformation. When she has no idea who she is or who she wants to be (as seen in the end of Batgirl (2000) and Red Robin), she chooses namelessness.

The Gift

Cass remaining nameless not only shows her lack of identity, but her rejection of Bruce and the Batfamily.

Red Robin #17

Here, Tim says it doesn't matter what Cass calls herself, they'll always be family. Cass' answer is cryptic: "But family is not always home..." If we look at Cass' history, the only times she leaves her family is when their relationship becomes unbearable. She runs from David Cain because he makes her kill; she leaves Babs because she calls her stupid; she leaves Gotham the first time because of Steph's death; she goes to Hong Kong because Bruce makes her give away Batgirl. Family isn't home for Cass only when something awful happens.

For Cass, family and names have always been linked. In my gift post, I talked about how Batgirl was presented as a gift, and how Babs says gifts are things that make you "feel[...] not alone" (Azrael: Agent of the Bat #61). Batgirl, a gift, makes Cass feel "not alone." The mantle represents her connection to the Batfamily.

In fact, Red Robin parallels the original gifting of the Batgirl suit:

Legends of the Dark Knight #120 / Red Robin #17

Tim explicitly links the gift of the Bat symbol to family: "the...family... has settled down. I thought maybe... it was time to make it all official." (This also somewhat parallels Bruce's adoption of Cass, which Tim was also there for). But Cass doesn't accept the gift this time, telling Tim that Steph is already Batgirl, and that 'family isn't always home'. She keeps the suit, but the ambivalence in her response shows her ambivalence to her family.

Batgirl and Orphan are both familial names, one linked to the Bats, one linked to David Cain. Names to Cass represent both her own identity and her relationship to other people. When Batman took Batgirl away, he was essentially revoking her place in the family (Batman R.I.P happens right after her adoption too). Though we never explicitly get Cass' feelings, her hesitance at Tim's gift says a lot.

What Was Tim's Gift Anyway?

When Tim first sees Cass, he thinks to himself:

Red Robin #17

This is a great insight into what Tim was actually offering. The first thought reveals that Tim wasn't suggesting Cass be Batgirl again, which Cass assumed. He knows Cass doesn't want to be "who she was" - he thinks she's being true to what "she wanted to become."

What does he think Cass wants to become?

Batgirl (2000) #59

In Robin/Batgirl: Fresh Blood, Cass tells Tim the "the only thing" she's ever wanted was to be Batman. This is the only thing she wants - when Tim says she's being 'true to what she wanted to become', it's likely he's thinking of this conversation. So when Tim offers the batsuit, he's offering the bat mantle. He's offering what she always wanted to be: Batman.

But Cass' conception of Batman is clearly tied to Bruce ("take over for him when he's... done"), which in turn ties the concept of Batman to Gotham. Cass does become the Bat of Hong Kong, but she doesn't take the Batman name (which she totally could, since Bruce and Dick are sharing the name; or she could be 'the bat' or whatever).

Instead, she chooses Black Bat. Both Batgirl and Orphan are taken from other people, so this is strikingly the only name Cass invented (even Kasumi was probably not her invention? It was a disguise anyway). But was Black Bat actually Cass' invention?

Tai'Darshan All Along

Batgirl (2000) #40

Black Bat is also taken from someone - from Cass' first canon love interest, the one and only Tai'Darshan. I seriously don't think DC knew they were taking the name from him, but they did and that means Tai is extremely important to understanding Cass' Black Bat era.

Because Tai doesn't just represent teenage hormones. Like Lady Shiva, Tai'Darshan was a foil to Batman, someone who opposed him in almost every aspect. He is Cass' first proper rebellion, kickstarting the downfall of Cass and Bruce's relationship in Horrocks' run; he also died because of Bruce's interference, something that Bruce himself thinks is the reason Cass doesn't trust him anymore.

Batgirl (2000) #47

Though Bruce and Cass make up in #50, there is something permanently secretive about Black Wind and Cass' relationship. Bruce says "she won't tell me what" happened, and Tai's last conversation with Cass is about secrets:

Batgirl (2000) #44

Tai'Darshan represents Cass' secret side, a side "buried" from everyone (particularly Bruce). Tai's reference to Cass' "real name" is poignant - in a way, he was the first person who liked Cass for Cass, who asked her to take off her mask and admired her face underneath. He never knew who she really was, but he loved her anyway. The 'bat' in Black Bat doesn't refer to Bruce, but to Cass. It makes sense that at a time of complete identity loss - after giving up Batgirl at Bruce's orders - Cass would turn to a nickname from someone who caused her falling out with Bruce, who represents secrets, rebellion, and a self defined outside of Batman.

Black Bat

Gates of Gotham #4

I wrote elsewhere about how Gates of Gotham, and this conversation with Dick in particular, is Cass rebelling against Bruce's (and DC's) decision to boot her from Gotham. In GoG #5, she tells Tim she's staying. Black Bat as a mantle is not really Cass becoming 'the Bat' of any place - it's something different, something new. It's a reconfiguration of the Bat symbol as something that's hers.

I think Tim bookending this Black Bat experience is important, too. He gives her the Bat symbol in Hong Kong - she comes back to Gotham to tell him she's returning permanently. Black Bat and Red Robin are syntactically similar, and Black Bat is very similar to one of Tim's name suggestions ("Black Robin"). For Tim, Red Robin was punishment made into redemption; he took the name from Jason and made it his own. Black Bat, in its own way, is Cass doing the same. By taking a nickname from Tai'Darshan, she is using the bat name/symbol without attaching it to Bruce; in fact, the memory of Tai is against Bruce. She's taking back the symbol that means so much to her and making it her own.

Conclusion

This was honestly a big excuse to remind people that Black Bat comes from Tai'Darshan. As one of 4 Tai fans on this website, I just think his role in Cass' life is really interesting and underappreciated! His storyline may be awful in every way, but I'll always have a soft spot for him as a character.

Also I was writing this before Batgirl (2024) #4 came out and it does somewhat complicate this reading. Shiva is implying that Black Bat, like Orphan (and Kasumi) are identities that Cass affects, that she's "aspiring to be somebody else". I don't think Shiva is being quite fair - Orphan, for instance, is as much in defiance of David Cain as it is an homage to him. But it's interesting that even when Cass is constructing her own identity, she consistently defaults to using other people's names. In that way Shiva is right - for Cass, names are gifts, so she never tries to name herself. She also, even in this reading, clings to the image of the bat. I'm highly interested where Brombal's investigation into Cass' identity will take her, especially in regards to superhero and legacy mantles.

[octaneink]

Come take your chance with me

Will Lenney x Fem!Reader

Summary : The reader likes Will, she decides to show that she loves him in the most romantic way she can think of. Write a song dedicated to him. Now she just has to post it privately on YouTube so James can have a look at it... Right? Warnings : none (unless you count some cheesy ass writing) Notes : I have once again decided to write something based off a song that just got me in the mood! Its a bop, 10/10 would recommend. Also, I know nothing about music theory, I looked up most of this stuff on Google, I apologise if I got it wrong.

You sit cross-legged on your bed, your guitar resting against your knees, the hum of your desk lamp casting long, flickering shadows on the notebook sprawled open in front of you. The room is quiet except for the occasional creak of your chair and the faint hum of the city outside your window. Your mind, however, is anything but quiet.

Will’s smile flickers in your thoughts—that easy, crooked grin that’s been haunting you for months. You can still see it so clearly: the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, the way he’d leaned in close to hear you over the noise of the bar that first night, his breath warm against your ear. Focus, you chide yourself, shaking your head as if it will dislodge the memory.

The melody has been looping in your head for days, an insistent rhythm that feels like it’s woven itself into your very being. The instrumental beat, the steady thrum of the would be drums—it’s like an earworm no one else can hear, a secret soundtrack only you know. It’s there when you wake up, humming in the back of your mind as you brush your teeth. It’s there when you’re scrolling through your phone, tapping out the rhythm on your thigh. It’s there when you’re lying in bed at night, the notes swirling in the dark like fireflies you can’t catch.

But the words? The words are a mess.

“I’m lost in your eyes"

You pause, tapping your pen against the paper. I'm lost in your eyes? Too cliché. Too… obvious. But the next line comes unbidden, as if your heart has been waiting for permission to speak:

“But you’re the cool to my calm each day…”

You wince. Cool to my calm? That sounds like something you’d find on a motivational poster in a dentist’s office. You nearly scratch it out, but the rhythm of the words keeps your hand still. It isn’t perfect, but it’s honest. And isn’t that what matters?

Your mind drifts back to Will. You’d met on a night out, of course. James, your best friend since college, had dragged you to some trendy sports bar downtown. “You need to get out more,” he’d insisted. “You’re turning into a hermit.”

You’d rolled your eyes but let him drag you along anyway. And there he was: Will Lenney, standing at the bar with a drink in hand, his laugh cutting through the noise like a beacon. James had introduced you, and Will had flashed you that grin—the one that makes your stomach do somersaults.

Will said your name, “Nice to meet you. James talks about you all the time.”

“All good things, I hope,” you’d replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Mostly,” Will had teased, his eyes sparkling.

That had been six months ago. Six months of late-night conversations, of stolen glances, of moments that felt like they could mean something if either of you dared to say it out loud.

You sit cross-legged on your bed, your guitar resting against your knees. The chorus has been nagging at you all day, a snippet of melody that refuses to leave you alone. You strum a chord, humming under your breath.

“Honey dance with me

Come take your chance with me"

It’s catchy, you have to admit. But is it too much? Too obvious? You groan, flopping back onto your pillows. Writing a song about someone who has no idea how you feel is harder than you’d thought.

Your phone buzzes on the night stand.

Will (9:42 PM): You free this weekend? James and I are filming a collab. Thought you might want to hang after.

Your heart leaps, but you force yourself to play it cool.

You (9:43 PM): Depends. Will there be snacks?

Will (9:43 PM): Obviously. I’m not a monster.

You smile, your fingers itching to pick up the guitar again. Maybe you’ll figure out the bridge tomorrow.

Past you was clearly an optimist.

The bridge is giving you trouble. You’ve rewritten it three times already, but nothing feels right. Each attempt feels like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands—close, but never quite there.

“Now we’ve been losing our way

A little bit more every day…”

It’s close, but something is missing. You sigh, setting the guitar aside and reaching for your coffee. The song is almost done, but the closer you get to finishing it, the more terrified you become. What if Will hears it and realises it’s about him? What if he hates you for thinking about him in that way? What if he doesn’t?

Your phone buzzes again.

James (11:15 AM): How’s the song coming?

You (11:16 AM): It’s… coming. I think. Maybe.

James (11:16 AM): You’re overthinking it. Just finish it already.

Easier said than done.

By the end of the week, the song is done. You sit back, your fingers sore and your heart pounding. You glance at the clock and groan. You have work in the morning, but there’s no way you’re sleeping now.

Instead, you grab your phone and open your messages.

You (12:07 AM): Hey, James. You awake?

The response comes almost immediately.

James (12:08 AM): Barely. What’s up?

You (12:08 AM): I wrote something. Can you look at it? Tell me if it’s too… much.

James (12:09 AM): Send it over.

You snap a picture of the lyrics and hit send, your stomach twisting as you wait for his reply.

James (12:12 AM): This is… wow.

You (12:12 AM): Wow good or wow bad?

James (12:13 AM): Wow good. It’s raw. It’s… you. Will’s going to lose his mind when he hears it.

Your breath catches. When he hears it? You hadn’t even thought that far ahead.

You (12:14 AM): I don’t know if I can let him hear it. What if he hates it? And its still not finished…

James (12:15 AM): He won’t. Trust me.

You don’t respond, your mind racing coming up with random, horrible, horrific scenarios of what or how he’d react when he heard it.  

But then you think of his smile, of the way he’d looked at you that night at the bar, and something in your chest tightens. Maybe it’s worth the risk.

The red recording light glares at you, unblinking, as if it’s judging every note, every word, every breath. You’ve been at this for hours—days, really—trying to get it right. The song is finished, but capturing it perfectly feels impossible. You’ve already done seven takes, and now you’re on your tenth. Or is it the eighteenth? You’ve lost count.

Your voice wavers on the line “murky waters, baby,” and you stop mid-verse, groaning in frustration. You hit pause on the recording software and slump back in your chair, running a hand through your hair. It’s late—way too late—but you can’t stop now. Not when you’re so close.

You glance around your home studio, a space you’ve spent years curating. The room is small but cosy, soundproofed with foam panels you and James installed last summer. Your guitar rests on a stand next to your keyboard, and your mic—a decent condenser you saved up for—sits in front of you, its pop filter catching the soft glow of the desk lamp. Your laptop screen displays the waveform of your latest attempt. It’s not terrible, but it’s not perfect.

You take a deep breath, close your eyes, and recall how to get to where you are now.

The first day is a disaster. You’re too nervous, too stiff, too aware of every little mistake. Your voice cracks on the high notes, and you keep stumbling over the words. “Honey dance with me (oh sugar)” sounds more like a question than an invitation, and you cringe every time you play it back.

You give up after the fifth take, deciding to focus on the guitar track instead. You plug in your acoustic, adjusting the mic placement until the tone is just right. You record it clean, layering in a soft strumming pattern that matches the rhythm of the song. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.

By the third day, you’ve managed to record a decent vocal take. It’s not flawless, but it’s raw and honest, and you decide that’s better than perfect. You open your DAW—Digital Audio Workstation—and begin syncing the vocals with the guitar. You add subtle reverb to give it that dreamy, intimate feel, tweaking the EQ until your voice sits just right in the mix.

You play it back, your heart pounding as you listen to the chorus. 

It’s close. So close. But something’s missing.

By the end of the week, you’re exhausted. Your fingers are sore from playing the guitar, your throat is raw from singing, and your eyes are burning from staring at your laptop screen for hours on end. But the song is finally done.

You play it back one last time, your heart in your throat. It’s not perfect, but it’s yours. It’s you.

You open YouTube, preparing to upload the video. You set it to Private, your thumb hovering over the upload button. You’re not ready for anyone to hear it—not yet. But then your phone buzzes.

Will (1:14 AM): You up?

Your heart skips a beat. You glance at the screen, your thumb slipping as you fumble to reply.

Public.

You don’t realise your mistake until it’s too late.

You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on your nightstand. Groaning, you reach for it, squinting against the harsh light of the screen. The notifications are overwhelming—hundreds, maybe thousands, of them. YouTube comments, Twitter mentions, Instagram DMs. Your heart skips a beat as you open YouTube and see the number: 1.2M views.

Overnight.

Your stomach drops. You sit up, your hands trembling as you scroll through the comments.

“This is so beautiful. Who’s it for? 👀”

“The way she sings ‘your lips on mine’… I’m obsessed.”

“Who’s Will?? Someone find him!”

You freeze. The description. You’d written it in a sleep-deprived haze last night, not thinking anyone would actually see it.

“For Will.”

That’s all it said. No last name, no context. Just two words that now have the entire internet speculating.

You open TikTok, against your better judgement. The first video that pops up is a stitch of your chorus, overlaid with a clip of a random guy named Will from some obscure show. The caption reads: “Found him! This is the Will she’s singing about. #HoneyDanceWithMe”

The comments are worse.

“No way, that’s not him. She’s way too talented for that guy.”

“It’s obviously about Will Smith. She’s just being subtle.”

“Will SMITH?? Girl that man is married. She’s obviously talking about Will Stuart.”

“This song is a BOP. Also, Will better step up because this is breath taking.”

You close the app, your face burning. This is worse than you thought. 

You cradle your face and scream into your hands. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be private. A secret. Something you could share when you were ready—if you were ever ready.

Your phone buzzes again, and you flinch. It’s James.

James (8:57 AM): You didn’t mean to do that...right?

You (8:58 AM): NO WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT?? 

You (8:58 AM): ALSO 

You (8:58 AM): NOT HELPING!!

James (8:59 AM): Relax. It’s raw. It’s… you. Will’s been asking for your address, by the way.

Your stomach drops. Will’s been asking for your address.

You type out a response, delete it, then type it again.

You (9:00 AM): What did you tell him?

The three dots appear, then disappear, then appear again.

James (9:01 AM): Relax, I didn’t give it to him. Yet.

You groan again, louder this time. This is a nightmare. A beautiful, terrifying nightmare.

By noon, you’re a wreck. You’ve avoided social media, but the texts keep coming. Friends, acquaintances, even your mum has seen the song.

Mum (12:30 PM): Pumpkin, is this about that boy you told me about? The one with the nice smile?

You groan, flopping back onto your bed. This is a disaster. You type back a quick yes and for the moment, ignored her messages.

Your phone buzzes again.

Will (12:45 PM): Hey. You okay?

You stare at the message, your heart pounding. What do you even say? Hey, sorry I accidentally wrote a song about you and posted it online. My bad.

Before you can reply, another text comes through.

Will (12:46 PM): The song’s amazing, by the way.

Your breath catches. He’s heard it. Of course, he’s heard it. It’s everywhere.

You (12:47 PM): Thanks. I didn’t mean for it to go public.

Will (12:48 PM): I know. James told me. You okay?

You’re not sure how to answer that.

The knock comes at 1:00 PM sharp. You’ve been pacing for what feels like hours, your stomach in knots, your mind racing with a thousand what-ifs. You glance at yourself in the hallway mirror—hair a mess, still in your pajamas, and a worn old hoodie, eyes wide with panic. Great. Perfect timing.

You take a deep breath, smoothing your hair as best you can, and open the door.

There he is. Will. Standing on your doorstep, his hands shoved in his pockets, that familiar grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hair is slightly messy, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his eyes are soft, almost hesitant.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and warm.

“Hey,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. You step back to let him in, your heart hammering so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.

He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and for a moment, the two of you just stand there in the quiet of your hallway. The air feels charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks.

“So… the song,” he says finally, breaking the silence.

You wince, crossing your arms over your chest like a shield. “Yeah. The song.”

He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours. “It’s amazing. Really.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. “Thanks.”

He hesitates, then reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch is light, almost tentative, but it sends a shiver down your spine. “You could’ve just told me, you know,” he says, his voice soft.

You look up at him, your breath catching. “Told you what?”

He smiles, that same crooked grin that’s been haunting you for weeks. “That you feel the same way I do.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Will, I—”

But before you can finish, he steps closer, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. He murmurs your name, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to say anything. The song said it all.”

And then he kisses you.

It’s soft at first, tentative, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you lean into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

The kiss deepens, sweet and slow, like honey dripping from a spoon. His other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. You can feel the warmth of his body, the way his breath hitches when you slide your fingers into his hair.

It’s messy and imperfect, just like the song, but it’s real. It’s you.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“So,” he says, his voice rough, a grin tugging at his lips. “Does this mean I get to dance with you?”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you. “Shut up.”

He kisses you again, quick and playful this time. “Never.”

[skzthelomlhehe]

"The beginning of an end"

Inspired by these posts by @hyunbelievable

Synopsis: The end of a beginning is nothing but the beginning of an end. Heart once broken, now healed with sincerity. How did this happen? When did it go wrong and most of all... Where did it go wrong? Was it you or was it what? Questions remained unanswered. But for how long?

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Warning: cheating, lying, mentions of harmful thoughts, a little suggestive (if you squint your eyes)? (No I'm not making this into a smut 😭 it's relevant to the angst, trust me.)

Masterlist tag list: @bluesungology @diabolicalkitkat @capricorn-girl0112 @daysofskz-ateez @neginktn @seoul1207

Just to make it a weeee bit more painful, this is the man we're gonna be talking shit about:

Three years... It had been three years since you met Chan and the boys. Maybe it was his charisma... Maybe it was the care and love he showed to the ones around him... You always found yourself looking at chan. This strange attraction that pulled at your heart strings.

And that was why, when he finally confessed to you, you reached cloud 9. It was on your birthday, a year ago. The kids and you were out to dinner. You noticed how the boys kept giggling and teasing their leader. While you sort of had an idea that he might like you too, you would put that thought aside just to spare yourself heartbreak.

That is... Until he finally said it. Amidst the chaos of the other kids within the almost empty restaurant, he held your hand gently. The chit chattering now finally coming to a pause. "Y/N..." He spoke out softly and your breath hitched. He looked at you with such loving eyes. A gaze no one has looked at you with. "I love you, Y/N... Will you be my girlfriend?" He said it. And you lost your mind.

Having sat beside him prior to this, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. "Yes! Yes I will!" You answered excitedly and kissed him again. The restaurant erupted with 'ooh!'s and congratulatory words.

The way he looked at you, with these... These sparkly eyes... Ones that screamed love if nothing else... Oh how you loved it. How you loved seeing it. How you loved being seen by that gaze. That night, for the first time, both of you held each other in a warm embrace. A night you could never forget.

And yet... That night remained a cruel reminder... A cruel reminder of lies... Of betrayal.

It had been exactly an year since you both had been dating. It was your birthday and anniversary at the same time. You were so excited to spend the night with the love of your life in the same place where it all started.

And at the peak of your joy... Your life came crashing down. You guys were supposed to meet at 7. He was supposed to pick you up. But earlier, he had texted you in the morning saying he'd be back late cuz they had work. By late, he didn't mean he would miss dinner, right?

You adorned yourself with the dress he bought for you that he claimed to have reminded him of you. Along with pretty jeweleries, a well done hair, nice make up and his favourite perfume. You looked at yourself in the mirror, cheeks flushed from the thought of having dated him for a whole year already.

You made your way to the restaurant realising he wouldn't be able to pick you up. When you got there, you were greeted by a waiter who led you to your seat. It was a seat with a big window beside it. A cozy atmosphere. Just like how it was a year ago. "Wonder how the kids would react if they were here." You giggled, thinking about that night again.

10 minutes passed.

20 minutes passed.

No sign of chan anywhere.

You were just about to text him when your eyes trailed off to the window, when you noticed a small cafe outside. It had been there for a few months now. "I should come here with Chan someday." You smiled to yourself. But soon, that smile faded.

Chan walked into the cafe, his hand draped around the shoulders of... Another woman? Why is he going inside the cafe with a different woman that you've never met? "N-no... He wouldn't..." You mumbled. And as if to rub salt on the wound, you saw them kiss. Soft... Delicate... Loving kiss... His gaze on her was the same as it used to be on you.

Your heart thumped. Louder and louder every second. Your chest tightened and tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. You whipped out your phone, vision blurry as you typed.

{To see the chats, make sure to go here also cuz I can't add more than 5 pics so yeah 😭}

You couldn't cry. Even though your eyes urged you to, you couldn't let anybody see the hurt the man you loved caused you. You gathered up your things and stormed out. Just as you got yourself a taxi, you saw Chan running out of the cafe. It was tempting, to say the least. You want to stop and hear him out. Yell at him or slap him, maybe? But you didn't.

You hopped into the taxi, went up to your apartment and locked your door. If he knew better, Chan wouldnt come banging on your door. You knew how much he loved his reputation as an idol. He would never do anything that could ruin his image. Even if it meant he lost his lover.

What surprises you is seeing him go out like that. It was unusual. And surprising. Maybe... Just maybe... Deep down you wanted him to run after you. Grab you by the hand and kiss you. Tell you it wasn't true... You wish when you went to bed, you'd wake up and realise it was a nightmare.

As you went to bed sobbing, you desperately wished to wake up next to him, hug him tight and tell him how you had this awful nightmare. But once again, luck was not on your side.

You woke up alone. No one next to you. The space once occupied by the person you loved, the warmth of "good morning, pretty~ sleep well?" was now buried within the cruel cold of nothingness.

Your heart felt heavy, almost as if it stopped beating. You got out of bed, clothes, shoes, accessories, everything scattered everywhere. Making your way towards the mirror, you looked at yourself. Your eye make up all messed up and runny from crying. Nose red. Lipstick smudged. Your hair all over the place.

You fell to the floor, crying again. "How... How could he do this to me?!" You cried out. You loved him. You truly did. More than anyone else. You've never loved anyone like the way you loved chan. And he snatched the bits of happiness away from you.

You looked at the mirror again. You watched how pathetic you looked. How messy... How dirty... Tears trickled down your face aimlessly. You gave your heart, your soul, your body, your faith. You gave him your everything. And now? You found yourself all alone. No family... No friends... No one to lean on.

You had nothing to live for. You had nothing to look forward to anymore. You gave away your everything. You lost your everything. "I wish I could just disappear.." you mumbled, your voice hoarse from sobbing. The betrayal, the humiliation. It all came crashing down on you all at once. "What more reason do I even have to live for?"

Just then, you got a call from Hannah. You couldn't pick up. You didn't have it in yourself to pick up that call. So you just watched it ring. Your eyes unfocused, your mind numb.

As you watched the call ring and hang up on its own, she shot you a text instead, (and this is where when I saved the draft and came back, everything else that I wrote after this line was GONE. ... I'll go cry.)

You read the text through your blurry eyes. But after some point, you couldn't even do that. Tears welled up in your eyes again. You started sobbing, once again.

After crying for what felt like hours, you heard banging on your door. "Y/N!! Open your door!! It's me Hanna!!" You looked up, your eyes red from crying. Your body just as numb as your mind. Frozen... Paralysed... All you could do was silently look at the door.

"Y/N I'm gonna come in!!" Hannah yelled out again. You had given the passkey to your house to the kids and their siblings in cases of... Emergency. After all, it wasnt the first time you had thoughts of... Disappearing...

Hannah slammed the door open and ran up to your bedroom panting. Her chest heaving up and down, her eyes widened in terror as she looked at you from the door frame. "Ha-Hanna..." You cried.

She rushed to embrace you and you hugged back tightly. You had finally gotten the warmth that you so desperately craved.

Hannah helped you freshen up. She sat you down on the bed and helped you calm down. While she ordered something for you to eat, you finally told her everything.

After hearing your side of the story, she was mortified. She held you close again while you cried in her arms again.

The event left a big scar on you. Cheating in itself was painful. But having to see the one person who was the reason you live, kissing another woman on your birthday and anniversary... That broke you in ways unimaginable.

The news spread like wild fire. The kids, their siblings, their parents. Somehow everyone knew. At least the close ones did.

Hannah and Olivia played a big role in helping you out of that dark place. You got into therapy. Chan's parents reached out to apologise on his behalf. Their efforts made you realise that... They really did love you. You really were appreciated.

In the meantime, chan was drowning in guilt. He had to take a hiatus. The kids only ever looked at him in contempt. They could not recognise the leader they once so respected and loved. And Chan's parents were utterly disappointed in him. So were his siblings.

2 months passed. Your lifeless eyes shined just a little more than before. You were finally getting to a better place. And soon, you were surprised by an unusual encounter.

Read this for more context.

You never could've imagined that Seungmin of all people would reach out to you.

Honestly, you loved the way he was. His sarcastic humour, his way of making you feel safe, his earnesty. It scared you a little. You fell for someone who made you feel safe and loved, only to be betrayed after all. You didn't want to make the same mistake again. But you didn't want to stereotype Seungmin into that category either.

During the movie, while the two of you tried to grab some popcorn from the same bucket, your hands touched just a little. You both looked at each other and though the dimly lit room barely showed much of the other in front of you, you found his eyes sparkling.

But this time, the sparkle just... Felt... Different? It was something you couldn't describe in words. A type of sparkle that was missing in Chan's eyes. A few months later, when he confessed to you, you found your heart fluttering just a bit.

You were scared, terrified even. You didnt want to go through that all over again. But amidst all that... You wanted to give Seungmin a chance... You wanted to test your luck just one last time.

And that one choice ended up being the best ones you'd ever made. The other kids were highly supportive. You felt loved all over again. When dating chan, you always doubted the love others had for you. But this time? This time it was different.

You felt seen, you felt loved, appreciated and... You felt alive... Alive all over again. Now you have many reasons to live. Not just one. Not just a single individual.

You have dreams to fulfil, places to go to, experiences you want to see with your own eyes and feel things you've never felt.

You found peace. You found comfort. And you found solace in his arms. In Seungmin's arms. Your life fell apart because of Chan's mistake. But you rebuilt that life once again. And chan? Well let's just say... He didn't quite get his happy ending. Was karma real? Yeah. Did he regret it? Also yes. But who says he won't make that mistake all over again?

A cheater is a cheater.

There's no going back once you cross that line. Even if it's chan.

Moral of the story: don't take back cheaters 😤😤

Fin~

A/N: this physically hurt me to write- like- the amount of times I had to rethink my life choices 😭 I didn't realise it when I was writing this, but I sorta related this on my real life events (only the angst part unfortunately 😔) but yeah!

Just so you know, if you're going through something, you're not alone. There are people who love and appreciate you so please don't hesitate to reach out 🫶 you mean a lot to someone without even realising it. It's way to early to give up so please keep going :) you'll find your flame once again!

[cracklinhaze]

what's your favorite post-canon myster twins headcanon

no idea who the myster twins are (😉) but the MYSTERY twins hell fucking yeah dude. i'm somewhat familiar i guess. whatever.

it's not gonna surprise any of my moots or anyone who reads my stuff, but codependent!twins is my favorite.

the unspoken understanding when one of them wakes up in the middle of the night. the time it takes for them to get comfortable letting the other one go anywhere by themselves (the last time they did that, the world ended. never again. they'll just always go everywhere together forever. that's healthy, right?).

being homesick for gravity falls while they're back in piedmont.

not recognizing themselves in the mirror or photos from prior to the summer. deciding that maybe they like the new versions better, even if they have fondness and affection for the old ones.

reaching for wrists and sweater sleeves.

jokes no one else understands.

more mystery hunts.

scars you can see. scars you can't.

a newfound confidence in themselves because, despite everything, they survived, triangles be damned.

mabel carries her grappling hook in her backpack and doodles on her wrists. she picks at her scabs until they bleed. she cuts her hair shorter and smiles wider through gritted teeth. hopeful at all costs. when she laughs, it's loud. when she cries, it's all at once and messy and gross. not cute, she tells dipper. distinctly not cute.

dipper has fear. so much fear. all the time. locks arms with mabel. locks pinkies with mabel. feels safer with mabel. he comes home stronger, too, though—physically and otherwise. he spent three days alone in the apocalypse. he saved his sister. he won't let anything bad happen to her ever again. he's stubborn and determined and pushes the fear down and steps on it and punches it. he will go forward.

the adults in piedmont don't love this codependency. they're concerned for them, maybe rightfully so.

but then again, it doesn't really matter what anyone else thinks anymore, does it?

[onlyinitforthefandoms]

Raimbows are so cool and pretty like. Earth crys and then the light decides to just like... make colors??? Everyone needs a freind like the light.

[bixels]

While I do think anon was rude, I do think it's pretty shitty to set up all this stuff you were going to add the au and then just drop it. It's disappointing. Definitely unfollowing.

Bye.

[unicornpopcorn14]

Was looking through a 'bsd official art' drive folder and found this

I'm sorry,,, no one talks about this official art??? Of Chuuya, Dazai and Rimbaud drinking boba??? At a normal location like a cafe??? And them being all chill???

I mean I have no idea what they're saying but Chuuya's expression can only translate to "I wanna beat this bitch up"

[graye]

DAY 2: Romance

Consistency??? Sorry I've never met her, she sounds nice @owl-bones

[whatudottu]

How could you. HOW COULD YOU! You know EXACTLY how much time he spent Crafting himself to become the person he can at least begin to tolerate, begin to identify as himself, to proudly label as ISABEAU! You broke it, your his face, that stupid face that makes you so so SO CRABBING FURIOUS! SO VIOLENT! SO! UNRELENTINGLY! JEALOUS! And now you've Changed him, with your rage, with your anger; like the Universe Changed you. For the worse. Your bleeding Pincushion. You dig your fist into his nose. Blood on your hands.

*grinding my teeth* God god god I have become obsessed with Quin (to quote it, "I'm a mannequin without the man[ne]") and how on a scale of love to hate in the loopified party, Quin and Isabeau are worse together than Siffrin and Loop :P

Here's a post-quin fight where Isa is guaranteed to lose and guaranteed to get his nose broken, good thing if there's ever any sprite edits I wouldn't have to have two different Act 6 portrait sets :)

[when-you-die-you-will-rot]

new pfp time

[slightly-nerdy-rambles]

Robstar Week Day 3: Tandem (Prompt: Training)

Today we're going to see the first of three fics that I made by combining a prompt from this year's round with one from last year. Basically, in 2023 I had ideas for each of the Robstar Week prompts and managed to at least start on all of them, but ended up being too busy/distracted to finish. I still wanted to complete at least some of them, though, so this year I found ways to integrate my favorites into the new prompts. The prompt from last year that originally inspired this story was "Synchronization" from day 6.

There's honestly not too much to say about this one. I knew when I got the original prompt that I needed to do something other than Robin and Starfire being synchronized in battle because I'd done that the year before (the title of the fic was even "Synchrony"), and after running through a few alternate ideas I eventually landed on them working together during a training session. Then the prompt literally called "Training" came out and, hey, serendipity.

Tandem

“Aaand – start!”

Starfire was off like a rocket, buoyed by a joy so honed as to be instinctual. Training drones rose up around her, affixing her with their laser sights. Their shots would sting only for a moment on impact, but she had no intention of letting them get even that far.

One-two-three she flung her arms about. Not a second later, the first three drones fell into smoking husks from the impact of her starbolts.

Some ways away, another group of drones rang with the sound of impact and fell without her interference. Robin had gotten started on another part of the course, and as she rounded a bend she could see him jabbing his staff into the center of his final assailant.

Well, final for this stretch of the course at least.

Robin looked her way then, and his eyes widened just a fraction. “Star, behind you!”

Starfire didn’t waste a moment, dropping several feet in the air just in time for a volley of laser bursts to sail over her head. She wasn’t surprised – she’d thought three training drones had not been very many. With a small frown, she twisted her body so she was facing back-down and took aim at the offending drones.

The first three fell to her starbolts, and one of Robin’s exploding disks took out the last. She flipped back over and shot him a grateful smile for that.

Their paths were converging fast, and just past the joining she spotted a pair of turrets rising out of the ground on either side of the course. These were sturdier but slower than the drones, and Starfire needed no more than a brief shared glance with Robin to confirm he shared her thoughts on their next strategy. She curved around him, flying alongside him as he ran. Together they ducked and wove and deflected, parrying turret shots with starbolts and staff and covering for one another so they needed not to so much as slow down.

Then all at once, Robin let out a startled yell as the floor dropped out beneath him. Starfire dove down after him, grasping his outstretched hand in an instant and then letting them fall a half second longer to escape the turrets’ view while they were vulnerable. Robin grinned fiercely at her as she arced the dive into forward flight. In the split second before she twisted them both around, she grinned back.

Then they were climbing again, moving forward and up yet angled just enough to see the turrets that were now behind and above them. Robin had already grabbed a freezing disk with his free hand, and before the turrets could react he hit the one on the left with quick precision. Starfire used her eye beams to blast the sand and rock just in front of the one on the right, throwing enough debris up to block its computerized view until they got out of range.

Then they were out of the pit and on a straight path to the finish line. Starfire released her partner back into a sprint and resumed flying alongside him, but already she could see their final obstacle. It was the hardest to miss: a massive guillotine door, one that had already begun to drop and threatened to bar their way if it did not pin them painfully beneath its great bulk.

Well. It would pin Robin, perhaps.

With a glint of determination in her eye, Starfire poured on extra speed and pulled ahead. She landed and rolled under the falling door, then rose into a crouch just in time to catch it with her Tamaranean high-strength. This obstacle had been designed to give even Cyborg’s strength a run for its money, but with her partner here to fuel her confidence she hardly felt the strain.

Robin ran up behind her and dove, sliding through the low gap below the door before rolling back to his feet. Once he was clear, she hefted the door off of her shoulders and let it drop behind her. She broke into a run herself as she did — returning to the air would be trivial to her now, but she couldn’t rely on that all the time. And in any case, at the moment she wanted to run with him.

A buzzer sounded as she crossed the finish line, only a half second behind Robin. From his spot up at the obstacle course’s control panel, Cyborg let out a low whistle.

“Forty-one seconds, not bad at all for this course,” he commented, while Beast Boy cheered and Raven gave a short nod of approval. “Keep this up and you two are gonna beat your own record.”

Robin was breathing heavily, hands on his knees after the exertion. Starfire knew the feeling — her flight didn’t leave her quite as winded as running for more than the last stretch would have, but holding up that guillotine door was starting to catch up to her even with her high-strength. After a moment, though, he straightened up and shot her another smile.

“What can I say?” He asked. “We make a good team.”

Starfire returned his smile, and couldn’t hold back a little giggle as she took his proffered hand to join the others and let the next tandem group take their turn. She agreed with that sentiment completely.

[spacebubblehomebase]

Without colors or context, this simple and stupid comic of mine feels so, so tense; It's ominous. The difference from the tone of my last doodle is low-key hilarious though. But please, *insert ace joke here* cause I swear this is nothing serious. I don't even know why I gave in so much effort or show ya'll my progress before finishing, yet here we are. -Bubbly💙

[hammyham-o-o]

MERRY CRIMAS

A digital Laurens doodle for you! :]

[submech]

I'd give this year a 99% Raven out of 10

[nenoname]

i know this part of the opening was basically made up on the fly, but i do love how the pic teasing the audience about bill's existence and stan's secret is in-universe written by ford

ford himself writing "stan is not what he seems"....

(also looking at the "d+m guide book" zodiac page and i know that the "this part looks like stan" arrow means the bit that looks like a fez but the writers must've had fun making it point right at the six fingered hand)

[rallazart]

Ah fine I'll post somethin. Experimenting with designs and shit is all I'm doin. Nothin new.

(Not posting the colored in versions yet. These are only concept sketches. Keep that in mind)...

The digital "version" of ^this^ is just some lazy color blocking I did. (Pay no mind to the weird light effects); But it does add a little clarity to the original sketch that might be helpful. Note: the values will change to some degree later.

Full body type idea ^here^. The tail is fan shaped from proper perspective.

The basic blocks of his design include an array of different animal features i.e. plucked feathers and skin, goat horns and eyes, coyote skull and body, and lizard scales. Idk if anyone was curious though;

if anyone asks for more detail in the design inspirations and lore I might share it. I just don't really feel the need to post every part of my process yk (especially if I'm not 100% happy with it)