#comic book and aren't pretending to do so

[qcomicsy]

Lately I've only been wishing to grab a comic about my favorite character and just have a genuinely good time reading it.

[bruciemilf]

Somebody tell me if this is a bad take, or if my love for Bruce is causing my objective brain to glitch, but-- something about advertising Batman, a hero who's very popular for being good with children, for being NURTURING with children, a bad father kinda defeats the whole purpose of what he's supposed to represent.

Batman is a protector; He protects people the world (and especially law enforcement) does not care about. That's literally the point of him.

Something about marketing " you can be incredibly violent to people you care about! And Its fine, because you care about them even if you abuse them, and that's what matters!" towards people, but especially men and young boys, is REALLY fucked up to me.

[jasperxkuromi]

Play ideas for chronically ill, disabled, or otherwise bed bound/low energy littles

Hi all! I am chronically ill. I am not comfortable sharing my specific diagnosis, but I am more than okay with talking about disability in general. Everything below is based on my own personal experiences and activities I like to do while stuck in bed. Everyone's body and experiences are different. I may list some things that just aren't an option for you, and that's okay. You are more than welcome to add on to this post with activities you do too!

🐛 Open the curtains and cloud watch! I like to look for clouds that remind me of animals or characters and day dream a story about them. If the weather is nice, consider opening your window a little bit and letting some fresh air into your room.

🐦 Bird watch! I have a bird feeder outside my window that I painted myself from a kid's kit. There are also bird feeders that have suction cups that can be stuck right on your window. You can also make your own seed ornaments. You could pick yourself up a kids book or two on learning to identify birds.

🌷 Get a window planter. You may need someone's help to set one up, but once they are in place they are fairly easy to care for. I like pansies and marigolds because they remind me of childhood, and they are low maintenance and do well in containers.

📖 Audiobooks are great for middles who want to read chapter books. If you have a library card you can borrow tons of audiobook, ebooks, and comics through hoopla and Libby for free. There are some audiobooks for younger kiddo books, but honestly I think YouTube is better for that.

🖼️ Scrapbooks and journals! Being penpals with another little is also an option, but I do recommend using basic internet safety and common sense. (I don't think you should do this if you are under 18). You could always scan/take pictures of your letter and send it digitally to your penpal instead.

🛏️ If you spend a lot of time in bed, and have the money to do so, I really recommend getting items to make your time in bed more comfortable. Extra pillows, or even a reading pillow can be helpful. Lap desks or bed tables can give you space to color or set up play scenes with small toys.

🌟 You can also decorate the area around your bed to make it more child like! Fairy lights, glow in the dark stars, bed canopies, posters, and the like.

🪑 I have a floor chair I use for times I am playing outside of my bed. Being close to the floor helps me feel small, but not having back support hurts after a short while. I have an adjustable one that I can lay flat on the floor as a sleeping mat. Very helpful for the times when I need a quick nap after playtime.

🎨 Check the seasonal and kids sections at dollar stores and Five Below. I usually find fun craft kits that can keep me occupied for a bit for really cheap.

🧶 Do your own crafts! I like the knit and crochet. Some people can do them in bed, but I find it difficult to find a comfortable way to do that. However making friendship bracelets in bed works out pretty well. They make great gifts, even for non little friends. Or you could make matching ones for you and your CG or favorite plushie!

🪀 Make your own sensory bin! You can find tons of tutorials and ideas online. Bonus is you can get most of the items you would use at the dollar store. There are tons of other DIY sensory toys you can make as well if you look around. Glitter/shaker bottles are pretty popular too.

🐇 Cuddle with your stuffed animals. Tell them stories. Play pretend. Read to them. They will appreciate all of it.

🎮 If you have an old 3DS stuffed away in a drawer somewhere, pull it back out. 3DS are fairly easy to install homebrew and there are toooons of kiddo friendly games you could get (check 3ds.hacks.guide for this, do not follow tutorials on YouTube or random websites as they very well could be outdated)

💊 Decorate your medicine organizers with stickers. If you use mobility aids you can decorate them as well! Fake flowers are great for decorating mobility aids and there are tons of ideas you can find online.

🍼 I have stomach problems that makes it hard for me to eat enough. I often drink Ensure to make sure I am getting enough calories/nutrients. I get the strawberry flavor and sometimes put it in my sippy cup and pretend it is strawberry milk 😋

😴 If you need rest, rest! You deserve to get as much sleep as your body needs. Babies and toddlers take naps all the time! Trying to just exist with chronic health issues is difficult enough. You don't need to push yourself.

[harmonysanreads]

OMG could you just imagine how smug wanderer will be if he gets to lay on darlings lap? A dream come true for him, as for the other party members.... well-

It's almost comical to compare Wanderer's past deeds to the shenanigans he's pulling at present. Make no mistake, he's completely lucid of his actions and how unbefitting it should be for him to do them. But there's the matter of you, with your annoyingly endearing kindness that attracts all sorts of malicious attention. He can't quite complain about it either because it saved him as well and even though Nahida emphasized how relationships aren't about balancing the books — his mind convinces him that that's why he's doing all of these. But in truth, he leans into that perception only because it suppresses the smidgen of guilt that gnaws at him (ew). Wanderer knows there's a boundary and he treads carefully around it. In any case, as long as he's cautious, he knows you'll always be his shield.

Kaveh is so flabbergasted, astonished and dumbfounded at the uncensored audacity of that brat that he chokes halfway through his sip of the wine — but even if the beverage wasn't in his hand, he's sure he would've choked on his breath anyway. To this day he's still dreaming about holding your hand and here's Wanderer, showing him the thumbs down while soaking in the comfort of your lap! His shock gradually fades as he wonders if he needs to pretend to be sick or something to get that treatment. But, knowing his luck he's sure it'd backfire as well. So he just seethes in his seat, for now.

Alhaitham doesn't even give the impression that he's looking at the fiasco — except he is by the rim of his book, more keenly than the rest present at that. To be even more honest, his eyes have never left you since the moment he entered the tavern so, he's acutely aware of every moment that lead to this... display. While the rest watch in disbelief, he's taking mental notes and running various simulations in his mind to picture the perfect scenario where he will instead be in the position of Wanderer. Or at least, doing so distracts him from succumbing to the less than pleasant feelings that arise at the sight.

Tighnari is exasperated. Yes, no dramatic response, just exasperation at its purest form. He's a busy person and it's only because of you that he's made his visits to Sumeru city regular. He does not have the time or energy to tolerate such incidents every single time. He's tried to convince you that the harmlessness of Wanderer is faux and just an act, but for whatever reason, your trust in the boy seems to be resolute. So he can do nothing but bear witness to these stunts with increasing audacity and that makes him want to tear his hair out at this point. Just you wait, he will find a way to expose the brat one day.

Of everything Cyno was expecting to see this evening, this was not at all in that list. He's not unaware of how touchy Wanderer tries to get each time he and the others are in the vicinity. A seasoned Matra's senses are far sharper than ordinary folk and Cyno is the only one that gets the message of this gesture immediately. He knows it's a warning and a claim. He can tell that there's something off about Wanderer and no, it isn't his act of being a goody-two-shoes. This stunt further justifies his suspicions and paired with the strength he displayed at the last round of the InterDarshan Championship — Cyno has made up his mind. He will challenge Wanderer to a duel right then and there, have fun settling this dispute.

[shemybitchhh]

𝕀 𝔾𝕠𝕥 𝕐𝕠𝕦☆

HEADCANONS of you taking care of injured Ellie.

<<Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader>>

☆Ellie, who the first time you two would talk, she would have a rather serious wound on her side. You, being the daughter of one of Jackson's doctors, were always interested in medicine and learned quickly from your father. "What happened?" You asked her, worried as you saw her clutching the side of her muscle shirt that had a huge red stain on it. "Nothing, mind your business." She told you coldly but you stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. "Aren't you going to go to the infirmary?" You asked and Ellie turned her head to look at you angrily. "You don't care what I do." You bit your lip, still worried. "If you don't let some nurse take care of you, at least let me do it."

☆Ellie, who from that day on would notice your presence in every place she went, and when she didn't see you she would look for you until she found you, without knowing why she needed to keep you in her sights.

☆Ellie, who would find you one day treating the wound of a little boy who was crying because of a scrape on his knee. "Shhh, easy little one. Everything's okay." You assured him as you gently disinfected the wound with a cotton ball. "That's it. You're very brave." You told him, making the boy smile a little. Ellie felt her heart warm when she saw that scene.

☆Ellie, who wouldn't know how to start a conversation with you so she would pretend to get hurt just to have an excuse.

☆Ellie, who would start asking you anything no matter how stupid it was just to hear your voice. "So, do you swab the wound with alcohol before bandaging it?" "What's worse, a knife or gun wound?" "Can I drink booze after antibiotics?"

☆Ellie, who would look for supplies during her patrols to surprise you. "Where did you get these?" You asked, looking in surprise at the empty blood bags and clean gauze she had gotten. "They were inside an ambulance a short distance from our checkpoint. Nothing out of the ordinary." She said downplaying it, when in reality she had entered an abandoned hospital full of clickers and runners completly alone, just to get them for you.

☆Ellie, who would invite you over to her room for the first time and you would end up reading her comics together.

☆Ellie, who would ask you what your favorite band is and a few days later a CD of it would appear on your doorstep. She would never take credit for it, although it wouldn't be too difficult to guess.

☆Ellie, who would invite you to have lunch with her in the dining room, after seeing that you were too shy to sit next to anyone besides your dad.

☆Ellie, who would stare into your eyes while you told her the plot of your favorite book. She wasn't listening to a single word that came out of your mouth. Her mind was lost in the vibrant and full of life color of your gems.

☆Ellie, who would tell you her stupid jokes just to hear your laugh.

☆Ellie, who would ask you to teach her first aid so she could take care of herself. Although she would never apply the theory since she preferred to go with you and have you take care of her.

☆Ellie, who would arrive from a patrol almost fainting from the number of infected she had to kill, and you would run up to her so that she could lean against you. "Shhh, easy, I got you." You whispered to her before she passed out.

☆Ellie, who would wake up exalted on the stretcher in the infirmary and the first person she would look for would be you. She would see that it was your father standing next to her, taking her pulse, and she would instantly be embarrassed. "I'll tell her you're awake and to come see you." Your father said with a kind smile, without Ellie having to say anything.

☆Ellie, who would accept your hug without second's hesitation after you ran in to check on her.

☆Ellie, who would start spending some nights at your house, listening to music, talking about irrelevant topics to pass the time, and sometimes even cooking with you.

☆Ellie, who would stare at your lips while you chewed the chocolate she had brought you as a gift. "Want some?" You asked, extending your hand with a generous piece.

☆Ellie, who would act without thinking and would pull you towards her by your outstretched wrist and kiss you, tasting your chocolate-flavored lips.

☆Ellie, who couldn't stop telling you how beautiful you are, loving how you looked away with an involuntary blush.

☆Ellie, who would promise to take care of you from everything, just like you took care of her when she got hurt on her patrols.

☆Ellie, who would hug you from behind with her folded hands after you disinfected her knuckles for the thousandth time, and would fall asleep smelling your scent and pressing you against her.

☆Ellie, who would let you know how important you are to her. "I got you, love."

[spidernuggets]

i’ve had this idea for so long and i really feel like you can do it justice because i LOVE your writing style so…

reader that knows jason’s identity but he doesn’t know that they know, so reader keeps teasing him. i think it’d be ESPECIALLY good if reader goes out of their way to buy nightwing merch or talk about how red robin is their favorite

that’s just the main idea you have full creative license over it 🫶🫶

Jason Todd x Reader

def not doing this to avoid studying chem...

"Hey, Jay, lookie!" You called him over as you entered the door of your apartment.

Jason had his nose stuck in a book as you walked in. He turned his head over to see you with a cheerful smile and a little paper bag in your hand.

"What is it?" He asked, bookmarking his novel, carefully setting it down on the coffee table.

I quietly snorted to yourself, eager to see his reaction as you pulled out a little Nightwing plush.

"Isn't it so cute!" You cheered, practically shoving the blue and black toy to his face.

Jason mentally grumbled at the sight of the plush. "Is that supposed to be Nightwing? You chose the lamest vigilante, babe," he says as his eye twitches.

You shrugged. "He's not lame! If you think about it, his ass does look good in that suit," you smirked to yourself, knowing it would get a rise out of Jason. "And besides. I mostly only got him because the stores aren't releasing a Red Robin version for another month. So I'm gonna save up some money before them," you tell him, hugging the plushie.

It seemed as if Jason's face went comically red, as you mentioned his own brother's butt. He wanted nothing more than to throw the plushie out the window, rip it apart, set it on fire. Anything to get your hands off that damn doll.

"They sell Red Hood plushies!" He tried not to complain. "Why not buy them? It's better use of your money," he grumbled, folding his arms together.

"I don't really like Red Hood," you carefully said, watching every twitch of his reaction while petting over the Nighting plush.

Jason felt like a bullet went through his heart, and he felt like hunching over to clutch his chest in agony.

"Why not! He's the best one!" He said in disbelief as you tried not to laugh over his reaction.

You shrugged a shoulder. "I dunno. He's just not a favourite of mine. Althought the thigh holsters looks great on him, woo!" You cheekily smiled, fanning yourself with your hand and biting your bottom lip as you put the plush away.

Jason felt heat rise up in his neck at the comment, ready to just blurt out that he was, in fact, the Red Hood.

"Maybe it's the giant red helmet that throws me off," you tap your chin, pretending to think as Jason made a mental note to have his helmet potentially be redesigned.

"His big red helmet is the best part.." Jason muttered to himself as he slumped on the couch. And you could've sworn you saw a pout form on his lips.

"Anyways, this toy is gonna be a great part of my collection!" You cheered as Jason perked up.

"Collection? You have more?!" He asked, disgust written all over his face as you tilted your head to the side.

"Well.. no, but I wanna start one! Oh! And I want to start a collection for Red Robin, too! I saw somewhere that they're selling a similar costume online!" You say excitingly. "I might be his biggest fan," you say while suppressing a laugh.

Jason was now on his feet, standing right in front of you. "Why not be Red Hood's biggest fan?" His pout was way more obvious now. You were surprised that he wasn't more discreet about it.

"Why are you so caught up with Red Hood?" You asked innocently.

"Uh, let's see. He's skilled, he's smart, he's strong, he's muscular and he's gorgeous!" He practically yelled as he towers over you.

You rested a hand on your hip as you leaned on one leg. "How the hell would you know he's gorgeous? He never takes his helmet off," you asked, rasing an eyebrow.

"Well- I- You know, he-" you giggled as he stammered and tripped over his words.

You decided to finally put him out of his misery, standing on your tio toes as you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Calm down, lovely, I know you're Red Hood," you muttered against his skin.

Jason's brows scrunched together, pushing you back. "Wait, wait, wait- you knew?! And you didn't tell me?" He said in absolute shock.

"I wanted you to tell me at your own time.. but at the same time, I wanted you to tell me sooner since someone keeps showing up late to our dates for some unknown reason," You raised an eyebrow at him, not pleased with the fact that he was recently showing up pretty late to some of your dates because of his patrols.

Jason awkwardly chuckled while scratching the back of his neck. "Uh huh.. yeah- I'm.. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to be late, baby," he muttered. But you quickly placed a soft peck to his lips.

"It's okay. You can make it up to me," you smiled in reassurance.

"But - but how did you even find out? How long have you known?"

"Uhh.." You looked up, trying to remember. "Around two months ago? And you left your holsters here. You know. The one that looks real good on your thighs," you smirked, leaning up to him as you teased him.

The heat returned back to Jason's neck, now reaching up to his ears. "Fuck.. I left them here? There weren't any guns in them, were there?" He asked with concern.

Your hand caressed his cheek. "No, don't worry. I kept the holsters in your closet."

Jason kissed your forhead as a soft thank you.

"So.. are you actually gonna keep that plushie?" He asked, referring to the Nightwing plushie you bought, a rumbling of jealousy rising in him.

You snorted as you shook your head. "No, I kept the receipt. Besides. It doesn't go with my collection."

His brows furrowed. "Collection?.."

You smiled, taking his hand and bringing him into your bedroom. You opened the closet and reached to the back, pulling out a big, brown box.

Upon opening it, the lid flew open, hardly abke to keep in the many plushies, figures, and clothing items, all based on Red Hood.

Jason's jaw dropped as he looked at all the Red Hood merchandise that you kept.

You pulled out a brown leather jacket that had the red bat symbol at the back of it.

"I've waited forever to finally wear this around the house." You say, putting on the jacket, giving Jason a twirl as yoh showed it off.

Jason breathed out a chuckle, placing his hands on your hips, pulling you close. "You look good, babe," he mumbles, his nose tickling yours. "Should wear it more often," his voice dropped, a suggestive tone laced within it.

You smirked back. "Yeah, that was the plan."

MAN HAVE I MISSED WRITING

okay, back to studying because i can practically hear Missy telling me to go study

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Im owning up to this one lol

I don't get Cattail hate. Like why she should care about Clay, Mudwings allow there dragonets to raise themselves and the parents don't take a big role in there upbringing . It's just how her culture works. She is not a bad person for not acting like the average mother meeting her long lost son. And sure maybe selling him off wasn't the nicest thing to do knowing he would grow up away from his tribe and sibs but I'm sure the Talons would have stolen him anyway and she assumed Asha would be watching over him.

And I know when you read it from Clays perspective she is single handedly crushing all of his dreams about his parents and family and not the kind of mother he expected or wanted. She is not likeable to him because therefore she is not presented as likeable to us because the book is written in his perspective. But she is not a bad mother for Mudwing standards.

She is not mean or rude to him in any way she tells him the truth about what happened to his egg and how Mudwing culture works. She is kinda cold but its what Clay needs to hear. She's not going to pretend like she missed him or that Mudwings are loving parents to spare his feelings. She never uses her son's fame for her own gain or tries to take advantage of his attachment Not a big fan of her design in the comics tho.

I have also heard the take that Glory should have made the Rainwing keep and raise their own eggs After she became queen. I believe that there is nothing wrong with the way Rainwing raise their dragonets. None of the dragons in the rainforest seem neglected, unhappy or even care about their bioparents. (Except Glory but she got over it)It's much better then Sandwings that have starving orphans running around the Scorpions Den.

I would go on but this is getting long so I'll just say that Rainwings and Mudwings aren't bad parents.

.

[patricia-taxxon]

im sick of the made up "art snob" character that doesn't understand simple emotions like love and joy. whether its imagined snooty film critics who can't loosen up and have FUN, or imagined suspender-wearing hipsters telling you about bands you've never heard of, it's all fake. these aren't real people. they're as real as the kids in those boomer comics that are so phone-obsessed that they don't know how books work. it's a fantasy dreamt up by the masses who are so insecure about their lack of knowledge that they'd rather pretend that they have something the knowledgeable do not.

you need to have an eclectic media diet in order to be my friend, but to say that I and my friends are incapable of experiencing simple joys in *everything* we engage with is just insulting. There are simple joys to discover, there are also simple sadnesses and simple discomforts or even simple revulsions. It's all feelings. it never stops being about feelings no matter where you go.

Honestly, the pattern that I've noticed is that people with eclectic media diets are *more* receptive to unadulterated trash, we're the ones going up to bat for Aquaman, we're the ones who think the chainsmokers weren't all that bad, we have awfuller trashier opinions than any of you lot. You don't possess anything that the ~snobs~ are incapable of accessing, it's over.

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:�� religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  4 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: guilt is heavy on your mind, but when given the opportunity to confess, things escalate to an admission you weren't expecting. it would seem you aren't the only one who deals with temptation.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

You were pretty used to people wanting to have sex with you - boys at the club that danced too close. Or the library in college, checking you out from behind when you returned books. You’d learned to ignore the stares, the not-so-subtle advances, the occasional grope on a crowded dance floor. It was just part of being a woman, you had told yourself. And truthfully, being desired felt good, even if it sometimes manifested in inappropriate ways. 

It had a specific power, especially when you often looked at your hips in the mirror. Even when you felt bloated or your skin was breaking out, catching an appreciative glance from a cute guy perked up your mood. It was a reminder that despite your insecurities, your body was beautiful and alluring to others. There was something deeply validating about that.

You had seen the restraint in Zayne’s eyes, the way he had held himself back the moment he met you. It was different from the hungry leers of other men. There was a respect there, a reverence almost as if he never quite believed that you were real. 

But you felt the sweat-slick desire coursing through his veins whenever he fucked you. Fucked you against the wall, the desk bent over. You had smelled the lust on his skin - his need to claim. This led you to believe there wasn’t much in his own life he had much control over - though you never asked. 

Most times you were with him, you didn’t try to distract him. You pretended not to care when he slipped the wedding band off his finger and tossed it somewhere out of his line of sight. Being wanted, needed, and craved so intensely always took priority in your mind of what was right or proper. The way he touched you, kissed you, and drove into you with such fervor. 

You didn’t let the ring distract you, considering it was just an object. 

Until one morning, it caught your eye. The simple gold band rested on the nightstand as you sat against the headboard. You blinked and glanced over at Zayne sleeping next to you - his defined shoulder blades and strong muscles, the smooth curve of his body leading to narrow hips. 

At that moment, you wished you could start over and stay in this life forever. Maybe he would have come with you if you ran away. Maybe you could have convinced him to protect you, or you could have made up an excuse for why he needed to stay by your side. Deep down, you knew those thoughts were selfish and even comical. You had been desperate and needy yet appreciative of how he had made everything else disappear. 

Maybe you were his way of breaking free of the monotony of his own life. Like a character in a novel or a television show - just another man’s object of lust and curiosity. But this man was kind, intelligent, decent, and honest from the start. 

And yet, in those cramped quarters of that hotel room, staring at the wood grain of the nightstand, you couldn’t imagine a single scenario where things ended anything other than badly. 

It had all been so simple, falling into bed with the good doctor who worked nights - whose marriage didn’t matter or had seemed not to. Maybe, in another life, he would have swept you off your feet and carried you far away to far-off places, like Scotland, where you always wanted to visit. With all his money and experience, surely he could’ve whisked you away to somewhere beyond…

Letting your fantasies consume you as you looked at him again, dark hair against the pillow, lips parted slightly in slumber, he looked more vulnerable while asleep. The hard lines on his face softened, and the ever-present intensity drained away. It would have been so easy to wake him and lose yourself in the fire again. 

But something held you back, causing your gaze to land back on the ring. You envisioned a woman with vibrant red hair who was solid and straightforward. She could be a doctor too, or maybe a real estate agent who worked 60 hours a week. 

You looked toward the nightstand drawer and knew what book would be inside—one that every hotel room seemed to have. Reaching out, you opened the drawer, examining the well-worn blue cover. Quietly, you took the Bible out and flipped through its thin pages in your lap, illuminated by the soft morning light through the crack in the curtains. Without even looking, you found the page you were searching for, mouthing the passage you had read countless times before. 

‘Though the Lord is great, He cares for the humble, but keeps His distance from the proud.’

A strange, eerie feeling washed over you as you thought about your own humanity, that ring on the nightstand. In that moment, a wave of self-pity but you as you realized how simple and insignificant humans really were. But you kept flipping through the pages anyway.

‘Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.’

“D-does that include me?” You whispered to yourself, breaking the silence of the room. Of your thoughts. “I'm carrying a lot of garbage with me.” You snorted, bringing a thumb up to swipe at a tear that gathered in your eye. You smeared your face across your arm, sniffling, trying to suppress a tight sob. 

Whatever this was, whatever you had gotten involved in, there were no solutions or promises. Talking to God seemed as futile as ever. 

“I think it's best if I go home for a little while,” you said, loud enough to startle Zayne out of sleep. You closed your eyes and shut the Bible, wishing for some kind of miracle to wash away the guilt and confusion - the sin that had entangled itself around you. “I need to visit my dad,” you added, trying to steady your voice. “Get my head straight.”

Fully awake now, Zayne sat up, turning to face you. “Alone?”

His features were pinched, concerned. There was a flash of regret in your stomach, and you laughed. 

“No.” You answered. Then you shook your head. Your eyes were stinging again, but you clutched the edges of the Bible and breathed deeply. “Yes, of course, alone. God, I can't believe you just fucking asked me that.” 

The words were spoken harshly, but they were truthful and full of shame.

Zayne held his head high, revealing the internal conflict he may have been struggling with. He leaned back against the headboard, and you could see him trying to figure out what to say next as he gazed into the distance. Then his eyes closed, and when they opened and locked with you again, the hazel color seemed to dance in the dimly lit room. He swallowed hard before saying, “Maybe you shouldn't sleep around if it's going to upset you.”

“I'm upset with you, ” you stated firmly. Your thumb began tapping the side of the Bible. “I'm upset with myself.” 

Zayne shook his head in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. The look on his face made you want to reach out and comfort him. But you knew you shouldn't. That feeling of despair washed over you again, but you welcomed it this time. It was a harsh reality and a reminder of the situation. The bitter taste of logic told you that you'd been used and that despite any genuine feelings from either of you - the actions had still been wrong. 

It was a sobering realization that you loved this man, the same one you'd been sneaking around with behind his wife's back. Over and over again. Your sense of morality has failed you in the end, and you couldn't help but feel dirty, tainted, maybe even a bit worthless. You couldn't justify your actions or rationalize them anymore. 

The affections of one man had caused a tectonic shift in your being, a deep rumbling that shook you to your very foundation. Your faith in God, the same one who had taken your mother from you, was wavering even more. 

In a fit of emotion, you had quit your job that afternoon and impulsively bought a plane ticket. It was a familiar pattern - escape was the default when faced with overwhelming loss. And as you sat in the exit row, surrounded by strangers, you couldn't decide which scenario had felt more devastating - losing your mother or potentially losing yourself. 

“Remember, honey,” Your mother's words echoed in your mind as the plane took off. “A man can make you feel like the most special woman in the world. But only God can fill that hole in your heart. Don't look for love in the wrong places, alright?” 

You had pressed into the seat, tears prickling in your eyes that you blinked away. You had refused to break down here, 30,000 feet in the air, with nowhere to hide. 

Walking was always your go-to activity to clear your head. Whether it was with a destination in mind or not. Your dad had offered you use of his car plenty of times since you got home, but you declined - appreciating the privacy of walking. He hadn’t caught on how much you wanted your privacy yet but hadn’t bothered asking. Or ask why you hadn’t gone to church with him since before the festival. 

Since your conversation with Zayne, a heavy sense of something that felt like a weight clung to you like a dense fog; each step feels like a struggle, as if trudging through mud. But really, what had you expected? Your mind was clouded by the usual clarity that came with walking. But you knew you couldn’t stay in your room forever; eventually, your dad would catch on. Maybe he had learned from the experience with your mother how to catch onto sadness, and you couldn’t have that happen.  

So you did what she used to - you drank half a bottle of wine and left the rest in the fridge before heading out into the night. You had no particular destination. While drinking, you did your best not to think about your mother or whatever else was troubling you. But that’s not what makes you feel guilty. It’s a mix of everything: your secret, Zayne, and the fact you thought alcohol could numb it all away. 

As you continued to walk, the rec center by the church gradually came into view. The sign proclaiming a Bible study catches your attention and a stream of teenagers exiting the building.  They had an unmistakable energy about them, with their trendy and vibrant clothing. It was intriguing, something worth pausing to observe. Life carried on, even after you stumbled down a path and nearly fell off track. It was absurd to think about how one man’s deception could cause so much…UGH! 

You heard a familiar voice call your name from the building's steps, and you turned to see Xavier. He adjusted his jacket as he descended the concrete stairs, passing by a group of teenagers who chatted on the sidewalk. 

“Hey,” you forced a polite grin, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “Aren’t you a bit too old for youth group?”

He rolled his eyes. “I help out the Father from time to time,” he explained. “But when it’s these guys…yeah, kinda does feel like middle school over again.” He gave a small laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m so busy, I barely make it to church or anything. This was just convenient.”

“Teaching kids about the Bible, huh?” you offered, trying to keep the conversation light. The last thing you wanted Xavier to do was pick up on your melancholy mood. 

Xavier nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s nice to give back, you know?” 

“Well, aren’t you lucky?” You said, admiring Xaviers' easy smile. He had always been reliable, especially when it came to helping his parents and now working for your dad. He certainly seemed to have matured more than you and understood the importance of responsibility. 

Perhaps he could sense something was amiss, and hopefully, he couldn’t smell the wine on your breath at all. Regardless, he took the opportunity to shoo away some of the kids still lingering around before it got too dark for them to walk home safely. Once they were out of sight, he turned back to you. 

“So, how have you been? You look a little…off.” 

“Long day.” You admitted, not wanting to burden him of all people, but in some way desperately craving a scrap of real attention. “Talking about it would be too much of a hassle. I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Xaviers' brow furrowed with what appeared to be concern. “You know, sometimes talking about it can help. Even if it’s just a little bit.” He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. “I’m here to listen if you want…” 

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to open up. Something about Xavier's presence, the sincerity in his voice, made you feel…safe. Maybe it was the fact that you’d known him for so long, or maybe it was how he always genuinely cared about others. He was so sincere and sweet, and your shoulders slumped because you couldn’t even fathom where to begin - not wanting to. 

“I’m good, promise.” You forced another smile, and that seemed to do the trick because Xavier nodded slowly, though his eyes still flickered with concern. 

“Alright. If you say so.” 

An awkward silence hung between you both for a moment as you stood on the sidewalk, the last rays of the sun casting long shadows on the pavement. Xavier shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly wanting to say something but unsure how to proceed. 

He cleared his throat nervously and rubbed the back of his neck again. “So, I was thinking…Maybe we could grab dinner sometime while you’re here? Catch up properly?” He chuckled, an apparent attempt at hiding his nerves. 

You felt your face grow warm as you bit the inside of your cheek, attempting to contain the smile that threatened to break out. Of all the times he could have asked you out in school…

“Sure,” You stammered. “It’s been a while since we’ve just talked.”

“No, I mean, sorry -” Xaviers' eyebrows furrowed. “You know, like…a date?” 

“A date?” you repeated in surprise. 

Your laughter bubbled out of you as you looked away. After worrying for so long about being alone forever, it was strange to hear someone offer themselves to you in a way that wasn’t hinting at anything sexual—especially someone who you used to have feelings for in your youth. A tiny thrill of hope-filled your stomach. But then the guilt was quick to rush in, along with shame. It weighs on your spine and makes you force in a breath. 

You met his gaze earnestly. “Are you sure?”

“Uh, well, why wouldn’t I be? You don’t think it would be awkward, would it?” 

You shook your head, trying to push away any doubt or insecurities that threatened to overwhelm you. “No, no, it’s not that. I just…” You trailed off. 

Xavier's expression softened, and he gently touched your arm. “Y/N, it’s fine. We don’t have to. I just thought it might be nice to spend some time together, you know? No pressure.” 

You nodded, grateful for his understanding and that he was still as sweet as the day you graduated. You also didn’t want to ignore the part of you that still felt like a teenager, the small voice that begged you to say yes. 

“I’d love to go out with you, sure.” You gave in and reached into your pocket, retrieving your phone and holding it out. “Can you send a text to yourself?” 

He accepted it and began typing with his thumbs, the bright screen casting a glow on his nose. Once he was finished, he handed it back to you. 

You tucked your phone back into your pocket, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. Despite the heaviness in your heart, the prospect of a ‘date’ seemed to lift your spirits, if only a little bit. 

“I should probably get going,” Xavier said, glancing up toward the sky. “Early start at the shop tomorrow.” He looked as if he was about to say more but then seemed to think better of it. “I’ll text you soon about dinner, okay?” 

You nodded. “Sure. See you later.” 

Xavier gave a small wave and stepped off the curb to cross the street. When he was around the corner and out of sight, you felt the embrace of the fall evening again, and everything around you went silent.

Until you heard the gentle sound of a piano resounding from inside the rec center, the front door was still partially open, and the chords flowed from somewhere within; the melody was haunting and gentle. Sticking your hands in your pockets, you headed up the cement steps into the building, pushing the squeaky door open a bit more as you were greeted by the soft, dimly lit lobby. You followed the sound to one of the rooms in the back. 

Father Sylus was too focused, slender fingers moving across the keys and producing that haunting melody that you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. Yet, you found it strangely comforting. Your feet remembered how to move, stepping forward and muffled by the thick carpet and the perfect rhythm. 

You finally recognized the tune, and a slight snort escaped your nostrils. You had been trying to find where you had heard the hymn before, but it wasn’t a hymn; it was Music of the Night from Phantom of the Opera. 

He caught your eye and abruptly stopped playing, and even though you tried to suppress your amusement, he must have noticed because a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth - one that made it hard for you not to smile back. 

“I didn’t realize anyone was there.” He stated, posture stiff as he sat up straighter, making you wonder if you had interrupted him. What you really should have done was not be nosy and go home. But no, now you were forced to speak to him. 

“You, uh, a fan of musicals?” You chuckled a bit, taking in his expression - one of a man caught doing something they would have preferred someone not seeing. But there was something deeper to it as his expression darted to another part of the room and left yours as if looking for an excuse for something completely different. 

Father Sylus cleared his throat, running a hand back through his hair. “I’ve…seen some here and there.” He moved down on the piano bench, patting the spot next to him. “Sit if you’d like.” 

Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it. 

But you went over, settling onto the cool leather of the bench, arms folded. The sheet music for Amazing Grace that had been taped in place for years was slightly curled up in the corners and soft with age. It was a relic that someone had likely tried to care for, but there were pencil smudges. You reached out and tapped a key absentmindedly, just as a distraction from how close in proximity you now were to Father Sylus. 

“That was, uh, really good.” You spoke, crossing your legs at your ankles and tucking them under the bench. “I never really caught on to the music stuff.” 

“I can’t take all the credit.” He gave a small chuckle, watching your movements, hands now folded perfectly in his lap, and his eyes settled back on the keys and the markings someone had left on the notes. “I did take piano lessons up until college.” 

“What did you study?” You felt compelled to ask this question. Mainly because all your prior talks have been surface-level, skimming the waters of who you both were. But sitting here next to him, you caught on to his confidence, an educated air. 

“Music theory,” he replied, the words soft and straightforward. You watched his body language. While his posture remained still, he moved a hand around in front of him in a ‘roll over’ motion. “Then eventually theology, religion, philosophy. Mostly, I wasn’t sure what I would do in the future.” 

“So one day you woke up and said, ‘I’m gonna be a priest?’” You joked, not waiting for a response before formulating your next question. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you? You don’t seem that old.” 

“Twenty-eight.” He told you, turning his head to look toward the stacked chairs against the walls. “I didn’t expect to end up where I am. I think that’s what often happens in life, though. You don’t have a plan ahead of time, or perhaps, have the expectations of something that doesn’t always end up as a concrete idea." He chuckled, "Like studying music theory.” 

“And your family was on board with it?” You asked. 

“More or less. Sometimes, I still wonder, if I had to do it again, would I?” 

Your brow arched curiously at his questions of himself, the wonderingness of his tone. 

“That’s a little deep for a regular Tuesday evening.” You managed a half-smirk, trying not to invade his space with the turn your conversation had taken. 

“Is there a set day for discussions such as these?” He countered, turning to look at you, red eyes almost glinting in challenge. His tone was almost teasing, and nerves sparked in your belly. 

“I think late Saturday evenings work,” you decided with a short hum, “Though I hear Sunday mornings are very convenient.” 

“That’s fair.” He mused with a short laugh. 

Taking a risk, you let the urge grip you and reached out, laying a hand on his arm. For a moment, the touch felt wrong, the thoughts swirling. But it was almost too perfect, the way he was just sitting there. Then it hit you what you were doing, and you pulled your hand away. 

“Sorry,” you sputtered. “I’m sorry, that was so inappropriate.” 

“No, it wasn’t,” he insisted, still looking at you. You looked away, unable to keep eye contact and rubbing your arm nervously. 

“No, it was,” you murmured. You felt ridiculous, getting way too close to the goddamn priest. You wanted to smack yourself with the disappointment that you’d just tried to flirt without realizing it. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me lately.” 

“You’re human,” he stated, and his expression was sincere as you looked back at him. “There’s something about you,” he tried to smile, but it fell flat. Instead, a slight frown formed, an almost curious look coming into his features. “Nothing’s wrong with you, truly.” His voice faltered, nearly a whisper at the end, and he laughed gently. “You’re just flawed; everyone is.” His eyes went back to the piano keys. “Even God himself isn’t perfect.” 

“I…guess that’s true.” 

Your eyes prickled. There was nothing truly remarkable about what he had said, but you dug your nails into the fabric of your jeans as you remembered your mother. You took a slow, steadying breath to try and stop the tears from coming, from recalling all those unanswered questions. 

Because, like everything else that had happened in your life recently, it was vague - only a tingle of existence in a reality that didn’t feel entirely real. One that couldn’t have been planned out by a force you couldn’t see but were supposed to feel yet hadn’t in a very long time. 

A hot tear escaped as you focused on the wall behind the piano, your voice cracked as you sought to get out an explanation for your sudden emotion. “I can’t - I did something and can’t tell you.” You sucked a shaky breath as you shuffled on the bench with the intent to stand. “Something really messed up, and I -” 

You were stopped by Father Sylus reaching a hand out, catching your own in a grasp that felt like a flame. A grasp that broke your words as you looked at his hand around your own. When you were finally able to meet his gaze, his features were relaxed and patient, willing you to speak. 

“I can’t tell you,” you repeated. “If I tell you, it means that it’s real and he exists and I - I potentially ruined everything and that I’m just a slut and a homewrecker and a sinner and I’ll go to Hell and -” 

“Stop.” 

It was a single word. Uttered with such confidence, it made you go still, frozen, and quiet, save for the deep breath you now forced yourself to take that didn’t entirely fill your lungs. You worried briefly that you’d scared the man away with your panicky ramblings. But he simply held your now trembling hand in his. Constant. Grounding. It was enough to make you realize the depth of emotion he spoke with. 

“I’m sorry.” You forced out the words, glancing down at the floor and how his feet were directly towards the piano, his attention again on the instrument. Your next question found its way past the tightness in your chest, a sudden flare of hot guilt welling. You knew the answer; it was all fire and brimstone either way and perhaps you were looking for sympathy with how he could answer in his calm and smooth voice. “What does the Bible say about adultery?” You asked.

Father Sylus may have been of the same religion. Responsible for leading the good people of this town from whatever chaos they experienced in their personal lives, or at least not eating meat on Ash Wednesday. Still, he sat silent for a while before finally turning to you. 

“I’m afraid if you’ve come to me for forgiveness, you’ll receive none from me.” 

“And what the fuck is your problem?” You stood, anger and resentment rising quickly. You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced at the ceiling. “Your whole job is to - guide people!  Something, instead -” 

“I can’t.” He stated firmly, standing and taking a step back from you. “Because I’m guilty, too.” 

“I beg your fucking pardon?” Your body tensed as you watched him suck in a sharp breath and grip at his hair, tangling his fingers through the silky strands. 

“I’m sorry,” he spoke softer now, another exhale and another step back. “I am, Y/N.” The way he spoke now was measured, perhaps even a bit apprehensive. “We all make mistakes. We all sin. Especially me.”

He looked at you, his crimson eyes burning into yours. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you, Y/N. I haven’t been able to stop.” 

His whole body tensed at his confession. The silence hung between you, heavy, and you realized he was waiting for your response... Not just waiting, but needing your response.  

“Why?” You breathed out, heart thudding loud enough in your chest for you to feel it. “If you felt that way, why -” You paused, deciding to let yourself admit the truth. “ I - I’ve been thinking about you, too.” 

The truth made your face feel hot and filled you with the most dreadful sense of shame and need - something inside you longing. You couldn’t fight the urge to keep talking, unable to hold back. “Maybe I’m just too messed up in the head. I need some fucking validation that every relationship isn’t destined to end up in disappointment that I create. Convince myself I’m more than a sex-crazed person or something.” 

You wanted to say more. You tried to open up and let it all out, but you were caught as you looked into his eyes. Ones that, for a fraction of a second, not easily caught, seemed to mirror yours as he allowed himself to come closer. 

It was impossible to stop yourself from stepping closer. The warm hand that reached out and cupped your cheek made any rational thought simply vanish from your mind. But you did manage to ask your question, albeit a little breathlessly: “What am I supposed to do?” 

“You’re asking the wrong person.” Father Sylus released a quivering breath, hand moving down your cheek to cup your jaw, but the grip wasn’t firm or demanding but - careful. Almost hesitant. 

Tilting your head slightly, the kiss was light – just the sweetest brush of heat. It sent a jolt along your skin, making it almost impossible for you not to melt into the action. 

“Please,” you heard him beg, whimpering against your mouth as he pulled back just a fraction, “please tell me that I’m not a monster for this.” His voice was husky and tinged with desperation. It sends a surge of heat straight to your core.

“No.” You found the word as you pulled back, locking your gaze. “You’re not.” 

The vulnerability he exudes is incredible, the words he speaks settling like a stone in your stomach as you process them. You found yourself torn between desire and shame. It was a feeling not unlike what you felt when you had first started seeing - 

You stepped back, releasing the hold as breath reached your lungs in a much shorter supply. How was this any different? This was far worse, if anything. 

“I - I can’t do this again.” You admitted, and in a way, your own words were painful. 

The priest didn’t move from his spot, brow furrowing in confusion. “I’m sorry, did I -” He raised a hand, not touching but hovering over your arm like he meant to. His expression was ridden with anxiety now, perhaps worry. 

His uncertainty made it all the more confusing. 

“I thought…” You stammered, unable to collect the fragments of your thoughts. “I thought that…I don’t know what’s going on.” You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.  

You took another step back, fighting the fear that encased your ribs, the twist in your gut. It was not because of his presence but what was coming to the surface now, whatever feeling was developing. “I have to go,” you breathed. 

“Wait, Y/N.” Father Sylus lifted his hands helplessly, his voice turning back to the one that offered guidance, eyes scanning the floor momentarily before looking back up. “You’re not the only one that feels or gives into things they’re not supposed to.” His brow creased while his eyes glinted with a sudden passion. He shifted his weight and stuffed a hand into his pocket, the other swooping the air lightly as he continued as if he needed to move his hand to formulate his words. “It..It doesn’t make you a monster.” This last statement was said with a sudden firmness. 

“Maybe not.” You replied, the head of tears forming a blurry haze at the edges of your vision. “But, no matter what we want - there will always be constraints.” The nightmarish cloud that had begun to permeate your mind ceased. “How do I keep ending up in these situations?” You forced out a laugh. “Is this what God wants for me?” 

“I don’t know.” His face took on a solemn expression as he swallowed harshly and cleared his throat. “The only thing I know is that…Whatever happened before, whatever you did,” he sucked in a sharp, sudden breath—no more nervous shifting. “Regardless of the sin you confessed, I don’t believe you to be a monster. Do you hear me? I’m telling you you’re not.” 

You looked at the deep set of his expression, the tender way he reached his hand up and tapped it against his chest right over his heart. The sentiment made a new swell of warmth radiate from him. He looked so earnest as he smiled, making your skin prickle again. 

“T-Thank you.” You answered him slowly, a small wave of unease settling as you struggled to respond. “That’s…very kind of you to say.” 

You weren’t sure if you should take his words as comfort or not as you turned, intending to leave, but there was no doubt in your mind that you felt slightly different from hearing them. “Have a good evening, Father.” 

“Wait.” A sudden neediness in the soft plea made you want to scream. 

Taking a deep breath and holding it tight, your eyes clamped shut, and for some reason, you were almost terrified to look back. You were terrified because you wanted to stay there, touch him, and claim every inch of him, body and soul. 

Something settled, the overwhelmed feeling easing into sadness, and you turned to him, tears clouding your vision. 

“What would it take to ease your pain?” He asked, watching the tears roll along the curve of your jaw as he waited for an answer. His expression had turned hopeful, as if he might be able to do something beyond everything else. He had asked the question like he genuinely wanted to know the answer. 

“I don’t know.” You forced your mouth to move. The words were honest, and the agony was unrelenting. 

Without waiting for a response, you turned and left. 

Tag list: @celestialforce

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[randomthefox]

If there were supposedly Sungazers on the island the whole time, and the only reason they weren't seen was because they were hiding due to Eggmans presence on the island, then why are they still nowhere to be seen AFTER EGGMAN LEAVES THE ISLAND?

Trip's story takes place AFTER the main story featuring Eggman. Eggman is NOT PRESENT during Trip's story. There is no longer any reason for them to be in hiding

So where are the Sungazers?

Do YOU see any Sungazers? I sure don't see any Sungazers.

What about after the conclusion of Trip's story, where she has booted Fang off the island?

I don't see any Sungazers. Do YOU see any Sungazers? It sure seems like there aren't any other Sungazers to me.

What about after the Final story with the giant evil black dragon that Super Sonic fights?

I don't see any Sungazers here. Surely, if there were other Sungazers on the island, they should be present to address the giant evil black dragon that showed up, right? Surely they should be contributing in some way to the threat of the island, shouldn't they? And if not, if they are content to hide away and wait for Trip to handle it, then SURELY they should at least come out to CELEBRATE after the evil has been defeated?

So where are the Sungazers? Do you see any Sungazers? I don't see any Sungazers.

You know why you don't see any Sungazers?

It's because there ARE no other Sungazers.

And I'm sure defenders of this PIECE OF TRASH FUCKING COMIC BOOK would brush aside these points by saying what would basically amount to "Sonic Superstars was a bad game." Like "Oh the game just couldn't depict them." Or their favorite hobby of hating on SEGA/Sonic Team by saying something like "well they retconned it, they're always changing their minds" perhaps throwing in some cock stroking for Ian Flynn while they're at it by saying he's "improving" or "fixing" the game/franchise by "making Trip less of a Knuckles clone" and "subverting expectations." And of course the good ol' fashioned "SEGA approved of the comic therefore they're obviously fine with what the comic included, so you're not allowed to complain about it!"

Because people who pretend to like this god awful comic are incapable of actually praising or defending the comic. All they know how to do is shit talk the video games.

[bluegarners]

for a moment, let's pretend that batman is a little more than a fictional character and analyze it between the realm of reality and comic books

i think it's not a rarity to have a batman, or to become a batman. obviously what first needs to happen is conviction, and specifically a conviction in the possibility for change. bruce wayne isn't very special for having that conviction, and even a 10 year old bruce wayne isn't very special for having it. little kids have very headstrong beliefs all the time, a lot of them nonsensical and phase-ish. even more to the point, bruce wayne has never been the only little kid to witness a brutal crime against their family. that unfortunately happens every day, a hundred times over. so 10 year old bruce wayne forming the conviction that he can change gotham, that he can change the way the world works, is not altogether that unusual. it's reactionary and a direct result of trauma. going beyond that, kids believe they can change the world all the time because impossible has not yet confronted them yet via the power of their caregivers and the adults around them. there are a lot of things little kid's believe they can do due to who's around them. however, where the divergence begins, is that not every little kid has that. not every 10 year old has a loving family or support network. and, especially, not every 10 year old inherits millions

so, to that end, although bruce wayne is not supremely special in his convictions or in his becoming of batman, the resources he had before and after the trauma that took his parents away from him, are

i say all this to communicate that bruce wayne's circumstances are only special due to his wealth. every other aspect, all of his convictions, all of his training, all of his hard work- they're all quite typical and achievable. and i argue that as a form of encouragement

batman is possibly the biggest inspirational figure, outside of superman, for those struggling in an unjust world. bruce battles the unjustness of a law system that doesn't combat crime effectively, but he battles as a rich white man

the rest of the world, who aren't rich or white or a man, battles the same system with even more wrong doings up against them. there are a million real batmans out there, all doing what they can in small ways to fight against corruption. my local batman volunteers at marine wildlife centers and is majoring in political science to become an environmental lawyer. my university has hundreds of batmans showing up to protests and signing petitions and making sure people are registered to vote. there's a batman on facebook who gives out free cpr lessons and certifications

my point is, with all the real cheesiness and "you can do it" cat posters, is that although there doesn't exist a real bruce wayne, and all the rich white men in the world combined could never create a batman even if they tried for the years their money adds up to-

it's not difficult to be batman. you just have to have the conviction for it.

[wavebiders]

what do you think about campaign 2? is there anything it does better than campaign 3, and vice versa is there anything campaign 3 does better than it?

Interesting question! Gonna put the answer under a readmore since it'll probably get long and also bc my feelings on cr2 aren't all that positive so superfans of that campaign have a heads up to keep scrolling

So, I'm just gonna be completely honest up front and say I never finished cr2 so my judgement is gonna be very flawed. At the time I was younger and very caught up with the toxic positivity aspect of this fandom, so I stamped down basically every issue I had until it all spilled over and I was left feeling so negative about it I had to go complete cr cold turkey until tlovm aired.

I know that's oversharing, but I just don't feel right commenting on cr2 without being upfront about how my personal feelings on it come from a weird place. I try to be more objective about it these days, but I'm afraid I'm not entirely objective.

Anyway cr2 and cr3 are really two entirely different kinds of stories. The former I consider to be most like an open-world video game, while the latter is more like an ongoing comic book. It's hard to tell which one does things better because they're not really doing the same thing at all

In terms of pacing they both struggle in opposite directions. Cr3 has had too much going on for a long time with very little breathing room while cr2 was 90% filler. We haven't had balanced pacing since cr1 so for these two it's more about what you personally prefer. For me the difference would be determined by my connection to the characters.

Which brings me to the characters. This is of course the most subjective thing of them all. I'm not going to pretend I don't prefer the Bells Hells by a mile, but there is also a reason the Mighty Nein are so popular on social media. It's the party of NPC's vs the Be Gay Do Crimes party. The latter may has well have been built in a lab for tumblr queers. Hell it's what drew me to the show in the first place.

I think cr2 was more experimental for most cast members, with them really going outside their comfort zone(Travis playing a more serious character, Liam going more morally questionable, Travis and Ashley dipping into romance) and the results really resonated with a lot of people. Personally I struggled with most of the party for a few reasons. What they were trying didn't suit me, Ashley being gone for most of the early days, a party member dying before they could really get started, etc.

With cr3, I think it's clear they took the lessons they learned from the past 2 campaigns and really played into their strenghts while still exploring new ground. The fact that the players have lived in Exandria for so long now also allows them to craft backstories more tailored to the world around them which gives them a very unique feel. I also personally just find myself resonating more with the themes they chose to explore.

Honestly I could do a whole breakdown of each character and which ones I think work best for their campaigns but this is getting long enough so I won't.

Cr2 did spend more time digging into characters backstories but for me that had the massive downside of the gap between which characters got focus being incredibly blatant. I know people like to complain about main character Imogen, but that's nothing compared to how badly cr2 sucked at balancing narrative focus amongst the party.

That's not say I'm not bothered by cr3 not taking more time to explore things specific to the pc's backstories, but with the way most of them are tied to the main plot it still works. I do think it does a much better job at balancing focus, even if Imogen obviously has the strongest plot connection.

And finally, I think cr2 is best at being a more typical found family fantasy experience(cr1 is too but a very different flavor) in that you have a bunch of assholes slowly learning how to trust each other and help each other face their demons. The bond between the Hells is just as believable and more compelling to me personally, but it is not gonna scratch the itch a lot of people are looking to scratch with an actual play show.

What cr3 excells at is deconstructing tropes, posing ethical dillemas, really making you think about the world the story takes place in and considering different point of views. This is why so many long-term fans struggle with it so much. It's also why I think, especially if all 3 campaigns get adapted, cr3 will be the most memorable one with the biggest impact.

[raccoonfallsharder]

˚₊‧✶ headcanon 20 ✶‧₊˚

comics-rocket raccoon has eclectic cinematic tastes.

you'd think a guy like that would be all about the action and heist movies, but they actually annoy him to the point of fury. imagine skottie young's rocket waving rageful fists while he screws up his furry face and bellows cursewords at the screen, crimson eyes gleaming and teeth flashing.

they're so flarkin' impractical, he tells you later, mournfully, cradling his second six-pack of acanti blubber ale against his chest. i'd do it so much better.

ewing's rocket is too serious and cynical to allow himself to be seen enjoying movies, but you're suspicious. He always seems to have something to work on in the common room when drax is watching his intergalactic soap operas and his very-earther k-dramas. you're pretty sure you once saw him dismantle and rebuild an ion blaster four times in one sitting just so he wouldn't miss the end of romance is a bonus book.

he never acknowledges the screen and if you'd asked him to tell you about what you'd missed in today's episode of drax's current favorite historical love story, the missing princess of zen-whoberi, rocket would probably just stare at you blankly and tell you he didn't have a frutackin' clue what you were talking about.

but he knows. you know he knows.

mcu rocket? well. like many of his space-faring contemporaries—

he just frickin' hates actors.

they're liars, he reasons. pretending to be something they're not. and worse. kevin bacon's not too bad, but rocket only has a soft spot for him because he met the guy personally, and kb had apologized for the raccoon-comment. you try to repackage the idea to rocket: actors aren't liars, you say to him. they're story-tellers.

but the idea of a fiction that isn't a lie is hard to sell. and games of pretend are dangerous.

you eventually get him to settle into your living room for some reality television, which you remind him is still cut and clipped and manipulated to represent something that is only perhaps marginally-true. he snickers and makes rude comments the whole time, but seems to enjoy it — falling asleep curled around the enormous bowl of popcorn you'd made to sustain him while he binged the latest season of love is blind.

eventually, he shows a willingness to try to watch some other things with you. he's distrustful at first, but after some time, you catch him sniffling during certain scenes, and on the edge of his seat in others. like his skottie young counterpart, he's not a big fan of action and heist movies, always rolling his eyes with annoyance. he finds space-comedy to be boring as hell, staring flat-eyed at the screen — but serious space-dramas are hysterical to him. he cackles through every star wars movie and is literally crying with laughter during jupiter ascending and rebel moon. perhaps unsurprisingly, it's the documentaries he loves: nature and culture and pyramid schemes, though he's always mumbling about how frickin' primitive terrans are. he's also weirdly into slow, pensive coming-of-age dramas, which had surprised you until you'd realized that rocket's transition into adulthood must have been something far more traumatic than you could ever dream.

one more thing you've noticed about his viewing habits — he's got no taste for horror. when you mention it, he tells you that there are too many monsters out there to watch more of them in here.

except for michael flanaghan's fall of the house of usher, which rocket has watched in-full at least three times — possibly more often, because you're pretty sure he's hacked your netflix account and is watching stuff from space when you're not around. and you're not sure why he keeps watching it, when it makes him so damn morose afterward.

wish there was justice like that in the universe, he only mutters when you ask.

it's a haunting little curl of sound, coming from his mouth. so you don't press it — just hand him tonight's bowl of popcorn, studded with m&ms, and wrap the blanket around the both of you together.

find more headcanons & imagines here

i had to take a break from pompt week i'm sorry! the bite prompt is killing me. i rewrote it fifty-seven times (well, five) so i'm just gonna give myself a day or two to come back at it with fresh eyes. in the meantime please have this kinda depressing headcanon as a peace offering

also now i just gave myself the idea for a oneshot of rocket as a - participant? player? - on love is blind sooooo that might happen. eventually. i currently have too many ideas and not enough time.

[witchofanguish]

I think this is worth digging into because... yes. In the arguments which feed the roots of Vs Debates this is easier to ignore - if you're ultimately arguing about metal cans shooting each other in space then you can pretend they could exist in the same world, that what they are is comparable. However, this is a pretense. We can see it shatter obviously in cases like, say, Mage the Ascension, where the entire debate hinges on which cosmology you're accepting, because mages are only limited to relatively (by Vs Debates standards) limited feats due to an actively hostile environment, or TypeMoon. Is the Death Star an A-rank mystery? Would a Space Marine landing in MtAsc Manhattan explode from paradox? The answer is asking there questions marks you as deeply deranged. Okay, but Batman is a human, right? Supposedly made out of atoms and whatever? Why can't we compare him to humans? Well, no. To sound utterly pedantic, he's a fictional character, not a human. If a human kicks a tree and it bursts apart, we can conclude 'holy shit I do not want to be kicked by them, they've got TNT thighs'. We live in a world ultimately dictated by the standard model and general relativity. It has rules. The force it takes to blow apart a tree and to cave in a man's chest are relatable. If Batman kicks a tree and it flies apart, and you flip the page thinking 'oh man, oh man batman is going to cave in a man's chest in his next fight' you'd be wrong, you fool, he's going to get held up by a bunch of untrained dudes in sweaters holding pipes. The tree is for aesthetic, for looks and metaphor and style. It's an RPG character getting an unopposed roll against a piece of scenery and the GM saying 'yeah, go for it, break apart that tree in your rage, i'm not giving you a bonus to your attack rolls in the next fight'. Now, granted, if you saw Batman get held up by a couple dudes with lead pipes and figured a squad of ten ninjas or Darkseid, evil alien god, would destroy him you'd also be wrong. This is why 'feats' and 'calcs' for Batman don't matter. They aren't predictive. The aesthetic is. Some stories have calcs which meet their aesthetic decently well - the Culture, for example - and so we can use the calcs as a lesser substitute, sometimes. Other stories, like Mage the Ascension, have feats so contextual that a Vs Debate always starts and is mostly decided by which aesthetic you're letting predominate. So what's the aesthetic of Batman against 160,000 nerds? Well, it's... nonsense. That's not a number even the most ambitious comic book writer would throw at him, just use a decently big crowd of a couple hundred, and it's such a bizarre set-up that being 'in-character' is actively confusing things. But if Batman did have to fight a big crowd, how would he do it? Probably not with his fists. If he was in an enclosed area and it wasn't 100,000+ he might punch them out, one or two at a time, ending with a panel of the bloody, bruised Caped Crusader limping out of the basement of some seedy nightclub only to collapse into the Batmobile, which drives him back to Wayne Manor. If it was a bit more open - like a theatre, huh wonder if we've seen that - he'd fight for a bit and find some trick to escape and possibly trap/disable them. If it was really open he'd grapple out or call in his Batmobile's Tesla Autopilot Mode for pickup. If it was maze-like he'd use stealth. But in a big open arena, against 100,000, it's not in Batman's aesthetic to fight them at all. Edit: If the question that comes to you after reading this is 'why are you in Vs Debates, then?' And the answer is I'm looking for a good story about who would win. Or a good joke about how. The problem is a six megajoule kick, in this thread, is a joke being treated like a story.

[doubledyke]

Comparing Edd to Eddy, which of the two you would say gone through the worst shit throughout the show?

(regarding both their homelifes AND all the bad stuff across the episodes too).

putting this under the cut cuz it gets pretty miserable lmao

also, i'm including ed.

as far as the canon of the show and movie i'll go with eddy obviously because of the whole bro thing, and bc he's most often the target of everyone's rage. at least with ed and edd, there seems to be a baseline of decency and occasional kindness from the other kids. as soon as eddy rears his square head, everyone's groaning and patting at their pockets. nazz and rolf are okay towards him a couple times i guess, but it ends in disaster nonetheless.

still going strictly by canon events i'd say edd is next. he's so damn stressed the entire time that it stresses ME out. eddy and ed put him through a lot both mentally and physically. he's so frail 😭 he can't handle all that.

ending with ed just cuz he comes off as impervious to any physical harm, and blocks a lot of the mental stuff as a defense mechanism. he does whatever he can to stay in his happy place and he's gotten really good at it. not saying he doesn't go through anything or that he isn't affected, he's just the least affected of the three.

we don't have a ton to go off of in terms of their home life, which is totally fine by me. preferable in fact. as a disclaimer, it's generally shitty to compare trauma, but they're cartoon characters so i'll compare their *fictional* trauma lmao. all just my opinion etc., etc.

during the run of the show, my opinion is that ed has it the worst at home. i imagine that he's made to feel very much like the red headed step-child. it's his parents and sarah teaming up against him, blaming him for all their problems. belittling, degrading and and if he's lucky, ignoring him. his dad really just reacts to what his wife and daughter tell him, but he reacts just the same. ed is cast to the basement and they all try really really hard to pretend that he doesn't exist. maybe his dad takes pity on him from time to time and buys him a comic or a movie behind his wife's back. or maybe he doesn't. he certainly doesn't want to ruffle feathers and make himself more miserable than he already is. come on, he just got off work. and once again, ed checks out to survive. i think there would be a point where ed and edd kinda look at each other and are like "what the fuck" in response to seeing ed's treatment first hand. we kind of get something close to that in the show when ed tells them they literally took his stairs.

edd is next i guess cuz he's got such a terrible wake up call in his future. realizing that no dude, it's not even slightly normal to communicate with your parents strictly via sticky note. it's not normal for a kid to be expected to take care of every single chore and task around the house. and all the books, all the academic achievements, all the folded socks in the world aren't gonna make them love you. then dealing with his (i always use this word) DEBILITATING anxiety on top of all that? i've said it before but he's straight up burnt out by the end of the show at age 12/13.

edd by the start of bps:

i put eddy last bc at least during the show his home life seems relatively normal. his mom is very obviously doting and his dad is okay as long as he keeps that wrist tight. with bro gone, the immediate threat is neutralized, and he's in no hurry to unpack anything going on internally. much like the other two, there's a major realization and subsequent struggle in his future. but he's slightly more deluded than edd and is actually the last of the three to accept that his childhood was fucked up. even after bps, he kinda knows, but he's incapable of accepting that he was a victim. bruises heal, what's the big deal? bro didn't have to do all that in front of everyone though, geez. his self worth is so low that he doesn't believe his experiences can be considered abuse. he's the one that pissed his brother off, after all. and so on and so forth. anywho, if bro still lived in the house i'd probably put him at the top of the list cuz like... not to get too dark here but idk man "accidents" happen and who knows if bro could've been stopped if no one was around. my personal hc as to why bro left or was forced to leave is that there was a really close call.

so yeah they all have fucked up home lives and day to day lives. they're so miserable 🥺 yes i will compound it 🥹

[advice-to-try-8d]

What you can outside the internet

With no or almost no money for entertainment:

Mancala: Search Mancala Rules and how the game looks online dig some small holes on the ground or instead of holes draw circles on paper get some small stones or other small stuff and that's an easy 2 player game

Diy Bowling: get a couple of empty bottles you can take from a recycle bin if you have non fill with sand and throw a ball in that direction and call a couple of friends

Library: they don't only have books but some have free movies free computers comics or free events check them out!

Park

Make Belive: you can play pretend almost anywhere in the world with enough imagination you can pick up some sticks to add extra stuff or use building as part of the story if you get kicked out make it a part of it and move to a diffarant location! With some time and diy you can even make extra props look online for advice!!

The Apricot Pit Game: It's a game where you dry naturaly apricot seeds (after you finish the fruit) and try to throw them to score the most point into a predetermined area harder to throw more point for example you can cut holes in a shoebox and the hardest to score is more points or from farther away etc etc

Meeting at a friend place

Free art galleries schools may have more of those made by the students

Diy arts and crafts when your about to throw away something if you think it cam make a nice craft save it for later to have extra metirials to have fun with don't save all to not start accidently hoarding stuff but yes some an empty cardboard box can make a nice fairy house with some colors as I say

Planting stuff many ppl eat fruits and veggies that have seed when you finish you can plant some and see how it goes maybe search tutorials online and use the water from outside to not higher the water bill

Water Fight: if there's any hoes or chip balloons or even bowls you can fill with water you can start throwing water at each other good for a hot fay

Snowball fight: if you have opposite weather

Sand castle: If you have any sand near ya you can get some water maybe some spoons or even just your hand and start building sand castles aren't just for beaches they can be made anywhere there's sand

Going for a walk and following a random safe animal see where it goes maybe it will interact with you too ^^

Draw: if you have some paper and a pencil or even your finger and sand you can do that you can even look outside for inspiration and draw in the street

free outdoor games search that phrase online you will find there's more than you think!

Go visit ikea play pretend there or hide and seek the place is huge and cool

Invent games look at what you own what's near your home and do stuff inspired by it! Just keep it safe

Go visit a mall try on some clothes as you would play dress up with buying non or explore teh area

Search free event near me just eat beforehand cause the food is probably not cheap to cover it

You have old clothes your not happy with or don't fit you anymore make them into something new! If a jacket gloves crop top tank top doll clothes pillow case new bag whatever you pls! It's free fabric now same with old bedsheets or curtains your about to change if you want even more free fabric tell your friends taht if they are about to throw away clothes pls give them to you!

Ask for specific birthday gifts many ppl want to start hobbies they can afford or go on a specific adventure but sometimes if you ask for your birthday from a bunch of ppl to come togather fir the same gift you may be able to have it!

Picnic: if everyone brings a bit from home you can have something fun togather!

And there are many more! Just search the internet and use your imagination!

Humans are not ment to be trapped inside a digital world at all times so let's change it!

By letting ppl know they have options to live outside of it too!!!