#helena writes

[bobfloydsbabe]

gold rush | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

SUMMARY: Everyone knows history professor Bob Floyd is a little eccentric. He only drinks tea steeped for exactly four minutes, his desk is pristine while the rest of his office looks like a bomb went off, he's distrustful of technology, and he definitely doesn't want or need a teaching assistant. Certainly not one who's as aggravating as she is pretty...

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: ~0.5k

A/N: Eccentric Professor Bob Floyd has been on my mind constantly for the last week, so here we are with a moodboard and a short blurb. This AU will not be a full length series, but a collection of blurbs and drabbles. Special thanks to @ryebecca for raving with me about my new favorite grumpy man. Don't hesitate to send me questions and headcanons!

UPDATE: SERIES MASTERLIST

Bob stops dead in his tracks in the doorway to his office, hot tea spilling over the edges of the cup.

Inside, among piles of books and paper, stands a woman with her back turned none the wiser to his presence. She can’t be one of his students–they know not to come to his office unless they have an appointment.

“Who are you?” he asks, not bothered with pleasantries.

She turns around with a startled laugh. “Dr. Floyd, you scared me,” she says with a hand pressed to her heaving chest. “You can’t sneak up on people like that.”

“You’re in my office,” he points out, brushing past her as he walks to his desk in long strides, placing his cup on a coaster to protect the wood.

“Right,” she agrees.

He sits and pulls his books closer to continue preparing for his next lecture, but his eyes drifts back to the young woman. She appears to be in her mid, maybe late twenties. Dark hair falls in loose waves around her face, and she’s looking at him expectantly. “Did you need something?” he asks.

She cocks her head to the side, brows furrowed. “I’m waiting for you to put me to work.”

“Work?”

“Yes,” she answers, incredulous. “What did your old TA do?”

He stares at her, almost convinced he’s hallucinating. “I don’t have a teaching assistant.”

She smiles at him, wide and enthusiastic. “Well, you do now. Would you like me to clean up a bit? It’s a little messy in here.”

Bob suppresses a frustrated groan. Pushing back from his desk, he stands and rounds his desk, stopping in front of her. The scent of her perfume hits his nostrils, something spicy and vaguely floral, and this close, he can see all the colors in her eyes. “I don’t want a TA and I certainly don’t need one. Whoever hired you–”

“Dr. Kazansky,” she interjects. “–made an error. Now, please, leave.”

Walking back around his desk, he ignores the sound of her taking a deep breath and composing herself. She doesn’t speak until he’s fully sat and emerged in his books again.

“You may not want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she begins through clenched teeth, forcing him to look up. She holds his gaze, determination and a hint of defiance in those dark doe eyes. “But you’re stuck with me. So, I’ll be back tomorrow and we can start over. Have a good day.”

The door slams and Bob’s left in the silence of his office, staring at the spot where she stood mere moments ago. Of course, Dr. Kazansky went behind his back to hire a teaching assistant–he’s insisted that Bob needs one for years, but Bob’s always been able to avoid it. Until now, it seems. He wonders how long she’ll last before she realizes he’s too set in his ways to change. But as he imagines the way her nose will scrunch in annoyance, it occurs to him he never even got her name.

likes are nice, comments and reblogs are golden

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[hesbuckcompton-baby]

forgive me for this very last-minute entry to the @blind-dates-fest! allow me to introduce lucy 'luca' torrio to you all - my favourite partisan and jock mcdiarmid's deeply unhinged future wife

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

communion

Music filled the midnight air as someone thumped out a tune on the piano the SAS had commandeered in Augusta. The clumsy playing almost entirely drowned out by the din of voices, the partisans belting out an old Italian song, its lyrics as familiar to her as the pages of a childhood book.

Luca liked to drink - she liked to sing - and neither activity was in short supply tonight. Yet there she was, sitting on the church steps and watching on in motionless silence.

In the hours since news of Mussolini's arrest had made its way over the radio waves, her comrades' celebration had been impossible to avoid. The alcohol stores had been swiftly depleted - much to the eventual chagrin of those not involved - and she didn't doubt that the Irishman would have some choice words about it come morning. But for now, things were good; many of the SAS men joined with the music where they could, emptying their cups just as swiftly as the Italians. McDiarmid's deep, Scottish tone rang clear as it cut through the song, warbling along off-key and without any knowledge of the words in a reckless merriment that made an involuntary smile tug at her lip.

Her glass had been empty for a while. Too long.

Her boot scuffed against the stone steps as Luca hauled herself to her feet, glass balanced between her fingertips, scraping a few stray strands of red hair away from her face. The night breeze was cool against alcohol-flushed cheeks as she turned towards the church door, the din from outside muffled the moment she stepped inside. Each footstep echoed against the arched ceiling, throwing each inch of her intrusion back at her, amplified. It had been a long time since Luca had felt God had any place in her life - a long time since she hadn't felt betrayed.

The communion wine perched high upon the altar, a glimmer of moonlight catching against the glass as it streamed in through one of the narrow windows, glittering silver in the dark. It looked good. Perhaps more importantly, it looked easy to take.

Luca ran a hand across her face, tugging slightly at the skin, fighting against exhaustion with what may have also been a subconscious effort at snapping herself out of what she was about to do. The wine sloshed slightly as it was decanted into the chalice, the red pool almost black in the dark. She stared at it; a moment's hesitation. She could hear her father's voice from the long-ago days of her childhood, chiding her for any tiny misbehaviour in such a holy place. How his face would run pale to see her now. And yet, the wine slid down her throat as smoothly as any other.

"What would God say?" A Scottish accent rang out from the far end of the aisle, Jock's voice growing steadily familiar to her as their days of proximity ticked by.

His arrival had startled her. She didn't let it reach her expression. "Well are you gonna tell him?" Luca glanced back over her shoulder, offering a smirk.

He chuckled, a slight grin parting his lips. "Not if you share." Letting out a snort, she held out the bottle to him, using her free hand to lift the chalice to her lips again.

A yawn escaped Luca between sips, raising a hand to cover her mouth as her eyes screwed tightly shut. Jock shot her a smile as he stepped up to the altar beside her, accepting the drink.

"Not celebrating?" He asked after a long swig.

"Not 'til he's dead."

"Atta girl," Jock grunted with a nod of approval as Luca rolled her eyes, unable to stop the hint of a smile breaking out across her expression.

She wouldn't tell him why the fire that burnt inside her was different - why it couldn't be dimmed by something as fragile as progress, why the inferno would never lose its heat until the object of her hate was dead and buried. She wouldn't be known by him. Not like that. Not even when he gave her that look and she felt her resolve weaken for a moment. Even when she wasn't looking, her gaze wandering across the dimly lit pews and the glint of moonlight through stained glass, she knew he was staring. He often was - Luca wasn't quite sure if he couldn't tell or if he just didn't care, heedlessness and over-confidence both equally characteristic.

"Yunno," He said. "Your friends don't like me, I reckon."

"Really?" Luca gasped sarcastically, leaning back on her elbows against the altar. He snorted at her tone, a bubble of honest laughter popping in her throat, the sound echoing against the arched ceiling above.

"They don't think you're serious," She shrugged.

"They might be onto somethin' there."

Luca dug a tooth into the inside of her lip. "You wanna know what I think of you?"

Jock's brow arched, beginning to grin. "Oh, aye - now I do."

"I think I could put any woman within a hundred-mile radius in front of you right now and you'd flirt with her. Because you don't care about who's attached to a nice pair of legs."

"Okay, that's…" He paused to think for a moment, taking a sip of wine. "That's not entirely untrue," Luca snorted at the confession, his grin widening. "-But! I resent the accusation that I only flirt with you for your legs. Haven't even seen 'em - your trousers are too baggy."

She laughed again. "So you admit you've been flirting with me."

"I think we're past denying that, love."

Sucking in a long, deep breath, Luca nodded slowly. Eyes fluttering shut, she tilted the chalice, the remainder of her wine sliding down her throat in a single gulp, metal cold against her bottom lip. When she reopened her eyes, Jock was staring. Again. More blatantly than ever.

"You have a real staring problem."

He shrugged. "Not a problem. I can stop."

Luca's brow arched in challenge. "You sure about that?"

"Aye," Jock nodded, smirking as he lifted the bottle to refill her cup. "Just don't wanna."

[helena-edits-in-real-time]

Coffee & Cigarettes

Michelle meets Neil McCauley after everything has fallen apart. He's far removed from her past and her work and all of the things she's trying to forget, for which she is grateful. But when Habib Marwan threatens the safety of Los Angeles, Neil becomes an all-too-key figure of her present, too.

Chapter 1

[terrestrialnoob]

Continuation from Part 1

Jazz took a deep breath. It's going to be fine. She can be normal for one night. Even if Harley is willing to befriend weirdos on a whim she doubted anyone else would. The shadow beneath her feed rolled like boiling tar and emotions that weren't hers poked at her mind.

"It's okay, Jet. They're not going to hurt me. I'm just... nervous."

She took another deep breath, she'd been told to ignore the closed sign, and entered the Coal Mine. She wasn't sure what she was expecting with a name like that, but it looked like a normal, if kinda rustic bar. It was empty except for a blonde woman in the back of the room, setting up a big table with food and drinks.

"Sorry, we're closed to the pub-" She started speaking before she looked up, stopping once she saw Jazz. "Oh! You must be Jazz, Harley's new friend.... You're early."

Jazz's face turned a little red but she stomped down her unease. "Yep! That's me. Early bird Jazz."

The blonde woman laughed wholeheartedly, but Jazz didn't think her joke was that funny. The woman walked over to her, "I'm Dinah, welcome to my bar. I don't often host girls night, but you got lucky."

Jazz shook her offered hand. "It's a nice place!" Though, Jazz didn't really go to bars. She didn't drink a lot and bars weren't really her scene.

"Feel free to grab a snack, grab a drink. I'm going to finish getting ready. Everyone else tends to be late. Which I guess means you're not early, you're here when we asked you."

"Oh, alright! I'll remember to be late next time." Why did she say that? That's so stupid and rude.... But Dinah laughed again. "Right, um, if it's okay, I did bring something." Jazz offered the plastic bag she decided to reuse with a tray of fudge she made inside it.

"Oh, that looks good. I'll go get a knife and plate to set it out with the other snacks."

Jazz more or less sat in awkward silence as Dinah did her thing getting ready. She wanted to offer to help, but this is Dinah's bar. If anyone else was there, Jazz wouldn't feel the need to help, and she didn't want to get in the way. But this was a private party, so maybe Jazz should offer to help. Just to carry stuff to the table or-

Then the door opened again and two women came through. One was in an expensive looking leather jacket and with short brown hair and the other had a cheap looking leather jacket with long brown hair. The short haired woman started talking before she was even all the way through the door. "Dinah, you would not believe how bad traffic is downtown today. An entire hour to get from 19th to- oh, hello."

Jazz jumped to her feet when the woman addressed her. "Hi, I'm Jazz."

"Selina." She said with a raised eyebrow.

"Harley invited her." The long haired woman said. "You really should read the texts."

"I don't want to set a precedent."

"Still." The long haired woman nodded towards Jazz. "Name's Helena."

"It's nice to meet you." Jazz said with a smile, but it started to slip at the sight of Selina.

Selina gave her a hard look, sizing her up, judging. "You're Harley's friend?"

Jazz rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "She's been to my apartment... and invited me here."

There was a beat of silence before Selina gave an amused huff and said, "You do seem like her type."

Dinah laughed again - maybe she was just easy to make laugh. The two walked over to the table and Selina's eyes immediately settled on the fudge. She opened her mouth to comment but the door opened again and Harley burst through, pulling someone behind her.

"We're here! I even got a special something for- Jazz! You're here already!" She turned to the woman behind her and quickly pushed something into her hands before rounding back to the rest in the room. "Heya Jazzy! I'm happy you could make it! This is my wife - Ivy."

Ivy stepped forward and eyed Jazz with more curiosity than the suspicion Selina had or Helena's indifference or Dinah's more welcoming demeanor. "It's nice to meet you. Harley told me about her little visit to your home. You look... normal."

Jazz knew her face was even redder than before. "Well, normal is the goal, right?"

There was a beat when the other's in the room just seemed to stare at her. Harley barked out her own harsh laughter, "Not here it ain't!"

"O-oh..." Jazz didn't have a frame of reference for this. If normal wasn't what they wanted, then what did they want? Eccentric scientist like her parents? Harley was a vigilante, maybe that's what she should emulate?

"Don't worry." Ivy said as she passed Jazz to sit at the table, a potted plant on a nearby windowsill suddenly, and far too quickly, bloomed. "From what I've heard, I'm sure you'll fit in."

"Harley said that too. I'm just worried. I've never had my own friends before." Oh, shit, she shouldn't have said that. Only weirdos don't have friends.

"Same." Ivy said and picked up a piece of Jazz's fudge.

"Here too." Helena added, and gave the piece of fudge she'd been holding for a while a curious look. It must be unusual for everyone to react this way.

"IS THAT FUDGE? I love fudge!" Harley said and grabbed a handful to stuff in her mouth. "This is so good! Where'd it come from?"

"Oh. I made it. Didn't want to come empty handed, you know." Jazz said, joining the other's at the table and taking her own piece before Harley ate it all. "It's my mom's recipe, but it doesn't quite taste the same without the low-level radiation."

"Oh, you have to put the radiation in it next time!"

"Do not do that." Three other women at the table said in almost unison. Oddly enough, it was Helena who didn't join in.

"Why was there radiation in your mother's fudge?" Selina asked as Dinah started to deal out cards.

"My parents are kinda mad scientists - kinda also mad occultists. All the food in the house was contaminated, and part of the reason my brother and I are vegetarian." Jack and three.

Dinah seemed to loose her breath before wheezing out, "Even more the same."

"What?"

"I'm also a vegetarian, mainly because of the environmental nightmare farming is." Ivy supplied, she bet conservatively.

"Right, that's why my brother's friend is vegan."

"Wait, how does the contamination equate to being vegetarian?" Helena asked - getting excited as Dinah reveals the flop, a good hand then. "Did it make meat taste bad or...?

"Oh, it brought it to life." Jazz said as she traded a card. "I can't tell you how many reanimated headless turkeys and chickens I had to kill. Not to mention the hotdogs Dad trained to attack intruders, they also attacked friends and visitors too. That was too much, even for Spike."

"Holy shit, that's amazing." Harley said while Ivy and Selina looked horrified, Dinah was as entertained as Harley, and Helena was enjoying herself. "Can't say I've ever fought reanimated deli meats."

"Bruce has." Selina commented, and directed at Jazz, "My long-term boyfriend. Thought about marrying him for a little while, but it didn't really suit either of our lifestyles."

No animosity, only relief. Jazz smiled at her, "Different people have different needs. Not everyone needs to be married with children."

Dinah laughed, "And boy, does Bruce have children! How many does he have now? Six? Seven? I thought I read on the news he's got a new one."

"Technically yes, but he's just fostering Duke, not adopting. Once his parents are well again, he'll want to go home." Selina saw Jazz's curious face, but deflected to lighter gossip. "I'm not the motherly type, not that I'd be cruel to any kids I could possibly have especially if they're Bruce's-" She sighed "-but Bruce lives for his kids. He has four adopted children, one biological child from another woman - it's fine, we both have our fun - and two foster children.... I think."

"You're not sure?" Helena questioned. Dinah put out another card.

"I think Steph is a foster, but I never saw the paperwork for it. At the very least, she's living in his house." Selina said, then stared at Ivy. "Not getting lucky, dear?"

Ivy sneered and put her cards down. "I don't even know why I agree to this game."

"Is it the one game all night, or do you do other stuff?" Jazz asked. She's good at poker. Between her enhanced empathy and psychology degree, she was rarely fooled.

"Depends on the place. Dinah likes poker, so we play it when she hosts." Helena said, she looked at Jazz, then Harley and folded her cards. "And we quit when Harley wins all our money and play something else."

"That's right baby!" Harley cheered and slammed her cards face up on the table, "No one beats the Harley!"

Jazz and Selina put their cards down too, face up.

"I guess there are exceptions..." Harley said with a mischievous grin.

Selina grinned too, "Someone has to loose all of Bruce's money."

Jazz grinned as the pot was pushed her direction. "Well, then let me know when it gets boring of just me and Harley playing."

The entire table laughed. Yeah, Jazz was starting to feel like she really would fit in here.

[cicimellie]

severance continues to get wilder. gretchen cheats on her husband with her husband; don't let her husband find out! ham-based throuple gets significantly more ominous. helena convinced mentioning local depressed alcoholic widower's dead wife by the wrong name is a surefire way to get him to need her carnally. somewhere markhelly is wasting company time getting freaky under a table. milchick beefs with child and paperclips.

[autisticrosewilson]

You're all fucking wrong about Catholic Jason he wouldn't feel guilt about Jack shit, ESPECIALLY not killing. He would get the All-Blades and be convinced that this is God's go ahead and divine confirmation that he's right about everything and all of his opinions are valid and everyone who opposes his worldview is a moron blinded by idealism and naivete.

[crimeronan]

still thinking about that last ten minutes of s2e4 of severance like. an entire day after watching it. god. what good goddamn writing. what fantastic fucking characterization. irv being the one who's clever enough and hypervigilant enough to clock that something is Wrong with helly, him having played politics with mark and dylan and helena, his "don't trust her," the whole thing with the montauk monster, "it must have seemed paranoid, irrational," the way irv way back at the beginning of the show is the most rules-abiding devout follower of the cult of kier, the way his character arc culminates with him drowning an eagan and spitting on the cult that used to be his entire self, him screaming "BRING HER BACK" because this eagan has functionally Killed his dear friend and he loves his dear friend more than he'll ever love the eagan legacy, irv's complete character transformation from The Rules Guy We Can't Trust to the "I'LL RIP YOUR THROATS OUT IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME MY LOVED ONES RIGHT FUCKING NOW" guy, the way he cradles helly when he does what he set out to do, the way he has sacrificed himself for his loved one just as surely as throwing himself in front of a bullet, the sardonic peace on his face at the end knowing there's nothing more that can be done to him, especially when he's been suicidal from the start of the season...... AWOOOGGAAAAA!!!!

television of Ever!! EVER EVER EVER!!!

THANKS!!

[sorrydetka]

outie mark and helena are so similar…… outie mark violating innie marks autonomy by creating him and then reintegrating; helena violating innie mark by pretending to be helly… there’s layers to this folks, stay with me

[not-another-robin]

Im thinking about Helena and old(er) Alfred... pap pap and grandbaby

[havendance]

I have to offer: AU snippet where Tim travels back in time to Knightfall and bothers Helena about it :)

Helena's apartment had been invaded. There was a cape hanging over the back of her couch, a pair of boots tossed haphazardly on the floor, and curled up on her couch balancing a laptop at an uncomfortable looking angle with an open bag of chips next to him, was a familiar teenage boy in green tights and a sweatshirt.

She set her groceries down on the counter "What," she said, "are you doing here?"

Robin looked up. "Helena!" he said with far too much enthusiasm for someone she teamed up with once and who was now acting far too comfortable in her space. "It's a long story." He wasn't, she noticed, wearing his mask this time.

The show of trust was appreciated, she had to admit. The showing up without warning was not. Helena crossed her arms and gave him the do you want to try that again look she'd perfected on her students.

He grinned back, unphased.

"My apartment is not a clubhouse, kid."

"I'm here for business," he said, unconvincingly. "I have a proposal."

"Which is?"

"How would you like to become Batman?"

"Excuse me?"

He had a whole presentation prepared, it turned out. Apparently that was what he'd been doing while eating her chips.

"Sorry," he said unconvincingly when she pointed this out.

Helena sighed. "Just show me this presentation."

"You know what happened to Batman," Robin said. In case she didn't remember, the first slide had the picture of Batman being tossed down into the streets by Bane that every news station had been running for the past week.

Helena nodded. "Yes."

"Well that left Gotham in a bit of a mess..."

Point 1 of Robin's argument: Gotham needed Batman. This was argued with a fervent sense of bone deep conviction on Robin's part and also graphs. Lots of graphs.

"I get it," Helena said, after he'd been talking for at least five minutes. "I think you can move on."

He made a face at her, but skipped past at least half a dozen more graphs to get to point 2: Batman's chosen replacement sucked for reasons including assassin brainwashing, not listening, and also more graphs of predicted casualty reports.

"Where did this data come from?" she asked, looking closer. There were some awfully specific points on that graph...

Robin skipped forward. "Not important. Just trust me on this," he said, sounding untrustworthy.

"So why me?" she asked when he finally got to the end.

"I can't take down Azrael on my own," he said, "and it's not like I can put on the Batsuit on afterwards either."

Helena waved a hand dismissively. "That much was clear, but why not someone more trustworthy."

"I trust you," Robin said without hesitating which was both endearing and also a little intimidating.

"But what about that Nightwing guy? Wouldn't he make a better choice."

For the first time that evening, Robin dimmed slightly. He looked away, an unreadable expression on his face. "Nightwing's... complicated," he said. And then, lighter again: "And maybe I want to make Batman sweat a little after ditching me with Azrael. Come on, it'll be fun. Please?" he added when she didn't say anything.

He made a very tempting case was the thing. Helena doubted that it would be as easy as he made it out to be, but it would be fun to mess with the real? former? Batman some.

"If we're doing this, does this mean I get to know who I'm partnering with?" she asked.

"Tim," Robin said, far easier than she was expecting. "Tim Drake. We have a deal then?" He stuck out a hand.

Helena shook. "We have a deal."

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

ONYX STORM SPOILERS (for your readers)

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If you feel like it, will you expand on how you think they are still involved romantically in the end of onyx storm? Like I get that they are married but that seems to more to secure Violet’s future without him. It doesn’t seem to be because he has any hopes of any kind of future for the two of them together. Romantically or otherwise. He doesn’t want her to look for him. Aren’t they as broken up as they can be at this point? I’d love to hear your thoughts (and love another/different perspective because these thoughts I’m currently having are honestly making me feel ill).

Also thank you for your contributions to the fandom!! Honestly I think fanfic is the only thing that’s gonna get me through this. Hope we get an upsurge of riorgail fluff from everyone 🙏🏼

I have never felt like doing anything more, anon!!! I get what you're saying, and I think that's the way Rebecca/Red Tower WANT us to see it, because they want us to be anxious about where it's going so that we buy the next book. However, I refuse to subscribe to that! Here's why:

(I wrote an actual essay, so it's below the cut:)

"Together romantically" My answer to the other ask was me visiting the Xaden Liarson school of verbal gymnastics so that I didn't spoil the ending for that anon. However, judging by Xaden's behavior throughout ALL of Onyx Storm (and frankly, books 1 and 2 as well) he wouldn't marry her just to dip overall. Like, even not being meta here, he wouldn't do that. He's selfish when it comes to her, for one thing, and he says this repeatedly. For another, he CLEARLY wants to marry her just to marry her. I don't want to get sucked in to another re-read (and someone else asked for my thoughts on the ending in general, so I'll reply to that ask once I'm done with my second re-read in the next few days with more page numbers and quotes and things) but in the scene with his mother, Xaden's reaction seems to illustrate that marriage is NOT a tool for him like it was for his father. He wants to marry Violet because he loves her. Now, obviously the shotgun (crossbow?) wedding was ALSO a move to protect her and solidify her place without him as you said, but with how he talked about marriage throughout the book, and how he talked about HER, he's not marrying her just to dip. He's just not! It means something to him, as she does, and he's not going to forsake that.

Violet Violet isn't letting him marry her just to dip either. Her thoughts throughout the entire book are that she isn't scared of him and she isn't running, and she isn't letting him run from her, either. The way the scene is set up with Sgaeyl, we see:

(Sgaeyl) glances over her shoulder. "And you think she'll help?" "She loves me." "Tairn does not, and you haven't looked in the mirror yet. The red veins branching from your eyes look like her lightning." "She'll help." It comes out with a hell of a lot more certainty than I feel. "She promised."

I am slightly worried about pronoun fuckery in this bit, but we know Violet loves him more than anything, and this portion of Xaden's chapter makes it clear Violet has to agree to whatever the plan is (murdering dragons, stealing eggs, etc) and that Tairn does as well. I think Tairn would actually support them breaking up, to a certain degree, and whatever the plan is, Sgaeyl does NOT think Tairn will be down.

And then, for more confirmation:

"We will ask," Sgaeyl finally says, flexing her claws in the rocky soil "And her decision will determine our fate."

They need Violet on board for whatever they're doing. Violet isn't going to be on board with him dumping her post wedding. I know some of these lines can point in other directions, but I don't think they do, for the reasons I'll go on to spell out below!

3. Memories I know some people were confused about what, precisely, Imogen made Violet forget, and it seems like she's missing 12 hours (which, insane signet growth, Im). I could not get over Violet forgetting her wedding. Hours after I finished the book, I was like, oh my God. She can't remember her wedding, and I burst into tears. Repeatedly. At length. Which is insane, because these books NEVER make me cry. All this to say, (again, given Xaden's tone specifically surrounding marriage) they aren't going to take having her forget their wedding lightly. They just aren't. She has to forget everything in those twelve hours, because she helps Xaden concoct/finalize whatever the hell he's planning on doing (I'll probably share what I think he's planning on doing in my response to the ask I mentioned above, but the gist of it for now is that mans is going on a quest of his own), but Violet ASKS Imogen to make her forget. In the marriage aspect, Xaden's protecting Violet, but in forgetting, Violet's protecting Xaden. This is why I say romantically together as well. I think the love is more important than anything else. I think the point of this book was to make it clear they'd both do absolutely anything for the other, and the ending is a culmination of that. I know some people suggested that they have her forget so that she can't be interrogated and used against him, and I think that's definitely true (although I think making her duchess also protects her from this, but Violet has always doubted her own ability to lie). Personally, my gut instinct interpretation was that deal she made with Ridoc that she'd let Ridoc kill him if Xaden took being venin too far (which, side note, do we all just forget about them being interconnected when it suits us??? He can't die because then Violet will die. We've been over this. I digress). Clearly everyone seems to think his little "display" at the end of the book is "too far." I don't know if he killed anyone important in that scene (again, I actually thought Bodhi dies? At first? And THAT was why she had to marry Xaden to secure the duchy while he was gone? but Red Tower seems to be very in tune to fandom priorities, and with how many people love Bodhi, killing him off page would certainly be a choice) but he's still at least an Asim, if not a Sage (given the veins, I'm 99% sure he's a Sage, but again, we don't get anything concrete in that ending. side eye, Red Tower. side eye.) and therefore everyone thinks he betrayed them, and he needs to get out of there before everyone else kills him! By forgetting, Violet is saving his life. That's romantically together to me.

4. Quest! Xaden doesn't leave Violet to pull an Edward and frolic around Europe for a few months or whatever it is. He has a plan. This what he shows Sgaeyl, I believe, and what Vi and Tairn have to agree on. It involves stealing the dragon eggs, killing the elders and/or the other dragons (save me third re-read of this damn scene, save me) and getting the hell out. @maethologies told me privately that the very act of going on the Quest means Xaden has hope for a "cure", just like Violet said he still had hope if he was trying to get Brennan to mend him. I think this is the Second Krovlan Uprising tie in: trade the dragon eggs (side note: why are there 7? did Andarna steal an egg and bring it back ????) and get allies against the venin (and eventually Navarre) (and perhaps do other cure-related tasks, idk). I also personally think Xaden's going to find more answers for Violet about her connection with Dunne. A huge theme of this book was that (explicitly) Xaden and Andarna don't know who they are, but Violet doesn't really know either. She spends book 3 helping them, and in book 4, I think they help her. Basically, he returns to the isles for quest part 2! Also, I think bringing 3 riders with him is a clear sign he's not just dipping. I'm hoping my second re-read helps me finalize who the hell he brought with him besides Garrick, but if they go to the isles like I'm thinking, my moneys on Dain or Aaric for the language translation (both of whom love Violet). I have a variety of other quest nonsense to share in the other ask, but the gist of it is that he is moving with a purpose! And his purpose is Violet! Because he's in love with her!

5. Meta This is where I get a LITTLE messy. I don't know if everyone reading this saw my 2024 reading wrap up, but I have read the vast majority of RY's catalog, and I consider myself to be very familiar with the themes she likes to write, and the situations she likes to return to, over and over again. A HUGE focus for her is the war in Afghanistan. She's been obsessed with that for ten years, which makes complete sense given who she is and her lived experiences. If you happen to not be super familiar with Rebecca as a person, her husband was in the military for a very long time, and her primary sub-genre is military romance. I don't know if this carries over internationally, but in the United States, marrying your partner early on in your military career is incredibly common, because it protects them in the event of your death and while you're deployed. I was really upset about him marrying her and then immediately leaving at first, but when I thought about it, it makes complete sense for who Rebecca is and what she's gone through. I'm not trying to accuse her of self inserting or anything like that, but she clearly likes to write situations that are important to her (as do I! As do we all!) and so it makes sense to me that she'd call upon something like this for X and V. It does NOT make sense to me that she'd call upon something she went through with her husband she's still married to and then make it a break up. Will it cause tension? Obviously! But to quote Mr. Riorson himself, they're past the break up stage. (Rebecca does some silly things with foreshadowing in her books, and sometimes she says things like this to prove them wrong, and other times, she says things like this prove them right. I really think this is a "prove them right" scenario, but I'm basing that off vibes, frankly, and my knowledge of her body of work. My Rebeccca-dar, if you will.)

6. Xaden Liarson I see your point about the note, and maybe I'm deranged, but I do actually just think he's lying. I don't think he's stupid enough to think she won't come looking for him at this point. He knows her too well for that. I think the "don't come looking for me" or whatever it is is a cover up for everyone else who thinks he betrayed Tyrrendor. Also, it slows her down! I am certain she'll look for him eventually (peep her broken compass from the god of luck, anyone?), but the note + the memory wiping make it so she can't immediately go looking for him. I think that's the point of it, not that she never looks for him again.

To conclude this literal essay, I think they're still together romantically because of Riorgail's most up-to-date characterization on their own and dynamic together, as well as who Rebecca is as a writer. I actually could probably write another essay on this, and I probably will in the other ask, but if there's anything else, let me know!! I need to bleed this book out of me so I can be normal again. But even if they are "broken up", it doesn't matter long term. The five book series WILL end with them together. That's how romantasy works. Xaden isn't dying. Violet isn't dying. Everyone else is fair game, but those two are fine, LOL.

Also, you are SO welcome for fic, always. I am not a fluff girly, unfortunately. I don't really write it in general, but we'll see if I get possessed. I do have a girl dad Xaden fic in the works (in which I have to re-work their wedding....) and I have some new smut ideas I want to write sometime soon! I think that will scratch the itch for me, anyway! As I've mentioned throughout this post, my hangover cure of choice has been to dive right back into Onyx Storm again, and I honestly think that was the best idea for me. I didn't do that after Iron Flame because I thought it was somehow "bad" to do so, and then I just longed for these characters for months. But, you do you! I wanted to make a masterpost of my hangover cure recs, but we'll see if I ever get to it. If you've read this far I am personally giving you a virtual gold star.

[bobfloydsbabe]

make the tables turn (the rewrite) | jake seresin x oc

a turning tables fic

SUMMARY: Jake goes in for a routine physical, but is shocked to learn that his doctor is Jasmine Lane—the woman he tried to take home the night before.

WARNINGS: Getting weighed, inaccurate medical stuff. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

A/N: I decided to not take down the original chapters of Turning Tables, so you can still find the fic in its original iteration. It will remain up until I'm done with the rewrite, so you can still enjoy the story in its entirety.

ORIGINAL MASTERLIST | REWRITE MASTERLIST

“Thank you, Lt. Garcia. That’s all for today,” Jas said, putting a final note in his chart.

“Thank you, Dr. Lane,” he said with a crooked smile and did the last few buttons on his khaki uniform. He bid her goodbye with a small wave, exiting the treatment room. 

Leaving the door slightly ajar, she heard him speak to someone in the waiting area, wishing them luck. She glanced at the file of her next victim, confirming that the voice in the waiting room belonged to exactly who she thought.

Martha, the head nurse, came in to top up the supply of needles on the cart in the corner. “Who’s your next victim?” She asked and straightened the already straight line of needle packs.

Martha had become a reassuring presence when Jas was first reassigned to Top Gun. She was a shoulder to lean on and she listened to Jas’ rants about how much she hated prescribing fluids and rest to men who really should be able to handle a little flu without seeing a medical professional. Martha brought her coffee on their shared night shifts and told Jas to get it together when she complained about the long and boring hours.

“Can you please send in Lt. Seresin?”

Martha’s eyes narrowed. “Watch out for that one,” she warned and went to collect him from the waiting area.

Sitting in her chair, Jas tried not to grin at the prospect of the look on his face when he saw her. He had no idea he was about to come face to face with the woman he had failed to take home.

She heard him before she saw him.

“Listen, Doc, I’m in peak physical condi…” he trailed off, stopping in his tracks just inside the threshold of her office, eyes trained on her. Martha closed the door behind him, sending Jas a knowing look.

“I’m sure you are, lieutenant,” Jas said and stood, offering her hand for him to shake, which he took with a skeptical look in his green eyes. “But you’re required to be here, so suck it up. I’m Dr. Lane.”

“You,” was all he said.

“Me.” She let go of his hand and gestured to the exam table. “Have a seat.”

He didn’t move. He looked every bit as attractive in the fluorescent lighting of her office as he had in the yellowish glow of the bar the night before. The only difference was the accusatory gleam in his eyes. “You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

“You didn’t ask,” Jas answered and gestured for him to sit once more.

His eyes hardened, but he still sat. “I asked what you did for work,” he argued.

“That you did,” she agreed. “And I told you I’m a doctor, which I am.” She waved a hand around her office at all the medical equipment, then adjusted the stethoscope around her neck for good measure. She shouldn’t wear it that way for safety, but old habits die hard.

He stared at her. “You lied.”

“I didn’t.”

“Lying by omission is still lying.”

She shrugged. “Maybe, but you were too busy trying to get in my pants to notice.” His mouth flattened into a tight line while his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you ready to begin?”

He grumbled a yes and answered a few routine questions. When Jas asked him to stand at the measurement on her wall, he did so without complaint. She joined him and brought the block down, noting the height on his chart.

“Have I grown, Doc?”

It was as if he’d flipped a switch. The sour mood of just a moment ago now replaced with an easy smile and a confident lilt to his tone. Jas saw it for what it was: an attempt to get the upper hand, but she had played this game many times before. He would have to do better if he wanted her to crack.

She met his gaze. “No.”

His brows drew together for an almost indiscernible second before he schooled his expression back into the unbothered folds of before.

Jas consulted with her checklist. “Okay, if you’ll just hop on the scale for me.” He turned to it, but she stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “Without your shoes.” 

He glowered. Gone was the smirk and the air of nonchalance he tried too hard to put on. In its stead was a seething temperament and barely concealed frustration. If she wasn’t enjoying this so much, she might have taken pity on him and stopped taunting him, but he was too much fun to tease. It was his own fault, really. Hadn’t he been cocky in his conviction that he could get Jas to sleep in his bed just the night before?

He sat on the exam table and undid the laces of his standard issue boots in silence.

He stood on the scale, and Jas joined him by it, adjusting it until it was even. She felt his eyes on her, assessing her every move and breath. Usually, her patients were eager to get this part of the exam over and done with, not keen to be weighed, but Hangman seemed unfazed.

“Alright,” she muttered, clearing her throat. “Weight is normal.” She glanced up, finding his eyes still trained on her. The smile had crept back, the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Do I have something on my face, lieutenant?” She asked, stepping away to note the weight on his chart.

“You’re beautiful,” he drawled as he stepped off the scale.

“So you told me last night,” she reminded him, grabbing onto the ends of the stethoscope around her neck. “But charm won’t get me to change your weight.”

He frowned. “I wasn’t—”

“Now, have a seat on the table so I can check your vitals.” He crossed the room to the table and sat. “Remove your uniform shirt.”

He smirked, cocky and self-assured. “If you wanted me to strip, all you had to do was ask,” he said, his voice lower than before as he undid the buttons on his shirt.

“Your undershirt can stay on,” she informed him.

He frowned again, but didn’t argue. He placed the khaki shirt on one end of the table and offered his arm to her, familiar with the process of a physical. Jas placed the blood pressure monitor on his arm and ignored the feeling of his muscles rippling under the surface of his skin. She could make out every corded muscle in his shoulders under the white undershirt, and her mouth went dry.

She could feel him watching her again. Jas bit her lip, concentrating on reading the results on the monitor, not the thrilling feeling of his attention solely on her.

“Okay,” she breathed and undid the band of the monitor. “Blood pressure looks fine.”

“No need to be modest, Doc. It’s perfect,” he proclaimed. “I’ve gotten many compliments on my blood pressure.”

Jas snorted, unable to help herself. “I find that hard to believe.”

She went to her desk to note down the results before moving on to listen to his heart and lungs. Both sounded good, and she was a little annoyed that his numbers were essentially the same as his last physical. Perfect. If there was ever any reason to hate a man, this had to be it.

“Right,” she began. “I’m just going to have a look at your ears and throat. Open up.” She placed a wooden stick on his tongue and shone a light down his throat. She shouldn’t imagine what that mouth would feel like pressed against hers, or what wicked things his tongue could do to her body, but the vision was vivid in her mind. Jas forced the thought from her mind and ignored the fluttering feeling in her stomach. It was the last thing she needed right now. 

After clearing his throat, she looked in his ears and found nothing out of the ordinary there either.

He really was in peak physical condition, and she almost hated him.

The Navy was truly punishing her. She had saved a man’s leg, and this was the thanks she got? Having to check high and mighty fighter pilots over for issues that weren’t there? 

Silently fuming, Jas walked back to the desk once again to check off the throat and ears on her list, then returned to Seresin, who still sat dutifully on the exam table. “I’m just going to check the lymph nodes in your neck, okay? Then we’ll check your vision afterward.”

He smirked. “Go ahead, Doc.” Jas placed her hands on either side of his neck and felt for swelling under the skin.

“How’d you end up stationed here?”

Jas leaned back, hands stilling on his neck. “Why?”

He put his hands up. “Good, old-fashioned curiosity.”

“It’s a long story,” she admitted, hoping the answer would be enough to discourage any further questions. She dropped her hands from his neck and walked to the back wall, turning on the light in the vision chart.

“Do you take any medications?” she asked, handing him the occluder.

He shook his head. “Make a long story short?”

“Not a chance,” she said. “Now, cover your left eye and read the line with the smallest letters you can see.”

He rattled off all the letters on the bottom row without issue and did the same with his right eye. Jas rolled her eyes and took the occluder back from him.

“Any unusual moles or other marks on your skin?”

“No,” he answered. “Tell the story over a drink, then?”

Jas snorted. “Not gonna happen.”

He hummed. “Alright, your loss.”

“Oh no. How will I ever survive?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

His eyes darkened, going from the color of sea glass to mossy green. He stood from the exam table and strode toward her like a predator on the hunt, and Jas’ breath caught in her throat. He stopped right in front of her, their chests a hairbreadth away from each other. He was only a few inches taller than her, but she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

“You’ll change your mind,” he said, voice low and sultry. “Soon, you’ll beg for my time.”

The moment broke.

Jas stifled a groan and placed a hand on his chest, forcing him to take a step back and put distance between them. “I think I need to refer you to a specialist,” she told him seriously.

He frowned. “What’s wrong with me?”

Jas turned back to her desk and picked up his chart. She pretended to study it, allowing herself a moment to regain her composure. “I think you need to have your ego surgically removed,” she explained. “It’s a risky procedure, but you should be just fine. You might even get a date afterward.”

Hangman groaned, running his hands over his face. “Are you done?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Not even close, but I’ll spare you for today. You can put your shirt and boots back on.”

Jas jotted down some additional notes in his chart, including his perfect eye test, as he redressed. She put the pen down and placed her hands in her lab coat while she waited for him to finish tying his shoelaces.

He stood, and their eyes met. A battle of wills locked in a stalemate. His signature smirk spread across his handsome face. “I’ll see you around, Doc,” he said and tipped an invisible hat to her, reaching for the door handle. Jas could acknowledge that he was charming without shuddering at the admission. Almost.

“I’ll count the hours,” she joked.

Hangman abruptly turned around and caged her in between the desk and his body. She could feel the heat radiating off him. He bent his head down, and Jas felt his breath on her lips. Her eyes darted to his for a split second, but he had caught her. She knew by the way the corner of his mouth turned up.

“I’ll be thinking of you tonight,” he said, voice barely audible. The implication was obvious, and Jas’ cheeks grew hot for the first time in his presence. She hoped it wasn’t noticeable in the fluorescent light or she would never hear the end of it.

He stood back, and Jas tried to hide the fact that she had to gasp for air.

“You have a nice day, Dr. Lane.”

He winked at her and exited her office, leaving the door open and allowing the thick tension in the room to dissipate. She was still catching her breath when Martha escorted her next patient into the room.

“Dr. Lane, are you alright?”

Jas snapped her head up, finding Martha and a bespectacled aviator looking at her with worry etched into their features.

She forced a smile. “I’m fine.” She offered her hand to the aviator, who shook it dutifully. “You must be Lt. Floyd. Have a seat.”

As Jas went through Floyd’s physical, her thoughts kept returning to Hangman, trying to understand exactly how he had gained the upper hand.

She wasn’t sure, but she vowed to get it back. Whatever it took.

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

i no longer have a taglist. follow @bobfloydsbabe-library for updates.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Ok, so this is the MUCH REQUESTED addition to Chapter 8 of I'm Your Man, in which Rosie is forced to put Jill to bed on Christmas day. This one's for the girl-dad Rosie fans, I love you.

Word Count: 1.6k

Her fingers were sticky as they clung to the cuff of his sleeve, tugging downwards against his shoulder, the remnants of a hastily devoured mince pie lining her mouth. Rosie wasn't sure he'd ever been responsible for something so tiny before - so fragile, so utterly beyond his own understanding. The stairs creaked beneath their feet as they climbed, cast in the shadow of a single bulb, illuminating the upstairs hallway. Here it felt like stepping into the past, into a part of Frankie's life that she had long since left behind, old crayon doodles littering the wallpaper at knee height that no one had ever bothered covering over.

It was a motif in all of her childhood drawings - two stick figures, a huge man and a little girl, holding each other's little stick hands and smiling little stick smiles. Up ahead, Jill waddled into the bathroom, socks sticking to a puddle on the tile. She dragged a small box stool across the floor, hauling herself up by the rim of the sink until she could only just see her own face in the mirror, her reflection never making it past the bridge of her nose.

"Whatcha doin' there?" Rosie asked, leaning against the doorframe. She had handed him the ragged old teddy bear that she had been carrying in one hand, and he tucked it under one arm, its head poking out as if watching over the scene before it.

The girl's brow furrowed, looking over at him as if he were a fool. "Brushin' teeth."

"Ah, I see," He nodded. In her obscured reflection, Jill couldn't see the mess that covered the lower half of her face, and before she could raise the brush to her mouth, he stepped forward. "Hey, hey, wait a sec."

She raised a brow, tracking his movements as Rosie crouched down before her, their eyes at level height. Dipping one hand into the warm water she had half-filled the sink with, he gently rubbed the pad of his thumb around the corner of her mouth, wiping away the muck. There was certainly a family resemblance when he stood this close, the same brown eyes even beneath that crop of silver-blonde hair that never seemed to lay flat. Jill giggled, his soft touch tickling her cheeks, and he felt himself mirror her grin as he finished, washing away the stickiness from his hands. "There ya go. All done."

"Aw," The girl tutted disappointedly, craning as high as she could to catch a glimpse of her freshly cleaned face in the mirror. "Will there be more pies tomorrow?"

Rosie chuckled, folding his arms across his chest as he stepped back into the doorway. "I'm sure there will be. But not if you don't brush your teeth first."

Jill obliged, and he could hear her whispering through the foam that filled her mouth as she brushed away, quietly counting the seconds like she'd no doubt been taught, making sure she did a good job. He smiled, fighting every urge in his body to ignore the conversation that drifted up to his ear from downstairs.

"That lad's in love with you, else he wouldn't have crossed the bloody country on Christmas Eve to come eat old carrots with you."

It seemed almost too much to take in in a single moment - too heavy, too full of brilliant, wonderful implications for him to deal with right now. The only way to stop himself from standing there, frozen, hanging on every word, was to convince his mind that this was a mission - that this little girl on her wooden step, toothpaste foam running down her chin, was his only objective, and he couldn't afford to be distracted.

Jill bent forward, spitting into the sink, wiping the back of one chubby palm across her face to clean it. The floor creaked beneath her as she jumped down from her step, baring her teeth at him as proof of her hard work. Rosie narrowed his eyes, inspecting closely. "Open up," He demanded, authoritative tone making the child giggle as she stretched her mouth open as wide as possible, peering up at him as he surveyed the job. "Excellent job, soldier - we oughta put you in for a medal for this one," Rosie grinned, raising a hand to his forehead in salute, and a gleeful laugh erupted from her, echoing in the tiny room.

It was a short walk to the girls' bedroom, and he realised upon entering that it must have once belonged to Frankie's parents, sacrificed by her father to accommodate their growing family. The two girls shared a double bed, and Alice had already rolled onto her side, facing the wall as she read a book quietly, waiting for her sister to settle. Rosie uttered an apology as they entered, but she seemed entirely unphased by the noise as Jill clambered clumsily up onto the mattress, clutching her teddy to her chest. "Storytime," She uttered, whispering in the dim light.

"Ah, right," He nodded, and waited until the girl pointed to one of the books that filled the shelf on the wall. Rosie pulled it from the rest, smiling at the boy and the little yellow bear that decorated the cover. His knees ached as he crouched down beside the bed, flicking through the battered, yellowed pages until Jill held out a hand, stopping at the section she liked best.

"What a good choice," Rosie declared. Although the book bore almost no familiarity for him, it was clear in the wear of the paper that it had been loved.

Jill listened intently, blankets tucked up to her chin as he read, angling the book towards her so that she could see its illustrations.

"'Hallo Pooh,' he said. 'How's things?'

'Terrible and Sad,' said Pooh, 'because Eeyore, who is a friend of mine, has lost his tail-"

"Do the voices," Jill whispered, her voice so meek and tired that Rosie almost didn't hear her over the sound of his own.

"What's that, honey?"

"You've gotta do the voices. Everyone always does the voices."

Of course. He considered himself foolish for ever thinking he could get away without such a thing. "Oh, right. Uh-

'-because Eeyore, who is a friend of mine, has lost his tail. And he's Moping about it. So could you very kindly tell me how to find it for him?'"

Rosie paused again at the sound of giggling, muffled beneath the blankets as Jill lifted them to cover her mouth. "That's not the right voice," She snickered, cheeks flushing red at the hilarity of his failure. "Read a different one."

The book fell shut in his lap, and he nodded firmly, pitying Alice as she tried to ignore their chattering. "Alright. Which one do you think the voices will be good for?"

Her blankets rustled as Jill scurried out of bed, padding across the floor towards the shelf as she scoured the books, an expression of utmost seriousness furrowing her brow. After a moment of deliberation, she plucked out a new book, this one even more battered than the last, a rabbit in a blue jacket adorning its cover. On the inside page, Frankie's name was scrawled in messy, faded pencil.

"...'Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir-tree. He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit hole, and shut his eyes...'"

Before he had managed to reach the end of the book, the soft sound of little snores alerted Rosie to the fact that his audience wasn't quite listening anymore. Teddy bear tucked tight beneath her chin, cheek squished against the pillow, Jill's mouth hung open slightly as she slept, tiny snores escaping her every now and then. A soft smile curled his lips, and he let the book close, slotting both stories back into their place up on the shelf. By the time he'd turned back towards the bed, Jill had rolled over in her sleep, arm outstretched towards her sister.

"You need anything, Alice?" He whispered, soft words piercing the veil of silence. Alice smiled over at her baby sister, discarding her own book upon the nightstand.

"Nah. I'm ok. Thanks, Rosie."

The floorboards creaked beneath him as he left the room, and he tip-toed to lessen the sound as best he could. "D'you want the door left open or shut?"

"Leave it open. Jill's scared of the dark."

"Alright then. G'night."

Frankie's father had already headed upstairs by the time Rosie came down, a gentle, content quiet laying over the house. His heart was beating so hard he could hear it inside his skull as he descended the staircase, the conversation he had overheard playing over and over again in his head.

This was good - this wasn't something to be afraid of - and yet he was. He was until he reached the doorway to the living room, and Frankie was lying there, sprawled out atop the pile of cushions and blankets he had called a bed the night before, staring at the wall, at her childhood self's attempt at drawing a rainbow without half of the prerequisite colours. This house was the beating heart of who she was, an altar to every moment of her life, an archive of a younger version of her. If he could meet her here, he could meet her anywhere.

"You're in my bed."

[helena-edits-in-real-time]

I Want to Fly and Put Back All the Pieces of This Broken Heart Tonight

George narrowly escapes radiation poisoning, leaving Jack as the only volunteer to fly the nuclear bomb into the Mojave. But he won't let Jack get his death wish, so he calls in the only person he knows who can do it and live to tell the tale.

Read it here.

[thebramblewood]

Exciting news: I now have a story page and a characters page! They're pretty basic at the moment, but I'm hoping to think of some fun stuff to add later. For now, you might find a few new nuggets of insight in the character bios! I just wanted a cute little hub for readers new and old to find everything they need in one place. Let me know if you think anything (or anyone) major is missing or if you notice any errors. Here are all the character portraits. Aren't they cute? And thanks to @buglaur for the incredibly easy to modify template!

[necrotic-nephilim]

@sasheneskywalker i love when you enable me to ramble about things because oh my god do i have thoughts.

so recently, i made a post discussing the phenomena of DC x DP and DC x MLB crossovers and why they exist and part of that post was discussing how largely speaking, at least half, if not more of the Batfamily fandom doesn't read the comics. if they interact with canon DC material, it's adaptations that are their own sequestered universes and oftentimes not remotely comic accurate or seeking to be. the most obvious example is the Young Justice cartoon. i'm adding a cut to this post because it just got so long i'm so sorry.

a lot of times, when people are discussing the "why" of this oversaturation of fanon-only fandom, they blame Wayne Family Adventures. and i think, to a point, i agree WFA is responsible for a boom in this fandom. but as someone who's been in the fandom long before we had WFA, to me it's the other way around. WFA was DC's way of meeting the demand for this easy-to-get-into, easy-to-consume content about the Batfamily that predicates itself on the comics just enough to be vaguely the same characters, but has a more sitcom, slice-of-life sort of vibe so DC could profit off of this section of the fanbase that otherwise wasn't consuming its primary material. and well, it's definitely worked. not only that, but i have a weird theory that the decline in the MCU also led to the rise in the Batfamily fandom. when you consider the fan content that made the MCU popular within fandom, it's that 2012 "they all live in Avengers Tower and Thor is eating poptarts and Clint is in the vents and there are movie nights every Friday" sort of vibe. those were the fics that were a hallmark of the fandom. and as the MCU has strayed from well... quality content in general, but specifically well-thought-out crossover content where characters can have their own arcs but also exist in a wider story where they clearly care about each other, that fandom was sort of homeless. so where do you go, if you like a superhero found family where you can have villains for angst but also stick them all in one big family-like home for silly crack and have a plethora of options for gay ships? well. you go to the Batfamily. if you write a crack/fluff Batfamily genfic with silly vibes and low stakes instead of say, a fic about a very specific comic issue even if it's a popular comic, you're *going* to get more traction for the former. because the fanbase largely just isn't reading the comics.

and i feel... complicated about this. because on one hand, Don't Like Don't Read has been a tenet of my fandom experience. i'm very pro-fandom and that includes fandom content i don't like. and to an extent, i do think this sort of should apply to Batfamily fanon. i enjoy having my moments with other comic purists, giggling over exceptionally painful OOC headcanons or even facepalming in pain over some content but it is on me to not interact with that content. you don't make fandom a better place by being hostile to fans who engage with canon in ways you don't approve of. and frankly? we as comic readers are not going to get non-comic fans to read the comics by being asshats to them. no one is going to want to pick up any comic if we get a superiority complex about it. and also, i feel like we're all lying to ourselves a little bit insisting comics are so, so easy to get into. they're not. we can just all agree, they're really not. i've been single-handedly helping my sister get into comics, specifically Wonder Woman and no matter how simple i make it, i watch her get frustrated trying to understand what pre-Crisis and post-Crisis and New-52 and Flashpoint and all these things mean and what a retcon vs a reboot is and what a Crisis Event is and what the hell Diana's current backstory even *is*. sure, you can give someone a beginner list of comics to start with and slowly dip their toes in the water but sooner or later, *something* is going to confuse them. comics as a medium straight up aren't going to be everyone's cup of tea. and if someone *just* wants to read silly fluffy fanfiction about the Batfamily, i can't entirely begrudge them for not wanting to take the hours and hours out of their day to understand this medium. it's not an accessible medium to get into. "read this and this, but this run is out of print and this run wasn't collected in trades at all but also make sure you read that event in order and this is a good comic but the backstory in it is retconned and you *have* to read this it's so important but it's also really bad because the author kind of sucks" sounds. ridiculous for someone who like. just wants to read some stuff about Nightwing. sometimes, we all make reading comics sort of sound like a chore, not a hobby.

so my point is, i do extend some grace to Batfamily fanon for existing. i think my biggest gripe is, as i said in my other post, misuse of tags (if you're not creating content about comics, maybe you don't need the comics fandom tag on Ao3, just the all media types umbrella tag) and my far bigger gripe: when panels are taken out of context to support fanon only headcanons. if i could impart *anything* onto the Batfamily fandom as a comic fan it'd be this: if you haven't *read* the comic, don't spread the panel. if you don't even know what comic it's *from*, don't spread the panel. it's fine to use comic panels to discuss your headcanons, but so often i see someone spreading a comic panel from a comic they haven't read, and when asked where it's from, they can't source it. a silly example that comes to mind is a post going around, taking a panel where Dick, in his internal monologue goes "here comes the sun. do do do do." and the post is claiming it's from him getting buried alive. when that panel comes from Nightwing (1996) #140, and he gets buried alive in Nightwing (1996) #127, two completely different moments frankensteined together. if you're going to not read the comics, that's completely fine, but unless you're sure of the source and the context, panels shouldn't be spread around. i'm sick of this specifically happening to Red Robin (2009), with ppl claiming Tim has totally killed people because he blew up some of Ra's' bases, when those panels within context, make it clear he gave everyone time to escape. and in a later arc in that very comic, Tim grapples with the idea of murdering Captain Boomerang, and *specifically chooses not to*, because he doesn't agree with murder, even against the person who has hurt him the most. if you'd like to write fanfiction where Tim is pro-murder and has done some sketch things, i'm totally on board and would probably like to read it. but there's no need to pretend it's canon from a few panels you saw out of context.

beyond that, i think it's not *entirely* correct to say that fanon is harmless. whenever i see very WFA-positive posts, they often default to the argument that WFA is fun and silly, and comic fans are killjoys for not liking it. which. i think is complicated because the issue is, WFA and fanon don't exist in a vacuum. if you like WFA power to you, i don't think it's the worst thing ever, but i do think it's degrading to these characters because honestly? they feel incompetent in the webtoon. it's one thing if WFA was solely a slice-of-life sort of deal, just having silly episodes where Bruce is taking on a PTA mom or they're all fighting for the last cookie. but when WFA attempts to take on more serious plots with these characters, it *fundamentally* falls flat in understanding them. i get it, Bruce comforting Jason having a panic attack because a noise reminded him of the crowbar felt cute in a microcosm, but i'm so serious when i say that storyline destroyed how like. half of this fandom understands Jason Todd's relationship to his trauma. it doesn't understand how he reacts when he's triggered, what coping mechanisms he seeks out, and how he would handle Bruce comforting him. even if i can believe for a brief moment Jason *would* be triggered by something like that, him running and trying to hide and then getting a hug from Bruce to make it okay is just. painful. WFA needs everything to be wrapped up in a nice, neat little bow. so even when it starts to tackle interesting concepts, it makes them fall flat with its need to be soft, low stakes, hurt/comfort. there was a two-parter episode that dealt with the complicated mutual hatred/jealousy between Tim and Damian that *almost* really interested me because for once, it felt like the webtoon wanted to explore canon messy dynamics. but of course, it had to be fixed with one conversation and a hug. you don't mend the *years* of issues these characters have like that. WFA isn't in character because these characters are hyperbole cartoonified versions of themselves to fit within the medium and be a cute happy family.

because that right there, is the crux of it. the Batfamily fanon seeks to simplify the Batfamily and force them into a nuclear family. there are so many fantastic posts on here discussing how the nuclear family-ification of the Batfam is eroding decades worth of complex histories so i won't go too far into that. but what i will say is that there's this need, in the Batfamily fandom, for the Batfamily to exist as a unit. they are a *family*. (honestly i think calling it the Batfamily is a misnomer and has been for years but we're in too deep now.) they exist to each other first, and any teams or friends they have come secondary to this family unit. you can *specifically* see this demonstrated in what headcanons are becoming popular these days. i have an entire lengthy meta in my drafts about how i *loathe* the "the Batfamily meets the Justice League" genre of fanfic because it makes no *sense*. in order to have this genre of fic exist, you must operate under the assumption that no one in the League, or adjacent to the League, knows the Batfamily exists and are thus utterly shocked to discover Batman has kids. and to make *that* work, you have to strip *every single Batfamily member* of such important dynamics and friendships so you can lock them all in Gotham for their whole lives. Dick can't have the Titans, Tim can't have Young Justice, Duke & Cass can't have the Outsiders, Jason can't have the Outlaws, Damian can't have the Supersons, Babs can't have the Birds of Prey, and so on. because if they had these relationships, they would be known to the League. the Batfamily fandom doesn't care about this, it's just "silly fanfiction", it's not trying to be serious. but how can you say you like Dick Grayson as a character if you don't understand the Titans *are* his family? at some points of his life, moreso than the Batfamily even is. it is constantly repeated to us in most comics with Dick how much the Titans mean to him. he *needs* them to be who he is. the same extends to every other Batfamily member, most of which have been full League members at this point. but in fanon, that doesn't matter. the Batfamily are a sequestered unit first, and all of those side relationships are secondary and easy to toss away, if it makes your fanfic work better.

and because they have to be a unit first, you have these forced relationships that dump years of actual canon material for the sake of making them get along. the Batfamily fandom has its favorites and well. it's no secret it's usually the boys. Jason and Tim by *far* stand out as fandom faves so, their dynamic is a heavily explored one. it does matter that in canon they don't tend to get along and especially don't see each other as family. what matters is that you can push dynamics onto them. and so fanon gets all twisted up about which Robin Tim actually idolized as a kid (Dick) and what member of the Batfamily is pro-murder but still an older sibling figure to him and looks out for him (Helena, or if you want the dynamic of once tried to harm Tim but they've reconciled, Jean-Paul) in favor of who's the most popular. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian are always going to be the standouts for popularity, but it's specifically Jason and Tim who are getting fanonized the most. and that's because really, we don't have much canon content of Tim that *isn't* the comics. for Dick you've got Young Justice (tv), for Damian you've got the DCAMU, for Jason you've sort of got the Under The Red Hood movie, but Tim sort of lingers in this limbo. (yes, he's in Young Justce (tv) and Titans (live action) but in neither is he the main character nor given much depth) so, he gets a *lot* projected onto him and has become fanonized. and even with Jason's animated movies, you don't see him interact with Tim, so people build it from the ground up how they want to see it, disregarding of canon comics. i think it's what makes him so popular in the first place- he's malleable into whatever you want or need him to be.

and of course, the fanon ignores other characters in the Batfamily it doesn't know about. i feel like you could create a tier list of Batfamily characters by their popularity, going from the fandom main characters: Tim, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Damian. to the underrated: Steph, Duke, Babs, Cass. to the forgotten about unless they're convenient for a story: Kate, the Foxes, Helena Wayne, Carrie, Selina, Harper Row, Maps, Minhkhoa Khan. to the absolutely unknown: Helena Bertinelli, Jean-Paul Valley, Onyx Adams, the Clovers, Julia Pennyworth. it's not lost on me that the ignored characters tend to be women and people of color. which is both a canon and fanon problem, DC will continue adding interesting characters to the Batfamily, play with them for a few years, then drop them to default to the "Batboys" again. and it's a vicious cycle of the fandom only caring about the "Batboys", and thus people entering the fandom via fanon osmosis won't have content about the other characters, therefore, they won't be interested in those characters enough to create it, and it's just this ouroboros consuming itself, no matter how much canon content we have of these other characters. and it's ridiculous just how large the Batfamily is becoming because of this, which is why i'm a pre-Flashpoint fan, because then the Batfamily was contained enough to actually feel like a family with every character having nuances relationships with each other, but i digress because those thoughts could be their own post.

and the thing about fanon is it doesn't exist in a vacuum. DC has started turning the comics to accommodate for what fans are asking for, because fans will beg and beg for content they're not going to consume. Tim Drake: Robin had Tim as a coffee drinker because that's the fanon accepted headcanon. and the resolution of the recent Gotham War arc was for Bruce to buy this new manor for everyone to move in and call him. nevermind that most of these characters have their own homes and have zero reason to be moving in with Bruce. Tim had his marina in Tim Drake: Robin, Dick has Bludhaven, Cass and Steph have their little side of town in Batgirls (2022), and so on. these characters are being forced together as a unit, as one big happy family living together, to appease what non-comic fans want and it's damaging comic relationships. Robin: Knight Terrors saw Jason and Tim team up and working together, which i've seen varying opinions on but i personally despised. their interactions made zero sense for any of their canon history, but it appeases them being this close sibling relationship that fanon acts like they are. also the fears they faced in their respective knight terrors didn't make sense for either character and *only* worked as a moment of bringing them together so they could reassure each other and have this weird dreamscape bonding moment. the canon is bending itself to the will of fanon rather than building on the pre-existing complex relationships. Tim barely even gets along with his most important team in Dark Crisis: Young Justice because it seems the only important relationships the Batfamily can have is with each other. and when we do see them outside of the Batfamily, it only seems to be to relive the glory days like with World's Finest: Teen Titans, instead of developing them as they currently exist. this isn't recent in the comics, it feels like you can trace it back to the New-52, but it does feel a *lot* worse over the recent years. WFA is fine when it exists in its own bubble, but the simple truth is, DC content never exists on its own. the adaptations will reflect back onto the comics. (the damage the Young Justice cartoon has done to some characters should honestly be studied) and so it does frustrate me a bit when fanon-only or adaptation-only fans act like we're being nothing but killjoys for being frustrated with this. since they don't read the comics, they don't see how the comics are suffering as a result of this.

people argue about what's out of character for the comics they don't even read. i'm sorry, but "bad dad Bruce" is consistently canon. that man is just kind of shitty. when you take someone who has the drive he has, who has this need for the Mission first, who needs a teenager in spandex next to him to keep him off the ledge, that guy is sort of going to be a shitty father figure. he just is. not on purpose or with malice, but when you compare him to any other dad in a big DC family, he sure takes the cake. it's why characters like Oliver Queen tend to *really* fucking hate Bruce for how he treats his kids. Bruce loves fiercely, but he doesn't do well with putting that love first. and his love is a controlling one, he is very particular about controlling how others in the Batfamily are "allowed" to operate. it's what drives the wedge between him and Dick, it's why Steph is never a true daughter to him. (besides the reason of her needing to be a love interest to Tim first, anyway-) i've never understood the massive outcry of people reacting to Bruce kinda being shitty in comics they're not reading. there are some moments that get ridiculously OOC with how cartoonishly evil he is (the whole Gotham War arc and that... complicated mess with Jason) but largely if you want sitcom loving nuclear father Bruce, you have to accept that is a fanon thing, not a canon one. the Batfamily being a nuclear family in *general* is fanon. most of the "Batkids" don't actually see Bruce in a particularly fatherly light and begging for moments where he calls them his kids or they call him dad outside of incredibly specific circumstances is just OOC.

it's getting harder and harder to exist peacefully in this fandom it feels like, if you don't comply to the standard fanon has set. i'm happy people are having fun with their blorbos, even if in ways i dislike, but that "harmless fandom fun" does ripple it's way back to canon, eventually. so i end up pretty tangled with my feelings because are fans at fault for DC making these poor decisions? probably not, but it certainly feels like an unfortunate cause-and-effect situation whether at the end of the day, nobody is happy. and of course, i know some fanon-only fans are striving to be more canon accurate and care about canon dynamics more than others, but for them it's always going to be an uphill battle with the above-mentioned out-of-context panels thrown around and ever-pervasive fanon overtaking anything that's truly seeking to be canon compliant. so really, it sometimes feels like we're all losing.