#i think that what matters in the end is that the feelings are there

[samkerrworshipper]

so win.

alexia putellas x reader

no fuel quite like my procrastination to not do other things i need to do. this is porn without plot, i’m not ashamed of it. it’s also unedited and has been worked on after a day of clinicals so if there are spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes i apologise. i wrote this in like 3 hours lol. i’m also a mess at the moment and actually avoiding my whole life so this is my outlet. anyways i wrote smut! for the first time in forever ;) also for the sake of this let’s ignore timezones bcus i couldn’t rewrite the start of this to make it work lol.

warnings: smut, 18+ viewer discretion advised

You’re not with Alexia when the campaign drops. You’re not even watching the game, you’ve never been quite able to wrap your head around the nfl thing or get into like your girlfriend, the rules of rugby have been so ingrained in your mind from childhood that seeing men run around in massive pads just gives you an ick.

You’re not even the person who sees it first, you’re sitting in a cafe trying to get some studying done because it’s impossible to do at home when your clingy girlfriend insists on sitting, holding, grabbing or clinging onto any part of your body when she’s bored. It’s like trying to keep a five year old entertained, and it always ends up with you sacrificing whatever coursework you have and being endlessly stressed when you fall behind. You simply leave studying for when Alexia is out of the house or when you have time to study elsewhere.

You’re heavily engrossed in rewatching a lecture you’d missed the previous week due to training when your phone lights up. It’s no exaggeration, your phone screen goes from being blank and dark to suddenly notification after notification pouring in. Different groupchats, instagram tags, text messages. There’s another ten minutes left on your study clock before you’re technically allowed to take a break but with every thing that pops up your only become more curious. Curious enough that you look down at your clock with complete disregard and reach for your phone. It’s sitting next to your laptop, it’s supposed to be upside down to minimise distraction but when you were watching the lecture it stopped you from being able to check the time and you liked to watch as the time ticked by.

You click onto you groupchat first, a mixture of Barca girls, mostly the older ones. Most importantly Mapi, who has bombarded the groupchat in a matter of seconds, with image after image of your girlfriend.

You click onto them harmlessly, Alexia has a series of campaigns that you’re aware of that are coming out in the next few months. As you’re waiting for the images to load you try and remember if she’d told you about any coming up, there was something for Cupra at the end of february and a big campaign for more than eleven in march, and a few smaller things amongst it but nothing you could think of that was due to release today, or in the next week.

When the first image loads, you’re eyes almost bug out. Your throat closes, the oxygen leaves your lungs and you feel almost dizzy. You have to blink multiple times to clarify that what you’re looking at is real, it’s not just a hallucination of some wet dream you’ve had, it’s a real photo that exists in front of you. As you flick through them, you only feel more unwell, and a little bit wet… or a lot.

The first one is just Alexia’s face, staring straight down the lense. The way she’s been captured is almost animalistic, pink sports bra, big earrings, her hair in the wet look. It’s her eyes though, pointed straight on, the eye fuck look, like she’s staring into your soul the same way she does before she’s about to rail you, except it’s all magically been captured in one photo. You want to look at it forever, you’re scared you’ve actually lost the ability to use your extremities and all the oxygen has stopped circulating inside your body from the mix of shock and awe.

With as much power you have you flick to the next photo, and if you were already feeling unwell this feeling is close to death.

Alexia, looking over her shoulder, flexing.

All of her tattoos are on show, every single muscle is accentuated and you almost drool on your phone as you study all of the different parts of the picture. Alexia’s skin is literally glowing, effervescently in a way you cannot even begin to describe. You know from thousands of hours of tracing the skin of your girlfriends back just how strong she is, yet with everything emphasised more in the photo you feel like no matter how many hours you’ve spent staring this is adding a whole new perspective. Her arms, her facial expressions, the illusion of her hair sticking to her skin, the pink contrast against her skin.

You have to scroll, because if you don’t you won’t be responsible for the actions you engage in whilst in a very public space.

The following few pictures are of other athletes, basketball players, gymnasts, runners, other football players. For the most part, americans, yet your girlfriend in all her glory is a part of it.

You get through quite a few photos before it comes to the video, you were already gobsmacked, but the video seals it for you.

Alexia looks flawless, absolutely ethereal in every way. It actually feels like you are living in one of your fantasies or dreams but no this is very much real life and you are actually dating the person on your screen.

There’s no chance you’re going to get any work done, you can’t even get a coherent thought that doesn’t involve Alexia. Alexia’s abs, Alexia’s back, Alexia’s eyes, Alexia’s face, Alexia. You pack up your books and laptop with one thought on your mind, seeing your girlfriend.

Mapi’s private messages to you are filthy, message after message of her reminding your of what is now out in the world and about how now even more people are going to be even more obsessed with her.

You drive home over the speed limit and slightly recklessly, it’s not a long drive from your favourite study spot to you and Alexia’s shared house, but it feels like it drags on for forever. Your knuckles are white from your tight grip on the steering wheel and your unoccupied foot is bounding furiously against your floormat. You run a couple of close yellows, which are mostly red and have a complete disregard for giving way to anybody. You have an end goal, and that goal is to get home before you combust from all of the built up energy and tension in your body from the reruns of the pictures you’d seen.

You’re not even sure if you put the car in park when you swing into the driveway, you practically sprint towards the door, leaving Alexia’s prized cupra to fend for itself. Your hand is so sweaty you struggle with the door knob for a few seconds, your brain is frantic and you struggle and jiggle with it until it finally turns and there is nothing between you and finding exactly what you’re looking for.

Alexia isn’t in the front room, not that she normally would be. You pace your way through the hallway, past your bedroom which seems unoccupied and into the living room.

Alexia.

Alexia is sitting, on your couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, though it’s hard to appreciate it with the shit eating grin on her face as she tries to make herself look comfortable and like she’s actually lounging on your couch. Her body is tense, it gives away her whole bravado, you don’t really care though.

“You’re home early? You said you wouldn’t be back till lunch time, no?”

There is no acknowledging of her comment, you take your jacket off and lay it on the edge of the couch before unceremoniously pouncing on your girlfriend.

“I cannot believe you.”

Alexia makes it easy enough for you to straddle her lap, opening up her legs and making plenty of room for you.

You stare into her eyes and all you can picture is the photo of her, the look on her face isn’t dissimilar to the one captured, but it’s not quite the same.

“The campaign? Did I not mention it?”

You roll your eyes before leaning down, alexia goes with ease, her mouth opening up for you as soon as your lips meet hers. It’s all teeth and tongue, not quite a fight for dominance, just pure arousal.

“You’re a brat, and really fucking sexy.”

Alexia smirks against your lips, and then she bites back, her tongue fighting against yours.

“So you like it?”

You move your lips to Alexia’s neck, licking a line down her neck and kissing up it before biting down, foregoing any kind of gentle.

“Do I like my girlfriend looking extremely fuckable on the internet? Jury’s still out on that one.”

Alexia chuckles, leaning her head back to give you full access to her neck.

“Mm, muy fuckable.”

The laugh that leaves her mouth is enough fuel for you to nip her again, sucking a mark right above her collar bone, not directly visible but enough to make her sweat about keeping it hidden at training tomorrow.

“I’m going to need a private show in that outfit at some stage.”

You move back up to Alexia’s mouth, this time the make out is less frantic, you’ve gotten out some of your residual jitters.

“That can always be arranged.”

You tug at the hem of Alexia’s sleep shirt that she still hasn’t gotten out of yet.

“Bed first, fashion show after.”

In the swiftest motion possible Alexia is bringing herself up onto her feet, and lifting you with her. You wrap your legs around her torso, never breaking the makeout.

She makes it to your bedroom at a record speed, dumping you onto the mattress before climbing back on top of you, her shirt being thrown haphazardly into the air somewhere as she lowers herself down. There’s no bra to fight with and you reach for her breasts before her lips are back on you, grabbing and rolling at her nipples until she gets the message and has climbed fully onto the mattress on top of you.

Alexia stays on top of you, making out for a while, until she get’s bored with her hands and decides that you need to mirror her level of undressed. She flips you on top with so much ease that it doesn’t even surprise you, the photos on the internet showed Alexia’s muscles, but they didn’t show just how strong your girlfriend truly was.

Alexia didn’t mess around with your tank top and bra, tugging them off with the same kind of urgency that you’d been in to get back to the house earlier. As soon as the clothes are gone you’re flipped back onto the mattress, Alexia retaking her position. Her hands go straight to your tits, pinching and pulling in a way that makes your back nearly arch off the bed. You’re already aroused from your session in the coffee shop, but this is only adding fuel to the fire.

It takes everything in you not to moan immediately, you clench your jaw and bite your lip as Alexia elicits all different kinds of sensations.

‘Sé ruidoso bebita.”

As per usual, not much gets past Alexia, you try to relax just slightly, let yourself feel it all completely.

“How wet are you going to be when I finally touch your pussy, hm? How wet did my photos get you? All hot and bothered in the coffee shop like a little slut.”

There is no point in shaking your head, you just smirk, you’re proud of it, you’re proud that you get to come home to this and everyone else just has to enjoy Alexia from a far.

“Show me, reach into your panties and show me how wet you are and maybe I’ll think about touching you.”

You hesitate for a second, but then Alexia pinches on of your nipples and rolls your other breast in her hand and your hand naturally moves downwards, your hips canting up as you do so.

Your fingertips are glistening and dripping as you bring them out of your shorts, Alexia doesn’t hesitate to pull them straight into her mouth, sucking all of your arousal straight off.

“Alexia, please.”

Alexia licks her lips in a way that makes you so certain that she’s desperate for more, she’s just as turned on about this as you are.

“Pants off.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth your reaching for them hem of your pants and kicking them off, your panties go with them.

Alexia doesn’t wait, she moves her body downwards until her mouth is hovering right above you.

She looks up at you, hesitates for a second, it’s the exact same face as the photo, beautifully feral.

She doesn’t hold back whatsoever, her mouth goes straight to your clit and you’re already aroused, already dripping everywhere but you reach another level. Your moans are breathy and free falling.

“Fuck baby, feels so good.”

You’re a stuttering mess and far too aroused to try and pretend like you aren’t already close.

Alexia keeps a steady pace, licking and sucking at your clit and occasionally living long strips up from your pussy. It feels so good, earth shattering good.

“Ale, close.”

You expect her to pull back a little bit, normally she likes to prolong your pleasure just a little bit, the wait is worth the reward. But it seems like the both of you are too aroused to ignore the urgency of the situation. Alexia doubles down, her arms pushing your thighs further apart and reaching up behind you to grab at your ass whilst she enjoys having more access.

When you realise she isn’t going to let up you unclench your hands from the sheets and push them into Alexia’s hair, grabbing at the root and pushing her exactly where you want, grinding down against her chin.

It doesn’t take long at all, alread close as it was. Then Alexia grazes her teeth over your clit and doubles down and you see stars. Your body goes with you, shaking and tensing before relaxing as your enjoy the aftershocks. Alexia takes the opportunity, pushing two fingers into you and setting a brutal pace.

“Alexia, need a second.”

Alexia doesn’t stop, if anything she only goes harder, her fingers searching for your g-spot and finding it with ease. The overstimulation makes your stomach tight and yoru clit ache, in the best way.

“Una mas.”

You shake your head, even though it’s blatantly clear you’re going to give her another one, there isn’t really a world where you wouldn’t, not when Alexia makes it so easy to feel so good.

“You can give me one more bebita.”

Alexia’s palm grinds against your clit gloriously, it’s a bit too much for a few seconds but it fades as the pleasure overtakes.

Alexia’s favourite activity is amking you fall apart, watching you experience a kind of pleasure that is unmatchable, all at her own hands. Alexia adds a third finger, knowing that it’ll give you what you need.

It’s more than enough for what you need to reach a release. This time the initial orgasm lasts longer, you tense for a few seconds before you go boneless on the mattress. You melt into the sheets, your head lulling against the pillow as you breathe your way through.

Once you’ve stopped clenching against Alexia she pulls her fingers out, licking up every part of your orgasm, not leaving a single drop behind.

She crawls her way up to you, lying down on her side next to you, looking at the blissed out expression on your face.

Your eyes open lazily, a big smile on your face.

“You’re unreal, literally, how did I get this lucky?”

Alexia leans in, it would be rude to not kiss your lips at every possible chance, especially when your smiling at her like that.

“The real question is how I got this lucky.”

It the same kind of phrase that would elicit vomiting noises from your teammates in the locker room, and yet you love it all the same.

The kiss is soft, everything you need in the moment. It gives you enough confidence to reach your hands down inbetween the two of you, pressing down against Alexia’s front with one intention.

Alexia gasps into your mouth, and it’s enough guidance for you.

You walk your fingers up to the waistband of her pyjama shorts that she still hasn’t changed out of at nearly midday. You trail them down on the inside, unsurprised at her lack of underwear.

Alexia’s wet, the cotton of her shorts sticking to the insides of her thighs.

You part her folds, enjoying the way she moans and gasps into your mouth as you map your way through a different part of her body.

When your fingers find her clit, it’s easy to tell just how turned on she is.

You set a pace of fast tight circles, you’re well educated on Alexia’s body and when she’s this worked up this is the best way to get her to an orgasm.

You know she’s getting closer when her kisses get sloppier and desperate, her lips hang onto yours like they’re becoming an extension of her, like she’s scared that if you separate it’ll take part of her with her.

She shakes and grinds into you, searching for that last bit of stimulation she needs. When she infds it she groans into your mouth, her hips jerking one final time before they go weak, her body goes still for a few seconds. You slow down but don’t come to a full stop, pulling every last bit of her orgasm out for her until she’s tugging your hand out of her shorts.

Alexia presses some soft kisses to your lips before pulling you into her with one arm.

“If that’s what I get every time I take some nice pictures, maybe I should do it a bit more. See if I can get a job with Victoria’s secret or a swimsuit company.”

Alexia doesn’t need to see the look on your face to know exactly how all of your features would clenhc up and your eyes would roll.

“If you do that there will be a whole lot less sex for you and a whole lot more sessions with my vibrator for me. You’re cute, but I’d like to keep some of it for me.”

Alexia snorts, before tugging you in tighter.

“The fans would like it so much though, maybe I should just post some of the photos from the beach over the summer in Ibiza, the topless ones were cute.”

You elbow Alexia straight in the gut.

“How about you model the nike outfits for me first, and then we can decide how far you can take your new found modelling career.”

You’re still in slight disbelief that Alexia managed to keep something this big from you. She was obviously always having ongoing things going with nike, but something this big, and this special was hard to keep underwraps.

“I looked that good, huh?”

You roll even further into Alexia, pressing your whole body into hers.

“Muy bueno. New additions to the wank bank right there.”

You snort when you look over your shoulder and see the confusion on Alexia’s face, her english is good, but her english slang lacks in certain departments.

“Wank bank?”

You snort again, the innocence behind her voice makes it so much better.

“Just my folder for when I’m very alone on camp, and need some extra assistance.”

Alexia’s brain clicks, she laughs, and then the meaning must click in because she blushes beet red.

You stand up, already searching for your forgotten articles of clothing.

“Wait a minute, wank bank? What else is in this folder?”

You’re already tugging your pants on and trying to find your tank top which had apparently vanished into thin air.

“Hopefully whatever new photos I can find in the album of spares that was left over from this shoot.”

Before you can hear what else Alexia says you’re racing off in search of her laptop.

“Wait, I need to see this folder. Bebita, I need my own folder. WHAT IS IN THIS FOLDER.”

—————-

anyways have a wonderful day/night! i love you! somebody out there loves you! you are blessed to have this day and every other one to come <3

[kianamaiart]

how do you feel about people who aren't of the same race as that character voicing that character? Also since you work in the cartoon industry and have gone through the voice acting hiring process yourself, is there some sort of code that says its discrimination if you say "only people who fit into this group/all these groups should apply"? (asking this in good faith i hope it is clear. This is really hard to phrase. To make where I'm coming from more clear, while I doubt i would ever get the chance to do what you're doing, if this one comic I make was ever turned into a cartoon, its very important to me for example that the main character who is a non-binary Chinese-American Jew be portrayed by someone as close to that identity as possible. Because to me, there are limited chances for some people to portray themselves wholly on the screen, let alone at all, and to take that opportunity away would be wrong. And I just remember as a(n older) kid it made me even happier when i'd find out people voicing the rare characters who share parts of my identity actually WERE of that identity. But on the other hand, putting more and more restrictions means less and less people can audition and there is such a small chance the perfect person will even find the role. And also I'm not sure if this counts as discrimination in hiring legal code.

it's tricky for sure! in a perfect world, it shouldn't matter, but there's a history of marginalized people being, well, marginalized and denied work for usually white voice actors who can do an impression.

i think there should be a push to get more marginalized voice actors to voice characters like them but also characters that aren't! let actors be actors

You're right in that the more specific the identity, the smaller the pool of actors. and in that case, i think it's good to put in the effort to find people who identify with the role as closely as possible, even if it's not 100%. aika's black/japanese ethnicity, for example, is based off of my own heritage but she's played by anairis quinones, a black/puerto rican voice actor. i felt comfortable casting this way because i feel like at least on my end, i can write aika accurate to my own experience and make sure anything having to do with her identity is handled with care. and i very much trust anairis to understand! and although they're not japanese, they do have an understanding of what it means to be black and queer, which aika also is.

it's a case by case thing for sure but i'm always down to uplift marginalized actors!

[soleilapproves]

Can I make a request for a pregnant y/n? Like jjk men and y/n get to the hospital when she goes into labor and they’re only expecting one baby but she ends up having twins? I’d love to know their reactions 😭🩷

Girl, realistically, I don’t think that’s possible with ultrasounds and stuff.

BUT, for the sake of the fic, let’s just say that you’re in a time period where ultrasounds don’t exist and physicians rely on taking your pulse or something to see if you’re pregnant or not.

cw: pregnancy, small descriptions of birth

Nanami is always a level headed and cool man. So when you popped out two kids instead of one, he had the most calm expression ever, only stroking your cheek and cooing in your ears about how well you did. Unbeknownst to you, he’s trying his best not to rip his own hair out. The house was only ready for one baby—one nursery, one nanny, one chest of clothes. Now he was going to have work just as hard to set up the same for another baby in a very short time. You don’t notice his hand trembling when the midwife tells him that there’s another kid in the equation, his main focus would probably be on making sure you’re feeling better considering that you’re in the most overwhelming phase of being a new mom. All in all, I think he’d be very scared, but he’d face this change head on and would try his best to be a good dad to both his kids (all while freaking out on the inside.)

Gojo would be elated! Double the trouble. While you’re in pain, moaning and crying while pushing out the afterbirth, Gojo is already giggling over his new children, both annoyingly being the spitting images of their father. The nurse would probably yell at him to settle down because he’s being a nuisance and send him out for being annoying, not gonna lie. But who can blame him? He’s just so excited to take both his babies home and shower them with all the love and attention in the world. There’s no doubt that you’re nervous and scared after birthing twins, you aren’t even sure how you’ll nurse them or give them attention at the same time, and seeing this, Gojo vows to make your life easier with the babies. The nannies would often complain that Gojo leaves them no work because he’s always enthusiastic to look after his little ones.

Out of all the JJK men, I think Toji would have the worst reaction. He would be freaking the fuck out and would not be shy about it. He’d be clutching on to your hand to prevent himself from fainting after the midwife yells that there’s another one coming. It’s not that he exhibits weaponized incompetency, he’s just genuinely scared of messing up twice the amount now. He’d definitely be insecure throughout the first month though, wondering if he’s even blessed enough to deserve two little angels and a lovely wife. But that doesn’t stop him from trying his best. He makes a LOT of mistakes, but he’s always ready to learn, albeit, he’s a sloppy student, but he tries and that’s what matters. The kids also say dad first so he feels like he did something right after all.

Geto is a certified twin dad. It was on his resume when he started dating you. He is not scared, and is in dad mode the second you both find that you’re carrying. So imagine his delight when there’s two babies instead of one in the cradle, both looking like they’re the most precious things on Earth. Very overprotective, especially two times as much since his babies are so beautiful, he would not let anyone in a three feet radius of his children during the first month and it took a lot of convincing to let him loose and decrease the requirement to two feet. They’re the apples of his eye and so are you. He’s surprisingly good at dividing his attention well so nobody feels excluded. He made you feel safe and secure since the beginning, constantly reassuring you that raising twins is light work. You wouldn’t know if you’d still have your sanity if he was not the father of your children.

Sukuna makes you want to smack his face while giving birth. While you’re there, having the most uncomfortable and painful time, Sukuna is laughing to himself while holding both his babies to his chest, all four arms supporting them. He begins to yell about how he has two heirs now and the midwife smacks the back of his head so he’ll quiet down. Too bad he can’t kill her because she helped deliver his tiny demons. He had already started imagining what he’d teach the kid when he found out that you were pregnant, but now that there’s two kids there’s going to be twice the fun. He imagines teaching both his kiddos how to fight, maybe if they have too much energy and are annoying him then he’ll make them spar with each other. He laughs to himself menacingly and you try not to worry about what the man is planning. He also does not clean dirty diapers and does not make you do any of that either. Will probably force you away from the kids if he has to because the poor servants can handle it. He just wants to you to remember the fun parts of parenthood.

[spacegyaru]

DON'T LOOK AT IT! PT. 3

your phone got lost for some reasons. the following day, the sex tape you made with your boyfriend (rin, isagi, chigiri) was all around the internet. how would they react?

cw: r18+, mdni! mentions of sex tape and implied sex. humiliation. mirror sex on chigiri’s part + angst. somewhat angst and comfort. a little bit toxic from rin’s part!

a/n: this is the last part!! unfortunately, i don’t have that much energy to continue this series further and might start writing for another idea 😭🥺i hope u guys understand!!

masterlist | part 1 (shidou, kaiser, bachira, & sae) | part 2 (reo, nagi, hiyori, otoya, and yukimiya)

rin itoshi:

sorry to tell you guys, but his gf has to be a little bratty and naughty enough to provoke him into making a sex tape. i imagine him doing it out of jealousy, he wanna make you moan his name loud while he takes you all-fours and biting your neck a little bit. all after seeing how isagi was being a little bit too friendly towards you.

and that's exactly what people saw on the video. you remember your phone being pickpocketed while you were out for a shopping. when it got lost, rin scolded you a little bit, and reminding you of the video you guys made. you were the one who insisted that he shouldn’t think too much cuz ya boi was overthinking. but his hunches and gut feeling prevailed. the next few days, your name was all over the news.

rin’s team worked on the damage control. he was hesitant to post a public apology, but he did anyways. unlike his brother who has a ‘idgaf’ attitude, rin cares a lot; he cares a lot about his image and your image too. it’s just plainly embarrassing for him.

when you started isolating yourself due to the humiliation you were going thru, rin tried to comfort you.he was never good with words and may have appeared harsh the way he said it, but you knew what he truly meant. you gave him a hug and a kiss due to his attempt to comfort you.

“babe, i know how much you hated it whenever i say ‘i told you so’ so i’ll try not to make you feel worse. but try not to worry about what other people say. don’t check your phone too much. it doesn't matter what they think. what matters most is what we think of each other .”

yoichi isagi:

fuck, even i am wondering. how did this guy have a sex tape? well, it was your idea, but you didn’t think that your bf, isagi, would be super into it. both of you ended up making two-three sex tapes together. at first, it was embarrassing for him. but then once he’s inside you, he gets all pussy drunk and hell breaks. all that can be heard in the background was the loud bed creaks, along with your moans and his groans. your legs are all over the place, while he held your thighs. the lights were a bit dim, but both of your faces were visible.

the following week, you lost your phone while you were sightseeing all alone. you didn’t think that much of it. but the following day, that very same video you created with isagi, was all over the internet. both of your names were mentioned in twitter and apparently, he was placed in trending.

although isagi was very much embarrassed by what happened, he never blamed you for it. he asked his team to focus on the damage control while he released a public apology, addressing what happened. he explained that you lost your phone while on a trip, and are now taking the proper measures to track whoever did spread the video. isagi couldn’t stop apologizing. everyone knew how harsh he speaks whenever he’s at football matches but this time, he seemed like a dorky apologetic machine.

when isagi realized how humiliated you seemed to be, he immediately prepared a romantic dinner for the both of you, buying some wine and steak for the both of you to enjoy. he also bought a bouquet of flowers for you. then he rented a private ship for the both of you, so you could spend time together and get things off your head for a while.

“love, you don’t have to blamed yourself for what happened, you know? sometimes, there are just things that are out of our control and this happens to be one of them. let’s get this off your mind for now, okay?”

hyoma chigiri:

okay so if you wanna do anything new with this guy, you should initiate it because he’s very much of a vanilla. that’s how you ended up having a sex tape with him. the crazy thing is, he was the one holding the camera. you were riding him in a cowgirl position, your ass was bouncing as you went up and down on him. your room was surrounded by mirrors, so chigiri was recording your reflection. his hands were shaking as he was feeling too much pleasure from your pussy. so far, he was able to record almost everything, but he ended up dropping the phone when he orgasmed.

one day, you lost your phone after a long day at work, but then again, you didn’t think anything of it. you just thought of buying a new one instead. but then few days later, you suddenly see your boyfriend’s name on twitter’s trending. when you clicked the link, that exact mirror sex videos were all over the internet. you just sighed upon seeing those. you never expected them to reach online but here they are.

given the situation, you didn’t even have that much space to comfort yourself because you just saw how down and embarrassed your boyfriend looked. he was able to release a public statement, and his pr team did the damage control. but he was so affected by people’s comments about his masculinity. well, the question about this didn’t really matter to him, but what affected him the most is how people would say how ‘hot’ you are and that you deserve someone more dominating and masculine. he was more affected on what people say about you, rather than what people say about him.

so your night with him ended up being a comfort-fest. both of you lay on the bed with hands holding together while you reassure him that what other people said isn’t true. that you only need him to satisfy you and no one else. you thought your night would be sweet and peaceful. until your small cuddle moment turned into a heated making-out session with chigiri hovering on top of you.

“babe, i love how hot you are whenever you're on top of me. i love how your body bounces and tell me how you make me feel good. but what about let me do the work tonight? i'll let you feel every part of me while i dominate you.”

[ofbatsandballads]

Yay! I’m so glad you take requests. Feel free to decide if you want to write this or not, it’s fine either way :)

So, I was thinking about Jason dating civilian!reader, and her coming home all disheveled and horrified. Since she knows about him being Red Hood, she can confide in him. She had just killed someone for the first time, whether it was an accident, self defense or whatever, you decide.

I was just wondering how Jason would handle this situation since usually he’s the one doing the killing.

Thank you <3

oh, this is amazing food for thought. I actually think he’d be the very best person to come to in such a situation because he has experience with killing. who’s gonna understand you better than him? literally nobody. had something similar to this in my drafts but now my mind is whirling in a whole host of directions. excellent prompt, nonnie!

jason todd x f!reader. warnings include graphic depictions of violence and killing (in self defense), attempted and failed sexual assault, the aftermath of both events (reader’s in shock), hurt/comfort. this one’s got heavier subject matter so please do mind the warnings, folks. i did way too much research of the Gotham Knights map for this, but it’s my favorite depiction of the city so so be it. also reader and Jason live in the Belfry bc i said so (personal hc that i may or may not elaborate on some time). and one last thing! the romanized Arabic at the end is “حياتي ” which translates to “my life”. I love the idea that Jason picked up Arabic terms of endearment from Talia calling Bruce just about every one she could.

Jason wakes up to soft afternoon sunlight shining on his face. He grumbles out a gravelly hum and scrunches up his face in protest against being awakened when he was sleeping so nicely. He reaches out to find the comforting warmth of his beloved beside him, to pull you in and bury his face into your hair so he can hide from the morning for a bit longer.

All he finds are cold sheets and an empty pillow.

He bolts upright. Something’s wrong. You never, never wake up before him. He doesn’t even register the way that the sudden abundance of light stings his eyes. He takes stock of his surroundings, his training executing on autopilot. The open layout of the Belfry lets him get his bearings in seconds. He doesn’t see you anywhere from the bird’s eye view of your loft bedroom. There’s no smell of food in the kitchen nor any mess that would indicate you’d been working in there. The living room space, fully visible below, is empty too. The only enclosed space in your home, the bathroom that’s just around the corner from your bedroom, is dead quiet. No running water, no sweet singing, no familiar coughing from swallowed toothpaste. And without so much as leaving your bed, Jason’s already come to a conclusion that sends his heart pounding and dries his throat. You’re not here.

He’s up and grabbing the 9mm taped under your bedside table in the span of a few breaths. He moves through your home methodically, like he’s clearing one of Gotham’s criminal hideouts. There’s no sign of a struggle. Nothing’s been disturbed. He’s not surprised by this—barring Wayne Manor, the Belfry is the most secure building in Gotham. That’s precisely why Jason had moved you both here once you decided to live together. He checks the coffee table and sees that your phone and wallet are gone. A different type of fear takes over now. One that makes his heart ache. What if you’ve finally had enough, finally seen that he’s not good enough for you, not worth sticking around for? It makes him sick. He swallows hard and tries to clear the blistering thought from his head. No, that’s not you. You’re not cruel. You’re kind and gentle and loving. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. And you wouldn’t hurt him.

The sight of gears turning in his periphery catches his attention. He sees the cables pulling and the security panel go green, and he’s running to the elevator doors damn near ready to pry them open. He hastily tucks the 9mm into the waistband of his pajama pants, easily within reach if he needs it. Relief floods him when the huge metal doors grind open and he sees your pretty face on the other side. Then his heart drops when he realizes that that pretty face is scraped and splattered with blood.

Your hair is tangled and wet, dripping dirty water down your neck and staining the bright red of his your favorite hoodie. Your hands, which shake as they reach blindly towards him, are stained crimson and battered too. But it’s your eyes that haunt him. You look broken.

“Jay,” you croak out, unable to summon anything but a plea for the one person who can keep you safe.

The tears fall from your eyes at the same time that you collapse into Jason’s arms. He drags you inside and locks down the Belfry. Jason wants to panic but feels a strange sense of calm about himself. As loathe as he’d be to admit it, he finds himself falling into Bruce’s habit of assessment and action.

“Baby, what happened?” he asks, voice steady and assured.

You don’t even hear him. You’re digging your hands into his shirt, clinging on to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth. He may very well be. He feels you going rigid and cold and he knows he has to get you stable before you descend further into shock.

“Listen to me,” he says firmly, adding on and enunciating your name for emphasis.

That sparks some semblance of lucidity. Jason hasn’t called you by your name in months, much preferring you be his baby or his sweetheart or his doll, or simply his. If it jars you back to reality, so be it.

“I need you to tell me what happened,” he demands gently.

It all pours out of you like a flood.

You’d woken up early by chance this afternoon. Normally you’d just close your eyes and snuggle closer to Jason to catch a couple more hours of sleep, but you wanted to do something nice for him. So you’d gotten up and gone to Lemay’s Flower Emporium in Gotham Heights. You’d bought him the prettiest bouquet of red and pink roses, so big that you had to hold on to it with both arms. The taxi ride from the Heights back to Coventry Station went fine. You were almost home. So close that you could see the clock tower where your heart was sleeping peacefully.

Then you stopped at Commerce Avenue Station. You just wanted to get him some pastries from the little bakery tucked away on 3rd Street that you both love. It was a decent walk; you knew that. You also knew that Jason wouldn’t want you to go out of your way by yourself. But it was morning and you were a grown woman and you could handle yourself, right? Well, that’s what you thought until a pair of hands clamped down on your shoulders and yanked you violently into a side alley.

Jason had prepared you for something like this. You’d spent countless evenings with him teaching you self defense techniques in the training area of your home. None of it mattered because the man that had you by the shoulders slammed you so hard into the brick wall that all your thoughts went hazy. Before you could regain your footing, you were shoved to the ground. The bitter sting of your palms scraping open pierced through the fog, as did the crushing weight of the vile man on top of you. Fear shot through you as the man started tugging at his belt and you realized that this wasn’t intended to be a mugging. You tried to scream but a grimy hand clamped over your mouth, hitting your head against the ground and soaking your hair in dirty rain water and blood.

Your eyes darted around in search of someone—anyone. But no one was coming. You felt fingernails scratch against your stomach as clammy hands curled into the waistband of your sweatpants and suddenly you saw your savior. A brick from the damaged alleyway laid within reach. You didn’t even think when you grabbed it, when you swung it as hard as you could into the side of the man’s head. The corner hit his temple and he crumbled to the side. You rose to your knees and hit the man again. And again. All you could remember were Jason’s firm instructions: if someone makes it a choice of you or them, you make sure that it’s you no matter what it takes.

“I don’t r-remember anything else,” you sob into his chest. “There was so much blood, Jason. And his head—oh, God.”

Jason shushes you gently. He holds you tight in his arms like he’s terrified that if he loosens his grip even slightly, you’ll fade away on him.

“Don’t think about it, baby. You did what you needed to do. You protected yourself. I’m so proud of you.”

“I killed someone, Jason. I killed someone.”

You look at him wide eyed—afraid, horrified, guilty. No. Jason won’t have that. You will not feel guilty over some lowlife scumbag who wanted to hurt you, who probably would have killed you. Jason can’t even stomach the thought. He wants to put a bullet into whatever’s left of that predator’s head. No, the only shame in you killing that man is that you got to him before Jason could.

“I need you to listen to me,” he says, repeats your name again for emphasis. “You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.”

“Someone’s dead because of me, Jay,” you argue, gripping him tighter as your panic rises.

“Baby, do you know how many people are dead because of me?” he asks. “Far, far more than I’d ever want you to know. Do you think I’m a monster, honey? That I did something wrong?”

He knows it’s an apples to oranges comparison. But you’ve used this same tactic on him so many times that he also knows it’s effective. Every time he demeans himself for something, you ask if he’d treat you the way he treats himself for the same thing. The answer is always no.

“No!” you reply emphatically. “You protect people. You do it to keep people safe.”

“You did it to keep yourself safe.”

“But—”

“No buts. Or ifs. No ands, either, just in case you get any ideas,” he says lightly, brushing a speck of blood off your cheekbone.

You smile at his stupid little comment and he feels the tension in his body release just slightly. As long as there’s light back in your eyes for even a moment, he knows that you’ll be okay. He picks you up, lets you cling your arms around his neck and bury your face in his chest as he carries you to the bathroom upstairs. He runs you a bath and, after asking repeatedly if you were okay with it, undresses you and washes the blood and grime from your body. He wraps you in a big fluffy towel, dries and brushes your hair, and tends to your injuries before he bundles you up in his comfiest hoodie and pajama pants. He soothes you when your tears make their return and never leaves your line of sight because he knows he makes you feel safe.

The thought gnaws at him throughout the day. It outright scalds him as he lies in bed with you after deciding to skip patrol. He’s failed you. Failed to protect you, failed to ensure nothing harms a hair on your head. He’s failed at taking care of you, the one thing that matters more to him than anything else. He’s seconds away from spiraling into self hatred when your sweet voice comes calling, soft and pleading.

“Jay…please stay with me,” you say softly.

Your eyes are clear and focused again. You squeeze his waist tight where your arms are wrapped around him, like you’re physically trying to anchor him in place in your bed. The look on your face says that you know exactly where his mind was headed. You see right through him. It makes him feel more vulnerable than anything else, and it surprises him how much he loves the feeling. And Jason, as always and for eternity, can’t bring himself to deny you. So he pulls himself together and shoves all his self loathing down. He can deal with it later—you need him more right now.

“I’m right here, hayati. Not goin’ anywhere, I promise.”

He kisses you gently and feels some of that self hatred wash away when you chase after him for more goodnight kisses. He feels it dissipate even more when you fall asleep in his arms with a soft smile on your face. It’s all but forgotten as he drifts off too, safe in the knowledge that you’re here with him, that he can feel your heart beating pressed tight against his own.

[mythalism]

i feel like all of my pondering and analyzing and criticizing veilguard over the past few months has actually truly given me a better understanding of what dragon age meant to me, what about it specifically was so meaningful, and why, as a result, veilguard felt so wrong. it took a while for me to figure it out. about three full months of relentless essay writing, actually. but i think if you had asked me a few years ago what the core of my love for dragon age was, whatever answer i gave would not have truly gotten to the root of it, because i think i had to experience the disappointment of veilguard to fully understand why i love dragon age. and ive realized that core is that i loved how the previous dragon age entries demand so much of the player, and deliberately prompt introspection and critical, often political, thought.

dragon age games have historically forced the player to be self-reflective and introspective about their worldview and beliefs. solas is obviously a fantastic example, as he was deliberately written to be a reflection of the player in order to prompt them to reflect on how they treat people, how our expectations of people influence their behavior, and how people are pushed to extremes and turned into monsters or saved by love and kindness. how do people become monsters? what drives them to blow up buildings or start rebellions or destroy the world as you know it? are they right or wrong? does it even matter? how did you contribute to this? are you innocent? it puts these insane, politically and morally charged situations in your face and forces you to confront them. slavery, a refugee crisis, poverty, class disparities, racism, foreign occupation, the list goes on, and you are not given the option to look away or be a bystander. you have to ACT. you have to choose, you have to make judgements, you have to take responsibility and explore your role in this world as someone with the capacity to act upon it, to make your will a reality, to fail, to make mistakes. i honestly can't think of any other video game that does this to the same extent? nor any media at all because the act of being IN the world as one of it's people through the act of role-playing is essential to how it provokes this experience in the player. its ballsy. they deliberately try to make you uncomfortable. these games are full of liars, deceivers, betrayers. the games themselves lie to you. its character try to deceive you. did you catch it? or were you fooled? what else might you be fooled by? who else might be lying to you? in the game? in real life? and then you get to play it again knowing the end, and what the game prompts changes with your new knowledge. now it asks, do you forgive them? what makes someone worthy of forgiveness? where do you draw the line? what do you think?

i dont think i realized until recently how impactful this was for me considering how i first got into dragon age at 16 years old. i dont think i had experienced anything up to that point that would put a situation like judging a war criminal who ordered the deaths of children or another war criminal who just left me to die and orchestrated a near-coup or a traumatized terrorist who just blew up a church right in my face, and said MAKE A DECISION. and i didnt know it at the time, but looking back i can see how valuable it was for me at that age to have what was effectively an avenue of exploration and self-expression of all of these moral and political issues that i was grappling with as a young adult. i played inquisition for the first time just months before i voted in my first presidential primary. i already had a political consciousness at this point, but it was nonetheless new and vulnerable and still blossoming into something more concrete. inquisition, then, almost provided a sort of political, moral and personal sandbox for me from ages 16-20 to better help me understand myself in relation to the world. the RPG-ness allowed me to put myself into these situations - like the mage-templar war and its metaphor for mass incarceration and police brutality - while i was also simultaneously grappling with and trying to understand these issues in real life. having dragon age to help me further unpack my own beliefs and conception of these issues was undeniably impactful. it provided a space, through a narrative i enjoyed and cared about, to make choices and judgement calls and better understand who i was, and what felt right to me. it asked, "what do you think?"

veilguard lacks this. completely. and lets be clear that the previous games did not always do a perfect job. many of these depictions are messy and harmful and problematic, but they at least, by extension of their own existence in a narrative that forces you to THINK and JUDGE and DECIDE, give me the space and opportunity to judge them as messy, as problematic, as harmful. i can confidently say that i think da2 is too sympathetic to the templars as an organization because the fact that da2 presents me with so many narrative conflicts regarding the templar organization allows me to not just make in-game decisions and play as a staunch advocate for mage freedom and circle abolition, but to form opinions on the game itself by extension. i can confidently say that i believe the qunari's portrayal is islamophobic because the game has prompted me so many times; what do i think about the qunari? what do i think about the oppression of the elves? what do i think about dorian being a seemingly good person but defending the practice of slavery? who should rule orzammar; the progressive asshole or the conservative traditionalist? do i forgive loghain? do i forgive anders? do i forgive solas? this in-world critical thinking about issues in thedas leads to meta critical thinking. further questions naturally follow -> what message did the writers intend to send through anders? how can i notice the echoes of how this story came into fruition in the shadow of 9/11? what do solas's endings tell me about the writers view of retributive punishment? how is bioware's portrayal of the dalish, as inspired by indigenous north americans, reflective of deep-seated anti-indigenous canadian sentiment? why did the writers stop prompting these hard questions at all in veilguard? did they only like it when it was about characters, not when it led to critical thinking about them and the company as a whole? through these processes of in-world interrogation, i am inevitably invited to analyze the effectiveness of their narrative portrayals and the writing itself. perhaps this is why dragon age is so famous for its discourse lol.

ive said before that im not sure that veilguard could ever have been as impactful for me as the previous games, partly because when you are 16 everything is more impactful because your brain is an eager sponge, unless it did something that really resonated with me as an adult. but what it should have been, at the very least, is something that could have been as impactful and formative on a current 16 year old that sees a gif on tumblr and decides to check out the game, as inquisition was to me 10 years ago. and im sure there are teenagers and younger adults out there playing this game and loving it and loving the characters and the world and thinking its great, good fun. thats great. however it fundamentally cannot have the same profound, developmentally catalytic experience it had on me because it simply does not challenge the player. it does not prompt them to question their own beliefs and the power structures within their lives. it does not prompt them to reflect on the political narratives they may have been fed all their lives. it does not confront them with the sorts of topics that get books on banned lists in florida and force them to bear witness, to think deeper, to feel guilt or horror at the outcome of your own poorly-made decision, to make moral judgements, to make mistakes, and to live with the consequences.

i think i now understand why veilguard was so disappointing to me and ultimately would be a failure in my eyes no matter if i enjoyed the combat or the exploration or whatever other shiny coat of paint sits atop it. veilguard does not ask much of you. it does not prompt any sort of introspection or interrogation of your presently held beliefs. it does not demand anything from the player except to dodge at the right moment. this is a fundamental, core departure from what made me fall in love with dragon age in the first place. if you love dragon age because you want "fantasy escapism" and fun characters to smooch, then i am happy for you. but i would remind you that can find fantasy escapism all over the steam library - farming sims, cozy games, a witch looking for her cat in the alps, etc. what you cannot find are games that are willing and brave enough to challenge and provoke the player into a better, more thorough understanding of themselves in relation to our world and it's many, complex and daunting political and moral issues. to have lost such a thing, when media like this has become so few and far between, and during a time when we need it more than ever, is a devastating loss.

[the-shades-of-night-descend]

As she fell deep into addiction and became hooked on the drugs that circled Warhol’s Factory, you would have thought that her creator and friend would have been there. But really, Warhol watched Sedgwick’s death with cruel wonder.

When Warhol met Sedgwick, their friendship burned bright and fast as a kind of mutual obsession. Sedgwick was looking to escape her abusive, well-to-do roots and connect with the art scene. Warhol, as always, was looking for money and fame. It’s no secret that the artist was a social climber. That was a fact that he’d happily admit. So when he met the troubled child of a wealthy family, he stuck tight to the ‘Poor Little Rich Girl’.

For a few years, Sedgwick was his muse, appearing in several of his films, joining him for interviews and ruling as the Queen over his Factory kingdom. But as Sedgwick began to stretch out her wings when she met Bob Dylan, and when her addiction was starting to take hold of her head, health and bank account, the artist didn’t just abandon her but seemed to kick her to the curb with incredible cruelty. “Do you think Edie will let us film her when she commits suicide?” Warhol said.

In 1971, Sedgwick did die but Warhol was nowhere to be seen. After being pushed out of his circle and replaced by a new blonde fascination in the form of Nico, the superstar succumbed to her addictions. The world still mourns her, but it seems that Warhol never did, as even his written memorial for his supposed muse is callous.

In his book, The Philosophy Of Andy Warhol, one cryptic chapter is described as “The Fall And Rise Of My Favourite Sixties Girl”. Even that feels odd. Either Warhol is deeming Sedgwick’s entire life as a ‘fall’, and merely her death as her ‘rise’, or he’s purposefully ignoring her fall into and struggles with addiction.

“Favourite Sixties Girl” also doesn’t seem to fit, considering the tone of the chapter. Telling the story of “Taxi”, “a confused, beautiful debutante”, with a “poignantly vacant, vulnerable quality that made her a reflection of everybody’s private fantasies.” From the first paragraph, Warhol seems to make it clear that his fascination with Sedgwick wasn’t based on who she was but on who he could mould her to be. He presents her as a void or a canvas, writing, “Taxi could be anything you wanted her to be – a little girl, a woman, intelligent, dumb, rich, poor – anything. She was a wonderful, beautiful blank. The mystique to end all mystiques.”

However, perhaps the very issue with Sedgwick was that she wasn’t a void or a blank. Instead, she was very clearly a troubled product of a hard life. While Warhol seemed determined to simply see her as a rich girl, Sedgwick’s childhood was horrific despite her wealth. She was routinely abused by her father, institutionalised when she tried to speak out about it and trapped in a cycle of mistreatment no matter what.

While refusing to acknowledge his muse’s pain in any real or helpful way, Warhol saw it and wanted to use it. “I could see that she had more problems than anyone I’d ever met. So beautiful but so sick,” he wrote, adding, “I was really intrigued.”

Andy Warhol & Edie Sedgwick in Paris, 1965

[revvethasmythh]

listen, now that everything is said and done i'm going to say something i've been thinking but not outright saying for the past nearly four years. frankly, imogen and laudna's relationship is a pale shadow of caleb and veth's and if you really sit and think about it, it's outright embarrassing for the former party. it's like if you saw a beautiful piece of art and tried to emulate it and then the only thing you managed to jot down that was the same was the basic shape and you never added any color when the color was the most important part. imogen and laudna's relationship is formed out of almost the exact same origins (troubled mage who needs to keep a distance from regular society joins up with monstrous misfit with a traumatic backstory and become each other's most important person while traveling place-to-place because they keep getting into trouble in cities). the difference is, genuinely, how much more colorful and lived in caleb and veth's story feels. they met in a podunk county jail and worked together to break out of the place, stayed together for practical reasons (straight-up survival) and then out of genuine friendship. they were hobos in the woods together. they cuddled on the side of the roads on cold nights together. they were genuinely each other's sole lifeline because they were the type of people no one in the world cared about in a very real, visceral way. they were also con artists, and sam and liam worked together to come up with an entire booklet of different cons they used to survive, which come into play surprisingly often during the campaign (Modern Literature, famously, but also Mother's Love and Money Pot featured).

comparatively, we know next to nothing about what imogen and laudna's lives looked like after leaving gelvaan, and the Incident™️ that sent them running in the first place remains amorphous and random no matter how many times the story is told or whatever extra details get added. the people of gelvaan found laudna to be a generically threatening presence (because of her fun-scary appearance and/or kooky-fun-scary behavior) and picked up their torches and pitchforks to run her out of town. imogen heard her thoughts and found them so beautiful she nearly killed two of the townspeople she grew up with the defend her and then they fled into the night together. and that's it. what did they do for two entire years after that? i don't know! neither do you. they don't appear to have struggled for money like caleb and veth did, there's no reference to hard-living, no real reference to what jobs they took to stay afloat, no mention of the practical realities of living as homeless nomads, no mention of towns and cities they'd visited and how those places impacted them. nothing. empty. no color. how did their relationship develop? also don't know! they seem to have slotted together perfectly as friends with no conflict for years before slotting together perfectly as lovers while batting aside all attempts at conflict later. done and dusted, that's the relationship, and people have the gall to call caleb and veth's successor relationship 'soulmatism' when it doesn't hold a candle to what the original offered.

which was, to be clear, endless complexity. i can't tell you how to define it, and i don't think the character's themselves could define it if they tried. sam went into the campaign intending to lean into a familial relationship and quickly realized that wasn't the vibe, course-corrected into veth having a crush on caleb--something sam has said developed fairly early in the campaign.* liam went into the relationship not intending to care about her nearly as much as he ended up doing, then spent the early campaign eps grappling with just how suddenly important she was to him, to the point that, in the face of her potentially dying in episode 20, liam says to sam, "do you want to make my character turn evil already?"** both were surprised at how tightly their characters clung to each other, and developed a deeply caring, highly insular dynamic where they were suspicious of outsiders and desperately guarded each other. with full retrospect, both went into the relationship intending to use each other (caleb for general usefulness/protection and veth, obviously, hoping caleb could change her back one day), then found such deep and tender care that they became each other's worlds. for a time. until nott became veth and veth had a husband and it sent their relationship into a tailspin because no matter how you frame the relationship, caleb clearly felt his feelings for her and the way they behaved together stepped over the line of how one should act with a married woman. after that, he is terrified of the idea that he might not have a place in her life and works so hard to create opportunities to insinuate himself into her present and future (teleportation spells so she can travel home quickly and still return to the group, making room for her family in the tower so she can stay with him, offering to tutor luc in magic to stay in her life, etc). veth gets her body and her life back but fears returning home will be lackluster compared to what she's experienced with the group, starts falling out of love with her husband, and has intense extra-martial feelings for caleb that are canonical. their relationship morphs and changes constantly throughout the campaign, and the one thing about their dynamic that never changes is how deeply and truly they love each other. you want to talk about soulmatism? them being the two party members with fake names who's real names share aspects of each other ("Bren" and "Brenatto") both from small-town dwendalian empire who's lives have been deeply impacted by meddling of the cerberus assembly (veth's in adulthood, caleb's in childhood) and who's deepest traumas are respectively fire and water does the trick for me.

so why is one so popular and the other, particularly as a romantic ship, very much is not? it would be obtuse of me not to immediately point to the fact that imogen and laudna are two pretty, skinny white women who claim to have deliciously little agency in their own stories and provide a blank enough canvas that the relationship can be whatever you want it to be. there's a reason there's so many AU fics for them, after all. caleb and veth on the other hand would center first a relationship between the handsome white fandom-popular sadboi and *checks notes* a self-described ugly, unfeminine goblin with deep neuroses and later a short, fat brown woman who also happens to be a young mother from a small country town. popular fandom, tragically, will almost always turn away from dealing with complexity of the latter for the empty calories of the former regardless of the quality gap between the two. if anything, watching the popularity of imogen and laudna's relationship has cemented my opinion that if veth had been different (either a man or a generically attractive white woman or someone more conventionally pretty just in general), widobrave would have been a massively popular ship, and i think it would have been regardless of veth's marriage. people can forgive a lot to write about their two generically attractive favorites getting together. they're a lot less forgiving for an ugly goblin or a fat, brown young mother, though.

tldr: reject modernity, embrace tradition. ship widobrave

*Talks Machina for C2E88, VOD no longer available, but a paraphrase of the quote can be found here **(2:09:30 on the YouTube VOD).

[3liza]

Unfortunately, I think we are headed for another pandemic and to be honest, I think we are already in the middle of it. I have basically 5 hospitals and over 100 clinics in our health system, and I have not seen it this bad since covid slammed us. All of our area hospitals are full, we can no longer depend on the CDC for truth on anything, and many doctors are sounding the alarm. We just opened our drive through testing facilities again. We are encouraging telehealth visits instead of in person if at all possible. Right now Covid, Flu, and RSV are running rampant... However, its this new mystery illness that is really going fucking nuts. In my direct department of 80+ people, I had 24 out with it in one week. Several of those turned into pneumonia .. 2 were hospitalized. Both me and my wife have had it. It felt like covid... Wife even lost her smell and taste. We both got tested for the usual stuff and it was all negative. Whatever this is, its highly contagious. It doesn't matter what we test for, it comes back negative. It feels like covid, hard to breathe, but with lots of sinus pressure, congestion, non productive cough, extreme fatigue, and lasts a long time. I took stronger steroids than usual, Methylprednisolone .. Helped a little.. Then about 10 days of antibiotics.. Ended up needing an inhaler for about a month. Same story with my wife, but hers turned into full blown pneumonia. Watch out for this shit. So far its not too deadly, but the fact is that no one knows what the hell it is. Maybe bird flu or something, but tests are coming back negative. There are plenty of theories out there, with some saying its some new strain of Human Meta pneumonia virus, bird flu, swine flu, and tuberculosis. The point is, you can no longer trust the CDC or any government health agency and even the media is under reporting it. Its all over the country. Honestly, the biggest killer right now is influenza A.. Its running rampant and resulting in a shit ton of hospitalizations.

[fluffmonger]

So, in my experience growing up as a deeply curious child in an Evangelical (tm) church..... We *did* read the Bible, we had Sunday school, and Bible studies, all kinds of things. My church used the New International Version as a standard, which keeps some of the poetics of King James, but is a lot clearer and cleaner to read, more modern English. Reading the Bible wasn't the issue at hand.

What we weren't taught was how to interpret the Bible in Context, as a document that was written by historic humans in historic societies and cultures, across several hundred years. There's... Depending on the church, and pastor or Bible study, you may get some emphasis on the difference between the gospels and the letters, or a rundown of the "parts" of the old testament ... But that's usually it. There's no digging into it, and absolutely no questioning. There's very little, if any, acknowledgement that it is in fact, a bunch of separate texts all compiled by a small group of Christians, decades or more after the death of Jesus. To many Christians, I'd wager it feels like the Bible just appeared fully formed out of the air one day, as their holy book. And of course you can't question it, it's *the word of God* so it has to be correct and right, and if you question you're Doubting and not Having Faith (etc).

I hadn't connected the fact that many of the writings of Paul, and John the Revelator were done in the Reign of Emperor Nero until recently, when my classicist partner saw the dates and went "wait what". And if you know anything about Nero well..... Is it any wonder that Paul might have some Concerns about things like morality, and public display of faith and other things? And again! I'm someone who was asking questions and such, all the time, even back then. I was deeply nerdy about it and trying to read it like I read in English class. This made me..... Unpopular. And also felt kind of blasphemous? Like, I always felt odd about that approach while I was in the middle of it because it was *not* standard.

Likewise, a lot of the old testament gets written off as "a collection of stories" and treated more like.... Parables or fables?? Instead of a written collection of Jewish oral history about their history, laws, traditions, and culture. It's all set vaugely "in the past, in Bible times" without any rooting to real history or landscapes or cultures. And of course, because the Bible is all that matters, most Protestants and evangelicals don't think at all about any of the scholarship that goes back millennia on any part of it, the writings of Rabis and later on Christian scholars. The Bible as I was taught, wasn't a living document or a record, it wasn't something to be debated about or argued with, or even questioned, no matter how weird it outdated it seemed. It was *law*, ironclad, and to the claims of many, perfect as is (despite being a work in translation with a lot of nuance and no understanding of translators bias or how a translation should work).

It's.... Pretty fucking dire, and horrific, especially to me now, because the things I've learned about the time periods that the Bible is from? Are actually fascinating, and make it *so* much richer as a text! And then understanding the world of early Christianity, how it became what it is today, how those beliefs and practices became established.... Man, it's fascinating. But again, there's this culture of "Christianity has always been like this and will always be like this" that's very present in those spaces that make it really hard to gain sight of it all.

And... Of course at the end of the day.... The reason people like me didn't realize some of this, is because we weren't told. We werent given the tools to ask the questions we needed to. You can't explore what you don't even know exists, and when you're just told that we don't associate with "those people" and are discouraged from thinking about other faiths except to convert them..... Well.

So yeah. It's not (just) that people don't have reading comprehension.... It's also that they quite literally arent taught the context and origins of their faith for.... Reasons. Also, American Christianity has always just been... Very extreme. Probably bc of the puritans but hey.

Since posting that "how many mass graves and extinct cultures" post last month, I've had multiple Christians in the notes whining that there isn't a "specific instruction of belief that Christianity needs to wipe out every other religion in the world" in Christianity's teachings, and that it's all just The Church/King James/etc.

And every time, I point to the literal text of the passages of The Great Commission.

And nearly every time, that shuts them up; the only time it didn't, it was to engage in some disgusting semantical goalpost moving.

But it's like...

Why do Christians not know the content of their own texts? Is your faith really so tribalistic and totemic around the concept of "Jesus" that you all don't bother to actually read the religious texts?

It feels like it must be--I've heard of too many instances of Christians walking out of readings of The Sermon On The Mount because they think it's "liberal nonsense" and the like, but I just find it baffling and more than a little sad that I, a Jew, apparently knows the New Testament's text better than the people who swear by it and ostensibly believe and follow it.

[euphoria-looney]

Idk if you’ve seen Nosferatu but I think a situation like that could totally apply to (Name).

Brief overview:

In Nosferatu, the main character Ellen grows up feeling lonely and isolated. She pleads for a supernatural being to arrive and comfort her and she wakes up ‘Nosferatu’ who makes her pledge herself to him fully. There’s loads of other stuff as well but I think this main idea would be interesting. Nosferatu in the movie is really, really old and ugly, but I think (Name) deserves a fit, hot vampire boyfriend/husband. But essentially he’s like a Vampire Count, aka Dracula.

How it’s play out:

(Name),as a young child, calls out for ‘Nosferatu’ (or whatever name the vampire will have) and he wakes up. He makes them pledge their complete loyalty to him for all eternally, essentially making them his ‘bride’. (Name) is comforted by him, but this connection fades as they grow older.

Then, when they turn 18, Nosferatu calls out for them in their dreams and travels to Gotham, keeping them in his manor. He’s basically a yandere in the movie anyway, so (Name) is kept quite weak and docile due to his mind control, spending most of their time doting on him or sleeping.

Now, I think it’d be interesting for the Batfam to react because the thing about Nosferatu is that the oath to him MUST be consensual, give or take MAJOR manipulation, but still, (Name) has to willingly go with him. So the Batfam have to come to terms with the fact that (Name) literally chose an obsessive, undead (but fit) vampire husband over them.

And ‘Nosferatu’ is NOT going to play fair if they try and take his bride. Literally no Dracula variant does.

I Asked For a Friend, But Got a Husband?

"I sense her in my mind, she's my collar" She's My Collar (feat. Kali Uchis)

So Much More. (Should I name this something new? Since it's a different AU?)

Special (?)

Divider Creds: @anitalenia and @qqmariztwsse

Being young, barely seen or heard, I could only busy myself with books. Even then how many books could I read before feeling that loneliness knaw on me?

Okay, dramatic I knew but who knew this one feeling would lead me to immediately get married by the age of eighteen?

I know how bad that sounds, trust me, I was the one who experienced it.

"What are you thinking about right now, honey?" I felt arms wrap around me.

Meet Elzire.

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

"Nothing much," I replied looking through our mail.

How we met, well I believe it because of this, but don't take my word for it, I might just be delusional.

I had gone to the library and saw [D/D] she ecstatically waved to me before Damian pulled her away giving me a sneer. I waved that off and looked around before spotting a book that I’d never seen before. 

It had a blood red cover and the title ‘Forever’, curious, I opened it. It seemed like a child's story as they had short sentences and photos. It starts with a girl who, one day after being tired of being lonely prays to the gods of her world she doesn’t care who or what they sent no matter what they looked like or how they acted as long as they were her friends, and nice to her at least, she would be happy.

Then it happened, a boy her age descended to her and every day they would play before growing old together.

The end.

I put the book back before returning to what I was originally doing, studying for my next exam.

— 

It had been a good week since I read that fantasy child’s book, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I went to the library at night when everyone was either on a mission or asleep and to my surprise the book was gone.

Someone must’ve thrown it out, there’s no reason to keep it here anyone.

I let out a sigh before heading back to my room and though I accepted the book was gone I couldn’t help but wonder, could I do that?

No, that’d be silly.

But…

It never hurts anyone to try.

“Please, whoever is out there, please accompany me and become the pillar I can lean on.” 

.

..

…

Welp I tried, back to sleep I have a piano recital tomorrow no time for these goofy beliefs.

3RD POV

 A figure descended into [name]’s room their black hair fluttered from the wind and their red eyes and fangs glistened in the dark of night, their hands like claws before stepping into the light a little more revealing a tall yet built man he looked angelic despite being a vampire that was friends with a demon, specially Barbatos.

He creeps a little closer to [name]’s room crouching to caress their faces. Making them blink open their eyes.

“... Am I still dreaming?” They question themself. Making the vampire chuckle holding their hands in his and asking.

“Do you mind becoming mine forever?”

“Woah, my wish worked… sure, why not.” He smiled happily placing one of their hands on his cheeks and relished in the warmth that their hand brought to his freezing complexion.

Before they had passed out.

He caught them before they could slam back onto their bed and gently laid them down.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

—

Holy crap what was that dream? 

Maybe I shouldn’t mind it. 

For the next few years, nothing changed except my dreams. Then I turned eighteen and it was out of pure luck that I met him, his name was Elzire.

We got married that same year after a few months of dating which I was totally against but then he convinced me and it hasn’t been like our marriage has been going great. I don’t like that he wanted me to be a stay-at-home wife.

Don’t get me wrong I appreciate him wanting this for me because he doesn’t want any workload on me but I just feel that it’s unfair for him.

Too bad the only payment he wants from me is to do simple household things but even that he just hires some housecleaning or helpers instead of letting me do it and when he comes home to get his pillow, it’s nice to play with his hair, might be better than mine.

Today again though I’m stuck at home and there’s nothing to do as I finished everything, it’s not hard when only two people are living in this house.

I went to look through the mail before finding a letter addressed to me.

It’s from Alfred, but I had never told him where I moved… It’s fine, this is Alfred we’re talking about.

“Dear young master, [name], 

How have you been? It's been 7 years since we last saw you or contacted you, I managed to get a glimpse of you and was able to deliver this to you.

Your family has long awaited meeting you again, if you could give them the chance to see you that would be lovely.

Sincerely, 

Alfred Pennyworth.”

I looked over my shoulder to Elzire before responding.

“I got a letter from my old butler Alfred, saying that my family would like to meet with me again.”

“So suddenly, darling?” He raised his eyebrow at that. Seems he was as lost as I was. I told him everything like he was my therapist so he knew too well himself why this wouldn’t make sense.

-

Despite my hesitance, I decided to go.

"Really Sweetie, you don't have to this isn't something that I would waste my time on, so neither should you." One hand on the steering wheel and the other holding my hand.

"Come on, El, I'm curious, 23 years of my life and only now do they care to see me. Wouldn't you also wonder why?"

"Wonder, not meet. but because I love you and I care for you we'll still go." He squeezed my hand a bit before softening his grip again.

We pulled up on the driveway and saw Alfred come out of the manor.

Elzire got out of the car first before opening the door for me, helping me get out.

I approached Alfred before bringing him into an embrace.

"Alfie, it's been so long." I pulled away before directing his attention to Elzire.

"This is Elzire."

"Pleasure to meet you, young sir." Alfred did his bow before leading us to the living room where the whole family was.

"[name]" [M/D] whispered, tears welling up in her eye, standing up and starting to approach me.

I smiled but didn't reciprocate the hug she was trying to give me.

"[name], we realized our mistake. it's time to come home." Bruce told me.

"Well, as much as I'm... grateful for that offer, I've already moved on and had a life, where you guys no longer matter or are related to me anymore."

"What are you-"

"This is my husband, Elzire. And I don't plan to leave him, for this."

Guys I quit on this if you couldn't notice the ending was rushed so badly, I'm so sorry to the one who sent the request I know this isn't what you would like but I kind of had a mind exploration, and now I have no idea what or how to write this request.

Maybe I'll rewrite this in the future but for now, this is the main result. If you were looking for a confrontation. It's kind of the situation of this Special.

Genuinely y'all could make your own or imagine this scenario. I have no idea what I'm doing anyway, thank you so much for reading this I don't think I'm tagging anybody on this and supporting other batfam authors, especially with all the hate that I've been seeing Luckily I haven't received anything.

Bye-bye, if anything is too unclear and grammatically wrong inform me!

Elzire:

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

-ILoveeeMoney

[delilahsturns]

— ୨୧ getting older . . . m.s

in which . . . two childhood best friends bump into each other after drifting apart.

warnings . . . resolved angst, fluff toward end.

a/n 💌 : based off of real life experiences lol, it’s been a while since i’ve written angst so i hope you like it!

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

The coffee shop in boston, massachusetts smelled exactly the same as it always did. a nostalgic and sweet blend of cinnamon and espresso that floated around the air. you had been avoiding this cafe for quite some time now, considering that you had just moved back to boston around a year ago to be closer to your family and friends. too many memories were wrapped up in this place—so much laughter, whispered secrets, and mostly of all…him.

you sighed heavily, adjusting the strap of the bag slung on your shoulder as you waited in line, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. suddenly, you heard a voice call out your name. a warm, and familiar voice you hadn’t heard in nearly eight years.

“y/n?” the voice asked softly. your heart stalled, something in your mind clicked. fuck, this couldn’t be, this had to be some sort of illusion, hallucination. but it wasn’t. you slowly turned around, and there he was.

matt sturniolo. the only man you’d ever been in love with.

he looked older, of course. his shoulders looked broader, his hair was a little messier as it fell effortlessly over his forehead. but his blue eyes—those hadn’t changed one bit. they still held the same welcoming expression and warmth you remembered, the same warmth that persuaded you to believe that you and matt could have been something more. but that wasn’t possible, not in this lifetime at least.

you lightly swallowed, your eyes darting in different directions as your breathing grew slightly quicker. “matt.” you spoke, emptiness present in your tone. it felt…odd. the way you interacted with him felt nothing like when you and matt were kids, running around recklessly in his backyard. all the stupid arguments over mario kart, and so much more. nothing felt the same, and you were sure it wouldn’t ever feel the same ever again.

silence. complete silence. that was, until matt spoke. “you still drink caramel lattes?” he asked, nodding at the menu as he stepped closed to you, now standing next to you in the line. you blinked, caught off guard. “you still drink black coffee and pretend to like it?” you grinned. matt chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, some things never change i guess.” matt turned his head to look at you, giving you a somewhat smile.

but, things do change.

all you could think about was your past with matt. how you both talked every single day, how you once knew everything about each other—your fears, your dreams. the way you and matt were absolutely inseparable, everyone in both of your families knew it, and so did you. however, your lives changed. college and matt’s career drove the both of you in different directions. you and matt promised to stay in touch no matter what, but that quickly faded into distance, and silence.

“you live here again?” matt asked, shifting on his feet. you quickly nodded. “mhm, moved back here last year after i finished college, you?”

“y’know, me and my brothers are just visiting our parents for the weekend, then we’re gonna head back to LA.” matt said, glancing down at the ground as if he was unsure of what to say to you next. then, with a hesitant smile he finally spoke up. “do you maybe wanna…sit down and talk for a minute? it’d be nice to catch up.” matt asked. you hesitated. it would be easier to make an excuse, to walk away and let the past stay where it was. but, something in matt’s expression—the way his eyes softened as if he was pleading, made you nod.

the both of you ordered and collected your drinks, finding a small table by a window. and for the first time in years, you both talked, it felt genuine this time. you both talked and laughed about life, catching each other up on what had been going on with your lives for the past few years. somewhere between the occasional stolen glances and laughter, you had realized something. even though time had pulled the both of you apart, with matt smiling at you the way he used to, it didn’t feel so much like the end anymore.

after all, it felt like your friendship was just beginning again.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

[barrenclan]

i feel a bit bad for cormorant :( im sure this isnt your intent but it almost feels as though hes settled for a life he didnt want

I'm curious what this is in response to - there's two major things I can think of, so let me explore them for a second!

So, if this is in response to the idea that Cormorantleaf wants kittens and Pinewing doesn't; lemme talk about that for a second. I tried to go into it in the last epilogue, but with their late-stage relationship I wanted to address a trope in fiction that really bothers me, especially as someone who doesn't want to have children. Stop me if you've heard it before:

Characters A and B are in a romantic relationship. Character A wants to have kids, but B doesn't, for whatever reason. They struggle, and talk about it, and eventually A says "it's okay, even if we don't have kids, I'll still love you!" It's really nice, and confirms that they love each other even if they don't want. Except, then, B turns around and says "it's so good to know that! It made me change my mind; I got over my 'fears', and now I do want kids!"

That bugs me. It's always the assumption, even if it's established that a relationship would be okay without kids, it's always on the onus of the person who doesn't want children to change their mind. It's never enough to stop at "it's okay if we don't have kids together" - and then they don't. So that's what I wanted to do with Cormorantleaf and Pinewing's relationship, and it's why I had Pinewing talk about his discomfort surrounding children so often and Cormorantleaf's potential to be a father. If Corm wanted kids more than he wanted to be with Pine - he could leave! No stopping him. But Pinewing matters more to him than having kids does. I find it more distasteful that someone would force themselves to raise children if they didn't want to (it's almost like that's a theme of the story... and kind of exactly what happened with Nightberry). Admittedly, I would've liked to rather do that idea with Daffodilcloud and Duncan instead of the main gay couple, but eh, I already had an end-of-arc theme with Daff to wrap up that would've clashed. These are the decisions you make when writing a story.

On the other hand, if this is in response to the idea that they're traveling around instead of settling down in one place, or that Pinewing is forcing him into the relationship; maybe I was a bit too subtle with what I was trying to get across. Cormorantleaf was actually the first one to suggest that they travel around together, way back in Issue 26:

Corm needs an emotional anchor more than a physical anchor. And this was especially clear in his early development, and how his relationship to Pinepaw was a bit unhealthy (and vice versa, too); he had such intense abandonment issues that he was holding Pinepaw up as a total pillar of support, and believed he wouldn't be able to survive without him.

That's why I wanted Cormorantleaf to have a chance to be on his own during the breakup, and solidfy that he could exist without a relationship, that he didn't need another person to survive. But instead that he could willingly choose a relationship with Pinewing, because it was something he wanted and something he thought would enrich his life rather than an obligation.

All that to say that Comorantleaf's hesitation in the last epilogue is not meant to be presented as "he's being forced into something he doesn't want by Pinewing", but rather "he's scared that them traveling around will cause Pinewing to abandon him, and that makes him panic and lash out".

And Pinewing would have absolutely stayed with him even after Cormorantleaf yelled at him, except that Corm happened to hit on Pinewing's own insecurities that come from his childhood of neglect and feelings that nobody actually wants him around:

You don't have to be un-anonymous to respond to this, and anyways if it's just personal feelings that's perfectly valid and not something I want to try and change. But I never meant to make it seem like Cormorantleaf wasn't happy with where he ended up, or that he 'settled' for something he didn't want.

[jmtorres]

the idea of this society breaks my head. nothing can get finished. new building construction? why bother? you're knitting something? no you're not, you might as well be Penelope frogging your progress every night.

but also nothing can be meaningfully recorded. scientific data? the day's work is all gone and fuck you if your experiment needed longer than a day to run. in the morning there's no record of what's been going on or how long it's been the same day; is someone trying to keep count? they have to do it by memory.

there's nothing new to read. and for a while it's the most well read populace, because why do 'work', but slowly everyone has eventually read everything and the society shifts to hungrily waiting for new short stories posted online at the end of the day, anything anyone could finish by dark.

You log into work. There's a counter with digits in millions on the website. The work slack is taken up with a discussion about who's reading what and where they got it from. You ask about the second quarter analysis you were supposed to be working on. Half the chat says "not it!" and someone, who's not your direct supervisor or even in your department, DMs you to say, Take the day off. Don't worry about it. Look, your boss is talking about Red Dead Redemption in the work slack, it's fine. What would you do with a day off? Shopping, no, bad idea, don't think about what you need to get done, think about more like your bucket list. Travel, hmm, it's a bit of a free-for-all, yes if you go to the airport you can get a ticket for wherever the pilots feel like flying, they're not really charging much either, the computer system wants them to but, well, somebody figured out how to break ticketing a while back.

Bewildered you ask, why? what is going on?

It's Groundhog Day, says your coworker.

No, it's not, you say, it's September??

I can't do this part, says your coworker, I can't explain it to you, just, work doesn't matter today, do something fun.

And then they log off.

Your boss is indeed talking video games in the main channel. The alerts channel has been disabled. The company CEO just posted a skydiving video, which isn't that out of the ordinary, but in a work channel?

Experimentally, you pull up a news website. There's nothing but a large number posted. Is it--yes, it's the same large number that was on your work's front page.

You don't know what it means.

You don't feel like having fun.

Apparently, you are living in a time loop. Also apparently, you are the only person on Earth who DOESN'T remember the previous iterations. This is the first time you've experienced today; the rest of humanity has been stuck reliving today for years now.

[fancyfeathers]

Thinking about Yandere!Justice League having children with their darlings and perhaps those children aren’t too keen on their relationship with their parents…

Set in the universe of Young Justice.

Includes references to my Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling & Always Prey But Never A Bird

Clark’s daughter grew up in Smallville after Clark married his darling, living near the same house her father grew up in. She is one of many children, including Connor who her mother immediately took in as her own even if her father was still struggling with his feelings about his clone (though Connor rarely comes by unless Clark is gone, otherwise he is back with the team). Between herself and her siblings there is one major difference, she doesn’t have powers, or at least they have not come in yet.

She feels herself isolated from her siblings, especially when she sees one of her brothers practice and train with their father or when she gets pulled from the soccer team since it is apparently not safe when she sprained her ankle during a game but her dad has missed half her games of the season because of being Superman, Justice League business, or something with her siblings because of their powers that they are learning to control.

He is so protective but he is never even there.

She gets fed up when it gets near to her high school graduation and she is looking at colleges and talk to her parents about colleges and Clark is not sure about sending her off.

So she decides to leave on her own, pack a bag in the middle of the night while her dad is off planet and walks outside, walking across the empty field and she hears…

“Heading out?”

One of her siblings had caught onto her leaving, but they are not going to stop her, instead offering to take her anywhere she needs because she needs to leave this place to figure out who she really is.

Of course there will be panic when Clark returns home and finds one of his children is missing and she is completely untraceable, how is she untraceable? Clark can not even hear her heartbeat, she could be dead!

But she’s not…

Hal Jordan’s twins don’t really know their father super well because of when he is off planet as Green Lantern but he still wants to be a part of their lives, but their childhood is spent running around the Watchtower and being babysat by other league members or other Green Lantern Corps members while their dad is off planet, and their mother is tired of reading two very chaotic teenagers. Hal is like that one dad who does not fully understand that his children have been growing back, he’ll come into his teenage daughter’s room, sit on her bed and ask if she wants to go practice softball pitcher throws but he doesn’t know the last time his daughter played softball was in middle school. Or offering to take his son to the beach but his son cannot stand the feeling of sand on his feet or how the sand can ruin his books.

He remembers them like when they were babies and he made constructs from his ring of animals and toys for his children to play with and now when he picks up his daughter up from school he does not even know the names of her her friends.

But one thing that will never change is the fact that he will protect them no matter what. All it would take is for Hal to witness one incident, say he has to save his twins as Green Lantern, he makes the decision that at the end of the school year he is pulling them out and moving them into the Watchtower full time, besides they already stay there when he is off planet.

The two pick up on this when they overhear their parents arguing about it in the night, it is far past their bedtime so Hal doesn’t think either of them are listening but both of them listen in and all it takes is for their dad to go to a Justice League meeting and the two have packed their bags and jumped out the bathroom window.

Diana’s darling is definitely a woman and I think if they were to have a child they would have adopted an orphan, one who perhaps lost their family in an accident and Diana saves them, a young boy, a preteen at the oldest. He has a semi normal upbringing, he doesn’t really have any powers. He has never been to Themyscira because of he is a man, but Diana trains him anyway because it is important he knows how defend himself and his other adoptive mother when Diana is not around.

But the day comes where every little bird has to leave the nest and Diana agrees to let him to go to college nearby, especially after hearing about his intentions to become a lawyer. But his true intention to pursue such a career is because when he heard the stories from his other mother about how the members of the Justice League did certain things to get their partners and he felt horrified, he may not have been the one who done such a thing but he would be damned if he was not the one to try and repair it. Besides Diana has no reason to believe her baby boy is a liar, so he never even gets caught and forced to tell the truth.

It is at school where he meets someone not too different from himself and the two immediately hit it off, but the major thing between the two of them is that she is fast… really fast…

Barry Allen is close to his darling little girl, especially since she inherited his speed, they found that little fact out when she was practicing for track team tryouts and she suddenly found herself in Arizona, that was an interesting conversation when she called up her dad, a crying and confused mess, and before she could hang up Barry was already there, kneeling down in his suit and explaining everything to her.

Most kids get a car for their sixteenth birthday, she got super speed.

But another thing she got from her dad is his intelligence, it takes a lot to be a forensic scientist so Barry is hardly surprised when he little girl graduates early, he knows that she used her speed doing homework when he told her not to but sometimes the achievement outdoes the actions to get there.

Barry is willing to send her away from home for college, after all he is never far. But while she is at school she meets a boy, a few years older than her, and they become fast friends. She trusts him so she reveals her powers one night when they are hanging out around campus, her hand literally phasing through the wall with how fast it is going, but after that all turn is revealed and her world is shattered.

That boy was the son of Diana and he tells her everything, the truth about her own parents and she feels like she can never look her dad in the eye again. She doesn’t even feel like she can go home again, but when the end of the school year comes up they do have to move out of their dorm rooms and go home, but neither of them have the intention of doing that.

When Barry comes to help her move out, she is gone, most of her stuff is still there but she is gone. Then he hears the same from Diana about her son and everything clicks into place…

They found out the truth.

Zatara has another child besides Zatanna, though not biological. When Zatara’s first wife died and he kidnapped got remarried to his darling, she also had a child, a little boy from a former relationship. The boy may not be his biological child but that boy is his son, so just like Zatanna, he teaches him about the mystic arts.

The boy is practically raised by Zatara as his father, especially when his mother falls into stockholm syndrome, but that just makes the sting so much worse when Zatara puts on the Helmet of Fate to save Zatanna. Sure by the time it happened his son is basically an adult, but it still hurts when his sister comes back home and tells him and his mother what happened. So while Zatanna joins the team and leaves home he is left to struggle with his emotions about what happened.

The young man is cleaning up some of his father’s things to tuck away in boxes because his mother is to grief stricken to even look at them, but then he found some of Zatara’s old journals where he wrote about his darling, when he was too young to remember, and he feels absolutely horrified about what his step father did. He thinks about asking his mother about it but he does not want to bring up any sad memories she might have lingering, and he is not going to ask Zatanna, because his sister is still in pain after what her dad did to protect her.

So he decides it might be best for him to leave so he can make peace with a few things.

He packs up his bags and does not even tell his mother or Zatanna that he is leaving, just leaving a note on the kitchen counter. He travels the world, becoming a mostly self taught magician, besides the few things his father taught him when he was younger. He calls Zatanna or his mother every so often and every time his sister sounds more and more worried, but he reassures her that he is not on a team of superheroes like she is, he is just trying to figure out where he belongs…

But that promise does not last long once he finds out about the rest of the Justice League and their darlings and he is enraged…

Arthur Curry’s son is technically a prince, but really he feels captive in his own home. His father may be half human but his mother is fully human, and so their son is mostly human, so one can imagine how hard it is for him to breathe underwater without some form of assistance. Arthur tried to get his son adapted overtime, but it just became too hard as he got older and he had to rely on assistance to breathe underwater like his mother. He would be the heir to the throne if it was not for having young siblings who were stronger than he was, truly he is not jealous but he is disappointed that he is seen as so fragile for being born into an environment his body mostly does not want to be in. He is hardly let outside just because his body already struggles enough being so deep underwater… he wonders if it would be different on the surface, he’s never been up there before.

By some miracle he convinces his retainers to let him explore, just for an hour or two, but then an hour turns into a day and a day turns into weeks. He feels so much more alive on land, his lungs don’t feel heavy like they are struggling to breathe.

But the Prince of Atlantis going missing is going to cause more than a few people to panic. Including Arthur himself.

With more children of the Justice League going missing they get more worried and stressed and begin a mass search for them if it was not for a certain someone…

Now Bruce Wayne’s daughter I have written about before, she was the vigilante know as Songbird in Gotham, she ran away years ago and in this universe when everything was said and done she went off all on her own, sure she based herself off Black Canary, but with most of the league like this she wants nothing to do with it.

She was the first one to run away from home and not being caught by the Batman is certainly a feat but she is certainly her father’s daughter, so when she hears the news about some of the children of Justice League members going missing because she definitely did not hack their server communications. So she finds each child of the Justice League and she helps them out, because to be honest they all want the same thing.

Setting up a place for everyone to stay safely after tracking them down one by one, she even went all the way to Paris to find Zatara’s son to convince him because he was doing a show there.

So she makes lead lined shirts for little Miss Supergirl so she cannot be found via powers. Then it gets get worse when she does finally get powers and being half Kryptonian hits her hard, especially when she has no one around to teach her how to control them, well almost no one. Luckily she has someone in her corner, who better to teach her than the daughter of the Batman who taught herself how to be a vigilante, it should not be that hard.

Each one wants to either help one of their parents or they straight up are doing this out spite. But trying to piece together a team of the heroes who have next to no idea what they are going to do. But becoming a team to spite their parents turned into them basically stopping villains before their parents do.

Extra things

I love the idea of Clark’s and Bruce’s daughters and Diana’s son be best friends who have never met, like the second the meet each other they just know that they are inseparable. The self trained vigilante, the boy raised by an Amazon, and the half Kryptonian girl. Then the training sessions and teaching Clark’s daughter how to control her newly gained powers almost always turns into just chatting and some sort of shenanigans.

I don’t know why but something about Zatara’s son gaining powers kind of like the Scarlet Witch from the MCU just makes sense to me. Also the idea of Doctor Fate having slight, or heavy, protective tendencies over him while Zatara is the host.

Also I did not put them down here but I also had ideas for Green Arrow’s & Black Canary’s daughter because they would definitely share a darling, and I might write a second part for them and a few others.

Then I also thought about Martian Manhunter and his darling having an adoptive daughter because she is a meta human with telepathic abilities, but then I got reminded of Charles Xavier and thinking that she would be just to similar and now that I am finishing up this post I don’t hate that idea.

[utilitycaster]

For a campaign that was supposed to have higher stakes I gotta say it doesn’t feel like they ever showed up. There wasn’t any finding out for any of the fucking around. Just, I don’t know what happened that BH ended up with plot armor a mile thick but it just feels bad.

What was the point of any of it, if none of it mattered, and no one had to deal with the consequences of their actions?

Yeah again it's like, a solid 90% of the results are fine-to-great actually but almost none of it feels like it followed or was earned. If I may I think this is the greatest condemnation of the oft-repeated defense of "but it's improv." Improv is about picking up what your partners are putting down. Improv is about seeing their choice and saying "yes, and". It feels like throughout this campaign a choice would be made (far less often than they should have been, but sometimes choices were made at least) and the response was not "yes, and" but "ok, well" or "anyway, then." And frustratingly a lot of it was Matt setting up the scene and then "ok, well" or "anyway, then"-ing himself: The Ruby Vanguard has a poison that prevents healing and resurrection! And then instead of "yes, and that means going up against the Vanguard requires a careful strategy because they can permanently kill you and you only have a few uses of the antidote" the improv inevitably was "ok, well, they don't use it when they attack Bells Hells." And it felt like that was the whole campaign - not even with the characters not dying but just, them being entitled and unpleasant and everyone kind of being like "anyway, then people are irritated as they have been in the past 5 encounters with you but they still let this go forward."