#justice for the Guide girlies

[resident-sean-expert]

What kills me is that the wwdits writers really decided to make the Guide a main character, just to give all the development to SEAN

I mean, good for me, but I feel for the Guide girlies yk

Sean was introduced around the same time as the Guide, but with the difference that at the end, he managed to create a meaningful relationship (with Laszlo)

We got undeniable character development for him over the seasons, the hospital scene from last ep officially adding depth to his character

Even Charmaine received more development in one episode than the Guide did in this entire fucking season

The Guide has not even been mentioned in a single ep synopsis in contrast to Sean who just had two episodes entirely focused on him (The Railroad + March Madness)

I don't know where I'm going with this post, but I'm dumbfounded, what was the point of including the Guide in the intro and photoshoots then ?

[yourstrqly]

✰ BABY DADDY, L. HAMILTON

[ preview ] to lewis and yours excitement you're finally pregnant, causing not only happiness but also a slightly feral Lewis because of your body changes.

[ tw ] smut, pregnant reader (= sex whilst pregnant (honestly made me slightly uncomfortable but requested), soft sex, mention of jealousy + possessiveness on Lewis part, unprotected sex, fem oral, missionary, begging, slight praise kink

[ tags ] @e-nonsense for giving me the idea and this request 🖤 hope i did it justice and I might write a cute little smau for it too, just because I love soft lewis and I'm slowly converting to a lewis girly (pls send more requests for him or other drivers!!)

. previous |minors do not read | masterlist .

It's been quite a few months of free practice as Lewis likes to call it, before you finally held the white plastic stick in your hand with the word positive blinking on the screen, causing your man to tear up because of the excitement and relief that had rushed through his body. He had embraced you, whispering sweet promises of the journey that would begin now, telling you of plans before the baby arrives. You reduced working hours, enjoying the soft glow lulling you into motherhood.

It's a beautiful thing to witness yourself turning into soon to be parents and it's a whole lot of new experiences like renovating the guest room to fit it into your child's room, something that blesses you often with a shirtless sweaty Lewis building the furniture together. Meanwhile you sit in one corner of the room with a snack on the moss green armchair Kevin Magnussen's wife recommended you, gazing at the muscles flex as he moves around.

Another trait of Lewis shines brightly — he detests leaving your side, would rather choose to sit out a race than leave you all alone back in England, even though his mums as well as yours are there for you.

He also hates the amount of attention you get since falling pregnant; everyone likes to comment on you, friends like to touch your stomach as if his child would react to their touch — Lewis doesn't let go of you, having you close, almost hidden behind his massive build and pulls you away when people get to close to his liking.

And last but not least, it's impossible for him to keep his hands off your body, especially when your stomach shows, your breasts are fuller and the face slightly chubbier. "You're too stunning to resits, pretty girl", he'll mutter while pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, arms slung around your hips.

Whenever he's home you'd be woken up by his gentle whispering, telling your child of crazy yet child friendly memories around the track or of you, nuzzling his nose to your bump and kiss the faint strechmarks.

As of right now Lewis impatiently waits for your family to leave, his hands itching to touch you. The love your guests give you are making you glow and giddy, even more so than the first half of the week with only him, causing the ugly feeling of jealousy to strike within him. He knows he shouldn't feel like this but he wants to be your sun, not one of many stars shining on you.

Jealousy is a horrible emotion.

A delightful sigh escapes him as you hug your sibling goodbye before closing the door and falling right in his awaiting arms, bump pressing against his abdomen. Its innocent, you just want to feel his warmth, through your man has other plans and slowly drops his hands from your the small of your back to your perky ass, pulling the cheeks apart just to let them jiggle, which results in you snickering.

"You're horny again, Lew?", you sweetly ask, hands wandering to his braids, tugging them.

He groans and you feel him getting hard. "You know I can never not touch you. Making me all hot and bothered, specially like this, so full of me." His tone holds honesty and leaves no room for anything other than his endless love he showers you in as he guides you down the hallway and into your shared bedroom, where he clicks the lights on. He wants to see you when you take his cock and make a mess on it.

"I'm a lucky bastard, if not the luckiest, having you, the most drop deep gorgeous woman carrying my baby and to make love to you as long as you let me", he husks, "to kiss those lips, to touch your beautiful body."

He grabs the hem of your cute summer dress and then your underwear, gently removing both clothing articles from your body to see all of you. You're beautiful like this, naked and natural, blushing under the confession he has said and the avoiding of eye contact because he knows you're shy now.

"Lay down for me and spread those legs, yeah?", he whispers, still in awe of you.

You do as he says, body tingling as his eyes roam freely over you, taking you in, while taking his clothes off. Then he stags up to you, slothing between your legs and press a butterfly kiss on your sensitive pussy that has you whimper desperately. A hand of yours curls in his hair and you look down at Lewis, a blissful expression on his face as he has his eyes closed and his nose nugging your clit.

He's fully focused on making out with your pussy, pressing open mouthed kisses and slurping the juices like its his last time. Hands roam your body until your legs close around him, and he pulls them apart, holding them up as far as possible with your bump — it's not that big but can get in the way of things.

"So beautiful and all mine." His hot breath faws over your wet cunt that flutters around nothing. "You're so needy, want to have a finger in you, don't you, pretty girl?" You prob yourself on the elbows, gaze at him to already find him looking at you — there's a smug smirk on his wet covered lip and he waits for your answer. "I— I need your cock Lew", you sob,"please don't tease me, fuck me."

The sobbing is music to his ears. "Nah, baby, beg some more. Ain't gonna fuck you with my cock if you're not behaving correctly, you know that." Your boyfriend moves over you, elbows resting on either side of your head as he leans down to crash his lips on yours. Instantly you open your mouth to let his tongue glide in and interweave your hands with him. Kissing him itself is sloppy and breathtaking, intense even because he re-focus all your senses on the feeling of his tongue brushing against yours and plush lips moving sensually. A loud whine fills the space when he breaks the kiss. "Beg for me, pretty girl, be good f'me."

"Please. . please fuck me", you cry out, "Want your cock inside of me, please."

Lewis raises his eyebrows. "Don't you think you forgot something?"

You gulp. "Sir, please fuck me. I'm so so wet for you."

"That's better", is all Lewis says before you feel him rubbing his thick tip along the slit of your slick cunt and hear him groan. "Someone is just as horny as me, huh? Have you been wet all day, pretty girl?"

A loud incoherent moan slips from your lips when Lewis bullies his length past your tightness, grinding his hips as he's fully sheated between your gummy walls. "Can't talk to me anymore? Already gone, huh?" Lewd squelching are heard when he pulls out till only an inch is in you, and then he trusts, first one slow, the second one a bit rougher, pace growing faster as your begging cries echo through the bedroom. He grabs your shaking legs, laying them on his left shoulder to get a deeper access to your wetness.

Meanwhile your eyes fill with tears of pleasure, abdomen tightening and toes curl, nearing the edge. Lewis knows your body inside out, and dips a finger between your lips. You suck on his thumb, tongue tracing the tip as if it is his cock. But before you can register what comes next, he pulls his thumb out and smooth it on your clit, circling to push you to the orgasm.

Moaning uncontrollably, your back arches off the bed as the pleasure crushes you, shine glazes over your eyes and you're a goner. Through the high, long dick still slides into you despite the come flowing out on either side, making Lewis grunt. He's much closer than expected, having leaned over again — he's now kissing your tears tenderly away, you're feeling giddy. "Such a pretty girl", he groans, his own high peeking.

You cling to him as you both come down the high, peppering you with kisses and praise. It has you glow in his strong arms, and you're sure there's nothing better than this — building a family with the man you love beyond the stars.

[f0rlorn]

kingdom come → treech

treech!tbosas x reader

notes → in which your lover gets ripped away from you, and you’re left with mere memories, a promise, and a locket. feminine intended reader. i am a district seven girly FOR LIFEEE. when i was making a plan for a cato fic on wattpad, reader was ofc from seven ✨

warnings → me giving characters angst alert part two!!! not edited & uploaded via iphone

     “treech!” you giggled as you chased him in the woods you called your backyard. you heard him laugh as he leapt over a stream. attempting to follow him, you slipped, accidentally landing in the shallow water. luckily, you had your rain boots on. the red rain boots with hand painted black polk a dots that reminded you of ladybugs. on the other hand, your ruffly dress was not so lucky, soaked with water, dirt crawling at the hems. treech whipped around at the sound of you splashing, and offered a hand to help you up. you giggled as you took his hand. “thank you, my knight.” you teased, beginning to walk back to your home.

     “anything for m’lady!” treech declared, raising his arm triumphantly. your youth was filled with heartwarming moments like this. days spent playing with treech in the woods when the two of you were kids. and when you grew into your teenage years, long, meaningful conversations filled with laughter and secrets with each other after treech finished working. you had known treech your whole life, best friends for fifteen years and lovers for three, he was a part of you. 

     today, the day of the reaping, your mother had laid out an old striped dress of hers. the once colorful stripes had faded into something dreary, but the dress fit you like a glove. it was common knowledge in the districts that children should dress nice for the reaping. not because it was some momentous occasion, but because what they wear then might be the last thing they wear ever. dressing them up for their funerals, a devastating truth. treech met you outside, and he tilted his hat to you when you stepped out of the door. 

     “m’lady,” he greeted, providing his arm for you to latch onto. “well don’t you look ravishing,” he mused, and you curtsied at his compliment, before looping your arm through his. you were treech’s pride and joy and he made sure to treat you as such. the boy was more than happy to show you off, parading you around the streets of seven. the two of you chatted lightly about the days events as he guided you to the town’s square, located a mile and half from your house. eventually you had to part ways with him, but not before you left a quick peck on the cheek. he wore the kiss on his face boastfully as he joined the group of boys to your left. you smiled, finding your own place in the crowd of girls. the process went as normal, a few small announcements made before the female tribute was reaped. her name was lamina, a beautiful tragedy wrapped in a vest, but not anyone you recognized.

     your breath hitched as they called for the male tribute. it had happened so fast. you had never been this overwhelmed. they called treech’s name. your treech. you allowed yourself to hyperventilate for a few moments before catching sight of the boy slowly walking towards the front of the hall of justice. district seven, being one of the largest districts, had thousands of kids piled into the town square, separated by gender. out of the entire population of seven’s youth, it never occurred to you that your boyfriend could be the unlucky victim to be reaped. 

     struggling to control your breathing, you leaped into action, shoving your way through the crowd of girls to the pathway down the middle of the block. treech, still in shock, made his way down said pathway rather hesitantly, as if in disbelief that he had really been reaped. his eyes were scanning the crowd as he passed, stopping for a moment as he met yours. in an instant, you reached forward and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug before any nearby peacekeeper could intervene.

     “i love you, treech. i love you, i love you, i love you!” you repeated, sobbing into his jacket. his arms wrapped around you tightly, not wanting to let go.

     “i’ll win this, y/n, for you. i’ll see you soon, it’ll only be a couple days, just you wait.” he mumbled his promise to you. you pulled apart, woefully wiping away the lipstick mark on his face, cleaning him up for the cameras. there was no doubt that the entirety of the capital was watching you now. what must they think of the spectacle you had created? were they intrigued? disgusted? at this point, the peacekeepers had made their way to him, dragging him onstage.

     “treech!” you objected, reaching out for him. another peacekeeper lightly knocked you backwards, a pitiful expression adorning his face. the girls nearby, some you recognized and some strangers, held the same expression. none spoke, just stared at you. keeping your eyes on the ground, you creeped back to your spot in the crowd. soon enough, peacekeepers were hauling your boyfriend into the hall, and more were beginning to clear the square, forcing you to make your way back to your place of residence. unbeknownst to you, treech had slipped a token in the pocket of your dress before he was pulled away. it wasn’t until halfway through your agonizing, lonely trek back home that you noticed it. it was a dainty, wooden heart shaped locket. patterns had been intricately carved into the surface, no doubt by the careful hands of your loving treech. you traced the patterns with the pads of your fingers, tears staining the wooden block. 

     you clutched the locket, a newfound hope seeping into you, as you held onto the promise that he would win. for you.

[leikeliscomet]

A Brief Look at Stem(me) History

Wanted to know more about Black lesbian identities and I couldn't find a lot on Tumblr or Twitter so I did some research on stem/stemme myself. I'm not involved in queer discourse like that but I've noticed stemme being compared with futch both positively an negatively. The term "futch" is a mash up of butch and femme and the OG Futch Scale was posted 17th February 2011. In 2015, it got posted to Tumblr and became a meme, then an accidental "guide" on lesbian identity. Regardless of stances pro-futch or anti-futch I wanted to find info on stem/stemme as a Black lesbian identity for gender and gender expression. The modern definition of a stem/stemme is a Black lesbian whose gender expression and mannerisms fall between stud and femme. I've managed to find definitions not only supporting this but also definitions predating the futch scale, both pre and post meme version:

"Stem – A person whose gender expression falls somewhere between a stud and a femme.  (See also ‘Femme’ and ‘Stud’.)" Stud is defined as "An African-American and/or Latina masculine lesbian.  Also known as ‘butch’ or ‘aggressive’." (John Jay College of Criminal Justice LGBTQ+ Terminology, Eli R. Green, 2003-2004)

"Stemm A stemm is a gay/lesbian female who dresses like a guy, and dresses like a girl. Person 1: Look at that girl, she looks like a dude with all those guy clothes on, she has to be a stud Person 2: Well she was wearing girly clothes yesterday, so I thought she was a femm Person 3: Actually she's a stemm, she's wears boy clothes sometimes, and girl clothes other times" (Urban Dictionary definition of Stemm by user JenniferHill, November 8th 2009)

"A lesbian, who identifies as a Stemme, retains traits from both Femme and Stud/ Butch lesbians. Stemmes are in the center of the lesbian spectrum of classification and identities. Therefore, it is considered natural or common for Stemme lesbians to share the same behaviors as women of two diverse identity groups. Often times, the Stemme identity is viewed as the “transitional” stage of lesbianism, when a lesbian woman goes from being a Femme to a Stud/ Butch, or (on rear occasions) from a Stud/ Butch to a Femme... *In this blog the characteristic and behavioral difference between a Femme and a Stud is conjoined. The way a Femme or a Stud dresses is not the only way she can be identified. They can also be distinguished by their attitudes, actions and the way they interact with other people. A Stemme is the in-between identity of a Stud and Femme. She is apart of both groups and her identity is subject to change at anytime. A Stemme identity is often referred to as the transitional stage; however, some lesbian women remain a Stemme because they enjoy representing male and female dominance." (Lesbian Identity: Stemme, Nell S., 6th Nov 2009)

"'one who could switch up one day, she could be a femme and other occasions dress like she has a li’l hood, li’l ghetto inside her; a stemme –  part femme part stud a tomboy'" (STORY OF INTEREST: Lesbian Speaks Out, Dominica News Online, April 12th 2010)

"Stemmes presented themselves one day as femme and another day as stud; as such, they were visibly unrecognisable unless they divulged their gender identity. Stemmes expose the amorphous nature of gender identity and are invisible – silenced, ostracised or prescribed a gender identity. Many participants refused to recognise that stemmes existed and instead described them as confused. As Shane (age 22) admitted: ‘Sometimes they [studs and femmes] think that we’re confused. We don’t know what we want to be.’ Stemmes show that personal identity claims were often at odds with community perceptions of identity." (Good gay females and babies' daddies: Black lesbian community norms and the acceptability of pregnancy, Sarah J. Reed, Robin Lin Miller, Maria T. Valenti & Tina M. Timm, 21st April 2011)

"Stem, described as a cross between or combination of stud and femme, is a label that was used to refer to a lesbian that presented both masculine and feminine traits and characteristics. Short Dawg said, 'A stem, for me, is a little mixture of a lot of different things. One day you can be super feminine, and the next day you can be not so feminine.'" (Labelling, Butch, Femme Dyke Or Lipstick, Aren't All Lesbians The Same?: An Exploration Of Labels And "Looks" Among Lesbians In The U.S. South, Danielle Kerr, 2013)

Videos

Who has it harder in the world of lesbians? [studs? stems? or fems?}, iRoqStarStemme, 10th Jan 2011

WTH is a STEM??, AmbersCloset, 1st Feb 2013

The Black Lesbian Handbook: The Stem, Channel 4, 9th Feb 2015

There's a lot more I found and I'll post each article and video separately because they all go into more detail but tl;dr;

Stem(me) is an identity coined by Black lesbian spaces

Stem(me) mainly follows stud/femme dynamics rather than butch/femme (but can reference it)

Stem(me) predates the futch scale meme

Stem(me) is defined by clothing but also behaviours, so it can be a form of Black gender expression or gender itself

[rgr-pop]

TIME SENSITIVE ACTION REQUEST!!: can you my beautiful artists/clever people on tumblr make us some abortion button designs this weekend? To sell to raise money for Mountain Access Brigade, a collective of abortion doulas funding access to abortion in east tennessee?

I’m tabling a week from today at Stoopfest in Lansing, which will be headlined this year by Jhariah, R.A.P Ferreira, Weakened Friends, and Direct Hit!. I’m tabling with the Lansing DSA Women’s Section (working title) as well as a coalition of other women organizing with leftist orgs in Lansing (we don’t have a name yet but we call them “the girlies”). We’re looking to hit $5k on our fundraiser by the end of the month, but equally importantly, I’m tabling to meet people who want to plug into projects we’re getting off the ground to organize to defeat transphobic homophobic and anti-abortion power in Lansing, especially (my baby pet project if you know me irl!) launching our campaign to chase out and shut down the anti-abortion fake clinics in the city.

Here’s our fundraising page, you can donate and share (please!) but you should also read it to get a sense of how we talk about our vision:

https://fund.nnaf.org/team/565397

So I need YOU to design abortion loving buttons for me to make to sell for the fundraiser and start conversations that connect people :). Please help lol. The vibe is queer, mutual aidy, creative! Many of the girls I’m going with are harm reduction activists and passionate about self management and self controlled healthcare.

We have a lot of fun/funny ones made already but we need more sweet/straightforward ones that inspire people and ground the sloganing in our principles. Some wording you can use in your designs (but please feel free to think of others)/some jumping off points/guidance:

- abortion is magic

- abortion access (or just access) saves lives

- we use the term “reproductive freedom” as a matter of practice (pro-choice and reproductive justice are okay, but we love this one)

- “bodily autonomy” is another one we orient around

- pro “repro worker” slogans (“i <3 repro workers” always good)

- “i fund abortion”

- tying in safer sex slogans (would love something like this in an 80s/90s safe sex campaign style)

- harm reduction/mutual aid framing (would looove some good ideas here)

- i REALLY want to come with something about bisexual women being statistically most likely to have an abortion (one of my favorite communist conversation starters irl) - in general messages about queer people getting abortions is a vibe!

- we don’t use “women” when referring to who gets abortions but feminist messaging is great. I’d stay away from body parts as imagery

- the classic, “i love abortion”

- slogan-free imagery that supports the vibe

- Y’allidarity :):):)

- This line from a lead organizer with DSA’s Trans Rights and Bodily Autonomy Campaign has stuck with me as a guide, it really gets at the core of this work for me: “In a political climate characterized by fear and isolation, our voice is steady, loving, direct, and shows courage in our democratic socialist convictions.”

HOW CAN YOU HELP?

- Make me some designs on a 2.25 inch circle button template (im a design idiot and need help) in whatever file format and give me permission to print them and turn them into buttons to sell for the fundraiser. THEY DONT HAVE TO BE AMAZING LOOOKING! email me at rikki.g.reynolds@gmail.com

- reply to this post with specific wording ideas if the above inspires you!

- share this post :) and hit up your designer friends who have time this weekend! abortion fund-a-thon is about making hard asks of your friends who can help, and you’ll be glad you did.

- if you want to help promote this fundraiser on your own socials or somewhere else, feel free but you can also dm me for ideas!

Sorry for the last minute (this is why I’m really calling on tumblr GOATs), but I would loooooove to make buttons next MONDAY or possibly as late as Wednesday— I’ll edit this post when I know for sure. It’s an emergency! But you’ll be saving lives!

What can I do for you?

If you ask, I can post pictures on twitter and tag you if you want some traffic (some of our posts get a little traffic). I can PROBABLY also send you a finished button of your design after fund a thon season (May) is over but I don’t want to make that promise for certain yet.

ty!!!

[lightwing-s]

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 | 𝐭. 𝐝.

pairing: tim drake x female!reader warnings: some swearing, canon usual violence, needles word count: 2,6k summary: nobody in their sane mind goes out to a park in gotham at fucking midnight, nobody except you.

a/n: so, I'm not used to writing for tim, so I hope this comes out okay for my tim girlies and that I do him any justice ^^ also, if anyone is interested in the playlist mentioned, you can check it out here and listen to it while reading this piece.

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

The night was a mess. Break ins, shooting, explosions, man-bats running around, and it was only midnight. Tim was already exhausted by that point, but there was still work to be done.

Bruce had members of the family scattered around town to get each and every single one of their problems tackled as quickly as possible. Thus, Tim was now chasing down a small group of man-bats that escaped from the attack on the financial district of Gotham and were now heading up towards the East End.

He struggled to keep them out of the crowded areas. It was friday night, so there were extra people out on the streets even with all the chaos going on around town. Some people just didn’t care. So, doing as best as he could, he managed to guide the creatures through a dark alley and send them to a probably empty park, a place where he could fight them without risking anybody’s safety along the way.

Far from defeating evil monsters, you, on the other hand, had great plans for you Friday night: laying in bed and watching silly 2000s rom coms with your roommate and best friend. Having to overstay at work once again, the only thing between you and your bed right now was a five kilometer walk through the streets and a dark park that would have scared you if you did not take this route every night of the week. Guess you’re used to it.

Putting on your headphones and setting the volume to the max, your mind shut off from your surroundings and allowed you to walk the path in peace. Chumbawama’s Tubthumping was playing loud in your ears as you dance-walked your way home. 

Music had that power over you. The power to take your mind away from anything. Every time you had an anxiety attack, or when things just started getting complicated in life, be it with school, work or your family, hiding behind a beat was your favorite solution to send the worries away. That’s why, the day you first walked your path home from your new job, playing your favorite childhood movie soundtrack, HSM, and singing it word by word, you managed to get home without crumbling to anxiety. So, it became your ritual, and like that you ended your week nights.

Behind you on your walk, though, things were not so simple.

Fighting off the man-bats with a single syringe of the antidote was not a clever idea, but it would have to do. At least, he only had three more to fight. With his grappling gun, he aimed at one of their wings, hitting it at first try and pulling it down with much strength. Now, standing on top of it, he stapled its wings down while worrying about the two others who were now giving him their undisputed attention. Fending them off with, basically, one hand, he turned to the trapped one and injected five milliliters of the solution, seeing it agonize in pain, but in no time it was back to being human.

One of the other two, without patience, grabbed at the arm he held the syringe, almost managing to make Tim drop it, but he was quick to change hands and, with his free one, injected it on the leg, making it fall from the sky immediately, carrying him along the way. He fell with a thud, already feeling the pain streaming from his shoulder. Laying there on the floor, he tried to catch his breath, but there was no time for rest. He needed to get the last one.

Stooding up, Tim looked at the syringe still safe in his hand, telling him there was around ten milliliters left of the antidote, enough to knock it down. However, looking up in search of the last survivor, he couldn’t find it anywhere. Where had it gone to? The man-bats were a boisterous bunch, screeching all the time and with heavy wings that announced their incoming from a mile radius. So how did this one escape without Tim noticing?

Being alone in the park, a silence soon took over. But that was short lived. In his search for the damned creature, Tim found out he wasn’t as alone in the park as he thought. 

Just further away from him, bouncing its heads and skipping down the stone road, was a girl. Headphones on, she didn’t seem to notice the commotion going on behind her, and for some reason, that had Tim infuriated. People’s carelessness these days were doing that to him, as if they acted like they really wanted to die. What the fuck!

Then, that’s when he found it. Bright red eyes hiding inside a bush right in front where the girl was walking through, ready to catch flight in her direction. Tim’s legs were already burning, but the way he sped up and ran to try and stop the thing from doing whatever it was in its mind, made the sensation go away with the built up adrenaline. He reached the monster before it could move too close, jumping at its back, grabbing it and dropping to the floor. Tim had his arm locked on its neck, giving it a rear naked choke, taking its breath slowly and making it lose its strength. Now, with ease, he inserted the syringe on its neck, injecting all that was left of the antidote. 

“Every time that I get the feeling. You give me something to believe in. Every time that I got you near me…” he listened to the words of Atomic Kitten coming out of her mouth, while he waited for the effects of the antidote to show up.

Were they fucking singing? Tim thought, incredulous. How on Earth did they not hear them fighting RIGHT. BEHIND. HER BACK?   

The man-bat’s body started quivering, and soon his bat claws were replaced with human fingers and, like a real sized doll, fell onto Tim’s body like jelly. Releasing his arm from its neck and bending sideways to let the man drop beside him, Tim finally could take a break. There on the ground, he pretended to not feel any pain, or any burn, and allowed himself a few moments of rest. But the sound of the steps wouldn’t let him.

Getting up on his knees, Tim took a moment to catch his breath before angrily staring at the person still unbothered walking away from him. 

You didn’t need much to get lost in the music, easily accomplishing it within a few seconds of any of your favorite songs. In those few seconds, everything around you seemed to disappear little by little, as you soon immersed yourself into a dream world, much like a music video, and all that was around you could not be listened to. But when an angry looking boy wearing a costume you’d easily recognize under a normal state of mind, jumps in front of you, it’s kind of hard to ignore.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me that you didn’t hear a single thing going on behind you!” he screamed at you, frustration apparent in each word. 

Startled, you could only reply with a scream, not recognizing Gotham's vigilante, and your favorite of all of them. You tried to run, but tripping on your own legs, you fell to the ground on your butt, loud music still blasting through your headphones but they now laid on your lap.

When he realized what he had done, he walked to you and extended his hand for you to grab, and with ease he lift you up from where you were. This time, while standing there in front of you, he was able to really see your face. Like, every single detail. You were stunning. So now, he felt the warmth climbing up his neck and cheeks out of the embarrassment of scaring you — and also from staring for too long. The adrenaline was still too high in his system at that point, forcing him to do things with thinking twice.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concerned. With a shake of your head and the sight of your opened hands showing him no bruises, he sights in relief.

“I guess I’ll just have a really sore butt tomorrow.” you joke, whilst still telling the truth. Your butt was definitely going to hurt tomorrow. With your answer, you took a smile from the masked boy, the apples of his cheeks rising with the action, and the bruise on his right one becoming evident. “You’re hurt.” you point out, putting your finger on your own cheek for him to find the bruise on his, taking out of it a bit of blood.

“Man-bats. I can’t think of anything worse.” he replies with a grunt. You finally look around, to where he had come from earlier and where you assumed his battle had happened. There was a man passed out a couple meters from where you stood, and you could see others further back. Your stomach fell, sensing the disaster that could have happened to you if it wasn’t for Red Robin.

“Here!” you fished inside your bag for that first aid kid your friend always insisted you have with you, taking out of it, and expecting to be embarrassed as soon as you show it to him, a Robin edition band-aid, tainted in green, red and yellow, and with a large R drawn into it. You show it to him, waiting for him to put it on. However, he leans his face closer to you, telling you silently to put it yourself. Not knowing how to react, your hands start to shake and you can barely take off the plastic protecting the bandage. 

His cheek was warm, but wet at the touch. It must be sweat from all the fighting, you thought. Looking up, his hair was also all wet, small droplets falling down his sides. Placing the band-aid carefully, you find yourself awkwardly close to your favorite vigilante. His masked eye didn’t show you its real color, but never left your, making your cheeks grow as red as his. Unknowingly, your fingers lingered in his face for longer than needed, caressing the place where his wound was now hidden. Finally paying attention to your actions, you retract your hands to your sides.

Now, facing each other with a much more comfortable distance, you get to admire his face, even if partially hidden, and his pretty smile spread once more on his lips. The themed band-aid actually complemented well his outfit, and the funny way he stood there with his arms on his hips. Tim also analyzed everything about you, from your smile you didn’t allow out but decorated your face either way, the way you looked everywhere but him once your eyes met again, and the curious phone case you had in your hand. It was a Robin one.

“I’m sorry.” he finally apologizes, messing up the hair at the nape of his neck. You want to tell him not to worry, but he cuts you to say: “It’s just been pretty… Busy night.” 

“So I’ve heard.”

“And you still decided to walk alone through an empty park at… eight past midnight?” he questioned, but his tone was light, not judgemental, almost a joke. 

“It’s my only way home. I have to take it every day. With time you grow used to it.” you informed him with a laugh, 

“And you’re not afraid?” he asked you one more time. With your shrug, you tried to tell him you were okay with that, when in fact, deep down, you knew with everyday before the clock ticked for your shift to end, the anxiety and the fear consumed your body and only wore out when you got to your street and Mr. Johnson could be seen in your building’s front door. Noticing your expression of uncertainty, he read between your lines and understood you perfectly.

“I can walk you home.” he offered.

“I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” you shook your head. “Besides, I think Batman might need your help.”

And as if the world could sense his desire, Oracle’s voice sounded in his ear telling him Superman was strolling around and decided to give the city some help.

“It’s been taken care off.” he told you, and signaled you to show him the way.

Walking side by side, you didn’t say anything for a while, until he curiously asked you what it was you were listening to that stopped you from hearing the lousy men-bats and all that fight.

“It’s a random playlist I found on YouTube, but I fucking love it. I can’t stop listening to it for days.” 

“Can I hear it too?”

“I only have one headphone, but…” you took it from where you had placed it in your bag and put it around your neck. Taking your phone and opening it again on that same playlist, you set the volume to the highest. “We can listen to it like this?”

Throwing him an awkward smile, he leans in closer. Your shoulders are touching and you swear you can feel his breath on your neck.

“Are you an Atomic Kitten fan?”

“Not really, but I like expanding my horizons.”

“Then I think you’d really like Vicenzo. He owns a small store, where he sells old records. He recommends some of the best music, you should check it out.”

“You should take me there sometime.” you tell him. 

If only I could, he thinks, regretting ever coming to you as Robin, and not simply Tim.

“I’m kind of busy a lot.” he tries to explain, and you notice the mistake you’ve made.

“I-I know. That was stupid. I know you’re busy.” letting your hair hide your face from him, you want to bury yourself down in a hole and never come out. Only you to think Robin himself would want to take you out in his off duty hours.

“At what time do you leave work?” Tim asks.

“Around 11h30. Why?” you reply, confused.

“I’ll bring you a disk tomorrow.”

“What?”

“I’m walking you home again, if you don’t mind.” he asks, begging to say yes and letting him see you again.

“I’d love it.” you whisper.

The rest of the way, you two talked about your music taste, the concerts you attended. You asked him about his costume, was it really as tight as it looked? Nightwing’s looked like it could rip at any moment. His was actually fine, it dressed him well, you told him, getting red once more.

By the end of the walk, Tim didn’t want to leave when you told him you had reached your street.

“So, this is it for me.” you told him, as you arrived at a crosswalk. Just across the street from where you stood was a man apparently  guarding the door.

“Oh.” was all he managed to say. Looking down, he hadn’t paid attention to it, but your hands were awfully close, so he touched your finger with his, playing with them, and, eventually, lacing them together. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you.” you went to kiss him goodbye. Just a peck on his cheek, you had just met him. But just as you, he went for the cheek kiss as well, and so your lips met. You two pulled away, but the magnetic field that seemed to bring you together all night was too strong to resist, and he leaned down to you, holding your neck, and kissing you again.

His lips were wet, and his tongue graciously slid into your mouth, playing with yours. Your eyes were closed, and just like a song, he took you away from your reality, inserting you into your own, where only you two existed. 

Stepping away for breath, still with his hands on your neck, he says.

“See you at 11h.”

“How can I pay you for this? Not the kiss I mean.” you correct yourself. With a laugh he replies, already running off to wherever it is Batman may need him next.

“Bring me some coffee.”

[dlairlonia]

how do you see your manifestations as of now? A GENERAL, TAROT READING 𓇼 by Lonia 𓇼 10823

ෆ˚⋆୨୧⋆˚ෆ No license to love, insurance to hold

A GENERAL, PICK-A-CARD (PHOTO) READING ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ As a Tarot reader passing information onto you, I hereby pass on the responsibility to you, the reader, the authority to manage your every wellbeing as a human being after taking in information (Tarot reading) that declares to be for entertainment purposes only. This is a note that I am not responsible for anything except for what I type and upload for the public to see. If you have any concerns with what I have published, please message me privately. - Lonia

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷˚ ༘✶

... pile 1 🌸🍀✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

You see your manifestations as truly pleasant, good in investing long term. However, there is this feeling of obsecurity; of uncertainy and/or insecurity. This manifestation, as I see it, is splitting your identity apart and it may help you, however you look at it----although does it really do justice? Think but not lavishly with this. The way you apply the feeling of knowing you have it, which is the main goal, do you do it or do you focus on the feeling of something else? I know you are in the right path, your guides know this, PLEASE kindly redirect yourself to making the visions all about your feelings. To sum it up, most of you are most likely staying in this state of lack.

(I am not confessing to be a states girlie, it is just the focal point of manifestation that FEELING is the secret. Embody that 'I AM'. It is what YOU allow that persists.)

Let us say, or assume that you are manifesting refinement most aspects in your life. Money, love, desired body and face all-in-one; this desire makes you feel good. It makes you feel pleasant. There is moments that is baffling or truly confusing. I feel you are confused. When I try to make up visions of you, pile 1, I feel us both confused. Some of you may not know what you want, this creates a lack of stability and balance, this hurts you deeply. I will not swim in the ocean deeper as I sense it is more of a personal 'life' problem than having the struggle to choose what to manifest in an inclination, just to fancy, or a mere whim.

I, as well, just have to say that this is an incredibly reflective pile that chooses to FEEL. Instead of feeling the worse, why not the one that makes you truly spark? My darlings, take control of your own life and remember to be kind as equally as to have a nerve. Retire what perpetuates harm in you or does not benefit you and never take a single damned cent out of that pension. Be cautious, darlings.

LOVE U. Lonia.

... pile 2 🌸🍀✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

You are doing a magnificent job, darling. However, do you find yourself being too nitpicky with dealing the concept of manifesting? This may be being overly critical with what you want; a focus to being on the road to perfection when visualizing, finding the right words like a pedantic for your affirmations only to leave you not 'feeling it'? 9 is signifcant for some here. (this was incredibly random however I think this is meant for a specific reader). This, in result, somehow distorts the way you see your manifestations. Even in a subtle fashion. This might have hurt the relationship with your vision of the world or yourself.

All of you are doing great with this manifesting process of yours. Anyway, pile 2, this pile is all about wealth; money, extravaganza, or even business/careers. If any venus or aquarius placements here in particular, greetings darling! Most of you see your manifestations as for 'reaching for the stars', top notch, out of your league---this in return makes you feel insecure. and may it be that some are truly confident and being .that.bitch., however some may feel insecure and avoids feeling 'it'. Thinking about this concern may give headaches and dehydration. Do take care, my dear.

Just so all of you know, you do not have to sacrifice yourself to have it. No matter your gender or sex, stand tall with grace and have a little faith. Not blind faith. Never forget yourself as this is all about you! You only truly have to be. Be it. Pushing yourself too hard has this similar feeling to a knife or a dagger burying deeper in your raw flesh; you lose yourself or what makes you live. Like pile 1, we must remember to redirect. Redirect. Redirect.

I heard "be your own father, stand up and have faith" ???

LOVE U. Lonia.

... pile 3 🌸🍀✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

As much as most of the people in pile 3 share the same mindset or self-concept; or let us say truly worked on their self-concept and it shows, my darlings, we are still uniquely different in what we are facing or who we are today. The DEATH card showed up and this does not mean macabre things to happen, as we know of it some are facing 'opportunities' or events challenges their identity, their 'I AM'. This, in return, warps or changes the way may it be you, how you see your manifestations. Go back to the source in which what allows the change which is you, your I AM. You 'being'.

I sense that this pile must be self-concept focused rather than 'manifesting' a desire they have ifykyk. Calm and a wee bit contented. There is no equivocation. It is an assumption for me that pile 3 may be seeing their manifestations as an 'accesory' per se., like getting a Birkin bag, Dior cosmetics, a boyfriend, a phone or seeing signs. Maybe a travelling (aeroplane) ticket too.

Most of you, I sense that there is not a lack of struggle. However, if you are struggling, know you either have it or you do not. Be confident and feel you have it. Do not focus on admiring that desire, focus on admiring the fact that you HAVE your desire. Feeling is the secret, darling.

Also, my darlings for pile 3, voice out what you fancy to. Even if you do it in a subtle fashion, YOU WILL STILL BE HEARD. Remember that. I assume that most may have fire placements or Leo/Aries and are incredibly on fire during this Leo SZN. Be u and shine bright.

LOVE U. Lonia.

[manacia]

your frosted fairytale is complete ! psst, @stardustshuji ! your name has been added to the frosted fairytales library. your assigned au with shidou is . . . college tutoring au !

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first of all . . . your playlist ! meddle about, chase atlantic // you give love a bad name, bon jovi // knee socks, arctic monkeys // sex, drugs, etc., beach weather // starboy, the weeknd // diet mountain dew, lana del ray // wires, the neighbourhood // heat waves, glass animals // babydoll, ari abdul.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how about some imagery . . .

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ put it all together and you get . . .

what an odd scenario you've found yourself in. as the acclaimed 'smartest kid in your class' (your lecturers' words, not yours,) you've helped plenty of your fellow classmates with answer sheets, revision guides, you name it. nobody could have predicted the day that one of your lecturers approached you to ask you in tutoring a guy from one of the sports courses.

sports, huh? you figure they should already be smart at these things but alas, the first time you met shidou ryusei you considered that you may be the unluckiest person alive. how could they pair you to someone so... opposite to you? your personalities were polar, opposite ends of a magnet but he at least found your predicament amusing.

that stupid grin, flashing those white teeth and god, his cologne was too strong to be inhaling in a library at this time in the morning. shidou currently sits opposite you, mindlessly chewing gum while you try to connect your laptop to the library printer - are they making it more difficult for you on purpose? fuchsia eyes flicker over to you from across the table. this is a routine habit now, at the end of the day.

"you're stressin' out, sweetie." shidou comments blatantly, leaning back in the chair he has seated himself in. you chose a table further away from the others working quietly in the library, just to try save them from shidou's obnoxious personality (and stupidity.)

"i am not." you reply quickly, a quiet scoff coming from you as you rest your chin in your hand. your other hand is trying to make quick work of connecting to the printer still, god you should really just start printing out sheets for him at home. shidou shakes his head - he's not exactly stupid all around, just this specific topic you was supposed to be tutoring him in.

"you've got an expressive face," he quips, the muscles of his shoulders moving under his compression shirt when he decides to lean forward, inching the space between you over the table even shorter. your eyes dart to meet his but the pierce of his stare is unsettling, "what, you didn't know that?"

"stop staring at me, read your notes or something." you mumble begrudgingly, heat rising in your cheeks and creeping your neck. you swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat, averting your gaze back to your laptop. faintly, you hear shidou's chuckle as he doesn't move back.

it stays this way for a few more minutes before you finally connect to the library printer. as you saunter away to fetch the printed worksheets for shidou, the male finally leans back and folds his arms across his chest, muttering, "cute. she ain't that bad."

── oh my gawwwwd this is the first time i've met a shidou girlie ! i love you guys so much ? ! i'd die for y'all , don't tell rin ! ! he's a lil tricky for me to pick up on so hopefully i did him justice ! ! . .✦

[systastic]

May I rq a lvl3 Fontaine trio w/ Wrio as one member?

your request came in juuust as the patch came out nya~ great timing!! :3c -🍥

queued 4 later. playing update rn -🐝

name :: chlorinde, chlor, cory, lynn, quinn, avery, emery, rene, renee, mercy

age :: 25 to 27

pronouns :: she/her, zap/zaps

roles :: swordsperson, gunslinger, hunter-queller, jailer / warden, gatekeeper (forcibly move alters to wriothesley’s layer)

species :: human

gender identity :: cassgender

orientation :: sex-repulsed lesbian

source :: genshin impact

aesthetic :: rangercore, rococo, french girly (on her days off)

appearance description :: typically in formal wear, always carrying a weapon of some sort, analytical eyes that assess everything on first sight. scars lie under her clothes, as do rock-hard muscles from years of experience. serious purple eyes that never leave her target. if you find yourself in her sights, be wary. off the battlefield is fine… but when clamoring for a duel? that look spells certain death.

personality description :: bit stiff on a first meeting, cold and calculated when it comes to fighting, has a unique sense of justice that guides her every move. constantly weighing whether or not the kill is worth the risk. stickler for rules and despises those who try to weasel their way out of their punishment. fair and just, yes, but just as equally cold. loosens up significantly around her closer friends like navia and wriothesley, being comfortable enough to try new things and talk openly about her past. it’a weird how people think she had a hard life… that’s just how things were. learning to hold a sword at three and fighting bears at seven is a part of life.

likes :: hunting, riflery, fencing, learning new styles of fighting, hunting down criminals, batman (in the sense of him being a do-gooder) sparring with wriothesley, her role as champion duelist, honoring the fallen marechaussee hunters, tabletop roleplay games (specifically the role of the dungeon master, live action roleplay, maintaining her physical form, her visits to the fortress of meropide (all the criminals are too fearful of her to start anything)

dislikes :: criminals, villains, breaking the law, corrupt officers, malignant paranormal entities, those who tell her “you should be traumatized!” or that her childhood sounded awful, doing her second job in the daylight hours, false reports and made up rumors, going against her personal code, judgements stares, criticism on her methods or execution of her job (they can go kick rocks)

front triggers :: being in a fight, upholding rules or standards, combat (physical), live action role playing, tabletop games. being a dungeon master for a ttrpg

signoff :: ⚔️,🪻, 🪶, or 🤺

art source here!

name :: sigewinne, wynne, winnie, melo, aurora, aurelia, celeste, clementine

age :: 502

pronouns :: she/her, fae/fayr, bun/buns, mel/melu/melus/melusi/melusineself

roles :: healer, medic, soother, comforter, caretaker, catkid

species :: melusine (changed forms thanks to a magic potion gifted by her mentor)

gender identity :: demigirl, nonbinary, cutecoric, femstalic, bungender, fluffyrabbitgender, fluffycloudgender, kaeifluidcollector

orientation :: asexual and aroflux, focusing more on making friends than finding a lover

source :: genshin impact

aesthetic :: nursecore, kawaii, yume kawaii

appearance description :: soft blue hair, melusine feelers on her head, a curly Melusine tail, pink eyes with hearts in the center. often seen wearing her nurse uniform and toting around her medkit. sigewinne has a water-based body, so she jiggles and is cool to the touch. bun will often let close friends and family hold her hand or touch her head when they feel too hot or have a fever, as bun knows it helps to cool them down. mel dresses in anything mel finds “cute”, and is a bit more extravagant with mels clothing taste when mel is off work.

personality description :: sweet as a bug’s ear and twice as kind, sigewinne always has your best interests in mind. she wants to see everyone healthy and happy. bun views humans as cute creatures that need tender love and care, and bun is more than happy to provide that for them.

likes :: anything that can be classified as “cute”, humans in general (they are “cute” to her), helping others, healing others, making ‘nutritional food’, her medkit, being recognized as a doctor, new friends and old friends, fayr infirmary in the fortress of meropide, visiting fayr uncle neuvillette, seeing fayr sisters when on vacation from work, swimming, diving deep into fontaine’s waters, wriothesley & neuvillette, chlorinde

dislikes :: excessively hot days, infected wounds, children who won’t listen, those unwilling to get treatment, those who push their bodies too far, reminders of her mentor, failing to help her patients, witnessing the death of a patient, being unable to help someone, gunfire… and not much else, honestly. wynne is a melusine, who have a different concept of liking and disliking something, so melu doesn’t really ‘dislike’ things as much as she does ‘disagree’ with whatever it is.

front triggers :: seeing someone hurt, injury or pain (body or others), medical visits/trips, uncooperative children in a doctor’s office

signoff :: 🐰, 💉, ❤️‍🩹, or 🩺

art source here!

name :: wriothesley, wrio, west, darius, alistair, amadeus, dmitri, draven, griffin, hendrix

age :: 32

pronouns :: he/him + the ones Sigewinne gave him that he doesn’t use very much, cry/cryn (cryoself), fan/fang (fangself)

roles :: guard, buffer, jailer, warden, athlete, gatekeeper (force unruly alters to stay in his layer)

species :: human w/ distant beastkin ancestry

gender identity :: demimale. he doesn’t do super specific labels cus he doesn’t rly get it.

orientation :: aspec (unlabeled), focuses on platonic relationships over romantic ones as he values them more.

source :: genshin impact

aesthetic :: scrapper, steampunk, bastardcore

appearance description :: often wearing his signature coat. dresses up to an extent. his button up shirts always get rolled up above his elbows to show off his arms. battle scars (and very faint s/h scars) line his arms and body, but he isn’t ashamed of them. if anything, they make him feel stronger. he looks at them and knows he’s improved. black hair, grey eyes. usually wearing darker clothing with splashes of red. will let sigewinne cute-ify him during off hours. and yes, he will keep wearing whatever bun did to him without removing it until the end of the day. (mostly because he doesn’t care to, but also because he trusts winne with his appearance.)

personality description :: older brother figure. fiercely protective of others but knows when to lay off. has a spunky streak that he can only cool when boxing or sparring someone else (even if he doesn’t show up in the ring much anymore). tea lover who enjoys having time to chill and not worry about work. motivated to finish his work properly instead of slacking off or handing it to someone else. gets irritated easily by cowards, mainly because he knows they won’t stand up for themselves — and if they don’t, then who will?

likes :: a good brawl, fighting, boxing, the wwe and mma, beat em up games, hand to hand combat (all forms), respect, justice for abuse victims and jail for abusers, laying down the law, scaring (rude) people off, caffeinated tea (earl grey is his favorite), brief moments of peace and quiet, his favorite chair sitting in his study, reading novels, sigewinne, the occasional visit from chlorinde

dislikes :: cowards, abusive parental figures, not being informed of things, the death of people close to him, seeing sigewinne hurt/pushing herself too much, coffee, rebellious idiots, abusers, being called a dog, being asked/told to bark (he will not, thank you very much!)

front triggers :: seeing others pick fights, unruly behavior, rulebreakers, slackers, being held up for cash, being called a wolf/dog, presence of law enforcement

signoff :: 🐺, 👊, ❄️, or ⚖️

art source here!

[selestialwarriors]

UPDATES

Story

EVERY CLAN FOUNDING LEADER IS NOW DEAD : (

This means I’ll be wrapping up everybody’s origin stories here pretty soon. Groveclan lore has been taking a while just because it’s a bit more of a complex subject and themes and so I want to do it as much justice as possible. So hold on tight for that!!!

New addition to the lore is Starwatcher!!! A cat outside of time and space is charged with the telling and recording the history of all the clans. While she can indirectly cause trouble she is most often trying to make sure her favorite characters survive…she is basically an omnipresent self-insert. She will mostly be used as a vessel to communicate important information to our universe and not much else lol.

Here’s some concept art she mostly stays in star form because her abilities to be everywhere at once make her the ultimate ADHD girlie and maintaining a complex animal form is hard.

Content

Also there is a warrior cats name generator in the works that contains biome specific animals and plants! It’s currently in troubleshooting because I need to weigh the more awkward parts so they come up less than the more common prefixes and suffixes.

With that being said I know the usual format for these types of blogs are webcomics…and unfortunately I don’t have the energy nor motivation to create one. I think that I will just be continuing creating mini blurbs about what’s going on in the clans with the occasional illustration. I think that I will compile it into an updating a digital zine like thing for each clan…something akin to the Ultimate Guide Books that I’ll throw on my ko-fi and Gumroad shops for an optional donation. I know that this seems a bit random but I kind of want to make something that if I ever do decide to change to a more creative career I can put it in my portfolio showing that I have experience in multiple areas.

[exhibit-of-the-century]

The Execution of Lady Jane Grey, Paul Delaroche, 1833, Oil on Canvas, 246 x 197cm, National Gallery, London

Masterlist

BUY ME A COFFEE

I would not do this painting justice in my analysis of the work; I doubt words can ever do justice to that which is painted. Art forces us to attach and feel whatever the artist has placed before us, to empathise and connect to its display. No painting does that, in my opinion, as much as the painting “The Execution of Lady Jane Grey”.

An oil painting by Paul Delaroche, painted in 1833, completed long after the actual historical events, the painting attempts to represent the historical execution of Lady Jane Grey. It has been one that I’ve seen making the rounds on many “mentally ill girlies” Instagram posts and TikToks, due to the connotations of loss of innocence and girlhood. It is a painting that has come back into circles of discussion through its ability to emotionally connect to those feelings, and its forlornness, through the delicate portrayal of Lady Jane Grey.

Historically a Protestant believer, Lady Jane Grey was dubbed the “Nine Day Queen” due to the length of her reign. Proclaimed Queen of England during the Tudor period (1485 to 1605) was overshadowed by her relatives Mary Tudor and Elizabeth I, more so by Mary Tudor, “Bloody Mary”, a Catholic, as she succeeded her to the British throne, overthrowing Lady Jane Grey with the support of the English people due to the conflict of Protestant and Catholic beliefs of the time. Imprisoning Lady Jane Grey in the Tower of London on charges of high treason, wherein she was placed on trial and handed a death penalty. Presumed to be executed at the age of just 17, the painting takes on another layer of mourning and grief.

Located in room 45 of The National Gallery, Trafalgar Square, London, the painting hangs at 246 cm x 297 cm, taking up a quarter of the wall, it demands an audience. Drawing our attention in further with its colour composition, the Lady stands out against the dark background, aided by the gallery’s darker choice of wall paint, she becomes a beacon of white within the grey space.

(Visual Analysis under cut)

The painting depicts a white clad woman, Lady Jane Grey (LJG), surrounded by figures covered in far darker clothes. This choice of colour, specifically the choice to place LJG in a white silk dress, gives her an ethereal glow, almost angelic, symbolising her soon to be death and perhaps the hope that she passes onto heaven. Moreover, these ideas and themes prevails through the iconography in the background, tall pillars with details chiselled and carved into its walls. Patterns that you’d find in monasteries, cathedrals and catholic churches, known for their grandeur of detail. Furthermore, her hands outstretched and eyes blindfolded, she is guided by the man behind her, presenting her as a lamb to the slaughter, reinforced by the white dress and the straw laid at her knees.

The background is dark; the use of greys, blacks, and reds creates an oppressive atmosphere. Working in tandem with the white of the dress, the contrast highlights her, singling her out. To her left are two women, both clearly in states of distress, as shown by their positioning and expression. One hides her face, hands reaching skyward as if in prayer. However, the choice to hide her face, away from the execution implies mourning and a loss of hope; her prayers not being heard. While the other woman looks defeated; shoulders slumped, she loosely clutches a rosary, unlike the other woman she shows no desperation. From this body language we can infer that these women care for LJG, and from their golden jewellery and elaborate velvet dresses with embroidery, that they were of high status, perhaps ladies in waiting. This comparison between the ladies in waiting and LJG makes her seem bare, stripped of any layers of fabric and clothing that could protect her, or any representation of status.

On the right of LJG are two men, one further removed from the scene and one who guides her. The man closest to her, leans in with his arms around her, guiding her to the executioner’s block, while shielding her in some manner from the executioner’s presence, forming a greater divide, prolonging the inevitable. His body is close, head leaned in, as if whispering. LJG seems to wear a sombre expression, almost peaceful, hinting at her knowledge of what is going to happen to her, while simultaneously having given up the fight. The man’s bald spot suggests that he is a member of the clergy, and reinforcing this idea are his heavy long clothes and chain. His greying hair suggests ideas of a wise judgment, that this is what must happen to LJG, as she blindly (literally and figuratively) follows him. It could also be said that his wise demeanour backfires and suggests a perpetuation of old ideas surrounding the monarchy and needless violence in Britain at the time.

The other man stood a distance away is clearly the executioner as he wields a large axe and other objects of harm around his belt. He does not display the stereotypical characteristics of a willing executioner, as he holds the axe away from the scene, unwillingly handling it with a loose grip. His objects around the belt are on display but small and seemingly insignificant and lost to the greater detail of the scene. Through his body language, the executioner is also prolonging the inevitable demise of LJG, reinforcing the narrative of her as a beloved figure.

Despite the painting implying prevailing ideas of martyrdom surrounding LJG’s depiction of her execution, and how beloved she was by those around her, in the background you can make out spears and lances raised upright. Pocking out from behind the stage on which the execution is taking place, as if making a spectacle of her death, these lances are a show of strength. Perhaps here to represent her inability to escape or be aided by outside help, forced to die. Or perhaps to symbolise the overshadowing presence of Bloody Mary and her rise and dominance of power over this situation.

Next to her hang other, much smaller, paintings in comparison. This makes her the focal point and the main subject on this wall in the gallery. Furthermore, she is displayed next to the title “Academic and Romantic Painters”, which goes on to explain the 19th century artist’s mentalities and ideologies. Romantic painters, during the Romanticism period of art and literature, are defined by their new intrigue in human psychology, expression of personal feeling and interests in the natural world.

This artwork does just that. The painter, Paul Delaroche, was a French artist, during the time in which France was going through a phase of Anglomania: the excessive admiration of English customs. One might say they were just a bit obsessed with British history and reinventing it. More specifically this artist, who came from the romanticism period, was obsessed in capturing the emotions he had invested and read from historical accounts. However, there is a dramatic flair to the painting, as a lot of what is on display- such as the ladies in waiting, wailing in the corner- would not have actually been present at the execution.

As virtuosic as this painting is, we must bear in mind that this is a romanticisation of the execution and a departure from reality.

However, these creative liberties do not subtract from the painting’s genius, they afford the painting an even deeper feeling of despair at her demise, precisely the of a romantic artist. Although this painting comes from an artist who would’ve only had the capability of reading about this moment in time, it, to me, makes the painting all the more impressive in its ability to create such anguish, from 2D words into a painting that feels 3-Dimensional.

As I type my analysis and breakdown of the painting and its historical aspects, I sit in front of it as it gives me a greater chance to analyse the work in detail. A photographic reproduction can only do so much justice to a painting as they tend to lose their size, colour, and impact of when you first walk into a room and see it for the first time.

While sat down before the work, it gave me the chance to listen to and sometimes discuss aspects of it with other gallery goers. Some of the things that I’ve overheard have shaped my own understanding, interpretation, and further reflection from a modern perspective of the work.

“You see what you expect to see” – while this isn’t a false statement in the slightest, it is a shame to only look at a painting for what is just on the canvas. While the title given to this piece rightfully describes the scene exactly to us, there is a greater layer of representation and emotion. Also not all works will have a title, or name, that relates to what is on the canvas, looking at the greater context of who Delaroche was reveals many details about this work (please refer to the visual analysis). But also this was a very dry sarcastic quip made by a very tired British person, the humour of it is not lost on me.

But this did make me consider and reflect, as when you read the statement for the first time, I doubt you read it with that dry sarcasm. Which got me thinking on if it were just a plain, monotone, statement. Consider the title and the brutality behind the word ‘execution’ one that you may associate with medieval and outdated practices, but is still preformed today in prisons, consider the distancing of emotion when you hear that word. Consider: a brutal death execution delivered to a young girl. Historically it was an execution, but why not use the word death?

the carrying out of a plan, order, or course of action.

the carrying out of a sentence of death on a condemned person.

“This one is so pretty” – how can the planned murder of a young girl be ‘pretty’, why is this painting considered so beautiful? There was some intent in making her ethereal yes, but pretty? Was that what he intended, or was that a by product of the time of painting and style? Was this perhaps driven by the Anglomania gripping France at the time, and yet people today consider her pretty.

This line of thinking and pursuit of knowledge led me into considering the female form, her age, and the cultural (modern) obsession with making women beautiful in death. Although I’m not going to analyse this in detail here or deep dive into the history. But to highlight this phenomenon most prominently, through the photo of Evelyn McHale, hailed as the most beautiful suicide and reproduced in great detail over the centuries following the release of this photo.

I personally will not be posting the photo, but you can find it in one of the articles below.

These articles are for further reading, I do not fully agree with everything said and always read articles with a grain of salt, remember that there is always intention in any work.

Most notable ideas that followed suite were of objectification in art of women portrayed by men. Is this painting perhaps exhibiting some aspects of that?

I leave you to draw your own conclusions and understandings, as that is what art is all about.

(Feel free to let me know your thoughts, I’m always very curious)

Sources:

[fakehelper]

Hi Elly! Amateur colouring anon 🦋 again here. Could you please share which episodes of eye candy the Victoria Justice phone call gifs were from? I’m, once again, referring to the gifs included in your what to gif guide doc. Thank you so much!

Sorry for the late response! I finally had time to go through my gifs! So pretty much you could use any episode, this girlie is always on the phone in this show. But! The specific gifs you asked about are from Episodes 2 and 6.

Episode 2

Episode 6

[the-dragon-folk]

Gonna start developing core Sorrows for characters. I tend to do so for Longings (goals, in a sense), but I’m trying to develop this.

Partha’s sore sorrow is Loneliness. This stems from her being kidnapped as a child to be ransomed, and being left in isolation for days if not longer as punishment for disobeying her parents. This leads to walls that start to come down throughout the warden’s campaign, but ultimately is reconfirmed for her by the end of the origins storyline.

Judpha’s core sorrow is Grief. This stems from the loss of his niece, his sister, and as his own childhood. He would’ve been ten when his sister died and left him with his infant niece, and he fought tooth and nail and to protect her only to lose her anyways. It wouldn’t have been more than a year since her death by the start of the origins storyline, and he’s just been ripped apart by darkspawn and the formerly richest woman in Orzammar has just shown the fuck up for some ungodly reason. So, at the start he’s pretty hurt and closed off. But I think at the end he’s learned what it means to be supported and to support others in a way that is healthy and balanced, and gains a great deal of empathy from it. I’ve yet to play, but I always imagined that when my Inky loses her arm, he’s the first one to reach out with a letter about everything he wished he had known before he lost his arm. I think resolving this Core Sorrow goes on to strength a core sense of Compassion that had always guided him.

Killian’s core sorrow is Pain. She’s a pure Tabris origin girlie. I think what happens with her is she hates without balance, and violence is action to her. She lacks organization, and tries too hard to do everything herself. When she’s put into a leadership role in the Auxiliary party, she learns the ole “there’s no “I” in team,” as well as finding empathy and support similarly (and with) Judpha. She becomes more a balanced, and tactical, and empathetic. Resolving this Core Sorrow for her strengthens her sense of Leadership and Justice.

Partha leaving with her Core Sorrow strengthened rather than resolved is kind of what puts her on her Weird Post-Divorce Dad arc. I just don’t know if she, during origins and all that’s after, finds any true sense of belonging that isn’t stripped away. Does girlie even have an identity outside of her obedience to the political game? I think otherwise her other core could be Spirituality or Curiosity, but again: Who is she outside of her Sorrow?

[wild-wombytch]

Anyway, if any of you come and visit Brittany or just go to this fest, DM me! I'd be more than happy to be a tour guide and I have a 3P tent for the fest if needs be! Can also teach you some French if you want to talk to vendors or we can just fist bump.

Some of the female owned businesses I bought stuff from : (if you need, I can translate stuff from the artists' websites or help you write a message to the artists in French)

Art Celtique a small business owned by the sweetest mamm-goh! I'm 100% coming back next year to eat pastries with her over a tea, idc. Lots of Breton-themed curios. Pins, patches, handmade soaps, Saints statues (Sant Ivo, Santez Anna, Sant Konan...) [btw Saints in Brittany are more like a remnant of a cult of the deads that was Christianised than something really recognised by the Church], shirts, local leather-crafted bracelets and the traditional white and blue bowls with your name on (that aren't Made in China like most of those you'll find elsewhere, you actually have to order them or be lucky. You can call in advance so you pick up yours after the festival! The shop is essentially her house, so she can let you get them at your discretion)

She's a bit of a punk at heart and was really sweet to talk to. She has a lady cat, Minnig (small name of "Hermine", also the nickname of Anna of Brittany, Duchess of Brittany and later Queen of France) watching over the shop and begging to be pet!! Careful, the doorbell is a bit surprising! Butches : she also sells ties and bowties and axes pendants!

Shirt reads "Breizh Metal"

[No pic available]

Ose small metaphysical shop. I only bought some incense and balm so nothing you won't see elsewhere, however the owner is more of an artist than anything and makes her own candles and decorations. She has decorative potions that are like snowballs but cooler, changing colours and stuff. She resells a lot from local crafters and artist. Her brother is a tattoo artist nearby and designed this year's Motocultor's shirt, so she had pins and stuff with that design and other exclusive stuff. Also sells keychains with colorful wichy cats and beautiful gemstone jewels and gems. Some tarots, of course. She also sell hand gathered and hand made plant balms and tinctures from a friend and second hands books and tarot/oracle decks (her philosophy is that books are to be read by as many people as possible). She's very kind and upbeat and was delightful to talk to. She's obviously a lover of craft arts. She drew me in with her music and incenses.

I don't have the name of this business. Forgive me, it was 2am and I was piss drunk.

Anyway, ma'am is a middle-aged Latina who does the leatherwork herself (lots of macrame) and does the most STUNNING jewels. Lots of them were beautiful but too femme for me, just like the lacey clothes also sold here. I didn't think of taking a pic either. I found a "labrys" earring there. Anyway, she sold her stuff directly on the festival's lawn, and apparently is here every year (again, I'm not sure anymore, I was a few liters of cider ahead of sobriety 💀). Lots of these shits would likely have a lot of you alty and lesbian girlies to succumb to the evil of spending money. It's not even much in proportion of the handiwork that got into the items. That small business is a treasure!

La-Lori is such a talented illustrator and was very patient with my drunken ass, like the following seller.

I fell in love with her (non-sexualised nor beheaded...it's harder to find that one may think) Medusa (who got the owner of the metaphysical shop Ose gush about when she saw my shirt. Three women, three based tastes). My blurry pics don't do her work justice, it's extremely detailed and the colors aren't toothpaste white, they actually blend amazingly on the shirts! Her dark aesthetic is so tasteful and you can tell a lot of thinking and spirituality got into the symbols and the way things are drawn. I'm in love for real!

Texts reads "Medusa" and either "Horned You" or "Horned God" depending on how you read it.

Poulettes-Sisters and their sister site for activism Poulette d'Assaut. The aesthetic here is more pin-up/femme, and I think more libfem, but I really wanted to support these queens! The staff is female only except for the photographer and treasurer.

I couldn't see their other stand, but they proposed to glitter up your faces while discussing feminism and selling mugs and stuff. I think they might have been near the SSV table, which sold anti-drug cups lids and condoms and talked about sexism.

In terms of activism, they do girls only nights in bars (wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't sex-based), take donations to gift menstrual products to women and girls who don't have the money for that and they also take second hand bags to give to modest kids along with school items while talking about feminism to students. Their photographer also shot portraits of female festivalers last year, to show the face of those who are often erased from punk/metal. You can support them on their second page.

Since the pics were a bit awkward to take : the first tops says "Born to kick your ass", "Fucking Fabulous" and "Irreducible". The pin is "Power Rageuse" (rageuse = female hater) and the last shirt says "All women are witches", "Fuck Misogyny" and "Unchain your Poulette power" ("poulette" could be translated to "chick", which is often derogatory -but less and less used- when said by men but usually affectionate and not sexual at all in nature when used by women, often close to each other or addressing a little girl). Illustrator is credited as Cerise-la-Castagne! They also gave me a sticker and their wrapping was super cool.

Motocultor 2024, Friday the 16th, Karaez, Poher (Kernev) and neighbouring cities and landscapes

(Too many passerby/friends in my other pics that could be identified, that's why I'm not posting much of the festival itself)

It was my first Motocultor. A friend kindly abducted me into going there. Honestly, great experience. If the organisation stays as it is, it is safe for women to go alone. There is a libfem association that was patrolling to ensure it. There were a lot of women (including in security and staff), it was quite accessible for people with physical disabilities. Toilets are clean and well thought. Everyone sleeps about everywhere on the festival undisturbed. There are many tasty vegan/vegetarian options in foods (and a good selection of Asian and African foods). You can dress however you want without being harassed (some women were in bras for comfort -yours included- and there were male travestites and they seemed to feel safe). Also, you can wash yourself/brush your teeth, fix your muddy shoes etc about 5min of walk outside of the fest (technically there is water on the fest but it's less crowded outside and actually made for that purpose (it's a sport's spot).

The vibe it gave was very libfem, so don't expect some activist radical lesbians everywhere, of course, or to not see bdsm stuff or performances of feminity. But it was still better than most festivals with a lot of very toxic macho males a lot of people don't feel safe around. They had stuff to protect your drinks and your ears. They had power banks. You have a market so if any of your clothes for some reason tear or whatever you can find some stuff. The light is well thought so there aren't dark isolated corners. The control of items at the entrance is good. You can have a cashless account you can add money to in advance as soon as you have your ticket, so you don't need physical money. You just need a credit card if you want to buy merch, but you can 100% come to the festival without credit cards or money anywhere else than in the bracelet they give you at the entrance. Also, Nazi symbols were explicitly banned in the rules THANKS FUCKING HELL. But according to the girls who were our tents neighbours, the other fest in this city, Les Vieilles Charrues, had some of those guys as well. Be careful for festivals in France in general (especially WOC), the people are becoming properly insane and violent these days. For the head up, as far as I know this is a far left separatist city, so people here are Bretons, not French. We unite in hatred of Paris.

The musics were a bit of everything. It depends of the days. We had Faun and Opeth at the same time, to give an idea. Some groups were rap/metal, other electro/metal, folk/metal, symphonic/metal and uh....well, just listen to Igorrr yourself, I can't explain it but it was fire and rhe female singer was fucking POSSESSED she was amazing and touching and funny as hell. We had punk on the Saturday, a good amount of female bands in comparison to other fests. Not just metalheads in the public, a lot of punks and other alt cultures as well. Booze was great (and unlike the previous fest I've been to where we got harassed by homophobic white supremacists, there was coffee and energy drinks, as it should).

Camping was crowded but had a good mentality. We had about twenty people cheering for us when we were trying to put the tent back in its bag. We asked for a Qeshua expert around and ended up at five people trying to wrap it up like idiots. Then -of course it was a woman 😭✨- Our Lady of Qeshua came out of thin air to our rescue and wrap that shit up on her own in about 30s, like a proper badass. I love you my sister in tent. Also we had the honour of witness a 4am dumpsters joust and the next day to talk with one of the dumpster warriors. So uh...maybe bring earplugs if you intend on actually sleeping. There is also the Makumba here, where it's purposely shitty and memeish old pop songs being played and remixed for people who are still alive and not dead-drunk after 2am. We did shitty dance. It was funny. Except I was tired, in sandals (because honestly fuck combat boots after one to many miles of walk and pogo) and it took about 2min for someone to spill his whole beer on my feet and for another dude crowd surfing in my back and falling from the sky on me (I'm fine, I believe he is?). The morning, if younre early you may miss the queue for a well-deserved watery coffee.

Honestly the ticket is expensive for my budget (now kinda dead because I shamefully admit I fell a bit for the capitalist evil. But I'm wealthier of sturdy leathers that will last a lifetime and supporting a lot of female owned businesses) but it ended up being a wonderful investment! 100% recommand (maybe 1-2 day for a start, because you need a medal if you survive to 4 days).

[avatardoggo]

of FREAKING course. the day my little meow meow follows me to the convenient store is the day i forget my phone at home skjssjnsn

[wondersofdreaming]

Show Night

Characters: Henry Cavill x female reader

Word count: 1.446

Warnings: Pure fluff. Competitiveness. Blurting. Hidden relationship. A little teasing. Embarassment. 

Author’s note: This is a prequel to Game Night

Thank you @radaofrivia​ for your inspiration, motivation and for guiding me <3

Go read her stories here: Rada’s Masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

“Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special treat for all of you. We have the entire Justice League here with us. Please give a warm welcome to Gal Gadot, Ben Affleck, Henry Cavill, Jason Momoa, Ray Fisher and Ezra Miller.”

The entire audience clapped. There were whistling, some were screaming at the top of their lungs. You were cheering just as loud. Watching your handsome boyfriend walk out and wave to everyone. A relaxed smile spread on his lips when his eyes landed on you.

You were at the Graham Norton show. Sitting on the front row. No one knew who you were except the man who owned your body, heart, and soul, and now also Graham Norton and his crew. The producers had wanted you to stay backstage, but you had been adamant on wanting to sit in the audience and watching the show live. They had relented in the end if you promised not to cause a ruckus, which you had sworn.

Graham starts asking questions about the Zack Snyder’s Justice League, and at some point the engagement ring for Amy Adams’ character ‘Lois Lane’ comes into the conversation.

“Did you in fact choose that ring yourself, Henry?” Graham asked and motioned to the monitor behind him, showing a closeup of the ring.

“I didn’t. I actually have no clue where it comes from,” Henry chuckled, his eyes searching for you. You could see he was a little nervous, as he was fiddling with the hem of his suit jacket. You put your hand on your chest and crossed your fingers.

It was your secret sign for him. A sign of your devotion to him, as you had promised to always be there for him. The idea came to you while watching your favourite anime show ‘Fairy Tail’.

“If you ever become nervous or need a reminder, then look towards me or the camera if I am not there. I will you show you this sign,” you had crossed your fingers over your heart, “Even if you can’t see me, no matter how far away you may be, I will always be watching over you.”(1)

It had been a day where Henry had had a long day filled with interviews right at the beginning of your relationship. He hadn’t wanted to ask you to come, which was the reason why you hadn’t attended, thinking he wanted to work in peace. He proceeded to come home and went directly for your lap, falling asleep in 0.2 seconds, and you had asked him to bring you with him to work, as you, an author, could work anywhere.

“… I think it is about time he finds himself a girlfriend, a woman to spend his life with,” Jason’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Henry squirming more than before. His jaw was tense as he was forcing a laugh. You felt his pain and wished you could sit next to him and squeeze his hand in yours.

“I have a lot of single friends, Supes. Say the word and I’ll introduce you,” Jason smacked Henry’s thighs with the biggest grin on his bearded face. It may have sounded like a joke to the audience but Henry knew that Jason wasn’t teasing.

“I don’t think my girlfriend will like that you’re playing matchmaker, brother,” Henry smiled. All the actors’ faces fell, even Jason was gobsmacked as his jaw dropped to the floor.

Then Henry noticed what he had just said. His head turned towards you with a look of utter shock. He had just blurted out that he wasn’t single anymore, without having consulted you. Your heart was racing, your secret had been revealed. In some way, it felt like a heavy stone having been lifted from your shoulders.

You didn’t know whether to scold him for not asking you to make your relationship public or to laugh at the horror he was sporting on that handsome face of his. You opted for the second choice, the people around you followed suit and started laughing and cheering.

“Well, you heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen, Henry Cavill is officially off the market,” Graham announced to the camera. “Now, Henry, you have to tell us how you two met.”

“We… eh… met through mutual friends. They were having a game night, and we ended up being paired together for charades,” Henry smiled at the memory. Looking at you, making you fall even more in love with him. Jason and the others noticed where Henry was looking and started shouting for you to join the group.

“Oh yes, please she must join us for the next part of the fun,” Graham pleaded.

Ray and Ezra both stood and went to stand at the edge of the stage. Each man gallantly offered a hand, which you took and was led towards the sofa. Jason moved to make space for you and was wearing a big grin, his eyes shining with glee.

After the rounds of introduction and you told what your occupation was, Graham went to introduce the little quiz game he had conjured. You were each given a button that made a sound. Yours sounded like a pig snorting, while Henry’s was a howling wolf.

“So, the winner gets to take home whatever is underneath this piece of cloth,” Graham said after he had told you the rules. He motioned to the covered box next to him.

“Everyone ready?” he asked. All the actors and yourself said yes. Henry was leaning a little forward, to be ready to push his button.

“First question: Who are the original members of the Justice League?”

You pushed your button faster than anyone, while Henry pushed his so hard it nearly flew off the table.

“Aquaman, Wonder Woman, Batman, The Flash, Superman and Green Lantern,” you told Graham. (2)

“Go girly,” Gal cheered for you. She leaned forward and raised her hand for a high five, which you returned.

“Correct! Question number two: What is the Green Lantern oath?”

*Oink oink*

Again you were the fastest. Everyone watched as Henry let out an annoyed huff, but his face showed nothing but absolute happiness.

“In brightest day, in blackest night, No evil shall escape my sight.

Let those who worship evil’s might Beware my power, Green Lantern’s light. (3)” You quoted.

You felt the other actors starring at you. Jason gave you a side hug and told you that Henry had found not only a beautiful woman but also an impressive one and that he was damn lucky to have you. You had smiled back and felt yourself being pulled back towards Henry’s side. He held a protective arm around you the remaining of the show.

“Seriously, Cavill. Don’t want to compete with your girl?” Jason asked teasingly.

“I’ll gladly just lean back and let her have her time in the light. Besides, I’m already winning because she’s with me,” Henry smiled proudly at you. You heard the entire audience all go ‘awwwwwwwww’, so did the actors and Jason went between you and Henry to hug both of you.

“Third question: In what year was the first Justice League comic book published?”

Again you were quick to push the button.

“Depending on whether you’re talking about the first time they appeared all together which was in The Brave and the Bold #28 (4) and published in 1959, while their very first own comic book series was published in late 1960.” (5)

Henry raised his eyebrows, clearly dazzled by your vast knowledge. 

“Correct again. Seems you know more about the Justice League than the Justice League itself,” Graham joked.

“I didn’t expect anything less from Superman’s girlfriend,” Ben said with an appreciative grin.

You felt Henry moving closer to you, hugging you tighter to his chest. It was the safest you had ever felt, and even though Henry hadn’t gotten one single point, he was still oozing happiness. Happy to have you by his side forever and ever.

“Here is what you’ve won,” Graham handed you the box and removed the cloth. Inside was Funko Pop figurines of every Justice League member.

After the show, you made sure that every single actor signed their respective figure, and you had pictures taken with them to remember the evening.

At home, you arranged the figures with how they look on the poster you had hung on the wall of your office.

“Another win for the team,” you said out loud. Henry walked in and hugged you from behind. He wrapped those big arms around your middle and whispered seductively in your ear:

“I’m the real winner here.”

1. This is a line from Fairy Tail episode 48 by Makarov Dreyar. I changed it a bit to fit the context.

2. Source https://ew.com/books/brief-history-of-the-justice-league-in-all-its-incarnations/ 

3. Source https://greenlantern.fandom.com/wiki/Lantern_Oaths_(Disambiguation) 

4. Source https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/The_Brave_and_the_Bold_Vol_1_28

5. Source https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Justice_League_of_America_Vol_1_1