#ive made incredible progress... but ive still a long way to go

[cyanidas]

Hope yall are having a good holiday season!

I'm excited for the new year ;w; small update in tags

[jzprncess]

the missing melody ♪

part 2 previous

pairing : franco colapinto x singer!reader

faceclaim : various people!

summary: With the Grand Prix results in, Y/N returns home inspired, diving back into her music. Meanwhile, Franco, curious about the singer he met, follows her on social media. What begins as casual online exchanges soon hints at a deeper connection.

warnings : some singers do not exist in this au since i might take their songs!

note : MERRY CHRISTMAS!! here is your surprise, i know some have been waiting but ive been in a writing block. dont kill me bc its short! i suck at writing UGHHHHHH

     ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

 williamsracing just posted 

liked by yourusername, username2, and 535,290 others 

williamsracing TEAM 💙  10 POINTS IN BAKU 🔥🔥🔥

An incredible drive by both drivers and we secure P7 and P8. GET IN THERE! 👏  This is only the beginning.

view all comments 

username2 VAMOS VAMOS VAMOS 🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷

username4 this progress of williams is what’s giving me hopes for carlos next year 🥲

username6 🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷

username8 WOWWWW BRAVO 👏🏼👏🏼

username3 COLAPINTO2025 

username5 STANDING OVATION!!! 🔥🔥

username5 y/n was the good luck charm! i’m telling you! 🫵🏼

username7 simply lovely

yourusername grateful to be here and watch the team score some points. it’s amazing to watch, might just have to join for another race soon. thanks again for letting me join in the paddock! 🇦🇷🔥💙

↳williamsracing we’re glad to have you y/n, can’t wait to see you trackside again! wishing you luck on your future endeavors! 💙

↳alex_albon appreciate it! we hope to see you soon!

↳francolapinto glad you could be here! i would love for you to come to another race, let’s make it happen. 💙

↳username5 now i need her to go to another race this season

third pov

As the Grand Prix weekend drew to a close, Y/N felt a bittersweet mix of relief and melancholy. The weekend had been a whirlwind, filled with the excitement of the race and the unexpected attention she had garnered from her appearance. The crowded paddock and constant buzz of conversations had left her mentally drained, but as she walked toward the car that would take her back home, there was a certain peace settling over her.

The world outside the track seemed quieter, more serene. She could hear the faint hum of the engines in the distance as the final laps were being completed, but for her, it was time to leave the chaos behind. The press, the cameras, the questions—all of it faded away as she slid into the front seat, the doors closing softly behind her, sealing her off from the world she had momentarily rejoined.

She pulled out of the paddock, and stared out the window, watching the lights of the city blur past as she made her way back home. The city was still alive, but she felt removed from it, as though she were floating in a different space. Her mind wandered back to the people she had met during the weekend—the 2 william's drivers, the fans, the connections she made. She longed for the solitude of her room, a place where she could decompress and regain the clarity she so desperately sought. 

As the car rounded a corner, she caught a glimpse of the track once more, her heart stirring with a mix of admiration and uncertainty. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but for now, she was content to retreat into her own world and reflect on the moments that had left an imprint on her soul.

franco’s pov 

I stood on the podium, the aftertaste of victory still fresh as my team erupted in celebration. My first points of the season—it wasn’t much, but it felt like a significant step forward. The atmosphere was electric, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything was falling into place. But even with all the cheering and the congratulations, my thoughts kept drifting to something—or rather, someone—that had caught my attention this weekend. Y/N. I didn’t know much about her, but I couldn’t ignore the way she moved through the paddock with such quiet grace. It wasn’t just her fame, though that was undeniable; it was something about her presence. She wasn’t demanding attention, yet everyone seemed to be aware of her, drawn to her in a way that made me curious.

There was something magnetic about her. It wasn’t just the way she looked—it was the way she carried herself. She didn’t seem to be seeking validation from anyone. She wasn’t flashy, but there was an air of confidence, a mystery to her that intrigued me. 

I’d seen her throughout the weekend, but it was when I finally met her that everything clicked. We had a brief conversation with Alex, nothing too elaborate, just a few exchanged words, but it felt different somehow. The way she spoke, the way she listened—it was all so natural, so unassuming. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and yet there was something about her that made me want to know more. Her smile, the subtle warmth in her eyes—it was like she was letting me see just a glimpse of who she was, without revealing too much. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a casual interaction, but it left me wanting to understand what lay beneath that composed, almost guarded exterior. There was more to her, I was sure of it, and that curiosity lingered long after our conversation ended.

The more I thought about her, the more I found myself wondering what had brought her to this point in her life. Here she was, standing on the fringes of our world—famous, yes, but still somewhat distant, as if she didn’t quite belong to this chaotic universe we all lived in.

I read her Instagram post after the race, since I was already in the car on the grid, when she posted it. She had opened up about the struggles she had been facing, about stepping away from the spotlight and the personal battles she was fighting. It was raw and vulnerable, nothing like the polished image the world saw. It made me realize that the person I had met wasn’t the confident star I had expected, but someone much more complex. She wasn’t just another celebrity navigating the chaos of fame—there was a quiet strength to her, a kind of raw honesty that made me want to understand her even more.

Back in my hotel room later that evening, after everything had quieted down, I found myself scrolling through my phone. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about that brief moment when our eyes had met. I opened Instagram without really thinking about it, my fingers moving almost on autopilot as I searched for her name. Something inside me told me to take this small step. I followed her. There was no reason why I should expect anything from it, but I felt the impulse to reach out in some way, even if it was just this simple action.

I sat back on the bed as I hit “follow,” my heart beating a little faster as I did. I wasn’t expecting her to notice, but something about it felt right. I scrolled through her feed, each post revealing just a little more about who she was. There was an intimacy to her posts, the way she shared pieces of herself without fully letting anyone in. It wasn’t the usual curated perfection I saw from other influencers. Each photo seemed to tell a story, but only if you were paying close attention. I couldn’t help but be intrigued. Maybe it was the beginning of something, or maybe it was just a small, fleeting curiosity that would fade away. But as I followed her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the start of something that could pull me into her world in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

y/n’s pov 

As I stirred the sauce, my phone dinged from across the kitchen. I wiped my hands on a towel and walked over to check it. When I unlocked the screen, I saw Franco had followed me on Instagram. I paused, staring at the notification for a moment, a little caught off guard. My mind raced as I thought about our brief encounter, and I felt a sudden urge to message him. Taking a deep breath, I opened the app, ready to start typing.

messages

third pov

Y/N stood in her kitchen, wiping down the last of the plates from dinner, the sounds of the quiet house filling the space around her. She had eaten alone tonight, a habit she’d fallen into over the past few months. The familiar hum of the dishwasher was the only noise, but her mind was elsewhere. Franco’s face kept drifting into her thoughts—his easy smile, the way his eyes lit up when they spoke. They’d only met today, briefly, but something about him had stuck with her.

It had been a long day at the Grand Prix, full of excitement and noise, but when their conversation had veered into something personal, something quiet, it had been like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them. She had felt a spark, undeniable and electric, even though she knew he’d be leaving soon. He was on his way to Mexico for the next race, already on the plane when she had sat down to dinner by herself, yet the connection lingered in the back of her mind.

Y/N sighed, reaching for her notebook that rested on the counter. As she flipped through the pages, her fingers brushed over old lyrics, half-finished songs, and abandoned ideas. She hadn’t written anything in weeks—no inspiration, no motivation. But tonight felt different. She had this restless energy swirling inside her, something she couldn’t ignore. She sat down and began to write.

The pen moved quickly, almost without thought. The words felt raw, like they were pouring out of her all at once. She wasn’t sure if it was the memories of the day or the faint pull of something more, but she couldn’t stop herself. The chorus took shape, the melody forming like a whispered secret.

“It’s all in my head / I’ll keep it to myself / I know that you’ll never see it / I’m just looking for a reason..” (the bottom by gracie abrams)

Her mind wandered back to Franco, and she found herself replaying their brief encounter over and over. There was something about him—something real and different from anyone she’d met in a long time. But he was leaving for Mexico, and soon enough, he’d be consumed by the fast-moving world of Formula 1. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever see him again, and the uncertainty gnawed at her.

But still, there was this quiet tug inside her, a feeling she couldn’t shake. Maybe—just maybe—this moment held more than she’d first realized. It was all in her head, she thought, but she couldn’t help but hope for something more.

As she continued to write, her hand moved almost instinctively, the words flowing faster than she could process. It was like the music was the only place that made sense, the only thing that could capture what she couldn’t quite say out loud. She smiled softly as the song began to take shape, feeling that spark of something inside her. It wasn’t finished yet, but there was a sense that this was just the beginning.

The quiet of the house was only interrupted by the soft scratch of Y/N's pen as she wrote, her thoughts wandering to the conversation she’d had earlier with Franco. Her phone suddenly buzzed, and she jumped slightly. Seeing Franco's name on the screen made her hesitate, but she quickly answered, trying to sound calm.

*start of phone call*

“Hello?” she said, her shyness making the greeting almost tentative.

“Hey, it’s Franco,” came his familiar voice, sounding warm and easy. “I just landed in Mexico. How’s your night going?”

Y/N felt a small smile tug at her lips, a slight relief washing over her. “Hi, Franco. It’s going okay... just writing. How about you? How was the flight?”

“It was fine, a bit long, but nothing I can’t handle,” Franco replied, his tone light. “It feels good to be here, though. Getting ready for the weekend.”

Y/N shifted in her seat, her fingers tapping nervously on her notebook. “Yeah, I’m sure it must be a bit overwhelming. But, uh, you’ve done this kind of travel before, right?”

Franco laughed softly, clearly amused. “You could say that. But every new race feels a little different. There’s always something new to learn. What about you? I know you’ve only been to one race, right?”

“Yeah, just today.” Y/N said, a little shy about admitting she was still new to the whole experience. “It was... a lot. But really exciting too. I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did.”

“That’s awesome. What did you think of the atmosphere?” Franco asked, genuinely curious.

Y/N smiled, remembering the energy from the day. “It was wild, in a good way. I didn’t really know what to expect, but the crowd was so into it. It’s different from anything I’ve ever experienced.”

“I can imagine. There’s just something about a race day, huh?” Franco said. “It gets under your skin.”

“Yeah, I think I get that now,” Y/N replied, feeling a little more relaxed as the conversation moved away from the work side of things. “It’s... thrilling. I can see why people love it.”

“So, what did you do after the race? Did you go back hotel?” Franco asked, genuinely interested in how she was spending her time.

Y/N shifted slightly, a little self-conscious. “No, I just came home. I haven't been, um... great with big crowds recently, so I thought I’d unwind for the night. I guess it’s a good thing I like being alone sometimes.”

“I totally get that,” Franco said, his voice softer now, almost like he understood exactly what she meant. “I’m kind of the same way. Traveling and being around people can be... draining.”

Y/N smiled faintly, feeling a little more at ease. “Yeah, exactly. It’s nice to just have a quiet night to yourself.”

There was a pause, and then Franco continued, “What do you usually do when you’re alone? Like, when you’re not writing?”

Y/N hesitated before answering, her fingers gently brushing over the edges of her notebook. “I, uh, watch movies sometimes. Old ones. And I read a lot too. Mostly books that... help me forget everything for a little while.”

Franco’s voice was warm, and she could tell he was trying to keep the conversation light. “I think I’d like some movie recommendations. I’ve been wanting to watch something different, but I don’t know where to start.”

Y/N smiled softly, appreciating how easy the conversation was flowing now. “I could definitely do that. If you like old films, I’d recommend some classic noirs. They’re... atmospheric, but in a cool way.”

“Sounds perfect,” Franco said, clearly interested. “I’ll have to try that when I’m not in race mode.”

“I’ll make a list for you, then,” Y/N replied, her voice lightening a little. “Maybe next time we talk, I can recommend a few more.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Franco said with a gentle laugh. “It’s nice just to talk about something that’s not... the race or the schedule.”

“Yeah, it is,” Y/N said quietly, feeling a strange sense of connection. “I didn’t expect it to be so easy to talk.”

“Me neither,” Franco agreed. “But I’m glad we’re talking.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a little more comfortable with the whole situation. “Me too. It’s... nice. I’m glad you called.”

“Glad I did too. Well, I’ll let you get back to your writing,” Franco said, though his voice didn’t sound ready to hang up. “But we’ll talk soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/N replied softly. “Take care, Franco.”

“You too, Y/N. Talk soon,” he said before hanging up.

Y/N set the phone down, a quiet smile on her face. She didn’t know why she felt so calm after talking to him, but somehow, it felt like the beginning of something she hadn’t expected. A spark had been lit inside her, something she hadn’t felt in a while. Her mind was buzzing, and for the first time in days, she felt truly alive.

She glanced at the clock—still early, though not for long—and something inside her stirred. Without thinking, she grabbed her notebook and walked out of the room, heading down the hall toward her studio. The house was quiet, still, but her mind was racing. As she flipped the lights on in the small room filled with instruments, sound equipment, and all the tools of her trade, it was as if everything clicked into place

The walls, once silent and stifling, now seemed to hum with possibility. She set her notebook down, reached for her laptop, and immediately pulled up her music software. Her fingers hovered over the keys, and within minutes, she was in the zone, the melody flowing almost effortlessly. Ideas she hadn’t known were waiting to be discovered spilled out of her, notes and lyrics coming together like pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t known needed solving.

For hours, she lost herself in the music. The hours seemed to melt away, her focus unwavering as she crafted something new, something personal, something that felt like it was coming from the depths of her soul. She tweaked, arranged, and layered tracks, her mind guided only by the spark Franco had unknowingly ignited. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this inspired.

By the time the sun began to rise, Y/N was still in her studio, headphones on, eyes tired but exhilarated. She hadn’t noticed the time slipping by until she glanced at the clock again. The song wasn’t finished, but it was close. She smiled to herself, realizing that the night had passed without her even thinking about the exhaustion she usually felt. It was as though the music had become the one thing that could make her forget everything else.

She leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she was grateful for this new, unexpected source of inspiration. And in the back of her mind, she knew this song was only the beginning.

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taglist: @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey

[cheeriecherrymain]

papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?

A/N: slowly, slowly, recovering from the creative drought ive been in

it's nowhere near a waterfall again, more like a frustrating dribble, BUT. It's something. But anyways, here is a Papa Viktor Thought Blurb (listen, my sister is almost three months old now, and I am so besotted with her, she's my favourite tiny person, and i am full of Caretaker Feelings)

Content Warning: 18+ MDNI (not explicit, but very very suggestive), afab!Reader, pregnancy, labour and birth (again, not explicit, but still with some depth), papa!Viktor, no beta no editing we simply die

Imagine Viktor, and him believing he'll be alone for his entire life - working so hard to make some kind of legacy for himself, putting everything he has into his creations and his machines. Every calculation, every experiment a labour of love.

This is how the world will remember his name.

At least, he hopes.

But then he meets you.

You're charming, he has to admit. You make friends wherever you go, and you have a weird habit of bringing people out of their shells. There's just...something about you that makes others want to bare their souls to you. Something that draws people in.

Like you have a tangible sort of gravity, and wherever you go, someone ends up in your orbit.

He won't mean much to you, he thinks, after conversing with you a couple times. You're creative, like he is, and you're enjoyable to talk to. But nothing more. Sooner or later, you'll continue on somewhere else, making waves and drawing attention. And in your wake, he will be left to sink. It's what expects.

Except...

You don't leave.

Your chats start out small. Short and sweet, a How are you today? wondered whenever you pass each other in the halls a couple times a month, curious about the goings-on of his life.

He never has anything interesting to tell you about. No adventures or tales to tell, nothing beyond the walls of a cramped and cluttered office.

You must be bored, he thinks.

But then you start seeking him out. Instead of just catching up for a couple minutes whenever you happen to walk past each other, you hunt him down in his office - and god, he wasn't lying when he'd told you it was cramped.

You're amazed he even has the space to think in there, with how tight it is. Yet you still shimmy yourself into the tiny room, careful not to disturb any piles of papers, and find a careful seat on a spot of open floor beside his desk. There's no room for a second chair, and you've always made it clear that you dislike standing when you're having a long conversation.

It's nice to sit down and rest somewhere together, you'd told him one time.

You grow closer after that. From seeing him a couple times a month, to a couple times a week, to literally every day. You don't seem to care that he never has anything 'exciting' to share with you, even going so far as to chastise him for calling himself uninteresting.

Your experiments are cool, you'd insisted, while leafing through one of his old journals. It's incredible to get to see how your mind works, and how creative and inventive you are. You have so many ideas, Viktor, and I really believe that they could help people.

Something changes in him, after that. He'd always been quieter around you, listening to your stories, and dutifully answering your questions: never quite letting you in.

Now he looks forward to seeing you.

His heart skips a beat every time he hears you knocking on his office door, a chipper little pattern reserved only for him. You know that he doesn't always like dealing with students after hours, so you'd come up with a way to let him know that it was you who was greeting him.

Things progress...surprisingly natural.

He's not subtle by any means, even if he thinks he is. The moment he realizes that he has feelings for you, all bets are off. His cheeks dust pink whenever you're around, his palms get sweaty and he fidgets, and the staring.

Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.

You can't not kiss him.

You spend the next couple years having the time of your lives. Moving from classes and overbearing internships, to actively working on experiments. Collaborating with each other, drawing up ideas and debating functionality and form. The two of you get so heated when you're creating things together.

Neither of you are surprised when it devolves. Wide gestures and hasty chalkboard sketches, impassioned explanations and wild eyes - you bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over him, in all his dishevelled beauty. Hair a mess, tie crooked and loose, shirt partially unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Many nights are spent like that, cooped up in his little laboratory, surrounded by sketches and blueprints and scribbles and stray notes. His fingertips digging into the soft of your skin as he kisses the breath out of you. The rhythmic clunking of his crooked desk most telling, as he draws forth your little squeaks and sighs of delight.

Absolutely ruining you, filling you, stretching you open. Feeling the way you tremble in his hands, held tight to his slender body as he reaches so deep into you that you'll feel him for days.

Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck when he finds his own release - to stay quiet, he tells you. But you both know it's his way of marking you.

Claiming you.

You're his. You're his person, his love, his partner. Your eyes only ever shine the way they do when you look at him.

Your body, splayed out and spread before him, quivering and gasping and covered in a thin sheen of sweat - his.

Your taste, sweet on his tongue - your mouth, your skin, your arousal that drips out of you whenever he so much as looks at you.

His.

And he knows, without a single atom of doubt, that he's also yours. So entirely entangled with each other, neither of you knowing how you'd managed to exist separately before now.

How had you possibly found beauty in every day, when you'd never heard his voice? Never caught a whiff of his sweet shampoo as he ambled past you? Never felt the warmth of his touch, or the puff of his sighs on your cheek? Never known the tickle of his hair on your bare skin as you slowly woke every morning to find him curled around you, his face smashed into your back and soft snores emanating from him?

No matter, you think. You have him now, and that's what's important.

...until everything changes.

You miss a period.

You tell him about it.

You're both on edge, but he tries to remain optimistic. Cycles can be upset sometimes, he tells you, as if you don't already know. (You're certain he's really just trying to reassure himself.)

But deep down, you know.

You can feel it in the all-encompassing tiredness you wake with every morning. In the random bouts of nausea, and the sudden food aversions. The back aches, and all the sudden new smells you can detect.

You know something is amiss.

And he knows, too, when he finds you one time in the middle of the night. Standing in your shared little kitchen, in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator.

Pulling pickles straight out of the jar, dipping them in mayonnaise, and sinking your teeth into them. Like they were to most delectable thing you'd ever ingested.

You're both terrified, of course.

You're not really surprised that you've managed to fall pregnant - not with the way you two lust after each other practically every night, and sometimes in the morning. Maybe even once or twice in between meetings, when you're both squished together in his compact office.

Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.

And certainly not right now.

But...you want this, you realize. You want this with him. You want a family with him, you want the evidence of your love - you want a future with him, and you want to see what beautiful little person you'll make together.

Would they have his eyes? Yours? He hopes they have your smile, he tells you, eventually.

It takes you by surprise, his words, what with how quiet he'd been since you'd both figured everything out. You'd been worrying that he wasn't really on board with keeping the baby - with being a father. And you hadn't blamed him, really.

You'd been beyond stressed at the idea of raising a child alone. The thought of him leaving you, leaving behind something so intrinsically tied to him, had been slowly breaking your heart. You hadn't wanted him to stay simply out of obligation - you know you wouldn't be able to cope with the eventual resentment that such an action would breed.

But to know for certain now that he'd only been anxious?

That he wanted this with you, and was excited?

You're so happy that you immediately burst into tears, squeaking and sniffling and snotting uncontrollably while Viktor bites back a laugh and herds you into his embrace. Stroking your back and murmuring the sweetest things to you while you try to catch your breath, leaving gentle kisses all over your face.

Telling you all about what kind of person he hoped your little one would be.

Your smile, most certainly, he said, resolute. You have the most beautiful smile. You light up the room wherever you go. Maybe your sense of humour, too. And certainly your compassion.

Your tears slowly began to lessen, as you let yourself be lulled by the comfort of his arms around you.

Your hair, though, you insist, smushing your face into his shirt. You look so pretty in the mornings, all fluffed up and in disarray. It's the cutest shit I've ever seen.

That garners a laugh from him.

I want them to have your eyes, as well, you admit, albeit somewhat shyly. I've never seen a colour like yours, so intense and complex. Way back when we first met, and you looked at me for the very first time? I almost lost the ability to breathe. It was...it was like I knew, right then. That you were the person I wanted to spend my life with.

He squeezes you a little bit tighter, stooping down to tenderly slot your lips together. Slow, lazy, intimate. Sharing breath and warmth and love and-

He takes you again.

Right there, in the dim quiet of his office, not seeming to care if anyone passing by in the hallway might hear you. Spoiling you absolutely rotten, speaking praises against your skin as he brings you over the edge again and again and again.

Pupils blown wide as he sinks his fingers into you, crooking them perfectly as to reach the spots he knows will drive you mad. The papers strewn around the room don't matter - they don't even cross his mind, as you wriggle and squirm and quiver and cry out for him.

How could they, when all he can focus on is the way you look when your body tenses up, another wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, culminating in your lovely little noises, and the addicting feeling of your pleasure dripping down his fingers and over his palm, soaking him thoroughly.

He would be happy to have you like this, as frequently as you would let him.

He knows how sensitive you must be by now, not only from his ministrations, but also from the way your body is changing. He's done his fair amount of reading since discovering your pregnancy - he's aware of all the ways you might be feeling.

The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.

The all-encompassing, single-minded lust you might go through.

He's ready to please you, however you might want - his fingers, his mouth. And whenever you might want. You could wake him up in the middle of the night, for all he cares. You could nudge him from the sleep that he so desperately needs, and he'd ask not a single question besides What do you need, darling? How would you like me?

What he doesn't expect is his own desire.

You're beautiful. You always have been beautiful. Even as things change, he was absolutely certain that you would never stop being beautiful.

It's you, so of course he's going to want you.

But seeing you now, whining and looking at him like he's hung the moon in the sky, specifically for you? Your tummy already growing round with the life that you've made together, visible proof of your love? Desperate whimpers falling past your lips, begging him for more, for him to fill you up again and again and again?

He can't resist you.

Even when he starts to ache, and his arms start shaking, and his throat is raw and dry from breathing hard and calling out for you.

He can't resist you.

You're insatiable.

So is he.

He's a little more careful as the months progress. Manhandling you less, digging his fingers into the soft fat of your hips a little gentler. He's cognizant of how you're most comfortable, watching in awe as you tremble on top of him, grinding down on him and taking his entire length into you like you were made specifically for him.

Nearly every day, you beg for him.

He loves you.

And when the time eventually comes for you to waddle carefully into the labour centre, meeting your midwife along the way, Viktor tries to keep his worrying quiet. Tries to stay by your side as a supportive pillar, regardless of how well or not he might actually be able to hold you up.

Holding your hand, kissing your knuckles. Trading his fingers for a stress ball when you squeeze a little too hard (and then another stress ball, stronger this time, when the first one explodes in your fist after a couple minutes. It shocks both of you, but to his surprise, you start laughing).

He tenderly dabs the sweat off your forehead as the hours go by, keeping your hairs from pasting themselves to your face and neck. Staying nearby as a source of comfort, but not so close that you feel smothered by him - allowing you the space you need to wiggle around as you see fit.

Telling you stories to distract you, listening to your complaints and observations as his words become unable to mask the pain of your contractions. Doing his absolute best to bite back a fond grin as you breathlessly curse him for doing this to you.

I didn't mean it, you tell him, as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes wide and tearful with sorrow.

I know, he promises, leaning forward to press his lips to your dewy skin.

You sigh happily.

It's not for another couple hours that your baby finally decides to enter the world.

You're beyond exhausted, and Viktor is starting to get fidgety with his worry. Is it supposed to be taking this long? he wonders internally, keeping his questions to himself so as not to stress you out even more.

The midwives, to their credit, are incredibly skilled. Staying by your side throughout the whole process, carefully monitoring everything they need to in order to make sure you're healthy. That the baby is healthy. He knows that they would say something, if anything was truly wrong.

And when the little one finally arrives, she does so kicking and screaming, making an absolute ruckus in the quiet room. The door is shut tight, keeping the sounds of the busy establishment at bay, and the curtain is drawn for your privacy so no one can see in when the staff come and go.

But when your girl begins shouting her absolute displeasure into the air, Viktor swears he can hear some quiet clapping and cheering from the hallway. He doesn't know if it's for your success, or for something and someone else entirely - but for a moment, he likes to believe that there are some strangers out there who are happy for him.

They don't know his story, and they don't know yours - but they've heard a great cry from somewhere hidden and full of struggle. An all-encompassing wail that confirms the presence of life, shouting to the world I am here, I am alive, and I have absolutely no idea what's going on!

He doesn't know when the tears start trailing down his cheeks.

Perhaps it's when he first lays eyes on your girl, pink and cranky and a little bit squished. Putting up a fuss on your base chest, scrunching her little face up as you speak softly and tenderly to her.

Perhaps it's when one of the midwives hands him a very soft towel, instructing him on how to carefully pat away the blood and fluid still clinging to your child. His eyes growing wide when he oh so gently cleans her off to reveal more of her tiny features.

She's still new, and needs time to decompress (so to speak), but he stares at her with such rapture. Taking in every inch of her, burning her face into his mind so that he might never forget her. Ever.

She's still new, and yet he can already tell that she has your nose. And your lips. Your smile, he realizes, with a palpable joy spreading through his chest.

His tears eventually dry, if only so he's able to better see you and the newest member of your family. Laying kiss after kiss to whatever part of your skin he can reach. Stroking the tips of his fingers over your girl's hair - her tiny arms and shoulders, her chubby cheeks, the bridge of her nose and over her brows.

But some two hours later, when you're finally allowed to rest in your comfortable hospital bed: when your baby is now dry and fed and swaddled up happily in Viktor's arms?

The tears begin again.

Privately, in the dim of the room, while you snooze a couple feet away from him, he weeps. Silently, and without so much as a sniffle. He cannot stop the wetness that rolls down his face, even if he wanted to.

Your girl is finally relaxed, after her grand, dramatic entrance. On the edge of sleep, warm and with a full tummy, making funny little expression while she dozes.

Much to Viktor's delight, she has a head of fuzzy brown hair - dishevelled and sticking in every direction, not matter how the midwives had tried to tame it. It'll settle down in a few days, they'd promised. But he didn't care.

The wild mop on top of her head rivalled the chaos of his own. The same shade of chestnut, though perhaps less coarse in texture. Maybe it will grow to the same thickness eventually, he thinks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he imagines how much he's going to have to help her with it as she grows.

Brushing the inevitable tangles out with a soft brush. Pulling the strands back into braids so she can run around and play easier - or maybe little buns on the top of her head, he realizes, the image conjuring up in his mind.

All at once, pictures pop through his head, so vivid and bright that he can almost see them appearing in front of him.

Watching your daughter grow. Sleepless nights of taking care of her, catering to her every whim. Making sure she's fed, and comfortable - entertaining her with silly little toys that make silly little noises, bright colours painted across them. Reading her books with bright, enticing visuals for her to stare at, despite the fact that she doesn't know what words are.

Making trinkets for her as she gets a little older. Things that help her learn, but that also keep her excited and enticed, encouraging her exploration of the world around her. Teaching her to walk, by helping her strengthen her little legs. Sitting on a footstool, a wide smile on his face, as you hold her by her arms and support her as she figures out how to use her legs while upright. Leading her right over into his waiting arms.

Until she's able to balance on her own, after a number of weeks of practising together. Pushing herself up into a wobbly stance, doing her absolute best to try and balance. Maybe she stumbles a couple of times, but she's persistent -stubborn, like he is- and continuously rises back up until she's able to make it over to him on her own. Giggling and wiggling when he scoops her up and praises her and showers he in affection.

Teaching her about anything and everything, the bigger she gets. Answering every question she has, no matter how confusing or senseless - encouraging with his own suggestions, and prompting her to discover some answers for herself. Putting together little experiments for her, so they can learn together and so he can watch her eyes widen with the joy of new information.

Fixing her toys for her whenever they break, as she brings them to him with misty eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Papa, it fell apart, she says sadly. To which he pulls her onto his lap, regardless of what work he was doing, and helps her repair the damage. Letting her watch and observe when she's still too small to hold a screwdriver, and carefully explaining things to her when her motor skills start to develop more.

And then helping her figure out in what way her toy broke, when she's a little bigger. Asking specific questions, so she can work to connect all the dots herself. Helping her gather the materials that she needs in order to fix things herself, and praising her to the high heavens when she presents the finished product to him.

The little thing is slightly lopsided, but he fully believes that it adds to its charm - tells her as such, when she sighs about it not being the same as before.

It's a little uneven, just like me, he says, with a laugh.

And, much to his complete shock, she wraps her little arms around him, and gives him her strongest possible squeeze.

It adds to your charm, she parrots back to him with complete honesty. I like you, Papa.

And once again, for the umpteenth time throughout his daughter's life, his eyes well with tears and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

She could go anywhere she wanted, once she grew up. Learn anything, do anything, be anything. Perhaps she'd enjoy the sciences, like he does - machinery, and building, and designing, and inventing. Maybe she'd get into art, and spend her days painting or sketching, or writing, or making music - inspiring other people with the things she makes.

It doesn't matter, though. Because no matter what she ends up enjoying, or where she goes in her life, Viktor will support her with his entirety. Even when she grows all the way up, and inevitably leaves home to begin her own life, whatever that may be.

He knows he's going to cry then, too. So many years together, and yet it will still never be enough.

But for now, he sighs, staring adoringly down at the tiny infant in his arms. For now, they have time. He vows silently to never waste a single moment with her, and never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. No matter how busy or frustrated or tired he gets, he won't let her grow up feeling unwanted or unloved or unimportant.

He'll give her a better life than he grew up with, and that is both a promise and a threat.

After all, he would do anything, for her.

His greatest creation.

[prof-peach]

Bit ooc but I have a question. How you do go about planing out your PLA comic? Like how do you actually turn your ideas/ storyline into comic form? Is it chapter to chapter or do you have the whole idea already planned out? Trying to find my own way in comic making so I’m just wondering if you could give any advice. Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel comfortable answering

So, at first this was al i could think to send.

because its incredibly accurate to my process.

Jokes aside, a lot of how i work is back and forth chaos, fighting with ideas until im happy with them. I will start with a list (usually not written down because im unhinged and keep a ot of it in my brain) and organise it in a way that makes sense to the situation, in this case workign with a game with an established plot...not that its a very strong one.

with a set of ideas, and a game to work around i will ramble and rant to a few choice people who i bounce well off, and also stare into space for hours on end building the ideas. This process can be days, it can be years. For context, i have some notes from 2019 about things i wanted to include that are still relevant. I have been scheming how to break and rebuild this OC for ages. Theres no correct time frame, so long as you simply do the work.

Once i have a fairly loose plan, i start to solidify the benning and the end. What is required to make a character compelling, what makes them believable, what makes them human in a way that we recognise. this isnt always a positive thing, people like to call characters who do bad things problematic, but its human nature to make mistakes and be damaged or difficult, the process of the story is not always rainbows and sunshine. For me, this hits even harder, as im trying to tell a story from the perspective of someone fundamentally broken, so showing those breaks and cracks has to be done wisely.

This is the point where i make notes about things that need to change from the start to the end. And ill say one thing, this story in particular, I have not solidly planned the middle. I am allowing space for me to come up with new ideas at points. Being locked into a dead set of ideas can be quite limiting, and as creators we consume and process things constantly to generate new stories. Id be a fool to make a plan and stick to it. everything i do is vague guidelines.

However, I know exactly how the story ends in Hisui, and where it goes to from there. And i think me personally knowing the end goal makes it easier to plot steps towards that, and some of those steps are anything but progressive.

If nothing else, the end was the only thing i saw clearly, and it has only become more complex and loaded and emotional as the rest of this has fallen into place. If you can see the goal, you can work out how to get there with time.

Regarding the chapters, i tend to draft plan up like 3-4 of them at a time, and then go in order to sketch out one after the other, so i have plenty of time to change things while i adjust. its constantly a process of seeing what you make, seeing issues, and scrapping whole parts just to redraw something better or new, unique even. I dont think a single page ive posted has resembled the very VERY first draft thumbnail ive made, and thats just how i do. Every panel, how big they are, the angle you hand the viewer, the way you light things, the expressions, this all dictates SO SO much.

Taking time over it is kind of the job, and let me stress, this is normally a job done by a team, especially the highly popular comics. one inks, one colours, one shades, one handles text, one edits, theres so many people behind it, so dont be bothered by the pace at which things are made if youre working alone like i am. One person means longer production times, if you can, spread the workload out, but its not required. Its why i always say it doesnt matter how long it takes to make, so long as youre still making.

I think its also worth noting, comics are consumed quickly, the bakcgournds and small details can be lost in the ace of the storytelling, pick and choosing your battles is wise, save your time on panels where you want the reader to shift along quicker, keep that pace high, and add in more detail and depth to panels you want to champion or get the viewers to hang around on more. its ok to let go of a "perfect" image in favour of getting content out, if youre being driven nuts by it. Again, time be damned, be happy with it. And if you can let go of petty details, id suggest doing it when possible, so long as it doesnt effect the storytelling.

I mean what else can i even say. This work is a passion project, I love it, more than i can even put into words, and i think you kind of have to, to make comics without monetary motivation. sure you can get lucky and find ways to make it big, but for most of us, its the love of the story. So maybe try not to be your biggest hater, its easy to slip into the behaviour, so try be gentle on yourself and the process. I should take that advice myself haha! but i really do mean it. This is HARD work, so be kind to yourself over it.

anyway, with a rough idea, a bunch of sketches, and time, they get inked and fussed over, i make a billion changes to layout and story, and eventually posting can happen but not after fighting with the monster that is creating. Idk what else i can say. This is not work for the feint of heart, but anyone can learn to do it.

Good luck, comic artists can always use it!

[alittledizzy]

this is so random lol but im originally from the dteam fandom and just recently started watching dan and phil a bit so i know almost nothing about them ive seen their sims series and coming out videos and thats about it could u tell me like the basic dan and phil lore for someone who's very new 😭

I love that I got this ask and someone who is a dnp fan who wants to start watching Dream and George on the same day ;_; this one is easier for me so I'm gonna start with it.

Basic lore:

Dan was a fan of Phil when he was a teenager and early/mid 2009 started trying to get that almighty notice by spamming his videos with comments and tweeting him. Phil clearly did notice him and started to engage with him more and more on social media. By September they'd progressed to Skype calls and there were clearly some vibes.

Dan made and posted his first video a few days before he traveled from Reading to Manchester to meet Phil for the first time. They clearly (ahem) got on well, and Dan started traveling to see Phil more and more. Dan's youtube career had a very healthy step up (cough, nepo baby) since he was being immediately and strongly promoted by one of the UK's top youtubers at the time.

By the time Dan was ready to start uni the following year (they met during his gap year), he decided to go to Manchester. Phil moved out of his parents place right around when Dan started uni, and after briefly living in the halls Dan moved in with him. Youtube was starting to be profitable for them both at this point and he wasn't enjoying his law degree so he dropped out in 2011. This was also around the era that they started trying to distance themselves from their (previously publicy confirmed) sexualities and being in a relationship due to various pressures, Dan's mental health, and one fairly big no-fault privacy invasion.

Speedrunning the next few years: Phil got an offer to work with BBC and said he'd do it if Dan could do it with him, which led to them moving to London and getting a radio show with the BBC for a few years. Their youtube careers both exploded, Dan especially, and they had various projects together. In 2014 they started the gaming channel and then ended up getting a book deal and doing their first world tour. Their career continued on in this vague nebulous are they gay, are they together, are they secretly dating women, when will they stop living together bubble until the coming out videos in 2019! Though the last couple of years skewed hard toward glass closet with them being incredibly transparent about being male attracted.

They both came out and Dan confirmed the relationship (though in such a way that people still argue about it now) and then they moved into a place in London they bought and designed from the ground up, sort of cementing the permanance of the relationship. Dan also fucked off for a few years on a very long hiatus (taking the gaming channel with him), tried to get several non-youtube projects launched but failed, did a solo world tour, Phil almost died multiple times, Dan and the gaming channel both came back, and now you're caught up to today!

[amumandherthoughts]

The birth story.

This is a long one..

I was 41 weeks and 3 days pregnant when I had my last 'normal' appointment with the midwife team. It was then that they told me if I hadn't naturally gone into labour in 2 days, then they would have to induce me.

Not exactly what you want to hear with your first pregnancy. Lots of people tell you lots of stories and how induction can be more intense or it was the best labour they'd ever had. Whatever, everyone is different, so I took it all with a grain of salt and hoped for the best.

2 days went by and I had my next appointment where the midwife and Drs recommended a 'Cook's Catheter'. To try and prompt my body to do its thing without the need for an IV.

Well I came back the next morning and still no labour! Shit. I was going to have to be induced.

Ok, so I'm in the birthing unit ready to go (and completely terrified but trying to hold it together).

They take out the Cooks Catheter and I'm 4cm dilated. Great! Almost half way there!!

The nurses broke my water, put the IV in and the contractions began.

Holy shit.

To quote my mum- "they don't call it labour for nothing." Boy, was she right. I had all the pain from my contractions in my lower back, and it was excruciating!

I'd never had anything hurt as much as those bloody contractions! No one told me as much, but I presume my baby was posterior because of all the back pain.

I was using heat pack after heat pack. Having my husband massage my back as hard as he could and it still barely helped! I was using the gas, which I think mainly just helped keep my breathing under control...

After 5 hours, I was ready to up the ante - I asked the nurse for the next step in pain management - Endone.

Well, all of the people who say Endone is the best are all fucking liars. It didn't take any of my pain away, just made me super drowsy and want to fall asleep even during a contraction!

Right, so by this time, I'd had the IV induced contractions for roughly 12 hours, and every time the nurse did an internal exam, my cervix was at 4 cm. There was no change! I could have cried! Well.. I did! And I was exhausted!!!

So the reason it took so long to get to this point was because every time I contracted my baby's heartbeat was waver and so the nurses couldn't increase the hormones to get me to dilate more/faster. They turned it off for a short time, and bub was all good, but then they turned it on, and the heartbeat wavered again.

So the Dr recommended an emergency ceasarean section due to failed to progress. Meaning my body didn't do what it was supposed to and bub couldn't come out!

I was ok with having a caesar, that part honestly didn't bother me. It is what it is and the team I had were incredible.

I had an epidural, which was heaven! For about half an hour. Until it made me vomit and bubs heartbeat wavered again and I needed to lay on my side. Well then the anaesthetic drained to the side didn't it and I started feeling the contractions down the other side again! This certainly wasn't what I expected when they gave me an epidural.

Ok, so after this, we headed to surgery. We're talking 17hrs after being induced now.

I'd never had any sort of surgery in my life. Only ever had mild local anaesthetics!

So when they numbed my torso and down it was the weirdest feeling. So see my legs being moved but unable to feel it. I hated it.

And then, being in the ice-cold theatre, thank God I had my husband by my side because I was downright terrified.

Terrified of feeling pain (which I didn't)

Terrified of the surgery (I would visualise it and freak out)

Terrified something bad would happen to me (haemorrhage or have tools left inside)

Terrified most of all that I wouldn't hear my baby cry.

During the surgery I kept vomiting and felt gross as fuck. The lovely nurse suctioned the vomit from my mouth and all was well.

Bub was taken out, and he cried! So I cried in relief! I can't tell you how much relief I felt about that. He had a bit of a hard time breathing, so I couldn't hold him, and he had to go up to special care. My husband went with him, and I went to recovery (where I slept for 2 hours, apparently!!)

I was then taken to the maternity ward and special care unit to see my bub. So surreal being able to see and touch him! Still no cuddles yet though because he was on the breathing apparatus.

I was wheeled back to maternity and tried to sleep. Though that was difficult being so very numb and worried about tearing stitches or whatever else might've gone on down there.

Thus, my baby boy was born, and I am still emotional remembering these happenings. Very emotional.

It was traumatic and downright awful. Will I do it again? Yes, because it's a small drop in the ocean for what I now treasure more than anything.

[dabuerre]

im currently on episode "Home on the Remains", and honestly, its getting better, with the concepts they use.

"Vitas Mortis" was interesting for the Luxan worldbuilding, but i just dislike that it took D'argo so long, to just, see the situation for what it is, but, it completely makes sense in universe, i just ehh, it made the episode have weird pacing, imo, mostly you just watch the ship fall apart for like 20 minutes screaming BRO ITS HER JUST SHOOT HER but yep hehe

"Taking the Stone" was kinda strange. i could leave this episode honestly. i liked chiana's progression, i just dislike the whole jump thing. idk i dont like this one that much

"Crackers Dont Matter" now this episode was peak haha. seeing fucking Scorpy talk about fucking pizzas and martinis made me laugh way too hard. loved his obnoxious shirt, wanted to get it, realized its super old and people nowadays want like 800 bucks for it so nah im not doing that. cool shirt though. i also loved the dynamic between pilot and the antagonist, especially when he kept screaming "I NEED MORE LIGHT"

"The Way We Weren't" this episode was so sad :( to watch. incredible episode. i love this shit, when they like, reaaally go in to the sadness of the situation. i loved how in the end, Pilot didnt want to kill Aeryn out of anger for her, but for himself :( she was kinda just a scapegoat. sad situation all around.

"Picture If You Will" fun to watch. i love that Crichton is the skeptic in every fucking episode, it makes sense for his character. the return of Maldis also made sense, but i prefered him in the first episode. more impactful? important as well. but the cursed painting is peak

"Home on the Remains" this one is super cool just for the fact that i fucking love delvians, even though im sad they removed her full skin make up, every since this season started ive only seen her in full clothing, but yeah i get it, annoying for the actor most likely. i just wonder, like, couldnt aerynn or whoever just chop his finger off or something and feed her that?? or just, straight up a little blood? i wouldnt really count that as caniballism, but, idfk. i would do it honestly and i would not look at her differently, holy shit, biggest twist of this episode so far is that d'argo likes chiana????? in the intro there is this one frame where he was kissing z'haan so i assumed thats the way the romance would go but chiana?????? i mean she is more like your daugther??? idfk. OH GOD HE KISSED HER. damn i have no idea how to feel about that. it was a nice smooth kiss so that is good but like uhhhh im still not really onboard. whoa??? girlie liked it that much? nevermind im on board haha

"Dream A Little Dream"

i will update this post with more thoughts on future episodes, but no promises hihi

[nereidprinc3ss]

ok finished. i missed dybmn so bad like literally best thing i could have opened this app to yayyyy!! i wasn’t even supposed to read it today like ive been rereading the rest of the chapters but its not something i can ever do at once like i always have to take my time with them and so i was gonna build up to this but i got really super impatient and ended up caving before 7 am yayyy lets give it up for responsible adults that can totally set boundaries for themselves

they are so cute. they are SO CUTE they will always have a special place in my heart but i love them so much i love their dynamic so much they are so back like they never left and we are all the happier for it. reading this was such a good experience because there were probably like 3 points where the chapter could have cut off like thought it was going to end but then it kept going and idk how much that sounds like a compliment now that ive typed it out but i promise you it really truly is 😭😭😭 jt was like but wait there’s MORE and that’s not to say the chapter felt really long cause i do read fics very slowly LOL idk what it is but i like to savor them so it usually takes me. While even just to read a couple hundred words on here but anyway the point is that i was really happy like you totally delivered even though there was never any doubt

unfortunately no university level peer review for today i’m just very excited and happy their interactions had me kicking my feet i’m serious i honestly just missed them so bad. spencer is so delicious like the way u write him is so YUMMYYY plz call me good girl and sweet thing and make me so flustered that i can’t sort through my thoughts omfg needdddd. also r is so funny the navy seal comment made me giggle and also the sheer twilightness of almost crying cause she wants that cookie soooo effing bad is hilarious me and u both sister girl. sometimes x reader is so fun when u consume it as another characters story that ur just watching over and can relate to

one thing i will say though is u do such a good job of setting a scene like it’s one of those things people deserve more credit for cause u don’t usually notice it unless it’s done wrong LOL but i don’t really visualize in my head while i’m reading but little things like how u wrote spencer pushed off the counter or like they walked to the back of the store in x aisle idk my brain kind of like Knows what ur talking about. ur like well yeah obviously cause i wrote it LOL idk how to explain it really but u do a really good job of setting a background even though it’s an underrated skill did any of that make sense i hope so sorry anyway

we are sooo back also the progression of the story is excellent i hope you feel better about it an also knowing that it doesn’t have to be a grand epic sometimes things can just be FUN and still be incredible and u cracked that code sam seriously not to sound all high and mighty and omniscient but i hope you can just enjoy it without feeling all this pressure even though that’s so much easier said than done. anyway now that i’ve written an entire dissertation in your inbox it’s time to clock out love u all hail nereidprinc3ss 🧸

Yayyyy ily ily yes I am feeling much better abt it now!!! I honestly do agree like I very rarely read the reader as myself yk like she’s usually some kinda faceless entity and I love her as a character who is not even me but also it’s extra fun cause she completely also is me like I get to make her talk how I talk and do what I’d do and I love it and I love that other ppl love it and thank u for being so sweet and kind as always lover!!!

[pitaficionado]

Contrasts IV

After that unforgettable night we shared together, Derek and I became even more intimate, our connection deepening in ways I had never anticipated. The lines between desire and affection blurred as we explored each other’s bodies and vulnerabilities with increasing fervor. In a moment of trust and excitement, I decided to give him a key to my apartment, a gesture that signified our blossoming relationship and the level of intimacy we had reached. It felt like a natural progression, allowing him to come and go as he pleased, and the thought of him having the freedom to surprise me with spontaneous visits sent a thrill through me. With that key, we sealed our bond, creating a safe haven for our secret encounters, where we could fully embrace our desires without the constraints of the outside world. Each time he walked through that door, I felt the weight of our connection grow stronger.

I was surprised to receive an invitation for Derek's wedding in the mail. It was a very elegant, thick, heavy invitation that practically radiated the significance of the occasion. As I opened it, my heart raced, both excited and anxious, as I read the beautifully crafted details announcing the upcoming nuptials of Derek and Seth, to be celebrated at a luxury resort in Sedona. The exquisite design and the grandeur of the venue took my breath away, a stark reminder of the life Derek was committed to with someone else. A wave of emotions washed over me—joy for him, yes, but also an undeniable pang of longing and confusion as I grappled with the reality of our relationship. The invitation felt like a turning point, a marker of the complicated dynamics we navigated, and it left me wondering how our secret connection would evolve in the shadow of such a monumental event.

The invitation also included a beautifully printed image of Derek and his fiancé, Seth, hugging and smiling at each other in an incredibly intimate way. Their faces radiated joy, and the genuine affection between them was palpable, capturing a moment that felt both tender and significant. Derek’s smile was bright and carefree, a stark contrast to the complex emotions swirling within me. It was a beautiful photograph, but it struck me like a gut punch, reminding me of the reality of his impending commitment. I found myself studying their expressions, trying to reconcile the happiness they exuded with the secret world we had built together.

That night, when Derek arrived at my apartment, still glistening with sweat from an intense gym session, his eagerness for our usual, intense lovemaking was obvious. But as he pulled me into his arms, I found myself grappling with a mix of emotions I couldn’t ignore. The image from the wedding invitation lingered in my mind, the joy in his and Seth's faces casting a shadow over our closeness. I wanted to lose myself in his familiar scent, in the comforting embrace we shared so often, but a part of me felt distant, conflicted. Derek’s hands roamed my body, his touch as electrifying as ever, yet my heart was weighed down with questions about where we stood, and what our connection meant against the backdrop of his upcoming vows. He noticed my hesitation, pausing to look at me with a question in his eyes, and in that silent moment, I felt the full impact of our complicated reality pressing down on us both.

As Derek continued to lick and pleasure my armpit, his touch gentle yet fervent, I brought up the invitation, my words almost hesitant in the charged quiet. His lips paused briefly as I explained that I’d thought my attendance was just a playful suggestion, something that would never truly come to pass. I admitted how surprised I was to receive such a formal, elaborate invitation and, even more, how conflicted it had made me feel. Derek listened, his warm breath fanning over my skin, a subtle expression of care in his intimate attention. His hands held me as though to reassure me, as though he understood the emotions the invitation had stirred. And even as he kept worshipping my body in that familiar, loving way, I sensed a soft vulnerability in his gaze—an acknowledgment of the strange, delicate line we walked together and a quiet, unspoken gratitude that I’d trusted him with my truth.

Derek looked at me earnestly, his voice softer than usual, as he explained that he wanted me at the wedding—no questions asked. He confessed that the thought of the two of us, side by side, both dressed in elegant black-tie attire, had lingered with him for days. He imagined us standing there, our bodies heat-wrapped under layers of fine fabric, our armpits growing incredibly sweaty beneath those perfectly tailored suits. The idea had become an obsession, he admitted, one that stirred something both playful and deeply intimate within him. He wanted to share this monumental day with me there, close enough to feel each other’s presence even amid the formal setting, an unspoken reminder of the world we shared beneath the surface of it all. The thought of our shared connection, so subtle yet present in that space, made him look at me with a kind of warmth that was difficult to ignore, a silent plea to be there for him in every way.

Derek pulled my face close, guiding me into his armpit with a slow, deliberate movement, the scent of his skin already enveloping me. As I pressed against him, he asked, almost in a whisper, if I could really give up tasting his sweaty armpits—especially with the thought of them drenched in the intense, dry heat of the desert on his wedding day. His words, mingling with the warmth and unmistakable musk of his body, hit me hard. I inhaled deeply, his familiar scent sparking a desire that felt impossible to ignore, the thought of him standing there in the desert sun, the heat amplifying everything I craved. He knew what he was asking and held me close, his question lingering in the air, challenging me with the allure of that intoxicating ritual we’d built together.

When I came into Derek that night, a raw intensity took hold, sealing a truth that had been simmering within me all along. There was nothing I wanted more than to have him, fully and unreservedly—even if it meant waiting until he was drenched in the sweat of his wedding ceremony. The thought of tasting him, of burying my face in his pits filled with the scent of his commitment, the heat of Sedona pressing down on him, became an irresistible craving. It was more than desire; it was an acknowledgment of the strange, complex love that bound us, a secret ritual that somehow felt like the truest part of him. And in that moment, I knew I would savor every drop, every whisper of his scent, even as he stepped into a life meant to be shared with someone else.

As I found fulfillment in Derek's body, and he buried his face in my pits, inhaling deeply, he suddenly moaned that he loved me. The words spilled out raw and unguarded, catching us both off-guard but ringing with undeniable truth. I felt his breath tremble against my skin, and in that instant, I knew he meant it—no pretenses, no half-measures. His confession hung in the air, deepening the intimacy that had woven itself so tightly around us. The truth of his words resonated through every touch and every whispered breath, leaving us both vulnerable and bound together in a way that defied explanation. And as he held me close, I felt a rush of emotions, knowing that what we shared was rare, real, and undeniably ours, even in its complexity.

[blog-imtsupdates]

week 9

having a lot of trouble trying to get the mesh to a poly count where i can add detail. the mesh kept giving me small artifacts. after getting it so that that wouldnt happen anymore, my program kept crashing allowing me to lose significant progress multiple times over despite trying to remeber to save more frequently.

at this point the whole file wouldnt open anymore. i had managed to export the mesh and open it in blender so i could atleast take screen shots of the progress i had made but safe to say my computer does not have the hardware to make highly detailed sculpts. I am going to try to remesh the more detailed mesh and see if i have better luck adding detail in blender. I want this mesh to be grotesque and i need detail for that.

I had re done the lower jaw atleast 6 or so times and still no luck as it kept crashig either before or during saving/exporting the mesh.

I have had Zbrush crash upwards of twenty times, blender crashed five times and my entire computer shut down seven or more times. Ive lost track.

ive had quite a rough week, i am making progress and i keep working but its worth mention this does not help with morale.

on friday i decided to start doing "detail work" in blender using an older version of the mesh that i had remeshed to have lower poly count.

Ive watched quite a lot of videos on sculpting and all of the detailed sculpts are very high poly very quickly so i really didnt expect this to be that much of a problem. A lot of these vidoes were busts but it should still be posible to make a detailed model.

I was incredebly unhappy with how little detail i could get in and concidered painting over the normal map to just draw on the detail instead but was really worried that would take far too long and would get really confusing. (the most detailed I could get it shown here v smooth shading applied because it was horrendous)

i kept trying to open the higher poly files in zbrush and blender because i really wanted that sculpted detail but the programs wouldnt budge and my computer crashed another two times. Until it didnt!

I dont know what i did differently but suddenly it worked again. I was so exctatic that i could finally do some proper work that i ended up working through the weekend to atleast finish up the details in the face, started the teeth, and started with some more definition on the body.

getting to the more detailed work is great i get to refrence a coupe of folks i found on youtube https://www.artstation.com/chrismasna https://www.artstation.com/joanna_kobierska/albums/1907802 have some incredible work, im trying to do that but more vein-y. i am also refrencing the way coolio art was sculping the feet on one of his models because they are very cool and wrinkly https://x.com/Coolio_Art/status/1724144572903616535?s=20

I do feel rushed and i dont get to work in all the detail i want or the adjustments i want to make because of the limited time we would have for animation if i take much longer. the model will be mostly shrouded in darkeness so it should be ok and animation is very very important for conveying the animal and the scares so it needs time.

some more videos i watched while working on the sculpt: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-QoLorR9qpY https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bgnq1jDYMmw

I have found a video on the work flow for cinematic animation

it look liek the retoplology that is done on modles is still very high poly because its all pre rendered anyway. im still going to look into it more as i clearly dont have strong enough of a computer but maybe someone has found a solution for independent artists that want to create animations that arent for games.

this one is on weigth painting, i dont know if ill be doing that but last time i made a model i had trouble with this so this was usefull incase i do have to weight paint https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EaVG_KOKRnA also preperation for retopology and what to look out for when i get to that

and ofcouse

a cost calculation

hourly pay / hours spent up until the midterm / mid term cost

[lillified]

Hello!! I really love your work and I'm interested in becoming a story board artist myself and was wondering if you majored in anything specific to become a storyboard artist? Ive done research and ive been told that taking an illustration or Animation major would be the best choice to make and im stuck between the two,, what do you think would be the better decision?

hey!! uhh, I’m probably not the best person to ask because a) I’m still VERY green and I absolutely do not want to assume too much expertise and b) I didn’t go to college!! haha!! so this is like. the opposite of my ballpark lol

BUT I guess the moral of the story I can kinda give both from listening to other more seasoned storyboard artists/mentors and my own experience is: it’s not really required??

school can be helpful for multiple reasons: firstly, it CAN (big emphasis on that can) give you a more streamlined general access to the knowledge that you need, which independent study doesn’t always afford. I’ve been able to progress pretty far without instruction, but having a good mentor will help you skip past a LOT of the tedium of hunting for it and hopefully make you more confident in your own abilities (one of my biggest issues in the professional sphere has been decision paralysis! because I’ve been given a lot of freedom to do things but I am very bad at gauging my own skill! it sucks! having some sort of certification and not going immediately from being in high school to working probably would have made things easier!). Another benefit of going to school is, obviously, the CONNECTIONS. If you go to the right school chances are youre gonna be in the same class as a bunch of other future people in the industry, and that will help you out majorly in the long run! point being: there are benefits!

that being said, there ARE downsides. obviously school is expensive, AND if you don’t go to a GOOD school then you probably aren’t gonna get, like, ANY of those aforementioned benefits. it’s not the fault of educators in those spaces, the way the industry works and the way our school system works just makes it incredibly hard to get a good, industry-ready art education at any old school.

also, art in general is not one of those jobs where getting a degree makes you arbitrarily qualified, which is one of the big scams of the whole thing. your WORK is the end all be all, and the only way your work is gonna be up to snuff is if you do more work. getting a good mentor can really help, but plenty of people go to college and get an art degree just to get a degree and then graduate realizing they barely got to actually focus on the type of art they’re supposed to have in their portfolio for the job they want!

so while I can’t really give you advice on the specific thing you actually asked for (so sorry lol i realize how dumb that is) I think that you should do research on what your college of choice offers and what specific things you’re going to learn, and then evaluate which major will best align with your field of choice! every program is different and every school is different. get the most bang out of your buck if you do intend to go to college, and know that the resources are out there for you to learn on your own! look for something that enhances your work and doesn’t detract from it :)

[marriedandttc]

The road to Aurora…

On September 6th we checked in for induction at 10:00 pm and began medication around midnight thanks to lots of paperwork! We initially thought I wasn’t responding well to the pitocin because I never felt contractions… but with the sun up and my wits about me I discovered the pain I’d been feeling in my back all night long was actually back labor and we were making progress! On September 7th at 8:00 am Dr. Eastman came in to check on me. I was dilated to about a 3 which was some progress. I consented to a breaking of the waters and they inserted an internal monitor. I loved the internal monitor, it was so much more reliable. The entire night before was spent readjusting my straps and monitors and it was really tiresome after a while. Following the water breaking I called my doula and she booked it up to come help us! She arrived just in time as contractions picked up following the breaking. Thanks to the internal monitor I had an easy time moving around (just had to carry my IV pole) so we were able to labor in many positions. We began with me bending over at the side of the bed and my doula taught Stephen about counter pressure. He spent the entire time rubbing my back through the back labor - while utilizing some peppermint lotion! This helped a lot as I was battling a headache. When I got tired of that position we moved to the birthing ball and I did some bouncing and some rolling, Stephen still helping my back. And the last switch up we tried was hands and knees on the bed, leaning over/using a peanut ball for support. I think the hands and knees was my favorite! But by this time I’d been going at it for a couple hours and was exhausted so I took some time to lay in bed with the peanut ball. And I have to say… I am incredibly proud of myself. I’ve always said I have no pain tolerance and that I couldn’t do this part. My goal was to make it to 4 CM before the epidural but I didn’t believe I could. But when it came time I focused on my breathing, relaxed every muscle in my body, and just closed my eyes. I was silent and didn’t speak with anyone or make a sound. It was just me and my body, and I did it! When the pain reached a point I could no longer tolerate without some level of panic I requested my epidural. This was a step I feared! Getting one and using it was always a part of my plan but I’d watched videos on how it’s done and I was terrified! My anesthesiologist came in and blew every expectation out of the water. He was fast but organized, explained every touch before he did it, and got it in with ease. I couldn’t believe how simple he made it for me. They laid me back in bed and began waiting on the medicine to work. My blood pressure tolerated it well and I was grateful for the relief. It took away almost all the pelvic pressure and decreased the back labor pain, though never took it away. I continued to labor with the epidural for quite some time. My nurse and my doula worked together and changed my position every 30 minutes for hours upon hours. I used the peanut ball, the stirrups, and various seated bed positions to get baby to drop. We discovered the dilation and effacement was going great, but her station was not changing. No matter how close we got down south she wasn’t finding her way down.

I’m proud to report that all the changing of positions did work and by 8:00 pm I was able to push! I had my doula and Stephen working together on holding my legs for me and I got to work pushing. Baby started off with a posterior face, which made it extra difficult. About an hour into pushing I told them I needed a break and that I felt like I was going to pass out - and then my body began to shake out of my control, I lost nearly all color, and Stephen informed me that my lips turned purple. My blood sugar bottomed out and I was not doing well. They quickly changed my IV from regular lactated ringers to a kind with dextrose in it to help me, and I ate a sucker. After about 15 minutes of this I recovered and went straight back into pushing. We restarted pushing and eventually got the baby past the pelvic bone. It was a glorious moment… until we discovered my temperature was nearly 102. Everything came to a halt while they gathered me some Tylenol and two kinds of IV antibiotics. The fear was that laboring so long after having the waters manually broken had introduced infection to the uterus. While they took care of me they cleaned up beneath me and we took notice that the amniotic fluid now presented with meconium, so we really wanted baby to get out. With my temperature coming down and the antibiotics started we returned to pushing. I got a few in and the baby began to show signs of distress. As it was explained to me the heart decelerating during a push is to be expected to some extent but what they’re watching for is it to go back up AND have variance - wiggles in the heart monitor instead of it being flat when it went up. Aurora’s heart was presenting flat after every return, nearly no variance at all. We decided to roll me onto my side and try laboring that way to get pressure off my blood vessels. We gave it a few solid pushes and saw no improvement - and things went south when my own heart began to act up too and my pulse was lingering around 130-150.

Dr. Holtz took a temporary pause and came up to talk with me. “You are a rockstar. You’ve put every ounce of your energy into pushing and laboring. You did everything absolutely right and I’ve tried every position I can. But you told me all you cared about was that you and baby are healthy and safe at the end of this. It’s my professional opinion that the way we ensure that is a c-section.” I fully agreed. I was exhausted and in pain. My baby was in distress, and my own body seemed to begin following suit. She called for an emergency c-section and everything happened very fast. Within 20 minutes I was on the table and they were working miracles to get us all safe.

Aurora was born at 11:32 pm and came out screaming - beautiful lungs on that girl. Stephen and I locked eyes and we both began to cry. He stayed with me for a short while before he left to go check on our girl. She got apgar scores of 9, which they said they rarely give out! She returned to the room pretty quickly with her dad while they got me stitched up.

At the end of the day it was 12 hours of active labor, 2.5 hours of pushing, and one c-section.

I feel like I’ve been run over by a steam roller today and I can’t do much. I haven’t been able to feed, change, or lift the baby. I do get to hold her with pillow support and Stephen putting her in my arms. It’s very defeating, but hopefully I’ll make enough progress the next few days or experience some of her first days as an active parent and partner.

That said, I have no regrets about my birth experience. I got to at least try everything I was interested in and experience a lot of parts of birth. Unmedicated contractions, medicated contractions, pushing, and a c! I felt supported and heard every step of the way, and always believed I was fully in charge. I feel horrible physically but so empowered and capable emotionally. It could not have gone better.

[miraculous-trinity-leo]

Whacky Gotham, Goofy New York, and Chaotic Paris.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Chapter 5: Then Let The Games Begin

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

Soooo, the Batfam is panicking, Gotham's confused as to why Iron Man is flying over Gotham like a madman, and Maria is with two of Gotham's Sirens (but only Ivy and Harley know this) having a wonderful time playing with Bud and Lou.

Let's start with the Sirens.

Harley is watching over Maria and Tikki as they sleep with Bud and Lou, Ivy walkes over to sit next to Harley, handing her a cup of tea.

"So, what's the diagnosis?" - Ivy

"She has some sort of trauma, has class issues... and handles more than she should, but still does everythin', on top of bein' a hero. She's been through some sh-t Pam." Yeah Harley may have found out Maria's a hero (if the tiny god and magic were anything to go by).

"Is she alone?" - Ivy

"No, thankfully, she has supportive parents, and friends that aren't little sh-ts. I think they're also heroes, she also has a lot, and I a mean A LOT of pent up emotions, she doesn't show anythin' negative, only positive things. She seems to shrink in on herself if she thinks she does somethin' wrong. Pam, we both know there's a limit to how much crap a person can take before they snap, and she's such a sweet kid. There has to be somethin' we can do to help her Ives." Ok she found out alot, but in Marias' defense, they have trustworthy souls, and they were the only other people (besides her friends) that she talked to about it, yes she had her Maman and Uncle to talk about hero stuff, but for the stuff her class does, she only ever vented (without being negative) to her friends.

"Her class is visiting the Botanical Gardens in three days, and it's a 2 part tour, so we can see just what's going on. If it's bad then we scare them a bit, if it's bad bad... they can handle a few slightly poisonous plants right?" - Ivy

"God I love the way ya think Ives, do ya think she can stay with us? I mean look at how cute she is with Bud and Lou... Oh my god, she's cuddlin' dem, and ya gave her a flower crown, how'd I miss that?! Where's the camera?"

Harley took a picture to remind her of this wonderful moment. As Ivy and Harley looked at the picture, they both promised to keep Maria safe, and maybe become sorta kinda-ish parents to her while she's in Gotham.

•—–·Now back to the Bat-Chaos Bat-Cave·–—•

Tim took over the chair and was now searching the possible locations with Jarvis, Damian was sitting on a different chair, trying to act cool, but he wouldn't stop looking over at Tim, to see his progress. Bruce was talking over the comms with Tony. Dick and Jason, weren't helping (they kept feeding each other worse and worse ideas of what could have happened to Maria). Then they heard Jarvis speak.

"I have found the most likely area Ms. Dupain-Cheng would be in. Her phone died about 56 blocks away from her hotel, if we don't count kidnapping, or murder, she would have thought about asking for directions, but may have decided not to considering the city she is in. So that leaves us with a possible 15-25 mile radius from her last known location. I think it best to divide into groups of two, have Oracle stay and update you if anything on security, and or traffic cameras happens. Bruce will be with Tony, Dick will go with Tim, and Jason will go with Damain to search within the area. Stephanie and Cassandra will search around a 5 mile radius near Wayne hotel." as Jarvis continued to explain the other details, the Batfam began to suit up, Batman met up with Iron Man, and they took the North area, Nightwing and Red Robin took the East area, while Red Hood and Robin searched the South. Steph and Cass were on foot in civilian clothes, searching the West area they were assigned.

They searched for the whole day, and came up with nothing. Until Oracle saw a video from a traffic cam around 9pm, 15 blocks away from where her phone died. She called it in and everyone went back to the cave. Once everyone was at the Bat-Computer, Oracle pressed play, the cameras didn't have sound, and it wasn't close enough to see if she was ok.

They watched as she went to an overgrown parking lot and sat down. She was looking down at the ground, and that's when they spotted two figures round the corner and spot her. They watched as the two figures approach Maria, and saw the startled reaction she had. They realized it was Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy that were talking to her, then they saw Maria collapse. They watched as Harley made sure she was ok, looking over to Ivy before looking back to Maria and picking her up. The last thing they saw, was Maria being carried away by two of Gothams' most dangerous rouges, but now they knew where to look next.

•—–· Back to Ivy and Harley ·–—•

Harley continued to take adorable pictures of the children.

"God, they're so f-ckin' cute!" - Harley for the 20th time

As Ivy continued to watch while caring for her plants, Catwoman walked in.

"Hey girls, got the stuff for movie night, so what are we- Holy mother of cats! He adopted another f-cking child didn't he! Where the hell does he keep finding them?! 7 was ment to be the god DAMN LIMIT!!!" - Catwoman

Maria jumped at the sudden shouting and may have accidentally summoned a yo-yo (one made useing creation magic and protection magic) before saying.

"Tikki where's the akuma?! How long was I out?! Forget it Tikki spot-" she then realized she wasn't in Paris, and seeing a new face, she also realized she just spilled her secret to another person within the same day... kinda

"Fffffffffffudge sunday that fell on the pavement!" - Maria shouted in baker profanities

"That's not how ya curse sweetheart. It should go more like-" Harley was cut off by a vine Ivy had summoned.

"Harley, cursing makes the plants sad, you know this." - Ivy said removing the vine

Harley just walked over to Maria and whipsered it in her ear.

"You're supposed to say it more like this, ' ..... .... ... .. ....... .. ... .....' ok?" - Harley ended with a big smile

"... I will never see this world in the same frickin' light ever again." - Maria

"ehh close enough." - Harley

"Can someone please tell me, WTH is going on here, on our special girls day off?!" - Catwoman

"She is a new member of the Sirens as of today, and as a member, she's unda our protection, so effective immediately." - Harley

"Cool." - Maria

"Harley." - Ivy

"Wut... first things first, if she is going to join, she needs to be very flexible, know how to fight, and be incredibly intelligent." - Catwoman

"She beat Ed's @ss with a gun pointed at her, and solved every riddle with ease, so I'm positive she'll be an amazin' addition to the team." - Harley

'God she sounds like a new mother now' "But we don't know how good her flexibility is." - Catwoman

"I know, hey Maria, ya wanna do some tricks with me, of course we need to stretch first, but do ya wanna give it a go?" - Harley

"Sure." - Maria

Ivy and Catwoman sat down on a couch a few feet away from where Maria and Harley stood in the empty part of the building. They started out with stretches, and to Catwoman's surprise (and Harley's delight) Maria copied Harleys streches perfectly.

"Ok, now that that's done, we'll start with some cartwheels, then move on to flips, then handsprings and so on." - Harley

Maria gave Harley a nod... and they were off... literally, Harley did a cartwheel into a handspring, and a few backflips, Maria executed it flawlessly. Harley did some more complicated gymnastics tricks, and Maria did it, Harley did triple backflips going into a cartwheel, into a summersault, and Maria did that perfectly as well. This went on until both Harley and Maria were slightly out of breath, both having massive smiles on their faces.

"Ives, please let her join, she's like a mini me." - Harley then hugged Maria and they somehow both tripled in cuteness as they both did puppy (or Puss In Boots style) eyes at Catwoman and Ivy.

"Sure Harley." - Ivy said walking over to give Harley a small kiss on the cheek.

"Okay... but she doesn't have a costume yet, and she still has to think of a name for herself." - Catwoman

"Is a mouse good, like a mouse themed costume, that or a Turtle themed one. What do you think Harley?" - Maria

"Mmmm, I like that with the mouse you can always toy with Cat, ya know, cat an' mouse stuff, turtle seems... weird even fawh Gotham, so personally I would pick mouse, just because of the cheesy jokes you could do." - Harley

"Very funny, ok then, give me a moment."  Maria then reached out her hand, her eyes then started to glow an icy blue, and a small portal opened in front of her, she reached in and pulled out a small pendant necklace. After she put it on a small mouce appeared and greated itself, Marias' eyes going back to normal after closing the portal.

"Hello I'm Mullo, nice to meet you all."

"Omg omg omg, It's soooo f-ckin' CUTE!" - Harley

"Best to assume all of them are extremely cute Harls." - Ivy

"What the Hell did I miss in the week I was gone?!" - Catwoman

"Ehh, not much, oh but Iron Man did fly aroun' Gotham a few times earlier this mornin' like a madman." - Harley

"Oh sh-t." - Maria

"Maria are ya ok? That was ya first official proper curse in my presence." Harley said looking over to the girl.

"He's gonna kill me." - Maria

"Wait, what do you mean Marigold?" - Ivy

"... He's my Uncle, and I never got to text him I was ok, since my phone died before I met you." - Maria

"Hey, I'm sure he'll understand, now what are we watchin'?" - Harley

"I think we have more important matters other than movies at the moment!" - Catwoman

"Ok, Me Myself and Irene it is." - Harley

"No! You basically kidnapped Iron Mans' NIECE!!!" - Catwoman

"Technically, she fainted and us bein' the good Gothamites we are, decided to take her with us, to make sure she was a-okay." - Harley

"I'm ganna need more than just a six pack of soda to get me through this... Just put the movie on already." - Catwoman

Catwoman sat at the far left end of the couch, next to her sat Ivy, then Maria, and then Harley, Bud and Lou by their feet. All of them sharing one big blanket (Becuase if Iron Man did show up, or any of the birds, then Maria was in a protective burrito and they may not see her right away) and they started the movie.

•—–·–—•

"Oh god, the poor cow." - Maria

.........

"Hahahaha, he stuck a whole f-ckin' chicken head in that guys @ss" - Harley

"The poor chicken." - Maria

"Maria you don't want to see this part." - Ivy then lightly covered her eyes for the ehem, chicken extraction.

.........

"Anyone up for another movie?" - Harley

"That depends." - Ivy

"Any suggestions Cat?" - Harley looked across to the other end of the couch to see Catwoman already sleeping.

"She took her cat-nap already? Seriously?" - Harley

"... What about Pirates of The Caribbean?" - Maria

"I'm good with that." - Ivy

And they started the next movie, Maria was happy, it felt like when her maman and papa would sleep with her when she made a pillow fort. It was a loving atmosphere, it felt safe, and nothing could ruin it. Marias' eyes became heavy, and she leaned her head on Harleys' shoulder, falling asleep after a few minutes.

Ivy paused the move looking over to see both Harley and Maria sleeping, soon Ivy also fell asleep in the comfortable silence.

…………………………

Around an hour later Maria woke up in a panic, she had a nightmare, and kept looking around frantically for someone with tears running down her face.

"What's the matter hun?" - Harley said looking around to see if someone had gotten in. When she looked back at Maria she saw that she was crying.

"What happened?" Harley asked in a kind voice that was filled with motherly love.

"I, just *hic* had a bad dream that's *hic* all, I'm fine." - Maira said trying to wipe the tears away.

"You're ok, I promise nothin's goin' to happen to ya as long as Ivy and I are here, ok hun?" - Harley hugged Maria, and she could feel the girl let out a few more sobs, and quick breathes.

"Thanks Maman." Maria didn't even realize what she had said, it just felt natural for her to say it.

"You're welcome hun." 'Omg I'm gonna cry, she called me maman!' Harley rubbed small circles over Marias' back, and began humming until she fell asleep, she continued to hug Maria until she also fell asleep.

•—–· Back to the Chaos Bat-Cave ·–—•

"What do you mean she's with two of Gotham City's Sirens?!" - Tony

"Tony, calm down, I'll call Selina, she can talk to them and get this all sorted out." - Bruce

"Your fiancee is a Gotham Siren too?! Why didn't you tell me?!" - Tony

"Why isn't she picking up? And unlike some people, this family doesn't like outing our secret identities... on live TV." - Bruce

"Oh well excuse me for not keeping my secret identity a SECRET!" - Tony

"I'll try calling her one more time." - Bruce

"Bruce, it's 3am. Who in their right mind ever stays up this late.... aside from this family." - Tim with a giant coffee mug in hand.

"... I'll just call her one more time." Bruce then connected it to the Bat-Computer so everyone could hear.

•—–· Back to the Sirens ·–—•

Catwoman's phone is ringing like crazy, waking everyone up, including a tired, annoyed, and confused Selina.

"Wth does he want at 3 in the morning?!" - Selina

"Just answer it so we can keep sleepin'." - Harley still hugging Maria

"I'm putting it on speaker, so you lot can testify against his @ss in court, for disturbing the peace."

•—–· Over to Batsy ·–—•

"Selina I need to ask-"

"WHAT THE F-CKING HELL DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND ABOUT A GOOD NIGHTS REST!" - Selina

"Oooooh, she sounds pissed Bruce." - Jason

"I'm sorry to call you at this hour, but we need to find a girl that looks just like every single one of my other kids." - Bruce

"Bruce... I thought we agreed that 7 kids was. the. f-cking. limit." - Selina

•—–· Back to the Sirens ·–—•

Selina looked over to Maria before muting the speaker.

"Do you want them to know you're here Kitten?" - Selina

"... I'm tired, I haven't had coffee, I have no filter, so f-ck it, act like you never saw me today, and let them drown in chaos. " - Maria

"I think I like filter less Maria." - Harley

"Okay." Selina shrugged her shoulders and then un-muted her phone, putting it back on speaker mode.

"Where was she last seen?" - Selina

"She was last seen with Harley and Poison Ivy, I want you to see if she's still with them." - Bruce

Selina looked over to Maria and Harley, both of them shook their heads with mischievous grins.

"I've been with them all day, and I haven't once seen a girl that looks like your kids. Now can I go back to sleep, and forget this ever happened?" - Selina

"WHERE IS MY NIECE!!!" - Tony

"Oh, hey Tony, didn't know you were there, don't know who, or where your niece is, but good luck trying to find her. Oh and Bruce, I'm shutting my phone off so you don't keep calling till the butt crack of dawn. And congrats it's now 4am. you owe me a lunch date, uh-ba-bye." Selina then hung up her phone and turned it off.

"That went pretty well if you ask me, now I'm going back to sleep." - Selina

•—–· Back to Batsy ·–—•

The room was silent for a few minutes before Jason spoke up.

"Does that mean that Pixiepop ran away and is even more lost now?!" - Jason

"Oh god, what do we do, what if she got hurt?!" - Dick

"What if she got kidnapped?!" - Jason

"What if she's with a big time Gotham Villain?!" - Dick

"... What if she got more coffee?" - Tim

"Oh Hell No" - Jason/Dick

"... Lets all go to sleep, and when we wake up, we'll head over to their base and double check. She could've just said that because I called her at 3am." - Bruce

"But my niece is still out there!" - Tony

"You're going to sleep Tony." - Pepper then dragged Tony to his room.

•—–· Back to Maria ·–—•

Selina went to a different part of the building, where Maria assumed the bedrooms were. Ivy had gone to the greenhouse to be with the plants, and now it was just her and Harley left on the couch, and she couldn't sleep.

"... Harley?" - Maria

"Yeah hun?" - Harley

"I can't sleep." - Maria

"Well, watcha wanna do till ya get tired?" Harley asked sitting up a little straighter to get a better look at Maria.

Maria gave a sly smile, and looked Harley in the eyes "Want to go free-running on the rooftops?"

"... Alright, but lets get some coffee, and a snack in us first." - Harley gave her a side hug, before getting up to go make the coffee, and grab some snacks.

After they had their coffee, they climbed to the roof of the base. Harley was in her outfit, bat in hand and ready to do some bonding.

"So, how does ya outfit work?" - Harley

"Like so, ready Mullo?" - Maria

"Yes Maria" - Mullo

"Ok, Mullo, Get Squeaky!" A bright light flashes, and when Harley could see again, Maria was in a dark gray suit, wearing black knee high boots, with a strip of pink at the knee, and black elbow length gloves with the same pink strip at her elbow. Her mask was a slightly lighter gray on the top part, and pink on the bottom. Her hair was pulled into two buns with pink ribbons that faded to gray, and to black at the very tip. Her jump rope around her waist forming a tail going just below the back of her knees.

"Just when I think ya can't get any more adorable. So what should I call ya?" - Harley

"You can call me Multimouse." - Maria

Soon they were racing and doing tricks off different roofs, they were really enjoying themselves. From one of the roofs they heard a commotion in one of the alleys, when they looked down they saw a man holding a woman at gunpoint.

"Not good, seems like he's got issues, probably lost his lover, most likely has additions to drugs and alcohol, and seems to be a little tipsy." - Harley

"I've got a plan." - Multimouse

…………

Multimouse droped a little way behind the guy, grabbing his attention while Harley got the lady to safety.

"You know there's a help center two blocks from here that would be more than willing to help you." - Multimouse

The crook just raised his gun to her trying to keep it steady as he spoke.

"Give me all your money little girl, or else I'll hurt you."

"1. That's not how you hold a gun. 2. That is no way to treat any girl. and 3. Instead of money, I'll give you my jump rope." - Multimouse

"Why the hell would I want your jump rope, that thing looks worthless." the crook lowered his guard enough as Multimouse pretended to hand over her jump rope, only to use it in a quick motion to dismarm the man, as Harley promptly knocked him out with one swing.

"Lets neva have ya at gunpoint again, okay hun? I'm afraid my heart can't take it." - Harley said while tying the crook to a lamppost.

"Sorry, but it was the best idea I could come up with at the moment, besides, any guy with a gun would feel like they have the upper hand if they're facing a random little girl with a jump rope, rather than Gothams' Harley Quinn with a bat." - Multimouse

"Sadly I'm just too popular with the kiddos on the street." - Harley

…………

They continued to stop a few more muggers on the way back to the base, and when they got back they peaked around the corner to see the whole Batfam plus Iron Man talking with Ivy and Selina.

"How much you want to bet we can get back out before they see us?" - Whispering Multimouse

"... Lets try hidin' in the kitchen." - Whispering Harley

As they tried to sneak by (still in their costumes) Selina just walks over and draggs them to the group.

"Here, now let me sleep!" - Selina

"Dang it Selina we wanted tah see just how long we could hide out in the kitchen!" - Harley

Selina did a double take now realizing they both went out.

"... You didn't." - Selina

"We wanted tah go free-runnin'! So what?" - Harley

"She could've gotten hurt Harls." - Ivy

"My suits magic, I am invulnerable to bullets, normal magic, swords, knifes, anything staby staby, and I can withstand any temperature in it." Multimouse said with a slight pout.

"Hold up, is she a magical girl?" - Red Hood in the background

When Selina let go both Harley and Multimouse went behind Ivy for protection.

"We can still make a run for it." - Harley whispered to Multimouse

"... Ok, I'll meet you on the roof." - Whispering Multimouse

Harley gave a nod as she slowly inched her wasy closer to the door that lead to the roof, as she saw Iron Man approach Multimouse.

"Please get out of your suit, we need to talk about why you're here-" - Iron Man

"Multitute!" - Multimouse

Harley then saw Multimouse shrink into dozens of tiny little versions of herself as her clones spread out in all directions, one of which was heading right for her.

"Wth, you never told us she could use magic!" - Red Robin

Harley picked her up, and slipped through the door without anyone noticing.

"That was great, but how do ya get back tuh normal size?" - Harley

"Simple, I just merge back with my clones." As she said this, all her clones came back, and she merged with herself, becoming normal sized again.

"Where to?" - Multimouse

………… So now The Batfam is trying to find many long gone Mini-Multimouses, and Harley seems to have disappeared with her. Harley and Multimouse are now running over the roofs, heading for Wayne Manor.

"So why are we going to Wayne Manor?" - Multimouse

"Because, Batsy will neva think of lookin' for us at his own home, at least not fawh a little while." - Harley

When they arrived at the Manor, Multimouse de-transformed as Harley knocked on the door.

"Ms. Quinn, Ms. Maria, pleasure to see you here, please come in." - Alfred

"Are any of the bat-birds here?" - Harley

"Ms. Barbara, Ms. Stephanie, and Ms. Cassandra are the only ones here at the moment." - Alfred

"Do ya think you can keep us bein' here a secret from Batsy?" - Harley

"Harley? What are you doing here with Maria?" - Barbara

"It seems that Ms. Harley and Ms. Maria are now playing hide and seek with the rest of the family." - Alfred

"Did someone say hide and seek?" - Steph

"Yes, so could we maybe try and keep this a secret from everyone else, please?" - Maria

"Sure, it was starting to get boring around here. We can all hide in the living room no one ever use. Barbara you show them the way, I'll get the food/drinks and boardgames." - Steph

"Is this alright with you Alfred?" Maria

"It's all right Ms. Maria, you can hide out in the old living room." - Alfred

"Thanks Alfie, ya the best." - Harley

"Thank you Alfred." - Maria

"Ok then, follow me." - Barbara

…………

In the old living room, Harley, Maria, Barbara, Steph, and Cass began to formulate a plan.

"Ok, so the best way for them to never find you is to have your phone off, stay away from any and all cameras, and show your face to no one." - Steph

"So, do you have anything in mind that you might want to do?" - Barbara

"Can we put them on a wild goose chase?" - Maria

Cass nodded to Marias' suggestion approvingly.

"I can hack a few traffic cams to help with that." - Barbara

"We can also throw in some useless hints, to throw dem even further off our scent." - Harley

"Good idea Harley." - Barbara

"Thanks, but how long do ya think we should make it last?" - Harley

"As long as Maria wants it to." - Barbara

"Then let the games begin." - Maria.

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

Chapter 5 complete. Hope everyone is stayin' safe, Rockin' those Positive Vibes, and havin' an absolutely wonderful day. BUG-OUT 🐞💮🐞

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[a-square-minus-one]

Honey 10

Thank you for those who have stuck to this progressing story. Here is the new chapter. You can find the whole story on AO3 and fanfic. 

I killed him.

Raven wakes up long before the team realizes she has. She can’t even register the itchy hospital bed sheets on top of her; her limbs are glued to the cot. Her chest expands as she breathes but she’d struggle less breathing underwater.

Malchior was a disgusting being. Intent to create chaos wherever he went. His only goal was to wreak havoc because he could and because no one could stop him. His life’s work was figuring out ways he could outdo his last destructive feat. His eyes only twinkled when he was asserting his dominance over something.

And she had killed him.

Or at least, separated his consciousness from its physical manifestation.

Or can you even separate that?

She made his limbs stop working.

His mouth would no longer form incantations.

Where would his thoughts go?

Would he be able to sort them or even hear them?

Or were they just whispers on another plane of existence?

Nausea makes Raven sit abruptly, the IV tugging painfully in her arm. She feels more than tastes the vomit fly out of her mouth. Chunks  of yellow bits propel out onto the floor next to her, right by Starfire’s purple boots. Starfire is quick to move Raven’s hair out of the way, despite the fact that doing so sinks her boots right into the undigested food. A few tears escape Raven’s eyes.

“Star…” she groans, making a feeble attempt to push Starfire out the way but the alien just shushes her and rubs her hand over Raven’s back. A green hand extends a plastic cup of water towards her.

“Small sips,” Gar reminds her. She takes the cup out of his hands and raises it to her lips. Raven stiffens when he moves closer, replacing Starfire’s hands with his own. She stares over the rim of the cup at his torso, feeling her eyebrows crinkling. He picks up the hair from her neck. She hears a snap and feels her hair moving left to right. Then he’s at a reasonable distance again. She places a hand on her warm, now bare, neck.

“You-” she clears her throat. “-you can tie a ponytail?”

“Can’t you?” Garfield asks, looking incredibly amused. She feels her face heat up as she places the water on the tray next to her and lays back on the cot. She looks to Star’s boots and then to her face.

“I’m so-”

“Shh I will be hearing none of that friend,” Starfire says, handing Raven a wipe. Raven wipes off one side of her lips. Her hand pauses when she gets to the other side.

“How many civilians?” Raven asks, her fingers trembling behind the tissue. Garfield immediately straightens out his relaxed shoulders. His jaw tightens. Starfire looks down to her feet. Raven turns to Cyborg.

“Two.”

Two fingers touch her lips as the contents of her stomach turn again. Her eyes well up as she swallows around the undigested food rising in her esophagus.

“Ages?” she asks in an almost imperceptible voice.

No one answers.

She clenches her fingers around the wipe and presses it to her forehead.

“Ages?” she pleads.

“54 and 65,” Cyborg says; his rage is like a hot iron in her side. Raven feels Starfire’s despair pelting her on the other side like an open waterfall. Garfield’s emotions are all sharp corners and metal bristles. She can’t even bear to approach the edges of it for fear that she’ll pop and everything will come pouring out of her. She sinks back into her cot trying to tighten her core under the pressure of all their emotions. She almost finds balance in the current until she senses something, like seaweed twisting on her toes when she’s swimming in the ocean.  

“You’re not telling me something,” she says, eyeing Garfield who hasn’t looked her way since tying up her hair. She almost didn’t want to ask considering how tenuous her hold on herself is.

“There was a six year old boy,” Nightwing says, entering the room with arms crossed over his chest. He leans against the doorframe of the med bay. Raven lets out a long breath. She spends a lot of her life thinking about how she breathes. Breathing is the first step to meditation. Right now she wonders what it would be like to be trapped at the end of a long exhale.

“He-”

“Is in ICU,” Nightwing finishes. She brings knees to her chest and sinks her head into them, gripping the fitted sheet on the cot. Her throat is one fire.

“We have to visit the family,” she says, looking at her team members. Everyone pauses.

“We did,” Garfield says, scratching the back of his neck the way he does when he’s pensive or nervous. Raven squints her eyes. She lays her legs flat on the cot.

“I have to visit the families,” she says, shifting to get up. Garfield quickly puts his hands on her shins and she almost kicks him off in surprise.

“You can’t,” Garfield says.

“Why not?”

“The public doesn’t love us right now,” Nightwing says, moving from his position at the door.

Then she feels it, pressing against her. Fire, all around her, filling the gaps between her fingertips, licking up the back of her knees. She almost gasps at the intensity of it.

“You’re angry,” she says, quickly looking up at Nightwing. A few strands of her hair have escaped the ponytail Garfield made for her. Starfire steps forward.

“We all are,” she says. Raven doesn’t look her way, keeping her eyes locked on the immobile Nightwing. This is a different anger. Nightwing knows she knows; their bond hasn’t faded in the years since she went into his mind.

“Where’s Malchior, Raven? Nightwing asks, his index finger twitching against his bicep. The fire around her stops all together. Something cool, fragile, and thin settles over them like a layer of frost on water. Then Raven makes the mistake of looking down. A fireball hits her in the chest like a cannon, she tumbles backwards on the cot.

“Damnit Raven!” Nightwing says. She looks up at his face, now red underneath his mask.

“Yo dude, chill out. She just woke up,” Garfield says. Nightwing whips towards him, his index finger inches away from Garfield’s chest. Raven is ashamed that she feels immediate relief at Garfield’s expense.

“How about instead of worrying about Raven you explain to me where the hell all the animosity for me came from?” Nightwing says, leaning much too far into Garfield’s personal bubble. Garfield leans back and tilts his head.

“Dude, clearly that wasn’t me.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re not you when you transform into other animals?” Nightwing poses this as a question but the fact that each word is coming out like hisses between his clenched teeth makes it seem like he has already decided his answer.

“You know this isn’t just one of my other animal forms and could you check your tone?” Garfield asks. Raven feels his irritation like pricks from a cactus. She wiggles her fingers.

“Everytime the Beast has been present, I have been targeted,” Nightwing’s tone is even when he says this but punctuated in a manner that suggests he has ruminated on this and has already come to his own conclusions. His words sound rehearsed.

“That’s just not true and either way I’ve shown you for years that I’ve been able to control my powers as much as everyone else on the team, if not better.”

“You weren’t able to two days ago.”

“We don’t fight magical dragons everyday,” Garfield bites out and Nightwing swivels towards Raven again.

“And apparently we never will again!” Spit flies out of Nightwing’s mouth as he leans over the end of Raven’s cot. She sits up straight even though Nightwing’s words land heavy like a punch to her stomach.

“Almost sounds like you’re going to miss him,” Raven hisses back. Nightwing’s face is so red that Raven is sure it will explode off of his body.

“How can you be so desensitized to the loss of a life?”

“Jesus Nightwing relax!  It isn’t like she hunted this man down, which is more than I can say about you and Slade...every six months...like clockwork!”

“And yet he’s still alive.” The muscles on Nightwing’s neck are straining as he turns towards Garfield, bumping his chest a little. Any other man would have taken a step back and on any other occasion Garfield would too but right then, he doesn’t.

“Is that because you haven’t tried or because you’ve never gotten close enough,” Garfield says, jutting his own chest outwards so it bumps Nightwing’s.

“Much closer than you did when he turned Terra into stone.”

“Dude what in the actual fuck?” Garfield growls.

“That is quite enough!” Starfire yells, wedging herself between the pair. “You have both done the crossing of the line! Friend Raven is barely recovered!”

Neither man stands down, glaring at each other over Starfire’s shoulders. “Are you going to arrest me Richard?” Raven asks, chin tilted upwards. Nightwing turns away from Starfire and removes his hand from his utility belt.

“He will do no such thing-” Starfire starts.

“You’re not being fair,” he says. Raven tilts her chin higher and arches an eyebrow.

“If you are not going to arrest me then we have more important things to talk about right now than any morally ambiguous decisions I made that there is no way I can undo,” Raven mumbles. “Even if I really wanted to.”

Nightwing runs a hand through his hair then drops both of his hands on his hips. He’s looking her in the eyes. Anyone else wouldn’t be able to tell because of his mask but she knows he is. He’s trying to consolidate all his anger into a concentrated cube. She respects the effort. Garfield, who is hunched over like his spine is ready to break through the skin of his back, clearly does not.

“We have two of your brothers in custody. Lust and Gluttony. I will be handling interrogations. You can watch from another room. ”

Raven sucks in her bottom lip. She knows her brothers better than Nightwing but she’s on thin ice with him as is. She’d have to let him cool down a little before she can get anywhere near that room.

“If you’re going in alone, I need to heavily armor you.”

Nightwing shrugs stiffly. She nods.

Behind Nightwing, Garfield takes his exit; his anger is radiating off of him like an electric heater. Nightwing looks after him, his lips in a straight line but doesn’t try to stop him.

“How much of a dick was I?” Nightwing asks once Garfield has left the room.

“12/10 bro,” Cyborg says, rubbing his forehead. Nightwing cringes.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” Raven says, looking at Cyborg and then towards her IV. Cyborg looks hesitant at first but eventually sighs and does as he’s told.

...........................................................................

“This is very carnivalesque.” Raven says as she sits next to Garfield on the roof. Garfield raises an eyebrow at her “Usually you’re the one who comes to see me on the roof.”

“What?” Garfield asks.

“Nothing,” Raven says, looking down at her feet. She’s not as good as he is at this.

“You should be in the med bay for observations.”

“With all the healing it would be very hard to kill me,” she says. She feels a few fat drops of rain smack her cheek but Garfield doesn’t flinch so she stays put. Raven looks up at the thick clouds moving in the sky.

“Do you think you’ll die like the rest of us?” Garfield asks. Random. Raven hums. “I mean your father...sorry I know it’s a touchy subject-”

“No, go ahead,” Raven says, keeping her eyes on the sky. A warmth spreads in her chest like when she drinks hot tea. It’s been nice for her to see how delicate Garfield is with her boundaries in the last couple of years.

“Trigon is immortal. Does that make you immortal too?” he asks.

“I really hope not,” Raven mumbles immediately. “I’m not a god.”

Her mind immediately goes to Malchior’s lifeless body beneath her.

“Don’t lose any sleep over him,” Garfield says. Raven hums again. “Malchior. That’s who you’re thinking about, right?”

Raven looks away from the sky. Garfield’s lashes are dark and long. He’s green almost everywhere but around his pupils there is a rim of orange that she’s always been fascinated by.

“I took his life away,” she says, curling up her bare toes. “I-I’m afraid…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Garfield interrupts softly. She feels the warmths curl through her insides again. She has to break eye contact.

“I don’t know if I made the right choice. It kind of feels...heavy? If that makes sense.”

“It makes sense.”

It grows quiet again.

“Nightwing was more angry at me than he was at you,” she says. Silence.

A few drops of water land on her thighs. She’s getting a little cold now. She had only come out in the oversized t-shirt she was wearing in the med bay. She thinks it’s Cyborg’s. It fits her like a dress.

“I think he might be right.”

Raven looks up at him, ready to protest. The protests die on her lips when she makes eye contact.

“I keep banking on the fact that I can control the Beast but it kind of sucks. He’s pulling at me all the time.”

“He doesn’t like Nightwing?”

“...He doesn’t like Nightwing’s power over me. Doesn’t like that he’s the one who calls the shots. Which is the complete opposite of me. Usually Nightwing and Cyborg are the ones measuring their dicks to see who gets to be boss.”

Raven snorts.

“Would it be so bad to let him out every once and a while? What else could he want?” Raven asks. Garfield presses his lips together. And his silence stretches like cheese. Just when she thinks it's about the tear, it stretches some more. For much longer than it should. She can’t pinpoint exactly what changes but she is suddenly hyper aware of how long she’s been looking into his eyes. She isn’t about to let on that she noticed the shift though because that would mean that it actually happened.

But maybe she should move?

Or look down?

Why isn’t he saying anything?

Did he lean forward?

Breathe Raven.

She inhales sharply.

There is a flash of lighting in her peripheral vision.

He doesn’t break eye contact.

“Can I see the scar The Beast left?” he finally whispers, keeping eye contact. Oh, that’s what he was thinking about.

She can’t think straight. What did I think he was thinking about? She pulls up her shirt without a second thought, looking down with him...

Then screams internally when she remembers she isn’t wearing any pants.

She freezes. Thunder rumbles.

He doesn’t say anything. She wonders if she’d hear him anyway over the long  ‘AGHH!’ reverberating in her head.

She looks up at him; he hasn’t said anything about her lack of pants. Instead he’s staring intently at her side, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip wedged between his teeth.

Breathe. The team has changed in front of each other before. No big deal.

She wishes she can get a clear read on his emotions but she can barely get a hold on hers.

Then he reaches out his fingertips and slowly runs over the ridges of the three bumpy stripes on her side.

This time she actually shrieks out loud, dropping her shirt immediately. A few rocks on the shore explode into a million little fragments. He pulls his hands away like he just accidentally touched a stove.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry! Jesus, I don’t know why I did that,” he squeals immediately, running a hand through his hair roughly.

Aghhhhhh

“No! It’s... um...fine.Your fingers were just cold.”

The skin around her scars is burning.

Aghhhh .

He shuts his eyes so tightly that she can see little wrinkles at the edges of them. It looks like he wants to turn into a mosquito and fly away. She stays quiet. He places a hand over his eyes.

“Listen...I...I’m sorry about that. The touching,” his voice squeaks. He clears his throat. “But also giving you the scar in the first place.”

He reluctantly moves his hands away and looks at her again.

“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt Nightwing. I don’t want to ever hurt you,” Garfield says, his skin changing from brown to green as his blush fades.

Agggghhhhh.

She hums.

Not the right response.

He sucks his lips into his mouth, face getting incredibly brown just as it was resuming its original shade.

“I-” he starts.

She looks at him.

He looks at her.

He flies away.

[supercxrpschild]

Help me hold onto you

okay hey hi hello, this is me coming back to writing slowly!! i know i’ve put things out here and there, but from now i’m aiming to be a little more consistent (if my mental health allows)

this is going to be an on-going story (i’ve already started part two!) with lena and kara navigating parenting an extremely traumatised teenage reader, and their growing relationship. 

(song title from The Archer - Taylor Swift)

Help me hold onto you - part one

Word Count: 850

Taking you in seemed like a no-brainer to Kara when she and Alex found you in the Cadmus facility.

Lena, however, was harder to convince. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to – in fact that’s all she wanted – but she was terrified of the prospect of possibly not being the parent you deserved after all that her family put you through.

“I don’t know Kara…” Lena looked back into the medbay, your unconscious body laying while Alex drew blood from your arm.

“Lena, she’s a teenager who has lost all her family. Hasn’t known love in years. We can give that to her.”

Lena bit her lip; Kara could sense her girlfriend’s anxiety. “Hey,” the blonde cupped Lena’s face, “you’re amazing with kids. Ruby adores you.” Lena scoffs.

“Yeah but I’m not responsible for Ruby.” Kara sighed.

“Darling, I promise I do want to take her in. I just, like you said, she deserves love. She deserves the best – what if I can’t be that?” Kara kissed her softly,

“You are incredible. We’ll do this together, and we won’t be perfect, no. But we’ll do our best. We’ll make her feel safe and loved again.” Lena thought quietly for a moment before nodding her head and squeezing her love’s hand.  

It was now quite a few days later. You woke up almost 24 hours after they brought you in to the medbay, and they had to give you a mild sedative when you did.

No one knew what you endured at the facility, and you were determined to keep it that way. The people that found you seemed nice enough, and so did those who you’ve met since being at the DEO. You just couldn’t tell them.

You really hadn’t experienced anything resembling care in years, so hearing that Kara and Lena wanted you to come live with them was baffling.

“Why?” Kara furrowed her brow,

“Why what, sweetheart?” You picked at the bandages covering your arms,

“Why would you want to do that?” Your question was so genuine that it made Kara tear up. You really didn’t understand why anyone would want to show you love.

Lena stepped in then, giving her girlfriend a break. “Y/n, you have been through something none of us can even begin to imagine. You deserve to have a safe place to call home, and we want to give you that. Will you let us?” Green eyes poured into yours.

Hesitantly, you nodded. Lena sent you a small smile and rubbed Kara’s back.

Alex walked into the medbay to see you sitting up with Kara and Lena talking a bit.

“Hey kiddo, you look a bit brighter today.” Alex had been the one to deal with you mostly the last few days. Given the fact she was there when you were found, you didn’t trust any of the other doctors at the DEO to be near you. After what you experienced, anything regarding medical equipment sent you into a panic attack.

“Yeah, I guess.” You shrugged as Alex begun the routine you both had compromised on. Kara and Lena stood either side of the head of your bed as Alex lowered it all the way down so you couldn’t see anything but their faces. They began talking to you, distracting you from the fact the Alex was drawing blood and pulling out the IV.

A little while later, Alex returned and stated that you had absorbed enough nutrients that you were no longer critically malnourished. You would still need regular check-ups to track your progress, as well as frequent visits to clean your wounds. But for now – you were free to go.

“I’m just a phone call away, Kara, you know that.” Alex whispered as Lena helped you change into some clothes she bought.

“Yeah, Alex, thank you. She’s got a long road ahead of her, we’ll just take it one step at a time.”

Getting you out of the DEO wasn’t a challenge they anticipated though.

“I, I think I think I should just stay here.” You stood frozen in place.

Kara placed her hand on your back, and you flinched. “I’m not going out there.”

“What’s going on, y/n?” You wrung your hands,

“I haven’t been anywhere but the, the…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the facility; but Lena caught on. You hadn’t been anywhere but the DEO and the Cadmus facility in years. Of course you would be terrified of anything else.

Lena moved in front of you, not touching you, but ensuring she had your attention.

“I know it’s so beyond scary, y/n. I know. But you are so strong. We will be here the entire time, and we’ll go at your pace.” Kara smiled at Lena as she watched her girlfriend realise that maybe she could do this; maybe she will be okay and will be able to take care of this sweet girl.

It took a little more coaxing before you said okay, but you did, and Kara and Lena were really proud of you.

[iceeckos12]

tma fic recs

I’ve seen a couple of fic rec posts floating around. since ive been reading so many excellent fic recently, i thought that id make one as well! please note this list is going to be 99% jonmartin. also buckle up, because this is going to get long.

Completed

the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)

"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees

Notes: This is probably my go-to fic if i want an apocalypse never happened scenario. The jonmartin is wonderful, as is the h/c.

Diary and Prenon-nous la main by luftballoons99

Diary summary:

Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.

or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.

Prenon-nous la main summary:

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

Notes: Do you love impeccable safehouse jonmartin characterization? do you love characters grappling with the mortifying ordeal of being known? do you love softness so tender that it makes you want to weep? please read these fic. im begging you.

i’ll tell you about all the times i’ve smiled because of you by cryptidkidprem

Summary:

Martin thinks about their shoes, sitting beside each other on the floor by the bed. Thinks of the way Jon wears Martin’s cardigans more often than he wears his own, the way Martin’s started keeping elastics around his wrist because Jon always forgets his own when they go out.

He thinks about all the gentle touches and fussing over each other they’ve done, and how much is still to come over the next… however long Jon will have him.

They have a long way to go, an entire life to build out of the wreckage Jonah Magnus and Peter Lukas left them, but laying together in a comfortable, sleepy quiet, Martin thinks they’ve got a good start going.

Or, Jon quits the Institute, saves the world, and it turns out to be exactly what he needs in order to heal and start moving forward towards building a life with Martin.

Notes: how many times have i reread this fic? more than i can count. jon quits the institute and it’s just full of soft jonmartins. they get married! god i love them.

go softly by doomcountry

Summary:

And there is nothing else besides this.

Notes: every time i remember this fic i reread it. please heed the tags because martin is blinding jon, but he’s like. blinding jon in the most heartbreaking way possible. idk how the author made this so tender but i know i was certainly crying so!

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by  Wolftraps (AlwaysBoth)

Summary:

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

Notes: Do you like time travel fixits? i sure like time travel fixits. reverb is an excellent one. heavy on the h/c, I wanted to hug jon so so badly. 

Yesterday is Here by  CirrusGrey

Summary:

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

Notes: Yet another time travel fixit! also excellent. the teasing was HYSTERICAL. also Im just going to say this now - CirrusGrey in general writes incredible tma fic. You can’t really go wrong.

unassigned supplementals by  bibliocratic 

Notes: I won’t put in a summary just because it’s a long series of oneshots, but bibliocratic’s writing is amazing. Again, you can’t really go wrong with one of their fic!

let the soft animal of your body by autoclaves

Summary:

Standing in the warm kitchen, slats of sepia light filtering through onto the counter in front of him, Martin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He half expects them to go through the countertop entirely, glossy and solid as it is. He isn’t used to any of it, yet. The safehouse. Jon. Beams of sun pouring into his hands. After being deprived of everything of significance for so long, the longing that crashes over him is almost painful in its tangibility. He wants to laugh, to sob, to scream and hear it echoed back against the neat, square walls of the safehouse.

In the end, he doesn’t do any of these things. He makes eggs instead. He can do that, can’t he? Use his hands for something simple and plain and good.

(Or: In the safehouse after it all, Martin starts cooking.)

Notes: this fic really speaks to me a) because i project on martin like crazy and b) because food is also my love language. this fic is incredibly soft and it’s all about cooking!

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” by shinyopals

Summary:

I hope you find your new role as Head of the Institute as rewarding as captaining the Tundra, wrote Elias Bouchard, to Peter Lukas. There are so many people working there: all with their own interesting lives, and all desiring your attention and support. I'm sure you will relish the challenge it will bring and enjoy every moment spent with the fine men and women of the Institute. In time I'm confident they'll become like a family to you.

The Magnus Institute has a new boss. The Magnus Institute also has a new tech support technician. These two facts are unrelated, except they both happen at the same time.

Meanwhile Jon's woken up from being dead for six months and for once he's trying his best. He just wishes Martin would stop avoiding him and answer his messages...

Notes: if you’re looking for a good laugh, this fic is SO SO SO FUNNY. i was dying. basically the magnus institute being an absolute bureaucratic nightmare.

hello my old heart  by  firebirdsuite

Summary:

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Notes: it’s all about the yearning. and trust me, the yearning in this fic? im just. i sure do love jonmartin, and this is such soft, loving jonmartin it just makes you want to cry

two ships passing by pyrites

Summary:

Gerard Keay is 10 years old the very first time he tries to run away from home, right around the time that Jonathan Sims has just come into possession of his first Leitner.

Or: One dropped stone can change the way the whole ocean moves.

Notes: again, JONGERRY. MY GOODNESS. this fic is beautiful, the writing is absolutely breathtaking and it owns my heart. im so in love with it. the author said you’re going to have emotions about jon and gerry and jongerry and i said OKAY

Terminal Sight by viv_is_spooky

Summary:

Spider silk weaves through the visions of two Seers. Monstrosity is dawning on them both.

Notes: I’d never read a gerryoliver fic before this, but the execution is EXCELLENT and now im sold on the ship forever. This fic has wonderful prose and great characterization and i love it a whole lot.

Incomplete

assistant archivist au by  PitViperOfDoom

Notes: I won’t put a summary since I’m reccing an entire series, but. it is absolutely no secret that i adore jongerry. pit’s assistant archivist au slapped me over the head with some gorgeous jongerry oneshots and then gave me the gift of the main fic (which is still in progress) about head archivist martin. i love this au so so much

dustsceawung by  callmearcturus

Summary:

Martin had always been favored by the summer courts, and moving up north to the little village of Lacuna is a difficult adjustment. It's rainy and lonely and everyone seems to have a strange, distant relationship with the local faerie court.

However: there is a strange man in a cloak who walks past Martin's remote little cottage every few days.

However: there is a moth that keeps getting stuck in Martin's house during the rain.

These events are not as disconnected as they first appear.

Notes: you ever just read a fic that you didn’t know that you needed until after you read it? yeah. featuring the fae and moth jon and excellent characterization.

Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou

As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.

-----

Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.

Notes: This is also the moment where I reveal that im a sucker for jongerrymartin. please read this fic. gerry is brought back from the dead in s4 and everyone is far better off for it.

where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten

Summary:

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?

What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."

________________________

Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Notes: this time travel fixit is shaping up to be an absolutely incredible read. i love the way this author writes jon so so much, and the characterization is spot on. this whole fic just satisfies some little part of me. god. also!! bubonickitten’s writing in general? beautiful. please check out their other works.

The Timeline of Theseus by Applea

Jon tries to force the Spiral to send him back, but the Sprial's corridors never twist things quite the way you want them to. Back in 1996, Elias has no idea why or how the Eye made such a powerful Avatar out of an 8 year old, especially when said 8 year old doesn't actually know he has any powers at all. Clearly such a child cannot be left outside the Institute's care. 

Notes: This fic is legitimately brilliant. The author manages to capture the big ADHD mood and the precociousness of baby Jon while managing to write a wonderful storyline. Time travel! Elderly lesbians! A Jonah who is wildly in over his head but was walloped over the head with paternal instinct! Baby Gerry! What more could you possibly ask for?

rooms full of people who do not love each other yet by seaer

Summary:

“Wanted to ask about a book.” The boy has his hand on the counter, and he leans into it, nonchalant. The library is air-conditioned, but by no means frigid, and Jon can’t help but feel sweaty just looking at the layers he’s wearing; what looks like old leather over an olive-green Magnus pullover over his school shirt. “Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Jon says, tetchily, “We’re about to close.”

“I know. Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Notes: I am so in love with this author’s writing style and the way they write the characters!! The jon and gerry friendship is PERFECT and the character interactions are all darling.

if you read these fics please send the authors some love, they definitely deserve it!!