Yeah, so no one's tagged me in this, but I’ve seen it floating around the dash and wanted to do it anyway bc I’m morbid. TW/CW, of course, for discussion of death and illness—absolutely zero pressure to read, interact, or participate if this isn't up your alley.
1. Does your OC die before or after their lover? How old are they when they die?
2. How did they die?
3. What were their last words?
4. How are they mourned? How do all their loved ones react?
Answers below the cut for Rowan Lavellan because I've spent more time thinking about this than I'd like to admit.
His slightly older self, post-Veilguard.
1. Does your OC die before or after their lover? How old are they when they die?
Rowan goes before Dorian, even though he’s about 7 years younger than Dorian is. (In any of his OCxOC verses, Rowan dies first there too if he was the Inquisitor.) As for how old he is when he goes…. ughhh. My gut instinct has always told me he’s only in his late 50s, which is still so young and I hate that my brain goes there. I’ve been trying to convince myself to push it into his mid-to-late 60s at least, but I don’t know. Let’s just say it’s at some point within that span of a decade or so.
2. How did they die?
Rowan's death is slow, quiet, and a long time coming. He doesn't go down in a blaze of glory or anything, like some might expect that the Inquisitor would. Rather, the residual effects of the Anchor wear his body down more and more as time goes on until he becomes gravely ill.
There was a stretch of about 10-15 years after the loss of his arm that things seemed alright—little more than the chronic fatigue that he’d already been dealing with before when he still had the mark. But after that, his health begins a slow yet steady decline until he spends the last couple years of his life frail, weak, and almost constantly in pain.
Dorian recruits the best healers he can find, not only in Minrathous but across Thedas, in an effort to keep Rowan comfortable and stave off the inevitable for as long as possible. Eventually, the treatments stop helping and the medical attention becomes too much to bear. Rowan asks that Dorian just let him go peacefully and on his own terms.
3. What were their last words?
"It's alright. I'll get to see them again."
‘Them’ being his parents, and the rest of his clan. Said softly, with a small smile that’s as reassuring as he can manage, as he lies there with Dorian about a week or so after he stopped treating his illness. Dorian responds with something along the lines of “and you’ll see me again too, one day.” Rowan nods before he goes to sleep, and then doesn’t wake up again.
4. How are they mourned? How do all their loved ones react?
Rowan is given Dalish funeral rites (similar to what we see in Veilguard for Cyrian). Dorian enlists the help of Varien (Rook) to make sure he gets it right. I’m not certain what the Dalish traditions surrounding burial/cremation/etc are and I’m also not sure where to find that kind of thing atm, but Rowan is cremated afterwards. Dorian takes a couple months of bereavement to travel and spread Rowan’s ashes in various places across Thedas—Rowan was a wanderer in life, and Dorian knows he will be in death too.
Dorian, while he knew it was coming for a long time, is heartbroken and distraught. It didn’t matter how much time he had to “prepare.” Almost like that made it worse, somehow—all the times he came within arm’s reach of losing Rowan (Haven, Adamant, Trespasser, the incredibly painful couple years post-Trespasser, Veilguard) and yet watching Rowan suffer for years and knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it was worse than all of those put together. He heals with time, of course. He knows that Rowan wouldn’t want him to spend the rest of his life wallowing, because Rowan himself lost too many years to grief as it was. He never loves again, though. His heart’s been broken and mended and broken again too many times to risk it, and there’s no one else he’d want to give it to anyway.
He mourns and honors his husband in a lot of little, everyday ways—planting and tending to the flowers (even though he’s terrible at it), making Rowan’s favorite foods (not great at that either, he’ll never make the hearth cakes like Rowan did), rereading his books. And on the subject of books: when Rowan became an author after the Inquisition, he published all of his work under a pseudonym. (He didn’t want his books to sell just because of his name.) Dorian and all of Rowan’s friends/family still respect this after his death, and they don’t confirm or deny it whenever fans question if the author of their favorite adventure novel was in fact the late Inquisitor. However, when rummaging through Rowan’s things one day, Dorian finds a manuscript for an autobiography that Rowan had been working on in the last year leading up to his death, with a note that he wanted it to be published posthumously under his real name.
The book details everything. Lays it all out. Leaves no questions about the kind of person he was, after he lived most of his life in the shadows. Some topics more in depth than others, certainly… but he’d been reminded time and time again that his life was going to leave a mark on the world, and since he knew he was dying, he wanted to make sure that the final words on the matter would be his own. Dorian arranges the publication, and also dedicates as much time as he can to ensuring that the historians get the story straight, so there won’t be any doubt in the generations to come that the second Inquisitor was a brave and selfless Dalish elf—just like the first.
Varien also takes Rowan’s death pretty hard. The two of them formed a close bond after they reconciled their differences post-Veilguard. Losing Rowan is losing a friend, a brother, and the absolute last piece Varien had left of his clan (time heals all wounds, sure, but it never quite closed, even all those years later). After Rowan is gone, Varien takes a solo trip back out to Wycome to find the place where they’d officially laid their clan to rest decades ago. They’d planted three trees together back then, and Varien plants a fourth for Rowan, right in the center.
Super gentle and no pressure tags for some of the list: @the-archons-moustache @in-the-drowning-deep @rooks-dagger @tevivinter @serjory @babydinosaur930 @flowersforthemachines @chaosherald @grand-crow @handsignals @lunastarhawk @mythals-whore @pixiedurango @kogarashi-art @ourinquisitorialness
I don’t know if someone has already come out with anything like this, but I'm developing a new kink meme that I’ve named Bratverse. You’ll find a few things similar to Omegaverse and Subverse, but it has its own quirks.
I'm posting this with various fandoms' tags because all those ships (especially Hucklerobby) had a great influence into this. I'm looking forward to write some fanfics set into this verse...
So, here’s a quick overview of it (let me know what do you think about it):
Adults are designated either as Brats, Tamers, Swings, or Blanks. Up until they come to age and figure out their designation, children are called Buds.
Every designation has its own traits (poses, mannerism, facial expressions, vocal noises etc). They are all more or less biological, and more or less societal enforced. Thus, as every person is their own individual, anyone may or may not show those traits, and eventually shows them in their peculiar way.
Brats make around 35% of the adult population, and they are teases. Meaning they periodically have to be tamed, a pull that they show bratting around until someone settles them. In the long run, an untamed Brat can turn dangerous for themself and others. Common traits when they are bratting, other than verbally taunting, are: hands on their hips, stomping, rolling their eyes, pouting, scoffing, hissing, biting, shoving, jutting their chin. Whereas, when they are settled: purring, nipping, rubbing, good manners. A special spot is held by the playful teasing: it features tickling, sticking out the tongue, smirking, and verbal taunting leaning more on flirting; it's a display aimed at triggering a mild tame, often used to entice a reaction from someone they want to pursue as a lover.
Tamers are another 35%, and they are… well, tamers. They thrive when they have someone to settle, a pull that they show hovering around until they find someone in need to be settled. An unfulfilled Tamer can drop into depression and self-harm. Common Tamers traits when they are triggered, other than verbally warning, are: arms crossed, stance firm, gruffing, glaring, squinting, tutting, manhandling, growly voice, clenching their jaw. Whereas, when they manage to settle a Brat: humming, rubbing, gentle touching, praises. A Tamer who’s playfully teased and feels attracted as well, usually responds with huffing, roughhousing, and sweetened verbal warning to match the flirting.
Swings (25%) are people that shifts between Brat and Tamer mood, depending on their own mental and biological state; as well as if they find themself with a Brat or a Tamer (or another Swing already in a mood) that is in need to be taken care of, or to whom they are attracted. When they are shifted into Brat o Tamer mood, they display the traits from one of the previous designations, but their common traits when they feel balanced are: hands clasped behind their back, calm smiles, warm voice, direct eye contact, avoiding touch, following people some steps back or leading them a few steps ahead. Swings often bond between each other because of their shifting biology needs, but it’s not uncommon to see a Swing bonded with an individual of any other designation.
Blanks are people that don’t show any significant trait from any of the previous designation. It’s speculated they make 5% of the adult population, but it’s not certain because they are often mis-designated (purposely or accidentally) as Swings. Their designation was long disputed, finally gaining recognition only around 50 years ago. Before that, they had been treated like children or mentally ill. Either way, they didn’t have any rights, and their fate was determined by the law of the state where they lived. In some states there were facilities for them, were Blanks were held for much if not all of their lives; in others, a judge assigned them a guardian to take care of them; there has been a moment in history when reconversion therapy for Blanks was very popular. In the old days, a common choice for Blanks to escape their fate was to choose the less cruel bust still strict spiritual path and enter seminary. Luckily, all of this is in the past, and now Blanks can live their life as full citizens. There’s still a lot of bias towards them, though, and some bigoted people still call them slurs or engage in microaggressions with them.
There are no strict rules about pursuing like there used to be, but a lot of people still rely on the old fashioned way of carrying these things. So even nowadays it’s customary for the Brat (or the Swing in Brat mood) to engage first and showing their interest, bratting playfully at the one they are attracted to. It’s upon the other one to answer the bratting with an equally playful taming, thus officially starting the pursuing, or politely ignore the call. It’s less common, but not frowned upon, for a Tamer (or a Swing in Tamer mood) to engage first. In this case, the pursuer would either: wait patiently until the pursued is showing bratting traits, and then try to tame them (bold and possibly dangerous, when already riled up in full on bratting they can turn very aggressive); or just act straight out like they have already tamed them, and go with playful taming, praises, and gentle touches (even more bold and it rarely works out, but at least it’s less dangerous, the worst that can happen is being laughed at by the pursued).
It’s considered very disrespectful at best, borderline harassment at worst, to try and tame or tease someone without their consent. Notable exceptions are: people whose needs have been neglected to the point of turning dangerous to themself and/or others; people engaging in playful taming/teasing a particular person they fancy to let them know they are interested in pursuing; younglings (freshly designated Buds) that are still figuring out how their designation works.
Despite its close link to the pursuing rituals, the dynamic taming-teasing is not a thing strictly for couples, nor is inherently sexual or romantic. When a person doesn’t have or want a partner, it could also be acted in these cases: between close friends or family members; during therapist-patient treatments; by non-medical professionals whose job is to act as tamer/brat for paying customers.
This goes for playful taming-teasing, too. It can very well happen in different situations from the pursuing phase of a couple, such as: between established lovers (it strength the bond); between close friends (as a form of affection); between parents and Buds (as an instinctual way of teaching the dynamic); between co-worker (as a form of decompressing, especially in highly stressful environments).
summary: on their way to circuit of the americas, the hutchence-strolls stop by california to pay pilgrimage to a place very close to y/n’s heart.
pairing: lance stroll x hutchence!reader
warnings: mentions of parental death (see the lore masterpost for more details about what happened to micheal hutchence)…the timeline is a little fucked but please just ignore it
authors note: posting this in time to celebrate ✨inxs day✨ on august 16 because I’m a music nerd
y/n.hutchence just posted to her private story!
y/n.hutchence posted to her private story!
lancestroll just posted!!
los angeles, california
tagged: y/nhutchence
liked by fernandoalonso, yn.hutchence, chloestroll and 3,589 others
lancestroll los angeles with my lover girl 🩷
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y/n.hutchence I know we aren’t here for entirely happy reasons but I love that I’m doing this with you and I’ve had a wonderful time so far 🥺
-> lancestroll there’s no one else I’d rather be here with, my sweet girl
user what does she mean not entirely happy reasons?
-> user her dads grave is in Hollywood so I’m assuming she means she’s come to visit him
garygarrybeers my neighbour is wondering what happened to their dog?
-> lancestroll don’t look at me look at y/n
-> yn.hutchence are mr and mrs callaghan sure that salmon can’t come back to monaco with us?
user hilarious how everyone thought she was a gold digger at first until they found out she was literal music royalty
y/n.hutchence just posted!
liked by garrygarybeers, yourmom, lancestroll and others
y/n.hutchence I miss you, Daddy. I was just a little girl when you left us behind, and at the time I didn’t understand how much pain you were in. I took that greif and I internalized it and it made me rebellious, it made me stupid. Eventually I straightened out, and I’m sure you know that because I’m certain you’ve been watching me from up there with good ol’ Bon Scott and I want you to know that I’m okay. I’m surrounded by great family and even better friends, I’m married to a man that treats me like a princess and reminds me every day that I’m deserving of love. Growing up without you was hard, but I’ve carried you in my heart with me since I was a little kid, and I still feel you with me now.
I grieve for the moments you missed, the lost father-daughter dances. Paul is a great stepdad, and I’m glad mom found love again, but I can’t help but think that you should still be here.
I love you, Dad, and I always will.
comments on this post have been limited
kirkpengilly michael was one of the best friends a man could ask for….ill miss him forever
lancestroll I wish I could have met him myself. he sounds like an incredible person with an extraordinary legacy. I know he would be proud of you, sweetheart.
jonfarriss that man was one of a kind. rip, brother.
yourmom I hope you know how much he loved you, sweetie.
An Elephant's Memory (Isekai oc reborn as Naruto's older twin sister, except reincarnation sucks and she has to do it more than once) - Main Character: Uzumaki Mitomi - Main Ship: Nara Shikamaru/Uzumaki Mitomi- Main Tag: #an elephant's memory , #aem, #shikamito, #shikamitomi, #uzushio lore
Venom and other Anecdotes (Isekai oc, third war era, fix it fic, good orochimaru au) - Main Characters: Yasha Tsuyuko, Orochimaru, Nara Shikaku - Main Ship: Nara Shikaku x Yasha Tsuyuko- Main tags: #venmous verse , #venomous, #yasha tsuyuko
Happier AUS
Modern AU (the modern lives of Uzumaki Naruto an elementary art teacher and his twin sister Uzumaki Mitomi a chronically ill stay at home mom) - Main tag: #modern au - Main Ships- Shikamaru/Mitomi(shikamitomi or shikamito(oc x canon), Naruto/Sasuke(incredibly slow burn, they're both dumb), Sakura/Itachi (med students who start sleeping together for stress relief, end up staying together), Ino/Sai (highschool sweethearts) - there are few more ships that will be focused on later but I haven't gotten around to drawing anything for them yet i the modern au
Over and Over Verse (the third life of Uzumaki Mitomi, in a world that already been heavily altered from the script thanks to the fact Minato is alive and he came with his own memories of the actual naruto timeline) - Main Tags: #over and over verse , #uzushio lore - Main Ships: Mitomi/Shikamaru, Shibi/Natsuko, Minato/Kushina, and a few more oc/canon ships(too many to list out)
Saplings AU (everybody lives, lots of ocs cameos from other aus and such) - Mains Tag: #littlesaplings , #saplings au, #saplings - Main Ships: Kakashi/Genma/Shimei, Itsuki/Shizuka (ocxcoc), Sakumo/Misaki(canon x oc) (there are more ships but those are the ones i draw the most of)
A Different Life (fix-it au, alternate 3rd hokage au, everyone mostly lives-some canon deaths are unavoidable but such is life) - Main Tags:#a different life , #vee's happier founders era au #tobirama's adopted kids , #tobirama's forest kids , #tobirama x hiyori- Main Ships: Tobirama/Hiyori(oc), Hashirama/Mito, other ships still up for debate- lots of ocxoc ships
Canon Adjacent Musings (most canon based au, some minor fixes and alternative ocxcanonships, no fic)- Main Tags: #canon adjacent musings , #uzushio lore, #career anbu - Main Ships: Naruto/Kiroko(ofc), Shikamaru/Oona(ofc), Hawk(kento youichi(omc))/Miren, Shibi/Kinon(ofc) - more to come in time
Other AUS (Based On Fics I've written and or still writing)
~Current Naruto Fic Wips~
A Different Course ~Sakumo-Sensei! Alt Au - isekai oc, third war era is, alt timeline of another fic - Main characters: Hatake Rei(ofc), Uchiha Fugaku, and Hatake Sakumo - Main Ships: Fugaku/Rei - Main tag: #sakumo-sensei! alt au
The Stars They Lie - founders era, arranged marriage au, isekai oc - Main characters : Senju Hashirama, Uzumaki Iorina (ofc)- Main Ships: Hashirama/Iorina(ofc), Tobirama/Hiyori(ofc) - Main Tag: #the stars they lie , #hashiiori
Warm Miso Soup - Canon times fix it fic, Uzumaki twin fic- Main characters : Uzumaki Miso(ofc), Maito Hifumi(ofc)-Main Ships: Gai/Hifumi, Miso/Choji- Main Tag: #warm miso soup
The Winner Takes It All - third war era fix it fic, iseka oc, lots of angst upfront- Main Characters : Yamanaka Isomi(ofc), Namikaze Minato, Uzumaki Kushina and Uchiha Obito - Main Ships : Minato/Isomi(past), Minato/Kushina(current), Minato/Kushina/Isomi(eventually) - Main tag: #the winner takes it all
What the Water Gave - Direct aftermath of the Uchiha Massacre, extra survivors AU, Jiraiya godaime au, Jiraiya adopts Naruto and Sasuke au, Jiraiya/OC- Main Characters: Jiraiya, Uchiha Sansa, Uzumaki Naruto, and Uchiha Sasuke - Main Ship: Jiraiya/Sansa- Main Tag: #what the water gave
Completed Works - link will take you you my ao3 account :)
I basically tag all works with their correlating fic title and ocxcanon ship tag
🩷 Connie (OC) x Riddler x Boomerang, multi-part fic 🩷
constance dorothea drum (connie/conundrum) is my sorta self-insert OC who i like to put into situations!! i'm finally getting around to writing out her backstory and her love triangle and it is filled with fluff and angst and good old smut
based in the arkham!verse in terms of character/place design, but divergent as far as the timeline goes
fic masterlist • AO3 link • tag: auc fic • plushie doodles by @/march-harrigan
💚 Chapter 2: Perfect Timing, word count: 2.8k 💚
10 years ago: connie and harley spend an agonising day in the library trying to solve connie's thesis problems. luckily, she comes up with the perfect topic, one that ends up grabbing her attention in more ways than one.
request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist
minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: we finally see how mentally ill connie is for eddie, even at these early stages of her career, and there's a bit more harley and connie friendship to absorb because they're cute ok
“I’m really cutting it close now, Harley. My meeting with the advisor is in ten minutes, and if I don’t take an actual concrete idea to my supervisor today, then I might as well drop out now.”
Of course, Connie could be as vocal about how stressed she was all that she wanted, but she was also very aware that it was her own fault for leaving things so late. She was one for getting distracted, unable to start things, unable to keep her mind focused on one train of thought. Undiagnosed ADHD, that’s what Harley had said while she was practising her clinical work on her, although how much of that was truthful could be argued, given Harley was studying psychology and not psychiatry. Whatever was wrong with her, though, she had to try and overcome it or all of her years of study so far at Gotham State would all be for nothing.
“Bubby, I don’t know what you want me to say. We’ve been trying to come up with a topic for your thesis for… years now. Literally years. You just gotta pick one from the pile of rejects and go with it, that’s what I think!”
“But I want to believe in my idea! I want it to be something I can write about confidently, passionately. I want a good grade.”
Harley tossed the book she was absent-mindedly reading to the ground, kicking her legs up on the table and leaning back with a sigh that turned into a groan before she spoke.
“What does it matter anyway, really? All of this studying? I mean, have you ever thought about how many criminals lately have doctorate degrees? Real life actual doctors, people who studied their tight little asses off like you’re trying to right now, driven eventually to a life of crime. Good grade or not, if you really think about it, we’re just here studying to end up as Batman and the GCPDs punching bags.”
“Huh… you’re right…”
“I am!?” Harley sat up straight like a dog hearing their favourite word, grinning wide at Connie’s agreement. “So does that mean we can blow this dump and go to the pier?”
With an expression of disappointment, Connie raised her eyebrows, exasperatedly dropping her hands to the table as she renewed her patience for Harley before bursting her bubble.
“No. I mean that you’re right about the doctorates. The list must be pretty long. Let me think… you’ve got… Oh, Freeze, he was a doctor, wasn’t he?”
“Oh yeah, he was a babe, too.”
“Another one… Langstrom!”
“Babe.”
“Sartorius.”
“Babe.”
“Hellfern!”
“Spooky babe!”
“And Isley, of course.”
“ Super babe.”
“All of them, intelligent people with ambitions and passion, driven to criminality because of… what? There must be some relation to super intelligence, a correlation between super intellect and… maybe a lack of stimulation? Or perhaps they have a greater understanding of the unfairness of society? A clinical mind that can compartmentalise morals in the name of the greater good of humanity of science? Looking for an outlet of their genius? And just a little sprinkling of autism?”
“Well, you would be the expert there.”
“I would… But I’m still not sure what it is that definitively pushes them…”
“Maybe you find out when you study it for your thesis then? You ask the question, you find some evidence. Sounds like as good an idea as any of the others we’ve talked and talked and talked and talked about.”
“Hmm… Yeah, I think I like it!”
“So now can we get out of here? I hate the library. It’s too quiet! Which really tests my need for chaos .”
“It’s not exactly quiet when you’re in here.” Connie shoved Harley’s arm playfully, watching as she very intentionally, and very dramatically, fell to the ground with a ridiculous groan. “Ok, ok, I have my meeting in five minutes and then once I’m done we can leave. Wish me luck!”
Harley offered a smile and a salute, her way of sending positive vibes to Connie as she left for her meeting, but she really didn’t need any luck or good will at all. When she posed the question to her advisor, he had smiled knowingly, satisfied with the proposal and definitely intrigued by it. And that was despite her unprepared stammering and lack of any preliminary research to accompany it. She assumed the enthusiasm would bode well for her once she actually got to the meat of the project.
“There’s just one thing, though…” he had said, smoothing his fingers over the stubble on his chin, a self-satisfactory move from the proclaimed intellectual, who Connie hoped would soon enter his own criminal phase and be swiftly beaten to a bloody pulp. “Do you intend to only focus on those with doctorates? Or would you be interested in intelligence which hasn’t been professionally recognised, so to speak?”
Connie tilted her head slightly, trying to understand the question.
“Do you mean like… Emotional or social intelligence? Like how Roman Sionis seems to be able to charm or threaten his way out of, well, literally everything and anything?”
“No, no. God no. We’d be here forever discussing that kind of thing. I mean, every criminal must have an ounce of charisma or muscle to back up their actions. No, I mean those who might not necessarily have a professional title, or even a formal education, but who still exhibit, or present themselves as having, the same level of intelligence as your aforementioned doctorates. Perhaps there might be some who are even smarter?”
“Like?”
“Well, I’m thinking of people like Jervis Tetch, the Mad Hatter as he was perhaps better known. Incredibly intelligent man, talented in so many different skills, but not necessarily renowned for his intellect, and I’m sure he will have a degree, but not necessarily an academic ranking.”
“Hm, interesting.”
“Or take, for instance, Garfield Lynns. Are you familiar?”
“That’s Firefly, no?”
“Indeed. He worked with highly dangerous chemicals for a living, and for fun. Pyrotechnic work, bombs, explosives. Jobs which require an advanced degree of training and study and knowledge, but don't necessarily need a doctorate. And his engineering skills were admirable too, even if they were being put towards his criminal activities.”
“Oh! Or Bane!”
“Precisely! His work with chemicals and the study of his own sickness and addiction are fascinating on their own, even putting aside the fact that he had no formal teaching during his upbringing in prison. I’d kill to take a look at his research. Someone like him would make an excellent case study! That’s what I’m talking about, people like that. There’s always a modicum of intelligence behind being a successful criminal. The stupider ones get caught far too quickly. To last a while, to be a pain to the criminal justice system, you have to be able to outsmart it.”
Connie nodded, her eyes wide with excitement as she felt the inspiration flowing through her, her advisor continuing to lecture on the point which he wished he was making under his own name.
“Of course, bring up the doctorates too. Bring up as many examples as you can. But I would advise you to have one star of the show, as it were. Just something to focus the research on. An example that can relate to all the examples. Got it?”
Connie left the room feeling lighter than she had in months. Although the last thing her advisor had said did cling to her chest, a little nugget of anxiety in itself. Sure, she had the plan, but now she needed a star to pull everything together. Someone to focus on, someone interesting, appealing, intelligent and an example of criminality. Someone, preferably, without a professional title since that felt like an interesting angle to her. As she pondered, deep in thought, she could make out Harley ahead of her. She was face down at one of the tables at the end of the shelves of books, impatiently waiting to leave the library and forget about her studies for a moment, the complete opposite attitude from Connie.
That was understandable, Connie thought. She was planning on getting her masters in Library Science, finishing her degree in Psychology this year without the intention of becoming a doctor or a researcher or a therapist or a professor. Those seemed far too daunting to her, she’d realised in her studies. It was too much for her to have that kind of responsibility, she had learned. She was far too gentle, far too manipulatable. She was leaving all of that to Harley, who was the kind of person that Connie was certain could speak to a criminal and not be afraid, and definitely not be sucked in and swayed by their charms. So for Connie, there were only two and a half more years to go of the relentless essays and exams and presentations. For Harley, it could take anywhere between six and nine, and that was if she could sit still for long enough to actually apply herself. She was intelligent enough, but she was so easily distracted, always in need of excitement, of something new. So regular breaks were a necessity. But Connie just couldn’t commit to that today.
“So? How did it go? We off the hook for the day?”
“It went great, actually. He liked the idea a lot, and he gave me some really good notes too.”
“Then why do ya look like he told you he slept with your grandmother and now he’s getting your share of the inheritance?”
“... Because I can’t come out with you.”
“Aw, c’mon, Bubby, I-”
“I know, I know. But I really need to get started on this. I’m so sorry! I just really need to find someone to be the focal point of this stupid thesis and then find my bearings with it. I am really sorry, Harls.”
“Urgh…” Harley tossed her head back, her flexibility pushed as she seemed to completely curl backwards on herself before springing back to attention. “Fine! But you owe me, Bubby! I just wanna get out of here more than anything else, so you’re lucky! Have fun finding the perfect criminal. I would suggest checking today’s paper if you want a head start!”
The last part she spoke in a sing-songy voice before picking up her backpack and heading out, keychains jingling, flipping her fingers up to Connie on her way out, followed by her usual call of “LOVE YA!” and then she disappeared from sight. It was odd of her to mention the newspaper, given how unlikely it was for her to actually sit down and read one. “She must have been really bored…” Connie thought, as she settled herself down at the table and picked up the paper. The edges had been torn, some of the articles outlined in doodles of love hearts and smiley faces, all the work of Harley’s nervous, fidgeting fingers. But it was easy to look past them to the particular article of interest.
“Oh… Oh!”
As Connie read the article, pieces of the information rang a bell in her memory. Edward Nigma, previously known as Edward Nashton and Enigma, who had a while back begun operating under the moniker The Riddler , was now free again. High-priced lawyers will get a man anything, Connie mused. She remembered him, and she definitely remembered Enigma for sure. That was one of the first times that Gotham had really heard of Batman in a positive light after being touted for so long as a menace, a criminal vigilante. And Enigma seemed to be the same thing, just written in a different font.
And then, of course, there was his work as The Riddler. He’d been under the radar for the longest time, all through her studies it seemed, after being apprehended by Batman in Arkham City. Since then, he’d been unusually silent, behaving himself during his time at Arkham Asylum. So he had sort of disappeared from everyone’s minds, an easy feat in Gotham even for big name criminals, given the onslaught of entirely ubiquitous criminality that found its home there. But she remembered him now, very clearly, as she gazed at the old image of him being dragged from his lair by Aaron Cash.
And she remembered how she felt at the time of his arrest. It had been difficult for her to reconcile herself with her feelings, knowing what crimes he committed and still being unable to deny the fact that he was actually quite cute. Those feelings stirred themselves up again as she read the article describing his release with excitement.
No mention of a degree though, no doctorate, no title. After a records search, she pulled out the few newspapers that mentioned him, noting that none of them mentioned his schooling, his degree titles, where he might have studied. And then, the jackpot. One which actually explicitly mentioned his lack thereof.
“Edward Nigma, as he now prefers to be called, refused to attend university. He claims his school life was boring and a test of his patience, and that levels of intelligence such as his cannot be measured by peers, as he has none.”
“Wow. What an ass. He’s perfect .”
So perfect, in fact, that Connie had no concept of just how much time had passed while she read everything she could about The Riddler and his crimes. That was until Harley was smacking her on the back, causing her to choke and splutter on the soda she was sipping. She’d been caught in the middle of reading yet another report which barely even mentioned Edward except in passing, but which she was intent on reading anyway in order to satisfy her desire to find out more, and more, and more.
“Jeez, Harley! You scared me!”
“ I scared you!? You terrified me! Have you been in here this whole time!?”
“Yeah! You knew that! I said I was going to stay here and study for a little bit.”
“Bubby, I left you eight hours ago. Eight hours! And you’re not answering your phone!”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit! Have you been sitting here studying this whole time? And is that… OH, I see you picked up the paper then? I mentioned that as a joke .” She looked to the piles of reference materials littering the table and the floor. “Oh… Connie, Bubby. Is he who you’re focusing on?”
Connie tried to conceal her embarrassment, scrambling to cover the sheets of paper, knowing it was pointless now that the secret was out.
“Are you blushing ? Oh my god . Connie, you’re supposed to be studying him like the nasty little loser bug he is. This is a psychological deep dive, not a… well, you’re not supposed to have a crush on your patients!”
“He’s not a patient!” Connie reminded herself to keep her voice quiet, rushing to clarify the second part of Harley’s statement. “And I don’t have a crush on him! He’s just… fascinating, that’s all.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. Fascinating . Next you’re going to be telling me he’s dreamy, so clever, a handsome face for someone so much older than you.”
Desperate to change the subject, Connie closed her notebooks and began packing things into her bag as she spoke.
“And I’m pretty far ahead with where I wanted to be, so now we can do whatever you want this weekend if you can promise to drop this and not make fun of me.”
“No can do, Bubby. But we are leaving this place, I gotta deprogramme you before you go completely wacko for some puzzle-brained doofus. Pack up your things, say goodbye to your boyfriend and let’s GO!”
Harley was right. Time to relax, let the idea simmer, and then come back to it with a fresh mind on Monday. But it was easier said than put into practice. Surprisingly, it was not all that easy to stop thinking about Nigma. He really was just fascinating . And as her studies continued, the crush developed, to the point where she had considered thanking him in the acknowledgements of the finished product, thought about him as she walked across the stage to get her diploma, wrote about him in her application for her masters, and almost, though luckily she saw sense at the last minute, sent him a copy of her thesis to read.
But by the time she had finished her masters she was far too focused on the looming threat of real life. There were bills to pay, apartments to rent, work to be done at her new job in the Asylum, a place where Edward had been free of for years. In the back of her mind though, he always lingered, it’s just that there was so little opportunity for her to actually think for herself that he remained just a shadow, a memory of her past life. But not entirely forgettable.
Check out all the Shieldlings and WinterBabies who participated this past January!
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A Cry at the Final Breath That Is Drawn by moss_writes @ilovemosss
⚔️ Fanwork: New Fic in a Series
⚔️ Warning: Major Character Death
⚔️ One morning can change everything, but not always for the better. Bucky never wanted to know what it felt like to have half of his soul torn away in a moment, but as Steve's illness progress, the end comes too soon for both of them.
An Apple A Day by SquadOfCats @norelationtoatticus
⚔️ Fanwork: Multichapter Fic
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ Fresh out of the ice, Steve makes a trip to the farmer's market and finds a few simple things worth living in the future for. Namely: apples, and the hot guy selling them.
Eight Minutes by gfawkes @gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes
⚔️ Fanwork: Multichapter Fic
⚔️ Warning: Graphic depiction of torture or violence, Rape and/or Non-con
⚔️ The client liked what Steve had drawn, but he wanted something in particular; he wanted body parts.
“Like severed limbs?”
“Anything goes, really. But they have to be bound with rope, ties, that sort of thing.”
Steve could do that; he enjoyed drawing the human body, and now that he knew that the client was looking for kink, he would produce just that.
Nat smiled. “The darker, the better. Perfect for you.”
Another dime-a-dozen sick bastard. Lovely.
Fem!Stucky Western AU by @lavenderbuckyy
⚔️ Fanwork: Moodboard
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ Bucky lives a quiet life in the small town where her father acts as sheriff, wiping down the tables at the saloon and daydreaming her days away. When a new horse rides into town with a rider on its back, Bucky's interest is immediately piqued. Stella Rogers is gorgeous and whip-smart — and almost definitely on the run from the law, if her secretive nature is anything to go by.
Still, Stella is sweet, and gentle, and she kisses Bucky out back of the saloon like she's afraid to hurt her. Bucky's father wouldn't approve. But when Stella's got her hands in Bucky's hair, or when Bucky has her arms around Stella's middle, head tucked into her shoulder as they ride into the night, Bucky finds she doesn't really care.
marvel rivals bucky / pre-serum steve by mutantrentboy @disterra
⚔️ Fanwork: Fan Art
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ marvel rivals bucky meets movie verse pre-serum steve
No pickles by mutantrentboy @disterra
⚔️ Fanwork: Fan Art
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ smol stucky chibis in meme form
One deep breath out from the sky by @musette22
⚔️ Fanwork: Oneshot
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ “Hey, Buck,” Steve whispers, cautiously running a hand up and down Bucky’s back. “You feeling any better?”
Bucky doesn't answer straight away. “Think so,” he says eventually, the words slurring together with sleep or exhaustion. He stretches again, shifting on top of Steve, and –
Uh.
The low moan Bucky lets out coincides with Steve’s realization that what he can feel poking him in the hip is not, in fact, a gun, like he’d assumed a minute ago, but something altogether more incriminating. Jesus.
--
Or: the fic in which Bucky gets hit with some evil Hydra gas that makes him irrationally scared at first, and insatiably horny later. Steve helps him out with both.
Shower and Comfort by BuckysWintersoldier @buck-star
⚔️ Fanwork: Oneshot
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ Steve helps Bucky not just with a shower but also to calm his anxiety during the shower.
Soldier’s coming home by BuckysWintersoldier @buck-star
⚔️ Fanwork: Oneshot
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ Bucky comes home to his boyfriend after his assignment for the army.
Steve's Night Off: Chapter 3, Aching For You by @otpcutie
⚔️ Fanwork: Multichapter Fic
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ Steve and Bucky make the most of their night together.
That is Mine by gfawkes @gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes
⚔️ Fanwork: Multichapter Fic
⚔️ Warning: Graphic depiction of torture or violence, Rape and/or Non-con
⚔️ He thinks about his Sister and what she would say about his unclothed state.
“You would think,” she’d begin, green eyes flashing, red hair bouncing as she shook her head. “As old as you are,” she’d put heavy emphasis on the word ‘old,’ “that you’d think of stowing a pair of breeches in that pouch of yours, Rogers.”
It won’t matter in the end, his nakedness. The elixir will take away all focus on himself before he even catches a chill. It will also lower the heart rate and body temperature, canceling out any chance of frozen skin on sensitive flesh. And, besides, there is someone here much more important than himself.
Bucky.
Untitled Fanart by @lavenderbuckyy
⚔️ Fanwork: Moodboard
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ When a misunderstanding leaves Bucky's family thinking that his best friend Steve is actually his boyfriend, the two decide to go along with it. Bucky's family is always pestering him to meet someone anyway, and he's pretty sure Steve is the perfect guy to bring home to mom.
Steve doesn't have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving break since his ma passed. When Bucky offers for Steve to stay at his house, he jumps at the chance to avoid being alone in his dorm.
But as they spend their Thanksgiving together baking pumpkin pie, getting ribbed by family members and wearing the matching sweaters Bucky's mom knit them, the line between pretend and reality start to blur. Soon enough, both Steve and Bucky find themselves wanting their "fake" relationship to become real...
Untitled Fanart by @lavenderbuckyy
⚔️ Fanwork: Moodboard
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ Steve Rogers loves being a wedding planner. He loves the attention to detail it requires; loves meticulously organising everything until it's just right. Most of all, he loves fulfilling the promise of a perfect, seamless day.
He knows he's good at his job. But although he sees loved-up couples day in, day out, Steve's never been in love.
This time the bride has requested a flower-themed wedding, and Steve seeks out the help of a local florist. Bucky Barnes is sweet, gentle, and unexpectedly funny, and the flower arrangements he creates are stunning. Soon they're meeting up not just to discuss wedding plans or bridal bouquets, but to grab coffee and get lunch. Steve's falling for Bucky fast. But if the shy smiles Bucky sends his way are any indication, he's not the only one.
Wasted Potential by @endlesstwanted
⚔️ Fanwork: Oneshot
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ Steve thought bartending would be simple, but between Natasha’s meddling and Bucky’s charm, he’s not sure what to pour next.
your love in every flavour by eighthchiharu @lanalanakova
⚔️ Fanwork: Oneshot
⚔️ Warning: No Warnings Apply
⚔️ Steve underestimates the snowy weather, but Bucky is there to warm him up with good food, cozy socks, and TLC.
Make Stucky proud by checking out these works in your spare time!
summary: finishing work late sucks, but it's nice to come home to eddie
a/n: this is so completely self indulgent because i did the late shift at work again and if i ever have to set foot in that bar again i will cry. which is tomorrow, because sadly i have to work for a living enjoy.
tags: @megmeg-chan @sunflowersturn @karasong
It was just after 2AM when you finally got home.
Your shoulders and limbs were heavy with tiredness as you dragged yourself through the front door, holding your breath in an attempt to keep quiet. The trailer had thin fucking walls and Eddie Munson, not unlike a child, would not have gone back to sleep if you woke him up. Save for the times when you were physically in bed beside him, he had a wicked creative mind that would snap into the action the second he rose. There had been many nights were he would leap out of bed at 3,4,5AM, just because he'd had a semi-decent idea for a song, or a new D&D campaign. You could see that had been the case tonight; there was a bunch of crumpled up paper on the dining room table, with pens strewn on the floor and lots of scribbled out verses.
It was almost like a physical trail to Eddie. One Reebok, then another, and then his denim jacket, a bandana and eventually, a pair of jeans half on the floor and half on the bed. He was dead to the world, duvet pulled up to his chin and one arm flipped out on the mattress where you should have been. You felt a pang of guilt at that - of course, he had no ill will towards you for having to work the late shifts that week, but Eddie was a clingy little (six foot) fuck and he hated sleeping without you. With Wayne working upstate for a few months, you'd moved in to the trailer to fill in the gap; that meant you hadn't spent a night apart in forever.
Peeling off your clothes, you reached across to his desk chair and yanked a t-shirt from the pile on there. It was semi-clean; it smelt mostly of him and a little of laundry detergent. You shimmied it over your head and kicked off your jeans, softly pulling the covers back and slipping into bed beside Eddie. He instantly reached out for you; one gangly arm around your waist, a hand reaching up to cup your head and pull your head into the crook of his neck. All the tension in your body melted away - tonight had been a lot. It was endless streams of rude customers and machine malfunctions and stress head managers. You knew it was bad to let your job stress become too much but weren't you supposed to make a living?
"You're home," Eddie murmured, voice slightly muffled by your shoulder.
"Sorry if I woke you," you replied.
"Mm, it's okay, I was trying to stay awake til you came in," he said. He glanced over to the clock on the nightstand, brow furrowing. "It's late. Like...really late. Did you only just get in?"
"Yeah," you said, trying to hide the defeat in your voice. "It's been a long night."
"That's like the third night in a row they've made you stay late," he pouted. "Are you sure they're not overworking you?"
His large hands moved down your body, callous thumbs ghosting over your arms, sides and then hips. They settled there, rubbing soft circles over your skin as he held your gaze. Eddie had this innate need to look out for you - like if anything was wrong, he had to fix it. He knew it wasn't always possible, but that didn't stop him from being concerned. It was hard for him to fully get the stress of full time work; he'd gone straight from high school into community college, but he could empathise with your tiredness. He could feel it in your bones, and the way you clung onto him, craving something soft after a shitty, long shift.
"Of course they're overworking me," you couldn't help but feign a laugh. "It's okay though. It's just for now."
Eddie's brow furrowed. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Afraid not, Eds," you murmured. Your eyes met again, though you did try to avoid his gaze for a second - those sad puppy dog eyes of his were surely the thing that would beat capitalism. "Just...keep being here when I get home, yeah?"
"I will stay in this bed forever if it makes you happy."
Eddie pulled the covers further up over you, hands gently rubbing up and down your bare arms in an attempt to warm you up. The heating in the trailer was pretty shit; it was annoying at times but also a blessing in disguise, because he did not like to let go of you at night. It was sort of a comfort thing, knowing that you were always there. That only made you feel worse about all these stupid night shifts.
"Staying here forever sounds nice," you hummed. "I'm sorry I've been away so much lately. Even more sorry that all I do is complain about work-"
"- hey, don't be silly," he cut you off. "You're working your ass off, baby. I'm really proud of you."
"It'll be worth it, I hope," you said. "I know we're young and dumb, but maybe I'll get promoted one day. And we can use the money I'm saving for...for whatever we want."
It was hard to say at that point. You and Eddie had been together for the better part of three years, but all your conversations about the future had been pretty loose. Your early twenties were a whacky time, after all: you were too old to be a clueless about the future but too young to be sure about it. It was like this time was specifically given to you to just...be for a while. To move on from the weird world of high school and find yourself, before taking that new-found discovery and trying to make something of it.
That had pretty much been the last two years for you and Eddie. It felt like the older you got and the better you came to know yourself, the more intertwined you both became. Instead of growing apart and getting fed up like a lot of couples your age did, you just got closer. So maybe you weren't set on what you were doing - kids, family, houses, whatever the fuck else suburban hell had in store - but you were certain on who you were doing it with.
"That sounds perfect," Eddie gave you a soft smile. "Until then, you need to get some sleep."
It was easy enough for him to say, because Eddie Munson was exactly the kind of guy who considered napping to be a hobby. He seriously had sleeping down to an art; in bed, in the the bath, in his van. He used up so much energy being a golden fucking retriever every other second of the day that power naps were the key to his survival.
"Sounds like a solid plan," you sleepily murmured. "I love you."
