#Trust me I'm going to make use of that later

[dchuntress]

Subject: Re: Extension Request

Hi Madi,

I had your sister in my class two years ago. Samantha O'Reilly was sharp, determined, and never backed down when she knew she was right. She believed in Gotham and its ability to get better in a way that, frankly, inspired me. I remember helping her with her essay for college applications, and I knew then if anybody was going to revolutionize Gotham's healthcare, it was her.

It hurts to hear that she's gone missing. But I do not believe that Scarecrow has the power to change her, to take away who she really is. She may be manipulated, she may be roped into his schemes, but she isn't lost, my dear. She is in trouble. And those are not the same thing.

She needs us to believe in her more than ever. And I need you to have faith in yourself, too.

Take the extension. Take all the time you need to cope and focus. If doing schoolwork gives you something steady to hold onto, then do what you need to do. But by no means think that you need to prove something by burning yourself out, Madi. You are brilliant and dedicated, and you don't need me or my opinions to know that. Your well-being comes first.

If Scarecrow is recruiting, then he is expanding, and I need you and your family to stay far away from his radar at all times. Keep your routines unpredictable and your location private. Stay with people you trust and be wary of anybody new who take an interest in you. If anything ever feels off — strangers watching you, cryptic messages, odd delivers, friends going missing — let me know immediately.

Scarecrow preys on fear, but he cannot really destroy you, Sam, or anybody else in this city. Not in a way that matters, as long as we remain steadfast even in our nightmares and our uncertainty. I understand how helpless this feels, and I don't have the right to tell you not to feel that way. The trajectory of your lives may have changed irreversibly, and things might not be the same.

But what I will tell you is that the love you have for Samantha is far more powerful than whatever Scarecrow throws in her way. Don't give up on your sister, Madi.

And do not, even for one second, think you are alone in this: you are not. Sam has people looking out for her, you have people looking out for you. You have me in your corner, by your side, always.

So, do not hesitate to reach out for anything. I mean that, Madison. Take care of yourself.

All my love,

Helena

Huntress doesn't care that that by now Scarecrow is intimately familiar with what makes her tick, what makes her crack, what makes her falter. She doesn't care how fortified his lair is; numerous lackeys ready to launch into bloodshed in an instant, the air reeking with gases and chemicals threatening to send Huntress spiralling down, breaking down, hesitating. She doesn't hesitate. Helena's spent weeks tearing through Scarecrow's operations — destroying labs, cutting off supply chains, thinking she was making a dent. And still, here they are. Another name added to the list of Gotham's stolen, neglected, forgotten. Another bright mind warped into something ugly. All that Huntress cares about right now is getting Sam out of there and back home in one piece, alive and breathing. She doesn't care if Madison's sister is already brainwashed beyond recognition, if she might resist at every step of the way out. That's a problem for later — for Oracle, for Batman, for Zatanna, for anybody to undo. Huntress' job is extraction. Making sure there's someone still left to save. Huntress doesn't care how deep into the darkness Scarecrow has dragged Samantha. She's pulling her out.

—

Subject: Re: Interview With The CatWoman

Hi Ananya,

Well, of course, you would be the one to track down Catwoman and persuade her to do an interview. I'm not all surprised, and I am perhaps a teensy tiny bit impressed.

I must admit, this is not what I was expecting. And I do hope you're staying safe, young lady, I'm not thrilled that you got that close to such a volatile situation. But I understand how these things unfold.

That being said, you showed great initiative and quick thinking. You saw someone who made a real, tangible impact on your surroundings, and you found an unconventional yet necessary perspective into your work. That is the heart of analysis and good storytelling.

No signature? No problem. I'm obviously not going to ask you to chase down her just for an autograph and risk getting clawed. And let's be honest, Ms Catwoman doesn't strike me as someone who enjoys leaving paper trail behind. Some people let their actions speak for them.

And that’s the thing, isn't it? The point of this assignment isn't to necessarily scout out a well-known superhero, but to find someone who makes a difference, someone who helps out. You don't need a badge, a title, or anybody's permission to do the right thing — you just do it.

Your interview was solid, and I’ve given you a good grade. Take a look at my feedback in the attached scan when you get the chance, though — there are a few areas that could use some refining. You’ve got a great story here, kid. Let’s make sure it's told right.

Nice work. Stay safe.

Best,

Miss Bertinelli

[ Attachment: I_Interview_Catwoman_scan.pdf ]

The fire escape isn't the most comfortable perch, but it gives her a decent vantage point. And it's a good enough spot to read Ananya's work thoroughly, annotate, and get a glimpse of a side of Selina Kyle that Huntress doesn't see much. The side that steps in, the side that doesn't let drug dealers get away with thinking they can take advantage of young minds, the side that answers a bubbly, young teenager's questions with warmth, charisma, and a signature flair that's uniquely, intriguingly hers. The side that gives a damn. Catwoman is nothing less of a wild card, but Selina has a good head on her shoulders — draws lines that she doesn't like to see get crossed. The Cat always lands on her feet, and tonight, Huntress wonders if she'll land on the right side. If she'll give another damn and show up. Catwoman isn't anybody's idea of a hero in the traditional sense. But again, neither is Huntress. Selina knows the darkness that prevails on the broken, vulnerable streets of this city; all-consuming and never forgiving. Helena knows that darkness too. The kind of darkness that chews up and spits out anybody into a hollow husk of their selves. The kind of darkness they both refuse to be caged by any longer. The kind of darkness they won't let engulf innocent kids anymore. Huntress hopes—prays for Sam's sake that Selina will hear her out. And extend that listening ear to Pamela, whose brilliance rivals that of Crane's. His brainwashing isn't impossible to tackle, but it spreads rapidly throughout the nervous system. Ivy might know how to reign those in before it's too late. And Catwoman might be able to convince her to step in. And maybe — just maybe, if Helena's prayers are heard, Selina might just know the darkness well enough to predict where Gotham's missing kids go when the rest of the city falls asleep. It's a long shot. But long shots are all Huntress has.

—

Subject: Re: pokodot man stole my shirts and i have nothing to wear for the trip :(

Hi Ken,

Are you and your mom safe? That's my main concern.

That being said — seriously, Ken? Polka-dot shirts?

I'll be honest, this is a first, even for Gotham. This city truly never runs out of weird. I have no issue excusing the class trip, but I will need more details before I write "Absence due to polka-dot-related crimes" in the attendance log. Please ask your mother to call me when she has a moment and we'll sort it out.

Best,

Miss Bertinelli

Seriously, the Polka-Dot Man? Scrounging the local laundromat and looting some kid's shirts that won't even fit him? The mental image alone should've made her laugh. Gotham's walking eyesore, some washed-up D-list villain, shifting through other people's laundry baskets — and possibly the bargain bins at joke shops for a suit upgrade. But Huntress didn't. Not a lot of jokes were really that funny in Gotham. They tended to die and rot out in your mouth before you could spit them out. There was the simple set-up:

Some ridiculously, mind-numbingly, garnish gimmicks and corny costumes that'd even make a two-year-old roll their eyes. And then there was the punchline:

The bloodbath that spilled all over for rogues to lap, the homes that were left in ruins. Or a laundromat, in this case. A flick of Abner’s wrist sent a cluster of neon dots whirling through the air, and Huntress barely dodged in time — one of them piercing straight into a dryer, causing it to blow up on impact. The polka dots weren't really just a bad fashion statement. They were weaponised — hot, colourful, searing disks flung at her with deadly precision, sizzling against the concrete like dying stars when they missed. The next one sliced through her thigh, drawing blood with a burning tenacity. Yeah, she wasn't laughing. And Huntress didn't think for even one second that Abner Krill was just dillydallying at laundromats, but she wasn't going to stroke his ego either. "The Suicide Squad kick you to the curb or something?" She taunted, as she dodged a buzzsaw dot and rolled behind a vending machine. "Didn't think you were shaking down dryers for spare quarters now!" A beat of silence after that — the dots have come to a halt. A pause long enough for her to peek out. For him to give her a smile. "You think this is about the laundry, Huntress?" Abner stood there, casually twirling a glowing dot between his fingers. "You think this is all I'm doing? You don't think I'm capable of anything greater?" Abner laughed a loud, joyless laugh. "You're just like my mom, Huntress." "Gross, dude," Helena shot back, swiftly placing a bolt in her crossbow. "Why? Mothers are like bridges, you know..." His smile broadened, but never reached his eyes. "People trust them without question." His smile fell. He flicked his wrist — And she fired, and — The dot and the bolt met in a thunderous crash. In the back of her head, she wondered if his quip was just some dumb, random, stupid inside joke she wasn't supposed to get, and — Huntress really wished she didn't.

—

Subject: Re: ...

Hello Malik,

I need you to listen to me very carefully. Thank you for trusting me. I know this is a scary situation to be in, but you did the right thing by letting me know.

I want you and your dad to stay safe. If you have family somewhere else, consider staying with them for a while. Otherwise, I can send you a list of trustworthy places you'll be safe — shelters, community centers, mosques.

Be selective in whom you trust at this time. Trust your judgement. Keep your head down, avoid drawing attention, and if you notice anything suspicious, don’t try to check it out on your own. Just leave, get somewhere safe, and call for help. You're doing the best you can already.

And listen, kid — whenever you feel like you’re out of options, whenever you want to shout into the void, whenever you think no one's listening? I'm here to hear you. You can always tell me anything. Everything you say will stay between us. If you're worried about your dad knowing, I won't say a word to him.

I'm very sorry the police aren't taking this seriously. But I believe you, Malik. And I know some people who will believe you too. We will figure something out together.

We will keep our city safe. And that starts by keeping ourselves safe.

Okay?

Stay in touch.

With love and prayers,

Miss Bertinelli

Her heart aches. God. Good God, why — why is she the only adult that Malik can trust? That's — that's not right! Malik doesn't know that his teacher wields a weapon uglier than a pen. Malik doesn't know that her face is slick with blood — blood that's not hers. Malik doesn't know the ugly things she does in the nighttime to secure a brighter morning for other people. But Malik has faith. He trusts that Miss Bertinelli with that information, he trusts her — a schoolteacher — to do something about a citywide threat. This isn't a fight she can win on her own. So, mirroring that trust, she casts the net wide, spreading his warning like wildfire and hoping it reaches the right people — enough people. Oracle's Birds, the Bat's brats, the few independents that don't answer to Batman, and hell, even a handful of rogues that hate Joker more than they hate Huntress. Anybody outside of Gotham willing to cross the distance just to get their punches in. Some of her allies are still en-route, others have already started petty brawls in proximity, few are monitoring the area, some are waiting for the right moment to strike. But her gaze is locked on the bridge: it's still in one place. Blood rings in her head and burns in her eyes. The bridge isn’t just that — it's a crucial artery of Gotham. One wrong move, one wrong incision, and — And it won’t just fall. It’ll crush. Families. Homes. Futures. A graveyard that symbolises their failure to protect Gotham's innocent, effectively punishing these people for not being able to afford to live elsewhere. That caked-faced bastard picked his target well. Damn him, damn him, damn— Tears sting her eyes. She doesn't know if she can do this. She doesn't know if her allies of the night can save the day in time. She doesn't know if the bridge will stay intact. She doesn't know if they'll prevent casualties. She doesn't know how it ends tonight, and what happens tomorrow. (But Huntress has faith.) Something cold and solid brushes against her boot, snaps her out. She looks down and picks it up. A crowbar. Her grip tightens. The last time one of these was in the wrong hand, a young child died screaming. As if life means nothing. He took an innocent life — as he always did, destroying lives beyond repair, beyond redemption, beyond reprieve. (Never again.) And tonight, he has set out to claim thousands of lives, millions more in collateral damage. But that won't happen. No. No more families torn apart. No more children left in despair. No more bodies will be piled up at his feet. Because it won't be the damn bridge that falls.

(Never again.) Because Huntress has faith. She touches the cross at her throat, and remembers she is here. (NEVER AGAIN.) She brings the crowbar down — breaking the metal and a lackey's bone simultaneously. Reloads her crossbow. Marches ahead. Beside her, movement. More figures joining the fight. Allies, reluctant or otherwise. Capes, good and bad alike, drawn to this fight like vultures, like wolves, like something holy. She doesn't stop to look back. "Let's finish this."

—

Subject: Re: Library Suggestions

Hi Eden,

You're smart to trust your gut. If something smells fishy, it's probably not for no reason.

Here are some safer options:

• Hemingway Community Library: Well-lit, quiet, good security. It's run by the volunteers in the neighborhood, so the staff actually care.

• Eastpoint Library: This one's near your aunt's workplace. Might make pickups easier. Oh, and Sol Azteca is close by — you two should stop there for the carnitas tacos. Best in Gotham.

• Gotham City Public Library: Not super close, but it’s just one bus stop away. A friend of mine works there, Dr Gordon. She’s nicer than she looks — if you need anything, you can always approach her.

• The Woolf & Austen Bookshop: My personal pick? This bookstore on 5th and Wilburn. Good coffee, quiet atmosphere. I drop by there a lot. A little farther out from the school, but it's near my apartment. I don't do any grading here, I promise.

• If none of those work for you, let me know. I’ll help you figure something out.

And don't apologize for reaching out. You deserve safe spaces. Always.

Take care,

Miss B

Huntress follows her own gut, too. She steps into the library and immediately smells it: Not old books, not dust, not coffee — chemical rot, dense in the air. It’s a lab. A drug operation. Of fucking course. The same bastards who occupied Miriam's apartment basement have moved their operations here. The same ones Selina stopped from selling drugs to kids. Gotham’s rogues aren’t criminal masterminds. They’re roaches. The kind that refuse to die, that scurry to a new corner when the light exposes them. The kind that don’t learn their lesson until their heads have been shoved into a bookshelf hard enough to make them beg for a third chance. Unfortunately — or otherwise — Miss B doesn't know how to quit either.

one of helena bertinelli's students emailing her at 12:59 am asking if it's too late to submit their assignment now since their house got burned down due to gotham incidents:

helena bertinelli responding at 1:07 am after grading their work and reassuring them it's fine even though she's literally yet to take care of the third degree burns on top of 500 other fatal injuries she just got from her other job:

[xxchumanixx]

May I please request a fic where the reader (who's a famous singer) falls in love with Tim but is reluctant to fully trust and be vulnerable with him due to bad experiences she's had with men in the past? The reader could eventually write and sing a song about her love for Tim which blows up and even wins awards like Grammys too which makes their relationship stronger and she opens up her heart more? 🥺

Be myself

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, a bit of angst, mentions of physical abuse / hitting (please look for help if you're in an abusive relationship! Being abused is not normal and it shouldn't be simply endured and viewed as it) Word count: 2.421 Authors note: I don't know if I used the gif before (probably did), but it just fits perfectly. I know you linked Whats love got to do with it by our legend Tina, but I kinda didn't vibe with it. I hope you'll still like it, though (if it was even meant for reference to the song the reader writes). I'm in no way a songwriter, so I'm not at all sure about that small part i wrote there. I know I posted a sneak peak for something different, but this gave me so much motivation to write so i put it first. Enjoy!

He didn't know how he ended up with you of all people.

Not that he'd complain.

Never.

But a famous singer like you and a cop like him? It had to be fate that brought you together when him and his rookie had been called to deescalate a situation at a concert of yours.

He didn't expect to fall for you - hell, you probably didn't either. It just kinda happened after you gave him your number before him and his rookie left.

It had been meant more like a joke - yet he hadn't been able to get you out of his head and neither did you. So he texted you.

Three weeks later you went on your first date.

You had been cautious, bad experiences with previous boyfriends and dates branding you more than you'd have liked to admit.

And so you didn't.

The date went great, leading to another one shortly after.

Tim swore you were playing some magic trick on him. The speed in which he fell for you was shocking. In a few weeks you had him wrapped around your finger.

It didn't take long for him to admit his feelings to you, saying he'd understand if you weren't ready for anything yet, and as he rambled on, you'd cut him off with a kiss.

Because you were indeed ready.

At least that's what you thought.

Not that you didn't have feelings for him - you had, and they were strong. You just had trouble letting yourself be too open, too vulnerable.

To trust easily.

Though, right from the start, you knew he was different. He was interested in your career, yes, but in a way that didn't profit him or made him want to brag about his girlfriend being famous.

Or try and hit you if you didn't spend all your money on him. It had happened once, leaving a mark on your soul you had trouble getting rid of. Getting rid of the douchebag wasn't exactly easy, either.

But that was another thing.

No, Tim supported you, took days off to watch your concerts and be there for you. And maybe to have the time of his life with you in your wardrobe backstage.

For a while now, you had been working on a project - a new song that one day came to your mind when you thought about the past few months and your relationship with Tim.

It had almost been a year now, and you started to question whether your cautiousness was misplaced.

Not that you didn't trust him.

You trusted him more than you did any other man you'd been with, it just was like a habit of sorts. Some sort of protection your mind had put up in the beginning.

It wasn't easy to let that guard down.

It was one of the main parts you included in that song. How he made you want to be more open, to trust and give up that control you so desperately held onto.

To love without the constant fear of it all going downhill.

Your producer, Savannah, supported you all the way. You wrote your song, recorded it over and over again until you were a hundred percent convinced that it did Tim justice in a way.

Or rather his love for you. The way he never treated you differently even though you were famous.

Sure, there were times when his face would be plastered along magazine articles alongside yours - especially the beginning hadn't been easy.

Hiding a relationship wasn't easy and it certainly didn't work in this case, either. The first time it happened it had been on Instagram.

Someone had seen you and him together, taking a video and posting it for everyone to see. Once it reached a certain amount of views, it spread like wildfire, and everyone knew.

Tim wasn't very happy about it.

He understood that it was part of your life, but he didn't like it - and that included him - plastered all over the internet.

When you were shopping and hoarded by paparazzi or too many fans and he'd notice you were overwhelmed, he'd play the 'I'm a cop, please stand back' card, effectively getting you out of the situation.

Another thing you loved him for.

He didn't thrive on the constant attention, didn't suck it up like a sponge and used it to his advantage. Not like other men had tried to do before.

So why was it so hard to let go? Why was it so hard to trust, to let yourself be too vulnerable?

When you published the song, Tim had yet to hear it.

Yes, maybe you should have let him listen to it before publishing it, but you were too nervous. Too nervous he'd laugh at you, tell you that you were crazy for writing and publishing that song.

It would have also meant he'd question the origin - why you had such trust issues, had these problems of opening up.

You didn't want to be judged. After all, you still hadn't told him about it.

Only a few days later, you and Tim were driving in his truck home, when suddenly, the radio moderator announced your new song. Tim's gaze snapped to you - normally you'd show him your upcoming projects, talk to him about them.

He didn't know you'd just published a new song.

Your cheeks heated up as he stared at you in confusion before his gaze fixed back on the street. You knew he was listening, picking up on the lyrics.

Another thing you loved about him.

He didn't just hear the songs, he listened to them. Analyzing them, understanding them.

So it was no surprise he did understand this song, too. About a minute into the song he parked in his driveway, killing the engine but leaving the radio on.

You nibbled on your lip nervously, heart beating wildly as you tried to make out his reaction. You couldn't read his thoughts, so you had to rely on his body language.

And when he understood the song was about him, his gaze snapped to yours right as the second chorus hit.

You let me be myself, and I thank you for that.

You ban all the bad thoughts from my head.

No matter how hard I try, I can't find anything bad about you.

And I hope you see me like that, too.

You support me, give me strength,

It is wrong to hold you at arms length.

I love you and I hope you see,

that your're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

You swallowed, not interrupting him as he listened to the rest of the song. This certainly hadn't been how you'd planned this.

Sure, you wanted him to know about the song and all the things it expressed sooner or later, but when you published it, the thought of him hearing it that fast hadn't exactly crossed your mind.

When the song ended and the next came up, he immediately turned the radio off.

He stared at you, shocked, surprised.

In awe.

You bit your lip as his own parted, though nothing came out. His head tilted slightly, thinking.

"Is it true?" was the first thing he asked. "Or is it just... I don't know, a random love song?"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you shook your head. "No, it's not a random love song." you said. "It... It's about you, Tim."

He nodded slightly, still shocked. "What about the- the trust issues you talk about? Or sing, for that matter." he inquired further. "Or the 'keeping at arms length'?"

You swallowed, sighing quietly as you looked away. "It's all true, yes." you admitted quietly. "And I know I should have told you, and I know you're having a lot of questions right now, but... I'm sorry."

Tim leaned forward over the middle console and placed his finger under your chin to lift your head, his blue eyes meeting your Y/E/C ones. "Hey, you have nothing to apologize for." he said, shaking his head slightly. "Yes, it would be nice to know the details behind it, but I understand that you didn't tell me. Or show me the song beforehand, for that matter. It's great, by the way - just like everything else about you."

You blushed, suddenly feeling undeserving of him. He was way too caring and understanding.

"I mean, I assumed some things..." he continued, tilting his head from side to side for a moment. "But I never pushed you to tell me. And I won't now. Neither did you on the subject of Isabel. If you want to tell me, I'm happy to listen, but you don't have to. Just know that I feel incredibly honored and love you."

Tears burned in your eyes, and suddenly, you knew you could trust him with everything. No more keeping him at arms length.

"I love you, too." you breathed out, smiling through the tears. "I just- I don't know." you shook your head in sudden embarrassment. "Ever since I got famous all the men seemed to want the same thing. Fame, my face as their way into Hollywood. To brag about their girlfriend being famous and make themselves look more important. Or try and hit me for not spoiling them like the ungrateful bitch I am." you grimaced, and his eyes widened before they narrowed. "I know you aren't like that, I do. I just couldn't shake this... habit of closing myself off and trying to avoid another one of these situations. I'm sorry, Tim. I know you are better than them. That song is about you and it is supposed to express how I feel about you."

Tim smiled, cupping your face with his hands. "You're so much more than your career, Y/N." he told you, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "You're a caring, beautiful and brilliant woman. You're far more than I deserve yet I'm too selfish to ever let you go. I love you more than you can imagine, and I want you to know that I'd never try to get any fame or benefits or whatever from you or your career. Let alone lay a hand on you. I love you too much to risk us - not that I'd need your fame or money. I'm a cop and I love being a cop. My girlfriend just happens to be an amazing singer."

You laughed quietly, blushing more. His words spread a warmth through you like no one else ever did. "You're flattering me." you mumbled sheepishly. He cocked a brow. "I'm not." he said. "You are an amazing singer. You're amazing in general, all over."

You laughed once more, a smile on your lips. "You're way too good for me, Tim Bradford." you said. "I'm the one not deserving you."

He huffed, tilting his head from side to side again. "Debatable." he said. He leaned closer, capturing your lips in a sweet and gentle kiss. "Come on, let's head inside." he mumbled against them. "I want to celebrate this song."

It had been about two weeks until your song seemed to have gained massive popularity, and when the letter landed in the mail weeks later, you screamed.

Tim had rushed into the kitchen, gun drawn as he tried to find out what happened. When he saw you with the letter in hand, pressing a hand to your mouth, he lowered the gun, stepping beside you.

One look at the letter and his lips parted.

You looked up in your excitement, almost headbutting him where he was looking over your shoulder. "Tim-" you breathed out, cutting yourself off with another squeal. He grimaced at the high sound, though laughing as he moved to hug you from behind.

"Baby, that's amazing." he breathed out. "I'm so proud of you." You bit your cheek, heart pounding wildly. "I- I mean, I haven't won anything yet." you said, fingers trembling as they held the letter. "But..." "But you're nominated." Tim finished for you. "That's more than most can wish for. This is amazing, Y/N. God, I'm so proud of you."

You smiled widely, clutching the letter to your chest. You giggled and jumped up and down in his arms, pressing a hand to your lips. Tim laughed quietly, holding tighter onto you, his nose brushing the shell of your ear. In the last few weeks you'd grown even closer, and it all felt more right than ever.

"Told you you're amazing."

Nervous wasn't word enough to describe your current state.

The Grammys.

The fucking Grammys.

Never would you have thought this would happen. Who would have thought you'd make it this far?

Fidgeting with your small clutch nervously, you took a deep, trembling breath. Tim grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and giving them a reassuring squeeze. You'll be okay.

The wait had been torture.

Waiting for the day to come, waiting for the announcements. It was like a dream come true, yet the wait left you on edge.

You'd been nominated for single of the year. Your song about Tim Be Myself had literally exploded, landing you a spot at the Grammys.

You inhaled shakily as the nominees were announced before the moderator opened an envelope. She drew it out, making the anticipation rise higher and higher until your heart suddenly slammed to a stop.

"Best single of the year goes to... Be Myself!" Your lips parted, not believing what just happened. Tim cheered, the crowd applauded, and you got up on shaky legs.

You couldn't believe it.

This was more than you could have ever wished for, and as Tim pressed a kiss to your cheek, giving you the biggest, most proudest smile you'd ever seen on him before he ushered you to the stage, you knew it.

You knew he was the one.

He was the one that treated you right. The one that loved you unconditionally.

And you'd be forever grateful for that.

Tag List

@laheysfilm @newobsessionweekly @augustvandyne @RookieTrek @dhundhchrih @nachofriess @dtftheavengers @wonderland2425 @skywalker0809 @freyathehuntress @caplanbuckybarnes @sacredwarrior88

[strawhatmay]

Just a little drabble I managed to write, but it IS my first ever piece of Zosan fanfiction 😭 (althought it is not about them lol) As always, constructive critiscism is more than welcomed.

A friend in the house

[Zoro runs into someone on the way to the bathroom in the Vinsmoke house]

It was late, very late, but Zoro really had to go take a piss, so he got up, grabbed Sanji’s robe and got out of the bedroom as quietly as possible.

 

This big ass house and no private bathroom, just the logic of Judge Vinsmoke, "let's make a gigantic one, practically a mansion, oh toilets? I don't give a fuck, put them wherever." Zoro never met him really, he died when Sanji was 6, good fucking riddance.

Even after the Vinsmoke siblings all turned 21, they still share a house. Sora insisted, she wanted them all in one place as long as they were happy here, and well, none of them had the heart to say no to their mom.

 

So that's why Zoro has to go through a maze to find a bathroom in the middle of the night, instead of just finding one a few steps away from the bed in a hypothetical apartment they would own. Or, Sanji would own, he means. Zoro would love to move in with him, but Sanji might like to have his own place for a bit before that.

 

 

Ah, Sanji. He needs to hurry up so he can go back to bed. They had a little argument a week ago and now they were back, he was back in his arms. It was silly, so silly, they just needed to talk it out, and last night Sanji called him saying he missed him, so Zoro was throwing tiny rocks at his window 5 minutes later.

 

"Yeah that's definitely the bathroom," Zoro thinks when he recognizes the door. Just when he's aproaching it, another figure in a bright pink robe appears in the dark and goes to the door as well. Both in robes so clearly from their respective partners, they stop and stare at each other.

 

 

"Roronoa" she aknowledges, a bit irritated.

 

"Tash" says Zoro, trying to sound friendly.

 

…awkward.

 

"Made up with Blondie?" Tashigi asks with a teasing smile.

 

"Back together with Pinkie?" Zoro answers.

 

She smiles. "Why else would I be here?"

 

"I don't know, maybe you were seeing one of her brothers."

 

"Ew."

 

"Or maybe you sneaked in," Zoro shrugs.

 

"Yeah right, cause I'M the one who climed through Sanji's balcony like three hours ago." Look at that, now she was teasing in a friendly way. Zoro can never tell if Tashigi is a friend or an enemy.

 

"How do you even know about that?" Zoro asks, suddendly worried the rest of the house heard him too.

 

"Sanji's room is right on top of the library, we literally saw you the whole time. You know you can just use the door, right?" she asks him like he's dumb.

 

"It's more fun this way" he says, trying to look nonchalant.

 

She pauses and then asks: "You’re scared of Zeff?"

Caught.

 

"...maybe, so what? He's intimidating" Zoro admits, because really, would anyone blame him?

 

"He's an old chef with one leg," she says, leaning on the wall and crossing her arms. "Besides, he likes you more than he likes me and I'm allowed to use the door."

 

"Yeah well, I've never broken up with *my* Vinsmoke," Zoro says, but then he feels that maybe it was a bit cold, so he adds "no offense."

 

"It's fine, it is what it is" Tashigi says, now seeming a little sad.

 

Zoro knows why Tashigi broke up with Reiju a couple times in the past. Reiju and Sanji are pretty close, and naturally, Sanji tells him everything. He doesn't wanna get too involved in other people's bussiness, but at least he can offer some advice.

 

"Hey, so...I don't know much about your relationship but...I often think I don't deserve him either, you know?"

 

Zoro tells her, carefully.

 

Tashigi looks at him, she seems to be paying real attention now.

 

He continues "and that's ok, it's ok to feel unworthy sometimes, but just...try to trust that she thinks you actually are, that you do deserve her and trust her judgement. It's her decision to be with you, to choose you, you know?"

 

A few seconds pass, Zoro starts fidgeting with the fabric of his yellow robe.

 

"Huh...and here I thought Blondie chose you only because of your boobs" Tashigi says, now fully on her feet, with her hands on her hips. She smiles. Zoro mirrors the smile.

 

"Thank you, Zoro" she says and bumps his shoulder softly with her fist.

 

"You're welcome" he says and does the same to her.

 

Just when they finish talking, the door to the bathroom opens.

A VERY tall guy with purple hair comes out wearing a red robe. He stands in the middle of Zoro and Tashigi, looks between them and says “all yours” as he walks away.

The other two stare at each other surprised.

“…was that Charlotte Katakuri?” Tashigi whispers as she looks at the red robe dissappear in the hallway.

“I can’t believe it” Zoro says, finally closing his mouth. “Did he not completely hate Ichiji?” he adds, whispering as well.

“Right, cause two people can’t hate each other but also want to fuck” says Tashigi and gives Zoro a pointed look.

“…ok, I get it” he answers and looks around a bit embarrassed.

“They are way more controversial than you two though, both captains of rival teams” she half whispers as she gets a bit closer.

“The Charlottes are gonna hate us even more” says Zoro.

“Us?”

“Well, yeah, we’re part of the Vinsmoke clan, aren’t we?” Zoro asks with a frown.

“I guess, yeah, I never thought about it before”

A moment passes.

“Hey, look at us gossiping” Zoro laughs. “Guess now I have a friend in this house” he adds as he opens the bathroom door.

“Hey ‘friend’, why do YOU get to go-“ but the door is closed to her face.

The end.

[ediesguidetoeverything]

advice: detaching yourself from male validation & seeking relationships

here's the thing with high school relationships: they are so so fun. the idea of a first love is such a beautiful thing in my opinion, and I think everyone SHOULD experience at like a sort-of romantic relationship before college. this teaches people how to care for others, have communication skills, and serves to help you navigate future, more serious relationships later in life.

HOWEVER, you really, really, really shouldn't ever depend on this idea that you will find a perfect boyfriend or girlfriend in high school, that you'll be sweethearts and go to prom together and be this perfect, complete thing. because, to put it honestly, people think too much about themselves. especially at an age where you are still very much a kid, growing and learning and sometimes not taking others into consideration.

" so, what?" SO, here is how you navigate this incredible strong desire to obtain a boyfriend, or even just romantic attention from guys:

get a hobby. not one to impress anyone but yourself. if you like a guy who's super into film, you don't need to become a ' film girl'. find somethings that screams YOU. it can literally be anything you enjoy doing in your free time, ( i'll put up a link to suggestions here) but I'm personally advising something productive. which brings me to my next point...

get off your phone!!! i can't say enough about this, seriously. if you're constantly checking your socials, on tiktok/snap/insta, you will be taking in the lives of other people, whether it be your friends or complete strangers. this builds jealousy. a proven fact, depression and anxiety is present teenagers who use social media DOUBLE the amount of teens who don't. majority of these apps don't lead to anything good, and mainly serve as major distractions to other important aspects of your life. ( i know you're reading this on tumblr, but i'm here to tell you that my account is good vibes only luv y'all)

non-romantic social interaction is key. everyone needs environments where they are able to decompress, be ugly, be genuine, laugh and have a good time without the upkeep or stress of trying to look a certain way. this is what real friends are for. on top of this, good friends will shut down negative self-talk and hype you up like you deserve to be! spend time with people that make you feel good about yourself.

turning that all into confidence doesn't look like the simplest thing, but trust me, it can be effortless with time and sticking to what you know is best for yourself. putting your phone away creates less windows into other people's lives, which will in turn make you realize that those people you once obsessed over? not that important. reaching that step will be such a relieving feeling, and you won't regret it. putting your time into things you're interested will help you get to know yourself better, enjoy solitude, and will genuinely make you happier. the reason people encourage things like this in the first place is because they work!! the final results of doing these things will look like a self-confidant queen, who doesn't chase, but attracts.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hey, Nalyra

Why do you think Armand was so upset at the idea of turning Madeleine and tried to talk Louis out of it?

Was he actually upset?

Was he actually upset about the turning or possibly something else?

I guess what I'm asking is: can we trust Armand's explanations here that he was repulsed, afraid and angry (the turning being against the rules)?

Cause I gotta say, I'm not entirely convinced. The explanation seems... insufficient, considering everything we know after the reveal.

Also, people seem to agree this is the moment that Armand knew he had to choose the coven over Louis, but idk, is it?

Seems to me he always meant to kill Louis, though maybe he had doubts along the way. If he didn't know wether he was going to kill Louis or not, then what's the point of making Lestat come and take part in the trial? The whole thing was to torture Lestat, so to kill Claudia but not Louis makes no sense, a half measure.

You understand the show and the books so well, I had to ask your opinion. Maybe I'm overly suspicious for no reason.

Love your blog btw, please never stop engaging with the show and with us anons <3

So happy you like!!! *hugs*

I think... I think the plans were in motion, and the principle willingness to kill Louis was there, it had to be, for the trial script to be prepared, for Lestat to be lured over, for the rehearsals, and so on.

In the books, Armand actually influences Louis to make Madeleine, in an effort to get Claudia out of the way. This is different here, I would say, edited tale or not, because there is nothing impromptu about it all. Everything has been planned.

Deep, deep down, Armand is still the coven leader of the Children of Darkness. Lestat came and smashed the remains of the little cult, but he could not get ~400+ years of indoctrination out of Armand. Of course not. And Armand lives by these rules, at least some of them, even in later books, for example he "cleans up" young vampires wherever he goes. Because... he is the coven master, the one to decide over life and death.

Armand, at that point, was very much convinced he would never condemn someone to this life. That is why he could not turn her. He simply could not. And, ultimately, she meant nothing to him.

Armand, as the coven master, denied her the turning, and therefore, for the coven, that was set.

When Louis decided to turn her nonetheless, it went against the coven, the coven rules, the coven ruler. It, wanted or not(!), rejected a part of Armand, a part that Armand (even later on) continues to cling to, like a life line.

Book Armand manipulated Louis to break him free (by destroying the coven), and then lamented to Lestat about Louis being numb with pain (not kidding) afterwards.

The Armand of the show is very much bound to what remains of his coven, it is the only stability he has had and which he sees. And, in a way, this blinds him to an actual possible relationship with Louis that would build on more equal grounds. Unfortunately.

[marinettesaltprompts]

Marinette Salt Prompts: Truth and Lies if they did it again.

Ok so I just saw Ilustrhater today and I ... well I feel that this prompt writes itself doesn't it?

After Alya left with Nino to go investigate the new wielder of the Butterfly Miraculous, Marinette was left alone with Adrien. Sure, Marinette was unsure about what to do, but it would be fine! All she had to do was talk to him ... right?

Well, that seemed to be impossible for Marinette. Unable to talk to her ACTUAL boyfriend, Marinette decided to run off, having used a nearby fire as an excuse to transform, leaving Adrien alone at the cinema for two WHOLE hours because transforming and running off was TOTALLY better idea than asking Adrien what he wanted out of their relationship.

Of course, she was REALLY sorry when she came back to find Adrien still standing there and the movie had already finished, so she tried to make it up to him by bringing him to a nearby cafe. Hopefully that would fix the rest of the day...

Only for that to fail when Marinette once again was unable to talk to her boyfriend. Having ordered some wierd cookies and having accidentally kicked Adrien under the table, she decided to run off again and transform to help Sabrina with a cat stuck in a tree.

It was coincidental that an akuma chose to appear sometime after and Ladybug was there to stop it, but by the time she had detransformed, the ENTIRE DAY had passed without a single bit of communication with Adrien.

Sometime later, Marinette invited Adrien out to another movie, but when he finally got there, Marinette was shocked to find that he had no interest in watching a movie. Instead, he was here to break up with her.

As Marinette and Adrien stood over a bridge, Marinette was starting to tear up as Adrien explained he had no interest in this relationship anymore. Between having lost his father and having been in a prior relationship with Kagami, Adrien told her that as much as he cared about Marinette, he was not willing to put himself in a relationship where his S.O. would run off on him like that, especially since he had already done that to Kagami unintentionally. He missed his father, sure, but he could not forget how his father practically avoided him for most of his life since his mother's death.

Of course, Marinette tried to talk him out of it. Saying that she cares for him, that she had a good reason for running off that day, that he was someone very important to her, but Adrien was having none of that.

Adrien: I still don't understand. Why would you run away? We were supposed to spend the day with each other and just have a good time.

Marinette: I just .... im sorry.... I have no idea how I'm supposed to act in a relationship.

Adrien: Well... admittedly I don't really know either, but I thought that we could have tried to figure this out together. That if I just spent the day with you, I could figure out how to be good enough for you.

Marinette: We still can Adrien. You are good enough, great enough even! Just please ... stay with me. Trust Me.

Adrien: I... I can't. When you left me alone that day... I felt like I lost my family again for the third time. First my mother, then my father, and now the person I love went out of my life. You're telling me to trust you, but how can I trust you when you run off like this? Can I trust that you will stay by my side when I feel the same way? I.... no. I'm sorry Marinette, but this is over. Between everything that happened and now this... I don't think I can be in love again. Not for a while.

Adrien left Marinette in the twilight of Paris, not looking back even as the Heroine of Paris wept and grieved.

[cozmowrites]

Wonderwall: One

one

11:38 AM

you: hi ☺️

bkg: Who the fuck are you?

you: oh im (y/n)! mei is a bit busy with other students so ill help her and fix up what you need on your costume

bkg: I don't need your help.

you: oh okay

2:20 PM

you: you're looking directly at me but you're not talking

you: what is it you need? use your words

bkg: I'm looking for the crazy one.

you: mei is busy with the green haired kid and the robot looking guy. it's me or whoever else with their hands free so pick

bkg: I need my gauntlets fixed.

you: what about them needs fixed?

bkg: Can't you just figure it out? I don't have all evening.

you: feisty

you: im trying to help but i can't because you're not helping

bkg: The crazy one knows.

you: news flash, i am not mei

you: so are you going to tell me or not?

you: i can just hand over the project to someone else that mei trusts less or i can do it and you can tell me.

You looked away from your phone briefly as you watched his eyes avert from your form, annoyed at him for acting so childish. Especially for a third year. You looked back down to your phone to send him a quick text.

you: oh, so you're just not gonna look at me now, ok. have fun with someone else

bkg: Something inside keeps malfunctioning.

like what? mei told me you use that to store your quirk's sweat.

bkg: I don't know. Something isn't pushing the sweat out like it used to.

you: ill look at the problem overnight, but you won't see them until at least tomorrow after school

you: just set them on my desk and ill text you updates if i got them

You looked away from your phone briefly as he set his gauntlets down on your desk with a grumble. You rolled you eyes and added to your text.

you: don't grumble at me

(bakugou disliked your text)

Later that night, you worked in the workshop on his gauntlets, finding the problem after several hours. Before you could dive into it, you heard a text come from your phone. The bright light blinding you momentarily.

7:53 PM

bkg: Update?

you: some of your things in there are rusting, did you know that?

you: i can't fix it from the inside, i have to take it all apart and fix it like that

bkg: No way in hell.

you: bakugou, right?

you: the rust is all inside. you have to replace that every few months because of the moisture from your sweat.

bkg: The crazy one would be able to fix it.

you: im. not. mei.

you: get that through your thick skull.

you: mei gave me your information so that i could help you, and i could help her take off some of the slack.

you: she trusts me the most. do you fucking understand that?

you: i would be GLAD to hand you off to another student in the class.

you: mei didn't tell me you'd be a complete asshole but i should've known when i had seen you in the sports festival win for both first year's and second year's.

you: you're still so full of yourself, even after that big war

you: call me insensitive, but you can let someone else work on your gear and your costume just fine.

you: it's NOT that big of a deal.

bkg: Fine.

bkg: Do whatever you can to fix them.

bkg: Don't fucking break them.

you: why would i do that?

You took a moment to breath from the frustrated typing you just spent. Your breathing raged.

you: put more trust in me third year

(bakugou disliked your message)

You worked tirelessly all night. That's what you did, on all your projects, even student ones. You got no sleep what-so-ever and eventually, you watched the sun rise. It made your eyes and head hurt, but you were quite used to it.

6:04 AM

you: good morning 🌅

you: i completely tore everything apart last night and found more issues so it'll be longer until you get your gauntlets back.

you: on the bright side, i fixed a bunch of stuff mei did in a rush and made it more stable.

7:11 AM

you: your gauntlets are really heavy, do you really carry them around?

you: i thought you had bad wrists or something

you: there's a way to double the sweat storage without making it any heavier for your wrist you know

you: they just won't look so classic to your grenades or whatever

You decided to step away from your desk and head to the student's dorms to change and freshen up. Just since it'll be another day of school and you spent all night in at your desk in the classroom.

A little over an hour passed, and you were back at the classroom, the rest of the students working hard on their projects and gear for other students. You, however, stopped when you saw breakfast on your desk. You furrowed your brows, it was not from the cafeteria, rather bought from some fast food place. There wasn't a note or anything, but Mei saw you quickly and peered around the corner.

"Bakugou dropped that off for you by the way." She smiled and returned to her work area, busying herself once again. You couldn't ask her further what was up. Or if he had said anything when he dropped it off. You didn't want to bother her further.

8:26 AM

you: yo mei said you stopped by and left this shit on my desk

you: [image of food attached]

you: is this your way of paying for tearing apart your gauntlets?

you: either way, ill eat it ig

You didn't give him the satisfaction of a 'thank you'. He didn't deserve it, he treated you like shit.

12:03 PM

you: i got it mostly done. you can pick them up tomorrow morning.

(bakugou liked your message)

By the time evening rolled around, you fixed the gauntlets earlier than intended. It's evening and you haven't eaten since lunch (which was 6 hours ago). You can't decide whether to eat and just return the gauntlets after eating or to pay Bakugou back for the breakfast and return his gauntlets to him.

You ultimately decided.

5:07 PM

you: by the way, your gauntlets are heavy as fuck.

You switched to your dashdoor app and looked at options for food. No need to try and order food for anyone else, no one else was in here with you except for Yuka. Mei was out doing who knows what.

"Hey Yuka, Do you want anything? I'm ordering takeout." You decided to ultimately speak up. Yuka was a good classmate to you, and often covered for you, so you could pay her back with some food or something. 

"If you're offering, sure." She smiled at you, her voice soft and gentle, compared to Mei's or Power Loader's.

"What would you like?" You asked, genuinely curious in her taste in foods. You'd assume soft and sweet, but when she opened to answer, you were a bit surprised.

"Spicy. The spiciest they have." She smiled and turned back to her workspace. You ordered food for the both of you and when it arrived, you ate quietly. She would occasionally ask a question about what you were working on currently, only for her to nod or hum in response.

When you finished eating, you bid goodbye to Yuka and she did the same. You headed down the hall and past the hero course hall, kind of curious as to if Bakugou was still hanging around. You could give him his gauntlets, but that would result on taking a detour and all you wanted to do was get home. You ultimately decided to just go home, shaking off every curiosity you had about Bakugou. He was not worth a thought. You headed home instead.

The next morning was pretty uneventful. You settled in to your workspace and started messing with a project of yours's that you started, some old junk that maybe could be some laser detection or something. You weren't sure. You tore apart other old projects of Mei's because she gave you permission to do so, and want to try your hand at something different. It was just regular free time morning stuff. The door opened and the ash blond walked in, in his school uniform. Hands in pockets and all. You rolled your eyes and pointed to the gauntlets on the other half of your workspace.

"My costume tore." He gruffly spoke up, pulling his bag around from his back and pulling out a folded hero costume.

"Okay?" You replied, not interested in fixing it, or at least fixing it right away. "Not my problem."You don't take bullshit from anyone, especially not Bakugou. He was notorious for that, or so you've heard.

He shook his head and replied with a 'tsk', inviting himself into a chair. "I don't care. Fix it."

"Is saying 'please' so difficult? Maybe saying it will have me care a little more." You replied, going back to messing with this item if yours's. He tapped his foot impatiently.

"I need it by this afternoon."

"Great." You snapped back quickly.

He let out an aggravated sigh. A moment later, a message notification.

8:20 AM

bkg: Why can't you just fucking do it? It'll only take a few minutes.

you: where's the "please"? hm?

you: i only do nice things for people if they're nice back

bkg: You piss me off.

bkg: Fix it.

you: you piss me off too!

you: im glad the feeling is mutual

you: and i won't do shit

you: you said you need it by the afternoon?

you: you'll come get it at lunch

you: you are not my priority today

you: i gave you priority yesterday

"You texted me just to get the same answer." You spoke up making him snap his head up from his phone. You were right, all he did was get the same answer, but in text form. You shook your head and set down the laser sensor. "I'll give it to you at lunch."

He stood from his chair and moved out of the room without another word. You'll work on this other student's thing and then his in time for lunch.

+++

By the time lunch rolled around, you finished the fix. It was a bit more difficult than you had hoped. You're not one to see costumes, that's usually Yuka's thing, but she was not in the classroom usually until afternoon so you had to take what she taught you and remember it the best you could. You were better with hardware over anything else. You got your lunch tray through the line and walked over to where you saw the ash blond poking out from the crowd. He was sitting with 4 others that looked like they invited themselves there.

"Here." You set down the bag in front of him and he looked up at you briefly before a loud voice gasped.

"Oh my gosh, you're so pretty! You know Bakugou? You should totally sit down and eat with us!!" You looked over and it was the pink alien one.

====

read it all here:

wattpad

ao3

[emeraldart]

Got bored so, incorrect quotes under the cut (saving them to maybe draw later)

Jentry: If we don’t get out of this alive… If we’re both about to die… I love you, Stella ! Neither of them die Stella : … Jentry: … Stella : So do you wanna talk about somethi- Jentry: No thank you.

——

Ed: Hey, I say we go down there, kick Stella ’s door in, and let them know that we’re in town. Kit: That ain’t the way we do things here. We may have to go in there and run a con, drop a bug, do the smooth talking. Ed: Okay, you come with me, you do the smooth talking, let’s go. Kit: No, we just can’t go in there and kick down Stella ’s door. We need a plan. Ed: Well who makes the plans? Kit: Jentry. Ed: Jentry, what's the plan? Jentry:You guys are gonna go down there, kick Stella ’s door in, let them know you’re in town.

——

Michael: Jentry’s out the will. Jentry: That’s honestly fair. I deserve that. Stella : Wait, you have a will? Already? You haven’t even graduated. Michael: I’ve done some things in my life. Upset the wrong people. Kit, you have a will too, right? Kit: Lots. Good luck figuring out which one’s real.

——

Jentry: I am convinced Gugu and Ed share a brain cell. Michael: And it's not in use very often, it seems.

——

Michael: Are you a cuddler? Jentry: I'm a machine of death and destruction. Michael: Jentry: …Yeah, I'm a cuddler.

——

Ed: I'd roast you, but my mom says you can't burn trash. Ed: slow-mo walks out of the room

——

Gugu: Tommorrow's garbage day. Kit: I can't believe they made a whole day dedicated to you.

——

Ed: I am 39 cheetos tall. Michael: Why… are you measuring your height in cheetos? Ed: Because we're out of doritos.

——

Kit: I found a note in one of my old word .docs that said Note to self: Get revenge on Michael. Kit: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for. Kit: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it. Michael: Hmm… I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either. Kit: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though. Michael: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it. Kit: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

——

Ed, at Gugu’s funeral: I need a moment with them. Everyone else at the funeral: Of course. leaves Ed, leaning over Gugu’s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Gugu, sitting up in the coffin: Yeah, no shit.

——

Jentry: I met this person on tinder and asked for their last name. They sent it to me and went “Doing a little background check? You might find out I’m a murderer, just ignore that” with a kissy wink emoji. Alright so I good sense of humour. Jentry: I looked them up, they were a murderer.

——

Jentry: Ugh, crushes are so dumb. Kit: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid. Jentry: But you’re always acting stupid? Kit: … Kit: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

——

Kit: is throwing stones at Michael's window Michael: You have a phone for a reason, Kit! THUD Michael: DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR PHONE AT MY WINDOW?!

[juweldom]

Ch. 39: Confirmation

The Heart of the Song - Chapter 39 - Juwelz - Final Fantasy XIV [Archive of Our Own]

Summary: A few things are confirmed in this chapter, inside the Waking Sands.

(Takes place post-Heavensward 3.4 during "Beneath A Star-Filled Sky.")

[dreamyintersexouppy]

idk i do like hearing peoples perspectives and arguments about transfeminism, but i believe what i believe about it because the arguments for it are effective and the evidence we have supports their conclusions. yea they also help me conceptualize events in my life through a transfeminist lens but that is what theoretical frameworks are For, they begin with the evidence and describe the experience.

i think semantic arguments and talk of empty unity and dismissing through sexualization are just as much tactics of argumentation and to me they're are highly ineffective in doing anything but making the people using them look good to an uninformed observer. its the reason we say a lot that some people here have a "vibes based politics" because it's clear from their arguments and rhetoric that they think of these arguments as a way to display an image rather than to actually have a discussion.

thats why im pissy and get upset and block people, they're just wasting peoples time for their own egos rather engaging with any of these concepts or acknowledging that what they know might not be totalizing. the desperation to have a perfect unsullied and intelligent image is why posts like mine pointing out a subtle dogwhistle will get backlash that amounts to telling me i'm making it up. i am communicating to them that there is a piece of knowledge that they might not have considered or even known is offensive to them so they reach for reactionary defenses instead of treating the trans woman in front of them like a person

[longagoitwastuesday]

I am liking Jujutsu Kaisen, way more than I imagined I would, but I foresee it will let me down and it's keeping me from enjoying this as much as I could haha

I think the characters and dynamics are well set, and I think many of them have an incredibly good and deep potential, but I would be willing to bet they'll not get a proper development, enough for them to really hit. A well assembled set of gears is not enough to make the movement go, you have to wind the clockwork.

I think Gojo and Megumi have a fascinating and very complex dynamic, but I doubt it will be given the time and care that imo it needs to actually work. And it is going well enough for now! One could see the intimacy between them was deeper than the one Gojo had with, say, Yuji and Nobara ever since the very first few episodes despite the fact Fushiguro too was a first year. But the pieces forming what they have are extremely complex, and it just wouldn't be realistic if it doesn't show, even if in a not showing way, or if it doesn't have consequences or implications.

It's one of those dynamics that shape one's life, the way one regards the world, the way one establishes or not relationships with other people. It's one of those dynamics that could be full of fondness, gratitude, resentment, admiration, trust, and that imply intimacy, the good kind or the bad, even if in just the knowledge of someone who's been a constant through your life. It could, and would, imply a myriad of feelings, and probably in such a mix it could imply contradictory feelings too. Even the nothingness would weight, even the nothingness would be significant and meaningful.

Gojo took Megumi and his sister under his wing, the son of a man who murdered him, because of both selfish and selfless reasons. Megumi looks like Toji. What does Gojo feel about this? How does Gojo deal with this? How does Gojo go about taking care of Megumi? Would he walk him to school? Make him breakfast? Celebrate his birthdays making him blow candles? Did he take him to the zoo? Does the relationship between them feel professional or is it something more? Gojo appreciates his students, but is Megumi to him just another student? When Gojo faces Sukuna in Megumi's body, did he see the kid he raised, or does he just see Sukuna in one of his students' body? Did he have one faint wavering instant? And how does Megumi feel about this? Is he resentful of him? Resentful of the situation? Of the selfishness behind his actions? Does he feel like a pawn? Is he grateful? Does he resent feeling grateful? Would he rather not? Does he love Gojo? Does he feel nothing about him other than what he could feel about a teacher that sort of annoys him but knows he's reliable in his strength? Does he think it unfair, cruel or unfeeling that Gojo is close, closer perhaps, with Yuuji or Yuta, considering their story? When Sukuna slices Gojo in two, does the remnants of Megumi's soul tremble?

And not just Megumi and Gojo. Yuuji and Nanami, Gojo and Nanami, Yuuji and Fushiguro, Nobara and the boys, or Nobara and Maki, Todo and Yuuji or Yuta, Gojo and Yuta, Megumi and his sister. Gojo and Geto, even! If the pieces are well set, the dynamics are intriguing, interesting, and have potential to be deep, but then the characters have like two plot relevant scenes that punch you hard, but little more, it's not nearly enough. Especially not nearly enough for the enormity that is shonen dynamics and situations. And the potential existing at all, and then not delivering, makes it all the more frustrating when you're left with something mediocre that could have been so good.

The development of dynamics through not only a few plot relevant gut wrenching moving scenes, but also the smallness of life, is important. The friend who recommended this to me said that those things were just unnecessary filler, but I disagree. I think there's a big difference between a large amount of anime-only filler episodes whose existence is based on the fact they had run out of manga chapters to animate, and moments of quietness. The low stakes character-driven moments of quietness can be so telling and so insightful, and they are so satisfactory when brought back later in higher stakes situations. My friend teased me there was no scene of Gojo making breakfast to Megumi, that it would be an idiotic idea, but it would be so telling. How he makes breakfast, what they eat, if he tries hard or if it's all mechanised, if they have personal bowls or if they use whatever, if he just buys them some pastry on the way to school, if the way they have breakfast changes through the years, or if he doesn't make them breakfast at all! All that would be very insightful on their dynamic and its evolution. All that would give a glimpse on how they regard each other and why, even in the present. All that could become meaningful in tense situations and high stakes scenes.

These moments also let the plot breath; if a lot is happening all the time, if every character is always experiencing trauma after trauma, the entire story is so emotionally draining that at some point you don't even care all that much. Besides, these nothing moments or low stakes plot arcs, besides deepening and developing dynamics, also let some in-world time pass, which would make the intimacy and bond between characters more believable imo; between Yuuji eating Sukuna's finger and their last confrontation in December how much time has passed? A few months? Am I truly to believe these characters are so everything to each other in only a few months?

Without some smallness, some repetition, some daily life, some low stakes not plot-centric development, the dynamics don't hit, they don't truly feel fleshed out, and dynamics as complex as the ones Megumi and Gojo have, or as supposedly meaningful as the one Megumi has with Yuuji or his sister, should be fleshed out if they're going to exist at all. Otherwise they'd risk making the writing feel awkward and fake. Besides, if the dynamics felt well fleshed out and realistic, they would shape the way the characters interact and act, and how they deal with situations, thus being plot relevant.

The shonen genre has so much happening all the time, the stakes are so high, the dynamics are so rooted in big events and the relationships carry enormous weight and implications. Yet they barely get developed, and it feels so stupid, so plain, the absence of something so important noticeable like a constant void, a shapeless nothingness present in every scene. It makes the characters feel like cardboard figures. Jujutsu Kaisen is already getting a better job than many, but I doubt it will do enough for what I've heard, and I fear I am bound to feel let down, and bound to feel unmoved.

After all, if not enough time and care has been given to develop a dynamic, I am not going to feel pressured by the high stakes; if not enough time and care has been given to develop the dynamic between Megumi and Yuuji, as good potential as it has I am bound to feel little for this last confrontation between Sukuna and Itadori, and his effort in getting Megumi back.

[equalperson]

I fucking hate being traumatized because why am I bawling the hardest I've bawled in god-knows-how-long because someone I didn't even like that much berated Me. gasping wailing trembling and snotting over this for several minutes.

[jichanxo]

how different is your creative process between writing and drawing (and in which areas)? do you have a different approach in each artform? if you have an idea, you first think how you'd write it or draw it?

This is definitely going to be long so. Cut.

Just to preface, obviously both writing and drawing are a form of art, but I tend to use the word “art” when I mean illustration or drawing, so that’s what I’m going to do here. And of course a disclaimer that I’m only speaking to my subjective experience.

Tbh I don’t think my approach to both is that different from each other, which is odd, because I’m used to thinking of them as very different processes. Probably because the mediums themselves are so different. But like with my writing, I tend to improvise. Feel it out, see how things go, throw ideas at the wall. I would probably say that I’m more willing to experiment with/scrap my art than my writing. Probably because I’m more confident with my art than my writing, so I find it easier to make judgments like that, or because I’ve made so much that throwing stuff away when it isn’t working is very easy. I get a bit more precious about my writing. I always want to keep it or at least try to adapt it into something less bad, lmao. I’m also just not as confident in my ability to judge what writing is worth keeping or worth permanently deleting. I just haven’t polished that skill for writing as much as I have for art.

With regards to planning my art – I definitely do sometimes, because I consider art my Serious Hobby, which means I do like to have a go at more serious projects as opposed to just improvising all the time (a contrast to my writing where my only “serious project” is senseific, and I fell into that by accident). The things I plan out are the idea/s I want to convey, and what imagery would express that. (like this IW art, and the second one in this umineko post) Or sometimes the imagery gets stuck in my head and I work from that. (yagami’s hair clinging to his neck here)

I actually find that planning too much can be detrimental to my art process. That is to say, not in terms of figuring out ideas/themes, but doing too much drafting. I find it very difficult to do things like clean lineart unless I’m having a Weirdly Good Art Moment, so I just don’t. Hence a lot of my art is very sketchy. I’m just not good at capturing the same looseness with “proper” lineart than with my sketches, so I keep them. Not worth fussing over. This is what works for me.

(even in this, and the first image here, you can see a lot of breaks and incomplete looking lines. not to say necessarily that this is a bad thing of course, but you can see that even in what I consider my “polished” work, I won’t use “proper” linework, but instead a high quality/detailed sketch. I imagine some other artists would have their proper linework stage after these sketches, but i choose to stop here)

this probably reads like I’m talking myself down, but that’s not really what I’m meaning to say – my point is that I don’t figure out details even for my bigger pieces, and that with drawn art I have a better time judging where my time is best spent. I don’t think I have a strong understanding of my writing by comparison, so I can’t decide how to play to my strengths or anything like that, I just have to see how i go.

For writing, either it’s “i’m in the mood for it” or “i’m not in the mood for it”. For art, it’s “today is a good day/bad day”, “today’s a painting day”, “today feels like masking”, “today I just want to sketch”, “today I’m too loose for what I want to work on”, “today I’m too stiff”. You can see the difference in my ability to judge, yeah? So a big difference is to do with just my own (relative) inexperience with writing as opposed to drawing.

I think the other major factor is the differences in the mediums themselves. A fanfic is sequential. There’s a change in time. Illustrations are by nature a single moment in time. Big difference there. Of course, there are comics and animatics and other art that’s both drawn and sequential, but since I don’t do a lot of that, just count that as exceptions for now (and in a way, those are kind of like a combination of writing and illustration, aren’t they?) I find there are some ideas that are conveyed easier or better through writing, and others where the better option is art.

So to answer your last question, often ideas come to me pre-packaged as a “writing idea” or an “art idea”, rather than having to decide that separately. In the case that a sequence is better conveyed with a visual element, that’s when it’s comic time. The gorillashipping comic is a great example of this. The punchline is at its best when it’s not explained in words, and the expression of the final panel does all the heavy lifting. I pitched this idea initially in words (as a joke on discord), but the comic version has more punch.

Comics are also great for when you want to avoid explaining context, and for when you want to force the reader to take a specific pace. Here’s the example I’m thinking of.

The visual space dedicated to the fighting forces you to take time to process, and that time is important for the buildup to the punchline. This wouldn’t work as well if we cut this down to, say, the four panels of the last example. So yeah, timing. And then my other point – context – why are these two fighting? I don’t know. Where are they? I don’t know. It’s not necessary for the joke. The same is true of the gorillashipping joke. How did the relationship between kiryu and kaito happen to make this even remotely possible? I don’t know. But I don’t need to explain it in a joke comic. With writing I find that it feels more necessary to make context clear to the reader so they understand what’s happening, but with illustrations, it’s a lot easier to skip over that. Obviously this isn’t impossible in a written format, but that’s just my personal opinion.

Admittedly I think this second example is doable with just pure writing (replace all the panels with descriptions of the fight that take long enough to simulate the time it takes for the reader to digest the build up, then make the punchline a wham line, yknow), but it varies on a case to case basis. Also I would not want to write fighting. Lmao. I’m not… any good at that. So I guess it is also just in part about playing to strengths.

Anyway, enough comic side tangent. I’ve already started talking about it there, but was going to do a comparison between writing and art as mediums. The main thing, I find, is that they have different strengths. More than strengths/weaknesses though, the mediums themselves convey some things with ambiguity, and other things with detail.

Like I first mentioned, time: it’s easier to convey the passage of time with writing than with illustration. And like I said before with comics – conveying context – because an illustration captures a single moment in time, it’s a lot easier to avoid context entirely, while it’s harder to avoid in writing. I’ve drawn kuwagami cuddles before, and there’s no background, nothing discernable as to the lead up or any other detail. And that’s great! I don’t want to have to invent a plausible reason for them to end up hugging. I can just do it, right? But sometimes it’s the context that makes things significant, so you do want it there. A better job for writing. Writing allows you to be detailed with your context, while illustration leaves it ambiguous. Different strengths. You just pick which best fits the situation.

It’s a similar case for a lot of different factors – they're conveyed differently through both mediums, and depending on your idea, some results are more desirable than others. Rather than explaining, it’s probably better to do a direct comparison. (If it makes any difference to your curiosity, I did the drawing first then the writing. You’ve caught me on a good art day, what a nice sketch…)

I’ll try not to talk too much because I think the comparison and table say enough, but you can see how, despite depicting basically the same thing, these two things feel pretty different from each other. The mediums do different things. The mood of both is similar, but not quite the same. It’s these differences that inform the choice of mediums instinctually. (but again. points at disclaimer. as is true with all “rules” about art, none of these are absolute. you can make an illustration that conveys a strong context. you can write fic that favours describing facial expressions and leaves the intended emotion ambiguous. i’m generalising to make a point here.)

I guess the other thing is that it’s pretty easy to do writing in bed on my phone compared to my art setup, lmao. Convenience and timing also play into it probably.

[tinycontainer]

i think more business owners should look inward when they complain about issues. is it annoying to have to hire multiple times a year? yes, absolutely. WHY do you think the turnover is so high if everyone says they enjoy the work?? surely. no. it couldn't be the person in charge.

[ratsword]

internet not big enough...saw what is unmistakably his art style and felt like vomiting. it's crazy how someone can continue to poison you even after years of being blocked.

[strike-9]

saw a post on here about making friends as an adult and i feel conflicted cuz like, overall i agree that all you have to do is get the courage to show up and get the ball rolling by talking to people/getting their numbers even if it feels cringe or 'wrong' to do so however i can't help but raise my eyebrow at the 'act like they're already your friend' part because some people lean way to into that to the point where they forget we're not actually friends yet which inevitably leads to them saying/doing something that's pretty out of line so like. yes put yourself out there, talk to them and get to know them but please remember that people need to actually like, warm up to each other which could take weeks of speaking to them regularly at minimum