#the amount of personal art i keep hidden from the internet

[solmesia]

trans astarion u agree

[deadlyflan]

Since I'm writing fanfiction, a fair amount of worldbuilding has already been done for me by approx 40 years of canon TMNT materials. TMNT Chain Reaction, the fic eating my brain right now, is specifically set in 1995 New York City. Again, oodles of groundwork already laid for me: Twin Towers were still standing, cell phones were primitive with limited coverage, the internet was predominately text-based accessible by landline dial-up modem, television was the primary news source, and surveillance systems were tape-recorded and not linked together in widespread networks. There are far more ways for the TMNT to stay hidden in 1995 than any story set in 2023. All that being said, my story features two "Evil Science Laboratories" which need to be developed! Each team of scientists has their own goals. Each facility must be set up to accommodate those goals. My original characters spend their lives within one or the other and will be shaped/stunted by their experiences inside each. It's very important that I flesh out these locations. Jumping off of the idea that laboratories will have an out-sized influence on my captive mutants, there's also worldbuilding in the CULTURE that those captive mutants develop amongst themselves. The 1990s Movie TMNT are heavily influenced by the human world. They watch it. They hide from it. They have television and sneak into movies. They listen to the radio and have records. They read the books; they learned enough science/engineering to repair what they salvage. They are raised from childhood by a domesticated pet rat mutant. They are devoted to and deeply immersed in human martial arts. Yet even with all that human cultural influence, they are TURTLES living in POVERTY in a SEWER. They don't choose to wear clothing (probably because it's easier to be dry and clean without fabric). They battle criminals. They live with hypervigilance against threats. They know deprivation and they hoard anything that could be useful against future problems. What other turtle-specific 'family habits' do the TMNT have? What things are their 'normal,' but absolutely atypical for a human household? What things do they share in common with other squatters and homeless persons? How has their micro-culture evolved? I make happy burbling noises every time I consider this. Which is why, looping back to the laboratories as being pressure chambers for CAPTIVE mutant culture, I'm in the throes of ecstasy. Captives would not have to scavenge like the TMNT for food, fresh water, and supplies, but the food and supplies they do receive would be limited and tied to good behavior. Captives would have had life-long close-contact with humans, but the secrecy of their existence would keep the number of humans they'd ever met very low. They would have access to media: books and TV, but the materials and videos provided would be educational at best. Then there's the question of who these captive mutants are when they're amongst themselves. Group dynamics, constant surveillance, and rewarded behavior would all force very strange adaptations in children. There's also the aspect of fable-making and story-telling--not as in "Fairy Tales!"--but rather... when these sheltered children do not understand what is happening to them or why, how do they rationalize it? As they grow into adulthood, what superstitions and assumptions do they retain? How can these characters reconcile the human worlds and fantasy worlds that they are shown in books and videos with their own lives? What coping mechanisms and beliefs keep them balanced? Um. Yes. There's so much worldbuilding to be done even in a fanfic, because this kind of things fascinates the hell out of me. It makes the characters more three-dimensional. And, as previously stated, I have brainworms about turtles. 2. I based a portion of the retreat from the rescue on this photograph. The turtles are being hunted and will escape through the giant ventilation tube on the ceiling!

I did so much research into tunnel ventilation for this. You have no idea. Turtle. Brainworms. 3. I tend to overthink things fairly well on my own? But I definitely read the lists of 'OC questions' and 'Worldbuilding questions' when they scroll across my dash. I just don't tend to write out all the answers. This whole Ask-A-Thon thing is an exception to that, I suppose. :)

Day 5

How much do you worldbuild? Why that much?

What’s your favorite random fact about your story and/or characters?

Do you use character and worldbuilding questions when planning? Or do you just develop them as you go? Why or why not?

[cherrykindness]

wild tweets |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: as newlyweds, you and harry read thirsty comments for buzzfeed.

warning: it's thirsty tweets, so below there is adult humor 😳

"It's a bright, sunny morning in Los Angeles, and there's nothing I want more than to be on BuzzFeed and read wild tweets alongside my husband."

"Thirsty tweets, babe." Harry corrected, laughing out loud with the producers behind the cameras.

"Thirsty Tweets." You said quickly, putting your hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. "I'm terrible at that, I'm sorry. Can we start over?"

"Let's take a break for one to two minutes. You've given us a great introduction, Y/N."

You shook your head, smiling shyly before turning to Harry, who was already watching you with that easy smile at the corner of his lips. You liked how his hand remained firmly on yours, making those circular movements with the thumb that always served as a natural medice for your anxiety.

"You look so fucking beautiful."

The pleated dress with flounce sleeves fit you like a glove. You had made peace with the various shades of white since the wedding and knew that Harry liked to see you in that color too.

"Thank you, you're not too bad either, Styles."

You intimately suspected that Harry would always seem far beyond that "not bad" that came out as a euphemism from your mouth. He wore nothing but a pair of bell-bottom pants in a strong shade of blue and a soft vest printed with fluffy little sheep on a striped American collared shirt - in your opinion, no one could look better in farm animal clothing than Harry Styles and Princess Diana with her red "Black Sheep" sweater in the 1980s. In contrast, you knew your husband well enough to know that he was arrogant and knew exactly how hot he looked - you also made your thoughts clear enough when you kept him backstage beyond ten minutes in a rather heated kissing session.

"Are you anxious?" you asked curiously, remaining with downcast eyes fixed on the strokes that remained assiduous on your warm skin. "To read about how the whole internet dreams of fucking my wife?! Of course." Harry joked, leaning over to leave a small one on your cheek. "We agree on that, don't we? Although I'm a little nervous, I'm really interested to know all the crazy things they say about you. Everyone knows you're mine at the end of the day, that's enough."

At the end of the break, you and Harry made a silent agreement that you should be the first to pick up one of the scattered papers in the red pot. There were quite a significant amount of tweets, and as much as you were used to reading rather sordid things about your husband on the Internet, the excitement was there as if you were wading into uncharted territory.

"I would be a good girl all year round if Santa guaranteed me a threesome with Harry and Y/N Styles on Christmas Eve." You laughed, Harry staring at the camera with an expression close to the meme of the surprised Pikachu. "You guys are incredibly nasty, I love it."

"If that was the first one, I'm really worried about the next ones." Harry commented with a little corner smile, picking the next tweet out of the bucket. "I have an entire folder on Pinterest dedicated to Harry Styles' hands, and let me tell you why: those hands are art, and art needs to be recognized."

"What- Guys, you promised you wouldn't post my anonymous tweets here." You quipped with false reproach, laughing at your own stupid joke while everyone else in the studio did the same. "But I can't blame her, honestly." Shaking your shoulders, you opened another piece of paper. "Harry Styles finally confessed that he wrote Watermelon Sugar for Y/N!!!! Are you guys imagining the same thing as me?!!!!!! 🥵🍆💦"

"Exhausted emoji, eggplant emoji, and water emoji?" Harry frowned, staring at the tweet you held up. "I imagine you're in need of a vacation somewhere refreshing and you're craving a fruit that everyone eats like it's really a vegetable."

"That reminded me of that story-" You laughed, hiding your face on the table as Harry continued to offer a poker face to the camera, struggling not to keep up with you laughter. "I'm sorry, lovie, I have to share this with the rest of the world." You stated, wiping a few tears from the corner of your eyes. "Harry always wears those fancy suits to concerts, right?! Right! Turns out he looks really hot in some, like his ass molds perfectly into those tight pants and everything. I was home that night because I wasn't feeling well enough to face the big crowds, but I was still following everything on twitter. It was a concert in London, not so far from where we lived at the time, so it was obvious that he would come home after it was over. I follow some portals that do really fast updates of pictures, videos, etc; everything that happened at Harry's concert was on my timeline in a matter of seconds. When one of these profiles uploaded a picture of him with his back to the camera in a heavily accentuated black and white suit, I quickly sent him the image along with a peach emoji and then wrote "looks good tonight". He didn't reply to me until a few hours later, of course, but I obviously didn't expect a "ready for a Fifth Avenue peach salad for dinner?" and numerous cutlery emojis."

Harry rolled his eyes comically, indulging in laughter as did everyone else who occupied the backstage area.

"I'm against the eroticization of emojis." He said between uncompensated breaths, shaking his head negatively. "Let's go to the next ones, please, I'm already feeling exposed enough here."

"I like your old-fashioned spirit, baby." You assured him with a smile, laying on the sturdy shoulder hidden under the fluffy fabric.

Harry chuckled low, leaving a little kiss on the top of your head before selecting the next paper. The fans would die when that video aired, everyone was sure. You two easily forgot the cameras when you were side by side, and the public display of affection had never been a problem.

"My life mission is to look at someone the way Harry looks at Y/N and be reciprocated the way Y/N looks at Harry, then I could die happy." Harry read. "That was very good and healthy, thank you!" He smiled. "But don't settle for death in that case, please. Just make sure to keep that person around forever."

"Awn, we got so sweet now." You made a pout. "Thank you for sending us something so cute! I really hope you find the right person soon." Sending a kiss to the camera, you moved on to the next tweet. "I wouldn't want to get a golden ticket to visit Willy Wonka's factory, I would like to get a golden ticket to actively participate in Y/N and Harry Styles' Honeymoon.

"That was creative, so I will disregard the fact that you removed my last name from my wife's name." Harry joked.

"I will always be an Y/L/N." You flashed the tongue. "We had a great Honeymoon, but I know you guys already know all about it because there are pictures all over the internet of outings that I don't even remember existed."

"Even though we chose a rather reserved city, many paparazzi still managed to photograph some of our nights there." Harry agreed. "There was one particular day when we opted to have dinner at a restaurant near the beach. Y/N had found it even before the trip, it was pretty laid back and we could spend the evening at karaoke. I don't really remember what happened, but we woke up the next day with a terrible hangover, still wearing the clothes from the dinner and with several headlines saying that I was cheating on my wife in the middle of our Honeymoon with a blue-haired italian girl."

"That wig made me sexy, man." You blinked, laughing as you remembered the situation. "It's a shame the paparazzi only got low quality images, but I swear I looked really amazing that night. Italy, I miss you."

"We're coming to the end and I haven't had to ask production for a glass of water yet, thank you to whoever selected these tweets." Harry raised his thumb to the camera, smiling before turning his gaze back to the small paper he had chosen. "Y/N could literally punch me in the face and I would just bow down and thank them for it." He laughed. "She has heavy hands, so I would rethink that choice."

"It takes strong hands to be a superheroine." You blinked gracefully, referring to your works as a Marvel actress. "I move around a lot during the night, so I'll take this lovely opportunity to say that twitter can dismiss all the malicious theories about Harry always show up with a new bruise all over his body."

"Please stop making indecent assumptions while Y/N is aggressive with me at night only unconsciously, her father has access to social media."

You laughed, clearing your throat before reading the next obscenity aloud.

"I would sell all my possessions to have Y/N sitting on my lap for ten seconds."

"Oh my God." Harry laughed out loud, throwing his head back. "I should have said that in our wedding vows."

You shook your head, laughing low as you set the tweet aside.

"That was pretty funny and cheeky, I approve."

"Okay, looks like we finally got to the last one." Harry announced, waving the paper in the air dramatically before opening it. "Harry could literally crush me with those boots while fuc- I need that glass of water." He said dumbfounded, hiding his face between his hands after throwing the tweet over his shoulder. You laughed out loud next to the organizers, and meanwhile Harry leaned his head on your bust, staring at you still with wide eyes. "Please promise that we will be careful with our future children on the internet."

[sonderastrology]

🌙🌈✨Astrology Notes✨☄️🌟

*Based on things I’ve noticed about different placements as a Leo sun/Virgo moon/Capricorn rising... these notes may not resonate for everyone but that’s just the way the cookie crumbles baby* MADE BY SONDERASTROLOGY

🧿I see the people I’m close with more as their moon sign with a dash of their sun, almost as if the placements were reversed. This is because the moon sign is sort of hidden at first whereas the sun sign is the core energy. When you befriend or love someone, the moon sign (emotions, mental processes) is slowly uncovered and in my opinion, takes over the general energy of the sun. Of course, all signs, houses, and aspects are important... this is just the way I look at it idk.

🧿Everyone needs a best friend with the same rising sign as your moon sign... they just *get* you.

🧿Also having friends with the same mars sign as you is so important! They can hype you up like no other and vice versa.. your vibes just click.

🧿I’ve noticed that people with opposite sun signs but rising signs in the same element take AMAZING pictures together. For example; A Pisces sun w a Leo rising and a Virgo sun w a Sagittarius rising would make eachother look bomb in photos.

🧿Pisces, cancer, Virgo, and libra placements are proned to being stalked and hit on by weird men... I’ve seen it too many times, protect yourselves!!!

🧿People always tell me that they were intimidated by me at first or even “scared”, and that I give off a bitchy vibe. My placements that indicate this?Capricorn rising (Uranus, Neptune, Lilith in 1st house), Leo venus and Virgo moon in my 8th house, Scorpio MC, Scorpio and Pluto in my 11th house. Other placements that can have this effect: Aries, Scorpio, Aquarius, and Earth signs in personal planets/MC/Rising signs. Personal planets aspecting mars, Pluto, saturn, sometimes Neptune, and Lilith. Mars/Aries, Saturn/Capricorn Pluto/Scorpio in the 1st, 2nd, 7th, 10th, 11th house. 8th house placements and Chart Ruler in the 8th, 10th, and maybe 12th house. There’s definitely a whole lot more placements not just these.

🧿Aquarius/Air dominant people (esp mixed with fire) along with an array of other placements I’m sure, have a VERY hard time with forced structure and routine... it brings out their rebellious nature.My best friend from high school is an Aquarius Sun Gemini Moon (with an Aries mars), and she DESPISED going to school for 7 hours a day, she just couldn’t do it. She would skip school all the time and eventually enrolled in night school. Same went for my other friend who was a Sag sun Gemini moon, both of them would act TF out in class. They’d fight with teachers, the principle, other students... and I really believe it was due to the forced schedules and the power dynamic between teachers and students in high school. The Aquarius sun person is my best friend today, and she’s one of the smartest people I know. Just because you weren’t “good” at school does NOT mean you aren’t smart. Fuck the system is an air sign BRAND.

🧿I’ve noticed A LOT of Gemini sun, moon, and rising people have light shades of hair... mostly blonde or dirty blonde.

🧿I’ve met 4 people born on the 28th of the month and all of them are incredibly beautiful... no matter what sign. Same goes for July Leo’s although I’ve noticed that they’re more arrogant and self centered than August Leo’s who are more generous and outgoing

🧿Your Jupiter sign can help you work with law of attraction and manifestation more effectively. If you have Jupiter in an air sign, try manifesting things by; writing it down, saying it out loud, visualization, and meditation. If you have Jupiter in a fire sign; manifest under the sun, write out a plan even if it’s unrealistic. If you want money, hold even a penny or a dollar and act as if it’s the amount you want. Act as if everything you want is already yours. If you have Jupiter in an earth sign; manifest while doing yoga or on a walk. Manifest outside or read/listen to positive affirmations. Jupiter in a water sign; manifest using crystals and rocks with guidance from tarot. Manifest through the arts and hobbies; draw what you want or make a song. Something where you can use your creativity. *All of these methods for manifestation are effective for all of the signs I just think that certain ways can help certain signs more*

🧿Based off of people I’ve met, air risings aren’t as friendly and bubbly as you’d think they’d be when you first meet them. Even their vibe seems nervous and closed off at first; standing with arms crossed, shoulders inward, I dont know just sort of shy. Once they open up a bit more then their weird side comes out and they become more goofy and carefree. I think air signs of all placements struggle deeply with anxiety even though they are often portrayed as outgoing and quirky, which they are but a thin viel covers it. No matter what, air placements keep an open mind and I’ve always felt like I could be myself around them.

🧿Libra placements are known for disliking confrontational disputes but I’ve noticed that these are the same people to whisper nasty things under their breathe when you start to walk away from an argument... they have you whip back around like “do you have something to say?!”

🧿I’ve seen this before and imo it’s true! Signs in the 8th house rule addictions... I saw someone post that having a water sign in the 8th house could indicate addictions to liquid, more specifically; caffeine and alcohol. Being addicted to something is in other words creating a bond with it- water signs are naturally bonded with liquid so it makes sense that their prone to being addicted to them. Water signs occupying the 8th house might always drink water or have water with them. Since the 8th house also rules finances to an extent, most of their money might go to coffee, drinks, beach vacations etc. For fire signs over the 8th house, they could be addicted and/or spend a lot of money on smoking, spicy foods, or anything that gives them a rush; rollercoasters, haunted houses, skydiving or even drugs like esctacy/cocaine... anything that gives them that thrill or lights a match in their stomach. Earth signs in the 8th house may be addicted to physical things; money, work, food, looks,... things that give them value or that call on their senses and ego. They could hoard/collect items such as coins, cars, beauty products, etc., or generational items passed down... due to bonding with things that they can bulid/see/show off overtime. They are very attached to the physical because as an earth sign it feeds their ego and value, like a tree growing in soil. Money could mostly go to eating, gambling, plastic surgery, materialistic stuff. They could be addicted to buying things and selling them for a higher price. Air signs occupying the 8th house could point to spending a lot of money on or being addicted to technology or all things ‘relevant’. These individuals might be addicted to their phones/social media and the attention they get from it. These people are always posting stories throughout the day or online shopping or even just browsing different apps. They’re addicted to getting information via books, the internet, and through talking to other people... oftentimes these individuals are very good at making money through the internet (depending on other placements ofc). They may spend a lot of money on books, new gadgets, music, tattoos and puzzles. These people are addicted to all things new! They have a thirst for knowledge and experiences and will seek it out effectively. 🧿When I look at a person’s birth chart, whatever gender, I especially pay close attention to their Mars sign and house. To me, Mars represents the overall energy and vibe a person gives off and the house placement is where it’s most naturally acted out. For example ; Aries Mars in the 6th house. Aries Mars person would give off a hyper, motivated, impulsive energy. Physically this could manifest as shaking their leg while sitting, quick movements,standing/walking instead of sitting down, gives off a more to the point and carefree attitude (keep in mind all of this is affected by many other aspects and placements in a chart). Being in the 6th house, ruling day to day routine, health, how we act at work, etc., this means that the Aries Mars characteristics are more prominent during work and day to day rituals (quicker to learn, effectively performing daily tasks, gets shit done, or they could get into arguments at work easily, constantly rush around, might be stubborn about seeing a doctor/health professional, might be more prone to getting headaches at work or in general) again, depending on the rest of the chart

[katieykat513]

CLAPS HANDS

Alright every body....lesson time. I know not many will read this and it won’t reach too many ears... but I am just going to put it out there.

Sex. Porn. Smut. Masturbation. Whatever you want to call it, IS NOT A BAD THING! 

It is not something you have to partake in at any certain age in order to continue on in life. It’s not like a powerup you have to gain to go through the next door. 

No. 

Don’t force yourself to look at it! NSFW fandom creators are not forcing you to look at their work. They put it out there because they like to bring joy to others who might need it by writing and drawing about their favorite characters as adults. They tag it. So you can easily filter it out. Or just keep scrolling! 

People who attack other people on the internet because they have nothing better to do, are the real problem. These people are literally out here attacking other people because they write or draw something that they don’t like. 

Here’s an idea....and it’s coming from waaayyy left field here....but

DON’T LIKE IT. DON’T READ IT. DON’T LOOK AT IT. DON’T COMMENT ON IT!

I know...super hard to do. 

Here is a message I have to teens with their pearls and their rose glasses. Don’t let people pressure you into sex at school. Don’t think that when you turn 18 that life suddenly changes and you can’t read or write fanfiction any more. Don’t think that you can’t play video games anymore. You know why you get a job? To continue to afford the things you love. The only difference between 17 and 18 is now you get to go to big people jail when you get in trouble! It’s not all about the taxes.

Let’s be real! There are plenty of teens having sex. And parents talking to their kids about continuous safe sex is the best thing to can do. Don’t make it a one and done. Remind them. Don’t shame them. The amount of hormones coursing through their bodies is rough! But just because one person is having sex...doesn’t mean you as an individual have to. Don’t let people make you feel bad for not having sex! 

There were plenty of people that had sex before I did! Did I have sex as a teen? Yes I did. And I had not even looked at porn yet! It wasn’t until much much later in life that I decided to take a peek. I knew it was out there. I just felt I didn’t need it so I DIDN’T LOOK! It’s so fucking simple!

So don’t take those feelings and push them onto other people who are doing nothing wrong. 

I’ve seen pedophiles. They don’t openly post things about aged up characters. They keep shit hidden away. You’d never know until it’s too late. 

Now...is there NSFW art of FICTIONAL minors? Yes. But 9 times out of 10, they are commissioned pieces made by people who don’t watch those shows and they don’t have an aged up version in their head. They draw the exact faces on adult bodies. It’s a little cringe, ngl. But it doesn’t make the artist a pedophile! 

Announcing to your 1k followers to block a person because they drew an aged up version of a canonically child character....is a dick move. Calling them a pedo...is a dick move. It’s completely unnecessary! 

And this goes out to the Miraculous Ladybug fandom....AGE OF CONSENT IS 15 IN FRANCE...just so you know. And it’s ok to do an aged up AU of them. People grow up, I know...another crazy concept...but they do.

So...stop attacking my friends just because of what they write or draw! They are wonderful people!! 

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

I think about this a lot, I use facebook to keep track of like, two irl friends and local news---the amount of AI images spreading on this platform is crazy? I got into crochet recently and I've seen so many OBVIOUSLY fake images even though I haven't crocheted a single thing yet yet

People love to eat up AI images of old people with life sized handmade animals, and AI images of kids in front of their so called "art" that is clearly sourced off of a professional (not saying savants aren't a thing, but the feel good market is saturated with AI made art like this)

I know it's shocking to think "why can't they see it???" but you have to understand, if you've been taking classes for years, or even if you are a self taught artist, you've probably studied hundreds to thousands of art forms and styles--not to mention the fundamentals of art itself. Your eyes are trained to see AI inconsistencies because you know what it takes to make REAL art. The average person, is....very art dumb. Not to mention the whole instant gratification thing. Also the internet loves a feel good story which is why the above (old ladies with hidden crochet skills and savant children that no one believes in until it's posted on the internet) gets traction. It's really sad.

and that's not even opening up the can of worms of artists who naturally have "AI Styles" or whose art looks like the fakes out there. Many legitimate artists have been banned from the bigwig art websites even after providing PSD documents to show their progress, all because their art looks like the stuff AI has been trained on

Okay,that's my two cents. Sorry for non-scarecrow content, I want AI to die.

The fact that so many AI generated images have super obvious tells, like things not making sense spatially, weird repeating elements, “melting” sort of effects, misshapen body-horror-esque hands etc… and the average person can’t tell? They can’t see it? Even when pointed out? Honestly equal parts horrifying and demoralizing.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #189

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the royal hikkikoneet of Himeji Castle, Osakabehime! This giant nerd is a Lore Bard, because it’s hard to stay in your room all day and not read things, as well as a Trickery Domain Cleric to fill your castle to the brim with ghostly defenses (and run away to your kotatsu when things get scary).

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Prepare for trouble, and make it double!

Race and Background

Going by Fate’s official lore, Osakabehime is a kitsune like Tamamo. But, since Tamamo’s pretty insistent on No Doubles, O-heems here had to change her race, and so do we. So we’re making her a Hexblood to get some castle magic right off the bat. This makes Batty Fey and Humanoid, and she gets +1 Wisdom and +2 Charisma. She keeps the standard Medium size, but she still gets Darkvision, Fey Resilience against the charmed condition, Hex Magic which lets her cast Disguise Self and Hex using her Charisma. You can cast one of these spells for free each day, or by using spell slots.

She can also make Magic Tokens out of her hair (and other things, but those are gross), letting her send a message to the creature holding it. Also, while she’s within 10 miles of the token, she can enter a trance to see and hear through the token for 1 minute, after which the token is destroyed. She can make a token once per long rest, and they only last until her next long rest anyway, so don’t get excited about stockpiling them like I just did before reading that part.

Castle Guardian Spirit isn’t an official D&D background, but fortunately Mangaka is! Or at least, Guild Artisan has the same sort of ring to it. This gives Batty proficiency in Insight and Persuasion.

Ability Scores

Batty’s Wisdom should be her highest stat. Making good art requires good eyes to figure out how to improve your technique. Second best is her Charisma. She’s got that awkward underdog style going for her, despite how much she overthinks things. Her Dexterity is also pretty high. She might not move around much, but she’s an expert at hiding from responsibilities! Batty’s Intelligence is above average, it’s hard to spend that much time on the internet and not learn something. Her Constitution isn’t great, I blame staying inside all day, but we’re dumping Strength for pretty much the same reason. There’s nothing saying a NEET can’t be a gym rat, but that’s def not Batty.

Class Levels

Bard 1: Starting off as a bard gives Batty all sorts of proficiencies, like Dexterity and Charisma saves, Sleight of Hand and Performance to master her brushstrokes, History for living for so long, and Stealth to slip away from crowds. If she does end up next to people though, she can use her Bardic Inspiration to give them a d6 for one of their checks, saves, or attack rolls Charisma Bonus times per long rest. Batty can also use her Charisma to cast Spells! Minor Illusion and Silent Image will create the first soldiers in her origami army (they can’t touch people, but they can be distracting!). She also gets Feather Fall for some bat parachuting, Blade Ward to hide from physical attacks in her kotatsu dimension, Charm Person to avoid fights altogether, and Distort Value to make even a neck guard look like a proof of courage.

Cleric 1: Bouncing over to cleric real quick will give us all sorts of goodies. Since Batty is a Trickery cleric, she gets a Blessing of the Trickster, giving another creature advantage on stealth checks for an hour. Don’t you know heavy armor is uruso noisy? Keep it quiet! She also learns another set of spells (since we’re multiclassing you’ll have to use the special table to figure out how many slots you have now.) that use her Wisdom to cast and prepare them. She gets Charm Person and Disguise Self for free, which... she already had from level one... But, she also gets cantrips! Guidance and Resistance will make you a little more knowledgeable than everyone else about everything, and Thaumaturgy will help you get your spooky castle ghost thing going. You can also prepare spells like Bane to dull the senses of intruders, and Purify Food and Drink and Sanctuary to protect yourself and guests.

Bard 2: Second level bards are even better at everything since they’re Jacks of All Trades, adding half their proficiency to all skill checks. They also learn a Song of Rest, so anyone brave enough to spend a short rest in Himeji Castle will heal an extra d6 when they use hit dice. Your Magical Inspiration makes your bardic inspiration dice even better, letting your allies add the d6 to the damage or healing of a spell! Batty can also cast Speak with Animals now! Turns out she has an army of like 800 animal spirits helping out, which certainly explains all the origami.

Bard 3: As a Lore bard, Batty gets even more proficiencies, making her really good with Deception, Arcana, and Religion. I mean, she is kind of a god already. She can also turn her bardic inspiration into Cutting Words, reducing a creature’s check, attack roll, or damage by that amount instead of adding to it. She means well, but her cringey moments can get pretty uramessy. She also get Expertise in Performance and Stealth, doubling her jozu modifier. She can also cast Animal Messenger to make her first origami animal that can actually help you, delivering a message to a creature you specify in a location you’ve been before.

Bard 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Charisma for more inspiration and confidence, meaning more helpful hints and more cringey cutting words per long rest. This also makes your spells better! Speaking of, you get Prestidigitation to make real origami at will, and Phantasmal Force to make an origami horse that can really trample people. Well, kind of. It’s still an illusion, but the damage is real.

Bard 5: Fifth level bards get stronger Bardic Inspiration, their dice turning into d8s. They also become a Font of Inspiration, thanks to their inspiration dice refilling on short rests instead of long ones. You can also use third level spells now, like using a Glyph of Warding to hide Phantasmal Forces all around your castle. You can use these glyphs to create Explosive Runes for straight damage, or Spell Glyphs to store spells of the level you cast the glyph at or lower, which will target whatever activated the glyph in the first place. It takes an hour and 200 gold to cast, but it also lets you ignore concentration, so... actually this would be a great way to summon creatures. Just stick a glyph in a book, throw it at a creature’s head, boom, summons without concentration. You’re welcome.

Bard 6: Sixth level bards can waste their turn using Countercharm to give allies advantage on saves against being frightened or charmed. You already get half of that for free, so why bother. More importantly, you get Additional Magical Secrets, giving you two spells from any class. For your normal spell, grab Nondetection to prevent yourself from getting found through magic, then use magical secrets to pick up Leomund’s Tiny Hut to hide in a proper kotatsu of protection, and Conjure Animals for some slightly fleshier origami animals. We’ll get the real deal later, but this works just as well, yo-i.

Bard 7: Seventh level bards get fourth level spells, like Hallucinatory Terrain. Changing up the whole castle grounds is a good way to get people lost, and if they’re lost they’re less likely to find you.

Bard 8: Max out your Charisma with this ASI for better spells and more cringe. You can also use Greater Invisibility to keep yourself hidden, even while making more origami.

Bard 9: Your last level of bard makes your Song of Rest a d8 too, but more importantly, you also get fifth level spells, meaning you can finally cast Animate Objects to make real origami animals of variable sizes. You can create up to 10 animals this way, with medium pieces of paper counting as two, large pieces as four, and huge objects as eight. You can also upcast this spell for more objects at once. Rise, my mighty karmy!

Cleric 2: Now that we have your origarmy ready to go, we can finally dip back into cleric! Second level clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest, either Turning Undead with a wisdom save, or Invoking Duplicity to create an illusory copy of yourself for a minute. The illusion has to stay within 120 feet of you, but you can cast spells as though you were standing in its space. Perfect for when you have to fight but you want to stay in your tiny hut at the same time.

Cleric 3: Third level clerics get second level spells, like Mirror Image and Pass without Trace. Finally, you can make yourself sneaky! You also get access to a bunch of other spells that will make yourself more protected- Aid increases your and up to two other creature’s max HP for 8 hours, Protection from Poison protects you... from poison, and Zone of Truth makes sure nobody can hide their plans from you.

Cleric 4: With your bard stuff taken care of, you can use this ASI to bump up your Wisdom for stronger cleric spells. You also learn Mending. Your army is made of paper, they’re going to get torn eventually.

Cleric 5: Fifth level clerics can Destroy Undead of CR 1/2 or lower when they’re turned, and they also get third level spells, like Blink and Dispel Magic. Bringing your own magic into someone’s house is shitsurei manners, don’t you think? You can also Bestow Curses on particularly rude guests, Meld into Stone to hide away without a trace, and create Spirit Guardians to protect yourself from melee attacks.

Cleric 6: As a sixth level cleric, you can Channel Divinity twice per rest, and you can use it to put on a Cloak of Shadows, becoming invisible until the end of next turn, or until you attack or cast a spell.

Cleric 7: Seventh level clerics get fourth level spells, like Dimension Door to pop straight into your kotatsu from 500 feet away. You can also cast Polymorph to reclaim your foxy glory! Or turn into a T Rex, if you want to powergame. Your choice. You also get access to Guardians of Faith, which are like Spirit Guardians, but they don’t stick near you- perfect for when you want to avoid being in a fight entirely. You can also use an Aura of Life and/or Aura of Purity to make your hikkolife a bit easier. The former gives nearby allies resistance to necrotic damage, immunity to max HP reduction, and autoheals creatures when they start their turn with 0 hit points. Hey, another spell that would be really good to keep around in a glyph of warding! The latter prevents disease, gives creatures in it resistance against poison damage, and has advantage on saves against being blinded, charmed, deafened, frightened, paralyzed, poisoned, and stunned.

Cleric 8: Use your last ASI to max out your Wisdom for the best cleric spells possible. Your Destroy Undead grows to affect creatures of CR 1 or lower, and you also get a Divine Strike, causing all your weapon attacks to deal an extra 1d8 poison damage. I mean... no reason to turn down a free gift, right?

Cleric 9: Ninth level clerics get fifth level spells, like Dominate Person and Modify Memory to sculpt the minds of those foolish enough to enter your castle without permission. You can also use Insect Plague to create a massive swarm of tiny origami bats, dealing piercing damage to creatures stuck in them. Alternatively, use Hallow to make your castle a more liminal space, adding a bunch of effects against celestials, elementals, fey (probably should just not include that one.), fiends, and undead, preventing them from entering the area and messing with their magic and mental effects. There’s also a ton of other effects you can add, just take a look at the spell, we’re not writing them all out here.

Cleric 10: Tenth level clerics get Divine Intervention, letting you pray to your god for a roya-l get out of jail free card once a day, with a week’s break after it actually works. You have a roughly 1 in 10 chance of it working each time you use it, based on your cleric level. If it works, you can get whatever your DM thinks is appropriate- maybe a couple robots show up to help out your plan to be lazy forever? Nah, that’d be silly. You can also cast Sacred Flame this level. I was running out of good cantrips to give you, and kitsune are known for will of wisps and the like, so it’s sort of on theme.

Cleric 11: Your capstone level makes Destroy Undead affect creatures of CR 2 or lower, and you get sixth level spells! Forbiddance locks magical travel out of an area for up to a day- if you cast the spell every day for a month, it’ll last until dispelled. You can also force extraplanar creatures to take a bunch of damage every turn they’re in the area without a save, so Tamamo will finally leave you alone. You can use Word of Recall to teleport back to your kotatsu from anywhere, no restrictions. (Technically you have to pick a spot that is involved with your god, but aside from that.) Or, you can use a Heroes’ Feast to make the rest of your party stronger so you won’t feel as bad when you leave the fighting to them. This cures creatures of all disease and poison, makes them immune to poison and being frightened, gives them advantage on wisdom saves, and increases their max HP, all for 24 hours.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

Glyph of Warding lets you set up tons of traps and store spells away for later, all without using concentration. That is huge for a build whose main source of damage comes from summon spells. Not only does it let you cast more of them, it also means the ones you have up won’t disappear because you get hit.

Speaking of, it’s really easy for you to avoid combat entirely. Go invisible, hide in a tiny hut and let your duplicity do the fighting for you, throw gobs of paper at enemies then run the other way, whatever they do doesn’t matter because you won’t be around to get hit anyway!

If an enemy does try to chase you down, they’ll have to pass through your massive army of summons first-with an upcasted Animate Objects, that means they’ll be taking 18 attacks of opportunity before they even walk through them all, and that’s before factoring nonsense from your glyphs.

Cons:

You are terrible at fighting directly. You have very few spells that deal damage directly, you have barely over 100 HP, and your AC is 11 if you’re playing to character. Once somebody does make it past your paper, you’d better have a word of recall ready.

Multiclassing really hurts spellcasters. It means you don’t get 7th level or higher spells, you have to spend all your ASIs on casting modifiers to make them both good, and you don’t get the guaranteed intervention from only being a cleric.

You have a big army, but they’re still made of paper. If you go the tiny bat route, all your summons will only have 20 hp, which means one fireball will tear through all of them in a single blow.

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 6

Chapter 1 || Previous || NEXT

Elevator took her all the way to the highest floor. When she exited, the floor was back to perfect condition and several more plants were awaiting her. She promised them silently to check on them soon and went to the main office. She knocked several times on the doors, but nobody answered. Hesitantly, she pushed the doors open, but no one was in the office. After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.

“Didn’t you cause enough drama…” Lila never got a chance to end that sentence, because Mari delivered a straight one strong enough to send her flying several feet back before she came crashing down. Blood pouring from her nose.

The girl was about to launch herself at the liar and pound her into the ground when two strong arms grabbed her. She noticed the characteristic spikes on the sides of black gloves and stated to trash around. “Let me go you overgrown furry!” She screamed. “I will mix her face with the concrete until it’s nice and even!”

She tried to wiggle herself out of his grip. Most of the class surrounded Lila and were trying to help her. It only served to irate Mari more. She kicked her leg back, hitting Batman’s shin. It was finally enough to let her go. The girl fell down... right into the embrace of Chloe and Adrien who managed to get to her on time. The two blondes hugged her tightly. 

“There. It’s alright Goldie. You got her good. Rest.” The girl cooed and pressed her best friend to her chest, muffling the sobbing. Adrien was just silently there and hugged them both. When Batman tried to approach again, the boy sent him an angry glare. The warning was clear and the vigilante didn’t really need anything from the girl right now. 

After a bit, Mari fell asleep in their embrace. The stress finally caught up to her and she couldn’t hold exhaustion at bay any longer. Chloe easily picked her up and started to walk toward a taxi that was conveniently parked nearby, waiting for them. 

“What!?” Angry Alya looked from Lila who was now being cared for by a pair of paramedics. She turned to Commissioner Gordon who was discussing something with Batman. “You!” 

The policeman looked at her curiously. Alya continued her shouting. “You’re letting her go just like that? She just assaulted Lila! She might’ve ruined her modeling career! Arrest her!”

“Miss.” Gordon shook his head. “These are some of the braves men and women in Gotham, but I doubt any of them would dare to try and arrest her right now. They don’t get paid enough.”

“What?!” Several kids started to protest, but Gordon just ignored them and directed Harvey to start taking statements. He wasn’t paid enough to deal with these brats. 

--------

Bruce sighed as he exited the Batmobile. Almost immediately, he was swarmed by the rest of his family. Jason and Dick practically carried him, still in the suit, to the movie room. 

“Now, Ladies and Gents, we have some of the greatest shows for you. We call it… The Demon Trashing!”

What followed was a clip taken from monitoring in the anteroom of the CEO office in Wayne Tower. He watched as Damian, dressed in civilian clothing, and carrying a simple ninjato on his back entered the room. He walked around for a moment before knocking on the main office doors, but whatever answer he got seemed to have irritated him given the scowl that formed on his face. He walked over to the PA’s desk that stood there, but no one was here. After a short moment, one could see the elevator doors open again and a small girl in a smart outfit walked in. Damian dashed to the shadows before she had a chance to notice him. 

Bruce resisted the urge to facepalm. He could already see where this was going. 

When the girl started to walk to the desk, his son suddenly reappeared with the sword drawn. He pressed the blade to her neck. From the angle, it was impossible to see either of them expressions. The man did not expect his son to kill a civilian for trespassing, but the amount of glee on Jason’s and Dick’s faces was suggesting that his headache hadn’t really started.

The girl suddenly grabbed the blade and pushed it away. Damian, probably acting on instinct, tried to cut her, but she just walked out of the way and disarmed his son before knocking him out. There was a short skip to when Jason and Dick entered the room. The small girl was clearly very much irritated with them from the start and when she reached her limits, she used a pencil as a projectile to open the elevator doors. 

A small smirk made its way to Bruce’s face when he saw her storm past his three sons, carrying the ninjato through a tissue. The video ended with Damian waking up.

“And that’s how Drake’s new PA trashed a certain Demon Spawn. I swear, she could probably give Luthor’s bodyguard a run for her money when it comes to being a badass” Jason commented on the silent video in his typical fashion. 

“Tt. She stole my sword.” Damian huffed.

“You mean the sword she later used to stab Riddler’s man before disarming him?”

“I still consider the best part of today when she called B. an overgrown furry,” Dick said trying to hold back on laugher.

“Wait. I have a new personal assistant?” Tim asked half-awake. 

“Yeah. She was supposed to be an intern, but apparently, Sarah hired her on the spot and quit.”

“Oh… Cool.” Tim said and took a swing from his gargantuan cup. 

“Did you manage to pull the video of her taking down Riddler?” Bruce asked.

“The cameras malfunctioned before she even entered.”

“It was me,” Tim confessed. “I was still in my office when the alarm sounded. I keep a separate copy of my suit in a hidden compartment. To save time I dressed there, but I had to disable the CCTV…”

“Yeah yeah. Whatever.” Jason shut him up. “I also got the part when Damian’s eyes roll back as my new screensaver.”

“Tt. You’re lucky I don’t have my sword.”

“Don’t think you’re getting it back any time soon,” Bruce said in a stern tone and sighed. “What exactly do we know about her?”

“She is from Gotham, but she lives in Paris for some years. She said she was practicing martial arts since she was five.” Dick started

“She is also one bada…”

Jason was interrupted by Alfred, who entered the room with a plate full of cookies and tea. “A young woman just called. She asked me to forward a message to young master Damian.”

“Tt. What is it?”

“I quote. ‘Good luck getting your sword back now. Police took it as evidence. Suck it, Wayne.’ I believe the woman was young miss Chloe Bourgeoise.”

Dick, Jason, and Tim were literally rolling on the floor laughing. Bruce just facepalmed.

“No, you can’t break into the evidence room. You might jeopardize the whole investigation if you taint the evidence.” Bruce said in an exasperated tone. 

----------

It was late after midnight (or even early morning, depends on your definition) when the vigilantes returned from the patrol, only to meet Tim and Barbara working on something on Batcomputer in tandem. Whatever it was, they were completely devoted to it since neither realized they had company until Bruce made a coughing sound.

“Not now.” 

“What exactly are you doing?” The father inside Bruce resisted the urge to force-feed Tim some sleeping meds. 

“We’re doing the background check,” Barbara said while typing frantically.

“On my new personal assistant.” The boy supplied.

“oh?” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Like… from what we found she is either the worst bitch on the block or strongest badass around.”

“Langauge master Tim.” Alfred scolded him. 

“Sorry. But like seriously! There are so many contradictions.”

“Check this out.” She pulled out a scan of a letter. It was largely creased, but still perfectly readable. “Her adopted parents one day disappeared, leaving her everything they owed sans some of their clothes. It was like they packed and left.”

“You suspect a foul play?”

“I’m not sure. The investigation was a joke and so was the follow-up proceeding. The interesting part is the custody battle that followed.” 

“Jagged freaking Stone and Parisian Mayor.” Tim interrupted Babs. “It ended with a compromise that Jagged was lawfully named her uncle and Mayor became her guardian. She was the one who suggested it.”

“How can one be lawfully named someone’s uncle?”

“Apparently one can in France. Or they just made some concessions to a celebrity. Seen weirder things.” He shrugged. “She was also his designer for years now. You remember that mysterious MDC?”

“The one you used to fawn over?” Bruce asked.

“She is brilliant so sue me.” The boy huffed. “Also, it stands for Marigold Désign et Création. She runs an internet boutique where she takes commissions from both commoners and celebrities.”

“What does it have to do with anything?” 

“I’m getting to that. Gee.” 

“Maybe I will get there?” Babs tried to take over. “She’s been working part-time as a babysitter to get funds to buy materials for new clothes and received nothing but praise. She also became a class representative. A successful one at that. She also holds the national championship in U-17 Mechastrike.”

“How is that important exactly?” 

“You wanted to know everything about her B., so we are giving you everything.” Tim sassed

“Just… get to the important parts.” He shook his head. What did he do to deserve this?

“Fine. Her school records are a mess. Skipping that they wouldn’t hold to any official inspection, they straight-up contradict each other.” Tim waved his hand in some undefined gesture. “On one hand, she receives nothing but praise from the teachers, but at the same time, there are multiple bullying reports and even several assaults in here. Most of them were met with harsh punishments.” Tim opened a separate file. “Too harsh according to the school charter.”

“It didn’t help that the letter from her parents also mentioned these kinds of things.” Babs chimed in, trying to regain control of the tale. Bruce just gave an exasperated sigh. He just gave up and allowed them to solve it, mentally already cataloging the information. 

“Except! There were statements from several people that contradicted this. Especially Chloe Bourgeois. She said, ‘Puh-lease! Mari is the kindest doormat in the world. I was mean to her for years and she still welcomed me back with open arms.’ Given her track record, I’m inclined to believe it.” 

“There was also this Drama, capital ‘D’, with MDC stealing designs. Several tabloids caught the wind of it and it even led to the police investigation. Only after Jagged Stone intervened, the thing quickly shut up.”

“Now onto the juicy parts!” Babs smiled. 

“And that was what? An introduction?”

“Yup. She has a certified black belt in two different martial arts, is a master gymnast, has an IQ of over 130 and owns two separate businesses in Paris.” She quickly read. “As we mentioned, she is the honorary lawful niece of Jagged Stone, but also designed for Clara Nightingale, Nadia Chamack, worked with Gabriel Agreste, was offered an internship from Audrey Bourgeois before she became her ward. She was seen hanging out with Kagami Tsurugi, world-renowned fencer, and Luka Couffaine, the rising star under Jagged Stone’s tutelage.”

“That was fast.” Tim summarised. 

“Yeah. Also, she was adopted some nine years ago. She originally comes from Gotham.”

“Do we know her biological parents?” Bruce asked, getting serious.

“That’s where it gets juicy. When I tried to pull out her adoption files, the computer shut down to avoid detection. There is some serious encryption on it. Probably due to who her father is. We got some of it. She described her mother as ‘wearing an outfit that showed more skin than her beachwear’, so we suspect she was a prostitute.”

“Hm… It’s not unheard of. You say she was with her mother until she was eight?”

“Between seven and nine the file said.”

“Hm… Do you think she is a threat?”

“No. But I have a different question. Why didn’t the league investigate Paris’ supervillain?”

“We were made aware of him only recently, after what our satellites mistook for Poison Ivy attack,” Batman said in an irritated tone. The fact that there was a supervillain running around for close to four years completely undetected grated on his nerves. “Diana Prince has been investigating for some time now. She has it under control.”

“The only problem I see is that she is only sixteen,” Barbara pointed.

“I mean I’m barely seventeen and I ran this company for two years now. And don’t act high and mighty. You started playing Batgirl at fifteen.”

“Played?!” She screamed. 

“You wore a hoodie and carnival mask at first.”

This quickly developed into an insults contest until Bruce finally had enough. He just shook his head and left. Alfred silently followed him, carrying a plate of sandwiches. 

-----

The next morning, Mari woke up in her bed, with Chloe and her curled together in a mess of limbs and clothes. Of course, she panicked and jumped up, waking the blonde.

“Honestly, Goldie, five more minutes. I need my beauty sleep!” She murmured.

“Um… Why are we in one bed?”

“Because you fell asleep hugging me yesterday and refused to let go at any point. I swear I wanted to get a crowbar. Ridiculous!”

“Sorry…” Mari gave her a sheepish smile.

“None of that! You ruined Lila’s face in one punch. Adrien texted me that in the end she lost seven teeth and will require plastic surgery for her nose not to look like a mashed potato.”

“No…!” Her eyes widened. 

“Yup.” Chloe grinned, popping the ‘p’. 

“That’s awful! I can already imagine how much the class will hate me now! And the employees that saw this! There were cameras there!”

“Some people actually applauded you. It could be also because you called Batman an overgrown Furry though…” Chloe’s voice wandered off. Mari collapsed onto the bed, head buried in the pillows.

“Kill me…”

“Can I kill you with hugs?”

“Fine…”

When the panicking bluenette finally calmed down, Chloe got her to sit down and showed her the headlines.

Brave WE employee saves dozens of lives!

A hero without a suit!

Civilian stopped Riddler!

Personal Assistant takes down a dangerous criminal!

They were all overly positive and showed much support. Only one tried to vilify her based on Lila’s comment and her being punched, but it quoted Ladyblog as a reliable source, so it was dismissed. The majority of the comments were also positive. The ‘overgrown Furry’ was already trending too. 

Only one of the articles contained the list of names of people killed in the attack.

Ted Black - a security guard, put himself between the bullet and another employee Sigfried Osborne - a security guard, died when he tried to stop them from entering Molly Bishop - a PR specialist, called the police when she thought the guards were busy Heidi Dickson - a security guard, killed in crossfire Craig Lloyd - an HR employee, wrestled the gun from one of the henchmen before he was shot in the back. Ethel Arson - A lawyer, killed in crossfire Christian Thorn - a security guard, shot two of the riddler’s henchmen in defense of a group of hostages.

Their room had several live plants on the rail. Mari walked to them and allowed her powers to flow. Slowly, the flowers bloomed. She picked seven beautiful flowers and put them on the table.

“Mari… I’m sure they will understand if you don’t come to work today…” Chloe placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulder.

“No… No. I won’t be scared into hiding by Riddler of all people.” She said with determination and some coldness in her voice. She stood up and walked to her suitcase. From there, she gathered a different outfit. Now she would wear a red shirt, a black blazer with the Ladybug logo on her right breast, a black pencil skirt, and black leather ballet shoes (she still hated heels). But the greatest change was her hair and eyes. She let go of her twin pigtails and allowed her wavy hair to run free. It was no longer black, instead turning dark blue with purple highlights. Her eyes also changed. Her bluebell eyes also changed. The iridescent green she used to suppress was now mixed with the normal eye color, giving an entrancing effect that was hard to stop looking at.

“It’s time to rock this place.” She smiled at her best friend.

------- (Play ‘Confident’ by Demi Lovato) --------

Marigold and Chloe entered the Wayne Enterprises in full stride. Flashing her pass, she got them through control without the queue or checking, much to the shock of the class (who still had no idea Mari was now technically their boss). Adrien showed the girls thumbs up. Lila was seething, but neither Chloe nor Marigold paid her any mind and guards didn’t let her follow them and straight-up kicked her to the back of the queue. 

Mari gave a nod to the receptionist, but they didn’t slow down. Elevator was about to close, but one of the employees held it for her. Once they entered, she quickly checked her tablet and the to-do list she had for that day. First stop: PR. Chloe was going to HR to receive a new mentor after… the previous day.

When she entered the Public Relations department, Mari didn’t stop to chat with the employee that looked at her in awe. Her goal was the department’s head office and that’s where she would go. Gently knocking on the doors before entering, she pushed the doors. While she was smiling kindly, her whole posture screamed professional. 

“Hello. Mr. Drake will need the Friday press conference plan adjusted in response to what happened yesterday. There needs to be a mention of the event, as we won’t want to sound too detached. The press would tear us apart. Some gesture to show the public that we care…”

“Maybe a memory board in the lobby? And perhaps schedule Mr. Drake to visit each of the families somewhere next week?”

“I think it will be okay…” For a short moment, Mari allowed her confidence to drop, but she quickly gathered herself and made a note in her calendar. 

“If that’s all…”

“I will also need a press statement no later than by lunch.” She said quickly. “Make it a priority and forward it to me to read before you post it.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The man smiled. Mari was about to leave when he spoke again. “And thank you for yesterday. Many people owe you their lives.”

She stopped in her tracks, unable to say a word. Finally, she regained her composure. “Thank you. I… I’m coping.” 

As she left the office toward the elevator, Lila and Alya, who were interning in that department, tried to speak with her, but she didn’t even spare them a glance. Alya tried to grab her, but she was stopped by one of the older employees. As the elevator doors closed, Mari could see the girls receive a serious scolding. A grin made its way onto her face. Lila and Alya would have a really hard life for the next two months. Especially if she had anything to say about it. 

Her next stop was the security office. She entered it with a neutral expression, but it lasted only maybe five steps from the elevator. She didn’t tear up. She was a Gothamite inside. Right as one walked out of the elevator, there was a small bar, behind which a board was filled with pictures. Some looked really old, black and white or even sepia, while some others were high-quality and new. Roughly half of them were the clean pictures one would attach to a resume. The other half were profile pictures from social media. Or a photo that was taken in the forest. One was even a detailed drawing of a person. There were maybe fifty of them in total.

“It’s a reminder. Guards who lost their lives since the founding of WE” An older man said. “Silas Wayne started the tradition after he served in the Great War. You’re here for something miss?”

“Oh… Yes. The security on Friday press conference. We must increase it by about fifty percent. And make sure that only those with invites can enter.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her.

“Um…” Mari suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable. 

“Don’t worry. It wasn’t your fault.” He said in a comforting voice.

“Thank you, sir.” She allowed a weak smile to enter her face before she left. Only two more stops. 

The elevator next took her to the Legal Department. She had many things that needed to be done here. Chloe met her as soon as she exited the elevator. Mari managed to regain her professional posture and once more emanated the aura of confidence. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up, but she was determined to show that she was okay. 

“I already forwarded your requests. At first, Madame McKinsley was reluctant, but apparently, our entrance is already the top corporate gossip. Good job Mari-bear.”

“Good. Thanks, Chlo. Now get back to work before someone sees me get friendly with an intern. I have a plan.” Before they separated, Marigold let a smile ghost her face. “One more thing. You’re free to unleash the foxes of war.”

Chloe lit up at that. Her whole demeanor changed to almost beaming light. She immediately started planning. Mari left her to the devious scheming and instead went to McKinsley office. The head of the Legal Department was a middle-aged woman with short, slightly graying brown hair and no-nonsense composure.

“Miss Bourgeoise informed me of your visit. I already had several documents prepared, but I will need clarification on several things.” She offered the young PA a chair, but Mari refused with a shake of her head. She opened her tablet and started to go through the list.

“First of all, the video that caused the attack was leaked by an intern. What actions exactly can be undertaken in response?”

“There are several options. We could terminate their contract entirely, but as it’s their first offense, it could’ve been seen as too harsh. It would also require to terminate all internships.” The woman was clearly unamused by the situation. Mari just raised her eyebrow and gave her a quizzing look.

“I’m not sure who in their right mind wrote their contracts, but when I track them down they are gonna get their ass demoted to toilet cleaner. It’s one big mess.”

“Don’t I know it…” Mari deadpanned. “So, other options?”

“We can move them between departments, so having them demoted to Toilet cleaners could also work, but it’s not exactly a legal punishment. The fact that it was Riddler really threw a wrench in any legal proceeding as he is clinically insane and the video was not directly calling him out and only speaking about him. I could give you the legal mumbo-jumbo, but the gist is that they are somewhat protected.”

“What about revoking their privileges?”

“Take that to HR.” 

“Will do. Now, about the next matter.”

“It was much easier. She can’t do anything to you, not even forward the bill. You were in shock and there are several recordings showing her taunting you. If she pushes it, she will lose. You’re a public hero right now. Good job by the way.”

“I was only doing what had to be done.” Mari brushed it, doing her best to keep a professional face. 

“Sure…” It was clear that McKinsley did not believe her.

“Now about the last thing?”

“Ah. The slander. I already directed it to our French and Italian departments, but it’s slow-going. That witch made it an international case. It will definitely bite her, but we have to be patient.”

“Brilliant. Thank you for your time.” Mari left the room with a grin on her face. Now onto the HR.

As she strode through the floor, people turned their heads to look at her. In the killing outfit, she looked older than she was and the aura of confidence and professionalism made her seem like a powerful woman. They had no idea just how powerful she was, but the way she carried herself was enough to make them shake in their shoes. 

----

When the doors of the elevator opened, Juleka and Rose were waiting for her. Both looked furious. Before either got a chance to say anything though, Marigold silenced them with a murderous glare that took away their voice. She strode past them looking fabulous. Any other employee removed themselves from her path to avoid her ire. The rumors were already circulating and the fact that she took down Riddler before Batman even arrived did wonder to her image. 

“Hello. I had an appointment.” She said when she entered the head of the department office. 

“Yes. Miss Dupain-Cheng. I was told you forwarded a list of topics, but an intern lost it.”

“Was this intern from my class?” She asked in a cold voice.

“Um… Yes actually.” The woman said after checking a small post-it.

“Then it was probably sabotage.” Mari spat the words. “I asked to have a list of possible punishments in regards to the newest intern group prepared. Two of them were responsible for the leak. Sadly, as one of them is the class representative, she is quite popular.”

“Ah. Well…”

“First of all, both Alya Cesaire and Lila Rossi are to have all possible privileges revoked for breaking the rules. They leaked or were involved in the leak of video. Neither of them is to be handed anything more important than refilling a stapler or bringing someone coffee, to ensure they are no further threat to this company. They will also receive an official warning and an entry to their acts. They are also restricted to the lower floors. If possible, I want their access to electronic devices restricted. Maybe assign them a pager each so it doesn’t negatively impact their work.”

“Hm… I will see what can be done, Ma’am.” The woman replied, already going through her notes.

“Good. Onto the next business, while it pains me to do it so fast, we need to hire more security as soon as possible. But make sure to triple check their backgrounds.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And the last thing. Why was Damian Wayne allowed to bring a ninjato into the building?”

“There is actually no restriction on bringing swords ma’am. We’re trying to fix it, but we’ve been blocked at every turn even when Mr. Wayne was the CEO.”

“And whose permission is needed?” Mari allowed a small grin.

“Yours would do. Sarah was always too stuck up to even leave her desk unless forced so she didn’t care that much.”

“Consider my permission granted. Forward the paperwork to me.”

“And if Mr. Drake disagrees?”

“He can try.” She said coldly, remembering how close she came to being cut in half.

“Oh…”

“Last thing. When is the top floor scheduled for repairs?”

“It should be done already. It was made to withstand an assault from a much larger force, so we only had to replace the furniture. Following the instructions that were left, we repotted the plants into bigger and more decorative pots. As per your request, we added some more plants.”

“Thank you. Plants always calm me down.”

“I prefer cat pictures.” She pointed at the wall where a cheesy calendar with a cat giving her thumbs-up was hanged. It took all of Marigold’s willpower not to burst into laugher at the image of Chat Noir posing for such a calendar.

“Good. Thank you.” With that, she left. This time, Rose and Juleka did not try anything. They were too terrified of her. 

Elevator took her all the way to the highest floor. When she exited, the floor was back to perfect condition and several more plants were awaiting her. She promised them silently to check on them soon and went to the main office. She knocked several times on the doors, but nobody answered. Hesitantly, she pushed the doors open, but no one was in the office. After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.

----

NEXT

[shinesurge]

I’ve been holding off on making this post because I wanted to try it out myself and get settled in and make sure everything went okay, but seeing as I’ve gone ahead and updated my site and everything I thought now might be a good time to start talking about this publicly! 

If you’ve known me for more than five minutes you know I fucking hate Webtoon, like, a lot. Every aspect of it disgusts me to the core of my being, and while Webtoon is the ugliest version of them the aspects that I hate also extend to basically any comic aggregate site. I hate that they treat artists like content robots, I hate that they treat comic readers like morons who aren’t capable of engaging with complex stories, I hate that they actively try to strip away all the cool parts of indie comics by cultivating sterile and impersonal environments that discourage artistic experimentation and unique expression.

So! I hope you’ll be interested in what I have to say about this new platform that’s (hopefully) going to be out of alpha this summer. If you think you like reading comics on Webtoon, I really encourage you to check out Dillyhub once it launches. That’s the short version, but I have a LOT to say about this! So I’m putting the rest of this under a cut.

Full disclosure, I’m not getting paid or anything for this. The creative outreach at Dillyhub contacted me a few weeks ago asking if I’d be interested in having Kidd Commander be one of their launch titles when they go live this summer. I was hesitant at first, since I actively distrust anything claiming to be For Creators at this point, but they answered my pushy questions patiently and everything seemed on the up and up so I gave it a shot; I’ve been needing a mobile mirror for KC anyway. Eventually they invited me to the alpha creator discord, where they’ve been working directly with all of us artists to improve the platform, and now to be honest I’m REALLY excited for this thing to get off the ground. Nobody asked me to make this post, but since I’ve spent years whining and bitching about how other services do wrong by their creators, I thought I’d talk about this one that’s doing things right.

So, the biggest advantage this site has for creators over others in my opinion is that it. Treats us like individuals, regardless of follower count lmfao. If you’re a new person just starting out with your new webcomic, here’s what webtoon does for you:

Note: you don’t get a custom banner, you don’t even get to choose the solid color it is. That big circle icon is ALSO the image that shows up in searches, but everywhere else on the site it’s a 100x100px square, so you have to choose whether you want it to look good as a giant circle at the top of your comic’s page OR whether you want to look good in search results. Which, by the way, is the ONLY way for people to find you if you’re not partnered. And that’s it! You have no monetization options, you won’t show up on the genre pages, and when someone DOES stumble across your page it looks super unprofessional. Good Luck! 

Now here’s my Dillyhub page(s):

You don’t get a static banner and one icon, you get a whole carousel banner with as many images as you want front and center as soon as you get to the project page. You get seven (custom!) genre tags, as opposed to Webtoon’s single tag you have to pick from their list, and plenty of room to talk about your work. The episodes are even laid out better, you get a MUCH bigger preview space to work with and they’re nice and big on the bottom half of the page:

you know, like they’re actually presenting ART lmfao.

That’s already an ENORMOUS improvement, but here’s my favorite thing.

o hm that’s a lot of super cushy settings I have for every individual episode, but what’s that, Episode Type?

LIKE.

listen, i know this is probably a bit specialized if you’re not a comic maker yourself, but this is a HUGE DEAL. You can post vertically OR page by page! You can even post pages two at a time for double page spreads, or so they read like a physical comic book! AND their specs are really open, as long as the file meets the size requirement you can make it whatever shape you want. You don’t have to reformat all your shit to post here!! I posted the entire first volume of KC STRAIGHT FROM THE PRINT FILES in like half an hour!!! The episodes can also be any amount of pages, you can post a single page or an entire chapter all in one go!

So that’s just the project page for the comic, let’s see what happens when I click on my username there.

Each author gets their own unique page (which you can tack a vanity url to!) to present themselves however they want! You always have the banner at the top, but beyond that you have a ton of options. Among other incredibly useful tools that really should just be bare fucking minimum at this point, like the ability to preview your page on different devices, you start customizing your blank page with this set of widgets,

and from THERE you can customize them MORE, you can promote your patreon or your kickstarter or whatever! Having this creator space ALSO means that if you run several comics, or if you want to promote your comic AND your illustrations, you can just separate them into individual projects! Each with their own page! This is also really nice as a reader because you can subscribe to a creator but you can also just subscribe to specific projects, if you don’t want to get ALL of their stuff in your inbox. It’s so good y’all hh.

Once again, all of this functionality is just THERE as soon as you make your account. You don’t need to be “partnered” or whatever the fuck, you don’t need to meet a certain follower threshold to unlock the ability to operate normally. You get your own creator space to present yourself how you prefer, you get pages for all your projects, you can even set up monetization options (and change them for individual pages IN a project) right from the start.

ok ok let’s compare this to my webtoon page

oh that’s right webtoon just puts your greyed out name at the bottom of each comic and that’s it because human beings don’t make this stuff, my bad lol anyway

Other fun shit that Dillyhub does that makes me feel like they’re people who have actually consumed or made comics on the internet at some point in their lives:

-When you log into the “studio” space, you’re in your creator account. When you log OUT of the studio space, it’s like you swap to a “reader” account, where you can access your pull list and comment on things with a different name and profile icon. Again, maybe only cool if you’re a creator, but if you ARE then you know exactly why this is incredibly useful lmao

-You can set up “hidden” projects, so if you only want certain things to be accessible by certain people or to not show up in searches that’s an option! You have SO much control here it’s great.

-The comment section has moderation options GODDD. You also have a real comment space, you know, so it actually encourages building a community (and a rapport with your community, if you like), and you also can just turn comments off entirely if you want! I haven’t used it much yet, obviously, but it’s been made very clear in the discord that artists want better control over their comment sections and the devs have it on their priority list.

-Absolutely every step of customization gives you a preview before it’s live, so you can easily see what these images you’re posting in different places are going to look like before you beam them to your followers’ inboxes. This includes individual episodes!

-This was sort of in one of the screenshots but it’s important so I’m saying it here too: the option to mark individual episodes as mature or with content warnings, rather than having to mark an entire comic as Mature Spooky Scary Content because of one or two pages getting a bit hairy.

This site is only in alpha right now, and it’s invite-only until they get to beta (for creators; anyone can make a reader account! but they haven’t set up a way to browse comics without direct links yet so) but honest to god it’s already blowing every other site I’ve used clean out of the water. And the staff has been really kind and responsive to us proposing fixes or changes! I will always defend individual websites as being the best option for an indie comic, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere and we NEED something that isn’t Tumblr or Webtoon to fill this role; this site feels a lot more like a symbiotic relationship than any of the other staples available for new creators right now. If you’re a comic reader and you want to see your favorite comics on Dillyhub I’d suggest keeping an eye on this site and once it’s live start poking them to look into it, and if you’re a creator follow their social media and hop in when they open up for anybody to join. I would LOVE to see this site take off as a viable option for hosting and reading comics.

Thanks for reading all this! I haven’t quite finished setting up yet, but if you want to poke around a project/creator page for yourself mine is here have at it. As things progress I’m sure I’ll have more to say, but since I’m usually so aggressively negative about places like this I just wanted to give some credit where it was due. fucking finally.

[bosspigeon]

maybe they’ll leave you alone, but not me

Pairing: Gen, with Tina Poname & Male Detective Friendship Word Count: 2187 Summary: Tina Poname’s the new kid in a sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere, and is learning the hard way that making new friends in a place like Wayhaven is easier said than done. Luckily, she’s got a can-do attitude and a forceful personality to help her befriend even the surliest of loners.

I just think Tina’s such a good character, and I loved trying to write from her point of view, and I love thinking about her friendship with the Detective. Especially with my boy, Arlo. I also read a bunch of articles trying to put together his infodump on the Satanic Panic fhdasjhgjskahg. Title, of course, taken from “Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance. (I like to think I’m Funny)

Tina takes her lunch in the courtyard.

It’s overcast outside, looking like it might rain later, but the courtyard is nice enough, landscaped with flowering plants and rustic stone pathways, though it is kind of small. She’d rather sit inside, just in case it does start pouring, but every table in the cafeteria was full, and the ones that weren’t very quickly became full when she walked past with her lunch bag. She’s learned quickly that small towns like Wayhaven tend to be pretty… insular.

She’s trying not to let it get her down. She’s the new kid, and with time other students will warm up to her, but for now she feels like she’s the ugly duckling set adrift in a little pond, and all the other ducklings think she has the plague or something. The metaphor gets away from her a bit, but her head’s been a bit of a jumble since the last move. But that’s leading towards things she’d rather not think about, so she doesn’t. Simple as that.

Instead she looks around her, taking in the very pretty little courtyard, even if it’s washed in the moody tones of the grey sky overhead, made more moody still by the shade of a tall, gnarled old ash tree in the center. There are a few wooden picnic tables scattered about, all of them empty.

All of them but one.

Tina almost doesn’t see him at first. He’s hunched over at a table directly under the ash tree, his back to her. His long black hair hangs almost to the bottom of his shoulder blades in loose waves, and all she can think is that he’s never seen a boy with hair so pretty before. Every time she sees a boy with long hair, it’s always a frizzy mess, and whenever she brings up that they really shouldn’t use all-in-one shampoo, they get all annoyed with her.

She makes the decision to flounce right over, rounds the table, and wiggles into the bench across from him. “Your hair’s so pretty!” she chirps by way of greeting, unzipping her lunch bag and beaming at him. He looks up at her, and she’s a bit stricken when she sees his face properly. His dark brows are bold slashes scrunching over pale grey eyes lined in smeary black makeup that streaks down his freckled cheeks. He’s got a square jaw and a strong nose, but he still leans more into pretty territory than handsome, and she’s beginning to figure out that the uniform guidelines in the student handbook are taken as more suggestions than law, given that his lip, nose, and ears are pierced.

He doesn’t respond, squinting at her, his mouth twisting into a frown.

“I’m Tina!” she offers cheerily. “I like your makeup!”

He frowns harder, almost snarling, with a bit of teeth showing, like he’s hoping to scare her away. Well, Tina Poname isn’t so easy to scare, and she’s determined not to spend lunch alone. She just smiles right back and starts rooting through her lunch bag, pulling out the neatly packed containers of healthy fruit and veggies and hard boiled eggs to find the yogurt-covered pretzels hidden at the bottom. She crunches on one while she eyes her new tablemate, who seems to have resigned himself to her delightful company and has turned his attention back to a notebook he’s doodling in while absently eating something she thinks is a kind of pretty little spring roll. It looks really good, and she’s a bit jealous.

He staunchly ignores her eyes on him, shifting a bit and tossing the hair hanging in his face over one shoulder, so she can properly see the black enamel inverted cross dangling from his ear. Without thinking, she leans across the table and flicks it.

He flinches away from her and glowers with such ire she’s surprised her clothes aren’t smouldering. She smiles sheepishly, but brushes off the surprise and barrels on. “I can’t imagine you’re too popular wearing those in a quiet little town like this,” she chimes in a teasing sing-song. “Wonder how many old die-hard religious types burst into flames at the sight of you?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes so hard it gives Tina a headache. But she’s also more than a little pleased she’s gotten a reaction out of him.

She leans into it, figuring she’s found her in. “So, are you a Satanist or what? It’s cool if you are! Just think it must be hell in this place.” She can’t help but cackle at her own joke, slapping the tabletop and wheezing. When she recovers enough to notice, she catches him eyeballing her like he can’t quite figure out exactly what’s wrong with her. It’s a look she knows pretty well at this point.

“I’m not an anything,” he sighs, tapping his fingers on the wooden tabletop. His nails are painted black, but they’re chipping at the tips, and he’s wearing a few really cool rings, a couple of which looks like they might be antiques. “Besides that, the whole inverted cross being a symbol of Satanism is bullshit.” His voice is pretty deep, but not nearly as deep as she expected it to be, and softer besides, with a light, lilting burr to it. Regardless, Tina’s delighted to have gotten anything more than grunts and glares from him at all. She leans forward, crunching another pretzel. “Wait, really? What’s it mean, then?”

“It’s the cross of Saint Peter,” he almost bursts out, and then pinches his lips shut, like even he’s surprised he said anything. He looks at her warily, but she just waves at him to go on. He hesitates for another moment, before he continues haltingly, “When Peter the Apostle was supposedly executed under Nero, he’s said to have requested he be crucified upside-down, because he felt he wasn’t worthy to die the way Jesus did.” His broad, tight shoulders are loosening bit by bit the more he talks. “It’s a symbol of humility. It’s even used in the design for the papal cross, because the Pope is supposed to be the successor of Peter. And because of its mistaken associations with Satanism, now people like to claim the Pope is the antichrist.”

He rolls his eyes again and picks up another spring roll, gesturing at her with it before taking a bite and continuing while he chews. “I’m not sure exactly when people decided turning the cross upside-down suddenly makes it evil, but it can probably be traced back to the whole Satanic Panic debacle that kicked up in the 70s through the 90s. Anton LaVey—fuck that guy, by the way—published The Satanic Bible in ‘69, but most of it was pretty much plagiarized from a lot of other authors who philosophized about self-actualization and whatnot, including Ayn Rand—fuck her too—and then The Exorcist movie came out, and those things combined with the whole Manson cult thing earlier in the 60s and kicked off this sort of pop culture fascination with the occult and macabre. A lot of metal bands and other counter-culture music artists started using them in album art along with other bastardized religious imagery, and it turned into a whole thing with religious pearl-clutchers.”

Tina is astounded. Not just by the subject of the conversation (which is really cool, in kind of a weird way?) but with the way the boy  turns into a completely different person in the blink of an eye. Just a few minutes ago, he was all dour and moody and mean, looking as if he was a second away from biting her head off, and in the space of a few seconds, he’s morphed into someone totally different. His eyes are brighter and more expressive, he’s talking with his hands, and even the kind of monotone voice she’d heard from him before has changed. “Wow,” she says with no small amount of awe.

He seems to regain himself when she speaks, as if he’d forgotten he was talking to another person entirely. She watches him shrink, hunching his shoulders and looking down at the table, scooping up his pen and viciously scribbling a little spiral into the top corner of his notebook.

“No, seriously!” she blurts, standing up and bracing both hands on the table so she can lean into his space. “That’s really cool! How do you know all that?”

He gives her that same wary, hunted look from earlier, and she can’t help but pout. She wants to see what she saw just a second ago, when he looked like he was excited to talk about something. “Just stuff I picked up a while ago, and thought it was cool, I guess.” He shrugs and looks away, tugging at the spiked chain around his neck partially hidden under the crooked collar of his uniform shirt. “There’s this bookstore a couple towns over that kind of specializes in this stuff.” He lifts his hands and wiggles his fingers, mouth cocking in a wry almost-smile. “Plus, there’s always the magic of the internet.”

She laughs brightly, and it takes every ounce of her meager self-restraint not to reach out and try to physically drag that other boy out of him. “Oh, that sounds fun! We should go together sometime!”

He blinks at her, like she’s hit him over the head with her lunch bag. “Wh… what?”

She leans forward harder, until she’s essentially standing on her tip-toes and bouncing. “We should hang out! I’m sure if I ask really nice, my stepmom will drive us out there. It’ll be great!”

He keeps staring at her. She bounces a bit faster, hoping he doesn’t notice the pimple she couldn’t quite cover with foundation before she had to leave this morning. And if he does, she hopes he doesn’t say anything about it, because she doesn’t think trying to fight him will ingratiate her to him overmuch.

“I’ll buy lunch and everything,” she wheedles.

“I…” He looks away, eyebrows all scrunched again, but she can see him wavering. She wants to punch the air. Never doubt Tina Poname! “I guess? But why?”

Her smile falls a little at the genuine confusion in his voice, the way he’s not looking at her anymore, even to glare, the way he’s twisting one of his rings around his finger and almost hiding behind his thick, dark hair. She tilts her head and blinks at him. “Because I think you’re cool? Besides that, this town is kinda weird about new people? And you’re the only person who didn’t put a bag or book on every available seat when I walked by.”

“Mostly because I didn’t see you coming,” he mutters under his breath, and she barks out a laugh.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve ambushed potential friends,” she giggles. “Hasn’t failed me yet. Except when it has, but I don’t count those.”

He finally looks at her again, still kind of hidden behind a curtain of hair, but she thinks he’s actually smiling at her. He starts to open his mouth to say something, but flinches instead when the shrill ring of the bell indicating the end of lunch interrupts him. He swears under his breath and starts to gather up his things, and Tina starts shoveling pretzels into her mouth while pushing her untouched plastic containers back into her bag. She’s going to regret eating nothing but pretzels later, but at least they’re more filling than melon or carrot sticks.

“Hey wait!” she exclaims through a mouthful of pretzels as he begins to stand, almost tripping over the bench to block him in before he can leave. She’s staggered, suddenly, when he rises up to his full height and she’s looking very up at him. She’s been taller than most boys all her life, so this is a bit bizarre. He looks down at her with his brows raised, tucking his notebook into a satchel covered in patches and pins. “Wow, you’re tall,” she says astutely, swallowing her pretzels.

“Uh… yeah, I am,” he responds.

She shakes off her shock and backs up enough to let him out of his side of the table, but she blocks his path to the door still. Though she’s not sure she could stop him from going anywhere if he really wanted to get past her, with those long legs of his. “I forgot to ask! What’s your name?”

He hesitates again before he quietly says, “Arlo.”

She shoves a hand out at him, “Tina Poname, at your service!”

He grants her a shake with his big, ring-laden hand, obviously bemused, but he’s doing that maybe-smile again, so she thinks she’s done pretty well here. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.” He turns and walks a few long steps away, then pauses and turns back towards her, waiting for her scamper to his side.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” she says a little breathlessly, swinging her bag and turning to him with a sly little smile “since you’re the local here, what teachers will let me get away with eating in class?”

[theseathatsparkles]

On Bugs

so for creative writing class we were told to imitate Amy Dillard’s writing style. This is the essay on bugs that I ended up making. Not Bleach, I know, but I thought someone might enjoy it. 

This took so long to write oh my god ;-;

also, I am fully aware that not all insects are bugs, and that spiders aren’t either of the two, but. bug is much more fun to say.

Word count - 1500 on the dot

@despairforme THE BUG ESSAY. IT’S HERE. @onenicebugperday you inspired me to write a four page essay about bugs i hope you’re happy

When I was in third grade, I dropped a dandelion down the back of my classmate’s shirt. She was upset, having thought the rather inconspicuous dandelion was a daddy long-legs spider. She’d screamed, slapped me on the chest in an attempt to escape her arachnid harasser, and had decided to wage war against me for the rest of our time together in school.

I never was afraid of spiders the way she was. Spiders and snakes and all sorts of bugs, so long as I could be assured they weren't poisonous, had always held a special place in my heart - and, more often than not, my hand. Growing up in woody, wet Germany gave me a healthy dosage of ladybugs, crickets, and snails at a young age, and I never looked at a bug with anything other than fascination. 

It’s the middle of winter, now. There aren’t many bugs around. Forty-two little silhouettes in the light above my desk, but none of them move, empty exoskeletons like shells. They’re probably dry, and if I touched one I’m sure it would crumble under my fingers. There seem to be more of them every time I look up; it’s the middle of winter, so the warmth of the indoors must be especially tantalizing. Right now, there isn’t any wind outside, but the world seems to be painted in shades of grey. Even looking outside makes you feel cold, and the drifts of iced-over snow outside of the window just emphasize this.

I have mixed feelings about winter. I love the snow, love having an excuse to stay inside wrapped in blankets on the days I don’t have school. I love that there aren’t mosquitoes to follow me around - I must taste good to them, since they always seem to swarm me. But the lack of the bugs I do like - spiders, caterpillars, grasshoppers, even the jeweled dragonflies that swarm our canoes in summer - makes winter feel especially harsh. 

When I’m feeling more grey than usual, I turn to the internet to soothe me. My computer has a tab open - one nice bug per day. The third picture that appears on image search is a gorgeous skeleton leaf moth, the row under that containing a domino cuckoo bee. I smile, looking at the pictures.  A photo of a hissing cockroach wearing a tiny paper party hat jumps out at me, curled around a leaf. I click on the picture, save it to my gmail by emailing it to myself. I’ll take some time to admire them later.

The bigger the bug the better, of course. Small bugs are hard to track, and the idea of one getting somewhere without me knowing about it gives me chills. That’s probably why I hate ants; they swarm up your legs and into your shoes and socks and it takes far too long to extract them all, and you feel phantom itches on your body for the next day or so. 

The fear of ants is called myrmecophobia, and often goes hand-in-hand with entomophobia - the fear of insects. When I was young - still in Elementary school, at a time before my decision to quit soccer - I’d practice with my mom in the field a bit southeast of the elementary school tucked at the base of the mountain pass. The playground had been north of us. I always wanted to go back to the playground. The whole complex had been a good half hour’s drive from my house, so we didn’t go there often, but it had an excellent jungle gym and some new swings. It got hot easily, out there under the sun; if I didn’t bring water, the ninety-degree weather would feel twenty degrees hotter, the sort of heat that makes you lightheaded and grumpy. 

But my mom had told me to play soccer, and she wasn’t the sort of person who you could say no to easily. I tried, of course, in futile attempts that would end with me in tears and my mom seething, but always ended up on that field, kicking the ball back and forth as my mom chastised me for skipping to the goal. Skipping, apparently, was slower than running.

 I’d hated soccer. 

It was one of those days that solidified my fear of ants. Wyoming doesn’t have fire ants or most other nasty biting bugs, so I was never in real danger, but that didn’t stop the whole experience from being traumatic. My mom, of course, had laughed about it later; it seems to be a habit of adults to take the irrational fears of children lightly. The ants crawling up my leg had probably been just as afraid of me as I was of them, but knowing that didn’t help any. Adults will tell you that the shark that bit off your arm was just as afraid of you as you were of it, but that doesn’t change the fact that your arm’s gone. 

I’d been unlucky enough to step right in an ant nest, the sort that stays hidden by the short grass until something, or someone, disturbs it. It hadn’t looked different from the regular ground from my five feet, but the moment I felt a tickle on my leg, I knew. 

I’d screamed. I think anyone would have screamed when confronted with one of their worst fears, so I never was ashamed of my reaction, even if I’d hated the exasperation and faint amusement on my mom’s face. The ants had come right off, lady fortune smiling on me that day, and I hadn’t found any tiny ant corpses in my shoes when I took them off that afternoon - a rarity; ants always seem to turn up in unexpected places post-encounter. I’d been paranoid, though, and had hopped around on one foot until I was a safe distance from the nest before shoving my hands down my socks to search for any lone ants. There were none.

I refused to resume play until I was positive there were no ants on me, of course. Even when we started the game again I was wary, taking light steps and watching the ground like a hawk for any sign of another insect. It had taken the fun out of the game pretty quickly, and we went home soon after.

The internet goes out for a moment, and the photo of the mantis I’m looking at shifts to a grey screen. I frown, take a second to stand up and stretch. My legs and shoulders are especially sore. By the time I sit down again, my picture has loaded again, and I scroll to the left to see a swallowtail butterfly looking out of the screen at me. They have yellow fur around their eyes and antennae, and look vaguely curious. This picture also goes to my saved folder to look at later, and I keep scrolling.

When I was in second grade, we studied bugs in science class. Not extensively; there’s only so much work you can get done as a scatterbrained second grader, and bugs weren’t on the top of my list of priorities. But we studied them, and after a few weeks our teacher imported seven Madagascar hissing cockroaches to be our class pets.

Nobody in my class was afraid of them; I think we were too young to be afraid of something as hideously cute as those little insects. They remind me of pugs now, disgusting in the sort of way that makes you want to coo over them. We’d kept them in a little glass terrarium in the back of the classroom, and took them out during lunch break and sometimes to sketch them during art. Our teacher had told us how to tell the males and females apart, but the information had gone straight in ear and out the other, like water through a sieve. There are two things I can remember about them now: first, that they would shed their skins sometimes and we’d have to clean out their terrarium; second, that if you poked their heads, they’d hiss.

The second thing was the most important to my little second-grade brain. My classmates and I took great satisfaction in poking the cockroaches and watching them puff up and make little hissing sounds like air coming out of a tire. They’d always make their funny wheezing sound, and we’d sit there for minutes on end - the longest amount of time our young minds could stay on track for - and tap them, giggling uncontrollably as they got progressively more frustrated.

I like bugs. I’m no entomologist, I would never spend my days in the wild watching them through magnifying glasses. But I still like them. Their colors remind me of spring and summer, and I love their size - perfect to pick up and put on a fingertip. They’re much more simple than people, never worried about money or jobs or politics. They have no worries, no fears.

I would love to be a bug.

[shorkbrian]

I dont usually send in things to anyone, but I felt like I had to send this because I love your account so much. I get so excited when I see that you posted and all your writing are always soooooo good! Your new kiri fic was amazing btw. I was also wondering if there was gonna be anymore creepy sero cause that shit was gooood. Thanks and keep up the good work :) x

Don’t mind me I’m over here just SAWBING

                                            A HELPING HAND

Prelude - I saw some fan art of Sero with a skateboard and I have decided that is the only criticism I will accept about his canon character. Lil tape elbow child totally has the skateboard & stoner vibe. My interpretation of Sero does a horrible thing by talking reader into touching him. Don’t do that. Reader is obviously uncomfortable and he completely ignores that. That’s creepy. He tries to pass off his actions as ‘normal’, which is also creepy. He threatens to slander reader for not doing what he wants them to do, which is maybe the biggest creepy. Sero is not a good dude here.

Prompt - Right at the top bby 

Pairing -  Sero Hanta X Reader

Warnings - Coercion, dub-con. NSFW. Non-con.

Music - https://youtu.be/rY8H-vztguQ

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sero tugged at your wrist excitedly, leading you towards his dorm. He had sprung on you the second you got out of the locker rooms after training. Luckily it was your last class of the day, so Sero wasn’t making you miss school. He would do that often, tugging you away from your friends to show you a new video or gifset he had found.

You hadn’t been in his room before, but it was no big surprise. It was a regular bedroom, dark covers on his bed, posters on the wall. A skateboard rested in the corner, and you noticed a humidifier on his otherwise-bare desk. A skateboard? Sure. But you had never pegged him as the type to own - or even know - what a humidifier was. Did he have asthma? Probably had something to do with the amount of weed he smoked. You could detect a faint trace of it in the air, skunky-smelling, making your face twist with each breath.

Sero was excited, his movements jerky and fast as he let go of your wrist, moving to shuffle around the blankets on his bed as he searched for whatever it is he wanted to show you. When he had accosted you, he had snatched your wrist, pulling you along as he explained that there was something he wanted to show you. You hoped it wasn’t anything weird. You didn’t exactly like it when the black-haired boy showed you the lewd things he found on the internet, but Sero never seemed to pick up on your discomfort. But this was what friends did, so you guessed it was fine.

With a cheery “Aha!” Sero pulled his laptop out from amid the covers, turning to show you with a grin on his face. He sat on the bed, patting the space beside him to indicate where he wanted you to be. 

“Are we watching a movie?”

That’d be fun. You had been wanting to see the new John Wick movie, but none of the girls had wanted to go with you. Maybe Sero had heard you complaining and pirated the movie for you. He was nice like that.

Sero shrugged, squishing closer to you as you sat down. “Something like that.” 

He scooted back, and you gasped as tape wrapped around your waist, dragging you along the bed until you were seated beside him, back against the wall, pressed against his side. 

“Ah, didn’t mean to scare you man! Thought this would just be more comfortable.”

The male grinned at you, his teeth bared in a leering smile as he flipped open the laptop, booting it up. You shrugged, attention drawn to the site that was already plastered across the screen, still there from the last time he had used his laptop.

Pornhub.

Of course.

Irritation bubbled up within you. This had been going on for months now, Sero taking you aside to show you inappropriate things, ask you what you thought of them. You never knew what to say, blushing and stammering at the naked bodies splayed across the screen.

Enough was enough. You needed to stand up for yourself.

“Jeez, seriously Sero??!”

“What?”

“This is too far! I dont like doing this, it’s weird and it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

Sero’s shocked face collapsed as he did, sniggering at your vexed expression.

“Oh my god, (Y/N) are you PMS’ing?”

Would it be bad if you slapped him? You settled for scoffing, moving to scoot off the bed.

“That’s it, I’m leaving. You’re being gross Sero.”

“Wait, aww, C’mon!”

Tape wrapped around your waist again, pulling you back to your previous position.

“SERO! Stop-“

He leaned against your arm, giving you a sly smirk.

“(Y/N), I’m just trying to help you relieve some stress! Having outbursts like this can’t be good for you. You just need to relax.”

Sero winked at you before pulling away, turning back to his laptop and tapping away.  You spluttered, angry and confused.

“Stress relief? How is this relaxing?? I don’t want to watch two people bone, especially while I’m sitting next to my friend.”

You frowned at him, but Sero seemed unperturbed.

“You don’t masturbate after? Wow, no wonder you’re so cranky all the time.”

“You show me during lunch!!!!! What do you expect, that I’ll drop my pants right there and go after it?!?”

Sero stopped typing, turning to look at you.

“Well, If exhibitionism is your thing, sure. Personally I just go jack off in the bathroom, but you do you.”

You turned red at his blatant admission, afraid to even ask what “exhibitionism”  was. Sero was entirely comfortable with sex and the like, but you were a bit more reserved. 

Turning the laptop so the both of you could easily see, Sero turned your attention to the screen. You were so irritated, so confused and exasperated and bewildered at his behavior, at the casual way he talked about this sort of thing. Noticing your squirming, picking at the tape around your waist, Sero sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“(Y/N), I’m trying to help you. I want you to  be comfortable around this sort of thing. Denki and I do this all the time - if it makes you feel better I can text him and he can watch too?”

“NO!-“ You covered your face with your hands. ‘I just…… I don’t know….. guess I’m embarrassed….”

It was awkward sitting here with Sero, you couldn’t even imagine how weird it would be for Denki to join the two of you.

Sero rubbed your shoulder soothingly, giving you a reassuring smile.

“It’s fine, I remember being weirded out by all this stuff before I knew what it was. Lucky for you that I’m here.”

He started the video

----

You cringed at the fake moans coming from the laptop speakers, face hot and flushed as Sero kept making commentary and asking you questions to keep your attention on the video. He had already played a few, insisting you stay until he found one to “fit the mood”. You don’t know why you had agreed. Maybe because the videos had sparked a tiny flame in your stomach, making you subtly shift your thighs as you tried to alleviate the throbbing in between your legs. Maybe because the tape was still wrapped around your waist. 

“Hey, I don’t mind if you feel like touching yourself.”

“What!?!?!”

You gaped at Sero in shock, trying to process what he just said. He had seen you, noticed you rubbing your thighs together. You wanted to die from embarrassment.  You would never dream of touching yourself like that that in front of your friend; even getting caught clenching your thighs was humiliating. it was too awkward and he might think you’re weird and-

“Here, I’ll help.”

A hand thumbed at the waistband of your shorts, fingers barely dipping past before you were shoving at Sero, panicked.

“No! No it’s okay! Please don’t!”

The male retracted his hands, holding them both up in defeat as he chuckled.

“Yo, no worries man. Just thought I’d try and make you feel good.”

That was nice of him, but no. Your lower parts already had a tingly sense to them, a pleasurable throbbing that made you bite your lip. You ached to touch yourself, fondle your clit and pinch at it until you came, follow Sero’s advice and relieve some stress. But you could do that later, back in your own room. It felt too weird to do that in front of Sero.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the black haired male thumbing at the button of his jeans, unzipping them, sliding them off his hips. A throaty groan snapped you back to the present, and you let out a nervous “Oh” at the sight that greeted you.

Sero was palming himself over his boxers, a noticeable bulge present. They were damp in one spot, wet enough that they stuck to the head of his cock, hidden every few seconds as he rubbed his fingers over the bulge. 

This was even more awkward.

You felt like you should leave, and you wanted to, but Sero’s voice stopped you before you could even begin moving off the bed or picking at the tape that held you.

“Wait! Iit’s just about to get good, look.”

Your eyes returned to the laptop screen, just in time to see the man slip his dick inside the wet opening of his female partner. 

You felt strangely uneasy, your ears burning. Sero had never gone this far before when he was showing you things-

“(Y/N), can you-shit- can you c’mere?” There was a look in his eye, calculating, watching you tremble as you tried to decide whether to obey or not. You didn’t like this, didn’t feel comfortable. This felt too intimate for two friends. You opened your mouth to speak as you moved to scramble off the bed, tell Sero that you were tired and you were going to go rest, but he cut you off before you could speak.

“C’mon, don’t be mean. I was going tome you feel good before you turned chicken earlier…. You aren’t gonna even try to return the favor?”

“Sero I-“

He clicked his tongue, recognizing your tone of voice. It was the one you used to get away, to escape whenever he would talk about sex, to make excuses when he offered to teach you how to kiss. He picked up his phone, simultaneously pausing the video.

“What are you doing?”

Your tone had switched, now scared and shaky as he began tapping at his phone.  He didn’t even look up as he answered, palm still slipping up and down his clothed length.

“I’m texting the boy’s group chat. They get how frustrating it is when girls pretend like it’s a big deal.” Black eyes met yours as Sero glanced up at you, voice low and dangerous. “Especially when they act like horny little sluts, trying to get themselves off first and then leave you hanging.”

You didn’t like this.

That’s not what had happened.

“Anways-“ Tone chipper again, Sero flicked his eyes back to his phone. “The boys’ll understand; we vent about bitchy girls all the time, helps us feel better about getting denied yanno?”

You weren’t a bitch. You weren’t a horny slut either. Maybe you were just making too big of a deal about it? You clenched your fists.

You slowly crawled back over to Sero, and the male lowered his phone as you did so.

“I-I just.... I’ve never….. ‘M sorry.”

A hand came up to pat your head, and he pressed play on the video again. “It’s okay.” he grabbed your hand as you settled down beside him again, stomach doing flips. “Make me feel good?”

You hesitated, pulling against his grip as he tried to lower your hand to his crotch. Sero quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s just a hand job, stop freaking out over it. It’s not even sex.”

You cringed at his choice of words, wanting to recoil and run out of his room, wash your hands and scrub your ears with soap. This all felt wrong.  But if it wasn’t sex? Plus, you didn’t want Sero laughing with his friends about how much of a slut you were, what a bitch you had been for leading him on.   You let him guide your hand to his lap, and he pulled down his boxers.

“See? Nothing to be scared of. I’ll talk you through it.”

You didn’t like looking between his legs, averting your eyes to the porn playing on the laptop. You flinched when you touched him too, your hands meeting warm flesh. He brought your hand up to his mouth, and to your surprise, spat into it before he guided it back down. This felt disgusting and slimy and gros- Your thoughts were interrupted by his low moan when his hand wrapped yours around his shaft.

“Oh, that feels good.”

You didn’t know what to say. His hand covered yours as he guided you into pumping along the length, jerking himself off with your hand in slow motions.

“Maybe when I’m done, you might be in the mood for me to make you feel good too.”

You wondered if the nausea bubbling up in your stomach was normal.

[romanceforransom]

There was a writer!sander fic that i started a little while ago but didn’t know where to go with it. So, I decided to post it here 🤷‍♀️

I might continue it...? idk. but let me know what you think :) 

I ran into my local bookshop, the bell notifying my entrance as I swung open the heavy wooden door.

I had made sure to set my alarm extra early for that morning, giving myself enough time to get there before I had to make my way to work. There was a book that I had been waiting what felt like years for, and I wanted to pick it up as soon as humanly possible.

“Has it come?” I asked excitedly, rushing over to the front desk and locking eyes with an amused Zoë

She was used to my erratic behaviour by now, becoming desensitised to my hyperactive persona that I don whenever a new book comes out.

Not that I do it with every book. Of course, I love most things that come out, burying my nose in anything that I possibly can. But nothing gets me quite as excited as the books by Earthling Oddity.

Nobody knew this unknown author’s real name, or what they looked like. The air of mystery obviously created a lot of hype, gaining them a lot of followers trying to crack the code and reveal the hidden identity. What really made them popular, though, was the magical way they created stories.

I was always completely enraptured by the words written on the pages. Becoming engrossed in the fictional world they created and riding out the waves of emotions that came with the storylines.

They had come out with a new book recently, a new addition to one of their series, and I had been patiently (except not really. Unless pacing up and down the flat and checking my phone constantly for updates was considered as being patient) for it to be delivered to my bookstore.

“It’s here” Zoë replied, sounding amused “I reserved one for you, even though I knew you would be the first one in here today”

She reached underneath the desk and produced the long-awaited book

I stared at it in awe, admiring the bright colours and detailed art on the front cover.

“Wow” I breathed out, smiling

“You looking forward to reading it?”

I tore my eyes away from the book and looked up at her, squinting my eyes slightly “Seriously? I have been counting down the days for this book! Of course, I’m looking forward to finally being one step closer to unravelling the mystery that lies between the pages…”

She chuckled as I lifted my hand to tenderly stroke the front cover “Should I leave you two alone?”

“No, that’s ok” I said, picking it up and placing it gently in my backpack “I have to get going anyway”

“Ok, well keep me updated on it!”

I walked backward towards the door, grinning “Hourly updates are a given”

***

“Why are you carrying your bag so carefully?” Jana asked me curiously as I got to work

I had placed it gently on the ground in the back room with my coat, not wanting to damage the valuable contents lying inside of it.

“Seriously Jana? It’s got the book that I’ve been waiting months for”

Realisation washed over her face. I had been talking her ear off about it for a number of shifts. The amount of information she had actually been listening to and retaining would forever be a mystery, but she let me talk all the time without much judgement so that was the main thing.

“Aah ok, that makes more sense”

I pulled my apron over my head “What did you think was in there?”

She shrugged as she went back to stacking food in the display case “Judging by the way you were handling it, I thought for sure there was a bomb in there”

I shook my head at her amusedly “So your co-worker has a bomb, and you don’t do a thing to stop it? The least you could have done was taken my bag”

“We have a full shift ahead of us, Robbe” she deadpanned “Excuse me for not having much pep right now. I want to move as little as possible and retain the small amount of energy I have stored. Wrestling a bomb from you would probably take everything I had”

“Oh, come on. Shifts here aren’t that bad”

She raised her eyebrows at me “Go out all night drinking before our next shift and then tell me that again”

We both worked at a coffee shop in town. I actually quite enjoyed it. Being able to chat with people and brighten their day with coffee and cakes was a nice feeling.

Of course, it wasn’t something I wanted to do forever. Film making was my passion, the thing that I aspired to do in the future. Maybe even make some adaptations of Earthling’s books. Who knows? But, for now at least, I had to make do with making drinks.

Unlike me, Jana really did not like her job. She liked interacting with the customers, being the social butterfly she is, but the part where she actually had to serve and clean was never really something she enjoyed doing.

If I got paid every time she moaned when cleaning down the tables, there would be no need for this job. I would be rolling in money. She always claimed that it was manual labour, and she was going to sue the company for it. It did make me wonder what she thought would happen when she signed up for the job, but I never dared ask as she was always in a mood. It was best not to make things worse and just nod along.

“So, that book you have” she said “That’s the one with the mystery author, right?”

I nodded “Yep, they use a pen name. Lots of people have obviously tried to step forward and claim to be the author but the real one has yet to be revealed. If they ever will be. Fame isn’t for everyone, so I wouldn’t blame them for keeping hidden and basking silently in the glory of their writing”

“Aren’t you curious about who it is?” she asked me

“Well, yeah” I replied “I have always wondered who it is. I would love to be able to properly give my gratitude to the person that created such wonderful books… but I wouldn’t go out of my way to try and drag someone into the spotlight that doesn’t want to be there”

Many people on the internet have been trying to do exactly that. I have never understood why. Sure, you want to be the one to solve this giant question. But if it involves having to invade someone’s private life and tear down all the security and boundaries, they have built around them in order to remain anonymous, why would you want to do that?

What does revealing a random stranger’s identity add to your life? Nothing. It wouldn’t make you best friends with this person. In fact, you would probably end up as public enemy number one. Snooping in other people’s business isn’t cute, it’s creepy. Especially when they go out of their way to hide it.

The customers began flooding in. People coming in for their takeaway cups of coffee to beat away the morning tiredness. Monday’s were always especially bad. The weekend always wipes people out. Combining that with five days left of work looming over their head, a constant reminder of the seemingly never-ending week ahead of them, anyone would be exhausted.

Then, after a while, I spotted a familiar head of bleach blonde head of hair among the crowd out the corner of my eye.

“Robbe” I heard Jana hiss beside me as I continued making drinks for the awaiting customers “He’s here!”

Sander was a regular at the shop. He would always come in with an easy smile on his face and instantly brighten my day.

He was one of the most beautiful people I had ever laid my eyes on. Not only that, but he was also incredibly kind. Always dishing out compliments and making conversation with us while he patiently waited for his order. He has even defended us a couple of times when customers have been rowdy and impatient during the rush hours. Sander was just an all-round saint.

Jana knew that I had a small crush on him. I never told her outright, but she saw the way my face lit up whenever he was around and joined the dots herself.

I waited until he got to the front of the line and greeted him with a shy smile, trying not to blush like I normally did

“Hey, Robbe!” he said, grinning “How are you this morning?”

“I’m good” I squeaked “Will it be your usual, today?”

Ok, so maybe small crush was a bit of an understatement. He always seemed to make me tongue tied and act like a complete idiot. Which was a great way to act in front of someone you want to impress.

He nodded “You know me so well. Either that or I am in here too often”

“Nonsense!” Jana called to him “We love having you in here, Sander… some more than others” she muttered under breath, meaning only for me to hear it

As I was making his drink (a chocolate mocha – which was basically just a fancy coffee with chocolate, always with whipped cream on top) he leaned against the counter, making light conversation with Jana and me. He never seemed aware that we were at work and that he might be holding up the queue. Not that there were many of them at that moment. He had come just at the right time, most of the people filing out and going to their jobs.

“So, did that book come that you were talking about?” he asked me

“Um, yeah” I was surprised he remembered. I had made an offhand remark about it a few weeks back. But then, he always did seem to pick up on small details like that often “I got it this morning before I came to work. The first thing I’m going to do when I get out of here is run home to read it”

“Really?” he said, sounding faintly surprised “You are that eager to read it?”

I turned towards him, placing the steaming cup of coffee on the tray next to the croissant Jana got for him.

“Well, I’ve been waiting for it for so long… it takes priority over everything else as far as I’m concerned”

“You know Robbe” Jana said teasingly from beside me, jabbing me lightly in the side “forever a bookworm”

Sander smiled as he picked up the tray from the counter “When I come back, you’ll have to tell me how you’re finding it”

Just as I was about to reply, Jana jumped in “He’ll only have good things to say. He’s obsessed with this author, won’t shut up about them. It’s kind of annoying actually”

He smirked “Maybe I’ll have to check them out”

“You should!” I told him enthusiastically “Their works are amazing. Even if you aren’t really into reading, this person can have you drawn in with just a page of their writing”

“I don’t doubt that, I’m sure you have impeccable taste” Sander said, winking at me

He often did that but even after weeks of seeing it, I was still blown away each time. He always seemed to take my breath away without even trying.

Sander made his way over to a table, placing his tray down and taking out his small black notebook as normal. It was his daily routine and moved like clockwork every time. I don’t think there has been a single day he has come in when he hasn’t been scribbling away dedicatedly in there, pen moving furiously across the paper.

I was always curious about what he was doing in it, but never dared ask. It could be something deeply personal and private, I wouldn’t want to invade his comfort zone like that.

He was in his own world when he wrote. As soon as the book was opened it was like a protective bubble opened up around him, blocking out anyone and everything from his work. If we wanted to ask if he wanted a refill or anything else to eat, it would take a few tries to get his attention. Sander manages to block it out so easily.

Although it was a similar thing when I read. It was like escaping to another realm where nobody could reach you. Like a haven that you could take shelter in and escape from all your problems, if only for a short amount of time.

[xfadingstarx]

A Bleach Retrospective: In defense of Bleach

These are opinions, please respect that.

_______________________________

My Journey with Bleach (please skip if you want to go straight to the analysis):

On September the 8th, 2006 YTV’s weekend evening anime programming block (Bionix) aired the first episode of Bleach. I, unfortunately, did not catch this episode, instead, I caught the second episode on September 15th the following week. I was ten and from then on, Bleach fascinated me. It had an interesting concept, tight pacing, catchy music, a good story, and unique character designs. I also really enjoyed how Bleach lacked the same kind of emotional labour that Naruto demanded (as child who survived off of constantly seeking validation from others because of absentee parents, Naruto is way too much work).

My fascination with Bleach got me started in the fandom communities of yesteryear, for I was a child with zero internet supervision. My introduction to fanfiction was because I loved Hitsugaya Toshiro.

Bleach was my entry into poetry (poem at the start of every volume).

But alas, all good things were not meant to last and by the summer of 2009, I was officially done with Bleach. It had felt stilted for some time before then. Over the years, I would gradually revisit bits and pieces of Bleach, but I would not read it in its entirety until months after its finish, about a decade after I had first saw Bleach on my TV. Between the time I stopped reading and the series ended, I became friends with people who didn’t think highly of Bleach and I also started seeing criticism I had made about Bleach in 2011 being repeated by fans on the internet, I started to think that maybe Bleach was bad, but I knew what bad writing looked like —I started reading fanfiction through Bleach fanfiction AMVs on YouTube — and somehow Bleach didn’t sit right with me in the “bad writing category”. 

I sit back now, a decade and ahalf later from when I first started and ask, “was Bleach really that bad, and if so, why do I keep coming back to it?”

-----------------------------------------------

What Made Bleach So Good?

Unique story and aesthetics: When Bleach first started in 2001, it was one of the first manga series to talk about souls and death in a poetic way and with such coherence. Bleach clearly knew what it wanted to say about life and death. It also had a very unique aesthetic, very similar to that of “The World Ends With You” or “Persona 5″ — an urban Japanese take on R&B kind of vibe. Also, Bleach had the most “realistic” and minimalist art style amongst the Big 3.

Cool Music: Bleach had cool music, from very solid rock’n’roll and R&B style songs in its OPs and EDs to very funky OST music with lots of pizzazz. Many singers feature by Bleach ended up successful (to varying degrees) outside of anime, eg: Orange Range, UVERworld, YUI, sid, etc.

Versatile tone: Bleach was edgy, there’s no doubt about that. It was willing to show a lot of blood and bodily violence, especially in the manga (eg half of people blowing up and bits of bone still attached). Despite this though, it was not pretentious about its edginess — it didn’t revel in it. To contrast the edginess, there is a lot of humour in Bleach with character interactions. It was able to be laid back enough with its strong characters that it would rely on the characters’ relationships for comedic relief. The post-credit skits and the fillers really helped to add to this overall feel as well.

Maturity of the Story: Bleach was very willing to handle topics that made people think. For example, the Ulquiorra - Orihime subarc was treated with a sense of carefulness about it, as if to reflect Ulquiorra’s own cautious curiosity about the heart. A less emotionally mature story would’ve gone for the cheap rape/torture porn, but instead we are treated to determined strong Orihime, who has found strength through the heart after the death of her brother, clashing with the nihilistic hollow who wants to know if there is happiness outside of emptiness. It’s a very loaded question and one that requires both perspective and life experience to fully understand both parties. As well, Bleach always knew what it wanted to say about life and death as the final conflict of Bleach is between Ichigo, who has accepted his transient life and Yhwach, who is scared of death. And ultimately, underneath all that action, Bleach produced takes on its themes that were hard to relate to unless the reader themselves had a certain level of emotional maturity (eg: 12 year old me got nothing out of the Ulqui-Ori arc, but 20 year old me spent a good 10 mins crying after)

Strong characters: Contrary to popular belief, Bleach does have quite solid characterization. In fact, Bleach is the journey of Ichigo as a character, from grappling with his weakness and pain to finally accepting all the parts of himself and his history in order to defeat Yhwach and protect those he cares about. Even the secondary characters of Bleach receive a sizable amount of backstory and/or development. Bleach also managed to have more proactive female characters. Even the damsel in distress Orihime stands up to Ulquiorra and slaps him. As a result of these strong characters, Bleach was able to rely on them and their relationships to drive aspects of the story (eg Ichigo crying in the Fullbringer arc).

Willingness to Deal with Emotion: Given that Ichigo is an internally motivated character, it was obvious Bleach would deal with emotion at some point in time. Making Ichigo just a normal high school boy also relives the previous edginess. Bleach also clearly too the time to make its readers feel in its early years. We are treated to beautiful panelling and very real displays of strong negative emotions. Bleach is also very good at giving its characters room to breathe and be sad. Eg: moping Orihime, moping Ichigo, etc. As well, Kubo went to extraordinary lengths to break Ichigo down during the Fullbringers Arc.

Interesting Character Designs: Every character in Bleach feels vibrant and unique with their personality showing through in their designs. For example: Shunshi’s sloppily tied up hair, visible stubble, and overcoat-hidden-haori show that he is both easy going and not looking for a fight; meanwhile Byakuya’s neatly pulled back hair and neck covered by scarf show that he is both someone who likes structure and is conservative.

Poetry and Symbolism: Kubo manages to weave poetry into Bleach in the beginning of each volume. The poem was said by the character on the volume. It gave the reader insight to this character and it gave Kubo a chance to flex his poetic chops. Further proof of this is the fact that many people don’t realize that the name “Bleach” refers to the bleaching of soul that is key to the story. Kubo loves to use rain to set sad scenes. It rains when Ichigo fights Grand Fisher, Zangetsu tells Ichigo that he hates the rain, etc. Kubo also specifies that he wishes for the reader to read certain volumes on stormy, rainy nights.

Panelling: Many people like to criticize Kubo for the lack of effort with the Bleach manga, but Kubo has stated that he uses negative space (i.e., foregoing backgrounds) to focus more on his character’s expressions. This not only further proves that Bleach cares a lot about its characters, but it’s done well enough that the average reader likely doesn’t notice the lack of background on the first read through. As well, Bleach has very cinematic panelling. Kubo uses the format of manga well, utilizing the human mind’s ability to fill blanks in with clever panelling to create tone and build tension and the feeling of movement through a scene.

In fact, in finding pages for this analysis, I found myself noticing that Bleach panels very similarly to slice-of-life shoujo but with a boy MC manga like "Horimiya": focus on expression through intimate angles and use of panels and breaks to create mood and the feeling of cinema; whereas something like DBZ panels like a shounen action manga with many hard lines and action shots, instead of a focus on subtle details and emotions.

Some Examples:

Notice now in Chapter 197: The approaching danger, Kubo uses a gradual zoom to build tension and the black background to add intensity and signal to the reader that Hitsugaya is relaying important information.

Here in Chapter 234: Not Negotiation, the immediate close up to Ulquiorra’s eye from the full body shots creates a sense of intimidation and unease with its sudden intimacy. As well, the immediate zoom in from Ulquiorra’s side full body shot to his facial profile creates tension and the change from the dark background to the white face with Orihime releases this tension (very fitting with considering the line for this panel is “but not you”). (This scene also ties into Ulquiorra’s central dogma of “that which is not reflected in my eyes does not exist’.)

Again in the same chapter, this gradual zoom in on the two creates tension that is then release in the next panel and summarily cements Ulquiorra as a terrifying BAMF.

In Chapter 262: Unblendable, Kubo uses the negative space to create a feeling of isolation, similar to how Orihime is supposed to be feeling.

In the same chapter, notice how Kubo creates a sense of intimacy (not in the romance sense) with the relationship of Ulquiorra and Orihime. He creates tension gradually with the zooming into Orihime’s eye and releases it with the zoom out to Ulquiorra. Through this scene, Kubo has shown us that Ulquiorra and Orihime have a tense relationship and with the implication of eye contact through the shots and panel breaks creating both the intimacy and showing Orihime’s defiance.

(Interestingly, I’ve noticed that Ulquiorra and Orihime have a lot of these intimate zoom shot-reverse-shot eye panels)

___________________

What are the Bad Parts of Bleach?

Okay, so by now, you’re probably thinking that I’m ignoring the massive amounts of critique that Bleach gets and don’t get me wrong, while Bleach does have a very special place in my heart, I’m also not maudlin enough to pretend that Bleach was all good.

Pacing:

Pacing in the First Half of Bleach (Karakura Town - Arrancar)

When Bleach first started out the pacing was excellent. Kubo showed great mastery of pace to control the tone and highlight the emotions throughout the first two arcs. Mid-way through the Arrancar arc, the fatigue sets in and it was hard to keep up with, especially since Kubo would interrupt one exciting fight set up to go set up more plot elsewhere (eg Fake Karakura town right as Ichigo and Ulquiorra were about to battle). Whilst looking back and reading it all at once does help with the pacing, it was frustrating if you were reading/watching on a weekly basis.

Pacing in the Anime:

I don’t ascribe to a simplistic belief of “fillers bad” simply because I think that sometimes fillers can be a good thing, for example, since every chapter is ~15-20pp, some character interactions have to be cut for the sake for space, so filler is a great opportunity to add those moments back into your story. For example, a lot of early Bleach fillers are just the people of Karakura town just hanging out. That being said, Bleach does have an unfortunate amount of fillers, with some of them even interrupting tense fights (eg the Beast Sword Arc interrupts Ichigo’s battle with Ulquiorra). However, the padding that the fillers provided did wonders for the transition between Soul Society to Arrancar Arc in the anime. Ultimately, the Bleach anime adaption was a long-running anime made for syndication and that’s okay.

******* Brief Aside: many people like(d?) to point out that Bleach has a very cyclical plot structure. I used to think this way too; however, this is not the case. There are many other long running stories that repeat similar goals. The problem lies not in the idea, but the execution. The main complaint about the Orihime rescue was not that it was uninteresting, but instead that it felt a rehash of the plot of the previous arc. This is largely because the story was not given enough time to breath between similar character arcs. For example, in One Piece, Luffy and Co have to save Nami and by extension, her home village so she can join them; however, the next time a Straw Hat needs to be saved is 227 chapters (2 whole story arcs) later. In between saving Rukia and Orihime, there is only a really an arrancar encounter, a bit of training, cheering up Ichigo, and a Grimmjow encounter before Orihime goes with Ulquiorra, thus making the goal of this arc “save Orihime” in only ~59 chapters vs 227. These two similar arc goals so close to each other does indeed create the sense of repetition.

Pacing from Fullbringer to End:

This is where Bleach really lost a lot of people. If you weren’t gone after the Ulquiorra fight, you probably were by this arc.This arc went at breakneck speed, and ngl, during my first full read through I almost gave up here too. I mention earlier that Ichigo had been broken down in this arc, but it was hard to feel his despair and the weight on his shoulders because there wasn’t enough for the reader to take a beat and breathe. The Thousand Year Blood War, similarly suffered from sloppy pacing, with many readers feeling like story lines of Squad 0 and the Soul King were anti-climactic. As well, this arc started with a massacre and feature the deaths of many fan-favourite characters, and unfortunately due to the pacing, their deaths were not given a sense of gravity.

Missed Opportunities and Forgotten Story lines: Many people felt that Kubo forgot about a lot of his characters after the Aizen arc. Many thought the Fullbringer Arc was going to be a Chad/Orihime Arc. Whatever happened to Uryuu lolol? We all just collectively forgot about him for a large portion of the last half of Bleach. At one point in time, there was a rumour going around that Kubo had written out the story for Bleach and lost it. Idk if there is any credibility to it. However, in a 2017 interview, Kubo did say that he did end the series exactly the way he wanted to.

(If anyone wants to see me write an entire ass text post about Orihime and her treatment in Bleach, please let me know because I will do it)

Too mature:Even though above, I praised Bleach's mature handle on its themes, an unfortunate side effect of this is forgetting that the characters are only 15 at the beginning and for the first half of Bleach. This unfortunately, leads to some readers feeling disconnected from Bleach.

Epilogue: THE DESTROYER OF SHIPS!!! A lot of people hated this ending. Many people felt like the romance was shoe-horned in, others didn’t like the pairings, and there were some people who actually liked it. Personally, I didn’t like it too much, but it was a cute conclusion nonetheless. Since it didn't add anything to the story except for a "where are they now" look and because of that, I low-key felt like it was unnecessary, but w/e.

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Perspective

Making a long-running weekly serialized story is hard and doing it for 15 years is gruelling (obligatory “fuck capitalism” here). Like many artists of long-running manga, Kubo destroyed his health for the sake of publishing Bleach weekly. Kubo on his health after Bleach (photo from AshitanoGin on Twitter):

Given this insight, I think it’s only fair to be respectful and grateful for Kubo’s contribution to the anime-sphere. Also, through his work, Kubo seems to be a very understanding person and artist. I’m sure he knows better than anyone where Bleach went wrong, but there’s nothing that can be done now. Despite him having a twitter, he is not Joanne and doesn’t feel the need to constantly hemorrhage out word of god info about Bleach (and thank god for that).

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Final Thoughts

It’s hard to forget my happy memories when I think about Bleach. It had my first adolescent crush and first OTP. As a result, I think the best way to enjoy Bleach is to take what you want out of it. People always think that something has to be 100% without flaw for it to be good, but that is not true at all. It is totally okay to just like the parts that you like without engaging with anything else. It’s special to you for a reason, you know? 

There’s no use in fretting over what Bleach could’ve been, besides, very rarely is the reality better than the fantasy in your head.

I do think though that a lot of Kubo’s issues could’ve been fixed if he planned the story better but not all of us can be “I've been planning One Piece since elementary school” Oda Eiichiro.

Other voices on this issue: here

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Wow. I can’t believe you made it this far down. Congratulations! Thanks for reading my 2:30am non-sober take on Bleach (it only took me 7 hours to write). Here's a cookie <3

[cozy-corner-system]

TL;DR We’re all people, and people are complex - let people explore who they are, come to their own conclusions, but also don’t be afraid to point out ableism when it happens.

Alright, a little more rambly, but only because we’re a little tired on this.

Endogenic Systems are, by nature, definition and name, not caused by trauma. They are reportedly just naturally occurring - something that just happened. Depending on the person, they can also claim that they made themself into an Endogenic System, whether it’s through meditation, (day)dreaming, manifesting, or what have you.

Now to preface this:

As long as this is done in good faith and practice, and is not used as a means to harm others or excuse the actions of oneself, sure; go ahead. Just please keep in mind what you say may hurt and perhaps even downright trigger others - specifically dissociative Systems.

To us, a System means having your brain run extremely differently to everyone else’s - specifically in regards to the idea of The Self. Singlets are a singular, solid Self - that’s why they are called Singlets. Systems, on the other hand, are multiple slivers, fragments, and shards of the Self. This is because, typically, a grand amount of trauma came around and prevented the brain from forming into a far more solid, singular Self. Think of a mosaic painting slowly coming together to form one grand painting, only for a stampede of bulls to come and shatter it. That is often how Systems are formed. Each alter is their own shard to this once greater piece of art, but now everything is far too damaged to properly be put back together at this moment.

Now, by going with this idea of The Self being a mosaic - glass - painting, this is how we see Endogenic and other ‘naturally’ occurring Systems: A person who is one whole, finished painting - a Singular, Solid Self. Then, one day, this person hears about these shattered paintings and how each shard is their own piece to the painting. The person then proceeds to find a way to shatter themself. At least, they think they do. Because really, all they’ve done is create a shard completely separate to their own painting. They are still a whole Self with an extra shard that is completely unrelated to their whole Self.

Some may claim that it is a shard from their whole Self, and sometimes they are right. Except, the thing is that this was a shard made by the painting itself. The Self - the painting - took on the role of the bull and shattered a section of themself. Meanwhile, the painting that was shattered by an actual herd of bulls is still trying to get itself back together, or at least find a way to function. They never wanted to be shattered - they never wanted to be crushed beneath the weight, or experience the pain, scars, and torment that came after it. They didn’t ask to have all these shards of a once nearly whole Self, but the other painting did. It wanted to have the shards, but didn’t have anyone around to shatter it - so it did that by itself. No pain, no scars, no torment, no lost nights of sleep - nothing.

Do both of these paintings still have shards? Yes. Do they have shards for the same purpose or reason? No.

Are they the same? Not really, no.

Now, imagine a painting that is shattered - a painting that has been broken apart into shards by some outside force. Imagine this painting then going around and saying “oh, no, I haven’t been shattered by anyone! I’m just naturally shattered like this” to all the other paintings around; shattered or otherwise. This painting claims to have naturally been shattered like this, but many, many other shattered paintings know. They know what truly happened to the other shattered painting to cause all of its shards to take form.

What’s important is to recognize that not all paintings - not all Systems - will know they are dissociative. We aren’t meant to know about our Systems or our disorders, because that can create the risk of also knowing about the trauma so dutifully hidden away. Sure, there are some Systems who were purposefully made, whatever. But there are also many Systems who believe themselves to be natural, or purposefully made, when clearly they just have very strong amnesiac barriers between themself and some, most, or all their Alters.

I guess the point of this post is to just further exemplify that it’s okay to be dissociative, and, to an extent, it’s okay to be scared at the possibility there is trauma you don’t remember. That’s the point of being a dissociative System in the first place - to protect you, the Host, from taking the brunt of most trauma you experience. You don’t deserve to be screamed at over the internet, or made fun of, or harassed, or anything; especially if you are trying to come to terms with being dissociative a.k.a traumagenic.

It’s okay to not be ready to face your trauma - whatever it may be. It’s okay to not want to discuss what trauma you might even have. It’s okay to take your time and explore on your time and with what feels right to you. Let me tell, it is especially okay to do this if you are a minor. Being a kid, or even a teen, is hard and it sucks a lot, so I can’t blame any Systems out there who are young, confused, and maybe even scared - so they latch onto the Endo label. You don’t need the stress of general teenage stuff, school, the maze of puzzles and riddles that is teenage socializing, the blossoming self awareness of yourself and the world around you and the probable fact you have repressed memories of trauma and that you aren’t as whole of a painting you once thought yourself to be because of that. If The Host is ND in another way, as well (say, autistic, ADHD, or something else of the sort), and they have a lot of introjects based on characters from media they like and take part in, then they just might even think themself even more of an Endo than a dissociative System.

And, again, that’s fine. Let people come to their own conclusions. Trauma is a tough thing - those of us who are aware of the trauma we’ve faced, and also the fact we’re Systems because of it, also have to realize that we have a lot of shit to unpack, fix up, and handle. And it’s stressful. It’s tough. It really fucking sucks. Not everyone is capable of handling trauma, or even think they might have it.

We’re all paintings that are shattered or have shards in some way. It’s okay to be dissociative, and it’s okay to not be ready to fully face that yet. It’s not okay for anyone to be yelling at each other, sending each other threats, spreading misinformation, or heaven-forbid being ableist and inconsiderate. Just. Let people explore and figure themselves out. Don’t pressure them into one box or the other. We’re all people.

[foolgobi65]

Bookstore AU, meet messy, “i know that it’s the thought that counts but this doesn’t even look like you thought about it.” - for Urmila/Lakshmana?

k this probably borrows from the characterizations of “sita’s sister” but since the focus isnt on sita and rama we can brush off their whole emotional arc and say it happened while they were getting to know each other, probably on some online forum for sherlock holmes fans or something. i’ve never actually written urmilla or lakshmana before, so you’ll have to tell me if the characterization works!! i think they’d mellow out after a bit, and bond over their shared slightly wicked senses of humor and protective instincts when said instincts arent leading them to clash with each other lol. thank you for the super fun prompt, i hope you like it!!!

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Urmilla frowns. “These books don’t belong here!” 

Technically, neither does Urmilla -- it’s her sister Sita who’s supposed to be meeting her internet friend/potential lover at the cafe attached to Sita’s favorite bookstore today, the only day Rama is apparently in Bombay before he has to fly back to America where he’s finishing up his MBA. 

“I’m just saying it’s suspicious,” Urmilla had said, watching from her perch on Sita’s bed as Sita tried to find a pair of earrings that would suit the color top she was wearing. She reached for a pair of gold ones, but put them back when Urmilla wrinkled her nose and picked up a pair of silver jhumkas. 

“It’s not suspicious at all,” Sita had responded. “He was only here a week, and spent those days with his family in Ayodhya. I’m just lucky we were able to find the time to meet at all after all these years.” 

“That’s my point! You’ve known each other for years, and you expect me to believe that the first time he manages to find the time to see you in person is for a few hours on the way out? If he really loved you--”  

“Urmilla!” Sita shrieked, dropping the jhumka she had been trying to thread through her left earlobe. “We’re just friends!” 

Urmilla, noting the sky-blue kurta Sita had chosen to wear -- the one everyone had always told Sita made her complexion look particularly lovely -- had rolled her eyes. As always, Sita was too soft for this cold, cruel world and so it fell to Urmilla, her intrepid younger sister to stand watch against all those who would try to break her elder sister’s heart. Sita had told her that under no circumstances was Urmilla to observe her “meeting” with Rama, but Urmilla had only kissed Sita’s cheek goodbye and, a few minutes later, changed her top, put on her glasses, and rode her scooter to the bookshop. 

“And how would you know?” a male voice asks in response to Urmilla’s earlier exclamation. He’s tall, Urmilla notes immediately, and handsome too -- but the expression on his face is slightly incredulous, as if he doesn’t believe that Urmilla could understand the mysteries of the library arts, and Urmilla feels the first tingling of rage at the base of her spine. She’s using a gap between books, the one she supposes the books he’s carrying are meant to fill, in order to spy on Rama and Sita sitting at the cafe table near the register, but, confident that Rama seems in no rush to do anything but stare across his coffee and smile at Sita like a dope, Urmilla turns to face her new adversary. 

“Do you work here or something?” Why else would he be carrying the books, she thinks, but still she’s learning to verify her assumptions before flying off the handle. 

He takes a step forward, setting the books on the edge of a random shelf. “And if I do?” 

Urmilla huffs. “These books are sorted alphabetically, rather than first being grouped by genre.”  

The man crosses his arms. “Genre can be subjective! And what if an author dabbles in more than one -- should I be spreading their work out throughout the store?” 

“Yes,” Urmilla insists, plucking out a romance from next to a robot-fantasy. “I know it’s the thought that counts, but this doesn’t even look like you thought about it! When someone’s browsing for another romantic comedy after enjoying their last one so much, should they just be wandering the store reading spines and hoping for a title that speaks to them?” 

The book leaves Urmilla’s hand, as the man flips it over and reads the back description. “Yes,” he says in return.  

“If you really believe that,” Urmilla says, somehow even more aggravated when this handsome, stupid stranger’s attention is diverted, “then you’re shit at your job and you should probably be looking for a new career.” 

For a moment, she wonders if she’s gone too far: the man looms tall, and briefly seems like he might be genuinely upset. Urmilla, like her sister, is of an average height for South Asian women and is at quite the disadvantage. Her left hand slips into her pocket where she keeps her keys, and the pocket knife attached. 

Almost like he knows what she’s thinking, the anger fades from his expression and he takes a step back. Urmilla exhales, relaxing her grip. 

“I don’t,” he admits sheepishly, “work here, I mean.” He hands her back the book. “I’ve spent the last few hours pretending I do so that I can keep an eye on my elder brother. He’s on a first date, but all of us brothers swear he’s been in love with the girl for years.” 

Intrigued, Urmilla raises an eyebrow. The cafe is a famous spot for first dates amongst a particular set, so it’s not exactly extraordinary that there might be another younger sibling hidden in the stacks. “Friends from college?” 

He snorts. “I wish. He’s never actually met the girl, but they’ve been chatting over the internet for god knows how long. At all hours of day and night too, smiling like an idiot while he types on his phone.” 

Urmilla blinks. It can’t be... “Why haven’t they met?” 

He shrugs. “As far as he’s told me, it’s partially because of her schedule and partially because of his. I think she was abroad when they first met, and then by the time she came back he got the offer to do his MBA in America. During the holidays, they’re both either working or with their families.” 

Sita was in the UK two years ago, Urmilla thinks. And she was working in Calcutta all last summer, so busy that she couldn’t even spare time for Urmilla to come and visit for a day. 

“Oh,” she says, realizing that this might be a golden opportunity. “And what type of man is your older brother? Has he had many girlfriends before this? Would he let his wife work after marriage? Does he watch porn from websites that don’t verify that the actors have safe working conditions?” 

“What,” the man splutters, and yes the last question was probably a little too much. But still, Urmilla thinks, all of these are questions of vital importance when scoping out Sita’s potential boyfriend -- who thinks this is a date! Just friends, Urmilla’s ass! 

“Would he let his wife work after marriage,” Urmilla tries again, deciding for now that she can save the question about his porn habits to ask Rama directly. Now that she thinks about it, Sita had mentioned that he had younger brothers. Pity that Urmilla had never asked Sita about their names. 

“All three of our mothers work!” Rama’s brother exclaims, and Urmilla’s eyes widen in simultaneous shock, horror, and delight. 

“Is your father a polygamist?!” she shrieks, probably smiling in the way Sita always says makes her look deranged. Urmilla just knew there was something wrong with Rama, who Sita always speaks about as if he could thread the constellations if he wanted. Oh, this is too good to keep on the inside. “I knew it!” 

“No!” Rama’s brother bellows back, “Why would you say that?” Too late, Urmilla realizes that bookstores are supposed to be quiet places, where people don’t loudly question other people’s marital habits. When she turns to look back through the gap. Rama and Sita are gone. 

“He wasn’t married to them all at once,” another man’s voice answers, and when Urmilla turns it is Rama who’s speaking, Sita at his side. Her face is flush as a beet, lips trying valiantly to turn down in a frown, but when Urmilla looks at her hand it is tangled up in Rama’s so Sita can’t possibly be that upset. Though there’s still the question of the father. Rama shrugs at Urmilla’s raised eyebrow. “He was just...unlucky in love, for a bit. But he’s been happily married for the last 20 years or so.” 

“Third time’s the charm?” Urmilla never did get an answer about Rama’s previous relationships. 

Rama smiles. “The second, actually. They broke up for about a year, and Father was....not quite at his best, perhaps.” 

Urmilla scoffs, but when presented with an acceptable answer she has no choice but to concede. Sita’s presence prevents her from re-asking some of the more ...necessary but perhaps socially crass questions on Urmilla’s mind. 

“Brother,” Rama’s brother demands, “why on earth are you even entertaining the accusations of this --” Before Urmilla can respond, Rama raises his hand, and immediately, miraculously, his brother falls silent. Point to Rama. 

“For the same reason that you’ve been here hiding away from me since, I assume, the moment you dropped me off at 10 am.” 

“Wait,” Sita interjects, “weren’t we supposed to meet at 12?” Rama blushes as Sita’s smile grows. “Were you really waiting for me all this time?” 

“Yes, yes, he’s very sweet and was worried that he would be caught up in traffic,” Rama’s brother responds, brushing away Sita’s delight in favor of turning to Urmilla and glaring. “But that doesn’t answer my question. I was being a good brother and trying to make sure that your date went as planned.” 

“And that required you poorly impersonate a shop assistant? Think about the amount of work you’ve created for the people who actually work here!” 

“I didn’t want to be kicked out!” 

“No one gets kicked out of a bookstore, you piece of--”

“Urmilla!” 

Now it’s Rama’s brother’s turn to blink as if something has just occurred to him. “Brother,” he says slowly, “didn’t you say she had a sister? Ur-something.” 

The only thing preventing Urmilla from slow-clapping in response is Rama’s gentle, ever-so-slightly put upon smile. “Urmilla,” he says, “might I have the honor of introducing you to my younger brother Lakshman?”