#the people in her life

[heirceleste]

@curseburnt + first meetings

it happens so fast that lokelani doesn't really know what's going on until the cops arrive. she's still standing with a bullet hole in her thigh and two dead parents, front door cracked open and a hydrangea bush that seems to have tripled in size blocking what would have been a series of fatal shots. it isn't until there's a woman in front of her, lips moving without any sound coming out that kel collapses, realizes that she's been screaming since the first shot. as her knees hit the concrete steps she lets out a final wail, pain overcoming her as she meets her parents' dead eyes. its the last thing she remembers clearly, everything coming in and out, grounded only by the pain in her thigh and the rawness of her throat. thinks she remembers the cop she had collapsed into in an ambulance with her, sirens echoing all around her as she's pulled away from her parents bodies.

the next time she's well and truly aware though, is two days later. hasn't cried once since the gun went off and every loud noise makes her jump just a little. is already sick of condolences, wants to yell at everyone that she's scared because she got shot and she's pretty sure a plant saved her life, not because her parents are dead. thinks if another nurse says 'poor girl' or more flowers from her parents' church show up, she's going to scream. tell everyone that her parents were monsters and part of her is glad their dead. the hospital thinks they're doing her a favor by allowing her to heal and get rest until the crime scene is cleaned up, can't seem to find the words to explain that she hasn't lived there full time since she started college and all she wants to do is go back to her little studio above the flower shop. it's only when a familiar face shows up in her hospital room that lokelani seems to find her voice.

(she refuses to think about the last time this happened. the last time she didn't speak it had been more of a conscious choice. lokelani had done everything then to keep herself safe, to stay alive. staying silent meant there were less lies to keep track of, easier to keep up appearances of the perfect child if she simply didn't talk.)

"you were there that first day, right?" she asks softly. she sets her phone on the bed in front of her and gingerly pulls her knees to her chest, trying not to press on the sutured wound in her thigh. "any chance you're gonna tell the hospital they're being dramatic and i can go now?" she asks softly, playing with the popsocket on her phone as she speaks.

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[a-flickering-soul]

what people need to understand is that ariana grande is able to pull off every single one of galinda's physical gags because that woman was in the comedy trenches of nickelodeon's victorious and anyone who was forced to show feet in front of dan schneider is walking away with a level of commitment to the bit that human beings were not built to perceive

[do-you-know-this-queer-character]

Do you know this queer character?

Castiel is Queer and Agender or Genderfluid, and uses varying pronouns based on presentation!

[sableeira]

2025 sounds like the perfect year for the release of a fourth and final book in a sci-fi fantasy tetralogy with lesbian necromancers in space and a beautiful, strong, and angry barbie titular character

[moghedien]

Lae’zel’s romance arc is literally everything like it’s a one night stand. It’s a two night stand but she pretends she isn’t dying to be with you again. She’s a domme. She’s a bottom. She doesn’t believe in love and doesn’t like to cuddle. She thinks you’re weak for showing interest in her. She thinks she’s weak because she can’t stop thinking about you. She wakes you up in the middle of the night and makes you duel her because she doesn’t know what else to do about being obsessed with you. She cries and confesses her devotion to you if you win. She cries and confesses her devotion to you if you lose. She will tell everyone about your sexual exploits without shame. She’s embarrassed if you try to kiss her in public. She growls at you if you stop kissing her public. She is extremely possessive of you. She wants you to be as extremely possessive of her and is the most visibly heart broken if you cheat on her. She takes half the game building up the courage to ask you to cuddle. She changes her entire perception of the world because you showed her to was ok to approach things differently. She gives you multiple terms of endearment. She’s terrified that your relationship will end after all of this is over. The climax of her romance is holding her hand.

[wishfulsketching]

Happy (Shimmer) Holidays!

Even the chem baron can enjoy a sudden snow day with his family! Too bad his right hand lady decides to use this chance to have some revenge for all the bullshit she has to deal with

(I wanted to draw this three years ago but didn't get around to do it)

[raticalshoez]

They're like a packet of fruit snack gummies

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[datcravat]

It seems there's a new lawyer in town!!!

[essayofthoughts]

Genuinely, I think one of the most fun and crunchy things about any character is

How far they will go for things they want

What they will do to get things they want

Things they won't do, no matter how much they want what they'd get in exchange

Because these things tell you some very important things about the character, namely their limits, their price, and their absolute No's. (And it lets you create some really REALLY crunchy conflict)

[ruporas]

your love returns in tragedy (ID in alt)

[lotus-pear]

i love you royal trio (minus akechi)

[pouletpourri]

I know the circustances didn't make it avaliable, but..I kinda wish we had a farewell scene

[potato-lord-but-not]

FAROEVERSE DOODLES I can only think about her for 5 minutes at a time before I become unwell and need to lie down

(also in this au Arthur dies during the book incident instead of Parker (who probably wasn’t present), she’d been going thru his office trying to find a way to be helpful bc her father never tells her things and keeps his job from her and she found some things she probably shouldn’t have, Arthur caught her a bit too late)

((AND Jane is literally the exact same as John except her gender got transed in the opposite direction))

[flwrkid14]

Bruce shares custody of Tim with Harley Quinn

Yeah, you read that right. Gotham’s broodiest billionaire vigilante and the queen of chaotic energy are co-parenting Tim Drake. And, somehow, that’s not even the weirdest thing that's happened to the bats this year.

Why? Two words: Joker Junior.

The details are locked down tighter than the Batcave, but here’s what everyone knows (or guesses): Joker broke Tim in ways none of them can fathom. He didn’t just try to kill him—he tried to make Tim like him. And while Tim clawed his way back from the brink, he didn’t do it alone. Harley was there.

She was part of the nightmare. And then, unexpectedly, she was part of the healing. She stepped in, helped Tim survive when Joker was doing his worst. When it was all over, when Joker was (temporarily) gone, she didn’t vanish into Gotham’s chaos. She stayed.

And somehow, somewhere along the way, Tim started calling her “Mom.”

And Bruce didn’t stop him.

Cue the Batfamily losing their collective minds.

Dick is pacing the Batcave, gesturing wildly. “Bruce, this is Harley Quinn we’re talking about! You don’t just co-parent with a rogue! There are laws against this! Or, like, there should be!”

Jason is sitting on the Batmobile, arms crossed, voice dripping with disbelief. “She’s literally a former rogue. She tried to kill you! Like, more than once. This is insane, even for you.”

Steph is perched on the edge of a desk, trying (and failing) not to laugh. “Okay, but, like, can you blame Tim? Harley does make amazing pancakes. Better than Alfred’s, honestly—”

A scandalized gasp echoes from the other side of the room.

Cass just watches quietly, her head tilted, but there’s a small, knowing smile on her face. She gets it. She’s seen the way Tim softens around Harley, how he relaxes in a way he doesn’t around anyone else.

Damian glares at Bruce like he’s lost his last shred of common sense. “Father, you have truly surpassed yourself. Allowing that woman into the sanctity of our home—”

Duke raises a hand cautiously. “Okay, but can we at least talk about how Tim basically has diplomatic immunity now? No rogue in Gotham is gonna mess with him. He’s Harley’s kid!”

And it’s true. Between Harley’s reputation and Poison Ivy stepping in as Tim’s unofficial stepmom (because of course she and Harley got back together), the rogues have adopted a weird kind of reverence for him. Tim’s no longer just a bat to them—he’s Harley’s kid.

Picture this: Tim’s out on patrol, and Riddler has the gall to interrupt with a riddle—only to end it with, “You’re sharper than I thought, kid. Guess Harley taught you well, huh?” before disappearing into the night.

Harley’s brand of parenting is chaotic but deeply personal. She knows Tim’s tells, the way his hands shake when he’s overwhelmed or the too-quiet moments when he’s retreating into himself. She’s the one who sits cross-legged on the floor with him, working on puzzles and cracking jokes until the tension lifts.

She carries extra band-aids in her purse because “Ya never know when a fight with some thug is gonna leave ya with a paper cut!” She also leaves sticky notes on his projects with scribbled messages like “You’re a genius, baby boy!” or “Don’t forget snacks!” They’re goofy, sure, but they make Tim smile when he needs it most. She keeps a stash of snacks in the Manor because Tim forgets to eat when he’s working. She shows up with pancakes at 3 a.m., douses everything in syrup, and calls him “baby boy” in that soft tone that makes Tim feel… safe.

Even Harley’s chaos has an odd kind of comfort to it. She’ll burst into the Manor unannounced, dragging Tim into impromptu “self-care parties” with face masks, bad rom-coms, and every flavor of ice cream imaginable. Somehow, it works.

Ivy, on the other hand, balances Harley’s energy with her own structured nurturing. She insists on “proper nutrition” and occasionally sends Tim home with meal prep containers filled with organic, eco-friendly food labeled things like “Stress-Busting Smoothie” or “Brain-Boosting Soup.” If Bruce raises an eyebrow at it, Ivy simply reminds him that “The human body can only fight crime properly with the right fuel, Bats.”

One time, she cornered Bruce in the greenhouse, pointing an accusatory finger. “If you send Tim out on patrol without a proper meal or at least six hours of sleep, I swear, Bruce, your rose garden is compost.”

And while Harley is the queen of hugs and chaos, Ivy is the one who sits with Tim on the porch at night, talking softly about resilience and regrowth, using plant metaphors Tim pretends not to understand but secretly finds comforting. Once, after a particularly bad night, she gifted him a small cactus with a note: “Even when it feels like the world is trying to tear you apart, you’re stronger than you think. Also, low maintenance, like you.”

Bruce knows the family doesn’t fully understand. But as he watches Harley teaching Tim how to make lasagna one night, the two of them laughing as the kitchen turns into a war zone of flour and tomato sauce, he doesn’t regret it.

Sometimes family doesn’t look like you think it will. Sometimes it’s stitched together from the most unexpected pieces.

And sometimes, it’s an ex-rogue, a traumatized teen, and a brooding billionaire all trying to figure out how to keep the lasagna from burning.

Welcome to Gotham.