Me, Ugly Crying On A Fanart Because It Fits Perfectly One Of My Fanfic Even If It Is Just A Coincidence.

Would you like for me to add a Lian's pov for the "I would (only) be your girl" section of "In another life"? I kinda started writing down ideas in an accident and the idea stuck.

Apparently people who don't have executive dysfunction think that actually working on something is the hardest part of doing something. And that's why they get mad that you call the rest of the project "easy" after you've finally worked through doing the plan and know what to do when you're working.

So when you're through with the epiphany of how to make it physically possible to make the thing you're making, and you're sharing the plan with excitement, because the hard part is over, and now you only have to get your hands moving and do it, they get mad at you like

"it's not that easy! It's a lot of hard work! >:C"

they mean it, because

to them, working is the hardest part.

They don't have to fight their brains to get started. They don't have to fight their way through making the choices, making the plan, making yourself make the thing. People who don't suffer from executive dysfunction think that the hardest part is actually doing the thing.

fanon really built up "Cass is Bruce's favorite child" and meanwhile I'm sitting over here with a whole stack of panels in a folder labeled "Dick is Canonically Bruce's Favorite Child" adsfghjkl

A little gift/ preview for @freezer-bride-your-sweet-divine

(Thank you for your support in navigating tumblr and your endless feedback, I REALLY appreciate it)

This piece will eventually be part of my series,

https://archiveofourown.org/series/4163446

Or maybe it won't, but I felt like it was a waste to scrap it entirely!

Unnamed Grief

Chapter 0, Prologue

It’s not that Bruce doesn’t love his sons.

He does.

Fiercely.

To the point of agony.

To the point of madness.

But they are sons.

They are legacy and reflection and consequence.

Dixie was origin.

Dixie was genesis.

Dixie was the very first moment he knew what it meant to live for someone outside of himself.

The moment that reshaped the architecture of his soul, rerouted the pathways of his cold, calculating heart.

Dixie didn’t make him Batman.

She made him Bruce, in the softest, most staggering ways.

He can explain why the others matter.

Jason needed saving.

Tim needed purpose.

Damian needed undoing.

But Dixie?

Dixie needed nothing from him (except, maybe, understanding, the one thing he was never able to provide her with) and yet she became his everything.

She wasn't the best of them because she was flawless.

She was the best of them because she was HIS.

His In every ugly, broken, radiant piece.

She was never built to be a soldier, even if she learned to fight before she learned to laugh.

She was not meant to carry the burdens she bore, and yet…God, she CHOSE to.

She chose to carry them.

Her brothers.

Their world.

Him.

Always him.

Even when he failed her.

Especially when he failed her.

Bruce knows all of his sons.

He can break them down, read their patterns, identify every fracture in their psyches.

But Dixie? Dixie remained unreadable, unknowable, even being the one he has known for the longest time, even being the one whose bones were shaped just like the ones he has known since before his own birth, his mother's.

She was his daughter in a way the others could never be, not just by blood, not just by name, but in understanding.

She KNEW him.

She knew him in the way a mirror knows its subject.

In the way a grave knows its dead.

None of the boys have ever looked at him the way she did, like she could see every ruin inside him and still believed something beautiful lived there.

Jason rages at him.

Tim studies him.

Damian judges him.

Dixie forgave him (Dixie raged and she studied and she judged too, but in the end she forgave him, she ALWAYS forgave him).

Again.

And again.

And again.

And that was a terrifying, holy thing.

Because forgiveness, real forgiveness, from someone like her…it CHANGES people.

The boys push him.

She grounded him.

The boys rebel.

She resisted.

She defied with love, with laughter, with hands that mended what others destroyed.

She wasn't his soldier (even if he knows she often viewed herself that way).

She was his compass.

He is not a man of poetry, but she made him one in the quiet moments.

Made him remember what lullabies sounded like.

Made him believe in softness.

Made him ache.

And he knows…it’s not that his sons are less.

It’s that Dixie was more.

More Bruce.

More memories.

More mystery.

More herself, in ways that none of them ever dared to be.

His sons always belonged to the world. She always belonged to him, not by ownership, not by right, but by that old, unshakable bond formed in the abyss between his birth and hers, between his grief and her grief, two wounded things clinging to each other like breath.

She was the child he never asked for, the one who became his first everything and the one who saved them all.

How could anyone ever compare to that?

They couldn't.

They never will.

Writing the AU of one of my own AUs, I discovered that, in my mind, Wally West enjoys the musicians of the summer of love.

Idk why, it just kinda fits, expecially because I dare you to look me in the eyes and tell me that Wally West wasn't made to belt out at the top of his lungs " With your love" by the Jefferson Starship (I know, back in the '60s they were the Jefferson Airplane, but alas) half-jokingly serenading the love of his life.

Writing the fanfic of my own fanfic with music on shuffle and accidentally hearing the perfect song for the mess Dixie is in that story is a preciously heartbreaking thing.

Anyways The Crane Wives might have a stronger chokehold on me than what I previously tought.

P.s. the song was "Allies or Enemies"

https://archiveofourown.org/series/4163446

https://archiveofourown.org/series/4830169

Wow, now there's a bot going around on Ao3 telling people that the "moderators" will delete works from "deprecated" fandoms and impose bans.

Fearmongering bullshit, but it's fearmongering bullshit that seems to be taking advantage of the recent spotlight series in order to trick authors into deleting their fics.

Just. Why.

What the hell does anyone get out of making these bots.

"This fic was ai generated—" Cool, so lemme block you real quick

In my works I often delve into themes such as pregnancies, abortions and parenting and Idk who needs to ear this, but I woke up with the visceral NEED to say a couple of things about it all:

I was born in an extremely religious country in which, strangely enough, abortion was legalised fairly early on. This doesn't actually mean it's easy to access to it, because of society's views on it, that trickle down on gynaecologists as well. About 70% of gynaecologists in my country consider themselves conscientious objectors, which means it is basically impossible to access voluntary interruption of pregnancy, except if the woman's life is at risk (or if you pay a shit ton of money in a private clinic, money that, often enough, one doesn't have). This (sadly) doesn't mean we receive any kind of sex Ed in schools (no, not even the crappy kind often showed in films) or any real help/guarantees for new parents, so basically you just have to pray that the condom won't break, because it's near impossible to actually have an abortion and you have almost zero support if you actually decide to keep an unplanned baby. That said my country is now also trying to make those laws even more restrictives (ex banning abortive pills, prediliging the hiring of doctors, nurses and anestheticians who are C.O.etc.), hiding the way our governement tries to rule over women's bodies behind our rapidly decreasing fertility rate.

One summer, while I was still in high school, me and my friends had to drive for over ten hours to reach the only region of my country where the objectors rate it's lower than 15% because one of my friends couldn't wait two months for the only gynaecologist who performed it in our area.

I was the only other girl in my friend group and, at my friend's request, I stayed with her the whole time. It was a traumatic experience, even not being the one having to undergo the procedure. Half of the nurses treated her like dirt and one of the counsellors (that are hired to help women or, more in general, people with a female reproductive system, in this kind of situations) started ranting about hell and damnation, while gripping my friend's wrist so hard it bruised. I literally had to pry the woman away from my friend and to throw her out, and I only managed to do so when I threatened to press charges.

While I always knew on an abstract level that in other countries, countries extremely close to my own, having access to abortion (or even to a morning after pill) was easy, easier than in my home country and decisely less frowned upon, it was all just news for me and I never really paid it much attention.

Then I left my country and studied abroad for a while and, during this time period, I met my partner. A couple of years later I discovered I was pregnant and I panicked. I was scared shitless because while I love kids, I hadn't planned on having one back then (or even now, to be honest). Even then I thought about it. If I decided to keep the baby I would have had actual support from the institutions, both economical and time-wise so my choice was actually mine and mine alone, not influenced by a frightening lack of resources.

I decided not to continue the pregnancy. I went to the clinic with my boyfriend and the procedure was quick, painless and nobody tried to make me rethink anything by guilt-tripping me with tales of eternal damnation.

I never felt any kind of guilt about it while living there. Nobody was forcing down my troath pro-life Ads or picketing the clinic when I went to do a check up specifically meant for people who had had a "traditional" abortion.

Even now, when I think about a traumatizing abortion, I don't think about mine, but my friend's.

Even now, when I see my nephews or my little cousines faces I don't ever regret having walked into that clinic.

Even then, the tinge of guilt in me resurfaces, sometimes, now that I live in my home country. A tinge of guilt I can't really explain, because I was lucky enough to be raised in a pro-choice familial enviroment. A tinge of guilt I shouldn't feel, because it was my choice (as it should always be) and I don't regret it.

What I am trying to say is that, even if you don't know it there IS a right way to do things and we should all fight to make them available to the largest number of people we can.

Religious guilt is never gonna be the answer.

My country tried to make it as such.

Now our fertility rate is at an all-time low from which I don't think we will ever recover and there are whole generations of women literaly terryfied of falling pregnant, because they do they are gonna lose their jobs and everything they worked for in their lives, without the possibility of actually making a choice on their bodies.

Religious guilt is never gonna be the answer, the possibility of chosing in authonomy for your body and for your future is.

anyone else start getting shaky when someone gets into an interest of yours or is that just me