Alfred And Ra In My Series "Robin's Blues" Apparently:

It's strange working on the same series for over a year.

It's strange because the protagonist slips into your bones (she already has my soul, that pours into her with my very breath).

Dixie by now is almost flesh for me.

I guess it's fair.

I made her haunted and she haunts me in return.

I guess it's fair.

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

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.

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.

Honestly I barely know how to throw in a half-decent impagination, but this is really, really useful.

@Fanfic writers:

My friend send me this link, is a series on a profile on Ao3 (tumblr) that has different tutorials to insert things to fanfics via html code, I thought I would share bc it’s really cool

Lists of tutorials:

How to make images fit in mobile browsers

This is a tutorial/live example on how to make large images fit on mobile browsers but remain normal size on desktop browsers.

How to mimic letters, fliers, and stationery without using images

This is a tutorial/live example on how to mimic the look of letters, fliers, and stationery (as well as other forms of written media) without using images. For all your epistolary fic needs.

How to make a “choose your own adventure” Fic

This is a tutorial/live example on how to create a "Choose Your Own Adventure" fic. While this has been explained before (see here), this particular tutorial shows you how to use a work skin to hide the next parts from the reader until they click through to get to them.

How to make linked footnotes on Ao3

This is a live example of how an author can create linked footnotes in their work with only a little bit of HTML and no workskins required. This is best viewed by clicking "Entire Work". While I've included the actual coding in bold and italic once you click "Hide Creator's Style", there's a more detailed explanation here.

How to change text on Ao3 when the cursor is hovering over it (or clicked on mobile)

This a tutorial/live example on how to have text change or appear once a cursor is hovering over it. Helpful for pop-up spoilers, language translations, quick author's notes, etc.

How to mimic author’s notes and Kudos/Comment buttons

Anonymous on tumblr: do you have a skin that would mimic the author’s notes and review/kudos buttons section from the end of a fic? the desired effect being that the fic could go on after the “end” of the fic, so after the author’s notes and review/kudos buttons

Here's a tutorial/live example to do just that, with some of the buttons actually functioning. I'll explain more inside!

How to wrap text around images

This is a tutorial/live example on how to align images to the left or right of the screen and have text wrap around them.

How to mimic email windows

This is a tutorial/live example on how to mimic email windows on AO3 without the need to use images.

How to make ios text messages on Ao3

This is a tutorial/live example on how to mimic iOS text messages on AO3 without the need to use images. There's also a chapter on how to have emojis displayed on AO3 as well.

How to make Customized page deviders

Bored with the default page dividers? This is a tutorial/live example on how customize your page dividers with no images needed (though I do show you how you could use images if you wanted to do such a thing).

How to make invisible text (That can be highlighted)

This is a live example how to make invisible text that can only be seen by highlighting the text. Tutorial is included in text, and you can always leave comments about questions you may have.

MOBILE USERS: Sadly, this probably won't work for you, since highlighting in a mobile browser is different than web. I've tried correcting this, but have yet to find a solution.

How to make a rounded playlist

Original coding and design is from layouttest. I make no claims for it, just tweaked it so it will work on AO3.

How to create notebook lined paper on Ao3

This is a live example of my AO3 skin that allows the author to recreate the look of lined notebook paper in their work. To learn more about it, you can find the tutorial here.

Sticky notes on Ao3 without using images

This is a live example of my AO3 skin that allows the author to recreate the look of sticky notes (aka Post-Its) in their fic. To learn more about it, you can find the tutorial here.

How to make deadpool’s thinking thinking boxes on Ao3

This is a live example of my AO3 skin that allows the author to recreate the look of Deadpool's thinking boxes in their fic. To learn more about it, you can find the tutorial here.

How to make newspaper articles on Ao3

This is a live example of my AO3 skin that allows the author to recreate the look of a newspaper article in their work. To learn more about it, you can find the tutorial here.

This is your periodical reminder to download your favorite fics from ao3 every once in a while!!

Personally, I got into the habit of doing it once a year, when I'm working on my "Favorite" fic recs.

While I'm at it, here's a few tools I use that help greatly with my Ao3 experience!

Userscripts

Here's a few userscripts that I love for Ao3!

AO3: Kudosed and seen history: Highlight or hide works you kudosed/marked as seen.

This is the userscript that helps me the most when making fic recs. While browsing a tag or my history, I can see which fics I've already kudosed and I can decide to skip/hide individual fics (there's other userscripts out there if you want to permanently hide specific tags).

AO3 Review + Last Chapter Shortcut + Kudos-sortable Bookmarks: Adds shortcuts for last chapter and a floaty review box, sorts bookmarks by kudos.

AO3: Estimated Reading Time: Add an estimated reading time to a fic description in hours and minutes.

Calibre

Calibre is an ebook management software. You can download it here. I really love using Calibre to send fics I've downloaded to my kindle, but there's also a function where you can download all the fics in one Ao3 page, or multiple fics URLS, all at the same time. Just last night, I used it to download all my Buddie bookmarks. Super helpful! It also allows me to add my own covers to fics and use them on my Kindle. I love it!

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.

me every time I post something

Letter to my father

I hate the 15th of may.

I had my first cycle on the 15th of may.

It was at your home, not at mom's.

I panicked.

I knew what was happening, and yet I cried anyways.

You didn't say a thing.

Not that it was normal.

Not that it was growing up.

You just rubbed my back and left me some pads while you went heating an hot water bag.

When I came out of the bathroom you were there, ankward, handling me the bag and some painkillers.

You said you didn't know if I would need them.

I felt like a little kid crying in your arms that afternoon.

Like I felt at three years old when you would holst me up your shoulders and the whole world felt so far away (when I KNEW you would be there, and that you would never let me fall).

You were more kid than what I ever managed to be.

It wasn't always a good thing.

It wasn't always a good thing, but you had a levity of living I always lacked.

I never knew how to be a child.

I was always too cerebral, too strange.

But then you would pick me up from school on windy days, a kite in one hand, and I managed to be a kid, too.

Someone once wrote that grief was like walking up the stairs to your bedroom, in the dark, and finding a step missing.

It's not wrong, per se.

Sometimes I find myself wanting to call you, before remembering that your phone sits in one of my drawers, battery dead, and that no-one, least of all you, will ever pick it up again.

I hate the 15th of may.

I hated it at ten and now I hate it still.

But maybe hate too, is just another word for absence.

Maybe hate too, is just another way of saying “I miss you”.