🌟 Where do you get inspiration for your writing?

💖 What’s a trope you love and will never get tired of? (also asked by @kindrewind)

in terms of popular fic tropes or what-have-you, i live for missing scene/fix-it stuff. i love to rework a thing from every possible angle. that is my #1 favorite thing about writing any canon. and i am not immune to mutual pining or hurt/comfort (though, ideally, it is often more like Hurt/Catharsis for me).

ALSO, i love basically any au that is extremely well-characterized, which is useful for rp --- like, that's all i care about. i track lana's tag on ao3 (instead of any pairings) and i will read anything that actually sounds like her to me. i find it gratifying to put characters into wildly different circumstances, because i love getting to decide what their universal truths are. what always stays the same? what's specific to their environment and their particular version of history? i'm not a super plot-focused guy, so most specific narrative tropes are kind of whatever to me: i'm much more interested in what you're able to make sense for the character(s).

🌟 Where do you get inspiration for your writing?

i read quite a bit (usually around 200 books a year). i am verrrrrry interested in people, so in addition to the fiction i go for, i read a lot of memoirs. i don't tend to care much who or what they're about (though i am definitely always on the lookout for things that sound in any way relevant to The Characters™ --- that goes for nonfiction in general! i love homework!). i like to read Writers on Writing, too: even if it's somebody whose work is not really up my alley, i think it's interesting to hear about people's processes and habits. pretty often, i'll end up looking at something in a new way, or stumbling onto an easy fix for a problem i didn't know i had, and that's exciting.

ᯓ things done with a cigarette ᵎᵎ

bane - out of commission? pamela - destroyed? truth be told, she'd figured this meeting had been called due to jack's increasing sense of paranoia over these last few months. ( adelaide would know the creeping sensation better than anyone, in spite of his insistence that simply wasn't the case ) the batman was proving to be a far greater issue than originally anticipated; at a far faster rate than any of them anticipated.

nonetheless, he was just that - a man; and men could be puppets. men could be tormented, playthings, fall ill to her poisons.

ash is flicked onto grimm's desk, plume of smoke slithering from barred teeth and directly into her cohort's face. he glowers at her with that hollow stare as he frequently does, sunken eyes and knit brows. ❝ ya want mother to clean the mess. ❞

why, the thought was funny. not that jack would be laughing. instead, he holds up expectant fingers. audible sniff through fully exposed nostrils before she relents her nicotine stick, watches with amusement as he takes a puff so large chest expands to widen his lungs. his stress, mounting, free digits rubbing at forehead. ❝ y'er makin' the right choice. hugo ain't got the knack like me. tetch is all gimmick. ❞ there was a reason grimm and crane had gone hand in hand for so very many years.

🦇❤️🐈‍⬛

she's everything. he's just ken. :)

there is so much sadness, so much grief, interwoven in endings. even when bidding farewell to something bad, something malignant, it is strange to know that what once was will never be again. you can yearn for it, you can plead for it, you can even pray for it. but it doesn't come back. it doesn't return to you. selina's life has been defined by the people she has lost and the people she has left.

except, even when she does abandon him, her and the bat are without an ending.

instead, they linger. of course, they linger in each other's hearts, they even linger in each other's breaths, but what's more is how they linger in each other's silences. after all, your heart can stop beating, your breath can stop short in your lungs, but silence is forever. the silence is for the living and the silence is for the dead, and the silence is for the two lovers who will belong to each other in very way except one they can keep.

the bat can be found in every word she has ever spoken, in every thought she has ever had, in every lover she has ever entertained; and yes, you can find him in the stillness, too. but tonight, where you can find the bat is in the cat's arms. she leads this dance of theirs that is their love, and in this moment, it transcends to a literal dance for them to partake in. their music is the hum escaping in a soft rhythm from her lips. even still, they do not need music nor direction, not truly. their bodies understand how to move together, how to respond to each other in a choreography understood only by them.

as they do what lovers do, the moonlight does not shy away from them. the moonlight knows better than to illuminate them for the rest of the city, though. instead, the moonlight is an ally to the bat and the cat. the moonlight passes them by just so that they may see each other's faces. as if they require any light to know exactly how the other looks. this is their only city, this is one rooftop of many, and it's the two of them, forever, if not always.

for valentine's this year, selina kyle gives bruce wayne a lie. ❛ i'll still be here in the morning. ❜ she thinks it's the kindest promise to offer.

for a girl who subscribes to a healthy amount of delusion, even eve can piece together what's going on here. and she doesn't appreciate it, not one bit! so far, she's deduced it to two possibilities. the best case scenario? jimmy olsen is avoiding her. the worst case scenario? jimmy olsen has already written her off completely. as in, he's discarding her like last month's winter coat, except it's even worse because she's not being retired well-worn. there's no honor in being vaguely admired but never used. especially since eve is a human woman and not a fashion piece!

yeah, this metaphor might have gotten away from her...

before the door of his apartment is even closed, eve is pouncing on him and curling her fingers into the collar of his shirt. it might come as a surprise that she knew how to get into his place, but she thinks they're past the point of stupid questions. ❛ pretending to be dead in gotham? really, @grawl1x? how many times did you think i was gonna fall for that one? ❜ by the puffiness of her eyes, it might be obvious she fell for it one more time. just one last time. she swears it, never again!!

how does she make him get it? that all she'd really wanted was a friend. that she wasn't asking for the world, but she was asking for someone who didn't sound annoyed at the prospect of spending a weekend with her. she shakes her head, furious at herself in ways she can't be furious at him. ❛ jesus, jimmy! if you're seriously not man enough to enjoy shrimp cocktails, I'LL JUST WEAR SOCKS! ❜

cats get scorned by curiosity, women are driven by it. for her part, eve | teschmacher indulges in those rushes of adrenaline that curiosity brings, where she's not sure if the danger she's seeking will get her kissed on the mouth or stabbed in the back. eve plays with fire not because she wants to be burned, but because the potential of hot flames on her skin are worth the thrill in her heart. are you getting the picture yet?

she's looking at poison ivy like she'd send her a "thank you" card for fucking her over, if only to get to feel the heat of her kiss, just once. honestly, is there anything hotter than an evil plant monster? well, yes! kissing an evil plant monster would take the cake. make no mistake, in person, there's no denying that poison | ivy is a total and complete monstrosity. she's more thing of nature than woman of flesh.

case in point: ivy's tendrils press into the glittery softness of eve's skin, and eve gets it. she's not being teased; she's being threatened. the tendrils sting her arms, leaving behind, like some twisted love letters, promises to rip flesh from bone if the desire to do so arises. but eve wouldn't be lex | luthor's girl if she chickened out now!

❛ i would love one. ❜ eve's sincerity is as entirely unhinged as her request. she tilts her head to the side, as though to demonstrate how nicely her face would fit against the plant terrorist's. she wonders if ivy's lips feel parched from the threat of winter that looms around the city. she wonders if ivy's tongue will be prickly, more evidence of the shift in seasons.

she wonders so many things, and she's determined to find them all out.

her eyes, a different shade of green than ivy's body, trace over her target's mouth. the intention is as clear as the desire. ❛ kiss me- i won't mind if it hurts. ❜