#author attempts to art

[lilithrebellion]

The lipstick ad Rejet DOESN'T want you to see.

......There's a lipstick lesbian joke in here somewhere.

[loppy-darii]

Whoops i think i went way too far back in time.

[silawastaken]

remember when I considered posting poetry? *throws at you and runs*

i want to be allowed to live-

another day in the sun,

another ribbon in my hair,

another laugh, another smile, another restless night in june,

to sit and cry is the greatest thing i do,

tears upon tears in the passenger seat.

for love to take root, the pavement must crack

i will blossom,

yellow, or pink, or green,

stubborn and unrelenting at the side of the path you walk

there can be another day in the sun,

another ribbon through my hair, perhaps a flower,

I will smile, you will smile, and we will laugh through tired evenings in may,

there will be a reason to continue, a day like today after the next,

but for a chance to live, experience, to the extent we wish-

There must be change.

Change is the folded covers on the bed.

Change is the progessive clearing of my floor.

Change is your hand in mine.

Change takes time, change takes grey days in march.

Change will change me, will change us, as the world stays untouched,

Yet I will have all I've wanted. I will learn to live, and I will learn to grit and bear it, for another summer, another spring, another Christmas, another show, another song, another dance, another another another until I am so full of experience I can settle, i can breathe, and look back at the people I have changed, for the people who've changed me,

and smile.

If I learn to love, it will be the greatest thing i have ever done.

[crowleysaziraphale2003]

A fic from my AO3, which I both wrote and posted on the same train ride, about eight months ago. Aziraphale asks Crowley what the 'J' stands for. Enjoy! :)

Just A J, Really

"Crowley?"

The demon in question glanced up from his newspaper. He was sat-although sat was never really the right word, was it, not with Crowley-on the sofa in bookshop, opposite to Aziraphale.

"Yes, angel?"

Aziraphale lowered his book down onto his seat, next to him. "What does the 'J' in your name stand for?"

Crowley shot him an incredulous look. "Aziraphale. We've been through this already, in 1941. It's just a 'J'. Really."

Aziraphale thought for a moment. "Well, surely it must mean something!"

"Believe me, it doesn't."

Undeterred, Azriphale looked him straight in the eyes and asked him, "Are you embarrassed of your name, dear? Because believe me, I've been there. I hate that there's such a kerfuffle when people are trying to pronounce my name, hence the whole, 'Mr Fell' thing, of course."

Crowley raised a sceptical eyebrow at him. "Kerfuffle?"

"Yes, it's a word, dear."

"Right. Yes. I know that, Aziraphale. You just use such odd words sometimes, is all."

Aziraphale shrugged, smiling. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Yes, I have."

"No, you haven't."

Crowley scowled at him. "Don't go there," he growled. "It's just a J. End of story."

Aziraphale sighed, but his eyes were bright with mirth. "Whatever you say, darling. But just know that I will hereby be mentally referring to you as, 'Anthony Janthony Crowley.' It has a nice ring to it."

"Ngk. Idiot," Crowley responded affectionately, sitting up in his seat for once and picking up his newspaper. "Whatever. Call me what you wish."

"I will."

Crowley pretended to look at his newspaper, feigning a casual demeanour.

"So, angel," he enquired. "Angels don't generally have them, but you are retired, at the end of the day. Do you have a first or middle name?"

Across him, Aziraphale paled.

"Let's not go there."

[petiolata]

Decided I'll just block people I see tag their art with "not ship art" "don't tag as ship" and the like.

It's not that I care whether it's ship art, or whether the artist intends it platonically or romantically.

It's that it shows a deep, fundamental misunderstanding of how art works. Art is not meant to be interpreted to the exact dictation of the artist. Art is meant to evoke thoughts and feelings *beyond* what the artist intends.

The audience, viewing, completes the experience by supplying interpretations based on their own unique experiences.

If someone doesn't get that, then they're too mentally shallow for me to waste time on their art. Why would I? There's nothing for me in it--I'm not permitted to have my own thoughts or feelings about the art after all.

Viewing art as complete, immutable product that the audience exists only to "consume" without thinking is the mentality that enables the hideous conversion of "artist" to "content creator".

Besides, the artist has admitted they can't clearly communicate ideas or scenes, since they feel the need to clarify something that should be obvious 99.9% of the time.

[catella-ars]

Top row: Young Caspian doodles

The rest: Short introspective from teen!Caspian CW: 1 rude gesture and minor transphobic/homophobic language common of teenagers (at least when I was a teenager a million years ago.)

Gender was always weird for me. But with Charlie, I was just “Casper!” And when he needed me, I could be more. It’s not like the others stopped being dicks. In some ways, it got worse. But they were harder to hear over our shared music.

[oatcakespodofficial]

Eh? Some kind of visual representation of one of my ocs? Well... I suppose, yes.

That is, here's a first attempt scribble of Dyfri, one of our Oatcakes trio members. The poor tired faun can't catch a break.

[irreverentworm]

If I ever came across a fic that I liked and discovered it was written by a bot I would be like, "woah how did you get it to produce such a coherent and well written story"

[wonderful101gecs]

As soon as I started telling people that I'd finished Homestuck, everyone began reflexively telling me that the Epilogues are either Homestuck growing up with it's audience while refusing to pull it's punches anymore, or a final spit of venom from a creator who has had enough of your shit and desperately wants to kill the monster they've created. All of this to say that I am now DEEPLY excited to read the Epilogues.

[attemptingwriter]

Finally getting back into writing my novel.... Granted not the same novel I tried writing when I started this account but maybe I'll actually get through with writing the first draft of this one. I'm really excited about it

[when-the-sun-and-moon-collide]

Depressed Enid during a full moon?

Depressed Enid during a full moon.

Yes this is an upcoming scene in The Wolf and her moon... Definitely need to draw the following scene though.

[lilithrebellion]

Joining in on that one meme.😊

[oshacompliantmagicalgirl]

Dissolving at the edges

[catpriciousmarjara]

Getting a PHD literally anywhere else: Wow! Congratulations! What a great achievement! Amazing!

Getting a PHD in Gotham: Wow! Amazing! You're now on several Government, Civilian, and Bat watchlists.

So if any of the Wayne kids get a PHD, then the entirety of Gotham would be squinting at them suspiciously. They're rich, so resources, and most likely already insane with all the shit they pull.

What I'm saying is if Jason went and got himself a Doctorate in Literature, the whole city would anticipate the appearance of his villainsona called the Dead Poet(emphasis on the dead) or Bookkeeper or something else similarly nerdy and themed like that for sure.

I just know that it would turn into some Gotham inside joke with memes abound, and everytime Jason would, I don't know, give more funding to the neglected Arts Departments in Gotham University, or go to a school for read alongs to encourage kids to read, Gotham social media would go crazy and be like:

"The Dreaded Villain Dead Poet Reads Alice in Wonderland to Children! How Despicable!"

"Villain Dead Poet Lambasts Government on Banning Books! Leads Librarians to Riot!"

"Dead Poet Ramps up his Villainy by Establishing Educational Programmes in Crime Alley! Uplifting the Poor! What a Dastardly Villain!"

"Dead Poet Goes on Live Ranting About his Favourite Books! Favourite Author is Jane Austen! Is this the Feminist Agenda?"

And so on! It's a meme that refuses to go away. His siblings actively participate, and make the situation worse.

Dick held an online Gotham Villains and Anti-Heroes Poll and Dead Poet came out on top, over Red Hood. Jason is an actual Gotham crime boss, but his crowdfunded villainsona is more popular. No he's not salty about it at all.

Duke would create a montage of Dead Poet sightings.

Stephanie would make a Dead Poet meme compilation.

Tim would arrange Wayne Enterprises to donate to local libraries after allegedly being threatened by the heinous villain Dead Poet. (Jason did ask Tim to do that but not like that)

Barbara created an extremely popular Villain Watch account for Dead Poet.

Cass tweeted out Jason's favourite books as the villain Dead Poets reading list telling people to avoid them 'wink wonk', causing a massive uptick in the sale of those books ala Bigolas Dickolas.

Damian of all people tweeted out a pic of Jason playing with Alfred the cat accusing the evil villain Dead Poet of attempting to kidnap his cat.

And thats not to mention all the shenanigans they pull in their batsonas.

God bless Gotham and it's home grown, organic, not even remotely ethically sourced, free range chaos.

[absolutely-esme]

Amity Park is different

Amity Park has a local superhero.

He's great. He works hard to protect his town. That said, Amity's local hero is a teenager. The people he relies on to help and support him are teenagers. The town's superhero defense is a handful of kids figuring things out on their own.

They do good, but sometimes the people of Amity have to be prepared to lend a hand or hold their own for a bit. That's just how life is under these conditions. Communities come together and support each other. It's fine. People adapt. Life goes on. They're really doing quite well.

A class from Amity Park visits a museum in Gotham on a field trip. They get caught in an unfortunately timed Scarecrow attack.

Scarecrow should have known better than to activate the fight or flight responses of a group of Amity Parkers.

The gas canister drops and discharges. The field trip group explodes into action.

A pair of Football players quickly overturns a table and use it as a shield as they charge the goons with the most firepower. Cheerleaders toss each other into the air for aerial attacks. Nerds turn objects from a nearby Janitor closet into a surprisingly effective trebuchet with astounding speed. One girl utilizes impressive martial arts skills.

A boy with Black hair and blue eyes flits about the battlefield pilfering and disassembling weapons with a shocking degree of efficiency as a Goth girl follows him around and bludgeon anyone who attempts to make a grab for him with a stand that had been holding up a rope barrier, and a boy in a beret lays down cover fire by launching pencils out of a makeshift bow formed from a binder and rubber bands with a startling degree of accuracy.

The teacher flits around pulling kids out of the path of attacks they hadn't seen, stowing any injured behind cover, and giving foes solid thwack on the noggin when the opportunity arises. He actually ends up knocking out Scarecrow himself.

The statement "We're not trapped in here with you. You're trapped in here with us," is repeated several times by different people.

When the Bats or police arrive, they have to carefully pull the feildtrip group off of the unfortunate rogues.

It takes a while to get the antidotes administered, but they do eventually manage. The class remains in defensive formation the whole time.

When the kids finally calm down enough to give statements, they mostly just say that Scarecrow gets what he gets for deliberately activating Amity Parkers' fight or flight responses. After the antidotes take effect, the class seems unfazed and goes about their business as soon as the authorities allow.

Some other visitors to the museum upload videos of the event online with titles like "the one class that was prepared for a field trip to Gotham" and "What kind of place is Amity Park, and why haven't I heard of it before?"

It doesn't take long for people to edit the videos to set the fight to music. Popular song choices include Ballroom Blitz, Bring 'em Out by Hawk Nelson, and the "we like to party" song from the six flags commercial.

Now the Bats are investigating Amity Park (and why they haven't heard of it before).

[yandere-writer-momo]

Author’s note: I am stuck in a slump so I’m going to write a guilty pleasure of mine… the body swap trope except this time, with a twist. And of course with the one that got away trope. I adore it so very much like black cherry ice-cream.

Yandere Head Canons:

The Husband Swap

Yandere Shapeshifter x Married Fem Elf Reader x Neglectful Drow Husband

TW: yandere content!! Mentions of smut, dubcon, tentacles, monster fucking, size kink, manipulation, voyeurism, oral, and unhealthy relationship.

Art from Veil Manga

You had been married to your husband, Nikolai Sokolov, for many years. An arranged marriage set up amongst your people as a peace treaty… you, a high elf, wed to a drow, dark elf. And Nikolai was often cold to you… despite how often you attempted to bond with him.

Nikolai refused to eat any of the food you made and he constantly brushed aside your attempts to get to know him. He cared little for this arranged relationship and treated you as if you were some mere commoner, a fact that only made your heart sting.

Nikolai would occasionally share a bed with you, but it was often out of fulfilling his needs. He cared little for your pleasure and only cared to satiate his own.

One day, Nikolai bought you a servant just to get you to leave him alone (outside of sex). A shapeshifter.

A magic collar was bound tightly around their silver neck as a preventative to their ability to shift. They were now powerless and subservient. A trait that most shapeshifters didn’t have since they were quite sly by nature. You wondered what this creature had done to have been reduced to a servant…

Their name was Lev Snegur and they were close in age to you and Nikolai. The shapeshifter was somewhat masculine looking with sharp features and pitch black eyes. A genderless species that never uttered a sound, what wonderful company to have.

You often tried to engage in small talk with them, but they remained as silent as the depth of night. Not a peep left their lips to ever give you input. It unnerved you.

You were very sweet to them and even offered to share meals, but they only stared at you. Talking to Lev was like talking to a brick wall that nodded at times. Lev was an incredibly good listener.

Lev’s company did little to satiate the ache in your heart and the all consuming loneliness. You were so isolated in this empty home filled with bitterness. And you started to accept that you’d never find any warmth with him. Nor would you find solace in your silent servant’s company.

Occasionally you’d wake up covered in a slight sweat, a puddle of dampness below you. The room would always feel of sex, yet you hardly had any of that… but you were always a bit sore between your legs when you’d wake up on mornings like this. Had you been having wet dreams due to your consistent loneliness? Or was there something foul at play?

So it was a surprise when Nikolai bounced into your room like a puppy one morning. His arms wrapped around your side while he inhaled your scent. What on earth was he doing?

“Nikolai?” Nikolai placed a finger on your lips, a mischievous look in his crimson eyes.

“Shh, I have a surprise for you!” Nikolai gave you a bright grin that made you do a double take. You’ve never seen your grumpy husband smile in his entire life. This had to be a dream… you gave yourself a pinch and hissed at the pain you inflicted on your poor arm. Nope. Not a dream.

Nikolai lead you out of the room to where a grand meal was set before you consisting of all of your favorite delicacies. You had no idea your husband even knew you adored such food…

“Do you like it?” His face was hopeful as he took your hand in his. “I’ve come to a realization that you genuinely care for me… so I will treat you better.”

And from that day forth, Nikolai was more attentive than he ever had been. He insisted you should move into his room and he often cuddled with you… it was so odd. This entire situation was bizarre, almost as if this was another person and not your husband.

It was when Nikolai went down on you for the first time that your mind truly began to believe he was another man. When did he learn how to please you and why did he eat you out like a man starved? This wasn’t your husband… this was an imposter.

When ‘Nikolai’ made love to you, he felt bigger. You swore he was nearly two to three inches than he used to be, which made your stomach protrude like you had a baby bump. And his hands ardently grasped at every bit of your body as he could.

It wasn’t too uncommon for you to find your husband sniffing your hair like some sort of animal. You were so scared…

The longer you spent time with ‘Nikolai,’ the more paranoid you became. There were less and less drows around now and your servant was missing… you were starting to become afraid.

But you never were able to get much time to think about it too much since ‘Nikolai’ was always dutifully by your side. There was never any time to ask questions… until tonight. You decided to ask him… for you feared you’d fall off the deep end into insanity if you didn’t.

“Where’s Lev?” You softly asked Nikolai whose fingers paused their dance over your scalp. His crimson eyes glanced over to your face.

“And why do you care so much about a shifter when your husband is here?” Nikolai asked in a bitter tone, but you could see a bit of excitement in his eye. And it made your heart pulse in your brain.

“Well, I miss Lev.” You softly whispered. It wasn’t a complete lie. You did miss your servant who always listened to you, but you preferred his silent company over the overbearing presence of your changed husband.

“Hmm… well, we can go see him if you’d like.” Nikolai rose up from the bed and wrapped a black robe over his bare chest. “He’s in the dungeon.”

You were a bit shocked by your husband’s words. “What do you mean? Lev never did anything wrong-“

“My wife is too kind for her own good.” Nikolai held your chin to pause you from rambling on even more. His eyes were filled with so much emotion, it froze you in place. “It’s what I love most about you.”

You gulped and averted your gaze, your cheeks felt hot.

Lev lead you down the hallway and down the winding stairs to the dungeon, his hand gently held yours. You felt dread creep up into your stomach the closer you went to the dingy dungeon. Your nerves felt as if they were on fire…

And the sight before you terrified you to your core, the angled corpse of Nikolai laid sprawled out on the brick flooring. His lifeless eyes turned toward the door and his mouth agape in a horrific scream forever frozen on his rotting face.

You tried to flee but your ‘Nikolai’ began to shift, slender hands now held you firmly in place while your captor’s face slowly morphed into the bewitching creature named Lev.

“It didn’t take much to overpower him. Your husband was too cocky to notice I figured out how to disarm the collar.” Lev’s voice made your blood run cold from how raspy it was. His voice low and monotonous despite the various emotions that hid beneath the surface of his eyes. “To whack him over the back of the head with a sword hilt and drag him down here. It was child’s play really.”

“Are you going to kill me too?” You whimpered when his grip tightened around your arms. His face filled with concern.

“Kill you? Nonsense, I’d never kill my wife!” Lev began to pepper your face with numerous kisses while his arms snaked around your waist. “I mean it when I say I love you, I love you more than that bastard ever could.”

You try to protest, but you feel something slimy wrap around your legs and give them a squeeze. Your eyes are wide in terror at the black tendrils that snaked around your plush thighs. What on earth?!

“And I can certainly fuck you better than he ever could… I can show you things no other monster could ever show you, so won’t you indulge me? I promise I’ll blow your mind.”