#lazy author is lazy

[turndecassette2]

[postpendulum]

Damian's new classmate was what most people would deem as strange, Damian however could not see him as anything other than suspicious. Daniel Knight had joined in the midst of the school year, claiming to have moved here with his father Fredric Knight (first area of suspicion, a parent willingly moving both them and their child to Gotham) for a new start following his fathers divorce. The boy was reclusive when not spoken to directly, however he would not stop talking when a topic of his interest would come up. After searching further into his past (as he does with all his classmates) Damian found a relatively normal past, the only outstanding things being a noticeable drop in grades at the beginnings of freshman year relating to an undisclosed accident resulting in lichtenberg scarring starting from Daniels palm, and presumably up his arm being hidden by his sleeve. Apparently this accident left Daniel with irregular tremors and, every once in a blue moon, seizures. Damian had thought about taking this suspicious blockage of information to Tim or the Bat Computer to be bypassed, however the idea of sharing Daniel this cases existence with the rest of his family for some unexplained reason bothered him greatly, so Damian has come to the decision to figure out Knight’s true intentions on his own.

Meanwhile Danny’s just trying to live his new, semi-normal life in peace. After a reveal gone wrong results in some good old vivisection, Jazz Sam and Tucker recruit the help of Clockwork to find Danny a new home, where he can heal from both the physical and mental wounds. Clockwork ends up dumping Danny into the DC universe alongside Fright Knight, who was insistent on going with him, feeling responsible in helping to protect his young prince now since he feels he failed the first time. So with a bit of spacetime razzle dazzle, Tucker messing with stuff he probably shouldn't have messed with and a very tearful goodbye with promises to check in every day, Danny goes off to start his new life as Daniel Knight. It was going ok so far, he took half the year to himself, focusing on healing. Also so Frighty could adjust to the whole pretending to be human thing. Danny doesn't have any friends yet, and to be honest hasn't made the effort to make any (Jazz would be disappointed if she knew that), but there's this one boy in Danny's class who might be even weirder than him. Danny can feel Damian's eyes on him, knows how he follows him around without a sound (Danny really shouldn't be able to tell, he only knows because he isn't fully human(and in a weird way, Danny thinks that's kinda cool)), and whenever they do make eye contact Danny can see and feel the boy fluster and shy away.

Maybe he just needs a friend too.

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[homkamiro]

EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! I need to tell just how running blind fanfiction by @thetriggeredhappy fucked me up

I'm not joking when I say that this is my favourite fic ever made, I literally don't, everything about it is so perfect, so detailed and so emotional,, i cried a lot, i laughed a lot, and I was really amazed by some of the plot twitsts

EVERYONE needs to read it, and if you don't imma bust yo damn kneecaps

[eddis-not-eeddis]

In my early twenties I know more theology than most men in the churches I've attended who are twice my age. This isn't a boast, I am no scholar. I say this in abject horror and despair.

[magpie-trove]

Actually I don’t think you are actually fr an adult author if you can’t write something without a s*x scene in it

[livemedown]

Quick doodles based on thoopsy's fic UNDO UNDO, which I heavily recommend others read! I might have Toilet and MePad brainworms at the moment, but Test Tube's characterization in it is also wonderful!!

[hunterkhean]

Found another Silly incorrect Quotes I Feel like drawing

Here's some other incorrect Quotes

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

[thisbitchcantdraw]

Genuinely tweaking because it’s 4 in the morning rn and I’ve been drawing this all day, literally the second I was free I was drawing.

AND IT TOOK ME 6 HOURS WHATTT

So as some of you know I’m a big fan of a FanFiction made by @theellipelli and it’s epic and great and it’s yanqing and Jing yuan and time travel and family issues GO READ IT IM GREAT AT PROMOTING THIS HAHAH.

So like… I didn’t read the new chapter and I’m scared to do so BECAUSE WHAT DO YOU MEAN TW DEATH??? STOP.. I better not cry

Anyway so I had the idea on what the idea was but I didn’t know how to make it right so I ended up with this, here’s the starter sketch with colour

Now MEGA TRANSFORM RENDER BOOM WOW heheh thank you thank you👏👏👏👏

If you can’t tell Baiheng is drunk and in my head she should be kept at least 5 miles away from any person when she’s drunk

Jinglius hand looks weird but look at yanqing he looks great #neverdoingmysondirty

The atrocious hand grip on yanqing head I head to learn how to draw hand can someone teach me

Ik it’s really hard to tell what’s going on with df and yingxing but I wanted to fit all the quintet in (they are just whispering to each other which is pretty much “bro can we please leave” “nah”) Df is so circle I’m sorry idk what happened I’m tweaking again

Sorry that jy, yq and baiheng look so much better than everyone else that’s the difference between start vs finish

And if anyone is out there “6 hours for that?? Man you got to be joking” well Uhm actually I’m a very slow artist

I think I spent the smallest time on yingxing

But I think I spent at least like an hour on the sketch sigh can I get a pat on the back

ALSO DRAWING THEM WAS SO HARD BECAUSE OF THE SMALL AMOUNT OF REFERENCES I HAD..

I wanted to do cloud night Jing yuan but the design was different from the fic one so I had to live of that one art the author of the fanfic did (go check out her tumblr tagged her above she’s great support her on every platform possible or you’ll die)

Anyway ik not a lot of people are reading this but I would like to thank art Jesus, art God and Beyoncé for giving me the motivation to finish this in one day

Uhm that’s the end make sure to support the author love you all bye,!

Scared to post this second thoughts are gonna be the end of me

[odo-apologist]

Thinking about Out of Time, specifically the ending, which, in my opinion, is one of the best Rimmer scenes of the franchise. It's one of those moments- like his sacrifice for Nirvannah in Holoship or his insistence that Lister burn his soldiers in Marooned as a gesture of friendship- that hint at the potential that he has, deep down, of being noble, heroic, kind. What's particularly interesting about this scene, though, is that up to this point, Rimmer has often been shown as having a fascination with power, with militarism and fascist aesthetics. This is among his worst, most dangerous traits. You see the extreme outcome of it in Meltdown, what I think is Rimmer at his most abhorrent; he is the cause of the death of an entire group of people all because he wanted to live out his power fantasy of being a strategic military general, watching the battle at a distance like he describes in Marooned. Of course, as others have pointed out in their own posts, Rimmer's desire for/adoration of power likely comes more from his desire to be loved and prove he's deserving of love, but its consequences can be horrific. In Out of Time, when he encounters a version of himself that is an *actual* fascist sympathizer/apologist, he is disgusted. He is the one who wants to fight and who says, "Better dead than smeg." Whereas his future self says he would rather die than live like rats as the present crew do, our Rimmer would rather die fighting than live a life of ease and comfort while rubbing shoulders with bloodthirsty, power-crazed dictators.

And I think it's really interesting that the episode before this one is Rimmerworld. The aspect I often think about (that I wouldn't be surprised a lot of other fans also often think about) is Rimmer's 550+ years of imprisonment. It's such a disturbing concept, being kept in solitude for that inconceivably long, that its apparent dismissive treatment as a joke and lack of any real impact on Rimmer haunts me a little bit and I'm glad there are a few fics out there that explore the aftermath more thoroughly. But before he ends up in that situation, he 1. Abandons the others- the seemingly only people who have ever come close to caring about him- to die, leaving them to flee in an escape pod, and 2. Creates a civilization of clones of himself that he clearly bases off of the Roman Empire (a notable inspiration for many fascists). The first is significant because it shows the contrast between his cowardice in that situation and his lack of it in Out of Time. But the second point here, about the creation of his civilization, may show why that contrast happens between episodes, the reason for it. The civilization of Rimmerworld, based on an obsession with power, inspired by what we can assume is Rimmer's own idealized view of the Romans and empire in general, is the same that causes his centuries of suffering. So the next episode, when he sees another version of himself willing to get along with the kind of people like those who imprisoned him (who, albeit, were also versions of him)...I don't know, maybe the events of Rimmerworld did have some notable effect on him after all, at least for a while; maybe that's why he was so sure in his decision that the crew fight even though he knows they'll die trying.

Or maybe I'm just being ridiculous and overthinking things

[blue-cassowary]

Another "Glass Body, Steel Wings" fanart because I'm still not normal about this fic by @devinephoenix

I redrew Ichigo because the first one I did was uhhh not my best

Then showed the backside of his outfit because, why not?

Then another scene from the fic where they do the wild aerial waltz (I based the drawing on two fighting eagles because I still suck at fighting poses)

Part 1 :)

[marimbles]

It seems to be pretty well established that most fanfic authors don’t mind when readers leave comments on old fics and in fact welcome it. But what about authors replying to old comments?

Do readers care in general whether an author replies? Is it expected and seen as rude if they don’t? Is it nice when they do but not expected? Is there a time limit to the welcomeness of replies? Like is it nice if they respond within a few weeks but if it’s been months or years it feels awkward because you don’t remember the fic anymore? I’m curious!

[strangeauthor]

to the ppl complimating how i did Adam's box braids....i have a confession: i just used this asset lol

same for Amandus's locs. just used this pack. lol

[gomzdrawfr]

Evanescence

it's now or never

Prev | Next(?)

also on Ao3 tags: canon divergence, angst and fluff, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence and behaviours, major character death (MCD), mention of MW3 content

38 hours ago...

The tent was quiet, save for the rustling sound of Price working his rifle, clean and clinical, repetitive and comforting as he swiped the cloth across the weapon time and time again. A soldier’s meditation, though tonight it brought little comfort.

Raven sat by the cot, her gaze flicking over the mission dossier for the fifth time, black hair falling in soft waves that she tucked behind her ear with practised, almost annoyed motions. The moonlight filtered through the tent’s fabric and framed her figure, highlighting the tension in her shoulders.

She’d been like this ever since the trip.

Tense, distant, yet always close enough to remind him of the rift between them. 

They were fine, but not fine. They were not arguing, they were not talking much either.

He’d mucked it up, didn’t he? Trying to shield her away only made a huge dent in their relationship. Her silence wasn’t outright anger either, it was worse—calculated distance, the kind you’d use to guard a fragile truce. He would feel her gaze on him, pensive, heavy with thoughts, but the eye contact never lasted long.

Afraid of what she’d find in those blue eyes of his, perhaps.

He’d been wrong to think leaving her on the island was the answer. Wrong to think even suggesting it wouldn’t do damage. He’d only been trying to protect her—his birdie—only to plant a seed of doubt, one that was now growing wild between them.

He hadn’t the faintest clue how to uproot it without tearing them apart in the process.

Feelings. 

Messy things. Unpredictable. Dangerous. 

He’d spent a lifetime building walls between himself and the world. That’s why this—they—were forbidden in the first place. Love was ravenous. It consumed him because he had always been selfish with the things he loved. Tugged at his heart and twisted it into knots he wasn’t trained to untangle. Whispers curled in his mind like a serpent, whispers about a promised future, something soft, something real—things he didn’t have the right to want, much less to keep. 

It was everything John feared. And everything he needed.

Letting Raven in had been a gamble. But then again, it wasn’t like he’d had a choice. The most unexpected encounters soften a man the most, and he’d already carved a place for her in his heart. Trying to push her out now was as fruitless as stopping the moon from orbiting the Earth. 

He’d like to think he’s smart, he is, but sometimes he wished he’s not a dumb fuck when it comes to people he cares.

He sees her place the papers aside. She rubs her cheek, puts down her mask, and turns away, she was so damn composed that it drove him mad sometimes. How she could compartmentalize everything so clearly, yet refuse to bring up what actually mattered? 

Well, the same way he did, he supposed.  

Price had spent years waging wars on battlefields, but this? Fighting his own emotions while trying to mend hers? It felt like wading through quicksand blindfolded. His hands faltered for a moment, the cloth dropping onto the floor. He grumbled as he set his weapon aside, rubbing a hand over his beard as he leaned forward, the creak of his knees cutting through the silence.

I’m not getting any younger, yet here I am, a bloody Captain, tiptoeing around emotions like a lad out of his fucking depth.

Grow a spine, John. You’ve faced worse. Enough of this bollocks. 

Love makes him vulnerable, makes his mind cloudy, makes him think of the person next to him instead of the damn mission. Two of them in a small tent, trying to make sense of something they were never trained for, something that doesn't follow a neat box of objectives and outcomes. 

Price sat up, his heavy footstep thumped softly on the ground as the oil lamp went dark with a twist of his fingers. He moved towards her cot, slow and deliberate, like approaching a wounded cat. 

The cot dipped under his weight as he pressed a knee into it. Instinctively, Raven turned and curled into his side, pressing her face into his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close, planting a small kiss into the black of her hair.

This. These quiet moments were the only time he felt like she truly let him in, when the weight of the day dissolved into silence and the world outside didn’t matter. 

Forget about the mission, the fishing trip, the look on her face when he’d told her he was leaving.

The tension is still there evidently, her breathing steady but shallow, never fully resting. The tension between them didn’t vanish, but it softened here, in each other’s arms.

Price shifted slightly, cradling her close to his chest, careful not to disturb her. Though she doubted she was asleep. She rarely was, not fully, certainly not during these few weeks. Her head rested against his chest, and he felt the faint rhythm of her heartbeat when their chests were pressed together. 

He took a deep inhale, catching the familiar hint of smoke and tobacco from her hair. 

Smoking again.

You’re the one to talk, burning through your boxes like there’s no tomorrow.

When was the last time he smelled that faint lemon shampoo she used to wear? The one that clung to her after long showers, fresh like Summer. Probably before they had to leave it all behind—before Shepherd.

Before one bullet erased everything they’d built together.

He winched internally at the memory, a weight he hadn’t learned to carry properly. That bloke deserved it, but with every fleeting look she gave him, every touch she offered, even with the warmth of her body against his now, they all carried the same unspoken question.

Will you leave me again, John?

It killed him, that doubt.

His hand slipped into her hair, fingers brushing through the strands absentmindedly. He supposed they weren’t completely lost yet, not if she still allowed him to join her in sleep. But time is running out, so will her patience.  

“Tomorrow’s going to be rough,” he mumbled, voice low and gravelly.

I might lose you tomorrow.

Her arms wrapped around his chest tightened briefly before it relaxed, an answer.

Price sighs, placing another kiss on her head, his lips lingered longer than usual.

Can I kiss all your doubts away, love?

Don’t be daft, no time to be soft, got a mission to finish.

Price closed his eyes, squeezing her shoulders softly, rubbing his bearded face onto the side of her neck, smiling at the shiver from her. 

Tomorrow, he promised himself as he drifted into a restless sleep. 

He’d find the right words tomorrow. 

The mission had gone sideways, to no one’s surprise.

A tip-off that was supposed to lead them to their target turned out to be a trap, and they were ambushed. The once quiet jungle was now alive with tension, every corner every sound—rustling leaves, broken twigs, bullets whizzing through the air with commands and screams in all corners. Raven moved like a shadow beside him, precise and silent movement to dispatch the enemies one by one until they were separated.

Price spotted her through the chaos after God knows how long, her back pressed against a tree as gunfire rained down.

And then it happened.

One of the enemies flanked her, she hadn’t seen them. 

His chest twisted with a grief he hadn’t allowed himself to feel as the enemy’s finger curled on the trigger, not for Soap, not for anyone. He wouldn’t let Raven become another name carved into the graveyard of his failures. 

He couldn’t.

Time slowed. Adrenaline surged. Price moved without hesitation, the need to protect her overriding every other thought as he sprinted towards her.

“Raven! Down!” He barked out, tackling her to the ground just as the crack of a rifle echoed through the air. 

Everything else that happened afterwards was a blur, ignoring the white-hot pain ripping through him, Price didn’t falter as he turned his knife on the operator, sinking down into the flesh and slashed. He didn’t stop, couldn’t, not until the enemy was silent, lifeless beneath him.

And then he dropped, the bloody knife slipped from his hand as his strength seeped away through the red, slumping forward as the taste of copper flooded his mouth.

Blood spilled over his lip as he coughed, each breath a struggle.

“Price!”

Raven’s voice was distant at first, her panicked scream barely cutting through the dizzying haze. Her hands were on him, dragging his heavy body away, leaving a trail of red coating the green leaves until they were under some form of cover, her hands pressing into the wound desperately to stop the bleeding. His vision swimming, his hearings muffled.

But somewhere in the confusion, he felt something warm dripping down his cheek.

Raven doesn’t cry, she hated crying, hated the feeling of weakness, a luxury she couldn’t afford in their line of work. But everything from the last trip—the hurt, the misunderstandings, the constant nagging doubt in her mind that refuses to die out, the constant reminder of how fleeting their connection was, how fragile human life—his life—was bubbled to the surface.

The wine glass shattered, splintering into a thousand pieces as the liquid splashed over everything.

Tears pricked at her eyes, spilling over her mask and cheek before she could stop them, each roll of those tears felt like acid. 

Not now not now not now not now not now not now—

“Why are you so desperate to leave me?” the sound of her voice, fractured and raw, the pain in her tone pierced him deeper than the bullet below his abdomen.

“Why…why do you always leave?” Her words spilled out just like her tears did, completely beyond her control as she pressed harder into his wound. The warm blood coated her gloved hands like lava.

Too hot, too much.

His trembling hand reached up to her, brushing against her wet cheek before he coughed again, blood bubbling in his throat. It felt like he was drowning, but he forced the words out.

It’s now or never. 

“Never… in my life… would I want to leave you. Never, Raven…” He swallowed hard, feeling as if he might regurgitate the blood again.

“I just want you safe…”

“Then why?” She demanded, trying desperately to regain any resemblance of composure and control, but it fails and slipped away, just like-

“Why do you keep making me watch you slip away?” 

Price really shouldn’t be laughing, he cracked a pained smile instead. Is this what you think, birdie? Maybe I’m not the only one daft in this relationship.

“Because I can’t…lose you. Not you.” He coughed, the sound wet and strained. 

“I’d rather…it be me….every time.”

Her grip on the nape of his neck tightened as she shook her head furiously. “That’s not your choice to make, John! I’ve told you already—y-you don’t get to decide that for me!”

She heaved, watching his blood on her palm, then back at him, panic and dread coiling around her throat, tightening with each word that felt like a losing game, but she persisted.

It’s now or never.

“I'm not here to watch you destroy yourself trying to save everyone, trying to save me. I’m here because I chose you.” She gripped his neck, forcing him to keep eye contact on her.

“So you damn bloody well choose me too, Jonathan Price.”

John’s eyes widened just a fraction, and for a moment, the chaos around them faded away, leaving only the two of them.

There was no hesitation in his immediate reply. “Always. Over and over…I’ll choose you. I promise.”

Her eyes softened for a fraction before determination hardened her expression. “You better, John. Because I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

She scrambled to her feet, lifting him up despite his weak protests. “You’re not dying on me today, Captain,” she grunted out, her tone brooking no arguments.

He smirked faintly, even if everything hurt.

“Yes, ma’am”. 

Back at their camp, After Price lay bandaged but alive. Raven slumped against the bed beside him, exhaustion etched into her features but her hand never leaving him, resting on his lap, still wearing the bloodied uniform.

Price stirred, brushing a trembling finger against her temple.

“You’re not going anywhere…” he murmured quietly, watching her eyes open slowly.

“Not unless you push me away again…” she replied hoarsely, a gentle warning. 

His jaw tightened as he shook his head. “Never. Not ever again.” 

I’ve made some cock-ups in my time, but none bigger than hurtin’ you. 

I’ll be damned if I let you think for a second more that you don’t matter.

He cupped her cheek, sighing as his thumb brushed her skin. 

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Eira…but losing you won’t be one of them…”

For the first time since they left the island, she smiled, dimples deepening—a real smile, small and slightly crooked, genuine. 

Price couldn’t help the faint chuckle that escaped him. 

“I could bloody murder for a smoke right now…”

“I think you lost them in the middle of the op”

“Bloody hell…” he muttered, shaking his head with half-mocked despair. Raven smirked slightly, stretching out her stiff shoulders.

“We should…go out,” Price said after a moment of silence, reaching out as he fiddled absently with a pale strand of her hair. He wondered briefly if the white strands peeking through the black were dyed or something she’d never mentioned.

There was still a lot between them left unexplored and unresolved. 

“You can’t walk,” She pointed out, patting his bandage gently for emphasis. 

He huffed a quiet laugh. “No, I meant…once I’m patched up, I’ll take you out. Dinner, a trip, whatever you want. We need to talk about this…about us.”

Can’t let another life-and-death situation force out our confessions. Raven tilted her head, a hum of thought escaping her as a flicker of surprise passed through her gaze. “Abusing your sick leave, are you?”

“Not much I can do with a punctured organ,” he deadpanned.

“Touche…” She sighed, not entirely meeting his gaze yet.

“Birdie…”

She clicked her tongue, relenting as she nodded her head. “Alright, alright. Yeah…fine we’ll talk about it and go somewhere I suppose.” 

A wave of contentment settled over him as he leaned back into the pillow, a small smile graced his lips.

I’ll stop being a daft bastard for you, birdie. 

“Where to?” he asked. 

“....fishing?” she offered after a moment, and Price blinked a few times. “...Really?” The corner of his lips twitched slightly in guilt. “I…thought you would’ve resented the idea after…what I did.”

She chuckled quietly, smoothing out her hair.  “Well, we’ll do it my way this time.”

[jesncin]

what are your thoughts on krypton? Both how it’s been handled before and how you personally would go about it?

I like Krypton the most when it's portrayed as a socialist utopia (doomed by arrogance and pride) to better narratively contrast Earth as the flawed planet for Superman to bring hope to. I can't stand versions that portray Krypton or Kryptonians as colonizers or racists or classists. It's just lazy worldbuilding and loses sight of what Superman's immigrant allegory represents, in my opinion.

Personally! I would like to expand the definition of what "an alien utopia" would look like for Krypton. Most of the time Krypton is imagined as "earth but better" but I think a utopia would have to fundamentally change things from the ground up. No capitalism, diversity without segregation, advanced system of genders, different religious systems that co-exist in harmony unlike what organized religion typically does on Earth, etc. That's far more interesting as a concept to me than "Kryptonians are colonizers because we want Superman to be more flawed". I would stem Krypton's flaws moreso in their arrogance and perhaps cultural differences that seem off putting to humans like in Kansas Sighting.

[leafuxxtea]

guess who's back 🥺🥺 (and about to go to sleep)

i wanted to apologize quickly for disappearing like that, and i promise ill answer my asks and interact tmr!! 🥹🥹 hope everyone's doing well <33

but before i go, ill just drop this fanart of @lostxmelody 's fanfic (Parts of a Human, I've talked abt it before but it's. such a wild ride that I will absolutely stay on forever.)

(do i now know how to format panels?? hahahhahaahaa. still no.)