#artists
Edited for all my writer friends out there

Kiana Khansmith
I'd rather be in outer space đž
YOU ARE THE REASON
Misplaced Lens Cap

izzy's playlists!
NASA

No title available
untitled

@theartofmadeline
Fai_Ryy

Origami Around
trying on a metaphor

if i look back, i am lost
Sweet Seals For You, Always
official daine visual archive
h

No title available
Monterey Bay Aquarium
almost home
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Hungary

seen from United States

seen from Russia
seen from Australia

seen from United States

seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from Germany
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom

seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from Spain
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
@jesdrabbles
#artists
Edited for all my writer friends out there
Every morning, the queen asked her magic mirror to show her the most beautiful person in the world.
The mirror replied "To whom?"
"The miller who made the flour for my bread," the queen would say, or "Whoever spun the thread my shawl was made of".
The mirror would show her, and she'd be amazed.
The first time, she says "To me," and the mirror dutifully shows her her reflection. And she is pleased.
The second time, she says "To the King," and she is pleased to see herself once more.
The third time, she says "To the Royal Advisor," and is once more satisfied to see herself.
The fourth time, she says "To the scribe who takes the King's letters." She is shown the man's wife. And she seethes, but quiets herself, for it is only right that a man loves his wife.
The fifth time, she says "To the Court Wizard," and is shown the man's departed mother as he remembers her from his youth, radiant and smiling and warm and larger than life.
The tenth time, she says "To the Stable Master," and is shown the fastest horse in the stable, majestic and free as the wind even in captivity
"To the baker," she is shown the man's daughter, young and adorable and full of joy and laughter.
"To the artist who did my portrait," she is shown a painting of a woman done by the man's teacher, who he still looks up to now that he is well established himself.
"To the Royal Knight," she is surprised but not displeased to see the castle's entire guard force in the middle of doing drills.
The one hundredth time she asks the mirror, and it asks her "to whom?" she once again says, "To me." And she does the same the one hundred and second, and again and again and again.
It is a different person each time, and they are all beautiful.
Tim + his brothers
Dick and Jason came home for the weekend since they lived in their apartments during the week. They heard talking in the theater room and wondered if the guys were watching a movie. As they rounded the corner; however, they found B, Clark and Tim engulfed in watching QVC.
Tim: hurry and pick a color! Theyâre gunna sell out!
B: Iâm trying but I canât figure it out.
Tim: hand it over.
Clark: heâs gotta be able to do this Tim or heâll never know how to use his phone. We can get another color.
The screen changed, the guys snapping their head up. It was snack tray for drink tumblers that went around the top. Timâs eyes glowed as he saw it. He reached across Clark he flew his arms up.
Tim: need it!
B: I still havenât ordered the Panini press!
Tim: forget the press, I need the snack cups!
Clark: we can get both-
Tim: shut up Clark, you arenât even paying. Cups first then we come back for the panini.
Dick, horrified: damn.
Dick: is this what nepotism looks like?
Alfred, from behind: QVC? No. Thatâs just old age.
Jason, confused: then why arenât you up there?
Alfred: Iâm above that, Master Todd. I can see through the dark hole that QVC is.
Dick: why havenât you stopped them?
Alfred, folding his arms in front of him: they have to learn on their own.
Jason:
Jason: Tim just turned 18.
Alfred: but he thinks heâs 80.
Dick choked a laugh.
conversations overheard through the batkid com lines pt 53 (masterpost here)
Damian: you complain that we're mean to you but it's clearly how you prefer to be spoken to.
Dick: *high pitched laugh*
Tim, indignant: no don't- shut up Nightwing, don't laugh at that, that's not what he meant.
Damian: no no, don't worry, i'm sure it reflects how you are in the bedroom as well,
Tim: HEY.
Dick: *laughing louder*
Tim: you can't fucking- you're a child, you can't infer stuff like that about me!
Dick, mouth clearly full: child on child crime.
Tim: shut up- stop eating my breadsticks-
Dick, mouth full: the fuck brings breadsticks on patrol? *fabric shifting* you are way too short to take these off me, give up.
Damian: -look i'm just saying you very clearly don't know how to respond when people are friendly with you on a consistent basis. you're more comfortable being insulted, you like the power play of succeeding under duress and insults.
Dick: *slight cough* to be- to be fair that could just be because he's not used to having friends.
Tim: oh- OH- *supremely indignant* DON'T YOU DARE- if any of us isn't used to having friends, it sure as fuck isn't me.
Damian: *snort* ok then who?
*pointed silence*
Damian: why are you looking at me like- ...
Damian, dry: you must be joking.
Dick: it's alright Robin, you just... weren't in the right environment to-
Damian: I HAD FRIENDS?!?!
Tim, audibly gleeful: cattle doesn't count.
Damian: shut the fuck up- look i'll get Hood on call, you'll fucking see-
Dick: Rob, i don't think he'll answer any texts right now, he's undercover on a case. he hasn't been answering me the whole weekend.
*connecting ping*
Jason, amidst muffled bass-boosted music: yo, you told me to join this line?
Dick: oh you fucking favouriting bitch-
Tim: *cackles*
Dick, instant: -and what are you laughing at, degradation kink?
Tim: *abruptly silences*
Jason: ...what the hell did you just drag me into? i'm in a club bathroom right now Day, i'm literally infiltrating a drug ring.
Damian: i know but this was important, you said you'd always talk no matter where you were if i said it was important.
Jason: yeah, and? you're all on patrol right now, right? do you need backup? i'm wearing silver booty-shorts and a beaded necklace right now, man.
Damian: i didn't need to know that.
Dick: i fuckin' did. that's my brother, ladies and gentlemen!
Jason: yeah yeah, i know you dream of this, don't worry.
Tim: i hate both of you so much.
Jason: so why am i here?
Damian: tell these two imbeciles that i had friends when i was younger.
Jason: ...are you taking the piss?
Tim: Rob come on, you were the prince of a murder cult. i believe you had servants you were amicable with?
Damian: I HAD FRIENDS.
Jason: *considering hum*
Tim: HA.
Jason: well- *annoyed huff* ok, well, he did and he didn't. they were my friends, but they liked him too.
Damian, indignant: they were not just your friends,
Jason: they were- to be fair to Damian, there were kids his age in the compound. some of the new trainees would come in as young as five, as depressing as that is. plus some of the servants and assassins would knock each other up, and Ra's both didn't care enough to have the kids killed, and also didn't care enough to grant maternity leave. so as long as you raised your kids not to get in the way of anything, they were just allowed to chill with the parents around the base.
Damian: see. i had children to play with, not just servants.
Jason: yeah but Damain, they didn't like you.
Damian: *offended noise*
Tim: *slow build of laughter*
Damian: i wasn't- they didn't all hate me,
Tim, through giggling: oh, sweet vindication,
Jason: dude they did. you kept calling them 'expendables' and telling them that your brother could beat up their parents whenever you asked him to. it was- it actually caused problems, because i had to tutor some of those kids and they were too terrified of me killing their parents to focus on learning.
Tim, still laughing: oh my- dude, you were insufferable! you were like- *gleeful* you know what this is? you were essentially the league equivalent of that kid on Roblox who tells everybody his dad is the game dev and he could get you banned.
Jason: *abrupt laughter* holy shit he was-!
Damian: i was NOT-
Dick, also giggling: aw, that's actually so cute though! you were so proud of Hood being your brother!
Damian: shut the fuck up.
Tim: i knew you were a friendless child.
Damian: I WAS NOT- HOOD.
Jason: *laughs* ok, ok no to be fair to the kid, he didn't have friends his own age, but he still hung out with people. i had a platoon of my most trusted subordinates that i worked real closely with after i was made general or whatever, and he hung out with us a lot.
Tim: ok so- that's not him having friends, that's being nice to your boss's little brother.
Jason, snorting: no genuinely, they loved him. these guys were more friends than subordinates anyway--they had to be for me to trust them that much, so they were chill. we used to sneak Day out into the villages around the compound sometimes, they thought he was funny. he shot a dove once.
Damian: SEE. eat shit Red.
Dick: hold on what do you mean he shot a dove- i thought he loved animals?!!?
Tim: i still don't buy it. you are way too antisocial to have grown up in an environment where you had lots of friends.
Jason: Tim, Bruce told me that last week you got so tired of talking to people that you sat in the car for four and a half hours playing on your ipad while he went and took a WE meeting for you.
Damian: *scoff* oh and I'M the antisocial one?!
Tim: ...Hood i thought you were undercover get the fuck off our line.
Dick: WHY DID HE SHOOT A DOVE.
terrible characterization exercise: have your oc go to a fortune teller that can see into the future and other timelines and figure out all the possible ways your oc's life can be like.
lifetimes where they're stable and kind, lifetimes where they chose to give up their lives, lifetimes where they are a pacifist and kill someone for another person, lifetimes where they've rotten to the core and become a different person.
push each one to the brink and have the fortune teller be horrified at the sight. because every single one of those universes are things that could happen from this point forward.
because at the end of the day, at the center of every single one of those worlds...
...is your oc.
sometimes i be saying im gonna go to bed and then i dont go to bed. frequently in fact. this is because i have the heart of an optimist and the soul of a liar
Don't worry the audience extrapolated it back out. You zip the file and communicate it, they unzip it.
This is the best explanation of the reader's contribution to art I've ever heard.
small thing I'd like to add here is that there is no bad fic as long as it's done with love <3
© _ADWills
You know itâs a shame we never get to see CM as a rickety old man (on the outside) because seeing spitfire old man CM would be HILARIOUS
Only I can make the content I want to see.
*throws myself against the floor* *starts sobbing uncontrollably* *rolls around on the floor while still crying* *screaming* *chokes on my own spit* *punches the floor* *breaks my hand* *starts screaming for a different reasons*
Weird and hot take:
Not writing is mental abortion.
Never writing the story is aborting the people who live in your head from being born into the world.
They can live in your head rent free forever, but if theyâre never written, even badly, then theyâll die with you with no chance of living beyond you.
Moral: be narratively pro-life and write the damn story even if itâs bad. Your people deserve to live even if you donât like them.
The âThatâs immoral you shouldnât write that, we need to get that taken downâ discourse on tiktok right now is PISSING ME OFFF
Wdym you want censorship for a literal ARCHIVE are you fucking stupid
Ao3 was literally founded to preserve works that were largely getting taken down due to censorship
Censorship is the opposite of what Archive of Our Own stands for
The TAGS and WARNINGS are there for a REASON. Use them and stop complaining
The universal ruleâdonât like, donât read
Itâs THAT simple
Welp- Zhou Zishu is so done with his man, and it's just the third episode. Everything, literally everything is being said out loud by the fruity af Wen Kexing, and I am loving it. Keep the gayness coming.
'I didn't give up my position and title for this shi-'