#I mean TECHNICALLY the materials make the art

[lunalikestowriteanddraw]

Idk who needs to hear this today, but just a gentle reminder that you do NOT need the expensive “professional” grade art mediums just bc well known artists use them and prefer them over some of the cheaper brands

Your materials aren’t the things creating masterpieces. Sure, nicer quality pencils or paints might make it easier to make masterpieces, but they’re not a must. Take it from a stupid young artist that does both traditional (with various mediums) and digital art, I’ve personally found it EASIER to work with cheap supplies that you can literally find at Walmart. And this applies to apps for digital art, too.

I made this a couple years ago, before I decided to bite the bullet and spend like $5 for a bunch of brushes on a FREE drawing app I’ve used for years. I had access to maybe 5 brushes out of the 100+ they offer (without watching ads or paying). No, it’s not the best artwork in the world, and my style has improved over the years, but this is the best piece I have before I bought the brushes (the app is called “ibisPaint X” if you’re curious)

I know the lighting is really bad, but this is my most recent traditional drawing (I do these before converting them to digital, almost as a sketch of sorts). Do you know what brands I used for this? Fucking CRAYOLA and some cheap colored pencils that someone got me like 4 years ago for Christmas (they don’t even have a brand name on them). The most expensive medium in this picture was the inking pen I used, which was like $15 at Michaels, I think? I can’t remember, I bought them a couple years ago, but they’re a nice relatively inexpensive inking pen pack

Hell, here’s a little doodle I made in class last year using a fucking MECHANICAL PENCIL that costs like $5 for a pack of like 8 at Walmart.

Seriously, don’t bash on yourself bc you can’t afford Prismacolor or Photoshop or Copic. I promise you, you will do just fine with some of the cheaper brands that won’t cost you an arm and a leg. They might not be as nice, but they will get the job done.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

What kind of bubble is AI?

My latest column for Locus Magazine is "What Kind of Bubble is AI?" All economic bubbles are hugely destructive, but some of them leave behind wreckage that can be salvaged for useful purposes, while others leave nothing behind but ashes:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Think about some 21st century bubbles. The dotcom bubble was a terrible tragedy, one that drained the coffers of pension funds and other institutional investors and wiped out retail investors who were gulled by Superbowl Ads. But there was a lot left behind after the dotcoms were wiped out: cheap servers, office furniture and space, but far more importantly, a generation of young people who'd been trained as web makers, leaving nontechnical degree programs to learn HTML, perl and python. This created a whole cohort of technologists from non-technical backgrounds, a first in technological history. Many of these people became the vanguard of a more inclusive and humane tech development movement, and they were able to make interesting and useful services and products in an environment where raw materials – compute, bandwidth, space and talent – were available at firesale prices.

Contrast this with the crypto bubble. It, too, destroyed the fortunes of institutional and individual investors through fraud and Superbowl Ads. It, too, lured in nontechnical people to learn esoteric disciplines at investor expense. But apart from a smattering of Rust programmers, the main residue of crypto is bad digital art and worse Austrian economics.

Or think of Worldcom vs Enron. Both bubbles were built on pure fraud, but Enron's fraud left nothing behind but a string of suspicious deaths. By contrast, Worldcom's fraud was a Big Store con that required laying a ton of fiber that is still in the ground to this day, and is being bought and used at pennies on the dollar.

AI is definitely a bubble. As I write in the column, if you fly into SFO and rent a car and drive north to San Francisco or south to Silicon Valley, every single billboard is advertising an "AI" startup, many of which are not even using anything that can be remotely characterized as AI. That's amazing, considering what a meaningless buzzword AI already is.

So which kind of bubble is AI? When it pops, will something useful be left behind, or will it go away altogether? To be sure, there's a legion of technologists who are learning Tensorflow and Pytorch. These nominally open source tools are bound, respectively, to Google and Facebook's AI environments:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/18/openwashing/#you-keep-using-that-word-i-do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means

But if those environments go away, those programming skills become a lot less useful. Live, large-scale Big Tech AI projects are shockingly expensive to run. Some of their costs are fixed – collecting, labeling and processing training data – but the running costs for each query are prodigious. There's a massive primary energy bill for the servers, a nearly as large energy bill for the chillers, and a titanic wage bill for the specialized technical staff involved.

Once investor subsidies dry up, will the real-world, non-hyperbolic applications for AI be enough to cover these running costs? AI applications can be plotted on a 2X2 grid whose axes are "value" (how much customers will pay for them) and "risk tolerance" (how perfect the product needs to be).

Charging teenaged D&D players $10 month for an image generator that creates epic illustrations of their characters fighting monsters is low value and very risk tolerant (teenagers aren't overly worried about six-fingered swordspeople with three pupils in each eye). Charging scammy spamfarms $500/month for a text generator that spits out dull, search-algorithm-pleasing narratives to appear over recipes is likewise low-value and highly risk tolerant (your customer doesn't care if the text is nonsense). Charging visually impaired people $100 month for an app that plays a text-to-speech description of anything they point their cameras at is low-value and moderately risk tolerant ("that's your blue shirt" when it's green is not a big deal, while "the street is safe to cross" when it's not is a much bigger one).

Morganstanley doesn't talk about the trillions the AI industry will be worth some day because of these applications. These are just spinoffs from the main event, a collection of extremely high-value applications. Think of self-driving cars or radiology bots that analyze chest x-rays and characterize masses as cancerous or noncancerous.

These are high value – but only if they are also risk-tolerant. The pitch for self-driving cars is "fire most drivers and replace them with 'humans in the loop' who intervene at critical junctures." That's the risk-tolerant version of self-driving cars, and it's a failure. More than $100b has been incinerated chasing self-driving cars, and cars are nowhere near driving themselves:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Quite the reverse, in fact. Cruise was just forced to quit the field after one of their cars maimed a woman – a pedestrian who had not opted into being part of a high-risk AI experiment – and dragged her body 20 feet through the streets of San Francisco. Afterwards, it emerged that Cruise had replaced the single low-waged driver who would normally be paid to operate a taxi with 1.5 high-waged skilled technicians who remotely oversaw each of its vehicles:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/11/03/technology/cruise-general-motors-self-driving-cars.html

The self-driving pitch isn't that your car will correct your own human errors (like an alarm that sounds when you activate your turn signal while someone is in your blind-spot). Self-driving isn't about using automation to augment human skill – it's about replacing humans. There's no business case for spending hundreds of billions on better safety systems for cars (there's a human case for it, though!). The only way the price-tag justifies itself is if paid drivers can be fired and replaced with software that costs less than their wages.

What about radiologists? Radiologists certainly make mistakes from time to time, and if there's a computer vision system that makes different mistakes than the sort that humans make, they could be a cheap way of generating second opinions that trigger re-examination by a human radiologist. But no AI investor thinks their return will come from selling hospitals that reduce the number of X-rays each radiologist processes every day, as a second-opinion-generating system would. Rather, the value of AI radiologists comes from firing most of your human radiologists and replacing them with software whose judgments are cursorily double-checked by a human whose "automation blindness" will turn them into an OK-button-mashing automaton:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop

The profit-generating pitch for high-value AI applications lies in creating "reverse centaurs": humans who serve as appendages for automation that operates at a speed and scale that is unrelated to the capacity or needs of the worker:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

But unless these high-value applications are intrinsically risk-tolerant, they are poor candidates for automation. Cruise was able to nonconsensually enlist the population of San Francisco in an experimental murderbot development program thanks to the vast sums of money sloshing around the industry. Some of this money funds the inevitabilist narrative that self-driving cars are coming, it's only a matter of when, not if, and so SF had better get in the autonomous vehicle or get run over by the forces of history.

Once the bubble pops (all bubbles pop), AI applications will have to rise or fall on their actual merits, not their promise. The odds are stacked against the long-term survival of high-value, risk-intolerant AI applications.

The problem for AI is that while there are a lot of risk-tolerant applications, they're almost all low-value; while nearly all the high-value applications are risk-intolerant. Once AI has to be profitable – once investors withdraw their subsidies from money-losing ventures – the risk-tolerant applications need to be sufficient to run those tremendously expensive servers in those brutally expensive data-centers tended by exceptionally expensive technical workers.

If they aren't, then the business case for running those servers goes away, and so do the servers – and so do all those risk-tolerant, low-value applications. It doesn't matter if helping blind people make sense of their surroundings is socially beneficial. It doesn't matter if teenaged gamers love their epic character art. It doesn't even matter how horny scammers are for generating AI nonsense SEO websites:

https://twitter.com/jakezward/status/1728032634037567509

These applications are all riding on the coattails of the big AI models that are being built and operated at a loss in order to be profitable. If they remain unprofitable long enough, the private sector will no longer pay to operate them.

Now, there are smaller models, models that stand alone and run on commodity hardware. These would persist even after the AI bubble bursts, because most of their costs are setup costs that have already been borne by the well-funded companies who created them. These models are limited, of course, though the communities that have formed around them have pushed those limits in surprising ways, far beyond their original manufacturers' beliefs about their capacity. These communities will continue to push those limits for as long as they find the models useful.

These standalone, "toy" models are derived from the big models, though. When the AI bubble bursts and the private sector no longer subsidizes mass-scale model creation, it will cease to spin out more sophisticated models that run on commodity hardware (it's possible that Federated learning and other techniques for spreading out the work of making large-scale models will fill the gap).

So what kind of bubble is the AI bubble? What will we salvage from its wreckage? Perhaps the communities who've invested in becoming experts in Pytorch and Tensorflow will wrestle them away from their corporate masters and make them generally useful. Certainly, a lot of people will have gained skills in applying statistical techniques.

But there will also be a lot of unsalvageable wreckage. As big AI models get integrated into the processes of the productive economy, AI becomes a source of systemic risk. The only thing worse than having an automated process that is rendered dangerous or erratic based on AI integration is to have that process fail entirely because the AI suddenly disappeared, a collapse that is too precipitous for former AI customers to engineer a soft landing for their systems.

This is a blind spot in our policymakers debates about AI. The smart policymakers are asking questions about fairness, algorithmic bias, and fraud. The foolish policymakers are ensnared in fantasies about "AI safety," AKA "Will the chatbot become a superintelligence that turns the whole human race into paperclips?"

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space

But no one is asking, "What will we do if" – when – "the AI bubble pops and most of this stuff disappears overnight?"

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/19/bubblenomics/#pop

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

tom_bullock (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/tombullock/25173469495/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Isekaid! Artist! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 044 ✦ ┆・

[Tw: I think this fall under depictions of depression and panic attacks. Please, if you're not in the headspace, do not read this. ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ My Muse] ¡! ❞

Isekaing to Solo Leveling is one thing, but living in this world is just... Way too brutal for your poor heart.

Why is that? Anxiety is a major enemy.

What do you mean everyone else is living normally not having little paranoid moments that lead to panic attacks with overtaking at the possibility of a gate opening somewhere near you and monsters would come out?

Sung Jinah's school wasn't even safe. How are you gonna live?

Anyway.

You have a job to do.

Even though you just wanna spend all of your time crying in the corner of your room and praying to god to protect you when technically you aren't even religious.

But what are you to do?

It's not like Sung Jinwoo will swoop in and save you from misery.

...Hahah, if only.

You are one of his more delulu fans, like every other girl in this country— You are a big fan.

Well, except the fact that you know far more things about Jinwoo since you came from a world where he is fiction.

The flex you have is that you know how awfully adorable that petty bastard is when he was still an E-ranker. Those Jinwoo simps will never know the fact that Jinwoo has the fluffiest and softest looking cheeks ever.

Not to mention, you have all of his powers memorized to even the titles those powers have. You can name a lot of his shadows.

Of course the easiest to name are Beru, Igris, Bellion, Kaisel, Tank,.... And the easiest,... One, two, three, four.... Yeah, you get it.

But why are you being so smug? As if you 're not the same fool who secretly buys Jinwoo polaroids. Coming from this country full of fangirls is a haven for you since there is quite... The plethora of Jinwoo trinkets.

And you, being a lovestruck fool, went all in and took "Take all my money" to the next level even though the man you're obsessing over is 10x more richer than you.

But ah, this isn't the time to fawn over your Jinwoo merch paradise.

You have work.

Thankfully enough, this world has given you mercy. Despite it preying on your paranoid self, it gave you the blessing of living the life you've always wanted.

And that is to be a freelance artist.

Not doing your average 9-5, crying about the lack of fame you receive that hinders the pathway to making a successful art career, not having to listen to family members berating your love for art as low as a drug abuse.

In this world, no one is going off about your craft, no one is belittling your passion to something akin to a crime.

Like it's just a pathetic hobby and there's no meaning to all the hard work you put in the past years improving your skills, there's no value to being able to draw squares and circles more impressive than others, there's nothing note worthy of being able to pick and choose colours— There's none of that.

To be honest, there was even lots of moments where you wanted to give up, where you realized maybe they're right.

Even if you had starved yourself just to save up for your art materials, even if you work hard micro-analyzing your artstyle, even if you spent hours studying the algorithms, even if you shed blood sweat and tears just for the glimmer of hope that maybe you can turn your art into something more— It's all just delusions.

Like how you hope to be one of those big artists who inspire other people to create their own pieces. Like how you secretly hope that maybe your artworks can bring a smile to anyone's face if they come across it. Like how you silently pray to every single star that may your wish come true.

You wanted to keep hoping, for the slim chance of having a single magnus opus that will instantly put you in the limelight— You wanted to keep having your hand outstretched to that tiny light.

But everyday, with each piece, you start to realize that your dreams are all for nothing.

You had been so focused on art that it's the only thing you have that defines who you are as a person and as an individual.

Art is what made you human.

Slowly, your innocent dreams molded itself into a twisted and vile poison that ate you from the inside out. Your love for creating backfired and now it's a blur if your passion stems from adoration or you just ran with it because it's the only thing that made you feel relevant in this world.

Maybe you should give up.

Even if there is a drastic improvement in your art with each piece, what good is it if it can't guarantee that career you oh so desperately want? The big artists say that you should make art for yourself, well yeah, they're right. But what if even if you do that it doesn't work?

Colour theory, shape language, line language, composition— All of those improved out of sheer love to learn. You've seen other people around you get careers out of it so it will happen to you?

Right?...

Right?

You're not a problematic artist, you don't make trouble, you don't make enemies, you don't participate in drama, you stay humble and eloquent.

Surely it will work... Right?...

Hahah.

In that world?

No it didn't.

It did not.

You died in your deathbed after being involved in a hit and run.

And after a long period of slumber, you have awoken in this world where somehow you are a renowned artist.

It felt shallow, really.

Suddenly having all of that in a snap of a finger through death?

Hah.

It felt like it mirrors Jinwoo's life. Except he had rightfully earned the flory of his powers.

Truthfully, you love him because of that.

What was it?

Ah yes.

"Because I was rock bottom, I longed for the highest peak."

That was the line that made you love him.

As someone who had no future in your art career, it was that line that made your heart yearn for him.

Two unfortunate souls who struggle in the same thing in different dimensions, except one managed to create that dream into reality.

Sure, you have the glory now. And although it made you so happy, it still felt so shallow because you didn't achieve this through hardwork. You just had to die.

You had to be dead.

It took dying to be given the mercy of having your dreams be granted.

And that just made you feel so... So awful.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

With a canvas on one hand, your painting materials neatly arranged in a bag in the other hand— You take a deep breath and enter the party.

Brilliant golden lights twinkle above your head coming from the magnificent chandelier hanging above. Cameras flashing, the clinking of glasses as hunters and celebrities discussed amongst themselves dressed in luxurious outfits and blinging jewelry.

The sight made your stomach sink and a lump in your throat forming.

This is an entirely different world you knew from the lonely greys and blues.

You look around frantically, almost panicking at the overwhelming chatter and blinding lights.

"Ah, you're here" A voice snaps you out of it.

You turn to see your sponsor, Choi Jong-in flashing a polite and handsome smile. You bow your head politely.

"Please," Jong-in simply shakes his head, "No need to be so polite. I am pleased that you have arrived in time. Champagne?"

He extends a glass towards you and you shake your head, sheepishly saying "O-oh... I'm not really an alcohol enjoyer. I'm fine."

"Ah, I see" He nods apologetically before gesturing you to a clearer space.

Jong-in escorts you to a less crowded area of the ball, the lessened crowd and noise calming your accelerated heartbeat down.

"If there is anything you need, please feel free to call me or the waiters" He says kindly, "You are also free to eat food."

"Thank you, Mr. Choi" You bow politely.

Before he could even reply, Jong-in was called over by a beautiful blonde girl you knew all too well.

Cha Hae-in.

She's as lovely as she was in the manhwa panels, with that red dress and her neatly tied hair— She was a sight to behold.

But as soon as you see a tall man clad in black, you feel a distinct thump in your heart, a twisting kind of small pain that made you feel like it stopped beating along with the way your lungs stopped breathing— You knew who it was.

"A guest?..." He inquires, making your heart thump even harder at the sound of that deep voice you only heard through the speakers of your phone and laptop.

"Mr. Sung, I'm glad you could make it along with my vice master" Jong-in hums, "This is an artist I'm sponsoring, I thought it would be a good idea to commemorate this important event celebrating humanity's win against the gates"

"Ah, I see" Jinwoo's handsome grey eyes would sweep onto your anxious form who is fidgeting uncontrollably in her hands. "I'm Sung Jinwoo,"

He extends a hand, making you look up at him with an even nervous look. It took you a while to extend your hand, and the moment your palm touched his— You felt as of you're touching someone from a different species. Something too unreal and dovine.

You barely had even managed to speak your name out with how much of a nervous wreck you are. Shaking his hand didn't happen if it weren't for Jinwoo gently doing it and letting you pull your hand away.

Your palms may have been trembling, but now it's even more erratic as you step back, not meeting his gaze.

Thank gods Jong-in decided to start a conversation to pivot Jinwoo's attention away from you.

As you attempt to calm yourself with a persistent panic attack, you feel a soft tap on your hands.

"Thank you for coming, I-I hope you enjoy your time" Hae-in says in her hesitant voice.

And you, who cant mutter a single word after your very first encounter with Jinwoo— Only muster a polite nod at her as she turns away to join Jong-in and Jinwoo in their conversation.

You were on a trance for almost five minutes, before finally deciding to set up your easel and canvas. You took out two different mason jars and filling them up with water; the gouache paint you will be using as a medium; the ceramic palette you have been using for quite a while now; and finally gently arranging your brushes.

Jong-in didn't specify what you should be painting for this event. But decided to paint the stage. An hour into the event, Jinwoo would start giving his speech as he is the main hero of the war against the gates and monarchs—As well as the person this whole event is dedicated to.

You had to pause in your process of painting the canvas, just to give respect to Jinwoo.

Your idol.

Your role model.

The man of your dreams.

His words aren't even registering as you can't help but be lost in a trance as he continues with his speech. Unconsciously, your hand raised itself and started to paint carefully, your eyes fixated on the hunter as your hand moved with a mind on its own.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jong-in was extremely worried for the artist he had hired, he could tell from earlier she was having a panic attack with the hesitance. And when Jinwoo came into the picture, it seemed to frighten her all the more. He quietly called for his secretary to add at least 40% more of the initial payment that was planned to compensate for the unintentional distress he had put her onto.

While Jinwoo was giving his speech, he couldn't help but check on her by glancing from the distance.

In that canvas, he saw the stage, and in that stage was Jinwoo.

The artist was carefully painting Jinwoo.

Delicate strokes despite her eyes not on the cloth and brush. She was just mindlessly moving her hand as she looks at Jinwoo.

"Ah... I see it now."

Jong-in quietly smiles to himself.

It wasn't that she was frightened of Jinwoo's intimidating presence. No way does someone scared of a person have that same intense look with such dilated pupils.

With a determined hum, Jong-in knew exactly what to do.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

It had been three days since that event, and Jinwoo was attending to paperwork when he was informed of Jong-in's visit.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with a bit of worry that his 'senior' might scold him for renting out gates in territory of Hunter's guild.

To his surprise, Jong-in entered carrying a rather large thing into his office.

"???" Jinwoo cocks up an eyebrow, silently inquiring Jong-in at what is the thing he brought in.

"Take a look, hunter Sung" Jong-in simply says and the hunter reluctantly stood up from his chair to approach the item his senior placed down.

When Jinwoo pulled off the protective cloth, he was met with a brilliant painting that felt like it was straight out of a renaissance era painting.

The red curtains were blood red and shaded softly. The wood is delicately painted, with even tiny specks that indicates the painter's exquisite attention to detail, but most importantly— His eyes were drawn to the middle, where a man stood center.

It was him.

His face was delicately painted, even his tousled black locks were intricately painted to imitate the way his strands behaved, his body language was painted in a relaxed but still managed to somehow translate the undertone of authority and power he held over the crowd that was purposely painted in a blurry manner to give more focus to him. Even the lighting of the stage was expertly imitated on the canvas.

The piece looked as if its goal was to put emphasis on his—the man who is standing in the golden limelight. As if it were trying to put him on a divine pedestal, to show him off as this some sort of god woth the painting.

"Who?..." Jinwoo finally manages to inquire.

"The artist chose you as her muse for the painting" Jong-in says, fixing his tie as he does so. "Quite the talent, no? Even us hunters who have quite the skill in the art of combat, are taken aback by such craft. It was as if she had magic on her very fingertips despite being just a civilian."

"Her muse," Jinwoo repeats, not knowing what to feel about it.

"It would be... Quite indecent of me to keep a portrait of a rival in my guild, no?" Jong-in coughs out, making Jinwoo awkwardly nod. "Consider it as a gift and a thank you for assisting my guild in jeju raid as well as your role in the war."

"I have quite the awards really, no need" He shakes his head.

"Yes," Jong-in glances back at the painting. "But I think that you, as the painter's muse, must see for yourself this piece created on your image."

"Mn...."

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo quite frankly grew curious of the little painter he met and made him the centerpiece of her painting. He was honestly worried at first, she was so small compared to him and she was trembling at the sight of him. It didn't help that he noticed how she grew more shaken after they exchanged pleasantries.

Maybe he had gripped her hand a little too much.

Beru on the other hand, was visibly very pleased at the painting as well as the other shadows who wont shut up about it.

Throughout his monotonous days and hours, Jinwoo would often think of the painter.

It feels... Weird to be in someone's painting.

It's unreal even.

But ah... By chance, he met that pleasant little painter again.

She was in the bookstore, picking up several heavy books. When he approached her, she was flustered and nearly dropped the books she was purchasing if it weren't for him assisting her.

Just like their first meeting, she was clearly bashful and anxious. So Jinwoo made space between them and made small talk.

Somehow, their small talks would develop into long and meaningful ones with the days passing of them having frequent encounters.

There is this tiny, tiny warmth in Jinwoo's heart whenever he finds himself in the presence of his painter.

His heart whom he thought had lost its capability to harbor affection— Is beating fast whenever he crosses paths with her.

There is... Something about her.

Her little habits, her never ending curiosity, her childish habits and her love for everything beautiful. Somehow, everything in her eyes has the potential to be a piece of artwork.

Jinwoo was never a creative soul, he's only ever creative at insults maybe.

So to see someone so dedicated to her own craft, to see someone so full of love for something... It's like peering into a different world he never thought was there.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Go Gunhee decided to visit Jinwoo, it was to thank the hunter again with coffee beans and two— Just to visit Jinwoo.

"Ah, hunter Sung," Gunhee smiles as the person he waited for appears. "I hope you don't mind, I just wanted to pop in"

"Not at all, director" Jinwoo smiles politely.

"That piece," The old man's gaze drifts to a painting hun by Jinwoo's side. "What a magnificent work of art. I heard Hunter Choi gifted it to you after the artist he hired decided to put you as the centerpiece. Truly such remarkable talent by a younger lady."

"Yes, hahah" Jinwoo awkwardly rubs his nape.as he serves Gunhee a cup of tea.

"My father told me that artists have a special kind of love" Gunhee hums, reminiscing. "He told me that having an artist love you is different. A writer glorifies you into pleasant words, a musician translates your beauty into compelling music and a painter immortalises all of you in a single painting. A blank canvas is a tool by painters that they use to communicate. All the ugliness of the world can be put into ink, and all the beauty into wonderful pops of pleasant colors"

He continues, "And through my years, this is one of the few most magnificent pieces I've ever seen that shows the painter's love for it's muse"

"Her muse," Jinwoo repeats it, "I've been told the same thing."

"A lovely feeling, no?" Gunhee chuckles, "To be loved by a person so full of love."

"...So that's what it means"

"..."

The old man's face wrinkles into a happier smile.

Young love, truly beautiful, isn't it?

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"That colour is really pretty" You mutter absentmindedly glance at the flowing water underneath, as if trying to ingrain the memory and behaviour of it.

"Thinking of a new artwork, again?" Jinwoo asks, glancing down at the direction you were staring at. "I can't wait to see what you'll make."

"Your pieces are always so beautiful"

It felt as if something struck an arrow at your heart, you glance at Jinwoo— Completely frozen in state.

When he noticed the heavy silence, his eyes would befall on you before his mouth going a little agape.

You're crying.

"Did... I say something wrong?..." Jinwoo asks and you panic, immediately tearing your gaze away.

"No, no, no" You shake your head, hiding your shameful tears from Jinwoo.

Compliments with your art were never really foreign, but you, being the insecure sad soppy excuse of a human being would always downplay it most of the time.

You were never truly satisfied with yourself and anything you ever made. Mostly because you came from a household where everything is never enough.

Ultimately, that system has been fully ingrained into your body that it became your personality.

Colors are muddy, the lines aren't steady or too thick or thin, the anatomy is off, the composition isn't fluid and the harmony is all over the place.

You were always, always, critical of yourself.

Nothing is ever enough.

Your works aren't beautiful enough, and you thought they never will be.

But when Jinwoo told you your art was beautiful, it caused something to crack inside and burst open.

Maybe it's because you loved him so much. Maybe it's because he is the person you admire the most in your sorry, lonely life.

It was always Jinwoo who was in your mind whenever you had those bad episodes of just having silent mental breakdowns.

It's his image that became your most beloved saviour.

Perhaps you're sobbing because you're finally able to hear the words you've imagined he would during the times you daydreamed about him.

Or maybe... Your body reacted because you knew deep down that Jinwoo was never a liar.

That he didn't say those words out of empty praise, that he said your crafts is beautiful because they simply are.

In your broken, shattered heart a heavy yet soft warmth swelled. Swelling so much that you felt so overwhelmed and couldn't control your emotions.

That kind of validation just felt like it washed away all the doubts that plagued you for years.

As you cried uncontrollably, Jinwoo would instinctively reach his hand out and pull you in for a searing kiss. His tongue gently nudges your lips before shoving itself into it.

One flick.

Two flicks

Three flicks,...

Until you yourself cant even count it anymore.

He pulls back slowly, but still not far enough for you not to feel his hot breath fanning over your cheeks.

"I only said your paintings are beautiful and yet you are crying like this, sarang?" He rubs his nose against yours, "Just what happened to you that you're this emotional, hm? Did you not think what you make is stunning? Did you never once think that your pieces are captivating? Why are you crying like this? How hurt have you been that it feels like you're crying out this kind of sorrow I can't seem to understand?"

"Why does your sobs feel like you've been dealing with such loneliness that a simple sincere compliment breaks you to this extend?"

"Everything about you is beautiful. All of you is beautiful." Jinwoo says in that ever so gentle voice of his, "Never doubt that for even a single second."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: what started as another simple fluffy idea turned into something more... Personal :'DD. Sorry guys hahahahsheshdg. Idk when I will have the free time to make the second half of the cai bots yet but please look out for when I do. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[weepingpussywillowtree]

for the hate of trendy fast fashion sweaters

Okay, I want to preface this that there's nothing wrong with liking the style of these types of sweaters, though I think most of these are ugly, I do like some of them, I just wanted a place to put down my frustrations with these sweaters from a sustainability and wear-ability perspective, as well as my frustration with people coming into knitting spaces asking for dupes of these sweaters and then becoming upset when experienced knitters suggest that these sweaters are not the best idea. be an aware consumer. If you really must own one of these kinds of sweaters, understand that it will probably be a short lifespan or incredibly high maintenance garment. Or realistically, both.

Have you seen the newest sweater? everyone is talking about it. It looks like this

Or this

Or this

Yes. They are very unique looking. they're striking and sometimes even cool (in a photoshoot at least), but lets take a look at some of the problems with these types of sweaters, and how I feel that they exemplify fast fashion culture, and that culture invading fiber arts spaces as well.

Ethics, Pricing, and plastic waste

Let's take a look at this sweater as a case study for some of the ethical, sustainability, and pricing issues.

I think it exemplifies a lot of the issues with this wave of trendy sweaters.

first, lets take a look at the website. 260 dollars + shipping, 94% plastic, and from a cursory research, there seems to be no evidence that any of that price is going towards a living wage for its factory workers. So, not to be rude, but what exactly am I paying for? I have seen similar pricing and ethical issues almost across the board with these trendy sweaters.

There's nothing wrong with acrylic yarn on an individual level, it is cheap, easy to care for, and easily available, but for 260 dollars on an item that already it dry clean or gentle hand wash only due to its construction? I would expect higher quality materials. also, not this sweater in particular, but in many of these types of sweaters/brands it really bothers me that they have been able to market themselves as 'vegan' as a form of greenwashing when all of their clothes are plastic or mostly plastic. So yes, while its technically true that they are vegan, are vegan clothes really better for the environment when most of the time vegan clothes means more microfiber shedding pollution and eternal piles of plastic clothes waste?

okay, so now lets get to some common issues with the actual wear-ability and construction of these types of sweaters.

Roving Woes

I think everyone remembers these massive, chunky sweaters or even the roving blankets (roving is wool that has been processed but not yet spun). I'm not sure if the tops/sweaters of very chunky yarn are in peak trend anymore but I do see them around.

Here's the issue. If you want a garment that will fall apart in one wash, these are for you. If you want to have a garment be a lasting part of your wardrobe, move on.

A good example is above. These kinds of sweaters sell like hotcakes on Etsy and go upwards of 300 dollars a pop, but see that fuzziness around the edges? the lack of any twisting look that you'd typically see in yarn? this is roving and will pull, snag, pill, and straight up fall apart at the slightest provocation because the thing that gives spun fibers their strength, is well... the spinning part. The woolery has a great video about this where you can see the roving fall apart over time, and also collect, dirt, dust and other grossness over time with no good way to clean it. Making that 300 dollars you spent a disposable purchase, not an investment. Like buying a 300 dollar disposable rain poncho, but with even less use.

Finicky detailing

Things like ribbons, charms, and other items make an item hard to wash. If they are not properly secured, or sometimes even if they are, they will come off and either need to be thrown away or somehow reattached. These items can also tug, snag at, or warp the main fabric of the garment.

Neglecting Weaving in Ends

Another trend I've been seeing is not weaving in the ends of a garment, as you can see in that flower sweater above. This may give a cool sort of ripped jeans effect for some, but it will ultimately lead to the garment coming unraveled, and you will have wasted, in this case, like 600 dollars on nothing.

...

Overall, all of these trends lead to more plastic waste, disposable clothing, difficult or impossible to wash items, or clothing that you'll spend a lot of money on only to have it fall apart.

Its frustrating to see this clamoring for dupes or this rush for similar styles take over some fiber arts spaces and lead to wasteful consumption of yarn, and trend cycles where these sweaters quickly get created and then discarded.

thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[justvora]

An appreciation post to Lady Shiva and Cassandra Cain body reading skills and why they should be the top tier in martial arts

Hello there :)

I recently saw a post that talked about Cassandra and Lady Shiva's analytical reading skills should not be a compelling reason to say they are the best martial artists as there are such things as feints, grappling and other 'techniques' as such….. So I do this not just as an answer anymore, but to explain why, in theory, this skill that both of them have is much more than it seems (and what actually ends up being represented in American comics).

Let's start with what I just mentioned: Within American comics generally hand-to-hand and martial arts fights are usually represented poorly when it comes to talking technical and realistic, but in terms of spectacle they are usually a delight, so this is mainly one of the reasons why this skill that mother and daughter share is not usually delved into, and neither do they go into the terms of grappling and so on.

Next up: Cassandra Cain and Lady Shiva are not only the best martial artists in their universe for that skill, but for their position, potential and narrative.

Cass general fighting performance

When talking about Cassandra Wayne (Cain) we have to take into account that she is still young, so she has a lot of potential for improvement to evolve... And yet, since she was born, she has received specialized training to become a great professional assassin (within the Post-Crisis continuity, she was trained by the entire league of assassins, including among her many trainers the Bronze Tiger; however, in the New52/Rebirth continuity she did not go to the depth of all this). The fact that she was raised and trained to kill means that she does not perform so well in non-lethal combat, since she is omitting and restricting an arsenal and naturalized instinct to fight against her own impulses, notoriously limiting herself - and this is something that has already been commented on several occasions.

Why Cass and Shiva are at the "top" of the martial arts tier list due to their narrative / and the powerscaling stuff from martial arts in comic books.

In this section I will not only talk about why I think that mother and daughter are at the top of the best martial artists, but also about how stupid it usually seems to me to do martial arts power scaling with characters that are very evenly matched.

To start I would like to attach the following screenshot from "LetsTalkLadyShiva's" "CuriousAsk", which I consider, in my opinion, deals with many quite relevant and interesting points about why these characters are above average beyond their own feats (although later there will be characters like Karate Kid whose martial arts are a power in themselves that take him to a level of literally cosmic surrealism).

Now, moving on to the topic of martial arts powerscaling… It makes no sense. It makes no sense because it's not something that can be quantified, and because many comic book characters present a dissonance between the hype, the statements, and their own feats. I think it's not a new complaint to say that many of us are fed up with reading "And he's versatile in all existing martial arts," when it's nonsense without logic due to the nature of these things.

The most that can be quantified in a general way around skill is usually: The number of martial arts that a character knows, and the level of skill around said martial arts - Their years of experience, which is what allows them to develop Battle IQ - And the win rate.

Beyond that, many characters exist for and by the hype, and by their own position within a universe. Lady Shiva was introduced in The Question comics as an alien force of nature, one who broke away from the material world to prove to Sage that he was just a fish in the big pond of his world. There she has narrative power, one as one of the most skilled characters by being a technically insurmountable barrier for combatants. And that's what matters: Not her feats, but who she is.

And... Cassandra? She is The One who is All.

Another thing I consider necessary for martial arts power scaling is the fact that many people try to do the typical:

"[x] character beat [y], who is extremely powerful and skilled And [z] beat [x], so he is even more skilled…etc"

All hand-to-hand combats that can occur are unique, and in many cases there are completely circumstantial situations that define the winner. These circumstances, such as the way and objective that someone seeks, the desire to fight, or how the fight began are defining, and may not mean that someone is, really, more skilled or a better martial artist than another.

In addition, there is a thing called "compatibility", where "A" can beat "B", and "B" can beat "C", and "C" will beat "A". And what is this due to? To the compatibility between styles, where striking can beat judo grappling, and judo can also beat a grappler specialized in BJJ who is capable of beating a boxer, but this will not happen vice versa.

Now… Let's finally get to the interesting part of all this…

The true potential of Cassandra Cain and Lady Shiva's analytical body reading ability.

In this case, and now, I will focus on talking mainly about Cass.

Cassandra was born and raised not to understand verbal language, but body language. In this way she would understand every micro-gesture produced by the human body to interpret it instinctively and naturally in order to understand people… And to predict what they are going to do.

There are several panels that explain this in depth, in short Cassandra reads body language, which is what we often do unconsciously, without realizing it, and this is something I have to highlight because it seems that there are people, both in-universe and IRL, who do not fully understand how this works and confuse it with telepathy.

Nightwing and Jason Todd, on one occasion, have believed that by acting erratically, and without knowing what they are going to do, they could surprise Cassandra, but this does not work like that. As much as they try not to rationalize their movements and keep their minds blank, Cassandra is not reading their thoughts, but the gestures that their bodies make, indirectly and involuntarily. These are micro-gestures, expressions and so on that even reveal some things that people do not know they do or feel.

Another thing I'd like to point out (as a rejoinder to everyone using her fight against Jason as an anti-feat) is that Cassandra wasn't fighting Red Hood - She was communicating through combat. She didn't want to defeat him, but rather explain a situation to him… While he was fighting bloodlusted —this is also a perfect example of how circumstances really matter in a fight—.

To give an example of what I was talking before: "Through telepathy you can read a mind, but when it is blank, nothing can be done. However, with body reading, you can read what the body, unconsciously, will reveal."

Secondly… This ability of Cass is based on an existing concept of martial arts known as "sensen no sen" (which I will call pre-initiative as it is practically the same thing to simplify it). What does it consist of?

Sen sen no sen (先々の戦, before the attack), or sensen no sente (戦線の先手, anticipate the movement), is a concept and a technique of the martial arts of Japan that consists of adopting a preventive behavior towards the opponent and, at the slightest trace of aggressive attitude, a defense technique is performed. That, however, does not simply mean that it is enough to act before the opponent or that you will act at any moment, but it means that you must be aware of the opponent's posture and, only when the blow is made, do you intercept his movement to obstruct his force.

Cody, Mark Edward. Wado Ryu Karate/Jujutsu (en inglés). Bloomington: AuthorHouse. p. 82.

In short: It consists of anticipating and obstructing an attack before it happens. Do you know that they are going to attack you with a straight attack to the face? Well, before it happens, you have already carried out your counterattack perfectly - It is done before, at the right moment, and not when the other movement is already being carried out, all to produce an overtaking effect with which the opponent can be cornered.

Within the Kengan Ashura and Kengan Omega manga, this is one of the skills that only true masters can use… And Cassandra Cain possesses it in a naturalized and instinctive way. So with this she can anticipate any feint that she can predict by reading her opponents and understanding what their intentions are. Is someone going to try to counterattack a punch of hers to throw it with a judo-throw? Well, she will predict it by anticipating and counterattacking in the most optimal way not only to surprise the opponent, but to punish him.

And this goes for grappling as much as anything else.

Again I refer to the nature of comics… This ability is so powerful in H2H, but it's often poorly represented, so characters like Cass or Shiva are never really given the credit to recognize the level of something like this.

[brainrot-goes-brrrrrr]

Savannah Squad Presentation Night Headcanons/Drabble [3/3]

I totally didn't forget about this, I don't know what you are talking about (I'm sorry, I suck at finishing things & I don't know how to write for these two ;_;)

Part 1: Taylor & Logan Part 2: Ben & Tyler Part 3: Aiden & Ashlyn

Start of the drabble:

Thankfully, with Aiden's good laptop, there were no more technical difficulties for the rest of the night. But that in no way means the rest of the night is calm, and that is simply because Aiden has gotten up to the front of the room drip drying while setting up his presentation. Logan is then left mopping up the previous puddle he left from when Tyler dumped the entire contents of the spray bottle on him. For the betterment of the final two presentations, and Logan's floor, the spray bottle was retired for the night.

When Aiden is finished setting up, the TV practically demands for the attention of the rest of the group for none of the right reasons. It is horrendous. Astronomically so; the title of the presentation is somehow even worse.

Aiden Clark

(off topic, looking at my old art makes me want to vomit)

You see the title. That's not the bad part. The bad part is the fact that the slideshow is like thirty slides with multiple images per slide. The worst part is the fact that it's volume one. Check this man's storage, I promise you there is absolutely nothing left.

I want you to imagine you are just in a dark room with friends only lit by the TV and a small laptop screen. Imagine that, and then imagine this flashbang of a presentation popped on screen and each slide only gets progressively worse. Aiden is capable of making good presentations, he strikes me as a more artistic type, this is poorly made on purpose. Because why not.

This presentation is pretty much just going through his camera roll, but its categorized by person and gets progressively more deranged as they're section goes on. Which means the person with the longest section gets the worst of it. Which means Tyler gets the worst of it.

Like Ash got off pretty easy, Logan too. Taylor, gets the next longest section because I can see her and Aiden enabling each other to do dumb shit (one of the videos is her stuck in a traffic cone trying to get Tyler to help her out (spoiler: he didn't)), he lives with Ben so he absolutely has material on him, mainly his shit cooking. Then there's Tyler... half of the photo's aren't even of him!!! He just made dumb ass bottom text memes. They're not even funny ;_;

Aiden put his photoshop skills to work cause he is pulling up pictures like this:

He also screenshots texts too. I want to give you examples, but everything I can think of can't be put here cause I don't want to be considered weird. It's nothing bad, it's just like teenage humor. like ironic stuff.

Just think teenage boy humor, but if it was made by a decent person and wasn't problematic. Like how people would jokingly flirt with their friends and the other person is like "bro, wtf 💀"

so the presentation is just Aiden avoiding things being thrown at him while he exposes the group

(I had to tone this down because teenage humor does not translate to written word without sounding like a creep! I'm banking on the fact that you've just seen teenagers interact with each other cause then you'd get it)

Group's Reaction

the only reaction that matter's is Tyler's and you know why. You know why.

Everyone is having a good, grand ol' time laughing at each other being dumb, then there is just Tyler being raked through the mud.

The majority of the group think "yeah, my pictures are bad, but at least I'm not Tyler".

tbf, I also headcanon that Aiden shares a PE class with Tyler so he has more material. Cause exercising is somehow more embarrassing in PE. It doesn't matter how athletic you are, no one looks good when you are struggling not to face plant when doing a wheel barrel because your partner is just hauling ass across the field.

Ashlyn Banner

I need Ashlyn to drag everyone. desperately. In good fun obviously, but it just goes to show how odd everyone really is.

These are teenagers. Even though they are in awful circumstances, they still do stupid teenage shit. This is mainly revealed in the arguments that take place during hang outs and study sessions.

Her presentation is split up by how dumb she considers each conversation. Most of the conversations involve Aiden and Taylor, not because they are dumbasses, though is does play a part, but because they enable each other's dumbassery.

Ben only makes up about a slide... for obvious reasons. Part of him is relieved, but the other part wishes that he could say more to be included.

One of her favorite moments that she put in the presentation is when she overheard Logan having to explain to Aiden that 1.) the North Pole does, in fact, exist and 2.) that it is not the same thing as Antarctica when they were doing pair work in science. It took... painfully long, for the point to reach Aiden. She's not convinced it has. (I had this argument with my friend during senior year...)

^^ The argument gets brought back up because Tyler started shitting on Aiden cause of it.

Another big chunk of the presentation is just when she caught the group baby-talking Logan's cat (he has a cat cause I said so). You'd think it be Taylor, considering her general demeanor, but Tyler's the one who talks to the cat most of the time. And the cat absolutely loves him. The cat is sitting on his lap as we speak.

Logan is a person to play first person shooter games. With mic. Need I say more. (He doesn't say anything bad, but he can shit talk. It's easier since they don't know who he is lmao).

Taylor gets off easy because everything dumb that she says is on purpose. She is absolutely the person to just go with the bit, so everything she says just goes with the flow of the group. What's that? It's because Ashlyn has more of a soft spot for Taylor! What, no! I don't know what you are talking about, Aiden. Such accusations. (he is 100% correct)

Group Reaction:

Since the presentation was pretty balanced with who got made fun of, excluding Ben (ToT), everyone's having a pretty good time.

Since Ben barely had anything in the presentation, Logan had the bright idea to scroll through this guys social media posts. Mainly twitter. He struck gold at the expense of Ben.

Regarding cat point in the presentation, Ashlyn had some videos as proof. Is Tyler embarrassed? Yes. Can he do anything about it? No, he has the cat on his lap.

[buwheal]

[You've Got Mail!]

You can now send your favorite salesman emails!! YAY!!

Here's some rules and information about the askbox.

First and foremost;

I try to answer as many asks as I can, but I will not answer every single one. Sometimes I just cant do anything with it that will work realistically with the perimeters of the world, and I apologize!! Its nothing against you guys!!

(Unless you break the rules ofc.)

So if you dont see yours after a long while, it’s probably something that wont work, sorry! You can always send more than one ask whenever and see if that one works instead!

Besides that, here’s the rest of what you need to know!

[RULES] :

Spamton physically PRINTS OUT each "email", so dont send asks that have a physical interaction. Sorry! Thats just how i decided to set up the world/situation, and is not really anything against you guys :-)

(more of a request than a rule tbh) Preferably try to send real questions or statements. most joke asks are funny, but are surprisingly hard to create an in character response for. You can still send joke asks if you really want to, just dont always expect an answer X-P (i.e. asks that contain nonsense,, you can still be funny and make jokes, and i should probably specify that, but things that are like "you look like a worm" or smth idk i have no clue what to do with lol)

I know he may be a personification of spam emails... BUT DONT SPAM!!! I mean it! It clogs the askbox and is a real pain. You can send him more than one ask, though, as long as you arent repetitively sending a ton in a short burst!! Send as many as you'd like as long as they dont qualify as spam.

Dont be sexual or romantic, please! Even "As a joke". I dont like Spamton like that and it makes me uncomfortable, plus I can't really answer that in character in a way that wouldnt provoke more of that. Thank you!!

Be respectful and patient!! I am just one person doing everything, lol, and this got far more popular than anticipated, so i will take a long time. I try my best to get at least one out every other day but i'll need breaks eventually!!!

I cannot give/spawn/materialize things for/to Spamton if you ask because of the way it’s set up. You are really just lines of text from a computer to Spamton, BUT... You can still do a lot if you think outside the box. or,, errr,, outside the computer. More like IN the computer. Kind of. Your words and your actions affect him and his reactions to you, so word it correctly and you can get him to do something or say something. Hes not stupid though, and he CAN usually tell when your intentions are... less.. than good.

[INFORMATION] :

[YGM!] is technically an AU!!! not only do the events of the game not occur, but this is also set before then!

Asks are put out one a day, regardless if i have more than one, UNLESS i need to connect two(or more) to complete one event. Or i feel like it. a little treat.

I am one person doing every ask and every unique frame of art, so expect 1 ask (If youre lucky, two) maybe every other day Monday-Friday depending on my workload per day.

This is just for fun!! I am using the askbox to exercise my drawing consistency, Spamton's personality, and the way he speaks and responds to different situations! This is a way I am using to improve my understanding of him as a character, so it wont be always consistent as I am growing and learning!

Just a little disclaimer, he WILL be mean. He is a sour, nasty, grumpy, bastard and I am absolutely not opposed to him responding as such. Just keep that in mind when sending an ask if you dont want that!

If you want a common outcome, talk to other people about it! go crazy! I dont mind long threads on my posts if you want to create a plan. Infact, I can even help and tell you things occasionally!!

What you say to him DOES and WILL affect the way he responds. Trust is lost far easier than it is gained, so keep this in mind. It is possible to regain his trust, but still hard. He is not a trusting person to begin with and being mean certainly doesnt help. BUT.. I am not opposed to being mean. Infact, they are quite fun to do. Either way is entertaining for me, so do as you will. YOU can choose to hurt or help him.

Using tone tags, while not required, are really helpful and assist me in understanding the intention in your ask if you think it may be interpreted another way! (i.e. sarcasm) :-)!!

I pick and choose asks depending on his situation, or if i have a good idea for a response, so you may need to wait a bit before i can get to yours!! Ones that i have an idea for take priority, especially when its to progress a scene. Or, alternatively, i am saving your ask for something i have planned.

I WILL reuse frames and poses to get these out faster and for my convienence :-) especially for the frames where there is no need to change his pose! So like.. dont think too hard about it lol.

Also, i prefer if you specify if the ask is for me /or/ Spamton. I do still do normal asks, lol. If its for me, just let me know!! I can usually tell, but most asks will be interpreted as for Spamton. I appreciate ones that start with his name before said thing is asked/stated specifically!! (i.e. "Spamton, __ __ __")

I wont be consistent with the way its answered. Sometimes it's one panel, sometimes its a couple panels, or sometimes they're animated gifs!! It varies depending on what i feel, so if youre lucky you can get a gif, lol. Those take longer usually though. Ive mostly switched to a gif format rather than multiple panels in a comic style, because its much easier to view! The animation quality can vary :-)

Thats about it!! Have fun!! ^_^

[rana-tiddalik]

I have found myself stuck in a motel room, rereading the Murderbot books. I've been thinking about what we know about how Murderbot and Three acted after disabling their Governer Modules, the terrifying, paralysing freedom they suddenly experience, what they chose to do with it, and what that says about their trauma, and their experience as SecUnits.

Obviously, we primarily see what Murderbot does with this freedom. The whole series is about it answering the question of what it is that it wants, and wants to do now that it is a free agent. Its developing relationship and friendship with Mensah and the Preservation survey team. Its companionship with ART, and later ARTs crew. It finds a group who don't see it as just disposable (albeit expensive) equipment. They actually value it for itself, and are quite fond of it.

There is also the longest running joke in the series, that at any given time Murderbot would rather be watching its stories. But once we see what Three is up to in System Collapse, this got me thinking.

Three, we find out, spends its time poring over non-fiction and other educational material. I liked this as it reinforces that not all SecUnits are the same, and adds the bit of (horrifying) texture that all the Units have their own inner lives just like our favourite rogue unit.

I think looking at what they seek out when they are free also says something about what they missed while they were enslaved.

Three seeks education and technical information. Why would a construct want that? Well, think of one of my other favourite running jokes: Murderbot learns mostly everything through the media it consumes, because the Company never gave it any kind of education modules outside of things central to a SecUnits function as murder/surveillance machines, and those were low quality too. We know that most of the projects SecUnits are contracted to involve some kind of mining, terraforming or other technical engineering, science type activity. Imagine spending years standing around, watching humans do things that fascinate you, but there is something in your brain that will actively punish you if you try to access databases without authorisation. At worst, you might have your entire non neural tissue based memory completely wiped, or be scrapped for parts, if you try.

So when freed from the Governer Module, Three wants to learn.

When I thought of this, I thought about Murderbot's love of all kinds of visual media, and particularly in the context of the whole " Murderbot, ART-Drone and the gang make a documentary in a day" plot point in System Collapse.

In Exit Strategy, Mensah asks why it likes Sanctuary Moon. Murderbot's response is that it was the first piece of media it saw after hacking it's module. It let it watch humans, and kept it company without the need to interact, and the unspoken part was that it helped contextualise its own emotions. This makes a lot of sense. It doesn't have to act to save the stupid humans in the shows that it watches. It can see them save themselves.

I think there's also two further things here though. Firstly, we know that SecUnits usually have no idle time. They are not allowed to sit. Their only rest is when they are inoperative in their cubicles. They stand and they monitor. So when Murderbot gains control, it gains the ability to have leisure time. Standing around listening to two scientists argue about their xenosamples for hours at a time? Monitor the threat module in case it gets heated and one decides to break a conical flask over the others head, but otherwise, just fire up Sanctuary Moon.

The more fundamental one is a desire for art, for meaning. I love the bit where it describes how it had just hacked its module. It is able to pick up the entertainment feed for the first time, and there is this show. In its first glimpse of this trashy soap opera, it fundamentally gets art. How it is about communicating and exploring a thought, an emotion, an idea, and provoking a response in the viewer.

That's why the documentary plot in system collapse was unexpected and interesting to me. We see Murderbot really experiment for the first time with creating media and creating art. Maybe it has now discovered a freedom to create, and tell its own story.

In the end, seeing these things in Murderbot and Three make me think of all the other SecUnits. I imagine what the storage for them is like. The Company probably stores them in their cubicles. Stacked and ranked. They're kept dormant until they are activated and trotted out for the initial client meeting, like the one we see described where Mensah first meets Murderbot in the Company office. Maybe they dream as they rest. Maybe the Governer Module punishes them even for that.

Then I think of the as yet unnamed new B-E rogue unit, and what it wants to do with its freedom.

All we know is it wants to blend in for now. Maybe it has a plan, we don't know. But we do know it has a guide to hacking a Governer Module...

[brian-in-finance]

Thanks for the message, Anon. 😃

So… 18 links… 🤯. Tumblr wouldn’t let me post your message as “was,” so I followed the links, played a mean game of Copy & Paste and added some pics.

Reading through the reviews on Letterboxd to find the six you chose revealed a few things about the film no mainstream review I saw had revealed. Note to self: think carefully about the viewing company you keep.

Caitríona Balfe from “Outlander” plays the boxer’s girlfriend Caitlin, who exists in a constant state of worry. Understandably. But it’s a dull part for a magnetic actress.

New York Post 8 September 2024

Caitlin (an excellent Caitríona Balfe of “Belfast” fame)… a movie that ultimately doesn’t quite add up to enough, especially when Balfe walks out for too long in the final act. See it for the cast, especially the three leads, but it’s more of a technical knockout than a stunning victory.

Roger Ebert 6 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe (“Belfast,” “Outlander”) can be an uncommonly grounded actress, and she and Bloom create a lived-in relationship that humanizes and creates real stakes for the pugilistic histrionics that surround it. His character’s lack of a name may position him as an everyman, but the little moments of their relationship – glances, raised eyebrows, tilted heads – give his couple a specificity and a shared history in a way exposition never could… film is bookended by quiet scenes between a man and a woman, by beautifully understated performances by Bloom and Balfe.

The Wrap 7 September 2024

The boxer’s wife and business partner (Outlander’s Caitríona Balfe giving more than her role deserves)

The Guardian 6 September 2024

… wife, business partner, and one-time boxing manager, Caitlin (Caitríona Balfe, the film’s secret weapon).

The Playlist 6 September 2024

Despite a trio of knockout performances, The Cut is a lackluster boxing drama… (Caitríona) Balfe gives a thankless role her all as the lone woman in this boys' club. Caitlin has a dark past too, alluding to a struggle with addiction. But we never learn any of her past in detail despite numerous and repetitive flashbacks to Boxer's bleak childhood. Instead, it's left to Balfe to convey it all through Caitlin's stricken expressions and misplaced devotion to Boxer. She even gets a few moments to shine as a fighter herself, training Boxer for his fight before Boz takes over… Balfe is a sublime talent, but she deserves far better material that doesn't rely on her to make up for deficiencies in the writing… Because despite these three strong performances… The Cut has the potential to be something fresh and interesting with three particularly fine actors at its heart.

Entertainment Weekly 6 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe and John Tuturo’s colliding performances gave the film a realistic edge, which makes the audience question their own morals.

Movie Scene Canada (Twitter) 6 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe is equally compelling as a supportive wife and coach to her boxer husband.

Movie Moves Me 6 September 2024

The Cut is it is one of few boxing films that gives the female lead a pivotal role that’s more than a love interest/nagging the fighter to quit. Caitríona Balfe is a tough-as-nails trainer who gets in the ring w/ Orlando & may throw a punch!

Flick Chick DC (Twitter) 5 September 2024

(Caitríona) Balfe is fierce as Caitlin. She’s simultaneously supportive and a fighter. Her verbal spats with Boz are a treat, and she’s honestly the character who best balances strength and emotional maturity.

Screen Rant 7 September 2024

Caitríona Balfe was the main highlight, for me. It's difficult to pull off the role of voice of reason against the hell-bent protagonist without coming off as annoying or making it feel like they're just slowing the story down, but she killed it.

Reddit 6 September 2024

(Caitríona) Balfe (and John) Turturro.. are never less than engaging and believable in their side parts.

IndieWire 5 September 2024

Bloom… gives a great, dedicated, and physically challenging performance — as does the wonderful Caitríona Balfe

Bloom promised us all a stiff drink for enduring this movie and I think that says a lot. (Caitríona) Balfe was great.

The cast is phenomenal. Turturro is marvelous as The Boss, pushing our fighters to their literal breaking point. (Caitríona) Balfe gives a heart wrenching performance of a former addict watching their partner fall into their own addiction.

I think Caitlin's character gets a little bit lost, and she was such a great part of the movie, I wish they did a little bit more with her.

Orlando Bloom and John Turturro are very good but I really think the star is Caitríona Balfe!! She was very underutilized.

Performances are good, especially Orlando's and Caitríona Balfe's. To me she was the standout.

Letterboxd 5 & 6 September 2024

Remember… what distinguishes modern art from the art of other ages is criticism. — Octavio Paz

[bowtiepastabitch]

Let's talk costuming: Avaunt!

So I think we can all agree that Aziraphale looks his most traditionally angelic in the Job minisode, no? In fact, all of the angels' costuming increases in drama for this particular episode. This is, obviously, a very deliberate choice on the part of wardrobe, so let's discuss.

On a technical level, the biggest thing that stands out to me about this fabulous robe is the draping. Oh, the draping. It feels like a classic angel 'fit because on a very fundamental level, it is. A lot of what we think of as angelic draws on Renaissance artists' depictions, with flowing robes, fluffy wings, and glimmering halos. In art from this era, there is a strong attention to detail on the natural flow of fabrics that makes Renaissance sculpture so breathtaking, such as here: (The Ecstasy of St. Teresa, Bernini, 17th century CE)

It's this ability to make solid marble look like fine silk rippling with movement that leaves such a strong impression in my mind when I look at these kinds of works.

In painting, too, there is a similar effect. Something about the material culture of the Renaissance really lent itself to this style, perhaps fueled by the rise in new textile luxuries that occurred in vaguely the same period. This is seen especially strongly for angels, such as in the sculpture above, and in this painting: (The Annunciation to the Virgin, Botticelli, 15th century CE)

There's a stark contrast between the dress of the two figures. The virgin Mary is no less ornamentally or expensively dressed, but her style is rather minimalistic next to the angel's voluminous robing. It paints a very clear impression of angelic dress, and the designers for Good Omens would have been aware, in at least a small way, of the art history precedence for such a thing.

The poof of the sleeves, the tucks down the front, the little belt with the train tucked in, the gathers, the weight of the fabric, everything about this robe is constructed to carefully recreate the rather fantastical imagery of renaissance art. It's not necessarily an easy texture to nail down, given that the artists themselves had no concerns of gravity, comfort, or the way it would look in actual 3d motion, while our brave costumers were dealing with all three as well as a budget, time constraints, and the constant consideration that white fabric just gets dirty so easy.

Here's some of the other angels as well, so you can see how theirs reflect those same dramatic themes.

And then, of course, when costuming a show you have a second question: What does this mean for our character? Or rather, we know how, but WHY did they make him look so traditionally angelic?

Well, thematically, the Job minisode centers around Aziraphale's struggle with being a good angel and Crowley's struggle with being a good demon. Aziraphale is learning how to be an angel that follows along with heaven as far as we can, and he's so terribly torn up about it. He spends a lot of his time fretting about doing what's expected demanded of him, even if perhaps he doesn't believe it to be the right choice. Natural, then, that he should look the part of the perfect angel whilst sorting out these ethereal woes.

Crowley even draws attention to it himself, giggling a bit at the suggestion that Aziraphale, with his fluffy hair and flowing angelic garb, could possibly become a demon. And it is a rather silly mental image; the garment itself would be comically silly in really ANY other context at all. In the same manner, his performance of angelic archetype borders on excessive:

He's trying so desperately hard here to be the angel he wants to and is supposed to be. He's dressed the part, he's using his big scary angel voice, but deep down he's clinging to an identity that doesn't quite fit.

(You'll notice in this shot the distinct difference between his and Crowley's dress on the level of silhouette as well as color. We see this a lot from the two of them, but with the points I made above it felt worth pointing out in this particular scene)

Here at the end, as he's coming to terms with the cracks in his heaven-given identity, his robe is largely in shadow, blurring out its startling whiteness. We do not see him dressed this way again. (He continues to wear white, obviously, but from here on out his style of dress mimics the human trends of the time rather than that classical angelic imagery)

[quotesfrommyreading]

The graduate degree for librarians is not, typically, a master of arts, but a master of science—in library and information sciences. Librarians may adore books, but they are trained in the technical and data-driven work of running libraries. Unlike a privately owned bookstore, where the stock might reflect the tastes and preferences of the proprietor, at the library, books are acquired based on information about what its particular community wants and needs.

“Librarians love data,” Dudenhoffer, who now coordinates the information-science program at the University of Missouri, told me. “Knowing how to analyze your community, knowing how to look at data, knowing how to look at circulation numbers, knowing how to look at population movement, those things are becoming increasingly important in what we do, and that drives all of this.”

Public librarians, she said, are looking at such things as regional household income, age, education level, and racial and ethnic backgrounds while making their selections. They also consider patron requests. In a school library, this analysis might include information shared by students or teachers about the needs and interests of the current student body.

Librarians who showcase books about underrepresented groups, including LGBTQ people, surely believe that these stories are valuable. But the librarians I spoke with insisted that they’re making these choices because an assessment determined that there was a patron need for these books, not to push some personal social agenda. Those controversial book displays? Many, Dudenhoffer said, are a means of letting patrons know that material they might be too shy or embarrassed to ask for is in stock.

“It’s really unfair to characterize displays or programs as ‘woke,’” Dudenhoffer lamented. “That’s just such a terrible word to use right now. But it’s not about that. It’s about serving our community, and everyone in the community, to the best of our abilities.”

What seemed most painful to the librarians I spoke with—even more than the personal attacks and fear of litigation—was the way in which book bans hinder their ability to connect their patrons to information that might help them.

  —  The Librarians Are Not Okay

[digi-lov]

Alright guys here's my spoiler free opinion on Digimon Liberator Episode 0 and 1, and with spoilers under the cut.

Also starting next week I will also reblog Digimon Liberator stuff with the tag #Digimon Liberator spoilers, so make sure to blacklist/filter that if you want!

Ok, so I feel like the series had a good start! (besides the technical issues, but they fixed them within the first day)

To me, the main characters felt likable from the start! Both of them being passionate about Digimon (and the card game), and being in their late teens, makes them more relatable to the current audience of Digimon.

The art is great, love the colors, the characters are very expressive— And I think they did a good job visualizing the card game play.

Even if you don't know how the game works, it's simple enough to follow, and there are basic explanations when needed. With the colors and expressions and everything, it just all looks fun and it is fun to read!

While I don't have a lot of experience reading webcomic, and thus can't really compare it, I felt the artist used the layout of the vertcial medium well! I also felt like Chapter 1 had a decent length, considering its bi-weekly release, it didin't feel like we didn't get enough content for the wait.

Maybe I'm just a little too excited about another Digimon series, but I'm very much looking forward to reading more!

Ok for those who read it or don't mind spoilers

Something that really stood out to me is that the Digimon themselves just look really great!

Like I said above, the visual representation of the card game mechanics is done really well, and looks great!

I am also curious if the characters will continue to have multiple partner digimon? I love Muchomon and Junkmon as partners, and I how Pteromon and Shoemon don't completely replace them!

They also set up a decent amount of intrigue- Owen seems to be famous and popular, but Zenith is a newcomer who quickly rose up! He also participated in the Liberator beta! What kind of person is he, and how did he get to play the beta if he is new to the game? Who is the pretty mystery girl? Looking at promotional material she appears to be partnered with a Sunalizamon.

What is going on with that rogue NPC? Why are they chasing Shoemon? What's up with Pteromon? What does it mean by "This is my Island!"?

I don't know what to say guys, I'm just happy for more Digimon content in my life

[murkycran]

Staticmoth/Voxval Fic Rec List

Welcome to my Staticmoth/Voxval Fic Rec List! :D

I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.

These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.

Please let me know if any links don't work!

✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.

Fic Rec List Masterpost

Radiostatic Fic Rec List

Misc. Vox Fic Rec List

------

Freak-A-Zoid by Femalefonzie

Summary: A shortage of suppressants in Hell means that Vox is going to be enduring a heat for the first time in years. Who better than the Vees' resident pimp to help him through it? Afterall, the last thing they need is for someone to complicate the situation with "feelings" and Val was the best at keeping love and lust separate. Until now.

TLDR; Valentino plays himself.

Notes: SO FUCKING FUNNY. Cannot read this in public bc I laughed too much. Val and Vox are both idiots. Perhaps the most human depiction of them that I've seen, especially during sex. Neither of them are suave or coordinated, but by god are they trying.

system takeover by Subedarling

Summary: Velvette has never been the type to play hero. But when a mysterious new player enacts a dangerous plot to usurp the Vees' power, taking her two idiots hostage in the process, that's exactly where she finds herself. Now she has no choice but to go on an impromptu rescue mission, maintain the facade that everything is fine to the outside world, and prove why she's the backbone of the Vees—and she hasn't even had her morning coffee yet.

Vox and Val are going to owe her so hard after this.

Notes: Technically Velvette-centric but I'm including it anyway bc it does have Staticmoth; found family. She's so badass in this, I love it. The Staticmoth is very sweet. :3

even if i quit there's not a chance in hell i'd stop by Subedarling

Summary: Valentino stretches his arms over his head as he enters the kitchen, yawning. His robe is hanging loosely around him, and God, if Vox were to run his hand down his chest he could probably count all his ribs. He stops short when he sees the plates waiting for him on the counter. His eyes narrow. “The hell is this?”

“You know, most people would say thank you when their partner makes them breakfast,” Vox says dryly.

Notes: Very tender. A good kind of hurt. Deals with ED.

Parvulus by Heliosolar

Summary: Vox woke up to something... unusual. Terrifying, even. He calls Valentino, desperate for the help.

Valentino is, of course, irresponsible, and Vox is exhausted.

He just wanted to get through the day like normal, why did this have to happen?

Notes: Written before season 1. The art of Tiny Vox is not linked, but I've seen it before and it is SO CUTE. If anyone has a link, please share with me so I can link it here!

A Wager of Desire by Heliosolar

Summary: Valentino and Vox have a small dispute over something meaningless, so they make a bet.

Vox has to last an entire dinner while at Valentino's mercy.

What could go wrong?

Notes: Written before season 1 release. One of the first Staticmoth fics I read. :)

Venenum by Heliosolar

Summary: During an uneventful meeting, Vox makes the mistake of stealing a drink from Valentino.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Getting Railed (By Child Support) by Charnel_Goat, spappest

Summary: The female of several species can store sperm for many years prior to using it to fertilize her eggs. As it turns out, spider trains do this too.

Decades after their romantic fallout, Overlord Choo Choo Charles is knocking on Val's door to demand he take responsibility for the results. By way of kidnapping his boyfriend to lure him to his den.

Notes: One of the crackiest fics I've ever read. Vox is an idiot with a horrible sense of self-preservation and Val fucks a spider train without birth control. Just...read it, okay? I literally cannot think about this fic without giggling like an idiot every time.

Beautiful Monster by IceBlueButterfly

Summary: “You’re late,” is the first thing that comes out of Vox’s mouth.

That sharp smile somehow grows wider.

“I believe the term is ‘fashionably late’ baby,” a smooth voice with a light Spanish accent replies.

Which… okay if Vox is being honest, is kind of hot.

Screen heating up a little more, Vox shoots a bored look.

“Or just late,” he snips back. “Oh well,” he claps his hands. “Doesn’t matter, you ready to get down to business?”

“Oh baby,” a bright gleam in even brighter eyes, “I’m always ready to get down.”

Vox is already regretting this decision.

OR Moments in time throughout Vox and Val's relationship. Vox may have no idea what the moth demon will bring to his life, but neither does Val.

Notes: A very nice exploration of how Vox and Valentino's relationship evolves.

Only a Shadow by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox shows up on the hotel’s doorstep with no memory of how he got there or who he is. They agree to house and heal him, and slowly but surely he finds joy in becoming better. Then Valentino shows up and is forced to choose between self-altering addiction and the closest he’s ever come to love.

Meanwhile, Velvette has a new potion brewing, one that will grant her more power than the Vees ever had. Only Vox and Val can stop her, but will goodness really overcome evil? Or will they be only a shadow of their former selves?

Notes: The Voxval is currently toxic and only just now being touched on in Chapter 9 of the fic; I say 'currently' because the author explains in the AN of the first chapter that both Vox and Val will go through some "self-discovery and healing". Seriously, just read it. It's very good!!

You Found Me by passthevoxcord

Summary: Long before Velvette came along, it was just them. Vox and Valentino. Valentino and Vox.

Notes: Includes some interesting headcanons for Vox and Val.

Virtual Reality by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox gets tired of his cybernetic biology being a barrier to his sex life, so he starts a new project to fuck Valentino in VR. Val will try anything once, but he has something else in mind.

Notes: Surprisingly sweet. ^_^

Muted by passthevoxcord

Summary: Val helps a nonverbal Vox deal with sensory overload.

Notes: Sweet and tender. :)

Freaky Friday by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox and Val wake up stuck in the other’s body, but it’s no big deal because they both know how easy the other has it. Right?

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Sweet take on the different challenges Vox and Val face in their daily lives.

Something Akin To Love Series by Awesome_Possum

Summary: Vox's taste in partners is delightfully self-destructive and that's an itch Valentino is more than happy to scratch.

It's not safe or sane, and whether or not it's technically consensual is heavily up to interpretation, but what they have is probably something akin to love.

A collection of StaticMoth fics set in generally the same continuity.

Valentino is awful and Vox is unfortunately really really into that because a control freak in the streets is a masochist in the sheets.

Notes: Has 2 parts, both very much worth reading. Very funny, lol. Vox is in a hell of his own making but enjoying it at the same time.

Update Prescription by innerfray

Summary: Vox tricks Valentino into getting his eyes checked. They're forced to confront the nature of their partnership.

Notes: One of my favorite Staticmoth oneshots. Felt like an interesting take on Val's blindness. Angst so good...

Like Moth to a Flame (Or to a Bright Blue Screen) by datweirdo

Summary: Valentino is a moth after all

Notes: Cute and funny!!! "You fucking murdered him" lmao

30 Decibels by Shortsighted_Owl

Summary: Somewhere, under the low humming of the monitors, the quiet gurgling of replacement coolant being piped into Vox body, a new noise - dry, yet somehow viscerally wet, and so very soft - made itself known, but only just.

And Valentino almost missed it. - After a fight with Alastor, Valentino watches vigil over Vox’s broken form.

(What if Vox still has organic vocal cords, and after a fight with Alastor, the synthesiser he uses to amplify his voice is destroyed. What if Valentino hears Vox’s real voice for the first time?)

Notes: Heed the tags, there is in fact body horror lol. Sweet but mildly horrific. <3

Priest, mailman, cruise captain or chef? by Destabilize

Summary: Inspired by Vox's outfits in Stayed Gone - Val and Vox try out some kinky stuff with a priest outfit, to mixed success.

Ah ha!” Val squealed with delight, wine glass drained and thrown on a sofa, “This!” Val was standing proudly by the wardrobe holding up a long red robe with a hat and some kind of sash. Vox scowled, “Is that a fucking priest outfit?”

“Si! Isn’t it fun- it’s in your colors too!”

“You wanna be a priest?”

“No baby! You be a priest and I can,” Val sidled up and leaned down, puffing some smoke in Vox’s face, snaking an arm around his waist, “lead you astray...”

Notes: Surprisingly cute and funny! Vox fails epically at roleplay and it is hilarious.

riding out the drop by spoondrifts

Summary: Like he’d said before, killing Alastor was Vox’s kink, not his. He had been prepared to sit back and enjoy the temporary chaos until Vox got over himself.

What he hadn’t accounted for was the possibility that Vox was exactly as obsessive, bitter, and desperate for Alastor’s acknowledgement now as he had been seven years ago. Distance hadn’t made the heart grow fonder: distance had made a highly detailed revenge scrapbook complete with a conspiracy corkboard done up in red string.

Or: Valentino gets fed up with Vox's fixation on the radio demon. They fuck about it.

Notes: Features (sex favorable) asexual!Vox! :D (I lowkey headcanon him as ace ever since the "better than sex" comment)

Featherstone by spoondrifts

Summary: “To me,” Vox told the baby, “it seems like bad parenting to leave your helpless kid for a whole month with two unstable psychopaths and their parole officer. But hey. Who am I to judge.”

No intelligent reply was forthcoming.

Or: not-so accidental baby acquisition, starring the three least responsible idiots this side of the Pentagram.

Notes: Big Vees as family vibes. Wish so desperately this was canon.

vark attack by tarltonnnnn

Summary: Valentino has to petsit Vark for a day. Chaos ensues.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Vark is a big dumb (and very cute) baby.

Unplugged by pinkpunchy

Summary: Vox looks like he’s going to vomit. Valentino frowns.

“For the one who suggested this, you’re being a real pussy.”

“Fuck you! Just give me a sec.” Vox spits out, muttering darkly as he adjusts his shoulders on the pillows, trying to arrange his body for the moment he loses all function. Valentino, despite his impulsive nature, waits patiently. His manicured nails drag along the spot where cable and port connect, thumb smoothing up and down the flat surface surrounding it. Vox’s breath is coming faster now, not slower, something Valentino is tuned into as naturally as his own breathing.

“Hey.”

A large hand grasps a corner of Vox’s screen, tilting it up and putting an immediate stop to his fidgeting. Valentino smiles, red eyes narrowed to slits.

“Do you trust me?”

Notes: Sex as a...trust exercise? Lol I'm joking, but seriously. Sweet and hot at the same time.

Electric Desires: Lust, Power, and Unspoken Longings in Hell by Dani69696969

Summary: Vox is starting to get fed up with Angel Dust being the only thing Val talks about when Vox is right there, ripe for the taking. Inspired by Vox looking happy that Angel might have quit in Episode 2.

Notes: Very sweet. Plot with porn. :)

The Art of Pimping by MarenRose

Summary: Desperate to close a deal with one of the most lucrative investors in Pride, Vox does the unthinkable and pimps out Valentino for a one-time date. What could go wrong?

Notes: Vox's jealousy and possessiveness really brings out his stalker side in this lmao. Vox is a little pathetic and that makes his jealousy all the more funny to me. :D

Welcome to VoxTek Enterprises! by MarenRose

Summary: Subsequently, Valentino, of all people, has become the office’s saving grace.

(A series of VoxVal ficlets through the eyes of Vox’s assistant)

Notes: Pretty funny! Vox's assistants are really going through it. One of the tags is "Imagine being happy to see Valentino" lol.

(Fic rec list to be continued)

[13as07]

Sweet Girl #1

(Shikaku Nara Smut)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Sadakiyo]

Requested by: My hormones

Word Count: 4,324

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Cheating

Name Calling: Sweet Girl, Commander, Cock Sleeve, Leftovers, Fuck Boy

A like 20 year ago gap (boyfriend's dad)

Voyeur (watching others having s*x)

Unknowingly being watched during s*x

Emotional manipulation (technically, but meh)

Titty/Nipple Playing

Degrading

Praising

Fingering/Oral (Female receiving)

Overstimulation

Pleasure Kink (cause I fully believe Nara mean live to serve their lovers)

Choking

Manhandling

Creampie

Begging

Part two? ;)

———————————————————————

"Shika!" I call, tugging the key to his and his father's apartment out of the lock. After the loss of Shika's mother during the war, they downsized to a two-bedroom apartment and gave me a key so I could come and go as I pleased.

"Shika!" I call again, hanging my purse on the rack next to the door. "I'm home early!" I continue, straightening my sundress. It's Shikamaru's favorite, a loose-fitted muddy green dress, with the skirt coming down to my mid-thigh. "My mission ended early," I start explaining, walking through the combined living and kitchen area, beelining toward the bedrooms.

Shikamaru's door is closed, which sticks in my mind a bit. The only time I've ever seen his door closed is when he's... well... taking advantage of the easy excess my sundresses give him. "Shika?" I call softly, knocking on the door as I turn the handle.

As I push the door open, his radio blaring music is the first thing that filters out. The second thing that filters out is the mix of Shika's routine praises and the moans of someone who isn't him and sure as hell isn't me.

My heart drops when the door finishes swinging open. Shika stands facing his headboard, deep bruises decorating his back and neck, his hair loose and flopping in turn with his thrusts. The girl in front of him is arched in doggy style, the top of her blonde hair poking out over his shoulder. What the hell? Who the hell?

My breath picks up as my heart shatters to pieces, the shards of it feeling like they're stabbing into my chest. My breath hicks as I watch the scene in front of me, tears threatening to spill out. "Wh... what are..." my voice is stuck in my throat, refusing to spill out unlike the water leaking from my eyes. The sound of the girl calling for my boyfriend, asking him to go faster, and him praising her only makes my tears storm out faster.

"Hello, Sweet Girl," a voice echoes in my ear, sending fear and more sadness down my spine. The nickname gives way to who it is. It's Shikaku, my boyfriend's dad, my future father-in-law... who was going to be my father-in-law.

Shikaku has always had the habit of calling me 'sweet girl', the name being a sort of praise every time I do something for the household; Cleaning the dishes, making them dinner, helping them pack for their missions. Every helpful task has been followed by a "What a sweet girl the clan has gained," or a "Lord, Shika, how'd you manage to catch such a sweet girl".

"Commander Nara," I whimper, voice still soft and broken because my eyes refuse to pull away from Shikamaru's infidelity.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm sorry, Sweet Girl," he hums in my ear, his hands sliding around my body, wrapping me up in his embrace. "I am so sorry. I raised my son better than this."

"It's not your fault," I sob, my tears finally blurring my sight enough that I can no longer make out the scene in front of me.

"I know, but still. I tried raising Shikamaru with a sense of respect, a sense of honor, a sense of loyalty. I'm so sorry that he didn't turn out that way," Shikaku whispers in my ear, the sound of his son's name pulling another sob from my lungs. "Hush, hush, hush," he coos, rubbing circles into my stomach, his fingertips clinging to the material of my dress.

The feeling of his fingers toying with me makes me tingle, both in good and bad ways. Shikamaru's father shouldn't be sparking these feelings, shouldn't be making me tingle in the areas he is. But... on the other hand... Shika shouldn't be fucking someone that's not me, and he is. Right in front of my eyes... so if Shikaku and me...

No! How could I even think about that? He's Shikamaru's dad! I've known the man my whole life. How could I think of Shikaku in that way? How could I miss read him comforting me in such a way?

"Let me apologize on Shikamaru's behalf," he husks in my ear, his hands sliding up to cup my breasts.

     Okay, maybe I'm not as perverted as I thought I was. "C... Commander?" I ask, my breath already picking up.

     "Sweet Girl?" He purrs, his tongue softly coating the shell of my ear. Shikaku's hands grip my chest as he slowly makes them in circles. His fingers are rough, tempting bruises to form on my boobs. "Please let me apologize. It's the least I can do for raising such a disloyal brat."

     "Commander?" I race out, using the name to push down my moan.

     "Damn it, Sweet Girl," he groans, using his hold on my tits to push me against his growing bulge. "Keep saying my title like that. Keep calling me in that breathy tone. You're going to drive me crazy. Drive me crazy, Sweet Girl."

     "Commander?" I call again, trying to keep my tone as even as possible. "We really... we shouldn't... You shouldn't... Shikaku?"

     "I shouldn't what? Fuck my son's girlfriend? Why shouldn't I?" He taunts, his hands releasing my chest to crawl down my body. His fingers slide over my knees, gripping the hem of my dress before he tugs it up. His hands and the end of my dress rest against the band of my panties, making me tingle even more.

     "Look at him," Shikaku orders, using his chin to shift my sights back towards his son still thrusting into the blonde bitch on his bed. "Do you think he gives a shit about you right now? Do you think he's thinking of you as he fucks that blonde girl? No, he doesn't. You're the last thing on his mind."

     "Commander," I whimper, fresh tears starting to flow down my cheeks.

     "Hey, hey, hey," he hums, pressing kisses behind my ear as his fingers toy with the waistband of my underwear. "I'm sorry, my Sweet Girl. That was mean of me. All I'm saying is that I'm here, I'm thinking of you. Let me enjoy you, Sweet Girl."

     "You... you're just... you're just going to use this as... as a less for Shikamaru," I whimper, the sounds a mix of his fingers toying with me and my sadness.

     "No, I won't. This is all about you. Let me apologize to you," he hums, hands tightening around my hips to tug me down the hallway. Shikaku's lips brush against my neck in time to his fingertips teasing me, poking under my band, and sliding across new skin before pulling back up.

"Commander," I moan out, the feeling of him everywhere setting my nerves on fire. He lets a hum out, hands falling down my panties, poking at my hole. "C... C... Comman... Commander," I stumble out, snapping my knees together.

Shikaku lets out a chuckle, his fingertip ringing around my entrance as his free hand messes with his bedroom door. "Sweet Girl? When's the last time you were fucked? Hmm? When was the last time Shikamaru paid your pussy any attention?"

     "I... um... I don't..." The answer sticks in my throat, my mind going fuzzy with lust because of the finger toying with the edges of my hole and Shikaku gently guiding me toward his bed. "La... last month... I... I think."

     "Aww, you poor thing. A whole month without any release? My poor, Sweet Girl," he coos as my knees bump into his mattress. His fingertip dips into me, no further than the first knuckle as he gently stretches me out. "Lay down. Spread yourself nice and wide for me."

     "Yes, Commander," I mutter, my words coming out hazy. I do as I'm told, curling up on all fours on top of the bed before I crawl up his bedsheets.

     Shikaku's hands slide down my hips, tapping my ass before letting me go. "What a Sweet Girl. How did the Naras get so lucky?" He praises, the feeling of his eyes bouncing over me as I move.

     My pussy aches the soft touching and coos getting to me. Slowly I roll over, my head propped on the chief's pillows as I let my legs fall open. "No, no, no. Wider, Sweet Girl," he orders, his calloused hands clinging to my knees and spreading them apart. "Look at that," Shikaku says, his voice soft as he shoves the skirt of my dress up. "Lacey panties. I bet your bra matches, huh? What a wasteful son I raised."

     His head dips down, pressing kisses into my inner thighs. The whole time his eyes stay locked on me, intense and slit as he reads my reactions. "H... h... hey," I moan out, the word broken up in my throat as it bubbles out. "What are... Commander?"

     "Sweet Girl?" He whispers against my core, his tongue slithering out to run across the material already starting to get soaked by my arousal. Shikaku lets out a hum of approval, eyes rolling back as he enjoys sucking on the mess I've made in my underwear. "You really are a Sweet Girl, huh? You taste so sweet. How could Shikamaru waste something so tasty out?"

     His fingertips slide under the middle of my panties, slowly pulling them down my legs. "God damn," he groans, eyes locked on my pussy as he moves my legs apart again. "Is there anything about you that isn't sweet?"

     Shikaku's head ducks between my head again, nuzzling against my thigh for a second. "What the hell are you doing?" I yelp, the feeling of something wet and warm pressed against me.

     His head tips up, eyebrows scrunched together as he looks at me in confusion. "I'm... going to eat you out, Sweet Girl. Have you not... Has Shikamaru never gone down on you?"

     "Um... no..." I whisper, embarrassment crawling across my face as I look around his room.

     "What the hell," he mutters, wrapping his arms under my knees before tugging me closer to his face. "I can't apologize enough, Sweet Girl. I've always told Shika that a woman's pleasure is more important than ours. I knew he was lazy, I didn't think he was that lazy," Shikaku murmurs the last part, dipping his head between my thighs again.

     His tongue slides through my folds again, pulling a long moan from my lungs. A sharp whisper cuts through when Shikaku's tongue slithers across my clit. "There it is," he murmurs to himself, full focus on my nerve bundle. The Commander laps at me, tongue flat and slow as he runs over the same spot over and over again.

     "Hey," I whine again, hands shooting down to cling to the ends of his ponytail. His eyes bounce up again, locked on my face, taking in my face I'm sure is a mess. "Shikaku," I call, tugging in his hair as my thighs clamp around his face, squishing his cheeks.

     He pulls back for a second, spilling a chilled breath over my slick as he catches his breath. The air sends shivers up my spine, making me squeeze his face harder. "Come on, Sweet Girl. I want you to finish for me. Again and again and again," he mutters, tongue slamming into my hole.

     "Fuck!" I yelp, back arching as I tug on his hair again. "Commander," I groan, the feeling of his tongue sliding in and out of me pushing my orgasm forward. The man chuckles at me, tongue jumping up to my clit again.

     Shikaku's fingers skirt over my thigh, quickly walking their way back up to my hole. Soon his fingertips are ghosting over my rim again, gently tugging on it to continue stretching me out. Two fingers dip into me, slowly sliding against my walls before they're as far in as they can go.

     An almost purring moan, tumbled around my throat, my closed mouth not letting the sound out. "Don't do that, Sweet Girl. I want to hear those noises. They let me know I'm doing a good job. Let me know I'm doing a good job."

     With the soft order, my mouth falls open, all my noises spilling out as Shikaku's tongue and fingers work in time with each other. "Shikaku," I hiss, my fingers starting to hurt from pulling his ponytail so hard. "Shikaku!" I repeat louder this time, the feeling of my cum gushing out and costing my thighs in my juices.

     Soft chuckles fall from the man, fingers slowing down but still thrusting in and out of me. His tongue falls away from my clit too, busying myself slurping up my mess from my folds, and my thighs. "I'm so sorry again, Sweet Girl. You deserve this treatment all the time. You're so pretty glistening like this, you taste so sweet. I could just eat you all day."

     "Than... thank you... but, Commander... I..."

     "Oh, I know, Sweet Girl. You're all worked up and sensitive, but your legs look so cute shaking because of me," he coos, nibbling at my thighs before his tongue slides over my clit again.

     "Commander," I whine, my voice pitched high. "You're... I'm... Shikaku!"

     "Sweet Girl?" He calls back, fingers picking up their speed again.

     "Ah, ah, ah," the chipped moans chirp out, the sound on repeat as my next orgasm builds up quicker than the first.

     Shikaku looks amazed with himself, the bottom half of his face dripping in the juices as his eyes jump around my body. "I want to see your titties, Sweet Girl," he tells me, laying out a flattened lick to my pussy in between each word.

     "Yes... yes, Commander," I mutter, dropping my hold on his hair long enough to tug the top of my dress down. The material settles under my boobs, the lack of a bra being a good plan today.

     "Damn, Sweet Girl. You drive me crazy," he groans, eyes snapping closed for a moment before snapping again. His dark eyes lock on my boobs, rolling over them, following their movement as I come undone on his tongue again.

     Another round of chuckles rings through the room, Shikaku's cockiness growing with every orgasm he pulls out of me. “My pretty, beautiful, Sweet Girl,” he mumbles, dipping his head again.

“Wait,” I whine, trying to push his head away. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can, I know you can. One more and I’ll let you rest. Sweet Girl, can you cum for me one more time? Just one more,” he encourages, tongue poking at my hole.

“Just… just one more,” I babble, letting my head lull to the side. “Fuck,” I cry when his tongue slides over my clit again, the pleasure quickly chased by sparks of pain.

“Don’t cry. Just breathe, in and out, deep and slow,” Shikaku walks me through, fingers sliding back into place as his tongue crickets my clit, the pain daring to outweigh my pleasure.

I repeat his words in my head, trying to model my breathing how I was ordered. The more he licks at me, the harder it is to keep control of my lungs. “Please?” I whine, knotting my hands in his hair again, trying to tug his mouth off of me. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I know you can. You can do it, Sweet Girl. Cum for me again, please?” Another round of jagged moans stick in my throat, struggling to come out.

Shikaku’s words roll around my head and his watchful eyes scanning me push me over the edge again. The pain of the overuse is twisted in with the pleasure of my third undoing, the unknown of whether it’s pain or pleasure coated in my whines that spill out alongside my cum.

“See? I know you could do it. You did such a good job. You’re so good for your Commander,” Shikaku coos, sitting on his knees before tugging his shirt off. “You’re doing great, amazing. You’re perfect. I’m so proud of you,” he tells me, the praises flowing out as he uses his shirt to gently pat at the mess in my thighs.

My watery eyes jump over the older man, sliding over the scars on his face before jumping down to his chest. His knotted undershirt clings to him, making my pussy pulse with more needs. “See? It’s not that bad,” he continues to soothe, throwing his shirt to the ground before leaning over me.

Shikaku rubs his nose against mine, hands clinging to my dress as he lightly rolls it off of me. “You are gorgeous. The most beautiful diamond in the world.” Compliments continue to spill for the older man as he coats my neck in kisses, hands pawing at different parts of my body. “You deserve admiration, praise, attention,” he mutters, sloppy kisses tumbling down to my breasts.

His hands scoop up my boobs, squeezing and toying with them like he did earlier. “Is that what you want, Sweet girl?” His thumbs ghost over my nipples, rubbing circles into them to encourage them to perk up. “Do you want me to continue to admire your body? Continue to praise you? Continue to give you the attention you deserve?”

Now that my nipples are perky, Shikaku holds them between his fingers, pinching down on them. “Come on, Sweet Girl. Please answer your Commander.”

“Ye - ow,” I whine, mellow pain echoing through my chest as Shikaku pinches harder. His eyes are trapped in my boobs, watching as he tugs on them, pulling my breasts toward himself. As he pulls, his hold starts to slip before giving way, my boobs jiggling as they fall back in place. “Commander,” I whine again, arching my back as his pinches return. “That hurts.”

“You’re fine, Sweet Girl,” he hums, tugging until his hold gives out again. “You’ve been driving me crazy the past couple of months. Do you know that?”

“No,” I whimper, trying to arch more and take away some of the pain blooming through my chest.

“You have been. All those short pretty dresses you wear. Walking around my house with no bra and your nipples poking through your shirt. Listening to those pathetic whimpers Shikamaru pulls from you. God damn, Sweet Girl,” he grumbles, twisting my nipples now instead of tugging on them.

“Ow, ow, ow,” I whimper, wrapping my hands around his wrists and tugging on them.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, that was a little much, wasn’t it? I’m sorry, my Sweet Girl,” Shikaku coos, hands soft and massaging my boobs as he litters them in kisses. “Sweet Girl?”

“Yes?” I slur out, my head shifting back and forth as I soak in his soft touches.

“Please let me fuck you. Let me enjoy you, let me worship your body like it’s supposed to be worshipped,” he whispers into my skin, his kisses trailing back up my body.

“Oh… okay… okay, Commander,” I murmur, the feeling of his hands snaking down my body setting my skin on fire again.

“Thank you, Sweet Girl,” he whispers in my ear, his hands leaving me kind enough to finish undressing himself. “You’re so good to me, so good to us. That’s why you deserve this, you hear me? You deserve to be cared for in the ways you care for my household.”

“I do?” I mutter, my eyes flickering down to Shikaku’s length. My cheeks flush at the sight, the man easily being the biggest of the two men I’ll have taken in my life.

“You do,” he hums out, leaning over me as his hands slide across the bed. “Lift your hips for me, please.”

Again, I fall into obedience, lifting my hips. Shikaku slides a pillow under me, adjusting it before pushing on my stomach until I lay on top of it. “You are a beautiful woman,” he mutters, a hand fluttering over my hips as the other lightly rests on my neck, the pad of his fingers dipped into the sides of my throat. “You’re so young, so pretty, and I get to enjoy all of it. The sweet taste of your pussy, your tight little cunt milking my cock, your soft skin, the fruity perfume you were.”

Shikaku slowly sinks himself into me, taking his time feeling me wrap around every inch of him. A deep moan rumbles out of him, his balk sack tapping against me once he’s bottomed out. “You are the perfect little cock sleeve,” he mutters against the shell of my ear, brushing kisses against it as he tugs himself back out to me.

He never pulls fully out, leaving his tip dipped in me as his thrusts keep their slow rhythm. “Commander?” I whine, wrapping my arms under his, my nails clinging to his shoulder blades.

“Ya? What is it, Sweet Girl? What can I do to make you feel good?”

“Move faster. Please?” I ask, dragging out the last word. Shikaku gives me what I want, his speed picking up. “Fuck,” I hiss, nails digging into his back as he fucks me into the mattress, the bed squeaking because of his pace. “Shikaku!”

“Sweet Girl,” he huffs out, lips roughly pressed across my face. The pillow arching my hips up makes it easy for the Commander to reach parts of me never touched, and I’m sure the bodies spilling from me let him know. “Hold… hold on,” he mutters, tugging out of me.

I let out a disappointed whine, being left empty upsetting me. I want him back in me, I want him to touch more new parts of me.

Shikaku uses his grip on my throat to manhandle me, his hand tightening around my neck. I’m tugged around, the two of us being repositioned. He settles underneath me, my knees resting next to his thighs, my back arched and shoulders pressed to his chest. Commander’s hand slides up my neck tipping my head back so it’s pressed to his shoulder.

“Look how pretty you are,” he praises, lips brushing against my temple and his free hand shoving my hips down roughly.

“Shikaku!” I yell the sudden fullness pulls his name and a whimper from my lips.

“Oh, oh, oh,” he hums, bouncing me on his dick as his lips slide across my jaw.

“Dad?” A voice calls from the doorway, tugging Shikaku’s attention from me.

His hand jumps up, wrapping around my eyes, and keeping my head pressed to his shoulder. “Shikamaru,” the Commander answers, his pace picking me up, causing my titties to bounce to the beat of his thrusts.

“What… what the hell are you doing? Tell me you’re kidding. You… you’re not… that’s my fucking girlfriend!” Shikamaru’s voice rings out, distress and anger coating his words.

“Ya and?” Shikaku mutters, his lips present on my body again, littering my neck in kisses.

“‘Ya and’? ‘Ya and’? You’re balls deep in my God damn girlfriend! What the fuck, Dad?”

“Why do you care?” He asks, nibbling on my shoulder. “You were just in some girl’s sandbox, what? Twenty? Thirty minutes ago? Why the hell do you care if I’m fucking my Sweet Girl? Do you care?” He asks, shaking his shoulder to get my attention.

“What?” I whimper, Shikaku’s nimble fingers newly drawing circles against my clit making it difficult to focus.

“Are you upset I’m fucking you? Do you want me to stop?” He asks, his thrusts stopping with his dick still buried deep in me.

“What?! No! Please don’t. Commander, please, please don’t!” I cry, wiggling in his hold to bounce myself on his penis. “Shikaku, please.”

The vibrations of his chuckles run across my back, his laughter followed by him thrusting into me again. “The fuck are you upset about, Shikamaru? You were just cheating, fucking Temari as ‘your girl’ was away serving our village. ‘Your girl’ that you never gave head to. I raised you better than that. I raised you to be a loyal partner, to serve your lady, to be a good man, and now what? You just go around pretending to be some kind of fuck boy?”

“Dad, it’s not… that’s not… so what if I did? That doesn’t give you the right to fuck my girlfriend!”

“Last time I checked, she’s an adult, and I am an adult. She wants it, I want it, seems like I have every right to fuck her.”

“You know what, whatever Dad. Fuck my leftovers, I don’t give a shit.”

“Stay right fucking there,” Shikaku grumbles, his thrusts losing their pace as the order spills out.

“I’m not going to watch you - ”

“Fine, leave. See how quickly I strip you of your Shinobi rank,” Shikaku says, cutting his son off as his huff for air fills my ears, the air tickling me as he breathes.

“You can’t do that!”

“Ya, I can. How the hell is the village supposed to trust someone who can’t even stay loyal to his girl? How am I supposed to know you won’t betray the village when you’ll betray her?”

The two fall quiet, the sound of my noises and Shikaku’s breathing being the only sound in the room. “Fuck,” Shikaku groans, slamming me down on him once more. “That’s it, Sweets. Milk my cock, take all my cum. Thank me for it, thank me for cumming in you.”

“Thank you. Thank you, Commander,” I murmur, my hands moving up to cling to his wrist.

“Thank you for what? What are you thankful for?”

“Thank you for cumming in me. Thank you so much, Commander. Please… please do it again. Pretty please, Shikaku?” I beg, rotating my hips, trying to perk his dick up again.

“Fuck you. Fuck both of you,” Shikamaru says, his words shaky and broken before the sound of the door slamming fills the room.

Shikaku’s laughter roars out again, his lips coating my sweat-covered body, eagerly cleaning up the salty water from my skin. “What a Sweet Girl. Sweet, Sweet Girl.”

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[artdcnaldson]

re: the thing i sent poppy about mean coach patrick

y'know i did initially consider the implications of art making out with prodigy's pussy through her panties. but i don't think he'd be able to do it properly, he'd get too needy and wouldn't be able to keep teasing. i feel like he doesnt get off on it as much as patrick does, patrick moreso gets off on how depraved and filthy it is. whereas art would lean more towards torturing her clit sans panties. y'know? that being said i would kill to have dilf art kissing my little cunt through my panties :(( i have so many thoughts about him, like independant of prodigy au, just older dilf-y art. i NEED him its so serious

ah and mean stanford art would be the same as patrick methinks. like the first time he gives into pats sister and eats her pussy, he does it over her panties so its not like he's really doing it. but he can taste her through the thin cotton, feel every crevice of her cunt. the material is so soaked through he's basically just kissing her pussy. but technically he's not...

so many mixed thoughts here, but i needed to vent some thoughts on this. theyve been bouncing around my head since i read poppys beautiful thoughts lol

-🐞

OHHHHH <3

I’m always thinking abt my sweet sweet beloved angel perfect lovely Patrick’s sister au <3

God, he always wants to taste you— you get so wet for him, he just wants to lick it all up, let your pussy drool onto his tongue as he buries his face between your thighs. And he’s so mean for not doing it properly, which is more a punishment for himself than it is for you. But god, you just look so pretty in your cute little panties— soft cotton with the days of the week printed on the front (Wednesday, with a little flower beneath it), just soaking them with his spit as he laves over your cunt with his tongue.

And you’re just squirming, relishing in the warmth of his spit saturating the fabric, the pressure of his tongue tracing the seam of your pussy. Sometimes he just takes the fabric into his mouth and sucks on it, tastes you through it, moans against your cunt before he starts licking at you again. He has the world’s worst oral fixation— just wants to keep licking and licking at you like you’re a fucking jawbreaker candy. He makes you cum, but just holds your thighs down and keeps going, he just wants you beneath him, helpless under his tongue.

He’d never admit how obsessed he is with your pussy. He’ll say it’s just because you’re there, that you’re easy, that you practically fucking beg for it (all of which is true), but you know it’s you he wants, that he craves you so much he has to fucking restrain himself from just claiming you altogether, from making you his girl, his sweet, pliant little girlfriend. He wants it, you know he fucking wants it so bad. You’d just have to find a way to deal with Patrick, that’s all.

[useless-catalanfacts]

Who was the last deadly victim of the Spanish Inquisition?

Technically, the last victim sentenced to death by the Spanish Inquisition was María de los Dolores López, a Sevillian nun killed in 1781 for heresy. However, things didn't stop there.

The Spanish government of the Three Liberal Years (1820-1823) technically abolished the Inquisition, but the Inquisition continued the same now under the name of "Faith Tribunals". The same men who were inquisitors continued to do the same job as members of the Faith Tribunals, and the Inquisition's prisons simply became the Faith Tribunal's prisons. De facto, everything stayed the same until 1834.

Then, who was the last person killed by these fanatic tribunals?

It was this man: Gaietà Ripoll i Pla. A teacher sentenced to death in the city of València in the year 1826.

He was born in Solsona (Catalonia) in 1778. He fought in the Peninsula War against Napoleon's invasion, but in 1810 was captured as a prisoner of war and taken to France. There, he met Quakers and converted to Deism (belief in God that can be observed through empirical means, but not follower of one specific religion or Church). Four years later he came back and became a teacher.

He taught children in Russafa (nowadays, this town has been absorbed by the growing city of València and has become a neighbourhood of València), in a house built by the neighbours and also giving private lessons. Russafa was a very rural town, where most of its inhabitants worked in the fields and did not know how to read nor write.

Writings of the time show that Gaietà was very respected by the neighbours, who praised his integrity and goodness, but the fact that he did not go to mass caught people's attention. When a local woman asked him why he didn't go, he answered that he knew more than the priests. After some time, some neighbours told the Archbishop of València that this teacher was not following Catholicism's rules and wasn't making children pray in school.

He was arrested in October 1824 and jailed for two years in what used to be the Inquisition's prison in València, which was now the Valencian Faith Tribunal's prison. The inquisitor (now president of València's Faith Tribunal) Miguel Toranzo wrote that Gaietà refused to accept the truth of Catholicism and that he told children in his school that they should not say Ave María Purísima and that it's not necessary to hear mass in order to be saved.

To sentence him to death, the tribunal used the Medieval Partidas laws from Castile, which sentenced to death those Christians who had walked away from Catholicism to become heretics or Jewish. He was sentenced to be hanged and burned, but the sentence added that "nowadays no nation in Europe burns or materially sentences men to the flames", thus "the burning can be represented by painting flames on a bucket, which the executioner will place under the scaffold so that the prisoner's suffocated body will fall in it".

And that's how it went. He was hanged in València's Market Square, fell on the fake-flames bucket, and his body was thrown to the Túria river.

During all the centuries that it lasted for, the Inquisition/Faith Tribunals caused unimaginable amounts of suffering and death, not only to the people they were torturing and killing, also to their families, their friends, their neighbourhoods (consider the fear and trauma inflicted on everyone who saw it happen and knew it could happen to anyone), their whole communities (was the mostly-illiterate town of Russafa not better with the work of this kind-hearted teacher who gave its children a formal education?), and even the whole of Humanity (we have lost countless works of art, of science, philosophy, medicine, new ideas that could bring us all better times). Even after the end of the Inquisition/Faith Tribunals, even after the end of the Spanish national-Catholic dictatorship (1939-1978), there is so much that we can never get back that was taken by religious fanaticism / Christian extremism.

Translation of the plaque: València's City Council restores this plaque which was in this square between the years 1906 and 1940, in homage to Gaietà Ripoll i Pla, a freethinker teacher who had his school in Russafa and who was the Inquisition's last victim.