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bueckersstuff · 1 day ago

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REMEMBER

Click here for chapter: 1, 2, 3, & 4

Chapter 5: Pages of the Past

The warm-up pool is bustling with energy, the sound of splashing water blending with the chatter of swimmers prepping for their events. You take a deep breath, stretching your arms above your head, feeling the cool water kiss your fingertips. It’s almost time for the relay — your moment to shine alongside Mia, Ava, and Syd, a freshman who’s just starting to find her place in the team.

The announcer’s voice crackles over the loudspeakers, calling the teams to the starting blocks. Your heart races, but the familiar rhythm of your breath helps ground you. You exchange a look with your teammates, each of you radiating focus. You know what’s at stake. This isn’t just about you — it’s about the four of you, coming together as one team.

As you line up at the edge of the pool, you hear the crowd cheering. You’ve never been more grateful for the nerves that keep you sharp. Mia dives in for the first leg of the relay, her form smooth and fluid, slicing through the water with grace. You’ve watched her swim hundreds of times, but today it feels different. Today, she’s going to hand off that baton — or in this case, the water — to you in perfect form.

The seconds tick by. Mia’s hand hits the wall, and it’s your turn. You take a deep breath, climb onto the block, and focus on the water ahead. You’re up for the butterfly, your favorite stroke — the one you’ve perfected through countless hours of practice. The whistle blows. You dive in, the water swallowing you whole, and for a brief moment, it’s just you and the rhythm of your body moving through the water.

Your arms pull you forward, strong and steady, while your legs kick in unison, propelling you through each stroke. The water splashes around you, but your focus is laser-sharp. You can feel the pressure of the competition closing in, but you know — this moment, this race, belongs to you and your teammates. The crowd’s cheers fade into the background as you focus solely on the glide, the pull, the push. Each stroke brings you closer to victory.

As you near the wall, you spot Ava, poised for the handoff. You push harder, touching the wall with everything you have left. The transition is quick. Ava is off, swimming with relentless intensity, passing the baton to Syd as she finishes her leg.

You watch, your heart pounding, as Syd launches off the block like a rocket. Her strokes blur with speed, the finish line drawing closer. The crowd’s roar swells to a crescendo as she closes the gap. And then — she touches the wall. It’s over. You’ve won.

The pool erupts with cheers as the final time flashes on the board. You and your teammates huddle together, breathless but triumphant, the weight of your victory settling in. You’ve done it. You’ve won.

You exchange smiles and laughter with Mia, Ava, and Syd, the joy of the moment lighting up your faces. Just then, the men’s team joins the huddle, and Luke speaks up, "You were amazing out there!" He pats you on the back, but his gesture is interrupted by a throat clearing.

You and Luke both turn to see the UConn women’s basketball team standing before you. There are five of them, but you only recognize Paige and Azzi.

"Nice game," Paige says, smirking as she looks directly at you.

"Thanks, Bueckers! Good luck with your game later," Luke replies, oblivious to the look Paige is giving you. Or are you overthinking this?

"I don’t mean you, Gardner. I’m complimenting her," Paige says, pointing at you. "And by the way, is she your girl? If not, you might want to take your arm off her shoulders. She looks uncomfortable." Paige deadpans, her gaze locked on Luke, while her teammates snicker.

Luke looks embarrassed, quickly removing his arm, "Sorry, got carried away," he says cheekily at you.

"My question still stands, Gardner," Paige asks, now serious.

Luke turns to her and answers, "No, not right now anyway."

What? You glance at him, confusion flashing across your face, then look at Paige again. She’s staring at him, her brows furrowed, jaw clenched.

"What do you m—" she starts, but is cut off by the girl number 10 on the team.

"We’ve got to go, guys! It was nice seeing you win, come watch us play later!" She winks at you, and wow—she’s stunning.

Without waiting for a response, they start dragging Paige away, though it looks like they’re giving her a bit of a scolding.

It’s nearly 6 PM when Hailey calls you, saying she’s finished with her classes back in Connecticut. She’s begging you to livestream the basketball game because, apparently, she’s a huge fan of Nika Muhl — who, you just learned, is girl number 10. She clearly gives you no choice, so now you’re walking toward Finneran Pavilion with Mia and Ava, who decided to tag along.

The gym buzzes with excitement as you enter. The stands are packed with eager fans, their voices blending into a sea of cheers as the women’s basketball teams take to the court. You sit in the middle — not too close, not too far — to get a good view of everything happening on the court. The starting five flashes on the screens: Paige, Nika, Azzi, Aaliyah, and KK. The same group that came up to you earlier.

From the moment the game begins, the Huskies are on fire. The ball moves with precision, every play a perfect display of teamwork. Aaliyah darts around the court, setting up Azzi for a three-pointer that swishes through the net. Nika’s defense is unyielding, while KK’s speed keeps Villanova on edge.

But as the game progresses, you notice something strange about Paige. Every so often, her eyes wander toward the bleachers, scanning the crowd as if looking for someone. It’s not the first time her gaze has drifted, but it’s clear her performance isn’t suffering. In fact, it’s almost like Paige is using her distractions to fuel her intensity on the court.

Despite the brief lapses in focus, Paige is dominating. She’s a powerhouse in the paint, slicing through Villanova’s defense like a knife through butter. Her passes are sharp, her shots precise. She’s everywhere — an unstoppable force. Nika, Azzi, Aaliyah, and KK feed off her energy, riding her wave of determination.

As the game nears its end, the tension grows thicker. Villanova fights back fiercely, but they can’t catch up. The Huskies remain relentless. With each possession, they build momentum, chipping away at the lead.

With only seconds left on the clock and the score tied, Paige has the ball. She glances at the scoreboard, then steals a quick look at the bleachers. That’s when her eyes find you.

For just a moment, her face softens — as if reassured by something unseen. Without hesitation, she drives to the basket, spinning past her defender and flicking the ball up with a graceful layup.

The ball hits the backboard and drops through the hoop. The buzzer sounds. The Huskies win. The crowd erupts, but Paige doesn’t celebrate right away. Her eyes once again seek the bleachers, and this time, her face breaks into a smile — a smile that reaches her eyes as she looks directly at you.

Deja vu.

Paige used to do this before. Every game, she’d search for you in the bleachers. And then, after hitting her final shot, she’d smile, just like she did now. You’re left taken aback, confused by what you’re seeing.

What is she playing at? What’s her deal?

Mia insists on greeting the team as a sign of respect, so now you’re standing outside the girls' locker room. The first to step out is Nika, followed by Aaliyah and KK. They walk over to your group, and you all congratulate them. That’s when Paige and Azzi walk out. You can’t help but stare, just a little longer, at both of them — especially when they aren’t looking. Then, you don’t know what comes over you, but you decide to taunt Paige. A little payback for earlier.

"Nice game," you say, looking at both Paige and Azzi.

Paige raises a brow. "Thanks, it was a team effort."

"Yeah, we saw. But I actually meant to compliment Azzi, because she played really well tonight," you add, smiling sweetly at both of them.

Before Paige can respond, Azzi takes your hand, saying, "Oh, thank you! That’s really kind of you to say."

How could you hate this girl? You can see now, up close, why Paige might fall for someone like her. This is your problem — it’s you who caught feelings before. And now, you decide to move past it. You’ll just be nice to everyone, including Azzi.

Paige, though — she’s a different story. She seems to be pushing your buttons.

As both teams begin to say their goodbyes and load the bus, someone grabs your wrist and drags you to the back of the line.

"Hey!" You catch yourself before saying anything when you catch a glimpse of blonde hair. Paige finally turns to look at you.

"Hi, I’m Paige," she says, her words coming so quickly you barely catch them. "I’ve been meaning to ask... do you remember me?"

"What do you mean? I don’t know you. Not until earlier at the game," you respond, your voice steady as you look directly at her, careful to mask any nervousness from this unexpected confrontation.

Paige looks like someone just stole her puppy.

"Oh, so it’s true, then," she mutters. "Here, read this." She hands you a small, crumpled notebook from her backpack.

You look up at her, confused. "What’s this?" you ask.

"It’s my memories of you," she says, her expression suddenly blank and serious. Then she turns and starts walking toward the bus, leaving you standing there, utterly confused. Before you’re out of earshot, she says something completely off-topic.

"Don’t forget to eat your dinner." Your mind goes back to all the notes and the magic containers that Hailey devours.

Hours later, you’re sitting on your bed, ready to sleep, holding the small notebook Paige gave you. Curiosity is killing you. You can’t help but flip the page.

May 28, 2019 I don’t know why I decided to start journaling, but I feel like I’m going to need this in the future. So, I met a girl at the convenience store today. She’s so annoying, cocky, and loud. She keeps distracting me at practice, and if it weren’t for my dad, I might have thrown the ball at her. She has basic black hair, though it’s shiny. Her eyes — they look like black orbs that make me feel hypnotized when I stare into them. She’s tall, but not taller than me. And her laugh — it’s so annoying it makes me want to laugh with her, even when I don’t want to. Oh, and she swims. Which is good, because if she played ball, I’d probably dunk on her every time. LOL P.S. Hope she’s not around for practice tomorrow.

Your mind stops dead. Did Paige just gave you her diary?

Taglist: @sjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj @0phantom0 @authentic-girl03 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @thelightknight21 @shartnugget26

#paige bueckers #uconn #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #nika muhl

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sykylarksky · 3 days ago

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“As you wish my little prince.”

This has to be the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever made.

Why did I spend over a week perfecting it?

Cause I wanted to.

My hand might be suffering carpal tunnel, and I went through five different pencil nibs with how heavy hand I was, but I LOVE it.

I learned a ton of new techniques while drawing it.

The hair is my favorite. So much dimension.

If I had to critique, it would be the skin and background.

Skin always gives me trouble, and I’m still learning backgrounds though.

In fact, beyond block colors, I really didn’t do much with the background.

Anyway. This is more art for that Fanfiction I write.

In this scene Jazz is about to leave to go save Jason, and turns back to say one last thing to Danny.

Danny accidentally makes an order, and Jazz gladly replies.

I dunno why the scene struck me, but I felt compelled to draw it.

So I did, and here we are.

#anger management ship #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp dc crossover #digital art #my art #dpxdc art #art #artwork #art fanart #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp fanfiction #jazz fenton #danny phantom

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malk1ns · 2 days ago

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january 9 vs oilers, 5-3 win

i started writing this before the game even started because i found geno getting put through his paces inspirational.

Sid isn’t supposed to be here, but it didn’t take a lot of sweet-talking for the training staff to let him down the tunnel towards the ice. He had to look Kevin in the eyes and promise that he wouldn’t so much as step out onto the bench, but the practice facility has been abuzz for days over Malkin’s arrival, and Sid, arguably the person most impacted by his presence in Pittsburgh, hasn’t even gotten to see him from a distance, let alone smell him.

Not that it really matters. Their pheromone profiles are a near-perfect match, Sid’s gone over the files himself. Malkin’s a little older than the organization might have preferred to stud their prized omega, but he’s got a resume and a pedigree, a track record of producing talented offspring, and when he was made available internationally the Penguins jumped to offer an enormous compensation package to bring him to Pittsburgh. If Sid ends up having some objection to Malkin’s scent, he’s going to have to get over it.

Watching Malkin on the ice, though, Sid doesn’t think it’ll be a problem.

He creeps a little further down the tunnel, still hanging back from the bench so as to not get in trouble for getting too close, but he can’t resist improving his view.

The coaches are watching Malkin run through a set of conditioning drills, and Sid knows that up above him most of management is watching from the balconies. He spotted the dynamics team heading that way with binders and clipboards earlier.

Malkin’s not the fastest guy from what Sid can see; when he was younger, closer to the age Sid is now, he had a bit more footspeed, but it’s evident from the drills he’s lost a step there. His edgework is insane, though, and the way he handles the puck has Sid craning his neck to try and get a better look.

They’ve got Chiasson in goal, and when Malkin dekes him out of his net and slips the puck behind him like it’s nothing, Sid has to hold back a cheer.

He must make some noise though, or maybe he’s drifted too close to the ice, because Malkin’s head snaps up.

Sid shrinks back down the tunnel before anyone can catch him, heart pounding as he escapes back towards the locker room. Malkin’s probably going to be done with drills soon anyway.

The trainers pull him into an exam room to poke at his wrist, and then Dr. Vyas wants to see him for a blood draw to assess his hormone levels, and by the time Sid finally escapes he’s starving, so he ducks into the lounge to poke around for leftovers before going home.

He’s bent over rummaging through the refrigerator when the smell of pine fills the room.

Sid’s nostrils flare as he stands up and shuts the fridge. The smell is strong, almost enough to sting his nose, but it’s good, like the forest around his lake back home. Nobody on the team smells like that.

Malkin is standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Shit,” Sid says, looking around the empty room. The staff probably figured he was long gone; if they knew he was still in the building, Malkin wouldn’t be anywhere without a chaperone.

“Hi,” Malkin says, stepping into the lounge. His voice is deep and raspy, like he’s tired. Sid wonders if he’s still jetlagged; from what he’s heard, they practically had to smuggle him out of Russia even with the transfer agreement to bring him here in place. “Not think you’re still here, sorry.” His English is better than Sid expected, which is maybe unfair; plenty of North American guys are playing in the K these days, and Malkin’s been captain of his team for almost two decades.

“It’s alright,” Sid says. As Malkin gets closer, the hair on the back of his neck stands up. “Uh…I probably should go, I don’t think they want us alone yet.”

“Hmm,” Malkin says, closing the final distance between them as Sid backs into the counter along the wall. “Too late, yes? We here now, alone.”

He’s so much taller than Sid, who stands frozen as Malkin bends down. Up close, the smell is almost overwhelming, and Sid’s eyelids flutter as Malkin inhales next to his neck.

“Sweet,” Malkin mutters, and Sid’s face goes hot. He’s heard it before, that he smells like cake, like sugar; it’s been too much for some of his teammates before, and none of them usually get this close to him when he’s not wearing a blocker like he does during games and practices.

“Sorry,” Sid says inanely, and Malkin lets out an amused huff, reaching out and cupping his hand over the side of Sid’s neck.

Sid nearly swoons at the unexpected contact. Malkin’s hand is huge and warm, and when their skin touches the pine-scent spikes, soporific and enticing.

“Sweet is good,” he croons, running his thumb under Sid’s chin, skirting over the scent glands there and making Sid moan embarrassingly at the sensation. “Smell like you’re taste good too.”

Sid’s never been touched like this. He’s hooked up plenty, but only with betas or other omegas. Even though he’s done his share of looking at alphas in bars, the language in his contract is clear, and Sid wasn’t about to risk a breach for a night of fun. And only alphas have this sort of effect on omegas.

“You like?” Malkin asks, like the answer isn’t obvious by the way Sid’s scent is rising and his body is instinctively going pliant and soft. “Yes, good, it’s good you like. We have nice time, I think.”

The way he’s playing with Sid’s scent glands is making Sid slick up. He can feel it, and he’s sure Malkin can smell it. Sid didn’t read more than the first page of Malkin’s stud file, but maybe he should have; Malkin is experienced, and Sid is totally out of his depth.

“Lyubimyy,” Malkin practically purrs, bringing his other hand to Sid’s waist. “So sweet for me, I can tell. Sweet boy. You’re not do before, I know this—don’t worry, I take good care of you.”

When he steps back, Sid sways towards him before he can help himself, making a bereft little sound. Malkin laughs, but it’s not mean—he sounds delighted, like Sid did something to please him.

Sid badly, badly wants to please him.

“I do too much,” Malkin says, regret coloring his voice. Sid wants to shake his head in denial, but he’s so stuck under the scent and the lingering effect of Malkin’s hands on him that he can’t do much more than stare up at Malkin with wide eyes.

“Sorry, sweet boy, I’m not mean to push. You’re just smell so nice, can’t help it.” Malkin takes a pointed inhale, and Sid watches as his eyes go dark. “I go now. You go clean up, go home—we see each other soon.”

Sid watches him leave. It’s only when he’s further down the hallway and his scent starts to recede that Sid feels like he can move again.

He jerks off in the bathroom, biting his fist to keep from making too much noise. When he closes his eyes, he can feel Malkin’s fingers on his throat, a phantom touch that pushes him over the edge faster than since he was a teenager.

The drive home is a daze. Sid’s not sure how he’s going to make it through their games this weekend, now that he knows what’s waiting for him on the other side.

#sidgeno #hockey rpf #my writing #my fic #24-25 series

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themintman · 11 hours ago

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Some space dog doodles + fur/scar practice 😋

#minecraft story mode #mcsm #DanTDM #Mcsm au #DanTDM au #Dr Trayaurus #Grim the skeleton dog #Mcsm: space dog #Mcsm oxblood #Mcsm Cassie rose #I need to draw tray with more of his friends OML.#Like. Clearly he's pals with Oxblood #But there's MORE I just.#OH MY GODDDDD I SHOULD DO A RELATIONSHIP CHART FOR HIS LIKE I DID WITH THE OTHER CHARACTERS #okay new plan LMAO #anyways #School starts tomorrow so I wanna get something out (even if it's a mash of a few drawings)#Cause I'm already stressed 24/7 for no reason so school means I'll either not draw anything for a month #OR I'll be drawing CONSTANTLY to try and make myself feel better #So. YAH. Space dog beam!! 💥💥💥💥💥#Yes Cassie sets him on fire. She's very normal and sane #LMAO in they're last scuffle she fumbles with the flint and steel and accidentally gets his coat. She DIDNT ACTUALLY MEAN TO DO THAT-#He's a wee bit toasted but he's fine (mostly)#When the story is like. More set in stone the scars might change I just wanted to practice ALSO CAUSE HIS FURRRR IS SO CUTE #he's like a leopard ☹️ spotty young man I love him #Cmon Nurm just had STRIPES that's BORINGGGGG I needed an excuse to give ONE villager the most fabulous fur ever #Okay wow I need to stop yammering on like this LMAOOOO so long!!

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powdcr · 3 days ago

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it'll only hurt for a second

୨୧ jinx x transmasc!reader

୨୧ summary: jinx helps you do your testosterone shot

୨୧ word count: 1.4k

୨୧ tw: needles, injections, medical stuff

୭ ୨♡୧ ৎ

Ever since you came out as transgender, Jinx had been nothing but supportive. She had seen the signs ever since she’d known you and had secretly suspected that you felt this way. You never seemed to fit in with feminine terms or as being described as a woman. Over the past few years, she had started referring to you with gender neutral terms and pronouns as this seemed to calm your discomfort. She figured that if you were struggling with your gender, and wanted her to know, that you would tell her when you were ready. That day came and went, and she never saw you any differently for it. You would always belong to her, and that’s all that really mattered to the blue-haired girl.

One day, you met with Jinx in her base. She was tinkering at her desk, working on a blueprint for a new gun that she had wanted to construct. You came in with a satchel thrown over your shoulder. Taking notice of the music being blasted, you smiled to yourself. That’s my girl. You sauntered over to her, trying to call out over the music.

“Jinx! Baby!”

No response could be heard as she kept hard at work, leaning onto the desk to get a better look at whatever it was that she was drawing. You sighed, shaking your head before tapping her on the shoulder.

“Oh, shoots!” She called out, startled, almost falling off of her chair. She turned the stereo off before turning around to see you. She laughed in relief, pulling a loose strand of hair back. “You scared me, space boy.” A blush covered her face as she looked you up and down. You were wearing a more masculine outfit than the ones you had been wearing up until now.

“Sorry, babe. I tried calling out over the music. You always have it so loud. Do you ever think about your hearing when you put it that high?” you asked in a soft tone, genuinely caring about your girlfriend’s health.

Jinx stuttered for once, not taking in the question that you had just asked her. “I- um, no… not really, but wow, you look… good. Handsome. You look handsome.” She gestured with her pointer finger to your outfit and stature, followed by a clearing of her throat.

You cracked a smile, looking down at your feet. You let out a small, “thanks,” before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Anyway, I wanted to talk with you about something.”

Jinx’s eyebrows raised at your comment. “What’s up, buttercup?” Her tone returned to its normal cheery state as she fell back onto her desk chair. “Hit me with it.”

“Well, I… I don’t know how you’ll feel about this, but…” you stuttered as you opened up the satchel that hung by your hip bone. “I picked up this medication. I got it from someone that has connections over at the Piltover apothecary. If I pay him then he gets it for me, but I wanted to talk with you about it before I did my first dose.”

Jinx’s eyes narrowed. “Okay…” She bit the inside of her cheek as she sat up from her chair to look inside the bag.

The satchel contained needles as well as vials and alcohol wipes. It also had a small container that held syringes. She picked up a vial that had a see-through liquid within it, shaking it gently to watch as the liquid moved side to side.

“So… what is it exactly?”

“Well, you take shimmer, right? It makes you feel stronger, more confident, and it gives you energy. This… It’s supposed to do that for me. Except, it’ll make me look more masculine. I’ll look more like a man than I do now.”

Jinx inspected it further, holding the vial between her painted fingernails. “It’ll make you look more masculine?”

“Yeah! I might get facial hair, gain more muscle, and my voice would definitely get deeper.”

She smiled at your response. “So, correct me if I’m wrong, but… it’ll make you look more like you.”

“Yeah.” The corners of your lips upturned.

“I’m surprised something like this even exists, but then again, I heard there are some topsiders that are trying to create magic, so who knows at this point,” she said, rolling her eyes at the thought of the Pilties. “You want me to inject it for you?”

Your eyes lit up at Jinx’s question. “I mean, if you- yeah, if you’re comfortable. You don’t have to, of course, I wouldn’t wanna-”

“I’ll do it,” she said confidently, cutting you off with a smirk. Jinx motioned for you to hand the satchel over, which you did so obediently.

Jinx took the supplies out of the bag, assembling them all together as you instructed her to. She knelt down on the floor in front of you and had you lift up your shirt for her. Biting her bottom lip in a deep focus, she wiped a part of your stomach with an alcohol swab before pinching the skin in between her fingers.

“You ready, Mr?” Jinx asked in a playful tone to distract you from the situation. You always had had a fear of needles. The idea of them in general absolutely terrified you. That’s why she was so surprised at first that you were willing to do this.

You nodded nervously, holding your eyes closed as you braced for the pain.

“Don’t worry, it’ll only hurt for a second,” she said before sticking you with the needle, “See, it’s already in. You’re doing great, toots. In fact, you’re doing better than Silco does. He’s a real baby about his shimmer injections.”

You winced, but the pain really wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be. You laughed a little at Jinx’s comment about Silco. “Is that so?”

“Yep, he makes me do it every day for him at the same time, but he always procrastinates for like fifteen minutes beforehand. Sometimes he even paces,” she said with a giggle. “It’s really silly, honestly. I figure the faster you get it over and done with, the faster it’s, ya know, over. Makes sense to me.” She pulled out the needle as soon as she was done injecting the testosterone, placing a kiss to your stomach. “All done!”

“Really?” You asked, shocked that it happened so fast, before looking down at your blue-haired girlfriend.

“Yep,” she said with a wide grin, pulling your shirt back down for you, “so when does it start working?”

“Well, it’s something that builds up in your system, but technically I should see slight changes as early as the end of this week. I’m supposed to do it weekly, that’s why.”

“Nuh uh,” Jinx retorted.

Your eyebrows raised.

“I’ll be doing it for you weekly,” she said proudly, crossing her arms in front of her. “I might as well be a doctor at this point. I do your injections, mine, and Silco’s.”

You both laugh.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Don’t get all mushy-gushy with me. I know you’d do the same for me,” Jinx replied, trying to not get too sappy with you. “Anyway, I’m excited to see what you’ll look like… finally being you. You’re already you, but… ya know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“You never did tell me… Do you want me to start calling you something else? Maybe there’s a name that you feel suits you more?” Jinx asked, placing her hands on your chest affectionately. She was a mere centimeters from you now, looking into your eyes with her own doe-y, pink ones.

“[Y/N],” you replied. It was obvious that you had thought about it prior to this conversation, but you just didn’t know how to bring it up until now.

She smirked before going in to kiss you. Your lips pressed against her velvety ones. Electricity shot through you as butterflies erupted in your stomach. She tasted like blue raspberry and smoke. It made you feel high just being near her, but kissing her was different. It made you feel crazy.

“I love you, [Y/N],” Jinx replied in a softer tone than the one she had held throughout the rest of your interaction. It was gentle, welcoming, and made you feel safe. It was a voice that you had imagined her having before she had become ‘Jinx.’ She played with the collar of your shirt. “It’s a nice name. It suits you.”

“I love you too, Jinx,” you replied in an equally as soft tone, “I love you so much.”

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maleyanderecafe · 3 days ago

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The Yandere CEO (Visual Novel)

Created by: Phantom Tea

Genre: Romance

This game is pretty short and stops really fast, but older yanderes are always rare in these cases so I might as well write about it just in case. I do think that they could have maybe put in a bit more characterization for him, but for a short game, it's good as it is.

The story starts out with the MC working at a new job in the office and they're a bit scared given that his reputation is of a ruthless CEO. However, when the CEO, William, comes up to greet them, he reveals that he's very friendly. As the story goes on, the MC finds that William is constantly watching them too much, smiling too much and being way too attentive. One day he brings you to his office and talks about the plans for the marketing campaign. Although the MC wants to focus more on the work at hand, William insists that the best is to keep the MC by his side- to work together and to be together forever. He then tells the MC that he won't give them up for anyone else and that the two will be together forever.

Submitting to him will make him happy, confirming that there is no way for you to escape before he locks the office door. He decides to protect them forever and from everyone else. The MC is trapped inside of William's office indefinitely as he showers the MC with gifts and attention.

Trying to escape will have William slam them to the ground, and he chokes them until they pass out. Upon waking up, the MC finds themselves in the hospital, and it seems that William has escaped and disappeared. Despite this the MC still feels paranoid knowing that he's watching them and waiting to come back.

Trying to talk to him will simply lead him to denying their words, repeating his obsessions to them, seemingly trapping them in a more doll house like state.

So like I said, it's a very short game. It's kind of unfortunate we don't really get to know that much about William because he has a pretty nice design that's simple but knows where to draw the right people. The story itself is very point to point, getting to the gist very easily. The MC joins a company, is immediately chosen by William to be the lover (though whether or not this is the first time he's seen the MC has yet to be determined). Personally I think everything runs way too quickly for William to grow obsessed and the fact that he repeats a lot of lines that yanderes typically do (possessive likes like "You're mine and I won't let you leave") in succession is kind of, well, strange. But again, I don't think I can really complain that much. The fact that William was somehow able to lock the MC in his office for months without anyone noticing is WILD though- does nobody come to talk to him in his office because he's the CEO? Does the janitor not find the MC? It's not really a huge deal but I did think it was kind of funny.

Anyways, very short game, but the artstyle is nice. I don't know if there's too much to say about it at the moment, but I do hope that the creator will be able to make more yandere games, either about William or about another yandere character.

#The Yandere CEO #yandere #male yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #visual novel

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caeyrines · 22 hours ago

Text

milgram au

does this mean anything to anyone. very self indulgent thing of mine. might make a sideblog/fangram for it if anyone would tune into that. Milgram's an interactive music project where you vote innocent or guilty on murderers over the course of three trials (we're in the hiatus between 2 and 3 atp). love these guys. i should actually figure out their murders.

(To avoid weirdness w/ rl and grian warden, Cleo is 01, and the rest correspond to the game they won)

Character design rambling under the cut!

I tried to keep their outfits relatively still in the same world as milgram. Grian was annoying because I thought I could modify the uniform more than I could, and then referenced all Es across the series and realized it really was a uniform and there were a lot of traits shared across all uniforms and therefore integral to milgram prison guard design.

Luckily only main Es had it so i didn't need to put the stupid M on his hat. I also realized that the patterns on the cape wasn't uniform across all (Main Es's lettering vs novel es's laurels) so i put the watcher symbol on there. because Es Grian Watcher audience surrogate and all that. and because I Can. also his cape and little dangly things on his hat are winged shaped for fun.

For the prisoners, I tried to make the restraints generally reference their mc skins. Scott's restrains on the torso are the pattern on his shirt. Pearl's are mostly bs but her hoodie is purposefully tucked into them, unlike Scar, who's cloak is restrained and cannot be removed by him. Martyn's and Cleo's are both meant to just make their white prison outfits look like their skins visually. The same with Joel actually, but his tag is on his neck because imagery. I made a few fangram characters a while ago and i overused the restraints to make very on the nose designs, so i tried to be more restrained(hah) with them when designing these guys. They are all humans so nothing fun with that unfortunately (goodbye space elf scott...)

Um. Anyway. Talk to me about this au if you like milgram (or dont! and just are intrigued and want to know more!) I have a lot of ideas so ill probably just draw some more concepts here and if enough people are interested in participating in a fangram i'll make a sideblog for one. heart emoji

#caeyrines art #character design is my passion #caeyrines speaking #grian #cleo #scott #pearl #martyn #scar #joel #milgram life #<- first name idea. gets the point across.#traffic smp

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wormwoodartemisia · 1 day ago

Text

[I needed a wee funny bit and this came to my mind. No real context.][Don't get irritated by the title. There’s only this one part so far]

TF 141 have retired after a mission almost gone too wrong. Together, they now run a farm for holiday guests in a rural part of Scotland. Everyone has found new responsibilities and even their families appreciate this new life.

TF141 (shortest appearance: Price); main focus is on Soap - which is Ghost's fault, somehow...; afab!Reader (who's good at cooking) with relatively short appearance; no other specific description; no use of y/n

Warning: no smut (but maybe something that would count as implied reference to smut?); mentioning of food; no animal was harmed

(About 5.5k words)

(All dividers by firefly-graphics)

(Excerpts from a journey to happiness)

Funny Farm Life

Episode 5:

"Watercress down"

Soap has already been collecting some herbs, edible flowers and watercress in his willow basket by the small stream that's running along close to the main farmhouse building for a while when he decides to take a wee break.

Placing his basket in the grass and getting out of his boots, he picks a nice place to sit by the lazy waters and allow his feet to take an invigorating dip. Leaning back on his elbows, he enjoys the calm chattering of the creek, breathes the fresh air, smiling, and can’t but feel happy about his decision to let his life take this direction. With closed eyes, he bathes in the shy rays of the introvert Scottish sun above him. He could fall asleep like that easily, but there are still some tasks at hand. So after some beautiful minutes, he collects his thoughts and prepares to get up again.

Suddenly he sees it. That small green bit on the foot he had dangling in the stream mere seconds ago. Just above his right toe. A tiny frog staring up at him with a look somewhere between annoyance and admiration.

Soap smiles down at it, carefully lowering his foot again towards the water, but this only has the frog climb up his leg with careful, reluctant steps, making its point. It doesn't want to get wet.

So the Scotsman slowly lifts his leg to place it into the lush grass, his eyes always on the small creature as not to hurt it. Just that the frog keeps resting on him... Soap starts turning his leg to the left, to the right, to no avail. All the animal does is retreating back towards his toes. He leans on his elbows again, lifting his foot high into the air, but the frog remains unphased. Sees no need to jump off and flee...

Then Soap bends his knee and draws it close to menacingly stare at the living green spot. The frog stares back. Can frogs grin? The man rolls onto his left side, stretching his muscular body to its full length, placing his right foot close to a rock. Maybe stone is more to its liking than cool water and high grass? No, it’s not...

"Whit dae yi'll want fae me?", he asks, but the frog only tries to provoke him with a croak, a small, high-pitched sound.

"A'richt, challenge accepted."

With some more rolling, he is on his left knee, hands propped onto the ground, right leg still in the air. Might be that he’s now looking like some male dog marking their territory, but this is not important at the moment. Nobody around anyway. So what?

He's stretching his body again to reach a low bush with his frogged foot, tenderly touching some soft leaves. However, the animal doesn't move. Making itself smaller, cowering on the human skin, its sole reaction. No, wait! It's moving! Yes! Soap can see it reach the tip of his toe - and disappear on the underside of his foot... With a mildly frustrated growl, the Scotsman turns back to sit down in the grass again, taking his foot in hand, carefully turning it towards his face to eye the intruder of his personal sphere.

"Ah will git ye."

Cautiously he reaches out his left hand, trying to invite the frog onto it when suddenly the animal hops away. Short-term relief only. It's on his left lower leg now... Second try. With both his hands formed like cups, Soap does his best to catch the animal in between - just to make it jump again, higher up his thigh, landing onto his knee.

"Dinnae jump up ony higher, ye wee de'il!", he threatens in a low whisper, grinning, although he's perfectly aware that this cheeky beast better not find its way under his kilt.

Slowly the Scotsman gets up, his kilt pressed tightly to his body, and bends his knee back and forth. This leaves the frog totally unimpressed. How come is it sae pernicketie tae git it aff me? The warmth of his skin, maybe... Then Soap feels the little creature move again - with tentative steps into the direction of his popliteal fossa. When he, in order to get a better look, bows down his upper body towards his knees, he suddenly freezes mid-motion.

On his right shin, there's a second frog, wearing a darker shade of muddy green!

"Need tae ca' yer siblings fur support?"

Keeping his kilt secured, he runs his hand through his mohawk thoughtfully.

Tis back tae hee-haw fur me...

Keeping his left leg outstretched so he wouldn't squeeze the one frog in the hollow of his knee, he sits down again, already playing with the thought to simply let the frogs stay where they are. While walking through nature, why shouldn't he walk with nature at the same time?

There's a third frog. Light-green. On his left toe. Maybe this one would behave differently. Perhaps the darker one as well...

Soap starts lifting his legs again, slowly waving them in the mild, friendly air. The frogs stroll to the back of his legs. The first frog jumps off him.

"That's it. 'ere we gang."

So does the third.

"Guid laddie. Or lassie. Or baith."

Then a fourth one lands on him. Or is it the first one, a second time?

Maybe he should try laying back once more, on his stomach perhaps? Perform some more energetic variations of movements? Should thae meddlesome critters settle onto his clothes, he could try to carefully dress down and shake them out tenderly...

Meanwhile, Ghost is staring through the open kitchen window, his freshly brewed tea in hand, watching Soap by the creek. He is more than just mildly fascinated by the fact that the kilt - despite the vast majority of elaborated exercises - has never ridden up any higher than the middle of the Scotsman's thigh. Maybe an ability every Scottish boy was born with...

He takes another sip and since Johnny doesn't seem to be willing to end his excessive stretching in slow motion any time soon, Ghost takes out his smartphone and starts filming this idyllic summoning of all yoga deities.

It's this moment that Kyle enters the kitchen as well, following Ghost's direction of view while preparing a mug of coffee for himself, joining the other man at the counter in front of the window. For some time both men are watching Soap in silence. But Kyle is curious.

"What's our Highland fling doing over there?"

Ghost lets out a non-committal noise and his answer doesn't even sound half a question. "Honouring the national animal?"

Kyle takes a thoughtful sip, then nods slowly. "Sounds 'bout right." Another moment of comfortable silence. Then: "For how long's he been doing this?" - "Past 20 minutes or so." - "Huh. What you think. How long will he keep going?"

Never only for a second does Ghost put down his phone but goes on filming. Johnny's movements are hypnotising. "Forever, perhaps... 's got a course at 0300, though." - "That Nature Walk something, right?" Ghost hums an unspecific grunt as answer.

"If need be", Kyle offers, "I could take over. I'll be at the meeting point. Either Soap shows up or not." - "Cheers, mate."

Soap's next exertion has both men simultanously tilt their head to the left for almost 90 degrees. Kyle's brows couldn't go up any higher. "How does he manage to-" - "No bloody clue."

When Soap enters the kitchen later with his basket fully loaded of green delicacies and his mohawk an attractive, ruffled mess, Ghost looks up from his laptop. The Scotsman is mumbling some incomprehensible Gaelic tirades before he finally notices Ghost at the table. "We really need tae pay attention tae those clingy frogs. They be like glued tae one's skin, ye ken?"

Ghost doesn't even blink. "Sure, Johnny."

But the other man has already grabbed a box of crackers plus cottage cheese and is on his way out again. Most likely to meet his Nature Walk group. At least Ghost hopes so. Then he goes back to work on his own project once more.

The dining table is fully set when Soap comes to join Ghost and Kyle, who had both taken the responsibility for preparing dinner tonight. The Scotsman looks slightly puzzled, blinks and lets himself fall onto the next chair, fully ignoring all the tasty food laid out before him. "Fer some people, th' guid land air seems tae be too much, ah s'ppose."

Ghost and Kyle look at each other.

Soap leans forward, placing his arm along the edge of the table. He seems about ready to let the two others in on some secret.

"The sisters from Birmingham, ye ken, Mallory and Valerie? Was on my way tae bring the rest of my greens, those ah didn’t need on our Nature Walk, intae the cold storage, but Mallory and Valerie came out of nowhere and wouldnae let me enter. Going like 'We had no clue, ye should hae said something. Sign us up!' Ah told them tae just show up tomorrow fer the next Walk, just like they actually did yesterday as well, but they were 'Nah, yer yoga lessons!' Meanwhile Adeline and her daughters had arrived as well, together with the twins from Stratford. Na idea where they a' suddenly came from... Wanted tae know if they had tae wear skirts or if this was up tae themselves tae decide. Nora started a discussion about mini or maxi skirts, the advantages and disadvantages of flowing or heavier materials -"

Ghost taps a few times onto the display of his smartphone before wordlessly showing the screen for Kyle to take a look -

at the homepage for their farm. At the headline plus a video showing Soap's waterside exercises. Kyle's eyes go wide and he has to press a hand over his mouth as not to laugh out loud.

'Kilted Me - Rural Countryside Yoga-Experience'

Both men are staring at the screen now, at Ghost's muted video (where the Scotsman's skin is glistening in the mild rays of light, the colour of his tanned skin the perfect contrast to all the shades of green framing him, highlighting him as the one attraction to stare at, Mother Nature's gift to those who want to see, his movements flowing with the motion of the lush grass beneath him) and at the significant amount of likes and comments below the video clip constantly going up.

Kyle whispers "Damn good quality, mate. Looks professional even. The way you cut it too." while Johnny keeps wondering, lost in his memories, gesticulating with one hand.

"- before Lucy asked no-one in particular, although it was me she looked dead in the eyes, if anyone minded her doing sports without bra. Tha was the moment Dana asked whether it would be ok tae keep at least a tank top on or whether tha would limit the full experience the countryside could offer. And Valerie wanted tae know whether ah would still feel comfortable at all with dressed ladies around in this intimate situation we would share -"

Kyle leans closer to Ghost: "When did he take off his shirt?" - "Not long after you'd left."

"- like overcoming dictations of society and liberating yer inner goddess or some such... So when Paula asked fer the specific schedule - because it was nowhere tae be found as all of them claimed - ah told them nothin has been scheduled yet, tha we were workin on the issue, though ah have na idea what's goin on - but tha was the only way tae get rid of them..."

He blinks twice before leaning his chin into the palm of his hand, looking, somehow utterly lost, at Ghost and Kyle alike, as if they might be willing to offer an answer he knew they couldn't give...

"Well," Kyle tries a start, at the same time with Ghost: "Johnny."

That's all they can manage.

On passing, John Price sticks his head into the kitchen. "Simon, the missus would like to have a word with you before dinner. Regarding marketing strategies and video placements, I think. I didn’t know you were into that. Better not keep her waiting."

The door to her office is open so Ghost enters without knocking. She doesn't look up from her papers but there's something about her that tells him she's aware of his presence. Her finally lifting her head is his invitation to sit down opposite her, her huge desk only creating a distance between two people who would not be close to each other.

"For how long has this been on?"

No introduction at all. No need between the two of them. He knows the question is rhetorical.

She goes on. "Not even two hours. But there's quite a resonance. Have you got any idea what you've done?"

Sure he has. Dramatically underestimated the way people are willing to go unhinged in the seemingly impersonal spheres of the internet - or when being directly confronted with Johnny's barely covered body...

"Miscalculated Johnny's appeal."

She's grinning now as her eyes land back on the huge screen of her computer. Then her eyebrows draw together and she brings her face closer to what can be seen there right now. "Absolutely... Incredible...how his hair is shining in the sunlight... I really need to ask him about his shampoo... "

Bloody hell. I should have known. Should have posted it in the group chat only...

"Have you read the comments, Simon?"

"Not all of them yet."

"No problem. I've just listed some of my favourites. Of course the gifs are frozen on paper, but you'll get it." She hands him a printed page.

HannaSmith86: "Your Kilted Me can come over and revitalise my Wilted Me!🚿🚿🚿"

-‐---------------‐----------------

cherryfalls: "Some utterly handsome piece of Scotland!🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🦄"

-‐---------------‐----------------

DannyBoy: "Be brave, my heart... 💗💓💝"

-‐---------------‐----------------

MaggieMac:

"This better not awaken anything in me! 😳🤯😏"

-‐---------------‐----------------

butt'a'cup69: "could need some good stretching too🥴"

-‐---------------‐----------------

ananymous: "how i would let this scottish unicorn #€%* me with his #€%* before #€%* him #€%*

-‐---------------‐----------------

Judyssister: "Would love to see his more rural parts💋"

-‐---------------‐----------------

MoanaLisa: "➡️shortygo: most important question: the english riding coat or raw? 🥵😻😽😈

-‐---------------‐----------------

WellKnownAnonymous: "oh praise the highlands but don't forget his lowlands"

-‐---------------‐----------------

anonymous: "mmmmmoist 🥵💦"

-‐---------------‐----------------

ham'n'eggs: "Never thought I was a nature guy, but..."

-‐---------------‐----------------

greenlady: "Cernunnos, where are your antlers?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

jingleprincess: "The way you move your body is just so...so...

(gif by retardell)"

-‐---------------‐----------------

Knittin'Kittin78: "... nothing more attractive than a man being one with nature..."

-‐---------------‐----------------

sophisticatedlullaby: "Oh, foraging for ages..."

-‐---------------‐----------------

LuMarsh05: "Where can i book the course? Here i come! 🤤😏"

-‐---------------‐----------------

Some comments are new to him. Will it be necessary to delete the more explicit ones? he wonders briefly on shoving the sheet of paper back to her.

"Harmless fun. As quick as people are about to write stuff, they'll forget about it too. Nothing that should have any negative impact on our business. Quite the opposite. We need to show Soap. Might boost his ego."

"Oh, I'm not worried about Soap's ego. And you're right about these commenters. However, those are the ones that will spread the news, link us and make your video known even long after their original post. Soap would have enough to do if each of these posts reached only two potential guests.

And then there are those comments that would imply some actual interest in coming to us."

She has already prepared a second page that lands in front of him.

PeggyShawŒ: "is this private lessons or would i have to share kilted me 😉"

-‐---------------‐----------------

wormwoodartemisia: "👍Where can I sign up?!"

-‐---------------‐----------------

ShortyGo: "Timetable? Availability? Pricelist?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

kellylarson7/2000: "OMG!!!! I've just booked my stay!!!!"

-‐---------------‐----------------

Yogafreak1999: "Is there a list to sign in for the course? I couldn't find one... 😔"

-‐---------------‐----------------

BerlinerYogarolle: "Does it have to be a kilt or would a skirt do?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

GreenWanderer: "Can we book the course as a group?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

underamoonlitsky: "Hey! This looks so peaceful and relaxing. Is prior knowledge necessary for participation at your yoga course?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

1KnowingMeKnowingYou1: "How interesting! What positive effects do the exercises have on the body?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

alexnichollspublicrelationsmanagement: "Hello, dear 141-Farmers! Sorry if I overlooked that info but I couldn't find anything: What exactly would be the schedule? One hour on several days, several hours on one day or even intense seminars for a weekend or even for one whole week? I'm very interested in a weekend course or a week for a group of about 25. Have a nice day"

-‐---------------‐----------------

RachelWalsh: "Same question as PeggyShawŒ! Also: is it mixed groups?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

DamianBlack: "Is the yoga experience included in all the bookings? There is no schedule/price list shown on your page!"

-‐---------------‐----------------

cookieslover: "He's real, isn't he? If I book a stay, he'll be there, right?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

MasonJar: "Do I have to book a stay or can the yoga seminar be attended separately?"

-‐---------------‐----------------

Diana118: "The yoga experience would not be cancelled in case it rained, would it? I would definitely yoga with him in the rain! Whether group or one-to-one lessons doesn't matter. (I would prefer one-to-one!)"

He looks up at her. A statement: "You haven't told the old man."

"That's correct. Not before clarifying with you, of course. What would I fuss about to him? Especially with you supporting me the way you do."

"The way I do being what?" He knows what she has in mind, but he needs her to say it.

She leans back in her office chair, a smug smile on her lips as she purses them at the same time, lifting one eyebrow. "You know it, Simon."

"Use your words, love. That's always been the deal with me."

"Convince Soap to host your 'Kilted Me'-yoga course. You might not have had anything like this in mind, but there's a lot of money to make with."

For some time, they're staring at each other in silence. He could probably talk Johnny into this idea, but would Johnny really enjoy such lessons or merely do Simon a favour? He'd find out and take the responsibility in case Soap would dislike the idea. This joke was on him.

"What if MacTavish prefers to keep his sporty side to himself?"

"Choices have consequences, honey. The 'Kilted' is part of the title. If it's not Soap, then I'll put you in a kilt and have you show your sporty side."

"I'm almost tempted to let you try that, sweet'eart."

"Who said anything about trying?"

With a wicked grin he lets her believe that she might have won. "The people went crazy about Johnny's charme. Not me to compete with that."

"Don't underestimate the attraction that comes with a pair of strong, nice, long legs and a kilt, handsome."

"Nothing too appealing about some pale bloke who probably couldn't stop a kilt from riding up over his hips."

"Then you should be very careful, Simon. A traditional Scotsman doesn't wear anything beneath his squared piece of cloth - but neither does a ghost, eh?"

He slowly tilts his head so that the gesture almost looks like a bow that would not reach the rest of his body.

If it wasn't for the dark gleam in his burning eyes, she would dare to believe he gave in to her.

Then he's on his way out.

She calls after him. "Great camera work, by the way."

"Could just as well have been Garrick's video, you know?" - "Nah. Kyle's camera would have caught Soap differently - including more nature to the rural experience instead of adding more of Johnny's nature to the countryside."

She might have a point...

When Ghost returns to their dining table, you have already set the hot, steaming pie everybody loves so much in the middle of the table and taken a seat between Soap and Gaz. Though you are paying attention to what Soap is telling you, you can’t help but notice the quick look Simon and Kyle exchange. It feels as if they've just had a whole, unspoken conversation within one heartbeat.

"...wis pure surprised, fur a've ne'er seen any frogs aroond afore, especially nae four at th' identical time climbing me. Hae ye?"

You and Kyle shake your head in unison.

Then Kyle, seemingly holding back a laugh, turns to Ghost: "Soap has just informed us about a wild bunch of frogs making the area unsafe for those getting too close to the creek. Any experiences or thoughts of yours to share, Simon?"

"About croak and dagger agents? Well, seeing Johnny in their territory might have let them jump to the wrong conclusions... Maybe they thought he'd like to play some Hop-Scotch."

"Gey funny. Easy tae say fur ye! Ye dinnae ken whit ah hud tae dae tae git rid o' thaim! Ye hae na idea!"

"I'm in the picture, Johnny, believe me." While fetching his smartphone out of his pocket, he mumbles "Everybody is." before handing it to Soap, the screen showing again the latest add-on to their homepage.

From the very moment Soap catches sight of the title, he falls very silent.

With each passing second during which the Scotsman is watching into what his droll frog encounter has been transformed, you can see how all the strange pieces of his conversation with their guests fall into place. Each tiny progress of understanding is written on his face.

It's a clip of six minutes. Underlaid with not only the soft sound of a happily flowing creek, but also with a solemn, instrumental piece of a yearning bagpipe, accompanying its compatriot as if the two of them were made for each other.

For Simon, it's six minutes of growing, palpable noiselessness - which have started a dizzy ringing in his head after the first minute -because Soap refuses to say anything.

Then, as soon as he's through, he goes back to different moments, lifts the screen closer to his eyes, zooms in now and then, reading as well. Still keeping mum.

It's nerve-wrecking. Right now, Ghost would rather be... targeted by a sniper, maybe? Well, actually, that is exactly what's going to happen...

He cannot disappoint Johnny...

Finally. Finally looking up, Soap decides to address his former superior.

""Oh, to be countryside under this man and all around…"?! Christ. This is serious, Simon. Filming me wi'oot mah consent 'n' putting it oan th' homepage wi'oot asking allowed…"

Johnny is right. There’s a sudden pain in Simon's stomach that comes with the realisation of the impact his joke? prank? whatsoever actually has. How did this fuckin stupid idea of putting the clip on their page even come to his mind? It's true that Soap has already posted a variety of fitness videos but of course that doesn't mean he could decide over the Scotsman's head... There must be something about retirement and the permanent close private proximity with his former teammates that actually fucks up his brains... or maybe he could blame the Scotsman's shampoo? Anyway, he will have to find a way to make it up to his friend...

"Listen, Johnny, I'm sorry. I'll take the video off and make sure it'll disappear-"

Soap doesn't blink. His tone is distinctively serious. "That wilnae dae." Suddenly, his stern expression is taken over by a bright, wolfish grin. "This bloody video looks pure dead brilliant. So muckle better than a' the ones ah took o' myself! Ye can even see they frogs if ye take a really close keek! However, choices hae consequences, LT." Second time within 30min to get to hear this... "From noo on, ye will take on tae filming me whenever ah'm feelin th' need. Ahh, ye'r sae guid at this. Should hae kent earlier."

If he notices, then Soap doesn't comment on the sheer relief springing to life in the gaze Simon has fixed on Johnny.

"Plus: ah wasn't aware that doing gymnastics in a kilt would add sic pure tough dynamics tae every exercise... We'll hae tae explore this further."

Doesn't sound too much like a punishment for now...

"Additionally, just for the records: Ah think mah freish shampoo does mak' a difference."

You watched the video together with Soap and followed Soap an Simon's talk afterwards without getting involved, just like Kyle. Now you are checking the clip again as well as the comments on your own smartphone.

"He's right. You can actually see something on his leg here. Look!", you remark and show Kyle while Johnny and Simon go on discussing the way the video is designed. Kyle nodds. "True. Though I doubt that anyone else would notice without being told." Then his eyes land on the amount of comments - a drastical increase since Ghost last showed him. This post is definitely the most successful one on the homepage - by far.

"I've got the feeling that this might have some relevant consequences for our business," Kyle whispers to you. On his own smartphone, he's just checked the stats regarding the bookings - only to find that their number has been going up proportionally to the comments and likes on Soap's yoga clip.

You're impressed with the chart he's showing you. "We should really celebrate this. What do you think? A nice, cosy private dinner party? All of you've been working so much. You could need that," you point out.

"Lovely idea. Definitely have to get some dishes that match the occasion." - "Yes, it needs to be typically Soap... Something classically Scottish." Both of you start thinking.

"Not to forget the frogs," Kyle states and a wide, satisfied grin appears on his face. "I remember your fantastic Cock-a-leekie soup. Now what about some Frog-a-creekie? Maybe based on some smoked fish and a pistou made of watercress? Added on top, this would remind of a green frog." You love his idea and don't have any doubt that he'll support you with figuring out how to best combine all possible ingredients. You flash him a bright smile. The two of you share the same enthusiasm when it comes to forming ideas and trying them out. He's a main reason why it's so easy for you to feel home here. You feel that you are cherished. He simply makes you feel part of the family. As if it was the easiest thing to do...

How come these folks always manage to move you so much? It is overwhelming and you're not sure you'll ever get used to this. You swallow.

"Sounds great," you tell him. "I'll prepare a list later."

The distraction is welcome: Now Simon's voice catches your interest so that your attention shifts to him.

"-comments are surprisingly explicit. I guess some of them will stay in my mind."

You feel the need to share your personal best of. "Yes, it’s hard to believe what messages people leave on the homepage of a holistic, traditional farm that's open for guests and families. Let me quote AnneWarburton: 'I must never be allowed to frolic around this guy near the creek. He'd make me make the water wetter!' I mean, is this her actual name?"

Because you feel comfortable with each other, all of you can have a relaxed laugh in the cosy atmosphere.

Ghost's video has created an interesting topic of conversation with the reactions of the commenters.

Despite the smug grins Soap can’t help on reading some of the more forward comments, there's one post that stands out. Though this one could probably be understood as corny by some people. However, it reaches deeper into his soul, because it touches a place there that extends far beyond the reference to sheer physical attraction.

Nicneven 🌐💧🌬: "This personification, this pure embodiment of all forces of nature… Such sensuality… The fresh breathing green, the golden light shattering into diamonds on his skin, the creek praising their bond in countless tears of joy… This unity of nature and man. This is life."

It fuels his energies. He's already read it thrice - but he won't tell the others. Will name a different post. Lets the others tell their choices first.

Gaz is next. "The 'Wilted Me' clearly left an impression. But all I really have to know is 'mmmmoist'."

Soap looks at Ghost expectantly. Of course he gets the hint. "S'ppose," Simon points at the specific post, "'the English riding coat' is my favourite so far. Reduced to essential, basic needs. With historical awareness to a significant degree of situational irony. Unambigously pointing out their clear preference. It's almost poetic in its own bluntness."

Impressive.

Now all eyes are on him for a moment. Silence.

Then Johnny pats Ghost's shoulder compassionately. "Ah kin cop it too."

"English, MacTavish."

"Sorry, sir. Let me remind you: We're in bonnie scotland noo."

"Much better here than I assumed, I have to admit," Simon's voice has got a soft undertone you wouldn't hear too often.

All of you are so much more comfortable than you ever expected to be, given all the circumstances. You take in the three men who share so much more memories than you'll ever know - but who are also willing to make new ones, together with you as well. This is a gift you traesure. So do they.

"Would also love to hear what the frogs got to say to our nature boy...", Kyle wonders.

"Ach, ah can tell. Loves me dearly, every single one. But 'course they wilnae leave any comments. We're neighbours - they'd be recognisable far tae easily!"

"So many fans, right?", you tease playfully.

"Aye! Just th' missus might be a bawherr pure upset, eh, Simon? Bet she's got bonny muckle work at hands noo cheers tae you."

Ghost purses his lips. "Think she's a real fan of yours too, Johnny. 's got a printed list of her favourite comments. Two pages so far."

"Sure. She adores me! Tough lassie. Will mak' ye pay", Soap points at the video, "for yer moment o' weakness, ah bet."

Moment of clarity...

Simon grimaces in mock distress.

"Totally obsessed with that yoga-idea, she is, and will have the lessons held - one way or the other."

The Scotsman eyes him with interest. "Maybe ye'r just th' richt man fer that. Could dae ye some guid tae get connected wi' th' scots land, emotionally 'n' physically. Sweet, rich grass is th' softest mat fer yer skin."

"You like lolling in the grass, Johnny? Then why not make a course out of it yourself?"

"That micht suit ye. Ye juist wantae pull yer ain heid oot o' th' noose. At least hae th' decency tae ask me properly."

Simon exhales deeply, grabs a cherry tomato and drops to his knee, offering the amazed Scotsman the small red fruit as if his life depended on it: "Johnny, will you do me the honour of hosting the 'Kilted Me"-yoga lessons?"

Must be the tomato that seals the deal. His friend accepts. "Aye, ah will. Juist a bawherr wiggle wi' mah bahookie? Ah can dae that."

You laugh in amusement. "You think that's all yoga is about? There's more to it than just wiggling your bum!"

"Thir's aye mair tae it whin ah wiggle wi' mah bahookie, bonnie!" The way he raises his eyebrows can only be described as lascivious. The way he chews his cherry tomato too...

You sigh exaggeratedly, faux-scolding: "That's exactly what I fear... Soon this farm will have a reputation for 'adult sports' only..."

He waves it off with a grin. "Dogs that bark dinnae bite. None o' they frivolous commenters will actually caw up 'ere. 'n' if thay dae, we'll be able tae deal wi' it.

Ah bet they'd be less clingy than my handful o' frogs. Speaking if frogs. We should call the course by its name. Tha would be 'Frog Gymnastics', more correctly." Soap winks at you, grabs a big slice of your pie and turns to go to take the phone call he mentioned during breakfast.

Kyle shouts after him, grinning: "You can’t guarantee the frogs! Additionally, 'Frog Gymnastics' would definitely sell worse than 'Rural Countryside Yoga Experience'!"

Sitting back on his chair, Ghost shrugs. "I guess, as long as our bonnie lad hosts the course together with his kilt, the deal could probably even be 'Welcome to the wetland! Meet the Leech'."

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justwinginglife · 16 hours ago

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Tomorrow

Guyssssss- I haven't written smut in a HOT minute, so sorry if it's sub par, I am warming back up lmao. But I just find it so funny that the thing that gets me back into writing smut is the new Caleb trailer. Anyway, yes this is NSFW, 18+, yada yada. Please don't send hate, I know as much about Caleb's character as you do, and probably less because I'm not as attentive as some of yall, but I am just as feral after the new trailer so I HAD to write a fic. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was-”

Familiar eyes gazed back at you, halting your train of thought in its ever spiraling tracks. Even in your dreams (and your nightmares, which had lately begun to outnumber the dreams), his eyes weren’t as vibrant as they were now, and you’d started to hate that you couldn’t even remember that one detail about him properly when you’d just laid him to rest not three months ago. You never thought you’d see those shimmering eyes of his ever again, but now there they were, bright as day, and your voice had chosen this moment to sink back down your throat and bury itself deep in your stomach.

He looked away, only giving you a quick nod to convey his hasty acceptance of your apology, before he turned to leave.

“You’re… you’re…” Your words stumbled through your lips like a baby learning how to walk for the first time and you cursed yourself internally for your sudden ineptitude. It wasn’t like you’d never thought about what you might say to him if you’d ever been given a chance to see him again, if it ever happened that there was some god out there to take pity on you and see fit to return his life to him, or if ever there came a time when you obtained the ability to travel back to the past and undo your previous mistakes, protect him like you should’ve, but now that he was actually standing here before you, seemingly alive and well, leaving you possibly blameless (when you’d done nothing but fault yourself these past few agonizing months), you found that any possible words you could summon fell short of anything you actually wanted to convey.

You settled for a simple, “You’re… alive?”

At your words, his shoulders tensed and his eyes - the eyes you’d always loved so much, the eyes you’d grown to miss so much- suddenly began to dart back and forth, as though scanning his surroundings. You recognized that behavior. You’d been taught to assess for threats in the very same way.

You weren’t sure what was going on, but you wanted to touch him. To reassure him. You reached a hand out but hesitated a moment before your fingers graced his sleeve. When you made the decision to rescind your touch, a flicker of pain flashed in his eyes but it quickly disappeared as though you’d merely imagined it.

You cleared your throat, drawing his attention (and anxiety) once more. You knew you shouldn’t be talking to him, not like this, not in the middle of the street, but you didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to again. Whoever was threatening him would have to wait. “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone I once knew. He used to always climb up my balcony and sneak in without warning to play tricks on me. I miss him doing that. Sometimes I leave the door unlocked in case he ever wants to again.” You paused, letting your words sink in. “But it appears I was mistaken, so I’ll let you go about your day. Excuse me.” And with that, you continued on your way home, hoping and praying that he’d gotten your hint.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caleb hesitated at the door.

He shouldn’t be here. What the hell was he doing here? He’d stayed away all these months, endured all the emptiness and all the loneliness all on his own, suffering in silence to keep you safe, only to throw it all away again just because you’d asked, just because you’d missed him. He’d known you would miss him; it shouldn’t have changed anything. Shouldn’t have changed his goal, shouldn’t have affected his plans. But he hadn’t expected to run into you on the street like that, in a neighborhood so far from your own, at the most random hour of the day, and he hadn’t expected the way his heart would throb in his chest at the sight of you, at the sound of you. He hadn’t expected the way your words would move him. The way your words would remind him what you meant to him. How much you meant to him. How much you always meant to him.

He knew he was being selfish, climbing up your balcony like this, when it could very well put the both of you in danger again, just because he wanted to see you, but was it so selfish to want to dry your tears? Was it so selfish to want to hold you in his arms, to stop your shaking? To remind you that he still loved you? To ask you not to forget him?

So he turned the door handle. You had left it unlocked like you said. He wanted to laugh and he wanted to scream. How could you be so careless? Didn’t you know what kinds of people there were lurking in the shadows? He’d have to reprimand you properly before he took his leave.

When he entered your room, shutting the door quietly behind him, there was no one in the bed. His brows furrowed. You’d left the door unlocked, so where were you?

Arms surrounded him from behind and his heart thundered in his chest. If he hadn’t caught a whiff of your perfume, he might’ve assumed you were an assailant and slammed your head through a wall. God, you were so careless. Didn’t you know he could’ve hurt you when you snuck up on him like that?

“Idio-” He turned to hiss at you, but stopped when he saw your tear stained eyes and quivering smile.

“You came.” You whispered. Your arms around him trembled but your grasp was firm, as though he might disappear at any moment if you let him slip away. It broke his heart. What had he done to you?

“I did. I’m here. I’m here.” He repeated, wrapping his arms around you protectively as he rested his head atop yours. He held you until the shaking subsided. “I’m… I’m sorry.” The words were strained, and he knew they’d never make up for anything, and they’d never change what diverging paths they’d have to return to after tonight was over, but he felt the need to offer his apology to you anyway, useless as it was.

“It’s… it’s okay. I don’t know… I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you have your reasons. You wouldn’t do something like this to hurt me. I just… I missed you. More than you could possibly know.”

His heart shattered into pieces at your words. “I… I know. Because I missed you too. So much.”

You smiled at that and he felt undeserving of such a smile, not when he was the reason it’d disappeared in the first place.

“Stay with me tonight.” You said firmly, your voice finally finding its strength.

He shook his head apologetically. “I can only stay for an hour or two. I shouldn’t even be here at all; it’s dangerous to stay the whole night.”

“But I won’t be able to see you again, right? After this, it’s all over? So stay with me for the night. Just one night. Give me something to hold onto for the rest of my days.”

He winced. When you put it like that, it was hard to refuse. Didn’t he owe you this? Didn’t you deserve this much? He’d be gone before you woke up; the least he could do was hold you tight and fight off your nightmares as you slept. So he begrudgingly agreed, telling himself it was for your sake that he laid beside you, not wanting to admit that he also just wanted one more chance to pretend that you were his. To pretend that he’d be waking up to find you singing some song in the shower or flipping pancakes in the kitchen in the morning. To pretend that you and him could go on like this forever, that you could simply belong to each other for an eternity.

So he climbed into bed beside you. He climbed into bed and conveniently ignored the fact that, knowing you as well as he did, you should’ve asked him by now what was going on. Knowing you, you should’ve demanded that he stay. Knowing you, you should’ve insisted you could fight whoever was against them together. And he should’ve told you that you were being naive and that wasn’t how the world worked. He should’ve had to claim he was doing this to protect you. But you asked no questions and he gave no answers. So maybe he was being naive too, when he simply held you and figured that holding you was all there would be to it.

And then you turned over and kissed him.

And his heart stopped.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You could feel his tension.

You could almost drown in it- it was so thick.

But you kissed him again and again, until it began to melt away, as you murmured, “If all we have is tonight, I’m going to make the most of it.”

He was hesitant at first, and you figured he would be. You’d always had this unspoken connection with him, but neither of you had ever admitted to it and you were sure he chalked your relationship up as nothing more than adoptive siblings or childhood friends. But time was running out and you needed him with every fiber of your being. And you needed him to know that.

You threaded your fingers through his hair as you pressed all your passion into his lips. Eventually, his hands began to find your waist, pulling you closer, as he deepened the kiss. His tongue snaked its way into your mouth, tangling with yours in a messy dance. When you let out a moan, he couldn’t help but groan, knocking his hips against yours in a desperate attempt to satisfy himself. You returned the friction, dry humping the bulge that had begun to grow in his pants.

And suddenly, he was kissing you harshly now, not caring who heard you, not caring who could be lurking in the shadows. If he died tonight, he’d die happy. If he hurt you, he’d apologize later.

His hands fisted in your hair as he tugged your head back so he could devour the length of your neck, leaving a burning trail of bruises in his wake. When he practically tore your nightgown off, hungrily sucking and biting at your breasts, pinching your peaked nipples in between his fingers, just like he’d always dreamed of doing, and you suddenly whined his name, he nearly lost it.

His whole life, he’d always seen you as someone to protect, someone to safeguard, someone to watch over, even if he knew you could take care of yourself. But right now, with you arching at his touch, with you whimpering at every press of his lips, at every drag of his tongue, he couldn’t help but want to utterly ruin you. He wanted to make a mess of your hair, to make a mess of your pussy, to make a mess of your life. He wanted to make you need him, to make you obsessed with him, to make you entirely devoted and dependent on him and only him.

He wanted to fuck you so hard that you were bedridden for the rest of your life. He wanted to fuck you so deep that you felt his dick in your throat when he drilled it into your pussy. He wanted to fill you up so entirely that his cum was still spilling out of your used up cunt months after he’d left you. If he got you pregnant, at least you were sure to remember him.

He was completely lost in his addiction to you, mind swimming with salacious thoughts, when you suddenly cried out in pain, jolting him from his deranged state. He quickly let go of you, breathing heavily as he attempted to regain some control over his current, sorry state. He was about to apologize when you let out a frustrated huff.

“Why’d you stop?” You demanded.

He blinked.

You could tell he didn’t understand. You dragged his hand to your soaked panties. “I didn’t want you to stop.”

He sucked in a sharp breath in attempts to steady himself, but he couldn’t help the feeling that had begun to surge through his entire body. He wanted you. And he wanted you NOW. And if you weren’t going to stop him, he wasn’t going to stop until you were on the verge of losing consciousness and he was shooting blanks into your fucked out cunt.

“You just woke up the devil, baby. Now you’re going to have to take everything I give you like a good, little girl.”

Wasting no time at all, he yanked down your panties, tossing them god knows where. You’d have no need for them tonight. You only had time to gasp, before he began jamming his fingers inside your dripping pussy.

On more than one occasion (more than even ten or a hundred), he’d imagined how he’d take you for the first time. He’d be patient, gently coax you open with a finger, then two, maybe three. He’d lovingly dote on your clit, teasing it with his tongue, before trailing down to lap up your juices. Maybe his tongue would work your pussy open even wider for him before he finally, slowly, inserted himself inside you. He’d only go as fast as you wanted. He’d be as gentle as you needed. He’d tell you that you were doing so good, tell you that he loved you so much, tell you how perfect you were.

But he’d already fucked that up tonight when he started with three fingers and pumped them so roughly, so hastily, into your cunt that if you hadn’t already been soaked, it might’ve hurt. And then he got impatient and decided you were spread wide enough for his cock and yanked his pants down his legs. Before you knew it, he was flipping you over, pinning your wrists harshly against your back, before he slammed his dick so deep inside you that you felt it in your stomach.

“Caleb!” You groaned into the pillow, biting down on it.

“Shiiit,” He hissed. “Shit, shit, shit.” With every cuss, he thrust into you harder and harder. “That’s right, baby. Say my fucking name. Remember who makes you feel this good. Not fucking Zayne, that’s for sure.”

Maybe you were feeling particularly masochistic tonight, but when you heard his words, noting the hint of insecurity he’d probably been hiding your entire life, you couldn’t help but feel devious. Letting out an exaggerated moan, you replied, “Ughhhhh, I bet Zayne would split open my pussy so nicely though… I bet he could last for hours.”

Suddenly the bed snapped as the weight of his evol drove you barreling into the floor. “Hours, huh? I’m going to make you mine all goddamn night and you won’t even remember your own name by the time I’m finished with you, let alone anyone else’s.”

He made good on his word.

It was a good thing you weren’t particularly attached to your furniture, because he nearly destroyed the entire bedroom, fucking you against every square inch of it. It wasn’t until you both literally had no cum left to release that he finally let you rest in his arms. The two of you quickly fell into a deep slumber beside each other, your bodies exhausted from the brutality of the night.

When he woke up in the morning, both of his hands had been cuffed to the bed frame. He frowned, tugging at them as he called his evol to aid him, but it was no use. You’d put evol blocking cuffs on both his hands. When he searched what he could see of the room for you and didn’t find you, he called out your name, frustrated. When you didn’t answer, he called again. “Baby!”

You popped your head into the room, grinning. “Mm, so I’m baby now? I like the sound of that.”

He was about to chide you when he saw a plate full of pancakes in your hands. Pancakes. He’d woken up to you making pancakes. Just like he dreamed of. His heart was practically bursting.

“Open!” You smiled as you fed him a forkful.

He groaned at how deliciously sweet they were. When he leaned forward for another bite, his cuffs yanked him back, reminding him of the situation he found himself in. He huffed. “Care to tell me why I’m handcuffed?”

You smiled again, your smile as sweet as the syrup on his tongue. “Oh, that’s an easy question to answer. Because you’re not leaving until you tell me what’s going on, and when you do leave, you’re taking me with.”

He scoffed. So that was why you hadn’t asked him any questions last night. You had already planned this. “Taking you with? Do you know how dangerous it is out there?”

You waved your gun in his face. “Hunter. Remember? I can handle myself.”

He rolled his eyes. And there it was. He knew you were like that. He knew you’d take on the world for him. This was the part where he said you were naive, that things didn’t always work out the way you wanted them to, that you’d be better if he stayed away from you. But as he watched you munch on your freshly made pancakes without a care in the world, snuggling up to him like it was just another Tuesday, he couldn’t bring himself to rebuke you.

He only loved you more for it.

Here you were, feeding him breakfast, sitting in his lap and telling him everything would be okay. So maybe it was his turn to be a little naive. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe, after all the secrecy and the lies and the hiding, maybe you were the only person in the world he could trust. And maybe he trusted you to make it okay. Maybe you would be safer without him, maybe you would have a good life without him, but maybe it’d never be a great life without him either. Maybe he didn’t want you to have a life without him. Maybe he didn’t want to have a life without you.

Maybe tomorrow he’d make you pancakes.

Maybe tomorrow he’d make you babies.

Maybe tomorrow could start today.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter @tbaluver

#loveanddeepspace #lads #love and deep space #lnds #l&ds #lads caleb #lnds caleb #caleb x mc #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #caleb lads #han's library

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silverlining-ships · 3 hours ago

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I had someone DM me recently asking for tips for creating an SU sona and drawing in the style, which is one of my favorite topics to think about and discuss!! I'm definitely not the end-all-be-all of SU style replication and have so much to learn, but I wanted to share my method for anyone interested in creating SU art! So here's a Steven Universe Style Replication guide!

Before you start:

Gather LOTS of references. references EVERYWHERE. I have a google drive folder specifically for Jasper references, but I plan on having folders for each character as well. If you know you're going to draw a specific character a lot, gather references!!!

also, gather references of characters you base your S/I on physically. my sona has traits from both Steven and Connie's body types, so I used photos from their references when creating mine - I specifically used Connie's turnaround as inspiration for the height/posing of mine!

((you don’t HAVE to create a turnaround ofc, but thinking of your sona as one that needs to “follow the rules” of the other characters’ designs can help creating something that looks proportional and accurate!))

Colorwise, it’s fun to consider your f/o or the characters you interact with before creating an outfit palette -> I specifically use yellow as a base color because of the way it meshes with Jasper’s orange pallet, as well as being complementary to Steven’s pink and Connie’s blue

Drawing:

SU has the benefit (and curse) of inconsistent style and size references. it's partially proportions to the other characters, yea, but it's more in the shape language you use when drawing in the style, which is why references are so helpful!

(unrelated but I love how this shows how much I still struggle drawing jasper.... even after six months straight of exclusively drawing her. sigh.)

take these drawings I threw together! these are four completely different characters, but they all feel different because of the shape language used:

even with my own style bleeding in, really focusing in on what their core body is expressing is what demonstrates the character.

this translates to creating your own sona, too - think about how your sona would fall into the shape language. my sona is similar to Connie, but a bit curvier and stockier, which shows especially in the core of the character design!

I know the "belted shape" concept has gone around this fandom for years, but I'd recommend not depending on it as in my opinion it doesn't translate nearly as well as just a general concept of the form - like how it doesn't work as well with Peridot when she becomes tiney

[obligatory PSA that anatomy knowledge/practice helps so much here - I've been drawing SU for YEARRSSSSS but my understanding of the forms got so much better when I started practicing gesture drawing/anatomy practice]

Expressions/facial anatomy:

so again, SU has so much style inconsistency that the way you draw expressions will vary based on the boarder - this EXCELLENT because this means expressions are really easy to pass in the style! but some visuals anyway:

most of the time, faces are extremely simplified with one guideline across the face, a little bit higher than where the "cheek" starts if the character has a cheek

if more masculine, the guideline will be a bit higher and the eyes will be shorter

an interesting note with Spinel specifically is that her eyebrow expression is done through her hairline, which is part of her really fun 20s inspired look!

Lineart:

i feel like if anything really makes something look "canon", it's how the lineart is done in a finished piece. if I compare with a couple fake screens/edits I've attempted:

the lineart makes all the difference here!!!!

for specs reasons if you're curious, I use procreate with the "baskerville" brush on a higher stream line setting. I do not have pressure sensitivity, so all of my lines are hand-weighted, but if you have pressure sensitivity you might have an easier time here!

facial details tend to be slightly thinner. eyes tend to be a little bit thicker on either the top/bottom or sides, although it depends

outer borders, major clothing, outer hair tufts and other major features are the thickest lines

sometimes lines aren't used at ALL for various features (gem facets, some more minor clothing details, like the bottom of Lapis' top or the waistline on Jasper's uniform)

[random screenshots I pulled as examples]

the key part with lineart and style replication, though, is that is varies WILDLY by style. as long as you have some line weighting it's really easy to get it to pass as SU style

lastly I HIGHLY recommend practicing screenshot edits or fake screenshots if you can!!! I feel like the silly edits I do really help emphasize my understanding of what it takes to make something look like the style, and my little journey into making fake screenshots/"canon" screenshots is a big part of how I've learned to draw in SU style!!!

That's all I have for y'all, make all the SU art in the world!! 2025 will be the Year of Steven Universe Art!!!!

#steven universe will never be over so long we have Fake Screenshots under our belts......#I hope this was helpful!!!#silver's art #steven universe #su fanart #tutorial #art tutorial #self ship #fictional other #steven universe self ship

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arliedraws · 11 hours ago

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I've seen your posts about AI. I also know it's a pretty polarizing topic and what the majority opinion is, especially in regards to art and writing. And being an artist myself, I totally agree that it sucks, like you have to pay attention and all, but.... I hardly dare to say this because I know how emotional the discourse around AI is, especially on a platform like tumblr, which sometimes seems so strong that I don't participate in a discussion about this topic at all because I feel like people here would hound me for it, but I still use different AI software, but not in the way that I use it to create something that I can publish and pretend that I spent hours creating it myself. I think it can be really helpful.

If I need information about something quickly, it's more efficient than spending a lot of time searching different websites for a particular piece of information.

I also like to think of it as a group member when I'm working on projects. That doesn't mean that I get the ideas from it and then just copy them. In the same way that group work is beneficial, you pass the ball to each other with the AI and exchange ideas that you can then develop further. Or it can help you if you're looking for another word to describe something better, like a dictionary. And I still know how to use real dictionaries or do proper research, because I know that AI can make mistakes and you shouldn't believe everything. Just like it is with information from the internet in general. Anyway, now I come to the actual “confession”, which is that I also use it, not to let the AI create the art, but as a tool to help myself creating it. I usually use reference images for drawings to help me get the scene itself or the anatomy correct etc. Andy capture it properly. But sometimes I have a very specific scene in mind and can't find a suitable reference, and it can take me hours to find something that fits. So I like to use AI to create that reference for me, because unfortunately I don't have people modeling for me and personally it helps me extremely to have examples to work from.

Idk where exactly I'm going with this. But since the general opinion on generative ai seems very clear here, I wanted to finally get this off my chest because I always kept my moth shut being afraid of how others might react, even though I think that my methods are still quite legitimate, as I still do the real work myself. Anyway, I'm looking forward to your opinion.

Ahhhh okay, well, thanks for the vulnerability here.

You know my opinion on AI. I’m not going to tell you you’re a terrible person or anything for using it, but I’m also not going to justify your personal decisions. Instead, I invite you to change your perspective.

My opinion is this—and it’s more of a question: why are you creating the art? I’m going to hit a few of your main points and just pose questions because I think this gets to be more philosophical than a cut-and-dry “if you use AI, you are a bad guy.” Because I don’t think that—I also don’t think you should use it.

The reason I don’t blame people for being attracted to using AI is because as human beings, we’re designed to find the most efficient way to do things. Thinking and using creativity is a huge caloric expenditure. Right? Naturally, we’re attracted to ways that things can be done FOR us and reduce our cognitive load. Your brain is working as it was designed! But this is also a really cool way to take away your voice and mold you into someone who cannot think for themself.

(This is also what you’re doing by “confessing” to me. You’re unloading your cognitive/emotional burden so you can keep on doing the thing you know is probably a bit shady.)

First of all, I don’t know you, so I don’t know what your art training is. However, you need to train your brain to start coming up with stuff on your own. I am really sorry, but I don’t buy the “I don’t have enough references.” When there are free resources like Unsplash.com and even just looking at buildings around you, the furniture in your house, etc, you DO have the references. But you need to learn how to use them. This is a tool.

Second thing, if the reference isn’t exactly what you need, then you need to start learning volume and shapes. You need to study anatomy. Eventually, you will be able to look at a reference and understand how perspective works and be able to transform a reference in your head to what you need. OR - start combining references. If I’m doing a full scene, I probably have about 5-6 reference photos I’m working from. This is a tool.

Third, start taking photos of yourself for reference images. If you can’t find what you need, do that. I periodically have to go into my camera roll to delete the god-awful reference poses for myself. This is a tool.

Fourth, start a collection of things that “strike you.” Start a reference blog. Have a folder filled with images that intrigue you. Personally, I take an insane number of photos when I’m traveling. For example, I went to a mansion for a tour and took photos of all the early 20th century objects and rooms so I would have these in my arsenal. This is a tool.

My fundamental question is this—why are you having an algorithm create what’s in your head for you? Why not learn how to do these things instead? Your imagination is so cool. The process of creating is making happy mistakes. What do you think Bob Ross would say to you? When you use AI, you’re just copying. The imaginative part has been done for you. You’re just a tool of the robot.

We do so much to avoid frustration, but frustration is the part of creating. When we can see the skills we need to learn, that’s how we know we’re improving. It means you’re trying, and when you press through that discomfort, that’s when you grow. Stop seeing this as a block to your end goal but as an opportunity to continue your infinite journey as an artist. Celebrate that there are so many beautiful things to learn.

Additionally, please don’t see AI as a group project. A group project indicates that all parties involved consent to participate, and I know most artists do not want their art to be used in this way. Imagine if you learned to do all the things I’ve described above and taken time/years/frustration/love to develop these skills, and someone years later then took your work and said “It’s okay - we ALL contributed to this.” It’s just not true.

The artists you see online don’t simply sit down and draw a bunch of cool stuff without practice. I watch Youtube videos of professionals. I draw a gazillion sketches of just MOUTHS or hands so I can create my own references in my mind. Why would you deprive yourself of this?

Look, I think it comes down to this: if you’re looking for efficiency and ‘getting it done’ quickly, then why are you doing it? Are you enjoying the process? If you aren’t, why are you even doing it?

If you need a robot to imagine something for you, then you don’t actually want to do it.

#art isn’t easy #but you can do it #i have been drawing for decades longer than AI has existed #so i don’t have a ton of sympathy #anti ai

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