#Not easy to do on the classic paint program!

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

Okay okay, hear me out.

A bantery sort of annoying best friend trope with Miguel O'Hara. Like, hes stubborn, but reader is just as stubborn and hard headed. So like, on a mission Miguel is like "Why werent you paying attention?" and SpiderPerson!Reader is like "You're a very distracting man." And then like, the classic upside down Spiderman kiss. Apologies if this is a mess, the brainrot is real.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: None, just some good ol' fluff paired alongside some classic best friends to lovers. You know the dealio :3

It wasn’t easy being best friends with Miguel O’Hara.

He was stubborn, stoic, annoying, always thought he was right, and incredibly grumpy (almost all the time! It must be exhausting) amongst many other things. But all those things made him who he was, alongside the kindness and care he has for everyone, hidden behind that Spider-Society leader guise.

It wasn’t easy, but he was your best friend just as you were his. Your favourite person amongst the millions of people on this planet, and the billions upon trillions of people in the multiverse.

But it was even more difficult when you had the biggest raging crush on him. You felt like a little teenager, lost in the vastness of your own heart that quickly grew more and more fond of the person you loved with each day that passed.

Your feelings made you act silly and lovesick (and you knew damn well he noticed, he just never said anything about it), but they weren’t going anywhere for the time being so here they stayed.

They weren’t too great during missions though.

~

“Hey, Miguel~,” you say, sidling up to him with a stupid grin on your face. He stops you with a palm on your face, not allowing you to get too close.

“Ugh, what-?” he says, pulling his hand back in disgust. “Did you just lick me?!”

“Don’t put your hand in front of my face then, you should know by now the consequences of that,” you say with a tsk, before bursting into laughter at his expression.

“Unfortunately,” he sighs, rubbing it onto your suit. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” you say, pretending to be confused.

“What do you mean what- The mission? Are you ready for the mission we’re supposed to be going on in the next minute,” he huffs incredulously.

“Obviously, Miguel,” you snort. “How long have we been doing this job? Have you so little faith in me?” you ask.

“Yes,” he deadpans, and you gasp.

“How dare you?” you say, pressing a hand to your chest in offence.

“You are the most dramatic person I know,” he says, glancing over toward you as he programs the watch to the universe you were both headed to.

“You love me,” you say in turn.

“Unfortunately,” he says, and you grin widely.

“Awwww, Miguel~,” you say, pulling him into a hug that he hesitantly returns (though you knew he loved hugs, he would just rather die than admit it).

“Alright, alright,” he says pulling away. “Focus up, we need to be on our A-game for this guy.”

“Aye, aye, captain! Lead the way,” you say, and he rolls his eyes but can’t quite conceal the smile on his face at your antics before his mask reforms on his face.

Together you both make your way through the portal, getting transported past thousands of worlds in mere seconds before arriving at the one with the anomaly.

“Oh, cool~,” you say with a childlike wonder. Around you is a world that looked like it came straight out of a painting, everything looking almost acrylic in nature and beauty.

“You saw this in the briefing,” he says to you but looks around himself with a sort of wonder.

“A picture on a screen is entirely different from seeing something like this in real life, Miguel,” you retort, still looking around in awe. Looking down at your own form, your costume was blended in splotches of your iconic colours, like you had walked right out of a portrait.

He doesn’t say anything to that, instead patting your head once before walking away toward the mission site.

“C’mon. The faster we finish up, the sooner we can head back. We can have a movie night back at my place, yeah?” he says, and you perk up immediately before running after him.

“That sounds perfect, ‘cause I baked too many cookies that I don’t know what to do with,” you say embarrassed, knowing full well that you had baked them for him. He always did love your baking.

You notice the side of his mask shifts upward slightly, a telltale sign that he was happy even with the mask concealing most of his expressions but you don’t say anything, only smiling softly to yourself.

“Lyla, do a full sweep of the building before we head in. I don’t want any surprises,” he calls out, and the AI pops up immediately.

“Ugh, so bossy,” she says, and you snort.

“You could say that again,” you say in turn, while Miguel only sighs.

“Are you two done insulting me yet?” he says, and you turn to face him, walking backwards as you do.

“Never!” you say, before you’re snatched off of the ground with a yelp. He calls out your name, immediately swinging in after you.

“NOT COOL DUDE,” you shout to the villain who had his tentacles wrapped around your waist, dangling you upside down as she stuck to the ceiling. “Shouldn’t you be in the sea, doing…whatever octopuses do?”

“This seems a lot more fun,” the villain says, her voice a gurgling sort of low tone that sounds much more ominous than it should.

You shoot your webs out onto the ceiling, trying to pull yourself up and out of her grasp to no avail, her hold too strong.

Bit by bit her hold continued to tighten, inhibiting your ability to breathe.

“H-hey, we can talk about this right?” you gasp out, but before you know it Miguel was flying up toward you.

He looked so serious and intent on getting you out, his muscles flexing as he held on to his webbing.

Quite frankly, it was hot.

So hot that you failed to notice that Miguel had smacked you out of the villain’s grasp, expecting you to swing yourself out. Instead, you fall to the floor with a thud and a loud groan. It wasn’t a far fall, and all your limbs were still intact but the wind that was already limited in your lungs was smacked out of you, and the ground was definitely going to leave a bruise.

“FOCUS!” he shouts to you, sending another punch to the villain’s face to knock her off balance. That luckily snaps you out of your reverie as you stand back onto your feet, swinging up to help him out.

You use your webbing to pull the tentacles off of the wall, meanwhile, Miguel acts as a distraction so she can’t focus on the fact that she’s being brought down to the ground where a trap lay for her to land in.

Bit by bit more tentacles become loose, and with one last hit from Miguel she falls to the floor with a scream, the force field raising around her immediately.

“You won’t get away with this!” she says angrily, but you only smirk, swinging down to her level.

“Doesn’t seem like there’s much you can do in this position, can you? Don’t worry, we won’t keep you for long. You’ll be back in your universe in no time~” you say, opening up a portal straight into the holding room for the other anomalies and pushing her in.

“Bye!” you say simply before the portal closes, taking her with it.

Then, the building is quiet, and you wince as you feel Miguel’s imposing aura behind you. Grasping your shoulder, he whirls you around as he looks at you exasperatedly.

"Why the hell weren’t you paying attention?" he asks you, arms moving animatedly as they usually do.

“In my defence…you didn’t notice her coming either,” you say.

“That’s not an excuse! You have your Spidey-sense, you have an instinct that tells you when you’re in danger,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And that fall, what was that? You saw me coming, why are you so distracted today?” he says with a sigh.

“Well, you’re a very distracting man,” you mumble, and his eyes widen slightly under his mask before it dissipates, leaving only his handsome face behind. You pull off your mask in turn, only staring into his eyes.

He stares back before sighing.

“Are you hurt?” he says, his eyes running over your body scanning for any injuries.

“I’ve taken worse hits than that, you know,” you say in turn, your face heating up slightly.

“An injury is an injury regardless of how bad it is,” he says, walking around you to make sure nothing is out of place.

“Jeez, you should take your own advice Mr. ‘I don’t need to go to the infirmary ever’” you huff.

“That’s different,” he retorts.

“It’s really not.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not gonna argue with you right now,” he rolls his eyes.

“Oh c’mon, you know that’s your favourite pastime,” you smirk.

“It’s not.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, it is.”

“I only tell the truth, it’s not.”

“You say that, but here you are arguing with me again,” you grin, and he groans.

“Regardless, you did good today,” he says after a moment.

“I always do good, what do you mean,” and he looks at you incredulously.

“Can you just allow me to compliment you?”

You just shrug.

“Ehhhh, I struggle to accept compliments because deep down I’m incredibly insecure and can’t make myself believe that I can do well, let alone have other people think that so…yeah!”

“…we’ll talk about this later,” he says, patting your shoulder (the tiniest bit awkwardly, which made you almost laugh considering how long you two have known each other).

“So, since you think I ‘did good’ today, what’s my reward?” you ask expectantly, the corner of your mouth quirked up. He hums for a moment before slinging his webs onto the ceiling, swinging himself up so that he hung upside-down.

“C’mere,” he says, and you look at him confused.

“What on Earth are you doing?” you say.

“Can you just listen to me for once and come here?” he says exasperatedly, so you relent and walk so you’re about a foot away from him.

“Closer,” he says, and you step closer hesitantly, the proximity making you nervous. He only huffs, reaching out to grasp onto your arm so you’re standing face to face.

The hand on your arm reaches up, softly placing itself on your cheek as you let out a little gasp. His eyes bore into yours, and you get lost in the swirling crimson and gold.

“Is this alright?” he says softly, his breath fanning across your face. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the warmth of his hand pressed into your cheek gently. You can’t do anything but nod.

His lips press into yours, slightly chapped but soft as he kissed you softly.

You had never felt anything so right.

“What was that for?” you whisper as he pulls away after a few seconds that felt like an eternity condensed into a single moment.

He snorts softly before swinging back onto his feet, pulling you into his chest with a hug.

“I know you have feelings for me,” he says, and your body tenses for a moment at the blatant comment.

“I-” you start, but he interjects calmly.

“Hasn’t it been obvious that I have feelings for you too?” he asks as he pulls away, cupping your cheeks in both his hands.

“I, I thought it was just because I was your best friend,” you say as all those little moments you’ve had over the years play through your head. It makes him laugh softly, oh how you loved that laugh.

“You’re painfully oblivious sometimes, you know,” he says, but the fondness is evident in his voice.

“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, a tad bit flustered but you already missed the feeling of his lips on yours.

He smiles down at you before kissing you tenderly, fingers tangling through your hair as your hand rests on his chest, feeling his racing heart.

Finally, you felt complete.

~

~

“I didn’t know you were so soft,” you giggle as you return back to HQ.

“I am not soft,” he says almost offendedly, but the corner of his lip is quirked up the tiniest bit. “Though if I was, it would only be for you.”

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes

A/N: Two updates in one day? That's wild, haha. Am I writing this because I saw this prompt and I myself am in love with my best friend? Absolutely, but hey! Coping mechanisms, am I right :)

[genericpuff]

Okay, what the FUCK is Inklore?

My ULO pals and I have been deliberating on this one since it was announced. "Inklore", the brand new imprint from Random House Worlds - which is, in and of itself, an imprint of Penguin Random House - and Rachel Smythe Presents, an in-house program of sorts that's dedicated to graphic novels, specifically those that "tell updated, romantic versions of classic stories and mythologies, and caters to readers looking for bingeable, relationship-driven stories with a distinct visual voice."

Basically it's exactly how it sounds - they're creating an imprint for works like Lore Olympus, and using Rachel as the leading lady.

But let's dig a little deeper. Because the more I searched on Inklore, Rachel Smythe Presents, and Random House Worlds, the more it started to paint a picture of what's really going on here.

INKLORE

I talked about this in my recent analysis of LO's pacing problems, but Inklore launching in Spring 2024 conveniently lines up with what would seem like a reasonable end point for LO. Rachel's always lined up LO's episodes with real life dates and holidays - even when it's been at her comic's own expense - and while we've kept our minds open to the possibility that it could end later than Spring, there's no denying at this point that LO itself is dragging itself out, which gives me stronger reason to believe it's just trying to make it to March, specifically March 20th, which is the first day of Spring in the northern hemisphere. Because of this, our best predictions right now is that LO's series finale will either release on FP or unlock for free readers on either the 16th or 23rd of March (if it unlocks for free on either of those dates, that means we can expect the series to end behind the FP paywall on either April 6th or 13th, assuming they're aren't any more hiatuses, but at this point I doubt there will be.)

Moving on, let's look at the actual Inklore site-

Already you can get the vibe of what kind of work they're looking for through their imprint. This is for people like Rachel. Now, I'm definitely not going to rag on anyone's tastes, I myself am a weeb of epic proportions, but considering you're about to see what's really the highlight of this site, you'll get what I mean when I say this isn't for people like Rachel, this is for people like Rachel. Specifically Rachel.

RACHEL SMYTHE PRESENTS

Inklore seems to be just an imprint specifically for Rachel Smythe Presents, with a couple extra series tacked on to give off the impression of it being more credible than it is. It means the whole site can be dedicated to it, rather than having it shoved in haphazardly alongside Penguin Random House's other works. You'll see what I mean in a second, but let's magnify those questions real quick, shall we?

As soon as I saw the "we are not accepting unsolicited pitches for Rachel Smythe Presents", it dawned on me that Rachel's own fans don't know how imprints work. Why do I say that? Look no further than the comment sections on her announcement posts for RSP (which I'm abbreviating, but I assure you, it stands for "Rachel Sex Party"- /j)

Of course, there are plenty of "congratulations" comments and "please do xyz myth", in which case, please, don't let her touch more myths I beg you-

But then there are also the odd comments of people asking how to get involved themselves. People who are just, by all accounts, regular people on the Internet.

But wait, how do you get involved? Thankfully there's a handy URL in that FAQ telling us how.

And holy shit, it's hilarious.

Guys, it's so easy to get into Rachel Smythe Presents! All you have to do is finish a manuscript, find an agent who's willing to work with a new unpublished author (and hope that they're not a scammer), get your manuscript prepared for publishing and submitted to editors, and then hopefully land a book deal! Wasn't that so easy?? Thanks for demystifying the process, Penguin Random House!

Listen, okay, there's something to be said about how difficult it is to navigate the publishing world. While some of those difficulties are for good reason - to ensure that not just any piece of crap thrown on paper can get published - many more are rooted in privilege, racial gatekeeping, and sexism. It is still an industry being run by a lot of nasty old fucks who take full advantage of people desperate enough to get their book published.

All that aside, it's kind of hilarious - in a sad kind of way - to see fans of this comic assume that this project and its opportunities were ever made for them. It wasn't. It wasn't made for the Canvas creators, it wasn't made for the Wattpad writers, it wasn't made for the people who work in the medium that Rachel started out in to get where she is today. It was made for the people who are already 3 of the 4 steps into Penguin Random House's "helpful" guide on publishing. It was made for the Cait Corrains and the wannabe Rick Riordans.

At best, Inklore is simply a home that's been manufactured for Lore Olympus after it's done on Webtoons. It may remain on the WT platform forever - or maybe not - but Inklore gives it a way to be seen and acknowledged outside of its niche. Because, despite Webtoons attempting to make Lore Olympus a global phenomenon, it really hasn't sold well in other countries, especially those where it was translated which people from those countries have stated it's not translated well at all.

It goes to show that much of LO's claim to fame was manufactured within North America by Webtoons itself, and Inklore is just another one of those manufactured attempts.

Still don't believe me? Still think I'm wearing too much tinfoil?

There are still only two series that Inklore has to show for itself - and remember, it launches in two months - and of course the ones leading that charge are every single volume of LO, even the ones that aren't "new and upcoming" anymore.

And then there's their Instagram, which is just more of the same-

(wonder if they ever found a Marketing Manager? Not exactly the role you want to be left empty leading up to a launch, oop-)

But wait, doesn't that site layout look a little... off? Almost cheap, maybe? Am I being too harsh-

Oop, nope, it's the exact same template used for the LoreOlympusBooks.com website.

Wait a minute, what about the imprint that Inklore is attached to? Random House Worlds?

RANDOM HOUSE WORLDS

... Uhhuh. I'm not entirely convinced that Lore Olympus is in any way on the same level as fucking Star Wars but to the average onlooker, this would make Lore Olympus seem pretty big and important simply on the virtue of it sitting smack dab in the middle of a grid of massive franchises.

So I'll bite, where do these buttons go? They all lead to external sites selling books and merchandise (except for the Marvel Studios one, which hilariously doesn't have a URL attached, so that button goes nowhere LMAO)

... Oh. It's that layout again.

Not all of them have the same layout, mind you, but it seems to be the default layout for sites they just haven't buffed up yet. It would explain why the Star Wars and D&D sites are a lot more robust in their designs, while others just link back to Penguin Random House:

Now the Minecraft one does look better at first glance, but it's still just the same template as the LO site, with a slightly different layout, but working off the same design philosophy, like they just spent a few extra hours dragging things around and spiffying them up in a site editor.

So it seems a lot of the default sites are working off the same CSS stylesheets, which doesn't exactly look good for LO and Inklore's online identity.

But hey, it's gotta mean something that LO is sitting alongside such franchises as Star Wars, Marvel, Magic the Gathering, and Minecraft, right? These are some of the biggest franchises on the planet, and while LO does make a lot of money, it's still nowhere near the billions that these franchises generate every single year.

And that's what I would be saying, if I hadn't noticed the specific products that Random House Worlds was selling - all easily churned out merch, from cookbooks to spin-off titles, which aren't exactly the main draw for these franchises, simply stocking stuffers or otherwise fun gimmicks to try out.

(I actually own the Dungeons and Dragons tarot deck. It's shit. They don't actually tell you the suit of the cards, JUST the numbers, so you have to flip through the book and match up the pictures on the cards with the pictures in the book just to figure out if it's Cups, Pentacles, Wands, or Swords, which I'm sure you can figure out, if you're a tarot reader, is very inconvenient and doesn't make for a good card reading experience)

Point is, Random House Worlds seems to mostly be an imprint dedicated solely to the cheaper products and books they can make to pump up a franchise's merch count. Even the Critical Role site doesn't offer the campaign books, those are published by their own personal imprint Darrington Press and are offered on their main - and much better designed - site:

Instead it's selling printed versions of interviews and... mad libs.

Not made or even really endorsed by the Critical Role cast, because if they were, they'd be on the main site, where the good shit is.

Random House Worlds is, at least judging off what I've found here, the "trick the parents into buying it" imprint. It's simply there for parents to see, go "my kid watches / plays that!" and then buy a Beholder puzzle which their kid will undoubtedly start and then never finish and eventually throw out half-finished after all the pieces have been lost. It's the cheap merch money generating machine, with works written by people who were simply paid to write it, and not people actually involved in the larger franchises.

And this is the imprint that Inklore and Rachel Smythe Presents is going to be an extension of.

At best, Inklore will likely just be a home for Rachel's work post-Webtoons, with maybe the odd success outside of it. At worst, it comes across as nothing more than an ego project, another artificial attempt to place Rachel and LO on the same playing field as Marvel, Minecraft, Star Wars, and Dungeons & Dragons through the only means that they can - an imprint that specializes in off-brand books, which they're truly counting on people just seeing the logos and going "wow those are big franchises!" and associating LO with that status simply by affiliation - without it having anywhere near the actual level of prestige, household influence, or brand recognition.

Its readership is dying out, its stats dropping, and worst of all, the vast majority of people - of which its a very small amount - who have heard about LO without being a Webtoons user themselves have heard how infamous it is in its bad writing and poor art direction.

It has nowhere to go but down, and if you were hoping to be a part of Rachel Smythe Presents, then all I can suggest to you is to go through the very simple process of finishing your manuscript, finding an agent, finding an editor, and then (hopefully) landing a book deal with the 'esteemed' Inklore.

Good luck! ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ

[invisiblequeen]

Anyway, here are my two submissions for the @spacecadet-sims BC that i definitely have not had ready for days prior:

For Atticus: Viana Walton:

Name: Viana Walton Age: Young Adult Gender: Woman Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Vet Likes: Blue, White, Black, Orange, Comedy, Guitar, Horse Riding, Painting, Photography, Polished Fashion, Basics Fashion, Outdoorsy Fashion Dislikes: Red, Gray, Easy Listening Music, DJ Booth, Music, Fishing, Programming, Snowboarding, Media Production, Rocker Fashion, Boho Fashion Favorites: World Music, Spooky Music, Pop Music, Latin Music, spicy foods and most importantly, graham crackers. Traits: Early bird, Hyper, Foodie Aspiration: Dr. Doolittle Family/Important Friends/Pets?: Parents in Chestnut Ridge, Twin sister named Dyana(dee-anh-nah) in San Myshuno. Distant cousin in a sim named Eldon Ervin who visits sometimes. Short Bio: Simply put, Viana Walton is one with the animals. Happily stationed in Brindleton Bay with the top spot in the vet clinic, she spends her time walking with the stray cats and dogs around town, decorating and redecorating her home, and sometimes visiting her family in chestnut ridge to free-ride their horses. She hadn't really thought about a spouse for the future, since most of the guys her friend Supriya Delgato (townie) sets her up with are turned off by how animated she gets about her passions. But Dyana, her twin, got wind of this BC and encouraged her to enter. She's dubious, but Viana is willing to give it a shot. And if it doesn't work out, well, at least she has her occasional sneaky link Catarina Linx. 👀 Misc. Info: She loves denim. LOVES denim. Her mom is tomorangi and her dad is Chestnut-Ridgian, so she visits both places often. She thinks the lighthouse is haunted. And--sit down for this--Mayor Whiskers is her least favorite cat in the area.

For Imogen: Eldon Ervin

Name: Eldon Ervin Age: Young Adult Gender: Man Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Heterosexual Occupation: Composer Likes: Brown, Orange, Black, White, PIano, Pipe Organ, Singing, Writing, Preppy Fashion, Polished Fashion Dislikes: Island Music, METAL MUSIC, Pop Music, Yellow, Blue, Harp, Guitar, Cooking, Hipster Fashion, Rocker Fashion Favorites (music, food, etc): Classical Music, Singer-Songwriter Music, Spooky Music, Jazz Music, soup, soup, and more soup. Traits: Lyricist, Outgoing, Unappeasable Aspiration: Musical Genius Family/Important Friends/Pets?: Most of his family is in Glimmerbrook, he's friends with all the townie DJ's in Windenburg, and got on Judith Ward's good side ever since he composed music for her post-peak drama film a few years ago. No siblings, no pets, and if he wants to be around cute animals, he'll visit his distant cousin Viana in Brindleton Bay. Short Bio: You've heard of Mozart and Beethoven, but have you heard of Eldon Ervin? Well, if you watched Judith Ward's last big film, you'd know he was the driving force behind the movie's composition and theme song that catapulted him into stardom. An overachieving genius in every sense of the word, Eldon is looking to release the kind of legendary pieces his idols have in the past. He's noticed that the most heart-wrenching sonatas or concertos were inspired by love. So maybe this BC will bring him the muse he needs. Misc. Info: He likes sitting on benches near ponds and write poems in the rain. His parents are both spellcaster and somehow he came out with no magic at all. We don't talk about that. His favorite animal is a DUCK.

WHAT DO WE THINK?

[perdvivly]

Hi, I'm Viv. You may know me from such blogs as 'Ontologicalidiot' or 'Perdviv' or 'Perdecum'. But I'm not at any of those places anymore, I'm here now, and I'm sad.

I have a degree in Philosophy and a Masters in Logic and Philosophy of Mathematics and about half another Masters in Computer Science. My academic interests run along these lines.

My interests in philosophy tend to skew analytic but not exclusively so. I'm interested in logic, both classical and non-classical but particularly higher-ordered logic and paraconsistent logic. I'm also interested in the foundations of mathematics. One thing I haven't studied much but am currently meaning to get around to are extant neo-logicist programs. I typically assume logicism epistemologically dead at t=1931, but this is clearly not the case and I'd like to know what's going on there.

I'm interested in consciousness. Both hard and soft problems.

I studied axiomatic set theory at university but I never learned forcing, which I would like to do at some point in my life. I would also like to study category theory. I also want to learn more about homology and cohomology. And I'd like a working (read: quantitative) understanding of general relativity too.

As for less-academic interests:

I enjoy sports-ball! I'm the one who does that. I enjoy and am relatively good at athletics. In particular I really like swimming, climbing (boudlering), Brazillian jiujistu, and wrestling.

I am a board games lesbian (this is stolen valour, i'm not a lesbian, i'm very bisexual (but you understand that Boardgames-Lesbian is the type of guy I am)). I really like: Dominion, Catan, Articulate (poetry for neanderthals), Betrayal at House on the Hill, Codenames, Nomic, and Chess. I will very happily play anyone at chess whenever works for them! Always looking for more chess friends.

I really enjoy the arts. I especially enjoy and actively want to get better at: drawing, music, and poetry. In particular, I'm trying to work on portraiture and figure drawing--I'd like to one day get into oil painting but I am very intimidated by the amount of work I need to put in before this becomes viable for me. I used to play the drums when I was younger, I'd like to pick that up again. Percussion holds a place in my heart but I'm also compelled by piano and violin. I like music theory but Schoenberg took it too far (This is a goof (I'm also very goofic)).

I enjoy and may sometimes post about sex. I think talking about fetish and kink in an open dialogue is helpful for me to feel less isolated with respect to some of my desires. Though, better than talking is action.

I try to be as open as feels safe and comfortable, but I am also a deeply neurologically pathological person. I try my best to extend grace to others and this feels poignant to me because I know how often I need it too.

Also! At the start of 2023 I decided that I would start reading from scratch again. I made a new goodreads account and I told myself that I wouldn't add any books I'd read before 2023. I've found this pretty easy to keep to, though it's also a marvel how much I was able to read before. My time feels limited in ways I don't understand and that don't leave much room for extensive reading these days. Anyway, it's here if you want to check it out and add me as a friend :)

[firespirited]

Today I practiced shell stitch, had to redo the swatch several times as the tutorial video didn't specify to always start/end a row with either a single crochet or 3 double crochets. I like the shape much more than the 3 of a granny stitch, it somehow looks more polished. Video tutorials are really helpful but I'm just not yet at a point where the stitches are neat and easy to count and 'spaces' aren't really obvious. Being limited to 45 minute sessions means that it's over right as I'm starting to get into the groove. You know when it starts to seem intuitive?

I've had crochet stitching appear in my dreams so at least you know some of it is getting written to the hard drive. 😁

Fixed a cute red top (beads had been ripped off around the v-neck and I had just the right amount of ric-rac in silver) and I'm wearing that now. Accepting that a wardrobe change is inevitable would be easier if mail order clothes shopping wasn't full of really ugly tops. The moment you're XL in France, which for me was at 16 when I was just curvy not overweight, you're cut off from anything nice. You can get the brown-grey 'taupe' , the leopard print or shapeless sack of business carpet print. 🙃 I really want basics: 95% cotton, some stretch, long torso, v-necks in black white and blue. Seriously considering ebay UK and its import fees for some M&S classics. Maybe even the infamous Shein.

Finally got my bloods done! There was a backlog over the holidays. Must have been a mug full. We're looking for another intestinal opportunist and checking on the anemia and diabetes. The anti-fungal in december did something, I was able to actually taste christmas dinner and that was amazing. The cotton mouth isn't pain but it's been months of eating what feels like cardboard in varying textures. 😑

I've been busy sorting files: dumping stuff in folders instead of naming it properly came back to bite me. I used to have multiple freeware programs for renaming & making thumbnails and they got lost in the windows reinstall or just don't work any more. *Rename Master* is a freeware gem (all sorts of insert, replace and numbering options) . I really need to find a right click to autogenerate thumbnails program again.

Also been sorting out the to-do lists, gradually working down my massive 'keep' notes and bookmarks to create a document of things I'd like to watch, tagged all the 'reading' and 'listening' notes.

I'm putting together just pay postage bundles. $8 for A5 letter size, $30 for a big shoe box kilogram. Less in the EU. Stuff's on the website: the vintage heads, reroots that need paint, a bunch of incomplete imperfect monsters. Just let me know. I can also include fur wigs, glittery stretch fabrics and various small findings.

The plan is to wait for test results and go from there, continue slowly tidying and destashing, try size 46 tops for size, with doll projects to look forward to. Try to stay sane. 😂😘

[sarelcon]

There isn’t a perfect crafting material and one isn’t strictly “better” than the other: a blog post styled rant on why people need to stop asking which material is the best and why 3D printing pieces for cosplay is not ‘cheating’ or easier than any other method

I have seen waaaaay too many people lately (especially on the clock app) claiming that 3D printing is cheating or somehow easier than the low tech, older methods like foam work and thermoplastic crafting. This absolutely drives me crazy.

I am a fabrication girlie at heart. I am a foam gremlin to the core but started out with Worbla (a delightful classic). I have recently picked up sculpting/mold making/resin casting. I am teaching myself how to 3D model. I have put hundreds of hours into finishing the dozens of 3D printed props and bits & baubles I have for various cosplays. I have worked with air drying clays, apoxie sculpt, paper mache, and chainmail. I work both in the digital and physical spaces for patterning. I have won several major craftsmanship awards with my fabrication skills. With all that as my credentials, let me say that 3D printing is not any easier, faster, or somehow better than all the other things I mentioned.

There is no such thing as a perfect crafting material. Anyone that tells you that is trying to sell you something. Every material and it’s corresponding techniques have pro and cons- the things that it excels at the and the things that it doesn’t work so well for. Wether it is a high-tech and automated process or a low-tech process done mostly by hand, every material can be utilized poorly or expertly. What makes the difference in the quality of the finished product or what wins awards in craftsmanship contests is how the material/technique was executed. A low budget cosplay can beat one that used tools that cost upwards of $1,000. It’s all about HOW the materials and tools were used.

For every 3D printed piece, there are lots of steps. You don’t just press a button and magically have a beautifully finished sword or geometric little Genshin Impact accessory piece. No, not all.

It has to be modeled first, then run through a slicer program to be printed. There’s lot of behind the scenes calibration that has to be done on the printer and adjustments of the model to get it in the optimal position to minimize seams and support material. There’s adjusting settings on the printer, like infill, to balance strength of the finished print vs amount of filament used (and therefore the final weight of the print). After printing, you have to remove support material and clean up the raw print. Next up is the eternal limbo of filling and sanding (god, it takes forever). Depending on your seams, you may be stuck in Bondo hell for a while too. Finally there’s painting, which can range from a quick blast of spray paint but could turn into the exceedingly complicated process I like to do that ends up using about six different paints. Then there’s the clear coat to protect the finished product.

A 3D printed prop does not magically appear from the ether. Much like any other material, there is a long list of steps and so much work put into a single piece. By the nature of how 3D printing works, pieces will come out very exact and crisp with a precision that human hands can’t quite achieve. But that comes at the price of expensive equipment, a steep learning curve for 3D modeling, and countless hours invested into the entire process from beginning to end. Even with purchasing models as I often do, it’s still not easy, cheap, or fast to make 3D printed pieces for cosplay.

Foam can win over 3D printing and sewing can beat out any fabrication build. It’s not a matter of WHAT was used. It’s a matter of HOW WELL it was used. Craftsmanship is not determined necessarily by the material but by the skill of the person using it. 3D printing is just a different set of skills than what is needed for Worbla or EVA foam.

[college-girl199328]

A Vancouver woman charged with mischief after disruption at the Juno Awards is unapologetic about her public protest that garnered headlines. Hatherly, who goes by the name Ever, was arrested after interrupting Avril Lavigne's speech during the high-profile event; the 37-year-old was topless, wearing pasties, and had slogans for environmental causes such as "Stop logging old growth now" and "Save the green belt" scrawled on her body.

CBC News spoke with Hatherly on Wednesday outside the Edmonton courthouse after her bail hearing. Her next court appearance is April 5, in which she will begin her campaign. She is part of will walk to the nation's capital in April to demand a citizens' assembly for climate action.

Hatherly, who had a ticket for the Junos, said she chose the awards show as a platform simply because of the international attention it would garner for her. She wanted to start with the loudest scream, adding that she would disrupt Lavigne "for the headline."

"I low-key, in my heart of hearts, hoped that she would be punk rock, girl power, give me the mic or something, but I don't think it could have ended any better," she said. Lavigne used expletives to tell Hatherly to get off the stage.

"That's coming down as one of the highlights," Lavigne said Monday night of the incident. Hatherly said she chose to be topless because more people would click on a story about a topless protester than they would about an environmental activist.

"We created an international buzz, and even if people aren't asking the right questions now, they will be," she said. "Everybody just saw a topless protester, but they're looking now. It's not an issue that people want to tackle here and everywhere else."

Questions have been raised about security at the awards show. Hatherly appeared to get on stage and was on stage for 30 seconds before security escorted her off. "I just walked up there. It was so easy," she said.

In a statement, the Canadian Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences, which runs the Junos, said it takes "every step to avoid interruptions to our program. But there are always risks with live events and broadcasts.

CBC News asked whether there would be an investigation into how the protester got on stage and whether any changes would be made to security. Organizers, in response, said they were not commenting further.

This is not the first time environmental activists have drawn attention to their cause in novel ways. Last October, climate protesters threw a can of soup at Vincent van Gogh's Sunflowers painting in London's National Gallery; the artwork was behind glass.

CBC News asked Hatherly whether she thought her protest might have turned people off her cause. "We need to do something dramatic to grab people's attention." And I know that I have a vast amount of privilege, and it is my absolute privilege to stand up and fight for something I believe in.

Hatherly said planning for the protest started roughly one week ago. She then took a 10-hour bus ride from Vancouver to meet up with two others from On To Ottawa in B.C. Interior before they drove to Edmonton.

Hatherly said while she has participated in other acts of civil disobedience before, this is the group's first act. After she was escorted off the stage, Hatherly said she had several conversations with Junos staff about public disruption.

"Everyone was like, 'Why are you streaking?' And I'm like, 'I'm streaking for a reason.' So I got to have conversations with the people there. I also got to have a meaningful relationship with most of the officers that arrested me at the two facilities I was held at.

David Tindall, a sociology professor at the University of British Columbia, said the incident at the Junos was a classic case of an activist trying to "create a spectacle" and get media attention. "I think the Juno Awards was an ideal example of an opportunity where they probably knew there would be a lot of media attention," he said.

"And I think a lot of young people who are activists right now have lost their patience in terms of a variety of things, but acting on climate change, acting on trying to protect old growth forests, acting on Indigenous claims around land and also in Ontario, there are issues around the green belt."

However, Tindall said the incident might have been more effective if it had happened at a government event or in the presence of politicians. "I don't think that necessarily disrupting musicians getting awards has the same sort of impact on putting pressure on people at the event," he said.

Probably more attention was paid to the spectacle than the message in this instance," Tindall said. Young activists feel a sense of urgency around climate change issues, so he expects more of them.

[bluedalahorse]

As someone who is currently in an MFA program learning to write for children and young adults, and who deeply adores classic literature (I majored in Classics and Les Mis is one of my forever fandoms) as much as I do modern literature, I would like to offer a few (gentle) thoughts.

First, I’ve been in a lot of writing classes over the years, and some have a little more of a commercial lean (here’s how to write something that will get published and sell) while others have a little more of a craft-focused lean (here are the techniques that make up a good story.) Most writing classes have a mixture of both commercial and craft advice. Both types of advice are useful up to a point. The modern advice cited above seems to lean primarily commercial, and commercial in the most simplified, least helpful way. Better writing teachers will give you language and tools for picking your story apart, examining it, and revising it to be better. They will insist on character arcs, but in a nuanced way. They also won’t all agree on what makes a good story. The best writing teachers will teach you that there are multiple ways to tell a good story, while still helping you to be conscious of both craft and marketing.

Second, most classic literature has the same features, like character arcs and characters with flaws, that we see in stories today. These elements of craft may be expressed differently, but they’re still there. Achilles in the Iliad absolutely undergoes a change and has an arc; he is learning to confront his own mortality, and develops empathy for others in the process. Tragic protagonists are always grappling with their hamartia. Historic authors often considered these elements of storytelling as they put stories together, whether they used the vocabulary we use or not, and whether or not they were formally trained. Even for the writers who just wrote based on what they liked, or wrote stories similar to the ones they wanted to read, there was likely an element of reflection as they asked themselves how to make their stories better and more engaging.

Third, classic literature was composed in multiple different historical periods under a range of different technological and sociopolitical conditions. Many of our earliest epic poems derive from oral tradition, and are thus written with repeated phrases and in meters that allow for easy memorization and improvisation. Some novels were serialized. Sometimes censorship affected how a story got told—I can’t find the post right now, but if I remember correctly, the Waterloo tangent happened the way it did in Les Mis as a big way of getting around the censors. In the modern day, authors may not give you an extensive description of setting or the like because you can look something up on your smartphone. It used to be that writing had to cover a lot more bases than it does now, when we have access to information and fiction in multiple mediums. (TV, movies, YouTube, and so on.) Which is a loss, yes, when we think about how books have had to adapt themselves to compete. But we’ve also gained other things. Also, studying why classic lit is written the way it is, and looking at the specific time period in which a book was written and the technology available to disseminate that writing, is to me part of the joy of reading old books.

Fourth, if you are someone who loves classic literature, there are some really great modern novels out there that have a classic novel vibe. I’m going to recommend two of them below.

A Sitting in St. James by Rita Williams-Garcia covers the goings-on at an Louisana plantation when the matriarch of the family decides to have her portrait painted. It is a scathing indictment of the system of slavery, as well as the class and gender norms of the American South prior to the Civil War. It also asks the important question of whether a person’s queerness can save them from their whiteness.

Williams-Garcia’s novel does in many ways read like a 19th century novel. It is written in brilliant third-person omniscient prose, and covers multiple generations of family history. There are very evocative descriptions of setting and character. One way in which it is not like a 19th century novel is that it does not gloss over slavery or racism. And yet even with all the descriptions of hardship there are still moments of joy.

(I would recommend the novel, but I also recommend checking out a list of triggers before reading.)

Do you want the Great Yiddish Novel, but make it queer and disabled and a fantasy novel? Sacha Lamb’s When the Angels Left the Old Country is the story of an angel and a demon who immigrate from a small shtetl to America, and how their story intersects with a young woman named Rose Cohen.

Like St. James, this novel is written in brilliant third-person omniscient prose that feels old-timey. We get lovely authorial asides and tangents. And once again, Lamb doesn’t clean up or lie about the past (there’s a particularly brutal moment in the text calling out the ableism of Ellis Island) while still making moments for their characters to be happy.

I guess what I’m saying is, the world is full of great things to read, both from the past and from the present. It’s also full of great stories to be written in the future. Find the strong, actually decent writing advice that works for the stories you want to tell. Seek out a range of stories—from all time periods and genres, even the ones you don’t initially gravitate toward. Seek out stories from books and TV and plays and movies and songs and poems and your friend’s overly talkative aunt at a barbecue. Find the things that work for you about those stories—the things that you find engaging—and then incorporate them into your own work. There’s so many ways to approach stories and it never hurts to study craft in the work of others!

Every 21st century piece of writing advice: Make us CARE about the character from page 1! Make us empathize with them! Make them interesting and different but still relatable and likable!

Every piece of classic literature: Hi. It's me. The bland everyman whose only purpose is to tell you this story. I have no actual personality. Here's the story of the time I encountered the worst people I ever met in my life. But first, ten pages of description about the place in which I met them.

[ketbra]

sorry to bring up ancient history from mid-October, but someone who codes using AI tools IS a programmer, just like someone who uses them for art is an artist. Most programmers learned to code by copying other people’s code piecemeal, maybe tweaking the parts they could figure out until it did what they wanted, and it doesn’t make any difference if they get the code from an AI instead. People cribbing from Stack Overflow are programmers, people who code with those building-block UIs are programmers, people who write basic bash scripts for the commandline are programmers, people arranging machine instructions in binary are programmers. Do you see? They’re all creating. Where would we be if we had stopped at punchcards because typing a program was too easy? However easy we make it, there will still be further goals to strive for. (Also, anyone who claims you need to know bubblesort to be a programmer is a fool and probably a poser.)

Hi anon, I'm actually glad my posts from mid-october don't get read and forgotten and i really appreciate the question because I don't think this website has enough middle ground on the topic to have a conversation that isn't just hate from both sides.

So, I get where you're coming from, there are many different types of programmers and there are many different types of artists, and it's true that not all of them know bubblesort because maybe some programmers kept on working and developing other aspects (an assembly programmer and an html developer have surely different views on the same topic)

and it's so very much true that you can find code on stack overflow, or directly ask chatgpt for a function and you can add those strings to your code. or you can use tools for building the UI all you want

but there is a difference between asking AI tools for a piece of code and knowing how it works. You can have a completely working program or app that you ask AI to code for you and you might have the idea for that app, but if you don't know how the code works then you're not the one who programmed it. And I don't mean it to minimize anyone's work, but if one reads a piece of code, (with all the context needed to understand it) and doesn't know how it works, then that person isn't a programmer.

I'm not saying different types of developers need to know everything about every language, but they do know the one they're using.

The difference between copying a piece of code into your code and getting the code completely written by someone/something else is that in the first instance you know what you're doing and you're asking for help, in the second you're commissioning a final product.

And I think this can be applied to art as well, an artist knows so many things we take for granted, the pressure, how light and shadows work, anatomy, prospective, materials, contrast, which color evokes that specific emotion and so on.

Now, is every draw painted by a real person art? (tumblr is going to hate me for this but) no, not every draw is art, there's always a subjective element in these discourse but personally I don't think everything is art, or that everything is a ode to the human condition, sometimes one draws a doodle and it's fun and doesn't hold the weight of being called art.

Is every draw painted by AI shit? (and tumblr is going to hate me for this as well but) no. sometimes AI art is wonderful and sometimes it's just fun, I use it with friends, we make silly pictures to send eachother and birthday cards. and it's fun, and pretty and we're all programmers and it's harmless.

And the thing is, that I am pro AI-art just not in the way it is now. I think the scraping of every picture on the internet to train AIs has been a little invasive and kind of unfair. I think the best way to get AI tools and human artists together is to have AI trained on every classical painting and draw at museums and in history books, and then, if there are specific modern styles a company selling AI tools wants to add to its portfolio then they should get in contact with said artists and pay them for their work and ask permission to use their art.

the way I see it, it's like if you made a funny post on the internet, and a company copies and pastes it on their own profile and makes it look like it was its pr team who thought about it. And I mean they don't get anything directly out of it, but also there's a value in the image a company has online.

I think this answer is very long already and I just want to finish it with the actual answer to the question. I don't think AI artists can call themselves that. I don't think they're artists, they're for sure creative people and they can have good, great, ideas like everyone one else but if they don't have the knowledge to create those pieces on their own then they're not artists. Designers, picture architects, prompt makers, people with great ideas but not artists.

And before you tell me yeah but you still need some tools to make art, you can't not do it "on your own", yes but there's a difference between drawing with an ipad and typing a prompt into mid-journey.

You could end up with the same exact result and people might not even recognize one is AI but it's not the same thing as being an artist.

I can design a wool hat to the detail, but that makes me a designer, not a knitter. BUT those figures can and do collaborate, it's just that in this very moment AI tools aren't making it possible to have a conversation. they stole from the world wide web and they did it for profit. and it always ends up like this, it's always a marketing tool.

[sillykoalalight]

AI's miracle in Indonesian painting: Denny Ja proves it with the legendary work

Introduction In the world of painting, technological developments have brought new miracles. One of the latest innovations that attract attention is the presence of artificial intelligence (artificial intelligence or AI) in creating painting works. In the Indonesian context, a famous artist named Denny JA has proven AI's extraordinary potential in creating legendary painting works. This article will explore AI's wonders in Indonesian painting and illustrate how Denny JA uses it to create inspiring works. AI development in painting Before we see Denny JA's contribution, it is important to understand AI's development in painting in general. AI is a field of computer science that develops a system that can mimic human intelligence. In painting, AI can be used to create images that look like human paintings, even though they are made by machines. AI works using complex algorithms to process visual data and create images that resemble traditional painting. This includes recognizing patterns, colors, and textures and applying different painting techniques. With the help of AI, artists can create beautiful and unique artwork more quickly and efficiently. Denny Ja: AI Painting and Pioneer Artists Denny Ja is a famous painting artist in Indonesia who has created extraordinary works with the help of AI. He combined traditional painting expertise with AI's ability to create works that aroused feelings and captivating the audience. One of the legendary works of Denny Ja who uses AI is "Indonesia's view." This painting illustrates the natural beauty of Indonesia with amazing details. With the help of AI, Denny Ja can create a realistic light effect and describe the beauty of nature with extraordinary precision. In addition, Denny Ja also uses AI to create works of art that describe the famous faces of Indonesia. By using photos as a reference, AI helps Denny Ja in producing details that resemble the original. These works have fascinated many people with AI's ability to create living art. Ai Miracle in Indonesian Painting The use of AI in Indonesian painting has brought extraordinary miracles. First, AI allows artists to create works of art more quickly and efficiently. The painting process that usually takes days or even months, can be resolved quickly through AI assistance. This allows artists to be more productive and produce more works in a shorter period of time. In addition, AI also allows artists to experiment more freely. With the help of AI, artists can create works of art with different techniques and styles. They can try classical painting techniques, impressions, or even abstract easily. This gives artists creative freedom to explore various styles and create unique works of art. In addition, AI also provides an opportunity for artists who do not have special expertise in painting. By using AI tools and programs that are easy to use, anyone can create beautiful artwork without having to have a formal art background. This opens the door for more people to be involved in art and develop their talents. Conclusion AI's miracle in Indonesian painting has changed the way we see and create works of art. With the help of AI, artists like Denny Ja can create beautiful and inspiring works of art with faster and more efficient. AI also provides an opportunity for anyone to be involved in painting without having to have special expertise. It opens the door for more people to express their creativity through art and produce extraordinary works. With the advancement of AI technology, we can look forward to further developments in Indonesian painting and how AI will continue to help and enrich our art experience.

Check more: Ai Miracle in Indonesian Painting: Denny JA proves it with the legendary work

[vermilionhealth]

8 Ways to Keep Your Mind Healthy and in Shape!

A lot of us are concerned with the size of our biceps or the girth of our waist.

Having a fit body is important. However, keeping your mind in shape is critical to enjoying your life at the highest level. 

Give your brain the attention it deserves!

Read more: 10 Greatest Tips to Stick to Your Diet and Lose Weight Fast!

Keep your mind healthy, active, and in shape with these strategies:

1. Exercise regularly. Roughly 30% of your brain’s volume is composed of blood vessels. It’s important to keep your blood moving! Exercise will get your blood flowing and help to control your blood sugar. High blood sugar is harmful to blood vessels. That’s why so many diabetics die of heart disease or stroke at a relatively young age.

2. Read each day. Reading requires a lot of your brain. It’s not easy to transform symbols into words and meaning. Spend some time each day with a book that makes you think. You might learn something useful, too.

Avoid reading the same types of books on a regular basis. Read well-written articles. Read the classics. Try a new science fiction novel. How about a book on theoretical physics? Reading the sports page every day doesn’t count. The same goes for romance novels by your favorite author. Mix it up.

3. Eat well. A healthy diet will help preserve your brain function. Do a little research on the best diet for longevity and attempt to make a few changes to your eating habits. A few, small changes each month will go a long way toward keeping your brain healthy.

4. Meditate. Meditation is powerful for several reasons. You’ll learn to focus like a Tibetan monk. You’ll also learn how to relax. Both are wonderful for your brain. Meditation is hard work. It’s like a decathlon for your mind.

Find a good teacher in your area and meditate in a group. You’ll make some new friends, too.

5. Challenge yourself. Learn something new. Learning to paint, speak a new language, or dance are a few great examples. Learning something new forces your brain to create new neural pathways. Your brain’s ability to change is referred to as its “elasticity.”

This can be very challenging at first. If you’ve been living the same day repeatedly for several years, learning something new is similar to going jogging for the first time. It’s painful, and you don’t get too far. Be patient and give your brain a chance to wake up.

6. Do something that requires a lot of brainpower. It might be solving cryptograms or writing a computer program. Take a multivariate calculus class. Study chess. Push your brain to the maximum.

7. Remember the past. As we grow older, it’s more challenging to remember facts from the past. When you can’t remember something, avoid giving up. Take all the time you need to remember. You might finally remember the name of your high-school English teacher while you’re mowing the grass. Keep at it.

8. Get out and socialize. Spending too much time alone has been shown to increase the likelihood of developing dementia. Have an active social life and spend more time with others. You’ll enjoy your life more, too.

There are many benefits to keeping your mind in tip-top condition. You’ll enjoy better mental health and preserve your mental faculties longer. Keeping your mind healthy requires attention. Challenge yourself to learn new information and skills. Your brain is highly elastic. Give it a chance to use that ability.

Combat mental stress and physical fatigue with a healthy does of our Health and Vitality Jelly, which boast a dose of 900mg of the 6 year old red ginseng extract per serve! This will bulletproof both your body and mind be it at the workplace, gym or in the classroom. Click here to read the reviews and check out the Health and Vitality Jelly on offer today!

Want to improve Eyesight naturally? Then TAKE ACTION NOW and be prepared to surprise yourself and everybody else, check out this health jelly for eyes health! Have you tried education, doctors and everything else but nothing has worked? Feel that your life for years now has been turned upside down by poor eyesight? Now is the time to take action. This healthy jelly can help to slow down macular degeneration, cataract formation and helps to relief dry and tired eyes.

[kyberphilosopher]

Androphobia

Requested? No Word Count: 7014

An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.

Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.

  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man. 

This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off. 

There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men. 

This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.

 * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.

Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot. 

Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried. 

(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”

“Shut the hell up.”)

The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one. 

You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point. 

And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day. 

And then...

As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.

So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man. 

[Sort of.]

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”

“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”

He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn. 

“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”

Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering. 

In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard. 

“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”

“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above. 

He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you. 

You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible. 

“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”

Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman. 

But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath. 

It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do. 

You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks. 

The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?” 

You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”

Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.

“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”

Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”

“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”

Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something. 

“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that. 

“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”

“But the bias is the whole point.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’. 

“You talked to Connor about this?”

“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”

Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”

You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch. 

“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”

“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans. 

And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even. 

But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...

You snap your drawer shut. 

What’s wrong with you today? 

You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again. 

“Doctor L/N?”

You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person. 

And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark. 

“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”

“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair. 

“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins. 

Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close. 

“When?” you question. 

“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”

Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement. 

“I know that this must be difficult for you-”

“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”

The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”

And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.

“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”

“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”

“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.

“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”

There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine. 

And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself. 

And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half. 

“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”

Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”

Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones. 

Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response. 

“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”

You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”

“It’s just-”

“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings. 

As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused. 

Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike. 

A man, as usual. 

Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory. 

On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will. 

You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time. 

“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand. 

“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually. 

“The kid?”

“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment. 

Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change. 

“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”

You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all. 

“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot. 

“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”

Yep. Thanks, Hank. 

The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again. 

Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all. 

“You coming?”

“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”

“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”

“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”

“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately. 

Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth. 

“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”

“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”

“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something. 

“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”

Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last. 

“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed. 

Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away. 

Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him. 

You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around. 

“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly. 

“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly. 

“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some.”

And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes. 

“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time. 

“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him. 

“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl. 

“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally. 

“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”

“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”

“Well... how would you like to address me?”

Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it. 

“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding. 

He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”

“What would you prefer?”

His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”

This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject. 

“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food. 

Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”

“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat. 

Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”

“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”

Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.

“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”

“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”

Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ‘would you consider us friends?’ question. 

“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”

You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond. 

The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought. 

It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible. 

“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.

“Yes, thank you.”

You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.

Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.

“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.

“Hello,” Connor chirps back.

You just shoot Hank a glare.

“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.

“It was fine,” you tell him.

“Fine?”

“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump. 

You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one. 

Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense. 

Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend. 

Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe. 

The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt. 

“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded. 

“Doctor L/N?”

No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help. 

“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder. 

You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes. 

“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips. 

“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly. 

“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it. 

“You have... drool on your lips.”

You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”

“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building. 

“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

That night, it rains. 

Thunder echoes, with  ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands. 

You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes. 

A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning. 

You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it. 

You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual. 

Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.

Come on, Hank, you think.  Please protect me. Please do this for me. 

And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android. 

A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are. 

Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you. 

“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now. 

“Can I come in?”

Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in. 

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good. 

“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor. 

That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?

Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself. 

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”

Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself. 

“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”

Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”

“I just- I can’t-”

You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes. 

“Can’t sleep.”

When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea. 

He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators. 

“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him. 

He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy. 

“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”

Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”

“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does. 

You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying. 

“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead. 

“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”

A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second. 

Then it goes quiet.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”

You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.

Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”

Connor’s led goes yellow.

“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”

Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.

It sounds like he really cares.

You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”

The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.

  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.

[rad-roche]

today was my birthday!! ( ᐛ )و the ceaseless march of time never stops, but that’s not what i’m here to talk about, i got gifted a copy of realistic paint studio by my family! and i thought i’d share my thoughts here

all the fun of oil painting without the carcinogenic terrors of cadmium yellow!

so i’m coming at this from somebody who

primarily uses, and will continue to use, clip studio paint

has never actually used oil paints in any significant way

absolutely TANKED high school art classes back in the day. i mean bombed. i mean nosedive. sub f tier. my teacher pulled me aside and said i should give up on art school to save the place for ‘somebody who actually has talent, you will never be good’ tier. i kept at it anyway but all that to say that there’s a classical, ‘right’ way to do these sorts of things and i’m actually not sure what that is because i’m self-taught, so if you’re in the same boat this overview might be of use to you

right out the gate this thing costs £30, if you want the ‘vip’ set (which is only £5 more than the ‘base’ set and comes with extra tools so i’d just go for it). upfront i will say, clip studio paint often goes on sale for £25 and has a wealth of tools available to it. if you have a choice, without a doubt, pick up csp. the free asset store alone is unbelievable. this thing is robust but only in certain aspects, think of it more as a very, very advanced toy

realistic paint studio has a fun feature going for it, tutorials! you know those old bob ross paintalongs? almost every tool has a reference picture and a guide that teaches you how to use it, especially for the more difficult ones like watercolours

a couple i did

the pros:

the engine that handles paint and mixing is unbelievable. it is absolutely incredible. i’ve used a lot of art programs in my time (GIMP, photoshop, krita, csp, and whatever weird little novelties i’ve found floating around like alchemy, etc) and rps feels buttery smooth. unmatched

every brush you can use comes with a demonstration of how you can use it and for what purpose

far closer to traditional mediums as far as colour and general ‘feel’ goes so if you’re looking to make the jump from traditional to drawing tablet this is a great middle ground while you get used to it

supports tilt (but very usable without it, and i’m saying that as someone who doesn’t use a tilt tablet)

buttery smooth. i’m listing it again. i cannot stress this enough

the cons:

if you’re coming to this program from photoshop/csp the QoL features you are used to are gone. the transform tool is manageable but there is no mesh transform or perspective warp. no layer modes. no multiply, no overlay, no dodge, no hue sliders, no cropping, no gradient maps, no liquify. they were not kidding when they said ‘realistic’, if you make a mistake you have to rawdog it and paint over it.

the ui is not a traditional art program ui. you click toolboxes which bring up brushes, and you select from that set, then the box drifts off-screen. you’re either going to love this or hate it. you can assign certain brushes to hotkeys under the favouriting system, but that’s very limited so expect to see that little toolbox a lot

the export feature is clunky. most apps let you export from the file menu but you have to save your work, quit, retreat to the general app management area and export from there. there is a method of exporting in the file itself, but it only lets you set up these little postable scenes. it’s cute, but this isn’t intuitive. also, and this is a real nitpick, a lot of the pre-rendered scenes offered hide the very bottom of the canvas, where your signature traditionally goes

my general thoughts are that this is a cool, interesting piece of kit! it feels a little too janky to use consistently, especially if you need a quick and easy user experience for commissions or the like, but it’s the best at what it sets out to do. certainly ‘limited’, but i wouldn’t count that as a flaw, it isn’t like you can slap a multiply layer over a real charcoal drawing and call it done. i’d argue that if you want to improve, and you want to improve very quickly at that, you’re going to struggle to find a better digital medium to work in. you won’t be tempted to use shortcuts because they’ve been slapped out of your hands. you can’t liquify tool your way out of this one, me. i’m looking forward to sharing more studies and, when i think i’ve got a half-decent handle on it, lavishly painted sad old men

[maddgicalgirl]

Paracosm Resources <3

Need help bringing your paracosm to life? Try these free resources!

⚠️ Updates always pending! Suggestions always welcome! Feel free to message me any tips or questions <3 ⚠️

(Cont. below cut, or with real time updates on this google doc!)

Art Programs

FireAlpaca - 2D Art Program, Animation. Where I make most of my digital art, and paint the frames for my animations :) It is free to use, and easy to learn and use! It can make basic animations as well, such as gifs. It requires download.

Krita - 2D Art Program. Professional, free digital paint software :) I have not used it before, though I have heard good things.

GIMP - 2D Art Program, Photo Manipulation. It's free to use, but I do not like it/recommend it highly. But! If FireAlpaca and Krita don't float your stoat, try Gimp! For 2D art, but also able to emulate Photoshop to a degree ^^

Inkscape - 2D Art Program. Free to use digital illustration software. Makes 2D art :)

Of course, who can forget classics like good old MS Paint, and the new and exciting 3D MS Paint, which can both be used to create some really neat things! Classic MS Paint is available here in browser form! If you need that. I just think it's neat!

Art AI

Petalica Paint - Coloring Software. An in browser, watercolor manga style coloring software, which can (almost) effortlessly color in any of your line art pieces! I've played around with it for my Thorn illustration style piece, and enjoyed it! It is free to use, and can take user input to make the colorations more precise.

ArtBreeder - 3D Realism Software. Using Artbreeder, you can create lifelike images of your paras, planets, or potentially even fursona, using the intricate AI they let you work with for free! A premium version exists, but most functions are fully usable without - though I recommend donating ^^ You can randomly generate, or prune and shape what you make until its perfect! Slow to use and get the hang of, but very worth it! Artbreeder is also pioneering an intriguing animation software to go alongside their product! Browser based.

3D Software

Blender - 3D Modeling, Animation. The best (in my opinion) free 3D modelling software.

MagicaVoxel - 3D Pixel Art. Free to use! Could be interesting :)

MikuMikuDance - 3D Rigging. Anime style rigging and animation software, free to use, and certified internet artefact! Has stood the test of time, and is still used and loved today. Can support ports of many kinds of assets, including, I believe, those from Blender, and of course those that are downloaded. DA has a bunch of old MMD communities you can raid for assets!

Animaze - Face Rigger. Use 3D models and a webcam to watch your paras talk! Models can be made in Blender, downloaded online, or even from CHARAT V, CHARAT GENESIS sister app!

Character Creators

CHARAT GENESIS - 2D Character Creator. Browser based anime style character creator, with multiple crops and poses, and infinitely customizable options. It is legitimately insane. Has a 3D function called CHARAT V which can apparently convert characters made in CHARAT GENESIS into 3D models compatible with Face Rig and Animaze!

V-Katsu - 3D Character Creator. Free on steam! Anime style, intensive character creator, by the same people who made Koikatsu, and Koikatsu Party, two amazingly detailed 3D hentai makers. While V-Katsu is a SFW VTuber maker, if you're looking for NSFW anime content, you could always spend roughly $70 on the full NSFW versions. V-Katsu requires a translation mod (free online as well) which you have to install, or the ability to read Kanji <3 Works with VR tech.

V-Roid Studios - 3D Character Creator. Free on steam! Anime style, fairly in depth character creator, that allows for some degree of digital 3D hand sculpting, particularly with their amazing hair engine, to get your paras looks perfect!

And, of course, Picrew has thousands of character creators of various styles and quality uploaded by the artists who made them! Also, honestly I think we as a society should embrace making dinky chibis in Gacha Life. IDK why everyone is mean to the gacha kids, like we weren't all cringe at some point,

World Design

HomeStyler - 3D and 2D Room Designer. Make a model of an interior for a home or building, using real 1:1 furniture of IRL brands! Apparently this is free to use, though there is a premium version, and  it offers 3D and 2D models.

Map to World - 3D Planet Maker. Turn your fantasy world into a 3D model of the planet. Put maps directly on, or design the surface and textures of your world. Takes a lot of getting used to, but it is AMAZING. Free to use, and browser based!

PlanetMaker - 3D Planet Maker. Make a customized 3D planet! Free to use browser site! I have never used this, but I would love to mess around with it sometime! Allows you to add orbital rings, change textures, and more at the click of a mouse.

If on sale, I also recommend snagging a copy of the Sims, particularly 3 or 4, for character creation and world design. Maybe not the best gameplay without mods, but it's also a load of fun, and very easy to add custom content to! Minecraft also. But you just need Minecraft, in general. Beyond its ability to fairly faithfully recreate structures from your paracosms, it's just Good.

Game Creators

Maybe you wanna turn your paracosm into a cool game idk, just thought I'd put these here!

Construct 3 - 2D Game Creator. Beginner level game making :) Drag-and-drop if/then style programming.

GameSalad - Codeless 2D Game Creator. Drag and drop style/no coding, beginner friendly. Free version available!

Solpeo - 2D Game Creator. HTML5 based game engine for 2D and isometric game development. Some programming knowledge needed. Platforms supported: Chrome, Firefox, Internet Explorer 9+. Free version available.

Stencyl - Codeless 2D Game Creator. Drag and drop style building/no coding skills needed. Has editable templates!

Scratch - 2D Game Creator. Very easy to use and totally free, though relatively basic!

Unity - 3D, 2D, and VR Game Creator. Make games with 3D software. Import your own assets (Blender compatible) or download free options, or buy the rights to models. Works for 3D and 2D games. Free version available, and now works with VR tech!

Unreal Engine - 3D Game Creator. Extremely advanced 3D game developer. Highly customizable. Free to use!

Twine - Text-based Game Creator. Use a map to make a branching paths text-based story game. Free to use.

Squiffy - Text-based Game Creator. have used Squiffy and it can make some really, truly incredible things. Can take a while to pick up, and learn how to use to its full potential. Free to use! Has an online and offline library of player creations you can get inspiration from!

Quest - Text-based Game Creator. I've never used this, but it seems cool! Use it to make interactive text-based DND game adventures in browser.

Ren'Py - Visual Novel Creator. Visual novel engine, that is well acclaimed, and of course, free to use!

Companion AI

Replika - 3D Companion.

Kajiwoto - Chatbot Companion. Customizable, learning AI you can shape into a personality. Communicates via Discord like chat box.

Organization

Toyhou.se - Character Gallery. A customizable library where you can upload all of your paras and characters for the public to view! Free to use, but requires a premium member to invite you!

Refsheet - Character Gallery. I haven't used it before, but I've heard good things, and that it's a suitable alternative to toyhou.se if you can't get an invite!

Notebook.AI - Character Gallery. I haven't used it before, but I've heard good things, and that it's a suitable alternative to toyhou.se if you can't get an invite!

World Anvil - World Building Toolset. Like character galleries, but for worlds and their lore :)

Scabard - World Building Toolset. Aimed at DnD campaigners, but I reckon it'll be useful for many!

YARPS - World Building Toolset. More focused around story and lore than Scabard or World Anvil, and looks beautiful! Still in its prototype stage, however.

Pinterest - Photo Organizer. Look at, collect, and sort images into boards. Personalizes your feed based on that, and is free to use and join! However, unlike their myriad of wonderful recipes, DIY tutorials, and the likes - a lot of the images are uploaded by second parties and not credited, so be careful reuploading anything you find! Also great for finding outfits and art inspo for your paras!

Generators

Fantasy Name Generator - Name Generators. Does what it says on the tin! Generates fantasy names. Is a lovely website, run by a purportedly lovely woman.

Fantasy Map Generator - Map Generator. Randomly generates a fictional map, which you can view in 2D or 3D.

Donjon RPG Generator - Multiple Generators. Can make maps, weapons, items, etc.

Seventh Sanctum - Multiple Generators. One of my favorites from high school! Does all kinds of things - the standard items, spells, and names - but also prompts, backstories, characters, and even comedy generators!

ShindanMaker - Multiple Generators. User created and uploaded, any kind of generator you can imagine, of varying complexity. And when I say any generator? I mean ANY generator.

Audio

Audacity - Record and Edit Audio. What can't Audacity do? I love Audacity to death. At surface level, it records audio. I've used it to record voices for my paras, and get audio for animations and games I've worked on. I cannot recommend it enough. Comprehensive editing, and with some investigation, it can do so, so much more than just record simple dialogue.

FL Studios - Compose. Compose music with an unlimited free trial. Upgrades available for purchase!

Indie Game Music - Royalty Free Music Library. Free to use Indie Game Music. What it says on the box!

AudioJungle - Royalty Free Music and Audio Library. Thousands of free to use audio clips!

Online Piano - Someone could use this, for recording, or just messing around. I've seen plenty of paras who play piano, this could just be used for fun!

Online Guitar - Same reasons as above, but this site looks kinda sketchy. Use at your own risk or reward! Audio

For real, if you ever need music, sound effects, or really any MP3 clips that can be used without infringing on copyright laws, just search 'royalty free' (music/audio/insert thing here) same applies for photos! Make sure the source is reputable, however.

Tutorials

W3Schools - Coding. Learn the basics of coding, for free, online!

Miscellaneous

Debut Video Capture - Screen Recorder. Record game footage and let's plays for free! Professional and home versions. I see a few of our community members have paras who run YouTube channels, and I thought these might help! It could be a nice way to connect your parames. YouTube quality <3

Pixton - Comic Maker. Comic making website. I have no experience with this at all, but some may find it useful!

Picfont - Image Editor. Puts customizable text on an image. I used these for @paraesthetics paracosm header edits <3 It has a premium version (???) but the free version has all functions, but it crashes regularly (honestly seems timed :/) but once you get it down, it's a very quick process, and you won't have to worry about that at all.

Itch.io - Publishing. You can publish your self made games here :)

Korsakow - ??? Described as, "The Future of Storytelling" and is apparently a way to create interactive films. I *just* found out about this, but thought I should include it for someone who may know how to use and appreciate it! Free? Unknown, at the moment.

Tips and Tricks

Animation Done Easy

Our forefather's of internet animation used MS Paint, Windows Movie Maker, and Audacity. All of these, or their equivalents, are free on standard computers. I, personally, use FireAlpaca - which works just as well, if not better, than MS Paint for animation - but takes longer, and definitely lacks that retro feeling. I also use my trackpad to draw and animate everything, so its doable, but probably not totally comfortable, to animate like this for most people :)

⚠️ Updates always pending! Suggestions always welcome! Feel free to message me any tips or questions <3 ⚠️

[memeadonna]

Playing with your Heart

Hello all! This story was inspired by a conversation @fox-knives and @malicealieness had with me about Sero pining after a Y/n who was already in a relationship. Because I am a classical musician by trade, this happened! It was a lot of fun to write and talk about, and I really hope you enjoy!

Sero Hanta has been in love with you since you first met, but you’ve already got a boyfriend. When tensions rise between you and your beloved, he has to play the supportive friend and be there for you - right? So why does he want more?

Warnings: NSFW content, recreational drug use

Here are the links to the pieces of music referenced in the story:

Voi Che Sapete

Als Luise die Briefe

Merry Go Round of Life

When people thought of classical musicians, they most often thought of someone posh and straight-laced, someone snobby with way too much time on their hands who won’t listen to a piece unless the composer was long dead. Sero had learned from experience that this was very far from the truth. He was an anomaly himself – a piano prodigy who took up percussion one day because he was bored, and had been accepted on a full ride to UA – one of the top university music programs in the world. He also gave off the aura of someone laid-back and lazy without a care in the world, and he did smoke a lot of weed. Like a lot of weed. Regardless of that, he was well-liked and well respected among his peers. He had a lot of friends who played a variety of instruments and genres, (and from people in the teaching and music therapy specializations too), and nobody ever treated him as less than once they realized he was a massive dork.

Unlike most universities, UA boasted a mix of genres its students could study. There were classical musicians, jazz musicians, pop, rock, singer-songwriter… you could find just about everything here. And among all of that, Sero had found you.

You were a classical singer with stars in your eyes the first time you had met him, and as you had excitedly introduced yourself and asked him if he was the same Sero Hanta you had seen perform a few years ago, adoration hit him hard in the chest. The way you smiled at him made him want to pick you up and kiss you, and when you spoke about music – about his music – with such joy in your eyes…

He fell hard and he fell fast. You were a classical singer, so while he went to orchestra, you went to choir. You always smiled and waved at him in the halls, and helped one another with your theory homework. Every day he fell a little more in love with you, and every day the two of you got closer and closer.

The only problem was that you had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who happened to be one of Sero’s best friends, and biggest rivals. Bakugou Katsuki was one of the most talented musicians Sero had ever met. He had perfect pitch, and could make absolutely any instrument sing. He didn’t play the piano (or anything with a keyboard), but he played just about everything else. Violin, cello, trumpet, clarinet, piccolo, bass, percussion… people called him the one-man orchestra. He could play more instruments than Jirou Kiyoka, who was one of the university’s best and brightest.

Bakugou wanted desperately to be a conductor, and that’s how he had met you. The two of you were taking the same elective conducting course, and had agreed to practice together. One thing had led to another, and the two of you had been going steady for a while now. Sero loved seeing you happy, but god if it didn’t make him so fucking jealous that it was with another man. What he wouldn’t give to be the one you looked at that way.

He noticed you seemed less happy about six months into your relationship with Bakugou. You and Sero had finished your counterpoint assignments together before one of your classes, and after conducting your smile seemed a little more forced. You didn’t give Sero a hug like you normally would, and as you paused outside of the percussion studio’s door clutching an art song book you looked sort of… lost. He had been practicing his marimba when you had shown up, and he had stopped to smile over at you.

“What’s wrong, Cherubino?” he asked sweetly. He called you that because the first thing he’d ever heard you perform was Voi Che Sapete, and he couldn’t get that performance out of his head. Hearing you asking someone to tell you if the feelings that overwhelmed you were love made him want to pull you off of the stage and into his arms while he kissed you senseless.

He also liked that it meant cherub, but the real reason was that he kept slipping up and trying to call you “Cariño”, but it was easy to change that into “Cherubino”, even though they didn’t sound remotely similar.

“Well,” you blushed and began to fiddle with your hair. God, he wanted to braid it or stick his nose in it while he hugged you. Your shampoo always smelled so good, like marigolds on a sunny day. “The spring showcase is coming up.” You started. He knew about that, of course, it was one of the biggest events of the year for UA University. The crowd was typically at least three thousand strong, and only the best and brightest got to perform. “You know how someone from our conducting class was going to be given the opportunity to conduct the orchestra for one of the pieces?” oh, he knew how much you wanted to do that. As he was about to comfort you for not getting the part, you cut him off. “They chose me.”

“That’s wonderful!” before he could stop himself, he was hoisting you into his arms and spinning you around. He set you down, and noticed that you looked anything but happy. “Cherubino?”

“Katsuki’s mad at me,” you replied, fidgeting a bit. “I knew how much he wanted it. He told me I only got the position because they want him to play the violin solo, and I can’t even get mad at him because he’s right.”

Sero started to curse the blond boy out in Spanish. “How could he say something like that to you?” Sero grit his teeth. “It is not true. He’s just mad that you’re better than him.”

You looked away like you didn’t believe him, and Sero felt the overwhelming urge to sock Bakugou across the face. You forced a smile. “They also asked me to sing at the showcase. Guess what I’m going to be singing?”

“Hmmmm,” he calmed instantly at your seemingly lighter mood, rubbing his chin like he hadn’t already read the email that had gone out. “Voi che sapete?” He asked coyly.

“Certo!” you nodded as you grinned at him, and if you were his he would be kissing you stupid right now. “Do you want to get lunch? Bakugou went off to go talk with Kirishima and apparently, he doesn’t want to be seen with both a viola player and his girlfriend. One’s bad enough.”

“It would be an honour to take you to lunch, mi media naranja,” he packed up his mallets and you hummed Als Luise die Briefe. It was a short piece about a scorned woman burning her lover’s letters, and cursing the fact that her love for him would still burn within her.

“I’ve played that before,” he told you, smiling over at you. “On the piano. Maybe we could jam out sometime.”

Your eyes lit up. “Yeah, sounds like fun!” you beamed at him. “I’d love to. I’ll get us a practice room. Do you have the sheet music?”

“Oi!” you jumped as you heard Bakugou call your name from across the hall. “Let’s go get lunch like you wanted.” He looked between you and Sero, his frown never changing. “We’ve got something to celebrate, don’t we?”

You broke out into a cheery smile. “I asked Sero if he wanted to come with us,” you answered, tugging him out of the percussion room and into the hall with you. “Because I didn’t think you were still going to want to go for lunch since you ran off with Kirishima.”

Bakugou looked between you and Sero. “He’s coming on a date?” he asked skeptically.

“Ah, right,” you smiled over at Sero. “Sorry. Rain check?”

“Rain check,” he agreed. “Have fun, Cherubino.” He waved at you and you trotted back into Bakugou’s arms. He placed a kiss on your lips as the two of you interlocked your fingers. His heart twisted as you looked over at Bakugou with such adoration. Bakugou, however, wasn’t looking at you. He was staring directly at Sero.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You beat out a 4/4 pattern while Sero watched you intently, the metronome in his head ticking the time exactly. You beckoned with your free hand, painting music only you could hear with your fingers, using ten paintbrushes at once to carve out a masterpiece.

You came to the end of the piece and held the final note in your palm. You kept the energy in the room captive for a few moments longer, and when you released it, Sero smiled at you. “Perfectly on time,” he smiled. “I don’t know why you’re so nervous about it.”

You looked up at him. “Just that Katsuki keeps criticizing me whenever I try to practice and he catches me,” you smiled softly. “I get he’s trying to help but it really does the opposite. We start rehearsals with the orchestra soon, and I don’t want to look stupid in front of everyone.”

Sero frowned. “Well, you won’t look stupid at all, Cherubino,” he smiled. “You’ll look graceful and beautiful, and you’ll shape your music so exquisitely.”

You smiled softly at him. “Thanks, Sero,” you smiled.

A few days later, after your first orchestra rehearsal, you slunk back into the percussion room looking absolutely defeated. He had been practicing with his newest kalimba, playing something from a Ghibli movie. You had walked in and he had immediately swept you into a hug.

“What’s wrong, mi media naranja?” he had asked, but he had a feeling he knew the answer as you held him tightly.

You looked up and smiled bravely. “It’s okay,” you answered. “I just – Katsuki was being – he screamed at me during rehearsal and called me incompetent.”

He pulled you into another hug, eyes blazing with fire. He had turned down the ability to be a part of this piece’s performance – he had wanted to see it – but he knew he just had to be. He would swap with someone just for you, so he could be there to support you.

“What is with you always running to him?” You jumped as your boyfriend stood in the doorway. “Own up to it – you came unprepared. You were being incompetent. Grow up and accept it. Do better next time.”

“Hey,” Sero snapped. “As an orchestra player you’re supposed to listen to what she does. You’re not supposed to question the conductor.”

“Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you,” he glared at you. “Show some backbone. Are you really going to let this third-rate-”

“Katsuki,” you snapped. “Leave Sero out of this. You are in the wrong, not me. And you had better apologize.”

“There’s that fire I love,” he pulled you out of Sero’s arms and into his own. “But you’re a damned fool if you think that conducting was anything but half-assed. I’m saying this because I want it to be good, baby. I’m your concertmaster, not to mention your featured soloist, so you should listen to me.”

“No, you should listen to me. Do not yell at me during rehearsal again,” you snapped back, bristling as you brushed past him, minding the violin case as you passed.

Sero was there at every rehearsal. He watched you conduct, watched you command authority from the podium, and shape the music as Bakugou soloed on the violin. Bakugou seemed to be playing within the lines, and jabbered at you to do it his way whenever he could. After every rehearsal you looked tired and defeated, and Sero usually took you to get boba while Kirishima lectured Bakugou about proper rehearsal etiquette. This happened every day for the two weeks leading up to the concert, until the night of the dress rehearsal he snapped. You had already run through your rehearsal of Voi Che Sapete, and Sero could not have been prouder as you sauntered off the stage. God, he loved you. Even watching you from the back of the orchestra, he was blown away from your stage presence. The sweater you wore laced up at the back with a bow resting at the swell of your ass. He might have been staring at it for a little too long, but he didn’t mind having an extra mallet.

As you stepped up to the podium, he admired the way your ripped jeans hugged your figure, and then how you adjusted yourself. You raised your hands, took a breath, and began to conduct. Bakugou stood up from his chair for his solo, and started out a bar early. He kept going, glaring defiantly at you as you continued the piece. Some of the musicians caught up with Bakugou, others stayed with you. You cut the orchestra off. “Let’s start again from bar-”

“If you’re going to cue me wrong,” Bakugou hissed. “You shouldn’t even be on that podium.”

You looked back at him coldly. “I hadn’t cued you yet, Katsuki. If the concert were not tomorrow, I would have hired another soloist. If this were a professional concert, you would have been fired by now,”

“Oh really?” He snapped. “Well, if this were a professional concert, then they wouldn’t have hired a pathetic amateur like you! And you know what, fuck you! We’re done. If you can’t keep our relationship out of this, I don’t want a relationship anymore.” He packed up his violin and left. “I’ll see you all tomorrow at the concert.”

You remained composed, but Sero knew you well enough that he could read the emotions boiling within you like a book. You cleared your throat. “Alright. I would like to go over bars-”

Your composure broke as soon as you and Sero were back at his place. You had planned on spending the night at your boyfriend’s, and he was supposed to be your lift, so you were stranded on campus. At least you had your concert clothes and makeup bag, and of course your best friend here to comfort you. You sobbed into your hands, body shaking as Sero watched you ugly crying. A pizza with your favourite toppings and a bubble tea sat untouched in front of you as he rubbed your back. How were you so beautiful even wailing in anguish and huffing with sobs that shook your whole body?

You threw your arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder as he got close enough, holding him tightly as he stroked your hair. “It’s okay, mi media naranja,” he spoke softly into your hair, savouring the smell of marigolds once more. “Let it out. I’m here.”

He hummed softly to you as you slowly began to stop crying, and then you were just lying pliant in his arms, fingers playing with the beaded necklace he had worn today. “Hey,” he spoke. “Can I get you anything? Water? Doritos? Craigslist ad for a hitman?”

You laughed at that. “Edibles?” you replied.

He hesitated. You had never done any drugs with him before (or at all, as far as he knew), so seeing you blinking up at him asking for his weed he was ashamed to admit he was sort of turned on and excited that you wanted to share some with him. Mostly excited. Yeah.

“Pick something that’ll wear off by morning. I don’t want to do the concert high,” you told him.

He went to his stash of candy and retrieved some of his gummies. He picked out a package of lemon ginger and blueberry acai gummies and walked back over to you. He handed you both packets while he went back to the kitchen to get some beer for you, and when he came back you had eaten one gummy out of each packet.

“¡Pucha! You’re only supposed to have one the first time and see how you feel,” he sat beside you. “Eat some food and we’ll watch a movie.”

You reached for a slice of pizza and cuddled up into him. He put an arm around you as he popped his own gummies, and the two of you ate pizza. “What did I do to deserve such a shitty man?” you sighed. “I – I just don’t know anymore.” You snuggled into his chest, finishing the crust of your pizza and sipping on your boba. You looked up at him, fresh tears brimming your eyes. You wiped at them harshly as you set your drink back down “I’m lucky to have you, Sero. I really am.”  

He leaned down and before he could stop himself he was kissing you, one hand coming up to cup your face in his palm. You didn’t pull away, and when he did you were staring at him with wide eyes.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he mentally cursed himself out as you processed the kiss. “I’m sorry mi media naranja. I just-” you reached up and kissed him back, soft and timid and sweet. You tasted like pizza and brown sugar and as he pulled you into his lap everything in the world made sense to him. Your kisses grew more and more desperate, and he responded in kind, running his hands along your thighs as he helped you straddle him, your fingers dipping under the black fabric of his hoodie.

This was so wrong. You were holding his hands now, and each zinging kiss sent electric shocks zooming through his body. This was wrong – you were still grieving your relationship for Christ’s sake – but as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled away just the slightest bit – enough so you were panting against him and he could see your kiss-swollen lips – he was addicted. For him, there was just no going back.

You kept kissing him as you squirmed in his lap, and he wanted to pull away and tell you that if you kept that up, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back. As you finally chucked off your pants and underwear, he realized you had absolutely no intention of holding back. No intention of stopping. Your hands found his belt as you went back to kissing him, and he squeezed your ass with one hand while his fingers toyed with your slit. He felt a burst of pride as he felt how wet you were, and as you fished his cock out you spent only a few moments stroking it before you were guiding it inside of you.

He hissed at the sensation, shivering as you wrapped your arms around him and tugged on his hair. You began to move your hips, sighing against him as he deepened your kisses. He hadn’t wanted this to be your first time. He’d always imagined wining and dining you, sweeping you off of your feet and carrying you to bed where he would ravish you completely, but as you mouthed at his neck and held him tightly, nothing had ever felt more perfect.

“God, who could ever stand to lose you?” he asked out loud, running his fingers through your hair. “I think I’d die of sadness.”

He kissed you as you tried to respond, not sure he could stomach a rejection yet. You continued to ride him, still slow and unhurried as you just enjoyed his warmth. The intimacy. He held you like you were all that was precious to him, and as you began to slowly speed up, you felt him bucking into you. He kissed you again to stop himself from saying he loved you out loud, relishing the feeling of your fingers sneaking under his hoodie and shirt to trace along the lines of his body.

Your heavy breathing and quiet noises filled his senses, along with the sweet smell of marigolds and the feeling of euphoria your every touch brought him. “H-Hanta,” you spoke breathlessly against his lips, and his heart skipped a beat. You wrapped your arms around him once again, this time with your skin against his skin. “Hanta please.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes and he pulled you into another kiss, one hand finding your clit while the other sat on your hip, helping you ride him.

Your phone started to ring then, and the two of you ignored it as you lost yourselves. The edibles were kicking in now, leaving everything hazy and distant and a little foggy as you tangled your tongue with his. “Feels so good,” you whined a tiny bit as you said that, and the breathy need in your voice made sparks dance around his abdomen. The phone rang again, and he ignored it still as he trailed the arm up away from your hip and pulled your body flush to his. Chest to chest, he continued to play with you and hold you close and listen to your little sounds.

He let a few of his own slip as he enjoyed you, and if he had had any less composure he would have been drooling. He braced your legs against his body and clumsily rolled the two of you over so he was between your legs now, and you were under him. You pulled your arms out of his hoodie to brace yourself, but after a moment your arms and legs were wrapped around him and he was in absolute heaven. He started mumbling to you in Spanish, confessing every little dirty thing he wanted to do to you. He told you that you were beautiful and talented and that he loved you. He told you that Bakugou was the world’s biggest idiot. He also told you nasty words about how perfectly your cunt squeezed him, and as you tugged his hair he almost wondered if you understood.

“I’m gonna cum soon,” he mumbled. “Are you close?”

You nodded, locking your ankles behind his back as you once more pulled him into a kiss. That message was clear enough, he thought as he returned a hand to your clit, the other bracing himself against the couch as he held back his orgasm with everything he had.

“Mi media naranja,” he cooed, kissing you between his words. “My better half. My other half. My-” he lost his words as he watched you fall apart for him, rendered speechless by the heart-stopping moans you were letting out – so quiet but so filled with passion – and the faces you were making as your back arched and you began to throb around him. A few more strokes and he was joining you in bliss, the feeling warm and tingly as it spread throughout his body. He struggled to breathe for a few seconds as you pulled him into another kiss, deep and desperate and perfect. He lay on you for a few moments, basking in the afterglow as he rested his forehead against yours and breathed against you, giving you the occasional kisses.

Post nut clarity began to settle in as he pulled himself out of you, but as you shyly smiled up at him, he wrapped you in his arms and gave you another kiss. The phone rang a third time, and this time both of you saw the caller ID.

Of course it was him. Bakugou knew just how to ruin the moment.

Sero pressed decline as you stood and stretched, the muscles in your shoulders tense and his spunk sliding down your thighs. He had to physically restrain himself from scooping you up and carrying you to bed (and only partially because he didn’t have nearly the balance he did when he was sober). “I’m gonna have a shower,” you said awkwardly, pointing.

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Then can we cuddle?” you looked so shy as you asked that, wringing your hands. “I feel safe when I’m in your arms.”

His heart was about to win the gold medal for freestyle gymnastics if you kept that cute look on your face. He broke out into one of his trademark grins. “Mind if I join you?” he asked coyly.

You held out your hand to him, and he stood up as he accepted it. He gave you a lingering kiss you leaned into, and then tried to lead you to the bathroom, but as his pants fell down, he turned and faceplanted. Your laugh had never sounded so sweet before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Sero arrived about an hour before the concert started. You were dressed in a set of tails with your makeup done (he had watched you do it in amazement, and had just about asked you to do eyeliner on him), and as you got adjusted and warmed up (both vocally and physically), he was once again mesmerised.

You chatted with some of the other classical singers as you waited for the orchestra to arrive, and as Sero left to go warm up he found himself so incredibly reluctant to do so. He had woken up with you in his arms, and if he had to go a day without that ever again, he was sure he was going to die.

Bakugou arrived his usual thirty minutes before the concert, and you ignored him as you and the main conductor went over notes from the previous rehearsal. The hotheaded blond sauntered up to you and waited to be noticed, and he only grew more and more irritated as you ignored him. The conductor left you alone and you finally turned to face Bakugou.

“Hey,” he spoke gruffly. “You didn’t answer any of my calls.”

“I didn’t have a reason to,” you replied, calm and collected.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “Look, you were right. I’ve been an asshole. I’ve been in the wrong, and I’m sorry. Now come here and give me a hug.” He opened his arms for you.

“No,” you answered flatly.

“What do you mean no?” Bakugou snapped.

“As for your solo, you will play it the way I want you to. I am the conductor. As for our relationship, you made it clear we no longer have one, which based on the way that you’ve been acting lately sounds like the best option to me,” you answered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a show to conduct.”

“That’s it?” Bakugou hissed. “You’re just going to walk away from us like that?”

“You were the one who walked away,” you smiled over at him. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. Like you said, if you can’t keep our relationship out of this, I don’t want a relationship at all.” You looked so damned powerful in your tails as you faced the blond down. Did he even know those were his own words? “Break a leg, Bakugou.” Sero felt his heart swell with pride.

The concert started and Sero was absolutely transfixed as you stepped up to the podium. You commanded such authority in front of the crowd, deadly calm and ready to emote. It was no small wonder why you had been chosen to conduct this piece – a switch had been flipped in you, and you carried yourself like a conductor.

Bakugou waited patiently for his cue. When you made eye contact and gave it to him you didn’t linger. He played the solo exactly the way you wanted it, fingers dancing across his fret board and managing to make the piece almost melancholy. You played with that emotion, bringing out certain sections to highlight Bakugou’s playing. Sero was under your spell as he watched you move, and he smiled as he realized this was where you belonged. You were in your element without a doubt, and he was so, so proud of you.

As the piece finished you once more held all of the energy in the room within yourself, and only once you relaxed did thunderous applause fill the hall. You took your bow with a smile, and if Sero didn’t have to play the next piece he would have chased you down backstage and kissed you stupid.

Despite loving the music, he couldn’t wait to be done. Just a few mote pieces until the concert ended, and next up was you. Your character was totally different as you stepped out, no longer that powerful conductor he had seen before. Now you were Cherubino, the young man curious about love. The music swelled as you described the sensations flowing through you, and Sero wanted to call out “Yes!” as you asked if they were love.

You finished the piece with a smile, and the crowd once more erupted into applause.

Now Sero definitely needed to find you backstage. You took your bow and made your exit, and the next time he saw you, you were receiving flowers as a thank you for being a soloist. Bakugou held his own bouquet awkwardly in one arm, his violin in the other hand, but Sero could not have cared less about him as he abandoned his mallets to meet you backstage. “You were amazing, Cariño!” he declared, picking you up and spinning you around. He set you down and the two of you hugged.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” you smiled at him and pulled away. Bakugou glared at him over your shoulder, and he grinned as he flipped the blond off behind your back. “So, are you hungry?” you asked sweetly, and the sweet scent of marigolds surrounded him once more. Your bouquet was made up of them, and when you got home he was going to insist you press them. You leaned in close and whispered “We can skip out on the cast party and go right to bed if you want.”

Sero had to physically stop himself from proposing on the spot.

[fallout-through-the-crawlout]

Unpopular Headcanons About the Wasteland (Part 1?)

Language barriers have kind of shifted, as there’s hardly any schools around to teach proper grammar/language. It has become much more area based, and some bilingual spaces have shifted into a more mixed language place (following the rules of linguistics). Not enough time has progressed for any new language to form, but it is not uncommon to hear a few Spanish or even Chinese words be used by traders every now and then in place of their English counterpart.

The Institue smells like a chloroxed bathroom. You get used to it, but the smell is still there.

Deacon is a sucker for classic novels. He can quote any of Edgar Allen Poe’s famous works in a moment (he can recite all of The Raven and Annabel Lee at a moments notice).

Preston is lowkey the biggest comic book nerd of the Fallout 4 companions. He just doesn’t talk about it as he’s afraid people won’t take him seriously if he does.

Maccready got out of getting the Gunner tattoo by 1. Paying off the tattoo artist and 2. Claiming he was deadly allergic to the ink they were using. He rationed that it would be better to have him alive without a tattoo than dead with one.

Elder Maxson is a virgin. He was never given a lot of free time as a teenager, so he does not have the same sexual experience as most. He is aware it would be very easy for him to lose his virginity now, but doesn’t want to lose it to a hookup and doesn’t want to lose it to someone who just views him as “THE Elder Maxson”.

Curie cannot carry a tune to save her life, but she loves music. She lightly hums and sings softly to herself when doing tasks. Everyone finds it adorable.

X6-88 will never admit it; he is fascinated by Pre-War history. He believes it’s a fault in his programming, so he won’t talk about it at all. But it amuses him to hear stories about the American Revolution or about Ancient Rome. No living person, perhaps besides Sole, knows this.

Cait is a decent artist. She never had a chance to hone in on her artistic abilities as a kid, so nobody ever realized how good she actually was. Post Vault-95, Cait uses painting (with what she can find) and drawing to cope with her traumatic past. Everyone was really surprised at how seriously she takes it, and how beautiful her work is.

Piper’s hat was her father’s. He jokingly gave it to her a few days before he died. She’s worn it ever since she uncovered the story about the raiders and the reasons behind his death, and she put the little press patch in herself. She gets decently aggressive about others touching it, and most people know not to take it off her head.