#i could post so fucking many pieces from this artist

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 82

Another one that I love!~ Gonna be a lot of those from here on if you couldn’t tell!

Junko’s the Ultimate Fashionista (in the english release at least but hey Ultimate Gyaru has to have a little crossover right??), so of course she handles Mikan’s wardrobe the moment she’s allowed to. So . . . Extremely cute scene of her having Mikan try out clothes to see what she does and doesn’t like. 

An opportunity for Junko to pamper Mikan, AND i get to draw Mikan in a sweater???? Heaven. Also like are we all in agreement that sweaters just look fuckin amazing on Mikan?? Like I admit, I think I just like drawing Sweaters on Mikan but they just make her look so much cuter because of how god damn cozy she looks in em. 

Unfortunately that’s all I have to talk about for that topic? I think? So instead let’s shift over to a recent development involving Junkan!

I’m in the midst of working on the Junkan Christmas Eve comic, which hopefully will be getting posted on time a few days after this, and during the process of making there’s been something new with my current abilities.

I have officially hit the point of proper freehanding on these two.

Y’see this probably won’t make too much sense but i’ll do my best to explain. 

So normally when it comes to sketches I’ve done things a bit less proper compared to more professional artists. I usually get a little start on the anatomy, and then just start sketching all the character details and moving out from there. It isn’t often that I do a full sketch for the basic anatomy of a character, I only do it when I really wanna not fuck up a pose. And as you also know up till now only one piece in this event was drawn normally. Everything else is a sketch that i cleaned up and colored, or just a sketch. 

This is because generally speaking I can’t do art using my normal pen tool without a sketch to work off of, it requires a lot more finesse to use the G-Pen both because of the larger shifts that can occur in line width, and the slightly looser feel it has compared to my Pencil Tool. 

That’s all to say that I have drawn Junko and Mikan so many fucking times that I can just, draw them without proper sketches now. I’m at a point where I just need to draw the head, torso, and legs for an anatomy sketch, and then with the G-Pen I can just, draw from there. That’s big for me personally, and also fucked up because god how even??? There hasn’t been a drop in quality either so far, i’m still able to refine the expressions and i haven’t fucked up with the arms too much yet, I’d even say it’s resulted in some of my favorite Junkos and Mikans period.

Now, the catch is that again, this is only Junko and Mikan. I could prooooobably get to this point with Mukuro eventually just because her design is much simpler compared to other DR Characters? I struggle with getting her colors right rather than linework, but that’s about it and still not really useful in my main line of work unless I memorize every character that’s ever existed, and it took like 150 fucking times for Junkan I can’t do that for an obscure RPG character that I might get commissioned once and then never again. 

It’s also not something that I think i’ll apply to my normal Junkan works, because I am a perfectionist to a fault when it comes to pieces I care about and I want to make sure every detail these is exact. I need to be meticulous for ship art like this, every detail is important. And I can maximize that with sketching.

This new skill is basically useful for one thing. Speed. 

I pride myself on my efficiency, even if I have waned over the years due to burnout and overwork, when I get into it I can fuckin move with my art. And so if I need to say, make a 28 page comic in under a month? Being able to mostly skip an entire phase of the art process is very, VERY useful, ESPECIALLY because it’s a comic. Something which generally takes more time than my normal art by nature of it’s format and what it involves. When making the Comic for Day 60 it was all sketches, which was equally fast but could leave small imperfections at the time that either went under my radar or I just let slide because i was trying to be efficient. 

This is basically perfect for having to speedrun a Junkan comic, it’s all the speed with the usual amount of visual quality.

So in short . . . I’m turning into a nightmarish hell machine but specifically for drawing Junkan. I am genuinely curious how much farther I can go up from here, like, what the hell else could I be capable of with this???? Am I just gonna learn how to fuckin beam the art onto the canvas with my brain???

Moral of the story is just get mind numbingly obsessed with a ship and I guess you’ll get better at stuff??? I have no idea, i’m still kind of processing the comedic value of what this year has been because I was desperate for these two to make out. 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[communist-hatsunemiku]

キャプションの注意書き必読

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[punkitt-is-here]

Read These Frequently Asked Questions Before You Send An Ask!

Patreon | Ko-Fi | Youtube

Heyo! I get a TON of asks each day, so I'm making this post so that folks know what's already been asked so my followers don't have to see the same stuff over and over, haha.

Hi! I'm Punkitt! I'm a game developer, artist, editor, director, and a bunch of other stuff! I'm working on an RPG called Astral Guard, a platformer called Susan Taxpayer, and I have a couple more fun projects in my pocket like Happup and Super Mario Death Row.

Did you know you look like weird al?

YES jesus fucking christ i get told this every day. if u send me a message in my inbox saying i look like weird al im killing you with like wizard spells and shit.

Why do you have so many hats? Do you know you have that many hats?

ye i like hats. :) free tumblr badges for one pea i like one piece and took as many as i could. free.

Where can I find your art/game development/horsecomix?

Great question! Everything I make that's my own and not a reblog is under "my posts", every bit of art I do is under "my art", any game development I do is under "gamedev", you can find all my MLP art under "mlp, my art" or "horsecomix" for the best stuff. I also have an "animations" tag and a "shitposts" tab. I also properly tag all my asks to be asks and write out the asker's name, so if you don't wanna see those just mute the ask tag.

Do you have a Patreon or a Ko-Fi?

I do have a ko-fi here! I also JUST launched a Patreon, which you can find here :)

What do you use for your art?

I use FireAlpaca and Paint.net for misc. effects!

What are you using to make your games?

I use FireAlpaca do make my assets! Astral Guard, Happup, and any other top-down RPG games I make are all made in RPGMaker 2003. Susan Taxpayer is made in SMBX2 Beta 4, a Mario fangame engine with lua support!

Why are you using a 2-decade-plus engine to make games?

It's fun!

Do you have a sideblog or something for your art?

Not right now! What you see is what you get. I do have a sideblog for Astral Guard though, if you want to follow that game specifically! @astral-guard

Can I make an OC based on your work? ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!! THATS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU DO!!!! I WANNA SEE!!!!

Can I do dubs/redraws of your comics? As long as you credit me! I get a ton of notifs each day, so if you wanna show me (and PLEASE i so do wanna see fun dubs and redraws!!!) tag me or DM me!

Can I use your art as a PFP? Sure! Just credit me somewhere. :D

Are you the one who trapped her coworkers in a room and made them listen to TF2 lore?

Yep! Everyone had a blast actually. :]

Did you make that comic where Fluttershy eats the weed brownie/Rainbow Dash has a male living space/someone has a cutie mark that says they'll kill Ronald Reagan?

Yep! That's me.

Where are you in MLP right now?

Currently just finished Season 7! Haven't watched the movie yet.

Have you watched Equestria Girls?

Yep! Thought it was super cute. I watched up to Rainbow Rocks and plan on watching more.

What's your opinion on MLP so far?

I love it! I think it's cute. I really don't agree that there was some sort of huge quality drop after season 2 or whatever.

What do you think of G5?

Not my style! I don't really like either animation types and it just seems like I'm not in the audience anymore. That's totally chill, but it just doesn't grab me!

Have you watched any other MLP stuff from previous generations?

Nope! But I did see a compilation called Minty Being Autistic for Six Minutes Straight that I loved. she's perfect.

Favorite pony?

Don't got one, I love all the Mane Six a LOT, but I'm particularly fond of Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rarity!

Favorite episode/season?

I'm so bad at picking favorites! But any season past Season 1 I have a blast with because I feel like it's just more my style. I don't have a favorite episode, but the most recent one I can remember LOVING is the one where Starlight bottles up her emotions because it was REALLY funny.

Do you like Pony.mov?

Nope! And stop saying my stuff reminds you of it, it's a lil annoying!

Have you watched the Mentally Advanced Series/Friendship is Witchcraft/Other fandom vids?

Probably not! My interaction with the MLP fandom prior to last year was pretty minimal, so I'm making my way through the show first!

What do you think of Fallout: Equestria?

I think it's super weird but really fun because of that. I've never properly read any of it but it's very fascinating to me.

Are you transgender?

Yep! I go by she/her, I'm a trans woman. Have been for many years, but I only recently came out online!

Are you a lesbian?

Nah, I'm bisexual!

Can I commission you?

Yeah! I only have my commissions available on my Ko-Fi at certain times though, so keep an eye out! I usually announce slots being open at least 12 hours beforehand. Slots are usually first come first serve, but we'll see.

Can I use your art as a Discord emote?

Yeah man i'm not scouring every discord on the planet to find stickers of my work. i think it owns if people take my stuff and make it stupid injoke emotes between friends that makes me very happy.

Can I send you an ask inquiring about gender dysphoria?

I feel like this is beyond my capabilities of advice! I'm actually very comfortable with my body and I have been for many years, so I don't know if I can give any good or helpful advice on that front. Apologies, but there are many resources out there where you can ask about those things if you look for them, like Discord channels!

Favorite Color?

I'm a sucker for blue!

Favorite coffee?

Can't drink coffee, my stomach is cringe.

Favorite tea?

I'm lame and can't drink most tea but I love this one orange-flavored tea a lot. I also LOVE ice tea.

Can I say you're horsegender/punkittgender/a little gender goblin void thing?

Well, I can't stop you, but I'm kind of beyond that phase now! I really am a boring ol' plain she/her girl, and I like it that way. It's not much, but it's honest gender.

What's your favorite game series?

Mother, Kingdom Hearts, Mario, and I USED to say Fallout, but I found out I'm really only a big Fallout New Vegas fan.

Favorite game from those?

Mother 3 is one of my fave games of all time! I love KHII, and I'm tied for SMB3 and SMW. Also Fallout New Vegas fucks hard.

Any other favs?

Bug Fables, SLARPG, and TF2!

Favorite Movie?

Everything Everywhere All At Once, no question.

Oh, are you going to college?

Yep! I'm a film/theater major.

Do you have a YouTube channel?

Yeah! Click right here for it, I stream there and upload footage of my games/animations/my film projects + other stuff.

What is that little orange creature I see?

That's bweenop, my little persona that I use when I'm feeling a little scrunkly.

Do you have a ponysona?

Yep! Her name is Star Magnolia, you can search her on the blog to see art of her.

When will Susan Taxpayer/Astral Guard/etc. be out?

No clue! I take things slow, that's just how I am.

How do you work on so many things at once?

I make small, satisfying amounts of progress! I never try to complete one giant thing all at once, I just like doing small bursts of fun stuff. I got ADHD, so I learn to work with it.

Did you know you look like Weird Al?

Im going to run you over with a clown car watch out

WHY do you work on so many things at once?

Fun! I like learning, I like making cool stuff, and I like showing it to people :)

Do you need any help with your projects?

Potentially! I'll probably put out a post asking for help if I need it.

If you could be a horse, would you?

You kidding me? Several ton beasts with the frailty of a sickly Victorian boy; my clumsy ass would never survive.

Are you some sort of...furry?

yeag

Why do you reblog so much?

Brother I LOVE posting. that's just how it is.

Fav music artists?

It changes literally ALL the time but I will recommend ANYTHING by Vylet Pony, its music is incredible and probably the reason I'm a weird niche microcelebrity now.

Why are you like this?

theater kid + having a lot of fun on the internet makes you a bit silly hehe hoo

SUSAN TAXPAYER QUESTIONS

Is it out? Not yet! But hopefully sometime in the next year. I dunno! I take things at my own pace and keep stuff fun. :)

What are you using to make it? SMBX2! It's a free fangame engine for Mario episodes, but it's incredibly versatile and has a wonderful community, so I decided to make Susan Taxpayer in it.

Is there a demo? You betcha! You can find it right here. I'll also probably put it up on my itch.io.

How do I install it? I made a post here about how to run the SAGE '23 demo!

[akirathedramaqueen]

There's one piece of concept art that made me see the entire Apology Tour disaster in a different light.

So, we've been talking with @warblogs17282 about Stolitz and how their break-up ended up playing out in the 'Apology Tour' episode.

Why ended up? Well, there's a collection of concept art which, to my limited understanding of this craft, is one of the first steps in the production process of animation. This post by @birdy-babe includes a great chunk of it, shared by artists after the episodes aired (like storyboards, but much more stylised, showing how different some original ideas were). Long story short, one of the concept arts from the 'Apology Tour' episode suggests their quarrel was originally meant to be much harsher.

A short summary of the concept art to see what we are dealing with

In the background, you see a lot of apology postcards and silly cutesy stationery, suggesting Blitzø is in the middle of his Apology Tour.

The contact name isn't 'Stols' but 'Bird Dick,' implying their relationship is at an earlier stage, with less respect—at least on Blitzø's part.

There's a photo partially cut by the edge of the messages screen. From the signature gloves and boots, cowboy hat covering Blitzø's private parts, and visible nipples, it appears to be a nude image—replaced in later stages of development with stupid gay affirmation memes (as hard as it is to believe, I couldn't imagine there could be anything worse than the Striker horse gay jokes... well, it could, my dudes, it fucking COULD).

There are three messages, one of which is unsent:

"Stolas, cum awwwwwwn, u no u want it :)"—likely attached to the nude;

"Dude just talk to me"—desperation crawls in; he finally realises the shit has hit the fan;

"Im sowwy :("—an apology, but the text remains unsent, perhaps because it seems pointless, given that the 'Not Delivered' notifications and warning signs indicate Stolas has blocked his number.

Why do I find this fascinating, and why does it fill me with immense hope?

Because they still fucking care so much, and neither has completely closed the door on the other. By comparing the concept art to the final product, you can see how many intentional choices were made in dialogue, visuals, and behaviour to make it clear that these two idiots still want things to continue. Stolitz is meant to fucking live.

Now, if you want to see some comparisons—evidence, really—let's dive into each other's changes, focusing on what we can gather from the concept art.

Blitzø's side

Change 1—thank gods, no nudes. The gay memes are sillier and a bit lighter. Of course, they still showcase utter disrespect, a horrible prejudice against sexuality, and a poor understanding of how deeply Stolas was hurt, but I find them... less bad.

Change 2—no more 'Bird Dick.' Blitzø has actually come up with a real nickname for Stolas! Feelings are boring for you, huh, Blitzø? I can almost hear the song’s lines: "O-oh, hooked, addicted you might say, conflicted in a way…"

Change 3—Blitzø's attempts to apologize now show much more contemplation. Since Stolas hasn’t blocked him, Blitzø knows his words aren’t just being thrown into the void. Although the 'unsent' detail remains, it now carries real weight and impact.

All three changes are seen in these two GIFs.

He knows he did wrong. He knows he wants to salvage it. He might not yet know how to do it healthily, but he tries—he tries so fucking hard!

Look at the range of raw, cutting emotions as he speaks to Stolas and finally delivers his apology—probably the only one he genuinely meant. Well, maybe except for Verosika, a bit later.

It's not that it's hard for Blitzø to say 'sorry'—we've seen him do it a lot lately. He's actually quick to apologise and take responsibility, so Stolas's remark about him not feeling any remorse couldn’t be further from the truth. But the fact that he isn't running away this time—chasing after Stolas and trying his best to mend things—is drastically different from how he treated Verosika back then.

Stolas's side

Here’s the moment that struck me deep. It’s the only change, since the concept art shows Blitzø’s POV, but it’s such a significant one.

Do you think Stolas has moved on? Do you think he’s done with Blitzø? Not convinced, even when he’s literally singing about still wanting Blitzø?

Well, here’s your proof—he didn’t block Blitzø. They scrapped that.

More than that, the entire interaction emphasizes that Stolas isn’t pushing Blitzø away for good.

How do I know this? Stolas is very insistent on using phrases like 'for now,' 'right now,' and 'now' throughout his attempts to tell Blitzø off.

Here are some citations:

"I was hoping my lack of 'ha-ha's' in response to the photos you sent me would be an indicator I didn't want to talk right now."

"Seeing you right now is hard!"

"I'm tired of this! I'm uncomfortable with how you're speaking to me now!"

Why is this so important? Because he isn’t asking Blitzø to leave him forever. All he’s asking for is time.

Even while hurt, Stolas gives Blitzø plenty of chances to explain himself civilly. Look at the hopeful glances each time Blitzø shows any glimpse of genuineness.

Stolas fucking hopes Blitzø will take back all the cruel things said and brash actions done.

You know, Stolas... I've spent the entirety of this morning listening to love ballads, and that was...

For what?! You want me to be like, "Oh sorry, this entire time I assumed the worst because I was convinced a prince could never love someone like me and I've let my self-hatred stop me from apologising to anyone I could ever care about!"

You see the furrowed brows and the sad look? Stolas hopes for the best... but gets the worst because Blitzø isn’t there yet.

I’d even go so far as to say Stolas is acutely aware that Blitzø uses his brashness as a shield to protect himself. He literally sang about it in 'Just Look My Way.'

Unless it's me? And no matter what in this world I could give, it's not enough to get through these walls you've conjured up to live.

So, what gives?

Is this the behaviour of people who want to give up on a relationship they still clearly hold dear?

No. Even when they’re angry, aggressive, hurt, or drunk, they still seek understanding and forgiveness. They continue to listen and try.

They might lack the skills and may choose the wrong time, place, or words to express what truly matters...

One person, scared of being rejected so much that he unconsciously conveys this message by saying, "You don’t have to stay here with me," and carrying it throughout the whole conversation...

The other, coming to terms with his feelings, admits them, and his fears, a bit too late—when his romantic interest is too drunk to comprehend anything…

And in both cases—self-loathing, self-hatred, doubts, scars, trauma… and a lack of hope.

But there is hope. No, this is reassurance, my folks.

You know when it's hardest to stay in a relationship? When it’s hardest to come and say, "I am sorry," when it’s hardest to still love the person?

When you’re hurt. When they’ve hurt you.

And, despite that, you still come to them and still want to talk to them.

If this isn’t ironclad evidence that this is more than just a fling or a couple of fun sex dates, I don’t know what is.

And the 'Apology Tour' fucking proves it, rather than ruins it. It only strengthens the point. It’s easy to live in happiness, but it’s so hard to go through it while you’re in pain. When you see them doing that, you realise it means everything to them.

Stolitz is to live.

[centrally-unplanned]

Follow-up to my Fanroad Magazine archival scan post - let's look at some cute 90's anime art! Just random ones that caught my eye:

"Hey, what happened to me!?" As mentioned, this came out before End of Eva did - as such, Asuka & crew really didn't get much of an ending in the TV show. 100% how she would react to watching episode 26, props to our artist (春原てるも/Kasuhara Terumo)

There are just so many "Rei running with toast" pieces, it was clearly a combination of a meme amoung the fans and the theme for the magazine. Love how this one brought marmalade too - never compromise on taste, no matter how late you are.

(The artist's name is "actually, I'm a Shinji fan" btw lol)

I love finds like these - these toast-lugging Rei's are by people who are professional mangaka today! The first is by いちば仔牛/Ichiba Kousei, or "Marketplace Cow" - it ain't their birth name I am sure - and they are a founding member of the doujin circle UGO - which is still going strong! And our second is by (I am 80% sure on this one) うおなてれぴん/Uona Terepin, a quite-accomplished artist who adorably published their first professional work in 1997, a year after this. Their twitter feed is 50% big titty girls and 50% model tanks, absolutely based.

Hot👏Shinji👏Fucks👏, this piece is amazing. What else do I have to say? (緋月れん/Hizuki Ren - maybe, translating Japanese names with no context is hard guys -_-)

This is one of my favourite trends - so Evangelion has a lot of technobabble? And it is very frequently in English. So fans really liked recreating that aesthetic in their art. But in 1996 they didn't have access to like screengrabs from the show or scanned splatbooks on hand? Which meant they just used ~whatever English text they could find - generally newspapers at their university or library. Which means we get Toast Rei splashed on reports of stock indices in the global financial markets, and this beautiful moe-Rei/Asuka looking solemnly out over, uh, some report about housing prices and cholesterol levels? Technobabble indeed! (嶋屋みえ/Shimaya Mei, まなせ貴也/Manase Takaya)

Rei clone army! Adorable. (藤桜智美/Fujisakura Tomomi)

Okay, moving away from Eva, there is in fact a bunch of other properties in here with fanart, but these types stood out to me:

That seinen "Kids on the Street" energy that was peaking in the 90's; fully ~aesthetic. (Keiko Kuyuki)

And to end on a weird note:

One section of the magazine is just a free-for-all of thoughts, and one Yayoi Hirone decided to give us a girl caught in the middle of undressing...alongside a recipe for cooking shrimp. Which, if I am being honest, is a huge improvement over the bullshit they throw on recipes online these days. This is the future we could have had -_-

Anyway, I hope that was fun - if anyone is struck or amused by some of the art in the magazine, I would be happy to see what stood out to you!

[http-tokki]

need to know

~ choso kamo x fem!reader (tattoo artist choso au) ~tags/cw: tattoo artist choso, fem reader, tattoo artist au, tattoos, needles, satosugu is canon, modern au, choso has a scar over his nose instead of his markings, strangers to friend to lovers (strangers rn) tiny lil man verbal bashing cause men are weak lil babies when getting tattoos, reader is a lil chubby, choso is on antidepressants, smoking/vaping, drinking ~ wc: 2.9k ~ "Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?"

You: Wednesday 8:45pm Hi, I was just wondering if your books were still open? It says they are in your bio but in case I've missed it and they're closed, please ignore this message, sorry! :)

Kamo: Wednesday 9:23pm Hey. No, they are still open. When were you looking to book? Do you have a specific design? Or are you looking for a flash?

 

You: Thursday 11:36am Oh, hi, awesome! Thank you for getting back to me so quickly! I was looking to book next month, towards the end. On a weekend if that would be possible (I don't mind the time), and for the design, just a flash (design 3A) on your latest post on my upper arm, around 15-20cm. :)

You: Thursday 11:52pm Unless you think it should be smaller or somewhere else, I'm not picky! I really want something of yours tattooed on me :)

 Kamo: Thursday 12:15pm Sure, no problem! I have the 24th free at 12pm. Does that work for you? The spot and size are fine, but I'll make up smaller and bigger stencils on the day in case you change your mind. The total would be $600 for the piece. However, I require a $100 deposit to secure your spot. I can send you the payment details once you confirm your interest. Please read through my FAQs on cancellation policies and further information.

You: Thursday 12:20pm 24th at 12pm is perfect! Thank you!! I'll send a deposit through now! Ahh, so excited! :)

 

Kamo: Thursday 1:07pm You're welcome. Here is the link x. Please send a screenshot of your payment as proof. For the rest of the amount, I accept cash only. If you have any other questions, feel free to message me. See you on the 24th.

You: Thursday 3:30pm Sending it now! Yay! Thank you so much! Super excited, see you! :)

Kamo: Thursday 4:35 pm Seen 

--

 "I sound like an idiot, don't I?" you grumble as your friend reads over your chat with a tattoo artist.

You watch your friend tilt their glasses down, squinting at the screen as their mouth curls into a grimace. They try to hide it with a sniffle, disguising their obvious disgust over your intense enthusiasm.

"Not an idiot," they hand the phone back to you, a frown set in the crooked way it always did when they were uncomfortable. "Just really, really eager, which can be cute if you like that."

--

Choso is growing tired. 

At what? There are too many contributing factors to the headache that had begun blooming his eyes five minutes after stepping into the studio to pinpoint the main culprit of his budding exhaustion. Maybe it was the late night/early morning combo, or perhaps it was the horrific lack of water and food he hadn't consumed in the last twenty-four hours. When was the last time he had taken his medication? Choso begins to run through the previous days in an attempt to remember when he had even glanced at the Zoloft sheet sitting in the bottom drawer of his trolley, but his attention is diverted from his lack of self-care to the man sitting in his tattoo chair. 

It is coming up on the two-hour mark since his client walked in. With a brazen attitude that could rival a Greek god, the man had outlined what had to be the simplest fucking tattoo known to man. Choso had rolled his eyes at the frankly impressive and thorough drawing done by the twenty-something gym bro before shifting the paper off to his younger brother. 

"Come on, it's easy! An hour tops, and then you've got like two fifty in your hand! You technically owe me an observation session, and this can be it." Yuji had gripped his brother's sleeve, tugging on it the way he used to when they were kids. 

Taking in his younger half-brother as his apprentice was a good idea in theory. The two lived and worked together, so there was ample time for obvs and practice, but today was already busy, and Choso was feeling like complete and utter shit. 

"Yuji, I don't want to do this. I have a client coming in at twelve for a full session, and I've got this headache and-"

"It's easy money, come on! Please." it technically was easy money. The design was a small band wrapped around the bicep, with no adornments or script, just a flat black line; it was the client himself that made Choso apprehensive. 

"Fine." Choso sighed, and Yuji almost jumped into the air in excitement. "You prep and clean him; I'm not doing anything but the actual tattoo." 

Yuji nodded eagerly and just about ran into the front room to confirm the walk-in appointment. 

That was almost two hours ago, and Choso is still here, finishing up the outlines of the band on a guy twice his size but carrying on like a toddler. Each touch of the needle on skin had the man flinching and hissing through his teeth, and there is only so much Choso could take. 

Choso eyes the clock nervously, his next appointment slot ticking closer but the second. There isn't going to be enough time to get out and grab a coffee or snack from the corner store. After another quick glance at the amount of work before him, Choso calls it fifteen minutes to twelve and clicks off the tattoo gun with a disappointed sigh.

 "Hey, I'm sorry, but we might have to split this into two sessions." 

He looks back over at this current client, who is sweating profusely. It takes everything in him to scowl in disgust at the once brazen man before him, but not the look on his client's face; Choso knows some form of repugnance had slipped through his composure. 

 "Yeah, sure, man, no sweat," the client replies, relief blatant in his sigh. "Sorry for taking so many breaks. I've got a weak pain tolerance."

That makes Choso feel a little bad.

"You're fine. I've just got a pre-booked client coming in like ten and need to set up." A little lie to hurry the man up. 

Hope is so close. So attainable that Choso can almost feel the sun on his face, but the shop bells slice through any dream of a break. 

"Hi, I'm here for my twelve with Kamo?" 

Choso slouches, attention now on the conversation happening in the front room. It's not even twelve yet! Why would she be here so early? 

"Yep! We've got you down for twelve, but Choso's still with someone, so if you wanna wait here, that's okay!" Yuji giggles in response. 

"Ohh, I'm just here to ask if umm…Choso wanted a coffee or anything?" his name is a question on her tongue. "I'm going to go get one and wanted to ask if anyone wanted anything so you don't have to wait in line." 

That's nice. Choso thinks and leans back on his chair, attempting to glimpse his new client, who has Yuji giggling at every word. 

"I was just about to step out to get coffee so I can come with you, but I can get Cho's; you don't need to pay for him." Another giggle. God, his younger brother is shameless. 

"That's okay! I can get them; just write your orders down so I don't forget!" the girl insists.  

"Ohh, but-"disappointment fills Yuji's voice. 

"Yuji, can you come here please!" Choso shouts down the hall, pulling his brother away from his new crush. 

Yuji groans, then the shop bells ring again, and then the sound of footsteps shuffles down the hall. 

"Yes?" 

"Can you wrap him up and finish the payment? I need a smoke." Choso rolled back from the bed, handing over the second skin he has yet to unwrap. 

Choso's brother sighs but offers the male client a friendly smile, sits down in the now vacant rollaway stool, and begins to prep the skin for wrap-up.

"I'll be back in five; if anyone needs me, tell them to wait." Choso grumbles the last part and offers a stiff wave to his current client before disappearing into the hall. 

 The knots in Choso's shoulder have been building for days now, and no amount of rolling or stretching seems to relieve the tension in his muscles, but it is nice to stretch and feel the blood move around him again. Heavy boots echo through the small shop as he stalks to the front desk, floorboards creaking under the weight of thick rubber soles. His fingers slip into his back pocket to reach for the small pack of menthols hastily shoved down after the abrupt end of his morning break. 

Stepping out into the world, Choso is blinded by the sun. Having forgotten about the passage of time while being stuck indoors all day, he now stands stunned in the small alcove of the shop's entrance. The sun nears the centre of the sky, beating down the world in a heat never seen before. It wasn't even the beginning of summer, and the sweltering days were breaking temperature records. Choso shields his eyes with a hand, and even then, his vision is blurred as his retinas adjust. 

The street is quiet; an abnormal silence had fallen over the usually busy road, but with the rising blistering temps, he suspects people aren't willing to brave the heat to shop or eat. Choso finds the familiar recess in the wall, a door had been there years ago but has long since been boarded up and now acts as refuge for him and his brother. Through any weather, time of day or season, the small alcove is a sanctuary for tired and burnt-out artists needing a second away from the constant buzz of tattoo guns. 

Choso scans the few open cafes and bars for his mystery client. Mainly office workers on lunch break and mothers with strollers waiting for the afternoon pick up; he can't see anyone that fits the image he had concocted in his mind on the short walk over until he spots a girl standing in line across the way. The tattoos that adorn her legs are what Choso notices first. Patchwork pieces from different artists in black and white with pops of colour here and there, but for the most part are monochromatic, all spaced far enough to be their own pieces but not so much that they seem gap-y. He is impressed at the choice, knowing that when getting patchwork pieces, they are usually slapped in any available location, but from what he can see, every piece flowed into each other and told a story against her skin. Her arms are equally as covered, though with more room, and he is eager to see the works up close. A flash of pink catches his attention, and he narrows his attention on the pink My Melody backpack that she swings at her side, pink wallet clutched in her free hand as she shifts her weight from her toes to her heels. Choso smirks at the bag and finds himself willing her to turn so he can see the face of the girl who we had been staring at for the past five minutes. 

He is staring and he needs to stop before he gets caught. Shifting his attention from the random woman, he fishes out his phone and focuses on the seemingly endless DMs and texts stacked on the lock screen. Sometimes, he wonders if he really should have gone into a career where his livelihood relied on communicating with strangers. With expert precision and one hand, he pulls a cigarette from the crumpled packet and slips the filter between his teeth. Biting down the filter, the taste of menthol fills his mouth, and relief floods his veins before settling in the deep groves of his brain. The cigarette isn't even lit yet, but his nervous system knows that the taste of mint will soon be followed by nicotine, and all will be well for a few minutes. Breaking the habit of smoking has been on Choso's New Year's resolution lists for the past three years, but he only ever lasts a few weeks before turning back to the comfort of those overpriced joints. Maybe next year will be the year. Choso digs through his pockets, fingers grasping for the lighter he keeps in his right pant pocket, but there is nothing. Maybe the other side? Still nothing. Third pocket? Fourth pocket? Nada. Zilch. Zero. Fuck. 

There isn't enough time to go back inside to search for matches, and he had already popped the filter and doesn't want to waste the smoke, but it would get gross sitting in the packet- his headache grew. 

"Choso?" a soft voice asks from above.

Choso looks up from his lap and is greeted by the most stunning woman he has ever seen. Breathing is no longer automatic as he stares at you, and when his lungs start to contract almost painfully, he realises and takes in an all too obvious breath.

It wasn't fair to look like that. With the sun illuminating your silhouette, cradling you in an angelic aura that has Choso debating on whether he should get on his knees and pray to you, but too much time has passed since you spoke and he acknowledged you that he has to say something, but all he can manage is a muffled yeah?

"I'm your twelve, but you look like you need a light?" you hold out a bright pink light between pretty pink manicured fingers. 

Choso offers a tight-lipped smile to prevent the cigarette from falling from his mouth and takes the lighter, flicking it to life. "Thanks, I owe ya."

He holds the flame to the tobacco, and only when it glows bright does he pull the disposable away.

"It didn't cost me anything, so nothing to owe."

There is a beat of silence as you throw the light back into your bag before bending down to pick up the coffee you had set at your feet. "Also, a coffee." another offer towards him. 

"The guy at the desk gave me your order, and I always buy my artists something before a session. I'm not hitting on you."

Your admission of this not being a move stirs something in him. Choso accepts the cold cup with a soft thank you, angling his hand away from yours, careful not to burn you with the lit smoke.

 "I'll meet you inside. Give you a moment to yourself." you nod towards the door of the studio, feet already turning to start walking towards the entrance. 

He watches you walk away, a smile creeping on his face despite not knowing why. You're as cute from the front as you are from the back, and he's glad the girl he had seen in the coffee shop is you. Soft curves make up your figure, dipping at your waist before filling out again over your bust. Choso feels his stomach twist in that familiar feeling, but he can't think of you like that; you're a client and nothing more. There is a mesmerising way in which you walk that has Choso unable to look away, and even when you've stepped into the studio, his gaze lingers on the empty space you once stood in until the rancid taste of burnt filter fills his mouth. Never in his life has he been as thankful for coffee as he is in that moment when burnt paper fills his senses. Taking a big gulp of the sweet but still bitter drink, it takes everything in him not to spit in the street, but he was raised better than that and will wait until he is in the small bathroom to spit up the gross contents.

 --

 When Choso returns, you are sitting on the small couch in the waiting room, filling out consent forms. Head down as you read the number of your ID and scribe it down in the open line; he walks past you, suddenly horrified by his heavy choice of shoe. The thick thud of the rubber soles on the hardwood has you lifting your head and smiling at your artist. Choso feels his stomach flip.

"So," Choso starts, but the smoke still in his throat chokes the word. He clears his throat and restarts his sentence. "So, do you smoke, or do you just carry the lighter?"

"My best friend smokes, so I just carry it 'cause you never know when you're gonna need a light." Your laugh is contained, almost forced, as if the interaction you are having is uncomfortable for you. Had he done something wrong?

"Ohh." Is his only reply as you return to the balanced folder on your lap.

Another moment of silence before Choso steps towards the hall. "I'll let Yuji check you in, and then just come in when you're ready." Had he already made you that uncomfortable in the two minutes you had spoken outside? Choso takes a deep breath as he steps into his space and suddenly wishes the whiney baby was the one getting tattooed.

--

You: Saturday 12:05pm Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:06pm suck his dick? ik guys like that :P 

You: Saturday 12:06pm Idk what I expected from you. I need actual advice, please Saturo. U owe me!

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:07pm ooh first name, you're kinda scary. Okay, here is what you do. You act like a normal human and then flirt a lil and suss out if he's into it and then ask him out to drinks?

You: Saturday 12:08pm That works if I KNEW HOW TO FLIRT. Ugh im screwed, he's so fine fuck

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:09pm eww, you're getting ur jizz all over the screen. just breathe and be normal okay, pretend he's me.

You: Saturday 12:10pm  Ignoring the first comment. Im gonna sneak a pic and show u BRO YOU NEED TO SEE HIM

Number ONE best friend: 12:10pm creepy but okeeeeyyy. Sugu also says to breathe and be normal but to ignore anything you think I would do

You: Saturday 12:11pm Thanks, Suguru, please kill him for me, ill talk to u guys in a bit

Number ONE best friend:  good luck bestie 8======D

a/n: okay so there is going to be a part two but I'm not sure when, please give me feedback if you want it or want me to stop, put the laptop down and go outside lmao lil texting format, lemme know how y'all feel about that

[blaacknoir]

Hi, you recently reblogged a post about how Nanowrimo is not disallowing or disavowing AI because doing so is classist and ablist and in your tags suggested that you consider this "yikes."

Honestly, it kind of hurt my feelings as a person with a disability who occasionally uses AI as a disability aid. Let me explain.

I use AI frequently for word recall. I have ADHD- a lot of people do. Many people with ADHD, including myself, struggle with word recall. It can be extremely bad, but how bad it is day to day is variable, and not all people with ADHD struggle with this to the same degree. When my word recall is really bad, NLP's (Natural Language Processors) are practically tailor-made to find that exact word I need. As an example, I used AI to remind me just now about the term "Natural Language Processor," which, along with the term "machine learning," is frankly just a better description than AI for these tools. But I will continue using the term AI for convenience.

The fact that people do not imagine this sort of use in conjunction with AI IS a form of ablism. They immediately assume all use is infringing. If they actually talked to people with disabilities (who do use AI), they would discover these other uses, and perhaps the conversation could be elevated to a more constructive state instead of trying to make everyone who uses a tool feel "yikes" for using it. Many of us are extremely conscientious and well informed of the issues involved.

Consider that if someone has said something is ablist (or classist or any other -ist,) they just might have a point and that you should try to discover what that point is before assuming that it's fake. Don't take everything at face value, but don't dismiss it out of hand either. Listen to people who have differing opinions and try to get the nuances of the conversation.

When people think about AI being used in conjunction with writing and visual art, they only consider the egregious uses - which makes sense, as that is how AI is advertised; as a magic technology that solves ALL problems. But those egregious uses are not the only use of these tools. AI does not have to be a magic wand that replaces the creative process of an artist. I have given one example of such a use above, but I could list many more.

If your "yikes" is in regard to the ecological impact - I hope that the overzealous implementation of AI into everything takes the ecological facts into account and that is ammealorated, but please do not throw people with disabilities under the bus while trying to make buses less polluting.

//The only use of AI in this post was to help me remember the word Natural Language Processor - I know my tone is pretty formal and sometimes comes across as AI, but it's not.

Jeezly fucking crow, dude. It was a single-word comment. I hope you sent this to literally everyone else who commented in a similar manner.

I use AI frequently for word recall. I have ADHD- a lot of people do. Many people with ADHD, including myself, struggle with word recall. It can be extremely bad, but how bad it is day to day is variable, and not all people with ADHD struggle with this to the same degree. When my word recall is really bad, NLP's (Natural Language Processors) are practically tailor-made to find that exact word I need. As an example, I used AI to remind me just now about the term "Natural Language Processor," which, along with the term "machine learning," is frankly just a better description than AI for these tools. But I will continue using the term AI for convenience.

I also have ADHD. I also struggle with word recall. You know what I do? I google things. I use dictionary and thesaurus websites. I use OneLook, which suggests associated words, similar words, and similar concepts.

Not everyone who uses AI is stealing from artists, no, but it's well known that AI does scan people's art--almost always without their consent--to generate pieces. It's also been seen around places like AO3, scraping fics from unlocked accounts.

Personally, I dislike the implication that disabled (or poor--that's what "classist" means here) people are incapable of writing without an AI generating something for them. I've written 100k+ words on AO3, and all of them are mine. I've talked to friends, I've written parallel fics, I've rewritten my own stories, but those words are mine. I wrote them. A disabled person. To imply that I need AI to do that pisses me off.

And believe it or not, my primary dislike of AI isn't ableist or classsist or whatever. (I'm not even against all forms of AI! I understand that in some fields, analyitical AI is quite helpful--I've read that it's great at finding breast cancer, for example.) My primary beef with AI, especially generative AI like ChatGPT is the fact that:

It will just lie to you. It will just make up things. There are people who have used it in court cases (it didn't work), and there are people using it to write books--everything from cookbooks to mushroom identification guides. (Guess what amateurs need expert help with when they're starting out? You know, so they don't die?) It's also happened with animal care guides. AI doesn't need to be used in a generative context at all.

There is also a massive environmental impact that I rarely, if ever, see talked about.

[reachartwork]

Let me tell you something about art, and being an artist: I went to art college and I dropped out. Over the years, I stopped doing art, and I no longer consider myself to be an artist, but I know I could pick it up again in an instant if I so chose because I remember the most important lesson I learned from my studies: art is communication. The medium doesn't matter, the method doesn't matter, the results don't matter. A generated piece has just as much place as artwork as a lithograph, or a sculpture, or a photo, or a painting, or a sketch, or anything else that conveys a vision or an idea. And just like all of the methods I've just mentioned, generated art will not and cannot replace its forebears. For example, one of the most-viewed images in the entire world is this:

Despite it being viewed by exponentially more people than the most famous of paintings, it hasn't replaced them. In the same way 3D rendering didn't replace photography, in the same way photography didn't replace portraits, in the same way portraits didn't replace sculpture, in the same way sculpture didn't replace carving, in the same way a new technique will not replace anything - it will simply exist beside the other genres and mediums, with its own rules, and its own boundaries, just as everything else that came before it has.

And don't get me started on how many times we've had this conversation about what art is the best or what gets to be considered art. Hell, Wikipedia's article on the hierarchy of genres has one of my most favorite examples:

Against the sculptors, Leonardo argued that the intellectual effort necessary to create an illusion of three-dimensionality made the painters' art superior to that of the sculptor, who could do so merely by recording appearances.

Leonardo Fucking Da Vinci out here being a messy bitch about sculpting because it's not his preferred method. The exact same argument was used against photography in antiquity because it was simply capturing an image of what existed, and then it was used again against renders because "computer graphics aren't real" and "you're just posing models with fake lighting".

AI Art and the generation of images is just the new photography: a mechanically-assisted art form with a radical method of producing a piece that is rarely judged by its own merits because it has yet to be commonly understood. It IS art, and it's in the best interests of anyone who believes otherwise to study Art History and see how many times the same exact backlash has popped up against what we now consider to be traditional and respectable forms. I know change is scary, but it is possible to be better than your instincts and accept or embrace something new - even if it's not something that you, personally, would like to use.

posting without comment

[leftneb]

alr here's me yapping about the landoscar Detroit: Become Human AU @lyslsstuff and I have cooked up over the past week or so

(decided to make a full post about it bc a. I have many MANY thoughts about it and b. you people are clearly not normal about this either) (affectionately)

first off have another WIP (peep the blue blush and the lines on their faces I'm totally normal about it yesyes) I unironically had to hide their heads a couple times because the sheer homosexual glee on their faces was making me nauseous (this is how I know I've succeeded as an artist)

the main concept goes: oscar is an F1 driver, and lando is one of his android mechanics. unbenoknownst to the general public (and pretty much everyone except like. zak brown) is that oscar is also an android

androids are very much banned from f1

lando starts out as a normal android, just following his programming and minding his own business really. altough the au plays out after the android revolution androids are still mistreated, just in subtler ways. technically they're not owned by anyone (but they're only allowed to exist when employed) and there's no segregation in public (but there's no laws against it) and some people are vaguely accepting (guess what there's no hate crime or hate speech laws either)

basically I went with the game's commentary on capitalism and treatment of minorities and made it a lot more actual c: we're not oppressing you (but we're also not not oppressing you)

the real plot begins when lando (accidentally) finds out that oscar is an android, which both of them proceed to be completely normal and not disgustingly in love about for the rest of eternity

one of my favorite things about this au (and this was completely unplanned it sorta just happened on it's own) is that the car is basically the 3rd main character. the way I'd explain it is basically: rk800 connor in the game is able to reconstruct entire events (crimes in his case) by examining details and piecing it all together. both lando (being a mechanic) and oscar (actually pulling functions out of the thing) are intimately familiar with the car, like they KNOW it on a personal level pretty much, they can reconstruct every single thing that is happening mechanically by hearing the sound it's making alone

for oscar this is sort of unfortunate because he is suspiciously good at telling when something is wrong (way before anyone else can really). but it also makes both of them emotionally attached feel connected to their machines which I think would be a genuinely interesting aspect of having androids in motorsports

thought I had while writing that paragraph: since irl the cars are usually identified by their drivers' numbers ("car number 4" and such) it could be that oscar litterally just calls his car "81". like that's just it's name. very creative ik

for the enjoyers of the original game I'd add that oscar's deviancy arc (in the sense of which impulses he recieves that lead him to disobey his programming) is most similar to markus' while lando's is more akin to connor's

bonus details that I can't really fit in a paragraph but want to add anyway:

android movements being inhumanly smooth conveniently mirrors oscar's irl driving style (minimal movement)

oscar normally has his pain receptors on despite being able to disable them. something about wanting to feel human (refuses to turn them off after crashes he feels were his fault despite mark scolding him about it)

yk the thing where both of these idiots are always dressed for opposite weather? yeah here it actually makes sense they were just programmed that way

I have no idea where lando's name comes from androids don't have names by default. they just get called "it" for the most part except oscar sometimes slips up and calls lando by his given name (that sounds very trans when I put it like that) which everyone else collectively goes "who the FUCK is lando" at

android transgenderism

I will not elaborate on that (note: I am trans. I will project this)

fun fact the piece that started it all ^^ was quite litterally just me seeing a picture of lando and going "dbh vibes" despite my knowledge of the game consisting of maybe half a playthrough I kinda-watched in 2021 (tubbo played it on stream lmao). it's safe to say that I may have hyperfixated on it a little tiny bit taking into account the 10 hours of playthrough I've watched and 2283 words of google doc we've written since that fateful day. whoopsies

also want to conclude this by saying that I purposefully didn't give too much away about the AU plot-wise because the hypothetical fic that hypothetically may come into existance at some point is hypothetically still a ways away and I don't want to spoil it too hard. consider this a director's commentary if you will

lmk if you wanna be added to the tag list for posts related to this au btw!!! I absolutely love hearing people's thoughts on it (though I am gonna be a bit busy in the coming weeks)

tag list (more people asked me to talk about this than I anticipated soz if I didn't respond directly I hope this makes up for it) @roosterhouse @wisteriagoesvroom @kpiastri @kingkestrel

[beenbaanbuun]

j have to say i love the way u write jongho so badddd ALL OF UR POSTS R SO GRRFFGGGRGDGD

anyways while we’re here… what if 🧍pt 2 of 🧍the 🧍pool fic 🧍🧍

he was so cute there 🙁🙁 (AUUGHHHGHGHGHVC) if not tho i would like to request more awkward/loser jongho he is real and has my whole heart 😞😞

thank u for writing in general tho u eat tf up everytime

okay so i am planning a part 2 to the pool fic!!!! but it’s not written yet… BUT!!!!!!!!! here is more awkward jongho for your viewing pleasure :D

(also those photos of him… your honour i love him. he’s so silly 😓)

words - 1.7k

genre - suggestive/nsfw

warnings - loser!jongho, jongho is thinking thoughts about the reader, slight dom!reader/sub!jongho, teasing, reader calls jongho good boy…, public touching off peen but also no one can tell, i think that’s it??

——————————————————————————-

if jongho were an artist then you would be his muse. right in this moment, he can find a million things he would love to replicate in oils. everything from the way your delicately painted fingernails pick at a ball of lint on your skirt to the print of lipgloss left on the half-empty coffee mug deserves to be immortalised on canvas. the fact that it's only the first date should make him feel insane, but all he can think is that perhaps if things progress between the both of you, he'll be able to find a million more things to admire.

"i like your shirt," you smile, the world immediately seeming brighter as you do. he smiles back, although it feels a bit forced. not because he doesn't want to smile back--god, just sitting here and looking at you makes him want to do nothing *but* smile--but because he feels he can do nothing but sit and stare in awe, slack jawed and eyes wide. "i haven't seen you wear that one in class before.”

that sets his face on fire, painting his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. you notice him in lectures? not just that but you notice what he wears? he casts an eye down towards the shirt that's slung loosely over his plain black t-shirt. he'd figured it was far too formal just to wear to class but if you like it... well, maybe dressing up a little more wouldn't be too much of an issue. when he looks back up, he immediately forgets what the shirt looks like, his brain flooded once more with the image of you.

"thank you… i like your shirt too," he repeats your compliment back to you, unsure of what else he should say. of course, theres so many things more that he likes than just the flimsy piece of fabric that adorns your top half, but despite the poems and soliloqies hes writing in his head, its hard to get the words out. he settles for your shirt; its easy to compliment you on that when the words have already been said by you.

"youve seen it before, though," you giggle, and his heart does a little dance in his chest. if only everything could sound as sweet as you. if he could hear you every day for the rest of his life, hes sure thered be nothing to be miserable about ever again. you bite your lower lip to stifle the sound, and he can’t quite work out how he feels about that. he wants to hear you more, but just the sight of your teeth sinking into that pink fleshy pillow is enough to make his heart trip and stumble down several flights of stairs.

holy fuck.

of course, he’s spent hours studying your face before now, sitting in lectures picking out each feature and coming up with a million and one reasons as to why he adores them. your lips are something he’s already committed to memory, the colour, the shape, the way they look wrapped around the neck of the water bottle you bring to every lecture. this is the first time he’s seen them in this light though. up close, being tugged upon by your teeth in such a manner that he can’t help but let his mind wander to some less than savoury places.

he swallows down the saliva that had begun to gather upon his tongue; he’s a gentleman and these thoughts really shouldn’t be in the forefront of his mind right now. he shouldn’t be wondering how you look on top of him, hips swaying back and forth with your lip tucked away to stifle your moans. he tries to pull his eyes away to stifle his overactive imagination, but when they land on your thighs instead, he gives up. he’s a gentleman, he can have a normal conversation while his mind runs wild with the fantasies of what he’d do to you if you were in his bed.

“it’s still a pretty shirt,” his voice is quiet, yet it still somehow manages to crack. it’s humiliating, of course it is, but it’s made even worse when the pretty sound of your laughter starts up again. it still sounds like wind chimes on an autumn day, but this time he can feel the bitter breeze that rings them nipping at his skin. he doesn’t blame you for laughing at him; he would too. in fact, he probably would’ve laughed the second he asked you out on this date if he were in your shoes. why would someone as perfect as you even bother to look at someone like him?

he’s half expecting some cruel jest from you. a little joke you make at his expense just to make yourself feel better about this weird guy you’ve found yourself on a date with. he can take it, he tells himself; it’s what he assumed would happen anyway.

but instead he hears the scrape of a mug being pushed across the table, your mouth silent except for the biting giggles that still flow freely from it. he looks up to your face once more only to see anything but the animosity he was expecting. a kind toothy grin paired with your wide eyes that he fell in love with the very first time he spotted you. you look kind, not at all like the image he’d been painting in his head. it’s a relief and the invisible noose that had been slowly tightening around his neck loosens. he can breathe again, knowing that nothing has changed from when he first set foot in the cafe, despite his body’s attempt to sabotage him.

“here,” your voice is warm, just like it always is. if your laughter is a wind chime on a cool autumn day, then your voice is most certainly the crackling fire that awaits him inside. “you finished your drink but it sounds like you need another. you can have mine, i’ll go and grab anotherfor myself.”

you begin to lift yourself from your chair, and before he even realises what he’s doing a demanding, “no,” comes from jongho. you pause, eyes flickering over to him in question. he shakes his head, more at himself than to you, yet you seem to respond, sitting yourself back down on the seat without little complaint. so obedient, he notices, although the thought is quickly pushed away by the shame he still feels. he takes a sip of your drink to soothe his throat. “i’ll get you one in a moment,” he forces his words out, “i’ve taken yours, i’m not going to make you buy a new one for yourself.”

“i don’t mind,” you say softly as jongho takes another sip, “you can just buy me something on our next date!”

and just like that, jongho’s mind just… stops. he forgets what it means to breathe, the oxygen hitching in his throat as he inhaled through his nose. the liquid his mouth refuses to slide down his neck with ease, catching right at the entrance to his throat and making him cough. he splutters, the rest of the coffee expelling itself from his mouth and flying all over his own lap. “shit,” he murmurs, hands flying into action to clean himself up, only for more coffee to slosh ungracefully over the side of the cup, “fucking hell!”

“jongho!” he can't even blink before you’re there at his side, kneeling on the cold wood floor of the cafe with a napkin in hand. it’s like you’re not even thinking when you begin to dab at his stomach with the cloth, touching his tummy so gently that it sends tingles up and down his spine. his hands fly immediately to the arms of his chair and he clings onto them for dear life.

it’s worse when your hand travels a little further south, grazing the waistband of his jeans. he squeezes his eyes shut as you pat the damp material, not sparing a single second to consider what having your hand so close to his cock might be doing to his sanity. he can feel it stirring, his underwear becoming tighter and tighter with each passing second. there’s nothing he can do about it other than hope you don’t notice—

“oh,” your hand falls limp against his thigh as your gaze locks onto the quite obvious bulge that he’s sporting. of course he is, what else would you expect when you sit there rubbing at his almost-crotch? sure, you were just trying to be helpful but now jongho is hard and it’s not like he could exactly help it.

he watches you intently as your gaze shifts to his face, looking even more beautiful from this close up. you’re mere inches away; if he were to just bend down a little, he could snag your lips in a kiss. he so badly wants to, however, he can’t imagine it would help his case at all.

“you’re hard,” you whisper to him.

he nods.

“i am,” he doesn’t know what else to say. you caught him and that’s that. what, is he supposed to deny it? how can he when your hand lays just ever-so-slightly left of the evidence.

“is it my fault?” the corner of your mouth twitches into a sly smirk, letting jongho know that you already know the answer. nevertheless, he nods, gulping down the lump that’s beginning to form in his throat. “sorry, i didn’t quite hear that.”

“yes,” he hisses out through gritted teeth, “it’s your fault.” you smile at him, beautiful and dangerous.

“so i guess that means i should fix it, right?” you hand shifts the tiniest bit, catching the edge of his erection with your finger tip. he winces, body twitching in reaction to your cruel maneuver. for someone so sweet, it seems you have a bit of a mean streak. jongho can hardly complain; you look hot sitting by his feet as you tease him. damn his shyness, honestly. if it wasn’t for that, he’d love nothing more than to show you who’s in charge. for now, though, he guesses he can let you have your fun.

“please,” he sighs as you apply a little more pressure to his bulge. to anyone else, it might just look like you’re an overly attentive girlfriend dabbing at the spilt coffee; to jongho you look like the picture of filth.

“good boy,” you whisper to him, and despite jongho’s own preference for dominance, he has to admit that those words sound so pretty coming from you. a shiver makes its way up his spine. “meet me in the bathroom in 5.”

[c-rowlesblogs]

so someone reblogged a Gao Hang piece to my dash and I was like oh cool! That guy who does paintings that look exactly like oldschool 3D graphics; I love that guy! So I went looking for more of his paintings to add to the post, for people who might not realize it was paint instead of 3D art, and I found lots of great stuff! Like "For home defense 2", 2020:

and "Hand study", 2023:

and... um... hm.

"The fake picture fooled every American", 2020. From the instagram post he made for this painting:

gaohangart: I always wanted to discuss about the power of language and the right of speech: You should trust a Chinese looking man like me rather than Google. When you search Tiananmen Square on Google all you get are pictures of the Tank Man. This isn’t Tiananmen Square. The Tank Man was a fake picture and people give so much fuck about it. However it has entertained all of us. You see? Speech could be anything, but not all speeches are worth being listened. What’s really important is that we are viruses to earth and we are not working hard enough. You see? Another one.

The photo he's referencing is one of the most famous photos of the 20th century, taken by Jeff Widener of the Associated Press on June 5th, 1989 in Beijing. It depicts a man blocking a column of tanks, the day after the Tiananmen Square massacre:

the photo is real. The guy in it is real. It's one of many photos taken of this real guy by multiple other real guys from different news outlets. There is video footage of this guy. The reason why Gao Hang believes the photo is fake might likely be because this photo is ruthlessly censored in China, where he is from. I think the thing about people being "viruses to earth and [...] not working hard enough" is supposed to be an example of another kind of speech that's "not worth listening to", but I'm not totally sure what he means by it.

And when someone in the comments asks him for what the truth is behind the photo, this exchange happens:

commenter: what's the history of the tank picture then? That's wild to hear gaohangart: It depends on who you trust and what you believe you see. Quantum theory you know.

Quantum theory, you know.

I don't know what the takeaway is here. Go looking up more of a cool artist's work, be confused and dismayed at the power of censorship and the weird twists people's brains can have in them? But there it is.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for calling a (now ex-) mutual a stingy asshole?

So to start, I (NB20) am in a pretty rough situation, I'm facing homelessness soon, transphobia at home and work and my hours have been getting cut resulting in me making even less money that can sustain me. I have a toyhou.se forum post up stating I have emergency commissions open to help me out and to please support me if you can. This is where the situation begins. I have a mutual on toyhou.se who I'll call Apple (MTF22) I talk to sometimes to the point I'd say we are friends, not super close but friends nonetheless. She made a bulletin telling people about my commissions and to please comm me if they could which I'm very grateful for since I did get a few customers from her because of that. The thing is, a few weeks later, she made a bulletin talking about how happy she was so many commissions she bought were finished around the same time and posted all of them with the artists tagged in the post. It was honestly... quite a few, I'm talking like 9 pieces of art of her fursona and even a custom vtuber model she got of her sona. I was going to reply all happy for her, but it made me think... how much did she spend on those commissions?? So I went through all the artists socials to find their commission prices and came to a total of fucking $385!!! More than half of my current goal I'm trying to make through commissions to stay out of homelessness!! So I messaged Apple saying since I saw she bought a few commissions if she was interested in buying a comm from me. She replies saying "Ohh! I'd love to <333 but im just not in a place to buy any more comms right now :< sorry >.<!!" So I casually reply really? because it seems like your in the perfect place to help me out after already spending over $300 in commissions. She tells me she's sorry and really wishes someone would be able to help me out but she just wasn't that interested in my art or a custom to which I tell her she could've easily donated to my ko-fi which I have always had since she clearly has money to spend? To this, she straight up IP blocks me. So still fucking annoyed, I vented in a discord server I share with a few friends from being in a few shared CS together, saying how annoying it is rich assholes like her would drop half a thousand for a picture of their fursona but don't even blink twice at their so called friends. anyway, one of my friends takes a look at Apples th profile and notices she has a new bulletin up and sends me a screenshot, but anways the bulletin reads like "hey!! just saying, but please dont come into my dms acting like you know my financial situation better than i do, just because i buy a lot of commissions doesnt mean im made of money! and please dont think that me commisioning artist 1 means i hate artist 2? thats so weird, thanks!!!!!" and seeing all their subscribers just kissing her ass pissed me off so i made my own bulletin that just stated "i thought it was pretty fucking weird to know how bad ur friend's situation was and to go buy a bunch of comms instead of buying a comm from or even throwing a buck to help me out? like yeah im gonna think i know ur situation better than u, you stingy fuck!!!" Anyway, she mustve been block evading (which I reported her for) since she unblocked me, took a screenshot of my bulletin, then went on about how she lived in an abusive household; her dad had thrown her into a sink and chipped her tooth, bruised half her face and scarred it pretty badly. She bought a bunch of commissions immediately afterwards in a panic to make herself feel better, paying everything with her savings. Which to me.. isn't an excuse. Ive been hit and abused and still found scraps of money to pull together to give to mutuals who need it and Ive been bumping my own post like crazy and she had literal weeks to donate or comm me. Not to mention Ive had exmutuals of hers come to me saying that shes never donated anything to them either despite advertising their posts but always had money for plushies, comms and other crap, meaning Im not alone in thinking shes a stingy asshole. This is getting long, so here, tumblr AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[thatfilthyanimal]

What are your thoughts on Schaffrillas?

Oh Anon I really hope this is being sent in good faith and isn't just bait because well. Hm.

I want to like the dude. I do. Without his review of Megamind (2010) I'm not sure Megamind would have had such a resurgeance that it's had in the recent years. And for a long time, I deeply respected the dude for that.

But I also had slowly fallen into the youtube trap of what I will not-so-affectionately call "ragebait youtubers", which are people who profit off of whatever new piece of media is the Big Thing To Hate. I was subscribed to a bunch of them, and had my big laughs at all the new "terrible" media coming out, for years.

And then suddenly Megamind Vs The Doom Syndicate was the new thing to hate. It was no longer funny. At all. Everyone I subscribed to dogpiled onto it and collectively sabotaged the series following it (many of which were people regurgitating things every other reviewer was saying, often getting things wrong about either Vs The Doom Syndicate or the show following it, Megamind Rules, if they even knew the show existed at all). The Rotten Tomatoes reviews tanked. The screenwriters got threats of violence on their personal blogs, one person actually stating that they wished they could cut their hands off so they could never write again. (Hi, what the fuck?) The Megamind tags were flooded by hate. The fans that DID like the new stuff were dogpiled and told they were stupid Dreamworks shills being paid to promote the new stuff. Nobody believed that there were actual fans that actually liked the new stuff, because the fans of people who do ragebait youtuber shit are miserable, unhappy people who fail to see joy in anything new just because it isn't 100% perfect.

My biggest gripe with Schaffrillas is the fanbase he caters to these days. I have not watched his newest videos about the new Megamind stuff (I refuse to watch any of it; I refuse to give these people my views for their blatant misinformation and hostility towards something "mid" at worst) but there was a SIGNIFICANT uptick in both hate in the fandom tags and harassment to both fans and the screenwriters on twitter, here, youtube, ANYWHERE-- after his video. I don't believe this was his actual intention, he's obviously not a dick, but I refuse to entertain the idea that his intention with his newest videos wasn't careless. "Why Megamind 2 Is A Cinematic Disaster" is a title implying the lie that Megamind Vs The Doom Syndicate is something that should be held up to the same standard as a theatrical "Megamind 2" and the dude is smart enough to know exactly that. The thing is, it ISN'T "Megamind 2", it's an extended pilot episode to a low budget straight-to-streaming show that is actually very damn good. Before Schaffrillas even got to review it, before it even released, I had seen news outlets falsely labeling it as "Megamind 2" in the same way, getting people's hopes up. I asked the screenwriters in a (now deleted because Elon sucks and lots of people fled the site) twitter post if they considered the film/series to be a proper sequel on par with a title like "Megamind 2" or not, and the response was basically "we just consider it a continuation of his story", aka what I took away from it: "No. Not a grand theatrical sequel like everyone is implying. But more stuff, regardless." My own expectations going in were lower, because of this, and I wasn't as greatly disappointed as everyone else who was under the impression this would be some high-budget Puss In Boots The Last Wish level production. Not these people's fault! News outlets and youtubers BOTH painted this film like it was supposed to be more!!

And the kicker to all of that is Dreamworks fully failed to promote Megamind Rules properly. In the advertising for Vs The Doom Syndicate, the show is mentioned as an afterthought at the end, as if there isn't like 7hrs of content behind that film to still watch after, that the writers/artists put blood/sweat/tears into for years beforehand. I assume there was a lot of push to have a pilot episode get turned into a "movie" even though it would have been better as maybe two episodes. But the backlash from the internet seemed to have hurt the Megamind Team SO BAD that the advertising for the 2nd half of the first season didn't even get finished. One of the team members slipped the unfinished ad video onto twitter finally. The ONLY people who advertised the 2nd half of the series were the Megamind Team themselves, and the fans who liked the show. Dreamworks social media was absolutely silent about it, choosing to promote everything else instead. Ragebait youtubers, and this culture of hating EVERY new piece of media that comes out, whether it deserves it or not (spoilers: it rarely ever does) had damaged the future of this show when it truly didn't deserve it. Dreamworks threw their hands in the air and gave up. The Megamind Team did their best to still promote it because their paychecks probably rely on it and they knew old fans still liked the new stuff even IF there was overwhelming backlash about it!

I don't think Schaffrillas realizes the full impact of everything he says and does in his videos these days. I don't know if any ragebait youtuber even cares anymore, as long as they get paid by Daddy Youtube for churning out the next video as quickly as possible before anyone can watch things for themselves and form their own opinions on anything. Does Moana 2 actually suck or is youtube just feeding me videos by unwashed losers who are mad their sequel isn't Shrek 2 perfect? I don't know!! But it's all I see! "This new movie sucks!!" "This new show sucks!!" "This new game sucks!!" holy shit! The reason I -LIKED- people making videos about Megamind before all of this was because the reception was generally entirely positive! People were talking about it because they LIKED it! Schaffrillas, give me a video over a damn hour about everything you LIKE about Megamind and I'll freakin' watch it. I will NOT sit there for an hour listening to someone complain about a piece of media they could just stop watching or walk away from and choose to go watch anything else the actually LIKE instead. IDK!! Idk. I'm old, I'm cranky, I'm tired. I'm glad people have mostly moved on by now and I can have a shred of normalcy back in the tags again. But it will forever be marred and ugly from all the hate from everyone shitting on the newest stuff (whether it deserves it or not) and I will forever be nervous to promote my fandom server to new fans for fear of one of these big youtubers dropping another "this movie sucks" video and their fans going to the tags on various sites to find ways to grief the fanbases for liking something "so horrible". Which, yes, already happened. A lot. (We banned a lot of people this year when we rarely ever had to before this :/)

I don't know if the dude realizes the bridges he's burned, both in the Megamind fandom and with various Dreamworks employees (not just about Megamind, mind you, but also other recent things he's said). This is NOT the way to get anywhere if that's what he's trying to do. It's just going to get him remembered as the dude who made people lose money/jobs because they couldn't make a budget larger from thin air, or couldn't read minds on what would be considered "good enough" to a larger swath of fans of something.

The Megamind Team is full of really good people who really did do a good job and tried VERY HARD with A LOT going against them to make a good product that would make fans happy. It certainly made ME happy! It was consistent with the the original canon material and even borrowed from fandom theories for some things (probably unintentionally? but it's still funny to me). Somehow Schaff managed to make a video over an hour long about everything bad about it. I don't see it that way, and it must be infuriating to live in a world where you CAN find over an hour's worth of stuff to bitch about with it. Yeah, the animation is crunchy and the pilot film goes on a bit long and could have been shorter. Whoo. I'm done. It was easy. Not over an hour long.

There's also a thing about the DeGun? Idk. I don't have the full context but I assume it's about the opening scene where Megamind doesn't dehydrate the Go Fish Gang dudes as they're running away. From a writing perspective, the building should have been completely flooded with water, so it makes sense that he wouldn't. Obviously though the animators didn't have time for the water everywhere or it just got overlooked. But also, Megamind sucks at his job. That's the point. He's new and he's not good. He also canonically doesn't use his DeGun to dehydrate people well before this! Metro Man, Titan, hell-- the whole tower falling towards them at the end of the movie? There's clearly rules towards his tech that are being followed (or the guy is just an idiot idk) that we don't ever get told about, and yeah that would probably be good, but personally all I thought was "ok he's dumb but let's go XD;" when it happened and that was it. I also didn't have monetary incentive to make an hour long video about hating it, though. So. Y'know.

All I really want is for the dude to reflect on where his videos are currently heading and, again, the bridges he's burning due to the careers and lives he's hurting by going this route. I can't sit here and pat his ass for him and tell him he's doing a great job when I feel like he's doing more harm than good, and apparently that's enough reason for his fanboys to have a problem with me and harass me and other fans. Again, I want to like the dude. But at the moment I don't think I can. Maybe he's said some really nice stuff in his recent videos, I don't know! I just know how his fans reacted and how much damage it did, and I don't care to look further.

As usual I just want to say that even if you don't like the movie, the show Megamind Rules is REALLY good and the ending is fantastic and satisfying. It's worth sticking it out, but you HAVE to try to put aside the urge to hatewatch and instead just watch for fun. This stuff is meant to be ENJOYED. Stop holding yourselves back from that. The world is hateful enough already.

[lilredbird101]

I Would – Sevika x OC (Delilah)

OKAY~! So this is my first actual story that I'm posting on here. I've written a lot for myself but they've all sat on my laptop. *Hides hands shaking with nerves*

This piece was inspired by the cute AF art done by @sumilane.

It involves my OC, an environmental scientist and engineer called Delilah. She's a Piltover whistleblower who ratted on the company she was working for. They'd been finding work arounds with waste disposal regulations to cut costs and now she's down in the lanes. I'm not much of a digital artist, so this is my Picrew rendition of her. Unfortunately they don't do accents of greens and blues in the hair colours, so please imagine.

Now, I know that sumilane's art has S2 Sevika hair, but let's just play around with time lines here.

Also, Delilah calls Sevika "Osavika". It's a play on the Spanish word for "bear" - "osa". No, she's not Spanish, and YES, I know Spain doesn't exist in Arcane's universe. Let me be cute XD

Anyway, here is my sappy af fanfiction!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Genuinely, fuck my life.”

Sevika knew who it was before they’d even spoken. Delilah rarely went for any other shoes than her blunnies, and the weight and pace of her gait in them was distinct. Slightly heavy with purpose but twisting and skipping around obstacles lithely. However, Sevika was usually the first seated at the Last Drop for their meetups and by now could tell Delilah’s mood from her step. Today, they trudged.

Sevika glanced her way as she shed her lab coat with stiff shoulders, sighed and slumped onto the stool next to her at the empty bar, flopping her head onto the sticky tabletop. Only Silco’s top employees could be there before evening hours, and there wasn’t anyone else around to witness the lax in professional poise. “Rough day for you too, huh?”

Delilah peered up, old bar nut crumbs sticking to her forehead, noticing a few new bruises and cuts along Sevika’s body. Her eyebrows bounced up, but not in worry – she knew Osavika could take a beating, “Oh shit. How’s the other guy?”

Sevika’s mouth twitched upwards as she reached for her bottle and another glass to pour, “Lying in an alley with many regrets and broken ribs.” She slipped the glass into Delilah’s hand, gently brushing the food from her brow. Delilah scrunched her eyes shut as they tickled her nose. “What about you? You look like shit.”

Delilah scoffed and raised the glass to her lips, knowing full well how her crumpled and stained lab coat, red eyes with dark circles, pale and sunken cheeks, cracked lips and greasy, frizz-ball hair looked. “Silco’s got me working double time until the new compound is finished. Urgh!” She grimaced at the taste of the amber liquid, “This tastes like acetone.”

Sevika reached out, “Well in that case, I’ll take it back.” Delilah snatched her hand back, smacking the hand and gave a playfully indignant look. Sevika’s shoulders bounced, chuckling, “Then don’t complain about free drinks.” Delilah smiled and nodded in thanks and a long silence hung in the air. Sevika rolled her eyes, “You can still complain about everything else if you want.” Having known each other so long by this point, their time together was always the highlight of both women’s days, and a safe venting point. Anyone who’d seen their first interactions would not believe that these where the two same people they’d seen several years ago.

Their “bond” had formed early into Delilah’s contract with Silco.

He was conducting an inspection of the labs to make sure everything was running smoothly under new management. Sevika looked her up and down. The slight little thing had the body more of a dancer than one in their dangerous business, and she moved like it to, gliding with a bounce in her step from bench to bench.

Delilah noticed her wandering eyes, “Anything wrong, Sevika?” She spoke as if each consonant and vowel deserved recognition. Delilah’s voice had lilted out from her mouth like fluttering velvet during the explanation of possible carcinogenic side effects of long-term use, and Sevika found the contrast of presence to present such a juxtaposition. Messing with this little bird will be so much fun.

Sevika leaned against a table and noticed how Delilah tensed up, glancing at the set-up behind her, “Oh nothing, twinkle-toes. Just watching your moves. With pegs like that, what were you? Some kind of ballerina in your infinite spare-time?” She jabbed.

Delilah’s face remained neutral as she collected papers to let Silco check, “Lessons from five to seventeen years. Mum insisted. Principle ballerina in my cohort for six. Why? Are you wanting lessons?”

Sevika laughed, “Certainly not.”

Delilah turned back to her; now it was her turned to look Sevika over, “Shame. I’d pay to see you in a leotard.” And just like that, she was back to her tour with Silco.

Sevika blinked, What in the…? If this little fairy wanted to try and show her up or rattle her, she had another thing coming.

For the next long while, Sevika was strutting around and poking her nose into work benches. She’d seen the woman react when she got too close to them. Delilah liked things just-so and was hyperaware of every millimetre a Bunsen or beaker budged under Sevika’s prodding. She was trying hard to concentrate on Silco’s questioning, but this woman’s damn roaming and smirking was distracting for so many reasons. The feeling built up like beetles scuttering up her back and into her brain.

While Silco was grilling Delilah on specifics, she noticed Sevika messing around with the glassware currently distilling a new shimmer formula she was testing, making a full flask under the rotary evaporator tip dangerously. She immediately turned from Silco mid-sentence, “I’m sorry, sir-,” and— SNAP! Delilah’s voice dropped like a stone, booming out in gravelly baritone built to project, “Get your paws off my equipment you bloody great bear of a bothersome bitch!” It was like a different person burst forward. Her whole posture and accent had changed to something more guttural, more feral.

Delilah stormed over and shoved between her workspace and the woman who was at least a head taller, “If you want to blow yourself up then go ahead and piss that blue-hair brat off, maybe she’ll do you a favour, but don’t go fucking around with this shit. It is volatile IN the body alone, even after testing, and I haven’t run any on this unfiltered stuff yet. I appreciate this is not your field but take some professional advice and BACK OFF.”

Sevika paused, registering that this noodle-armed twig had just insulted her AND ordered her about. Her condescending smirk returned, “Professional advice? I thought you were stripped of all those shiny credentials after the racket you made whistleblowing Up Top.”

“It’s called sacrifice. But then again, I hear you know a lot about that.” Delilah wasn’t shielded from water-cooler talk. She knew all about Vander and the kids, despite being from Piltover.

The corners of Sevika’s eyes tensed, making her mouth appear all the more sharp, “Careful, Sunshine. Bears can get awfully heavy-handed when upset.” Delilah didn’t ease up, she actually raised herself on her tippy toes to get closer to Sevika’s face. Adorable.

“Aww, did I upset you? Go on then, Osavika, take a swipe. Just remember that I’m now the only person on your team that actually knows how to make your fluro coke syrup from scratch.”

Sevika couldn’t believe she was actually having fun underneath her scathed pride, “There are plenty of ways to hurt someone without taking them out of commission.” She gave the balanced Delilah a small shove to the chest, sending her tippy-toes down and scuttling to right themselves.

“Ha! Try it! I’m running off a three-day shift, four hours sleep, a caffeine overdose, ire and manic fucking energy. I guarantee I’ll at least get a few bites in.”

That sent a completely new feeling to Sevika’s gut.

“Ladies!” Silco was momentarily amused, but now just perturbed by the disruption.

The two women eased back, but Delilah wouldn’t return to Silco and the conversation until Sevika moved away from the bench space. She stared her down/up until the woman stepped back. Like a cloud soothing itself after a storm, Delilah posture and voice floated back to it’s original poise and tone, “Apologies, sir. Now, you specified that you wanted a longer run of the effects per dose. Understandable, but I wanted to discuss the side-effects and “hangover” of such a dosage with you. Are you wanting your users to actually LIVE through the experience or is “single use” what you’re going for here? Because I’m going to need more time and resources if it’s the former…”

Delilah kept glancing back towards Sevika occasionally to make sure she was keeping her hands at bay… And to… No, keep your head focused… Unpack that mess of thoughts later.

It had been nearly three years since then, and each gruelling week had brought more stock to their sparring relationship. Then through the tough times it simmered down to mutual respect and appreciation, eventually into what could be called a burgeoning friendship. When Sevika had invited Delilah out for a drink after work, that friendship quickly solidified. They’d had more in common than they originally thought, and being in the same space felt natural after the first hour.

Their company became routine. After-work drinks and matches at the pool table were where it started. Delilah had a terrible poker-face compared to seasoned pros, so cards weren’t an option with more serious players as Sevika quickly found out when she made a terrible decision to fund Delilah’s first games. Teaching her how to line up the cue, take long shots and snooker fools was much easier since she was a visual learner and knew how to work angles. Getting up close and personal to show her the holds was also a bonus for Sevika, though she wouldn’t admit it.

They started not-so-discretely scheduling their rounds and duties to coincide despite their different fields, Sevika volunteering to do follow-ups in the labs just to talk, and Delilah often personally delivering updates in Silco’s office instead of using lackies. Delilah enjoyed bringing the meagre crop of veg from her balcony garden to gift Sevika and invited her over many times to excitedly show her the new sprouts of greens when they finally emerged. They even went going out to get dinner on late nights at work, ending with Sevika dropping Delilah off at home personally… For safety reasons of course.

When Delilah invited Sevika in for late night drinks her mind was flooded with how she might usually play this with other women, but as they sat on the balcony and watched the skyline, it felt too sacred a moment for that. It felt like she’d been given a rest stop or sanctuary. At some point Delilah was mentioning how much she missed her father. She wished desperately that she could return to Piltover and mess around in his workshop with him again, have a joint in the gardens or just fucking talk to him. It was her one regret of her actions.

Sevika surprised herself.

“He sounds nice. Better than mine, anyway.” Delilah cocked her head to the side, not pushing for details or denying with an, Oh he can’t be that bad. Just listening. “Strong family units are hard to find in Zaun, as I’m sure you can imagine. Even more-so when your mum has had enough of the booze and debt and walks out. He didn’t take it easy on me before and sure as Hell didn’t after… Maybe I looked a little too much like her…” She took a sip of her whiskey, but barely moved otherwise, “Got his fucking eyes though…” Her bitterness at that last fact seeped through in her tone, just a little. A cluster of decorative amber lights in the distance brought back a kind pair of irises from Sevika’s memory, and she wished with everything that she’d been given those instead. That she could still look at her before she slept… Just one last time.

Delilah let the moment sit before reaching towards her friend, brushing her cheek. Sevika was startled to feel a tear smudging against Delilah’s soft thumb. “She must have been very beautiful.”

Sevika’s eyes widened slightly in shock at the tenderness of it all, and she tried not to let her lips wobble, “… She was.”

A feeling, so strong and burning like coals rose from her gut as she looked back at Delilah and absorbed the warmth radiating off her… Then she realised…

Damn it.

Inside jokes abound by then and the two felt comfortable enough to get into each other’s space. Not because their shackled feelings were secretly eating them up on the inside. No, of course not. Certainly not because every little touch or lingering morsel of eye-contact had their nerves zinging like electricity through copper wiring.

One time, Sevika was leaning over Delilah’s shoulder to observe the notes she was showing Silco, and her exhale skimmed Delilah’s neck, wafting into her own airways. She felt a fool, but Delilah could have sworn the warmth of it had snaked into her gut and impregnated her, even though she knew the reproductive and respiratory systems weren’t linked that way. She made a mental note to set up her showcase on cramped desk corners more often.

Another time, Sevika was escorting Delilah to a nearby shimmer outlet. It was a particularly hot day and Delilah asked ever so sweetly for a sip from Sevika’s canteen. Her dry windpipe made her voice sound hypnotically smoky, and how could Sevika say no? How could she look away from the droplet that hung at the corner of her mouth, or the pink tip of her tongue that darted out to catch it? How could she not let her tastebuds linger on the remnants of coconut lip balm around the rim of her bottle later?

And don’t get any ideas. Sevika only called Delilah “Sunshine” to make fun of her untameable sun-bleached curls, not because she felt warmer and lighter when Delilah was nearby. And Delilah only added Osa to the start of Sevika’s name so frequently because of the bear joke, not because she felt safe, protected and calm whenever Sevika was around. She didn’t even know the word’s original language fully; she just thought it was an apt pun.

Their infatuation – nay – deep affections were visible to anyone who cared to look or had the time, but somehow these two women, both brilliant in their own fields, had absolutely no damn clue. Or maybe they just couldn’t risk realising. Sometimes the now is too precious to risk the what if.

Delilah let her breath out in a slow, robust, steady blow – a regular stim Sevika had noticed at work -, pulling the pencil from her hair that was holding the lengths of curls up and dropping it to the bar-top with a clatter. The release of pressure had her sighing as she ran her hands through the unwashed mess, and Sevika tried not to file the view away for later. “What am I doing here, Sevika?” The despondent tone got her attention, and she turned to face her coworker more directly. “Like, is it really all worth it? I know it is, but… Is it?”

Delilah turned to her, with such a sad, confused void of a look that Sevika didn’t know what to do with. “… You know I’m not a mind reader, right? You’ll have to give me more detail than that if you want an opinion.”

Delilah breathed again, “When you’re a kid you get told the basic outline of life people follow, and most of us just aim to be happy. Well, here I am, and I feel like I’m in limbo or hell or… Something! My plan was always to get my higher education (check), become an environmental scientist or engineer (check), and find some way to reverse the caustic pollutants that filter down into Zaun,” Delilah made a comically negative buzzer sound and took another sip. “No one gave a fuck up top, and I burnt all my bridges by pushing too hard. Now I’m working for effectively a drug lord in exchange for funding which by the time I take out my living expenses is pittance. The work conditions are shit too, I’m in constant burnout, and as a Topsider no one wants anything to do with me down here! I have no one…”

Sevika looked down at her drink, trying not to let that last remark sting.

Delilah winced, realising how that must have sounded, “Except for you.” She reached her hand out to rest ever so naturally on Sevika’s metal wrist. She didn’t know what Sevika would call their connection to anyone else or if they would ever have anything more, but she knew what it was to herself and that it was at least a deep friendship between them… And that meant the world to Delilah. Sevika was technically her superior, sure, but it hadn’t felt like that for years. To Delilah it was so much more, even if it was just wishful thinking that was becoming harder and harder to silence.

There was something niggling in how Sevika made regular check-ins at the labs, why she felt that Sevika always listened with gruff but genuine care, why Sevika had made sure no one at work or the Last Drop gave her a hard time, why Sevika’s mere presence made her feel like she was in her own secure little bubble. And that barely scratched the surface. Sevika was the best part of any days Delilah spent down in Zaun. Even if what some said was true and it was just to protect an asset of Silco’s, Delilah still felt that… “You are my rough-as-guts saving grace here, Osavika.” The nickname played on her lips deliciously.

God, that smile. Sevika did a great job of hiding it, but she couldn’t ignore the volts that trilled up her arm at Delilah’s touch. It was just phantom pains, but God! Her body gave her no choice but to return the smile in her slight way. “Good save, there Lila.”

“I mean it.” Delilah squeezed the metal before letting go, as if it would have the give or sensation of flesh. “You’re my solace.” She looked forward and took another sip.

Sevika’s tone changed, “What would you do?”

“Huh?”

“If you could choose another life?” Sevika seemed hesitant, playing with the rim of her glass. She hadn’t had many conversations like this before Delilah came along. No one really seemed to think they had other options down here, but she was curious.

Delilah shook her head, “I’ve seen too many damaged by the waste pouring from Piltover. I have a moral obligation to fix this, or at least try. I couldn’t walk away from my work now--”

Sevika cut her off, “But if you could. No moral responsibility. No rules or restrictions. No one else to answer to… What would you do?”

Delilah was taken aback. She hadn’t thought about it in so long, but an image she had as a child came back into her mind. Suddenly her eyes didn’t seem so weary.

“A little house out in nature somewhere. Lots of windows for natural light, clear skies, a little garden with a bird bath, and a water source nearby. Maybe the beach or a river. I don’t know what I’d do to support myself, but maybe I could just get by. And maybe, if I’m lucky, I could have someone to share it with.”

The figure she envisioned with her was so clear in Delilah’s mind. They seemed lighter in the open space away from carnage, smile lines growing around their mouth instead of constant frown lines on their forehead. The sun, good food and rest had softened their dark circles, and their metal claws were replaced with appendages better suited for cuddling by firelight under stars. She wished she could take them away and show them something better. Delilah tried not to blush or look towards the woman by her side.

Sevika watched her mind wandering. It seemed like such a nice vision that she was envious of whomever Delilah would share it with. “It sounds nice,” she said softly, softer than she’d meant it to come out. The vision seemed to have Sevika in a daze as she imagined Little Lila pulling up crop from the dirt, painting the delicate flowers she’d doodle in her lab notes onto the door frame, or washing clothes by the river. Whenever she walked past her at the shimmer labs, Sevika could smell the orange blossom and jasmine oil Delilah dropped into her laundry, and she imagined what it would be like to carry the same smell. Sevika tried not to be so indulgent as to insert herself there in Delilah’s fantasy, but the idea of sharing all that with her felt so easy that she almost forgot who she was in service to.

Delilah shook herself, “Yeah, well, I know I would most definitely need another person to get that idea going. Money is scarce for everyone and a freedom like that is pricy. No one in Zaun would trust each other enough outside of marriage to share funds like that. No one above or below trusts me enough to get to know me in the first place, I barely have enough free time to brush my teeth under Silco let alone go on a date, and who in their right mind would want any part of Silco’s network, anyway? There’s no way I’d be able to get close to anyone to where they’d want to spend a life with me, never mind marriage.”

It slipped out of Sevika’s mouth as naturally as breathing, “I’d marry you.”

…

The air froze.

Delilah slowly turned to look in Sevika’s grey eyes. They’d always reminded her of heavy clouds ready to cool the earth. A brewing storm ready to unleash invigorating, glorious potential energy into the air and light up the sky. She shook her head, trying to get a grip of herself. She must have heard wrong!

“I’m sorry, say that again?”

For once in her life, Sevika felt cold with fear and hot with embarrassment all at once. She scolded herself as her eyes darted down. What had she done? Why would Lovely Lila want someone like her? How could she have jeopardised this one good thing in her life. God, she was a fool!

…

But she wasn’t a coward. She’d already said it. No turning back now. Sevika brought her eyes back to Delilah’s and in a moment her turmoil was swept away in fields of pale green on an overcast day; a natural soft-fall, a masterpiece hiding intricate life beneath it made from infinite small strokes, capable of growing nearly anywhere. She could almost feel the breeze on her face as she stepped out of THEIR front door. The one with the little flowers painted on it.

“I… I’d marry you.” And then it all felt so easy, “In a heartbeat.”

Delilah’s breath caught in her chest, “You… You would…? Really?” Sevika slowly nodded. “But… WHY?” Delilah sounded utterly bewildered. Hearing this seemed so surreal to her she’d dare not trust her own senses.

Sevika reached out tentatively, giving Delilah plenty of time to pull away before her flesh hand reached hers, “Because when I’m around you I forget who I’m meant to be. I feel like the world isn’t as big, ruthless or cruel. Your laugh plays in my head as I go to sleep, and when I wake up – most often from dreams of you - I feel like I’m holding my breath until I see you again. You’re one of the first people in so long who values me as a whole, someone I can completely trust to share myself with, and I love that you trust me enough to do the same.”

Delilah couldn’t believe that such a proclamation that she’d only ever imagined in her daydreams was happening. She knew what it would be taking for Sevika to be so vulnerable, and it filled her chest with a golden joy like sunshine throwing rainbows onto a wall through hanging crystals in a window. She was only kicking herself that she hadn’t done the same sooner.

Sevika continued, “I know our situation is difficult, and I know your work is important and comes first, but… When you’re ready… When you’re ready to live for you… I will spend my days making sure that you’re happy. Until then… I’ll take any part of you that you can give, and I’ll give you anything you want of me.”

Tears that she hadn’t realised were forming finally rolled down Delilah’s cheeks. Sevika reached up to cup her face ever so gently - a tenderness that she would hesitate to show in front of others – and Delilah leaned into it like a little kitten in relief, her own palm raising to press it further. The metal of her hand cooled Delilah’s flushed flesh as she wiped away the offending droplets, and though she knew Sevika couldn’t truly feel it, Delilah pressed a kiss into it anyway. Sevika’s voice came out in a whisper, “I love you, Delilah.”

Delilah’s breath escaped in shudders as the years of yearning finally flew out of her in an explosion of butterflies. More tears flowed and she giggled at the silly worry of bringing rust to Sevika’s hand. Delilah threaded her hands into Sevika’s short locks and brought her forehead to rest on hers, tasting each other’s breath in the small space.

“Oh, good grief, Sevika… I love you too.” And in that moment their lips and hearts finally met.

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: creature of mine

"Dunno why, but s'not working this time. M'not resssponding to it." Crowley's eyes flickered with something entirely unreadable. "I need a warm body." "I see." "Can't even use my fingers properly with these bloody claws. Still, feels better to have something warm, something moving." Aziraphale attempted to make sense of Crowley's words, his head pounding viciously. A warm body. "Would you like me to... hold you again?" Crowley smiled, open-mouthed and beastly. His fangs glistened in the darkness. "Need you to fuck me, angel." Or: Aziraphale buys Crowley a snake plant, hoping to please Crowley with the appealing smell of its flowers. Its effects on Crowley are far more extreme than Aziraphale anticipated, and it’s down to him to face them head-on.

Length: 21,253 Words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: After Dark, Canon AU

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia

*Minor Spoilers* Buckle in, it's long post time. I admit to bias in the length of this post because I love this author, but above all, my enjoyment of this story is so genuine and I am so proud to recommend that you all read it too. This was written for the sex pollen event that has been going on recently (so many more for me to read!) and it's one I knew was coming but didn't know too many details about. So when I woke up to the email that it was posted, I knew I was going to have such a good morning, and oooh boy did I.

Caught outside in the rain, Aziraphale steps briefly into an exotic plant shop to stay dry. When he spots a beautiful flowering snake plant, well, he's free from Heaven now and free to buy his friend a gift. And what a gift it will be when they realize that the plant's pollen contains the exact pheromones that trigger Crowley's snake desires. Even though I knew exactly where this was going, the actual journey was so intoxicating. When the effects first take hold, neither of them knows exactly what to do. Both are locked into shame and embarrassment over the situation, but the trust and protection they have for each other is sturdy. Crowley struggles with losing control and the pain of vulnerability, while Aziraphale tries desperately to deny his own wants and desires. He represses it all to protect Crowley. And isn't this just the most beautiful metaphor for their entire relationship? As always, they get there in the end. It's as heartwarming as it is sensual. I will never tire of them completely surrendering to each other.

The thing I always love most about this narrative style is how it blends poetry and smut. It will paint with gorgeous prose and then snap our attention back with its explicit language. It's thrilling to me and a shining example of how rich smut stories can be. I'm awed and horny! And I have to say, this was such a clever and interesting take on Crowley's snake body! Naga/Monster fuckers, this one needs to be made a priority for you. It was described in excellent detail but also depicted gorgeously by the included art! I've still got goosebumps over the third piece of included art! The color palette! The bodies!! The emotion! I'm in love. Both author and artist have a talent for making me feel so at home in my own body with their works. I just trust them implicitly, and they make it so easy to imagine how everything would feel to my own skin.

This is an at-home, after-dark read. It will have you sweating and squirming, but also in awe of their closeness and the trust they have in each other. How endless their devotion is. How beautiful this story is. But let's be real, I'm also thinking about how fun their next round with this plant could be now that they're on the same page. Next time, with the walls completely down, they are going to have the most pleasurable night of their life for the rest of their lives.

Read it here, fic by ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia