#i do the flats and then i merge EVERYTHING and work like that

[1alchemistart]

braided his hair 👍

[lilislegacy]

Okay, I’m so gonna get hate for this. And it will probably get about 4 notes. This is, by far, the most opinionated thing I have ever posted on here. If you can’t tolerate criticism towards Rick Riordan, the books, or the TV show, please keep scrolling. My goal is NOT to change your mind or start arguments.

I also want to preface this by saying that I love and respect Rick Riordan (even if I disagree with him on things and don’t like some of his choices) and fully acknowledge that he has the right to do whatever the hell he pleases with his own series. I also want to say that I love Annabeth Chase (both the book and tv show version) with my entire being and you will never find me being an Annabeth hater. She’s my girl.

We good? Okay cool. So here’s the thing: I’ve seen a lot of people on here saying things like “If you didn’t like the books, you just don’t know how to have fun,” and “The new book haters are just mad that they aren’t the target audience anymore,” and (my personal favorite) “Nothing in the books has changed, only the readers have.”

And while I see your points, and I respect you, allow me to show you something. Because of the 10 picture limit, I am only going to focus on one specific change: Annabeth’s view of Percy.

WOTTG: Annabeth is surprised to be comforted by Percy

Past Books: Percy is constantly comforting Annabeth

WOTTG: Annabeth is shocked when Percy is smart

Past Books: Annabeth often points out that Percy is intelligent

WOTTG: Annabeth thinks Percy can’t do anything on his own, and Rick communicates that Annabeth is always saving his ass

Past Books: Percy is ALWAYS watching her back, and saving her ass just as much (and Annabeth admits that)

I could put a hundred quotes in here. I could go on and on and on. But I can’t, and I won’t.

My problem with this new book is NOT that it is more goofy than serious. My problem is NOT that little things have changed. My problem is NOT that it’s just for fun. My problem is NOT that it’s much more childish. (And by the way, I’ve read PJO and HOO as an adult, so it’s not like I was a child when I read everything else and am now an adult reading the new ones.) I really did like and enjoy many parts of this book.

My problem is that the characters (especially Annabeth) have flat out changed—in bad ways—and we have no choice but to accept it as canon. My problem is that Rick, while trying to merge his books with his new TV show project, is changing the entire personalities and past behaviors/ tendencies of the characters.

I loved Chalice of the Gods. You know why? It was fun, goofy, and showed the characters that we know and love being happy and adorable. I strongly dislike Wrath of the Triple Godess because the characters—no matter how adorable and happy they might be—are no longer the ones we know and love.

My problem is that Rick Riordan fully admitted that he no longer considers the old book characters when he writes the new books. He is now purposefully incorporating his own personal mixture of the book characters and tv characters and writing those versions instead. Because of his desire to change and transform the series, I doubt he’s even read the original PJO or HOO books in years, which is why everything is so inconsistent. The old book characters—the ones who made the series what it was—are gone. And that is not my opinion. Rick fully admits that he doesn’t imagine them when he writes anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the tv show actors. I adore Walker and Leah and Aryan with my whole heart, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But the fact is: they will never be exactly like the book characters. It’s impossible for actors to become the words on a page. They’re their own unique version! And likewise, you cannot turn actors into print. It doesn’t work! And why would you try? The books versions were perfect as they were. And the disney kids need to make the characters their own. The two versions can exist side by side, equally as wonderful, and still be gloriously different. We should celebrate the uniqueness of both. But instead, Rick is attempting to merge them into one. And in my opinion, it’s just hurting them both. And I’m gonna get real brave by saying this, but do you want my honest prediction? If he keeps doing what he’s doing now, the TV show is going to get cancelled and the books are going to turn into a joke. I so, so badly hope that this doesn’t happen! I have loved Rick and PJO for many, many years. I badly want both to thrive. But what is going on right now… it is not working, no matter how much we all want it to. And speaking as someone who knows people in the TV/Film industry, I am sadly not the only one who thinks the show is gonna flop. Which is devastating, because Rick Riordan deserves a redemption on the big screen, and the incredible actors deserve to bring this series to life in a new way.

I am not trying to force my opinions onto anybody. You are welcome to disagree with me and move on. I am not saying that I’m right and you’re wrong. If you disagree, that’s okay. If you agree but you don’t have a problem with it, that’s okay. In fact if other people have literally no issues, that makes me somewhat happy. And if you loved the book, I’m honestly so stoked for you. Feel free to just keep on scrolling, my friend.

But me? I’m sad. I’m really, really freaking sad. And I’m a little angry too, even if I don’t have a right to be. I can’t help it because I’m only human. But this is how I—and a lot of other people—feel. And you know what? That’s okay too. Because the fact of the matter is:

Annabeth isn’t the same Annabeth anymore. And Percy isn’t the same Percy anymore. And it’s not because they went through trauma, or because time has passed. It’s because Rick Riordan doesn’t have any interest in writing those versions of them anymore. And I think the comparisons between the old and the new show that fact pretty clearly.

[ssahotchnerr]

Aaron making hot chocolate for his little girl 😭😭😭😭 she only wants his and can tell if someone else has made it, and flat out REFUSES to drink it. Reader calls Aaron on the phone during a case and all he can hear is his daughter crying in the background and reader is like “wtf do you put in this hot chocolate??? Coke???????” because reader just cannot get it right despite Aaron walking them through the process of his hot chocolate before 😭 maybe Aaron talks on the phone with daughter for a bit to calm her down and the promise of unlimited hot chocolate once he comes home AHHHHHHH

dad's way

please 😭 and the way i literally had a hot cocoa candle burning as i worked on this cw; fem!reader, food descriptions, brief picky eater talk, girl dad!aaron <333333

"hi sweetheart-"

the shriek on the other end immediately caused him to hold his phone an inch or two away. it was piercing and loud, even for his bad ear.

concern had already swarmed his chest before the cry had ceased, and the room suddenly felt a bit hotter. "honey? is everything alright?"

there was a brief rustling sound, a small clattering of what he assumed was dishes, the close of a cabinet following after. "how do you make your hot chocolate?"

"why-"

"how, do you make your hot chocolate." you interrupted him, your voice distancing a bit for a moment, "dada's on the phone, it's okay."

"oh." aaron chuckled softly as realization hit, his voice filled with a tinge of pity. "someone's upset."

"tell me about it." you sighed in defeat, exasperation clear. "apparently, whatever i make isn't good enough. i've given her three different cups already. three. well, given the third was a reattempt of number one. but with whipped cream and sprinkles. jack too tried to persuade her, but nope. it's daddy's hot chocolate and daddy's hot chocolate only."

"is it in the right mug?"

"the one with all the little ladybugs? yup."

"okay," aaron quickly excused himself - he was still sat amongst the rest of the team, who were silently digging through records - jj shot him a sympathetic glance as he got up. he trailed down the short hallway outside the conference room, in search of a more secluded area to give instructions. "well, i usually-"

aaron walked you through it - steaming the milk, at just the right temperature. adding the cocoa mix, a little extra than the standard serving size. mini marshmallows, and the secret ingredient you had missed - adding a touch of vanilla extract. it was simple, really, but your daughter was a stickler.

she wasn't a picky eater, but was very adamant on how things were made or presented. for example, if two foods next to each other on a plate happened to merge - it was the end of the world. and when it came to aaron's hot chocolate, she couldn't get enough of it. she asked for it nightly, promptly right after dinner. she always insisted on sitting on the counter as aaron made it, watching intently and asking questions on what he was doing. it was their thing together. and more than likely, his absence was aiding to the current meltdown.

"here," aaron hears you say, your daughter's cries lessening for a moment. "this is dada's."

there was a moment's pause, and aaron could easily visualize your daughter analyzing the drink, her eyebrows furrowing in that hotchner way that was just genetic at this point - jack had it too. but as you both already anticipated, another wail produced in response.

"nooooo it's not!"

aaron heard you tiredly sigh, and he was quick to offer more assistance. "want me to talk to her?"

"please."

another shuffle came from your end of the phone, handing it to your daughter. there was a slightly louder sniffle, indicating she was close and listening.

"hi sweetheart," aaron softened his voice, his heartstrings tugging as he silently wished he was home, with you all, rather than a few states away. "what's the matter?"

another sharp sniffle. "i want your hot chocolate."

"i know bug," he consoled softly. again, his heart breaking at her small, upset voice. "but since i'm at work, mom's gonna have to make it for you."

she hesitated, bottom lip quivering. another small wail was quick to follow. "but i want yours."

"i know, but i told momma how i make it, so it'll taste exactly the same, i promise. she put all her love in it too, just like i do. which, do you wanna know a secret?"

that grabbed her attention, her cries stilling so fast it was almost humorous. "uh huh."

"that's the secret ingredient that makes it taste so good, whether mom or i make it. but you can't tell your brother that, okay? it'll be our secret."

"okay."

"so tonight, can you drink mom's hot chocolate? she worked really hard to make it special, just for you." she quieted, still unsure, so aaron switched tactics. "and when i get home, i'll make you two cups. with extra, extra marshmallows. how does that sound?"

[kaluxsims]

It's curtains for you! (evil laugh) Silliness aside, this was treat 1 for my Simblreen trick-or-treaters, a variety of recolors for creepy curtains. Dreadful drapes. Wicked window dressings. Oops, more silliness. I'll put the download up here, but there's more info and previews under the cut.

Download: SFS or MediaFire

Note: I've renamed the mesh files, so please delete the originals. This is especially important for TNW's Velvet Seclusion curtains, because I edited the mesh.

There are three parts to this recolor set. Details are under each preview.

Simplest first. Just some recolors for Veranka's 3t2 The Red Curtains. The mesh now has the original recolors merged in.

Now, the drama. The patterns. The gloomth. I lowered The Ninth Wave's 3t2 Velvet Seclusion curtains to be below the AL ceilings, but I didn't stop there. I wanted more spoop. I edited the mesh to take taller decorative top pieces and made a bat version. Because I edited the mesh, old recolors don't look right anymore. I included some recolors by Donnha that have been updated to work with my edited mesh. The flourish and doodads up at the top are done with texture transparency on a flat surface. It means the same mesh can have different shapes, and it's lower poly. It also means they sometimes look like that first one, but it's not really that noticeable when they're not against a backdrop in sunlight. They'll look better in your gloomy rooms.

Then there are some recolors of Hugelunatic's Contempo Curtain and a new wider version, so that you can do this...

The wider Contempo curtains are made to fit behind the Velvet Seclusion ones, the better to keep your sinister sims' secrets. The wider Contempo curtains are repo'ed to HL's originals.

That should be everything you need to know. Hope you like them and Happy (nearly) Halloween! The rest of my treats will be posted over the next three days, with treat 4 coming on Halloween.

Credits: Veranka for the 3t2 The Red Curtain mesh and textures, The Ninth Wave for 3t2 Velvet Seclusion mesh and texture, Donnha for additional Velvet Seclusion recolors, Hugelunatic for the Contempo Curtain mesh and texture, and the creators of the patterns used (sorry, I found them on Pinterest)

@simblreenofficial

[bloodreinasbathwater]

My Sunshine

Jack Hughes X F!Reader (pregnancy au)

a.n: Jacks initial chapters are coming to a close. after part 6 I will be putting out the mini chapters for the baby shower, nursery, birth, etc. this took forever but part 5 is finally done!!!

Warnings: pregnancy, sad jack, anxiety, mention of blood (briefly) , eventual smut. not proofread either so good luck.

Word Count - 3,728

Pregnancy series link / Jacks masterlist

Y/N's chest tightened as Jack's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his foot pressing down a bit too firmly on the gas pedal as they merged onto the bustling highway. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the road ahead, while a flock of birds soared gracefully overhead, their wings catching the golden light.

Y/N's gaze flickered between the cars rushing past them, each one a blur of colors and shapes, in the rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of Jack's jaw clenching subtly, a telltale sign of his nerves despite his outward calm demeanor.

The tension in the air was palpable, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions that churned within Y/N as she grappled with the aftermath of the fight with Jason and the numerous events from the past week.

At her latest doctor's appointment, the doctor explained that due to her hormonal makeup, she likely wouldn't experience the same swelling and baby bump as most expectant mothers.

Rather than protruding outwards, her uterus would grow inwards towards her spine, minimizing her visible signs of pregnancy. It was an atypical condition, but the baby was developing perfectly based on the dating of the ultrasound.

She had finally worked up the courage to tell her best friend Heather everything, including the fight with Jason and her fears about keeping Jack around without telling him the truth. She stole a glance at him in the driver's seat.

Jack's knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, fingers flexing anxiously. Despite his outward nerves, she found comfort in his familiar mannerisms after his team's big win last night.

"You don't have to do this if you aren't ready," Jack said, voice strained. He blinked rapidly, adam’s apple bobbing. "My parents will understand if we reschedule."

Y/N shook her head, subconsciously resting a hand on her still-flat stomach. In between putting the finishing touches on her latest book release, this had been her one constant thought. "No, I want to meet them. Just a little nervous I guess."

They neared Jack's childhood neighborhood, y/n’s stomach twisted into anxious knots, and she wiped her damp palms against her jeans. Jack's hardy pickup truck rumbled beneath them, the weather-worn bench seat creaking as she fidgeted restlessly.

He must have noticed her nerves ramping up because suddenly his calloused hand reached across the console, muscular forearm brushing her thigh as he twisted the volume dial. The opening chords of a classic country song blared through the truck's speakers, the unmistakable twang of the singer's voice filling the cab.

Then, Jack started singing - his rich voice rumbling from deep within his barrel chest. He wore a faded green jersey stretched taut across his broad shoulders, the slightest hint of chest hair peeking into the open button. Hanging one hand lazily from the steering wheel, he used the other to dramatically lip-sync and serenade Y/N with exaggerated motions.

She clapped one hand over her mouth, desperately trying to muffle the unstoppable peals of laughter at his ridiculous performance. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as Jack waggled his eyebrows and threw her sultry looks, his whole face alight with uninhibited joy.

By the time the truck rumbled up the driveway of the cozy two-story home, they were both doubled over in unbridled laughter. Jack killed the engine but left the music playing softly, the tinny sound of the singer's voice drifting through the cab.

Wiping a mirthful tear from her cheek, Y/N watched as Jack's expression softened into one of pure tenderness. He reached out to tuck an errant curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering to trace her jaw before cupping her face and drawing her in for a sweet, lingering kiss on the cheek. She melted at his unhurried affection, her heart swelling on the receiving end of such gentle adoration.

From outside the truck, one could hear the quiet murmuring of their voices and Jack's baritone humming snatches of the song's melody. His broad shoulders hunched as he ducked out of the cab before rounding the front of the truck.

The driver's side door groaned open, and Jack's scuffed air forces crunched on the paved driveway as he hurried to open Y/N's door, gentlemanly offering his hand to help guide her down from the elevated cab.

Jack gave Y/N's hand a reassuring squeeze as they started up the driveway toward the house. The warm breeze ruffled her floral sundress, the lightweight fabric swaying around her calves as they climbed the gentle slope.

Jack's parents' yard was immaculately kept - the grass a lush, emerald carpet, meticulously trimmed hedges lining the path. Vibrant flower beds brimmed with a kaleidoscope of colorful blooms nodding in the breeze. It was picture-perfect, like something out of a magazine spread.

As they drew closer, Y/N could make out two figures standing at the top of the porch steps. An older couple, the woman's hands planted firmly on her hips in a scolding posture as she appeared to be lecturing a tall, younger man who could only be Jack's brother or cousin based on his uncanny resemblance.

They seemed oblivious to the approaching pair, attention fully focused on the sheepish-looking boy shuffling his feet in front of them.

Y/N tugged on Jack's hand, leaning in close. "Jack..." she murmured, grasping tighter to his reassuring strength.

He glanced over, following her line of sight up to the porch before giving her fingers another comforting squeeze. "It's okay, I'll be right here with you," Jack said lowly. That unwavering confidence bolstered her, and Y/N nodded uncertainly before continuing their approach.

As they reached the bottom of the porch steps, the older couple finally seemed to notice their arrival. Ellen and Jim's expressions immediately transformed - the scolding looks melting into warm, welcoming smiles as they rushed forward with open arms.

"Jackie! There you are, son," Jim bellowed in a jovial tone, pulling his son in for an embrace before turning to Y/N with a wink. "And you must be the young lady who's captured my boy's heart."

"Dad, come on!" Jack groaned, a pink hue blossoming high on his chiseled cheekbones as his father clapped him firmly on the back.

Ellen wasted no time in swooping in to greet Y/N, taking the younger woman's hands in her own calloused grip as she looked her over appraisingly. There was a kindness that crinkled the corners of her eyes as she met Y/N's nervous gaze.

"It's so wonderful to finally meet you, dear," Ellen said warmly. "Jackie hasn't been able to stop talking about you since he came home from the trip." She shot a conspiratorial wink towards her son, who ducked his head sheepishly.

Before Y/N could respond, a boisterous voice rang out from the porch. "Well, well, if it isn't the golden boy himself!" The tall, broad-shouldered man lumbered down the steps, arms spread wide. "Did you really think you could come home without getting the official Lucas McManus welcome?"

Jack had barely turned before he was enveloped in a bone-crushing bear hug, his brother's meaty arms constricting around his ribs. "Ugh, Luke, get off me, you big lug!"

Luke released him with a barking laugh. "Good to see you too.” His mischievous gaze landed on Y/N hovering by Jack's side. Before she could even draw a breath to introduce herself, he stepped forward and swept her into a surprisingly gentle hug, taking care not to crush her slight frame against his hulking form.

“I’m Luke, jacks younger and cooler brother,” he stage-whispered conspiratorially with an exaggerated wink.

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at his antics, feeling some of the nervous tension bleed out of her shoulders.

…

The family dinner was a lively, boisterous affair. The rustic oak table seemed to groan under the weight of the hearty spread - a thick slab of prime rib taking center stage, surrounded by heaping bowls of roasted potatoes, buttered vegetables, and fragrant yeasty rolls.

once they settled in, knees knocking together in the tight quarters, Luke wasted no time launching into a series of merciless chirps and good-natured ribbings directed at his younger brother. Jack took it all in stride, giving as good as he got with his own sly digs and underhanded compliments cloaked in insults in that unique way only siblings could manage.

Ellen tutted disapprovingly at their antics, even as the corners of her lips quirked up in an amused smile. "Boys, not in front of our guest!" she lightly scolded, placing a reassuring hand on Y/N's arm. The warm maternal weight of it was instantly comforting.

Across the table, Jim met Y/N's eyes with a roguish wink and a conspiratorial grin, his chest puffing out proudly as he watched his sons' spirited back-and-forth like it was the culmination of some legacy lineage of brotherly torment.

As dinner progressed in that rambunctious fashion, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at how the Hughes clan seemed to speak in an entirely separate language comprised of inside jokes, dramatics, and endless affectionate insults and barbs flung without malice.

She struggled to get a word in edgewise, but found herself thoroughly charmed by the liveliness, the evident closeness, the constant undercurrent of deep love and acceptance.

At one point, Ellen set down her fork with a measured look towards the two brothers. "So...any prospect of grandchildren to spoil rotten any time soon?" She asked with a perfectly arched brow and a sly smile.

Luke barked out a raucous guffaw, slapping his palm on the table. "Are you kidding, Mom? Quinn's still halfway in the closet. My money's on him!"

He missed Jack shaking his head decisively, arm tightening possessively around the back of Y/N's chair as he pulled her subtly closer to his side. "No, no. It's gonna be me for sure," he stated with conviction, bold gaze flickering to catch Y/N's eye. "Quinn's too old and only cares about hockey these days."

Y/N's heart slammed into her throat as the implication settled over her like a weighted blanket. She couldn't tell if the flush burning her cheeks was from mortification or if Jack genuinely meant what she thought he did. Before her mind could spiral any further down that path, she jumped at the opportunity to escape when Ellen began collecting plates.

"Let me help you with those dishes, Ellen," Y/N blurted, likely a touch too loud and enthusiastic as she shot out of her seat.

"Of course, honey," Ellen smiled warmly, stacking plates into Y/N's anxious hands.

Y/N rounded the table hastily, Jack's furrowed brow and worried eyes following her retreat from the dining room. She clutched the dishes tightly, using the porcelain edges to ground herself as she followed Ellen through the swinging door and into the sunny kitchen.

A tense silence fell over the remaining family members before Jim cleared his throat loudly, catching the attention of his two sons. He swirled the ice cubes in his glass contemplatively.

"So..." he began, leaning back in his chair to fix Jack with an inscrutable look. "How long have you two been together?"

Jack's cheeks flushed pink, one hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided his father's steady gaze. "Uh, five months or so," he admitted shyly after a pause. "I'm actually going to ask her to be my girlfriend tonight...officially."

Luke let out a low whistle, clapping Jack firmly on the shoulder with one meaty paw. "About damn time, big bro! We were all starting to wonder if you'd ever settle down with one girl."

From the kitchen, Y/N could hear the muffled sound of Jack's embarrassed groan and the raucous laughter that followed. She gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening as her heart rate kicked up another notch.

Girlfriend. The term sent her head spinning anew. She had assumed their relationship was casual, a fleeting rebound in the wake of Jason's toxicity. But now Jack wanted to make things official...permanent. How could she say yes and move forward when she was keeping something this big from him?

"Everything okay, dear?" Ellen's soft voice cut through the spiral of Y/N's thoughts. The older woman regarded her with a concerned furrow of her brow as she diligently started on the pile of plates.

Y/N managed a jerky nod, willing her features into a placid mask as she reached for the dishtowel to help dry. "Yes, of course! I just...needed a breather from all the family energy out there," she tried to joke.

Ellen hummed knowingly in response. "They can certainly be a handful, that bunch. But they mean well." Her gaze sharpened as she studied Y/N's tense profile. "Jack cares about you an awful lot, you know. We can all see how smitten he is."

The warm weight of Ellen's eyes was too much. Y/N twisted away under the guise of grabbing another dish from the rack, blinking rapidly against the telltale sting of tears threatening to well over.

… After skillfully avoiding any further emotional conversations in the kitchen, Y/N felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine as she and Jack made their way towards the front door to leave. Her stomach twisted with nerves and unspoken truths.

"You'll have to come back again soon," Ellen insisted, enveloping Y/N in one of her warm, motherly hugs. There was an underlying knowing look in her eyes as she squeezed Y/N tight before releasing her.

Jim stepped forward next, pulling Y/N into an embrace and patting her back fondly. "It was wonderful to finally meet the woman who has our Jackie so dugzamped," he said with a wink towards his son.

"Dad!" Jack groaned in feigned exasperation, though his cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment.

Luke saved the most boisterous goodbye for last, sweeping Y/N up in a rib-crushing bear hug that left her feet dangling inches from the floor. "You take care of him, you hear?" He mock-scolded with a roguish grin, mercifully setting her back down before ruffling Jack's hair affectionately.

Jack batted his brother's hands away, straightening his mussed clothing with as much dignity as possible. He looped one arm around Y/N's waist, pulling her into his side reassuringly as they finally made their goodbyes.

The walk back towards Jack's truck seemed to stretch out interminably. Y/N's body felt like it was operating on autopilot as she let Jack guide her with a firm hand at the small of her back. Her mind raced with doubts and fears, rendering her temporarily mute.

It wasn't until they reached the driver's side door and Jack turned to face her, cupping her cheek tenderly, that she finally surfaced from her spiral with a full-body startle.

"Hey," he murmured, brows furrowed with concern. "You ok? You checked out there for a bit."

Y/N stared up at him mutely, her mouth working without any sound coming out. Get it together, she firmly told herself. Taking a steadying breath, she nodded shakily. "Y-Yeah, I'm okay. Just...a lot to process I guess."

Jack's features softened with understanding, replacing his tense expression to a gentle look of empathy. His thumb traced slow, comforting circles on her cheekbone, the roughness of his skin a stark contrast to her soft cheeks.

"Come on," he murmured softly, his voice steady and reassuring, "let's get you home."

…

"I think my mom might like you more than I do," he said with a chuckle, a hint of playful jealousy lacing his words. "She’s made me kinda jealous stealing all your attention. Family dinner will not be happening anytime soon I’ll tell you that much."

"I hope that’s true Jack," she replied softly, eyes reflecting the admiration she felt so deeply for him. "She’s amazing, I wish my mother was like her. She’s genuine and kind, I’m jealous of you." her eyes drifted down to her hands, she winced at the broken skin and bloody cuticles from her abuse. "I feel like everyone our age now has such shitty parents ya know," she muttered.

"Come on don’t say that sun," he urged gently, reaching over to grasp her hands in an attempt to stop her picking at them.

Jack's grip tightened on her hands and he shook his head firmly.

Jack's eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed, the corners of his mouth turning downwards in a serious expression. He looked at her with concern, a hint of sadness in his gaze. "I hate hearing you talk like that."

"I’m serious Jack, really," she insisted, her free hand nervously toying with a loose thread on her dress. "I'm happy you have a good family. They did so well raising you, I can tell."

"You’re making me nervous," Jack admitted with a sheepish grin. "Do you always talk about your boyfriend’s parents like this? We’ll be like that one day,” he mused dreamily, "a few babies, home full of love... I can imagine it now; they look just like you."

"A family?" she repeated back. Y/N's heart pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears. The mere suggestion sent a chill down her spine, her breath catching in her throat. Images of vulnerability and responsibility flooded her mind, each one more terrifying than the last.

"Uh yeah... I’m sorry it just slipped out," he stammered apologetically, the smile falling from his face. "I didn’t mean to be so weird about it... I’m sorry. Just forget I said that whole thing." he pleaded, his eyes darted around nervously, avoiding direct contact with Y/N's as he spoke, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"Actually, no I didn’t,” he interjected suddenly, his eyes searching hers earnestly. “Yeah, your boyfriend... I want to be your boyfriend officially. I really like you and catch myself thinking about you all day; what you’re doing, new places I can take you... I want to be with you as more than friends." He paused before adding softly, "I knew the second I saw you in that coffee shop... I want to be your boyfriend if you’ll have me of course."

“Jack we can’t," she whispered sadly, avoiding his gaze.

"What?" His voice cracked with disbelief.

"Jack… You can’t date me." Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she continued hesitantly, "I really like you too Jack; god you have no idea...” She swallowed hard before confessing, “I wanna be in your skin half the time but it’s just that now's not a good time for me to be involved in that way...” Her hands trembled slightly as she spoke.

“I see what you have, and I don't want to ruin that,” she confessed tearfully. “You have a good healthy family people all around you...” A single tear rolled down her cheek as she added in a barely audible whisper, “I have no one but Heather...There’s no one there for me. If I dated you, I would just feel like I’m dragging you away from all the people who love you so I won’t be alone."

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked away from jack. He searched her face desperately, hurt and confusion writ large across his features.

"And all of that makes you not want to be with me?" he asked hoarsely. "You don't wanna be with me?" Jack swallowed hard, gaze boring into hers intensely. "Was it tonight? That made you realize that? Did I make you uncomfortable?"

He scrubbed a hand over his face roughly. "I won't ever talk about kids again if that made you upset," Jack rambled, words tumbling out in a rush. "I just...we've been so happy. I was lost in thought and couldn't stop talking."

Y/N shook her head vehemently. "No, you didn't do any of that, Jack," she insisted, reaching out to clutch his arm. "I'm happy you feel that way, so fucking happy you even see a future with me."

Jack visibly deflated with relief at her reassurance, only for the tension to reset his shoulders as conflict flickered across his expression. "Then what is it?" he demanded, the hurt leaking into his tone now.

"How come you don't want to be with me? I assumed we were getting serious. You just met my family. I've been with you for five months and I've never felt like this for anyone in my life." His voice cracked with raw emotion. "No one has ever made me feel so loved or appreciated the way you do."

Tears spilled over Y/N's cheeks in shining rivulets. "I wish I could be honest with you," she choked out in a whisper. "Tell you the reason why I can't. But you'll just hate me for it."

Jack's features contorted in an anguished wince, and he surged forward to frame her face in his calloused palms. "Don't think so little of me," he pleaded gruffly. "I feel like I'm saying all the wrong things. Was it too soon to tell you how I feel about us?" Jack's eyes shimmered as he searched hers beseechingly. "Please. Just...what do I do now?"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut against the swell of regret and pain lancing through her chest. With tremendous effort, she extricated herself from Jack's grip, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Jack," she rasped, backing away from him. "I really am, but I think I should go."

A stricken noise punched out of Jack at that, his hand reaching out as if to physically stop her retreat. "Please don't leave me like this," he begged, voice thick with unshed tears. "I don't know how to be without you. I don't wanna learn how to do that right now. I want you with me. Please."

The anguish etched into every line of his expression was like a vise around Y/N's heart. She longed to close the distance, to soothe away the hurt she caused with her touch, her words. But she couldn't. Not when she was such a mess of half-truths and lies.

"You deserve so much better than what I can give you, Jack," she forced out, barely choking back a sob as she turned away, unable to look at him any longer. "You're such a great guy, I don't deserve you. You're too good. The next girl you find will be so much better than I could ever be, and I hope you see that eventually."

Y/N swallowed hard, mustering the last of her tattered composure. "Good night, Jack."

...

Tag List <3

@fearfam69691 , @alwaysclassyeagle , @rebelatbay , @dancerbailey3 , @skepvids , @flowers-for-em , @hischierswhore , @ivy-34 , @bunbunbl0gs , @snailss , @ru-kru , @shawnshoney

[estellan0vella]

Sweetly Imperfect ❀Toge Inumaki Masterlist

The kitchen is filled with the warm, inviting smell of vanilla and melted chocolate. The sun streams through the window, casting a golden glow over the counter where you and Toge are gathered.

Ingredients are spread out: flour, sugar, butter, eggs, and, of course, a generous amount of chocolate chips. You both wear matching aprons, a spontaneous purchase from your last shopping trip, and it adds a playful touch to the whole experience.

"Shake," Toge says, pointing at the bag of flour. You nod, understanding that he wants you to grab it.

“Got it!” you say cheerfully, handing him the flour. He smiles and nods appreciatively, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you love.

Together, you start measuring out the ingredients. You read the recipe out loud, making sure everything is correct. Toge measures the flour, his focus intense as he levels it off perfectly. You handle the sugar, pouring it into a bowl with a bit of flair.

"Shake," he repeats, this time pointing to the butter. You unwrap it and place it in a mixing bowl, ready to be creamed with the sugar. Toge takes the wooden spoon and begins to mix, his movements steady and precise.

You watch him for a moment, admiring the concentration on his face. His silver hair falls slightly into his eyes, and you have to resist the urge to reach out and brush it away. Instead, you grab the eggs and crack them into a separate bowl, making sure to avoid any shells.

"Salmon," Toge says, indicating that you should add the eggs to the mixture. You do so, and he continues to stir, the ingredients slowly coming together into a smooth, creamy batter.

Everything seems to be going perfectly. You add the flour mixture to the bowl, and Toge switches to a spatula, folding it in gently. The batter thickens, and you can almost taste the delicious cookies already.

"Shake," Toge says again, this time with a hint of excitement in his eyes. He holds up the bag of chocolate chips, and you laugh, knowing how much he loves them. You pour a generous amount into the bowl, and Toge mixes them in with a satisfied nod.

You preheat the oven, and soon the kitchen is filled with the comforting hum of the appliance. You scoop out portions of the dough onto a baking sheet, spacing them evenly. Toge watches closely, his gaze sharp and attentive.

Just as you’re about to place the sheet in the oven, you notice something off. The dough looks a bit too runny, almost like it’s melting. You frown, wondering if you missed a step.

“Toge, do you think this looks right?” you ask, showing him the dough. He tilts his head, considering it for a moment before shaking it.

"Konbu," he says, indicating that maybe something is missing or wrong. You both go over the recipe again, double-checking everything. That’s when you realize you forgot to add the baking soda.

“Oh no, we missed the baking soda!” you exclaim, feeling a bit embarrassed. Toge just chuckles, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

You quickly mix in the baking soda, but the dough is still a bit off. Determined not to let it ruin your fun, you decide to bake them anyway, hoping for the best.

The cookies go into the oven, and you set a timer. As you wait, you and Toge clean up the kitchen, working side by side in comfortable silence. Occasionally, he bumps his shoulder against yours, a playful gesture that makes you smile.

When the timer goes off, you open the oven, expecting to see perfectly golden cookies. Instead, you’re greeted with a tray of flat, overly spread cookies that have merged into one another. They look more like a cookie pancake than individual treats.

You burst out laughing at the sight, and Toge joins in, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Despite the mishap, it’s hard to be upset. The kitchen is filled with the scent of warm cookies, and the sound of your shared laughter makes everything better.

“Well, they might not look perfect, but I bet they still taste good,” you say, grabbing a spatula to cut the giant cookie into pieces. Toge nods in agreement, already reaching for a piece.

The cookies might not be what you intended, but they’re delicious nonetheless. The chocolate chips are gooey and melty, and the edges have a nice crispness to them. You and Toge sit at the kitchen table, enjoying your unconventional treat.

“Thanks for baking with me, Toge. Even if it didn’t go perfectly, I had a lot of fun,” you say, nudging him playfully.

"Mustard leaf," he responds, his way of saying he had fun too. He reaches out and gently squeezes your hand, a warm gesture that makes your heart flutter.

As you sit there, sharing cookies and laughter, you realize that it’s not about the end result. It’s about the time spent together, the shared moments of joy and even the small mistakes along the way. Baking with Toge is an adventure, but it’s one you wouldn’t trade for anything.

The next time you bake, you know you’ll double-check the recipe. But for now, you’re content to enjoy the sweetly imperfect moments with Toge by your side.

[kozachenko]

[Click image for better quality]

I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING MAKE THE IMAGE SMALLER FOR POSTING ON TUMBLR WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ACTUAL QUALITY OF THE IMAGE OH MY GOD

Ok so, what I did is go into the clip studio paint file, make a new file, copy and paste the group in the original file, merge everything, get rid of the extra stuff outside of the canvas, and then make the flattened image smaller and crop the canvas. Once you have that, export it and you're done. This helps maintain the actual quality of the image and also helps shrink the file size down to something actually postable (if anyone has a better way of doing this please tell me)

[Edit]: Ok I guess posting something to Tumblr just naturally compresses the image a bit more somehow because I'm looking at it now and zooming in too much makes it a bit blurry so I'm still gonna have to futz around with image quality for future pieces oof

Artist's Note:

I'm so glad I figured out a way to do this because I like working on a big canvas so I can get as much detail in as I possibly can. Only problems are how laggy it gets while drawing lol.

I had an idea for a drawing with Reimu and Zanmu because I really like thinking about their potential dynamic a lot. I also wanted an excuse to draw Zanmu again but in my normal rendering style because last time I drew her she was in my more sketchy style with generally flat colours so I wanted to draw her again. Speaking of, looking at the sketch for this is a jumpscare that I never enjoy seeing, like, man am I glad I didn't use those for my final piece.

Also about her spear. I was originally gonna make it like the ones she had in game, but it kinda threw off the whole piece. It was too big, too blue, and too flat, so I just went "fuck it" and gave her a different one instead. My headcanon justifying this is that the ones she uses in game are for danmaku battles whereas in any other fight she just uses a proper yari, or she still uses the yari and just makes it all glowy to power it up, maybe both lol. I pulled as much inspiration as I could from Sengoku era spears, and even put in some blue into the decorative part of the spear and also added a little skull to pay tribute to the original spear. Also, in my research I saw some art of izanami and izanagi making japan and saw that the yari izanagi has had a little decorative tassley thingy on it so I took some inspo from that and just made it one of Zanmu's tassles (Idk when that art was from or if the spear was still accurate to Sengoku period Japan but hey, probably the same reasons Eirin puts little bow ties on her arrows, it's just for personalization purposes).

I love rendering hair and clothes so much omg, while I like the super curly hair Zanmu, the longer, wavier hair suits her better for this drawing (I imagine it only does that like how Ghibli characters hair moves when they feel angry lol). I love making Zanmu's hair all messy and crazy, as well as giving her grey hairs, this woman has aged like a fine wine. Also, if the hem on the ends of her sleeves, top of her shirt, and her pants look like gold to you, that's because it is! It's fairly light so she's not collapsing under the weight, but it's gold! (I don't care how impractical it is, it's just cool). Not the undershirt though, it's made of a gold fabric. I had a cute idea with Reimu's hair to make it have a red shine to it. I also changed up Reimu's outfit so it isn't just a blob of red. I like it a lot when Reimu's skirt and outfit is segmented into different layers, so I wanted to incorporate that.

I tried to draw their hands differently as well, but IDK how noticeable that is. Also, I am super happy with how the side profiles for the two of them turned out, I used to struggle a lot with how to make the side profile of a character actually look like the character, so I'm really happy that they actually look like themselves.

Also added in the tree and rocks in the background as an homage to Zanmu's character art in Touhou 19, just because I was getting kinda stumped on what to do with the background lol.

In terms of a story idea with Reimu and Zanmu, idk why but the potential plotline of Zanmu wanting to ascend to godhood is so fascinating to me. Like, it is very possible that if she just convinced everyone she was a god (which would be very easy for her to do), she would become one in a heartbeat. Also, if she were to become a god, with her ability to return stuff to nothing, could she hypothetically get similar abilities to (Jojo Part 5 spoiler btw) GER? Like, idk about the death timeloop stuff, but the concept has been haunting me every night as I have been trying to find loopholes in GER's ability for a while now ( for no reason in particular). Back to the main topic, I imagine that she would probably tell Reimu that if she were to become a god she would take over the Hakurei shrine since the god there might as well be dead, and Reimu just says to her, "Over my dead body bitch." Like, I have no idea how to summarize their dynamic but like, it's the type of hero-villain dynamic where the phrase "We're not so different, you and I" would definitely be a phrase said during a fight. I think that if another IN style game were to release, Reimu and Zanmu would be in a team together. They could also have an interesting mentor and pupil kind of dynamic. Can you tell that Zanmu has been charging my mind rent these part few months? Like, instead of living in my head rent free, she kinda just uno reversed the whole situation and now she's the one charging me rent. What happens if I get evicted from my own brain? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I wanna know.

[octuscle]

Teens work out free all Summer

Jakob was done. The day had been exhausting. And somehow he couldn't cope with two or three exhausting days in a row as well as he used to. He was now 27 years old, his 28th birthday was only a few weeks away and the days when Jakob had been described as sporty were long gone. Even during his studies, he had spent less time at the gym or in the swimming pool than when he was at school and the slight tummy bulge with which he had accepted his master's degree and started his career had developed into a veritable paunch. Climbing stairs? Only in an emergency… Walking or cycling? What were cabs for… Jakob was done and he knew why.

It was trade fair in the city. The last one before the summer break. The hotels were full, you couldn't get a table in the restaurants and there were no cabs to be had either. So Jacob bit the bullet and walked to the nearest bus stop. Sweat was pouring down his forehead. And there he saw this sign: “Teens Workout Free All Summer”. Sure, he was no longer a teen. But he also earned enough money to afford a gym. All he had to do was sign up. Just for the summer. Since he didn't have any school-age children, he didn't have his vacation until mid-September. What was the worst that could happen? He could lose a few kilos and cut a better figure in the late summer sun on the Croatian coast. “I'll sign up first thing tomorrow,” Jacob thought to himself. And then it hit him. "Shit, don't keep putting it off, I'll sign up now. Now and immediately. And if they have a store for gym gear, I'll start training today."

It was hot in the gym. The place was obviously not air-conditioned. It smelled of sweat and sneakers. It smelled like the changing rooms in the schools gym earlier. Loud music blared from the speakers. The reception and training area merged seamlessly. The monotonous sound of people on treadmills and the groaning of people lifting iron was mixed into the booming music, occasionally interrupted by the sound of dumbbells falling into the rack or onto the floor. This was certainly not the kind of gym Jacob wanted to work out in. He was almost on his way out again when the lad behind the counter approached him. “Hi bro! Are you here for our summer offer?” Jacob said that he was here for a membership, yes. But not for the offer. ‘Why not, bro? My name is Liam, by the way. And you are?’ ‘Jacob,’ Jacob introduced himself. ‘Cool thing, bro! Don't worry, we'll get you in shape here.’ Jacob thought for a moment. Of course he would make a fool of himself here among all the beefcakes, but better here in front of people he didn't know than in some stylish gym where customers, colleagues or neighbors would make fun of him.

Liam was already hammering away at his keyboard. “So, your name is Jake. What's next?” “Jacob,” Jacob corrected. “Goldsmith” “Smith, Jake Smith. Your birthday?” Jacob wanted to correct Liam first, but maybe a pseudonym wasn't wrong. “August 12, 1996.” “Bro, I'll put in August 12, 2006,” Liam said with a wink. “Nobody checks here anyway. And I get a commission when I sign contracts for the summer offer.” Address? Jacob was just about to give his address when he thought to himself that he was here anonymously or under a pseudonym. So he gave the address of his parents' house, where they had all lived when he was at school. His parents had sold everything last year and moved to Provence, but as Liam said, no one would probably check it. “Please be so kind,” said Liam. Jacob looked surprised at a flash of light. And a few seconds later, a plastic card came out of the printer. His membership card, his ticket back to a life where climbing stairs wouldn't lead to panting and sweating. “Because it's your birthday in the summer, you get a water bottle and the water flat rate. Do you also want the protein shake flat rate? It's on special offer today. 20 pounds a month, 50 pounds for June, July and August together.” Jacob nodded and asked if he could also buy something to wear here. “That's my lad,” said Liam with a grin. “Get started right away, no hesitation, very good. No, you can't buy anything, but there's a treasure trove at the back. Just take what you need. I'll let Colin know in the meantime, he can show you around and show you everything.

Slightly disgusted, Jacob went to the corner with the lost-and-found treasure trove. It was obviously a source of odour. But it was surprisingly neat. Shoes, shorts, tank tops… Everything was neatly sorted by size. Only the socks were in a big box. It took Jacob a few minutes to find a pair. And while he was looking, he heard a throat clearing behind him. “So you're Jake, the new guy?” Jacob turned around, startled. Behind him stood a mountain of a man. Probably his age. Maybe a few years older. But someone who had never skipped chest or leg days. Never in his life. He obviously didn't take his personal hygiene that seriously. Colin was smelly. Jacob pulled himself together. “Jake, nice to meet you. You must be Colin.” “You can be sure of that! And now stop making a fashion show out of it.” Colin unerringly grabbed a tank top, shorts, shoes and even a matching pair of socks. And a jockstrap. He stuffed everything into a rucksack. Jacob shuddered. “The changing room is over there. Don't look for girls and boys, it's a lads only place here. Hurry up, we should allow two and a half hours for a training session." Jacob was beginning to feel sure he had made a mistake. Okay, at worst he had lost 50 pounds… But it was a mistake.

There were no cubicles in the changing room, no lockers. Things went on open racks. Shoes and bags on benches or on the floor. There was no one around. Only by the sinks was a lad, maybe 16 years old, showing off his enviably fit body in front of the mirror. Jacob sighed. He'd looked something like that when he was 16. He undressed and put on the unwashed clothes that Colin had stuffed into his bag. He looked in the mirror. He looked silly. He was wearing the washed-out clothes of an obviously much more muscular man… The shorts were too tight. The tank top too loose. The socks had holes in them. But at least the shoes fitted. Jacob sighed. And the torture on the dumbbells began.

Colin hadn't given him puppy protection. Colin had worked out with him as if they were training partners. Of course, he had reduced the weights for Jacob. But when Jacob couldn't do any more, he had shouted at him. Four more, three more, two more… Somehow Jacob had always managed the last repetition. The two of them were the last ones in the gym. Liam had already called it a day. Colin gave Jacob a fist bump. “Good training, mate! You've got bite and talent. You'll be something!“ Jacob would have blushed if his head hadn't been glowing anyway. ‘By the way,’ said Colin. ‘Hot water is turned off after 10 p.m. You can take a cold shower. Or…’ ‘I'll take the ’or',” Jacob chastised and grinned. He went into the changing room and packed his clothes from the office into his rucksack. He walked to the bus stop with the last of his strength. The city was full of fairgoers. Some raised their eyebrows in pique. Yes, he had to stink. But he had to get home now. He didn't care about anything else.

When the alarm clock woke him up at 06:00, he felt like everything was gone. He had fallen asleep sitting on his bed. He had just managed to undress. His office clothes were still in his rucksack. His sports kit was scattered on the floor. And he had slept half-sitting, half-asleep on his bed. In a puddle of sperm. Because he had obviously had at least one wet dream. And his morning wood was already standing at attention again. Jacob started to jerk himself off. Damn, did his cock feel good. Jacob smelled his own cold sweat. He smelled male. And he had a hard-on. He had smegma under his foreskin. Just like when he wasn't so serious about personal hygiene at school. He smelled his hand. Damn, that smelled like youth and manhood… And at that moment he came. He cummed all the way up to his chin, even though he had obviously emptied his balls at least once tonight. Shit, he thought to himself, breathing heavily… The training is paying off. As exhausted as I am, I'm more agile than I've been at any point in the last ten years.

Jacob went into the kitchen and stirred protein powder into his cottage cheese. He didn't question where the protein powder and cottage cheese came from. He drank two bottles of water because he felt completely dehydrated. He wolfed down his breakfast and made himself five more scrambled eggs. And another protein shake. Shit, he was starving. And late. He jumped into the shower. He didn't take a really thorough shower. He didn't shave either. He emptied out his rucksack on the floor and stuffed yesterday's clothes, which were still damp with sweat, into it. His bus was leaving in ten minutes. He had to walk. Cardio was never his thing. He was more of a weightlifting man.

He got lots of compliments in the office. He was told he looked fresh. He was told he'd lost weight. He looked younger. But he also got a few unpleasant questions. What was so smelly here. The old rucksack was standing next to his desk. And it stank. Jacob simply ignored the questions about the rucksack. He felt fit and full of energy. For lunch, he had a salad with three turkey breasts. His colleagues looked at him questioningly. “Mass phase,” he said apologetically, chewing with his mouth full.

Today was leg day. Colin had told him that he should allow three hours for warming up, stretching and maybe a bit of fitness training if he was serious. And Jacob was serious. He finished his work very punctually. Unusual for someone who was always the last one. Yes, he was on the verge of promotion, but his fitness was important to him. As soon as he entered, he pulled the access card out of his wallet. He looked at the photo with a grin. He was 23 on it, that was two years ago. What a slim man he had been then… Liam greeted him with a fist bump. Colin could be heard grunting from the chest press throughout the hall. Jacob greeted his bros as he entered the changing room. It was busy. Of course, most of the people here were still at university, unemployed or tradesmen who had already started work at 06:00 in the morning. There were few armchair farters like him here. But that didn't matter to him. Today, all that mattered was the weight on the leg press. And how much protein he could swallow from his flat rate. Protein and the leg press was a toxic combination. But protein farts didn't bother anyone here. They were part of the workout. And when he finally left the gym with Colin at around 11 p.m., there were a lot of protein farts in the air. Neither Colin nor Jacob had been bothered by that during the final cardio workout. Damn it, how could a beefcake like Colin be so limber!

His morning routine was well established. Alarm clock at 05:30. Sit-ups and press-ups. Breakfast, running gear on, run to the office, shower there, and be at his desk by 08:00. Sitting was the new smoking, he hated it. Jake was 22, he had just finished his bachelor's degree and as a trainee he couldn't afford to make any mistakes. His colleagues knew after a few days that he was a fitness junkie. The carefully labeled Tupperware containers spoke for themselves. Jake had to eat something every two hours. His trainer had told him to. Jake had been an ambitious bodybuilder since the age of 16. His tight ass and broad shoulders showed this even when he was wearing a suit. And many of his female colleagues and even some of his male colleagues appreciated the fact that Jake always wore tight and crisp-fitting suits.

This afternoon was going to be an ordeal for Jake. He had promised Liam that he would take over the shift from 21:00. If he wanted to work out properly before then, he had to get off work at 5:00 p.m., 5:30 p.m. at the latest. The meeting went on and on. Jake looked nervously at his mobile again and again. At 5:15 p.m., over an hour later than planned, it was finally over. Jake breathed a sigh of relief. And then his boss asked Jake and two colleagues to stay for the minutes and the upcoming tasks. FUCK! He should have accepted Colin's offer and taken over the management of the gym after graduation. But his tutor at university had convinced him that auditing was his future. Holy shit. Now he'd have to skip cardio training.

05:30. Damn, that was early. But Paul, his roommate, was obviously already awake and seemed to be making breakfast in the kitchen. Yes, Jake was actually disciplined. Otherwise you didn't stand a chance when studying at the sports college. But at least sleep until 06:00 for once, he thought to himself… While he did his burpees to wake up. Paul was Liam's little brother. The two had met at the gym last summer. And Liam and Paul had convinced Jake to study sports economics. He had never regretted his decision. If only because sharing a flat with Paul was a cool thing. The two of them constantly motivated each other. And they also fucked each other from time to time. Hey, tighter asses were hard to find on the whole campus! Today was mostly sports on the timetable. Just one statistics lecture. It wasn't worth changing for that. Jake enjoyed riding his road bike to campus in just shorts and a cut-off tank top. And if the clothes weren't freshly washed, they were at least aired out by the breeze. Of course, the business students sitting in the statistics lecture would get upset about the smelly sports economists again. But hey, Jake already knew the game. It wouldn't be the first time one of these Oxford-shirt-wearing snobs would follow him to the toilet after the lecture and lick his hairy armpits. And it wouldn't be the first time he'd take someone home for a shag or join the gym as a new member. The first was fun, the second earned him a small commission.

“Jake, my darling! It's time to get up!” His mother looked into Jake's teenage room. His bed had already been made. Jake stood behind his mother in sweaty running clothes and quietly went “Boo!” His mother winced. Jake deliberately hugged her tightly so that his sweat made her nightgown damp. “Honey, when did you get up? It's the middle of the night!” Jake replied that he still had body fat to lose before his first amateur competition this weekend. He pulled off his wet running jersey and did a double bicep pose. “Jake, more important than losing body fat would be a shower.” his mother laughed. “Fuck, mom, I'm late. And by the time I've ridden my bike to school, I'll be sweaty again anyway.” “Don't talk back, otherwise there'll be no breakfast.” The threat worked. Jake reluctantly trotted into the shower and his mother prepared his ten-egg omelette.

A poster announcing the national bodybuilding championship hung above the reception desk. With local hero Jake Smith as the favorite in the juniors. You could find those posters everywhere in the neighbourhood. Jake was somehow a local hero. Liam greeted the studio's up-and-coming star with a fist bump. Male rituals. Jake enjoyed that. He wasn't turning 18 for a few days, but here he felt like a full-fledged man. Liam said that ten new members had signed up to the teen-working-out-for-free-in-the-summer promotion last week alone. And eight said they had come to the gym because of Jake's fitness channel. Jake should get in touch with Colin and there would be a special bonus. Hehehe, thought Jake. That could be an extra 50 pounds. Or a shot of extra protein from Colin's cock. With a bit of luck, both. But Jake wasn't greedy. Either would be enough for him.

Inspiration by @olivierlefou, pic by @ki-kink

[genericpuff]

Hey, so I really love Lore Rekindled, and the art is one of my favorite parts! The style, the coloring, the background, all of it is just so… smooth! I don’t really know how to describe it. Recently, I’ve been trying to replicate it, and I was hoping you would give me a few pointers. What brushes do you use for line art? How do you decided what to line, and what to leave blank? What about coloring brushes? Do you use smudge brushes? Whats, like, the step by step process? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to! But any tips or answers would be great!

Ah thanks so much!!!

Here are the brushes! They're .abr brushes, so they should work in Photoshop, Clip Studio and Procreate :) (they don't work in Krita or other software that utilizes PNG brushes though, sorry ; ; )

There's also a tutorial included with that file that breaks down my process layer by layer! That said, there are a couple things that have changed in my process since doing that tutorial:

I mostly use the Hard Square Pastel brush now for all of that 'crispy' lighting that often happens along the edges of characters' shoulders and heads, such as seen here:

I now do an extra step of applying a 'blur' layer, where I essentially merge all the layers into a new layer on top of everything, set it to Overlay, and then Gaussian Blur by about 60%. This is how I get that 'dreamy' look that's been present in a lot of the more recent episodes!

It's subtle, but really effective in making the glow effects and deeper colors really pop!

As for the more nuanced stuff like lineart, it's kinda just something I do by feel! Sometimes I'll shade something in and realize the lineart doesn't need to be there, so then I'll go in and erase, other times I have to be a bit more excessive with it esp if two similar colors are up against each other. I'm actually trying to use less lineart going forward to get more of that authentic LO look but it's hard, I'm very used to doing lineart-heavy drawings so it's forcing me to draw in a way that I'm not used to! 😆 I usually always start with flat colors first though, meaning I start by 'shaping' out the character poses and then lining them in afterwards!

You can see an example of this process in my END OF PERSEPHONE time lapse here:

I also usually stream work sessions of Rekindled over on my Twitch, but I'm currently on hiatus from streaming due to technical difficulties (OBS just... decided it was gonna stop working, sigh). Go give it a follow anyways tho so you can be notified when I start streaming again! I'm thinking in the meantime until I can get my Twitch going again I might start doing some screen sharing sessions in Discord. So keep your eyes peeled for that if you ever wanna catch me working! I'm always happy to talk about and demystify the process <3

[saewokhrisz]

have u ever talked anywhere about your coloring or composition processes? u are honestly one of my favorite artists and i would love to hear any insight on how you make pieces 💓

wahh thank you TTT !!! I did sorta give a very simplistic answer here but it was more of my simpler sketchy style so lemme redo that, ill try to be consise and make this understandable ?? its a bit hard cuz it honest to god depends on what Kind of piece im even drawing, cuz for some i go the whole length of doing lineart flats and all that, others i just just fuck around untill it looks right?

i do usually start with a rough sketch or colour draft, especially with more compley pieces this helps with figuring out the feel, honestly i should spend more time drafting properly, figuring out poses and such but im so lazy i just go w the first thing that looks good

then just lines over the colour draft, fixing lots of anatomy and proportion stuff, and depending on how i wanna do the colours ill either keep the colour layers or merge them together and have the edited colours as the base colour (this might not even make sense help)

see this piece at the time gave me an insane ammount of trouble with lighting and colours, so after trying to render i ended up merging everything together....which i dont USUALLY do but the rendering is pretty similar except usually i have colours be seperated by layer,

ANYWAYS sadly i dont have a process on how it got from flats to this specific render for this piece...but i still followed my initial drafts/plans with vibe and colours and just painted over it, its why i make it after all!

but honestly a lot of times its just very simple colours and just trying to mainting good contrast and values !!!! and THEN fucking around with colours and rextures, for other pieces i kinda just paint as i go? i have this timelapse of my justice piece that may be a bit more help!

it includes the initial colour draft, the cleanup/lining process, flats, rendering, and all that so its probs the most accurate timelapse of my morecomplex work processes, with stuff that doesnt include heavier backgrounds, which is a whole OTHER topic honestly

im sorry if i cant explain it more cohesively, i genuinely barely know what im doing most times and go by muscle memory and stuff i Know but cant. Explain? like i know how light and folds work since i observed and studied them but i cannot put it into words at all )--)0

my brushes also contribute a lot to how i render and colour, depending on what i use, you can find the swatches for them here !

[iamhereinthebg]

Hello! I hope you have a nice day, I love your art a lot and I wanted to know if you have maybe anything about your process to do you drawings?

Heya! I am having a good day ty :DD I hope you are too^^ and thanks this is really nice dshgjds TvT

I will be really honest but I don't have a lot of time to draw in general so my process is more 'this is between cosmic entities, the 30minutes I have and me, I draw whatever the fck happens in my head' rather than having really complex steps :'))

I have some speedpaints! (I record them a lot it helps me for some details)

I think this one is the most representative of how I work

I doodle a lot of stuff on the same file and I often go to one drawing to another because I can't draw more than 30min/1hour on a drawing most of the time ://

When doing bigger illustrations I do sometimes just really quick doodles to have the idea, doodle or some notes on my phone notepad (and I wrote a lot on it too, here is a chaotic example of a stuff I never finished that makes me laugh so hard)

I don't do lineart too, and mostly just 'clean' my sketches/doodles, and I do a sketch for colors too (to test stuff) before doing the 'clean colors' on bigger pieces.

I use one layer for the sketch, one for the basic background and one layer for the colors, then merge everything to paint over it. (I use some effects on layers for colors then merge them)

Here is the layers on my last sketch (I am happy I saved the steps ahah)

the sketch

the colors

and the merged one where I painted a lil bit over

I have a really doodling/sketchy style (and no time) so it works for me but tbh it really depends on what you want for your artstyle too. If you like flat colors I think colored lines look better than just sketch but this is my preference ^^

Idk if this is what you mean but I hope it helps ^^ thank you for your ask!

[bamsara]

Oooo, for the dialogue prompts "you should have thought about that before you got into a fight" and "I only wanted to help"

I love your works! Your art looks like itd taste like sour patch kids, v nice!! ^^

Sun (Mostly) Centric | Wordcount: 1,147 | AO3 Version

The world has not yet adjusted to the flood of robots merging with day-to-day society.

At least, not in the form they had taken prior. To say that there was some backlash was undercutting it; using arguments of humanity vs machine to its core, despite the clarity that those walking alongside them weren't just AI made to mimic human traits and personality, but sentient beings that develop their own. There's a difference between a chatbot app and your next-door neighbor who just so happens to be made out of metal.

Still, there is progress as much as there are incidents. A recent ruling states that all robots don't need to look human in order to receive the same amount of respect and rights (which is fantastic for all of Fazbear's line up of robots, considering they were animals in nature and all, in all franchises and pizza plexes across the country) but there were...incidents too, some of them making the news.

So when you're out doing some quick shopping for groceries one day and a stranger with a taut face and a sour attitude starts heckling Sun, and that heckling turns to harassment, and thus turns into him reaching for the back of the animatronic's head and pulling at the vulnerable wires there, you clock him.

Hard, actually. Your knuckles hurt like a bitch, but you don't have time to shake the feeling out from your hand because the guy sends one right back and oh, there you go, tumbling in the isle and knocking baking soda and sugar and other cake ingredients off the shelf as the two of you yell profanities and arguments while Sun has a metaphorical loading symbol over his head while he processes the last five seconds.

Now you're both banned from that store. The other guy is too, thankfully. Still sucks though. You didn't get to check out the ingredients for the cake.

"You're a real mess." Sun scolds you, dipping the rag back into the warm water, and bringing it back up to your face. He dabs at the dried blood under your eye, careful not to rub too harshly so as to not irritate the darkening skin beneath it. "Honestly. That could have gone so much worse-"

"Like pulling wires out of your head?" You interrupt. You're not too keen about the bathroom being turned into a lecture hall, and the lid of the toilet seat being your 'time-out' spot as he tends to you. "Yeah, sure. I'll just let the stranger rip out what is essentially your brain cords out of your flat skull and be fine with it."

Sun shoots you a look. The default smile is strained.

"What?" You hiss in the silent pause, and not because of the sting of your eye. "All I'm saying is that this-" A point to your face, "-is preferable than the other outcome."

"Our wires are welded in with steel, so I highly doubt a human could rip them out without some sort of power tool." Sun tuts. "You remember Parts n Service."

He had a point. The machine in Parts n Service did weld his arm back into place at the time, and all the other repairs since then didn't go without some sort of heat tool to make sure everything was properly molded in place. Still, you frown. "It's still fucked up that he did that, though."

"Language."

"We didn't even get the cake mix." A light dab on the eye, you bite your tongue as Sun clears the last of the dried blood from the area. "Shouldn't have banned us. Now we have to go across town to get groceries."

Sun pulls back the rag, stained pink and light brown with old blood, dropping it in the sink to be washed later. "You should have thought about that before getting into a fight."

"I was only trying to help!" You defend, continuing as Sun pulls out the disinfectant in a rather knowing manner. The cut underneath your eye from the guy's ring was about to sting like hell. "And it's not like I was the one who started it!"

He pours a dab of alcohol onto a cotton ball retrieved from the first aid kit, a small puff of white in between large silocone fingers, it's almost comical how he pinches it into place before crouching back down, the cotton ball hovering over your face. "Hush. This is going to sting."

Your mouth thins at the underlying tone of Moon's voice in his scolding, leaning away from the offending ball. "You're such a hypocrite."

A hand comes underneath your chin to hold you in place, thumb pressed into your jawline. "Stop whining."

"How would you feel, huh?" You wrinkle your nose as the disinfectant ball comes closer. "What would you do if someone attacked me like that?"

The cotton ball presses against the cut and you flinch, hard enough that your shoulders hike up and your neck tenses. It stings like hell, searing for a moment before dulling to an aching throb, a hiss in the back of your dry throat.

The Daycare Attendant's thumb keeps in place for a second, then pulls it away, expression unreadable. "The same thing we did the last time someone tried."

You grit your teeth, pressing your lips into a thin line as the stinging starts to fade.

"Though," He continues, pulling the cotton ball away and tossing it into the trash. "While your help is appreciated, It would be very much appreciated if we were to avoid something like that in the future!" He waves his hands, the bright smile returning, and Sun's fingers go behind your ear, pulling back out a colorful bandage. "I think it goes without saying that it makes me very sad to see you all hurt. Not fun at all!"

You blow hot air out of your nose in a huff as he applies the sticky bandage. "Hypocrite."

"There you are! Right as rain, dandy and peachy." Sun pulls back to observe his handiwork, and there's a slight pause. "Well, not quite. You've still got a bit of a shiner. I don't think I have a medicine for that one."

"It makes me look cool." You jest. "I look badass."

The animatronic sighs, heavy and loaded for a robot with no lungs, though his exasperation is evident in his voicebox. "Pulling my wires, our wires, please, you're constantly on them-" He's mumbling, quickly. Still talking even as he cradles your head gently by your jawline, and presses his faceplate to the skin above the black eye. "Afraid that's all I can give."

You wrinkle your nose, smiling. "I think a cake would be great too."

"Thanks to someone-" He starts, rising from a crouched position and taking your hand to help you stand. "It looks like we'll be ordering one from the bakery instead."

[inkyvendingmachine]

Avedone With All of This Season 4, Episode 4

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 Call of Cthulhu Season Four Masterpost (Coming Soon)

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of  a Call of Cthulhu scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

GUESS WHO FINALLY SHOWED UP!!! and also a lot of other stuff happened. I'm sorry, this one is very long because I didn't take notes, and struggle to leave out details when I'm writing from the records instead of the notes.

Art Credit: @inkdemonapologist : sketching + inking @inkyvendingmachine : concept + colouring

Somehow Jack’s car, with all its original passengers and no extras, manage to make it back to the studio. Joey immediately rushes into the studio, to go rant at Bendy about everything that happened… and possibly to go fuse with Bendy because he feels utterly helpless now after completely draining himself with panicked magic. 

But it’s probably just the first one.

Sammy and Henry arrive as well to find Jack and Peter quietly picking glass out of his broken car in something like shock. Upon getting no responses from Jack about what happened, Sammy storms off to find Joey.

Joey is all too happy to start his entire rant over again for Sammy as he works on fusing with Bendy. They were just following Peter’s leads and driving from location to location and then all of the sudden this ASSHOLE shows up out of nowhere and just stands in front of the car. Busts the car, terrifies poor Jack, and then on top of that tries to break INTO the car and abduct Peter?? It’s a good thing Joey managed to blast him out, but they weren’t even DOING ANYTHING that would have possibly summoned him NOTHING AT ALL... And on top of all that, being an absolute PRICK as he’s doing it! 

… Anyways, how was the moooob?

Sammy updates Joey on everything that happened with Johnny Nero, which is pretty much just that he had seen the Yellow sign, that Henry removed it, and that Nero was pretty intent on getting his hands on whatever the Phantom wants first. Which like… yeah, if you wanna solve all our problems and fix this mess, go ahead! But Joey’s pretty sure that’s not going to happen, so he goes back to working on his ritual.

Sammy leaves to go back to Jack, and right as Joey feels ready to start the ritual his phone rings. The special one. And it’s… Avedon??

Avedon immediately starts info dumping on Joey about everything that’s been going on already… like, all the information Joey already knows. A lot of flat “yeah?”s in reply as Avedon rambles on, until he mentions that it’s already gotten to Norman. Wait, what?? But Avedon doesn’t stop, telling Joey to meet him at his hotel room in NYC so they can go over more information. Before Joey manages to get any clarification, he hangs up. 

That’s Joey’s thing!!!

Joey is the one who hangs up on others!!!!!!!

Frustrated, Joey does try to call Norman, and… Yeah, Norman is talking in weird riddles and speech that doesn’t fit with the Normal Norman Vibes. That call is also ended with little information gained… but at least it DOES seem like Avedon knows what he’s talking about this time, so Joey’s willing to meet with him, even though he’s also feeling done with him already.

Joey finishes the ritual and merges with Bendy.

On his way downstairs, Sammy is still turning over the car event he just heard about… and the increasing evidence that Peter might actually be the Phantom’s target?? Why else would he be trying to drag him out of the car?

Sammy approaches Peter, who has since started exchanging information with Henry as they all get the last of the glass shards out of the car, and says that he wants to see if Prophet can tell anything about what happened. Sammy looks distracted for a moment, and [lack of surprise because it was actually somewhat communicated beforehand,] Prophet is here!

Prophet concentrates, and with no hesitation, mushes his hands all over Peter's face. 

The good news is that, while Prophet can tell that Peter’s been grabbed by the Phantom recently, that’s actually all that he can detect. No additional eldritch stuff, he’s not possessed, he’s not weirdly marked or damaged in a way that can’t normally be seen. Great!

But Prophet can’t tell if Peter is the target or not. For his part, Peter has been muttering that it seemed like the phantom was trying to pull information from Peter on someone else he was looking for, someone who “followed us out”, but there’s nothing Prophet can sense to confirm that… but he realizes he can sense the distortions to reality increasing throughout NYC. They’re in the air, moving about… getting stronger.

Henry can feel it too.

But that’s all the energy Prophet has, and he unfortunately misses Joey showing up and dumping his new plan of action on everyone. He, Henry and Peter are going to go find Avedon’s dumb hotel room and figure out what’s going on with him, while Sammy and Jack are going to go check up on Susie and Norman because Norman is definitely acting weird now and he’s not quite sure if Susie is in over her head or not…

Nobody objects to the plan. And with NYC losing more and more of its reality to the yellow mist rolling in, it seems important that they do something.

Henry, Joey and Peter do make a detour to Henry’s house though to make sure all is well there. The car is gone, the lights are out, things seem as they should if Linda managed to follow through and get the kids out of the city. Peter is concerned when he notices some of Henry’s wards, but don’t worry, those are supposed to be there. Henry checks them over, and they all seem good. Bendy finds a bucket of clay he and Henry's kids had played with before, and brings it along to entertain himself on any following sleepovers, since that is a thing that will probably keep happening. For once, it seems like everything is actually left alone? 

Until they look out back and find the treehouse Henry built for his kids is gone. Actually, it’s almost like all the landscaping and such in the area was just… cleared away? Or never happened. Joey meanwhile is tabbing through Henry's photo albums and makes sure everyone is still there, which they are. But the treehouse isn’t. And, perhaps even worse, there’s also an extra guy in the JDS staff photo now? Joey pockets it, since this guy seems to be in the music department according to the photo, but Joey is sure he’s never seen him before. And it’s not Alan. So. Hopefully the music boys can shed some light on this.

Henry grabs some supplies and his gun, and Joey turns him around to fix his outfit and make sure the gun is properly hidden. Avedon is 2 trigger happy, we don’t want to say our hellos by instantly showing off the weapons we brought.

Meanwhile Jack and Sammy’s drive to Norman’s is more fraught than the previous ones. Not only has he moved house again, (though at least this time they have evidence of his new address from the junk mail they took last time) but… many other roads are starting to move too. Also Sammy is driving, so, speed has been cut in the engine department too… don’t need to hit two things in a single day with all this mist building up, and any sort of navigation trouble puts even more delays in.

At least they do manage to find the place and head on in, with hope that also maybe now that Avedon has arrived Norman will stop being so “sticking it out in a house that keeps wandering off apparently.” Things seem kinda fine at first at least, like they’re not immediately shooed out or attacked or have any weird monsters hanging over the house waiting for them to try the door… But upon Sammy questioning Susie while Jack goes to find Norman in the back, the music boys find out that things are very much not fine.

Susie is… very confident with a knife all of a sudden, and very confident that she will be able to just stab the Phantom when given the word to go out and hunt him down. Y’know just… stab the guy who couldn’t be damaged by a 2 ton vehicle slamming square on into him. And when Sammy tries to argue this logic, it just becomes more and more obvious that Susie and Norman are both… in character. Susie’s speech cadence is even reminiscent of when she’s performing rather than talking normally. But they don't seem aware that their actions seem more scripted than decided.

Jack finds Norman in the back, with a hatchet and a very similar plan to Susie’s. But whatever is happening isn’t strong enough to make them completely forget themselves, and with some facts being pointed out and reminders of who they are, the boys manage to get these two actors back to themselves... kind of. There's still some weirdness going on, and this also doesn't answer the question of what could be done to prevent this happening again?

Neither Susie nor Norman really realized when it started to happen, and it took some serious outside convincing to snap them out of it at all… Do they need Henry to expel something to truly get back to themselves again??

ALSO, IF THE PHANTOM CAN’T BE HARMED WITH A CAR, WHAT ARE THEY GONNA DO ABOUT THAT TOO?? THAT SEEMS CONCERNING!!!!

Meanwhile, Henry parks near the hotel they were directed to by Avedon, and the trio look upon it in… concern. First of all, it doesn’t even look like a hotel, or look like it belongs in NYC. And the entire place is surrounded by a yellow mist… and while they could wait it out or try to somehow call Avedon and tell him to come out, it just feels like the longer they wait the worse it will get. 

Really, it’s starting to feel that way for a lot of things.

But even though everything about this feels bad, they press on and enter the “hotel”. What should be the hotel lobby is abnormally empty, and when they start up the stairs… well, that’s not normal either, the stairs just keep going. Joey is flipping any rugs he finds though to make sure they don’t have stupid destabilization spells underneath them.

After a few rounds of strange rooms, weird hallways, some alien screeching outside the windows, and Henry noticing that NYC is not the city outside said windows, he stops everyone out of worry that they’re walking into a trap… and Joey agrees. But not that this hotel is specifically a trap.

All of New York is a trap.

It doesn’t matter where they go next, the longer they don’t solve this issue, the more of a trap everything will be.

They just gotta press on.

…

Aaaaand start yelling for Avedon because clearly they aren’t gonna be just walking up to his hotel room at this point.

Good news! Avedon replies! Bad news!! Only Henry can hear it for some reason!! And… Avedon can hear Joey but not Henry?? 

It’s all very confusing. They find Henry’s reading glasses on a table. Those were in his pocket how did they get there excuse me. All of this isn't fine actually.

But after a few rounds of Avedon Polo, they finally stumble across each other in a… garden. In the middle of a hotel. And of course, the first thing Avedon says is that they need to leave immediately. He didn’t know it was going to be like THIS, he just stepped out to get a coffee and suddenly the whole place is weird??? Well, now that they’re here, time to immediately leave because YEAH THAT WAS THE PLAN FROM THE START. 

Going through another door leads out into a familiar courtyard, at least familiar to Joey. He had been here a few nights ago, while invading Y’s dream, and indeed, right where he’d expect, he finds the Y twins chatting amongst themselves. Marching up to them, Joey demands to know what they’re doing and what’s going on.

They respond by addressing him as royalty.

✧･ﾟ: *Joey Drew, as Your Highness･ﾟ: *✧

Normally, this would probably inflate Joey’s ego! Currently, it sinks like a stone into his stomach!! He does not want to be part of the play!!!

Unless…

Joey suddenly wonders, because it’s the same courtyard, if they are in a dreamscape of some sort… Does he appear different than himself… and that's why they're addressing him this way?

But no, he looks like Joey, and Henry looks like Henry, and Peter looks like Peter, and Avedon is still here… except Joey also notices some of their hands are starting to turn transparent…………. That's probably fine.

He still doesn’t want to be part of their play.

The Y twins try to get Joey to go somewhere with them, and he makes up a story why they need to not do that rn, so that the group of normal fading humans can attempt once again to leave this place. 

Since it's all weird here, Joey tries his little will-what-he-wants-into-reality trick and… well it doesn't work. Instead, he finds a throne room?? and realizes that they aren’t just in Carcosa, they’re in the castle where the Yellow King’s play takes place. And Joey manages to follow his intuition from here to find some kind of portrait hallway, covered with familiar faces… all labeled as characters from the play. Not recognizing all of them, Henry starts drawing them so we have a record of it later.

But there's a few he doesn't have to draw.

One is Alan Leroy, the guy that they're becoming sure is the target of the Pallid Mask. Part of the royal family, apparently. He's a slender man, black hair slicked back, young looking, quite pretty … kinda looks like Joey…

Which makes more sense perhaps when the portrait of the eldest son in the royal family is none other than Joey himself. Guess this is why he was being addressed as royalty… but that means the Y twins are not quite in their right minds, and anything he finds them doing here is probably just play nonsense.

Also Denis is the youngest prince but who cares about that guy.

What they DO care about is the fact they’re getting more and more transparent, so the boys go to find Avedon, who is oh so helpfully knocking shit over and muttering in french, and Joey manages to get his door trick to actually work this time; he opens the door and there’s…

STAIRS!!

Everyone starts running down them, managing not to get turned around when they start making twisty turns, and get to the front door of this stupid castle in a hotel lobby.

They peek outside.

Sure enough, on the side of the building, there’s a shadow shaped suspiciously like nothing they can really identify, so it must be some sort of angel monster or something.

At this point, there’s really only one option they have: try sneaking to the car and hope it’s looking the other way, and if not, run!

Everyone agrees that this is a great plan.

And then they do that.

There’s a bit of fumbling in the middle, but the car was parked outside of the yellow mist for once, so the creature just fades out as soon as it leaves the mist to chase them. 

Well! Okay then!! That problem is solved!! Let’s go deliver Avedon to Norman so that he can take responsibility for his mad man and then maybe stop hiding at home or something!

Henry drives off, and things seem fine for now…

Until Joey swivels around in the front seat to question Avedon, and out the back window, sees something flying after them, only visible whenever it passes through the mists…

Problem… not solved.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

While I can definitely see Pietro and the reader living at the Avengers compound, if they wanted to, what kind of house do you picture Pietro and the reader living in?

-🐬

you know, I have too many different ideas for this. he has that “two-young-idiots-in-love-sharing-an-apartment-for-the-first-time-and-kinda-struggling-financially-but-making-it-work” vibe

so everything is kinda eclectic and things don’t match, but I think it’s really charming and I love houses like that. lots of fridge magnets, shoes by the door, thrifted frames, chipped walls, noisy neighbours, patterned rugs, mix match mugs and cutlery, diy bookshelves, plants on window sills, books used as makeshift tables/ stands, outdated appliances, small quaint space — I feel like that suits. maybe something like this :

then overtime would move into next flat and save money. your things would become more cohesive and your aesthetics would merge. it would have more character and charm to it, colour coordination?? high ceilings?? big windows?? a balcony?? a quieter neighbourhood with more sun??

something like this :

[dvrtrblhr]

hii! sorry if this is weird, but i super love your art, it's so inspiring ^▽^ have you ever posted any speedpaints before? i struggle figuring out the process in my own art so i like looking at other artists process.. but only if you want to ♡

Thanks a lot! Also I don't think it's weird at all. It makes me super happy to know others are inspired by my art!

I'm supposing you mean speedpaint as in video of my painting process? If it is so, I do post them every once in a while in my instagram account (I'm babittia there). They are just the timelapses generated by procreate, there's no voice over or anything.

I can post some here if others find it interesting. Here is the timelapse for my last Mercedes portrait:

I think my process is usually like this:

Sketch whatever, find reference if needed (like for Mercedes clothes for exemple), correct sketch

Make a second cleaner sketch (or as many as needed to make the pic understandable) - I rarely ever draw a definitive lineart, I just work with my sketch lines and paint over them later if needed

Apply flat colors (sometimes I also add some shadows on another layer using multiply)

Change lines color, merge the human figure (sketch+colors) in one layer, use liquify and transform to 'fix' anything that feels odd

Paint over the sketch, over and over again, until it looks finished (My concept of finished depend a lot on my ambition with the piece I'm working on)

Add rim light and other effects to give it a more unified look

Merge everything and use color balance to make colors pop

Export pic, open it on photoshop on a much bigger screen, correct whatever weirdness I find, use selective color to push the colors even further

It's done!

I hope this is helpful! I honestly don't mind sharing my thoughts on my art process, so feel free to ask me questions about it if you want!

Also feel free to request timelapses of a particular pic. If I made it on procreate, I have it saved (none for my photoshop art, unfortunately :/)

[aquickstart]

pls may i have some saltburn takes. i saw u liked my post abt oliver never having read the reading list and it made me giggle.

OH YES DUDE oh i Loved that post because it brings up actually something that for some reason i haven't seen discussed much. oliver's unreliable narration.

i have a brilliant, i think, genius four-question plan for making people understand saltburn, and it has worked before and i will maybe elaborate on it, but not right now. right now i'll talk about one of the questions.

who is oliver telling this story to, and why?

we've established that he's an unreliable narrator at least because it's the logical conclusion for a movie shot in a way that opens and closes with his narrative. but what does oliver being untruthful actually mean for what we know about anything and everything that happened. have you ever obsessed over this particular question. well. i have.

my hot take, first of all, is that oliver is not that smart. he's clever, but the point of the movie is that he's caught up in and driven by desire; desire, pointedly, in the moment, merging desire, adapting to circumstance and leading him on. his want is not concrete from the beginning. his want is insatiable hunger that grows.

so, okay, from the top. the whole meet-cute with felix? because of a punctured tire? eh. idk if that's true. the money thing at the bar, pretending to not have any while he actually did? eh, perhaps. chronologically he then lies to felix about his dad, and this is big, this is deliberate, this is what ties felix to him for good.

what if the first two instances were coincidences? like, felix genuinely in trouble then, oliver genuinely out of cash. makes sense to become attached and actually do something, something impulsive, drastic, when felix seems to be drifting away, and lie about his dad.

interjection: you might be saying, nadia, he lied about his family from the get-go. well of course. i didn't say he's not smart enough to clock what image of a damsel in distress felix would gobble up. i'm saying he didn't do it for the long game, because there was no long game to speak of, as narrator-oliver would have you believe. i think he wanted felix so badly in that moment of several months in oxford, i think he was so blinded that he would've said anything. and he did.

now, i've briefly talked about oliver's feelings about the invitation to saltburn, and i think this is very important here. in the moment, he couldn't possibly know what exactly this invitation could mean, in the long run, only that it is definitely the next step in progression of desire for felix. present-day oliver interjection, and i believed him, after felix said he could leave anytime, i read as a slip up, an admission that oliver didn't plan shit, or at least from the beginning he didn't. it lured him in as soon as he got there, gothic house driving mad-style. he held on to a dream of something elusive (felix as a friend? lover? forever-partner in whatever capacity? i want him so bad i don't care what he is as long as he's there? please? please?).

the other obvious hole to poke at is in the end. venetia very conveniently takes the razors he places for her, and while sure, it could be read as him just hinting at how he conveniently read her fragile state and took advantage of it, i don't buy it. (i'm honestly even tempted to suggest he met elspeth on accident, to then spin a pretty story for his own sake, but him keeping tabs on the surviving cattons all those years tracks with what we know about obsessive oliver; he's definitely known about her flat for a while.)

but those are all minor stuff. i get completely if you think i'm reading too much into it and this is all just a headcanon after all, to be fair. BUT. but.

my second big take is that oliver was/is madly in love with felix. i know, shocking. but you have probably seen people say he wasn't. i will elaborate.

i wasn't in love with him. i loved him. i hated him. what does this sound like. have you ever had a friend come to you after a breakup fuming and telling you how they'll never end up with this asshole for sure and then get back together with him and then break up and say the same thing again.

i loved him, but i wasn't in love with him. i know everyone thought i was, but i wasn't. have you never told anyone something of the sort, specifically the last part, to emphasize just how it's everyone around you that's kinda hung up on whatever it is, and you've moved way past it, actually. have you never told yourself that.

i have. i know many other people who have, too. so, who is oliver telling this story to, and why? there's no one but dead elspeth in front of him. there's no one but himself. fun fact: each time you recall an event, it distorts under the influence of the mix of past and present emotions. each time you recall, you mold memory (source, e.g., x). the way i personally see it, oliver, for whatever reason, retells the story in order to solidify his own memory of it in the way that he wants to remember it. whatever he says, this is his final word, and this is his final truth.

this is also why details slip through, like my beloved i believed him, like the emotional i hated him growing into self-convincing, misleadingly dismissive, definitely unsure i hated him by the end. those are the true emotions that he recalls, those are the times that are hard to rewrite, for whatever reason.

of course, he hated them all. but before that, he loved felix to the point of blindly following where felix's desire led oliver, at least the way oliver perceived felix's desire. it failed, crucially, when felix's desire brought them to the center of the labyrinth, where oliver could not be the desired anymore.

my third hot take in connection to this is that oliver did not know he would kill felix until the very night he did it. he didn't know it, i think, until the last hour, until felix refused to reconcile completely, until he made his blood run cold. i also briefly mention it here, specifically how farleigh is tragically connected to felix's death, in my opinion. this tracks with, again, my strong belief that oliver lies, lies and lies throughout this whole story about wanting to take everything from felix from the beginning; no, he fucking didn't. he wanted felix. he wanted felix to be his. that was number one priority. he wanted felix and whatever else came with it, undoubtedly, but not the other way around.

paradoxically, he also wanted to be felix; he wanted to be him and be with him just as us tumblr people can often relate and the tragedy is that you always have to choose. felix pushed him away, so there was no other choice but to take what was left of felix that oliver could take. hence the clothes wearing, the table scene talk, the refusal to leave.

felix chose not to choose oliver, so oliver became felix. it's his fault. felix promised oliver could leave. felix left instead. what was oliver to do.

but to your point about the books, i think it could be either way, actually. i think he could have lied about it because technically that's also in character for him, he was performing for an audience of his tutor. but i also think that he was, genuinely, a nerd before he came to oxford, and he didn't, and still doesn't, have any friends, and he hates his sisters and his mother and is miserable. he's the perfect profile of someone who'd read king james' bible over the summer, and then some, imma be honest.

so, yes. i think oliver lies about most things in saltburn and i think he's pathetic, lost, confused, grieving, angry, horny, down bad and in denial. and i fucking love him. i so fuckin do.