#normal picture made to move by ai

[starker-raving-mads]

For you: Part V

This is the part I was waiting for. :)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

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Peter hadn't slept a wink in two days.

"Baby, come on, you're scaring me here," Aunt May said, frown firmly on her face as she ran her hands through the teen's hair. Peter had been at their small dining table, coffee in hand, bags under his eyes, when May woke up, took one look at him, and realized his insomnia had kicked in again. "Is it the noises again?"

Peter often couldn't sleep because the city was too loud. Even louder now than it had been before, because there was so much more construction and angry shouting from people still trying to make space for themselves in a world that had been half empty a few months ago. That wasn't why he couldn't sleep this time, his mind too entrenched in Tony Stark missed you to shut down. He hummed in agreement to Aunt May, though. Let her think it's the sound, there's no way he could possibly explain the reality.

She pet his hair for another minute, soothing the both of them in the same ritualistic maternal way she always had, before she took his face in both her hands and made him look at her.

"You need to get some sleep," she said, tone firm. "And I know you can't just - turn off the Spider-Man thing," she huffed before he could protest. "But maybe - maybe you could sleep in the penthouse. I know it's quieter there than it is here." She sounded hesitant saying it, and Peter knew why.

Despite it having been months since the will reading and his life having been irrevocably changed, despite feeling comfortable with what was left of the Avengers and spending time in Tony's - his - lab, he hadn't set foot into the penthouse. It felt too raw. Too intimate. Too much.

"No, May, I'll be fine," he protested weakly. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, thankful it would be months yet before his first semester at Columbia started. He could get a hold of himself by then, right?

"Peter Parker," May's voice was sharp. "I will not have you getting yourself sick because of this. If you can't find a way to nap today, here, you're going to spend the night at the penthouse I don't care what you have to say, mister."

That was how, 12 hours later, he found himself at the elevator exit to the Stark Tower penthouse, bag of clothes in hand.

"Mother, would you like to come in?" Friday asked. Her tone was curious, not sure why Peter had just been standing inside the open elevator when the door to the Penthouse was right there. Humans were strange.

"I - yeah, sure, baby girl, sorry," he said, shaking his head.

If being in Mr. Stark's labs was enough to make his inner voice echo he missed you, he missed you, he missed you then being in his penthouse was enough for it to say you miss him right back. The living room was much the same as the last time he'd seen it, though a little sparser. Pictures of Tony and Pepper were now missing, the random pieces of artwork that had lined the walls were conspicuous in their absence, and the caddy that normally held his favorite, ultra-soft blanket he used during movie nights was gone.

He set his bag down on the sleek waterfall counter of the open kitchen and wandered the space, feeling Tony's absence like a discordant note in a song.

"Friday, what happened to - Mr. Stark's stuff?" he asked, not really sure how to phrase the question. There was a lot missing there, like the blankets, some of the pillows, even Mr. Stark's desk.

"Boss moved a lot of the items that were here out when he and Ms. Potts officially moved to the cabin," the AI said before continuing. "Then, after his death and the will reading, Ms. Potts sent movers up to retrieve last minute items."

He frowned.

"Lock everything down that belongs to me, that was Mr. Stark's," he asked. "I don't want anyone coming in or out without my express permission. I don't like the thought of her taking things that don't belong to her."

"Yes, Mother. If you would like, I can send a request through official channels to get any missing items back?"

He sighed. "No," he grumbled. "It's fine, I don't think anything serious was taken - she didn't grab any of the tech did she?"

"No, it was primarily artwork, sculptures, furniture, and other such items," Friday replied. "There were a few things, like blankets, books, and vinyl records she also retrieved. I am sorry if anything was taken that you had wished to remain, Mother." The intelligence sensed his slight distress and her tone had shifted to slightly sorrowful.

"It's fine, sweetheart," he sighed. "You didn't know and it wasn't anything too important."

He walked the rest of the penthouse, the floor very familiar to him. He had his own room here from crashing after too-late lab binges, and sometimes he and Tony would skip the lab all together for a 'day off' and watch movies, order pizza, and just relax. Not every hallway or room had memories, but enough did to the point that the reminders were becoming more of a dull ache than the sharp stabs he'd been expecting.

Walking down the hallway where the bedrooms were, he peered into his own. Officially it was a guest room, but it had been Peter's for long enough that a few of his clothes were stuffed into the drawers of the dresser, one of his favorite pillows was tossed onto the bed, and his old, half-broken laptop was on the desk. He smiled softly. His new laptop - still new to him, despite it having been months (years) in his possession - had come from Mr. Stark after he'd watched Peter fix his DIY one too many times.

"Here, kid," the older man had said, thunking down a sleek piece of silver tech in front of him. "I'm tired of watching you try to bring Frankenstein to life over here."

"You mean Frankenstein's Monster," Peter had replied, smiling up at the man playfully. Tony rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh before walking away. "Thank you, sir!"

"Yeah, yeah, just try to keep your Monster away from me." A wink, and he was on the other side of the room.

Stepping away from his room, he walked further down the hallway, to an area of the penthouse he'd never actually explored - Mr. Stark's bedroom. And, realistically, it was Mr. Stark's. He knew that Ms. Potts had infinitely preferred the brownstone that she was left in Manhattan to the sleek, open views of the penthouse. Peter didn't think he'd ever seen her around the apartment, and from what Mr. Stark said, she'd only stayed over in the early days of their relationship and hadn't spent time here after it became Avenger Tower, and then Stark Tower again.

Peter couldn't really bring himself to feel bad about being so happy over that fact, either when he learned it, or now, as he opened up Tony's bedroom and walked inside.

The room was low-lit, with most of the light coming from the entire wall of windows to one side, city lights gleaming in like stars. There was a patio with a hot tub just outside the barrier of the windows and the silent, faint muffle of city life beyond. This room, in particular, was quiet. Peter had to wonder if it was actually more soundproofed than the rest of the penthouse, or if it was just in his head.

The bed was made, all dark wood and metal platform with deep blue-gray sheets on top. The comforter was probably the softest thing he'd ever felt and god, the smell. It felt like Tony had just left the room, smell lingering across every surface - rich, spicy and musky. Something indulgent and instinctual made Peter toe off his shoes and, still fully dressed, get into the bed.

He covered his head with the blankets and laid in the silent dark, surrounded by Mr. Stark - his scent, his belongings, feeling like he was finally where he was meant to be. His throat closed up with emotions he barely willed away.

Uncovering his head again, he said to Friday, "Fri, turn out the lights and wake me up at 9?", before shimmying out of his jeans. He laid there for a long time before, at long last, sleep took him.

For the first time since he returned from the Blip - and to be honest, probably from before then too - he had no nightmares. No buildings crushing him, no existential pain of being disintegrated, no Mr. Stark covered in blood, light dying in his eyes.

Instead, he was surrounded in warmth and an amazing scent. His senses tingled in the best way, like everything was as it should be. Mind quiet, muscles finally losing their tension. It was perfect.

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Over the course of the next month, Peter split his time pretty evenly between his and May's apartment and Tony's penthouse. He loved May, and he didn't want to leave her alone after so long, but there was something that just felt right about being at the penthouse. She seemed to understand, and said that as long as he still came by to see her a few times a week and they talked on the phone every day that she wouldn't begrudge him the independence. It was a relief to her, he thought, to see him becoming more stable rather than wallowing in depression.

This was probably the biggest change, thus far, since becoming Tony's heir. That, the amount of messages Friday received bugging him for interviews with any and all media outlets, and working on Tony's 'Peter Project.'

A few days after stumbling on the billionaire's research into recreating organic intelligence, Peter decided to pick the project back up again. No matter that it made his heart squeeze almost painfully, he felt like he had to complete it. It was the man's last big effort and it felt wrong to leave it undone.

He'd spent most of his free time - when not with May, his friends, or patrolling - pouring over the data. He couldn't quite figure out why Mr. Stark had ceased his efforts as once Peter found the digital files for the project it looked as if the man had been practically finished.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, he asked, "Baby girl, I swear he made this difficult on purpose. Why did Mr. Stark stop looking into this?"

Could it simply have been that once it was within the man's grasp that it hurt too much to complete?

"Boss was unable to gather enough data that represented the you variable in the Peter Project to continue," she replied.

"What does that mean?" he asked, puzzled.

"The amount of information that needs to be analyzed simply was not enough," Friday explained. "The algorithm to extrapolate and recreate your personality, intelligence, and mannerisms needed approximately 130,000 hours of footage, metabolic data, and other such information before being able to provide a close approximation of what makes Peter, Peter."

The teen did the math in his head before his eyes widened. "15 years??"

"That is correct, Mother," there was that amusement laced within the AI's tone again. If Peter was right, it was happening more often. It made him proud to see his little AI start to grow up. "And since you are only 18 years old currently, this would have been an impossible task. Ideally, the 15 years worth of data would have been collected post-adolescence, as well, to cement what was Peter from what was Little Peter."

Peter hummed in understanding, leaning back into the couch. He crossed his arms behind his head and sat thinking for long, long moments as ideas formed in his head.

He sat upright as something occurred to him.

"Friday?" he asked, nerves making his voice waver.

"Yes, Mother?"

"How much data do you have on Mr. Stark? Like - " he gulped before continuing " - like the data needed for the Peter Project?"

She paused before saying, "As I have access to Jarvis's data as well as my own, I have approximately 144,540 hours of appropriate data."

His nerves tingled, every fiber of his being screaming at him - stop, go, do, don't. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But - but it was a way to get Mr. Stark back. Some semblance of him. A fairly accurate representation, at least, right?

"What's the latest data that you have access to for Mr. Stark?" he asked instead of saying what he really, really shouldn't. He would stop here and now if it was pre-Blip. He couldn't bring a Tony back that didn't have those -

"The final files I have appropriate for this measure are concurrent with the fight against Thanos," Friday said helpfully. "Technically speaking, as well, if you allow me to access Karen's records I would be able to shore up my data with that which was obtained via her recordings."

His heart stopped. Then, it raced.

"Okay baby," he finally said, mind running a million miles an hour now, standing and rushing to his desk. His hands flew, opening new files and folders, copying data, working. "We're opening a new project and I want you to copy over all the data from the Peter Project to it, okay?"

"Yes, Mother." Friday paused, deliberating. "May I ask what this is in reference to?"

"Yeah," he said, mind already ten steps ahead. "We're going to bring Mr. Stark back. Name the new project 'Tony Only Needs You'."

TONY.

[victoria-rue]

victoria-rue's Recommendation Masterlist part 3

Okay, so, this is my third masterlist. And each masterlist has about 50 stories, so 100+ stories in total. All I'm saying is I might have a problem, but these authors deserve recognition for their amazing works of art. They deserve to be spread out to more people, even if there's only a small amount people that see this. These authors deserve the world ♥︎

Recommendation Masterlist part 1, part 2, part 3, & part 4

Marvel

Miles Morales

❝ white lies ❞ by @berriweb

LINK UP by @qkopi

you loved your boyfriend miles, you really do. he was everything you could ask for; he was handsome, gentle, and very caring towards you like a good boyfriend should be… but there’s also times where he would cancel dates out of nowhere and that would leave you to be disappointed and go home bored. miles then tried to make it up to you by planning to hangout at his place this today, but things go sideways when his twin brother decides to take things into his own hands..

Bereavement by @famwhy

Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?

Peter Parker

Part Of Your World by @waitimcomingtoo

Peter meets a girl who dreams of being where the people are

hoax by @waitimcomingtoo

when Peter strikes out with you but discovers you’re a fan of his alter ego, he gets you tangled in his web of lies

Miguel O'Hara

Across the Street by @quaintii

It's been a couple weeks since a new family moved in, across the street. You go pay them a visit with an offer.

The game of cat and spider by @lucywrites02

You are a criminal and he's a hero. You don't know each other's names, never seen the person behind the mask. You aren't enemies- you are supposed to be but that didn't work out quite well. You liked each other a bit too much,  but your relationship was strictly…. Professional? What happens if you meet as normal people, with no masks and responsibilities in your way? What did the universe plan for you? And most importantly…. Will it last?

Daddy Issues by @drefear

Halo by @missdictatorme

You are an AI designed by Miguel. He gave you a unique voice, one he knew he would like listening to. He didn't really gave much thought to how you looked like when he made you a hologram form, he just choose a random picture of a woman from the internet. What happens when you ask for permission to design your own look?

Web of Secrets by @liliacamethyst

Bittersweet Devotion by @diejager

IGOR by @papuhater

Bucky Barnes

i never thought you’d happen to me by @nickfowlerrr

Wade Wilson

Here’s To Us by @baka-bakeneko

Wade's street neighbor needs to use Wade's hot water.

Marc Spector + Steven Grant + Jake Lockley

Already over. by @m00nsbaby

With You by @ivystoryweaver

Eddie Brock/Venom

RUSH HOUR by @ghostheartfelt

you meet eddie during morning rush hour, vv understanding man who admires your connection with your customers and dedication towards your job. eddie's hungry for chocolate (n you), you pique interest in the host and his symbiote.

Miles Morales, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Peter Parker (Spider-Noir)

THIS IS A LIFE by @mo0nfairy

in every universe, spiderman will inevitably lose the one thing that matters most to him: y/n l/n. miguel o'hara, peter parker, and hobie brown have all suffered through this story. they soon discover another version of you is alive, bound to fall in love with miles morales and to die abruptly. with the prospect of a second chance and a newfound obsession, these four men will do anything to keep you at their side.

Detroit become human

Connor RK800

Criminal Analysis by @gogogodzilla

You never pictured this life for yourself. Never pictured that android cases would start piling up and you'd be assigned to figure out why they were deviating. You were a forensic psychologist hired by the Detroit Police Department as a consultant. You usually dealt with figuring out what made suspects tick and why they did what they did. You figured it'd be the same thing, as usual, that is until a certain android walked into your crime scene and completely turned your life upside down.

Hunger Games

Finnick Odair

Finnick Odair book series by @mrsnancywheeler

midnight rain (Book One)

finnick had pulled the plug on your relationship long ago, when he could no longer keep from you what he'd been forced into. but after you've returned victorious from your games, he knows you need him as the nightmares come for you each time you close your eyes.

the lakes (Book Two)

it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

the river (Book Three)

the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

Avatar

Jake Sully

A Child of the Stars by @berry-blue03

you are Jake Sully's six year old daughter, who goes with him to Pandora. Takes place during the first Avatar movie

ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ɢᴏᴅ by @teyamsatan

Being one of two human kids left behind after the war, Jake has never seen you as anymore than a little stray cat, always hanging around his village and his kids. All will change one day when the two of you are stranded together, and he gets to discover there's more to you than he ever thought - enough to risk everything he's built for himself in the last 24 years of his life.

Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyo'itan

Do you hate me? by @byunpum

You are the eldest Sully daughter, you are adopted. All your life you have grown up watching tsu'tey, and your feelings for him have grown. Everything changes when one day you go hunting with your crush.

Miles Quaritch

Sweet like cherry by @pandoraslxna

Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.

Damsel, let me de-stress you… by @quaritchsluts

Y/N te Suli Neytiri’ite is captured and imprisoned by Colonel Miles Quaritch and his squad, alongside her childhood friend - Spider - when attempting to aid her younger siblings whom were cornered by the recom team when exploring the woods. As Jake Sully’s eldest child, she knows it won’t be long until her father bites back at the recombinants, as does Miles. Because, how dare he take his precious daughter? His firstborn? So, with the odds against him — as well as the clock — and not to mention the displeased dad on his tail, Miles knows he must do whatever it takes to get all the information out of her that he can. Whatever it takes.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan

Ghost girl by @byunpum

After their village was destroyed by humans, Y/N must seek refuge in the forest. Her being rescued by a peculiar family, she discovering that her gift had led her to them.

i remember her hands. and the way the mountains looked. by @vampsywrites

In which the Sullys approach the mountain clan for sanctuary. The Olo'eykte agrees but proposes one condition: Toruk Makto's eldest son must be promised to her daughter. Surprisingly, instead of the solemn response one would expect, Neteyam agrees almost instantaneously.

Jealousy by @eyweveng

You have a secret relationship with Neteyam but find out terrible news from your bestfriend.

~To You He Feels Like Home~ by @ghoul-bonez

You were born to the forest, wild by nature, wild by nurture, and surely wild in spirit. Your animal family had always warned you about strangers, the odd people who looked like you, but when one approaches you, you can’t help but be curious. When your curiosity wears off and you deem him weird enough you’re convinced you’ll never see him again, but Eywa has other plans.

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan

twin flames by @strangerdangerwrites

Eywa has bonded the Son of the Forest and Daughter of Ember over the pain and grief towards the Sky People.

Ao’nung

Fated Mates by @anemonelovesfiction

-stars- by @adhdduckie

When Y/N, and the sullys first reach the reef, a boy catches her eye, and she does her best to catch his attention. She doesn't believe he likes her back, and she thinks it's ridiculous that she's so whipped for this boy. He seems to have no interest in her.

Ronal & Tonowari

Connection by @blue-sadie

Traveling with the sullys to the Metkayina village and tonowari and ronal falling in love with you at first sight and feeling a connection to you.

Neteyam & Lo'ak

Do It If You Dare by @aonungswifeyy

Picture her being quaritch’s daughter, who tries to kill lo’ak but she gets captured by neteyam and by the end of it all, quaritch finds out she now belongs to both lo’ak and neteyam

Reunion by @yourstrulybluelover

The Sullys have been away for years. They have just returned to the Forrest, not only bringing with them joy and hope but also uprooting masked feelings.

"The Love Shack" by @vivid-ink

You’d heard the whispered speculations and stifled giggles during the daytimes. You’d seen the furtive glances that the other women cast at Neteyam and Lo’ak through coquettish eyes, cheeks stained a blushing mauve as they exchanged coy smiles with the two brothers. And during the nights? Hell, you’d heard the moans and wanton cries for yourself… You were definitely curious, but did you have it in you to go through with their proposition?…

Actors

Jamie Flatters

ALL THINGS CONNECTED by @yawneneteyam

growing up on set together, y/n and jamie share their love for one another through the only way they know.. filmmaking

Time Wasters

Ralph Penbury

Worth It by @wheels-of-despair

Your mother forces you to go to a Valentine's Day dance with a dull date, but Ralph manages to make your night worthwhile.

Scream

Ethan Landry

Perverted by @demontonic

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 by @n-slayaaaaa

Seeing the Core Four years after an explosive argument ended your friendship brought about plenty of unwelcome emotions—can you let the past go or has your plan for healing old wounds gone too far?

obsessed by @messylustt

getting a call from ghostface is never good. especially when you find out who lives under the mask—the dorky boy who you drunkenly kissed one night.

a father’s malice by @shadesslut

After the Ghostface attacks, Y/N tried her best to move on from Ethan with raising their son, but things get harder after Ethan gets out of jail.

Billy & Stu

Of Friends and Horror by @grimoireofhayley

You have been best friends with Billy Loomis since you both were in diapers, however, when high school hit, Billy's mom had filed for divorce and had left his father. His dad was miserable even in marriage, hence his continuous affairs with Maureen Prescott. Though, after the divorce and his mother leaving, Billy has been different since; He started dating Sidney Prescott, the late Mrs. Prescott's daughter. He never showed an interest in her until now… But why?

The Last Airbender

Zuko

rotations by @reinerispretty

written during the prime of the atla rennaissance (summer 2020), (y/n) is a child of the fire nation aristocracy and a close friend to prince zuko. as circumstances drive the two apart, she finds them thrown back together. this time on opposite sides of a war.

Daughter of the Spirits by @jettingtothemoon

In which y/n comes across the fire nation prince during her stay in Ba Sing Se.

Last of Us

Joel Miller

Against All Odds by @and-claudia

Look For the Light by @cowgurrrl

When you left Boston with Joel Miller and a little girl named Ellie, you never thought it would land you in Jackson, Wyoming with a tiny family.

sun bleached flies by @sempersirens

stumbling upon the settlement of jackson whilst 4 months pregnant had almost felt too good to be true. for the past seven years, you had been able to raise your daughter, mia, surrounded by a safe and supportive community. however, your small slice of paradise came tumbling down the day joel miller arrived. despite only crossing paths for a fleeting encounter all those years ago, you would never forget the face of your daughter's father.

Strawberries and Cigarettes by @hischeapcigar

you're falling in love with the person your dad hates the most

Miraculous Ladybug

Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir

New Bug in Town by @lilian-writes-sins

With Marinette AKA Ladybug gone, Chat Noir has to hold down the fort and protect the city of Paris from Hawkmoth, while waiting for Master Fu to choose the next Ladybug miraculous holder. The city is in disarray for months, with no sign of Ladybug returning, people are starting to lose hope. Until one day, when some passersby see a red and black figure jumping on the rooftops.

[brianjamur]

The wave of Hatsune Miku

Damn, i drew this in hope that maybe it would make my creative gears moving again, but instead it made me realize that i do indeed need some rest for a while.

I must admit, embarrassingly, i got this idea from a picture i saw a while back that might or might not be AI generated, and i legit upset since then, because such interesting idea, Hokusai's famous wave painting as Miku's twintail, yet they were executed by AI... So i've been thinking about drawing that same idea for a while, and i finally did it.

I didn't like, 100% redraw the thing. I tried integrating some Japanese aspect to it since i want to make clear that it was inspired by Hokusai.

Well, to be honest i didn't really know if the original was supposed to be Hokusai's wave or just a normal wave/waterfall, so i took my liberty to give her a yukata, a brush, and a jacket? outer? Inspired by Ryougi Shiki, so there we go.

[hacked-by-jake]

I didn't finish the first episode yet, but I saw a lot of people saying that the ending was amazing and worth the pain. I was disappointed in the game, but the way all people boycott Everbyte without even finishing the episode is ridiculous to me.

I understand the anger about AI art, the emptiness of the characters, and ESPECIALLY the pay to win concept. Just because it has a good ending doesn't make up to the negative parts. But people should have first finished the episode and only then give their opinion. It wasn't fair. Yes, we are all disappointed. I also get the conspiracy theory about Everbyte having an investor or someone else taking over the design and completely messing it up. It's still no excuse to shit on the work of Everbyte like that.

People played the episode for about 15 minutes and immediately hated on Everbyte and I was one of them and am a little ashamed. It was a smart move of Everbyte to mix the main game with the side story, but I also get the people who are upset by it. We waited 2 years for answers and now we have to pay diamonds and money to get the full experience. I fully get it, yes. The criticism is completely fine but hate to the point that they insult the developes? No, just no. I can't wait to find out about the end of the episode. Until then, I wish you a good day. 🩵 Thank you for your work.

Greetings, an old friend ♡

Well, I absolutely get what you mean and I also understand why you think so.

But I have to say, I don’t think finishing the episode before wasn't necessary to see the problems and to point it out.

Many people had problems right after starting the game. It started with bugs. Of course we all had to look around before we started playing. And I guess many people immediately went to check the profile customisation options etc. Then we were greeted with AI art only. We directly saw the pictures aren't even free and most of us, or all thought we're allowed to put our own pictures as profile picture etc. Which was another disappointment right away.

Then we had to realise that we cannot pick a specific picture and buy it but only randomly.

Just a bunch of disappointments from the beginning and it didn’t get better. I mean, I saw so many people who said they gave up to play because of bugs and the mini games and stuff.

So actually, I think it's very understandable that some started to show their disappointment right away.

Of course, I only talk about critism. Not hate. There's a difference. And I said a lot of times by now that hate is absolutely disgusting.

Luckily, on Tumblr I almost saw no one really hating on Everbyte. I don’t know how hate looks to you and when it was already hate in your eyes. I think we don’t know exactly what we others meant and saw. So it's hart to give my opinion on that.

It's simply hard to say much when I don't know what exactly you saw or said or mean. Hating can look differently and I think even harsher words don’t have to be hate right away, it always depends on the context.

However, I find it very strong of you to admit that you were involved. And your words show that you have empathy with Everbyte and reflected your behavior. This is a good thing to be proud of.

I think we all might have made a mistake or two in the situation, Everbyte, but also the community. But hey, I just have to say: These games that Everbyte has created are visibly attached to our hearts and thus evoke stronger emotions. Which actually only shows how much we like the games and especially want to play them.

It’s just problematic that there were so many people at once, but that’s not our fault. We can’t just be quiet just because others have already mentioned it, it just doesn’t work that way. And unfortunately, in this situation Everbyte received criticism with the side effect that many more people follow them. So it is clear that the outcry is much bigger and louder.

Everbyte deserved the criticism. And the normal critism was much more silent than the hate. Because unfortunately it is always the case that the hate is much more noticeable than the normal critics. Hate is much louder and that’s why we remember it longer.

The whole situation was just overwhelming and we were all just full of emotions. This can get stronger and stronger, and sometimes it can make us say things we regret later.

Pure hate is a completely different story. Especially when the hate was deliberately pronounced just like that because people don’t care that we still talk about real human beings.

But I think we can all forgive ourselves for saying something in a very tense and emotional situation that might have been a bit brisk. It happened and we can't change it. The situation was too much for many of us, and it’s part of being a human being to do or say sometimes rash things without think a lot beforehand.

So I think we should not be mad at ourselves for it. (Unless you spread real hate and pure hate by insulting Everbyte personally or anything)

I would like to thank you for sharing your thoughts and especially for mentioning positive things at the end. And I hope you are doing better now and all thoughts can be classified and understood more calmly.

I wish you a wonderful day/evening/night. 💚

Lots of love to you, old friend. 💚

[bilightningwhumper]

@ailesswhumptober 2024- Day 5

Sensory Saturday: Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”

<<Previous . My AI-less Whumptober 2024 Masterlist . Next>>

Shadow of a Shield (Jamie's story) Masterlist --- SoaS Series Masterlist

Summary:

Excerpt for "Shadow of a Shield" (Jamie's story) Jamie has a sensory overload away from home in the midst of high school drama

Notes:

Characters: Jamie- Steve and Peggy's daughter Jenny- Jamie's bully Will- Bucky and Nat's son, Mare's twin, Jamie's brother Ana (mentioned)- Jamie's best friend Steve Rogers (mentioned, not by name)- Jamie's dad Mrs Sherkal (mentioned)- one of the teachers in their high school Warnings: sensory overload, disassociation, bullying, derogatory language, blood mention

Ao3 link

Word count: 522

Jamie PoV

All Jamie wanted to do was get home and curl up in bed. Maybe she should just call her dad. But there was no way Miss Sherkal would let her take the test at a later date, not without humiliating her first. No, better to just tough it out. She’d be okay.

She was so out of it, she didn’t notice the whispers and looks until she got closer to her locker. All the hushed voices quickly became static noise in her head. She bit her lip, trying to tune it out again. But what she saw made that impossible.

SLUT

Written in big red letters on her locker. Some sort of paint or marker. It didn’t matter. The voices got louder as her control slipped, overlapping, cluttered, static.

“… can’t believe she kissed him…”

“… did you see how hot that picture was…“

“… how could Will do that to Jenny…”

“… they don’t look good together at all…”

“… who do you think she’ll hook up with next?”

Someone bumped into her from behind. She turned on her heel reflexivly, nerves haywire.

Jenny was standing there, surrounded by her normal posse. Someone was missing. Who was missing? They were too close, cornering her around the lockers.

The other girl leaned in close, smirking. “How does it feel, freak? Everyone finding out what I’ve known all along.”

Please, just stop.

She wanted Ana.

She just wanted to go home.

Why couldn’t everyone just shut up?

“Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?” Jenny was… crying? And speaking louder. “You knew that Will and I just started dating and wanted to take it slow. Why’d you have to kiss him? Do you really hate me that much?”

The light was flickering.

Too many people.

Her voice was stuck.

“What’s going on here?”

Jamie’s normal relied at seeing one of her siblings was dulled by her over-firing senses. Will must have sensed that because now he was next to her, somehow materializing through the crowd. Pushed through it first? She couldn’t concentrate.

“How could you cheat on me with her?” Jenny keened, more tears, too loud. The pitches of her voice felt like needles in her ears. “Is she good in bed or something?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Will’s growling undertones and suddenly agitated scent made her head hurt. “We’re not even dating.”

Just stop. Please stop. I can’t take this anymore.

“I bet she told you to say that.” the other girl wailed. “No one ever believed me, but I knew she was a slut, just like her mother. And now-”

Jamie didn’t know what happened. She just saw red. Felt her fist moving through the air at Jenny’s face. But she could only pull back enough not to shatter her skull, not to stop the hit. Now Jenny was on the ground, screaming, blood everywhere.

Shit

Everything got louder, too much, too much. Will’s arm was around her, pulling her back. Something soft was in her hand now. She latched onto it. An anchor. The rest of her retreated. Back, back, back into her head. Back, back, back.

SoaS Taglist:

No one so far

[another-rp-bl0g]

My Roleplay Information!!

Hello! I am El or Elliott, I’m 19 if you are here you probably found me from one of my roleplay searching posts or a different subreddit! As my name say this account is mainly just for looking for roleplaying! One of my partners made a post like this on their account and i thought It was a pretty good idea!

— 𝗔𝘃𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀: 𝟮/𝟰 —

(This whole post could be added on to or changed in the future)

𝗦𝗼 𝗮 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝗲!

- I have been roleplaying for 5+ years and got my start on animo (sorry I gagged too) so I have quite a lot of experience underneath my belt in a multitude of fandoms! I would like to say I’m at least Semi-Lit (I have dyslexia which makes me a bit hard to understand) and often match replies or at least give you something to work with to move the roleplay along. I will never give a one sentence reply! And I will not like getting one back either

- I exclusively write in third person with maybe first if it’s the characters thoughts and much prefer if my partner does the same.

- I love character drama and good character design, sometimes I will steal a fandom character to slap a different character on them just because I love the design so much or just kinda make them fit into a rp (Such as one of my sci-fi plots)

- I’m an artist and will occasionally draw my characters or use them in rps, if I have enough inspiration I could draw yours but plus don’t pressure me to show my art or to draw your characters

- My timezone is EST or “New York time”

- I do have a job but my hours are quite strange and often don’t work a lot outside of mornings. I have a lot of free time lmao

- I’m very understanding of life things and not being able to roleplay some days or even weeks but please understand I will not wait around forever

- I never much enjoy OOC and being friendly with my partners, we don’t have to being gaming buddies or vc or anything like that but I do enjoy being friendly at least!

- 100% comfortable with NSFW rp and content but plot > porn is what I’m here for! But I will say nsfw to SFW content is normally around 20/80 of my roleplays with some variation

- I do double and loving doubling!!

𝗗𝗡𝗜 𝗶𝗳

- under 18, I am not comfortable with roleplaying with minors

- Use AI for art or replies, I am an artist and don’t appreciate my art being used for such things and stealing from other artist

- Pure NSFW roleplays, we can do the occasional one shot (as I do with some other partners) but again I like plot and purpose over just pure porn

- Don’t like LGBT+ characters, are racist, xenophobic, homophobic, transphobic and or fetishize any of them along with being hateful in general. And please keep politics outside of this, I don’t care but will if you make me and it will probably end with me leaving

- Plan on getting, sending or anything of the sort IRL pictures of me SFW or Otherwise or plan to somehow get into my pants. I am not interested

𝗠𝘆 𝗥𝗣 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀

- I really enjoy Fantasy (High or low lmao), Sci-Fi, cyberpunk and Superhero settings/themes for roleplays! I don’t mind Slice of life but I prefer something interesting cooked in with it (Like Magic in the world or monster if you get what I mean)

- I love playing monsters characters or non-human characters! Big ol monsters or small kobolds I do not mind! I much prefer being the monster in a monster fucking scenario

- MxM over anything in all honesty, I love playing LGBT+ characters but man <3 (I’m pan and most of my characters are too so anything works)

- Angst!!! A good stab in the heart!! I have on multiple times cried while writing replies! I love it!

- Long running roleplays, I love one that continue on for a while but sadly everyone does lost interest every so often but I can run multiple rps at a time with multiple partners

- I prefer if characters have art over real people being used as faceclaims, it just makes me feel a bit strange? But I will not push you do to whatever

𝗥𝗽 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀, 𝗟𝗶𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘀

(𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝘂𝘀𝗵 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗽𝘂𝘀𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗜 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗽𝘀)

- Incest or Ageplay, ew no and not my cup of tea. Hard pass

- Pregnancy, it makes me uncomfortable. Eggs are fine but characters actually having kids is a grey zone for me.

- Kinks such as: Scat, hyperinflation (if you want a big dick have a big character same goes for tiny girls with huge tits, there is no way her fat distribution is just all in her chest let’s be so fucking for real), armpits, DDGL, puppy play, extreme gore/guro or very descriptive acts of of gore (that goes for general rp)

- Grey zone ones I don’t super prefer or hate outright is mainly just Anal on female characters

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗻𝗲𝗿!

- Chill and Friendly! We don’t have to be gaming buddies or have vcs everyday but I do enjoy sending memes in OOC and talking!

- Okay and willing to Double, it feels like I’m talking to myself if are not both doubling lmao

- Can match replies and can get really into rps! Bring that passion!

- Can at least maybe give at least a reply a day but that’s a maybe, I do prefer frequent replies but do understand why that can’t be possible for some people

- Won’t send dick pics please guys 😭

𝗖𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺/𝗵𝘆𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝘅𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀! 𝗔𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁�� 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 )𝗜 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝗰 > 𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺𝘀)

- Cyberpunk (Joytoy Oc, V, or other Ocs)

- Destiny 2 (Eliksni Oc or Guardian Oc)

- Helluva/Hazbin (Stella, Stolas, Vassavo, Husk)

- Furry characters (I really like the artist Canis Albus and would be up to play Machete from them)

- Detroit become human (Ralph, Connor, Nines or Gavin)

- Horror or Dead by Daylight characters (Ghostface, The legion, The miner from my bloody Valentine, The plague and maybe other)

- Genshin Impact/Honkai star rail (Boothill, Sunday, Baizhu, Kafka, Kaeya and Rosaria)

- Pressure (Sebastian or AU version of Blitz)

- DND or Baldur’s gate (OCs)

- Among us or lethal company

- Beastars (Pina, Legoshi, Haru, Louis or maybe OCs)

- Alien stage (Luka)

- Fear and Hunger (OCs or Enki)

- Ultrakill (V2)

- Slay the princess (The long quiet/The bird lol)

(More to come probably lmao)

Thank you if you read all of this! You are the best! Please message me if you are interested and my slots are still free!

[jupitercl0uds]

ok just in case heres alternate social medias i might turn to if banned:

TWITTER! i hate twitter i hate twitter i hate twitter i actually used to like twitter! ive had an account for over 2 years now and made it like a month before my tumblr. unforuntately im worried that if i moved permanantly, id go back to where i was on twitter, ie nintendo/shitpost twitter. i should be reblogging on all blogs btw, so yes, to the sonic blog, this means i probably wont be on sonic twitter (they scare me). i also wont post my art because i dont usually remember to use nightshade and i dont want my art to be scraped edit: nvm im on sonic twitter now (also this was posted before the tumblr ai thing)

DEVIANTART! i last posted to DA in june, but used to be a fairly frequent poster. that was only for a few months, though, hence my grand total of 45 deviations. edit: nvm i forgot its own by wix (an isreali company)

TIKTOK! i HAVE a normal tiktok that i havent touched with a 5m pole since july. im not linking it because the reason i stopped using it is because kids from school kept finding me and if i linked an account where kids from school found me, creeps could find me. the one linked is currently private and has never been used before. i do actually like tiktok, despite its flaws! and the sonic community ISNT a cesspit! in all honesty, to me, tiktok feels like high-effort tumblr, which is what it basically used to be for me before i stopped using it (and you can kinda make a 'text post' with a nice picture and some text with a song in the background anyway).

YOUTUBE (?)! i DO have a jupitercl0uds channel but i mostly use my main, bluniverse, for some reason. idk its youtube its not much of a social media anymore

DISCORD! yeah my discord is jupitercl0uds i still use dc i cant really make any comments its discord you know how it is

[syntia13treeman]

Case files 08.01

what I think happened in:

Case 08.01,

the case of "Time of the Hungry Architecture" or "There are no missing persons in Forton Service Station."

Ok, I've had twinges of suspicion in some earlier episodes, but now it's a certainty. There are some Time Shenanigans afoot! Not time travel per se, but time asynchronicity for sure.

But let us start at the beginning, with Terrance Stevens (51) who recently went through a messy divorce, lost most of his friends in the process, and rather than going down the rabbit hole of workaholism/alcoholism/etc, decided to practice some self-care. He ditched his high-stress job in finances and became a janitor (less money but also less stress), and for a bit of intellectual challenge he enrolled in a university course. Good for you, my dude!

Downside of this – I imagine there are not many opportunities to bond with co-workers at a service station, and most if not all his fellow students are bound to be half his age, so he likely didn't make any new friends to replace the old ones. This is important, because I believe that lack of connections made him extra vulnerable to the spookies.

As Terrance later explained in his paper, his new place of employment, Forton Services, can be considered a site of brutal liminalism (TM). It's a cold and uninviting place, where there is a constant stream of people who want to be somewhere else, and where time has little to no meaning (open 24/7 and not a clock in sight).

In a place like this, reality might start to wear a little bit thin. Time and space might get a little bit warped. A little bit distorted. And not a little bit hungry.

And Terrance, lonely, sad and isolated Terrance, looked like a perfect meal.

It crept up on him over the course of few days. Without ever realising, he was being pulled somewhere else for increasingly long periods of time. (From his point of view, it seemed like there were less people around. There weren't. Terrance just didn't see most of them, because he wasn't there). It kept happening, until the fateful night, when Terrance phased out of reality for good. (For awhile).

Where did he go? Someplace almost here but not quite, where time was just a little bit out of sync with ours. Not by much. Just enough that the people and cars moving around started looking to him like a colourful blur. (Like stepping into a time-lapse picture).

Spooked by the (seeming) absence of people and strange visuals, Terrance ran right into the waiting trap elevator (defunct here, but working there). He was greeted by a too thin woman with name-tag that wasn't actually name-tag (it read You Are Here). She took him up to the (not)functioning restaurant at the top of the Pennine Tower (20m high).

There, in what seemed to be a 60s themed restaurant, he saw a crowd of people* who looked like they were AI generated (with key prompt words being thin&malnourished) sitting at the tables, not-eating and not-chatting. The chef, wearing another 'you are here' name-tag greeted him with a cheerful "You are here! Stay awhile!"

As first reaction, Terrance moved to sit at a nearby table.** (Everyone turned to watch).

As second reaction, Terrance showed admirable self-preservation instinct and tried to get the hell out of there. Sadly the door he'd entered through weren't there any more, the windows, he just noticed, were empty holes leading into black nothingness, and all the 'guests' moved to grab him, repeating after the chef: "Stay awhile!" (It was not a greeting this time. Nor was it a request).

After this, things escalated quickly. The hungry crowd closed in on Terrance and started biting him (the chef munched one of his fingers whole). Not quite ready to become dinner, Terrance punched and kicked his way free and with no hesitation jumped out the not-window.

Somewhere between the window-hole and hitting the ground, he re-entered the normal timestream, and some kind soul called in paramedics to treat his injuries. Which, for the record, were classified as fall damage by said paramedics and I find it either sus or hilarious. Sirs, these are bite-marks. How many teeth does your average building/pavement have? (To be fair, maybe the hungry crowd didn't master the teeth just yet. Maybe they need to take an anatomy course or something).

It is unclear how much time passed here while Terrance was NOT-here. It wasn't the Rip Van Winkle's 'one nap = 20 years', since he managed to submit his paper the same year it was assigned, but it was apparently long enough that he felt that someone should have reported him as missing. The fact that no-one did can have two explanations:

Very mundane if sad 'no-one cares about you enough to notice your extended absence, buddy'.

Part of the Pennine Tower's whole thing is that people who were pulled in-there are not remembered out-here, at least for as long as they remain in-there. A good hunting strategy, actually. If you were an immobile ambush predator, you wouldn't want potential pray to realize that fellow humans die here, would you.

To finish the story - Terrance immediately quit his janitor job, rationalized his experience as psychotic episode brought about by bad influence of hostile architecture, wrote a paper about it (submitted 12 July 2023 - late; failed) and, hopefully, moved on with his life.

Things of note:

*This is the second time we were introduced to a group of nameless, copy-pasted not-quite-people, prone to repeating cheerful, positive phrases. Colour me intrigued.

**I wonder what would have happened if Terrance took his place at the table. Maybe even tried some food he was offered. Was he always going to end up as the main course, or would he be assimilated, turned into one more thin, hungry guest, forever waiting for a new meal to walk in the door?

I keep going back and forth between 'the tower is a predator that creates human-facsimiles as part of its digestive system' and 'the not-people made the tower their home because they liked the brutalism vibe (or it was just a convenient spot)'.

I rather hope we'll see the Pennine Tower again. It's such a distinctive landmark. And the land is definitely marked.

There sure are a lot of mentions of hunger and food in this podcast, eh? Wonder what could it mean.

[die-rosastrasse]

Sometimes, when we create we have to let go of the reception of what we have created.

I write fanfiction. 10-20 years ago, people would always review/comment. It was instant gratification. Lately, if I can ger one comment for a chapter of 10'00-2 000 words, I am grateful. People's behaviour with "free" or eas of access art has deteriorated. It's too much effort to show appreciation even if we feel it.

I focus on my joy of writing. Hoping that someone will be moved by my words but focusing on my own pleasure of wroting exactly what I want to read. If someone likes it : great. If not, well I'm enjoying my own writing.

I hope you find equal joy and satisfaction in the act of creation.

You create a lot of beauty and dreams... may you never stop.

Hi! First of all, thank you for reaching out. People never do, which is part of why I feel so resented by the world. Thank you for your kind words and a very well articulated message, which I absolutely agree with. I'm glad I'm not the only one who is noticing how beauty, photographs and creations have become quick, mass produced, single-use and lost in a sea of thousand new posts coming every second. I see that this is where the world is heading more and more, with AI "art", reposting stolen pictures or rewriting yourself to fit some aesthetic, and that makes me so scared for the future. And also, makes me even more motivated to spend more time on creating than on consuming, and being very peculiar about what I consume and how much. I understand your words about focusing on the joy and satisfaction of creating itself, it's the most important thing for me too, even it sounded like it's not. It's my favorite feeling right now: the need to create, paint, write, collage, take every single piece of myself and make something out of it with my hands. It's so beautiful and gratifying in itself and I'm at a point in my life when it's really all I want to do with my time. And I'm proud of my works anyway, I know I'm getting better for myself, I love the feeling of inspiration and I try to keep myself in this state as long as I can. The joy of making something is why I do what I do, nothing else is necessary and my private world is complete without approval of anyone else. But every once in a while, I remember that maybe if we put ourselves out there, someone will listen and sharing the beauty that we found or that we tried to make is the most normal, valid human emotion. And this, showing my precious pieces I made with adoration, and meeting not with hate, not love, but indifference, makes me want to throw up, go inside a hole and never go out. Why is that so hard? Why was I perfectly content with my work when it was just mine, but sharing it with others suddenly makes me hate it, no matter if it was well received or not? I will forever be creative because that's who I am in the depths of my soul and honestly I don't want to share my life with anybody now. But this feeling will always come again, the need to leave something after me, have some kind of legacy. Or simply inspire somebody and receive the same energy that I put in the world, or meet a single person who would give it some time, consciousness, curiosity. I don't know how to balance between hiding my world just for myself and the need to scream about it to everyone who would listen. I don't think there is a balance, just the terrible feeling of missing something on both sides. The inability to have it all is the reason for my crisis.

[slytherinsomniari]

The Beastmaster’s Secret| San Bakar x F! Reader

Pairing: San Bakar x F! Reader

Summary: A while after the battle for the final repository, an unexplained form of magic is cast and the Keepers mysteriously have human form once more. One of these Keepers has had his eye on you for a while and is certainly not going to waste this opportunity and let you get away. 

Word Count: 2973

Themes: Smut, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Teasing, Masturbation, Underage, Teacher-Student Relationship

A/N: Okay so I’ve explained before but I do not have any sexual experience so if I have depicted the sex and the position incorrectly, I deeply apologize. All I did was look at a diagram/picture of what it would look like and used my imagination. I also apologize for the long wait. I haven’t really been inspired to write for a bit and have become addicted to character ai instead lol I know this fic is probably disappointing since I’m not sure if it is perfectly finished but I wanted to get it out. Maybe I will go back and add things later but for now, here it is.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hogwarts has become an interesting place lately–and that’s saying something. While the school was normally magical and exciting, the most recent event that had occurred was by far one of the most intriguing things to have happened. The Keepers who had been paintings in the Map Chamber were given human form once again. It was an odd bit of magic; no one knew how they came to life but one day they had emerged from the Map Chamber and that was that. Once they got used to the feeling, they began to use this wondrous opportunity to walk around the school, observing classes and exploring the castle and its grounds. They wanted to see how Hogwarts had changed since their time and what kind of magic was being practiced there. On their walks around the castle, every time you saw them you felt like you were being watched. You couldn’t pinpoint the source of this feeling at first as you tended to look away, but one day you happened to look at them and found that Professor Bakar was the one who had been looking at you the entire time. His sharp gaze followed you every time he saw you. You never knew what he wanted, but you knew that for whatever reason, Professor Bakar had his eyes on you. 

Returning from your last class one day, you walk through an empty corridor and find the man himself waiting for you. He approaches you swiftly, cornering you before you have the chance to come up with an excuse to run or walk past him. Eyes boring into you, he places his hand on your shoulder and brings his mouth to your ear, saying in a low voice, “Meet me in the abandoned room on the sixth-floor corridor at midnight.”

The message was quick but his tone left no room for questions. He resolutely walked away from you, leaving you to confusedly walk back to your common room and prepare. Attempting to distract yourself, you focus on doing your coursework that was due and pass the time. Time passes by and soon it is pretty close to the meeting time so you begin to get ready. Your corset had been hurting you since you wore it for a long time and likely didn’t lace it properly due to laziness, so you opted not to wear it, hoping he wouldn’t be able to notice. The imminent meeting made you incredibly nervous but you left, not knowing why you were meeting the professor to begin with. You arrive at the abandoned classroom and go inside. The classroom is medium-sized and while abandoned looks practically as good as new. 

“Professor Bakar? Are you here?” You look around, eyes scanning the room for him but you are unable to find him. You walk more towards the middle of the room and are about to sit down by a wall when you feel a presence behind you. Your distracted eyes move towards the presence and standing in front of you is Professor Bakar. He wears his usual unreadable expression but his eyes have a seriousness that makes you freeze up. The door closes suddenly, startling you.

“Professor Bakar, why did you call me here?” You question, getting a little nervous. 

“I have a task I need you to complete, Y/N. It is of the utmost importance.”

A bit confused, you reply, “What is it? What is this task you want me to complete?”

“There have been many distractions lately, and that is unacceptable. Every time I stroll through the grounds I see this…distraction. I need to get rid of it forever. Or rather, I need to punish the one causing the distraction. I need to punish you.”

You give him a look of confusion, not comprehending what he had just said. Before you could fully come up with a response, he moves his hand and tilts your head up, making you face him. His eyes bore down upon you, filled with intent and desire. He places his lips on yours, moving them in a leisurely way. Soft lips mesh themselves with your plump lips in a way that feels timeless. You melt into the kiss, letting him control your movements. It was something so simple and yet it put you in a hypnotic trance. Your guard was lowered completely, enabling him to do what he did next. 

His fingers go from your chin down to your collarbone, from there tracing downwards to your chest. Your heart pounds in your chest and you can’t believe what is happening. His finger hits the top button and he hooks it, bringing it down and unbuttoning your shirt. Your breasts are exposed as the shirt unfurls and he drinks in the sight of them. He grabs your shirt and pulls it off your shoulders, his hands touching your bare skin in a long caress before the shirt abruptly falls to the ground.

“You will do as you are told. If I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it. I do not want to repeat myself.” The glare you receive is both unnerving and so god damn hot. Fuck. I don’t know what's going on anymore but please, please just take me now sir. 

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

As a small treat, he grabs your breasts and toys with them, flicking his thumbs over your nipples as he massages you with his fingers. With each touch, your eyesight becomes blurry and your face becomes flushed. You wonder how he is so easily able to make you fold but the thought is thrown out as he riles up your senses even more. With each gentle touch, each grope, he pulls you further and further away from rational thought. When you are far enough, he makes his next move, certain that you would collapse under his trained hand just like a beast he’s breaking in for training.

“Remove your underwear.” You comply, letting them slide off your legs before you toss them aside.

He moves behind you and slides his hand underneath your skirt, gliding it down your body until it hits your clit. A slight pulsing begins in your nether region, not going unnoticed by your professor. He pulls you against him, keeping you there with one hand on your waist. Purposefully, he slowly traces his finger across one side of your clit, moving in a back and forth motion. His touch is as delicate and tantalizing as the persona he created for himself. While he was kind and caring on the outside, it appeared he had a hidden dark side–one that you just happened to draw out. The feeling of his finger on you elicits from you a shudder and a whimper. 

His finger moves to the other side and does the same motion. You want him to insert himself into you–fingers or otherwise–but so far he refuses to. Instead, he prefers teasing you agonizingly slowly, watching as you begin to subconsciously beg for his touch. He begins rubbing circles on your clit, moving at an even, leisurely tempo. The feeling is amazing, sending soft ripples of pleasure throughout your body. Whimpers come out more freely now as you begin to buckle under his expert fingers. 

His fingers jam into you with sudden force and immediately slow down as he sensually moves them around, knowing the exact spots to stop at and tease. The contradictory nature of the forces cause you to let out a mixture of a mewl and an astonished grunt as you flung your head back into his chest. Your breasts heave and your breathing becomes staggered as he pumps his fingers into you. Bucking your hips into his fingers, you submit your body to his highly experienced will and touch. One, two, three. Every time he inserts his fingers in you it's heavenly. Inserting a mixture of three fingers, he toys with you as he enters you. The effect he is having on you strengthens and he brings it to the next level.

“Outstretch your arm.” You do so, slowing your grinding down to await your orders.

“Touch yourself.”

Mute, you do as he says and put your hand through the waistband of your skirt and reach down to your clit. Once there, you begin rubbing it slowly, turning yourself on with your own fingers. It should have felt odd to be aroused by your own touch, but the thought never crossed your mind. It just felt pleasurable. In a moment you did not dream of, Bakar moves his hand to the opposite side, tending to it while you stroked the other side. A new sensation is produced at the double touch, and, following his lead, you stroke and plunge your fingers into yourself in alternating movements that compliment his. Drool pools down the side of your mouth and dribbles down your face as a result of your increased need for him. You can only get out short high-pitched whimpers, too overstimulated to do anything else. Body tightening, you cry out as you release onto both of your guys’ fingers. 

Cum runs down your trembling legs, coating them with the sticky substance. The feeling of it on your thighs makes you feel so good. But it’s not enough. You needed more. You needed him in you and you wanted your body to swallow his cum.

“Professor,” You pant, “More. Give me more, please.”

Removing your skirt, he takes a long look at you. You were in the perfect condition now. Your body was loosened up and you had no control over your senses anymore. You could now be impregnated by him. This is what he had been waiting for ever since he saw you. He knew you were the one when you blessed his eyes with your perfect childbearing hips and your innocent personality. He had to have you–had to seduce you and plug your body up with his cum. 

Showing his true aim, his nature changes and he becomes much more aggressive. He throws you down, making you land on your hands and knees and you grunt upon impact. Gingerly, you inspect your hands and knees. It’s definitely going to leave a mark but you don’t care. You just wanted him.

“Lie down and get on your knees.” 

Shaking and in heat, you obey your senses and get into position, placing your arms on the ground and your ass in the air. Bakar’s gaze pierces you as he silently watches you, making you wait for him. Eventually he removes his pants and begins removing the rest of his clothing. You aren’t allowed to see him–to see him reveal his body–and cannot tell when he is coming to you. He feels powerful with the knowledge that only he will be able to tell when he will strike. You are at his complete mercy. 

He kneels down and places himself over you in a dominant position. He grabs your hair roughly, forcing you to cry out and pushes himself into you. A surprised “Oh!” comes out of you, making you melt into the ground as he forcefully thrusts himself into you. You wanted to hold onto him as he fucked you but he had other plans. He wanted to dominate you, to control you as he got rid of his pent up desire for you. He would only stop once he was satisfied, so all you could do is lie there and take it.

You didn’t care anymore and let out loud moans every time he thrust into you. The hand holding your hair pulled with the increasing pace, creating tension from both ends. There isn’t much you can do from such a submissive position, but you try your hardest to help him go deep inside you. You grind your ass into him and try to go along with his thrusts but he just forces you down even more and makes you sit and do nothing as he takes you from behind. He was going to get what he wanted and he wouldn’t let you even make a move until he was satisfied with his control. Despite it being so forceful, you enjoyed it immensely. The feeling of his cock as he violently pushed himself into you over and over again was absolute heaven. He went deep inside you and your walls were clinging onto him for dear life. 

He bends down and places alternate soft and hard kisses all across your back and finds a spot on your side, creating a hickey on it. It would become one of many markings he made on you. He liked to mark you and show everyone who you belonged to. In time, you would grow to love it as well. The onslaught continues and you can feel your body growing tighter and tighter, as if it will explode. Soon after that, your peak hits you completely and your body tells you it’s ready. You arch your back and let out, 

“Oh, fuck Professor.”

Your orgasm hits and you feel a warmth as your cum leaks out onto you. You feel so satisfied and would feel complete, but there was only one problem. While you have released, Bakar has not. Not satisfied, Bakar continues his rough treatment of you in pursuit of the completion of his pleasure. Yanking your hair, he declares, “We aren’t done yet. Be a good little whore and take me like you mean it.”

“I’m sorry sir. Please, screw me as hard and as long as you like.” You groan in unconcealed delight.

You let out extraordinarily loud moans as his thrusts become very forceful and animalistic. The sheer force took away all forms of thought and communication and all that would come out were tortured, aroused moans. It honestly should have hurt you. It should have made you cry out in pain but all it did was make you throb and moan in ecstasy. You would not be able to walk after this, but this was exactly what he wanted. All of this was to make you realize what you have been doing to him. He just kept pounding into you relentlessly, only focused on pleasing himself and on how good you felt around him as he took you for all your worth. 

He came into you as you had your third orgasm, by then your body had started to shake and you had fully become his whore at that point. His load was long and heavy, his seed far more potent than you realized. He had withheld his cum for this moment, unleashing his massive load into you. You moved him further into you, wanting every single part of it. The feeling of his sperm hitting you on the inside was heavenly. It felt so right, you didn’t want the feeling to end. You were his prized beast, so you wanted to make sure you took him properly. All of you belonged to him, including your cunt. Your hole wasn’t filled all the way yet and you didn’t want to stop until he used you properly.

You mewl quietly, “Fill me with every last drop. Breed me like one of your beasts until I explode.”

Bakar continued thrusting at that, increasing his speed even more and making sure his semen went deep inside you. With that comment, you agreed to be his personal whore. He would make sure you knew what exactly that meant for the rest of your life. 

He kept you in there for hours afterwards, fucking you regardless of whether or not you could take it and spilling every last bit of himself into you like you had asked. You had lost track of how many orgasms you had, but you knew it was too many to count. Following every order, you lost your mind in the multitude of ways he ravaged you. He always took you rough–he liked it like that and you grew to love it and wanted to please him. Your body was full of his seed, so much so that it spilled out. Your belly swelled with his gift and you were so grateful, rubbing it and hoping you were just as fertile as he was. He wanted you to be his and his alone, so he took every last bit of his cum and shoved it into your ravaged cunt. While he did want you to have as many children as possible, what he really liked was seeing how your belly swelled with his seed every time he came in you. 

The fun eventually came to an end but only for that day. From then on, Professor Bakar would visit you almost every day, roughing you up and filling you to the brim just as you begged him to. His need for you was so great that for a lot of times, he would take you in recently abandoned classrooms. The danger of being caught excited you both and quite honestly you wanted to be known as his cumslut. You never silenced yourself, rather you moaned loudly and opened yourself to him so he could fill you in the time you had before your next class. He had made you so dependent on him for pleasure and made you crave sex so much so you soon began seeking him out multiple times a day yourself. Suffice it to say, you were bred so many times by your professor that you got pregnant soon after the visits started. Pleased with your condition, he moved you into his renovated tower and from then on you lived there, being filled to your bursting point with his cum every day and giving birth to the many children he placed inside you. You had become tamed by the beastmaster, trapped forever in his tower of pleasure. And you loved it.

[all-the-pacs]

#2 - Pac-Man (1980)

If you put a conch shell up to your ear, you'll hear Pac-Man! Much less popular is putting your finger in your ear and scratching it to hear the sea.

Welcome to the 1980s, and for that matter, welcome to the genesis of Pac-Man himself! Yep, it only took us... 3 posts, but we're actually playing the original Pac-Man. No preamble, no Galaxian, no nothin'.

Now, the development of the original Pac-Man is something so, so many people have talked at length about and may as well have made their thesis. Stuff like how originally the four ghosts were all the same color, or maybe the maze being different, or other such details.

Now, that's way out of our jurisdiction as we're here to play the finished games and talk about them at length--however iconic they may be. So, our apologies in advance as this post sounds a lot like stuff you've most likely already heard thousands of times. But if we skipped this game on the principle of "we've already played it many, many times", it wouldn't feel right, y'know?

...So anyways we would like to remark that, yes, the flyer we showcased is to be trusted, and we are playing the Midway version today. Why not the Japanese original? Well, there's one good reason that's tangentially related to what we discussed above:

Yep, over in Japan, he started out as Puck Man, not Pac-Man. In fact, that's not the only character name difference, as the ghost gang were also called by completely different names in this version as well. Later on, however, as Pac-Man exploded in popularity worldwide, eventually Puck Man also turned into Pac-Man over in Japan as well. It's probably for the best, too, because remove just a little connecting line in that P, and you get a very different experience.

The starting screen for Pac-Man is about as basic as you get. 10 points for normal pellets. 50 points for the blinking Power Pellets (not pictured, as they were mid-blink). 4 characters in addition to Pac-Man, with their personalities (their "character", if you may) and nicknames displayed.

Blinky: The "shadow" of the group. He tries his best to be Pac-Man's shadow by simply targetting wherever he is, plain and simple. He likes the top right corner.

Pinky: The "speedy" one of the group. Always one step ahead, she's... well, aiming for a little bit ahead of where Pac-Man currently is. She likes the top left corner.

Inky: The "bashful" part of the group. As you can probably imagine, he doesn't care much for targetting Pac-Man alone, usually paying attention to where Blinky is and where Pac-Man is directly headed towards and making his move if Blinky's also in hot pursuit. Multi-faceted, that Inky. He likes the bottom right corner.

Clyde: The "pokey" member of the group. He doesn't really try to go for Pac-Man directly, more than he does try to play goalie for his own little portion of the maze, only dipping away from it to try and take a quick swing. He likes the bottom left corner.

You might notice I'm going into their behaviors in addition to their characters, and... Well, that's for a good reason. While Galaxian was content to have enemies act more-or-less the same way beyond two of them employing a buddy system and having slightly differing flight patterns, Pac-Man's true revolution was that it was the start of what we now know as AI in terms of gaming.

Before now, it was almost unheard of for enemies in a game to be able to look at the immediate state of the game, and react accordingly and consistently, with most early attempts at this being very rudimentary, or involving some form of turn-based. This was the first big game where enemies would respond to your inputs in real time, and man do we take that for granted nowadays.

Anyways, that start screen is similarly incredibly simple. Just one extra life like in Galaxian, but at least in this case, the scoring is a lot more dynamic than it is in Galaxian--so, y'know, it's actually possible to get it! (We jest, we jest. But we do honestly feel like in comparison to Galaxian's requirements for an extra life being way too high, Pac-Man's is a bit too low. Literally all it took was one run where we focused more on actually playing the game than grabbing screenshots for this project for us to get it trivially.)

We're gonna be real with you--from this point on, a lot of our observations are probably gonna be real banal sounding, because we've basically gone over a lot of the more complex stuff (albeit skimming over it, admittedly.) But on the extreme off-chance you aren't aware, yes, the gameplay of Pac-Man involves you being put in the center of a symmetrical maze with two tunnels to the left and right. You're able to go through those tunnels in order to circle back around to the other side of the maze. Across the maze are a bunch of little pellets/dots, as well as four Power Pellets/Energizer Pellets/Flashing Power Bait/Gaaaaah okay let's talk a little bit about this in a bit, but all you need to know is you need to eat all the dots in the maze to win the level. If the ghosts make contact, you die, and you lose a life.

Now, this is something we will make a pointed mention of now. At the start of Pac-Man, you start by moving left by default. Left! Keep this in mind for later. It will be very, very important. ...Not for this game, though, we'll only really start to care about starting by moving left later. Much later, depending on how things go.

Oh, and while we're here--if you eat a certain quantity of pellets, a Bonus Fruit will spawn in the center, right below the Ghost pen. Eat it for extra points--the higher the round, you'll be seeing different bonus fruits, and they'll be worth more and more points, up to 5000! Yep, much like most other Arcade games of the era, it's a simple "get the highest score" deal, with no finite "end" defined by the game itself. (If you're raising an eyebrow, don't worry, we'll get back to you.)

And of course, we couldn't talk about this game without talking about the Power Pellets/other names. Of course, with four enemies that all behave differently in hot pursuit, you need a little something to combat them to keep it fair. You can always outmaneuver them, but alternatively you can grab one of the four Power Pellets in the maze. By grabbing them, the ghosts will not only turn around immediately, but turn blue and try to avoid Pac-Man for a limited time. If you actually touch a ghost in this state, Pac-Man will gobble them up, leaving just their eyeballs to wander back to the ghost pen, where they will reappear as normal. This is already a great tactic for survival, but there's also a risk-reward element; the more ghosts you eat, the more points you get. 200 for the first, 400 for the second, 800 for the third, and 1600 for the fourth! Note this stacks upon itself, so if you manage to eat all 4 ghosts in one Power Pellet, you're looking at 3000 points right there.

...Oh, right. Real quick, let me get back to you on the whole "Power Pellet" naming confusion thing. See, early on, Arcade games weren't exactly powerful to display full-on information about the games just yet. Usually that'd be saved for being on the actual cabinet itself, on the sides of the screens. As a result, basically anything not in the actual game data itself was heavily, heavily susceptible to inconsistent names. The pellets didn't have a name in-game, so in the future they'd get all sorts of names, officially and unofficially. Let's just agree to call the small ones pellets and the large ones Power Pellets for the time being, okay?

Also, here's a detail some people don't know--the ghosts aren't just, all-the-time in pursuit according to their AI. On some occasions, usually at the very start of a round, they'll instead beeline for their respective corners. From there, they'll alternate between chasing after Pac-Man and playing goalie for their respective corners of the maze. This is part of what makes the ghosts seem so "erratic" in this game, as one moment they will directly target you, and the next moment they will disregard everything and instead head right for their respective patrol points.

You might be asking what happens if you eat all the pellets, and usually, it's pretty underwhelming. The maze blinks between blue and white, and then the maze resets anew, marking your progress by showing the Bonus Fruit of the current level on the rightmost spot.

Of course, something happens if you beat enough levels, unlike in Galaxian...

The Intermissions! If you clear certain rounds, the game will play these little skit cutscenes featuring Pac-Man and Blinky, set to a repeating jingle. After this, the game starts another round as you'd expect it to. The first intermission is fairly standard, with nothing much to say on it.

The second intermission, however... Is perhaps a little confusing. Maybe another one will clear things up?

Oh! While we're over here, we might as well bring this up. The first few bonus fruit are indeed fruit--Cherries, Strawberries, Oranges, Apples, then Melons--but then after those, the bonus fruit get a little more... esoteric. For example, after melons are the Flagship from Galaxian! What do you suppose that tastes like, anyways? Not pictures is that after this is a Bell, and then after that is a Key. As in, like, a standard key for a padlock! After the key, there's no change in both visuals and point values, it's just keys for days. This is also exactly why we even bothered talking about Galaxian, by the way.

As for that last intermission...

...Well then! Talk about a good ol' case of early installment weirdness, huh?

Okay, it's worth mentioning that originally, Namco and Bally Midway very insistently referred to the Ghost gang as "Monsters". Not Ghosts. Presumably, this was to cover the truth all along that the ghosts... Weren't ghosts at all! Instead, they had these weird slug designs.

However, uh, very few people actually called them monsters. People were content to just call them ghosts because, well, it moves like a ghost, it looks like a ghost, it makes a weird little "wheww-wheww" like a ghost might, they were ghosts! It seems like this concept of them secretly being these weird slug-like creatures was scrapped very early on, as we think the idea that they are very specifically ghosts crops up as early as the mid-80s--and when they did that, Namco never looked back. They didn't quite give up on the name "Monsters" so soon, and as we'll see in a bit, this didn't stop them from allowing some strange non-ghostly depictions of these guys very early on, but this angle definitely didn't last very long. Quite funny, seeing as this is basically as close to a "plot twist" the game has to offer!

Now, some of you who are aware of glitches in video games might've heard us mention the game goes on forever and hold contention with that. And to be truthful--there is, indeed, a glitch that prevents the game from lasting forever. But we've made the executive decision to discuss that at a later date. There's two reasons for that:

There's something much, much later down the road that expressly relies on knowing about this glitch anyways.

This post is going on long enough, and we think discussion of that belongs in its own post, so it can have the gravitas it deserves.

So, for the time being, we wait on it. Sorry!

...Besides, next time, we've got something much sillier. Believe it or not, this is the only 1980 game they released. Really! It took a moment for Pac-Man to really simmer and take off, and so join us next time for the start of 1981. And, uh... Not to spoil anything, but you know how we said we only brought up Galaxian because of this game? Weeeell... We might've lied a little bit...

Oh yeah. Those familiar with bootlegs might have just had a siren go off in their brain, and we're goin' there. We're already invoking our "notable bootlegs are fine" stipulation. Whether you're familiar or not, however, we'll be seein' you around!

[pbandjesse]

It was wildly wildly wildly hot today. 105 degrees on the thermometer on our car. It's crazy and did not lead to the nicest day. But I tried my best to be positive and I only threw my phone once.

I had a lot of fun with James last night. But we were able to sleep pretty well. Just not enough. And waking up was incredibly difficult. Like I was up but at what cost??

We would gather all of our selves and our stuff and headed out. It was nice being together but I was just so tired and unhappy. James had made me at home hash browns so I had that in the car. And we would arrive at the museum right around 740.

James carried my box and I carried my table. The strap broke off the box though and the box landed on their foot. Their poor foot.

I would set up and felt like I was moving so slowly. I was struggling. But I also had to be in charge. James brought me a sign in sheet to keep track of the vendors that arrived. We had a few new ones today. I hope that they did well despite how heavy the weather was.

It would get warmer and warmer. My only saving grace being the breeze off the water. I was tired and hot but at least I was in a good mood.

I would make a few sales. But mainly I was focusing on telling people about the free workshop this friday. Im excited that people who may not normally be able to afford to take art classes might join me. I hope people take my up on the offer.

I would mainly knit. And have conversations. I bought cherries and peaches. James came out and we would get baked goods. And I would thoroughly enjoy my breakfast muffin and pop tart. And have excellent conversations about education and hard skills. It was a fun day despite the outrageous heat.

Because I was worried about the heat and the vendors we decided that we would start packing up at noon. But there was much time to go until then.

I would text with Jess. Which would be in the hospital for the entire day. But they may have a plan for treatment and I really hope it helps.

I would also be texting my dad to try and reach him how to spot AI images. It's hard because the computers are getting so good at creating fakes. But it was fun showing him images and explaining ways to tell. Things being off. Extra fingers and physics that don't make sense. We also just had some nice conversations about life. Love my dad.

At 1230 more then half the vendors had gone. And I decided I could start packing up too. James had gotten be a smoothie and a quesadilla and once I was done eating I would pack up for real. Which never takes long but I was a little woozy from the heat. And had to fix how everything was fitting. It was to much for my overheated brain to handle and I was very close to falling apart. But I got it together and Stanley helped carry the heavy box. And things weren't as bleak. Even if the best was trying to kill me.

I would go inside to cool off. Something I did not let myself do all morning in fear that it would be to hard to leave the cold. And I was very right. Once I was inside I washed off my face and put new cold water on my bandana. And kissed on James and bought a bar of soap and chilled until after 1. Once all the other vendors had left.

I would say goodbye to James and went to check on the mice Mexican ladies, as they were still there. But they were getting ready to leave too and had all the kids and grandmas in the car with the AC on.

And that is what I did too. I would blast the AC for a minute while I was outside taking pictures. And it wasn't so unbearable once I got in and headed home.

I would be back by 2. And while I was so happy to be home, it wasn't as cool in here as I had hoped. But I would take a cool shower and put on a loose shirt and laid down.

And slept hard. I wouldn't wake up until James was home at 5. And even then they left me until 530 just dozing. But while the sleep will be good for me in the long run, I was so miserable.

But despite how miserable James would take me to target to get the things I wanted for camp. The little lost of foods and snacks. We also needed a lot of cat stuff.

We would be in line for a long time but it was fine. I was happy to be in the AC even if i was miserable. I asked if we could please go to a restaurant to eat. I wanted fountain soda.

So after we paid James drove us home and left me in the running car so they could take the food in. And then we were off to fells point to go to Alexander's Tavern.

James did an excellent job parking in a very tight alley spot. We walked to the restaurant which was only a block and a half away. James suggested we could walk on the water after dinner and I was like are you insane? I don't even want to walk to the restaurant! But dinner was good. We had some confusion about where we were supposed to go inside. But we figured it out and would have a really nice meal.

We got hush puppies to start. And drinks. And then sandwiches and tator tots. We talked about things that needed to be done. Got excited about James having sunday's off again and projects for the house. I was cooling down and not as miserable. Still tired but it wasn't as bad as it was.

We got home and James would change the kitty litter. And I soaked Crabcake and fed Sweetp and cleaned the frog tank before I fed them too.

James would take a shower and I would soon too. I would become sweaty so quickly. It was terrible. I have moved a fan to the hallway upstairs and our bedroom is fine but I wish it was colder. At least I'm not sweaty anymore.

We are watching a show now. And James has promised me a Popsicle. I am mostly just really excited to sleep.

We are jumping in the harbor tomorrow. And then I have an event to work. It will be a very long day but I am hoping for a good one.

I hope you all sleep well. Take care of eachother. Try and stay cool!

[quibbs126]

So yesterday I was in a bit of a funk, both due to me having bombed my math exam (and probably all my others), and because I wanted to draw but couldn’t figure out what to draw, and anything I was making didn’t look very good. Then I decided, “hey, I have Cookie Run ocs, why not just make a page with them?” And so I did

I was planning on having more sketches, but the drawings were big on my canvas and I couldn’t fit more (I like to keep them roughly the same size

First I wanted to draw Cabbage Rose again, because he’s honestly one of my favorite AI generated cookies, and this time I gave him a redesign, now that I wasn’t constrained by the art generator. Mainly I changed his hair and gave his sword more stuff so that it looked like a regular sword, particularly with the leaves on the end (though to be honest I feel like they ended up looking more like wings). The cape design was giving me difficulty, I probably need to draw it without it fluttering in the wind so I can get a better grasp of it

Also can I just say, I hate the fact that there are colors of his that are close enough that having them both feels unnecessary, but different enough that I can’t change it to one or the other because it looks wrong. I try to have colors repeat themselves to minimize the number of colors and keep it simple, but I can’t do that here and it annoys me

Anyways next up we have the Cacao siblings (and technically the only canon character in this page). I was originally gonna draw Ruby with a more dynamic pose, with her and her brother fighting off beasts, but then I decided instead to have her basically teaching Dark Cacao about how to use a sword, which is what she’s doing here. They’re supposed to be still at the tribe with some swords they had around

I was considering giving her a different weapon to differentiate herself from her brother, so that they don’t seem like just copies, but then I figured that if anyone were to teach Dark Cacao how to use a sword, it would make logical sense for it to be his older sister, especially when they’re living on their own

Also you get a full body reference for Ruby Cacao now

Alright, now let’s move onto the final one, with Blueberry Ice Cream Cookie and Strawberry Jam Cookie (note, I still want to change that name, but I haven’t figured out to what. They’re a Legendary grade, and most Legendaries tend to have names that are either what they are (aka Wind Archer, Fire Spirit, Millennial Tree) or like, what their role is/what they represent (again Wind Archer, Timekeeper, Moonlight?). Technically Strawberry Jam is made of strawberry jam, but that’s still in keeping with normal Cookies, which they aren’t. If anyone has suggestions feel free)

The only major thing I changed here was Blueberry Ice Cream’s sword, the Blueberry Buster Sword. Originally it looked more like the Strawberry Jam Sword, but I wanted to change it because they later consider it be their greatest failure and despise it. So why would they make their perfect creation, the Strawberry Jam Sword, look just like it? I mean it’s still a sword, because that’s what they use, but they wouldn’t make them look so similar. So with this I ended up basing it more on the Final Fantasy Buster Sword, as well as just pictures of broadswords/greatswords, since that’s what the Buster Sword is based on. I was considering moving the gem onto the blade like the FF7 one, but I thought that looked too similar

On one hand, I feel like redesigning Strawberry Jam Cookie, since when I see the Sovereign, I don’t really feel like these two are the same person. But then again, the Sovereign has Dark Choco’s body, so they wouldn’t really look/feel the same, would they?

I was also STRUGGLING with Strawberry Jam’s posing, specifically with the sword. I wanted them to be swinging it high up, but I couldn’t find a good pose to reference that had that, so I had to try and improvise myself. Unfortunately, I didn’t really have a big stick, other than my mop. And a mop isn’t exactly the same as a sword. Not to mention I kept holding like a flag because habit. I feel like it looks like they’re just holding it close to their face, when they’re supposed to be swinging it. Maybe eventually once I figure it out I’ll go back and change it

It was fun drawing them side by side though, since I can definitely see similarities and differences between them, so that you wouldn’t immediately think they’re related, but you can still pick up on similar elements

Another thing, this pose is sort of what I imagine a banner with them would look like. Well I mean not entirely, I’d personally have Strawberry Jam taking up more horizontal space, but something like this. I have this idea in my head of these two being part of like, a Halloween update, and when you see the two on the banner initially, you might think that these two are fighting each other, or Blueberry Ice Cream is having to defend against them in some way. You might also notice that’s the Strawberry Jam Sword and assume this is lore about the original wielder of the SJS and perhaps someone they fought, possibly the one who sealed them in the sword. And once you start their story, things seem to be fine, it’s just introducing our protagonist, Blueberry Ice Cream. But then as the story progresses, you eventually realize that there’s definitely some shady connection between the two, and eventually some to the realization that they are in fact the same person, just at different points in their life, and you watch Blueberry Ice Cream turn into this horrible monster

I say Halloween specifically because it’s supposed to be like a scary story about a good person’s corruption into pure evil, and the fact that it doesn’t end on a good note. Also another way the story might be framed is as a scary story being told to younger Cookies, though it is a true story.

I also imagine that the ending would involve Dark Choco when he was younger. If it’s the storytelling version, at the end of the tale, he asks if this was true, and the narrator’s reply implies to him that it’s not that reliable, and more a story to scare children (even though again the story presented is supposed to be true), so Dark Choco chooses to ignore its warnings and keep seeking the sword out. If the story is a series of flashbacks, then the final cutscene is Strawberry Jam Cookie, in the void of their sword within Dragon’s Valley, having lost all semblance of who they once were, and likely their own humanity (or the Cookie equivalent of that I guess). Then, it hears a voice, and we see a silhouette of young Dark Choco, exclaiming that he finally found the legendary sword, and Strawberry Jam Cookie says something along the lines of (but not this at all) “someone new…he will do nicely…”. We all know what happens from there, but the last thing we see are Strawberry Jam Cookie’s words, so we don’t see the corruption

But yeah, it was fun doing these. To be honest, now I just want to draw more of them

[laatmaar]

S/N: RG-300-459-76-44

Okay so this is the first time I have ever written fanfiction for anything, or even just written any story this long, but fallen hero has quite the death grip on my brain. So truly any advice and such is appreciated. Anyway I'm absolutely fascinated by whatever the regenes and the farm has going on, and this is a little piece exploring sidestep's, or rather Matt's, first mission on the farm. I say little but it has a word count of 3K, be warned. Also be warned that this piece contains somebody being murdered, but nothing too extreme or unusual for fallen hero I think.

You stand before a door. This specific door is quite unassuming, it is brown and the dark patterns of shaky vertical lines interrupted with little ovals signal that it is made of wood. Which makes it quite unlike most doors you are acquainted with, but it is normal here. The door looks exactly like the doors you’ve seen in picture books.  Presumably, to hide anything out of the ordinary, anything horrible, insidious, dangerous, behind a passibly normal exterior. In short, Mr. Brown made it look like all the other doors in this hallway. You like this door. 

If all went well Mr. Brown will now be lying dead on the ground behind this door, and the only thing you will have to do is help unit 44 with disposal of the body. It has been a long day and your body feels heavy, there is a strange empty feeling in your stomach. You do not know what you expected of your first mission, but certainly not feeling so… tired. You place your hand on the doorknob. You turn the doorknob. You open the door.

"Oh, thank God!”

Mr. Brown moves toward you more quickly than you were prepared for. He only stops in his tracks when, presumably, the gun that is quite obviously pointed at his head catches his eye again. Mr. Brown is, evidently, not dead. You close your eyes, breathe out. You open your eyes. Unit 44, who you were quite sure should have killed Mr. Brown some five minutes ago according to the mission parameters you memorized over and over and over and over again, moves towards the door. It makes sure its gun never wavers from its target's head and shuts the door behind you. You hear the click of the door being locked.  

“Look I don’t care what goddamn government agency thought it worth to send a goddamn fucking regene to assassinate me or whatever but-”  Mr. Brown grabs your arm, in his thoughts you find only relief, and pulls you towards him “-surely you’re not programmed to kill innocent civilians.” At this he shakes your arm, which you’ve come to understand is actually quite a rude thing to do.

Unit 44’s face is impassive although the corner of its blue lip might’ve moved upward just a tiny bit. Its gun however has not moved at all. It looks you dead in the eye.

In your ear Mr. Brown whispers “Play along with me and we might both get out of this alive.” He leans even closer and unit 44 does not shoot him in the head. It should. “Trust me on this miss,” still whispering  “that thing is not human… blue skin and all that.” Places his hand on your shoulder, his mind churning with possible escape routes, “It’s a fucking ai but it will not kill us if they think it will cause a scandal… I’m sure.” His thoughts imply otherwise. “Just tell it your parents are nearby or something, I mean what are you sixteen.. seventeen?  Your parents must be nearby.”

You open your mouth to ask why unit 44 has not followed standard procedure, do missions normally deviate this much from the norm? You’re not sure you like the idea of that. Why is it that it has not shot Mr. Brown already, even though it had ample opportunity. His fingers are digging into your shoulder in a way that is really becoming uncomfortable and the desperation and fear in his mind make it difficult to think. You are tired. You remember that you should report to your handlers in about 10 minutes and how does unit 44 think it will ever complete the mission in time. You already relayed all information you gathered from Mr. Brown’s houseguests during the party to your handlers. You’ve already done your part, why is it refusing to just do its part. Why do you have to be part of this. However unit 44 says, “Close your mouth.” and you obey.

Unit 44 is after all the senior unit out of the two of you, and the most senior unit on a mission is in charge in the unlikely event that your handlers cannot be reached. You paid attention during the briefing. Your handlers cannot be reached because Mr. Brown went to great lengths to design this room. Sound-proof, signal-proof , everything-proof. A perfect room designed for complete privacy, something Mr. Brown is often in great need of. You have recently learned what the concept of ironic means and you think that it applies now. That this room should be his downfall, or at least was supposed to be if all went according to plan. If unit 44 had paid attention. It had not. You had seen its eyes wander.

“Killing an innocent human being is sure to cause a scandal!” Mr. Brown’s voice is pitched a bit higher than before, his fingers beginning to dig in painfully. That is going to leave a mark.

Now you’re sure, unit 44’s lips turn upwards. You do not know what it finds particularly funny, or where it even learned to smile. Smirk? Its gun aimed around two inches to the left of your face. At Mr. Brown’s mouth. Which is still moving.

“I know her,” he lies, “if she disappears” shaking you, again “her parents will be sure to raise hell! They’re important. Influential.” Those last words he emphasizes. You’ve learned that people will do this if they mean more than what they are actually saying. You however do not see the relevance or deeper meaning of your imaginary parents being important. His thoughts suggest that not even Mr. Brown is entirely sure what he means. He just needs to stay alive, from one second to the next. He knows he won’t be able to overpower the regene planted in front of the door, but.. he’s not dead yet. It is a miracle that he is not dead yet. You agree.  He is sure that you might be the reason why. He can use that. Talk his way out. He has talked his way out of failure and into success his entire life.

Mr. Brown talks and talks and there are still nine minutes remaining. His grip turning painful, and you just wish your pain gate would activate for more mundane matters than life threatening injuries. You need to finish this. Quickly.

You look at unit 44. Its lean body clad in a skin-tight suit and armour, its stance almost relaxed. Not quite, but almost. The heaviest armour is centered around its chest area, all its appendages left unobstructed. Under the armour the skinsuit peeks out, the black fabric making for a nice contrast against the blue skin of its neck. There continuing from the neck and covering its entire face are those patterns you are so familiar with, this time in a lighter blue instead of orange. All traces of what might’ve been a smile gone from its lips. Its eyes are still looking at you, expression once again completely neutral. It nods and lowers its gun just a bit.

“Restrain him,” it orders “on the floor, preferably.”

 You do not stop to question why unit 44 wants Mr. Brown restrained and not dead. Why it won’t just finish this job. Neatly. According to mission protocol. With a bullet, preferably. You do not question it because some irrational part of you is glad that it has lowered the gun. It might have decided to shift it about two inches to the right. Unit 44, you have suspected for some time, is unpredictable. At least the smile has not returned, that you can admit unnerved you.

Most of all you do not question it because you are glad to move. To take that hand from your shoulder and in one swift movement twist it around his back, kick his legs, push him into the ground, put your knee on his back, the other next to his hip, your free hand on his neck holding him down. This is a move you have practiced a hundred times. It is even easier than expected, normally your partners put up much more of a fight.

Mr. Brown lets out a yelp of surprise and pain. His mind is a potent mix of confusion, betrayal and fear. Mostly fear, there is something very wrong with the picture being painted. He has misinterpreted the situation, badly. But… since when did they put regenes in charge of people.

He makes an attempt at opening his mouth to ask, but you press his face into the ground and that gets the message through. He closes his mouth. On his neck your fingertips press down and the skin turns red. Your own shoulder aches and you squeeze, just a bit.

Unit 44 has moved next to you. Its eyes finally leave you and shift a bit to the right, so that it’s not looking down at you but Mr. Brown instead. Gun pointed to the side. It looks like it's contemplating something but its mental defenses are better than Mr. Brown’s and you are still so tired. Then in a move that should not surprise you as much as it does, it kneels next to you. Nothing should surprise you when it comes to unit 44. Still you cannot help the question forming on your lips when it replaces your hand on Mr. Brown’s neck and hands you the gun. “Well,” it says, and nobody should have taught it to smile. It’s misusing the ability entirely, nothing about this situation is funny. “time is running out. Shoot him.”

You feel your shoulders tense and your right shoulder ache. The gun feels slippery in your hands. The temperature in the room has not risen even a degree since you’ve entered it and yet your hands are sweating. An uncomfortable heat spreading through your body as you look at unit 44, that stupid smile still on its face. Its expression still so calm. Your jaw aches with the effort it takes you to not open your mouth and say something. Anything. Scream. You don’t know.

Eight minutes remaining, and approximately a second has passed since unit 44 gave you the order. Mr. Brown’s thoughts are quickly turning from incomprehension to panic. He struggles under your knee and unit 44’s strong hands. Hurting himself. His panic full blown now, and maybe his thoughts are the reason you can’t seem to think straight on this matter. The fact that your hand is trembling without your input. Mr. Brown should have been dead for ten minutes already. His breathing ragged, and he might be crying. “Goddammit you’re human you don’t have to listen to it!” he screams. You shoot.

There is something unpleasant about the way blood drops roll down your face. You’ve experienced many new situations and sensations today. You don’t want to experience anything else ever again. You want to go home. You never want to leave this room.

For the last minute or so unit 44 has been opening different cabinets and drawers in search of something, you don’t particularly care what for. You have been sitting next to a corpse. His eyes still open, staring at you. You stare back, and in the corner of your eyes you see unit 44 approaching. It hands you a packet of wet wipes and makes a gesture at your face. You obediently wipe your face, your makeup coming off. The lipstick has mixed with blood and turned a bright red, it was supposed to be a neutral colour. Presentable, but not attracting attention. While the other units were putting on armour they had dressed you in a nice off colour white dress, now ruined. They had shaved your face and applied all sorts of cosmetics. You don’t know exactly what. They had made what, you gathered from the laughter, were supposed to be jokes. Something about if only they had prettier models and the money they could make. They had sent you off to a party, and you had completed your task. As unit 44 should have completed its.

It is fiddling with the closure of your dress. At your questioning look it shows you some kind of gel. “For your shoulder,” it clarifies. It has gotten the button open and pulls the zipper down. There in contrast to the bruised skin on your shoulder the orange tattoos appear completely unblemished. Nothing ever damages that familiar pattern. You quickly reach out and close Mr. Brown’s eyes. Unit 44 looks at you for a moment, and you feel your face heat up. It has no right to judge you, but it merely smiles. Blue patterns moving.

It puts some of that translucent gel on your shoulder and, far more gently than you think is medically necessary, begins spreading it out. Looking back you should’ve known something like this would happen. You should’ve known because unit 44 had not been paying attention to the briefing. Because it had looked distracted when putting on armour. Because two days before the mission it had not been as efficient as it could’ve been at training. It had hesitated and you had not let it out of your sight since. You should have known because small disobediences lead to bigger disobediences later on. You lean back, just a bit, into her cool fingers. Its cool fingers. Its blue fingers. The same colour your bruise is beginning to take on, and that was not your thought. You feel sick to the stomach, and you are so tired and you never wanted to have anything to do with this in the first place. You did your job, and so you stand up.

You begin trying to zip up your dress, and you must look like an idiot when you can’t reach the zipper. You take Mr. Brown’s jacket from the desk chair and put that over your shoulders instead. A small burst of panic shoots through you. There are only two minutes remaining.

Your first mission is a complete failure, two minutes isn’t enough time. The blood pools beneath Mr. Brown’s head seeping into the wooden flooring. It is splattered on the walls, and on your dress. On your hands. You do not have enough time to clean it all.

Unit 44 makes no attempt to move from where it’s still seated on the floor. It looks relaxed in the way it’s leaning back on its hands looking at you, observing you. It looks resigned, like it does not care about any of this. Does not care about the consequences of not following mission protocols. Does not care about Mr. Brown lying dead on the floor eleven minutes too late. Does not care about you. You suppose its actions have proven that it doesn’t.

Under your gaze unit 44 finally stands up.

“We have one minute,” it states. “Now tell me exactly, what did it feel like?”

For the first time in quite a while you open your mouth and speak.  

It is only in Dr. Morgan’s office in preparation for your second mission that you dare to subtly ask about unit 44. Of course she knows many unit 44’s, 44 being only the last two numbers of a longer serial number, but she seems to understand which one you’re talking about.

“Hmmm, I get why you would be anxious about working with that particular unit again. After that disaster of a mission last time.” You had known it was a disaster, you had not known everybody else thought so too. “That it would wait to kill that Brown figure for so long, and then to do it so messily too.” It had taken the fall, you had suspected as much. “I had already said to Marcus there is something wrong with that unit. He even acknowledged it in that irritating way he always does, but actually listen? No. Never.” 

She is not truly talking to you, merely monologuing to herself and you are an unfortunate victim. This is why you asked her. She likes hearing herself talk, and her colleagues do not like listening. 

“He was all like let’s see where this goes. It would be a shame to have to start over again, blah blah blah. I said the nice thing about regenes is that we get to start over again. Its body is young and we can simply reuse it. Let’s just get it over with, but no. One more mission.” You wonder how many units had heard her complain about this in the days preceding the mission. Whether unit 44 might’ve. “So one disaster of a mission later and now it’s been decommissioned all the same. Marcus still won’t admit I was right though. Asshole.”

Unit 44 is dead. She walks over to you and injects something in your upper right arm. The bruise on your shoulder has healed faster than a normal human bruise would. You’re beginning to miss it.

“Well anyway its chip has been taken apart, and you won’t have to worry about ever working with it again. Sounds good?”

There is something ugly and sour rising in your throat. You force your face in approximation of a gentle smile and nod.

Later when you’re in the dorms lying on your stomach on your bed, you wait and listen. It is deep in the night and you’ve waited very patiently until you’re sure that most of the others are asleep. Or at least that the ones still awake are not paying any attention to you. You’re pretty sure you look convincingly asleep, you have not moved an inch in two hours. Your telepathy is not as strong as others, so you play defense instead.

In your mind you open the door. Step into the room. Lock the door behind you (unit 44 is not there to pick up the slack anymore). Check the room for anything unusual (ignore the body). Feel your own body on the mattress, muscles relaxing. Keep at it for another two hours. Convince yourself you have obtained some fraction of privacy. Some fraction of Mr. Brown’s room, his dead eyes never having left you. Only then, when you’re balancing on the edge of consciousness just about to fall asleep, do you allow yourself to imagine; her blue fingers spread out against your shoulder.

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

i’m so sorry, i got lost in the ‘tarot readers’ saga. so we have the deleted acc in the past of the tarot reader who was a normal person, right? (1 person). + we have the other tarot reader who can’t envelop the fact that evan and nat date? (2 person). + we have others tarot readers who are arguing with others on this matter about ev and nat? (2+ more persons)?? this shit is much more complicated for me than evan’s relationships in general 🗿🗿🗿

Here's what I gather:

We had the OG tarot blog and it was either run by two admin or one person that had a friend come in and run it with her. They would do readings on here as well. They seemed levelheaded when they were on here. Then, the Rosa incident happened and it caused them to close that blog down. So this is two admins/two readers.

The secondary tarot admin has been on their blog and interested in Tarot, so they encouraged her to start reading and she formed the secondary blog. Eventually the two OG readers found her and they started up with readings again. The admin would do some too, but she didn't feel like she was as seasoned as the others. Then, a reader (who is the topic of recent discussion) joined the group and was doing some fun readings. Yes, there were other readings besides his love life. This reader was the one that did the Coachella reading and said this was a Coachella weekend fling, nothing to see here, folks, and then the shit hit the fan when lo and behold, Evan is seen with Natalie at the bar after Peru. The soulmate readings got out of hand with people constantly asking for clarification on it. The OG readers were understandably getting irritated. The admin was sweet, but I think she really relied on the cards being accurate. Either the soulmate was being taken to heart, or she was just not happy with Evan dating in general. So, when Natalie came into the picture, she had a hard time believing they were actually seeing each other outside of their Coachella hookup or whatever it actually was. That led to talks of closing the blog and then all the readers asking the admin to delete their readings. And eventually she closed the blog as well. So this is three main readers plus admin.

Now we have, as far as I can tell, two separate celebrity tarot readers, that probably know of each other, but I don't know enough about them to know if they talk on a personal level. They each have their own blogs. But, they came up with different readings about Evan and Natalie and now the crazies are pitting them against each other because they are picking up on different information. One says she thinks it's progressing and they may move in together or have an oopsy baby. The other says she doesn't think it will last. So the fandom is having a field day with that.

I will leave you with this. There is a YouTube tarot reader that also has a blog on here and I have watched one of her videos. I believe she has some of the same info as the other readers about the soulmate. Seems familiar at least, but this is the weird part. I noticed today that she has one of the AI pictures of Evan that, I THINK, I could be off, Rosa made as the heading picture of one of her readings. I'm gonna give the benefit of the doubt here and say she didn't know it was that picture. But, out of all the pictures that Evan has had taken, that one is being used. It just all feels a bit strange to me.

sweet jesus, thank you for this. this is crazier than reality tv.