#this is not ai i just suck at drawing hands

[vibratingskull]

Do you think it's wrong to use chatGPT to write? I have lot of my own ideas of all kind of stories i even have entire scene in my head but I suck at writing (and I'm also super procrastinating) also with English not being my first language. So I use chatGPT (but I don't actually post it anywhere its mostly just for myself). Is it really bad?

Yes

Yes, I do think it is wrong.

I will hold your hand saying that, but sucking at writing and English not being your first language are not valid excuses.

You'll never get better unless you write yourself. You need practice. Who gives a fuck if the first stories are "bad" (whatever that means). You already have the most important thing for writing: IDEAS.

Why spoil those ideas with plain, boring, unoriginal, stolen Ai writing when you could give it your own twist, your very special flair, your very own je-ne-sais-quoi to flavor and elevate those ideas?

You don't have that je-ne-sais-quoi to make your story unique yet? Of course: You are using Chat Gpt instead of practicing and perfecting your craft. You will not develop it unless you practice it.

I know it can seem scary to write, it's overwhelming, but no half-baked AI story will EVER come close to the sentiment of satisfaction and self-accomplishment you feel when you put the final "." to a chapter.

It's unoriginal, stolen content, nothing truly creative and satisfying can come out of it. It has no flavor, it has no soul, no intent, no spark behind it.

It's just boring.

Try writing, do it FOR YOURSELF

You deserve BETTER than flavorless AI writing, your ideas deserve better than AI, they deserve that human touch, YOUR very own touch.

I can't even start to put into words the pure pleasure I feel when I write, it's a fire, a need I have to satisfy, I NEED to write, this is such a pleasure to see your story appearing on the page and have full control of it. This is MY story, MY ideas, MY VOICE

MY

UNIQUE

UNREAPLACABLE

VOICE

You need to find yours, for your very own creative soul, for your own good. No AI can give you that.

Let's say you try and the first chapter is "disappointing" to you

WHO GIVE A FUCK?!

You already put more effort into that single chapter than all of the AI users ever put in their """"own writing""" ever and you are therefore more legitimate. Your ideas are more legitimate. They inherently have more value than whatever AI may vomit on a document ever.

Write, draw, sing, make movies, we are inherently artful creatures, and you deserve to nourish and grow that part of you, using AI will only atrophy this part of yourself until it dies.

Write, erase words, create entire paragraphs and delete them, forget a WIP for months, and feel your heart jump in joy rediscovering it one day.

This is a muscle that needs training.

The first chapters won't necessarily be good, but this is NORMAL. You are new to it. Hell, my own first chapters are TRASH, but those are MINE, they came from MY CREATIVE SOUL and were made to please and cater to me. I kept trying, I kept pushing because it is a fire burning inside of me.

Do I still think my writing is trash? Depends, someday yes, someday no, but the pleasure of creation goes beyond the final results. It supersedes anything else.

I think my writing is still not good enough but some people find it pleasant enough to decide to stick around my blog to keep reading me, so my writing has qualities and values, even if I stop posting.

Nobody wants to stick around AI writing, it's easy and flat, not even taking into account Chat gpt's limitations on touchy subjects.

I started plenty of chapters with one intent and ended up with an unexpected final text because new ideas kept coming up while writing.

Ai will just give you a boring straight line from A to B, while your own writing will make you travel all up to Z and make you discover numbers and colors and music.

You are doing a huge disservice to yourself anon, very honestly.

And for the "English isn't my first language", well it's not mine either. Want to know how I got to write in English daily? I read fanfics.

Real fanfics real people wrote. It took some time but I got there. School did not give me my English current level, fanfics did.

Find a fandom you love and read, read, read, read, and read. Use all the Google Translate and WordReference you need until you are comfortable, it gets easier with time.

Like WRITING *gasp!*

Maybe you have an idea for an INSANE AU nobody wrote for that fandom yet, maybe it deserves better than some dry robot words and a real human influence instead.

And lastly "I don't actually post it anywhere its mostly just for myself", it may be just for yourself but using AI is endangering everyone, it is a DISASTER ecologically speaking. For each idea you put in Chat gpt you can just empty 20 water bottles on the ground directly and you'll have the same creative and ecological result.

TLDR : it's stolen, unoriginal, soulless content, its an ecological disaster, and your ideas simply deserve better than that.

(And I really, REALLY hope you did not feed anyone's fics to GPT to finish them or give it ideas for """"your"""" chapters)

ALSO, WHAT I SAID STANDS FOR ART TOO.

[sleepy-the-loz-enthusiast]

Fluffvember day 1:

snow // "I'm stealing your blankets"

The prompt list I'm using is by @skyloftian-nutcase (sorry if I misinterpreted but I think you said it was okay to tag you- I can change it if that's not the case)

Reference image for Legend's pose + closeups under the cut !

The reference I used for Legend's pose. I did not make this, it was made by mellon_soup on tiktok.

I hope you like this !! Feel free to let me know what you think and if you have any constructive criticism, there is a month's worth of prompts left so I look forward to drawing more !

Also thank you to my bestie @biblicallyinaccuratespoons for giving some advice on drawings the blankets !! They're wondeful, please show them lots of love

Have a lovely existence !!!

[saragrosie]

Sketching while streaming s5...

Jonathan Sims I will learn to draw you (this is my doing. I could draw him however I want and I choose to stick with an image of him in my brain that is difficult for me to draw. Masochism.)

Not s5 Mahtins below I enjoyed drawing cuz hes neat:

(Edit: I yassified Martin in the do not separate cuz I wanted his hair fluffier)

[pooperdooper3000]

Time traveler: *moves a chair*

The timeline:

Textless version:

[mocha-tapioca]

im going to go insane on september 6th 2024 send tweet

[oldtvandcomics]

I drew the lesbian detectives!

It was quite a challenge, because I don't have any real experience with trying to imitate this old-fashioned comic book art style. It is also by far the shippiest thing I have ever drawn. Much as I like shippy fanart, I am NOT good at producing it, lol.

I probably should have waited until tomorrow to take a better picture in the daylight, but who really cares, I am currently the only one thinking about those two anyway.

("Those two" being Jill Trent (red) and Daisy Smythe (blue) from the Golden Age Jill Trent - Science Sleuth stories.)

[cyrsed]

the "ai can't get hands right" as some kind of gotcha always tickles me because y'know who else has trouble getting hands right? every artist ever

[mesonyx]

𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒚 ✧˖°.⟡

⟡ Date: 10/20/23 ✧˖°.⟡ Series: Celestial ✧˖°.⟡ Character: Aidora ⟡

Swift-footed messenger, jack of all trades. Ruler of thoughts, communication and a full plate. Like with hymns of old, Hermes please draw near. Alleviate worries and encourage studies in the wind on your helm and sandaled wings ✧˖°.⟡

⟡ Please no reposts ✧˖°.⟡ reblogs welcome ✧˖°.⟡ Thank you for your support ⟡

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 16

Curly (Mouthwashing) + food play

Guess whos got Mouthwashing brainrot. This guy. I love me a psychological horror game that im too scared to play myself, so I watch manlybadasshero play it. I love curly, and I love angst and horror, so here we go.

tw for vague mentions of what happens in the game, and Curly losing his mind.

2024 kinktober masterlist

Sunlight passed in through the slim windows in your shared apartment, the radio playing some tune you didn’t know the name off. Most music nowadays was made by AI, generating what seemed to be popular at that very moment, so it was never worth learning the names, not when most were just a line of numbers and letters.

Your socked feet carry you silently across the carpet, a serving tray in your hands as you carefully push the door open. The apartment was ancient by todays standards, but it had windows that let you see the actual sun, and not just the artificial one they used so people wouldn’t go crazy. It did result in having doors you actually had to open, instead of sliding doors.

Seeing your husband laid out on the bed made it all worth it though, the sliver of sunlight brushing against his skin and making his blonde hair look like gold. Curly was going on another delivery in a weeks time and would be gone for about eight months to a year. It might have sounded extreme, but in this day and age it was normal, especially for you two, who were working class.

 Luckily you had a job that paid okay, but not enough to support you both, and your lover had such a draw to the stars. This also meant you two had been going at it like rabbits, to be able to sate yourselves until you met again.

The tray was placed on the bedside table, a sleepy smile pulling at Curly’s lips as you crawl up the bed, pressing soft kissing all the way up his spine. “Morning captain” you murmur against his neck, where you bury your face and inhale deeply, simply taking in the smell that was him.

His hand lazily reaches back and runs through your hair, a sleepy hum leaving his lips as Curly seems to melt further into the sheets, a long relaxed exhale leaving him. “mornin…” he mumbles, not even opening his eyes as he felt your chest press against his back.

Mornings like this with you were Curly’s favourite, where he just got to indulge himself in all that he loved. A small yelp did jump out of him as he felt something run down his back, your chuckle making him grumble and finally glance back at you, his blue eyes parted just enough to see you.

Curly huffed a little as he watched and felt you lick syrup up from the crevice of his spine, your tongue flicking out and lapping against every knob of his spine that you could feel. He sighed and arched his back a little as you got further down, flattening your tongue against the dimple of his back and giving a wet suck, slurping up the syrup that had collected there.

“Sweet, like you” you mumble against his skin, shooting him a cheesy wink as he grunts at your stupid joke. He was more than willing to lift his hips though, as you started working his boxers down, Curly twitching again as you tilted more of the syrup against his skin.

Had he not been so sleepy and hot inside already, he might have complained as he felt the thick syrup run down between his cheeks, against his fluttering hole, which still felt sensitive from the multiple rounds you’d had the day before.

Your tongue licking against it was like a Band-Aid, but also kindling upon the fire in his gut. Curly shuddered and hummed softly into the pillow, hips lazily rocking back against your tongue as you licking and tasted all he had to offer.

Curly could feel you pouring more of the syrup on him, and part of his brain wondered if you had bought it, just to use it for this. Sugary items weren’t the cheapest, so it did fluster him a little more, knowing you most likely had saved up just to lick it off him. It made the familiar pulsing hardness between his legs dribble against the sheets, his hips rocking more intently against the bed.

“My pretty captain” you coo against his hole, only to follow it up with another wet suckle and slurp. One of your hands rubbed at his thigh, as the other pulled one of his cheeks, opening him up more for your hungry tongue and mouth.

You both knew you could have just pressed inside him, seeing as he was most definitely still loose from the day before. But the act of getting to lick him out and taste him like this was part of the fun, to feel Curly rut against the bed, but also back against your face, the taste of your spend from the day before, of Curly, and of the sweet syrup, flooded your senses.

It wasn’t the real syrup, the stuff they got from trees. Someone on your salary could never dream of even tasting the stuff, but it was a replacement version. It tasted a bit fake, but it was better than the cheap stuff. Add that to the taste of your lovers hole and his desperate panting, then it became a five star meal.

Curly let out a shaky keened noise as you finally pulled back, the blonde glancing over his shoulder again to watch as you slowly crawled back up again, pressing your chest against his back once more. “I love you” you mumble against his neck, grabbing yourself at the base to push inside him, Curly opening up with ease from all your prep.

“I love… you too” he gasped out, having to catch his breath as he felt your tip press expertly against his prostate. You had learned how to play him like a fiddle a while ago, back when you two were younger, and he was still studying to become a captain of a ship, and you had just started your career. You had both been so clumsy at the time, laughing and embarrassed, trying to figure it all out.

He let out a breathless giggle as you poured more lines of syrup against his back, licking it up from between his shoulders and up to his neck. “you’ll get it in my hair” he snickered, burying his face into the pillow once more as your hips worked together, his more desperate than yours.

“We can just take a bath” you reply, your voice rougher than before as you hold yourself up with your hands, moving your hips in rougher strokes, knowing that Curly liked it that way, to have his prostate struck over and over until he was wailing.

Neither of you really wanted to go far enough for Curly to start clawing at the bed, lost in tears of pleasure and fucked so good he couldn’t form a thought. At least, not now, not when he had just woken up, instead you stuck to suckling the sweet substance off his skin, the flavour mixing with the salty tang of his sweat.

Curly was the first to spill, his noises growing higher in pitch as his hips rocked in short quick strokes, downright humping the bed but also trying to jump back against you. Your captain got too desperate sometimes, no matter how many times you guys did this. He was normally too nice and too selfless, and times like this were the only time he allowed himself to be selfish.

His noises melted in a drawn out keen, which turned into a deeper guttural groan, his hips grinding hard against the sheets as he spurted all over it, your hips grinding against his from the back to push him further against it. “Good, so good. So good for me Curly” you pant, rutting against him a few more times before spilling inside him, adding to the mess that had mostly been licked up by yourself.

You both laid there, pressed against each other and panting, trying to catch your breaths and basking in the glow of being together. When he caught his breath, Curly lifted himself from the pillow, which now had some spit and tear stains as a result of his pleasure. His lips slotted against yourself, Curly smirking lazily at the sweet taste on your tongue. It tasted so good, even if he didn’t normally like the stuff, but on your tongue anything tasted divine.

…

A rattly exhale left his teeth, as there weren’t really any lips left to breathe through. Curly’s one eye was blurry as he stared up at the same ceiling he had been staring at for who knows how long. His mind had been slipping more and more lately. Every waking moment was pain, and whenever he slept, he dreamed of you.

Every now and then he swore he could taste syrup, even amongst the horrible taste of bile, blood, and the pain medication Jimmy force-fed him. Maybe the pain and isolation were finally catching up, his pained limbs thrashing weakly against the bed. Not because of pain, even if it was ever present. But because he longed for you. he longed for your eyes, your lips, your hands, your love. Anything to carry him through this… this guilt and pain.

Would you still want him, like this? You had always loved his hair, his eyes, you had always loved his handsome features. And what was he now, other than the sad pathetic remains of a man who deserved to die. But he couldn’t die, not yet, not when he had promised to return to you.

He could almost hear you. your loving voice which filled him with longing. Calling out for him, loving him, comforting him through the worst of his pains. Curly… my captain… Curly, Curly, Curly, C- “Curly?” a soft voice broke through the visions and illusions, at least most of them.

He couldn’t turn his head well, but Anyas face was familiar as it leant over him. She looked exhausted and like she had aged ten years from the stress of it all. She seemed relieved but also saddened to see him still alive, like part of her had hoped he would die peacefully in his sleep. “I don’t… I don’t think I can do this anymore, Curly. Its not your fault, but I can’t-“ she stuttered, voice shuddering and eyes glossy.

Hearing the rattle of the pill bottle in her hand made it all make sense. Poor Anya, another victim of Curly and his inability to do anything right. He wasn’t made at her, he hoped the few gurgles he could let out before the pain got too extreme expressed that. Her smile was so tired, one of her hands resting on his bandage covered bicep, before she slowly sank to the floor.

Curly could hear her breathing slowing down, even above his own raspy pained wheezing. If he blurred his vision enough, and let himself slide deeper into his mind, away from most of the pain, then he could hear your breathing too. He could feel it puffing against the back of his neck, your mouth pressing against his shoulder, up his neck to his chin, and against his lips.

The door opened with a whoosh, Curly only truly registering that time had passed from the look on Jimmys face, and how the room had started to smell more of death than before. Even as Jimmy lifted him, Curly still tasted sugar. He tasted you. he could almost see you leaning over the table, your loving smile on your face, even as more pain burned through his leg. Even as it all blurred more and more. Even as everything grew cold, and he heard Jimmy finally take responsibility, as you looked back at him through the glass.

He tasted syrup.

[cherubfae]

HEAR ME OUT NOAH, A THOUGHT PERHAPS.

Sylus, ever so cocky, has spent the last hour working you up with hot, feverish kisses, only to slide his hand between your legs, feel how wet you are, and with a wicked grin muse out a “all of this from just a little kissing, sweetie?”

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔯𝔬𝔴 𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔶 {𝔰𝔶𝔩𝔲𝔰}

screaming, punching, kiCKING THE AIR! this man is so very near and dear to me ;^; aaaa!!

tags: nsfw, smut, fem!reader, established relationships, size kink, size training, pet play (sorta), mentions of breeding kink, kind of short!!

a/n: just a little side note, i think it's so cute when you guys 'yell' my name at me xD it's so funny. I'm tired of the dark content of my sweet man and the gross AI bots I've seen--among how minors treat him. none of that here! >:( we respect sylus in this house! and as always, MINORS GET OUTTA HERE!

"Look at you...," Sylus's deep voice chuckled right beside your ear and punctuated his sentence with a little nibble. "Already so desperate for me and we've barely begun."

You suck in harshly, "Sylus!" He gripped your soft thighs, grinning down at you like a mischievous cat.

"Shh, none of that. I don't want you straining yourself. If you tense up, I won't be able to fit any of me inside." Sylus cooed, his voice like soft velvet, his body was all-encompassing and warm like a security blanket over your half-naked body.

If there's one thing Sylus was is that he was devotingly patient. You knew he would act good upon his words and take care of you. He'd always been too big before and both of you were more than a little pent up.

Little by little, he works you open with his long, thick fingers. Gently and reverently curling them upwards inside of you; coaxing out such sweet, little moans like music to his ears. His favorite melody. Your underwear was merely tugged to the side, exposing soft curls and tender lips to the chilly air of his bedroom. The N109 Zone seemed particularly frigid lately with the impending winter season.

Lewd squelching echoes out as his fingers gently stretch and curl into you. Your quiet moan has him smiling; his swollen cock throbbing in anticipation. "There you are.. Are you ready, sweetie? We'll go slow." Sylus gently gripped your hip, pulling you down til your bare ass is flush with his meaty thighs.

The first press of him against your slick entrance is always a bit overwhelming. You can feel the power and dominance lingering in his movements as his thick mushroomed head parts your folds slowly. It's an agonizing stretch, long and drawn out, and he's not even that far inside. The feel of him is enough to make your lose your mind, it didn't matter that only his tip is inside; you felt like you were underwater.

"Remember to breathe, love. Don't strain too much. if you aren't relaxed, sweetie, then I really won't fit-- and I'd very much like to."

It takes everything in you not to grit your teeth. Falling back against the pillows, you draw your knees to your chest. Sylus groaned, watching with rapt attention as little by little he feeds his engorged length into your tiny hole. He's heavy, you can feel the weight of him pressing you down into the mattress. Your legs kick out, hips going lax when Sylus gets about halfway in.

"Is the little rabbit succumbing to the fox already?" Sylus purrs, leaning down to nuzzle at your ear. You half-heartedly roll your eyes and shoot him a playful glare.

"And why am I not the fox?" You pout, cheeks flushed from the exertion. Sylus heartily chuckled.

Leaning down, his weight makes you gasp and arch as several more inches slide into your quivering hole with a wet squelch. "My dear, if you're a fox then I'm the big bad wolf intent on breeding you."

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

[lmaonade]

something about the AI boom in art that really sucks for actual artists, is the serious hyper-analysis of Hands. hands are hard to draw. which means hands are hard for AI generative shit to work with. i've seen good, well meaning, actual artists who just struggle with hands. and now that aspect is going to be honed in on and criticized for any weirdness. yes i know AI hands have a specific vibe to them, but it's such a wildly grey area that being sure is so hard. and it all just sucks. it all sucks so fucking bad. no one can take shortcuts without being called an AI artist. everyone has to constantly prove themselves

[erika-xero]

Thoughts on ai and Art

What has Ai really changed for me is the perception of my own art. Years back, I was extremely concerned of my work being imperfect: everything had to look "right", the anatomy had to be flawless, the lines - clean and refined. The pipe-line had to be flawless too: minimal amount of layers, one - for lines, one - for colors, and a few for lighting/shading.

Meanwhile I was yearning for chaos and the standard pipe-line felt too strict, too limiting. I finished the drawing and cried over the imperfections, but I could not let myself create a new layer and just paint it all over as I wanted to - that would "mess up my perfect psd". This was even harder because I started as a traditional artist and traditional art is basically the same as drawing on one layer or stacking the layers on top of each other whenever you wish to change anything. I was so obsessed with the anatomy/perspective looking right that my works started looking boring and stiff. If I was not sure that I would be able to draw a certain body part at a certain angle ANATOMICALLY PERFECT - I just refused to draw it at all. Drawing back then was HARD. I forced too much limitations upon myself, I was so scared of making any mistakes and thus did everything I could to avoid the risk to fail. It felts like an entire world would see me failing and everyone - literally everyone - will disapprove. And don't get me wrong - the art community in my country has always been astonishingly toxic. We had, like, a group of 20 THOUSANDS individuals hunting down children online and bullying them into oblivion for drawing anime and furry characters in their school textbooks. And pretty much everyone except a small group of people (which I was a part of) thought that it's absolutely fine and this is how the things should be. Even the industry professionals were absolutely sure that young artists have to suffer and be ashamed of everything they do unless it is absolutely flawless at an any aspect. I was ashamed of everything I did back then. I was ashamed of drawing and posting sketches because I felt like they are not good enough to be shown to anyone. And then the Ai-boom started. And I had mixed feelings because I was not THAT scared, but I was somewhat disappointed of people? General public praised the generated slop ignoring the mistakes far worse than what real artists got bullied for for DECADES. The synthetic artworks are shiny. They are overrendered. They are liveless, boring, they lack fundamentals and yet somehow people viewed them as some kind of a miracle. I decided to learn how does those little machines generated their slop out of morbid curiosity, just to make sure that I got it right and it is spitting out cadavers created from mutilated, dismembered works of real artists. Used by people who did not care enough to pick up a bloody pencils. And I thought: why would I care enough to look at something that no one bothered to create? And then I started seeing everything I do completely different. I suddenly stopped caring of being perfect. Every piece I have ever done, every work I was crying over for it being ugly, every messy sketch and unfinished doodle suddenly started to matter a lot. Not that I stopped caring of doing my best, no. I stopped wishing to disown my own mistakes. They are my own. I cared enough to try and fail and to try again, and fail so badly that I wanted to cry, scream and throw up. And I repeated the cycle for long enough that I started to enjoy my silly doodles and started loving every tiny imperfection because this is what made my art so human. I still suck at drawing hands and feet. My line-art is messy and I started doing it right on top of my colored sketch. My pipe-line is in chaos and my PSDs look like a total mess of three hundreds of layers. I draw sketches with huge-ass round brush only adding the details that really matters. My works are better than they could ever be because they feel alive and chaotic as we human had always been. This is a love letter to my art and write it while flipping off my middle finger to the cadavers generated by the machine. I will not be stopped by glorified autocomplete and I refuse to be outdone by people who confuse googling an image with the act of creation.

My worst drawing is better than any of the generative imagery out there, because I cared drawing it.

[jazzyblusnowflake]

You've got some cool headcanons for Nuzi and Vuzi, but what about the third? You got any for EnVy?

Wow i suck at answering these on time smh. sighhhh, in my defense i procrastinate answering some questions cuz i don't wanna just put together some random stuff and call it a day-

i actually wrote some stuff for some asks before but had to delete it last minute cuz i thought its worth putting more time than that, i guess TvT sorry, im probably taking this too seriously idk.

My eNVee headcanons TvT:

[yall know the drill, the drone versions only, the human versions aren’t involved, and no nsfw- for now.]

k so, light envuzi involved too, Uzi is the mediator here, whether u consider her a friend here or their mini toaster in the middle- also there's some of the stuff from my future version where V is safe and sound thankfully. and also maybe some stuff from their past too.

With how N was realizing that V was lying or hiding stuff from him in a constant manner, naturally he grew to grieve the loss of who V USED to be, and with that loss he tried to accept that he has to let her go, because the V he fell in love with was long gone. despite this, when they both started teasing each other over their relationship with Uzi and N started to bite back a bit at Vs behaviors with more self confidence, they grew to form a completely different kind of relationship. Uzi was just having fun seeing them try to win her over lmao; but in the end they kind of started enjoying eachothers company again. Uzi felt happy seeing them get closure for the things they went through and was more than happy to support them through it.

Back at the manor V was fixed up after J and N, she was one of the later drones added to the family, she hardly spent much time at the manor at all before the great yeetening happened- she was originally a maid drone for a family before she was broken and dumped in the drone corpse junkyard. Maid drones are programmed with sweet and soft AIs with more round/short body shapes to have a friendly image in a household, they are made to be able to deal with both adults and kids, and they are best made for cleaning and setting up the house in mind. N was made as a butler/chauffeur before getting broken and yeeted in the junkyard [yes he can drive]. Due to V getting broken for some sort of mistake during work, she was left scarred after her reboot to make any more mistakes, which left her slightly jitter-ish and clumsy. Tessa put N in charge to help her around and although at the beginning V didn't talk much and felt unsure, slowly N became her safe space- especially since Tessas abusive parents remind V alot of her old household. N in turn thought V was always cute, he helped her with her work, having more steady hands, which ended with a lot more hand touching and blushing on both their ends :p

N was the one that suggested glasses for V which Tessa decided to try doing to see if it would help her visual efficiency in any way, and it did. V as a DD often tries to rely on her real eyes rather than look through her main visor, the glasses remind her too much of N...

N and V sometimes used to get out of the manor in secret spots to spend some time away from the chaos to help V calm down. during this time they would read books, learn stuff from each others past lives, and sometimes draw lol, but V just liked watching and listening to N, she felt happy with him. although unlike N, V felt a bit nervous around the animals in the area XD

N and V actually have shared kisses, just not on the lips. with N kissing her on the back of her hand as a gentleman and V giving him kisses on his cheek [Tessa's idea of a cute plan to put them under a mistletoe lol], but Vs last words to N was a promise to give him a kiss before she became comatose. as more drones in the manor stopped working and Ns efficiency and work became less useful to the manors occupants due to him wanting to spend time with V all the time, Louisa and James started becoming more impatient with Tessa's drones, which lead to the whole "get rid of them" line...

back in the current time V is obviously trying to protect N in her own traumatized way; but even then, most of the things she had done to "shelter" N, was probably not the best choice one could make, and some of it was done out of jealousy towards N and Uzi getting closer. However, slowly she started convincing herself that N deserved someone like Uzi. V had convinced herself that she deserves nothing. She was willing to give up everything for N and keep him safe from the beginning, even if it meant knocking N down a few limbs/heads just to keep him away from danger- which is problematic in itself. she made choices based off fear and urgency. she was always traumatized.

When N and V started getting along together a bit more and hanging around a bit in the human cities- V takes N to a bookstore she found once and they spent the whole day in the shelter of the store reading different old books. V still does not admit she did this to see N happy again lol.

When N started showing V affection again, V started becoming heavily touch starved and dependent on him again, just like the manor days, which she feared, which caused a minor set back for a while where she tried to avoid N. Uzi had to come and fix this shit cuz apparently only she can scold 2 dinosaurs without feeling intimidated. after N and V kiss for the first time PROPERLY after the whole solver BS ends, V just gets more touch starved and she hates both N AND Uzi for this lmao.

N and Uzi know that one of the only ways to make V calm down is to act soft with her, occasionally praising her and calling her nice things; even when V is literally threatening to bite their head off- [shes bluffing-.......mostly.]

N is usually the one that initiates any closeness with V. after their first kiss, N does tell her that she's done stuff that he might not be able to casually forgive, but at the same time he has seen her grow, and she does have good in her that he still loves her for.

V has nightmares and hardly ever sleeps, and when she does, its usually cuddling N or Uzi.

V tries to wear her glasses more often in the future. N likes it a lot :"3

V is surprisingly a good mom :p [spoilers for my au lmao bye] but yeah, since her original OS was for a maid, she still has some functions to be good with little ones. she cant help herself, she just really likes babies and kids.

N likes sometimes ballroom dancing with V for old times sake...

[i think this is as far as my brain will allow me, please excuse me as i jump off a cliff :") ]

[tamales78]

Series: Teacher!Slenderman X OC!Reader

Chapter 4

Smut 18+

Warning: Teacher X Student relationship, College Teacher &Student, Mention & use of drugs, smut 18+, reader is 21, alcohol use,

Summary: Amelia is used to being a straight-A student since middle school. Her English teacher Professor Slender grades her an F after finding out she used AI. How will she be able to keep her good grades? And have the English teacher do her favors?

"Slende-"

"Professor." He angrily cuts Amelia out, as she closes the door behind her.

"You think I'm stupid, eh? I was taking it easy on you and this is what you fucking do?!"

"I-I'm so, so, sorry. I-I was tired, I came from a party, and I...I just thought it would be no problem! It was just three paragraphs."

"You know my rules, Amelia. A hint of AI and I give a zero. This dropped down your grade." He growled at hers.

"P-Please, Slender. Give me a chance to retake it! I'll do it properly this time."

"There is no next time, Amelia! No retakes! You're meant to set a good example, Amelia! I actually was surprised you were the only one to cheat." He glared at her taking the papers from his suitcase.

"Please, Slender!" Amelia begged Slender as she moved closer to him.

However, he simply opened his computer and ignored him.

"You're a dick!" She yells out turning away, however, a slender hand wraps itself around her neck pulling Amelia back to her teacher.

"I'm a dick? I practically gifted you this A, only for you to throw it out of the window."

Amelia gulped as he pulled her closer.

"You could've stayed home and done my fucking assessment, yet you instead decided to go out to a party. Not my fault you're a lazy..." Slender looks away from her stopping himself from saying what was in his mind.

"A lazy, what? Proffesor." Amelia asks earning Slender's attention.

He looks at the student in front of him and slowly leans her closer till her breasts were pressing to his chest. Now she was playing a game, he knew she was simply doing it to get the upper hand.

"Stop playing this fucking game, Amelia." He whispered into her ear.

"What game, professor?"

Slender shakes his head turning away, but stops in his tracks when Amelia slowly leans forward till they are centimeters apart.

"Don't," Slender growled slowly adding more pressure to her.

"Don't what, professor?" She smirks before Slender presses his lips to hers, causing her to drop the coffee to the floor.

Moans fill the kiss as Slender lets go of her neck, and instead pins her to his desk. Both of them, completely ignoring the brown liquid and plastic cup on the floor.

Her hands traveled to his neck pulling him closer, as his hands drifted from her neck to the plaid skirt she had on. The spot between her legs slowly dripped wet, wetting her black panties as his hands traveled between her legs.

"Fuck," Amelia moaned when Slender's fingers finally touched the wet spot.

"Tell me to stop, and I'll listen."

Amelia shakes her head opening her legs enough for Slender to move her wet panties aside, so he could eat her out. As his tongue lapped her wetness, Amelia's hands traveled to her blouse unbuttoning the fabric and displaying her matching lacey black bra.

"Shit, Professor!" Amelia whined feeling Slender suck on her clit.

Slowly the knot grew as Slender kept on playing with Amelia, and the fabric of her panties. As she feels the knot about to burst Slender pulls away drawing an annoyed whine from his student.

"Only good students get to cum." He grinned licking her juices from his lips.

"Please, Professor!"

"Please, what?" He taunts her, slowly undoing his belt and unzipping his pants.

"Please, let me cum, Professor." She whines to her professor.

Slender nods coating his cock with her juices, and looks up at the clock over his whiteboard.

"30 minutes till the bell rings. Think you can finish before that?"

"I don't know. How good are you?" She smirks earning a harsh thrust from her English teacher.

"Shit!"

"I'm pretty good compared to other boys you may have fucked." He chuckles thrusting into her roughly to the wooden desk.

With his arm, he shoves all the papers to the desk and pins her to the desk, as his pace quickened and deepened. A groan leaves him as her gummy walls slowly began tightening around his dick as it hammered her core.

As the pleasure grew, Amelia held onto the desk afraid to be moved forward due to the massive force Slender was using. Her teeth plunged to her lip, drawing her professor as blood dripped.

"Faster, Slendie!" She moaned looking up at the clock.

"Shit!" He groaned looking up at the clock and finding they had less than 12 minutes to finish and clean up.

"I'm going to go rougher, okay?" He groaned pulling Amelia to sit up at the desk.

"Can you bounce?" He asked holding onto her thighs.

She nods holding onto his neck, as the pace quickened and the pleasure grew.

"F-Fuck! Slendie!" Amelia moaned out loud making Slender slam his lips so she would be silenced.

"Shut up, woman." He groaned as she finally snapped and came hard wetting his cock.

"Fuck!" Slender cursed holding onto his student and finishing inside of her.

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

"Fuck," Amelia mentally whined feeling her naked core dripping with the cum of the man in front of the class, as he explained the story they would be analyzing.

"Any questions?" Slender asked only for everyone to shake their heads as they failed to notice the bulge in his left pocket holding Amelia's panties.

"Meanwhile, please take notes on the slides I posted," Slender announced eyeing Amelia as she eyed him from her seat.

Boy, would she have something fun and interested to talk to jane other than what happened at the party. She completely ignored the notes in front of her, continuing to look at her teacher. Slender began passing around giving everyone a note telling them their grade.

He hands Amelia the paper, lightly grazing her hand as she got handed the paper with a small note.

'A+

I'll keep the panties as extra credit'

And at the bottom of the note his phone number with a address which only assumed was his.

A small smile plastered across her face, as Slender grinned back at her and sat down to grade. However, he was unable to focus on the assessments, as the woman in front of him kept eyeing him.

He thanked whoever was looking at him when the bell rang, and everyone began leaving his class.

"Bye, Professor," Amelia smiled softly passing by her teacher's desk-the same desk where he buried deep inside her 5 minutes before he called a janitor to clean up the spilled latte.

"Bye, Amelia."

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

"Wait, so...Nina told Jeff and he told her..?"

"Mhm," Amelia nodded happily as she ate her sandwich.

"Girl, why are you happy? Nina right now hates our guts!"

"It's not the cause of that!" Amelia laughed looking around them before handing Jane the note Slender gave her.

Jane gasped astounded at the many contents of the note, and looked up at a grinning Amelia.

"Girl! Oh, Lord! Amelia, you didn't!"

Amelia nods leaning and giving her friend further details of her time with the English professor.

"Oh god! No, he didn't!" Jane whispers and shouts astounded Slender didn't use a condom or anything.

"Do you have birth control?!" She asks panicked fearing for a pregnancy.

"Of course I do! You really think I would let him do that, and risk getting knocked up?"

[myloveoffandoms]

Bug Bites and Socks

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Reader (Female)

Summary: Reader is suck in shorts and is hoping to find something better suited for killing walkers, or in their case avoiding bug bites.

Warnings: Age gap (Could be read different as age isn't mentioned), As always bad grammar.

Tags: ??? You guys tell me.

Word count: 1.4k approx.

A/N: This is post prison era, this is also from my archives (aka word docs i never posted) Only proof read once. The girl in the photo is AI and not necessarily the characters looks but AI was being an ASS when I asked for black knee high socks in combat boots so I decided to just use what I was able to get.

Photo Inspo: https://ca.pinterest.com/pin/2251868556842908/

“Come on. We gotta keep movin’.” Daryl says gruffly, as he looks at me leaning on a tree for support. Every fiber in my body was screaming, telling me to rest but I knew we had to keep moving.

“I know… I just need two seconds” I let my head hang down for a moment.

“One, two. Now come on before we lose daylight.” I roll my eyes at the comment, but a small smile breaks on my face. It was closest thing to a joke I had heard from Daryl in the time that I knew him.

“Ha. Ha. You’re so funny.” Sarcasm dripping from my voice. The man Infront of me scoffs in response. I push off the tree and start walking again. He watches me approach before turning and walking along side me, bow always at the ready.

As we continue, every now and then I have to hit at my ankles and legs from the bugs trying to bite. “If ya wore pants an not shorts you wouldn’t have as many bugs at ya” He grumbles out as he watches me swat off another mosquito.

“Well, running from walkers wasn’t exactly on the itinerary for today.” I say quietly. I was already annoyed with myself for not being more prepared and stuck in dark jean shorts. I didn’t need to be called out on it too. I was on meal prep duty before the prison was attacked, and it was ridiculously warm out at the time shorts didn’t seem like the worst idea, clearly, I was wrong.

“Just sayin’.” Daryl utters out.

“Hey, look” I slow my pace as I see a building through the trees up ahead. Daryl picks up pace some, to see what it was and if anyone or thing was around.

“it’s a house, don’t look like anyone around or inside” he says quietly.

“Scavenge and move on or hold up for the night?” I ask as we approach it slowly.

“let’s see what’s inside first.” He says holding his bow drawn as a single walker staggers out of the woods. He doesn’t waste the arrow and we both run inside the house trying carfully to not draw attention of the undead.

The house had definitely been picked over, dirt and broken items scattered the floors. Furniture ruined or upturned. Daryl went searching in the kitchen I crept slowly upstairs. First room was near empty except mess. The bathroom had nothing but garbage nothing worthy of taking. The second room clearly belonged to a girl. Photos scattered the floor, happy faces. Posters of movies, and bands hung haphazardly on the walls and ripped on floors. I went to the dresser, of course nothing no pants, nothing. I scanned the floor again. I see the closet door hanging off the rack. I walk over and look inside again nothing but garbage or useless items. I scan the shelf nothing, top one I couldn’t see so I carefully run my hand over it my fingers graze over something soft I grab it and pull it down. A ball of black sits in my hands. After a second, I realize its socks.

I hold them in my hand as throwing them from one to the other as I continue to search for anything food, pants, anything at all upstairs. Nothing. Only a pair of black socks.

I go down the stairs to see Daryl slamming an upper cupboard closed. “There ain’t nothin’ here!” He shouts. “What ya find?” He asks eyeing the black ball in my hands.

“Catch. Its socks.”

Daryl catches them with ease and lets out a scoff well doing so. He undoes them to show two extremely long black socks. Daryl looks at them kind of confused for a moment. I quickly go up to him taking them from his hands.

I sit on the back of what was once a couch, I untie my boots and kick them off taking off my ripped socks I had on and setting them on the couch.

“What the hell are ya doin’.” He asks clearly wondering why I so quickly decided I needed to change socks. “Protection from the bugs.” I say as I pull on one of the black socks it sits just below my knee. I quickly put my opposite leg up on the couch pulling the sock up past my calf and letting it snap against my skin when I hit my knee.

I turn to look at Daryl whose gaze slowly climbs from my legs to my eyes. I tilt my head slightly trying to read the emotion on his face. I couldn’t quite place it, he almost looked… hungry. Then it hit me we still haven’t eaten and no food here. He was hungry and probably annoyed at me stopping to change socks.

I lean over and tie my boots. Happen to have some more coverage on my legs. When I finish tying, I stand back up straight, and Daryl still watches me. He swallows hard once and then turns back to the kitchen.

“Sorry…” I mumble out. I don’t think he heard me.

“Lets keep movin’ maybe I can hunt somethin’ before night hits” Daryl grumbles out, heading to the door. I follow behind him.

It was night Daryl was able to catch a few squirrels since we had left the abandon house. Although the days have been warm the nights have been cold and temps been dropping lower and lower as days pass.

I watch Daryl as he leans against a log. He was cleaning his bows and placing them back in their designated spots. I liked watching him sometimes. Even before he was always just so into his own thing. It also helped that I found him undeniably attractive. The brown hair and bluish, green eyes. I shiver as a wind passes through.

I see it blow the hair from his face. I hesitate for a moment before I speak. “Daryl…”

He turns to look at me. “Could I- I mean could… I was..” I mentally roll my eyes at myself for stuttering so much.

“Can ya what?” He asks his full attention on me.

“Well, I was wondering if I could, lay beside you…” He just blinks so I continue to talk “I just mean it’s cold and it would help keep warmth... Never mind bad idea” I say shaking my head.

He watches me for a moment before he sets his knife that laid on his left side over to the right. I close my eyes taking his silence as a no. Then I hear him clear his throat. I open my eyes, and he looks from me to the spot empty on his left.

I lean up slowly and make way over to him then slowly lay beside him. I don’t curl in. but he blocks the wind and just being closer gives some extra warmth.

It didn’t take me long to fall asleep.

Third person POV

Daryl tensed when she laid down next to him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about her being so close.

The way she had put her new socks on early made a warmth go through him. Her smiling as she pulled them up and the smirk when she said it was bug protection. It caused a feeling of warmth Daryl wasn’t fully familiar with. Yes, some was in an attraction sense but there was more there.

She laid beside him, her breathing remaining calm and steady as she slept. Daryl pushed himself down on the log some. Enough to keep partial elevated, but also enough to let him rest more.

After a few minutes had passed. She stirred lightly in her sleep turning to face Daryl. She reached out and cuddled into his side. Her head resting on his chest, and a leg over his. He watched as she curled in closer. He remained completely stiff and unmoving. He watched her closely for a moment before relaxing and gently resting his hand on her mid back and side. He couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of having her so close and so at peace with him. Daryl relaxed some allowing himself to close his eyes and rest, with the beautiful girl he’s slowly come to know and holding her close.

[nikanono]

I know I'm not active on here anymore, but I need a place to get this off my chest.

And Tumblr is where I found my creativity so I guess it fits

It has been so difficult to create anything as of recent. Ive lost so much confidence in what I do with so many shortcomings with my art. And I feel as if part of it is my fault- other parts its completely out of my hands.

Yes, Ai art and the industry tossing creatives aside hasnt been the most encouraging thing in the world. Its a good reason as to why i've been feeling not so great with creating things.

In 2022, I suffered a really bad art burnout. I didnt draw anything for a year. I started to kick it back up again in 2023. I found a lot of comfort in spending a lot of time drawing my OC's- which was far different than what I used to do- which was a shit ton of fanart. It definetely ignighted my spark and I really started to draw what I loved.

I really felt I was diving back into what I was really passionate about.

But I guess i could never escape how badly I relied on external validation for things I make. Because if I truely reflect, I've mostly drawn things for others. And I kept tellling myself that that was something I found comfort in. Getting feedback from an external source is where I grounded my validation for so many years and I really need to break out of that habit. And I'm back in a rut where I'm not finding interest or enjoyment in it anymore.

But its rough- I know OC content doesnt get much attention online, not compared to fanart at least. But seeing numbers dwindle on social def hit the brain a little to hard. I know I cant ever beat the algorithm but it still does suck a whole lot

The art burnout at the start of this year hit me so hard like a 500kg Eagle Strike. I can tell that im forcing any art that I put out. But I look at the recent stuff i make, wether it be a sketch or an illustration, and just feel so disheartened. I dont hate it, I dont critique it- I just feel disheartned by it.

And I know its affecting other parts in my life. Im a lot more moody and irritable, and I have this lingering worry that its starting to affect my social circles. I do my best to check in with my friends and partner but anxiety really just isnt kind at times.

I know time is going to be my friend in overcoming burnout- I know I've overworked myself. I just hate how I'm starting to resent the things I was so passionate about.

But really, I needed to get this off my chest somewhere.

Thanks for hanging friends