#when i do digital stuff i feel like i can never get it looking quite right

[aerenex]

I noticed that the Disassembly Drones looked a bit like the Hazbin Hotel angels, and thought it’d be fun to combine them! 

[thatanimeramenchick]

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Part One

No one asked for this, but whatever. Bite me. I’ll get to the asks, I swear

3,516 words

Part Two - Part Three

–-

The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself. In a place like hell, where the worst of society sunk together and only somehow seemed to get worse, it was a good idea to not catch other people’s eyes. If their eyes were on you, it was almost never for a good reason.

So when you decided to start working, it made sense you would do something quiet and in the background like data filing for a large media company. While there were many more unsavory jobs that paid more, you wanted to avoid the obvious and dangerous crime life of hell as much as possible in your daily life. You had had enough of being unwillingly tied up in that kind of stuff when you were alive. You might as well spend your eternity in some type of peace, or at least as much as someone in hell can get.

So, you made sure you were presentable as you walked into Voxtekk on your first day to work, dressed simple business attire and keeping a quiet demeanor.

“There you are!” said who you presumed was your new boss, a short man with glasses and a blue hair dye, “Was wondering if you were going to show up!”

“Sorry,” you said, “The traffic was bad.”

“Well, you better get used to leaving early,” he said, “Traffic is always a bitch in this part of Pentagram City.”

He continued to speak as he led you to the elevator.

“So, I’ve been told you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing on earth,” he said.

“Yes, I did library work while I was alive,” you said.

And some smuggling. Especially with weapons.

You didn’t think it would be necessary to tell him that though. The job had come in handy though by giving you a knack for remembering where things were.

“Good, good,” he said, “I expect you’ll be able to figure out how to do this on your own then.”

He led you to a room that was filled with file drawers as well as a large computer off to the side.

“There’s thousands, if not millions, of files in here, both physically and digitally. It’ll be your responsibility to make sure that everything new brought in gets put in its proper place, as well as that anything that is requested can be easily found,” he said, “As the biggest media company in hell, it’s important that we know at all times where every piece of information or media can be located.”

It was overwhelming, like the world’s largest and most complicated library. It made your head spin a little looking at it all, but you always liked a challenge.

“You think you can handle it?” he asked.

You nod with some confidence, though you don’t quite feel it. This was going to take some getting used to.

“I hope for both our sakes you’re right,” he said, “Last filer I hired couldn’t tell left from right and Vox fried me to a crisp. Took me a good week before I was able to regenerate properly.”

Crap, that sounded bad. Note to self, don’t let that happen to you.

“I think I’ll be all right,” you said.

---

It was a bit overwhelming the first few weeks. You were competent enough to keep things in order though. Your experience was paying off, and you weren’t hearing any complaints or news about any assistants getting fried, so you supposed you were doing your job well enough.

Within two months of starting your job, you finally met the rumored big man himself. He had come in one day, visibly in a bad mood as he walked over to your desk, a man trailing behind him.

“I don’t know why I even pay you morons,” he said, “I have to hear important information secondhand from fucking Valentino because you can’t be bothered to keep up with what’s happening in hell.”

“Look, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you,” he said, “I just didn’t think you’d care.”

Vox had stormed over to your desk.

“So you KNEW and thought it would be a good idea to just not tell me at all?” he said.

“T-that’s not it! I just-”

Vox held up a hand to interrupt him before turning to you.

“I want the file we have in here on Alastor,” he said, a static buzz of irritation on the last word, “Now.”

“Of course, sir,” you said.

You hurried over to the file cabinet and quickly located it.

“See, not everyone around here is as useless as you are,” Vox said to his other employee.

You saw the hapless employee mutter something under his breath out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it a chain had appeared and Vox yanked him closer.

“What was that?” he said

“N-nothing, sir!” said the now visibly sweating employee.

A shock went through the poor guy before Vox released him.

“Useless,” he said, “You know what? I think you need some time learning exactly who is in charge around here.”

Vox pointed a clawed finger at you.

“You,” he said, “It’s your lucky day, kid. You wanna promotion?”

“Um… yes?” you said.

“Great. Samuel, have fun in janitorial work for the next decade,” he said, “You’re being replaced. What’s your name?”

“F/N,” you said.

“Hope you have customer service experience as well as filing,” he said, “You’re moving up to my office. Need someone with a functioning brain to run the front desk. Pack up!”

You hesitated for a minute before grabbing the stuff under your desk. You figured the last thing you wanted to do was piss this guy off more than he already looked.

---

Despite him being in such a bad mood that first day, you soon found that most of the time Vox was relatively calm, at least compared to what you heard about the other employers in this building. While he at times could get pretty irritated with things, especially if a certain never-to-be-named demon was brought up by an idiot intern, he rarely took it out on you. He usually took the daily bothers of running the company in stride.

Besides that, running a front desk of an office wasn’t too different than running the front desk at the library. You didn’t have to do near as much organizing in terms of files, but you still did spend a lot of time making sure that everything in Vox’s life was organized from his meetings to when he had lunch.

He didn’t talk much with you outside of work related stuff, which is why you were so surprised when you found out what he was doing one day.

It was a nice enough morning, at least as much as a nice morning can be in hell. You took a sip of your coffee briefly as you stretched and looked out your office window. While you missed the blue sky of earth, the red sky of hell had its own sort of charm you supposed. You glanced down, looking at the people walking back and forth, small as ants. Running around willy nilly. Someone was moving into the building that afternoon, a common occurrence here, as you had heard talk that Valentino liked to keep his employees in close quarters. Seems like they had a similar taste in furniture to your own. Almost frighteningly so.

Except… wait. Was that your sofa? And your dresser? Your bookshelves? You lowered your coffee to the windowsill as you squinted down at your entire catalog of furniture being moved into the building. Something wasn’t right.

You knocked on your boss’s door and entered in a bit of a rush as you heard him say to come in.

“Vox, what on earth is going on?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“F/N, that could be ten different things. I need you to be more specific,” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he didn’t even look up from his phone.

“I just saw what I’m pretty sure was all my belongings being moved into the building,” you said.

“Oh yes, that. Well, I had wanted to surprise you, but I guess it’s too late for that,” he said, somewhat absently, “I hate that you have to take such a long commute to the other side of town. And I know all the apartments there are so run down, I figured I’d just move you into the studio like a lot of our other valued staff.”

What? While it was true your apartment was kind of rinky dinky, it was yours. And you liked the privacy and soft solitude it offered after work. Besides, you didn’t like the idea of your boss just moving you willy nilly without your permission. Still, you didn’t want to show him you were upset.

“Vox, you don’t have to do this,” you said, “I’m ok with where I’m at. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Think of it as a courtesy as my secretary,” he said.

You could feel your entire face tighten as you got more frustrated. Some of it was probably starting to show, despite your best efforts.

“I never asked for this though,” you said, trying to tread carefully, “and I like my old apartment. I… I don’t really want this...”

“But you do want this,” he said, finally looking up at you, “You want to be in a nicer apartment, closer to work, safer, don’t you? You always want to be here.”

That… You supposed that was true. Something about his tone soothed you, sent a pleasant lull through your skull and made your body relax as he looked in your eyes. Your protests now seemed a bit foolish and childish. In all honesty, you supposed it just made sense that you move in to the studio. Everything you needed was here, truly, why would you want to live away from here? You did want a nicer apartment without the stressful commute.

“O-ok,” you said, a small uncomfortable feeling of doubt still in your stomach, “Yeah. That’s true. I do want to be here more… closer to the office...”

He smiled at that and walked over to you. He placed an arm around you, guiding you back to your own office.

“Of course you do! And besides I already had them move everything here, so why don’t you just go back to work, and they’ll have finished moving everything in by the time your shift is done,” Vox said, “I guarantee once you’ve had time to think it through you’ll be glad we did it.”

“If you say so,” you said.

As he walked you back to your desk, he continued his calming chatter.

“That’s a good girl. You and I both have a lot of work today, anyway, so I think we can agree that you should just focus on that for now,” he said as he nudged over to your desk.

You sat down and turned to the planner on your desk as you heard your boss walk into his personal office and closed the door. You just stare blankly for a good minute, feeling a little light, like you were on Zoloft before shaking your head back and forth. Might as well just go back to work. You could think more about this later.

---

It had been happening so slowly. One day, week, month at a time, Vox was implementing himself into your life inch by inch, despite the fact that the two of you weren’t bound on paper. He had moved you into the building, where you knew that you were almost constantly on camera. He kept you so loaded down with work you barely had a social life anymore, with no time to hang out with friends or date. The pay was ok, you supposed, but it felt minuscule compared to the amount of work he was expecting you to do on a daily basis.

And then there was the… weirder things that had been happening. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he had a way of getting you to forget about whatever it was you were upset about, at least for a little while. But it would always come back eventually, and as you thought about it more, it irritating you that he was dismissing your concerns.

You hadn’t really noticed it until he had gone on vacation for a week with the other Vees. You had been quite busy with work, but without him there to calm you down whenever your “concerns” came up, you realized that maybe you had let your priorities get a little askew. You needed a career change.

So, perhaps against your better judgment, a few days after he had returned, you had left a two weeks notice on his desk before he came in. It only took about fifteen minutes after he came in for him to summon you to his office.

“F/N? What is this?” he asked, holding out the letter.

“It’s my resignation,” you said, trying to sound steady and confident.

“I’m sorry… your what?” he said

“I-I regret to inform you that I will be moving out and relocating to the Doomsday Sector in two weeks,” you said, “I appreciate all that you’ve done here for me as I worked here, but I am making a career change.”

He looked baffled for a second, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying before chuckling a little.

“No, you’re not,” he said, “You don’t want to leave he-”

“Stop!” you yelled out with more force than you intended.

As soon as he had started speaking that familiar fuzzy feeling had entered your mind, and you had closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want him talking you out of this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you reopened your eyes, but didn’t really look at him, “But I don’t want to talk about this.”

It was awkwardly silent for a minute.

“Is it a pay thing?” he finally asked, “Because that can be adjusted. You do good work. I certainly wouldn’t mind paying you more.”

“It’s not a pay thing,” you said, “It’s not anything. I-I don’t want to talk about this, so I’m going to go-”

“You’re not leaving!” he said, slamming his fist on his desk.

You jumped, a little surprised at his reaction. While you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, you hadn’t expected him to be so volatile. He was always so calm and collected that this kind of reaction to something so minuscule confused you.

“Vox, I know you like my work, but I think you’re overreacting a little bit,” you said.

“Overreacting?” he said, looking pissed, “Overreacting?!”

He grasped at the air, a look of surprise entering his face when no chain appeared. You look at him bewildered. Had he really just tried to…?

“Vox, we don’t have a contract?” you said, “Did you forget that?”

Had he really gotten so comfy with you that he thought that you were another one of his little pets? To hell with the two week notice, you were going today.

“I think I should go back to work,” you said.

He didn’t say anything as you went back to your desk. You finished filing information extra fast that day, doing a bit of a sloppy job. As soon as it was noon, you left for what appeared to be a lunch break, but you had decided was actually going to be your escape.

This situation was getting uncomfortable. You hurried to your room and haphazardly threw clothes and necessities into your suitcase. Anything you left behind on accident you would just have to replace. On a final note, you shoved your wallet into your back pocket and walked over to the door.

Except it didn’t open. The nob didn’t even turn when you yanked on it. You tried it a few times, to no avail.

“Dammit,” you murmured under your breath, and you pounded your fist on the door.

You were about ready to start kicking it when you heard a burst of static behind you. You turned to see your boss coming in through the camera system. While it had always been an eerie feature to your arrangements, it was a million more times so to see Vox using it to his full advantage.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“None of your damn business!” you said, “I don’t know what security you have on this door, but you better take it off now or-”

“Or?” he asked.

Now it was your turn to look tense as he gave you a self-satisfied smirk. You could feel your face flushing in a quiet rage as he spoke. Though you were hiding them behind your back, you could feel your fists clenching, as well as the shape of you mouth hardening.

“Vox, you are being ridiculous! We don’t even have a contract! I’m not bound to you, so you can’t keep me here,” you said.

He cocked his head at you, raising an eyebrow, “Oh really now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his tone only pissed you off more.

“Yes, really!” you yelled, “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”

“And just how do you expect to do that?” asked Vox, “Jump out the window? I mean you could splatter yourself on the ground, but it’d be a bit rude considering I’ll have to send some unlucky interns to scrape you off the pavement and put you back in your room until you regenerate.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and clenching and unclenching your hands with an unnecessary amount of force. You tried to calm your voice down.

“Vox, I understand that you like the work I do for you, but you’re being ridiculous,” you said.

“You think this about work?” he said, “F/N, don’t act stupid. I can get a new secretary anytime I want, ten secretaries. You and I both know that’s not what this is about.”

You looked at him confused. It wasn’t?

“For someone who is so smart with data, you are being so unbelievably slow right now.”

He advanced on you, causing you to shrink against the frame of the door as he leaned over you. He pushed you against the wall and gripped your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. It all happened in a flash, too fast to register, and before you could realize it, he was pulling you into a rough kiss.

It wasn’t what you had expected, though it wasn’t as if you had thought a lot about what kissing your boss would feel like. On the rare occasions when you had wondered about it, you had assumed kissing Vox would be like kissing the screen of a laptop. Apparently though, he had a literal working mouth as you could clearly tell from the sensation of his tongue and even teeth connecting with your own. Your chin ached in his firm grip, which could have been more tender if it didn’t feel like he was keeping you from turning your face away. You tried to do so, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, he was so preoccupied.

He held you like this for a good two or three minutes, his saliva coating your mouth. Though it was barely there, you could feel a slight buzz to it, as if some of his electricity was in his fluids. He finally released you though, some of his spit getting on your lips as he removed himself. A sigh filled the air as your lips parted.

“Even better than I thought it would be,” he murmured

He shifted a bit and was leaning in for another kiss when you kicked him in the shins.

“Ow!” he said, releasing you and giving you time to dart away.

You had moved in a burst to the other side of the room, glaring at him with what you hoped was resentment. There was also something else though. A feeling of deep rooted anxiety and fear was stirring in full force, despite the fact that over the past few months you had been pushing it down as much as possible. You hoped he couldn’t see the weakness in you.

Whether he did or not though, you could tell he was visibly pissed for a minute. He finally got his features under control, but as he spoke his tone held all of the avarice that had left his face.

“Whatever,” he said, “Contract or not, you’re still mine, and you’re not going anywhere until you accept that. Throw a tantrum if you want to, but you’re stuck here.”

You watched as he went back into the camera system as easily as he had come. You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your arms.

[toruro]

— ✧ like crazy

it's gon' be a good night ... forever you and i (like crazy / jimin)

pairing: wen junhui x reader

description: you're at his mercy in the palm of his hand, but jun is just as wrapped around your little finger.

tags: smut (18+), soft dom! jun, choking, spit kink, finger sucking, jun calls u 'pretty' a lot, possibly the best smut i have written yet

w/c: 1.6k

a/n: i wrote this high and listening to like crazy on repeat. i apologize for the person i may have turned into.

"atta girl." cool fingers drift from your collar bone up your neck, tracing the curve of your jawline before tapping at your cheek. your lips part unconsciously, sucking in his digits as he presses the smooth pads of his fingers onto your tongue.

jun's cock is buried to the hilt inside your cunt, hips flush against yours as your legs cage him in. tears prick at the corners of your ryes, the feeling of both pain and pleasure blazing a fire across your skin. even after stretching you out with one, two, then three fingers, you're never quite prepared for the way he fills you up so nicely.

his fingers in your mouth are a kind distraction—a moment of peace before the storm you know is sure to come. two digits plunged into your mouth, swiveling in gently in and out, much like his cock would if he chose to stuff your lips with that instead. another time, jun thinks, groaning when you swipe your tongue over one of his fingers.

"easy," he hisses, slipping the filthy, slick fingers out of your puffy lips' hold. you look so pretty beneath him, hair dischelved, lips slightly agape, eyes glossy with lust clouded behind your tears—jun thanks his lucky fucking stars that he's the only one who'll ever get to see you like this. your soft pants draw him close, and he grows dizzy from the way your breaths are in sync with his—the intoxicating rhythm has his cock shifting inside of you when he moves to lace his dirtied hand with yours.

the little muffled noise you make when he drags achingly slow out of you has his length throbbing, and you swear you can feel every little curve and vein on the underside of his cock as they rub against you. "you're addicting," he moans when your fingers latch onto his, holding him so close he feels as if he's one with you. jun can't get enough of you, but with the way your pussy just sucks him in when he juts his hips forward is enough to tell him that you're equally as insatiable.

"jun," you gasp, using your free hand to hook your arm under one thigh and yank your leg up so he can angle himself further into you. "fuck—" the word comes out choked when his next thrust comes down on you brutally.

jun damn near winces when your walls clamp down on him, tight pussy hugging him so nicely—do you know how much you're driving him fucking crazy? "pretty mouth like that," he grunts as his hips toss out sharp thrusts that are increasing in force, but keeping their slow and steady pace, "shouldn't be saying such filthy words."

your hand under your leg grows trembles at his words, and you feel your body already starting to go limp. looking up at him with sparkly eyes that glint under the deep red lights that encase the room, soft apologies slip from your lips. "sorry, junnie," your voice is soft and your body seems to grow more and more pliant, skin pressing against his.

when he lets go of your hand and thrusts shallowly while adjusting his position above you, you're about to spew out desperate words of protest, but the words shrivel on your tongue when that same hand wraps around your throat. your eyes flicker up at him and suddenly the red light becomes even deeper, accentuating jun's features.

he looks so beautiful under the light, dark shadows hugging his jawline and chiseled cheekbones. the brightness of his blonde hair and pearly whites reflect under the warm glow, your heart racing with love and excitement. jun's grip on your neck is firm—it's possessive, it's demanding, it's hot.

you'll do anything for him, and he'll do anything for you.

with one thumb stroking your jaw, jun returns to deep thrusts, this new angle having his tip kiss your cervix. "this pussy made for me, huh?" he groans, glancing down at the wetness that runs all over his length, dripping between your folds and down his balls. the slick causes a filthy sound to bounce off the bedroom walls but hardly audible with the way you're both moaning, panting, heaving for breath.

and it's so addicting, the way your sweet scent is mingling with jun's husky aroma. there's a bit of sweat glistening on his forehead, but all it makes him do is make him look like he's sparkling. you open your mouth to try and say something—say anything—but his eyes are darkening above you and everything is overwhelming your senses.

"my pretty baby can't speak?" jun murmurs, looking down at you with an amused glint when he tightens his grip on your neck. you can still breathe, but the pressure has your eyes lolling back and head nodding dumbly with what comes out of his mouth next. "need something to keep that pretty mouth busy?"

you expect his fingers again, if you're being honest. maybe it's the lack of blood flow to your head, maybe it's the way his cock is hitting all the right spots inside of you, maybe it's how you feel like you're high on his scent alone—you aren't thinking straight.

so when you open your mouth and feel a warm glob of spit drop down from jun's lips land on your tongue, you're surprised you don't cum on the spot. writhing against his hold, you whine when you realize that he's got you trapped. you're trapped, caged in, secure in his hold, but the way he's looking down at you so adoringly reminds you that you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

if there's a heaven, there isn't a doubt in your mind that it's here. here in this moment between you and jun, so close, so in love, so high on the feeling of being connected. time stops around you two when he brings up a finger to brush some stray spit and drool off your chin, your skin soft and supple under his touch. "god, i fucking love you."

his crushing hold on your throat is too much for you to formulate a response, but jun doesn't care. he doesn't need to hear your response because he knows what you have to say. he knows you love him, and he knows that it's either you together or nothing.

and fuck, you're so beautiful to him under the dim lighting, the curve of your tits bouncing up and down as his thrusts begin to become more sloppy, more erratic as the high you're both chasing edges closer and closer. your hands by your side grip tightly at the sheets and jun is reminded that he's still got your neck under him.

"hold both your legs up for me, pretty," he order, finally letting go of your neck. your vision goes black and white for a sparing moment, senses being knocked back into place before being plunged back into shambles when jun slams into you harder than ever before. the bed slams against the wall, mattress creaking when you quickly scramble to hold both of your legs back, knees pushing up achingly close to your chest.

"junnie—fuck!" you cry out, and the nickname you use has a growl rumbling deep in his throat as he pounds his cock right back into your sopping mess. his fat tip bullies that one sensitive, tender patch in your cunt and you can finally thrash your limbs around freely, yanking jun's face down to press your lips onto his.

you two kiss sloppily, teeth clashing, tongues slipping in and out of lips in a heated mess, wetness coating your chins and cheeks as his hair falls against the side of your face. the sensation is so light it sends shivers down your spine and your legs begin to shake.

"i love it," you moan against jun's warm lips, your head void of any thoughts that aren't him and his cock.

"love what?" jun punctuates the word with sharp snap that you're sure nearly splits you in two.

"you!" you wail, the feeling of it all crashing down on you. you orgasm has been bubbling up for a while now, but with the sheer force and love that jun is pounding into you, you can't take it any longer. "love you," your words come out broken and your eyes shut tight as you experience this moment in high definition, orgasm wracking through your body.

jun's soft whispers of, "cum f'me, pretty," as he hovers above your face drive you off the edge at such a speed that it has your vision blacking out, and then there's the familiar twitch of his cock inside of you and your fluttering pussy gapes around him as thick spurts of cum fill you to the hilt, the milky white liquid leaking out of your hole and adding to the dirty mess that pools over the sheets.

his head falls against your shoulder as you both heave for air, and jun can feel himself growing hard again when he glances down at way you've creamed his cock, his fingers digging into your hips as he slips his half-hard cock out of your drooling cunt. the tip brushes against your tender clit, and your body jerks at the contact, teeth biting down on your bottom lip to muffle the squeak that threatens to rip through.

pressing a soft kiss into your shoulder blade, he lifts his head to gaze down at you hazily. the room is dark, but you've since adjusted to the red, dim lights. he's gorgeous, you think, bringing up one hand to cradle the side of his face. he grins at the gesture, his heart swelling ten times its size in his chest.

"baby," jun whispers, voice low and hoarse. "you're going to drive me crazy."

[amhrosina]

Frank With An Inexperienced Reader

a/n: the request was for frank AND matt, but i haven't written matt's headcanons yet, so here's frankie-poo's for now

warnings: virgin!reader becoming notvirgin!reader lmfao, age gap, smut obviously, frank talks you through it, oral (fem receiving), fingering, the usual smut stuff, etc.

Frank would be hesitant at first when you ask him to take your virginity. You’ve done other stuff with him, but you’ve never gone all the way, and he’s nervous about taking that away from you.

Like you’re so much younger than him, and he doesn’t want to take advantage of you, but holy shit you’re so pretty and he can’t deny you anything so he just takes it really slow instead and gives you the power to choose when/where it happens.

You’re just as nervous as he is about it but for different reasons obviously. He’s so experienced and you’re the exact opposite and you spend at least a week freaking out about it before finally giving in and showing up at his apartment to be properly fucked.

When I say he takes it slow, I mean he takes it S L O W.

You’re trying to unbuckle his belt but you’re so nervous that you’re visibly shaking, so he gently takes your hands in his and kisses your fingertips and tells you to slow down for a second.

“Let me do this for you, okay? I’ll take good care of you.”

You tell him that you’re nervous because you want it to be good for him but you don’t know how to make it good for him.

He smirks and shakes his head. “You don’t gotta worry about me, sweets. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. You’ll be perfect.”

He begins pressing unhurried kisses to your lips and jaw, gingerly making his way to your neck. You’re already so turned on that you can feel the slickness of your arousal between your legs. 

He moves at an achingly slow pace, pulling your clothing off piece by piece, leaving kisses in the wake of his removal, until you’re standing in front of him in your underwear. 

He presses sultry kisses to your nipples, softly flicking the nubs with his tongue because he knows you love it when he does that.

“Can I pull these off?” His fingers are resting on your hip bones underneath the fabric of your underwear. You nod your head eagerly because it’s Frank and you couldn’t imagine anyone else being this gentle with you.

When he lays you on the bed, spread bare for him, you’re still a little nervous. (He’s so big and you can see why people are afraid of him when he’s in Punisher mode but also like, he’s so dreamy).

Also if we’re basing Frank’s length off of the rumors about Bernthal’s, ummmm let’s just say the man’s very well endowed. This makes you even more nervous because WOW.

“We can stop at any time, okay? Just say the word and I’ll stop. I won’t get mad. I promise.”

You try not to groan at how incredibly sexy he looks reassuring you.

Frank knows it’s going to hurt, but he still wants to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for you, so he does everything in his power to make sure you’re nice and ready for him.

“Can I taste you, baby?”

When he buries his tongue in your folds, you quite literally can’t hold yourself together. You fall apart on his tongue not once, but twice before he finally relents and begins pumping a finger in and out of you.

You’re so wet that it easily slides in and out, and when he adds another digit, and another, you’re coming apart around him again. 

When it’s finally time for him to push into you, you’re so blissed out in pleasure that your nervousness has subsided, but he’s still gentle and cautious.

You tense up almost immediately because it hurts, and he almost pulls out because he never wants to see that look on your face again (especially not because of him!)

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. Just breathe, okay? It’ll feel good soon.”

Frank refuses to move until you give him a slight nod, hovering over you and kissing the tension out of your clenched features. 

When the pain finally subsides and you ask him to move, he’s really really gentle with his thrusts even though he’s dying to pound into you.

He praises you the entire time.

“You’re so wet, baby.” “You look so good like this.” “You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.” “Fuck, baby, you’re perfect.”

He’s always been an observant man, but watching you moan, writh, and arch into him is something he’d like to observe for the rest of his life (if you’ll let him)

When you come apart around him, you unintentionally clench around him and it takes everything in him to hold himself together.

When you ask him to fill you up, his thrusts stutter out of pure shock. 

“Naughty girl. Who taught you that?”

You’re grinning up at him, blinking your perfect doe eyes, and he can’t tell if it's the hormones or the fact that he’s buried deep inside you, but he thinks he might have just fallen deeper in love with you.

You hold him close to you as he fills you up, and when he collapses next to you, you’re both blissed out and sweaty and in love and you feel warm and fuzzy about it all.

“Are you okay?” He’s concerned that he may have hurt you.

“Let’s do that again!” You’re not hurt in the slightest (lol).

Cue both of you giggling like teenagers.

Obviously Frank is an aftercare king so after he cleans you up, he runs his fingers over your skin in a soothing pattern.

When you ask if it was good for him, he’s quick to reassure you.

“It was perfect, baby. You’re perfect.”

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[destinygoldenstar]

What Separates Digital Circus’s Horror From Others

Disturbing.

Unnerving.

TERRIFYING.

BUT WHY?!

On the surface to the… five people that never watched The Amazing Digital Circus Pilot, this show looks like a Five Nights At Freddy’s knock off.

It’s a cute mascot show that is actually secretly a horror monster infested world.

Even people who haven’t seen FNAF at least seen a few clips of it and what it’s famous for. I know I have.

My sister is super into this, and she hogs the TV, so… RIP me.

That’s what most non-horror stans usually view horror as.

The jumpscares.

The unnerving imagery.

The designs made to freak out the viewers and make them uncomfortable.

It’s usually quite obvious when something is a horror, cause these aspects are often front and center. You can usually tell it’s a trailer of a horror movie by just looking at it.

At least, from my, a non-horror lover’s understanding. For some reason these sorts of things, especially indie animated ones, are the faces of a lot of content farms.

If the product itself isn’t r@%ing your audience, it’s those.

(TAKE MY WARNING AND TAKE IT SERIOUSLY: IF YOU VALUE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH AND YOUR SANITY, DO NOT LOOK UP THIS MOVIE)

BUT BACK ON SUBJECT.

Digital Circus… doesn’t really have this stuff.

There’s no jumpscares.

(I mean there is in a trailer, but it’s used as a joke.)

The character designs are very cute looking without any alternate versions that are scary.

And the imagery of the show remains cute and fun all throughout. The darkest it gets is in a realistic looking office.

But there are no jumpscares in that scene.

It’s just… a normal office.

If this was a horror, then perfect opportunity, right?

So… what’s going on here?

This, my friends, is why Digital Circus is not your typical indie animated horror flick.

And why people even call it ‘scary’ at all.

Here’s the trick this show uses.

It’s not the imagery.

It’s not the designs.

It’s not even intentionally trying to scare you.

Caine is not intentionally trying to scare the audience. He’s just acting like an A.I.

Yeah he has SOME unnerving moments.

But compared to THIS:

I’d say Caine is pretty tame.

Maybe it’s an indicator that he’s secretly a monster like the Other Mother in Coraline.

That horror flick is about the host lying to the protagonist and revealing their horror-like appearance later on.

But not only was it confirmed that Caine is NOT evil. But look at his design right away and his presentation.

There is no sign so far that he lies about anything. At least not what he doesn’t know.

Yes he lied about the exit. But the exit ITSELF was the thing that sent you to the VOID. So really he kinda tried to protect them.

If he didn’t, he’d let jester girl eject herself like Among Us.

So why is it unnerving?

Because it’s the POV we the audience are in for most of the episode: Pomni.

Pomni is an Audience Surrogate.

Audience Surrogates are characters designed specifically to be a placeholder for the audience.

People usually assume this trope as the character made to be the bland and generic one. But that’s actually not true.

An audience surrogate can be as simple as a First Person POV. As all it means is that the character is designed to have the same reactions the audience would in the situation they would find themselves in.

Course, not speaking for everybody, but majority that would consume the content.

Thus, with Pomni as the audience surrogate, we the audience are thrusted into her shoes the whole time. We feel the fear she does. We are experiencing the circus the same time she does.

Notice the editing in some scenes. Specifically the scenes Pomni is NOT in.

When Pomni is in a scene, there’s usually some change in lighting or camera movement that’s unnerving.

But when she isn’t in a scene, these editing moves aren’t there at all.

Which makes it pretty easy to suggest that these unnerving edits are just what’s going on in Pomni’s head.

So with that, when she’s scared. We’re scared. We’re in her POV.

But she’s scared all the time. That’s just her average personality, right?

Then why make these specific edits?

Let’s think about this:

This character is trapped in a world that isn’t her own. Everything is unusual, and she wants out. But instantly realizes there’s no escape.

And then gets told this is her new home and her new body.

A home she doesn’t recognize. And a body she doesn’t even know the name of.

She lost all sense of identity in an instant. Losing everything about herself in an instant. To the point where she can’t even remember what she was before.

And to make matters worse, because this is unusual, everything SEEMS terrifying. Even to those trying to help her adjust.

The only way out of such a confusing and terrifying world is to escape. Which is what she tries to find the entire time.

So THEREFORE:

The horror is this show is NOT the jumpscares or the creepy images.

The horror is THE VIEWER’S MIND.

This show constantly destroys your mind and breaks you through Pomni.

The idea of losing everything about yourself and being trapped in something unfamiliar forever. That IS terrifying.

If you were in this situation, you’d probably freak out even if you were the bravest being ever.

So it’s not about how scary the scene is on the outside.

It’s about what you’re THINKING that’s scary.

Ragatha’s distress monologue is not scary on the outside. But if you actually take into consideration what she says.

THATS terrifying.

That toys with your mind. And it also toys with Pomni’s.

The monster figure in the episode, the abstraction, is nowhere near as scary as something from FNAF

At least in my opinion.

Especially seeing what the monster does.

It can’t kill you. You’re just glitched.

Or maybe it CAN kill. But we never see that.

Even if Pomni ended up like Ragatha, Caine would’ve eventually came back, found them, and fixed them. And they would’ve been fine.

But then, rather out of nowhere, she STOPS.

And we get this shot.

I talked about this shot before. Said it quickly became one of my favorite shots in media.

This is why.

This shot makes me queasy every time.

The idea of looking in a mirror and not even being able to process or recognize yourself. Unable to even process your own reflection, that’s how unrecognizable you’ve become.

That’s horrifying.

And there’s no dialogue here either.

The episode effectively uses SHOW DONT TELL.

They SHOW you how scary the situation is. They SHOW you a single image that tells you everything.

It would’ve been so easy to just have Pomni say “I’m scared. I don’t recognize myself. Who is this person looking back at me?”

But no

They DON’T insult their audience.

They don’t TELL you.

They let you sink it in yourself.

Pomni doesn’t even have ANY lines after she goes through the exit door. And yet the shots after that with her have been plastered everywhere. Why? Cause she doesn’t need to tell you her mental state. You’re SHOWN it.

Can someone PLEASE tell the live action Avatar The Last Airbender that?!

Speaking of the office scene. This is the only moment in the show that looks… real. Not that cartoony.

Which I guess being in a setting that’s off putting from the rest makes it creepy, right?

Well not really.

Sure she’s running through rooms that seem to be repeating, which that of itself is sanity breaking. It reminds me a lot of another existential horror: The Stanley Parable.

But while that game is excellent and the monologue that plays in that ending is one of my favorites, it IS just telling you the sanity of the player.

Not that there’s anything wrong with this in that games style. There’s no other way that could’ve been done in that game.

Here, again, there’s no dialogue. It’s just Pomni running through these desperate for the exit.

The scary part about this is that we KNOW the absolute DESPERATION she has.

Even if we couldn’t see her face, that’s still across because we’ve seen it the entire episode.

And then there’s her break.

She snaps at the sight of a desk, and gets fangs, that of a FNAF character. But only for a second. She doesn’t even go out at the camera with them. She goes on her merry way.

But Pomni, being the POV character, really doesn’t have much to be scared at about her.

So why is this terrifying? Why not go all the way if this is supposed to be a jumpscare?

Well cause it’s not.

A way to scare your audience is to make them feel dread. Lingering longing dread. Sometimes irrational dread.

People with anxiety especially get scared at things even when they’re completely safe. They feel an unease in their stomachs. They feel unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to put it into words at all.

It could be because we saw something unnerving that stays in our subconscious. It could be because we’re nervous about something coming up. It could be because we’re in an uncomfortable situation.

Either way, anything even remotely resembling that triggering thing can break someone to feel this anxiety. Sometimes even something as simple as the dark. Even if we know we’re completely safe.

(Speaking as a person with anxiety myself)

She only snaps and cackles when she sees a random desk with a computer. Which also has the headset she put on there. The thing that got her in this.

But you might not have even seen the headset on your first viewing. I didn’t.

But your subconscious sees it. The environment not being like the others aids in unnerving you and making it hard to process what you’re looking at.

Why is this terrifying? Why does it break you? Why does it mentally break Pomni? We don’t know. It just does.

We’ve been stuck going through doors in repeating rooms for hours.

Fear makes you not able to overthink it.

So all of that is build up to the near perfect shot of Pomni at the brink of snapping at the dinner table. With the others voices blurred in her mind. As all she can do is fake a smile.

Terrifying End.

It’s not scary because it’s scary. It’s scary because it toys with the character, and the viewer’s mind

Now, is Digital Circus the first media to do this technique?

No. Not at all.

One of the most acclaimed animated movies, Spirited Away, also uses these exact same tactics for example.

That’s obviously a master class at this tactic. And it scared me as a child as a result. For all these exact same reasons.

It’s not a horror. Not traditionally. It’s not trying to scare you. But it does anyway cause in your mind it’s a scary concept.

And also, well, Spirited Away is a completed story as of the time this post comes out.

And Digital Circus only has one episode. But we did get confirmation this would be a series. And I personally have high hopes that this brilliant tactic is kept. From the trailer, it does seem like they’re not forgetting the stuff I bring up here. So I hope this works out for the creators despite the drama and the internet BS surrounding this show.

But even if not, we at least get one case in this show where we all want to curl up in a ball and cry

Us too Pomni. Us too.

Thank you for reading my… analysis a ton of people made before me, and probably better. Happy day for you all.

[snipersfucker]

Hello :)

I saw that you were taking Mirage request and I wanted to ask if you can do Mirage x a fem reader were Mirage has a crush on the reader and has the habit of holding her like she is a cat and also maybe a confession? :D *the picture is a example XD*

this is so cute oh my

Mirage was a good friend.

Ever since Noah introduced him to you, he's been nothing but kind. Always finding time to talk to you and see you, even though he had his Autobot duties, always making sure you were either laughing or smiling, never allowing you to feel down when you were around him.

It's always been like that. And the idea that these little, innocent touches of his metal skin on yours, his optics that stayed on your face just a bit longer than anybody else's, the sweet, teasing nicknames he'd use when talking to you, would be anything other than Mirage being a good, caring friend has never really crossed your mind.

A robot fancying a human? That sounded absolutely insane.

But not to him. Oh, not once has he thought of his feelings towards you as not possible, strange, inappropriate. He'd rather describe anyone not being completely head-over-heels for you as such. It was just so easy for him to fall for you, it came naturally.

At the same time, as much as he'd love to just be around you all the time, hold you like the most precious treasure that you were, and call you his, he'd rather fight Scourge again than risk ruining your friendship because you didn't reciprocate his crush. And as self-confident as he might sound, he was quite unsure of whether you felt the same or was just being friendly.

So he didn't tell you anything. He stayed silent, bottling everything up, just trying to enjoy his moments with you, occasionally allowing himself to do something more, to get a bit closer to you than he normally would. Something that'd be more intimate than just sitting next to you, something that'd let him actually feel you.

And, God, he felt bad. He did feel bad for his touches not being completely innocent, even though he couldn't even imagine disrespecting you by crossing any of your boundaries. He just needed something more.

So there he was, standing in front of you, his servos on his hips as he looked down at you with his signature smirk.

"You seen these muscles?" he asked nonchalantly as if he wasn't going to flex his strength just now, lazily motioning to his upper half with a digit, "I could lift seven trucks with one hand," he added, his tone not changing its colour.

He might've been exaggerating but it was for comedic purposes only so he could do that.

When you asked him how many pounds he'd be able to lift, you weren't exactly expecting an honest answer. Mirage both liked to act all tough and strong, but you also knew that he's never really checked how much weight he could actually pick up. So the conversation just turned into a playful banter as per usual.

"I weight eight trucks," you said with a straight face. These words left your mouth not because you were trying to sound like an insecure attention-seeker, but because you wanted to tease him. And it was best done by doubting his abilities and deflating his huge ego. "Don't think you can handle that."

It was childish and you were well aware of it but you enjoyed it too much to stop. It's always been like that and you hoped it'd never be any different.

"Oh, you should see the things I've handled..." he trailed off, the look on his face indicating that the stuff he was referring to was at least impressive. He knew you weren't serious, and you were aware of his actual strength.

His tone was funny. As if he was trying to appear at least a bit humble but failing tremendously. With his chin higher, optical ridges slightly raised, a confident smile on his face plate, he looked like a typical show-off, almost typical Mirage.

The sight made you snicker quietly under your nose.

You didn't know the direction the conversation was going in but he did. He knew what he wanted to do and he knew it was one of the rare occasions in which he was be able to allow himself to do something more, just like he'd craved for a long time.

His reaction to your small laugh was immediate. Even though you weren't making fun of him, he could pretend that it offended him. That you provoked him to prove you otherwise, that he could, in fact, lift you up with ease. So he lowered himself just enough for his servos to meet your body, wrapped them gently around your waist and picked you up. Just like a person holding a cat.

Now that your eyes were on the level of his optics, although not close enough for your warm breath to hit his face plate, you could see his confident smirk in its full glory.

"Show-off," you muttered under your breath with a small smile, even though you knew he could hear you, his audio receptors picking up on most sounds in a very big radius.

She's so soft. She's so soft...

"Oh, yeah," he scoffed, shaking his head in amusement, not letting you see how much he wanted to just keep you between his servos forever. "It's okay, dude, you can just say that you wanted me to hold you, I won't judge," he added, his tone light, casual, projecting. He shrugged with nonchalance on his face as if it was actually the truth and he wouldn't be mad at you if you wanted him to touch you like that.

Projecting.

And he called you dude. He called you dude because sweetheart felt too intimate at the moment, too heartfelt, as if he was scared that the position you two were in and that nickname rolling off his glossa towards your ears would make you realise he likes you. And he didn't want that.

"I feel like a damn cat, M..." you muttered again, placing your hands on his in a poor attempt to push them away for your body. But your smile betrayed you.

His spark almost exploded when he felt your warm hands on his metal ones.

"I'll let you sell me if you meow right now."

He had to say something, otherwise you'd notice the hearts in his optics that appeared when he was staring at you.

His words made you giggle and shake your head in amusement. "I'd sell you without you even realising it," you decided to respond with something more sassy, a smirk and a raised eyebrow only adding to the whole effect.

"You'd get rid of that pretty face?" He tilted his helm slightly, attempting to sound offended and hurt by your statement.

You shook your head in amusement again, letting out a soft sigh.

Mirage gasped dramatically, his face again showing pretend hurt. "You don't think I'm pretty?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

He loved every second of it.

You looked up at him, turning your lips into a thin line, as if you didn't have enough courage to tell him that you, in fact, didn't find him pretty, even though you did.

"You..." he gasped again, and if he wasn't holding you in his hands, he would put his servo on his spark just to add another dramatic effect. Then, a brilliant idea crossed his mind, "Air jail."

He turned his head to the side as much as he could to still be able to see you in his peripheral vision, straightening his arms fully so that you were as far from him as possible but still touching him.

"Mirage," you said his names as a warning. He knew you wanted him to place you on the floor again but air jail was definitely a real thing in his world.

"You deserve it," he said, his tone mean but not actually sounding like he meant it.

She's so cute. So cute...

"Mirage," you repeated his name sternly, although still playfully enough for him to know that you wanted this to continue, and his spark sped up.

"Tell me I'm pretty."

He sounded like a little toddler throwing a fit which nearly made you giggle but you decided to play along.

"...No."

So warm, so warm...

He scoffed at the word. Dramatically. Just to let you know you didn't actually hurt his feelings.

"You asked for it," he said nonchalantly, fake offence still lingering somewhere in his tone.

He felt smart. So smart for making something up just so he could hold you for a little longer, hoping you wouldn't mind if he did it playfully some time in the future again.

A few moments passed. The only thing he could focus on was your skin against his. The silence normally wouldn't bother him much but this time he felt as if you could practically hear his thoughts about yourself.

"Okay, Jesus. You're pretty," you muttered, rolling your eyes. The slight curl of your lips betrayed you again.

He was not expecting you to actually say that. His helm turned in your direction way faster than he wanted. He thanked Primus his optics didn't get as wide as they probably would've if he hadn't stopped them in time.

He knew you said it only because you wanted him to put you down on the ground. But the warmth that spread all over his metal body felt nicer than it probably should.

"Somebody's gotta crush on me..." he cooed teasingly just to cover up his own sudden nervousness.

You rolled your eyes again with a smirk.

"Floor, M."

Her voice is so soft...

He obliged. Of course he obliged, you told him exactly what he wanted to hear, you looked so pretty in his hands, you felt so warm...

You were standing on the ground again, hands on your hips as you looked up at his satisfied face plate. Cocky as always.

...And so that little thing that he came up with on spot became a part of your daily playful banters. You'd say something he didn't like, you'd end up in air jail.

You didn't mind, really, and found it rather amusing than any other thing. And this time was no different.

A few weeks after the invention of air jail, he did it again for the tenth time.

"You know I'm not putting you down till you say it, man."

Again, any other pet name sounded too intimate and it has not changed since the first time he had you in this position.

You were aware what you had to do, but it didn't stop you from being a disobeying little shit, denying him the things he wanted to hear from you.

"Airazor wouldn't date you."

He knew she wouldn't, he knew he didn't even want her to, but it was another excuse for him to hold you in his hands.

"Wrong."

"Ask her."

"I can't hear you."

"Ask her if she'd date your annoying ass."

He gasped, shaking his helm in disapproval as he looked at you with fake disappointment.

"Damn..." he pretended to feel hurt by your words, a sad expression on his face plate.

You frowned, at first with confusion at his sudden change of demeanor, and then with worry. You were worried that you actually said too much, that you said something wrong.

And noticing the look on your face, Mirage's immediately lightened up, showing him that he was joking as per usual.

"I hate you," you said as soon as you noticed he wasn't actually affected my your words.

"Nah. You love me," he said nonchalantly, shrugging, acting as if it was actually true.

"Nope." You shook your head. "I'm afraid it's one-sided,' you added with fake pity, acting like it was him who loved you without you reciprocating it.

And even though you were absolutely joking, he panicked.

Could you possibly know about his feelings? Has he been too obvious? What was it? Was he supposed to play along? Or was it the right time to tell you that he fell for you so hard he couldn't bear the thought of not being around you for more than a minute?

"I love you," he blurted out and cussed himself out in his mind for doing it in such a... disappointing way.

It wasn't him. He knew it wasn't him. Old Mirage would have never confessed his feeling like that. He would have never even feel anything so strong towards another being, the idea of confessing it too distant that it would never even cross his mind.

You changed him.

It felt strange. It felt strange to say these three words to you, he stopped feeling like himself for a few moments.

Strange but at the same time... good. He could sense the relief washing over his body as the confession left his mouth but the weight of the fear of rejection was still suffocating.

He wanted to repeat it. The three words threatened to roll off his glossa again but he swallowed them, noticing the way you reacted to them the first time.

"M..." you trailed off, too stunned to say anything else.

He wished your voice was less soft. Less careful.

"Yep," he said awkwardly, putting you down on the floor immediately. He nodded to himself. "Shouldn't have said that."

He was close to cussing himself out in front of you but he wanted to both do it in his helm and then later when you'd be gone.

Gone from his life forever...

"Nope, I actually meant it," he corrected himself, not really knowing what to say, feeling extremely out of place, acting more awkwardly than ever. "Friend."

He called you a friend just to save himself but he was fully aware it might've been too late for that.

"I love you as a friend, dude," he added again, making a finger-gun with one of his servos and pointing it at you.

It was getting worse and worse with every passing second.

He looked at you, standing without any movements, searching for any positive reaction on your face.

"Mirage..."

You used his name which meant you were most likely about to tell him that you were sorry, and that you didn't feel the same, and that you didn't want to have him in your—

"I love you."

His spark stopped.

He kept staring at you but then finally managed to get the courage to ask, just to make sure, "As a friend?" His voice was sceptical, as if he was expecting a negative answer. Which he obviously was.

You took a deep breath in and gave him a soft look.

"Not as a friend, got it," he interpreted your non-verbal response, nodding to himself a couple of times, breaking eye contact to look at the garage wall in front of him to collect himself. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, "Well, unfortunately I love you as a friend, so..." he trailed off with an unserious look on his face plate, his funny self finally making a comeback.

You scoffed, crossing your arms on your chest and shaking your head in both disbelief and amusent.

The audacity this man had...

"Alright, fine," he groaned, pretending not to like what was about to leave his mouth, "I love you as maybe just a bit more than a friend."

"Mirage..." you warned him for the third time today.

"I love you as a lot more than a friend," he corrected himself, not wanting to push it too much.

The eye contact was back.

"You're makin' me wanna giggle right now," he said randomly, as if it was a normal thing to say after confessing his undying love to a woman.

You snorted.

"The giggles are getting stronger. I can't hold 'em back," he said in a slightly warning tone, the seriousness in it making your smile grown bigger.

You both stared at each other just for mere second before you both erupted with laughter.

He did giggle.

"I love you, man," he repeated when you both calmed down after a few moments, "And I will stop calling you man. Someday. Promise," he added when he realised he didn't use sweetheart this time either.

"Yeah, of course." You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement as you both looked into each other's eyes with warmth. "I love you, too."

And he smiled, finally feeling at home.

A/N: i used an insecure attention seeker instead of a pick-me even though i hate both but i couldn't really describe it differently lmao also, emotions give me an ick so it may be a bit cringey but we roll. and it's so bad (im just saying that so yall could give me compliments) cuz i haven't written anything in a while..... and the ending made me nearly throw up.....

[yellowjackets96]

i owe you a black eye and two kisses / angus tully x reader

summary / after defending your best friend’s honor in a scuffle with kountze, he decides to take first aid into his own hands.

warnings / mentions of blood, bruises, and general injuries

word count / 2K even!

heyyy, baby’s first x reader fanfiction! cannot believe i have been alive nearly twenty damn years and never once did this. who crode?

You cannot seem to remember when the blood started to pour from your mouth or the moment you realized Kountze’s nose should not be pointed in that direction, but both moments hit you like a freight train when Angus grabs your arm.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims, fingers prodding at the newborn black eye on your face. “You– you– my god.”

As cooly as possible, you pop your neck to the side and smirk. “Heh. All in a day’s work.”

“You could’ve killed him,” one of Kountze’s goons says, tending to his nose. The blonde bully is shell-shocked, a state of mind you previously believed to be inherently against his nasty nature.

You scoff, shrugging at the lackey. “I’m sure his daddy can help,” you remark, spinning around on your heel and striding out of the room, with a hyped Angus in tow. He’s so energized, he could probably shoot himself off the walls like a projectile and fly back to you like a boomerang.

“I can’t believe you had that in you,” he mutters, still quite bewildered by your sucker punch. “In all my years of knowing you…I don’t think he’ll ever bother me again, now.”

You turn slightly to grin at him. “Hey, I’m glad to hear it. Guy’s a real fuckface and a half. His reign of terror has gone on far too fucking long.”

Once you get to your modest dorm room towards the end of the hall, you feel Angus reach out and touch you once again, and he gazes at you sternly, his expression mirroring a way only your mom looks at you. You roll your eyes, hands not moving from turning the key in the door. “What’s the matter, Tully?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, a deep grimace on his face. “He was shit-talking me, not you. And now you’ve got a black eye, your lip is busted, and you could’ve lost teeth, and–”

You swiftly cut him off. “So? You’re my best friend. I was simply defending your honor. Little shit shouldn’t be able to get away with mocking your familial situation. It’s not like you can control it.” Twisting the knob to the side, you gently push the door open and step into the room, eyeing him slightly. “You can come in, if you’re not planning on lecturing me.”

“Well,” Angus says, shutting the door behind him. “You can ignore my chastising to high heaven, but you’re still going to need some wound care for the black-and-blue knuckles, swollen eye, and split lip. Even if you don’t wanna ice the bruises and bumps, though, you need to keep the lip stuff from the point of possible infections.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “Everything that could possibly hurt is just…dully throbbing. And I’m sure all the bleeding was due to how shallow the cuts were. I need nothing more than an ibuprofen and a bandaid.”

For the third time, the boy takes a grip on your arm, lanky digits wrapping around your cold skin gently enough to leave no mark, but firmly enough to stop you definitively in your tracks. “Sit down,” he states, the edge of hoarseness in his voice causing it to be barely above a whisper. “Now.”

You find his forceful tone compelling enough to follow his commands, pushing your swivel chair around until it faces forward and reluctantly take a seat. “Fine. Have it your way.”

“Thank you,” Angus says, winking at you before immediately diving headfirst into rummaging through your cabinets and drawers. “You’re gonna need the whole nine yards of first aid care here. Just be patient, okay? I know from you doing it for me that the process tends to be lengthy.”

“Whatever you say,” you murmur. “As long as you don’t break anything valuable during your expedition into my belongings.”

He turns to you with a hearty smirk, arms filled with cotton pads, alcohol wipes, hydrogen peroxide bottles, bandages, and tweezers, among multiple other things. “Oh yeah?” he says, seemingly challenging you as he places the supplies on the desk behind you. “And what would you do about it if I did?”

“Probably cut up my end of our friendship bracelets,” you reply, not missing a beat. “You don’t even wear yours, anyway.”

Angus does not even need to speak to refute your claim as he pushes his sweater sleeve past his watch, revealing the braided object in question is still on display on the part of his arm that no one can see. Your jaw goes slightly askew at the revelation. “I stand corrected.”

He chuckles, sufficiently satisfied with the exchange as he flips the cap open on one of the peroxide bottles, pressing it against a cotton pad. Once he determines it to be prepared enough for your bloodied mouth, he looks over at you, eyebrows furrowed in thought. A moment of contemplation passes – he closely scans your face up and down, down and up, enough times to be able to sketch it perfectly from memory, as he nods to himself. With a steady step forward, he places the pad between his thumb and pointer finger and goes in, forcefully dabbing it against your bottom lip. All of the miniscule amounts of warmth escapes your body as you roughly suck air in through your teeth, grabbing a fistful of the cuff of his sweater.

“Does that hurt?” Angus asks, wide brown eyes filled with an entire galaxy’s worth of concern. “Be honest with me.”

You grind your teeth, putting as much effort as humanly possible into a brave face. “It stings, that’s for sure.”

He quickly withdraws the soggy gauze from your mouth. “Good news, then, ‘cause I’m already done with it.”

“Shit!” you exclaim, hands flying up to your bottom lip. “Really?”

Snickering at your shocked face, Angus tilts his head to the side, examining your injuries again. “Yup. I think you were right about it being shallow. I’m no med student, but I don’t think it’s at risk of developing any kind of infection.

Melting back into the chair, your face is overtaken by a relaxed smile, in spite of yourself. A few seconds pass before curiosity overtakes you and you peer over your shoulder to ogle at his activity. You’re met with the completely ridiculous sight of him attempting to maneuver a bandaid into a jar of petroleum jelly. “Jesus, Angus!”

He can’t help himself from laughing at your reaction. “What? You didn’t have any ointment!”

“You said my lip’s fine!” you respond. “Unless you were trying to soften the blow of my oncoming sepsis by lying to me.”

He shakes his head emphatically. “No. I just wanted to see if I could make it hurt less for you.”

“It doesn’t,” you insist, waving him off.

“Really?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest in judgment, once again harkening back to something an authority figure in your life would do. “Then why were you tugging at my shirt like a damn seven-year-old at a grocery store?”

You scowl at him, face overtaken by a shade of red that only appears when you’re trying not to laugh at him. “I hate you.”

Angus laughs a sharp ha!, face wrinkled up in a simper as he pulls himself back up to your level, an ice pack in either hand. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t have kept me around for so long if you did.” He drops the ice packs in your lap and points at your cheek. “I can’t believe you were insisting on letting these wounds take care of themselves, dude. Your cheek’s swollen as hell.”

“How bad is it?” you curiously ask, brows quirked in thought.

“Well, the verdict’s already in that you’ll survive this,” he quips, earning a laugh from you. “So that’s out of the question, but if I didn’t already know you, I’d assume you either victoriously won or pitifully lost a professional boxing match.”

You playfully smack at his shoulder as he breaks into a laughing fit. “It was a compliment!” he defensively mutters, picking up one of the ice packs. “The thing’s a bona fide war wound, I swear. You look badass.”

“You should see the other guy,” you remark, watching him intently as Angus brings a hand up to your face, softly touching the ice pack to your bruise. “Also, I can’t believe you would call me badass. You must be buttering me up for the next time you have a bone to pick with Teddy.”

“Nah,” he denies, raising the pack slightly further up. “You’ve always been badass, ever since we were old enough to speak our minds. It’s a mindset in my eyes, since you never really looked like I imagined one being.”

Your face instantly softens as you gaze at him, studying the way he intently deals with something as uneventful as a bruised cheek. “You’re just being nice because I look like hell.”

Angus pulls his attention away from the ice pack to meet your lingering eyes. “I’m as serious as a car crash. You’ve always had this self-assured attitude, no matter who you were dealing with. The way that I don’t back down from a physical fight is exactly how you are in verbal sparring matches, but you’re, just, so much cooler in terms of that, ‘cause you refuse to relent on your beliefs. I could never be so firm when I speak to people, even if I try my very fuckin’ darndest.”

“I-I had-” you stammer heavily, effectively caught off-guard by his words. “No idea you thought so highly of me. That’s so incredibly sweet.”

“Well, you deserve to hear it,” he says, taking the ice pack off of your face. “You’ve been such a constant in my life, and I seriously don’t know who or where I would be without you. Hell, you even BEGGED your parents to let you transfer to every single school I ended up in post-expellings! I can’t help but idolize you. You were born with an insatiable fighting spirit. Nothing and nobody can get to you.”

Before you can form a single coherent thought, you blurt out four words you would never even dream of saying to Angus Tully. “Can I kiss you?”

Silence falls over the two of you like a curtain as Angus gazes up at you, eyes full of wonder, mouth hanging open. Before long, his lips turn upward in one of his signature smiles. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Lifting his hands up, he gingerly cups your cheeks with his hands and dives in, pressing your lips together in a delicate embrace. You close your eyes on impact, heart lighting up with an intensity you are not sure you have ever felt. Holy shit! Kountze must have killed you! This has to be heaven! The moments pass fleetingly before Angus finally pulls away, a genuine, natural, adorable little grin on his face as he sheepishly doesn’t face you, cheeks burning a soft, passionate pink. You must have been an idiot for never making a move all these years, but at least you finally got struck with the urge to do so.

“Y- your c-ch-” and now, like poetic justice, he is the one who’s been bitten by the stutter bug. “Your cheek looks better already. How about we get some ibuprofen in you and then we – okay, you have to step in if I embarrass myself here – step off of campus to go get some dinner?”

You’re smirking now, trying not to giggle at the unseen shy side he keeps so carefully locked away. “Angus Tully, are you asking me on a date?” He tries his very best not to avoid eye contact with you again as he nervously nods in confirmation. You reach out for his hand, interlocking your fingers together like puzzle pieces. “Well, then. I’d have to say what I’m sure you’ve been waiting to hear come out of my mouth all these years – yes.”

[works-of-heart]

A little chat about my art

-wip of a fox Lucien Vanserra (I plan to do a fawn elain too)

Over the course of a week or so, I have been getting harassed by anons who accused me of using AI in my work, and not being a legitimate artist. Most have been very, VERY accusatory and nasty and I was tempted to make an angry post about it then, but instead I just ignored them, deleted their comments and went on with life.

Yesterday morning I woke up to the ask about AI, and while I was fed up with all these sudden asks, the person who asked me was at least kind.

I don't know where the accusations started, I thought it might have been antis, but if I'm real about it, I don't think too many are looking at my stuff, say for the few strays I had in the past. Only one negative, and one quite positive.

I do not know if people understand what kind of accusations like that makes of an artist, but it IS hurtful! If people start spreading lies, people will believe them and with enough people believing them, it starts to look like it's true.

I have NEVER used AI in ANY of my works. EVER.

All of my work has all been done digitally on my tablets, using CSP. I have been drawing digitally for over 20 years. It is fine if you do not like my work, it's totally ok if you think my anime style is ugly or childish, it's alright if you think I'm not a great artist. All of that is fine, I respect everyone's opinion.

What is NOT ok, is saying that I am stealing art. That I am a fake who uses AI and I'm stealing from legitimate artists who put work into it. I've worked for my art all my life, since I was a child, with the only aspiration to share the wonders of my mind with the world. These accusations, these hurtful things cut very deep.

I've been a fan of Acotar since 2020, and in love with Elucien ever since then. When I looked online, I found that most Elucien/Lucien art was buried under mountains of Elriel. There are some amazing artists for Elriel, truly beautiful, but they were eclipsing any that I saw for my ship. The ones I found of Elucien were beautiful! Stunning diamonds that would often get lost under the mountains of fan art for the other ships.

So when I made a blog that would be more focused on my love of Acotar and Elucien, I made a vow to fill the space with Elucien art!

That is all I ever wanted to do. Was to be in a space I can geek out with others who love the ship as much as I do, to make pieces that make everyone feel. I spent hours working on my elucien comics, just because I wanted to share these with you all, to give the feels. I am a comic creator myself, I've been working as one for almost 10 years now, it is my job. So pushing these out are works of love.

This was my mother's day picture. I had 3 separate folders for Elain, Lucien, and their daughter. I worked very, very hard on this picture to get it out by the day, in celebration for mother's day. My work is always a bit rough in the beginning stages, but I promise, I put all the work into it. I've studied from other artists I admire, to put it into my own style, something unique to me. A style that I've drawn since HS and was constantly mocked for, because it's too 'anime' too 'asian' and not western enough. Still, that doesn't matter as long as people enjoy it, and I love what I do.

An elucien wip of a picture that I never finished.

A picture of a Non-Acotar work I did

Some of my work never sees the light of day... because I'm so self conscious about my work, about my art in general. I never think it's good enough, and I struggle with trying to finish them because I want to only put out what I think is worthy of being shown. Sharing my art is so incredibly nerve-wracking for me, the fear of judgment, of never feeling it's good enough. I put my all into my work, my whole heart and soul into them, and though I know I need more practice, but I am trying.

Suffice to say, I've never used any form of AI in my art, I've never stolen anyone's work and claimed it as my own. I have referenced poses every now and then, and painting styles that I've studied, but never have I EVER cheated through any of these pictures.

Had someone had a real concern, coming to me and asking politely would be fine. Thank you to the anon yesterday who was truly kind and showing concern, but I don't know where this started from. If you are concerned a work may be illegitimate, you can always DM the artists and ask them kindly, I am sure they will no doubt be willing to prove their work if only to confirm they're real. Witch hunts where you just deem someone of using AI and spreading rumors and lies does MORE harm to the art community than you think. Artists are already hesitant about uploading their work for fear it will be stolen or used, but claiming they use AI with NO PROOF, and spreading misinformation is not only doing damage and making sure they'll never want to post again, but it impacts the community as a whole.

That being said, I am still going to draw and paint and post my artwork. I have no intention of backing down. I just hope as a community we can do better and be kinder to people who are spending their free time making things and sharing with us all. It's incredibly vulnerable to put yourself out there, and just remember, we are people behind these screens.

[razorblade180]

9 days of Lancaster Day 8: Beach Day

Ruby:Jauuuuuune! You ready for next week’s team environmental bonding training!? AKA, the beach!?

Jaune:Umm, yeah. I’m sure it’ll be fun.

Ruby:..Don’t tell me you can’t swim?

Jaune:I can swim fine. Although if I’m honest I’m probably build a sandcastle or something. Maybe read.

Ruby:You sound like Blake. I need you amped! We gotta wipe Yang’s smug look off her face in volleyball.

Jaune:As long as Nora’s on our team.

Ruby:Obviously. Hey, are you already done packing? I didn’t even see you shop.

Jaune:Ren got most of the travel stuff like sunscreen.

Ruby:You owned beach clothes already?

Jaune:I mean…sorta? I have trunks and y’know, a cozy top.

Ruby:Like a divine shirt?

Jaune:More like a…beach hoodie.

Ruby:Jaune, it’s gonna be in the triple digits when we go.

Jaune:I’ll live.

Ruby:Yeah in an emergency room! What’s with you? Do you have a weird scar or something?

Jaune:No. I…*rubs arm* I don’t know. Being shirtless really isn’t my thing. Never had the confidence.

Ruby:Really? I mean i get it; especially before training but you look good! Nora calls you Mr. Muscle.

Jaune:Hehe, yeah it’s a wild thing. I know it’s in my head but after getting picked on when I was younger I kinda became self conscious. Hoodies have always felt cozier after that.

Ruby:….Wanna make a deal?

Jaune:A deal?

Ruby:I actually have been trying to gain more confidence in myself and shake off some awkwardness. I was planning on wearing this older one piece I own. But, there’s also a part of me that wants to try a bikini for the first time. If you step out of your comfort zone then I will do it too. We can be awkward together.

Jaune:I bet you would look nice in a one piece though.

Ruby:….

Jaune:..Yeah, that didn’t sound quite right coming from your boyfriend in this situation.

Ruby:I got the sentiment, but yeah. Not your finest moment. *holds his hands* Let’s take the plunge together. We can even be a little gross and get matching outfits. *smiles*

Jaune:Haha. That would be something, wouldn’t it? I…eh, why not? Sure, let’s try.

Ruby:Yussss!

xxxxxx

The fateful day arrived. After lots of second guessing himself, Jaune stood on corse hot sand underneath a recently planted umbrella . His hoodie was nowhere in sight and his new white swimming trunks fit nicely. All he knew about the design was the at the right leg had a gray pail pouring water out of it like one of those watering buckets.

???: Nora might be onto something with Mr. Muscle.

He turned around to see a red reaper holding her beach bag. More importantly, on her was the bikini she picked in secret. It was the average cut for a standard bikini, with the top being green on the straps and upper rim. Meanwhile, the cups and bottom were bright red with a few yellowish specks. Jaune quickly realized Ruby was a red as the strawberry design she chose.

Ruby:S-So? Any thoughts? How do I look?

Jaune:Edible.

Ruby:!?

Jaune:That’s not- I mean- *covers face*…. You look really nice. Man this hasn’t been my week.

Ruby removed the boy’s hands to get a good look at him. He wasn’t as cut as her but man did he bulk up! Not too much though. Jaune was still pretty lean and Ruby found that wonderful. She moved her arms under his own and gave a gentle hug while her fingers traced his back.

Ruby:If ya ask me, you look, feel, and smell good. I’m one lucky gal.

Jaune:*red* Thanks. I’m pretty lucky too. *hugs her*

Ruby:Well your luck isn’t over. I kinda need your help. *pulls out sunscreen*

Jaune:..You’re really trying give me a heart attack.

Ruby:Hahaha!

[prettyboyformasks]

i need trans Gaz, anything please!!! Maybe having him cuddling in bed while you finger him. Just some fluffy stuff with praise and love. Thank you 😊

gaz is such a sweetheart. cuddling you every night and morning, helping you do chores around the house, cooking for you.

so why not return the favour?

as gaz climbs into bed with you, ready to cuddle, you surprise him by pulling his body on top of yours. this earns a little giggle from him.

"what're you doin'?" gaz asks with a quirked brow, his hands on your chest. god, his hands are so soft. always feel so fucking good around your cock. "just showing you how much i appreciate you, pretty," you whisper, your hands sliding into his boxers. you push gaz to lay down on the bed, noticing the way his thick thighs bulge ever so slightly where the boxers hug them, and you can't help but lean forward to pepper kisses all over his beautiful, brown skin.

gaz shifts slightly, moving to get comfortable, but begins to whine. "i wanna cuddle, want you to hold me," he whispers, laying next to you. you agree, of course—you'd never deny gaz of his wants, not when he's so sweet to you.

however, while you're cuddling, you can't help but notice the way gaz rubs his cunt against your thigh. "you need something, puppy?" you ask quietly, your voice a low grumble. he's such a tease.

after a moment with no response, you look down at him to find his fingers in his mouth. a cute sight, it is. pretty boy's got his mouth stuffed with his pretty little fingers to muffle his pretty little noises. can't have that, can you? no, you've got to hear him. got to hear what he wants, what he needs.

"words, pretty boy." you whisper as you pull gaz's fingers out of his mouth, kissing his plump lips softly. "you, need you," he whispers breathlessly, his wet fingers moving to rub his cunt.

you chuckle at the sight—it's adorable, really. how quickly gaz's moods change, from wanting cuddles to wanting your fingers inside of him. of course, you have no complaints—you're quite lucky to be able to have such a pretty boyfriend.

your long fingers tap at gaz's soft lips, requesting entry. he obeys, as usual, and begins sucking on your fingers. "that's it, attaboy," you praise, moving your fingers in and out of his mouth. when he starts to beg and babble around your fingers, you finally pull them out.

you take a quick moment to strip him of his boxers, admiring his cunt. he hasn't shaved, but with the way his pubes curl so prettily around his soft lips, it's worth getting a hair or two stuck in your teeth (snack for later). you poke at his entrance, cooing at the way he bucks his hips into your touch. "you like that, baby? yeah?" you whisper, kissing his inner thighs. "so pretty for me, baby, so good for me," you praise as you slowly push your fingers inside, the heat of his warm cunt around your fingers nearly making you moan.

as gaz squirms beneath you, begging for you to push your fingers deeper, you look up to admire him. his big, brown eyes full of pleasure and desire. he's so beautiful. only when his cunt flutters around your digits do you snap back into the moment, giving gaz what he wants.

you bury your fingers in his cunt, poking at his cervix. judging by the way gaz's back arches and his voice goes up a few pitches, you can tell he likes it.

shifting to lay beside him rather than between his legs, you pull your fingers out for a moment to rub his clit in soothing circles. "shh, pretty boy. i've got'cha. taking my fingers real deep, yeah?" you murmur, plunging your fingers into his wet heat once more.

this earns a loud moan from gaz, his arms wrapping around you. all he wants is to be close to you—how sweet. you rub his back, kissing the top of his head as your fingers slide in and out of his cunt. "there we go.. just like that, baby," you coo, curling your fingers against his sweet spot. gaz's nails dig into your back as he grinds down on your fingers, whimpering. "please, gonna cum, please," he begs you, his thighs shaking.

you thrust your fingers harder and harder inside of him, earning soft "ah, ah, ahs" from gaz. when he finally cums, he shakes as he holds you tightly, burying his face in your neck.

the two of you stay like that for a long while. you praise him while he catches his breath, holding onto you. "shh, you did so good, pretty. took my fingers like a good boy. so proud of you." you murmur, kissing his temple.

[atanxdoesstuff]

"Whenever I die... my memories are uploaded into a new body. But are they really 'mine'?"

aand my WIP is done! done-ish. idk what to add anymore; rendering is a social construct

ramblings + timelapse under the cut!

awright, so this piece was originally part of a comic-thing that i sketched out in my sketchbook. but it was just something i slapped on figuring i'd rework the composition later. well, i couldn't. it was too crowded. so this is severely reduced from the original plan.

the gist of it is that: obv the top left connor is connor-51. the side connor is actually connor-52. 51 died in "the hostage", but he did still manage to save emma! (i blame dbh youtube poop for making me think connor and daniel could shoot each other. so even tho thats not canon, let's just pretend that happened here lol)

now when you move files on your device, you aren't actually moving them. what you're doing is essentially copying the file into a new location and erasing the original. and based on this premise, i have inflicted an existential crisis on 52! :D it's sort of similar to soma, and their brain scans. is 52 the same person as 51? is it a continued existence or did 51 as a person die on that terrace, with 52 just simulating continued existence?

the game has conflicting stances there: on one hand, connor often says shit like "my predecessor was destroyed", implying that he thinks he's a different person. on the other, he also says shit like "i'll be back" and "this isn't over". and additionally, if hank has chosen to force quit life but connor still turns deviant, connor gets wrecked by 60 and to win, "transfers" himself into 60's unharmed body. and this is framed like an actual transfer.

i feel like if the data is "moved", it's not the same person anymore. to ensure the data transfer doesn't essentially kill the person and resurrect them as a clone of themselves, I think you'd need to physically disconnect, move and reconnect the memory storage device. if we're basing android physiology on currently existing tech, at least. but that's just my headcanon i use to inflict existential dread.

and here's the timelapse! :))

as you can see I've struggled a lot with this work :P i think i got to a point where this looks pretty fine to me (i still really like how i drew 52 here), although it could deffo be better.

i really want to also draw markus more. i've never even made a proper illustration for him but honestly i tried to digitally paint the grenade launcher scene bc its so pretty and i failed miserably. painting in digital is so hard?? idk i should research some stuff on how to do that because i really want to paint that scene still.

also north. north with the grenade launcher :O fuck i want north with the grenade launcher.

[egophiliac]

Hello! Sorry to bother but do you have any digital art tips? I’m quite new to it and any tips, tricks or advice would be helpful! Your coloring style is very beautiful and I love it a lot!

thank you! 💚💚💚 sorry this is a bit late, hopefully there's still something helpful in it!

(also, it got pretty long, sorry!)

I think the biggest thing is to just take things slow -- digital art feels different than drawing traditionally, and it's SUPER easy to get overwhelmed by the billions of cool features that the digital world offers. (I say, as someone who spends a lot of time downloading cool brushes and textures...and then never using them ever.) there is a ton of really cool stuff you can do digitally, but because there's so much, I think it's really important to take time to figure out what is and isn't working for you. spend some time doodling without any intent to do a finished piece, figure out how you like to hold (or not hold) your tablet, what keyboard shortcuts you end up using a lot (and therefore might want to map to your pen/tablet buttons for quicker use)...that kind of thing!

everyone's workflow and preferred program and style are different, so it's hard to give hard-and-fast general advice. but the things that I think of as the essentials for learning digital art programs, and what I think of as a good order to focus on learning them in (although YMMV, especially depending on what kind of art you're doing):

brush customization (e.g. flow, opacity, softness)

layers and layer masks

selections and transformations (e.g. scale, rotate, flip horizontal/vertical, skew) (skew is underrated and I will die on that hill)

blending modes (e.g. multiply, screen)

adjustments/adjustment layers (e.g. hue/saturation, curves)

and I think most stuff after that is gravy! often very good gravy though! but yeah, as overall advice I recommend just taking things one little bit at a time, spending some time just drawing and messing around with each feature and what you can do with it. whether or not you end up incorporating any of it into your workflow, it's always good to try things out and just see how they feel! :D

and just so there is at least a little more concrete helpfulness in here, here's a few more specific things that I think are super important to keep in mind!

use! your! tablet/pen buttons! I mentioned this earlier, but they are extremely useful for keyboard shortcuts that you use often! most programs will also let you create new shortcuts for other things -- personally, I use the magic wand tool to fill in big color blocks a lot, so I made shortcuts for 'expand selection' and 'fill' and then mapped them to my tablet buttons.

flop your work horizontally often! when you're working on something, you get used to the way it looks, so seeing it mirrored is a quick way to see it with fresh eyes! in my experience, it often feels like this:

(a common thing is to find that everything is sort of 'leaning' too much one way, which is where skew really comes in handy!) (seriously, I love skew, it is my savior)

if you're working with color, keep a hue/saturation adjustment layer (or a layer filled with black or white and set to Color) on top and toggle it on occasionally to check your values! a lot of people who know a lot more about color than me (and are better at putting it into words) have written about why values are so important, so all I'll say is that the rule of thumb is that your image should still be readable in greyscale:

there are some exceptions and grey areas (do ho ho), but it's a good general rule to keep in mind! (some programs also have a colorblind mode, so you can check to see how your work will look to someone with colorblindness!)

and finally, here's some digital art programs I recommend, if you're still looking for a good one!

free: krita, FireAlpaca

paid: ClipStudio, Procreate (iOS/iPad only)

[feyspeaker]

Hi! I made an account just so I could follow your work. Your art is brilliant and honestly and inspiration to where I want to be. I’m an older artist who has all the anxiety when it comes to improving my process. I’m trying to get into digital portraits and I have so many ideas in my head, but it’s frustrating because I’m not where I want to be to make this happen. What are some tricks that help you/software do you use? Of course, you don’t have to share anything that makes you uncomfortable. I currently have procreate and an iPad, but I feel a little lost. Wondering if I need a different writing tablet and photoshop. Not sure. I just eventually want to find that 3D, but also artistic look you are able to achieve.

hey there! thank you so much!!

ultimately, I will sound like a broken record but I always recommend you sign up for local figure drawing or painting classes. have people pose for you at home and sketch with charcoal and paper. go to the zoo and sit down in front on an exhibit for an hour and try to draw the animals in front of you as fast as you can and fill a couple of pages, move on to a new exhibit and do it again!

nothing is more powerful of a tool to learn than whatever writing utensil you have in your purse and the back of a napkin when you see something you'd like to capture. I've spent quite frankly my entire rememberable life doing this. I used to spend every single day in middle school/high school/my brief failed stint in community college with a pack of cheap sharpies and a beat up binder full of old worksheets and homework to draw on the backs of.

drawing/painting from life will teach you better than anything.

I use a very outdated version of Photoshop, and only got a "nice" tablet in the past 7 months.

Also, a huge tip to you and anyone else reading this: do NOT get too focused on a "style" that you want. Obsessing over that just ruined me for years and years. I wanted so, so, so badly to be the next Matsuri Hino when I was a kid. I copied her work religiously and it NEVER looked right. Frustrated me to no end. And you know why my stuff never looked like hers? Because I'm not her! You can't force your art to come out any way that isn't natural, and the sooner you can accept the art your hand wants to create, the happier you'll be and the easier art will get for you.

The past couple of years before I started diving into this more realism based work, I was just shoving myself through trying to make what art I envied of others. Very stylized/textured watercolor comic book style stuff. And I just was NOT getting any better at it. I have always been more inclined toward realism work, but I've hated it and yearned for stylized work. Yoshitaka Amano? God, I just drooled over that artstyle and beat myself up for never being able to capture it in studies or otherwise.

I finally essentially restructured my entire career around making the art that makes me happy instead of what I "wanted" it to look like. I was extremely depressed, my life was falling apart, and I still needed to make art to survive but I couldn't "art" if I was depressed and hated doing it, so I just had to step back and stop worrying so much about what I thought I wanted to make, and started making what felt most natural.

there's no easy way, and art can be a soul destroying path at times, truly. your software and hardware should come very last place compared to practicing from life (it doesn't matter if you want to paint cartoony stuff of realistic stuff, always start from life). naturally you will find what makes your heart sing the most.

I get a lot of messages from people telling me similar stuff "oh your art is EXACTLY what I want to do!" but I promise you that kind of thought process is chasing a dragon that is likely to harm or drag your creative process down. art style is such a deeply personal thing, so of COURSE it's important to find inspiration, but the second looking at someone else's artwork stops inspiring you and starts frustrating you, put it away.

There are some artists who I love, that I do not check up on often because their artwork ignites, like, serious bitter jealousy in me. It's the truth. I get so mad at myself for not being more like them, and it's such a poison. I think more artists should be transparent about this feeling because I KNOW the art community has a lot of jealousy and ugliness in it.

A fact of being an artist is that you will never be completely happy with a piece you make. You are always going to see the flaws, and that doesn't change whether you'd been drawing for 2 months or 20 years. Occasionally, you will get one piece that you are like "how did I make that???" and then get frustrated that you can't recreate it lol! It's a tough beast.

It's just really important to step back and work on yourself and where you are at, because at the end of the day, the way your soul wants to express artwork might be WILDLY different from what your brain wants, and it can be really detrimental to let those two go to war.

I hope this helps. I'm very passionate about this, and when I started out I ALWAYS ignored the artists who gave the same exact tips as above. I thought they were so annoying and unhelpful, but now I /get it/.

[julilovesyou444]

the only exception ~ tom kaulitz

background: you and Tom had been hooking up for a while now, probably close to around half a year. you had a big crush on him but were very aware that he didn’t do relationships, so even though you were ‘physically’ with him, you never let yourself get super emotionally attached. Tom couldn’t say the same for himself, though. He wanted you, and only you.

warnings: nothing much just kissing and swearing lol

a/n~ sorry for being m.I.a!! I had to visit my dad in serbia and it sucked because I hate my dad and he hates me lolllll speaking of I wrote a fic that was requested where like the ready has daddy issues and tom like helps her through it but I think I made it wayyyy to like serious I think the word is? and its very long so I’m considering scrapping it idk, also I’m getting to all ur requests that I wanna do dont worry !!

~

“hello?”, i said, picking up my phone. it was tom, my long-term fling. I can’t remember exactly how I met him, or exactly how we started hooking-up. I had heard about his band before we met, and I thought they were cool, but i didn’t quite understand just how popular they were. Until after meeting Tom, i didnt know about his ‘reputation’ either. I didn’t know until after the first time we hooked up. He had made us trade numbers, and i was expecting a call at least a day or two after we had seen each other, but nothing. I decided to do some research, just to find out that the boy i was crushing on was in fact a hardcore player. A womanizer, if you will. Part of me wanted to never go out with him again, the smart part of me. But another part of me wanted him so badly, so overwhelmingly bad that I went with my heart instead of my head. I liked Tom, I really did. I couldn’t help it. But I didn’t want myself to get hurt, so I expected just about nothing from him. We fuck and then it’s over. Whenever he would ask me to stay the night or do any of that stuff, I would politely decline and leave. Sometimes we would go out and do non-sexual things, but they always ended sexual. I learned to become okay with that, and I ultimately stopped expecting us to do anything that was hooking up.

“Hey, are you busy?”, he asked.

“Hmm, i dont know, maybe, depends on why you’re calling.”, I teased. he chuckled.

“Uh-huh… well I was thinking, that if you’re free, I could take you out somewhere.”

“take me out, huh? is that code for fucking?”, this earned me another laugh.

“no, no, it can be, but I want to actually take you out.”, he chuckled.

“are you asking me out on a date?”, i asked, a little confused.

“…yes?”

I was quiet for a second, apparently a second too long.

“look if you dont want to, we don’t have to, I just thought-“, he started.

“no, no! sorry! I was thinking but yes, I’m free and we should go out!”, I interrupted. I heard him release a breath he was holding, probably one he didn’t intend for me to hear.

“okay, yea, cool. when can I pick you up?”

“hmm let’s say in about 30 minutes? does that work?”

“perfect.”

“mhm, I’ll see you then.”

“bye.”, he said just before I hung up.

tom kaulitz. taking me out on a date?? what????

I got up almost immediately and started to get ready. I wanted to look as cute as possible. I ran over to my wardrobe and searched through it for a good five minutes. I found this super cute, also pretty tiny, pleated denim skirt and this purple and black top that had a lot of lace detailing and these little puffy princess sleeves. I put on some jewelry, makeup, and these black boots I had. I left my hair down, i noticed that when I did, Tom always complimented it. I grabbed my purse and threw some gum, lipgloss, my phone, and my little digital camera in there.

I glanced at the clock and saw that he should be here any minute. I stepped outside and waited for about 3 minutes, which would’ve been fine, if it wasn’t as cold as it was. I didn’t feel like going back in, just in case he showed up right as i did. I was shivering a tiny bit and got some goosebumps, but to my relief, and pulled in front of my house not too much later. I got in, the warm air of his car heaters hitting me.

“shit, you look freezing. how long were you out there for?”, Tom asked, looking genuinely concerned.

“I’m cold but I’m fine.”, I laughed it off.

“okay, do you need a jacket or-“

“No!! I’m serious! I’m okay.”, I laughed some more.

“okay, okay! just checking.”, he smiled. I watched as his eyes did a quick scan over me.

“you look pretty. your hair looks really nice too.”, he said, his eyes averting back forward as he began to drive away.

“thank you. you don’t look too bad yourself.”

he playfully rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help but smile as well.

“sooo… where are we going?”, I questioned.

“you’ll see.”

“Oh, c’mon. I hate surprises.”

“You’ll like this one, trust me.”

I sighed and faced myself back forward. Some radio station was playing softly in the background as we raced down the highway.

the drive to the mystery place wasn’t far, only a 20 minute drive, which I filled with a lot of talking. mainly about random stuff, Tom telling a few jokes which never failed to make me laugh. He pulled into a parking lot which only had a few other cars. I looked around, it looked like we were at some kind of fancy park. A garden maybe? He leaned over the center console and grabbed something from the backseat.

Tom dropped a large black zip up jacket in my lap.

“My jacket, so you aren’t freezing your ass off the entire time.”

“Oh, thank you.”, i said quietly. He got out of the car and made his way to the back. I followed his lead, getting out of the car, putting on the jacket but not zipping it. I walked around to the back of the car where the trunk was open. There were two big woven picnic baskets. Tom grabbed both and I shut the trunk door as he began to walk off. I caught up with him.

“Do you want me to carry one?”, i motioned to the baskets.

“It’s okay, just follow me.”, he said, continuing his venture into the park. I followed close behind.

We didn’t walk for long, it was a really beautiful park. There were lots of flowers and little benches everywhere. Lots of really big and beautiful trees too. We stopped in front of this big pond, the water was so clear you could see the miniature fish swimming. there was a swan that swam around too.

Tom opened one of the baskets, revealing a big blanket. Without a word, I helped him spread it out over the fluffy grass. He sat down on it and patted the little space next to him, indicating for me to sit down as well. I did. He grabbed the other basket next to him and moved it to be in front of us. Tom opened it and inside were a ton of snacks. All of my favorites. I was shocked to say the least.

“Oh my god, how did you know?”, i said, mouth slightly agaped. He looked proud of himself.

“You mentioned some of your favorite snacks once or twice.”, he nonchalantly shrugged.

“This is lovely, Tom.”, I replied, sounding as genuine as I ever had. His eyes met mine and I gave him a little smile which he returned.

“What is all of this for?”, i added.

“Just wanted to do something nice for you, I guess.”, he mumbled and looked away.

I gently placed my hand over his, his head turned to mine.

“I appreciate it, I really do.”, i smiled. my thumb caressed his hand for a second.

“I like spending time with you, y’know? even when we’re not…”, he trailed off. I laughed, taking my hand off his, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Tom.

I grabbed one of the many snacks he packed and started to eat. In between bites, I would ramble about different things. He always would just listen to me talk, admiring me as he did. This went on for a while. Tom started eating some. Somewhere in the midst of this, my position changed. I now had my head laid across his legs, my legs stretched out and my hair splayed all over his lap. i stopped eating and just started talking. Tom gazed down at me. Eventually he lit a cigarette and started smoking. He held the cigarettes between his pointer and middle finger, moving it down for me to take a puff. I did, peering into his eyes as I did so. They weren’t filled with their normal lust, but they looked like they had something else in them. I couldn’t figure it out.

Tom talked some too, mainly making crude jokes. I always laughed, no matter how stupid. I think he enjoyed that.

He took a hit and then leaned over, his mouth hovering over mine. I opened and allowed him to blow the smoke in my mouth. He sat back up and watched as slowly blew it out.

“I know this isn’t a normal thing to do when we ‘meet up’, but i really like it.”, Tom said, his fingers intertwined with the ends of my hair.

“Really?”, i asked. I knew for a fact he enjoyed my body, but I wasn’t aware he liked spending time with me when we weren’t doing one another.

“yea… why’s that so shocking?”

“Um, i dont know. I guess I thought you really only wanted sex from me.”

“Oh.”

“Yea..”

“Uh, I guess that’s just what I wanted at first. But the more I started seeing you, the more I wanted to see you again.”

“Oh?”

“Yea, and whenever I would invite you to stay over or do anything like that, you would always say no. Kind of assumed you were the one who only wanted me for sex.”

“I don’t, I just assumed you were trying to be polite or something. It’s stupid, I guess.”

“No, it’s not. At this point, you know me and you know the reputation I have, so i understood why you thought that.”

“Sorry…”, I muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, but it wasn’t awkward.

“I was thinking about maybe doing this kinda thing more often with you, I mean, we can still do our normal things we do, but maybe we can start doing more of this too.”

“What? Like go on dates?”, i furrowed my brows.

“Yea, something like that.”

“I feel like that’s something only couples do.”, i sorta laughed. He was quiet, which made me sit up, I looked over at him. He was staring at his lap in my absence.

“Is that… not a possibility?”, he murmured.

“But… I thought you dont do commitment? and relationships?”

“Yea, i dont usually.”

“I can’t go on dates with you and act all boyfriend-girlfriend unless you are actually going to commit. I’m not going to do that to myself, Tom. I can’t let myself get hurt like that.”, i said quietly but sternly. I had to be sensible, i didn’t want to be just another girl that got fooled by Tom Kaulitz.

“I know, but i want to try.”, he looked up at me with pleading eyes.

“What changed? What’s different now than from when I first met you?”, I asked, still unsure.

“I hate talking about my feelings.”, he huffed.

“I’m not gonna judge you or anything, I just need to know.”

“You changed me. You did. I didn’t want to date any of the girls I hooked up with for one night because they just weren’t worth it and they didn’t mean that much to me. You’re one of the only girls I’ve consistently seen for more than a month. I haven’t gotten with any other girl than you for like 4 months. I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t ignore it. And I want more of you. More than just the physical aspects. Dont get me wrong, I love those parts of you too, but i want you for more than just your body. Dude, I can’t stop saying stupid ass jokes to you just because I want to hear your laugh. So yeah, I haven’t ever really commited before because I didn’t really do relationship. But, for you, it’s different. You are the only exception.”

“What? Really? I had zero idea you felt that way at all…”, I replied, astounded.

“Well I do feel that way and have for a little while now.”

“You aren’t playing with me, right?”, i asked, still not believing it.

“Really?? I practically just confessed myself to you and you still don’t believe me?”

“Okay, I’m sorry! You’re right, this was just, unexpected from you.”

“So… what do you think?”

“I want you too, Tom.”, I managed to say. A smile grew on his once nervous face. He cupped my face in his hands and began to lean in.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Mhm.”, i responded. He kissed me so passionately, I felt like I was floating. My hand went to his jaw, my thumb subconsciously tracing little hearts on his lower cheek. I could feel him smile into the kiss. I pulled away, my forehead still connected with his. I started giggling a little, looking away and hiding my face.

“Oh, c’mon. Dont be shy, now.”, Tom pulled my back towards him so I was leaned against his frame, his arms wrapped around my torso. He left little kisses on the top of my head.

“Wow.”

“Hm?”, he hummed.

“Can’t believe I was your only exception.”, i said with a cocky smile in attempt to poke fun at him.

I could feel him roll his eyes.

“Uh-huh, whatever. Its true.”

“I kinda never thought this day would come.”, i said, my finger trailing up and down his, that rested on my stomach.

“Yea, me too, I guess. But I’m glad that it did.”

I smiled, turning my head around to kiss him again.

A new beginning.

His first real relationship.

It was me, I was his only exception.

Something about that phrase made me feel like the most special girl in the world.

~

[not-your-bro]

do you have any ud hcs? It could be anything idc

ooh, free rein! sure sure. josh + chris are def the characters i most frequently rotate in my mind, so some stuff about them off the top of my head...

josh

film studies major. i must admit i don't adhere to the psych major he's given in canon, though director/producer roles aren't my first choice for him either. he goes all-in on tangible stuff for his prank, so i put him in the practical effects arena.

artist in his spare time, but big surprise he's cagey about it. like, chris sees josh's sketchbook in josh's room all the time, but he's never actually looked inside.

with both movie sfx + art, josh is practical > digital, and he only dips into digital effects or art when he absolutely needs to. i just think he's a tactile sort of guy who prefers to make things with his hands, so creating on a screen alone doesn't give him the same satisfaction.

on social media in that he has accounts, but they're sporadically active at best. he can be slow to respond to texts/dms and his responses can be short, which gives off the impression that he's disengaged or bored. he isn't, he just doesn't want to be on his phone.

this is a longstanding hc of mine that i've absolutely mentioned before, but: designed hannah's butterfly tattoo! didn't really understand why, he was like you know your tattoo artist can do one for you, right. but she insisted, and he obliged.

gay as fuck. realized young, came out young, very comfortable. as demonstrated by the fact that, much to everyone's annoyance, he wears shirts that say shit like 'employee of the month at the dick sucking factory' in public.

chris

ok, so i've reached the point where the chris in my mind looks different enough that i get a little jumpscared when i see him in-game LMAO. i hc him both taller and heavier. he's gotta be at least 6 ft. and a chris hartley who's thin is no chris hartley at all. not to me.

does not come from money, like lower middle class. i have two totally different hcs about his family that both feel real to me: one is that he's an only child, his parents divorced when he was a kid (old enough to understand, but not quite a teenager), and he lives with his mom. the other is that his parents are not divorced, and he has a big family - lots of siblings. i've been going with the former in my fic lately, but both work for me. the constant is that his family's economic situation is more precarious than most people in the friend group, and family trips with (and funded by) the washingtons were his primary vacations.

has adhd. i find 'always on his phone bc he just loooves technology' less interesting than 'always on his phone bc he has existing attention problems.' this went undiagnosed for a while, and his performance in school suffered for it.

speaking of, he is not all-around school smart. like, emily may have strengths and weaknesses (even if she'd never admit them), but she can swing As across the board. chris cannot. he's getting good grades in classes that interest him or cater to his solution-oriented brain, but he's terrible in any class where there's no right answer. english, art - he does not get it. love him to death but his media literacy is Bad

bi as fuck, but it was a journey. thought he was straight for a long time, dismissing any attraction to men as a 'who hasn't had gay thoughts' kind of thing. i think it took him a while to come to terms with it bc he had a lot of internalized shit to work through. if a friend came out as bi, he'd have been like cool 👍 but him? surely not! he got there eventually though.

wowee this is long. as a lil bonus hc for another character, i'll add that i don't think jess went to college - i think she went to a hair/beauty school. she loves what a social job it is, getting to chit chat with clients all day, and like josh, she does best when she's working with her hands.

[aziraphales-library]

can u rec me any fics with aziraphale and/or crowley messing with humans? it could be pranks or stuff like that, but i like fics that write about when the people around them can feel there is something not quite human about them

You'll want to check out our #cryptid aziraphale, #cryptid crowley, and #outsider pov tags for loads more fics with this kind of theme. Here are some that may or may not have been recommended before...

The Resident Nudist of A.Z. Fell and Co. by WritesEveryBlueMoon (T)

PiperIsaNerd Ok I know we've all been distracted by Mr Fell's new nudist paramour but can we talk about the fact that Sunglasses literally got struck by lightning? brokenbibliophile I'm sorry, Mr Fell's what? - As the nude man who wandered through Soho becomes a viral sensation, rare book enthusiasts are fascinated by something far stranger: A.Z. Fell and Co.'s new assistant bookseller who is eager to actually sell books.

Big Spooky Fan by WorseOmens (NR)

A scout troop tells spooky stories around a campfire, and one ex-Londoner has an interesting tale to tell about Soho's most bizarre urban legend: AZ Fell and his antique bookshop. (Or: Aziraphale gets mistaken for a ghost)

Gift Horses by littlesystems (G)

"Mum?" "Yes dear?" "How long has Mr. Fell been coming to the bakery?"

The Sanctuary in Soho by herebewyverns (G)

Look, live in London for long enough, and nothing will faze you. It’s not that you don’t notice, of course you notice, if you went around blatantly ignoring things like this, you’d be dead and thus no longer living in London. You just… you just learn to absorb things like this and move on.

On That Note by theinkwell33 (G)

In which Basil, who has sold theater tickets in London for many years, notes with increasing distress that a certain Mr. Fell has never stayed to the end of a performance of The Sound of Music. And his friend (or perhaps enemy?) Mr. Crowley, seems to be of no help whatsoever in this matter. Or rather, Aziraphale has a long history with evading The Sound of Music, and someone decides it's about time he saw the whole thing.

Soho's Very Own Patron Saint *Cough* Cryptid *Cough* by Watermelonsmellinfellon (M)

Honey and her wife Lemon had become a part of the queer culture of Soho, and in doing so, had become part of the best - or worst, it really depends on who's asking - hidden secret ever. Soho had its very own queer cryptid! A Mr. Ezra Fell who had a spouse just as mysterious as he was, and who had been around for a very long time, inspiring the queer youth just by being himself. Honey has made the choice to digitally record this discovery for future queer people to find comfort in, because it is a story that should be shared, but only with those who will respect it.

- Mod D