#analog switches depending

[wonder-worker]

how do you think the Lancasters stood the best chance at winning the war?

Imo, if they'd won at Mortimer's Cross or Towton, the Yorkists would be finished.

A lot of the WotR depended on military victories, tbh. We tend to get distracted by fancy discussions like "Who had the best claim?"* or Propaganda Roulette 101, but the fact remains that it was ultimately military victories that sealed the deal and got rid of opposition**. Everything else was pretty wrapping on top of the already-won or to-be-won prize.

*The most useless debate of all **The exception was Richard III's usurpation but that was a fairly unconventional and entirely unexpected usurpation, and in any case it was a military defeat that ended his reign.

#ask #wars of the roses #Remember that the Yorkists were on the brink of total defeat by the end of 1460 #The Duke of York and his second son were killed; and his heir was only 18; the King would soon be reclaimed from their grasp #If they'd lost in 1461 their cause would most likely be over #A fairly analogous example would be the Battle of Bosworth - if Richard III had won Henry Tudor's cause would be finished #(and he'd probably be dead) #If the Lancastrians had seized London they'd have a huge advantage but might also encounter some difficulties #including a potential siege and hostility from the aldermen and public. But a military victory would seal the deal #Also I think I've mentioned in some tags before but imo it's clear that the Lancastrians stood a monumentally better chance at #consolidating their power/support/reputation if they won in 1461 rather than 1471 #A 1471 military victory would result in victory but would also bring with it a whole host of other problems in terms of consolidation #(Among others: the inevitable head-on national clash between Yorkist and Lancastrian lords in terms of forfeited and restored estates #which had been postponed by Warwick but would undoubtedly take center stage once the royal family was properly established #and would almost definitely result in the eruption of widespread rivalries and resentment from the affected parties; #foreign and domestic policy with regards to the promised war with Burgundy which was very unpopular with the English patriciate; etc) #(That's not even getting into whether Warwick would survive or not and the equally complicated possibilities in either scenario #or George of Clarence: whether their victory would be before or after he switched sides and what that would mean for him) #There's also the obvious fact that Henry VI would still ultimately be King - and that can take VERY different routes depending #on the wider situation #In a completely alternate scenario if they had established themselves when Edward IV was still in exile he would be out of reach #which would over-complicate matters even further #(I'd be personally curious to know if they took any action against royal claims through the female line considering this was a HUGE #aspect of their gendered propaganda in the 1460s to try and delegitimize the Yorkist claim...Henry IV gave them an obvious precedent) #a 1471 victor would also be devastating on a personal level for everyone involved considering Henry's imprisonment and #Margaret and Edward's almost decade-long exile before it #It would be significantly more devastating for Edward IV's widow and four frighteningly young children - especially considering #that unlike Margaret or Anne Neville they lacked the active/direct connection of powerful foreign or national relatives #All in all - It's difficult to say but it's clear that a path forward in 1471 would be tremendously hard #A victory in 1461 would not only forever end the Yorkist challenge but would also ensure a far smoother aftermath for the Lancasters

[shiftinglea]

Explanation behind “You already have your desire”

Since I started my LOA journey, I've had a healthy amount of skepticism towards the idea of already having our desires. Some part of me agreed with that and said, "Yes, I indeed have my desires" (it was my soul saying that to me). But my logical mind would be like, "No, you don’t. Look at your physical life. Do you see your desire?"

And while I knew that all LOA bloggers would tell me to believe in my imagination/4d and not my 3d, I still struggled.

Until I finally found the perfect explanation of why I should trust my 4d more than my 3d.

And I’m here to share these insights with you.

It all comes down to realizing that all outcomes, all desires you have, every single potentiality exists here in the Now. They are happening all at once. But we are not perceiving them all at once. We are experiencing a certain reality at a time depending on our actions, assumptions, thoughts, and beliefs.

I will give a good analogy that I already used in one of the asks. Imagine you are in a huge room with different objects inside. A huge skeleton of an elephant is grabbing your attention first. This is what you are perceiving. But you want to find a certain book and after some searching, you find it. The thing is, the book was always in that room, you just didn’t notice it.

The same with your desires. They are always here but you are not observing them.

At every single moment you are always choosing what reality you are perceiving depending on your thoughts and assumptions.

And when you perceive a certain outcome, you know that other possibilities are still there and are available to you. You just aren’t aware of it with your senses.

Knowing that everything you can imagine exists here in the now allows you to relax and not worry about how to get it. Because you know that it’s already here even though your physical senses don’t perceive it yet.

What you need to do is to persist in this knowing that your desire is yours even though your senses don’t show it yet. This persistence will allow your desires to “physicalise” (but not really since they have always been there you just changed your perception).

Another good analogy that can help with grasping this concept is DVD. Imagine a disk with your favorite movie on it. You have watched this movie so many times and you know the ending.

So you are not stressing when characters are going through some tough times because you know that this movie has a good ending for them.

Think of your life as an infinite library with DVDs. Each DVD has a different reality that you can perceive and be a part of. When you imagine your desire/fulfill your inner man/know that your desire is yours/affirm, etc., you are literally choosing which DVD/reality you will perceive.

So when something “bad” happens, you don’t need to stress because you know how this “movie” will end. You have already seen the outcome (imagined it and accepted that it’s yours).

Your state, thoughts, and beliefs align you with a particular ending of each movie/outcome of reality. That’s why it’s recommended to think as if and to embody the state of having your desire because it aligns you with a reality where you are a person with your desires.

So disregard your senses and don’t allow them to tell you whether you have your desires or not. You always do. You just need to switch your perspective and see that it has always been there 🙏❤️

#loa tumblr #loassumption #void state #loa blog #neville goddard

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

I like that your art looks like a reheated pizza that was put in the microwave for too long so its all bubbly and melty and such

The analogy makes sense and that's an observation I can really appreciate. As a pizza fanatic however please use a toaster oven if you have one. I only reheat my pizza in a toaster oven, using specific settings that ensure bread is made crispy and the cheese melts again, but without much bubbling or the bread charring (There are settings on mine that switch between "Warm" to "Bake" to "Toast" to "Broil", etc, and what I do is set it to Warm, then the temperature knob to 400+, and then the timer to 8 minutes for one slice, 10 for two, and 11 at most three. Depending on your tastes, the type and quality of the pizza's dough you're working with, along with the type of toaster you yourself use of course, you're likely going to have to experiment to achieve optimal results.). But seriously like I need you to understand you're speaking to someone with "eccentric Jojo side-character" levels of specificity when it comes to reheating pizza and I needed to physically withhold myself from responding with "IN THE MICROWAVE?? FOR TOO LONG?? WHO" which is somewhat hypocritical since I also used to use the microwave before I figured out toaster ovens, and reheating food with the microwave can be very difficult to get right, if possible at all. And it's also presumptuous of me to even assume your own practices since you're just giving an example, and not stating specifically how you individually reheat pizza. A weaker Hydro would take this as an insult but I want to stress that I do know what you mean. I know i also sound insane but there's so much context behind my response and I feel a compulsion to write out this response to its fullest for you to understand the weird places and leaps in logic my brain just went through My brushes definitely have a blobby look to them, especially when viewed close up, so I totally see what you mean. I also think people should reheat food however way they want and there's definitely no wrong way to do it

#bouncebloom #Normal Hydro Response

[yandereshingeki]

Milk, Honey, and Sugar

Yandere Eren x Reader

Milk Honey and Sugar Masterlist

previous • next

Word Count: 12.7k

Content: College AU, Yandere content, Obsessive and Possessive behavior, Fluff, Smut, Dark content, Jiyuu beloved

Content Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Obsessive Behavior, Eren is a bit of a pervert, but somehow also shy about it, reader going thru it, Eren is described at taller than reader, Pet names (Angel, Baby), Dubcon (from stockholm syndrome), Eren is SO WEAK TO YOU, you’re both a bit shy, Reader is implied to be a tiny bit insecure, Tiddy sucking, Falacio, hand job, Little bit of subby! Eren but only a little, description of Eren’s dick lol, reader makes him CRY, mention of him pulling their hair a little, a smidge of edging, aftercare

Summary: After the realization hits that you aren't ever going to see your friends again, Eren is the one to comfort you—slowly turning you more and more dependent on him.

Oh my goddd It's been so long and I'm so sorry!!! A bunch of things got in the way of me writing for a while, but It's finally back! I'm going to try to focus on this series more so hopefully, there won't be such a big gap in posting again! I already have the next part nearly finished so it shouldn't be long before the next chapter! Also, I'd like to say thank you to anyone that's still here after my absence and anyone that's been here from before :,,) I'm so grateful. I hope this is enough to satisfy until the next chapter! There's a little doodle at the end for you all <33 Can't wait to write the most exciting parts of the story!! (In my opinion at least, lol) Please enjoyy

Chapter 7: Warmth (part 1)

The hours grew longer the more days you spent alone.

Your world was quiet, apart from the tick of the plastic analog clock or the occasional sound of water going through pipes and creaking footsteps from above. Being stuck on your own was such a lonely, stir-crazy existence. The only time you found solace from it was when Eren would make his way down the stairs, greeting you with his abnormally gentle smile and a soft kiss, giving you the company you constantly longed for and sometimes a consoling meal.

He had you wrapped around his finger by now, so tired of the isolation and quiet that you’d do almost anything if it meant he’d stay, just to ease your loneliness for a while. He was a distraction you took with little resistance because you didn’t want to think about the pain of being trapped for even a second.

He seemed to be the only thing that helped your ever-fragile mood, the one thing keeping you grounded as your mental stability frayed. It was hell when he would leave you, forcing you to face the cold basement alone again. You’d try to sleep through it, but sometimes your brain wouldn’t quiet and your emotions would explode to the point that you’d bawl your eyes out and sob until your nose was clogged and your head ached, your mind plagued with the overbearing thoughts of your long-gone friends and freedom. If they’d been looking, you were sure they would have found you by now. It should’ve been so obvious who’d taken you. Or maybe, everyone was too trusting of Eren to realize that deep down, he was an obsessive stalker, someone who kidnapped his best friend. 

Either way, your hope of being found had almost completely diminished. With no access to the outside world, you didn’t even know if a search was ongoing. You had no motivation anymore, even for escape—although it’s not like you could because Eren hadn’t let you go upstairs since your last attempt. He hadn’t touched you the same way he did that night either, occasionally letting his soft kisses grow more heated but never going as far as he did then. You almost missed it. The intimacy, that is. He’d been nothing but sweet to you most of the time, even when all you could do was cry into him.

You felt pathetic being in such a state, constantly switching between craving his presence and despising him for taking you away. You barely felt deserving of being rescued since you gave in to your captor so quickly. Would anyone even want to help you if they knew what you’d done with him? How close you’d remained even after his betrayal? It brought a sick feeling to your stomach whenever you thought about it. All of the lame excuses and blaming your actions on your once adolescent crush or your dwindling will to escape. You knew the truth, yet you still didn’t want to admit it.

It’d been four weeks since your failed escape, and just a little over a month of being stuck in the basement—not that you even knew the specifics of how long it’d been because of how your days began to blend. Since your attempt, Eren spent more time downstairs, sometimes taking his entire day off to stay with you, slowly making you more dependent on his presence because it was all you had. 

Akin to every other day, it started with his journey down, breakfast in hand and laptop under his arm, the device fully charged and ready for another day of playing offline games and watching videos or movies. But, also like every other day, his plans, per usual, were halted when he reached the bottom of the steps and saw you curled up on the bed, crying into your palms. 

His guilt overflowed whenever he saw you like that, but he pushed it away when he remembered all the things that could’ve happened if he hadn’t brought you here. All of the people that could have gotten to you, the things they could have done to you. It made him irrationally angry just thinking about it. In his house, you were safe, and he always knew where you were. To him, that was worth the pain it brought you.

Laying everything on the desk, he rushed to sit next to you, trapping you in his comforting arms and pulling you into his lap, “What’s wrong, baby?” 

He always asked that when you cried, always with the same pet names he’d use to try and ease your tears. You always replied that you didn’t want to discuss it, but he knew what the truth behind your sadness was. He knew it was because you missed everyone and you were terrified of telling him. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” You said, as usual, voice hoarse from tears that’d been pouring since you woke up. You put your head against him, soaking the white pajama t-shirt while he rubbed your back and cradled you like a child. His warmth and his pleasant autumn-like scent made it harder to focus on your problems, the comfort pulling you back to him in an instant. Sometimes it was like you were addicted, craving the constant reassurance of his presence and the distraction from your situation. 

This had become almost routine—he would come downstairs or wake up with you, find you crying, and drop everything to comfort you, just to continue whatever he had planned for the day after as if nothing happened. It was such an exhausting pattern for you, but he couldn't care less. All he cared for was being able to have you with him where you were safe. Being able to hold and touch you was just a bonus.

He held you as tight as he could, trying to make you feel secure while compressed in his arms. You could only snuggle into him, pushing your ear against his chest to listen to his racing heart. It was a calming and familiar white noise that helped distract you from the fact that you were probably never going to get out. It helped you feel sane and reminded you that Eren was another human too.

He sighed feeling you ease into him, finally safe enough to relax too. The room was quiet other than the gentle sounds of breathing and the mechanical ticking of the clock. It was almost peaceful like this, just the two of you cuddled up together. Listening to each other’s soft sounds and finding comfort in them.

“Can I have breakfast now?” You asked, your voice still crackling from your dry throat. You were sniffling and your face was still wet from past tears, but you were more hungry than upset now and didn’t want to wait for food anymore.

Eren smiled and slid you off his lap, making sure to plant a loving kiss on your forehead before he got up to grab the wooden breakfast tray from the desk. He walked back, setting it on your lap and revealing the stack of 4 heart-shaped pancakes to you that still radiated the warmth from being cooked. There was a tiny plate of butter and a cup of syrup sitting next to it, along with a ceramic mug of Eren’s favorite drink, his warm milk with honey and sugar mixed in. He always used to give it to you every time you came over, trying desperately to get you to favor it, and every time it always tasted bland. Not bad, but it didn’t fit your normal preference for drinks.

Recently though, whenever he’d give it to you with your breakfast, it was much sweeter than before. The milk and honey blended together with a pinch of dissolved sugar just tasted saccharine all of a sudden.

At first, you questioned if he spiked it, but when nothing happened after you drank it, you abandoned the idea. It felt so strange to suddenly enjoy something you’d been so indifferent about, but you didn’t want to overthink it. After all, you just wanted to enjoy the warmth from whatever he made you—to enjoy his warmth because it was all you had. 

“Well, are you going to eat?” Eren asked, questioning why you were staring at your food for so long.

Realizing that you’d spaced out while deep in thought, you muttered a quick “sorry” before grabbing the dull plastic knife on the tray to spread the butter over your pancakes.

While you were preparing your breakfast to your liking, Eren sat on the bed again, placing his arm behind you and sliding as close as he could without getting in your way, your thighs pressing together and his cheek almost touching your head.

He watched intensely as you cut into the syrup-soaked cake and stabbed into the small piece you separated, chomping down on it. As you chewed and swallowed it, he leaned his head on yours to get your attention, “Is it good? Did you like it?”

Nodding your head, you cut out another piece to shove into your mouth, “They’re really good! Did you make them from scratch?”

Eren smiled, feeling his heart melt when you gave him praise. He always ate up every little compliment you gave him, no matter how small it was. It was like a hit of dopamine every time you were even the tiniest bit nice—and he was addicted to it. Once he’d even kicked his legs and squealed into his pillow after you commented that he looked hot in a picture he posted, but that was a secret he would be taking to his grave.

“It’s my mom’s recipe… I just made them with a heart-shaped pan for the shape.” He replied, leaning into you and burying his face into the side of your neck while you continued to eat.

“I didn’t know you owned a heart-shaped pan,” You paused mid-bite, “When did that happen?”

“I got it when all of the Valentine's Day stuff was on clearance in stores… I just hid it in my room because I didn’t want anyone to see it while they were here.” He explained, his cheeks warming up at the thought of someone other than you seeing he owned such a bright pink and heart-shaped pan.

You giggled at his embarrassment and kept eating, enjoying the sweet syrup-soaked pancakes while you could. They were delicious, but especially warm compared to everything else, and you were so desperate to have that warmth that you were scarfing them down and barely savoring the taste. The sweet milk with honey came next, the most familiar part of the meal. You chugged it down so fast that you could feel its heat travel down to your stomach, officially ending your breakfast that morning.

It almost made you sad whenever you finished your food. You always felt extra cold after, especially without Eren there. It was never fun to experience.

“All done?” Eren asked, not allowing you a response before taking the tray from you. He placed it on the nightstand at the foot of the bed and went back to you, pushing you onto your back and crawling on top of you without warning. 

After taking a moment to maneuver himself around and get more comfortable, he placed his head on your shoulder and embraced you, the weight of his body crushing you into the mattress. It hurt a little and almost restricted your breathing, but having what was similar to a heated and weighted blanket on top of you was nice. 

He always did this when you finished your breakfast. It was one of his favorite things to do too. He loved being close to you, breathing in your scent and littering tiny kisses all over your neck and collarbone. It felt wonderful to claim you like that.

As you cocooned him with your limbs, he wriggled his way down until his head met your chest, putting his face between your breasts and squeezing you so they squished against his face. You let a gasp slip, face growing hot as a large smile formed on his lips. 

You tried to push against him to get him off, but you struggled immensely from his weight compared to your strength. It took almost all your energy to get him to budge, but he finally got the hint and sat up after minutes of your whining and squirming—only to grab your chest and squeeze as soon as his hands were free. 

You flinched and simultaneously gasped at the sudden grope, yelling at him with fake anger while batting his arms, “You’re such a fucking perv!” 

He chuckled and put his hand on the bed to lean down, his reddened cheeks so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your face, “Yeah, sure. But you love me, don’t you?”

You were silent while you considered what to say, afraid to lie to him but knowing that if you gave him any answer other than yes, he’d probably lose it on you. You did love him. You really did, but not in the way he wanted you to. You didn’t think you did, at least. He was just a safe space for you. A source of comfort while you were trapped. That didn’t mean you loved him, did it?

Growing insecure at your lack of response, Eren squeezed your arm just tight enough to regain your attention and asked you again, this time with more desperation lingering,  “Don’t you, angel?”

Without thinking it over more, you gave him an unconvincing answer, “Yes. I do.”

Satisfied with your response, he gave you a quick peck on the lips and got up to grab his laptop from the desk. You watched him carefully the whole time, sitting up and eyeing him as he picked up the small computer and carried it back to you. 

He placed carefully it in your lap, plopping down and leaning into you like he did during breakfast, his arm slung around your waist. You stared at the sticker-covered computer in your lap, your hands trembling while you considered asking him about going back upstairs again instead of spending another day in bed binging a random show you chose. 

You’d asked previously, even begged him to give you another chance, but his answer was always the same. He’d tell you that he isn’t ready for that, or that he doesn’t trust you yet. If you tried to ask repeatedly or beg for it, he would get angry with you and even lash out, leaving you alone for the entire day as a punishment, no matter how loud your cries got or how much it stung him to hear them. 

“Can I ask something before we start, Eren?” You managed to get out, your words shaking as you spoke.

You could feel him tense up next to you as you asked, his gaze now fixated on the laptop instead of you.

“What is it?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

You opened your mouth to talk but stuttered so much trying to get the first word out that you had to pause again before talking.

“Can I go upstairs for the day?” You pleaded, quickly adding onto it so he couldn’t instantly deny you, “I’ll do anything you want! Please! I just… want to leave the basement for a while.”

Silence followed.

You were shaking, terrified of what he was thinking. He was staring at the floor, his brows furrowed as he ran through all of his options. He wasn’t angry, not yet at least. He only would be if you pushed for it too much, but he still hated having to answer that question. Why couldn’t you just be happy with what he gave you? He understood that you were bored and lonely, but it was still frustrating. It was so, so frustrating.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” was all he could manage in response, because If he said any more or got too aggressive there would be tears. And he was so weak to your tears. It was the sole reason he always had to leave you when you cried to be let out. If he stayed, his already weak spirit might break, and then you could weave your way into having your way and escaping. He didn’t want to risk anything close to that.

Despite his effort to avoid it, tears began to prickle in the corner of your eyes, almost as if on command. You wanted to leave so badly that you were partially willing to give up your hope of escape if it meant you could at least have that. You would give all of it, just to have that ounce of freedom and self-autonomy back. 

“I don’t want to leave anymore, Eren! I promise! Chain my ankles or handcuff me to you, whatever!  Please, just let me go upstairs with you!” You begged. It was evident you were pushing his limit with the look that took over his face, but you didn’t know what else you could do to convince him.

Eren shut his eyes, the frown on his face deepening, “Baby, please. Don’t do this today.”

“Please, Eren. Please.” You begged again, the first fearful tear spilling over your cheek. The look you gave him was painful, his chest tightening the longer he stared at you. You’d done this almost every day for the last week and it was so aggravating. He hated being separated from you but you forced it on him by pleading so often.

He looked away from you and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as he snapped at you, “Why? Why do you want to so badly?! Can’t you just be happy with what I give you?” 

He finished with a sigh and waited quietly for your response, but nothing came. You were silent. 

It took Eren several moments to realize that you weren’t going to talk back, so when he finally lifted his head and looked at you, the sight ripped his heart in two.

You had your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth covered as you sobbed into it, trying to hide the sounds so you wouldn’t irritate him more, but seeing you cry like that with such obvious fear diminished any anger he had. He hated being the cause of your tears. He hated it.

Pulling you into his arms again and pushing the laptop aside, he apologized profusely and held you tighter. You whimpered into him, gripping his shirt while he pushed your face against his chest. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m sorry for snapping, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He had his hand on your head, digging his fingers into your hair while he repeated his apology, “Please stop crying. Please, you know I hate hearing you cry.”

You hiccuped, holding your breath to choke down your tears. You held it in for a few more moments until you couldn’t anymore, taking an involuntary breath and sobbing into his shirt. In a poor attempt to silence it, you covered your mouth while you cried, quietly begging him not to leave you between sobs. It broke his heart. 

He tried to reassure you, hugging you tightly and petting your head while he cooed, “I won’t leave. I won’t leave this time.”

It took a while, but following a few violent hiccups, silenced sobs, and deep, difficult inhales, your tears were dissipating and you were calming down, clinging to Eren as if your life depended on it. 

He held you close, basking in your touch. He knew why you wanted to leave the basement. He was stupid to think that being trapped there would be enough for you, but after the last time he let you up, he was terrified that you’d try to leave again. If you ever did manage to get away from him, it would mean he’d lose everything, and he didn’t even want to think about that happening. 

You needed to stay with him, where you were safe. Where he could watch over you. But, it was clear you also needed at least a little freedom, otherwise, your mental state could deteriorate even more than it already had, and that would be just as bad as losing you through escape. He didn’t want to reduce you to a shell of your former self. He didn’t want to break you. He just wanted to keep you to himself.

Thinking it over some more while you were wiping your face on his shirt, Eren decided to go against his better judgment and give in to what you wanted, which was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. It was easier that way, considering you were both feeling awful about your situation.

“I’ll—I’ll take you upstairs. I’ll take you upstairs today.” He blurted out, sounding reluctant to say it out loud.

Your entire mood had changed from just that sentence, perking your head up so you could meet his eyes from where you sat on his lap. Eyes wide with excitement, they were lighting up more than they had in the month you’d been stuck there. It was nice for him to see. He’d missed that sparkle so much. 

“I’ll only let you come up if you follow my rules though, okay? If you break them I’m sending you back down and I won’t even think about letting you up for at least a year.” He aggressively added to his previous statement, wanting to be clear with what he expected of you so there wouldn’t be any complaints later.

You rapidly nodded your head, getting ready to agree to whatever he asked if it meant getting that slight sliver of freedom in the end. Lucky for you, he didn’t want to take advantage of your eagerness—not too much at least. He loved you too much to hurt you like that.

With a small sigh, Eren slid you off of his lap and took his laptop, holding out his hand for you after he got up. You took it with a large smile plastered on your face, pulling yourself onto your feet and practically skipping to the stairs because of how happy you were. He was slow to follow after you, not particularly joyful about letting you out of the safe haven he’d created for you, but still willing to if it meant he got to see your bright smile again.

Once he made it to the top, he was hesitant to unlock the door. He really didn’t want to let you out, but when he looked over and saw how excited you looked standing next to him, he couldn’t help but picture how upset you were just prior, and how quickly that changed when he said you could go upstairs. Keeping you locked up and to himself was already selfish enough, he didn’t want to keep suffering even more in a cold basement for his own benefit.

Before he went through the final step of opening the door, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it tight. He was trying to make sure you couldn’t just run off, but also trying to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing. With a final heavy sigh, he unlocked the door and turned the knob with his laptop under his arm, pushing it open and revealing the dim light of morning to you.

You tried to run, not with a hope to escape but more so out of excitement—but Eren was quick to pull you back to him and remind you of your place.

“Don’t forget what I told you.” He spoke sternly, the grip on your hand growing tighter to the point that it hurt. 

His rules—to behave. To do what he asked. From the first time he let you upstairs. The same rules that you broke the last time you were here, and not just because he was vague about what “behaving” meant. Of course, you couldn’t forget.

You sounded dejected as you looked at the creaky wooden floor, “I’m just… excited. Sorry.” 

Sighing, he sauntered forward while pushing you with him, taking the lead but ultimately doing what you wanted by going to the living room. 

Jiyuu got visibly excited when you walked into his view, his fluffy wings opening up slightly while he paced back and forth on the giant bird tree across the room, considering if it was worth it to fly over. 

Eren stopped in his tracks, a small smile brightening his face when he realized what the bird wanted. He always thought it was sweet that he liked you, despite parrots' common behavior of being possessive over their owner. It also made your integration into his home a lot easier, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the bird going after you whenever he was affectionate with you.

“Why don’t you go pick him up?” He asked, trying to push you forward, closer to Jiyuu. 

Excited to see the bird—a living creature other than Eren—but terrified of doing something wrong and being punished for it, you turned to look at him, asking for reassurance that this wasn’t a trap, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I won’t be mad at you for walking away from me this time.” He assured you, the hand on your back pushing you even further, harsher this time to the point you almost stumbled.

You stepped forward with hesitance, slowly gaining confidence the closer you got to Jiyuu, your saving grace from complete isolation with Eren. Watching carefully, Eren stayed behind, his gaze burning holes into the back of your head. It made you so nervous, his eyes fixated on your every move. Being watched so closely was highly unpleasant and anxiety-inducing, and you could tell that Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

Climbing onto you when you held your arm out, Jiyuu was quick to run to your shoulder and puff his feathers up, squawking loudly at Eren. He’d never been especially protective of you, nor aggressive towards Eren, so this behavior was completely new—at least to you. It was especially shocking because of how loud he was able to scream, the sound triggering a constant ringing in your ears. 

“Eren? What’s wrong with him?” You panicked, turning to see what the bird was so upset about that he had to shriek, only to be face-to-face with Eren. His knees bent slightly so he met your height, startling you even more when you unexpectedly met his piercing green pupils.

His eyes were glued to the bird, his hand lifted in front of him so he would step up from your shoulder. To your surprise, the bird nipped at his hand and chewed on it, stepping on it when he was finished and acting like he hadn’t just screamed at him. “He’s just being moody. Don’t mind it too much, he just gets like this sometimes, ‘specially when I’m not in the best mood. He can tell.”

As he put Jiyuu back on the tree stand to chew on more of his toys, he walked closer and wrapped his arm around you, practically forcing you into his chest with his laptop pressed against your back. When his other hand was free from the bird’s talons, it joined his other to squeeze you tightly, keeping you close as he leaned over you, inhaling the comforting scent from your skin and hair.

You returned the hug, trying to distract yourself from the sinking feeling you had in your chest when he implied that he wasn’t in a good mood. It was obvious it was because of you—because you wanted to go upstairs. It made you feel so guilty, but also so afraid. He could be unpredictable when he was upset, which is probably why Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

“Why don’t we just watch some TV for now? Since he’s in such a bad mood and I still want to laze around…” He spoke up, backing away but leaving little space between you and him.

Without a thought, you nodded, ready to agree to almost anything as long as it would improve his mood and keep you out of your personal hell known as the basement. With your compliance, he was quick to drag you back onto the couch, setting the laptop down on the coffee table and pouncing, crushing you under his weight. Your whines went ignored by him in favor of grabbing the remote to activate the TV, bringing up the news before he swiftly changed it to an on-demand streaming service. He put on one of your favorite shows—one you’d already watched, probably dozens of times since you’d come here—and threw the controller

down, burying his face into your chest and engulfing you in his arms.

Resting your hands on his back when you finally processed everything he’d sped through in seconds, you focused more on him than the TV, although only able to see the top of his head and his messy bun. His face was buried between your boobs again, except this time, instead of smiling and teasing you about it, he shut his eyes and eased into you, feeling secure enough to relax with you trapped underneath him. The shift in mood was apparent, but all you could think to do was run your hands through his hair, hoping that would soothe him enough to think about letting you stay upstairs more often. 

It was silent after that, besides the background noise of the TV playing and Jiyuu preening his feathers and chewing wood. You were both clinging to each other, unmoving and resting. Eren was so warm, it almost made you tired—but you didn’t want to sleep. Not when you were finally experiencing what you’d wanted so badly for weeks. You longed to walk around and explore the house more, but he probably wouldn’t let you. It was frustrating.

“Eren?” You said, trying to get his attention on you instead of whatever he was thinking about in the silence.

He hummed in reply, not bothering to lift his head because he was too comfortable with his face against your chest. 

You twirled some of his loose hair between your fingers, silently trying to persuade him as you asked, “Can we go to your room? I want to see more than just your living room and kitchen.” 

Before you could continue with your long-winded speech trying to convince him to let you go to a different part of the house, he interrupted you with a finger over your lips, letting out a muffled “mm-mm” while he shook his head that was still against your chest. You frowned, moving his finger away from your mouth and continuing to push, “Why not?”

A scowl took over his face as he peered up at you, his chin stabbing into your sternum when he replied with aggressive venom in his tone, “Because I said no. Drop it.”

Once you nodded, a look of stinging fear glazing your eyes, his expression relaxed and he put his face back into your chest. Although your response calmed him, his answer did nothing to satiate your curiosity. You’d been in his room a few times prior to the kidnapping, so what was so different about now?

You let out a small sigh, continuing to run your hands through his hair but turning your attention towards the TV that still played your favorite show, although you’d begun to get rather tired of it after watching it over and over so much. Especially now, when watching different shows and dramas was all Eren had let you do aside from occasionally letting you play games on his laptop. As relaxing as the routine used to be, it was starting to grow excruciatingly dull. There were only so many days you could do nothing but laze around before you grew tired of it.

“Eren.” You began again, desperate for something to entertain you. You didn’t want to spend all your time out of the basement doing the same thing you did in it.

With a quiet groan, he lifted his head again and frowned, “What now?”

“I’m bored… I want to do something other than watch TV.”

Realizing that you weren’t trying to annoy him about getting into his room again, his eyes softened and he replied with a sweeter tone, “Like what?”

“I don’t know. You have games, don’t you?”

“In my room, yeah. But I don’t want you going in there right now and I’m not leaving you alone to grab anything.”

“Then what else can we do?”

When you asked, his brows scrunched together and he averted your gaze, deep in thought. You watched carefully, worried that he would become irate if you were too talkative while he was trying to relax. 

Slowly, his cheeks darkened as an idea popped into his head—one he’d usually tried to push away so that he wouldn’t risk making you feel uncomfortable with your already fragile emotional state, but right now? You seemed to be in a better mood, and much more content with doing just about anything to ease your boredom. There was nothing to stand in the way of his selfish desires.

Noticing the way his former annoyance bloomed into a red-faced fluster, you grew worried and tried to turn his head so he’d look at you, only for him to avoid meeting your eyes. His cheeks were burning hot to the touch and you could tell he had something on his mind.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to ask calmly despite the tremble in your voice, mentally preparing yourself for whatever emotion he might reply with.

A silent pause followed, and he barely managed to stutter it out, his hesitancy to explain his thoughts holding the words back, “I thought of something we could do if you are really that against just watching TV, but—but it’s kind of lewd. It’s—It’s really lewd actually.”

You could feel your cheeks grow warm at all the things that could mean, quietly urging him to continue out of curiosity about his desire, “Yes…? What is it?”

He was quiet again before he met your eyes, replying with a faltering voice full of anxiety, “I was thinking that maybe… we could take turns touching each other, and we could—I could learn more about your body… and we could make it into a game, I guess? If you really want to, the person who finds the most sensitive spots on the other person could win. That would make it more fun, right? Would something like that interest you more than TV?”

He stared at you with pleading puppy eyes while awaiting your response, his pupils swallowing his irises that practically glowed as they peered into your soul. 

Your entire face burned hot, now matching his. You were like shy kids confessing to each other, so tense and unnerved. 

Speaking with an unfamiliar kind of softness in his voice, he sounded like he would explode with embarrassment if you didn’t respond well, “We don’t have to, but I just—I just really want to touch you again. Even without the ‘game’ part. I’ve missed it. A lot.” 

He felt so perverted just saying it out loud.

His offer was tempting, but you didn’t know if you could trust it. Your judgment had felt so clouded recently and you’d been giving into him more under the guise of gaining enough freedom to escape, but how much would you need before you tried to leave again? The thought of escaping was crossing your mind less and less, and you were growing used to being with only Eren all the time, getting dangerously close to enjoying it. 

Part of you was terrified of ever leaving, terrified of how your friends would react when they found out what you’d already let him do to you, and terrified of leaving what you’d just started becoming accustomed to—but another part of you was terrified to stay. If you did, how far would things go? How deep of a hole would you dig for yourself before it was too late to get out?

“We don’t have to!” He repeated, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I could just find something else for us to do if you don’t want to,”

“It’s okay! It’s fine, it’s fine. We can do that.” You blurted out without processing what you were saying. The last thing you wanted was to upset him, so satisfying him was the only option even if it went against your better judgment. You could deal with the guilt later, but right now you had to focus on keeping his trust. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to give in and have a little fun with someone you’d trusted while you could, take advantage and get the experience you missed out on years before. You’d rather it be him than a stranger. That’s what you told yourself, at least.

“Really? Are you sure?” He asked again to reassure your consent while his lips shifted into a sly smile.

No. You weren’t. But you’d already made your bed, and you’d rather lie in it than rip off the sheets and start from the beginning, “Yeah. I am.”

There was a small moment of silence, the two of you staring at each other before he jumped off of the couch, swiftly making his way to the tree where Jiyuu was. He was quick to take his feathery friend to his cage, closing the door and covering it with the blanket he’d normally only use for him at night. Despite the bird's clear displeasure of being put to bed early, showcased through his sad-sounding caws as the cage was locked, he left the cover on and returned to you on the couch, towering over you with half-lidded eyes and a beet-red face.

“Uh, could you get on my lap when I sit down?” He asked timidly, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

You responded by nodding and sliding to the side, allowing him to sit while he dragged you onto his lap to straddle him.

Once again, it grew quiet. You were looking at anything but each other, the awkward tension making it difficult to keep eye contact. You were both used to intimate actions, but not intimate words, so anything you thought of saying fell short before it could leave your lips. 

It felt like you were fumbling teenagers again, lacking experience and not knowing where to begin—although Eren was the only one of you who had any to begin with. The most you had under your belt was some awkward and sloppy kissing between you and your short-term ex-boyfriends from high school, but he didn’t know that.

“Since this is a game… Do I get anything if I win?” You asked first, trying to break the ice and guarantee at least something good would come out of this.

You watched the cogs turn in Eren’s head for a moment before he responded, trying to figure out how to word it so that you didn’t request anything unreasonable after his answer, “I guess you can have something… Just tell me what, as long as it doesn’t have anything to do with leaving.”

It only took you a minute to decide what you wanted, the idea popping into your head rather quickly when you thought about what he would actually be willing to give, “Can I go in your room?”

He sighed hearing your response, a cross glare in his eyes while he reluctantly acceded, “Fine, but only if you A, win, and B, give me until tomorrow to clean it.”

The excitement you had grew rapidly, but just as it peaked, it dissipated when you remembered what you would have to do to get your reward, and the fact that it wasn’t guaranteed in the first place. The small smile that’d grown on your face faded once you realized it, and then the pressure ramped up once again.

“So…” He finally began, a short pause holding him while his eyes drifted down to your chest, his hands landing on your hips where he rubbed small circles into them with his thumbs, “Where should we start?”

You were both anxious, but he was the only one trying to hide it. His hands were shaking, but he tried to mask it with subtle movements down your plush thighs. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to feel all of you and run his hands over your entire body—but he wanted to make sure you wanted it too. He needed you to want it too.

“Wherever you want,” you replied, too nervous to say much else. His hands felt like fire against your cold skin, the feeling of them gliding over your body making your cheeks boil. 

His fingers grazed down to your knees and back up your body, stopping just below your chest to speak quietly, “I want to touch you everywhere though.” 

It was obvious what he wanted to do, but was too nervous to do it. His brows scrunched together while he stared at your chest, sunken in thought. The sight almost had you giggling from how silly he looked like that, so deeply focused on your breasts. To try and urge him forward and get past both of your anxieties, you slowly intertwined your fingers with his, leading his hands up to grope you.

His eyes flicked up to you as he made contact with your chest again, his gaze relaxing and eyes lighting up as they stared into yours. You looked so pretty in your current position, sitting on his lap with your cute thighs squished against him, your hands covering his, and your gorgeous eyes shying away from his stare. 

“Can I kiss you? Please?” He asked, leaning in so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of his crimson face while he squeezed you.

Letting out a small squeak from his grip, you decided to skip the verbal reply and gently pushed your lips against his, your noses bumping awkwardly because you were hesitant to do anything that could deepen the kiss further. Despite this, Eren missed the cue and tilted his head to the side, trying desperately to interlock your lips and part yours.

His groping grew rougher as he relaxed, fingers touching your nipples through the thin shirt you wore, the fabric barely shielding how hard they were growing. Your face was burning while he felt you up, sweat beading on your forehead when something stiff pressed against your crotch. 

It was so warm. Everything about him was warm. His body, his demeanor, even his smell. It was all so warm compared to the cold you always felt. Even before he took you away, it was always cold. But he was so warm.

“Eren…” you mumbled into his lips, your pulse rising and your arms falling over his shoulders.

He pulled away for a moment, face still inches away from yours, “What is it?”

“You’re warm.”

You could feel him chuckle as you said it, responding with “So are you.”

He kissed you again, this time carefully pushing his tongue between your lips in a way that was less than forceful and moving one of his hands to the back of your neck to hold you there. His touch sent tingles up your spine, your body melting into his hands. It was like your integrity burned away when he was close, and you couldn’t help but crave more.

Eren’s other palm slipped under your shirt, sliding up your stomach and squeezing your bare breast before lifting the fabric further. Your body tensed again, suddenly growing anxious at the thought of him seeing your chest nude. It’s not like he hadn’t before, but it was only now that it felt so nerve-wracking. You couldn’t pinpoint why, but now the thought made your heart race.

When he finally pulled his face away from yours, giving you time to breathe, it was only so he could pull your shirt over your head and throw it aside. Following that, his mouth was back on yours and he was reaching for your chest again—but this time, you stopped him. You took your arms off his neck to cover yourself, anxiety pulsing at the thought of him looking at you more. You didn’t feel this way the other times you’d been nude around him, so why were you so nervous now? Everything was burning all of a sudden, and it almost made you feel sick.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Eren questioned in his sweetest voice, attempting to quell your sudden fear by backing off to cup your cheek, his other hand resting on your thigh. You tried to look him in the eyes, but your stomach sank when you met them. His irises were the brightest, most intimidating green that made your heart ache, you couldn’t stand to stare. 

“I’m—I’m kind of scared.” You stammered, staring down at his hand while his thumb rubbed small circles into your skin.

His brows furrowed as he overthought what you said, “Just… all of a sudden? It wasn’t like this before, why now?” 

He didn’t mean to seem angry, but his expression showed the opposite. So, feeling pressured with a slight tinge of fear in your eyes, you quietly apologized and began to uncover yourself, afraid of upsetting him and causing any harm that might get you sent back downstairs. He stopped you immediately, grabbing your wrists and holding them so your arms still covered you. 

“Don’t apologize… It’s fine if you don’t want to.” He reassured, reaching to grab your shirt beside him on the couch, “I don’t want to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Sadness laced his tone, his expression matching it as he pulled the garment over your head. It wasn’t because you were hesitant to go further with him, you knew that, but your heart hurt to see him making such a face. So sad, even with the tiny smile on his lips that was meant to reassure you. It was more than just wanting to stay upstairs. You wanted to make him feel happy. Even if you felt guilty about how you would do it.

“No, no, Eren…” You stopped him from pulling the shirt down, pushing it back over your chest while you wiped your watering eyes with your other arm. “It’s—It’s not that. I'm just—I’m—So nervous.” 

“What are you nervous about?” He asked, trying to avoid the temptation of looking at your now bare torso while he addressed the issue at hand. 

“I don’t know,” you started, mentally going through the list of things that were making you anxious to find something to say other than the truth about the shame you felt, “This is just… a lot different than the last few times you’ve seen me naked. You’re so close so you’re going to see… everything.”

“I don’t care what they look like. The only thing I care about is that it’s you.” He grabbed your hands and squeezed them, cheeks blazing red as he leaned close to you to confess, “You’re perfect to me. So perfect.”

Your heart began to swell again, this time for a different reason. 

He always made you feel so wanted, even before he took you away, his words like a warm blanket around your needy heart. It almost had you crawling into his hold, with no intention of ever leaving. No one ever praised you like he did, so maybe that’s why it had such a large effect on you. You were so susceptible to it that it was dangerous to your escape, constantly tiptoeing the line between enjoying the praise and falling face-first into Stockholm syndrome. It was a dangerous game you were playing, and without even realizing, you were losing. 

“Can… you touch me again?” You asked quietly after letting his praise marinate in your head for a minute, prying your hands out of his to pull your shirt over your breasts again. 

Shocked by your sudden switch-up, his eyes widened for a moment before he awkwardly nodded while placing his hands on your waist, finally letting his eyes trail down to your breasts.

Seeing them so close sent blood rushing not only to his face, but also down under, his already semi-hard on pushing uncomfortably against his pants. He wanted to brand them with his bites and kisses, cover them in his spit, and bruise them with hickeys to claim them as his. He was opposed to rushing you though, so all he could do was drag his hands up your torso until they finally cupped around your soft flesh, squeezing lightly just to confirm that he was really touching you and that it wasn’t just another wet dream.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to repeat his reassurances in your head while he fondled you. His normally cold hands were warm against your skin, squishing and playing with your chest and making your already hot body feel like it was burning. 

He was pushing them together, bouncing them, and holding them in his palms. It was so embarrassing, but you were trying desperately to keep it together. When you finally brewed up enough confidence to pry your eyes open, you saw how happy he looked, as silly as it was, and it took everything inside of you not to let out a giggle that could’ve embarrassed him. You wanted him to keep enjoying himself, even if your face burned from the awkwardness of it.

But just as you were growing used his hands on you, he threw a question at you that hit like a brick to the face, draining every ounce of courage out of you in a split second, “Can I… suck on them?”

He was leaning towards your chest as he spoke, looking up at you with anticipating eyes that made another wave of intense heat flare through your face. You were barely getting used to his fondling, but to suck on them? You might faint. With no experience except your own fingers and numerous toys, you didn’t even know how sensitive your nipples could be. The thought of squirming around in his lap while he lapped so leisurely on your tits made you shiver. But at the same time, it also piqued your curiosity and made the warmth between your thighs grow. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s—That’s fine. Just—be gentle, ok? No one’s ever done that to me before…” You replied with a shaking voice, brows pushed together with worry while you avoided eye contact.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked rhetorically, hungry eyes still gazing up at you as he leaned towards your chest. He broke his stare to pull your shirt up and off again, cupping your breasts and latching onto one of your nipples like it was all he was born to do. 

You winced in response, anxious to experience the feeling for the first time. Just having your sensitive bud in his mouth felt so different, so warm and wet—so when he took a long, slow lick, you couldn’t stop the whimper that left your throat. 

He almost lost his composure right then when he heard that noise. It was amazing, like a slice of a heavenly melody he wanted to keep locked in his brain forever. He wanted more of those sounds. He needed more of them.

With your other breast cupped in his palm, he started to pinch and nudge the bud while he sucked softly on the one in his mouth. You were already letting out more quiet whines, holding the back of his head while your fingers tangled in his hair. You couldn’t even begin to explain the burning pleasure that rippled from your chest to your core or the throbbing ache that proliferated between your thighs. It felt so much better than you imagined, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Eren being the one to do it made your heart race. 

Desperate to pry more sounds from you, his intensity rose by the minute, lips tugging on your nipple and fingers pinching the other. As more soft whines and moans spilled from your mouth, your spine arching to push your chest further into his face, he could feel the stiffness in his pants painfully begging to be freed. You sounded beautiful, he just wanted to throw you onto the couch and fuck you senseless while you cried out. Holding back from that was so hard, especially with all the cute noises you were making. He wanted to take you right here, but he knew he’d have to be patient if he didn’t want you to feel rushed or forced. He needed to be like a wolf stalking its deer. Slow, calculated, determined.

Pulling away from your mound, he looked at your swollen, spit-covered bud, smiling to himself with newfound confidence while moving to your other one. His possessive feelings were growing with each mark he left on you, every new blemish claiming another piece of your body for himself. Once he had all of you, god knows how he’d act.

He had one arm around you, pushing you closer to him to make it easier for him to swallow your chest while his hands groped your ass and felt up the wet spot between your legs, just barely tugging at the hem of your shorts when the opportunity arose. He was sucking hard, running his tongue diligently over the nipple and flicking it repeatedly to steal more moans from you. Every noise, every whimper, and every whine was just more motivation to him, fueling his excitement to keep touching you and eventually have you touch him. He almost couldn’t take it anymore, the bulge in his pants becoming increasingly painful the longer this went on.

It seemed he finally snapped after a few more minutes of vigorous sucking and quiet whimpers, grabbing your arms and forcing his face away from your chest after he heard you whisper out his name. As much as he wanted to continue the petting, he needed to have you now or he might just burst. 

“Fuck whatever stupid idea I had for a game, I need you to touch me. I need you to touch me now, please.” Eren begged, sounding more desperate than you’d ever heard him before, almost growing teary-eyed at how pent-up he was becoming. His hips were roughly grinding into yours, praying for anything to rub against or release his tension. He was so frantic that you thought he might get on his knees and beg if you said no.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious. You wanted to know what he felt like and how he would react. You wanted to revel in the feeling of being desired so badly.

“You want me to touch you… that bad?” You asked, your voice quivering from the intense feeling rumbling through your body that you could only describe as heavy. Without Eren’s support, you would probably collapse into a hot mess on the couch.

Eren’s eyes grew wide as if you were spouting nonsense in a language he didn’t understand, “Of course I do! Why the hell do you think we’re here in the first place? I’ve never wanted anything so badly!”

His hands were shaking out of frustration, his grip strong enough to leave marks. Though, when the fear gleamed in your eyes and your muscles tensed up, he was quick to calm, loosening his hold and sliding his hands down to hold yours instead.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’m just… so, so desperate. I want you so badly,” He apologized, looking down to avoid shameful eye contact with you, “I need you. Badly.”

You stared at him quietly for a moment, playing around with the ideas in your head before deciding through your lust-clouded judgment that you wanted him too. In the moment, you didn’t care if you would regret it later. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted to have control over him, if only for a little while.

For once, you were the one to make the first move, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on his forehead while you reached your hand to his groin. His entire body stiffened as you put your hand on the tent in his pants, his cheeks flushing when he peeked up at you with that desperate look in his eyes.

“Please—Please be gentle. Don’t squeeze it too much, I don’t—know how much I can take…” He stuttered out as if the fabric holding his cock back hurt any less than you squeezing him too tightly would.

Nodding, you caressed him again, watching carefully as his eyes squeezed shut and he leaned back, uttering a soft moan from your hand on the underside of his cock. He was still tense, but you could see that he was enjoying your touch, so you carried on. Beginning gently, you cupped him through the thin fabric of his pajama pants and massaged your hand up and down his pulsing shaft, eventually moving to tug at the band around his waist to silently ask permission to free him from his confines. 

Although you wanted to take it slow, you were also desperate to see and touch him without the barrier separating you; and it seemed like he was too. That much was evident when he didn’t bother to let you pull his pants or boxers down, ripping them off himself and leading your hand back to his freed shaft by your wrist.

Catching on quickly, you tightened your hand around him and eyed up his length, examining it while he went back to gasping at every little movement you made. He was a lot bigger than you expected him to be up close, not to mention how heavy he felt in your palm. Seeing all of the little things you hadn’t noticed previously, it looked so different too. 

Veins crawled up from the bottom of his girth, stopping a few inches before reaching his head, and he was swollen and red at the tip, already leaking precum. His bush was well-trimmed, a tiny freckle at the base of it, and it curved upwards while it twitched in your hand. You never thought you’d see a dick that looked so… perfect. Just holding his weight in your hands had you clenching around nothing, the thought of it filling you up passing through your mind more than once.

You slowly moved your hand up, stopping with your thumb on the underside of where his head and shaft met. You’d read online about men being sensitive in that spot, and it appeared to be true by the way his breath hitched when you ghosted your digit over it. Curious, you pressed lightly and caressed the spot up and down, causing his hips to jolt unexpectedly while a louder gasp left his throat. 

“Ohh my god. Oh my god.” He breathed out, pushing his elbows into the cushions behind him to grip the couch beneath his thighs more efficiently. He’d never felt this good, even with his other, more experienced flings in the past. Even with less skill and precision, you were just so much better.

You were you. His dream. Everything he’d ever wanted in life. That’s what you were. His most prized possession, his most important person. That alone made everything feel superior. Because it was you doing it.

Enjoying the erotic look on his face, you kept up your motions and continued to stroke the spot below his head, sending him into a frenzy of squirms and whimpers as he grew overstimulated just by the pad of your thumb. His hips bucked up, desperate to get more friction to tip him over the edge of his already approaching orgasm.

“Fuck—Fuck, you have no idea how good this feels.” He uttered under his breath, voice shaking as you rubbed even faster. His whimpers were high-pitched, turning into something more akin to whines as he neared the end; but just as he was reaching the hilt of his pleasure, you pulled your hand away, leaving him to cry and plead for your touch again. 

Seeing him so desperate for it was such a change from his usual self. It was like the roles swapped, and now you were the one that had him wrapped around your finger. You never wanted it to end. You longed to keep what little control over him you had for as long as you could. Plus, he looked cute when he was the one tomato-faced and begging.

Leaning close, you kissed his jaw while he audibly sniffled, reaching up to put your hand behind his head and push it forward to kiss his forming tears away. He whimpered again, one hand clawing the couch while the other flew to your hip. You pecked his face, slowly trailing to his lips so you could kiss, fully entrapping him in the scheme forming in your head. 

Your fingers wrapped around his shaft for a second time, shocking him into pulling away before you pushed your lips against his again, assertive about keeping his mouth against yours. He was already moaning into you, grip growing tight as you began moving your hand up and down his length.

He was practically melting underneath you, arms trembling as your hand worked his hardness, pumping it rapidly. His cries for you were only growing louder, turning into muffled chants about how close he was to finishing. You loved to hear it, but you knew you didn’t want it to end so soon.

Once again, you let go of him, moving off of his lap and taking a seat next to him on your knees while he whined about your second absence. However, his complaints ceased when he realized what you were doing, your head already moving closer to his length and your hand taking its place at the base of it. 

“Wait, wait,” He panicked, trying to stop you, reaching forward to grab some of your hair and pull your head away, “Are—Are you sure you want to do that? It doesn’t taste as good as you might think.”

Your mouth changed from its open “O” into a pout, a frown taking over your features as he stopped you from finishing him off, “I know what I want, Eren. Please let me.”

With your familiar longing gaze piercing his, he was quick to give in and remove his hand from your head, thanking the lord that he held the motivation to wash himself regularly and make sure he was clean every time he interacted with you. Right now you wanted him almost as much as he wanted you, and if you were so certain about it then he wasn’t about to stop that. He needed to take his chance to savor it because god knows how long he’d wanted this and when he'd get another chance. You finally wanted him too, so it would be foolish to stop now.

“Just… don’t push yourself.” He muttered, running his hand down your back while you resumed what you were doing before.

You nodded with a quiet hum, placing a gentle kiss on the head and taking an experimental lick just below. Tracing the pad of your finger up and down his veins, you took in all of the little shudders you managed to coax out of him and began a trail of kisses down the underside of his length. The way he was almost pouting with embarrassment while his cheeks were such a deep shade of red was adorable, it just made you want more. You wondered if this was how he felt about you most of the time, so enamored that he couldn't think about anything other than your face.

Reaching the base with your pecks, his cock twitching every time you made contact, you stuck out your tongue and pressed it against him. Slowly and tediously, you dragged it back up to the top, leaving a trail of saliva in your wake while Eren bit back a whine. A few more frivolous kisses to the tip and you finally took him into your mouth, pushing your tongue against him while you lowered your head as much as you could without gagging.

Lifting your head, you peered up at him, studying his face while you tried to force more into your mouth, unable to fit more than a few inches before tears emerged in the corners of your eyes. He was so big, you could barely get anything in, but that didn’t seem to affect the amount of pleasure it gave him when you finally began bobbing your head. Eren was already turning into a mess again, but the second you started moving the hand on his shaft in rhythm with your mouth, he nearly broke down crying from the feeling. 

Tracing shaky hearts on your back, he stared down at you, trying to burn the image he saw into his memory and lock it away for safekeeping. It was exhilarating to see you like this, so much so that he had to cover his mouth to prevent the moans that slipped out from growing too loud. He couldn’t handle it, especially after being edged twice, he was going to go crazy if you didn’t let him finish this time. 

Holding himself still was the most difficult thing, especially when all he wanted to do was hammer into your throat like there was no tomorrow—but he didn’t want to make you choke on him. Not yet, at least. It felt too early to be that rough with you. 

Being built up and denied satisfaction the last two times meant it wasn't long before the band was stretched again, dangerously close to breaking. The way your tongue pressed against the sensitive spot below his head, the way your fingers curled around him and stroked everything that didn’t fit in your mouth had him gasping for air. It was driving him up the wall, pushing him so close that he could feel himself at the very edge, nearly tumbling over it even if you weren’t the best at what you were doing. 

When your eyes flicked up to meet his, watching his ruby-red and sweat-slicked face twisted with pleasure, he finally snapped. You watched his eyes squeeze shut as he threw his head back, crying out in whimpers as he lost control of his hips through his orgasm, repeatedly chanting “I love you” between swears.

You couldn’t help but gag as more than you could handle was shoved down your throat, eyes going wide as your mouth was coated with a bitter taste that made you wince. You had to pull away while he was still coming, coughing and gagging more at the feeling of his release in your throat while the rest spilled over your hand.

Eren was apologizing under his breath, still struggling through the pleasure of his climax—but you decided to push him the slightest bit further as revenge for making you choke, massaging your finger over the same spot you had earlier and sending a shock through his entire body again. You continued to touch him as you sat up, leaning into him with your head on his shoulder so you could feel the way he shook from the overstimulation. 

“Please—Please, oh my god I can’t take it.” He cried, tears bordering his eyes as you teased him. Seeing that you didn’t want to go too overboard, you decided to give him mercy and let go, watching him go limp as his body finally relaxed. He was panting, covered in sweat like he’d just finished one of the intense basketball scrimmages you used to watch him do, even though he’d only gotten sucked off and pleasured. It was almost cute to you, mostly because it made it much more obvious how much of a hold you had on him, and you enjoyed it. You enjoyed being desired.

  Following a few minutes of quiet, filled only with sounds of his panting and shuffling of you snuggling against his arm, he spoke up again through pants, slowly coming back into his normal headspace that was dedicated to caring for you, “Was… Was that okay? Are you doing okay?”

Your eyes half-lidded while you stared at him from his shoulder, you nodded with a smile spreading across your lips. The bliss of everything was still holding onto you, the giddy feeling that bubbled in your chest stemming from the moments prior. You just wanted to stay like this, cuddled up against him while you relaxed together in sweet silence, only broken occasionally by your back-and-forth comments about aftercare and gentle kisses to his collarbone.

When Eren finally decided to get up, still so delirious from the pleasure that he hadn’t even thought about how you were out of sight, it was only to grab a rag and some water from the kitchen. Then was back on the couch as quickly as he’d left, tidying you up and pulling you into his lap to cradle you. While you clung to him, burying your face into his neck, he leaned forward to grab your shirt from the floor, quickly pulling it over your head so you could get back to cuddling. 

You were feeling oddly clingy, more so than before. You just wanted to stay in his arms, snuggled up to his warm body. It was the most at peace you’d felt since you’d been taken. It felt nice. 

Suddenly pulling you out from your comfort, Eren pushed your face away from his neck, eliciting a whine from you as he grabbed the glass of ice water and brought it up to your lips, “Come on, you should drink. I know that I probably didn’t taste very good…”

Pouty about being pulled away, you snapped back playfully with a raised brow while pushing the glass away, “How would you know what you taste like?” 

His face twisted in embarrassment, his brows furrowing as he stammered trying to explain himself, “Well, I don’t, but I’ve just—I’ve been told it doesn’t taste very good.”

You giggled at his response, “That doesn’t mean you don’t taste good to me,” even though it was true that he tasted rather foul.

Slightly flustered, Eren quickly tried to regain control of the conversation, feigning confidence while placing his hand on your nape to push your face close to his, “Well why don’t you let me have a taste for myself so I can see?”

“Mm, how am I supposed to do that?” You asked.

“Like this.” He replied, pushing his lips against yours and dipping his tongue into your mouth before pulling away just as quickly, leaving you stunned at his sudden shamelessness.  

While you were still staring at him with your mouth slightly agape, he pushed the glass cup into your hands, forcing you to hold it as he guided it up to your mouth. Finally pulled out of your trance, you let out a small sigh and took a sip, the cool water finally washing away the bitter taste his release had left in your mouth. 

“I guess I don’t taste that bad,” He started, which on its own almost caused you to spit out the water, only to be shocked again when he continued the statement, “Or maybe I was just tasting you.”

You nearly choked while trying to swallow, yelling out afterward and slapping his shoulder, “Eren!”

“Shh, shh, just come here so I can hold you again.” He cooed, taking the glass from you and pulling you against him, “My angel.”

Pressing kisses to your head, he smiled as you snuggled into him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck while he pet your hair. With both of you relaxed, it was quiet once more, the two of you cuddled into each other as the silence surrounded you, leaving you both to your thoughts.

Eren was thinking about what you’d said, about what you wanted if you won his “game.” Even if you didn’t remember it in the moment, he would feel bad if he didn’t give it to you eventually. Not to mention, you were smart. You’d end up asking about it again at some point. He knew you would, and the thought of it made him anxious.

It’s not that he didn’t want you to go into his room, it was just that the things he had out would be deathly embarrassing for you to see. Once he got the chance to clean everything up, it would be fine for you to come in. If anything, he wanted you to stay in his room. He wanted to be able to trust you enough to sleep in his bed with him, to experience that kind of deep intimacy with you; but with everything you’d done recently, he still wasn’t sure about it. However, he did have a somewhat peculiar idea about what you could do to gain his trust—one that would get the authorities off of his back too if he played the cards right. Your reaction to the idea would tell him all he needed to know about how much he could trust you too. It was brilliant—at least to him, it was.

As if your minds were parallel to one another, you decided to speak up and ask about what’d been promised to you, “Hey… am I still gonna get my reward since I technically won that game you mentioned?” 

“Funny you say that actually, I was just thinking about it,” he began his reply, tightening his arms around you so that you would be as flush against him, no space separating you, “And I thought about something else we could do that you might like a little more.”

Jumping to the conclusion that he was trying to back out of his past agreement, a frown formed on your face and you opened your mouth to scold him, only to be stopped with a finger pushed to your lips followed by his loud shushing.

“Shh! Just let me finish before you chew me out!” He hushed you, pressing kisses between your wrinkled brows until they relaxed, then continuing, “My idea wasn’t that different from yours. It’s pretty much the same. I’ll let you come into my room tomorrow, except I’ll also let you stay the night with me there.”

Again not allowing him to finish, you interrupted excitedly with a smile already taking over your face, “Really? In your bed? With you?”

Eren already spent many of his nights downstairs with you, but that wasn’t the same as sleeping with him in his bed. Sleeping in his room not only meant you were free from the unfriendly aura of the basement, but that you would have light when you woke up. You could wake up to the warm morning sun for the first time in a month. You’d missed it so much.

“Yes. With me.” He began again, clearing his throat and frowning at your repetitive habit of interrupting him, “But only under one condition.” 

Taking note of his annoyance, you stayed quiet this time, eyeing him as a way of silently asking him to continue.

“You need to call the police department tomorrow morning and tell them you don't want to go home.”

taglist; @kpostedsum @missyasma @localdepressedvampire @chateks @erenyeagerdrip00 @beclover @tiffanyy-21 @momoewn @alienvarmint @berriesandcrem @erenjagerwifee @Sashaisahoeee @jkeluv @bobateasilverpearl (ask to join, and since it's been a while let me know if you changed your username and want to be back on the taglist or leave it! <;3)

#eren x reader smut #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #yandere eren x reader #yandere eren x reader smut #yandere eren x you #yandere eren #yandere eren jaeger #yandere eren yeager #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger fic #eren jaeger smut #tw: yandere #tw: yandere themes #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: obsession #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent #tw: stockholm syndrome #forest fics #ch:erenj #milk honey and sugar #eren fanfiction #eren smut #eren x y/n

[finnfrei]

Hey there, i love your art very much!! Especially the recent BG3 portraits. As someone who's switching to digital art and works with colour for the first time, could i ask: how do you figure out the right colours for your drawings? Do you premake a pallete, or pick one colour and then work from there or something else? Any tips would be welcome, keep drawing ❤️

Hey! Ah, thank you so much, I really appreciate it!

That’s a tough question to be honest. I find myself struggling with colors almost every time.

As I start an illustration I mostly have a rough idea what I want it to look like colorwise. Basically there’re two ways for me when it comes to coloring.

1. If it’s something more simple like a portrait or a character design, I tend to pick one base color and paint the whole object. From there I adjust each separate part such as hair, clothes, etc by moving slightly along the color wheel and changing the darkness and saturation depending on whether for example hair should be darker or lighter. For me personally in that case I prefer using analogous (picture below) colors and maybe add some complimentary (on the opposite side of the wheel) colors for highlights or backgrounds.

2. If I get too lost in the color choices, I scroll through illustrations of other artists I like and choose some that would suit the general mood best. Procreate and, I believe, CSP have a function where you can create a color pallet from a picture. I’m sure you could find some similar web or app, if your software doesn’t have the feature. Then I just use the colors from the pallet and build up on them, adjust according to what seems to work best for me.

Although if I had to give some basic tips based on personal preferences:

1. Never use black, avoid using white. I prefer using dark and saturated blue, purple, red instead of black. Light and less saturated base color instead of white.

2. In general I prefer working with more saturated colors, but got to be careful, not to overdo it, not to create crazy colorful mess. But again that’s my personal preference.

3. Avoid using too much different colors. I mostly try to stick to three, max four colors in one illustration and just use their adjusted versions (darker/lighter, more/less saturated) for shadows and highlights.

4. Contrast is more important than colors.

Guess, that’s what comes to mind first, hope it makes sense at least a little. In general I’m really chaotic when it comes to colors, so I’m probably not the best person to give advices. However, if you have any questions, I’ll be happy to try and help as much as I can.

Good luck on your creative journey!

[trashyswitch]

The Hierarchy of Tickle Monsters

Michael and Evan spend their afternoon playing like typical siblings...And then Michael finds out a funny little secret about his little brother. And their father is more than eager to share more about Evan's secret...Whatever gets the little boy laughing rather than crying.

This fanfic was suggested by Danipokemonlover on AO3, and an anonymous user. HEY DANI! ACCEPT MY GIFT, DAMMIT! Anyway, I hope you both enjoy!

1...

Evan was holding his golden Freddy bear, hugging it and fixing its bow. He loved this little bear like his life depended on it. It was about the only thing Evan felt safe with when it came to his father’s animatronics. He didn’t really understand his brother’s love for his Foxy mask…but he didn’t go around laughing at him for it…unlike his older brother, who usually makes fun of him for carrying his teddy bear around. 

Evan began to feel something hopping on his back, but tried to ignore it. 

“Oh! Hey Freddy!” His brother said in an over exaggerated low voice. 

Evan looked to his right to the sound, and widened his eyes when he saw the stuffed animal. “Bonnie!” Evan reacted, reaching out for the stuffy. 

“Ah ah ah.” He muttered, shaking his head and pulling it away from him. 

Evan whined. “Michael! Gimme him!” Evan whined. 

“If you take him, I can’t play with you.” Michael told him with a smile. 

Evan looked at Michael out of the corner of his eye, before grabbing his Freddy stuffy out from his arm. “Hi Bonnie. What are you doing?” Evan asked in his best Freddy voice as he turned to face Michael. 

Michael smiled and started to go along with Evan’s dialogue. “Looking for Chica. Have you seen him?” Bonnie (Michael) asked. 

“No, I haven’t. Have you checked the kitchen? I hear she loves to bake there.” Freddy (Evan) replied. 

Michael smiled. “No, actually. I didn’t think of that. I’ll check.” He started to ‘walk’ Bonnie away. When Bonnie had ‘walked’ a few feet away, he walked back to Freddy with his head down slightly. “She’s not there…” Bonnie told him, sounding disappointed. 

“She’s not?” Freddy clarified. “That’s weird. She loves the kitchen.” 

Bonnie nodded his head. “She’s not in there. Where else would Chica be?” Bonnie asked. 

“What about in the dining room? Is she getting the tables ready for the birthday kids?” Freddy asked. 

Bonnie shook his head. “I usually have to go through the dining room to get to the kitchen. And she’s not there.” Bonnie replied. 

Freddy nodded. “Maybe she’s off getting fixed by Uncle Henry.” Freddy (Evan) mentioned. 

Michael laughed a bit in his normal voice, before switching back to the Bonnie voice. “I’ll go check the workshop.” Bonnie offered, lifting up a plastic toy hammer. 

Evan laughed and shook his head. “Thehey don’t use hammers for robots!” Evan reacted. 

“They don’t?!” Bonnie reacted, looking at the toy hammer, and making the toy hammer look back at Bonnie. “Then can you explain why we heard hammering the other day?” Bonnie asked. 

Evan kept laughing, lowering his freddy doll and not even trying to talk in the Freddy voice anymore. “Dahahad wahas fihixing something in the garahahage!” Evan explained. 

“Oooooh! Fixing what?” Bonnie asked. “Fixing what, huh?” he asked, bringing the Bonnie stuffy closer. “Fixing a shelf? Fixing Foxy?” He brought Bonnie slightly closer. “Fixing the old clock that’s in the basement? Fixing WHAT?!” Bonnie asked next. 

Evan started doubling over, laughing a little bit harder as his imagination went wild with images of a cartoon version of his father, smashing the grandfather clock with a huge hammer. Every hit would make wood pieces and nails explode in every direction in a cartoony way, and miraculously always left his father unscathed by the debris. And then to make it even more funny, Michael grabbed a fake analog clock kids toy and made Bonnie started hammering it with the toy hammer, making dramatic smashing sounds. “BOOM, BOOM, BOOM- IS THIS WHAT HE WAS DOING?! BOOM BOOM!” Michael shouted rather loudly before going right to ‘causing a racket’. 

Evan finally fell over onto his side, just cackling and laughing away. And even when he tried to speak and add commentary, he just couldn’t because of how much he was laughing! 

“Ohoho my god, I knew I was funny, but man…Breathe, Evan!” Michael reacted. Even he himself couldn’t stop himself from laughing alongside him! 

“Ihihihi cahahan’t!” Evan told him. 

“Oh you can’t?” Michael asked with a smirk, walking up with the Bonnie stuffy. “You can’t?” He asked again, but in his Bonnie voice this time. “What’s making you laugh, Fredbear?” Bonnie (Michael) asked, bringing the stuffy’s face right close to Evan’s. “Is the invisible man tickling you again?” Bonnie asked next. 

Evan was getting all giddy and euphoric from the laughing fits by this point. “Nohohoho, hehehehe’s nohohohot.” Evan admitted. 

Michael smirked and tilted Bonnie stuffy’s head slightly. “Are you suuuure?” Then, Michael shoved Bonnie onto Evan’s chest and started wiggling it around, making fake nibble noises. “OMNOMnomnomnom. Omnomnomnomnomnom.” Michael teased. 

“eeEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE!” Evan laughed even louder and more high-pitched, kitty-fighting the Bonnie stuffy for a few moments. 

Then, Michael moved the stuffy away from his chest, and paused his nibbles. 

He went silent…

He took in a deep breath and quickly brought the stuffy’s face up to Evan’s stomach this time, shaking the stuffy again and making more nibble sounds. “Omnomnomnomnom.” Michael kept teasing and playing. 

“HEHEHEEEEEHEHEEEHEHEEE!” Evan laughed, kicking his feet and patting the stuffy’s head. 

He moved the stuffy away from his stomach with a short pause…another quiet moment…

A BIG breath…

Touchdown, crazy shaky-shakey, and- 

“OMNOMNOMNOMnomnomnomnom.” Michael teased. 

“HAHAHAHAHahahahaha! Mihihihichael plehehehehease!” Evan started to beg. 

Bonnie moved away from his stomach. “Yeeeesss?” Bonnie asked. 

“Ihihihit wahahas fuhuhuhunny behefore, but now Ihi’m tihired.” Evan told him. 

Bonnie stared at him for a good 10 seconds…before shoving Bonnie’s face into Evan’s neck. “Omnomnomnomnom. Good night kisses for the giant child. Omnomnomnomnomnom.” Bonnie (Michael) declared. 

Evan laughed and struggled to cover his face with his hands. “Nohohohoho, nohoho kihihihisses.” Evan tried to tell him. 

Bonnie gasped. “No kisses?!” He asked, surprised. “But kisses are the most wonderful forms of affection ever!” Bonnie reacted. 

“Ihihit’s ehembarrassihihihing.” Evan told Michael and the Bonnie toy. 

“Oh, kisses are embarrassing now?!” Bonnie reacted, before planting ‘kisses’ on his neck. “Mwah-mwah-mwah-mwah-mwah. Imagine what your mother would say if she heard you right now!” Bonnie reacted before giving Evan’s cheeks and neck plenty more ‘smooches’. 

“Mihihihihike plehehehehease!” Evan giggled. 

“Alright, alright.” Michael replied, removing Bonnie from his face and placing him down. “Too much?” Michael asked. 

Evan looked at Michael for a couple moments before looking down, visibly unsure whether he should answer yes or no. “Ummm…” Evan started to say, before visibly blushing a bit more. “N-No…” Evan eventually replied. 

Michael smirked. “Really?” He clarified. “If it wasn’t too much, then why make me stop?” Michael asked. 

Evan looked up, huffing. “You’re being mean!” Evan argued. 

“I’m stating facts!” Michael reacted. “And the fact is, you like being teased.” 

Evan looked at him. “Well…Yeah.” He replied. 

“So you admit it?” Michael said with a smirk. 

“Admit what?” Evan asked. 

“That you like being teased.” Michael clarified. 

Evan nodded his head. “Yes.” 

Michael widened his eyes. “Oh my gosh…” Michael took off running out of Evan’s room, and out to the living room. “MOM! DAD! EVAN LIKES BEING TEASED!” Michael yelled. 

“Michael, we know.” His mom replied. 

“He likes being tickled too.” William added, flipping the newspaper page. 

Michael widened his eyes even more and dropped his jaw. 

Wait, WHAT?! 

“DAD!” Evan yelled. “WHY?!” 

William looked at Michael. “You didn’t know that?” William asked. 

Michael blinked and shook his head. “......No. I didn’t.” he admitted. 

William chuckled and looked back at the newspaper. “Alright. Have fun with that information.” He said before looking back at a portrait picture in the paper. 

Michael turned around and smirked at Evan. 

Evan’s eyes were wide while he stared at her, both scared and exhilarated by seeing Michael become all evil and mischievous. “M-Michael…” He muttered. 

“Michael?” He asked. “Who’s Michael?” He asked next with a smirk. “Y-You’re not-” “Me?” The boy asked. “Oh no no no, I’m not Michael.” He told him before starting to run towards him. “I’m the TICKLE MONSTER!” Michael shouted as he sprinted. 

Evan screamed with both fear and excitement, before he was picked up by Michael and carried back to Evan’s bedroom. “WAIT-WAHAHAHAIT!” Evan laughed. “MIHICHAEL-” 

“Go for the neck. He likes tickly kisses on the neck.” William told him from the living room. “DAHAHAD PLEHEHEASE!” Evan yelled before breaking out in squeaky giggles. 

The tickle monster (Michael) started playfully nibbling in Evan’s neck, focusing on holding Evan with his hands while nibbling all over the right side and back of his neck. “Omnomnomnomnom.” Michael playfully said.

Evan giggled and kicked his legs forward and backward. “Mihihihichahahael! Plehehehease!” Evan reacted. 

“I have no idea who this ‘Michael person’ is. I know who I am, but who’s Michael?” The tickle monster asked. 

“Hehehehe’s my brohohother!” Evan admitted. 

“Oooooh! How wonderful to hear! Tell me, kid: What’s he like?” The tickle monster asked with a smile. 

“Hehehehe’s sihihihilly!” Evan replied. 

“Oh he iiiiis? That’s good to know.” The tickle monster said. “If I ever meet this ‘Michael’ character, what’s something I should know about him?” The tickle monster asked Evan. 

“Hehehehe lohohoves Fohohoxyhyhy!” Evan told him. “Oh yeah? Does he like foxes too?” The tickle monster asked. 

“Ihihihi dohohon’t knohohow.” Evan replied. 

“I’ll give you a little hint…” The tickle monster leaned into Evan’s ear. “He does.” He whispered. 

Evan giggled and curled his neck to the side, covering up his ear with his shoulder as best he could. “Mihihike plehehehease, ihihit feheheels weheheheird.” Evan admitted. 

“Oh it feels weird?” The tickle monster reacted. 

“Yehehehess! Lihihike a wehehehet wihihillie.” Evan admitted. 

“Wet willie?!” The tickle monster rolled his eyes. “No no no.” Michael put his own index finger into his mouth, licked it and shoved it into Evan’s ear. “THIS-” Michael said, before twirling it around. “-is a wet willie.” Michael teased. 

Evan squeaked and started giggling and whining. “Eheheheewwww! Yohohohou’re grohohohoss.” Evan complained. 

Michael pulled out his finger and flapped his hands around. “Yeah, you’re right…I AM gross.” Michael admitted before putting Evan down. “I’m gonna wash my hands. Hold on…” Michael left the room and walked to the bathroom, turning on the tap the moment he reached it. He started to wash off his finger, rubbing soap on only the finger and rinsing it off. Then, he turned off the water and dried his hands off before leaving the bathroom. 

Michael walked out to the living room and sat down. “So you were right.” Michael said. “His neck is very ticklish.” Michael said. “You’re not a bad tickle monster.” William said. 

Michael smiled a bit. “Thanks, Dad.” 

William chuckled. “Just don’t forget about the best tickle monster within this house.” William added, folding up the paper. 

“You?” His wife clarified. “Says the most ticklish person in this house.” she added. 

“Wha- Meeee?! Noooo.” William muttered, biting his lip as he struggled to hide his growing blush. 

“A little reminder of the mini monster incident?” She said, looking at Michael. “When you and 8 year old Michael had a tickle fight for 20 minutes straight?” She reminded him. 

William narrowed his eyes at his wife. “That’s because he was refusing to give up.” William admitted. 

“And because you were ALSO refusing to give up.” She added. 

“Yeah! I’m not gonna let my 8 year old son beat me as the tickle monster around here.” William added. 

“Too afraid of Uncle Henry finding out?” Michael teased. 

William looked at Michael with a slight bit of nervousness. “W-Well…” He stuttered. “I…” 

“And teasing you about it?” Michael teased further. 

William narrowed his eyes at Michael. “Why would I be scared of Henry finding out you had ‘beaten’ me out as the tickle monster?” William asked. 

Mrs. Afton smirked. “Because of pride.” She replied. 

William looked at his wife with a warning expression on his face. 

“And because William’s 3 times more ticklish than Henry.” Mrs. Afton added before looking down at her book. 

William grumbled and crossed his arms, acting even more immature than Evan was capable of at this point. Michael had bursted out laughing at this point, while Mrs. Afton was giggling at her husband’s immaturity too. The truth is…Henry is more of a tickle monster than William is. He’s capable of tickling William till there’s no tomorrow. 

But in the hierarchy of tickle monsters, The lower part of the pyramid is Michael. Though he’s low right now, he’ll quickly rise to the top overtime. The middle part of the pyramid is William. Top of the pyramid in the Afton house, but overpowered by just one person…

The top of the pyramid…is Henry Emily. 

And he will remain that way up until the day he dies. 

And...this is it. This is the big finale. This is the last FNAF fanfiction I will ever upload about every FNAF character in the future. If the FNAF movie ends up being really good, then I may temporarily open up the fandom again for the movie...and then close it again once I experience burnout again.

The only exception to this, will be writing about 2 brothers...

That's right, I'm gonna start only writing fanfics for Sun and Moon. And if I end up properly watching it, I may even extend it to The Sun and Moon Show. But...we'll see what I have time for. I still have to finish The Mandela Catalogue...So...

#brotherly love #stuffed toys #michael afton is crying child's older brother #the crying child is named evan #teasing #ticklefic #ler!michael #lee!evan #implied switch!william #mentioned henry emily

[foone]

Hi I'm Foone Turing. I've been here a while but never really did an introduction post, so...

Hi. Yes, that's my name. I'm an asexual trans enby (they/them pronouns), I'm married, and I'm both older than you expect and younger than you expect, depending on what you know me from. I'm a writer and programmer. I'm better known on Twitter, at the moment. I'm well known for being severely ADHD and I'm also on the autism spectrum, somewhere near ultraviolet. I live near Oakland, California, USA, but I grew up on a farm in the south. I'm a furry, but I don't have a fursona yet.

I'm big into retrotech stuff, especially floppy disks. 80s and 90s PC stuff mainly, but I have a passing interest in everything else. I loves me some weird tech that you have no idea ever existed. I'm also big into analog media. VHS tapes, laserdiscs, that sort of thing.

Fandom wise, I'm a Trekie from way back, primarily in the TNG/DS9/VOY/ENT era. I haven't yet gotten into the new stuff, and I have only a passing knowledge of the original series. I'm also a big fan of Babylon 5, Red Dwarf, and Doctor Who (4th doctor, and new who doctors 9,10,11). I watch a bunch of British panel shows: HIGNFY, Mock the Week, Nevermind the Buzzcocks, 8 out of 10 cats (primarily the countdown spinoff).

I am a Big Hater on crytypocurrentseas and AI art. I used to be famously mad at the JWST, but now that it's in space and functional, I've calmed down. They just need to rename it and I'm golden.

I'm currently splitting my social media presence across three sites:

* Tumblr, obviously. Shitposting, jokes, queer stuff, and queer joke shitposts are all going here.

* mastodon: I'm putting my tech stuff here. Teardowns, building new death generators, fun historical weirdness.

* Twitter: formerly my primary platform, but now I just use it to keep in touch with people and make fun of the impending collapse of Twitter.

Stuff I do and have done after the readmore.

(I'm on mobile now but I'll get back to this on the desktop and add more links)

* I run lettuce.wtf, a webcam showing a lettuce to see if it will outlast Twitter. (My money is literally on the lettuce)

* my long running site The Death Generator: a tool for making fake video game screenshots, with user supplied dialogue.

* I run some Twitter bots, one of which is more popular than me, and all of which will need to be migrated soon: Gay Cats, WinIcons, Print Shop Deluxe, and Every Clue Line.

* I got Microsoft 3D Movie Maker open sourced

* I got rickrolled so hard that it ended up on national TV

* I ran doom on a pregnancy test

* I have made many horrible and weird keyboards. Keyboards with hair, keyboards which write poetry, keyboards that take 5 hours to say "hello world", keyboards with randomly placed keys, keyboards with 7 toggle switches instead of buttons, and many more.

* I tear down random electronics and try to figure out and explain how they work. (originally on Twitter, but moving over to mastodon now)

* I pissed off the FBI on more than one occasion. They tried to get me fired, they delayed my wedding by over a month, and they mentioned my 4chan nickname in a federal trial.

* I used to work for 4chan. I was a moderator and coder, I created /rs/ and /r9k/, and I convinced moot to destroy the original politics board (for obvious reasons). Things went further to shit after I left, but I am still glad I left. Oh and I also inadvertently prevented the creation of the 4chan dating/meet up site by being too ADHD to actually complete development of it. You're welcome.

* I ran a windows 95 machine for the maximum amount of time. There's a bug where it crashes after 49.7 days of uptime, so I let it happen. I livestreamed the end on YouTube.

* I've done exhibits at the Vintage Computer Festival on the history of floppy disks and optical discs.

* I've worked with the Video Game History Foundation (and others) to preserve old games and game development resources (source code and such). I'm big into archival!

* I wrote a really famous Twitter thread about the surprising way our vision works, which is still circulating in screenshots (including on Tumblr!) something like 5-6 years later.

* I made my old apartment play the Zelda Ocarina of Time shop music when you walked I the door.

* I run the Tumblr animefloppies, collecting screenshots and GIFs of floppy disks in anime.

* I run several other sub-tumblrs for collecting weird things, but I'll have to link them later.

* I am technically a speedrunner. I did the TAS of Duke Nukem 1, episode 1, and a joke speedrun of Solar Winds, where I beat the game by ignoring every single possible objective and just flying to the end, which takes over an hour.

* I used to make games. Some of them are available for download.

* but it still do, too: I'm working on a (currently unnamed) game about managing a dairy farm. Both the developers have ADHD. This is going to take forever before it comes out, if it ever does.

* I'm currently working on three books. Two are compilations of stuff previously twitterized, one is a novel:

- Always Screaming Forever: non-fiction, stories about my career in the tech industry and various other tech/science/history stuff I love ranting about.

- The Other Side of Screaming: fiction. My short stories.

- Mundane Kaya Sona (placeholder title): a linguist gets pulled into an FBI investigation into a car crash. An unknown language leads to the discovery of a wizard living in a forest in Oregon, and an interdimensional plot to smuggle nuclear weapons to another world, and break a cold war stalemate we (the planet earth) didn't realize we were in. I've been working on the setting for this story since I was about 7 years old, and I'm excited to finally get it out of my head and into yours.

* I'm probably forgetting like 5-10 major things I've done but ADHD is a hell of a drug. I'll add more as they come to me.

#Introduction #Foone

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Not Natural

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: I accidentally wrote something new so not a ton of warnings. We'll see what happens later. Magic, possibly abo, spn inspired, blood, gore, violence, drug use, dark fic maybe, fixing a shoulder, a bit brutally, insults, come ons, I don't actually know much yet so enjoy ⚰️ rating: mature

The blood was still fresh on Dom's boots as he pushed his way into the no-tell motel he'd picked to crash in for the week. His shoulder was aching something awful, if he wasn't mistaken it was out of place yet again but he hadn't had time yet to stop and put it back in place. The moment he was safely inside he double checked the different safety measures he had set up around the room before he dropped his bag off his good shoulder and took a seat in one of the chairs the room had to offer. The ratted old mattress was calling to him almost louder than the screams still echoing in his mind but he hated getting his sheets messy. Shower first.

"I think you should leave it. I don't think you can get any more fluids on those sheets. Good thing you don't carry around a black light." A voice came out of the darkness, teasing and gruff. It made the boy jump but he tried not to show it. Dom's hand slid down his leg but before he could reach for his hidden knife he caught the sound again. A laugh. "I could have your heartstrings as dental floss before you could even try. If I wanted you dead you would be."

His jade eyes tried to search the darkness for any hint of where the voice was coming from. He hadn't switched on all the lights because he honestly didn't like to see all the mess. He was starting to realize that was a mistake, he just hoped it wasn't one his life depended on. For a moment he wondered if the voice was just a new one in his head, he'd had plenty since he was young, and new ones popping up all the time. Then he saw the eyes. "Colorful fhreat. You right, so why ain't I?" He huffed back, he was honestly a little too tired to deal with anything else and normally if they wanted a fight they didn't stand around talking. This one wanted something, he just wasn't sure what. "'Ow'd you get passed me wards?"

A smile curled under the eyes like a Cheshire cat. The analogy wasn't too far off he thought, the thing might want to eat him. He just hoped it would make it quick. "Those are cute. You might want something a little stronger kid. You're pissing off the wrong people."

"Or the right ones."

There was the laugh again. "Yeah maybe. Shiiiit, I had heard you were all proper English but I think your story has been a bit inflated. There's not a proper bone in your body is there…" The thing paused and his hand appeared from the shadows. The fingers snapped and the boy groaned when his shoulder was forcefully popped back into place. He wouldn't make more of a noise, he wouldn't give the beast the satisfaction of hurting him. Fuck that. "-Dom."

Dom rolled his shoulder and sighed, cracking his neck before he sat back and smiled. "Fanks. Am I supposed to be scared you know me name? Wait, was you insulting me?"

The laugh, the smile, the creature finally stepped out of the shadows and Dom was suitably surprised. The fucker was tall and lean, tattooed and… a little bit of a pretty boy if he was honest. "Thanks." He grinned, taking a seat on the bed still calling to Dom though the sight made his stomach flip. How did the monsters always look so sensual? It didn't seem fair. "Quick on the uptake huh kid? Nah, not insulting. I like it dirty. And if you must know, I'm higher on the food chain than those charms can ward off. I can help you if you want."

It was Dom's turn to laugh but he didn't think the sound of his was as sexy. It was more shocked than anything. "Wha' the fuck you on about? 'Elp me? Why would ya do tha'?"

The monster's head tilted, his almost white blonde hair falling in his face. His eyes were such a human blue it almost made Dom forget. "Maybe someone pissed me off. Maybe I think you're cute. Maybe it's all a fucking game to me and I'll kill you later, does it really matter? You can feel me can't you? You can tell my strength? Why the hell would you deny my help?"

"Look bruv, I jus' took out two of ya… siblings or wha'ever. I ain't slept in four days. I'm tired and I know I need to move on bright and bloody early. I don't know wha' ya want but if you ain't 'ere for a fight…" He trailed off and took the giant risk of standing up and walking past the monster. He was surprised when it let him get to the door of the bathroom but when he pushed it open he had to swallow a whine. The bastard was sitting on the back of his toilet with a shit eating grin.

"By all means. I can talk while you bathe." It purred, pulling a cigarette case from its leather jacket. Dom rolled his eyes as the monster lit up what he realized after a moment was a joint but when he tried to flip the overhead vent on it kept snapping its fingers to turn it off. "Those bitches weren't anywhere near my level, I've probably killed more of them than you. If you'd like a shower and some sleep I'll watch over you." It said as Dom hip checked the doorway. "Your clothes are getting sticky."

"Fuck you."

"Not the kindest way to ask but let me answer after you've showered? I thought you hunters were supposed to be smooth."

"I fhought demons were supposed to be scary but here we are." Dom wasn't in the mood to play. He was exhausted and hurting- although less than before, and all he wanted was a few hours of rest before he had to start back on the road the next day. But first a fucking shower.

"If you want me to make you piss yourself…" The demon trailed off, his eyes flashing a strange color Dom had never seen before. He'd been hunting for years and focused on demons for most of that time. The odd blue and black light almost made his blood run cold as the lights flickered above him. "But then I'd really start to like you." It teased and the eyes switched back as quickly as they appeared. "Look kid, we're after the same thing alright? You called to me."

The hunter was positive that hadn't happened, he never called for anyone but especially not a random possibly higher up demon. He was tempted to say yes for just a moment, he would love a little help, but mixing it up with monsters was how his whole life got fucked up to begin with. "Fuck off fuck boy, I'm not in the mood." He grumbled, finally reaching for the knife tucked against his hip he couldn't reach before with his shoulder out of socket. The demon laughed when he threw it at him but he let the weapon stick in his shoulder. That more than anything told Dom he wasn't dealing with a normal monster, that knife should have affected him somehow but it just looked… normal. The guy didn't even bleed much.

The demon sighed and stood up, pulling the knife free of his arm and wiping the blood off on his middle finger. He stepped closer to the boy and smiled down at him before he rubbed the crimson across his inhumanly plush lips. For a human he was magically pretty and even under all the blood and viscera of his fellow demons the kid smelled… heavenly. But he was barely breathing with the monster so close. Just to show off he stabbed the knife into the wall next to the Hunter's head. "I'll let you sleep on it. If you need me just call my name." He hummed, pushing against Dom's bottom lip until it was turned in against his tongue. "Lick." When the boy shook his head he arched a brow and rolled his eyes and finally stepped away.

Dom tried to spit the blood out as the demon left his bathroom but he was sure at least one drop made it down his throat. "Wait- you didn't tell me ya name!" He huffed, turning around and smacking straight into the monster's chest.

"I wanted to see if you'd come after me." The demon smiled, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. He looked like the cat who caught the canary and Dom hopped he wouldn't pluck out all his feathers. "You can call me Kells."

"Kells?"

Kells shivered at the sound and leaned closer as if he would kiss the boy but at the last moment he vanished. Just fucking vanished leaving Dom to wonder if he was real at all. As he turned back to his bathroom and heard his shower start to run he accidentally licked his lips and knew the truth. Not only did he have a demon watching over him, it was a powerful one. Maybe as powerful as the one he'd spent almost a decade hunting. He just couldn't figure out if that was a good thing, or if he was getting into trouble he couldn't begin to understand. Probably the latter, he was good at landing in that.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 🖤 if you want tagged let me know!

I know I have too many fics going at once but if you haven't caught on I have ADHD and I'm on the spectrum and if I try to make myself write something but I'm not feeling it? It just doesn't work. As you've also seen, I get randomly inspired to work on old fics so it will happen even if it's a bit but I hope it's sooner rather than later. I've been watching Supernatural lately and it's another of my old hyperfixations so this popped into my head. I hope you enjoy! If you like it I might add more ⚰️🖤🔗

#yungblud #dominic harrison #dom harrison #machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #dom and colson #dom and colson fic #dom x colson #dom x colson fic #yungblud and machine gun kelly #yungblud and machine gun kelly fic #yungblud x machine gun kelly #yungblud x machine gun kelly fic #com #com fics #domson #domson fics #my fics #jinx fics #possible abo #spn inspired #drug use #blood

[materialsscienceandengineering]

A special carbon molecule can function as multiple high-speed switches at once

For the first time, an international team of researchers, including those from the University of Tokyo's Institute for Solid State Physics, has demonstrated a switch, analogous to a transistor, made from a single molecule called fullerene.

By using a carefully tuned laser pulse, the researchers are able to use fullerene to switch the path of an incoming electron in a predictable way. This switching process can be three to six orders of magnitude faster than switches in microchips, depending on the laser pulses used. Fullerene switches in a network could produce a computer beyond what is possible with electronic transistors, and they could also lead to unprecedented levels of resolution in microscopic imaging devices.

More than 70 years ago, physicists discovered that molecules emit electrons in the presence of electric fields, and later on, in certain wavelengths of light. The electron emissions created patterns that enticed curiosity but eluded explanation. This has changed thanks to a new theoretical analysis, the ramification of which could not only lead to new high-tech applications, but also improve our ability to scrutinize the physical world itself.

Read more.

#Materials Science #Science #Carbon #Molecules #Fullerene #Electronics #University of Tokyo

[noxwithoutstars]

How do you create the color palettes for your flags?

It depends on the term! I also usually start with the layout of the flag, like stripes and shapes, before I do colors, so I have to think about where the colors go and which ones I'll have the most of.

For things that are related to some media, I usually colorpick for a general palette, then adjust/switch colors/etc. until I like how it looks:

Sensitivesongic: almost completely colorpicked from the album art -- Celestiaresortic: colors similar to the background of this level in the game -- Areaxlibric: less saturated colors from the book covers.

If there are colors already associated with some aspects of the term, I start with those and build from there. Different colors also add to the feel of the term!

Regifructorcic: Inspired by Hera/Juno, whatever you want to call her, and therefore colors reminiscent of pomegranates and peacocks -- Twilitstar: Blues/purples suggest stars and twilight, browns suggest bronze and make it feel more ancient -- Orderaromic: Dark suggests nighttime, and the pale pinks make it warmer, more familiar.

Otherwise, it's honestly just vibes. Or what colors I want to work with that moment. When I'm stuck, I just pick a main color or two and think about the complementary colors or analogous colors, then mess with the values (light-dark; always try to have variation in the values) or maybe the saturation (the greyness/vibrancy -- changing the saturation creates a similar but different effect to value).

Aurimellan: The saturation doesn't change mostly, but hue and value do -- Salicrystic: There's a shift in value and saturation together but not hue -- Midnightsunphraseic: Change in all three!

#I hope this was helpful #asks #flag making #tutorial

[lilaeleaf]

I love your art so much! Do you have any of your brushes for sale, or any tutorials, especially on colour?

Hi!! Thank you so much! 💕

Honestly, my go-to brushes are all procreate brushes with slight adjustments (like stabilization, etc.) my personal preference is brushes that kind of mimic graphite pencils. The best thing you can do is find a brush that suits you & get very comfortable using it! Specific brushes won’t necessarily improve your work, it’s all about practice! (But yes, a nice brush does help!)

I do have a video on my favourite brushes:

I’ve never really made any tutorials, but I’m happy to try and relay what I know and what I’ve learned so far!

Colours are a big part of illustration! I could probably ramble on for hours, honestly—in any case, it’s always helpful to know fundamentals of colour theory. Once you learn and apply it, it becomes intuitive! I’m gonna stick to RGB colours because CMYK is it’s own thing (printing!)

There’s a handful of basic terms like hue (pure colours), shade (adding black to a colour), tint (adding white to a colour), tone (adding gray to a colour) and also opacity (transparency) that help us understand and define the complexity of colours.

My colour choices are more often than not a gut feeling—but that does come from practice! There’s loads of colour palettes available online like this one, but if you wanna come up with your own, there’s some neat ways to do that using a colour wheel! Colours can broken down into primary, secondary and tertiary colours. We can also categorize them as warm or cold. With this we can make colour schemes!

Some basic schemes!

Complimentary: two colours, opposites on the colour wheel

Analogous: three colours side-by-side

Triadic: three colours that form a triangle, evenly spaced

Monochromatic: using one colour (using different shades)

(Bonus) Monochromatic with accent colour : using one colour as a foundation and having an accent colour (similar to analogous, but one colour is used for a majority of the piece while the accent colour is used sparingly)

It’s also important to keep in mind that values (a colour’s range from dark to light) will look different on different colours. Sometimes, you’ll put two colours together and think “huh, something about this feels off” and it turns out, the colours just happen to be very close in value and melt together. Switching your piece to grayscale just to check on your values every so often can help with contrast and muddiness! A light tone on a darker tone will look brighter than it really is. Colours can also influence each other and trick your eyes.

Environment is also a big part of choosing your colours for a piece. Determining what the setting is important! A sunset will make a drawing warmer, while a scene set in the night will usually have colder tones. Using only local colours (true colours, like green grass or blue sky) vs non-local colours (atmospheric perspective, accent colors that give depth, etc) can help enhance your drawing too. Don't be afraid of artistic interpretation!

Also, there’s always the option to use gradient maps (at least on procreate & photoshop but I’m sure it’s available in csp and other programs) where you draw in grayscale & apply a gradient map. The gradient map basically applies a color to every value (e.g all the shadows become blue and the highlights become orange) it can look really nice (and help out if colours just aren’t working that day yk)

Another thing, when I’m drawing (and this is specific to me!) I tend to start with pretty desaturated colours. Once my illustration is done, I’ll duplicate & merge my layers to do colour edits. Most programs give you the option to play with curves or colour balance—menus that allow you to play around with the hue of the shadows, midtones and highlights. I tend to make my shadows more cyan-blue, my midtones a little warmer and my highlights warmer as well. Of course, this depends on the mood of the piece, whether it’s warm or cold, lighter or darker, etc!

You can always make adjustment layers on top of your work; a low opacity yellow, magenta or blue (or anything your heart desires) overlay to tie all the colours together.

I hope this helps a bit!! Happy to answer more questions to the best of my knowledge :^)

#askleaf #anon ask #art tutorial #color theory #digital art #illustration #brushes #long post #artandstuff

[faytalepsy]

Hi Fay! I was admiring some of your drawings yesterday and this little thing popped into my head 😊 i'm a great fan of your work (not just your drawings but your fics too) so i thought i'd share how they inspire me. It's not much but since it's the first time i write anything at all i'm trying to not be too hard on myself (apologies for any mistakes and formatting, english is not my first language)

you're a gift to this fandom ❤💫

Farah had never bothered to learn how to play chess; truth be told she didn't have the patience for it nor did she care much about strategy (luckily for her and the rest of the batallion, Saul had a natural talent for it).

At first, Rosalind had tried to encourage her to learn by using analogies (that Farah barely understood) and explaining pieces and rules and tactics and other things that Farah didn't pay much attention to. At the end of the day she couldn't remember any of it but to her relief (and surprise) her mentor didn't press it. So Farah never learnt.

Sometimes she felt guilty about it but why should she waste time with that? Her strength was her magic. She was training to become a soldier, to fight in the war. All she had to do was follow Rosalind, she'd train her and lead her into battle. She'd lead all of them to victory.

When she was young Farah used to try to work out which chess piece each member of the batallion represented, even though she only had a vague idea of their value and how they moved: were the specialists meant to be the pawns? Rosalind probably thought so, but surely Saul and Andreas were worth more than an average pawn... and what about the fairies? Would Rosalind consider the less powerful ones in the same regard as the specialists? A fairy like Ben had to be a rook at the very least; he might even become a knight or a bishop one day.

As for the king, Farah decided early on that it represented the inhabitants of the Otherworld. The queen was the most powerful piece in the board which meant it could only be Rosalind. So what was Farah supposed to be?

When she was feeling confident, Farah even dared consider herself as the queen, which left Rosalind in the place of the king. It made sense, she'd tell herself, her mentor didn't take much part in the actual fighting anymore but she remained the most important member of their army. She was the head, their leader, the only piece they couldn't afford to lose.

How stupid she'd been. How blind and ignorant. Pawns and rooks and knights, even the king and queen, they were all just pieces in a game. Rosalind had been the player all along.

Hi my wonderful amazing anon!! I'm incredibly sorry it took me this long to respond but I wanted to do it right and not just type a quick answer crammed in between lectures or other assignments!

First, thank you so so much for your message. I am truly honoured that you shared this with me and everytime I hear one of my works inspires people I could jump with joy! I feel like inspiring others is one of the most beautiful things art can do and it doesn't happen often to me that I'm on the inspiring end!💕

And of course I'm also beyond happy you like ny drawings and fics, thank you for the support!!!💕

As a chess lover (although quite the amateur I fear) I always love chess analogies!! But I have to admit I found it hard to apply them to fate characters because in my mind they only work for specific situations because everyone switches places in my head depending on situation and relationship. That's why I love love love how you had Farah deliberating the pieces and her place on the board from her perspective as a soldier in the war! And the king as the inhabitants of the otherworld would make so much sense! But also Farah deliberating both herself and Rosalind as Queen, comparing how she would measure up to her mentor just to realise that Rosalind was the player all along because she absolutely was.

Again you so much for sharing this and I hope you write more whenever inspiration hits!!

Also can I just say that this message made me happy everytime I opened my inbox for the past week?? because it absolutely has been brightening my day!💕

#fate the winx saga #farah dowling #anon #anon ask #ftws

[random-thought-depository]

Also, bearfolk history idea:

Around maybe 20-30,000 years ago, the lifestyle of some bearfolk groups was transformed and greatly improved by two innovations:

1) They managed to domesticate a smaller "grassland" herbivore that coexisted with the big grazers. This gave them a rough equivalent to horses, and made bearfolk cavalry possible!

2) They finally managed to invent projectile weapons they could use effectively against the big grazers; large arrows and very powerful bows comparable to or even more powerful than the famous Medieval English longbow (bearfolk are way stronger than humans, so they could handle monster bows with huge draw weights a lot more easily than us).

Cue switch from attacking on foot with stabbing spears to "horse" archery as their primary technique for hunting the big grazers!

Depending on which order they got these inventions in there might have been a long period of making cavalry attacks against the big grazers with lances instead, but even that would have been a big step up from attacking on foot, and they did eventually invent bows and "horse" archery (even after the invention of bows, lances may often have been used in hunting in combination with them).

Note, horses are an obvious analogy here, but:

In terms of its place in their bearfolk history, this was kind of more analogous to dog domestication than horse domestication; it way preceded agriculture and might have been the bearfolk's first such relationship with a nonhuman animal (and as such, it might have happened more on the other animal's terms than most later domestications).

Considering how heavy bearfolk probably are, I think these horse-equivalents were a lot bigger than horses, more like bison.

Cavalry and bows and arrows enabled the bearfolk to take down the big grazers much more efficiently and with much less risk to themselves. This meant a lot more bearfolk got to live to old age, and their food supply increased.

The result was the development of a society of relatively large and sophisticated nomad "kingdoms," comparable to the Medieval Eurasian steppe and eighteenth/nineteenth century North American Great Plains societies (the Great Plains horse-riding bison-hunters are a much better analogy in terms of food acquisition methods, though with the bearfolk it was more like bison cavalry with English longbows vs. elephant-size anklyosaurs).

These nomad "kingdoms" were limited to areas favorable to cavalry where the big grazers roamed, i.e. to grasslands and savannas. Bearfolk social groups in other regions stayed smaller and organizationally simpler. For maybe as long as 10-20,000 years these nomad "kingdoms" were arguably the most sophisticated bearfolk societies (some fishing-oriented coastal societies may have rivaled them in social unit size, economic surplus, etc.). I have a tentative idea that they may have invented writing, so the bearfolk equivalent of Gilgamesh is, like, some chronicle of nomad "kingdom" political intrigue written at around the time Earth was going through its last glacial maximum, but I don't know how plausible that is as writing is probably going to have limited usefulness to a nomadic society with political units that probably never got big enough to generate a lot of need for bureaucracy (maybe it could start as a way for scouts to send messages to larger hunting parties following them by writing them on rock faces and the like?).

Unfortunately, despite their strong start these nomad "kingdoms" were limited by their reliance on hunting; it meant they couldn't support very dense populations and they had to move around a lot and had limited capacity to do things like maintain extensive libraries. As a result, the nomad "kingdoms" ultimately stagnated. Meanwhile, in other parts of the planet, other bearfolk groups developed plant cultivation agriculture, and the agricultural societies eventually surpassed the nomad hunter "kingdoms" in organizational complexity, technological sophistication, and wealth, as the agricultural mode of production ultimately had more potential.

#bearfolk #my main SF setting

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

I understand of course that there's no artistic shortcuts, and that the only way to learn to do a thing is to practice it a bunch.

But man, every time I see your art on my dash, some part of my wishes I could flip a switch and just mimic that style in one go. How long does it generally take you to do any of your random sketches? And do you have any advice for nailing the sort of. Casual dynamic style you do so well.

Most sketches of just a pose and a half take me anywhere from 25 minutes to an hour, mostly depending on both how detailed the character is, and how ambitious/inspired I'm feeling to draw them.

It's as you said, hard to recommend anything other than "practice", but I detailed my study regimen here. Something I hear is useful but don't do myself is straight up tracing sketches of other artists (for your eyes only, don't go posting them and making claims), mainly to learn and improve your own muscle memory and "get in their head". I've only done that very sporadically as inking practice. That's not me saying it isn't a good idea, I just haven't built up the habit. Feel free to do that with my own work, by the way!

Either way, my "casual dynamic style" comes from honing my eye and muscle memory to the point where I can draw poses more efficiently and visualize them, which my daily study regimen helped me hone. When you "get" to where I am, you'll find that there's only more to learn, though. Think of speedrunners; someone being better than even 90% of players looks impressive, but once you hone your skill to that point, you'll realize there's 10 times as much distance between you and the guy that's better than 93% of players. People who shoot for world records, being the best of the best, wind up making thousands more attempts than others lower on the ladder ever will.

The biggest takeaway is that you shouldn't be expecting yourself to be all that satisfied at any point, IF you aren't drawing something you enjoy. DALL-E 2 images look impressive and even incredible, but after a while the novelty begins to wear off. Training your neural pathways to make better and better art works the same way; you actually dampen your ability to get a dopamine hit off of good art alone, so you try to make it better, and eventually you grow only somewhat satisfied with your new normal. You need to draw stuff that actually makes you happy. That's the sort of thing that will fuel your journey for real. It's why art quality seems to not really matter all that much on social media, as it's work that the viewer and artist relates with that often winds up getting any traction. It's not a great analogy as all art has inherent value, but some kinds of art is definitely more motivating to draw and engage with than other kinds.

It's also why I draw stupid shit all the time. I get more of a dopamine hit drawing stupid shit that scratches an itch. Maybe your thing is cats. Shipping characters. Trains. Buildings. Find something you can't easily get tired of drawing, and study it as often as you can. Not too much to burn you out, but enough that you don't mind taking the challenge again and again. Don't rush it, just study a small amount at regular intervals. It's as David Karp once said: It doesn't matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.

#littlestartemis #FAQ

[themask-maker]

Thinking more on the Musicka-Magicka system and I’m wondering. If an electronic appliance analogy can be drawn here, with spiritual/natural energies as the Electricity, Conduits as Appliances, and then effects, what’s the Wire and Switch then in Magic? Plus noticed how Musicka declined in comparison to Magicka in the timeline, any ideas for that?

I think I'm understanding what you're saying, but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong or not actually answering your question!

If the energy was electricity and the conduit the appliance, both the wires and switch would be the verbal/somatic/written components of the spell itself. Their roles within this area may change depending on the type of spell.

For example, in a Mirage mask, the wires would be the words written on the inside of the mask, and the switch would be the activation/deactivation portion said aloud. Think of it like a line of code:

<html><Various html body regarding what you want this page to look like></html>

⬇️

<With tricks unfurled | And mask embraced | I bend the world | To hide my face><Various spellwork regarding what you what it to look like - this part is unspoken and begins to "run" when you tell the code to do so></With ache of shame | For tongue of lies | I face the world - Forsake my guise>

As for the decline of Musicka, my general idea is that it's seen more and more as a divine power associated with gods. So maybe culture shifts to restrict its use to specific people and the Royal Family, whereas Magicka wouldn't have the same holy cultural meaning overall (except Malice, which would def have the "oh thats black magic" label due to Demise and Ganon incarnations).

When you get items I've assigned as "Musicka conduits" in the games, they tend to be sacred relics associated with divinity. Then, even in timelines where Royal Family influence fades or they stop using those devices for whatever reason, people have still sort of lost the structured knowledge of how those spells work. Other uncommon, later instances which I would assign as Musicka spells would be like: Twilight Princess howl-stones to contact the Hero of Time; the Stable Trotters of TotK "summoning" the Great Fairies with specific instruments. In later instances like TotK, or instances where there's no special macguffin involved like TP, I imagine some people would still have the affinity for it and cause rough, basic Musicka to occur without knowing the name of the thing occuring. Ex: Ordonians using grass-whistles to summon wildlife.

I haven't made structured "spellbook" posts about the categories of Musicka spells, but they'll come in the future.

Thank you for your ask! I hope my rambles make sense.

#answered ask #demon tribes au #loz #zelda headcanons #legend of zelda #magic system #loz au #loz lore #lore #musicka & magicka

[emi-nova-music]

—*♪,» WELCOME ONE AND ALL ——•°.

hiii! i’m a 19yo college kid making magic however i can! i’m non-binary (they/nova pronouns), queer, neurodivergent, and i adore my strangely specific process and unique set of influences that lead to some cool ass shit! when i’m not jamming, i’m drawing, designing characters, building websites, and playing games 🫶 don’t hesitate to reach out

my main blog is @emerystellar as a general hub for all my creative stuff, and my crazy tumblr hermit spam all goes on @emery-reblogs !

—*♪,» LINKS ——•°.

Spotify || Bandcamp || Youtube || Apple Music

music carrd !! — main website !!

—*♪,» GENRE/INFLUENCES ——•°.

i’m pretty broad and experimental so it’s hard to narrow myself down, but i’d say i fall somewhere between jangle pop, psychedelic rock, shoegaze, and indie jazz! some of my biggest influences are louie zong, mild high club, miracle musical, vince guaraldi, toby fox, koji kondo, the avalanches, and temporex :]

for extra reference, here’s my giant playlist of all the music i listen to, and a really big list of weirdly specific genres i like! you can also ask me about influences/inspirations for certain songs, associations you make, Anything, i’d love to hear and conversate about it!

—*♪,» RIGHTS AND USAGE ——•°.

feel free to use my music in any personal projects, youtube videos, animations, character playlists, anything, as long as you do two things:

1. credit me however applicable (link to the song, my website/bandcamp, just listing the song title and artist name, etc)

2. show me what you made!! i absolutely ADORE interacting with the creative works others make and i wanna see what ways you use my creations!! 🩵

the only other thing of note is that if you want to remix/make a cover of my song, keep it non-monetary (i.e. keep it to soundcloud and/or youtube)!

addendum that i’m not great at transcription but if you need stems of any songs/sheet music/garageband soundfont titles, etc, i’ll do my very very best to provide!

i’m very very open to collabs, but i am extremely bad with deadlines “- forcing inspiration never really works for me, but if you’re okay with my weird process and want to hmu, please do so!!

—*♪,» GENERAL FAQ ——•°.

• i use garageband on my phone to write most of the time (sometimes bandlab or acoustic instruments, usually various pianos or organs)

• i use distrokid for platform distribution and i seriously recommend it it’s ridiculously easy and super cheap too

• my process is usually pretty linear, starting with a melodic idea and moving from start to finish with the song, then going back and buffing it out making it meatier and tweaking things as i see fit! then i’ll usually adjust the pitch/speed at the end simply bc the analog sound is a lot more pleasing garageband can get a little sterile after listening to it for so long :]

• writing a single song will usually take me anywhere from 2-6 hours depending on the complexity, spanning however many days (i have drafts that have been sitting in my phone for MONTHS bc i’ll often switch between them so none of them get too stale) -> however, some of my live songs work a little differently, seeing as a lot of them (especially on what never left the nebula) are actually almost completely improvised… you'll never guess which ones >:)

• i’ve been playing piano and singing since i was a toddler, but i started formally making music and being serious about it in 2017! i’ve come a long long long way, don’t look for my old soundcloud /hj

—*♪,» THANK YOU!!! ——•°.

if you’ve got any other curiosities or comments please don’t hesitate to send an ask!! i love when ppl engage with my music so please please by all means feel free to :] thank you so much for sticking around this long and have a stellar day!!!

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