#it’s my first digital portrait too....

[anakindoodles]

Half Light

Alternate colour palettes bc I couldn't decide which one i liked better

#sw #star wars #my art #digital art #artists on tumblr #anakin art #anakin skywalker #darth vader #revenge of the sith #sw prequels #limited palette #screencap redraw #half light #hayden christensen #idk i did this one really rushed and didnt like it so i redid the palette and only marginally like it better #and then i kept forgetting to post it #but idk i felt weird posting my self portrait on here so im posting this instead #also technically this comes first in the time line of things #self portait was just too intimate for a tumblr i try to remain anonymous on #i also wanted to do a meet the artist but tumblr said file too big #so :( #also 15 followers until my next 100 eeee

[cheesecake801]

GREETINGS EVERYONE ! I'm Cheesecake, I loooove drawing and I've came upon this land to share my art with you all ! (my art is tagged with #cheesecake801art btw) What kind of art am I going to share you might ask...Well for now... SUBMAS ART !

What ? You don't know what submas is ? (which is kind of unlikely because...how else would you find this post ?? but anyways) It's simple ! It's short for Subway Masters !! Which refers to the subway bosses Ingo and Emmet from Pokemon Black and White. AND I'M OBSESSED WITH THEM HAHA ! I hope you will enjoy the art I make of these guys, I'll do my best to make good stuff so please look forward to it !!

I used to post my art on Instagram but the submas fandom seem more active here ! YOU SUBMAS FAN MAKE SOME GREAT STUFF, IT'S SO AMAZING !! You are literally the reason I came to Tumblr, thanks for existing ;v;

So yeah, I wanna contribute. I'm a bit late but... I wanna be PART OF ALL THIS !!

I'LL DO MY BEST ^w^

#submas #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #first post #pokemon #digital art #artists on tumblr #self portrait #cute art #I'm a total newbie at Tumblr tagging but I've seen people talk a lot in tags #which is funny as hell to me so I'll do the same #am i doing this right? #can't wait to show you my stuff #I wonder how much is too much tags #cheesecake801art

[kyuziipon]

Wanted to draw my outfit from today

ID:[a digital drawing of op, a small feminine teenager wearing their dark hair in braids, with a beanie, mask, a patchwork primary colored jacket, a matching skirt, and big boots.] /End ID

#too lazy to write a better id after the first post got eaten by tumblr #my art #digital art #self portrait

[attaboy-art]

HENRY

HENRY

[Image ID: a digital drawing of henry ledore in front of a partly cloudy sky while wind blows blades of grass around him. he has long hair which is tied back into a ponytail by a red bow, and he is wearing a green and white striped button-up that exposes his chest hair, and a dark teal pleated maxi skirt. his hands are resting on his thighs, holding his skirt down, and he is smiling. /.End ID.]

#i liked coloring this fank yew #still getting used to these new brushes... discovered that the one i used to line my last al piece works better as a coloring brush #Oh Henry. I wish you were characterized better by Level-5 and the internet #this piece was a tad difficult to figure out at first ill admit... i tried many different poses n outfits before landing on this one #the main idea was Henry's Day Off. one first draft included henry taking a cat nap in some cute pajamas #another was a classical inspired portrait... but i have done. one too many. of those in my lifetime #but anyways. I LIKE THIS! #art #fanart #illustration #henry ledore #professor layton #miracle mask #digital art

[ohbuggy]

Somewhat old various self portraits

Could be a master post of all the forms I have consistently used if for short period of time

#digital art #my sona #alien #I do not keep a consistent form #I like to be different like all the time!!! I cannot be contained to one mortal prison! #first one is my current go to look #second to last you can call a baby photo #last one is a realistic self portrait I did to boost my confidence I think #I forgot the reason for the realistic self portrait #wouldn’t say I use that form today though #someone described this as god kinning and no #I’m too old to understand what that means but I’m pretty sure that’s not it #I think I’m just mentally unwell lol

[esseastri]

All right, fronds, considering this is my VERY FIRST TIME drawing a person in a digital art program and considering that I’m Not Very Good at drawing people non-digitally,,, I am pretty dang proud of this???

Anyway, here’s a Not Terrible Portrait of Vekori, my main, favorite PC for our homebrew space ttrpg.

#op #i makes stuff #art #digital art #ttrpg #WHY DID I DECIDE TO DO A PORTRAIT FOR MY VERY THING DRAWING WITH MY VERY FIRST TABLET?? because I'm a masochist obviously #I'll look at this tomorrow and be HORRIFIED by it I'm SURE #but in the meantime: ART! #where's that post about the good artists having this Terrible At Art Phase at the beginning of their art too? I need that. #I'm gonna practice so good you guys.... I'm gonna... I'm gonna GET GUD

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Stuck On You

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dark themes, slut shaming, obsessive behaviour, smut.

Word count: ~6k

Summary: When her email is hacked and racy photos she'd sent to her boyfriend find their way onto Myspace, she becomes the social pariah of Oxford University. She turns to the only person she believes is intelligent enough to be able to help; Michael Gavey. Could uncovering the truth of the situation make things worse than they already are?

Author's note: Written to celebrate one year of my blog existing. Sorry for the delay. Crumbageddon beat the shit out of me. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“Using a painting of that former duchess as a conversation piece, he describes what he saw as her unfaithfulness, frivolity, and stubbornness, and implies that he prefers her as a painting rather than as a…as a living woman,” her voice shakes, stumbling over her words, watching as her essay papers slip from her hands, fluttering towards the rug of the study.

“Sh-shit…I’m sorry,” she stammers, leaning down to snatch them back up, feeling her skin heat up with embarrassment as she attempts to rustle them back into order.

“Everything alright?” Professor Ware asks, shifting in his seat and clasping his hands in his lap.

“Distracted by her own portrait, I should imagine,” snarks Farleigh, cutting her off before she has a chance to reply. 

He smirks up at her, before returning his focus to the screen of his Macbook, fingers tapping quickly across the keys as he sits on the floor with it in his lap, leaning back against the armchair she currently sits in, his legs crossed at the ankle.

Of course he’d left it until the last minute to do his essay. Lazy prick.

“Stop it,” she hisses, knocking his shoulder with her knee.

“Why? It’s up again already anyway,” he retorts with a casual shrug, not bothering to look at her this time.

Her blood runs ice cold, dread gnawing a pit in her stomach. That would be the fourth time this week.

“Where?!” She demands, leaning down to snatch Farleigh’s Macbook from him, ignoring his protestation of “hey!” as she clicks on the minimised Internet Explorer window to see her Myspace profile already open.

Just as he’d said, there she is. Her profile picture depicts her in a lacy two piece lingerie set, laying on her bed, her cleavage, stomach and thighs on full display. She’d thought the angle flattering when she’d first held the digital camera above herself and snapped the picture, but now it’s splashed all over the internet for everyone to see. It makes her feel sick.

“I have to go,” she says hurriedly, shoving Farleigh’s Macbook back into his lap and stuffing her essay papers into her bag.

She almost trips over Farleigh’s long legs in her rush to escape the tutorial room, the air suddenly feeling too thick and difficult to breathe, as her heart hammers in her chest. Her feet carry her down the hallway in quick strides, no particular direction in mind, just eager to get away.

It had all seemed like innocent fun at first. She had felt excited on the second day of Fresher’s Week when a group of girls from the floor of her accommodation had invited her to go shopping with them

They had wrinkled their noses as she had beelined for the Ann Summers in Westgate Shopping Centre, lured by the big, red sale banner in the window.

“Oh darling,” India had cooed, “don’t buy that rubbish. We’ll get the train into London and take you to Rigby and Peller in Mayfair, if it’s lingerie you’re after.”

She had balked inwardly at the thought of how expensive that would be, but had simply smiled politely, stating “this is fine”, more than happy with the matching black lace set she’d picked from the sale rail.

Back in her room, she’d tried it on, loving the way the material hugged her curves and felt against her skin. Excitedly, she’d dug out her digital camera, contorting herself into various poses that she felt best displayed her assets, until she was satisfied she had several that looked good.

She hadn’t seen her boyfriend, Jake, since she had left for Oxford and he had gone to Brighton. Their reading weeks didn’t align, which meant they’d have to wait until the term came to an end to see each other at Christmas.

Emailing him the photos had felt like a nice way for them to maintain some sort of intimacy, despite the distance, and he’d certainly appreciated it, as a couple of hours later she’d gotten a text from him which simply said “wow!”

The high from that had left her with a smile on her face for days, until she’d stepped out of a tutorial a few days later to see a missed call and a text from him.

“What the fuck are you playing at?!” It had read.

She’d called him back straight away, the urge to vomit growing acrid in her throat as he’d told her what he’d seen, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, she’d scrambled with shaking hands to free her laptop from her bag, to confirm what Jake was saying.

There it was. Her Myspace profile picture had been changed to one of the lingerie photos she’d sent to him. This one was a full length photo she’d taken, aiming the camera at the mirror in her room.

The hot prickle of tears had burned beneath her eyelids, as she’d drawn in a shaky breath. “Wh-why would you do that?” She’d whispered tearfully into the phone.

“It wasn’t me!” Jake had snapped angrily. “Perhaps if you hadn't taken those bloody photos in the first place then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Are you seriously blaming me?!”

“It just looks bad. I think maybe we should cool things for a bit, I can’t with be someone that—”

Tears had rolled down her cheeks as she’d pulled the phone away from her ear, seeing the call had cut off. She’d run out of credit. In a way, she was grateful; she didn’t want to listen to Jake ending their relationship, to continue to blame her for something that wasn’t her fault.

She had taken the photo down, changed her profile picture back to what it was before, and changed the password for both Myspace and her email. However, the damage was done, the whispers of “slut” as she walked to lectures had already started.

Another two days later she had entered the IT lab to print out her essay, and saw a group huddled around a computer, laughing together. They had turned, immediately quietening down, their voices hushed whispers as they looked at her. 

She had pushed them apart, already knowing what it was they were all looking at, but wanting to confirm it. Just as she’d suspected, her Myspace profile was open. This time her photo had been changed to an over the shoulder shot. The side of her face and her buttocks visible as she’d arched her back.

Running back to her room, tears of humiliation blurring her vision, she’d taken the photo down again and changed all her passwords. But once again, it was too little, too late. A print out of the photo slipped beneath her door that same day, with the word “whore” scrawled across it.

Her friends were already starting to pull away, the invites to the pub had dried up into nothing. When another photo had been uploaded, Felix had pulled her to one side.

“Look, I think it’s incredibly daring of you to be doing what you’re doing, and I respect the fuck out of you for it, really I do,” he’d said, eyes filled with sympathy as he’d looked down at her. “But a few of us really aren’t comfortable with how you’re going about…getting attention, so I just think it’s for the best if we take some space until you’ve figured out whatever this is.”

She had been stunned by his words, her eyes going wide as her mouth had dropped open. “You think I’m doing this to myself?!”

“Well, what else are we supposed to think? We’re worried about you. There are better…healthier ways to make yourself stand out. Just come clean and all of this can stop.”

Turning away in disgust, anger and betrayal flaring white hot in her chest, she’d walked away. This was happening to her, she wasn’t complicit in it, and yet people continued to act like it was her fault. She had started to wonder if she really was to blame. Had she tempted fate by taking those photos in the first place?

Today was the fourth time a photo had been uploaded and having fled from the tutorial with Professor Ware and Farleigh, she finds herself in the Bodleian Library, having walked on instinct. 

It serves as a quiet refuge for her in moments when she feels overwhelmed, hiding among the shelves, admiring tomes that are older than she is. She’d come here on her first day, when the influx of new people, sights and sounds had become too much, and she had crouched between the stacks the first time one of her photos had been leaked. The smell of old books and the peace and quiet feels safe.

Walking silently between the study tables she spots him, alone, as he always is; Michael Gavey. He is hunched over a notebook, scribbling furious notes, stopping occasionally to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

She had thoroughly embarrassed herself the first time she’d met him, the only time she had ever spoken to him. It had been the night of the fresher’s welcome dinner. She’d heard his outburst in the dining hall, heard how he had answered the subsequent multiplication sum flawlessly and been bowled over by how effortlessly brilliant he was. It was intimidating.

Yet, later that evening fuelled by the courage of five tropical watermelon flavoured Bacardi Breezers, she’d stumbled over to him in the rec room, ignoring how he’d recoiled slightly at her advancing towards him.

She’d wrapped an arm around his neck, taking no notice of the way he’d stiffened beneath her touch.

“Wha’s nine hundred and ninety nine divided by thirteen?” She’d slurred into his ear.

He had bristled slightly, before answering quietly. “Seventy six point eight five.”

She had giggled, patting his cheek, knocking his glasses askew. “Don’t even know how to check that, but I’ll take your word for it, genius.” 

Kissing his cheek, she’d stumbled away, leaving him to wipe away the sticky residue her lips had left behind, while Felix and Farleigh had fallen about themselves, laughing, finding it far funnier than she’d intended for it to be. She had ended up making him a laughing stock without even meaning to.

The memory fills her with shame. She really did find him impressive. He was precisely the type of person she had wanted to rub shoulders with when she arrived at Oxford, yet she had made a fool of herself instead.

She smiled at him whenever she caught his eye on the rare occasions they crossed paths, but he’d either look away or stare at her expressionless.

Perhaps now was her opportunity to make amends. She has no friends now anyway, so it’s not as though she has anything to lose.

Walking over to his table, before she has a chance to talk herself out of it, she sits down heavily in the seat next to him, depositing her bag onto the tabletop.

Michael’s pen pauses its movements, and slowly his head turns to the side, narrowing his eyes at her in silent question.

She suddenly has the urge to run, realising this was a terrible idea. She feels enormous discomfort beneath the scrutiny of his gaze yet, determined to push through it, she offers him a bright smile.

“You’re Michael, aren’t you?” She says, attempting to sound more cheerful than she feels.

“Yes,” he replies simply, placing his pen down and straightening in his seat.

“Thought so. I’m–”

“I know who you are,” he cuts her off. “What do you want?”

“Oh,” she swallows, shifting awkwardly in her seat. She hadn’t anticipated him being quite so blunt. “Well, I wanted to apologise for how I behaved on the first night. I thought maybe we could be friends?”

He scoffs, the corners of his mouth turning up into the faintest of smirks. “As if I’d be friends with someone who’s reading literature. Why pay all that money in tuition fees for a glorified book club?”

For a moment she doesn’t know what to say. Shock, offense and hurt swirl in a hot mixture in her chest. She fights the embarrassing urge to burst into tears. Her voice is small and weak when she finally asks “How do you know what I’m studying?”

Michael nods towards the desk. “There’s a book of Robert Browning poetry sticking out of your bag.”

“Right, yeah…” She feels her skin heat up, turning to slowly tuck the book further down inside, still able to feel his eyes upon her. It’s disconcerting to be observed so closely.

“Where’s that group of losers you usually hang around with anyway?”

The question takes her by surprise, and she laughs softly, though there is no real humour to it. “I don’t think they want to hang around with me anymore.”

“So you’re a Norman no mates too then?”

His expression has softened, a slight playfulness brightens his blue eyes as she looks back at him, and she can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

He leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin up on his hand. “Hmmm. So they got bored of you then?”

“No…I–”

She sighs exasperatedly, running a hand through her hair, before digging through her bag to pull out her laptop. “It’s probably easier if I show you.”

Setting the laptop down on the table, she loads her Myspace page, the same picture she’d seen on Farleigh’s Macbook earlier still set as her profile photo. “Someone keeps changing my profile picture to this. I sent my boyfriend…ex-boyfriend…some photos and now someone has them and keeps doing this every time I change it back.”

Michael’s expression is impassive as he stares at the screen. “Have you changed your passwords?”

“Yes,” she sighs.

“So, you’ve been hacked.”

“Looks that way…I don’t suppose you know anything about computers? Maybe you could help me figure out who’s doing this?”

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue, staring intently at her, “so there it is, pretending to befriend the college nerd because you need computer help. Do you not think it’s a bit of a tired stereotype to assume that because I’m reading maths I’d be able to help you with your IT issues?”

“No, it’s not like that!” She protests, her eyes welling up with tears. She turns away, defeated, deciding this is a lost cause and closes her laptop. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

He sighs. “Well, there’s no need to cry about it. I can help you, just not right now. Are you free later this evening?”

She sniffles, her eyes going wide as she looks at him in surprise. “Really?”

He nods, closing his notebook and slipping his pen into his breast pocket. “I’ve got a tutorial in twenty minutes, but I can help trace the IP of whoever’s hacked you. I’m on the first floor of the Brasenose, second room left of the staircase. I’ll be back around five.”

Nodding, she immediately feels lighter, the possibility that this may finally come to an end instantly lifting her spirits. A chance to get her life back. “That’s perfect, I’ll see you then. Thank you so much.”

He rises, his gaze remaining fixed upon her. “See you later.” 

The way he addresses her, first and last name, sends a shiver down her spine as she watches him turn away and walk slowly out of the library. She wonders what she has gotten herself into, but with no friends and no other options there is little else to be done.

She is filled with restless energy for the rest of the day, unable to sit still or concentrate during the only other lecture she has that afternoon, until eventually she finds herself standing outside of Michael’s room at quarter past five, the hours leading up to that feeling as though they’ve lasted an eternity.

Where there is the faint sound of music or talking coming from the doors she’s passed already on her way here, she is struck by the eerie silence she is met with from his, and wonders for a moment if he’s even home.

Nervous excitement crackles like electricity through her body and her knock is louder than she intends for it to be. She hears shuffling from the other side, until the door swings slowly open. Michael stands poker straight on the threshold, staring down at her.

“Did you bring your laptop?” He asks.

Yet again she is taken aback by how forthright he is, but she nods, stepping in as he moves to the side to let her pass.

Looking around the room, she takes in the plainness of his bedspread, the shelves of mathematics and physics textbooks, the desk set up in the corner that has his laptop open on it. There is nothing that gives even the slightest indication as to who he is as a person.

The sound of him clearing his throat startles her attention back to him, and she turns with an apologetic smile to face him. “Sorry, always weird being in someone else’s room…”

“Right,” he replies, his gaze unwavering as he looks at her. “Laptop?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” embarrassment heats up her skin, as she rummages in her bag, taking it out and handing it to him.

He settles it next to his own on the desk, before taking a seat.

She stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around, not quite knowing what to do with herself. “Um…where should I…?”

“Anywhere,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, not looking at her.

She settles on the edge of the bed, running her hands over the soft cotton of the duvet cover. It’s an odd sensation to sit so casually in the space that she knows he sleeps. It feels too familiar, too intimate.

Glancing to the side, she notices the shimmer of gold and purple in the bin. She smiles to herself, having learned something about him in spite of the lack of personal effects in his room. He has a sweet tooth, evidenced by the Crunchie bar wrappers in the bin.

“Password?” He asks, and her head snaps up towards him.

“Hmm?”

He turns in his chair, resting his arm on the back of it, glaring at her over his shoulder. “The password for your laptop, what is it?”

“Oh!” She exclaims. “Is it safe for me to tell you that?”

“It is if you want me to help you,” he sighs.

She squirms uncomfortably. He has the innate ability to make her feel small, foolish, but what’s most disconcerting is that she doesn’t dislike it, there is something about him that draws her to his condescension. 

“It’s Shakespeare,” she tells him sheepishly, “with a four in place of the first A.”

“What about the passwords for your email and Myspace accounts?”

“The same.”

“The same?!”

“I’ve changed the passwords each time a new photo has been posted, but it’s just easier to have the same one for everything.”

He groans, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “No wonder you’ve been hacked, typical fucking liberal arts student.”

She lowers her gaze, fingers plucking nervously at the bedspread. “Different passwords for every account, got it.”

“Well, that’s a start, yes,” he tells her, turning back to the screens. “Has anyone but you had access to your computer?”

“No, it stays in my bag when I’m not using it.”

She sits watching him tap away at the keyboards of both laptops alternately for a few moments before she speaks again. “I’m not stupid, you know,” she tells him, her voice sounding meeker than she means for it to. “English Language and Literature is no less of a respectable course than Mathematics. I wrote an essay on the Robert Browning poem, My Last Duchess, recently. It’s a fascinating piece, focusing on the Duke of Ferrara using a painting of his former wife as a conversation topic. The Duke speaks about his former wife's perceived inadequacies to a representative of the family of his bride-to-be, revealing his obsession with controlling others in the process. Browning uses this compelling psychological portrait of a despicable character to critique the objectification of women and abuses of power. It’s a compelling commentary on social status and elitism.”

“What would you know about either of those things?” He asks, continuing to type.

“More than I’d like to,” she says quietly, “I don’t fit in here, not really. I earned my place with a scholarship.”

He pauses, stiffening, glancing over his shoulder at her with a “hmm”.

“I’ve managed to get into the access logs for both your email and Myspace accounts,” he tells her. “There are two sets of IPs that have accessed both accounts in the last week, but both are eduroam IP addresses.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that whoever is uploading those photos is doing so from the university.”

The revelation hits her like a punch to the gut, she feels paralysed, unable to speak as his words sink in. A part of her had wanted to believe it was Jake. To think there is someone at the university who is doing this to her makes her feel nauseated. Her mind races with the possibilities of who it could be. Felix? India? Farleigh? What reason could any of them possibly have to want to do that to her?

“What should I do?” She asks worriedly, staring at Michael with her brows pinched together. “Do you think reporting it would help?”

He swivels his chair fully around to face her and shakes his head. “Not if you intend to keep your scholarship. Rocking the boat over leaked nudes won’t look good to the university board, they’ll take issue with the fact that you even took those photos in the first place.”

“So I just have to let this keep happening?” She feels her throat tighten, wetness rims her eyes.

“Change your passwords,” he says matter of factly. “A different one for every account.”

She nods, expelling a shaky breath, before standing. “I should probably get going. Thank you…for everything.”

Before she goes to bed that night, she changes her passwords - a different one for every account she owns, and deletes the newest uploaded photo, returning her profile picture to its original state.

As far as she is concerned, that should be the end of it. However, her breath hitches, icy cold fingers of fear gripping her heart when she logs on the following morning. Not only has her profile picture been changed to another photo from the set she’d taken for Jake, but the “about me” section now reads “vapid cunt”.

On autopilot, she dresses, taking her laptop and walking the six minutes from Christ Church Halls to Brasenose College.

As soon as Michael’s door opens, she flings her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest. He stiffens, not returning the gesture, until she finally pulls away.

He straighens, adjusting his glasses. His hair is rumpled from sleep, clad in a t-shirt and plaid pyjama bottoms.

“God, I’m so sorry, I woke you up,” she says tearfully, “I should go. I didn’t think, I just–”

“It’s fine,” he says flatly, ushering her in.

She sits down on the bed. It’s unmade, still warm from where he’s been sleeping in it. The feeling sends a shiver down her spine, despite her emotional distress.

Gingerly he sits next to her, keeping a respectable distance as she removes her laptop from her bag and opens it. “It’s happened again. I did everything you said to do, but it’s happened again, and it’s worse this time. Look–”

Handing him the laptop she shuffles closer to him, her thigh pressed against his. She can feel the warmth of him through her leggings. It causes butterflies to flutter in her belly, it’s been so long since she’s been this close to anyone.

Michael doesn’t stiffen at her touch this time, whether it’s because he doesn’t mind it or is too distracted by what he sees on the screen, she’s unsure, but it’s progress.

“Hmm. And you’re sure you changed your passwords?”

“Yes, all of them. I don’t know what else to do. If I report it, I risk my scholarship, but if this carries on I’ll lose it anyway, because how can I concentrate when this keeps happening?”

He says nothing, closing her laptop and passing it back to her.

“I’ve worked my arse off to get here, to earn my place, this can’t be what ends it,” she says miserably, tucking her computer back into her bag.

“I’d suggest focusing on your studies and less on your peers,” Michael says matter of factly. “You haven’t made the best choice of friends since arriving here.”

“They’re not my friends,” she whispers, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “At least not anymore. Do you think it’s one of them doing this?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” he replies bitterly, “stay away from them. I’ve got a lecture this morning, but maybe when I’ve got some downtime, I can do a deeper dive, perhaps see if I can track the logins to a device type.”

“You’d do that for me?” She whispers, looking at him with eyes full of appreciation.

“That’s what mates are for, right?”

“Thank you…just…thank you,” she tells him with sincerity, holding his gaze.

She reaches for his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, desperate to kiss his cheek as a gesture of her gratitude, but remembers the first time she’d done it and cringes inwardly. Though Michael’s hand doesn’t clutch back, he doesn’t move it away and, after a few moments, she realises they’re simply sitting holding hands, looking into each other's eyes.

He is beautiful in his own way. His stare, though intimidating, is piercingly blue, and his lips are soft and plump. She swallows, lashes fluttering in embarrassment when she realises she’s staring at his mouth.

Chancing her luck, she leans in, planting a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips. “I’ll be back at lunchtime, okay?” She whispers, before standing and moving towards the door.

He simply nods, fingers raising to brush over the spot where she’d kissed him. The sight puts a spring in her step for the rest of the morning, almost enough to forget about her being hacked. Almost.

She stops at a vending machine in the rec room on her way back to Brasenose at midday, deciding to buy Michael a Crunchie, an additional thank you for him going out of his way to help her.

As awful as having her privacy violated has been, she is grateful that it has brought her and Michael closer together. She had started the term wanting nothing more than to be his friend, and had royally fucked it up.

Now it seems they have mended their rift, and the prospect of being more than just friends is on the cards. Admittedly, he isn’t her usual type, but there is something about him that excites her. She hopes that once this is all over, this can be a fresh start for her at Oxford; her and Michael, just the caliber of intelligence she had wanted to associate with when she’d first applied.

She knocks at his door, hesitating when he doesn’t open it.

“Michael?” She calls out, brow furrowing in concern when he doesn’t answer.

They’d agreed upon lunchtime to meet, where was he? She tries the door handle and it’s unlocked, gingerly she pushes it open, peering slowly inside. He’s not there, but if he’d left it unlocked then he’d surely be back soon and wouldn’t mind her waiting inside for him.

She steps into the room, finding it much the same as before, only this time the bed is made. Walking over to the window by the desk, she stops to admire the view of the church, startling slightly when her bag knocks the computer chair, disturbing the mouse and taking Michael’s laptop out of sleep.

As she is about to turn back to the window, she notices her Myspace profile is open in edit mode in his browser. She frowns, a feeling of unease washing over her, as she steps towards the desk, her hand trembling as she reaches for the mouse.

She minimises Internet Explorer, gasping when she sees a folder open on his desktop, filled with the photos she had sent to Jake, all of them, even the ones that hadn’t yet been set as her profile picture.

Her heart pounds as she selects all of them, deleting them before clicking on the recycling bin to empty it.

“You didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to not create back ups, did you?”

Turning, she sees that Michael has returned, so quietly she hadn’t noticed. His fingers clutch at the USB stick that’s clipped to his cargo shorts, lips turned up into an expression of smugness.

Tears prickle her eyes, as her heart lurches, the only word that escapes her is “why?” as she looks at him with arched brows, her face pinched into an expression of emotional hurt.

“Why?” He repeats, cocking his head, advancing towards her as she shrinks back into the corner. “Because someone needed to take you down a peg or two.”

“You’ve ruined my life!” She cries, tears slipping down her cheeks, looking at him in disbelief.

This has to be a dream, it is too surreal. Any moment now, she’ll wake up and all of this will have been a terrible dream.

Only it’s not, it’s real, real as the heat of his breath that fans across her face as he looms over her, having backed her fully into the corner between the desk and the window. 

“What life? Pretending to play a part with people that don’t really like you? Using your pretentious choice in reading material to make yourself seem intelligent?”

“You don’t know anything about me!” She says defiantly.

“Oh, I know all about you. Hiding your scholarship from those vapid cunts, so they won’t sniff out your working class background and drop you. The variations of John Browning as your password - adding a different number to each variation doesn’t make it a different password, stupid girl.”

“I was nice to you…” She offers feebly, almost pleading with him.

He smirks, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, gripping harshly, forcing her to look at him. “You felt sorry for me. But it’s not me that needs pity, is it? It’s you. Poor little scholarship slut. You love that My Last Duchess poem so much because you see yourself in it, don’t you? Think you’re being objectified, treated unfairly. Well, let me tell you something, you are like that poem, but in the sense that you’re better in pictures than you are in real life.”

“Stop it,” she whispers, trying to pull away from him.

“Truth hurt, does it?” He asks, his grip on her face remaining tight. “That’s a pity. I enjoyed those pictures, really enjoyed them. It’s a shame the real life version is so whiny and pathetic.”

“I’ll report you,” she says quietly.

“Oh, I don’t think you will, somehow. You love the attention,” he tells her, dropping his hand from her chin to her shoulder, turning her and backing her up towards the bed. “I’ve seen how you look at me. If I wanted to fuck you right now, you’d let me.”

“I–I wouldn’t!” She stammers, feeling her face grow warm.

With a gentle shove from him, she topples back against the mattress, and he is quick to move over her, caging her in. “Liar,” he whispers in her ear.

She shudders at the sensation, despising the way her body betrays her, as heat pools between her legs. She shouldn’t be turned on by this, yet she can’t deny the way he sets her pulse racing.

“I haven’t ruined your life, but I could and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” He hisses.

The weight of him on top of her, his warm breath fanning against her neck, it’s dizzying. She wants to tell him to get off of her, to push him away, yet she cannot find it in herself to do so. There is a part of her that’s curious to see how far he’ll push this.

When she doesn’t say anything, he carries on, nimble fingers moving to the waistband of her leggings, tugging them down. “I’m going to treat you like the desperate, little slut that you are, and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

She whines, lifting her hips as he rids her of the bottom half of her clothing.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks.

His gaze falls between her legs, tentative fingers reaching out to brush through the wetness that has gathered there. She sees a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes and wonders if he has ever done this before.

She knows his moment of hesitation would be enough for her to push him away, grab her clothes and report him, yet she feels compelled to stay. If this is his first time, then she wants it to be her. She enjoys the dynamic of the power he has over her, while simultaneously being able to take something from him.

Wanting to bolster his confidence, urge him to continue, she sits up, eager hands unfastening his belt and unzipping his shorts. It flips a switch inside him, and he’s surging forward once more, pinning her beneath him as he pushes his boxers down just enough to free his cock.

“Tell me you want this,” he rasps against the shell of her ear.

“I want this,” she mewls desperately, feeling the head of him resting at her entrance.

“You’re going to keep letting me do this to you, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll wear that tarty underwear from your photos for me, won’t you?”

“...yes.”

He presses forward and is met with resistance, not having fully prepared her. He draws back and pushes against her again, repeating the motion until he’s fully sheathed inside of her. It’s exquisite torture, a pleasurable hurt to be split apart by him, to feel so full.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he stills and she can feel his inexperience in the way that he tenses, but isn’t prepared to give up when they’ve already come this far. She rolls her hips against his, a breathy sigh escaping her as she feels her sweet spot rub up against the head of him.

He screws his eyes shut, jaw going slack, before beginning to move his own hips, pulling back to slam forward once more, quickly finding a rhythm that suits him. This isn’t careful, considered lovemaking, they rut against each other like animals, both of them allowing instinct to guide them as they seek out the movements that feel most pleasurable.

She clings tightly to him, meeting him thrust for thrust, their breaths coming in hot, shallow pants.

“Fucking knew this was all you needed,” he mutters, “someone to teach you a lesson, see you for what you really are.”

“Please,” she whimpers, her hands sliding down to his backside to push him in deeper, causing him to groan.

“F–fuck,” he stutters, picking up his pace when he feels her start to tighten around him. “Tell me you’re mine, you don’t need anyone else, just me.”

“‘M yours,” she gasps, pushing her hips against his, zeroing in on the precipice she is about to fall from.

A particularly harsh thrust is the final shove she needs, and white hot waves of euphoria wrack her body, as she cries out in ecstasy. Suddenly, Michael is withdrawing, leaving her to clench around nothing as he paints her inner thigh with sticky warmth.

He collapses beside her, and she stares into the lightly fogged lenses of his glasses, their noses bumping together.

“Are you still going to ruin my life?” She asks, hazy with pleasure.

For the first time, their lips meet, a messy clash of tongue and teeth, that’s sloppy and wet, their breaths still heavy and movements uncontrolled. 

“You’re going to let me,” he whispers when they finally break for air, “because you’re mine.” Resistance is futile, she will let him. She wants this, needs this. After all, Michael Gavey is the type of person she came to Oxford to associate with in the first place, and she’s gotten exactly what she asked for.

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey imagine #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x y/n #ewan mitchell #michael gavey saltburn #satlburn michael gavey #saltburn #michael gavey fan fiction #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fan fic #michael gavey fanfic #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fanfic #satlburn fan fiction #satlburn fan fic

[c-kiddo]

coloured in sketches from catching up on cr3 ^_^ ✸

(this was my first time in a while drawing cad because all the recent things ive posted of him are from multiple weeks ago or after these drawings, but i got inspired by th ruidusborn theory lol)

[image ID: digitally coloured sketch pages of various characters from critical role. the first image has four portraits of Imogen, wearing a hat, with her hair in braids, and one with a scarf on her head and saying "that's above your pay-grade". there's also one sketch of Liliana, and an unimpressed Beau, and a shins-up drawing of Imogen cast in red and purple light with red lightning and flames in her hands, her hair flying up in the air and an intense look on her face. there's moons and red stars and notes scattered on the page too. the second image is two portraits of Caduceus, one at a three-quarters angle and one from the side, with his hair tied back. above his head is a red eye and a blue and red moon. the notes "forgot how to draw him" and "ok" are written above him too. end ID.]

#critical role fanart #critical role #imogen temult #liliana temult #beauregard lionett #caduceus clay #cr3 #cr2 #bells hells #the mighty nein #myart #described #besties i think imogen beau and cad are my faves. what does this say about me. (mental illnes.) #im sorry laudna i lvo u too but imogen is so coool

[scoobydoomistakes]

At first I was digitally haunted… and then my attempts to *show* it to y'all were haunted, too.

Fate gave me a better Halloween post than I could possibly come up with myself. Thanks, fate!

Context: I'm a photographer by trade.

(It was surprisingly hard to find a recent photo of myself with a camera, so I opted for one at DPAC, a place I shoot, and one with a small cat, which is about the size of a camera)

And the thing about modern cameras is, corrupted files are not common.

I probably hadn't seen even something minor in, what, a year or two?

Until this, yesterday.

Which would have been the weird thing.

Except that this is a completely-different glitch than the original I wanted to show you.

Seriously! The instant I viewed the image large for the first time, the original version vanished, permanently.

Zooming in it's cool and all, but I wanted to get to the bottom of things.

...huh. Well, that's not very helpful in the file browser.

What if I open it in–

Yeeeaaah, that ain't any better. What if instead, I opened it in–

…now, that's just adding insult to injury, technology.

Is there seriously no program that can display it with any more–

WHOA! Now, that's more like it!

Also revealed it was a test frame in the portrait session! Neato.

Well, what if I try to import it into Lightroom again... but in a different way?

Ooh! The teensy initial preview is promising!

I'll be darned. It's actually 100% normal this time!

...

...

...wait, that's the exact opposite of what we're trying to do.

One more time.

Alright, that's more like it. It's still not that weirdest original glitch, but–

...

...hold up, is it... different, though?

Yes, it was.

Testing proved it randomized a whole new way every stinkin' time you import it.

We needed a breakthrough.

The file itself was corrupted, sure, but clearly the display/conversion process was crucial.

As a last-ditch effort, I tried importing it with multiple unglitched portraits.

BINGO!

This was it! This was the extra-haunted version I wanted to show!

Sure, it would still revert to 120% scrambling if I double-clicked it, but hey, all the best spookiness is ephemeral.

We'd found our Halloween post, lost it... lost it some more, lost it again, and then finally got it back...

...only, erm... at the cost of losing our sanity.

Happy Halloween, y'all. May your night not be cursed with technological hauntings, unless that's exactly what you're going for, in which case have at it.

–Colin

#halloween #halloween 2023

[cryptidclaw]

Fire and Ice: Rise of Change edition (aka. my redraw of the Fire and Ice cover) is complete! 

This took me FOR EVER, the complete opposite of the Into the Wild cover, that one I completed in 1 night, this one has been a WIP for possibly a month??? Could be more and I wouldn't be surprised. 

This is probably one of the most complicated covers in the first arc, there are so many characters and such a big background! I am not used to illustrating backgrounds like this so at least it was a good push to get me out of my comfort zone! 

Now info about my changes to the cover! The cats in the frame are Bracken(paw) and Cinder(paw), they are both important characters in this book and they are Fire and Gray’s first apprentices (Bracken is more Fire’s apprentice too honestly) so I thought they should get a spot light! Also I want to change a lot of the frames in future covers bec I like the idea of other important characters getting the cover spot light! 

The other characters in the scene behind the frame are Sedgecreek (upper right), Graystripe (upper left), Troutclaw aka. Whiteclaw (below Graystripe), Voleclaw (farthest bottom left), Leopardfur (Next to Voleclaw), Fireheart (bottom middle), and Sand(paw) (bottom right). All of these cats were in the border skirmish between River and Thunder when Fire and Gray were traveling back from bringing back Wind Order! 

Image IDs v

[Image ID: A digital illustration, which is a redraw of the original Warriors: Fire and Ice cover.  At the top of the cover is the Warriors title written in dark purple, and below it is written Fire and Ice which is yellow and lined in the same dark purple. Below the title is a portrait style frame centered in the middle of the cover, this frame depicts Bracken(paw) and Cinder(paw) centered in the frame, sitting next to each other with mirrored blank, wide eyed expressions. They are in a dark night scene and are mostly in shadow with their eyes glowing a bright white. In front of them are black silhouettes of grass, and in the background in a dark blue night sky and a huge bright blue moon lined with white. Behind this frame, filling up the rest of the cover, is a illustration of a battle taking place in a sunset scene of a river surrounded by grass that is mostly lit in yellows and oranges. In the foreground at the bottom of the illustration are 4 cats, there are two on the left of the page, we can only see their angry seemingly yelling faces peaking over a log, the cat farther from the left has her arm raised with her claws unsheathed, the other two cats are faced away from the camera and are looking towards the first two. from left to right the first cat is grey with blue eyes, the second in gold with brown spots and amber eyes, the third is round, chubby and orange, and the forth is a cream and back tortie. In the mid ground are two cats by the river bank, one is standing with their left side showing and they are crouched low to the ground and screeching at something off screen, the other is behind this cat, and is getting ready to pounce on the first cat while screeching. the First cat is a brown and white cat with orange eyes and the second is a big gray tabby with glowing yellow eyes. On the other side of the river is a single cat looking over to the other side, this cat is a brown tabby with green eyes. At the bottom of the cover where the author is usually listed, is written “Rise of Change” in yellow text./End ID]

#cryptidclaw's warriors au #rise of change #warrior cats #warrior cats design #warriors cover #warriors art #warriors #Fire and Ice #Warriors fire and ice #the prophecies begin #TPB

[blueskittlesart]

What advice would you give beginner artists?

it's fine to want to do more stylized art, but nothing will help you improve quickly like studying from life. even if you want to draw very stylized figures, life drawing is still going to help you understand how the human body works and then you can build your stylization off of that understanding. I also recommend studying specifically things you're looking to improve--if you feel like your poses aren't dynamic, ask your model to do some quick (1-2 min) dynamic poses and work on getting the gesture down. if you're looking for anatomy, ask for longer, more static poses and really study the contours of the body. this also applies for portraiture and character art--my expressions and facial structure improved like CRAZY when i started doing portrait studies from life! (note: i know live model sessions aren't accessible for everyone. i'm a huge advocate for nude models, if you can find a studio nearby that's affordable to you that offers sessions, that's the best you're gonna get. however, there are sites that will give you photos of nude models to draw from, too, or you can even just ask friends or family to pose for you when they aren't busy, that's what i did before i started getting model sessions from my school!)

materials are not everything but sometimes a good material can make a difference. it's important to know what's worth it and what isn't for your skill level. invest in some decent-quality supplies or a good art program, but understand that you're still going to need to work to understand your materials and use them to their fullest potential. (if you're a digital artist buy csp. trust me on this. get it on sale. it will change your life. also do not fucking use photoshop)

tracing is ok. listen to me. TRACING. IS. OK. tracing is how you learn. don't trace other people's art and pass it off as your own, obviously, but there is literally no problem with tracing real-life reference photos. I routinely trace references for backgrounds and the like. there is no reason for you to kill yourself trying to make complex perspective and shit up from your head when you can very easily just overlay a photo and get what you need.

in that same vein, USE REFERENCE PHOTOS. find pics online or take pics of yourself and USE THEM to see how your poses work. it makes it SO SO SO much easier. the understanding that you need to create a pose out of nowhere will come with time but you're not going to get that skill unless you have a foundation of understanding how the real human body works, and the easiest way to get that understanding is by copying photos of real people.

last but not least, there's generally a sort of 'rulebook' that new artists are expected to go by, especially online, when it comes to digital art. when i was first learning, it was all about lineart and cell shading, two things that I didn't really like. Nowadays it seems to be all about rendering. the single most important thing i can tell you is if it sucks you don't have to do it. if you hate lineart just color your sketches. if you hate shading don't shade, or find a different way to shade that you enjoy more. if rendering is annoying or difficult for you DON'T BOTHER!! art is supposed to be fun. if part of your process is annoying or upsetting to you, cut it the fuck out. don't torture yourself just to do art the "right" way. i guarantee your art will look better when you're having fun making it anyway!

#asks #ALSO don't go in expecting to monetize your social media presence/go viral as an artist. make art for YOU and make what you want to make. #if your art has passion behind it then attention will come naturally!

[lolasimms]

Just an idea but what about Ellie and y/n’s honey moon???

High by the beach - Ellie x Reader

_____________________ ୨୧ _______________________

౨ৎ She makes so many White lotus references and makes you rewatch it every night.

౨ৎ Will wake you up at 6am sharp so you can be first at the breakfast buffet.

౨ৎ She insists that “the earlier, the fresher” the food is.

౨ৎ Loves leaving love bites all over you especially with the sundresses and open clothes you’d wear.

౨ৎ She’s obsessed with your bikinis but especially the ones with little lace ribbons and frills.

౨ৎ Will fondle you at the pool, beach, breakfast , lunch and dinner.

౨ৎ Her sex drive during the honeymoon has you utterly exhausted and spent.

౨ৎ After the second night of the honeymoon you’d vowed to hit the gym in the morning after a big dinner.

౨ৎ Plans were changed after Ellie spent an hour in between your thighs, refusing to let you go until your come for her 5 times.

౨ৎ You’d woken up sore and exhausted between your legs and mad that you’d missed your gym session.

౨ৎ Ellie takes pictures of everything, she brings her digital camera with her wherever the two of you go.

౨ৎ Signs you guys up for the hotels, wine and painting night and ends up painting a naked portrait of you.

౨ৎ Somehow manages to find a plug and insists the two of you smoke at the beach.

౨ৎ After having done so and getting absolutely zooted at the beach, you head back to the room and order a hefty amount of room service.

୨୧

“Why does everything sound so good?” you asked, your mouth practically watering over the thought of French fries.

“Because we’re a high as fuck,” Ellie replies, snickering. You both fell silent before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“I want a cheeseburger.”You blurt, nuzzling into her.

“Oh my god, yes.” She rolls over to see the menu. “Crumbed chicken and macaroni and cheese”. That sounds good. Nachos? We should get those too.”

“This is getting expensive.” You laugh, as you grab the menu from her hands.

“Run up a tab. We’re celebrating baby, it’s our fucking honeymoon” She places both hands on your face and leaves a harsh kiss on your lips.

“We’re high Els.”

“Because we’re celebrating…” She hums and licks her lips. “You know since we’re married, we should make a baby. I should put a baby in you tonight.”

“What?”

“We can put a cheeseburger in you first. I’m hungry, too.”

୨୧

౨ৎ You surprise her with a trip to a planetarium on your second to last day and she’s over the moon.

౨ৎ While the tour guide is explaining the constellations she leans over and tells you about how bad she’s going to eat you out tonight.

౨ৎ She books you a couples massage overlooking the beach front.

౨ৎ The two of you love going on night swims, usually they end in you both getting handsy.

౨ৎ Tries to convince you to extend the honeymoon the day before you leave because she’s having so much fun.

౨ৎ When you get back home you catch her looking for ‘best holiday destinations for married couples’ no more than two days after the honeymoon.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #reader x ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams tlou #reader x ellie #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams fic #ellie williams smut #female reader x ellie williams

[swartists4palestine]

Meet the team!!

Here’s a little bit about the people behind the project.

"Hi! I'm Moss, my comfortless comfort character is Boba Fett, and I'm offering icons and busts! Also, I'm big on AOTC but I turn it off right before the battle of Geonosis starts." -@baufraus

Howdy! I'm @maulfucker but you can call me Youni, I love alien ocs and villains the most, and my favorite star wars is Phantom Menace :]

Hi! I’m Ty! (they/them) I’m offering half or full body drawings of your OCs or fave characters! At the moment I’m pretty into rebels and the clone wars :)) -@tyquu

“Hii! I’m gooserolls! (they/he/xe) I am offering pencil or colored digital portraits of ocs or canon characters! I love all things mandalorians, although the clone wars has a special place in my heart too :] -@gooserolls

"Hiya, I'm Mel (or Melon) (she/her) I'm offering coms of ocs or canon characters! I especially love drawing togruta and prequel era characters but have fun with most any portrait :>" -@notsomeloncholy

"Hello, I'm Nova (he/they) and I'll be offering commissions of your OCs! I am obsessed with Mandos, Chiss and the First Order, and a big fan of Empire strikes back". -@mandalorian-general

"hello hello, I'm Crypt, (they/them) lover of animation, ocs and all things silly. Offering half body and full body sketches and doodles. Favourite characters? No one in particular, but I'm fond of the clones and Hondo" -@dragon-subway

“I’m Ben, (he/him) an art student who aspires to be a character designer. I’ll be offering character portraits and sketches! My favorite Star Wars tends to be animation, in particular the Clone Wars and the Bad Batch!” -@phi-guy

"Hey I'm @stealingpotatoes, (she/her) but you can call me Potes! I'm offering half-lined doodles for donations! My favourite sw character is Cal Kestis (closely followed by Ahsoka and the Skywalker fam), but I can't wait to draw your faves too!"

Hello! I'm Anemonet and I will be doing coloured sketches ^-^ I'm a big Aayla Secura fan and togruta enthusiast, I am also very fond of the prequel trilogy (its so bad, I love it to bits). -@tenomenema

hi, i’m caws!! (he/him) i’m a big fan of the prequel trilogy, the clone wars, and rebels :) i’m offering colored digital sketches of ocs and canon characters! -@cawsceries

hihi! I’m Ophelia, doing comms of ocs or canon characters! Offering digital art—big fan of pantorans but I’ll do my best with anything -@sithbian

"hi!! my name is deck. im offering colored half body drawings of ocs and canon characters. im all about prequels era and tcw but tbh like anything" -@ddeck

“Hi! I’m sam (he/they), I’m an art student who loves the original trilogy, clones (especially cody)and mandalorians. I‘m offering colored sketches and painted pieces, from headshot to full body, depending on the amount donated. I’m alright with most subjects, oc and canon, but I particularly love drawing clones and most sw alien species :)” -@aspic31

Hello there! My name is Lee and Im a big ole fan of clone wars, bad batch, and the Mandalorian! I’m happy to do half body digital drawings of canon clones, clone ocs, and mando ocs (if you have an approved Mandalorian Mercs armor happy to do them!!! -@ofteasandherbs

"Hello, I'm S_C_G! (she/her) I'm offering short one shots. I love the prequels, jedi, mandalorians, and star wars in general." -@s-c-g-s-c-g

“Hello there! I’m @steepedfoxglovetea (they/she/he) and I’ll write medium length one shots. I love writing about The High Republic, the Rebellion, and just after RotS”

“Hi I’m @lost-in-derry (she/they) on tumblr and ao3! I can write short to medium length one shots about Rebels and Clone Wars”

“hi!! i’m lee (she/her), i’m offering short fics between 300-600 words of canon characters/ocs from the prequel/tcw era or original trilogy era.” -@kookyburrowing

"Hi! I'm Lil, (she/her), and I'm a big fan of the Bad Batch, but open to drawing any Star Wars characters or OCs with clear references. I'm taking comms for bust, half-body, and full body colored sketches. Willing to do flat color for higher donations! From the river to the sea." -@the-little-moment

Hi! I’m Trip (they/them) I’m a disabled artist and I’ve been a star wars fan since 2008 I am a really big ahsoka fan, Cody fan, Just mostly a clone wars guy but I love all of star wars all around I will draw any star wars characters but I prefer clone wars era :) -@triple-a-artist

my name is cer (he/him) and i draw sometimes. i also write but poorly so i probably won't do that. i like drawing clone troopers and ahsoka...mostly anything star wars the clone wars 2008 related. i still don't know how to draw anakin but i can definitely figure that out given time -@aliettali

i am ochi and i draw/animate (mostly draw)!! i like star wars the clone wars 2008 a lot and also bright colors and lighting. happy to be here!! -@ochi-does-art

Hi, I’m @chiliger and I’m offering sketch and simple flat color portraits of OC’s and canon characters. I especially love the clones, but Rogue One and Screecher’s Reach have a special place in my heart.

#artists for palestine #meet the team

[your-eternal-lies]

_  YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME (chapter four)

Main Navigation || Series Masterlist Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

PAIRING — Steve Rogers x f!Reader SUMMARY — As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

WARNINGS — None.

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME

CHAPTER FOUR THE ARTS AND THE HOURS

The darkness of the elevator seems to press against him like a tangible force, urging the silence to stretch on infinitely. Steve shifts in the cramped space, his knees brushing against yours as the two of you have now found purchase on the floor, his leather jacket spread under you in a makeshift blanket. 

The initial irritation that had marked his unplanned confinement seems to dissolve into the soft shadows surrounding him, now that he’s gotten to know his neighbour a little more. 

“Ever play two truths and a lie?” You ask, breaking the silence, obviously bored. He checks his phone, it has now been an hour since the elevator stopped, with no signs of rescue on the horizon. 

“Can’t say I have,” Steve replies, the corners of his eyes crinkling with curiosity. 

“You tell me three things about yourself, or vice versa—two are true, and one’s a lie. You guess the fib.” 

“Sounds easy enough,” he says, already mentally sifting through his own truths and falsehoods. “You first.” 

“Okay,” you clear your throat dramatically, allowing your head to drop back against the wall behind you. “One, I’ve bungee-jumped off the Macau Tower. Two, I can recite every line from The Notebook. And three, my favourite colour is blue.” 

He taps his chin, pretending to deliberate. “I’m going to say… the third one?” 

“Nope, never even seen The Notebook,” you say, your voice softening, eyes meeting his as you turn your head. “I love blue.” 

“Well, now I know,” he grins, in that moment feeling a swell of tenderness in his chest. 

“Your turn, Cap.” 

Steve takes a breath, “I once danced with Marilyn Monroe. I’ve painted a self-portrait. I hate coconut.” 

“Self-portrait?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“No,” he chuckles, his cheeks turning red. “It’s a terrible piece, but it exists somewhere. The lie is Marilyn, I never met her. And I do actually despise coconut.” 

“Who hates coconut?” You exclaim, feigning outrage before chuckling quietly to yourself. “But you paint? That’s really cool.” 

“I draw, too,” he inhales deeply, the sound cutting through the stagnant air of the elevator. “I find it… therapeutic, to put pencil to paper. It helps me make sense of things—things I’ve seen, stuff I’ve been through.” 

“What do you draw?” You ask, your tone soft and betraying genuine intrigue. 

“Sometimes,” he begins, his voice lowering as if sharing a forbidden secret. “It’s just abstract shapes, lines, and shadows. Other times, it’s memories of…” Places he can’t return to, people he can’t bring back. 

His voice trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You don’t press him, instead you wait patiently for him to continue. 

“Mostly landscapes,” he says, his gaze growing distant as he switches gears. He squeezes his phone in his hand, as the minutes stretch indefinitely, maybe he can have the courage to share the man beyond the shield—a dreamer, an artist, and a quiet soul who speaks in shades and contours. 

“Maybe I could show you?” 

Steve is more than talented. 

You scroll through his camera roll, a digital photo album bursting with snapshot images of charcoal, oils, and watercolour. 

The view from the Brooklyn Bridge at sunset, the light hitting the water in a way that makes the painting look like it’s moving, like the city skyline is breathing golden fire. 

A cityscape twisted with ribbons of futuristic technology entwined with threads of the past; an intricate dance of what had been and what was to come—a disorienting world not quite ready for a man out of time, a touching display of raw honesty in lines of graphite that bares a soul on paper. 

You push down a little tiny lump of emotion in your throat, trying not to acknowledge his bashful gesture of scratching at the back of his neck. This version of Steve is so at odds with the persona you’re so used to seeing in the action-packed news reels, a far cry from the stoic shield-wielding soldier you’d pegged him for. 

“Okay, so this one,” you tap one, a sketch of a figure standing at the edge of a precipice, looking out into an abyss that seems to pulse with both danger and wonder. “You’ve got some serious metaphors going on here. What, is Captain America contemplating a leap of faith of some kind?” 

Steve chuckles. “Both? Sometimes, you stand on the edge, not sure if you’re ready to jump into what’s next.” 

You nod, smiling so hard it makes your cheeks hurt, hoping it doesn’t make your admiration for him, among other things, painfully obvious. “That’s deep, Rogers.” 

Steve tuts in disapproval at your teasing tone, swiping the phone out of your hands, but he’s smiling too as he glances down at the screen. 

“Okay, I’m giving you a hard time,” you say, your tone shifting into something softer, more sincere. Your shoulder bumps lightly against his in the dark, and somehow his eyes shine like stars when he glances over at you. “But these are really something, Steve. You’ve got a gift.” 

“Thanks,” Steve says, the vibrations of his deep voice drawing a flush of warmth up your neck, and you break the eye contact reluctantly. “That means a lot to me… coming from the world’s most cynical woman.” 

“I’m not a cynic,” you laugh, your heart flip-flopping when the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way that should be illegal without a permit. “I’m a realist. There’s a very big difference.” 

“Is that what you call it?” Steve’s lips twitch, the ghost of a smile still playing there. 

“Even if I am a cynic, I’m not that bad.” You admit, not missing the way his smile finally reaches his eyes. Your shared laughter dwindles down to a comfortable hush, and you shift on the floor next to him, your legs starting to cramp from sitting too long. 

“You’re right,” Steve relents, his eyes betraying an affection you’re surprised to see. “Not bad at all.” 

« Chapter 3 || Chapter 5 »

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers fluff #summer’s fics

[sirfrogsworth]

Most of my photos were from 2012 to 2016. I have learned a lot since then. My photo restoration hobby has improved my image editing skills in general. And I was curious if I tried editing one of my photos from scratch if I could improve upon my original edit from years ago.

This is my friend Nicole.

( @nicolebelongs I hope you don't mind being my guinea pig for this.)

This is just a direct output of the original RAW file. RAW files are typically flat by nature so you have more latitude when processing and editing.

This is my original finished edit from 2016.

I actually made a pretty big lighting mistake when shooting this photo. A beauty dish can cause harsh reflections on makeup and so Nicole's forehead bounced all that light directly into my camera. I was still learning back then and didn't know anything about makeup. All that was required was angling the dish a few degrees up or down, which feels like a pretty silly mistake all these years later.

And here is my 2023 edit. I did not reference the 2016 image until after I finished.

The main priority was the glare on the forehead, but I think this is much more balanced overall as well. I also tried to fix the weird neck shadow and the lack of light in the eyes. I probably should have used a reflector originally, but thankfully Photoshop has a solution to almost any photography blunder. I removed some vellus hairs on the edge of the face, as that is not something you would notice in real life, but the camera and lights can exaggerate them. I'd also like to say I love the new remove tool. Getting rid of flyaway hairs was such a monotonous pain in the ass before and that thing just zaps them with a click.

I am also trying to learn new editing techniques I was never good at. There is a retouching technique called "dodging & burning" that I had trouble with back in the day. Mostly because finding advanced tutorials can be difficult. Much of the content on YouTube focuses on beginner techniques.

Dodging & burning was originally innovated by Ansel Adams back in the days of film. He would block portions of his negatives for a second or two so those areas would develop darker. Or he would let sections expose longer so they would be brighter. It was basically analog Photoshop. You can see a neat video of his darkroom here.

While Ansel mostly did landscapes, portrait photographers of the digital age utilize dodging & burning to help bring out dimension in the face. It's quite similar to makeup contouring, actually. It is very hard to perfectly light every nook and cranny on a face and many portrait lenses are slightly telephoto. Longer lenses compress faces to remove distortion, but you end up losing three-dimensionality as a tradeoff.

My first attempt dodging and burning did not go well but I played with this photo for a few hours trying many different approaches and I think I landed on something I like. But I have been staring at it for way too long, so it is hard for me to look at it objectively.

I do wish we could all look at this on the same display. Green is notoriously difficult to keep consistent from screen to screen.

In any case, there are a dozen subtle things I did with my upgraded knowledge that may not be noticeable individually, but I'm hoping it all adds up to a better finished result.

And I guess we'll see if there is a consensus regarding the dodging & burning. Either good, bad, or just... different.

#photography

[henriediosa]

Why doesn't he want to sing?

A series of ID pic portraits of an imaginary Filipino cast to go with my Tagalog translation of The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals!

A version with the blue shit under the cut (cn: blood), along with some Palatawan lore

From left to right, top to bottom:

Ken Davidson - third culture kid with expat parents running a ""call center"" on the sleepy little island of Palatawan

Lottie Magayon - nervous sweetheart who takes way too many smoke breaks. iglesia ni cristo. Magayon means beautiful in bikol, and is also the name of an active volcano.

Ted Jakolino - department head, but nobody calls him Sir Ted out of the office. ccf. Jakolino is making the same pun as spankoffski

Elmo Mangubat - best friend and struggling dad. mangubat = go to the forest = wood-ward

Melissa - nobody knows her last name, she's just Miss Melissa. likes cats

Emma Perez - disinherited rich kid doing a TESDA agriculture course while working at Beanie's, hates being called Ate (big sister) Emma so of course Zhoey calls her that all the time. her full name is Ma. Emmanuella de los Reyes Perez.

Enrique Ermita - kooky reclusive biology professor who is inexplicably also a heroic tenor. his students call him Prof Kiko.

Pablo Mateo - two first names. default man, palatawan born and bred. has never left and never wants to

Random fun things about Palatawan that I just want to share

The Witchwood is called Pinagputulan (the place of the cut-off things)

CCRP is one of those shady call centers that take up way more space than they're supposed to.

The Latte Hotte is the Beanie-bini (binibini)

ID: (1) a 3x3 collage of eight digital portraits that look like monochrome ID pictures: sir ken, miss lottie, sir ted, elmo, melissa, emma, prof kiko, and pablo. in the centre are the words "bakit ayaw niya kumanta?"

(2) the same collage, but all of the portraits have dark grey backgrounds except pablo, who has a cyan background. all of the characters except emma and pablo have cyan eyes and various degrees of blue gore on their faces, and all of the other characters are looking at pablo. ID ends.

#tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #starkid #hatchetfield #palatawan #team starkid #ken davidson #charlotte sweetly #ted spankoffski #bill woodward #melissa hatchetfield #emma perkins #henry hidgens #paul matthews