#please can someone teach me how to do art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solaireverie · 10 days

Text

sv5 | that lavender haze

summary: [ florist!sebastian vettel x f!driver!reader — social media au ] your florist husband spoils you with his creations

faceclaim: phoebe tonkin

author’s note: seb the love of my life <3

[ masterlist / guidelines / lola's masterlist / series masterlist ]

liked by sebastianvettel, lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 35,201,234 others

yourusername catching the waves 🏄🏻‍♀️

view comments

sebastianvettel Ich liebe dich 🥰

↪ yourusername can't wait to be home with you again 💗

ausgp can we keep you down under please? 🦘

↪ f1mia back off 🦅🇺🇸

user mother AND mommy omg

mickschumacher can you teach me how to surf instead 🙏 lewishamilton doesn't understand that not everyone is naturally talented at everything

↪ lewishamilton i don't know what to tell you, mate 😂 keep calm and keep your balance, it's all chill

↪ mickschumacher easy for you to say 🙄 you're not the one drinking seawater every five minutes

yourusername has added to their story

liked by yourusername, mickschumacher, charles_leclerc and 124,129 others

tagged: yourusername

sebastianvettel Welcome home yourusername ❤️ the flowers missed you and so did I 😉

view comments

user i love how y/n's husband's instagram is basically just a fanpage for her 😂

↪ user nah you can't forget the flowers ‼️

↪ user seb loves two things in life and they're his flowers and his wife 😌

user i don't even go here but i'm all for the golden retriever and black cat vibes 🤭

mickschumacher seb i have a bee problem in my backyard...

↪ charles_leclerc you know you could just text him right 🙃

↪ mickschumacher he checks his phone once every three months if your name isn't y/n l/n-vettel 💀

↪ sebastianvettel and I'm not ashamed of it 😄 but what can I help you with?

↪ mickschumacher a colony of bees moved into my garden 😅 i don't mind them but is there anything i should watch out for?

↪ sebastianvettel As long as they're not being overly aggressive you shouldn't have any problems 👍 keep me updated though

↪ mickschumacher thanks seb you're a lifesaver 😊

yourusername thanks for the flowers schatz 😘

↪ user ugh they're so Parents 😭

liked by charles_leclerc

↪ user charles liked your comment 😂 i guess even the drivers agree

↪ landonorris you didn't hear it from me but seb and y/n are the unofficial official grid parents

liked by mickschumacher, lewishamilton, yourusername, and 23,109,234 others

tagged: sebastianvettel

mercedesamgf1 We have a special guest this weekend at the #JapaneseGP 🐝 sebastianvettel is here at Suzuka to promote biodiversity and build some bee hotels with the drivers 💪

view comments

charles_leclerc Appreciated the art tips 😉

user this man 😭 "what do you think about this weekend's race?" "well obviously my wife is going to win everything"

↪ user as he should honestly

↪ user when you're in a "being a wife guy" competition and your opponent is sebastian vettel 💀

kevinmagnussen Thanks a lot Seb 😂 the kids want beehives now!

↪ sebastianvettel Glad to know that someone was listening when I was giving my talk about the role that bees play in our ecosystem 😔

↪ landonorris in my defence someone brought cookies and i was hungry...

↪ sebastianvettel you are 24 years old, Lando

↪ user why can i feel seb's disappointment through an instagram comment 😭

yourusername sometimes i wonder if he'd leave me for his bees 😂

↪ lewishamilton don't worry, you can crash on my couch if he does. roscoe needs a permanent babysitter

↪ yourusername two decades of friendship and that's all you see me as?

↪ lewishamilton let me by during the grand prix and i'll think about it

↪ yourusername mercedesamgf1 i'm telling toto

↪ sebastianvettel I would never leave you for bees, liebling. Clean energy, on the other hand...

liked by sebastianvettel, lewishamilton, susie_wolff and 132,293,402 others

tagged: sebastianvettel

yourusername Happy anniversary, my love 💐 12 years and counting

view comments

user the bouquet emoji because he's a florist omg 🥹

user my favorite thing ever is how 5-time wdc y/n l/n-vettel's husband is Just Some Guy who's completely smitten with his wife and makes her all the bouquets she could ever want 😭

↪ user they're like cottagecore addams 😩 i adore them so much

↪ user COTTAGECORE ADDAMS HELP 🤣🤣🤣

susie_wolff Congratulations and our best wishes!

↪ yourusername thank you ❤️😊 the same to you and toto!

sebastianvettel I'm the luckiest man in the world to be able to call you my wife and partner 💗 You're P1 forever, especially in my heart

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads @misartymis

#solwriting #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic

1K notes · View notes

invisiblerhythmcat · 2 years

Text

Yup, spending my usual time set aside to dance and be creative lying on the floor crying because I'm too exhausted to do anything

and like, I get that, in some ways, even being able to dance at all probably means I'm fine

and some days are fine and I can even when I feel horrible

but this isn't just being unfit now because of pandemic etcetcetc. I've been doing a lot of work to make sure I'm in shape, I built up to being able to do this time, from a point where five fucking minutes felt like two months and now I've been doing it regularly for months

this is just my body saying no and refusing and it happens rarely enough that I want to write it off as just a one-off

but it also happens frequently enough that I'm terrified that it means I can't do this at all anymore

I know there's always another way to dance and there is. I'm never going to stop dancing some way.

but I want to fucking be able to be creative without feeling hopeless about it

I want to be able to move without being terrified of the moment I have to stop

I don't necessarily need to do what I was doing before, but I want to do something

It just starts to feel like there's no fucking point anymore. What the hell am I working towards when I can't actually work towards anything?

And, on better days, I can turn this into part of the process, because part of art is feeling this shit and then doing something with it.

But some days, like today, I just want to not.

I'm too tired for this bullshit.

I just want to nap and then not feel tired and then be able to make some fucking art.

#it feels so silly #when I know I can teach and make art and have loads of things I can do #but I can't begin to explain how hopeless and heartbreaking it is to not be able to just get up and dance #during the time i've painstakingly built up and set aside to do that #and also that fear that once I stop a pattern I lose it #so I might have to build it up again from scratch because of one particularly bad day #and just fuck everything can this stop now #fun fact though someone was recently talking about one of their chronic illness experiences being crying on the floor #and I was like nope can't relate clearly I'm fine and there's nothing wrong with me #hahaha this is definitely not the first time this has happened #someone make me take my experiences seriously please

1 note · View note

allastoredeer · 1 month

Text

Hello, don't mind me, I just need to vent for a second.

First off, I just wanna say, as an aroace person on the ace-spectrum, feel free to ship Alastor all you want. Ship him with anyone. Have fun with it. Sex repulsed. Non-sex repulsed. Grey-ace. Demisexual. Pure unadulterated smut. Whatever, have at it. I love that shit.

Just please do it without infantilizing ace-aro people.

The amount of art, fics, and takes I've come across that's so patronizing to Alastor and his sexuality. Thing's like Alastor venting to Rosie about his feelings for a character with the caption "Alastor feeling love for the first time." Or Alastor wanting to have sex with a character and having feelings about that, and someone commenting "That's called a boner, sweetheart. That means you like them 🤭"

Like??? Like do ya'll not see how patronizing that sounds? Being ace-aro doesn't mean you don't know your own body. It doesn't mean you don't understand the functions of your body.

It doesn't mean you've never experienced intense emotions. It doesn't mean you've never experienced love before.

And, look, I know these are meant to be jokes. I know. People are joking. I laughed at the first few I came across, too. It's not meant to be harmful or condescending; no one means it that way. But there's been so much with such...bad takes recently, and I don't know about any other ace-spec people (I don't speak for all ace-specs. Hell, there are probably other ace-spec's who don't mind, enjoy it, or are making content like it themselves. I just speak for myself) but GOD it's getting uncomfortable.

Alastor is in his late 30's-early 40's in human years. That is the established age range we have for him. Do you really think that he'd go that long without ever experiencing "love?" He went through puberty just like everyone else, do you think he doesn't understand his own body???

Being asexual, or sex-repulsed, or touch-repulsed doesn't mean you automatically don't explore these parts of yourself. It doesn't mean he's never, once in his life, touched his own dick, or pussy, or whatever genitalia you're giving him. He can still very well be a "virgin" (which in and of itself is a social construct) while also knowing his body and confidently handling any "sexual needs" he has.

Do you really think he doesn't know what a boner is? That in all the years he's been alive and dead (on Earth and in Hell), he wouldn't have experienced these things once? (And you know what? Maybe he hasn't! Perhaps there are ace's out there like that! But you're telling me he doesn't KNOW what that is??? Really???)

Ah, no, it's all because he just hasn't found the right person yet, right? It's not until Lucifer/Angel Dust/Vox, whoever found him, and they gave him these feelings, and oh no, poor Bambi is feeling twitterpated and horny for the first time, isn't that romantic!

Honestly, not really. It just sounds like the same, stupid shit ace-aro people hear from family, friends, and acquaintances about their sexuality. You know, the tried and true: "Oh, you just haven't found the right person yet. You'll want all that eventually, you'll see😊"

Do you not see how frustrating that is?

Look, I am all down for Alastor exploring parts of himself. I want him to navigate different relationships, feel them out, figure out what kind of relationship he wants and what he's okay and not okay with doing. But there are ways to do that without treating him like a little UwU silly baby boy who doesn't know his own body, or his own emotions, or his own relationships with other characters. Like he needs someone to teach him about himself.

How about instead, he finds someone he feels comfortable exploring these elements with? Instead of them "teaching" him how to fuck, or masturbate, or whatever the hell you want to call it, they're giving him the room and safe-space to explore it at his own pace??!!

It comes across as someone who isn't on the ace-spectrum "teaching" an ace-spec character about their own sexuality which puts such a gross taste in my mouth. Or, at least, that's how it comes across to me.

And the thing is, I know people aren't going to stop. I know they're going to keep infantilizing Alastor and his aro-ace identity, and I wasn't originally going to make this post, because you can't control what people do in fandom.

So this is mostly just a post to say: HEY! Hello! Ace-aro person here! I hope you all are having fun and I love that you're exploring Alastor's asexual/aromantic identity! Especially those who may not be in the ace-spectrum themselves, as you're learning about us and our experiences! That's awesome! Can we just do that while also treating Alastor like the adult he is? Can we do that without being infantilizing and patronizing about his sexual identity? Please?"

That's all I really wanted to say. I just needed to get this off my chest instead of letting it fester. This isn't an attack on anyone, this is just the perspective of an Alastor multi-shipper who loves exploring his relationships with other characters (sexually and non-sexually) and deep-diving into the dynamics of the show.

Thanks for reading.

389 notes · View notes

calisources · 2 months

Text

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.

Sentences were taken from different sources of literature that depict dark romance, these include possessive language, jealousy, power trips, some kinks, innuendos. Some sentences are tamer than others, please use wisely. Change names, pronouns and locations as you see fit. This meme is not safe for all audiences, as it contains adult themes.

Cara is mine, and only mine.

You didn’t seem to be in any danger when you were being my good, little girl.

A crush? I had consumed at least three of that woman’s bodily fluids, as she had mine.

I worship you.

Very, very bad girl.

So you admit it, I make you scream.

See, my sweet gift? I knew you’d f/cking come around.

My beautiful, sweet gift. I am forever lost in you.

Let me heal those wounds and soothe that ache.

I’m gonna fuck you now. It’s gonna be fast and hard because I’ve waited too long for this.

In this fucked up world of ours, we're meant for each other.

I may have broken you, but know that you've broken me just the same.

Let me free you of the constraints of virtue. Better yet, free yourself.

You're supposedly protected by god, but here you are fucking the devil.

Like this you are powerful. Learn what it is to command the attention of a god.

I need you to take me the way you want me.

I hope you never forget about me and that the thought of me haunts you for eternity.

I was born to be your god, born with the power to make you do what I want.

You've captivated my soul and breathe life into me.

No escaping. I told you I'd never let you go.

I am a poison that all of humanity must fear.

You ruined me and I can’t be bothered about it.

I forgot how good you taste.

Real men get their girls nice and ready first.

This girl. She’s living, walking art. And she’s mine.

Do you want me on my knees?

You’re a bad man and you do bad things. You will always do bad things. But not to me.

You are painfully beautiful, do you know that?

Every time you look at me, it feels as if you start a wildfire inside my heart

Such a perfect girl you are, put on this world just for me.

I have killed for you, baby. And I’ll never stop.

You forgot I was a siren.

I just wanted to keep you forever.

I have missed you for so long. And now you are in front of me, but you’re afraid to touch me.

There can never be anything in the world that would hurt me more than when you left me.

I don’t know if I want to cry or if I want to scream or if I want to fucking kiss you.

Christ, I wish you could see yourself. You look otherworldly.

I used to smell your dirty shirts when you weren’t looking.

In order for me to fuck you, I’m going to need you to be healed first.

How I’ve missed that filthy mouth.

What else did I teach you?

You taught me how to be a good girl for you.

How to let you ravage me so badly that I feel like I’m on the brink of death.

I'm a simple man who's been reduced to his base instincts to hunt, capture, keep.

If she is my devil, then I will gladly burn.

If you don’t protect what belongs to you, then sooner or later, it belongs to someone else.

The power he holds over me―

You like to be owned by me? Knowing that I will kill anyone that ever tries to steal you away?

You want passion. A love that completely devours every inch of you.

I know that you long for a little danger, too. I saw how you thrived on it.

It only hurts because I want you so much.

if you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d know why I chose you.

You taste like sin.

You're doing so good, Handsome.

No one touches what's mine.

And you are mine. Whether you agree is irrelevant.

I caught you, so now I get to ravish you.

Let’s do something about that mouth of yours, hm?

Be my woman, Ana. Allow me to call myself yours.

I want you to know that you can’t hide from me.

Play nicely, little lamb. Or else, I won’t.

I will do with you as I please.

Show me how much you want me.

You haven’t been getting what you need, have you?

Would it make you feel better if I call you Daddy while you fuck me?

You’ll never know when I’m going to drag you into the darkness.

I’m rough with your body sometimes, but I’ll always be gentle with your soul.

Fucking hell, you’re sweet. You’re so goddamn sweet.

The flesh wants what it wants.

If you continue to behave like this, I'll actually start to believe you don't hate me.

Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes Power.

And I will break you. I will make it so you can't breathe without me.

What happened to the thrill of the chase?

I just like the way wrong feels.

I swear I won't touch you even with a finger until you ask me yourself.

I need to hear a yes, sir.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #usft tw #usft meme #smut meme #suggestive tw

400 notes · View notes

galedekarios · 5 months

Text

gale as a professor at blackstaff academy

i have to say that at first i wasn't too sold on the (then still fanon) idea of a professor ending because of gale's own prior anecdote about being irked by his previous students and their inadequacies.

i thought it might not be a good fit for him as far as professions go.

but reading the epilogue files, i have come around on it.

i think it's just one more way in which he's really grown into himself, become content with who he was in the past, the mistakes he made and what he has learned from them, and the person he wants to be in the future:

Player: You? A teacher? I'd hardly say you set the best example for impressionable young wizards... Gale: I think it makes perfect sense. devnote: Surprised you wouldn't recognise this, a tiny bit offended you don't trust him to do this Gale: Who better to warn of the perils of misusing magic than someone who was once only a wayward sneeze away from destroying a mid-sized settlement? devnote: playing up to his past a bit, you can imagine this is how he acts with his students Tara the Tressym: Don't remind me of those terrible times, Mr Dekarios. My blood pressure has only just recovered.

a few more cute banters & things we learn about gale and his new teaching position:

tara swipes at students who fall asleep in gale's classes, which he himself doesn't mind. he, too, slept through some of them (like his calishite lessons):

Player: Perhaps that's a good thing. I'm sure they're far better students than I was... Gale: Ah, so you still remember our little lesson? devnote: A little bit bashful, it was a vulnerable moment for him Gale: 'Teaching' you was hardly an effort at all. Not like my present cohort of apprentices. devnote: Complimentary, pulling the thought back to the teaching element after getting lost in the memory of the moment Gale: They try their best, of course - when they can manage to stay awake. devnote: Not upset by this - he slept through his fair share of classes as a student Tara the Tressym: The cheek of them! Nothing a well-placed swipe from Tara can't fix, though.

2. gale offered to teach more subjects than illusion via simulacra:

Player: Only a professor? With your expertise, I'd have thought you could teach every kind of magic going... Gale: I did offer, as a matter of fact. devnote: Secretly glad the player thinks so highly of him Gale: However, the Blackstaff insisted I couldn't teach every subject, nor could the simulacra of myself I offered to create for that purpose. devnote: Reluctantly accepts that this was the right decision Gale: So, I've settled for teaching the art of illusion. Magic to confound the senses, to render the impossible into reality, and to allow expression of that most magical attribute of all - imagination. devnote: Selling it a bit - he wants to make sure you appreciate how cool this is

3. gale has told his students about the player's adventures and will invite a player to be a guest lecturer:

Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you. Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower- Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.

4. his students find him somewhat intimidating due to his backstory with mystra and the orb:

Gale: Well, that was quite lovely. I'm glad you're as pleased to see me as I am you. Gale: I have to say, I'm quite grateful to just be 'Gale' for the evening. Gale: I fear my students find me somewhat intimidating, due to my erm, explosive former reputation. I seem to put the fear of the gods into them. devnote: He plays up to his reputations a bit, so he isn't overly surprised Gale: Or the fear of Mystra, to be more specific. Gale: I surrendered the Crown of Karsus to her, as I told you I would. And in return, she cured me of the orb at last. Gale: Even now, I struggle to put the feeling into words. It was like exhaling for the first time, after holding my breath for so very long. Gale: Of course, I haven't clarified with my students that the orb is no longer a threat. The legend of my explosive capabilities is an excellent means of controlling a classroom. Too good, if anything.

5. he wants to teach his students that there is fun in studying magic:

Gale: I spend most of my time trying to convince them how much fun the study of magic can be, but it'd be easier to crack a smile on an intellect devourer than some of my pupils... devnote: Despairing a little, doesn't understand why they aren't all as passionate as he was Player: Or on a mind flayer, perhaps... Gale: Smiling may no longer come easy to you, but I've seen how your tentacles twitch at my jokes. Even the ones I'm not entirely certain I was trying to make... devnote: Last sentence a tiny bit self-conscious, aware that people sometimes find him ridiculous. Gale: Still, I hoped my students might be a little more open to the playful side of such magic.

anyhow, i hope this was insightful to someone! 🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 patch 5 spoilers #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

489 notes · View notes

itspyon · 5 months

Text

how to adapt into dtblr culture for twitter refugees

so you've decided to move here from twitter. welcome and congratulations. this post is basically a big warning that goes THIS ISN'T TWITTER, DON'T BEHAVE LIKE IT IS, LEAVE THAT AT THE DOOR

i'll be teaching you two things, how the site works, and how to adapt your behavior to tumblr ( and really, normal human being ) culture. believe me, it's not that hard and it will actually feel very productive

let's start with the basics and frequent questions

your username can be anything, don't stress about it

your picture can be anything. a lot of us don't even have dteam related stuff up on our profile

your display name doesn't have to be your name. nobody is going to see it when you post, only usernames are visible

check your settings. do it. get familiar with them. turning on and off asks, turning anon off, turning submissions off. click on your blog, go to blog settings, check things there, go to account, your muted things will be there, go to dashboard and customize that. use your settings !!!

yes, pinned posts are fairly important and they tend to be pretty extensive. name age what you post about ( a lot of people here are multifandom !), just don't overshare ( no locations no trigger lists i beg you ). they also usually have a breakdown of your tags at the end

tags

it's a whole thing. some are actually useful. some are just passive commentary

the tags you put on posts ( both when you made the post and when you're reblogging something ) are both global and hosted on your profile. it's why you'll see things like "nameofperson art" rather than just "art". using just "art" will put you in the promoted tag, in this case

you can use spaces on your tags

usually you will tag what type of post you're making ( art, text post, ask post ), and then the contents keep in mind this is how people often mute things, some people tag the current situation, people use and mute ship tags. but this is also how people find things, like the specific asks from one person to another, so "username ask" is commonly used, "irl person ( dream, dnf, etc )" is also seen a lot just watch how others tag things and copy them. nobody will get offended you took their tag formatting, most of us will appreciate properly tagged posts

you do tag when you reblog people. you use tags to comment on things. don't really use replies unless you're, saying thank you to someone or pointing out a spell mistake or asking to add an option to a poll, etc. we don't do replies, just rb your reply

quick reblog and like deets

post popularity is measured in "notes" which is the sum of replies, reblogs and likes. we don't really care much about numbers here and if you start getting crazy about it people will not like it. this is more of a talking and showing site

you can reblog without tags, feel free to

you can hide your likes. you can and should like as many things as you want. they don't alter any algorithm, since there's none. a like is a "i saw this post" notification to the poster

actually posting

people talk a lot. a fucking lot, and it's something you will have to get used to, because it's very different from twitter

there are no qrts. callouts are looked down upon. breathe. if you don't like something MUTE IT DON'T POST ABOUT IT, because no one is going to listen to any callouts. you will have to learn to live with the fact people like things you don't. this will, with time, make you feel very free

the bulk of posting here is asks, as you might notice soon. asks are fun and encouraged. just don't name drop if you're talking about drama please ?

don't be scared to send asks off anon, this is how people will find you and get to know you really. people are also more likely to reply to you

block bait anons. yes you can block anons. yes it will block every blog they make

culture time

i've said this. tumblr is unserious. drama here is approached very differently and with several less layers of panic. you will see death threats. you will see slurs ( said in non derogatory ways ). you will see jokes about serious topics. you will see people say "i didn't like this" and nobody will care

tumblr is a community of individualism. you will like your own things within the thing we share we like. you might not like dream's music, you might not find irl streams entertaining, as long as you're fucking normal about it ? nobody will care and you're free to express your opinions. people will even come ask you about it and just have a chat. we're here for the same content to some degree

tumblr is also a bunch of people who understand they like another bunch of people. that none of the streamers have stopped being human. so you might see people defend things that, maybe, you'd not have thought to defend before. maybe you're even uncomfortable seeing them defending it. this is something you will experience a lot, and you'll learn to properly deal with it as time passes

because again. no one does callouts here unless it is extremely bad. no one cares if you don't really like them. and they also accept people might and will not like them. and that is fine. and that doesn't make either person horrible. you're just different people. and you don't even have to interact

you want to make friends ? ask people things, compliment people's work, genuinely attempt to make conversation. this is not an impersonal website the way twitter is. people don't care about your opinions because they care about you, and you are more than what you don't like

the more positive and jokey and interactive you are the more people will talk to you. there's no "hitting the algorithm", there's no "engagement", it's just people talking to people. so don't be a neg posting bot, and be a person

you will learn to be less miserable. you learn to stop giving a shit and just do what makes you happy. they cannot get you here. there's no qrts. the few antis you'll find can be blocked and you'll never have to directly interact with one. don't be mean to the people in your own community, even if you disagree

again, you are more than what you don't like. learn to be what you like instead. and leave the dooming at the door

#pyon long post #if you have any questions feel free to ask #i will be happy to attach them with a reblog

459 notes · View notes

venomous-qwille · 10 months

Note

Can you please just tell us what is wrong with ai and why, I can't find anything from actual industry artists ect online through Google just tech bro type articles. All the tech articles are saying it's a good thing, and every pro I follow refuses to explain how or why it's bad. How am I supposed to know something if nobody will teach me and I can't find it myself

I'll start by saying that the reason pro artists are refusing to answer questions about this is because they are tired. Like, I dont know if anyone actually understands just how exhausting it is to have to justify over and over again why the tech companies that are stealing your work and actively seeking to destroy your craft are 'bad, actually'.

I originally wrote a very longform reply to this ask, but in classic tumblr style the whole thing got eaten, so. I do not have the spoons to rewrite all that shit. Here are some of the sources I linked, I particularly recommend stable diffusion litigation for a thorough breakdown of exactly how generative tools work and why that is theft.

youtube

or this video if you are feeling lazy and only want the art-side opening statements:

Everytime you feed someone's work- their art, their writing, their likeness- into Midjourney or Dall-E or Chat GPT you are feeding this monster.

Go forth and educate yourself.

#ai art #asks answered #qwillechatter #for real though guys please dont interact with me about AI #I intended for this to be the last post I'll ever make about it #but tumblr ate it so you miss out on the nice essay #all the sources tell you everything you need to know #Im so fucking tired

818 notes · View notes

phantom-dc · 1 year

Text

A deal with the Ghost King

Part1 Part3 AO3

Bruce was concerned. Last night, the world had been on the brink of destruction. A flaming, Kryptonite meteorite had been on a collision course with Eart. No one was able to handle it, and the League had grown desperate. Many, Bruce included, had brought their friends and families in an attempt to save them. It was then they had agreed to let Constantine summon the mighty Ghost King.

But they had failed. The Ghost King had rejected their offer of souls, and demanded a better offering. The League had scrambled to come up with something valuable enough to please it. But before they could try again, the King had vanished, and the meteorite had been destroyed. After the initial shock and relief had worn off, Constantine had demanded awnsers. Someone had made a deal, but no one knew who. While Batman checked the camera's, Flash asked around if anyone had seen anything. No one had, and the Ghost King's presence interfered with the camera's. A deal had been made with the God of the dead, and no one knew what had been offered. Constantine made it clear that if anyone of the League noticed anything amiss to call him immediatly, and it was well known how much Constantine hates being on call. So Bruce decided to patrol a bit earlier then usual, right after dark. He had been on his balcony, as the sun had just set, casting the city in darkness.

Then the sky was filled with familiar green/blue lights.

----

Red Hood was following the Aurora Borealis on his bike. Jason had been worried when he realised he and Phantom had forgot to exchange phone numbers, but it seems he has no trouble making his presence known. Jason was sure the whole city could see it! Noticing the light rippled from Gotham cemetery outward (because of course a ghost-themed hero would pick that spot) Jason got there so fast he doubted the Flash couldve done better.

When he parked his bike, Phantom had noticed him and waved. When he floated closer however, he seemed confused. 'Wait, you're the Red Hood?' Jason realised he hadn't been wearing his iconic helmet in the Watchtower, and got a bit nervous. Had Phantom been unaware of the blood on his hands? Suprisingly, Phantom got excited: 'That's amazing! You're my favorite hero!' Jason was suprised: 'Really?' 'Yes! So many ghosts found peace because you avenged them. You're like a celebrity in the Realms!' Not used to the praise, Jason switched topics: 'So where do you wanna go? Honestly, it's kinda late and I don't think much is open now.' Phantom apologises. He wasn't certain his aura would have been visible in the sun. But he came prepared! Holding up a picnick basket, he suggest they visit the park chat so they can get to know eachother a bit better. Jason liked the plan. 'Let's go then, ghost boy.'

----

Looks like I'll have to split the date up in different parts! Enjoy the wild goose chase!

Edit: I am no longer tagging as I teached the limit and the story is on AO3, sorry.

@alice-hazelwood @spookytragedyshark @vythika96 @willak @sjrose1216 @shorterthanadverage @bruh-incoming @desertbogwitch @bun-fish @anon-ymous22 @overtherose @dracotheghostdragon @treepainting @the-church-grimm @emotional-otter @zelabee @smilingfox22-blog @vampiredp94 @leftmiraclechaos @impulsiveasshole @babbling-babull @wordsgohere95 @theamazingfox @regressor-marina @raspberry-muffin @scribbiesan-main @satanicrutialspecialist @meira-3919 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @terzatheunderscorerima @some-rotten-nest @wrenofthedumbasses @is-this-even-relatable @olivethetreebitch @my-mom-calls-me-rat @darlingatlas @blazeart @gunebugfic @chaos-n-kindness @elvesandlanterns @asphyxia778 @fantasticbluebirdfan @mj-arts-n-stuff @nappinginhell @slapphapp1 @undead-essence @seraphinedemort @enderglace @wildbacon-blog @mark-the-snark

#batman #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #jason todd #red hood #danny fenton #ghost king danny #dead on main #dp x dc prompt

2K notes · View notes

exhaslo · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 2- Professor! Kakashi x Nurse!Reader

It started out harmless enough. The two of you started in the same month, both confused on a few things about the college and had to guide each orher for help. Then it turned into him popping into your office for a nap on one of the beds every now and then to nearly everyday. This has become routine for you. Making sure there was always a spare bed for Kakashi to hide from his work and take a nap on. It seemed harmless. It felt harmless.

Aside from the gushing crush you had on the man. You and probably every woman in town was head over heels for Kakashi. The man was irresitable. It was a shame that Kakashi had no interest in dating. At least that was the vibe he gave off. No matter how many times you squeezed the thought in, he would just return to his book.

"Oof, what a day." You sighed heavily before looking at the time.

A light ray of crimson coated your cheeks knowing that Kakashi was about to enter. Prepping the bed by your desk, you tried to compose yourself. You were afraid of ruining your friendship with Kakashi if he ever found out about you crushing over him. Just the thought of him straying away from you hurt.

"Are there children around?" Kakashi asked with a loud yawn as he entered the office. A soft chuckle escaped your lips,

"They're not children, per se, but no. You are free to rant."

"Good," He plopped himself on the bed, "They kept asking questions while I was trying to read." He mutteted into the pillow.

"You shouldn't be reading if you're supposed to be teaching."

"I was at a good part."

"You're always at a good part," You laughed. Pulling the blanket over him like a child, you bend down to his level, "Perhaps I should borrow that book? You never let go of it."

Kakashi glanced in your direction. He made eye contact with your (e/c) orbs. They were beautiful. There was the urge to pull you into the bed with him. To engulf you in his embrace. Rolling his head back into the pillow, Kakashi just let you ramble. He didn't want you to see his fluster under his mask. You were never going to read his books. Never.

"Miss (y/n), can you check me, please?" A young man asked.

Kakashi grumbled lowly as you hurried to pull the divider to cover him. He could hear the tone the men gave you. He found it both irritating yet cute how ignorant you were. You were oblivious to how all the men drooled over you. He loved it how you always ignored their advances. You were so good at controlling your emotions, expect towards him. Kakashi saw the side of you that you tried to hide. Your cute little fluster that he could only make you do.

"So (y/n)-"

"Either miss or last name." You corrected the young man. Kakashi turned, wondering where this kid found the balls to call you by your first name.

"I hear you're single-"

"Where were you hurt again?" You asked, trying to do your job.

Kakashi knew where this was going. It was a good thing he learned the art of bullshit while he was younger. Giving the best fake cough anyone has ever heard, Kakashi groaned as he called for you. It even took you by surprise. Kakashi smiled under his mask as he heard you tell the young man to rest when he got to the dorm. Hearing the door close, Kakashi did another cough. You moved the divider and laughed. That smile should only be for him.

"You're so bad." You said with a bright smile. Kakashi's eyes soften,

"That's not what you say to someone's who is sick."

"Awe, my bad. Let me do a check up then."

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

Neither one of you know how, but somehow the Dean found out about Kakashi's little nap times in your office. She had to give you two a small scolding about professionalism. Kakashi was disappointed and so were you. You were going to miss Kakashi's little visits. It was hard for the two of you to hang out after work due to your different positions.

There was one other problem that occurred once the Dean found out. Both students and teachers heard and started to assume things. You had noticed the awkwardness in the air when around the other women. That and a lot of the male students were being quite cold and harsh towards you. It started to hurt. You did nothing wrong, yet it felt like you did.

"Hey, Kakashi, you're not busy, are you?" You asked.

It was a long day for you. You felt more drained than ever. While your day had finally ended, you knew that Kakashi still had a few hours to go. He was sitting at his desk in the teacher's tower. Each professor got their own room for their work and for students to come and ask for help. You had decided to check on him, wondering how he was handling the change. Kakashi raised his head from his work and motioned you in. You closed the door behind you,

"I was wondering when you'd stop by," Kakashi said softly, watching you take a seat on his couch, "You look tired. Normally that's my look."

"I am tired." You sigh, "It just feels like a lot lately."

"Sounds like you need a nap," Kakashi chuckled as he made his way over to you.

Your cheeks flustered as Kakashi stood in front of you. He seemed so tall from this angle. A small gasp escaped your lips as he hovered right over you and pressed something under the couch. Within the second, the couch changed into a bed. You yelped as you laid on your back, staring up at Kakashi in shock. He took his mask off, grinning towards you,

"Ordered it five minutes after Tsunade lectured us." He explained, reading your mind.

"Y-Your mask-" He was gorgeous. Never had anyone seen him without his mask, "W-Why?!"

"Hm? Because you're tired." Was all he said.

It hadn't occurred to you the position you were in. Kakashi was hovering over your body as you laid beneath him on his bed. Your hair was all over the place and your clothes were ruffled from the sudden shock of laying down. Right now, Kakashi could only see you as a meal in front of him. He tossed his mask aside before heading towards the door. You raised your head as he placed a 'Do Not Disturb' sign and proceeded to lock.

"What are you doing?" You asked as your heart started to race a mile a minute. Kakashi crawled onto the bed beside you,

"I'm about to get a check up from the best nurse on campus," Kakashi pulled you towards him, his lips against yours, "I'm not feeling too well."

If your face could burn any redder, it would. Kakashi slid you onto his lap and pressed his lips against yours. It was soft, yet so demanding. His hands reached up to tangle themselves against your (h/l) (h/c) hair. There were sparks. Kakashi licked your lips, wanting to test you. There was no questioning what to do. You allowed yourself to fall into his little trap. Kakashi's tongue explored the dampness of your mouth. This was a new tingly feeling that you were enjoying.

While you were engulfed in the kiss, Kakashi decided to test the waters. He was a man too and it drove him crazy being unable to see you everyday. He was waiting for this moment. For you to come to him. His hands slid down from your head to your waist. With ease, your coat came off and your button down shirt was revealed. His hands stroked up your stomach, earning a mewl from you.

"Kakashi," You gasped, catching your breathe. Kakashi's hand reached your breast, toying with your nipple thru the fabric,

"Told you I'm not feeling too well. I think there is only one cure," He chuckled, enjoying your new expressions towards his touches, "Don't you agree?"

"Mhm, w-well-"

You shivered slightly as Kakashi toyed with your breasts. There was a pool of heat forming betwewn your legs as you felt his bulge grind agaisnt youe clothed pussy. Never would you have thought this to happen, but it was feeling so good.

Kakashi watched you tremble from his touch. It sparked an urge in him to hurry. With swift motion he undid your bra and took one of your nipples in his mouth. While one hand held your waist in place, his other strated to trail down to your wet pussy. Your gasps and mewls were music to his ears.

His fingers stroked your soaked fabric, touching you in places you had only dreamed of. Swiftly, Kakashi laid your back against the bed, unable to hold himself back much longer. His fingers slid past your panties, directly rubbing your clit. His eyes sparkled as you cried out his name, raising your hips ever so slightly.

"(Y/n), can you take care of me?" Kakashi whispered in your ear, poking his fingers against your throbbing hole.

You could only whimper in response as you felt your stomach twist and turn. Kakashi licked his lips before engulf yours once more. He lowered his pants, revealing his cock that was already dripping precum in anticipation. Kakashi fasten his fingers, wanting to prep you before entering. He felt you tighten against his fingers, arching your back as you started to reach your climax.

"K-Kakashiiii," You moaned out, feeling a burning rush burst from you. You took a moment to catch your breathe, watching as Kakashi poked his tip to your hole, "P-Please, put it in" You begged quietly. Kakashi chuckled,

"I thought you were taking care of me?" He teased.

Kakashi held your waist as he continued to push hinself inside your drenched cunt. He told you to relax as you whimpered and whined at the feeling of being stretched out. Your vision started to blur as you felt him fill you. He groaned lowly once he was fully in and took a moment to let you adjust.

You swore you could see stars. Kakashi slowly pulled out, making you feel empty before slamming back into you. His hips making contact with you as the noises you made grew louder. Kakashi silenced you with a kiss, not want anyone else to hear those delicious lewd sounds. Those were for him and him alone.

Another orgasm was brought to you as Kakashi's pace fasten. Every time you sucked him in made his mind go hazy. Oh how he wanted to hear you more. Glancing at the time, Kakashi grunt as he hurried. You cried out as you felt him twitch inside. Begging him to keep going, Kakashi complied. He wrapped his arms around you, gently kissing you before thrusting one last time. Your inside being filled with his cum.

"Kakashi! You better not be napping in there!" Tsunade yelled out as she knocked on the door.

Both you and Kakashi flinched at the sudden yell. With speed, Kakashi fixed you up and hid you under his desk. He fixed the bed and looked for something to spray the room to hide the smell of sex. You resisted a giggle, hearing him struggle before finally answering the door. It was a small conversation before Kakashi closed the door, returning to you.

"You're always welcome to stop by," Kakashi told you, fixing your hair. You wrapped your arms around his waist,

"And help you with your little issue?"

"My personal nurse."

#kakashi x reader #kinktober #kakashi hatake #kakashi sensei #kakashi hakate

542 notes · View notes

writesleah · 7 months

Text

not a chance ✰ m. riddle

➻ pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

➻ genre: angst/fluff

➻ summary: you and mattheo are sworn enemies, but everything changes when he becomes your tutor

➻ warnings: swearing (not loads, but a good few times), my writing lmao, one sex reference, 14 year old hormones :) - that’s all i can really think of, so if you find any more, let me know so i can fix the list!

➻ word count: 1.9k

➻ a/n: this is way longer than i was planning on making it but once i started writing, the words just flowed. this hasn’t been proofread either so i apologise if theres any mistakes that slipped through. i’m also fairly new to writing mattheo, but i’m so obsessed with him right now that i just had to do it for my first published fic!

enemies should never spend time together - that’s just a fact - and mattheo riddle was your worst enemy. you had never met someone more infuriating in your life, someone so incredibly cocky that it made you want to pitch yourself off the astronomy tower. he did all of that for you, and more.

you were in your potions class, watching the hands on the clock tick by every second, every minute, waiting to finally be released from the hell professor snape held you in for a full hour every tuesday and friday.

potions was never really your strong suit, so you knew doing your O.W.L for the class wasn’t going to go so well, but your friends convinced you to go. of course they did.

your eyes darted to the door as you heard it swing open, a boy with curly, brunette hair stalking in.

“you’re late, mr riddle.” snape glared at mattheo, his voice it’s usual stern tone. “forty-five minutes late.”

“sorry, professor. i was helping professor moody with something for defence against the dark arts.” he sneered back, emphasising the fact that mad-eye moody was teaching the class and not snape, who gave him a sharp look before continuing on with his class.

“surprised to see you here.” the familiar voice scoffed as he took a seat on the table next to yours, where all of his friends were conveniently sitting. how pleasant.

“riddle.” you murmured, eyeing him as he took his seat and pulled out his quill.

“awh, greeting me?” he smirked, his head tilting just slightly in a way that was so incredibly frustrating. “did you miss me over the summer?”

you scoffed at the idea, rolling your eyes. “miss you? not so much.”

“ouch. that one hurt, not gonna lie to you.” he laughed to himself, scribbling down the date on the top of his parchment.

“cute.” you spat. you never really bothered to give him full replies, not in the way that he did, unless you felt it was absolutely necessary. “why’d you even turn up? the lesson ends in fifteen minutes.”

“i was going to just skip, but then i remembered my favourite person would be here.” he smiled warmly, though it was laced with that familiar sarcasm you knew all too well.

you give him a small glare, quirking a brow at him. “yeah? who’s that? me?”

“is that a joke?” he scoffed, his expression turning serious as he glared at her. “no, daphne.” he motioned to the girl on his right. you had noticed they had grown closer over the last few weeks of third year, but never really thought much of it. he wasn’t really the type to get into serious relationships, more just little flings or girls he would snog and then never speak to again.

you felt a pang of emotion in your heart, but you weren’t sure why, or what it was. a smirk slowly made its way onto his face as he watched your nose screw up, his brows raising in amusement. “why? you wish it was you?” he laughed again, sarcastically, as always.

“course. whatever will i do now that i know i’m not mattheo riddle’s favourite person?” you scoffed, shaking off the feeling and giving him the glare you always did. why did you care? you didn’t, right?

he gave you a small chuckle in return, before the conversation quickly ended, along with the lesson not so long after.

“miss (y/l/n), mr riddle, please stay seated when everyone else leaves.” snape demanded, causing you to roll your eyes and let out a quiet groan.

when everyone else had left, the professor stalked towards the two of you, eying you both up cautiously before he spoke.

“as you both know, you begin to prepare for your O.W.Ls in fourth year, this year.” he began, the mention of the tests making you want to curl up in a corner and never think again. “given miss (y/l/n)’s frank inability to brew a single potion over the last few years, she will need a tutor to give her any chance of passing the test.”

you screwed your nose up at the slight dig, but continued listening to him nonetheless. “now, mr riddle has proven himself to be quite talented in my class, so he will be your tutor. i trust that i can leave you two here for the hour to begin your first session?”

you groaned loudly, watching a smirk spread on mattheo’s stupid face, but nodded in defeat. “yes, professor.” you mumbled, your head in your hands.

snape swiftly left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

“you reckon we can just lie and say we did the hour?” you murmured, your eyes peeking through your fingers to look at the brunette.

he scoffed quietly. “kind as ever.” he retorted, shaking his head. “you might as well do it. we all know you’re hopeless when it comes to potions, so it might do you some good.”

“myeh, kind as ever.” you mimicked, rolling your eyes. “fine. hurry it up, though.”

he moved to sit next to you, beginning to ask you questions to gauge where you were at with your knowledge in potions. of course, you managed to get every question wrong, or do something that put him off.

“you don’t know anything?” he groaned, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “you’re so fucking stupid, merlin. i’ve never met a fourteen year old girl as dumb as you.”

you furrowed your brows, a small pout on your face. “i’m not stupid. it’s the subject. it doesn’t make any sense.”

“i’m going through first year stuff right now. you’re ridiculous if you think you’re going to pass your O.W.L.” he scoffed, waving his hands around frantically as you laid your head on the table, your tongue between your teeth as you held back a snarky comment.

“whatever.” you groaned. “i give up. i’m expecting myself to fail at this point. i know i will. there is no point in us doing this.”

“i mean… you’re probably right, but you should at least try.” he shrugged slightly, his tone still full of annoyance. you watched his fingers brush through his dark curls, your head tilting just slightly as he did so. his brows furrowed as he looked at you, muttering a small “what?”

“why are you so insistent that i stay with you right now?” you blurted, voicing your thoughts before you could take it back.

he didn’t say anything, glancing away for a moment before looking back at you, his eyes tracing your body just long enough for you to notice. you squirmed slightly at the sudden tension between you, shooting him a dirty look.

“stop looking at me like that. it’s weird.” you spat, attempting to shake off his gaze, if that was even possible.

“like what?” his eyes shot back up to yours, his nose scrunching slightly, his smile frown lines more visible than ever.

“like i’m one of the girls you try to snog up in the astronomy tower. stop it.” you had witnessed and interrupted his shameless make out sessions far too many times, the tower being a place you both frequented, though for reasons of the complete opposite. you went there to be alone, he went there to have company.

his hand shifted to your thigh, landing on top of your pleated school skirt the uniform required you to wear, a smirk on his face. “do you want to be?”

your gaze was fixed on his hand, squirming slightly at the sudden contact, though not making any effort to stop it. “uh, no. not really. what the fuck?” you let out a half-laugh as you looked back up at him, seeing his brows furrow slightly. “what? was that not the right answer? want me to get on my knees and beg for you to make out with me under the stars?”

he scoffed to himself, rolling his eyes. “yeah, you’d definitely do that.” he retorted sarcastically, giving you a small glare.

“you have the wrong idea of me.” you shook your head, biting your lower lip just slightly as you felt his thumb move to the hem of your skirt. “what are you doing?”

“showing you how much i want you.” his voice took on a low and serious tone, before crashing his lips into yours. you didn’t move for a moment, before quickly coming to your senses and shoving him off.

“are you high or something?” you looked him up and down, rubbing your lips together in an attempt to make the strange sensation they held go away.

“no. completely sober. i don’t smoke weed.” he laughed quietly, looking at you in amusement. you gave him a small huff, knowing that he wasn’t exactly telling the truth. “was that your first kiss?”

your lips parted in amusement, the tip of your tongue held just between your front teeth. “what?”

“was that your first kiss?” he repeated, his eyes tracing every inch of your face. “because, no offence, but if it wasn’t, you’re a pretty shit kisser. i doubt you have experience.”

you scoffed at his words, shaking your head with a small pout. “no, it wasn’t my first kiss. it was just ‘shit’, as you so elegantly put it, because i didn’t fucking kiss you back, idiot.” you felt the overwhelming urge to spit as many swear words and insults you could muster at him, but held back when you saw the look in his eyes.

“wanna actually kiss me, then?” he huffed, rolling his eyes, before they settled on the pillowy, pink flesh of your lips.

you hesitated for a moment, before leaning in to give him a small kiss. his lips were soft, and the slow motions gave you a better feel of him than the first kiss. it felt safer, more intimate.

the second you went to pull away, he pulled you in closer, the kiss growing slightly more aggressive. you felt the edge of his fingertips slide just slightly under your skirt, going no further than the edge of the hem. the movement was enough for you to pull away, though.

“riddle…” you whispered, your eyes shooting down to his hand. “look, i don’t know what you get up to with half your little girlfriends, but i don’t wanna, like, do anything, so…” you shrugged slightly.

he looked at you with a furrowed brow for a moment, before letting out a small chuckle, which just confused you further. “oh, wait, no.” he shook his head, which tilted as a sly smirk came across his face. he removed his hand from your thigh and let out another short laugh. “i wasn’t trying to- sorry. yeah, no, i’m in the same boat as you. i may get with a lot of girls, but i’m still fourteen at the end of the day. i’m not really doing anything other than make-outs yet.”

you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding at his words, a small smile settling on your face. “okay, good. i was panicking a bit there.” you added with a single laugh.

it was silent for a while as you both relished in each other’s company, or rather, didn’t know what else to say.

“so…” you spoke up after a couple minutes, your eyes darting back to his, “do we still hate each other?”

he raised his brows in amusement, a small, almost disgusted scoff coming from his mouth.

“not a chance.”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #benjamin wadsworth #fanfic #enemies to lovers #forced proximity

427 notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 3 months

Text

LOST IN OUR VICES | ONE

Chapter Summary | A chance encounter with a handsome stranger sets off a chain of events that could all end in disaster. It's hard to say no when it feels so good though.

Pairing | Professor!Marcus Pike x Student F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | Dubious ethical relationship between a professor & student, Marcus tells a lie, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of academia, academic failure and strained parental relationships, gratuitous descriptions of London because I live here and I love it, some heavy making out and some heavy petting, no use of y/n.

Authors Note | WELL HERE SHE IS. I have no idea how to tell you how much I am loving this so far. Professor Pike has well and truly rotted my brain so y'all have to suffer with me okay? It's gonna be fun, I promise. I would LOVE to know what you all think about this so feel free to scream at me incumbents, reblogs and asks! As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena for reading this over and making sure it isn't utter tripe. ILY. And to @saradika for the beautiful divider.

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s seen her there every day he’s visited the past month. Sitting on the bench, looking up at the same sculpture - a woman carved from marble - sketching into a notepad. He stands this time and watches as her finger tucks some hair behind her ear, brushing it out of her face. She looks up and tilts her head a little, eraser end of her pencil sitting between her teeth as she thinks, tracers a portion of the statue before her head is back down, looking at the page as she continues to draw.

She’s beautiful, there’s no denying it, she’s been beautiful every time he’s seen her. There’s something lonely about her too, the way she sits there on her own, artefacts and artworks for company. She’s just like him really, uprooted from a life he was no longer satisfied with, four years of a PhD and now the letters of Dr before his name. Moved to London, a new city, a fresh start as he’d coined it to his family, but he’s been here three years now, and not one thing that he wanted from his move have materialised. He knows the therapy was good for him, he knows that his haste to find someone was probably what was making him scare people off, but he doesn’t much like the other side of the coin either - a modest flat in London to himself, a small group of friends who sit around and drink beer and droll on about their academic passions, but no-one he can really call his own right now.

Dr. M Pike. Professor of Art History. That’s what his doorplate says, one of many in the small corridor at UCL. Three years and he’s still not quite sure how he made it here, or if it’s really what he wants, but it beats whatever he was doing back in D.C. that’s for sure. It had seemed like the best thing to do at the time, but when Lisbon had told him she wasn’t coming, everything about it seemed wrong, soiled somehow, by the life he’d built in his mind being torn up by someone who, looking back, had never really wanted him in the first place.

He thought about talking to her the first day he’d seen her, but then realised he was actually here to prepare for one of his teaching seminars, so squirrelled himself away to another room instead. The second time he’d seen her, she’d looked too engrossed on whatever she was working on, and then every other time, he’s convinced himself she’s here for peace, not to be bothered by some random man. But there’s something about the way she is today that makes the pull harder to resist, so he says fuck it, shoves his hands into his trouser pockets and walks over.

“You come here often?”

It’s an American accent that pulls you from your work. His voice jolts your hand, makes you press your pencil into paper too hard and at the wrong angle. You suck in a deep breath, try not to think about the hours of work he’s just ruined by startling you. You’re about to turn around and complain when he comes into your vision.

He’s tall, broad shoulders covered in a light dress shirt, two buttons undone so you can see a flash of tanned skin and a smattering of hair. It’s tucked into dark jeans, a belt keeping them tight to his trim waist. And then there’s his face - a beard, but only just and friendly brown eyes, a full mouth too. He’s handsome, there’s no way around it.

“Sorry, that was awful,” The mystery man scratches the back of his neck, “I just come here a lot and I think I’ve seen you here every time for the past month.”

You smile at that, that you’re someone he’s been picking out amongst the crowd of tourists who always come here, someone familiar to him, even if he’s not the same to you.

“I’m just working on something.” You shrug, letting your palm slyly cover the sketch you’ve been making.

The man walks in front of you slightly, takes a seat on the vacant spot on the bench and looks up at the woman carved from marble, “She’s beautiful.” He muses.

“She is.” You agree, looking over the curves of her hips, the way the marble has been carved to make it look like her clothes are wet, sticking to her breasts like she’s just climbed out of the Aegean Sea.

“You like sculpture then?”

“I do,” You nod, turning your body a little towards him, “It’s not my first artistic passion, but I’m studying for my PhD at the moment and it’s all about the female form in marble.”

“Brains as well as beauty,” He smirks a little at you, “Sounds interest though, where are you studying?”

“UCL,” You beam, because you’re proud, it wasn’t easy, you’d been rejected for your first choice research project the first time around, encouraged to choose something else from the feedback, but you were there now, and that’s what mattered, “What about you?” You ask, “What do you do that means you have to be here as much as me?”

He shrugs a little, “I teach.”

It’s vague but you don’t press, he owes you nothing, so you let it lie. You turn back to the sculpture in front of you, when your stomach grumbles. You look down at your watch. It’s 2pm and you’ve not eaten anything yet.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” You reply meekly.

“Want to grab something to eat?” He asks, “I know a great Italian place in Soho if you fancy it?”

You look at him, eyes tightening a little. It’s been so long since anyone has shown you an ounce of interest, and now the beautiful man in a shirt and dress pants wants to take you for lunch, it all seems a bit too good to be true. But, you can hear the voice of your therapist tell you to say yes to more things, take more risks in life because not all of them are going to turn out to be bad, so you flip the front of your notepad over to cover your drawing and reach down to pick up your backpack.

“Lead the way.”

He doesn’t disappoint. Over the course of a glass of wine and a bowl of olives, you coax out his name. It’s Marcus. He’s got a PhD in Art History and moved to London from D.C. three years ago. He lives alone, near Notting Hill, he likes it because he can go searching for antiques on the weekend. He wants a dog, but he spends too much time out of the house to justify one. He likes to read and he can cook, but prefer eating out or ordering in because he’s not mastered the art of cooking for one.

When a waiter sets down your second glass of wine and your food - gnocchi with pesto and bacon for you and carbonara from Marcus, he turns the conversation back to you, sipping wine as he ask you where you live - Willesden Green, so not far from you - who you live with - myself, my dad was so proud I got into my course he pays for my rent, it’s the only way he can show he loves me - what you like to do with your free time - free time? When I have it, I read, or I walk, or I sit and draw sculptures in museums.

You don’t know whether it’s the wine or not, but the dark winter sinks in, outside cloaked in black, lights dimmed inside, and it makes him even more handsome than he was before. He makes you laugh, with his stories of his own PhD stress, how he would walk the streets of D.C. at 3am to get coffee and pancakes on his way back from the library and then collapse into bed and sleep for two hours until his alarm would wake him up and he would go all the way back to the library to do it again.

“If I ever get to that point,” You muse, stabbing a piece of gnocchi onto your fork, “I don’t think I’ll have the will to make it through.”

“You seem far too organised to me to fall into the bad habits I had.” He shrugs, looking at you over his own glass of wine as you take a bite of your food, too busy watching him to really notice the angle of your fork, green sauce smearing on the corner of your mouth as you fight it into your mouth.

Before you have a chance to reach down and grab the napkin from your lap, Marcus is reaching over the table, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the stray sauce away. It’s something that under any other circumstance would make you feel uncomfortable, but all it really makes you want to do is kiss him, especially when he apologises profusely for being so forward.

He pays for dinner, insists on it really, hidden behind the excuse that he knows how hard it is to live whilst studying. He takes you for cocktails at a bar on the end of Old Compton Street - orders himself an old fashioned whilst you opt for an amaretto sour. The bar is dark and busy, the only seats are in a corner, sat so close together your knees are touching and your shoulder is slightly leaned into his side.

“So, you said you got rejected from your first choice course?” He muses, taking a short sip of his drink.

You shrug with a nod, “I wanted to research the impressionist movement,” You start to explain, “I love Monet and Renoir but I think my research application was too broad,” Sipping your own drink you carry on talking, “There’s a great academic at UCL, Professor Pike, I was desperate to have him as my supervisor, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

You turn your head a little, watching as Marcus swallows on nothing, quickly taking another sip of his drink.

“It’s okay,” You hasten to add, “I guess if I’m not writing thousands of words about it, it won’t make me hate what I love most.”

“Smart,” Is what he says with a smirk, “You would have given him a run for his money anyway.”

“Do you know him?” You ask, “I know all of you academic types are familiar with each other.”

He swallows on nothing again, “I’ve heard of him but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

You both order another drink, sit around talking about nothing much at all, slowly moving closer as the bar gets busier, you tell yourself it’s just so you can hear him better, but he smells good, some kind of musky cologne that suits him really well, so you don’t complain about soaking it up.

When it gets late, he offers to take you home, keep you company on the tube. You know it’s not really necessary, you’ve never felt particularly unsafe walking home from the station, but if it means spending more time with him, then you don’t really mind. He lets you take the only free seat on the tube, standing in the aisle just in front of your knees so he can keep talking to you, and when you reach the other side, he walks close to you, puts a hand on your lower back which you can feel through your jacket when a group of people walk past you a little too close. He even insists on walking you to your door.

It’s quiet in the building, like it usually is. It’s only recently been built and you think you’re one of only a few people who are currently living there. You pluck your keys from your coat pocket when you reach your door, leaning your back against it.

“This is me.”

“Nice place.”

“Yeah, although I usually prefer places with more character.”

He’s stood right in front of you, rocking on his heels, that same nervous hand on the back of his neck as this afternoon, “I know this might seem weird, but would you like to go on a date sometime?”

You can help but snort a laugh, shaking your head a little, before you meet his eyes, “This wasn’t a date?” You ask coyly.

He smirks a little, cheeks flushing a little, “Did you want it to be a date?”

“I wouldn’t have let you take me for lunch if I didn’t,” You say, “But there is one thing missing.”

“Oh yeah?” He hums, “What’s that?”

Instead of speaking, you take a step forward, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket as you press up onto your toes and plant your lips on his. It’s clumsy and it’s impulsive, but you’ve wanted to do it all day. You can feel his arms wrapping around your back, dragging your body flush to his as he opens his mouth against yours right as you do the same. He tastes like mint from the gum he’s been chewing and the whisky from his drinks - it’s all you can think about as he walks you back, presses you against the door as his tongue meets with yours.

You’re thankful no-one is around. Your arms move from his jacket to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls there as you tilt your head to one side, a slight smacking sound from your lips as the disconnect, only to come back together seconds later. He’s good at this, you think, as his hands drop from your back to rest in the pockets on the back of your jeans, palms warm through the material. You can feel him squeeze you there a little, and you’re so close to saying fuck it and inviting him in, because if his lips are this good against yours, you can’t imagine what they’d be like in other places.

Marcus is the one that pulls away from you, resting his forehead gently to yours. You’re both breathless and you’re itching to press your mouth back to his.

“I should go.” He breathes against your mouth, pressing his lips to your in a chaste kiss.

“Yeah,” You agree, “You should.”

He steps back, takes the warmth of his palms with him, but reaches in to his pocket and hands his phone to you, “Put your number in here and I’ll call you.”

So you do, press the eleven digits into his phone along with your name and then kiss him once more before he’s turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you with a dull ache between your thighs that you’re working on relieving within five minutes of getting inside. You’re fucked.

Marcus curses himself as he settles into the seat on the bus. It’s late enough that it’s not too busy, no-one sitting next to him as he leans his head back and runs his hand over his face. He already knows he’s fucked up. The words Professor Pike and rejected from my first choice spinning around in his brain as he watches parts of North London flash past the window on his ride home.

Why hadn’t he stopped it then? He knows the rules, knows that even though he doesn’t teach her, any kind of relationships with students, no matter how mature, are off limits. And how is he supposed to keep the facade up now? It’s only a matter of time before she puts two and two together and figures out who he really is.

You’re sweet and you’re smart and you’re fucking beautiful and the best kisser he thinks he’s ever met. You have so much in common with him that it actually hurts him a little and one stupid choice to keep lying to you and the fucking ethics policy are going to keep him from something he thinks would actually be fucking good for him.

He thinks for a second, pulling out his phone and looking at your contact card that he should probably just delete your number. It’s for the best for everyone. He could avoid the museum for a while, keep his head low on campus, he knows he can avoid you. But with his finger hovering over the delete confirmation, he finds he doesn’t have the strength to do it. Stuffs his phone back in his pocket and tries to will his mind to forget the way you’d gasped into his mouth when his hands had squeezed at the swell of your ass, or the way your lips had been soft against his when he’d kissed you.

Then, led in bed, frustrations sorted by his own hand, he picks up his phone and damns himself to hell with a single text.

How about a walk around the National Gallery and dinner this weekend?

#Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fic #Pedro pascal #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #the mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike au #pedro characters #pedrostories

206 notes · View notes

foolishlovers · 2 months

Text

TRANS HUMAN AUs: Below you can find a list of Good Omens human AUs featuring trans characters.

[Requested by anon. You can request more fic recs here.] it’s okay, maybe not forever but we got today by astheworldcomestoanend (G, 1k) Aziraphale’s parents are fighting again, so he goes over to Crowley’s house to spend the night with him. Crowley is more than happy to bring his angel in and make sure he’s okay.

Win Condition by ineffablefool (G, 1k) Human AU. Aziraphale and Crowley's junior high school sets up a really weird school-wide Valentine's Day game that they're both kind of side-eying for different reasons. Talking about it over lunch gives them both the chance to confess something, though!

Belonging by LittleQueerdo (T, 2k) Crowley is woken by a librarian on a mission.

style, flair, and a head of red hair – she’s the nanny?! by lineslines (G, 5k) She takes a step into the light, a vision of red and black, of scant fabric and edges, seizes him in her gaze, which he realizes is almost as fiery as her hair, and drags it up and down his form, once, before she grins. “Oh angel, let me guess, you probably think tartan is stylish?” “Tartan is stylish,” Aziraphale automatically protests, before his brain slowly catches up with his mouth. And his eyes. “Oh, how impolite of me! Please do come in. You must be drenched.” (Crowley just lost her job selling cosmetics to bored rich housewives. Aziraphale is a bored rich bastard in want of a nanny for the neighbor kid he has to babysit. It's a right place, right time situation. Right people, too.)

The Art of Human Nature by IneffableDoll (T, 6k) Crowley is a painter who has only ever had an eye for nature. That is, until a client named Aziraphale commissions her for a painting to boost her self-confidence, and Crowley discovers that her client is as beautiful as the Earth itself. Then she goes and catches feelings, because she’s a disaster. The Colour of Hope and Sin by TawnyOwl95 (E, 7k) Crowley has never felt so pretty. Tonight he can do anything. Having Aziraphale Eastgate, the best defender that St. Beryl's School football team had ever seen, cross Crowley's path again is a chance to test that theory. And maybe they can both work out some latent teenage angst at the same time? A Stable Relationship by MirjamOmens (E, 9k) Crowley used to be one of the best eventing riders of the UK. After one unfortunate fall that crushed his leg, he ends his career and starts coaching other promising athletes. Aziraphale is a riding instructor, handling the school ponies and teaching the beginners. For the past six months they have found themselves in a sort of arrangement. It’s just friendship… and sex, whenever their schedules happen to align. It's nothing more than that, right?

Every Part of Me by foolishlovers (T, 10k) Heartthrob rockstar Antonia Harmonia, better known as Anthony J. Crowley offstage, has safeguarded his singing career from his best friend and long-term crush, Aziraphale, for nearly two decades. But when Aziraphale stumbles upon Crowley’s secret at one of his concerts, Crowley is suddenly confronted with unexpected consequences. Could the best of both worlds be within his reach? A Hannah Montana AU. I'm Beginning to See the Light by ineffabildaddy (E, 15k) There was Crowley - the paragon of cool, the overlord of apathy, breezing easily through each and every one of their exchanges and giving no fucks while doing so; then there was the anachronistic, cloying Aziraphale, trying and failing not to live life like a Thomas Hardy protagonist, and giving many fucks indeed. Or: Aziraphale has quite the pash on his colleague Crowley, who seems resolutely disinterested in him. As their annual Christmas party progresses, it appears that Crowley may not be as disinterested as Aziraphale first thought.

Fifteen Years of Heartache by mondlichtmaus (T, 20k) Crowley was roused from his nap by the sound of somebody opening the door. He didn't move. Maybe they would go away. "Excuse me?" someone called. They weren't going away. Crowley rose, lifting his head to squint at the intruder. A broad figure, silhouetted by the light of the hallway. He couldn't make out his face, eyes still bleary from sleep. Just a halo of light framing his head. "What?" Crowley grumbled. There was a moment of silence, then the intruder spoke again. "Anthony?" They're teachers. They're in love. They're oblivious.

Just Up the Stairs by foolishlovers, ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia (E, 39k) On Valentine's Day, amidst the chaos of handling work and university deadlines as a mature student, Crowley seeks solace with his neighbour Aziraphale. As they share a meal, their long-standing friendship begins to unravel, revealing hidden feelings they've harboured for six months. It's a night that could change everything. Black and White Sunshine by Azira_Amane (E, 58k) "The cotton capital. The Second Summer of Love, the Haçienda. Irwell, Medlock, Irk and Mersey. Elizabeth Gaskell wrote her novels in a lovely little house. Oh. There’s so much to know…" Aziraphale East is, by his own account, a bit of an odd duck - and he's okay with that. He's always been happy in his own skin, in having been a confirmed bachelor his whole life. Everything changes on a work trip from London to Manchester, where he meets the vivacious and stunningly attractive Anthony Crowley. Like the splitting of the atom, Aziraphale is divided - and begins to wonder if it's not too late for love after all. Age, as they say, is but a number.

Tales of Turning Pages by foolishlovers (E, 73k) Every Tuesday, aspiring romance novelist Anthony J. Crowley pays a visit to his local library and the charming angel working there. Every Tuesday, Aziraphale Fell finds himself more and more intrigued by the curious stranger who turns his orderly life as a small-town librarian upside down.

[you can find more fic rec masterposts here]

#hope you'll enjoy these #nothing makes me happier 💜#(shamelessly included my own fics but.. i think that's fair? 😳)#good omens #good omens fics #good omens fanfic #good omens human au #trans crowley #trans aziraphale #genderfluid crowley #agender aziraphale #good omens fic rec #aziracrow #aziracrow fic #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable partners #foolish recs #go fic masterpost

159 notes · View notes

doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou · 3 months

Text

Oiled Paintings

> melissa schemmenti x fem!reader

> requested? nope.

> content/warnings: mentions of arson, R is a closeted french

> a/n: this idea just came to me in the shower 🤷🏻‍♀️ let me know if anyone wants another part lol, and please tell me if the french here is okay enough 😭

“Alright, alright! Hush now!”

Teaching 8th graders the sense of art can either be a joy or a pain in someone’s ass—your ass, to be precise. Fortunately for you, it was both. There were days when the transitioning children were calm, and there were days when they reverted back to their kindergarten selves.

“All of you are required to bring aprons for our next meeting,” you told them as you wrote down a list of things they should bring. “You can also bring spare shirts, preferably dark ones, to top off your uniforms.” You reminded them gently as you watched most of the students write down what you listed on the board.

As you were watching them, a hand shot up from the side. “Miss, what are we doing at our next meeting?” Iya, a bright student who always helped you discipline her classmates, asked.

Giving Iya a smile, you crossed your arms and leaned back. “Remember our last lesson about paintings?” Your students nodded their heads. “Well, we’re going to do oil painting at our next meeting.” You topped off the list with a title that said OIL PAINTING.

A series of wohoo’s and yey’s were met with your announcement. Since you started teaching them how to properly mix paint, they’ve been waiting for an activity that consisted of paint, being dirty, and, of course, being free to paint whatever they wanted to. Raising your hands, you motioned for them to quiet down. “Alright, quiet down. I know everyone is excited—especially you, Jake. But before you leave, I just want everyone to know that I will need you to write what topic you are going to paint, just so we can have it as clean as possible. Just leave it with your last teacher for today.”

Right as you wrapped up your announcement, the bell rang, and the students began to stand and pile up outside the door for lunch. “Good job today, guys! Let’s go.” You gave them their signal to go.

As the last student went down the stairs, you went inside your classroom and prepared your laptop bag to go towards the teacher’s lounge on your floor. Yet, when you entered the lounge, you were met with a balloon on your face.

What in the hell is happening?

You swatted the balloon away and observed the room; it was full of decoration, and Mrs. Microft’s name was printed on a tarp just above the windows. As you read the small words below Mrs. Microft’s name, the information hit you. The elderly math teacher, who somehow harbored a disdain for you, was retiring. You scratched your nape and decided that the woman deserved to be wished off with peace, which included you not showing your face to her and watching it scrunch up with a frown.

Where am I going to take my lunch?

You thought as you travelled down the building with a frown. Not really paying attention, you bumped into Jacob, another 8th grade teacher, who somehow has not even shown his face in the 2nd floor lounge since he began teaching at Abbott. You weren’t even sure he knew your name.

"Hey, Y/N!” Well, he certainly did know your name. “Where are you going?”

Giving Jacob a nervous smile, you held up your lunch bag. “A place for lunch.” This had Jacob raising his eyebrows in curiosity. So, you decided to ease his mind and answered the unasked question. “The 2nd floor teachers are having a farewell party for Mrs. Microft, and since the woman clearly hates me—” You and Jacob walked down the stairs towards the 1st floor lounge. “I decided that stressing her with my face was too much, even for Satan’s cousin.”

Jacob nodded his head as you told him what happened; he didn’t even know that he was leading you to the 1st floor lounge. When you stopped talking, both of you were faced with the lounge’s door. “Well, we’re already at the front of the 1st floor lounge; you can take your lunch here. Although I would warn you—” He opened the door and motioned for you to step closer. “Mr. Morton takes his lunch here, so if he bothers you, just turn your head in another direction.”

Stepping inside, you nodded your head at Jacob. You weren’t really sure as to why he would warn you about Mr. Morton, because the science teacher is a softie towards certain people, and that includes you. "Sure, Mr. Hill, thank you for the heads-up.” The first person you saw inside was, of course, Mr. Morton, who stood up and walked towards you.

Crossing his arms, Mr. Morton raised an eyebrow. “Well, well, well. Look at who the bird brought in.” A minute went by, and Jacob had his breath on hold as he watched Mr. Morton eye you up and down. Yet, as you reciprocated the action towards Mr. Morton, the science teacher gave you a smile and a pat on the shoulder, then went back towards his seat.

Jacob released his breath and huffed before taking your shoulders and guiding you towards his, Janine's, and Gregory’s table. “I knew this seat was going to be taken soon!” He motioned for you to sit down in between him and Janine.

The moment you sat down, Janine was all over you like ants on sugar. “Hi! I’m Janine, Miss Teauges, but you already know that—I'm one of the second grade teachers.” To be honest, you didn’t even know her name, so you were grateful that she said it. “This is Gregory, the first grade teacher. He was a sub before being permanent; apparently, he just waited for the students to warm up to him before telling Ava he wanted to apply for the position permanently." You noticed that Janine waved her hands a lot when she told a story. Gregory tended to just listen to her, even when she spoke over him.

Ah, he’s in love.

However, on the other table, Melissa and Barbara can tell you were getting irritated at Janine’s incessant babbling. And before you decide to stand up and leave the room, Barabara chooses to intervene. "Ah, Janine. I doubt Miss...”

Turning your head and giving Barbara your attention, you replied. “L/N. Y/N L/N. 8th grade teacher, arts.”

Barbara gave you a nod and continued. “I doubt Ms. L/N is interested in how Gregory decided to apply for a permanent position.” With this, Janine gave Barbara a tight-lipped smile and leaned against her chair. Giving Janine a glance, you offered Barbara a grateful nod. “Oh, I’m Mrs. Howard, kindergarten teacher.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Howard.” You gave her a blinding smile and turned to the other teacher beside Barbara. “And Mrs.” The redheaded teacher beside Barbara looked at you with a raised eyebrow and smirked.

“Schemmenti. Melissa Schemmenti. You call me Ms. Schemmenti, capisce?” Melissa—Ms. Schemmenti pointed at you using her fork, making your eyes widen. Giving the redhead a nervous smile, you dug into your lunch box and grabbed your lunch.

Giving her friend a glance at her odd behavior, Barbara cleared her throat and turned back to you. “So, Y/N, why haven’t we seen you before? How many years have you been working here at Abbott?”

Tearing your gaze from Melissa, you gave Barbara a smile as you unpacked your lunch. “Ah, I’ve been here for five years. I teach 8th grade art, so I always spend my time in my classroom.” You finished explaining before taking a bite of your chicken salad.

Melissa watched you as you took a bite of the chicken out of your salad and scrunched up her nose. “Is that Parisian Chicken Salad?” The redhead leaned her back against the table while scrutinizing your lunch.

You finished chewing the chicken before giving her a reply. “Uh, yes.” You gave her a frown while taking your water bottle out of your bag. “You French?” With her assumption, you choked on your water and coughed. Fortunately, you didn’t spit any of it on the table or towards Janine, who watched you banter with Melissa.

Shaking your head frantically, you replied. “No. I just... like French food.” Your answer made Melissa purse her lips and turn her back to you.

Noticing the change in the atmosphere, Jacob asked. “So, Y/N, you didn’t answer Barbara’s question completely.” This made you look at Jacob with gratification in your eyes. As you were about to answer, Mr. Morton beat you to it.

"Y/N, are you down here because of Mrs. Microft?” Mr. Morton asked you without looking up from his phone. The information brought up made Melissa look up from her phone and towards you with an eyebrow raised.

Clearing your throat, you nodded sheepishly. “Uh-huh. Apparently the teachers upstairs are throwing a farewell party for her.” You glanced at Barbara and Melissa to see their reaction. Both of them harbored a shocked expression at what you said. Giving a shrug in their direction, you continued. “Yeah, and because Mrs. Microft doesn’t really like me—” You leaned forward. “She always frowns when she sees my face.” You leaned back. “I thought I'd give her the day and leave her alone.”

Mr. Morton waved your worries aside and scoffed. “If I were you, I wouldn’t give that old hag the satisfaction of having a peaceful day.” Now, he turned his phone off and leaned back against the couch, then looked at you. “Remember that day when you found your paint brushes cut to pieces and broken into two?” You nodded at this.

Remembering that day, you walked into your classroom to find all of the paint brushes that the children had used the day before were either broken or ruined to oblivion. After cleaning the brushes up and wiping your tears while doing so, you talked to Ava to let her see the CCTV tape just outside your classroom, but she told you that the CCTV cameras didn’t work on the second floor. The talk only lasted for five minutes before Ava kicked you out, and Mr. Johnson found you crying in the janitor’s closet. That’s how you formed a bond with the janitor; the whole day you spent your vacancies with him, learning why and how the songs in the panel box were only from Boyz II Men. Though you didn’t get to know his first name that day.

“What does it have to do with Mrs. Microft?” Jacob gave Mr. Morton an exasperated look. The question also made you frown until you pieced it together.

“That fucking bitch.” You slammed your fist on the table, shocking Janine and Gregory and making Jacob jump.

“Woah there, language, missy.” Barbara waved her hands towards you in an attempt to calm you down.

“Je brûlerai ses affaires, puis je la ferai regarder du deuxième étage.” I will burn her things down, then have her watch it from up on the second floor.

“And you tell me you aren’t French, french fry.” Melissa gave you a smirk, putting her chin on her hand and watching you flare up with anger.

Choosing to ignore Melissa’s teasing, you packed up your lunch without finishing it and stood up. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” You asked Mr. Morton. In return, he gave you a shrug and went back to his phone. Letting out a scoff, you stomped towards the door to leave.

“Where are you going?” You heard Jacob shout as you grabbed the door handle.

“To burn her things down.” Then you left. Although you did try to close the door brusquely, the latch didn’t let you.

As you left, you didn’t notice Melissa’s gaze towards you turn from interest to pure adoration. But Barbara, knowing her friend, noticed everything. Yet she let Melissa turn to face her fully before giving the redhead a light kick on the shin. “What?” Melissa whispered.

“You like her.”

This made Melissa frown and give Barbara an incredulous look, then replied. “Given how she responded to the information that Mrs. Microft was ruining her things, I do like her.”

Shaking her head, Barbara gave Melissa a playful smile and leaned towards the redhead. “You like like her.”

Barbara’s sentence made Melissa shake her head frantically. “No! I just like her as a future friend.” But Melissa’s reply only made Barbara’s grin widen.

“That’s what she said.”

Protecting French Fry (2)

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #barbara howard #jacob hill #lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter

288 notes · View notes

drawnfamiliarfaces · 4 months

Note

I’ve been simping over your ‘human’ Nomicon design since it came out in Ninja-November. If you have any headcanons about them, would you please share?

ah, a fellow monster/eldritch horror enjoyer I see! thank you! <3 tbh that Nomicon design was like an one day revelation, because while I love all the human!Nomi designs I've seen over the years (and there are some banger ones, man), it hit me that we as a fandom really underutilize all the uncanny aspects Nomi possesses. So ye. I do have a couple hc.

Nomicon is an entity that doesn't have its own face and voice.

Whenever Nomicon talks to Randy it uses proxies in form of art/images/drawings/scribbles/writings. It gives strangely non-verbal vibes for something so cryptically eloquent! And whenever it does use a voice, its voice of the First Ninja (or more accurately his VA xD) , its first owner/wielder. When it uses a face, its usually the static/unmoving marble-like faces of Art or silly pen scribbles - both of which hold that uncanny valley look of something that looks human but really isn't. Not to mention the fact that it once literally stole Randy's face/body to teach him a lesson.

I like to think that Nomicon has a library of faces/visages/voices it can take on, but all of them are creepily unsettling because - what would a book know about how to be human? It's face moves wrong, the eyes are too wide open, its body is creepily still, the voice uses inflections like its copying someone else (and sometimes voice warbles and changes/overlaps with other voices because it has so many).

All of it gives these fae/cryptid vibes of creatures that steal voices/faces to trick people, but in this case Nomicon collects those faces/voices from its owners along with their memories (which is another messed up thing we collectively forget is very creepy lol).

Nomicon is an entity that doesn't have a body, and most importantly - hands.

The reason I gave Nomicon so many shadow hands is because, well, Nomicon is a book. Hands hold those books, so the hands are very important to Nomi. All those shadow hands? Are memories of all the hands that held it (mostly previous Ninjas, but also the Creep and some others). It remembers everyone who held it.

The fit- the hat and the cape are kind of obvious, it look like center of the cover and the cape looks like covers on either side with pages underneath. The weirdest addition I made - is the spaghetti noodle-doodle 'hair'.

It constantly fascinates me that Nomicon, besides the Greek Key/9 motif, has those sort of concentration circles that are also present during Mask/Suit transformation. It gave me thought of sort of weird halos i guess?? Which adds to creepy vibe, but in this case its biblically accurate angel / holy deity type of vibes.

Nomicon has very basic understanding of humanity.

For all the experiences/memories/personalities it was created from and it absorbed over the years, human things are a rather alien concept for the book. It's the reason Nomicon is so bad at its timing whenever it buzzes Randy. It just doesnt care that you are at school Randy, its trying to teach you how to be a better ninja!!! In some sense, it absorbed the most prevalent quality of First Ninja - the dedication to duty, the whole reason for its existence - to serve Ninjas to be the best they can. So, such human/mortal things as good grades/video games/a good nights sleep are very nebulous concepts to it.

Less of a hc but more of an observation/gripe but-

COME ON ITS NAME??? Ninjanomicon as in Ninjanecronomicon??? Because lets be honest its not just a book/guide for Ninjas its a book full of DEAD NINJAS??? LIKE??? In some sense all previous Ninjas, when they go through Ultimate Lesson, 'die' in the real world (because they are no longer Ninjas) and are preserved in Nomicon. And First is like deadass dead? (Plop plop too lol). So I feel like there should be more creepiness about that.

Anyway thats basically most of it, and sorry for silly doodles but i cant really draw creepy stuff xD

#que?#rc9gn #ninjanomicon #can i even tag it #human!ninjanomicon #honestly its more #cryptid!ninjanomicon #listen: do i simp for every hot human!nomi design?? ye??? im only human lol im weak #but i do feel like creepy cryptid nomicon that is tasked with watching/teaching ninja teenagers has a lot of potential #like imagine cryptid!nomi while being wise is also not really understanding basic human stuff and every wielder teaches it something new #im kinda channeling all those hcs about urban legends/cryptids making friends with humans and learning human things (tm)#but there is also this tang of angst because every 4 or so years Nomi looses its humans ;( so sad

196 notes · View notes

ddollfface · 3 months

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

Trigger Warnings; bad writing, lovesick behavior, reader is called 'my girl' multiple times, reader is described as more 'curvy' (in LoveSick!Bimbo's specifically), fluffy, nothing too bad. If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Hey, I'm sorry I've been so absent recently, but that's just because of personal issues. And I'd also like to say that I'm not going to be the most active writer on the app, sooo um sorry 'bout that. I'm just not very motivated to really do anything, so yeah. I hope ya'll enjoy :)))

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘼𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚

All of the Above. Any way he can show you affection, he will. Nothing is holding him back from hugging you, kissing you, or holding your hand. He has no fear. I mean, what are you going to do? Push him away? Yeah, right. And this is when his ego gets in the way. He can't comprehend why you wouldn't want to touch him, besides, he wants to touch you! He wants to love you, hold you, and protect you! Why wouldn't you want that?

He also enjoys buying you things. Whether it be a fancy dress, some makeup, paint, hell, it can even be a football or something! He doesn't judge (though he'd prefer you to be pliant, little you, someone he can protect). If you need something, whether it be for classes, a hobby, or anything of the sort, he'll pay for it! First date? Nope, don't even reach into your bag; he's got you! Want a coffee/tea/etc.? Babe, I better not see your card out right now. Who do you think I am? A bum? I take care of my girl.

He likes spending time with you, too. You're practically his best friend, after all! He likes to bring you to his practices, and games, wanting you to watch him. The majority of the time, whenever you're there, he'll purposefully show off, wanting you to know that he's husband material! He can protect you and your future children, don't worry! Just let him take care of you!

But he'll also come to any events you're a part of. Say you do theater, he's coming to every performance, the same if you do any performing art. If you do a sport (he'd be ecstatic btw), then he's coming to your practices, teaching different tips and tricks, and most importantly, he's giving you a "good luck kiss" (as he likes to call them). And if you're an artist or some sort, then he'll offer to be a model for you. He's not afraid to strip if it's for you. No matter how far you two are in the relationship, there's no hesitation in his voice when he looks at you, snarkily saying, C'mon sweets, paint me like I'm one of your French girls, yeah?

His affection doesn't stop there. I've dabbled in this concept before, but LoveSick!Athlete also loves to call you nicknames, and they're never-ending. He'll think of a new one for you every day! Honestly, it's interesting to see what he'll think of next. He has a wide variety and they span from how pretty you are, to your ass, and back to your sweet personality!

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙋𝙤𝙚𝙩

Gift Giving. LoveSick!Poet is far too nervous to talk to you. He'd shit himself if he ever called you something sweet like 'baby' or 'sweetheart', he thinks that his heart would implode. That's far too much for him. You're too much for him, too good to him, so he resorts to giving, giving, giving. He'll sneak you little poems he made about you, all flustered when you compliment his writing, how good he is. He'll get you a bouquet of flowers, all purple lilacs. LoveSick!Poet will go down to the nearest bakery, your favorite bakery, and leave you a small box of conchas, a sticky note stuck to the top of the box. It read 'I love your dress today, it looks beautiful on you :)'. He's so sweet, isn't he?

Quality Time. Similar to gift giving, it's a way for him to be affectionate without facing you. LoveSick!Poet doesn't have the best image of himself, finding your relationship with him to be a miracle, something to be worshiped, and admired. You want to go to the mall? Okay, he's on his way. Want to go out to eat? Where? When? He'll be there, but bare with him. He's not the most well-off man in New York, money's tight, right? And don't get him wrong, he feels bad. He'll constantly tell you so, going on about how he really wants to take care of you. And I'm sorry that I can't take you to the East Side, and we're stuck at the small cafe... I want to treat you, you really deserve the best, d-darling...

He just enjoys your presence overall, so any time he spends with you is a good time for him. LoveSick!Poet doesn't mind just sitting in silence, watching you do what you love. If you work at a cafe, restaurant, or anything of the sort, he'll show up to your work and just watch you do your thing. Depending on how you take his constant staring, he'll ask you for your number or how you're doing. He'll order something and have some, albeit awkward, small talk with you, wanting to know that you're doing well.

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘽𝙞𝙢𝙗𝙤

Physical Affection. LoveSick!Bimbo is very, very, very affectionate with most people, but it's doubled whenever she's around you. Honestly, she can't help herself. She has to be touching you at some point. She just finds you to be so adorable! She wants to show her appreciation for you and your body! Of course, she'll always let you cop a feel, if you want.

She wants to have a hand on your thigh, intertwine your fingers, and even hug you. She'll always have her chest pressed against your arm, not matter you height. And believe me, she's a tall girl, but she doesn't seem to mind the stares you get from men and some women.

Verbal Affection. Not only is she physically affectionate, but she's also very sweet with her words. No matter what time of day it is, or where she is, she'll always be calling you some sweet name. She likes to compliment you and your body, making sure you're never feeling insecure. After all, she can't have her darling feeling bad about themselves when they look like that! You're always beautiful and she'll make sure you know it. She can't help but let compliments slip out, saying how your body is just so perfect! You're literally like my missing puzzle piece, babes! Like what would I do without ya' curves!!

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙

Verbal Affection. Now, she's not complimenting you constantly (like LoveSick!Athlete and LoveSick!Bimbo), but she does give you affirmations. If you did well on a test, then she'll tell you how you're so smart. I'm just so lucky I got stuck with a sweet girl like you. You make me so proud.

She'll never hold back saying 'I love you', nope, never. She's very caring in that sense, seeing as you've been friends for so long. She knows what you like, after watching you and your exes interact. LoveSick!Friend isn't afraid to pat your head and kiss you on the cheek, but it's not her go-to, y'know? So she always falls back on giving you assurance, that way you'll never doubt yourself. You're doing so great, babe. Just keep doing what you're doing, I'm here to help.

Acts of Service. LoveSick!Friend washes the dishes, does the laundry, and cooks the dinners. If you're ever feeling under the weather, then she'll become your little servant, always at your beck and call. She just wants you to be taken care of. She wants you to know that she's always going to be there for you, and you don't need some man to be here. All you need is her, so you should just delete that dating app, no?

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩

Verbal Affection. LoveSick!Artist is sweet with his words, knowing just what to say to get you all flustered and embarrassed. His voice is deep, soft, and comforting. He'll give you reassurance and soft words, speaking softly to you. He doesn't call you pet names too often, though he'll sometimes pull out 'sweets' or 'baby' if he's feeling extra nice that day. Most of the time, he prefers to use your name, finding it to be comforting. He likes your name, pleased by how the syllables roll off his tongue. It's the name for you, he prefers that you use his given name, instead of 'babe' or 'bubba'. It makes him feel closer to you and he'll tell you that. He'll go on about how, y'know, you're voice is real sweet, just prefer hearin' ya' say my name all the time. Makes a guy all giddy inside.

Gift giving. He likes to draw you, a lot. Whenever you pop into his mind, which is every waking second, he'll draw you, having to express his thoughts somehow. Sometimes, he'll have you right in front of him, modeling for him.

He likes to give you these drawings, well, only the PG ones. After all, he doesn't think you'd be able to handle it, getting too flustered and overwhelmed by how detailed he can get. But that's not the point, the point is that he likes to draw you, and for you. He draws the world around him and then gives it to you, wanting to share his talent with you. And you're always excited about it, enjoying your boy/friend's (depending on the timeline) talent.

Quality Time. Listen, LoveSick!Artist is very monotone, preferring to be calm, and by himself. He doesn't like parties, being in big groups, or loud music. He just wants to be with his close friends, you. It doesn't have to be a shared activity, where the two of you are talking. Actually, he prefers to do his own thing, and you do yours, just the both of you enjoying each other's presence. He'll be painting and you'll be doing homework, cleaning, reading, writing, whatever. He doesn't care too much.

It's like that one friend, the one where you can not talk for months and months, but when you two reunite, you're acting as if nothing changed. That's exactly how he treats your relationship. He doesn't need to be with you 24/7, if anything, he prefers to have some alone time.

Now, for this last part, I'm not too sure what category this would be under, but LoveSick!Artist is quite built, meaning he works out a lot. He's very strong. And he gives off scary dog privileges, much to your content. He enjoys protecting you, holding you close, and making sure no man is giving you any funny looks.

I think that may be described as physical affection, but it still doesn't feel right to me. LoveSick!Artist isn't necessarily the most touchy person, seeing as he likes to keep to himself, but that won't stop him from getting possessive. He's very, very, very aggressive towards other men, especially when you're involved. He already doesn't trust men, but when he sees the way they look at you, it causes him to spiral. Out of all my LoveSick!Characters, I think that LoveSick!Artist is the most likely to kill in your name. C'mon don't be like that, did ya' see how he was looking at you? Like a piece of meat, is what.

182 notes · View notes