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nutmeggery · 8 months

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I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.

When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.

But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)

I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...

See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.

I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.

While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?

Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.

It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.

And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.

It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.

And by a few minutes I meant a few days.

More than a few, actually.

I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.

But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.

Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.

Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).

And I'm having a wonderful time.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 #neil gaiman #im queer and emotional #NEIL LIKED IT?!#asdsdksfksnvkjdnvdkjvd

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art · 6 months

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Creator Spotlight: GDBee Art (@prinnay)

Geneva Bowers is inspired by the wonders of the natural world around us, and enjoys manipulating colors to create art full of mood and feelings.

Check out our interview with Geneva below!

How did you get started with art? Did you originally have a background in art?

I’m going to say yes because that’s all I’ve known how to do. It started because I wanted to draw better horses than my sister, and it just spiraled from there. People started asking me to draw things because they saw me drawing horses. I was like, well, I can draw things that aren’t horses, and then it was just kind of all I did.

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

I have one right now! Honestly, with time, and I also collect art books; I think I have a couple hundred. If I really want to draw something, then I just flip through those and try to steal some ideas.

Which three famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I mean, of course Van Gogh…I’m really inspired by Impressionism and Post-Impressionism, so I would invite Van Gogh, Monet, and Julie Dillon to a dinner party.

Have you ever wanted to dive into another medium before?

Yeah, actually, I currently am! I’m trying to do more traditional painting. I used to do a lot of acrylics, but I haven’t done it in years, and now I’m kind of bad at it. I’m trying to get into actual impressionistic art with oils and oil pastels. I’m like failing, but you know, you get there. Just fail until it looks presentable.

If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?

I guess it’s more of a feeling. I create art because I’m inspired by things around me, like certain video games. For example, I have been inspired by a Japanese RPG called Chrono Cross on PlayStation 1. They make me feel a certain type of inspiration to create something, so that’s kind of like what I’m hoping to leave behind.

Have any of your projects surprised you with their outcome?

Yeah! I did this Weapon Faerie series where I took three prompts: a weapon, a winged insect, and an herb, which I combined to make different characters. So, a faerie with a spiked club or a butterfly faerie with a katana. I made 13 of those, and they kind of took off! I wasn’t expecting that at all.

What is the hardest part of your process?

My whole art style is coloring, like the way it’s colored… but I hate the coloring process, haha. I like doing the color combos, but I don’t like the blending and shading. That takes like one-trillion years. It’s the part where I’m most likely to give up. You know how art kind of looks ugly before it looks good? I’m trying to trust that process.

What do you wish you knew when you started creating art that you know now?

I guess one big thing would be knowing how to use lights and darks. When I do color, it is definitely colorful, but when you switch it to black and white, you see that everything’s the same tone of gray. I’ve learned that if you just use some brighter colors and some darker shades, you create a bigger impact in the end. So, now, when I paint something digital, I make it black and white for a moment to see where all the hues are, and if something is weirdly dark or not dark enough, I can change it.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

Oh, @feefal definitely inspires me. She does a lot of spooky art.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #gdbee art #prinnay #nycc 2023 #tumblr nycc #nycc

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abyssruler · 7 months

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a dummy’s guide to dating your crush, by lyney

lyney x gn!reader

lyney has loved you from the moment your childish small hands found each other for the first time and never let go. it’s just too bad that you don’t feel the same way, but that was fine, lyney has mastered the art of pretending. or — the one where lyney tries, and fails, to set up a few dates with you, and inadvertently wins your heart in the process.

childhood friends to lovers-ish, delulu lyney, one-sided crush, jealous lyney, slight neuvillette x reader

You and Lyney have always been close, even as children living beneath roof of the hearth and Father’s careful guidance. You were one of the first children to accept him and Lynette when they were still strangers in a new, unfamiliar place.

You were the first person to hold his hand apart from his sister, a brightness to your eyes as you led him to a secret nook that you claimed would be a hiding place for only you and him. You were the first person to make him laugh after a failed mission, the first person who held him as he cried silent tears that he’d tried to hide from his siblings, the first person who kissed his cheek and promised to ease the burden on his shoulders.

You’re the first person he’s loved that isn’t explicitly family, though that isn’t quite right either, because you are family. Not in the same way Lynette and Freminet are family to him, but family in the way two close friends are family—family in the way a man might consider his spouse family.

And it feels almost natural to come to such a conclusion. Like flicking on a light switch and realizing that little has changed save for the fact that he now sees so much more. After all, why shouldn’t his natural conclusion be that you two belonged together the way two spouses would?

You’ve always been close, know each others’ secrets, have each others’ backs, and so much more. It’s a relationship built from years and years of trust and affection, and really, can he be blamed for thinking that your shared history must mean something more? That it has set the foundations for a love so great it could rival romance novels? You’ve known each other since you were children, would and have killed for each other, and he imagines if he asks you if you love him, you would say yes. Never mind the specifics of whether that love was romantic or familial, what mattered was that you would say you love him.

Lyney is so far gone in his delusions and fantasies that he fails to see the glaring fact that he pointedly refuses to acknowledge, the glaring fact that everyone but him has made peace with, because you never go a day without telling everyone how much you like—

“Monsieur Neuvillette!” you call out, a smile lighting up your features as you turned away from Lyney to face the man, the myth, the legend himself.

Neuvillette, also known as the bane of Lyney’s existence.

✧

The proper, rational thing to do was to ask you out on a date, a bouquet of flowers in hand as he invited you to a high-end restaurant or to watch one of the operas showing that night. But, as Lynette would say, when has Lyney ever been rational?

So, he reserved a seat at restaurant that he heard from the grapevine was a popular spot for couples, bragging to the receptionist how he was bringing a date that night. And if he made sure to make his voice come off a little louder, to make his presence more known? Well, it certainly had nothing to do with him wanting rumors to spread of him taking you out on a date in a restaurant well-known for hosting couples. Nope.

“I believe this is your date, Monsieur Lyney?” the receptionist from before asks, a knowing look in her eyes as her gaze darted to yours and Lyney’s clasped hands. He nods in response.

“Monsieur Lyney,” you whispered to him with a teasing laugh that sent his stomach rolling pleasantly—that was, until you realized what the receptionist actually said. “Wait a minute, date?”

Lyney laughs off your confused look, pretending not to have heard the latter part of your statement.

“I hear they serve your favorite dessert here,” he says in a rather horrible attempt at changing the topic that would have had Lynette staring at him with unimpressed eyes. Thankfully, you’re not as sharp as his sister, and thus, more easily distracted by the prospect of delicious food.

Once you’re seated at the table that Lyney had made sure was facing the windows, offering a view of the vast ocean outside, he takes the time to appreciate the much better view in front of him: you with furrowed brows as you squinted at the letters on the menu, your lips jutted out in consideration, a serious look in your eyes like you’re about to decide the fate of the world instead of what you’ll have for dinner.

Lyney finds it all endearing.

He opens his mouth to ask you something—but then he promptly closes it shut when the distant baritones of a voice reaches his ears. Familiar, deep, and so very unwelcome.

Evidently, you hear it too, because the menu on your hands is forgotten in favor of a wide grin that isn’t directed at Lyney, no, you turn your head—swivel, more like—so quickly he almost fears for the state of your neck.

He doesn’t need to turn to know just who that voice belongs to, but the sheer happiness in the tone of your voice is unmistakeable as you raised a hand in greeting for the man who continues to haunt Lyney’s nightmares.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, it’s been a while since I last saw you!”

A while, yes, if six hours ago could be considered a while. Lyney would know, he’d been crouched on top of the tree that overlooked you and Neuvillette as you sat on a bench and spoke in an almost friendly manner. Freminet hadn’t been happy to be dragged into what his younger brother dubbed was a gross violation of your privacy, but it wasn’t a violation of your privacy when you were out in public where any passing stranger could see you. If you asked Lyney, he was only making sure Neuvillette didn’t do anything untoward towards you, like smiling at you, or talking to you, or just being within a hundred-meter wide vicinity of you.

Unfortunately for Lyney, the esteemed Chief Justice of Fontaine did all those things. And as if that wasn’t enough, he even grazed his fingers over your hair when a stray leaf landed on it! Truly a vile man, abusing his authority in order to get close to you and touch your hair, smiling and talking to you as if Lyney didn’t exist. Lyney, who’s known you since you were children. Lyney, who brushed your hair every morning and did everything you asked without hesitation.

Lyney, who was your soulmate!

“Lyney, you wouldn’t mind if the Monsieur sat with us, would you?”

And now Neuvillette had the gall to insert himself in, when Lyney had planned this to be a romantic date for two, not three.

He knows if he said no you wouldn’t push the issue anymore, but you’re looking at him with such hopeful eyes, even clasping your hands together to your chest, that Lyney can hardly find it in himself to say no.

For the rest of the night, he’s forced to endure watching you and Neuvillette make easy conversation while he silently stabs at his steak. He wonders which god he must have offended to make him feel like a third wheel in the date that he himself planned.

✧

It becomes a reoccurring trend.

Lyney would ask you to meet with him, either at the park or by the fountains or in the opera or merely at one of his magic shows—though he never specifically tells you that it’s a date. And before he could make any sort of move to indicate that he feels more for you than a childhood friend should, Neuvillette arrives and takes up all your attention.

It doesn’t seem to be intentional, or even a malicious act. The Chief Justice always seems pleasantly surprised to see you, and he’s never rude to Lyney. It’s just that…

“Monsieur Neuvillette, do you think these flowers would look good displayed by my window?”

The man in question seems to ponder deeply over your words, regarding the bouquet in your hands seriously as though it were a matter of life and death. Lyney remains standing behind the two of you, feeling a little out of place, as though he were the one intruding on Neuvillette’s time with you instead of the other way around.

“Yes, they would fit well with the general backdrop of Fontaine. Although personally,” Neuvillette plucks a single flower from the bundle and places it on your hair, “I think they would look best displayed like this on you.”

Lyney’s jaw drops to the floor. His eyes bulge out of their sockets. His hair begins to fall one by one until his bald head is left shining in the mid-afternoon sun.

I think they would look best displayed like this on you.

Neuvillette’s words keep repeating in his head like a particularly annoying fly buzzing around his ear, taunting him with the fact that while he may hold you freely and spend as much time with you as he can, he will never be the man who so easily captures your attention and keeps it.

You’re smiling, a bashful tint to your eyes as you looked up at Neuvillette beneath your lashes, fingers touching the petals of the flower now nestled in your hair.

It’s a sickeningly romantic scene, like something out of a play or movie or song. Lyney wants to claw his eyes out, though mostly he wants to snatch that flower off your hair and replace it with a rainbow rose, his signature flower. His.

Lyney takes a single step forward to interject, to insert himself into the conversation and make himself known, to keep you from looking at Neuvillette with those eyes that should be directed at him.

But before he can utter a single word, you move to pluck a flower from the bouquet and place it behind Neuvillette’s ear, a mirror image to the one he placed on you.

And it’s like watching something inevitable, like being a bystander to someone else’s story.

Lyney sees you laugh at something Neuvillette says in a tone too low for him to hear, but the happiness and brightness radiating off of you is unmistakable. There’s a bounce to your step as you lead Neuvillette away to whatever store has tickled your fancy, a brief glance thrown in Lyney’s way to make sure he’s still there. An afterthought at best.

As he watches you and Neuvillette parse through the menu of a cafe, the two of you standing so close that a fly would be hard-pressed to find a way between, he comes to the realization that there isn’t space left for him, that just as he thought before, he was the intruder here. The third wheel of a bicycle, the extra cog in a machine, a piece in a puzzle that doesn’t fit.

And it’s painful to acknowledge his own insignificance, but the truth has always been right in front of him, taunting him with your besotted look that isn’t directed at him.

He stands there quietly, thinking to himself that if he were in a play, this would be the prelude to the climax, the one where the unwanted third party finally leaves and allows the two lovers to be together.

So he does just that.

He bids you goodbye, claiming an excuse about promising Lynette to rehearse for their latest show. You’re sad to see him go, but it’s overshadowed by the smile that blooms on your lips when your eyes moves past him and onto Neuvillette. He watches it all with an acceptance akin to a man walking to the executioner’s block.

Lyney leaves, resignation heavy on his chest.

(He doesn’t see the sympathetic pair of eyes that follow his back as he walks away.)

✧

It had been relatively sunny outside that morning, only for a torrential downpour to begin that afternoon. It was during that sudden rainstorm that you knocked on the entrance to the house Lyney and Lynette live in, utterly drenched from the rain with a melancholic smile on your face.

Before Lyney could even begin to tell you to come in and ask you what’s wrong, you beat him to it.

“I confessed my feelings for Monsieur Neuvillette.”

And Lyney feels himself stiffen, limbs locking in place from where he’s half leaning on the doorway, half gesturing for you to enter his home.

He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised about it. He should have seen this coming from miles away—have seen this coming from miles away, he’d simply refused to believe what had always been in front of him. But for your feelings to go that deep that you’d confess…

Before he can fall down into an unending spiral of despair and self-recrimination, you once again upturn his whole word with a few measly words.

“He rejected me though.” You laugh to yourself, more self-depreciating than anything. “And… I suppose it was a bit presumptuous of me to assume that he liked me back.”

There’s a sadness to your eyes that Lyney hasn’t seen since you were children, having seen your first death. And now that same sadness is painted across your face, all because of one man who didn’t see the treasure that was right in front of him.

Lyney would have never done that to you.

But all of that matters little now, because you’re here standing in his doorsteps covered in rainwater, seeking comfort in him instead of anyone else. So, really, what else is he to do but step close and wrap you in his arms? Heedless of the fact that he’ll be getting his clothes wet.

You bury your face in his shoulder, reciprocating the embrace, your arms around him as familiar a sensation as the feeling of the wind on his cheeks and Lynette’s presence by his side. Constant. Something he will always remember.

“Perhaps it’s for the best,” you murmur despondently. “He is the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and I… we are Fatui.”

Lyney feels a jolt of something zip through him at the mention of we, because yes, it has always been you and him (and Lynette and Freminet), him and you. The Magician and his most avid watcher. We, we, we.

So Lyney smiles despite your obvious heartbreak at Neuvillette’s rejection. A part of him knows he shouldn’t be thinking such things when you’re clearly upset, but it’s hard not to do so when his chest has felt the lightest it’s been in weeks.

Is he thankful that Neuvillette rejected you? No, of course not. Not when it’s brought about a melancholic sheen in your eyes and a downcast turn to your lips. But neither is he entirely against Neuvillette’s rejection of you.

He cards his fingers through your hair the same way you used to do with his, back when he still hadn’t quite mastered the art of carefully coiling his hair so that it won’t get in his face.

You eventually pull away, a look of acceptance on your face. Lyney doesn’t think much of it when he reaches out to grab your hand, it’s when you intertwine your fingers together that all thoughts and rationality promptly go out the window.

He wants you so much, and now that you’re finally here, here without anyone to hold him back, he’ll allow himself this one impulsive decision.

“Lyney, thank—”

“What do you say about lunch tomorrow? My treat,” he blurts out, only to immediately flush red when he realizes what he’s just said.

You pause, eyes blinking rapidly for a few moments before you crane your head and look at him, really look at him.

Beyond the mischievous smiles and the lenses of a childhood gone by, beyond the little acts of affection that you’d thought was common between friends—beyond everything that used to color your perception of him, stands someone who is looking at you as though you’re the only person in the entire world who matters. Not the boy who used to follow you around with wide eyes and a hesitant smile. Not the young magician who fumbled with his cards whenever you teased him.

No, this is Lyney. Just… Lyney, with his soft eyes and patient smile with the barest hint of nervousness in the corners of his lips.

And oh, how blind you must have been to miss this.

But you don’t dwell on it, on this newest revelation of Lyney and his feelings for you, because you’re you, and he’s him, and the two of you have an entire life’s worth of time to ponder over friendships and changes and love. It’s easy to place it in a back burner, to be analyzed when you aren’t so drenched in water and Lyney isn’t so deep in his own head.

So, instead of consternating over the realization that your best friend loves you, you settle for a teasing huff.

“Not even a day after I was rejected by my crush, and you’re asking me out on a date?”

Lyney only smiles wider. “Never let it be said that I’m the kind of person who wastes time.”

“You’re incorrigible,” you tell him, but there’s a grin that’s fighting to make itself seen.

“You love it.”

“Yes,” you say softly, “I do.”

It’s not romantic, the manner in which you love Lyney. But as you watch him fret about you needing to take a shower before you catch a cold, you don’t think it would be too difficult to fee the same way.

note: the truth is that neuvillette did actually reciprocate your feelings, it’s just that he realized that depriving lyney of the possibility of love feels almost selfish, and he believes that you’d be happier with lyney than with him. he’s immortal and you’re not, which solidified his decision to reject you bc he has years upon years to find love again while lyney only has a few decades with you. basically, he felt bad about stealing lyney’s crush. and yeah, it suddenly raining was a reflection of neuvi’s mood.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #lyney x reader #genshin lyney x reader #gn reader #hm should this be considered neuvillette x reader too?

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intimidating-fettuccine · 2 months

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Can I ask for more soft headcanons of Helen as a boyfriend? I need more of Helen please

Yesssss that's my boyyyy I love Helen so much, thank you for this I missed him. I hope you enjoy :)

The longer Helen is dating you, he starts to notice a habit developing inside him. In your early days of dating, you'd offer to sit near him quietly while he does his art, and he'd accept on the condition that you don't bother him too much. Oh, how the times have changed. You'd gradually start talking to him more, and he'd start gradually talking to you more too, and now Helen can't finish an art piece unless he has you by his side telling him about your day, or anything at all you want to ramble about. He's become conditioned into needing your presence while he does any art, which is crazy to him because younger Helen before he met you would be aghast at the thought, but the longer he dates you the more he wants to be around you at any chance he can get. You energize and inspire him, and he finds that he loves any art he makes beside you to be his best work.

Started doing pottery recently as a way to branch out and learn more things, and he tries to make stuff for you all the time. It all started when you pointed out a really cute mug you'd seen online that was out of stock, and with his newfound pottery hobby, he offered to try and make it for you. After it was painted and fired, you were just so extremely excited about it, so giddy and bouncy, something switched on in his brain, and now the poor guy cannot stop wanting to make you more things. The smile you gave him just fucking wrecked him inside, and he needs to see it again. Also??? Would love it if you try and do some pottery with him too. He'll teach you how to do it if you don't already know, and the prospect of making and painting different pottery together is just so relaxing and enjoyable to Helen, so please make sure to do that with him. I'm also headcanoning that one of the first pottery things he made you was a vase, and he always keeps it filled with fresh flowers for you.

Helen has been manifesting a bit of a sweet tooth lately, and that comes in the form of him constantly trying to bake new things, and often baking them for you. I've said before he loves cooking for you (especially high-quality French food as he's French in my canon), so it's only natural that when he gets into baking, he wants you to try all the things he makes and enjoy them with him. I think Helen really enjoys baking because he can also use it as an artistic endeavor, baking and decorating beautiful desserts. Whenever you praise him for them, saying they look and taste wonderful, it always excites him and makes him feel proud, because your opinion is the one he's come to value most. Like with his art, he likes when you're in the kitchen whenever he's baking or cooking for you, and you're the only person he allows in there. He'll have you sit at the kitchen island and talk with him while he whips something up, and he likes to decorate them in front of you so you can see the whole process. Doing things like this for you is just so stress relieving for him, so it's something he tends to do quite often. He's also always taking requests, so if you ever have a hankering for something don't be afraid to ask him for it.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #bloody painter #bloody painter headcanons #bloody painter headcanon #bloody painter x reader

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buckyalpine · 1 year

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Ok so I have a request, but bear with me because I can’t find the prompt list I had seen about it 😩

Basically it was about how in real life, things happen or go wrong during sex that make it more silly. There was a whole list of things that might happen, but I can only remember two of them. One was like someone being too ticklish and the other was body parts making weird noises. Hopefully you at least get the picture with those two examples 😂

I love the idea of sex being fun and silly sometimes and thought it would be really sweet with Bucky :)

18+ This is so cute. I love all of this so much. Awkward sex positions. Queefs.

Bucky giggled.

Giggled.

You looked up at him with curious eyes, a devilish little smile flashed across your face as you went back for the same spot. Your lips nipped and teased his neck where he was most sensitive, making him squirm and wriggle under you.

"It tickles!!" He tucked his chin against his chest, his face flushed from smiling while you straddled him with an amused look on your face.

"I didn't know super soldiers were so ticklish" You grinned, poking his side, making him yelp. He grabbed you and flipped you over, trapping you under him.

"Mhm, and what about you baby" You squealed at the feeling of his beard rubbing in the crook of your neck, desperately trying to wiggle away from him while he held you down, laughing and nuzzling his face into your more. "Do I get to feel all of you now sweet girl"

He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours, his hard length pressed against your tummy, precum making a mess on your skin. You moaned softly, nodding and spreading your legs for him.

"Ow" Your face scrunched slightly, as he spread your legs a little further, your body not as warmed up and flexible as since it was still earlier in the day.

"Sorry sweets, you okay?" You hummed as he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist, pushing his cock into you slowly. "You feel perfect angel" He started off slow, feeling your body with his hands, smiling against your skin each time you clung onto him harder.

"Faster baby" You moaned, pulling him down to kiss his sweet lips, your arms draped around his shoulders. He pounded you against the mattress, his cock slamming in and out of you, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in.

"Come here baby" He pulled out of you, yanking you and bending you over the bed, stuffing his cock right back in you to fuck you from behind.

How you hated the switch from missionary to doggy.

You adored how Bucky could hit your exact spot, except it usually also came with him literally fucking air into you in the process. You blinked, groaning at the way your body just refused to cooperate while with each thrust, the sound that kept escaping your pussy wasn’t something that could be hidden.

Bucky giggled.

With each thrust, he couldn’t help but snicker at the sound while admiring the soft flesh of your ass jiggle each time he pulled your hips back.

"Did you just laugh?!" You couldn't help but laugh yourself, your boyfriend trying to hold in his little giggles while giving you gentle thrusts.

"Can't help it baby" He shrugged, massaging your thighs, his mind now wandering to something else he had wanted to try for a while. "Can-can I fuck you against the wall?"

You blinked back him while he bit his lip, hoping you'd say yes. He was still learning about things he enjoyed during sex and you were the safest most loving person he had ever been with.

"Don't drop me Barnes" You nodded, standing up and padding over to a wall that wasn't near anything so you wouldn't knock anything over.

"I won't drop you" Bucky scoffed, you weighed nothing to him. It wasn't until you were in his arms did he realize it wasn't weight that was an issue and that there was an art to fucking one against the wall.

"How-how do i-" He grunted, lifting you with both arms, when realizing he wasn’t skilled enough just yet to put his dick in you without using his hand. He tried for a second, awkwardly rubbing his tip against your pussy while you held onto him for dear life, unable to understand how anyone enjoyed this position when it took so much effort.

“Is it in yet?”

“I would know if it was in Bucky”

“Damn right you would” Cocky bastard.

“Will you stop priding yourself in your dick size for a second and just use your hand to stick it in”

“Greedy now aren’t we”

“Barnes, just use your hand to put it in and fuck me”

Bucky snorted, managing to shift you so he held you up with his metal arm, lining his cock up with your entrance. He pushed into you, both of you gasping at the feeling as he filled you, both hands now gripping onto your ass and thighs.

Once he got into the rhythm, he couldn't help but lose himself, loving the way you moaned and fluttered around him, the soft thumps against the wall only spurring him on more. Now you understood why people loved this position.

"I'm gona-f-fuck I'm gonna cum" He moaned, his cock throbbing, fucking you faster, sweat beading at his forehead.

"Hold it, fuck keep going Bucky! Don’t stop-" You whined but it was too late, fuck you felt too good.

It was like a cum now button as soon as you told him don’t stop, keep going, his balls tightened against his body, cum bursting out of his cock, spilling his load into you.

"I-HNggg-FucK I’m cumming” He moaned, stilling his movements, panting while still holding you up. "Sorry" He blushed, smiling shy at you while you snorted, shaking your head.

"I told you to keep going!"

"Well, why do you feel so good" He rolled your eyes, carrying you over and dropping you onto the bed, throwing your thighs over his shoulders, pressing a sloppy kiss onto your soaked clit.

"Now hold still while I make you cum pretty girl"

Tags:

@glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club

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hyunnieshannie · 11 months

Text

SKZ: In Bed

A shit show of a conversation was started in my writers club discord (Feel free to join!) with @maeleelee & @d4vekat-otp so here are my unhinged thoughts about how SKZ are in bed:

CHAN: SUB / SWITCH (SUB LEANING)

-He has so much control right now, even if it may not seem like it sometimes he just needs someone else to take control.

-Needs to be loved on and pampered, he's tired of taking care of his 7 kids all day

-Would love just being told what to do

-Seriously just tell him what to do, let him turn his brain off for once.

-SO SO SO in love with a calm, sweet, after care ritual:

- cuddling,

- kisses,

-a bath,

-snackies,

-hot chocolate,

- just be gentle with him after <3

MINHO: SOFT DOM

-Everyone imagines Lino as a hard dom. me included. based on his looks and demeanor but what if we based it off how he looks at Jisung?

-Suddenly the man is softer than SoonDoonDori

-Consent is sexy KING: asks if you're okay with everything he does

-SO SO SO passionate

-Gentle unless asked not to be

-Will bring the cats in after sex to let you cuddle up to them because he loves seeing his four babies all together.

-"want me to make you a snack?"

-SO MANY KISSES

-TIGHT cuddles, man will literally NOT let you go

-Would check in to make sure you're not hurt anywhere if he got 'too rough'

-Gives you his hoodie and sweats to sleep in

-HELPS YOU change into everything because "I'm changing the saying from No one helps you once you're fucked." (he's a lil dumb sometimes, he's doing his best okay?)

CHANGBIN: SWITCH (Depending on the day)

-Loves a good rough fuck

-but GOD WOULD HE LOVE being taken care of.

-Either manhandles you with his thicc muscles

- or pouts for you to be gentle with him

-IMMACULATE aftercare (HAVE YOU SEEN HOW SWEET HE IS WITH HIS MOM AND SISTER? HE WAS RAISED RIGHT AND KNOWS HOW TO TREAT A WOMAN)

-Massages!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Bubble Baths <3

-Would CARRY you to the bath <3 (Even if you can still walk. he WILL carry you)

-HE PREPARES!!! Whether he assumes he's gonna get some, or not, hes ALWAYS prepared for what you'll need after just in case! (Like water and snacks, or advil) (he do get a little sleepy after sex please cuddle him)

-PRAISES THE FUCK OUT OF HIS PARTNER 100% SO SO SWEET. "You're doing so good," "You take me so well" JKBDSFJKBVSFKJBGSKJDFVBG

HYUNJIN: SERVICE TOP / SOFT DOM

-Soft boy, Shy when people compliment his looks BUT

-Behind closed doors, he KNOWS. He KNOWS hes hot. and uses it against you

-He's a slut (lovingly)

-LOVES roleplay LOVES being a character so he can forget he was shy earlier about receiving a compliment

-PRAISES YOU "you're so perfect." | "More beautiful than any art piece in any museum" | "Made just for me,"

-SENSUAL ASF

-He wants to be in control, but doesn't want to hurt you ever, only wants to make you feel good

-Will sketch you naked while you look fucked out (paint me like one of your french girls)

-The Most EXTREME Aftercare (it's such a long process)

-Will not let you lift a single finger, while he massages you, helps you bathe, puts lotion on you, gives you a face mask, changes you, and ultimately puts you to bed

-KISSES ALL OVER YOUR FACE before you fall asleep <3

JISUNG: SOFT DOM

-STOP DOING HANJI WRONG AND CALLING HIM BITCHLESS, WHO ARE WE KIDDING? HES NOT BITCHLESS AND WE ALL KNOW IT

-BIAS WRECKS EVERYONE EVERY SINGLE CB? EVEN IF JISUNG ISN'T YOUR BIAS... HE'S STILL YOUR BIAS.

-JISUNG MAY BE SHY BUT HE KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING.

-LOVES EDGING. (Ignores us on bubble forever, knows we want him, knows EXACTLY when to drop content, and leave us begging him for more)

-HEAD GAME STRONG. PROVE ME WRONG RN.

-LOVES watching you beg for him. "I don't think you deserve it though-"

-WHORE (lovingly)

-WOULD SEXT YOU WHILE EITHER ONE OF YOU IS IN AN IMPORTANT MEETING "How bad do you want me right now?"

-AFTER CARE INCLUDES CUDDLES AND ANIME

-LIKE SO MUCH ANIME (FOKN WEEB)

-Showers TOGETHER. you're not allowed to go in there alone wtf??

FELIX: HARD DOM. / BRAT TAMER

-WHY EVERYONE THINK HES A SUB??

-HATES being seen as a pretty, fragile, princess

-NEEDS to take out his frustrations but what BETTER way than to show his partner whos in charge (Spoiler: It's Him.)

-The type to fuck you against the wall

-Seriously. He wants to pick you up and fuck you against any flat surface he can find- especially- when you piss him off.

-Leaves SO MANY marks on you. "Everyone needs to know who you belong to."

-LOVES face fucking. L O V E S it

-PRAISES YOU (if you deserve it) "Just like that, you're doing so good"

-IF YOU DONT DESERVE IT THO: "Stupid little whore, forgot whos in charge again huh?" (NOT HAPPY. STILL SO HOT OF HIM THO)

-SWEET BABY DURING AFTERCARE, WHOLE 180 CHANGE, "Baby what do you need?" "are you ok my love?" "Thank you for letting me get my anger out..." SO SO SO SO SO SOFT

SEUNGMIN: HARD DOM. FULL ON SADIST.

-Man isn't just a dom. He's a mother fucking SADIST

-Teases you until you cry

-LOVES making you angry/frustrated

-LOVES watching you fight back (like the brat you are)

-LOVES it more to see you lose the fight (Source: Trust me bro)

-TOYS TOYS TOYS.

-LOVES Using toys to overstimulate you.

-THE TYPE TO DO GUIDED MASTRUBATION

-LOVES the power he has over you!!!!!!!!!

-DENIAL. DENIAL. DENIAL. THIS IS BEYOND EDGING. ONE WRONG MOVE AND HE WILL DENY YOU AT LEAST 7 TIMES.

-JEALOUS FUCKING. "so you wanna act up in front of other guys? REMEMBER who fucking OWNS you."

-AFTERCARE IS SO NICE WITH HIM THO. HES A TOTAL PUPPY. Following you around to make sure you're okay, like a dog with its tail between its legs he needs lots of attention, cuddles and kisses. He loves you SO Much, he can't help his jealousy issues...

JEONGIN: HARD DOM

-DOESNT want to be Baby bread. HES SAID IT. (he wants to be Daddy Toast fr)

-Hes SO innocent looking? RED FLAG. HES 100% A WHORE (Lovingly)

-LOVES using his hands and his tongue

-Will over stimulate you with them before he even THINKS of fucking you

-When he DOES fuck you, the grip he has on your body will leave bruises on you for a week

-WOULD MARK YOU SO MUCH

-Wants YOU to mark him in forms of hickeys or scratches

-CHOKING - HAVE YOU SEEN HIS HANDS???????????? (Chanting: BREATH PLAY, BREATH PLAY, BREATH PLAY yeah. Im part of the breath play cult...)

-ALL THE KINKS, HES A FUCKING F R E A K "You see me as a baby? I'm about to prove you wrong little fox."

-WANTS YOU TO WEAR A FUCKING COLLAR WITH HIS NAME ON THE TAG. "You're mine. don't fucking forget it."

-SUCH A BABY DURING AFTERCARE. WANTS CUDDLES, WOULD NUZZLE INTO YOU, BABY FOX IS VERY SHY AFTER LETTING OUT HIS DOM SIDE ON YOU.

Tags @chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup

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blueskittlesart · 1 month

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Question abt drawing: been trying to attempt learning how to draw forever but I always have trouble getting over the obstacle of having to learn/study things like anatomy and shading, which then causes me to stop drawing and have a harder time picking it back up. I know it's important for improving your art and yourself as an artist but I can't help but see it as tedious and overwhelming, especially the anatomy since it's more on the science side of things and science is not my thing lol. Do you have any advice on how to get over it or work thru it?

i think there's a couple facets to this question. firstly i'd recommend you consider what exactly your end goal is in learning how to draw: do you specifically want to be able to produce anatomically accurate figures and true-to-life shading, or do you just want to be able to make something for fun that looks good to you? one of the most helpful things I ever learned at art school was that accuracy doesn't matter if it looks good. 99% of my art isn't strictly anatomically accurate, and part of that is stylization, but even when i'm doing realistic figure drawings i like to lengthen limbs and exaggerate curves in order to make my drawings look better. So if your only real goal with art is to make something that looks good and enjoy the process, my first piece of advice would be to stop worrying so much about stuff like perfect accuracy! if you use references and keep pushing yourself, the skill and understanding you're looking for will come naturally with time. before I was ever classically trained, I got pretty far just by drawing my favorite characters in different poses and situations over and over again, and that experience laid the groundwork for when classical training did become available to me. Just because you're not necessarily doing serious figure studies doesn't mean you're not getting valuable practice--what it means is that you're having FUN while you're practicing, and having fun with your art is the most important thing!!!

Secondly, you mentioned anatomy being on the science side of things, which suggests to me that you may be looking in the wrong places when trying to do more serious anatomical study. if you look up 'anatomy' or anything similar on a web search engine, you're likely going to get a lot of very complex scientific illustrations. and while those aren't necessarily devoid of artistic value (I took a class all about scientific anatomy for artists last semester and it was GREAT) for a beginner who's just trying to learn how to make a body look like a body, they're not what you're looking for. what is going to be much more helpful for you are sites like line of action or quickposes. these sites are basically repositories of figure drawing images, and you can set them to automatically switch to a new image after a certain interval of time. if you really, desperately want to improve your anatomy specifically, what I recommend is going to one of these sites, setting it to the shortest interval possible, and trying to copy the pose as closely as you can before time is up. this might sound crazy, since the shortest interval is usually somewhere between 30-60 seconds, which obviously isn't enough to get much down. but what this will do is force you to look at how these models' bodies are constructed and translate it onto the page quickly and without overthinking it. be warned, your first maybe hundred of these are going to look like shit. but if you do this enough, you're eventually going to gain an intrinsic sense for 1. how a body works and 2. the easiest way for you personally to construct a body when drawing it. even without knowing the scientific names and anatomical rules, you're going to get a FEEL for how things work, which is much more important and useful to you as a character artist.

Finally, i think the most important thing to remember is that no art is bad art, even if you're not satisfied with the end product. when you're first starting out as an artist, you're going to make things that don't look right and you're going to be frustrated with yourself because of it. i vividly remember crying over a sketchbook at maybe age 11 or 12 because I was so upset i couldn't put exactly what was in my head on the page. Skill comes with time and practice and that is a frustrating fact of life, but no time spent doing something you enjoy and are passionate about is wasted. It might look bad now but you are laying the groundwork for your future success, and someday you're probably going to look back on your past work and say "I can't believe I thought this looked bad back then. for my age and my skill level i was doing AMAZING." And as previously mentioned, it's a lot less discouraging when something looks bad if you had fun making it, so try to have FUN with your art. draw things you enjoy and are passionate about and don't worry if it looks bad. focus on the experience, the skill will come in time. you've got this!!

#i've had this account since i was 15 years old. you can literally go back and see my ass did NOT know what i was doing #but i was having fun and the weird stuff that i was trying that maybe didn't always look right was what laid the groundwork #for my current skills!#i know this advice is basically just 'practice' which is what everyone says but it's important to me that you know #that practice should be FUN too. practice isn't drawing boring shit over and over again before you get to draw the fun stuff #practice is drawing the fun stuff that is maybe a little out of your comfort zone and maybe it looks a little wonky but you did it #and you had fun doing it! and now you'll be a little more prepared to do it again in the future!#asks

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magistralucis · 3 months

Text

"I'm right here." - Trazyn/Orikan (requested by @beril66)

(Drabble for a prompt fill challenge, prompts available here.)

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

They debate the pros and cons for a while, but in the end Orikan gets his wish, as he must've always known he would. Trazyn feels some kind of way about it. It's odd - as he gathers the necessary tools and heads to Orikan's quarters, he feels not a single smidgen of hatred, only the weight of dread mixed with weary concern. This is not how he would've characterized his sentiments towards the Diviner before any of this happened. He feels out of himself, frustratingly passive, inadequate.

"Orikan."

But if the Overlord of Solemnace is not adequate for this task, no one else will be. He desires breath, deletes the notion from his engrams, and enters.

Orikan is lying silently on the ground. Sannet is watching over him. Outwardly the astromancer is closer to restored - his primary servomechanisms have regained their function and the necrodermis 93% regenerated, the scratches buffed out and his carapace polished a rich turquoise - but Trazyn doesn't need to scan him to know that little about Orikan's mental state has changed. He sends an interstitial greeting, receives but a tiny blip in return. Trazyn dismisses his Arch-Cryptek with a nod, then with some effort, kneels down beside Orikan.

"Don't suppose you want it done to the tiles." He says out loud, more to himself than the astromancer, then dares the slightest touch with a fingertip upon the other's blackened spine. Orikan tenses, a shiver passing through his circuits. "I'll be gilding below those (gesturing at the three orbucula along his spine), then your clavicle-collar, and your headpiece. Has Sannet updated you on my process?"

A small nod. Trazyn heaves a sigh-analogue. Three whole decans have passed since that fateful battle, and just as long their cohabitation in Solemnace - but Orikan is still so afraid, and refuses all attempts to clarify the problem. Hardly an encouraging atmosphere where hands-on work is necessary. Still, for Orikan, he will do his best.

"... Good. If you've no other qualms, dear colleague, I will begin."

-----

They don't talk. Not about each other, not even loosely to fill the time. Trazyn's working at the same speed as his living self once did, which is rather slow for necron engrams, and in the absence of Orikan's jabs and insults he finds himself dwelling on the strangeness of the other's request. No one among their kind has needed to hand-gild anything since biotransference. Few individuals remember the art at all, and besides, they have decorator-scarabs for the purpose. Trazyn certainly isn't painting on his own raiments whenever he's damaged or switches bodies, and he loved gilding with his hands, it was his finest skill among the scribal arts.

But even when Trazyn lived the practice was considered old-fashioned. It's not an art he imagined Orikan, with his dislike of the past, would be caught dead asking for. Their world has shifted about them and maybe it's everything Trazyn has ever wanted, except he knows they're not the things Orikan would've usually wanted, and the thought of the other's discomfort bothers him more than he'd admit.

(Then again they never thought all that seriously about being caught dead, full stop.)

The hand holding the brush trembles. He is thinking illogically again.

(Trazyn only foolishly thought they had.)

Enough of this. Trazyn forcibly focuses his oculars elsewhere and redirects extra core-flux to his fine-motor actuators. It's easier because he's not facing Orikan. The spaces between the orbs and his spine are narrow, and while Trazyn can zoom in visually for the little details, he has no choice but to physically lean in close to actually let his brush pass over those areas. He tries to be discreet about it, but ultimately he must hold Orikan against him as he works, or else lie beside him for a clearer view.

He's seldom been this up close and personal with Orikan without dying. Nor with anyone else, not in this context: the living Trazyn's handiwork belonged to books and scrolls foremost, stone second, with the occasional jewelry-burnishing for interest. And even if he were only working on those (and not Orikan's body), remembering how it was done before is not the same as putting the work to practice, especially since Trazyn's current technique is different to how it was done before. There's a brush and there is gold, and therein ends the similarity. Trazyn's pigments are no longer bound with gum, but with fluid living metal, which adheres directly upon Orikan's body once painted. There is no need for varnish, nor the bite of regal acid, nor heat produced from anywhere other than their cores. Trazyn's own nanoscarabs are following along, tidying up the edges and weaving the gold layers into necrodermis at a subatomic level. His artisan's pride suggests a filigree finish, though his rational side suspects Orikan won't care for it.

Nevertheless he ought to bring it up at some point. It's a pretty touch, a dignified thing. Trazyn finishes gilding the lowest orbuculum down Orikan's spine, sits up with the faintest creak of his knee-cabling, moves away.

The astromancer's hand darts out of nowhere to grab his wrist.

Trazyn bristles. Literally bristles, the epidermic layer of his necrodermis rippling visibly as his subconscious prepares for an attack. It dies down as soon as he regards Orikan, and the immensity of the panic radiating from him; no need to run a diagnostic scry, nor even ask what's wrong, since the Diviner is incandescent with alarm-patterns from every functional node. Without a word Orikan drags himself to kneeling, crawls forwards - then collapses right against Trazyn's ribcage, clinging on for dear life, or whatever passes for its illusion nowadays.

"Orikan!" Trazyn's voice crackles, then fuzzes out of his vocal emitters entirely. It comes back dampened, soft, despite his best efforts. "What are you... oh... oh, damn it all."

There's no answer. But the point is loud and clear: Orikan needs his company, he won't be left alone. This was never about mere gilding - something happened to Orikan during the brief moments of his godhood, and Trazyn's presence is the only thing that's been grounding him ever since, for he's the one other proof Orikan has that the interdimensional horrors could be overcome. "I was only going to move to the other side, you know I wasn't going away." Trazyn says quietly as he puts down the brush, sitting up as straight as his back will allow. He supports the other's frail body in his arms and drapes one half of his cloak over him. "I'm right here, Orikan. It's all right."

They're pressed turquoise against turquoise, core-flux burning hot. Trazyn would not have believed, once upon a time, that such a happenstance could've occurred in any other context than his unfailing triumph over Orikan: he'd have been all too happy to see the Diviner crushed, made centrepiece or vassal or a slave, the gold and turquoise proof of his ownership more than anything else. Those fantasies feel distant now, like they're a different lifetime and a dozen different Trazyns away. In the present day Trazyn the Infinite is merely staring down at their hands, two charred and two unblemished, his oculars dim and sad as he clasps their fingers in comfort.

Fleetingly the archaeovist recalls this was how the Nihilakh nobility welcomed additions to the dynasty. The newcomer, usually a child or a foreign spouse, would be granted a ceremonial robing of the dynastic colours followed by gifts of gold and turquoise goods. Seal-rings for a new groom, hairpins for a bride, amulets and jeweled rattles and gold-embroidered toys for the newborn babes. Trazyn has never had cause to perform this ceremony himself and remembers nothing else about it, and he certainly doesn't think Orikan had anything like this in mind - but as far as welcoming Orikan to his household goes, he supposes this is the most benign way they could've gone about it.

"My dear Orikan." He soothes, watching the glimmer of Orikan's discharge nodes slowing to a quiet blink, and rests a warm palm atop the other's cranium. "I will not leave you. Take as long as you like."

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

(Notes: This is a piece exploring a headcanon that Orikan wears Nihilakh colours because Trazyn gifted it to him post-TIATD, presumably during a recuperating period on or near Solemnace. Orikan got battered to hell and back during that battle, it's doubtful Trazyn would've let him go in that state; since I also enjoyed writing about necrontyr!Trazyn's scribal duties in Unravel recently, I've brought back the chrysography/hand-gilding angle for this piece. 🥰 It struck me as a low-key but very intimate image.)

#warhammer 40k #wh40k #trazyn the infinite #orikan the diviner #the infinite and the divine #the infinite and the divine spoilers #necrons #necron #drabble #prompt fill #i've been dwelling on the requests i've received during this week and finally they're coming to fruition... slowly! 😂💖#@beril66: i have your other requests but since they arrived in one ask i'm posting each fill separately in their own post #next up is some necrontyr sauciness 😘

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gothy-froggy · 2 years

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Ok so for first nsfw ask I'll choose something easy .

What would Scarecrow be into. Just general headcanons.

Y E S.

This was actually fun to write?? Not even gonna lie. We got Jonathan and a little Scarecrow in the mix of this 😏

{This IS more towards to female audiences at times}

Warning(s) : nsfw (duh), cussing, Fear toxin, the Scarecrow making his presence known, not proofread (as usual)

Things the Scarecrow is into (NSFW)

In one of my other head canons I mentioned how much a enjoys his lover getting pissed off. He thinks it's so hot if you're yelling at someone. Even if it's towards him. Arguments with Jonathan are already difficult. He's so calm and collective, usually "wins" (you do obviously it's how it works. You're always right, duh!)

Loves dirty talk. Whether it's from him or you, he loves it. I will say no more.

He wants to use fear toxin. Jonathan wants to use it on you with a mix of dirty talk. He'll even make a special toxin just to use in bed. Why? He doesn't want it to hurt you like it does for his "work." He wants you to be in good health and not affected by the toxin.

Two things. Hair tugging and choking.

That's his shit.

If you and Jonathan are making out and you tug on his hair, things are going to get real, real quick. The choking isn't him choking you. It's you choking him. Yes, this is a reference to the image on my other post. Or just hand your hand around his neck? He's on his knees.

hand slithering towards his neck, giving it a simple squeeze. He whimpers.

"You have no idea the things you do to me, Dr. Crane."

Jonathan enjoys praises, but is rather picky. He doesn't enjoy being called a good boy or someone having a tone of talking to a child, but he loves the praises while making someone feel good.

Body worships. So much. We won't ever stop. Yes, he likes when you do it, but he prefers to be the one doing it.

"Have I told you how beautiful you and your body truly is?" His hands firmly placed on their thighs. He takes one of their hands and kisses the palm.

"It truly is a work of art. Your thighs, palms, fingertips.."

His lingering soft kisses traveled their arm. He looked into their eyes.

"I highly doubt I'm worth to touch something so precious."

Definitely switches between being a dom and sub. Usually when he's feeling one of the two, he sticks with it. If he's feeling dominant, there's a way to make him submissive. Tugging his hair. He's rethinking whether he wants to be in control.

He has quite a thing for hickeys. Both ways. He loves giving and receiving them. He loves marking you up. If it’s Jonathan, he loves leaving them around the collarbone. If Scarecrow makes his entrance, he loves biting thighs.

Jonathan is the embodiment of "I won't admit it." But Mr. Crane has a huge thing for public blowjobs or handjobs. During his break at work? Please do. He loves it, but he'll complain and remind you how you both are in public.

But noooo it's different if it's him doing the same thing to you with fingering in public. He'll whisper for you to keep it down and try not to get caught.

Jonathan's hand snaked around his beloved's waist, pulling them close. Close enough that his lips connects to their ear. His hands moving their hair away from their ear.

"Quiet now. We wouldn't want the others to hear you now would we?"

He whispers. He placed a kiss on their jaw.

"We don't want to get caught, my dear."

He's one bold ass teasing bitch. Why? He'll do it when people are around. Like family dinner? Yeah he's bold enough for that.

Here's the thing. He's nearly impossible to do the same thing to him. Jonathan has a some self control. He can talk through a hand or blow job.

Maybe a few slip ups here and there, but you can’t get revenge that way.

Loves having the mask on during sex. The only thing is that Scarecrow might let his presences known, using a lot more toxin in the process.

“The fear in your eyes...My dear, you’ll be screaming all night long.”

Jonathan loves being able to look into your eyes so really any position where he can see you face is fine with him. His two favorites?

Missionary

and cowgirl

He loves the expressions and the amount of emotions that are in your eyes. It’s like a drug to Jonathan. He’ll do any position but he prefers those the most. I think it’s safe to say that Jonathan is a little adventurous in bed ;0

Oh, did I mention about him wanting you in his office? Jonathan has his ways to allow you to be in his office. Whether you work in the Asylum or not. He learned to enjoy quickies by having you between patient appointments. His favorites during those times is you riding him. Or you riding him anytime really. He’s obsessed over it.

He wasn’t very adventurous or experienced at first. He had affairs with people due to bottled up emotions or frustrations. They were simple, nothing special. It changed when he met you though. He’s more interested now.

He makes up the lack of appreciation and affection he shows by showing, sometimes even saying it, during these intimate times. When he realizes how unappreciated he's been acting for a while, he takes all the time in the world to make it up to you.

#jonathan crane #gotham #jonathan crane x reader #the scarecrow #jonathan crane the scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #the scarecrow x reader #the scarecrow x you #nolan Jonathan crane #cillian murphy jonathan crane #cillian murphy jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane headcanon #fanfiction #fanfic smut #jonathan crane smut

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art · 6 months

Text

Creator Spotlight: @66sharkteeth

66 is a comic artist and the creator of City of Blank, a WEBTOON original series. They worked in the game industry at companies such as 2K Games before entering the field of comics. They began their career in comics at Tapas, where they worked as an editor and lead typesetter, before being signed to create their own original series on WEBTOON.

Check out our interview with 66 below!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

The short answer is yeah, I’ve definitely had one. Overall, I feel like doing a lot of style studies during that time and trying to use new brushes helps a lot. In addition, because I’m a comic artist, I feel like writer’s block is in the same field, and with that, I’m really fortunate that I have an editor that I can work with, who helps me a lot there. Whenever I am stuck at a plot point in my comic, I can always go to my editor, who helps me hammer things out.

What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

Animation. Of course, everyone loves animation. I went to school for game art and design and even did some animation courses, and I am just not cut out for it. I don’t enjoy the process, and I am not good at it. Animation is beautiful, and I admire people who can do it. I’d love for my work to be animated some day, I’m just not capable of being the one to do it haha.

Warm tones or cool tones?

It really depends on the scene! Especially in my comic, I really go with both of them, just depending on the moment in the comic. There was a major character death, and that scene was almost black and white. But normally, the comic is very vibrant, and people really like it, so when I switch it to a more cold tone, it makes the scene that much more impactful.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

Honestly, my current comic, City of Blank, takes up 100% of my time. But recently, I did a plushie campaign where I worked with Makeship through Webtoon to design the plushies and do a little bit of marketing for them. So that’s fun and different from what I normally do!

When planning a comic or a story, what do you do first, character design or character outline?

Normally, I have a design, and I fall in love with the character design, and then I find a role for them. That’s how a lot of my characters have started. Also, that’s how I’ve been tackling new projects that I want to work on after City of Blank. I just came up with a character, and I’m trying to make a story around them.

What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?

Meeting readers and realizing how much my work means to some of them. Some of them have started their own comics, having been inspired by mine. Learning that I’m part of the reason they started their own comic journey, the same way I looked to other inspiring comic artists to start mine—it means the world that I’m in that position now.

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Let’s see…bright, sparkly colors! I think just trying to make sure that the booth is eye-catching. I ended up making a big shiny banner for New York Comic Con, and I know many people stopped by because it caught their eye and they’re curious about what it is. I know a lot of people are selling merchandise of popular media. Even just a banner of your brand to get them curious about who you are and maybe interested in seeing what you make and taking a business card so they can look you up later. It’s better than someone just buying a pin and forgetting you exist. Lastly, put out a tip jar. You never know just how generous your fans are feeling.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

I’m mostly involved in the webtoon sphere! I am definitely inspired by my fellow Webtoon creators, @lark-wren, who created the series Woven. I love their work and seeing them interact with their readers on Tumblr. Same with fellow Webtoon creators, @miranda-mundt-art and @astrobleme-enterprises, who created Lovebot.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, 66! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @66sharkteeth and follow their webcomic, City of Blank, over at WEBTOON.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #webtoon #webcomic #comic artist #66 shark teeth #city of blank

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oftenwantedafton · 2 months

Text

What Remains - Springtrap/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 1

Rating - Explicit

Word count - 2k

Content/Warnings - minor violence, body horror, no explicit content in this chapter, additional tags to be added

Summary - They say the new Fazbear Fright horror attraction is haunted; the souls of the victims reawakened in this new venue that is meant to pay homage to the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. Seeking justice. Looking for revenge.

You know it is haunted by something much, much worse.

Also available on AO3

They say the new Fazbear Fright horror attraction is haunted; the souls of the victims reawakened in this new venue that is meant to pay homage to the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. Seeking justice. Looking for revenge.

You know it is haunted by something much, much worse.

***

You never thought this was how you’d be using your art degree.

But when you’d heard they’d been looking for someone to help stage and recreate the new horror attraction, you could hardly turn it down.

You are fascinated by the themed restaurant’s dark history.

They won’t let you inside the actual building to see what you’re replicating; something about a nearly lethal accident when an animatronic had been removed, so you’re forced to rely on the pictures and news articles you find online, on the old microfiche slides at the library. For a place with such an extensively rumored past, you don’t find very much. It’s almost as if the place wants to be kept hidden. Secret.

Then there are the protests. Families of the victims. Still considered alleged victims, because no bodies of any of the missing children had ever been found. Nonetheless, certain members of the community vehemently fight the new location’s opening. Claiming it’s disrespectful to those that have been lost. Dangerous to desecrate that evil establishment and recreate another in its image. But money talks, and there’s no denying this place has potential to make serious cash. So the protests go unheard. Ignored. And the project moves forward.

You meet the yellow rabbit late one night when you’re trying to arrange the decor on the wall, continuously glancing at the grainy image you’d printed out. The perspective is limited and it’s confusing your placement of certain objects.

You hear something from the other room.

It takes a few moments to register, so occupied as you are with the task at hand. Wait. There it is again. Something heavy, being dragged.

You turn, holding your breath. Another rough sound of metal scraping against concrete. A chill runs down your spine. You’ve always been a rational person. You didn’t really believe in ghosts. But you’re starting to in a hurry.

Maybe it’s someone playing a practical joke. Maybe some kids have broken in trying to get an early sneak peek. Those are the logical explanations that come readily to mind, comforting you slightly. You straighten your shoulders, determined to confront whatever is making the noise. Pausing just long enough to grab a crowbar resting on top of one of the wooden crates that hasn’t been unpacked yet.

The sound is emanating from the room with the animatronic display. The one that had been found oddly folded and stuffed inside of a vent in the old Freddy’s, the extraction process itself nearly ending someone’s life. Some of your newfound confidence wavers. Your palm is damp against the metal tool in your hand.

You feel for a light switch on the wall and flip it. Nothing. The electricians clearly hadn’t had a chance to complete work in this part of the building. Or had they? Something is glowing in the darkness ahead of you. Two pinpricks of light. Growing larger. The sound evolving. Less of a drag. The animatronic has found its footing once again. Like a toddler learning to walk. Only this creature was nothing young. Not nearly so innocent. There’s a massive seven foot tall rabbit standing before you now, visible as you back up into the lit corridor behind you. The color of its synthetic fur a sickly sort of shade between yellow and green. It hasn’t been restored yet. There aren’t a lot of experts in that field to begin with, and less so as time has gone on. Part of one ear is missing. There are exposed cables and jagged edged holes. You think you can almost see inside some of them, to the robot’s internal components. Except they do not look mechanical. They look…human. Dusky dried skin and petrified organs that have a faint purple shimmer to them.

You cease backing away and the creature stops just shy of the open doorway. Its head tips to the side thoughtfully, considering you. There is intelligence in that gaze. You cannot explain how you know this, but your suspicion is confirmed when a voice like rusted gears grating together emanates from within the depths of the suit.

“I wonder,” says the rabbit. “I wonder what you think you’re doing with that.”

You recall the crowbar in your hand. “N…nothing. I was just…”

Faster than you’d imagined possible there is a steel encased paw—hand? yes, they were clearly fingers modeled after a human’s—clutching your wrist. Squeezing. The metal clatters to the ground.

“You were just…what?” There is a mocking tone audible now. The voice is becoming smoother. Getting used to speech again. You can see that there is something inside the headpiece of the suit. Another flash of white teeth behind the dirty yellowing ones that comprise the rictus grin of the mascot. A man inside of there? But how? Why?

“I’m just here staging…decorating…”

“You work here?”

You nod frantically. The grip on your wrist abruptly loosens and you clutch it to your chest, probing for injuries. There’s a dirty ring where the thing has touched you, but you don’t think the bones are broken. Only because the figure inside the animatronic had not deemed it necessary; you had no doubt it could crush you if it wanted.

“Doing what, precisely?”

“Like I said before. I got hired to help recreate Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.”

“With stolen assets.”

“I didn’t steal anything.”

“Using them without permission is stealing though, is it not? What do they call it these days…intellectual property. Theft, however you regard it.” The suited figure flexes its upper extremities and all you can think of is someone working feeling back into a limb that’s gone numb. Pins and needles. You wonder what it feels like to this individual. “What should I do with you…” There is definitely a dark lace of amusement draped over that query. You’re entertaining it. Somehow. Maybe you can use that to your advantage. Keep yourself alive a little longer.

You lick your lips. “I can help you,” you say quickly.

“Help me how, exactly?”

Ah. Good point. What services could you provide? What could you possibly do for a decaying haunted animatronic? “I can get you things you need.”

There’s that shimmer again. As if whatever was inside was struggling to escape. “And what, do you imagine, I might need?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll do my best to get it.”

“Supposing I allow you to keep existing. How do I know that you won’t tell others about me?”

Oh. That phrasing. You swallow hurriedly. “I won’t. I promise.”

Another tip of the head, the severed ear’s cables twitching with the motion. “Hmm. Maybe I’ll let you live for now. You might be…amusing. And if I change my mind later, well…”

The dark threat hangs heavy in the air.

***

Silence greets you when you enter the building the next afternoon.

Perhaps you’d dreamt it all. It had to be a nightmare, right? Just something your brain had incorporated from the grim occupation you currently have. Gruesome little details being assembled into your mind, collectively forming a monstrous rabbit mascot that had threatened to murder you.

You’ve nearly convinced yourself of the truth of this until the afternoon becomes evening and you hear footsteps. Heavy. A tred that could never belong to a human.

It’s there, just behind you. Watching. Waiting.

“Don’t stop on my account. It’s…entertaining to see how you’re reinterpreting things. What sources are you using? You’re too young to have a first hand account.”

“Internet. Library research. Old newspaper articles. There isn’t a lot available. Most of the focus is on the disappearances.”

The yellow rabbit folds its arms across its chest. Much more limber tonight. The lit eyes are brighter, too. “And the proprietor of this establishment cares for authenticity?”

You nod.

The towering figure takes a step forward and you recoil against the checkerboard patterned wall. “No, I think not. Profit, most likely. The best way to maximize earnings. But you’re different, aren’t you? There’s a kind of…care in your work. You value what you’re doing. Take pride in it.”

“I do.”

“Hmm.” The mascot retreats, leaning against the wall across from you.

“What’s your name?”

“You can call me…Springtrap.” A touch of bitterness saturating that name. It wouldn’t be obvious why until later in your relationship, but for now, you can only offer your own in exchange. Not that the figure had asked. “I can assist you with some of your work. I was there at the pizzeria, after all.”

“Why would you want to help me?” You can’t help but distrust the rabbit. Sparing you already put you in its debt. What would the cost of this other favor be?

“Consider it…taking a trip down memory lane, as it were. Nostalgia. Sentimentality.” Purple light glows from within the decaying suit.

“What are you?” The words escape before you can rethink their utterance.

“Someone old. Something very, very new. Paradox. An improbability.”

You know the man—you’re assuming it’s male, the voice certainly is masculine—inside the animatronic is smiling even though you can’t see it from this angle.

You don’t think you like that feral grin; you’re afraid of what will happen when you no longer amuse him. When he stops smiling. There are bruises on your wrist from where he’d grabbed you the previous night. Dark purple splotches. Broken blood vessels.

The sound of something shifting inside the suit makes your skin crawl. A slithering hiss of old flesh against steel. You look away, refocusing on your work.

Feeling the creature’s eyes on your every move.

***

Something changes the first time you touch what is inside the suit.

Springtrap keeps his distance, for the most part, observing, recounting stories from the past. You find yourself relaxing slightly in his presence, as absurd as that sounds. Maybe you really could get used to anything if you were exposed to it long enough.

That’s not to say you don’t still find the tall rabbit figure terrifying and creepy; but there’s something in that calm voice of his. A kind of charm. Charisma. He was intriguing. It smothers the logic and reason that has always steered you so well through life. Why don’t you tell anyone?

Who would believe you, even if you did?

You need to move the portable lamp from the other side of the room—you really wish they’d prioritize the lighting installation, especially in a place with no windows, you really don’t want to be stuck in here in the dark—and it’s not surprising when you trip amidst the clutter on the floor. You try to keep things organized, but there’s just so much of it. So your body automatically reaches out to brace yourself on the nearest available surface, and that just happens to be Springtrap.

One hand meets the rotting fur, but the other…the other sinks inside of the suit. Touching that dried husk within. Only it’s not parched like it once was. It’s wet. Moist. Humid inside. You don’t know what you’re grabbing. A rough hiss from the figure. Purple tendril of illumination curling around your wrist. Caressing. You stare, transfixed. What is that light? So warm. Why aren’t you frightened?

Metal hands shove at your shoulders and the connection is broken. You stumble back, gasping. It’s like breaking through the surface of a body of water. You desperately suck in a lungful of air. Glance down at your hand, the one that had been inside the mascot. Nothing. No visible trace that you had ever made the transgression.

“What was that?” You whisper.

“I don’t know.” For the first time, Springtrap seems uncertain. Shaken. You can hear how ragged his breathing is.

He was changing. Evolving, somehow. Almost as if he was becoming more…alive.

The man within growing stronger.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #springtrap x you #springtrap x reader

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serinigalini · 4 months

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hi hi! first off thank you so much for always serving looks. your art is phenomenal and your style feels like it belongs on the walls of a luxury fashion HQ.

stunning stunning stunning

i was wondering if you ever get the time, would you mind (please) showing us any tips on how to achieve that rich variety of textures you have on so many of your fits? the one you did recently of the three Tifa fits, for example, has so many different textures represented. I wouldn't even know where to begin achieving that!

no pressure of course! if it's a trade secret then please do keep it. I'm just so impressed and curious and had to speak up

thanks so much, keep up the beautiful work x

Hello!

First off, thank you so much for your wonderful words! Working in the fashion industry is my dream so this means a whole lot to me.

I can totally share! I'll try my best to explain my process because it varies quite often, especially now that I switched from Photoshop and Procreate, but if I were to give my step by step, it's this:

sketch> lineart> color> shade> paint over> texture/grain/sharpen/contrast

The unique coloring I had a few drawings back came from working with an Adjustment Layer with a Gradient Map on Photoshop. But now since I use Procreate, my main trick is making the colors much darker than I want initially, and then putting a bunch of highlights with a Color Dodge layer with a textured brush.

Now, my main thing is that I never use blending brushes and my brushes (outside of color blocking) are always textured. Charcoal, pencil, grainy, grungy etc, that is what you're looking for. If you need something slightly softer, watercolor brushes that mimic real ones are ones I use as well, just not as often as the others.

My latest Tifa piece uses all official Procreate brushes that come with the app. The Rosette brush, which is under the Textures brush folder, and the Flicks brush under the Spraypaints folder. (Also Derwent, 6B pencil and Gloaming for sketching and lineart)

General rule of thumb with shine is that it can only get so light, so make sure your base is on the darker side.

Here is my effects folder. That's where I add highlights, mood and texture. I've also been enjoying the noise and sharpen feature on Procreate, and I apply them all on a grey overlay layer on top of all of my art. Also a bunch of color burn and overlay layers.

For reference, here is the art without the effect folder compared to the final art.

Hope this helps! ❤

#art advice #asks #myart

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kaihuntrr · 4 months

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Sea Prince: 2024 Plans!

Hello hello! No new art for now (currently I’d like to focus on my personal OCs before I settle back in to drawing things for the AU) but I got some lovely updates for the future- likely the rest of the year, actually!

I will say- thank you all so much for your support and love for the fic, even if it’s barely begun! There’s so, so much in store for this AU you won’t even believe it!

It’ll be a long post, so here’s the TLDR; Act One is complete, it only needs to be edited and beta read! + Act Two is currently in production

Thank you all so much <3 now, unto the nitty-gritty below!

First things first, how is the AU faring?

I wrapped up the entirety of Act One in November (you could say the second half of TSP was my Nanowrimo, as I wrote about 48-51k words that month- and Act One sits pretty at 112k!) and currently my good partner in crime @mewhoismyself is editing Chapter 20! We’re starting back up after the new year celebrations, and I’m happy to say we’re pretty rested and hyped to present Act One’s entirety! The schedule is the same as always (chapter every other week) just to keep a good distance between where you guys are at and where we’re at, so no sudden hiatuses!

As a treat, here are the chapter titles for the posts after the upcoming one! I feel I’d be spoiling the surprise if I announce the title now.

OH! And Act Two has officially started production!

I am currently in the process of writing the prologue (I’ve mapped out the timeline of Act Two during my December break), and it’s exciting to say the least.

Of course I can’t share any details (wouldn’t want to spoil anything ;) ) but I’m excited for you to get here!

My goals for this year is to complete Act Two and Three!

Mostly just working on Act Two and bullet out Act Three (at this point, I am aware of roughly everything that will happen from Act One to Five) so that’s fun!

Another question- will the other Life Series be canon (ie. Secret Life)?

I mean, prooobably? This is a pretty lengthy fic so I can imagine some hints/ easter eggs could be fine but I’m focusing more on the first four series (and personally I wasn’t super into Secret Life, but that’s just a me thing, not a plot thing)

I’m considering doing that Flower Husbands AU for Secret Life, but for now I want to focus on this AU and the four series it’s based on.

Here’s a random fun fact that I’m a bit miffed about but I’m sure will be worth the payoff- I love, love Scott and Pearl’s dynamic in this fic a LOT (god forbid the four playlists I made for this AU and one of them is JUST those two.) but you don’t see their dynamic until a certain point. grrr.

Not sure if I’ll ever have these playlists go public, but if you’d want to hear em let me know and I’ll switch em on!

So yeah, that’s all for now! I hope everyone is just as excited as I am, and I cannot wait to show you what’s behind these curtains. See you in the next chapter!

#the sea prince au #limited life smp #limited life #life series #life smp #trafficblr #majorwood #mean gills #coral kids #scottyn #martyn inthelittlewood #martyn itlw #inthelittlewood #scott smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname

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muzzlemouths · 1 year

Note

Prompt: "We dont have to do anything at all if that's what you want." Would be good for a bit of post panic comfort.

this prompt came right when I needed it too ngl...........

Sun & Moon Centric // Wordcount: 1,440

It starts with a bad day.

A bad day turns into a bad week, the bad week becomes a headache, then a migraine, and that migraine creates tension. The tension builds into restlessness. Overstimulation.

Which then becomes panic.

The first time you have an attack at work, it’s in front of Sun. It’s in the middle of your shift and it happens like all panic attacks do; like spilt milk, triggered by the smallest inconvenience. You aren’t sure what causes it - your shirt sleeve getting wet, a book falling on your toe, a child screaming just a little too loud - it could have been any number of things. You can’t remember. The moment was lost to you.

What you do remember is Sun’s face. He’s busy with a game when you catch yourself in the midst of it, and he looks up just in time to see you making a run for the door. A hand locked over your mouth, limbs shaking, tears on the brink of escaping, it’s all you can do just to get outside the two Daycare doors before all of it spills over.

Things are different after that. Something’s tilted, off kilter. Not on the brink of panic but drifting in the aftershocks of it, where the world is still only a distant whisper. You’ll get through it - or over it. You always do. It doesn’t mean the episode is any easier to bear, because you’re not really processing (you don’t have the energytimecourage to) you’re just enduring. The feeling will eventually become an afterthought.

Sun treats you like dainty orchid. Like any slight inconvenience will result in torn petals and another fit of tears. Maybe that’s the guilt; he wasn’t able to get to you that day - not without leaving the Daycare - and by the time you returned it was with a tight smile and a promise that you were alright. A lie he is quick to point out, and one you don’t fully deny.

He tiptoes around you at half his usual volume. He offers every opportunity to be a listening ear, convinced you aren’t going to get better until you talk out the storm cloud above your head.

And maybe that’s what you needed - to talk things out - but you sure as hell weren’t going to do that. What was the point? Talking was hard. Talking meant exposing things you’d prefer were kept hidden, especially when you already spent all of your energy on just existing. It would happen again, inevitably, and you would repeat this whole process without ever solving anything. Talking won’t change that.

He switches gears only a few days in. Distractions. If you can’t (won’t) talk about it, you must simply be overwhelmed by it. Breaking the emotions down into tiny bite-sized pieces will make them easier to digest, he thinks. Enough distraction and you might not think the issue is so big, you might not see it as this horrible, intimidating thing, and you might do something to confront it. Or, at the very least, let him in to fight the demons off in your stead.

So he pulls out all the stops. His offers to play games go continuously ignored, your favorite songs just bounce off your ears even when blasted through the Daycare speakers. His art makes you smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, and he can tell. He can see it.

Nothing he does is what you need. When you trip, the bruise doesn’t go away overnight. Sometimes it turns an ugly color, first. Sometimes it takes weeks to disappear. Even then, the skin beneath it remains tender until it’s ready to move on. You can’t rush this soreness.

There’s no way to explain the process in a way he’ll understand.

There comes a point when he seems to acknowledge this. Somewhere towards the end of the week he stops trying all together, days of energetic attempts without success finally getting to him. He was built for joy. Built for comfort. This was an itch in his protocol that he couldn’t scratch and it was beginning to wear on him. He didn’t have the answers.

But maybe someone else did.

Sun is mostly quiet when you arrive at the Daycare that day - a sharp contrast to his usual habit of filling the air with speech bubbles - you don’t try to stop him. Not while he’s talking, and not when he stops, gets up, and moves somewhere out of view.

There’s several hours more to your shift and you’re content to stay here, slouched against a foam block, knees to your chest and all alone, until that time is up.

Sun has other plans; he always does. It’s a persistence that’s endearing on the best of days and frustrating on the worst, and you don’t have the mood for either today. You can only expect he has some new concept to get you up and moving, talking, living again, that he’ll return with party poppers or a new string of jokes to try out.

The change from day to night is an abrupt one. You don’t see him flip the switch, and if he says anything you don’t hear it - but the lights undoubtly go out, one by one, and you’re left in the resulting dark. A little early, you think, but it’s the only thought to cross your mind before your chin returns to your knees.

Moon’s arrival is inevitable. You hear him before you see him; silvery bells ringing in an otherwise silent room. Nothing more. You don’t bring yourself to greet him, and he doesn’t expect a hello. Doesn’t sound annoyed at the lack of one.

He’s silent himself when coming to a stop at your feet. Says nothing when he sits in the spot beside you. The foam gives at his weight, forcing your shoulders to collide. He doesn’t say anything then, either. You keep your head low, tucked into your knees, and despite all prior evidence stating that Moon will tease and taunt you for the mood, today he is quiet.

It’s unnerving at first. You think that he’s mad at you - that maybe Sun tattled on your lack of communication and has sent Moon to finish the job. You think he’s just waiting for a good opportunity to prod at your sores and rub salt in the wound. Indifference becomes anxiety. After the week you’ve had, you’re convinced the other shoe is about to drop.

But it never comes. Moon mostly reflects your position; knees tucked to his chest, arms wrapped loosely around them. You can see his telltale red glow every few minutes - checking up on you, apparently - but still saying nothing.

You sniffle, burying your eyes into your sleeve and cursing the way they sting. You already made a fool of yourself in front of Sun, you didn’t want to repeat the process with Moon, who evidently wasn’t in the mood to talk with you anyways.

Eventually you have to break the silence.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” You force your way around a swallow, “Try convincing me to talk? Tease me for crying? Something?”

“Do you want me to?” His answer comes quick, catching you off-guard. He looks at you from the corner of his eye.

“It’s what I expected…” your fingers clench around the fabric of your pants. You wipe your face on your sleeve, clearing your throat. It croaks all the same. “You’re really not going to push me to talk?”

His eyes leave you, looking ahead, “We don’t have to do anything,” he tells you, “if that’s what you want.”

You lift your chin, but his gaze remains off to the distance.

The returning silence answers his question.

His arms raise into a stretch, then lazily curl behind his head. He settles deeper into the foam with the intention of making himself comfortable for however long you'll be there.

You don’t realize how much of your weight was supported by his shoulder until you’re slumped to the side and landing square against him.

He says nothing about it, and you don’t, either.

It stays like this for some time. True to his word, Moon doesn’t push for anything. You sit in relative silence instead; your head on his chest, his arm eventually settling over your back. And you’re fine with that - with all of it. You aren’t pressured to feel okay, like this, and Moon doesn’t expect you to try.

It’s everything you need for the moment. No talking, no expectations, no pushing for you to reach at a happiness that still felt too distant. Sometimes silence speaks the loudest, and all that.

Him simply being here, beside you in the quiet, is more than enough.

#this drabble was brought to you by Small Hands by Radical Face #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #sun x reader #moon x reader #drabbles

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lonelysheepling · 1 year

Text

Advice for artists and non-artists but mainly just artists

You know how you do a thing for so long that it’s becomes super mundane and insignificant to you, like when you’re sewing something you just do a basic stitch and struggle to tie a standard knot at the end. But you don’t do this often enough for it to stand out to you. You’re an artist, hey maybe even a professional one, and you’ve been doing your art a certain way for a long time. You use pose references and look up environment pictures to reference. But you still draw shoes without a reference or you draw clothes without any detailed folds.

At various points in my art journey I tried using tutorials, resources, and step by step guides for drawing certain things, be that nature brushes, drawing noses front-on, etc. and my skills at the time were kinda basic so I could never really pull off the tutorials in a way that satisfied me. I then went years just improving on broad areas like perspective and posing, focusing more on the overall composition than the minor details. But one day, years later, I got bored and decided to look up how to draw clothing folds

On the left of the green line is some previous work, on the right was two pieces I drew after I heavily referenced cloth physics

Ignore the shading, lighting, colors, etc. the stuff on the right definitely has way better flow than the stuff on the left. Now it wasn’t like a “wow I used a reference and now I’m a master” situation, there was an adjustment period with some less than stellar examples

But when I created those first 2 folds it was like a fucking switch was flicked in my head and I’ve been improving ever since. I am immensely grateful that I just happened to go looking for reference photos because holy shit something as simple as improving my clothing folds massively boosted my confidence in my work. Something I’ve noticed after I followed tutorials is that during the adjustment period, while the first couple of pieces are very reminiscent of the source tutorial, they start to get a little too far off and I stop referencing the tutorial and start doing my own thing (for better or for worse), but there’s then a period afterwards where I go back (maybe after re-watching the original tutorial) and develop it more into my own style.

Here’s a graph to better explain my thought process

Here’s another gun to the head reminder to use references. Recently I was drawing shoes for a character and I have a pretty consistent method of drawing shoes (consistent, not good).

But I wanted it to look more rugged so I looked up an image of a hiking boot and guess at what point in this timelapse that the reference was pulled up

I had for years tried using tutorials and reference photos but the process never really clicked for me. But over the years I have improved my technical skills and I believe that those improvements and all that practice made it way easier for me to understand and replicate tutorials, i understand now how the specifics of certain things like shading and depth work, picking up new skills that are still in the area I work in became way easier. But Im obviously still finding areas in my art by random chance that I can improve on. Because I don’t think about those parts anymore, they’re in the background of my design process.

This is where my advice to non-artists comes in. Look up tutorials. For anything. You know earlier when I mentioned sewing? Look up a guide on stitching, I just learned today what a surgeons knot is despite having been hand stitching for years. You don’t know what you don’t know, you don’t seek out improvement when you don’t perceive the need to improve. Trust me, there’s always areas to improve but you are going to have to stretch your mind at some point to recognize them. Everybody talks about how you should use tutorials and use references and all that, but I don’t think many people are going to research tutorials for things they don’t feel like they need improvement in.

. Anyway that’s the end of my monthly psa

If something in this post confused you feel free to send me like an ask or a brick through my window with a note attached to it, I’m not picky.

#somewhat art related #art tutorial #art help #art advice #psa i guess #long post #no alt text #ask to tag #advice for artists

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