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raraeavesmoriendi · 3 days

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Hello your tags on that recent Watcher post were chefs kiss and I feel so bad for the Watcher crew now that they know their fans are selfish and don't care about them as people or their artistic integrity.

(context)

man, like. I don’t know how those guys are supposed to just keep going with their sillier shows and act like so many people watching their shit didn’t just very loudly and publicly announce that they haven’t liked anything since BFU, especially when they left buzzfeed to start watcher in the first place bc they wanted to make the shows they were actually interested in and excited about.

and the number of people who have decided to like, personally harass them and people adjacent to them like sara? the fact that people harangued her when it has nothing to do with her, and then mocked her when she tried to say something? someone literally went through her socials and talked about “she bought this $100 bag how dare she,” like. it’s literally none of their fucking business, that doesn’t come out of production money. I can’t imagine how shane and ryan feel thinking now anything the fans don’t like will splash back on their families and have people digging through any and everything available to justify that harassment. god forbid any of the guys have kids anytime soon, bc these people can’t be trusted not to want to harass them too. not to mention the number of people saying staff should be fired, in a recession, like are you fucking joking.

because they can’t watch their goofy ghost show or puppet show for free. like.

yeah, six dollars can be a lot of money when you’re not making a lot. but it also doesn’t justify treating people like they’re not human and worthy of dignity, just content machines for the good brain chemicals.

I understand people’s relationship with media has changed since both the adoption of social platforms and since we’re living in Interesting times. but now it seems impossible to ignore just how willing they are to ignore the humanity at the center of it as long as they keep getting their content fix.

anyway. I wish the boys the best of luck at the live show. I would just be refunding everyone at this point and taking a fucking break.

thank you for the kind words, though, I appreciate it 🖤

#nice people #and then rarae says #rae grumbles #(just in case)#watcher

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bleucalire · 4 months

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Hey hey hey! First of all, your art is SPECTACULAR. I love the shapes of it all and how it manages to be cute but still have strength and realism to it!!

one question - have you ever considered making any art tutorials? I just know that at the stage of art I’m at right now even like 2 minute tutorials on how to draw things like faces with perspective + shape and hands are really helpful, and your style is so fun that I would literally binge watch tutorials if you made them 😭

Keep being awesome and taking care of yourself!!!

Hi !! You can take a look at one of the ask i replied just before this one ! I did a masterposts of my favourite references/studies to do !

I’m not planning on making any tutorial i’m sorry… i wouldn’t know how to explain things very well i’m afraid. But I just realised i can share my procreate timelapse at least (it’s super quick, but you can stop it whenever you want if you want to see how i draw the sketches etc. !)

(Yes i draw many different pieces on the same files 🙈)

#my art #ask #nice people #timelapse #good omens

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arabriddler · 2 months

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your harley is so squishy and cute, I'm obsessed with her

Thank you ! I was just drawing her again. This is more in her reformed era working alongside Jonathan in Arkham

#Harley Quinn #jonathan crane #asks #nice people #bee's art #nahlaverse

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lokischocolatefountain · 11 months

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Hiii if you’re still taking requests, could we have more angsty, jealous Javier? You write his character so good, i love all of it!!! Your married series was absolutely fantastic <3

Javier Peña is not a jealous man. The women he’s with have multiple partners beside him- they’re informants, sex workers, and a lot of times both. He’s no juvenile and doesn’t expect them to not do their job because he can’t share. Besides, there’s a clear transaction with these women- sex in exchange for dollar bills, intelligence in exchange for a visa.

Javier Peña is not a jealous man. At least he doesn’t think he is until he’s with her (the professor he ends up marrying). The relationship starts out casual. She’s a beautiful woman who frequents the restaurant he frequents. They do the decent mating dance of flirtation and buying each other coffee before he takes her back to her place and fucks her thoughts out of her head.

He makes it clear to her that he isn’t looking for something serious. He hasn’t told her the exact nature of her job, but she knows. She has seen the gun on him. She has seen him on a raid, tactical vest on and hand enclosed around his gun. She kicks him out, but only after giving him a kiss and telling him she’d like to do this again. They were on the same page. Until they weren’t.

He’s bad at drawing boundaries. He kissed prostitutes on the forehead, asked them about their young kids and ailing parents, let them drone on about their hopes and dreams. Sure it was important to cultivate a relationship with his informants so that when things got dangerous, they would continue to… inform. But he enjoyed it. He liked knowing the women he slept with, liked asking questions and answering their questions. It was the only human thing left in his life full of violence.

He cannot draw boundaries with her at all. He eats from her refrigerator, drinks her liquor and lies down on her lap and lets her read English literature to him. He picks her up from work sometimes and drops her back the morning after. He fixes her faulty plumbing without even being asked. He finds her carrying heavy bags of groceries and offers to drive her to her place. He takes her grocery shopping and restocks her fridge. He tells himself it’s because he eats so much of her food. Just repaying her.

He’s picking her up from work one night. It boils his blood to learn that he isn’t the only one waiting in the parking area for her. There’s another guy, a professor like her, and he walks with her to his car. He should’ve driven away as soon as he noticed her with another man. But he doesn’t. He stares hard enough to burn a hole in the dress she wore when he first slept with her. It was flattering on her figure, highlighting her best assets— her entire goddamn body. Clearly she wore this dress when she was hoping to get laid. He drives away before she could notice him. He finds someone else that night. Plenty of fish in the sea, right? Except he screams her name when he’s balls deep in Helena.

She’s at their restaurant the next morning, having breakfast and drinking coffee like she didn’t go fuck someone else just last night. He sits at his old table instead of joining her like he always did. She looks a little hurt by it, but quickly fixes her expression to smile at him. Good. Be hurt. He is aware he’s being irrational. And a pig. She was free to sleep with all of Bogotá if she wished. God knows he did. She wasn’t doing anything wrong just like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But he’s angry at her anyway.

Work takes him to Medellin for days and when he returns, he finds himself at her doorsteps. He feels right at home in her arms, in her pussy, and he doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to get up and leave even though everything in him is begging him to leave before it was too late. He struggles between the rational part of him that knows it’s best to leave and the irrational one that wants to pull her to his chest and fall asleep breathing her in. She makes the decision for him.

She’d asked in the nicest possible way to fuck right off. Well, not really. But she might as well have kicked him out. She asks for clarification “what are we doing, Javi?” There is it, he thinks. He was always clear about his intentions with women, but he’s had a few of them believe that they could “fix” him. Whatever the hell that meant. And he had to break their heart, tell them it was just sex like they’d originally agreed. But she surprises him.

She calls him out on his shit, tells him he’s giving her mixed signals with taking her grocery shopping and meeting her up at work. She tells him he can’t have it both ways. “I have a date with a colleague this Sunday. It’ll be weird if I’m with him, thinking about how sweet it was of you to take my car for an oil change. That’s not umm…it’s not fuckbuddy stuff.” It’s boyfriend stuff.

Her drawing the boundaries for him should’ve helped. But god it doesn’t. All he wants to do that week is walk into her university campus and punch that fucker who was taking his girl out on a date. It was stupid, dangerous and reprehensible. But fucking hell, he couldn’t do shit while thinking about her with another man. Would she let the guy fuck her in his car like she let him? Would she cry his name? Would she accidentally let a low Javi slip out of her pretty lips out of habit?

He stops visiting the restaurant. He doesn’t need breakfast anyway. He fucks other women, fucks his own fist, but none of them come close to the euphoria of being inside her, of kissing her and drinking her moans in just as he made her cum on his cock. Nobody comes close. It’s for the best. He cannot afford emotional entanglements. It was for her good that she pulled away when she did. This was no life for anyone and attaching herself to him would mean having to endure his shit.

He can’t stop thinking about her. He freezes in the middle of the fucking street with his gun pulled on some guy because he thinks he saw her in the distance. It’s not her, he knows that. She was in Bogotá and he was in Medellin. It’s not her. But he sees her in everything. He finds himself reading fiction, for fuck’s sake. He finds her panties stuffed into the cushions of his couch and smells it to get himself off. It was creepy as shit, but it’s the hardest he’s come since he stopped seeing her.

He drives by their restaurant and catches a glimpse of her having breakfast with that guy. At their restaurant, at their table. He’s filled with rage towards her new man, at her. How could she just take this guy to their restaurant and have breakfast at their table? Like he didn’t even fucking exist. How long had this been going on? Was it well before he saw them in the parking lot that evening? Did she bring him here whenever Javi was away in Medellin?

He brings another girl to his leather couch that night and tries not to think about how she could be at home right now, fucking her colleague in the same bed she fucked him. Did she ask him about his interests? Run her fingers through his hair? Touch his arms and tell him how strong he was? He wants to laugh at himself. Of course she didn’t do that last one. The fucker she was with had noodle arms. They wouldn’t satisfy her. He wouldn’t satisfy her. Javi knew her body in and out, knew all the right buttons to push, had her wrapped around his little finger and his cock.

Two months and he’s strong in his resolve. He still think about her, still keeps her panties tucked under his pillow like a low grade pervert, still thinks of beating the shit out of her new guy. Hell, she was probably in love with him by now. Probably a nice guy who didn’t sleep around and actually came home on time.

It’s the oddest thing that breaks him. Surveillance pictures from Escobar’s family vacation. The piece of shit has a whole wife. Keeps his mother and cousin close. Even that fucking monster had family. Doesn’t he deserve to at least take the girl he can’t get out of his head to a nice dinner? Loneliness creeps into his days and nights. No matter how many informants he beds, there’s a growing void in his chest.

Rather than drive home that night, he drives to hers. He wakes her up at an odd hour and all he can think of is whether she was in bed with the new guy when he rang the doorbell. She looked both surprised and annoyed to find him at her door. He couldn’t blame her for either of those things— he did drop off the face of the Earth and it was way past a decent hour to drop by someone’s place. He wants to hold her face in his hand and press a kiss to her lips. But he didn’t have permission for that anymore. So he just says “Dinner?”

Series Masterlist

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phoenix-ohma · 10 days

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just wanted to say the way you draw kinito is so cute! love your art style !!

waaaaa??? REALLY that's so sweet omgjdbwfnwbdn AAAAHHHHHH u deserve flowerssss

#kinitopet #kinito the axolotl #kinito fanart #kinitopet fanart #nice people

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doyouknowthischaracter · 3 months

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this isn’t a submission, I just wanted to say I think you’re cool :)

#thanks! :3 #dyktc chatter #asks #anonymous #not a poll #nice people

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genderkoolaid · 3 months

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sometimes i see you responding to A Take and it's a take so bizarre i decide to just log off and look at a bunny. so in these trying times, i offer you one of my bunnies

bunmy :)

#m.#ask box #nice people

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shopwitchvamp · 1 year

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The long awaited POSITIVE reactions post is here!! Let's look at all sorts of good & nice things people have had to say about my blazed posts like these ❤

First off, we've got the "I approve of this blaze" crowd:

Then there's the people that caught a blaze but already go here:

If nobody got me, I know these ones got me:

This collection I can only call "Things That Make You Go OUGHH":

We've also got the people that yearn:

And finally, those that can NOT be contained:

😂 I love to see it. I really wanted to take the time to make this deep fried screenshot jumble and thank everyone that leaves nice comments and tags on my posts/blazes! I read all of them as they come in, and appreciate them so much. I know I'm usually just memeing on the haters when I post comments & tags, so it may seem like that's most of what I get. But there's WAY MORE people that are so happy to see what I've got to offer, and even happy to have stumbled across a blazed post. Seeing people's enjoyment and excitement truly makes my day! Thank you all so much, -Jessica (artist/owner) 💜witchvamp.com💜

#witch vamp #the positivity post is here!#thank you #tumblr #blaze #hashtag #tags #comments #replies #happy customers #nice people #you guys make everything worth it #screenshots #long post #text #tumblr blaze #guess what i'm gonna blaze this blaze post lol

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bottlecapsandotherthings · 2 months

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This Made Me Cry /pos

So, I went to look at Pokemon buttons. I found an ace pride one. The woman at the register was playing Pokemon Go, which I thought was cool. When I handed her the button and said that I wanted to buy it, she smiled, look at it and then at me in a way that I absolutely knew what she was thinking, and told me that I could take it for free.

I will never forget that moment.

I found someone supportive!

#collect-a-con #nice people #ace pride #cool button

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cosmo-naute · 21 days

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I don't know why any of this happened or why it happened to these specific people. But I know that in honour of those that are no longer with us and in honour of the survivors and the hostages - we will continue to live and we will thrive being every bit as Jewish as possible. We will be the very thing that we were murdered and attacked for - we will be Jewish, we will live in spite of those trying to erase us, there is no greater agony to these people then our existence and our success and our joy. It really is true that we have the resilience and strength from all of our ancestors built into us. It's ok to struggle and feel hopeless and feel guilty - just know that you and all of us will get back up again and we will be ok.

Thank you ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹I needed to hear this.

I see the hostages as my family even though I don’t know any of them personally and it hurts so much to know they are suffering😢

Sometimes I feel like the resiliency gene skipped over me.

#Israel #October 7 #jumblr #Judaism #Jewish #la tristesse #nice people #hostages #ask #asks #anon #anons #anonyme #anonymous

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opendirectories · 9 months

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#open directories #sign #bar #nice people

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bleucalire · 5 months

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Don t know if i missed any but

Would you mind sharing some headcannons for your ineffable rascals au?

It looks so adorable captivated me immidately 💚💚

Hi! Oh thank you for your interest in them!!

I did throw some stuff in tags on my first post of them, but i kinda changed the settings for their families so here are the current main lines i’m thinking of! (bad english incoming) :

(It is set in the 20’s/30’s)

- Few years ago, Anthony was found with a bleeding head (still has the scar on his right temple), amnesia, and without parents. He’s been living in an orphanage since then. He’s very good at stealing/pickpocketing (which Aziraphale strongly disapproves of), and often brings back snacks and stuff to the other children at the orphanage (where he is liked and respected, but he doesn’t speak much with the other kids). Of course the people in charge hate him and he often gets punished.

- Aziraphale lost his parents, they were doctors. He now lives with a very wealthy relative (the human counterpart for Metatron) who is quite manipulative with little Aziraphale. Human!Metatron gives a lot of money to charities and to orphanages (including the one where Crowley lives), but doesn’t actually care for the children there, and forbids Azi to meet with them (especially Anthony). He gives money because « it is the right thing to do » (and he might have other reasons…)

- They have a secret hideout in the woods that stands between human!Metatron’s manor and Crowley’s orphanage

- Anthony calls Aziraphale « Az » most of the time

I really want to explore more of this AU ! And also maybe animate them a little when i have time !!!

#good omens #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable rascals #my art #ask #nice people #ineffable husbands #sketch

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arabriddler · 15 days

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I will never get tired of seeing your Eddie, he is literally perfect

He is soooo silly

#Thank you!#Ask #nice people #the riddler #Edward nygma #bee’s art

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lokischocolatefountain · 11 months

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well if you are taking requests, itd be great to see more touch starved joel, joel who is so afraid of hurting you in bed but bruises you anyways, joel who flinches when you yocuh him after nightmares but then comes closer when you pull away.

I love this request 🥺🥺 You are very right and Joel Miller is a touch starved man and deserves to be fed. So, here you go

Our Normal

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: Mature (Mention of violence, sexual situations)

A/N: I loved writing this and I hope the anon who requested it has fun reading it 💜 Also, I have a Javi request that was sent before this but the man was being so uncooperative so I had to ditch him for Joel for a while.

Joel was never a physically affectionate man. His love is shown through acts of service for the people he loves, through protecting them from everything in the universe. That changes when he becomes a father in his early twenties. Sarah is just so little and so fragile and he needs to hold his baby girl because if he doesn’t, he might just explode. He gives her hugs and kisses and cuddles. She always gets kisses on the forehead and cheeks when he tucks her in.

When he loses Sarah, his world is effectively over and touch is no longer about affection. People don’t yet know how the infection spreads, so they keep from touching each other. Someone approaching you might be infected. If they touch you, it might be over. Touch is no longer a hug from his daughter or a pat on the back from his brother. It is deceiving a young man with a fake injury and begging him for supplies before putting his hands around his neck and strangling him to steal his car. It is a punch to his face, a kick to his stomach and an arm putting him in a chokehold.

With Tess, it is different. It is a squeeze to his shoulder when he wakes up from yet another nightmare of his child, still a toddler, asking him why he let her die. It is a quick fuck on the ground in the woods to relieve some tension. It is her slipping into bed with him and holding him because they have both agreed they need this without any words being exchanged. It is more than anything he has ever had with other women in his life. But it is never spoken of, it never means anything more, it just is.

He is in Jackson and life has become normal yet he cannot adjust to it. After two decades of leading a life that is anything but normal, the comfort of three meals a day, a roof over his head and certainty that he’ll wake up the next morning is frightening. He knows he will never adjust. Everyone else seems happy living this normal life, but it is something he will never accept. People hug and kiss and marry. Tommy holds his newborn in his arms and kisses his wife’s hand like it’s normal, like the last twenty years didn’t happen. He wants it too. It shames him to want, but oh how he wants to touch you, to hold your hand and cup your cheek and graze your finger when you hand him something. But he cannot give in. If he allows himself to slip into such comforts, he will not survive when it is taken away from him again. If he accepts it as normal, it will mean that he will have moved on from the loss. The loss of Sarah, of his…Tess.

He touches you once. It is a necessity. It is during patrol and you were about to step on a trap someone left to catch animals. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you back, but he keeps his hands on you for longer than necessary. You thank him a little dramatically for “saving my life” and he smiles. For the first time in a long time, it isn’t because of something Ellie said. He lets you go, grunts and walks along on the patrol route. His hand is twitching nervously by his side because holy shit he just touched you. When he lies awake that night, he recalls the roughness of your skin, thinks about whether it used to be soft before all this. Whether he would’ve liked your skin soft just as much he likes your now rough skin.

Someone in town in teaching pottery to pass on important skills so that nothing dies when one person dies. Ellie forces him to go with her even when he tells her he doesn’t give a shit about making goddamn pots. He stops complaining when he sees you’re also there to learn, even though you are more advanced than he is. Pottery doesn’t come to him naturally and Ellie laughs at him for spinning his wheel too fast and touching the clay too hard, making the thing collapse on itself. You laugh too, but then you help him. You place your hands on his and show him how to mold the clay. You show him how to trim the edges with the fancy tools. You place your creating next to his and Ellie’s in the kiln and shake his hand to congratulate him on his shitty bowl that would’ve been shittier if you hadn’t helped. He wonders what it would be like to slot his fingers in the space between your fingers.

It goes from joint patrols to joint pottery classes to joint drinks at the Tipsy Bison. You touch his arm, you place your hand on his, you brush your shoulder against his and it takes him a longass time while to realize you are flirting. He hadn’t been the subject of it ever since he became a single father wearing T-shirts covered in snot, baby food, mysterious sticky substances from Sarah using his shirt as tissues, Sarah’s blood— He panics, he flinches when you touch him. He apologizes, mumbles something about Ellie needing dinner and storms out of the place. He forgets to pay for his fucking drink and learns you decided to pay for him with more coffee than you’d planned on exchanging with the bartender.

He apologizes the next day, offers his private stash of old whiskey he found somewhere to make up for the coffee you’d lost because of him. But you surprise him, offering not just reassurance that it was alright but offering your understanding, telling him you were sorry for whatever you did to unintentionally trigger him and that if he told you what it was, you would never do it again.

You have your fair share of terrible days. You find him after patrol and ask to exchange your music cassette for some of his liquor. He gives it to you for free and you down half the bottle. You tell him you are afraid of being alone that night and he doesn’t have to ask questions to know that it’s something serious. He lets you stay. He holds you in him arms even though having contact without another person kills him. He realizes it kills him because he likes it and knows he doesn’t deserve things he likes. Not when his baby has become nothing in an unmarked grave he should’ve joined her in.

He never intends to have sex with you. It is no longer as much of a need as it used to be. He is older and his body has been through too much. Sex isn’t the need. You are. Holding your hand in his trembling hand isn’t enough. Touching your cheek when he kisses you isn’t enough. His hand on your lower back. Your hand in his hair, your head on his chest as you hugged— it wasn’t enough. No matter how much you gave, he wanted more. More and more and more.

You invite him to your bed and he goes. He knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t deserve whatever you’ve given him so far and definitely doesn’t deserve what you were going to give him next. He is afraid but he wants it so bad, wants you so bad. You are sweet, gentle, like you know he has a strange relationship with touch. You take your time when you get on your knees and nuzzle into his thighs and wrap your pretty lips around his cock. He tries to keep his hands away. He knows he should because if he got to touch you when you had his cock in your mouth, he would wrap your hair in his fist and fuck into your mouth, use you for gratification.

He digs into your thighs with his nails when he has them spread apart and his head between them, his lips devouring you like you were his favorite taste before the luxury of tasty things ceased to exist, like he was getting to experience his favorite taste after two decades of deprivation. He holds you in a death grip, leaves behind bruises and apologizes for them when he realizes what he has done. He tends to you, apologizes repeatedly, is gentler the next time.

He doesn’t sleep next to you. If he manages to fall asleep, he wakes up wishing he didn’t. Sleep without nightmares is a rarity. He could jolt up from bed or lie looking peaceful while his brain tortured itself with memories, both real and false. He doesn’t want you to see him in his most vulnerable moments. He doesn’t want to burden anyone with his anguish. He doesn’t want to look weak. He is supposed to be strong, be the protector, be the capable man you can rely on.

He wakes up after yet another nightmare and lies in bed, unprepared to face you as the weaker man he believes himself to be. You make him coffee and bring it to bed. You drink it with him. You hold his hand. He flinches, the effects of his nightmare persisting. So you pull away, allowing him his space when he pulls you back in. He doesn’t know what he wants, doesn’t know if it is right to want you like this— being there for him, comforting him, giving him a shoulder to lean on. He shouldn’t, but he leans anyway. You don’t ask him to talk about it and he appreciates it. You don’t need to know the gory details to know he’s hurting. You don’t need to hear the turmoil in his head to hold him to your chest and let him cry.

Maybe not talking wouldn’t be enough in the normal world. But that is a world they will never have again even if the cordyceps ceased to exist at once. So he adapts in love like he adapted to holding a gun in hands that held hammers and nails with nails painted by his little girl.

He grows used to it, but he still flinches sometimes. You flinch sometimes too. You learn each other’s boundaries, apologize when they’re crossed. Sleep still eludes him and he remains starved of touch, but he satiates himself as little as he could without overwhelming himself. His hands sometimes tremble when he touches you. He could never fall asleep in the same bed as you. It isn’t normal, but it is the normal he has with you and you are both content in it.

My Masterlist

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