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noneorother · 2 days

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The art director & the Good Omens book cover tier list of doom, part 1

part 1 l part 2

This is going to have to be a multi-part series because there are *checks notes* 64 different covers that I've found so far.

I am your resident Art Director/Good Omens enthusiast, and welcome to my completely meta-free book cover tier list. Listen, making a book cover is HARD. I should know. But while we salute these artists for their hard work and time, I think we can all admit that once in a while, the vision is just not on. And on very rare occasions, publishers seemed to have managed to commission the cover art directly from hell... 1. The original UK cover

Ahh, the standard by which all shall be judged. We're starting off with a nice & easy cover, with adorable woodcuts of Aziraphale and Crowley flanking a custom Good Omens font! While I have to take a few points off for the terrible kerning of the word "GoOD", the blockprint vibes and general bitchiness of Aziraphale's teeny weeny wittle face, along with the sick colour palette puts the orignial in my good graces. Tier: Great

2. The duelling US covers

Progress! Hail to the designer who figured out trying to make "GoOD" and "OMeNs" fit the same width was a fool's errand, and even managed to IMPROVE on the original handmade title by adding a little halo and devil's tale to the design. Aziraphale and Crowley are facing each other, while also managing to serve absolute cunt. Aziraphale is wearing EIGHTIES SNEAKERS. Crowley's little snake boots have HEELS. They've managed to keep the woodcut vibes and colour simplicity, while balancing out the full title of the book. Both authors get to trade off on who's name comes first! Dare I say, this is a work of genius. I could dock some points for Crowley's sad bat wings growing out of his right clavicle, but who am I to question greatness.

Tier: Blessed by God Herself

3. The Halo Master Chief(?) cover

How the mighty have fallen... As a Canadian child, I was subjected to maybe the most horrifying ad in existence by the War Amps warning children about machine safety. This cover is the paper embodiment of that ad. I am confused by the purple haze. I am frightened by the seeming ethereal flatness of Adam and Dog. I am strangely aroused by Aziraphale's eyebrows, and intensely saddened by the terrible outline/drop shadow they had to inflict on the type to fit "Pratchett" in that god awful space. Tier: WTF

4. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers

This cover inexplicably exists in two colour ways: red and teal. I put the audiobook cover here so you could experience the full illustration, and also how fucked up it is that they cropped the book version to include three horse-people of the apocalypse, but cut off DEATH on the regular cover. Points must be given for drawing a pretty slick Bentley, but I think we have to take even more points away for turning Crowley into a Ray Charles/Mike Wazowski hybrid. The ducks are nice. Tier: Not so Good (Omens)

5. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers continued

I don't know if the German designer of this cover *knew* that they were using western yeehaw cowboy woodblock letters when they made this cover, but judging by how they spaced the rest of the text at the bottom, THEY DID NOT CARE. And that seems to be a running theme for this one. We get kind of a duality thing going on with the black and pink background, but it just seems like somebody whispered the general themes of Good Omens into a jar, and threw it down a well, and this poor chap came along and picked it up. The baffling choice to align every piece of text on the cover *except* Neil Gaiman's name which is right aligned and rotated 90 degrees (not even real vertical type) will haunt my dreams, I think.

Tier: Bad

6. US, UK The Traffic Jam cover

For the love of Good Omens, WHY. I can think of so many more interesting symbols to put on the cover of this book than the ODEGRA SIGIL TRAFFIC JAM. Props for keeping the good colours and type, but like, I think this cover was secretly designed by @amtrak-official, or someone who just really, really likes public works. Tier: Does the Job

7. France, De bons présages cover

Leave it to France to make sure people know that Aziraphale and Crowley fuck severely. While I can't condone leaving out half the title of the book (and thinking a red carpenter's square counts as decoration), I can begrudgingly acknowledge that Ron Pearlman and Benedict Cumberbatch's love child is excellent Crowley casting. I think I give this a solid dark academia/10. Tier: Good (Omens)

8. France, De bons présages covers continued

Just imagine with me, if you will, the absolutely hilarious reality that this cover posits: Good Omens is exactly the same in every respect, but Crowley drives a pink 1950s convertible. Why do all of the colours on this cover look like they've been pre-digested? Why are the font choices and placement so bafflingly bad. My face is the demon's face holding that car. I feel his pain.

Tier: WTF

9. France, De bons présages covers continued

Minus points for not managing to write the full title of the book once again. I don't know what it is with the French. They seem pretty set on Good Omens being demonic. While I do appreciate a good Bosch-style demon party, the dude in the middle confounds me. All-caps Museo Sans that isn't even *centred* in the frame is just so lazy. I am le tired. Tier: Bad

10. France, De bons présages covers continued

Uhh. The font. The font is okay.... I think? Yeah. The font and kerning are. Okay. OHHH GOD I LOOKED DOWN BELOW THE TEXT WHYYYY. Tier: WTF

END of round one. I need a nap.

#good omens 2 #good omens fandom #good omens #art director talks good omens #tier list #cover art #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale x crowley #book cover #go s2 #gomens #good omens analysis

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lilies-n-slander · 3 days

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just my unstructured thoughts on “complicated and sad”

I’m not huge on radiostatic and haven’t thought about the dynamic as much as other people so probably I’ll be retreading common ground

radiostatic friendship had to have broken up for smth more ideological, it would honestly be a bit boring/disappointing if it was just over the unrequited romance aspect (but it was likely a contributing factor)

the fact that vox asked alastor to join his team gives a few clues

I think atp vox still thought positively of alastor while alastor’s opinion of vox was starting to deteriorate. Vox respected alastor enough to *ask* him to join, rather than manipulate or try to force him

if that’s the case, then whatever vox did that alastor hated likely wasn’t malicious (but knowing vox, it was still a bad/harmful thing)

it seems like the kind of situation where alastor showed discomfort and vox refused to change and didn’t understand what he was so mad about

what could vox have done that alastor disliked so much that it ruined a previously good friendship?

using people? Alastor does that

owning souls? Alastor does that

killing people? Alastor does that

associating with and enabling ppl like val? Maybe? It seems like an arbitrary line to draw, altho one of the comics shows alastor killing an attempted rapist

influencing people’s perception of them through media? Alastor does that, but maybe it was the difference of method that he didn’t like (hypnosis vs charisma)

being fake? Alastor does that but is better at it than vox (smiling to hide weakness)

being weak*? (*not just physically) Now we’re talking. Alastor hates weakness, both in other people and himself. He hates when people let their composure slip and tries to exploit any weakness he sees. Maybe it disgusted him to see someone he thought was strong actually prove to be weak, insecure, and pathetic

a combination of the last three seems the most plausible to me (especially considering what things alastor disses vox for in stayed gone), but I’m still struggling to come up with something that has the right amount of “oomph” to it

I’m curious what alastor initially liked about vox in the first place?

did he only like him bc he thought vox was stronger than he actually was?

has vox just changed so much over the years that the vox alastor formed a friendship with was basically a different person? That would make me curious about what sparked that change in vox—was it a particular incident or gradual corruption?

does alastor hate modernity because of vox or does he hate vox because of his modernity?

leaning twds the former, the way alastor speaks abt tech has a personal tinge to it

most of vox’s hostility twds alastor is prob due to what alastor did as rejection

supported by vox not having much variety of his insults in stayed gone

yes he’s pathetic and might be salty that he doesn’t return his feelings, but I feel like that’s not the whole explanation

does “I thought he was gone *for good* too” imply that alastor has previously disappeared or been shooed away by the vees and came back soon after?

“he owes us a lot more than money” + “things have changed a lot since he left town… …I gotta send a message of who’s really in charge of things now” = before he disappeared, alastor was previously in control, possibly by sabotaging the vees and overthrowing them?

I didn’t rlly mention “still pissed he almost beat you that time?” bc that had to have been after the fallout, so not as much to dig into there (this isn’t to say that I don’t desperately want a flashback of it lol)

hmmmmmmmnfgh… so many questions

I really hope their backstory has already been mostly planned out, bc it seems like something that would go poorly if you just made it up on the fly

#hazbin hotel #vox #alastor #onewaybroadcast #.txt #meta

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yan-lorkai · 3 days

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Hi hiii I'm the anon that requested the Charlie! Reader and I was wondering- would it be weird to ask for a Adam! Reader with yan! Idia, Leona, Malleus, and Vil? (If you it's too many feel free to remove anyone! ^^)

And can I be Beanie anon? If it's alright?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: It's not weird at all. Adam has it's charms though he isn't one of my favorites character so this end up a little short. Also yes, you absolutely can be Beanie anon (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

The first human, the one who saw everything and did everything. An angel of the highest rank, despite all his arrogance, superb character and foul vocabulary, you find yourself trapped here, still doing things your way, ordering and mocking everyone. Some students hate you, others love you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ For Vil, you are incorrigible. Someone he doesn't see why he loves as intensely as he does. Or maybe it's just because you two are so different that he feels curious at first and then interested. Still, there are many things you must work on to achieve your best, many things he will make you change, no matter what techniques he has to use. Doesn't care about your status but he does get curious about heaven. What does it look like? Did humans portray heaven right? As much as he is the one manipulating and twisting the threads to control you, Vil is also curious and someone as old and "wise" as you could use that to silence him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia... Idia finds you intimidating, out of his reach, a UR+ card he'll never get no matter how much he farms and pulls. He starts watching you soon after you appear in this world, waiting to see what he would have to deal with if your paths ever crossed. You are intriguing, strong and confident, everything he is not, everything he wanted to be. He is a little surprised when he finds out about your high status and angel powers, but he is confident that he can defeat you and lock you inside STYX if you ever have to fight.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He doesn't care about your angel status, your powers, about heaven or the purge that takes place annually in hell. Leona doesn't care about any of that, preferring to think and plan how to shut you up when you go on and on about how you're the first human and everything you've ever seen and done. Due to your different powers, Leona tends to use more physical force against you, which usually ends in a draw since you both are strong. But you love the challenge, teasing and mocking him. "How bold of you, Kingscholar, trying to kidnap the first human!" How does it end? With a headache for Leona, so many people for him to obsess over and he fell in love with this troublesome angel.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Malleus think you're funny and he likes to watch you interact with your peers. He is like a researcher watching its subject doing random things, being fascinated. He does not mind your status but offer to help with the purge that happens in hell if you want. He would also like to hear you talking about whatever you have seen and done as you are older than him. Talk about heaven, about the earth, about anything you like, he'll hear you with a smile on his face the whole time. Though if you both fight someday he straight up just use his unique magic to trap you inside a dream.

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boringmarinn · 2 days

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Why do you ship Sans x Frisk? As a person who ships them myself, what do you see in them, like about them? Personality traits, situations, tropes etc, anything that comes to mind, what makes you enjoy them and continue to breathe life to them?

Omg ok sooo... When I realized I was already shipping Sans and Frisk, maybe because I love the trope of the funny ironic character who has secrets and the silent protagonist who have a lot of will and power. I also have a soft spot for monster x human interactions, relationships and seeing several AUs with the two of them was what made me like it even more.

I think I liked them visually because the sprites in the game are so cute and the same size and the colors match and so on. I also see Sans more as a teenager and Frisk as well so i almost always draw and write them close. Frisk have a lot of secrets that Sans knows about and vice versa, and both have this drama about fate, about powers that can destroy, judgment and guilt, responsibility and determination i found super interesting.

I absolute love the concept of Frisk being a "more than a simple human" thing, a deity, some powerful force that can be either benevolent or dangerous when in contrast with Sans that's "just a normal boss monster" or something like that. I'm in love with Frisk being a god what just wants to live a normal life, having a normal family and a happy life and find this wish coming true with their monster family, and they find love with that one monster who has kept his eye socket on them all this time, seeing the sweetness and love that they share.

I also love the angst in the forbidden love thing, like, monster and human love being a taboo...

Frisk It's a character that ended up growing in my hand while I was drawing and creating, so to speak. I didn't want to let Frisk become that cliché of cute and lovable, so she/they transformed a little too quickly hehe. Today It's very different and that adorable cover is just a disguise for the real Frisk. Which isn't a terrible evil being either, it's just harder to comprehend and morally gray. They're determined still, to being a better person and changing the order of things and changing fate.

Sans I don't even know where and how to start because he has been my main and if not my most intense and prolonged hyperfocus. I have a lot of fun writing and drawing it in many different ways, with my favorite being this ironic, calm and funny little guy, but who carries a huge weight on his shoulders for the people he loves, a guy who worries too much about simple things and is a bit anxious and uncertain about the future.

Soo... Well i think that's a lot of reasons people like them two. They're two little guys, they go around the time and space, (like sans can teleport in space and frisk teleports in time thats so cool aaaa) them both like papyrus and toriel very much, they two are poker faced deadpan funny faces

I find them fun and even more fun is seeing other talented artists in the community doing their own interpretations of them in such unique ways. I love seeing fans making content for fans and how the characters change drastically in each person's hands, it's beautiful

#sans x frisk #underground club au #marintalks #frans #thanks for the ask!!#I really wanted to write a text like this explaining things better #I feel lighter #thanks youu!!

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ashesbreadandbutter · 2 days

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I've got one: an Adam that can SEE soulmates. He grins nastily as he takes a GOOD LONG look at Alastor and SMIRKS "Vox, huh? You love him, hmm? I can see it written right on your disgusting soul Al-ass-tor. Annnnd even better he's your soulmate. I kill him, I cause you unimaginable pain and suffering for eternity without touching you." And then he takes off, leaving Lute and his army to take care of the hotel--who HEARD HIM to search for Vox.

The Vees are in full out panic mode, of course. They have no idea what to do. Vox say he can carry both Val and Vel through the electricity but they need a location to go too--abd the vacation home is too far, he doesn't have the juice.

Valentino is pissed at Vox for being Alastor's soulmate, and panicking about the certain death heading their way.

Velvette doesn't care: "Take us as far as you can to the vacation home and we can steal a car!"

Alastor is RAGING. How DARE that pompous f-wit threaten what is HIS?!? (Although he is pleased Adam did announce Vox was his too all of Hell. Now no one would dare try to date Vox after he killed the moth.)

(Feel free to use :3)

Thank you anon because I definitely WILL be taking this.

No really this is good, honestly you anons are helping write the best voxal fanfic with me as well speak. I think after I finish my current writing coms today then I'll start on this story. It honestly sounds really fun and I'm a bit of a slow burn kinda gal with a passion for angst so this is definitely up my alley.

The idea of Adam coming in? Mwah!

Like imagine the way Alastor freezes the moment Adam says that stuff about going after Vox and especially before Vox finds himself having to defend the vees. Bro doesn't even know what's going on at first and that he's basically one of the reasons it's happening. Imagine his shock if Alastor does hunt him down before the angels get there, both confusion AND relief showing on his face just to see Alastor. Though there's also annoyance.

"ugh! I could have handle a few angels Alastor!" He growls after Alastor grabs them after fighting and imagine something like after Alastor saves them he and Vox are having this argument just for Vox to stop when it seems Alastor did in fact take some damage.

"a few isn't tons Vox." Alastor would most like his back while cradling a wound and Vox might as well be the one to help him clean it up, matter of fact he has too because everyone is rather fearful of the pair. Alastor doesn't want anyone to deal with the wound like a stubborn dog unless it's Vox and this could leave them a lot of time just to sit with each other. It's silent as Vox carefully cleans his wounds, gentle and careful not to do anything that would hurt even more and then as he's looking over Alastor's body he'll glare at nothing halfheartedly, brows burrowed in confusion and annoyance.

"why'd you do something so stupid?" He'll ask and I can see Alastor's ear twitching. Vox basically asks him what's his problem. Why'd he go out there to fight so many angels and over HIM of all people? He's both flattered and a bit unnerved.

If Alastor really did all that to help him then maybe he SHOULD go back to the hotel just to keep an eye on Alastor's healing though maybe it's just a way to get closer because though Vox being Alastor's soul mate is life changing on his own, knowing and seeing Alastor after such a fight and touching his wounds really manages to draw Vox in. Like he wants to be with Alastor in the same bed and everything as he heals.

I wanna say Alastor will heal with no issue but imagine a case where he doesn't. Where the angel blades hold off his healing for just long enough to where Vox is actually worried over the other man.

This could be an interesting part to rebuild their connection. Seeing Alastor almost die while showing Hell that Vox BELONGS TO HIM really makes the TV demon flustered and more than he's ever been before. (Vox likes knowing Alastor is possessive enough to literally have a battle of his own with heaven. It makes him feel special and more than he ever has before)

I'd like to say this situation really convinces Vox but with their history he's worried about getting too close even though he wants to.

He's scared of falling in love with Alastor because what it its 'not the right time' again?

Vox is definitely an over thinker in this case, will sit through the healing process for Alastor but maybe he finds Alastor's words to be a fluke? Did he really mean it? Yeah he almost DIED but he couldn't possibly- he definitely means it.

They've had their history but Vox is a runner now and Alastor wants to chase him. After all, who could know him better than his old friend and whether Vox likes it or not no one would DARE (especially after the shocking announcement that they are soulmates) take Alastor's destined spot in his life.

I honestly love these ideas and I have many myself, keep em coming y'all!

- A

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fantomette22 · 2 days

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Ok, let’s hear about your favorite Gehrman and Maria happy AU!!

With pleasure!!!! :D

Ok so for context yesterday I refound this post :

And I was like "hey guys in my happy AU Gehrman could totally get or make something like this for Maria!" And then it spiralled into "oh I completely forgot to explain my bloodborne "happy ending AU" so there it is finally I guess. I think I only share to a couple of persons so far XD (I have a few others many different AU and darker but it isn't for today).

I already did a few drawings in link with it : here, here, here and there. Yeah with the gehrmaria ship involve so pass your way if that isn't your thing.

I did end up making the cottage house of the AU in Minecraft since a few months ago by the way XD I even have a tanner, hunter and a freaking cleric villager who now took possession of the house 😂😭 even Laurence decided to live here now I can't. I would need to redo it I kinda screw up proportions I think. Sadly Minecraft bedrock doesn't offer to put many details. I guess it would be better in the sims? If someone knows a good game to built house (and 19th century one) I'm taking it!

So now about the AU it's kinda an AU of my fic verse who can be consider like an AU as well I suppose (even if I tried to stay as canon complaint as possible in this one). Like you can guess from the name Yharnam doesn't became hell on earth and most people don't end up dying horribly. I will copy paste below the summary so you I can explain it better.

Bloodborne happy/good ending AU Summary :

Basically after bloodborne game event (in my fic verse interpretation) our dear baby squid good hunter decided it was rewind time and give everyone a 2nd chance. Don't ask me how

Then it's not clear but either the souls of everyone were taken and yet back in their old self, decades earlier of if people from the past dreamed of the future or a weird mixt of both. But it's what happened. Decades before the game invent (Byrgenwerth era) people started wake up and remember events that haven't happen yet + message from the new great one that they were giving a 2nd chance to make things right etc. It feels like a very strange dream but they knew it was real. Some people remember more than other and they especially remember their own future and they lived/are gonna live+ a couple of other things in game event for exemple.

Now it's up to them to not make the same mistakes and make things right.

So imagine it’s like 2-3am at Byrgenwerth, everyone wake up from well this dream/ nightmare and they basically remember everything that happened to them. So you haven hundreds of people outside in their pyjama. Crying, hugging, and some almost throwing hands with others 💀 quite emotional. I know it’s pretty crazy (i don’t have everything settle yet)

*Yeah you have people who were basically bestie at the time almost punching each other because one betrayed the other years later lol and people who didn’t like each other at Byrgen but become friends way later are hugging and crying. Some people were really confused xD like the one who die earlier on the timeline or weren't very important or just leave this mess early.

So of course you have Laurence & Gehrman crying and holding each other in pyjama in the middle of the dark campus. Then Maria show up in the distance 👁️👁️ it’s even more of an emotional reunion.

So you have this 2 idiots then Maria show up in the distance, they’re stunned and then Laurence tells him « what the hell you’re waiting for just go!!!» so he runs extremely fast (maria too) and they stop a few meters away from each other just staring. Then he tried to apologize says he’s sorry for everything. « YOU’RE SORRY?! » she’s kinda mad and sad about everything that happened she kinda hit him but he is surprise it’s not that hard then she hugs him and they hug each other and cry. (Yeah the Doll is discuss a bit later it's all good)

At some point Laurence try to eclipse himself and Maria’s like « you fucking stay here! » because she have things to say to this dumbass too.

So everyone reunite and all. With Caryll/ Rom/ Ludwig etc.They are hugging and all and then you have like Damian trying to kick Mico’s ass and nobody stopping him XD

Also Charles and Laurence threw hands 💀it’s a mess.

*People who’re not suppose to be very friends at this era are in each other arms and some bff are like throwing hands.

Then Willem show up and tell everyone to shut up and calm down 😂

Charles and Maria later go to Cainhurst to hug all their family who slightly remember all the shit too. And so it don’t cause a war again as well 😂 because they're kinda salty about their nightmares were the church + executioners killed them.

Anyway they all kinda calm down and some times later they’re all reuniting by Willem & Laurence because we need to talk about what the hell happened. « Yep that was real » now time to change it.

After this mess and discussing what the hell happened and « we need to changed things! » they need to make a big plan how to avoid the fishing hamlet pb and save the orphan. they also can't just not use blood because it does save lives so it's quite complex.

So years later (because the beginning of it during like Maria, Ludwig, Caryll & Rom's hm 3rd of 4th years of university) they manage to make sure the hamlet don't became fishmen, and help Kos give birth (she isn't dead yet but her physical body do die afterwards). And baby orphan is fine and taking care off 👍

Then it's party time 😎 Well they still have things to take care of but I didn't thought of all the details yet. So Maria & Gehrman officially get together 🎉 (never really happened in my main interpret, it's complicated) and some times later travel between Yharnam and other places to help people around (to put it shortly).

THEN they buy a house next to a forest and a small village and live there for some time, maybe start a family etc (see the drawing with the baby!! I won't get into all the family detail today through). So they got the cottage/country house ✨

How they found it? Well funny story one day old hunters were on the mission (not the happy au but fic verse) and the mayor leave the house to them so they could sleep for a few nights and Gehrman really liked the house and even made a deposit for it for a few years if one day he wanted to buy it XD

Then after some time they accidentally adopt a lil dog too (before the huge white wolfhound years later) XD

Something like this. Need to find a name for this lil guy.

And recently I've been thinking a cat could be cool too. A really fluffy one

I made those 2 other sketches last year in link with the AU as well. I never share those so there it is.

And I have a fic planned (1-2 chap max for now), an entire summary, a chapter plan and even a few sentences written for this AU in particular. But idk when I could write it. And I could even have 2 versions depending the rating @_@ so maybe one day...

So yeah it's a bit messy but it's all the fluff & some other things I need. And that's it for now!

#bloodborne happy ending au #gehrmaria #fantomette22art #sorry that was long XD #my asks #bloodborne au #bloodborne headcanons #gehrman the first hunter #lady maria of the astral clocktower #bloodborne

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goobygnarp · 1 month

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#good grief im gettin a lil tired of seeing 'DONT DO THIS' kinda art videos #i very much understand its a youtube thing and that clickbait names and thumbs get the views and attention needed #but it doesnt mean it doesnt annoy me or that I cant be annoyed by it #sometimes i just see it in tutorial pictures too #but the large DONTS with red Xs near the supposed ''wrong'' way of drawing is so demotivating #people start and draw in many ways than one #its what makes art their own #but when videos or tutorial posts are made and show the ''WRONG'' way to go about it #its like scolding the new artist or long time artist with that style that they're doing it wrong and that its bad #no matter the intention its not the way to go about helping artists learn to draw #and in my personal opinion #the click bait ''DONT DO THIS WHEN DRAWING'' thing is what keeps me from actually watching the vids #i get theyre probably helpful but i don't like that I have to feel some NEED or DESIRE to click on a vid cause I feel like I did a thing #wrong or that i never should have done it at all #i wish i could see more 'here are some tips that helped me #kinda vids cause yes i would love to learn what helped you rather than being or feeling wronged for drawing in a way that isn't theirs #im rambling but i have been seeing a lot of 'DONT DO THIS' NEVER DO THIS' 'IF YOURE DOING THIS STOP NOW' kinda art vids #im speakin for myself here #but im an artist sifting through art youtube or spaces always willing to learn new ways of improving my art #i dont need to feel click baited like the next 3am don't this kid to learn how to improve my inking skills #if it was more a 'this is my personal preference and I wanna share it with my audience and maybe teach some things' kinda vid #id watch that too #but im just so tired of seeing art youtube going down this need to tell folks 'YOURE DOING IT ALL WRONG. THIS IS THE RIGHT WAY"

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just-eyris-things · 9 months

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Vent post. Because i feel like kicking a hornets' nest.

Honestly im just tired of how people will call someone ignorant/uneducated and will go for the throat for every little thing, while they themselves say shit like pierogis all the time. If you're going to point fingers at others, you yourself should be without fault.

The question is... can you?

#im just so tired of all the shit that i constantly see on the internet #ARTIST CANCELLED BECAUSE THEY DIDNT DRAW SOMETHING PERFECTLY #or ARTIST CANCELLED BECAUSE THEY USED A DIFFERENT COLOUR PALETTE #ARTIST CANCELLED BECAUSE THEIR IDEA OF A FICTIONAL CHARACTER ISN'T UP TO FANDOM'S STANDARDS #i bet other people also get shit like that all the time #for example my friend is a writer and he just happens to be a cisguy and whenever i mentioned it to people #they would instantly start saying that they are sure he writes shit like she breasted boobily down the stairs #or i remember how i got told off for making trahearne lives au because apparently #messing with canon is just as bad as falsifying information in history books #just stop for the love of whatever's devine #this has been boiling in me for so long i cant even express it #sorry for going off in the tags in case you decided to read them #peace out imma go and read a book and touch grass #finally its green and soft again after so many rains and storms so it will be a nice chilling time outside #oh btw proper plural is pierogi without the s. singular is pieróg. you want to add s - say pierógs #ngl that pierogi-pierogis is one of my biggest pet peeves #like i wont be stabbing you over it or throw a tantrum and i will just move on with my day i have better things to do in general than #than throwing fits and also im not omniscient myself #like i dont know all the words in english and my german knowledge is very scarce #so i in no way demand others know about pierogis #just give people some room to breathe for gods sake #ok ok ok i think im overwriting this and i cant edit tags on phone so now fr im gonna go and enjoy outside and watch the squirrels

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end-orfino · 4 months

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i feel like it's such a cruel joke from God that everything that makes me better also makes me feel worse.

#the attitude of 'no one else will do it if not you' along with 'you need to put in more than the bare min. because--#--this bare minimum does not make an effect on people tf is this'#was things i started thinking to motivate myself to draw more than headshots all the time & actually start putting the ideas i had onto--#paper and at least trying to tell my stories in anything more than a meaningless ramble #(i still ramble sometimes but i at least try to think of how to do it now)#and it worked #and im doing actual things now #but now this same logic is hurtful because it pushes me to make more&more&more #just to get my ideas out there #bcs just saying the idea out loud isnt enough. people will not be interested in just listening to that #i need to like make a drawing or something #and theres so many ideas and i cant make something for all of them but IM THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN DO THAT.#im the only one. and i should be the only one because getting someone else to do so is 1. not possible 2. shameful.#like oooohhh can you make this idea i had real because i cant. jesus christ id rather fall into the ground.#please dont internalize this btw. this isnt a good attitude to have. not at all!!#but now im stuck in this hell because its the only way i get to keep going #the only way im capable of doing anything and being productive is by forcing myself to do so. by pulling myself up by strings #and beating myself up into what i want to do #i will not do it if i wont force myself to.#...does this classify as executive dysfunction?#i never thought it did but #now that i phrased it that way #god i wish i had the balls to ask my parents for therapy #BY THE WAY TO CLARIFY #'DOING THINGS'? IN THIS CONTEXT?#MEANS LIKE. MAKING SHITPOSTS.#SOMETIMES MAKING COMICS OR WRITING A ONE SHOT BUT I STILL STRUGGLE WITH THAT TO THIS DAY.#IT WAS MOSTLY LITERALLY DRAWING A DOODLE COMIC INSTEAD OF WRITING SOMETHING IN A DIALOGUE FORM #BECAUSE DIALOGUES DIDNT CHANNEL WHAT I WANTED TO SHOW RIGHT AND SHITPOST COMICS MADE IT MORE INTERESTING TOO.#oh yeah and theres a thing to be said about how so much for this if not all is just so that other people would look at it.

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scoreplings · 1 year

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also this is just one of my childcare onions but i think its actually very irresponsible that learning how to redirect isn’t considered required for people who work with kids like. it’s difficult to do! it’s something you have to practice & learn and it’s something that can prevent injury and trauma so often in kids

#like ive only ever one time had to restrain a student (he started biting and drawing blood it was a safety issue :( )#and its SO terrible for them #there is a reason its a last resort #you’re supposed to restrain any student self harming but tbqh if it’s not causing serious injury restraint is only going to harm them more #and escalate the situation #its TERRIFYING being a little person and having someone who you trust physically prevent you from doing what you feel you need to do to make #yourself safe #because especially in younger kids that’s why they’re acting out! they’re scared or overwhelmed in some way and that’s their outlet #and if you can redirect instead of punish or restrain it helps so so much. and prevents so much distress #likeee if a kid is peeling her skin or threatening another student it is so much better to call them over to have a talk & help you put #snack together or something than it is to frighten them more by escalating things #obvs it doesnt work with like kids like the one who kept biting me earlier this year was impossible to redirect past a certain point #but if you catch it early & know how to do it even students with as extreme behavioral issues as he had can be helped #he lovedd when you’d ask him to help with the classroom and if you did it when you first noticed him getting uncomfortable it could prevent #an incident almost every time #idk it just makes me so pissed off that so many teachers & other people who work with kids think restraint is the first thing to resort to #when things get physical #i had a coworker joke to me that i should start beating the kid who kept biting me #HE WAS FIVE!! he was scared you fucking asshole hes tiny and he isn’t used to life yet and he hasn’t developed empathy!! why do you want to #hurt a baby!!

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saja-star · 4 months

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I've had a hard time articulating to people just how fundamental spinning used to be in people's lives, and how eerie it is that it's vanished so entirely. It occurred to me today that it's a bit like if in the future all food was made by machine, and people forgot what farming and cooking were. Not just that they forgot how to do it; they had never heard of it.

When they use phrases like "spinning yarns" for telling stories or "heckling a performer" without understanding where they come from, I imagine a scene in the future where someone uses the phrase "stir the pot" to mean "cause a disagreement" and I say, did you know a pot used to be a container for heating food, and stirring was a way of combining different components of food together? "Wow, you're full of weird facts! How do you even know that?"

When I say I spin and people say "What, like you do exercise bikes? Is that a kind of dancing? What's drafting? What's a hackle?" it's like if I started talking about my cooking hobby and my friend asked "What's salt? Also, what's cooking?" Well, you see, there are a lot of stages to food preparation, starting with planting crops, and cooking is one of the later stages. Salt is a chemical used in cooking which mostly alters the flavor of the food but can also be used for other things, like drawing out moisture...

"Wow, that sounds so complicated. You must have done a lot of research. You're so good at cooking!" I'm really not. In the past, children started learning about cooking as early as age five ("Isn't that child labor?"), and many people cooked every day their whole lives ("Man, people worked so hard back then."). And that's just an average person, not to mention people called "chefs" who did it professionally. I go to the historic preservation center to use their stove once or twice a week, and I started learning a couple years ago. So what I know is less sophisticated than what some children could do back in the day.

"Can you make me a snickers bar?" No, that would be pretty hard. I just make sandwiches mostly. Sometimes I do scrambled eggs. "Oh, I would've thought a snickers bar would be way more basic than eggs. They seem so simple!"

Haven't you ever wondered where food comes from? I ask them. When you were a kid, did you ever pick apart the different colored bits in your food and wonder what it was made of? "No, I never really thought about it." Did you know rice balls are called that because they're made from part of a plant called rice? "Oh haha, that's so weird. I thought 'rice' was just an adjective for anything that was soft and white."

People always ask me why I took up spinning. Isn't it weird that there are things we take so much for granted that we don't even notice when they're gone? Isn't it strange that something which has been part of humanity all across the planet since the Neanderthals is being forgotten in our generation? Isn't it funny that when knowledge dies, it leaves behind a ghost, just like a person? Don't you want to commune with it?

#spinning #historical reenactment #fiber arts #history

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postmortemnivis · 2 months

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no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simons a loverboy at heart #simon is not ghost

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amalasdraws · 6 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/bigmammallama5/732632789726478336?source=share do you have any tips on how to detect ai and deepfakes?

Good question and I'm gonna be honest, it's not always easy and it will only get harder and harder. I'm just an artist who has spent their personal time to dive into this topic and study images. I'm still learning and there is a lot I don't know. But let me show what I know. This will be long, but I will make a summary at the end! So far, even with ai having become better and better there are still almost always some things wrong with an image, and they all have a very specific look to them. So let me try to show you some and point out some of them.

As we all know, a biggest struggle ai had were hands. And even though here and there we still see messed up hands, I say "had", because the hands is actual a good example on how ai is improving and will only get better. Still, looking at pictures that show more hands is always worth it, because somewhere in the back there will be most likely at least one messed up hand.

Another issue a lot of ai still has is hair though!

It's very obvious still in many ai "drawings" and in those otherwise well rendered portraits. Hair starts to blend with the ears a lot, or with the clothes.

There is also often this very odd look between something too sharp and way too blurry

There is often a very specific texture to the hair. I actually do not know the artistic or specific name for it. I can only describe it as this weird sharp feeling that makes it look oddly pixely, and then you have areas where it's very blurry. And the kind of loops and almost flame like looking hair we see in the last pic out of the three here is also something very common with ai.

As an artist I know we make mistakes too! The way I draw hair is flawed too! But it's not only that it's flawed here, but it's following always the same pattern and falls into the same issues over and over again, no matter who is "creating" the image. Those flame like loops are a common one, next to the odd blends and weird sharp and blurry textures.

But ai is getting better, and we not only have "art" and something that tries to be a drawing/painting, but photos too.

A lot of those "photos" have a very specific texture and look to them! Again, it's not always the mistakes, but the very specific optic too. A lot of the images are oddly smooth, too rendered, with always blurry backgrounds. And when you look closer at the background you will see the mistakes! The crowd behind Jesus is a hot mess once you look closer. Bob Marley's hair has the same issue than I described before. Lincoln is surrounded by people with messed up hands and don't even get me started on the faces behind Caesar.

So a lot of ai images look alright on a first and quick glance, but as more time you spend with them, as more mistakes you will notice. The wehre is Waldo of ai horror.

And those "photos" shared here are still very obvious. Not just the mistakes and messed up details but the very specific aesthetic too.

Those images get better and better and as less details you have, as less mistakes you have!

With photos like this it becomes harder and harder. There are not many details and no hands. Not many mistakes can be made. Also the very obvious plastic looking smoothness isn't so much here anymore. It kinda still is...but differently. And always the blurry background!! Sometimes the hair is still a giveaway. Collars and clothe straps are also often still a giveaway upon close look. As is jewelry. Earrings will be different and necklaces often don't go all the way around, just end, or blend with the hair or clothes.

Often details on jewelry is also blurry and not shown properly. This is a trick with many details. With jewelry, batches, hair, ears, text. So it's often blurred out and not shown properly because ai doesn't know what to really show here.

It's often really just the small details and when we scroll down quickly we will miss them. Like the wedding ring on the middle finger, the pens on top of a closed pocket, the batches that are always blurry, messed up faces that blend with a blurry background.

And sometimes it's so subtle that I could only really tell that right is the ai image in comparison to the real photo on the left. The real photo shows hands clearly and even when things are blurred out it doesn't feel that it's done to hide things. The ai image on the right hides the hands. There is also a very dead look in the eyes :D

And here I could only tell because the text in the back doesn't make sense. Even blurred out we should be able to make out something here

And after seeing a lot of ai images I recognize the kind of blurred out bg in combination with a very smooth and well rendered foreground/characters.

And here the only giveaway is a closer look at the backgrounds as well

To summarize it:

Ai and fake news rely on a fast living world. We are being bombarded with tons of information and messages daily and we scroll past quickly. But the best tool, for now, in detecting ai is taking our time! Those images get better and better but so far there are still always some things off!! Especially in the background!

Hair. Often weirdly smoothed out and oddly sharp at the same time

Hair often blends with the ears or the clothes

Details are blurred out.

Jewelry doesn't match (example earrings). Details on metal often blurred out and never shown. Necklaces blend with hair or the clothes, and don't go around the neck.

Background is always blurred out.

In this blurred mess there are often hidden very messed up faces and/or hands.

A very specific smooth and yet too sharp/too rendered aesthetic combines with an always blurry bg.

Text, especialyl in the background, is not legible and doesn't make sense.

Backgrounds are often (so far) the dead giveaway. Somewhere in the back things become muddled and messed up. This shows also very well in ai decor/architecture. There will be odd lines that don't align or align too well. Curtain poles that end in the furniture, a plant that is behind a lamp suddenly having leaves in front of the lamp. As longer you look as more you will notice.

Conclusion:

Take your time with images! Sit with them! Especially when it's framed as important and political news. Is it ai and propaganda, or did it really happen? Don't fall for the quick buzz and outrage! Some things are obvious right away but with others you have to take your time. And it's time you have! If you are still unsure if a pic is real or not, do some research on top. Image reverse search. Can you find it anywhere else? Are other news outlets sharing it? Does the image/message make sense? For example there is now a deepfake of Bella Hadid voicing support for Israel. Ask yourself, does this make sense? If it feels out of line compared to previous behavior, do some research! Media literacy is not just as being able to recognize a fake or real right away, but being able to do research. To question things! Don't just take every post online for face value. Even when shared by a mutual you trust. They might have been tricked!

There are so many information online and it's great to have access to so information, but it's also difficult to wade through all of it. Media and truth are a weapon and it's being twisted and bend used to manipulate. Always has! But ai and so many people being able to post and share things, it becomes bigger and bigger and more dangerous. So don't just take everything that is handed to you and share it further no questions asked. Media literacy and being able to think for ourselves and do the research is important!! And as research becomes harder and harder, as sources are being messed up with ai and other fake news, it's even more important to sit with the images and study them. See the flaws, the mistakes. Compare it to other news and images.

This got long, and I started to ramble at the end. Sorry But I hope this helped

#text #ai #how to detect ai #danger of ai #ai images #fake news #amalas talks #anon ask #fake images #how to tell ai #long text #long post

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kleefkruid · 1 year

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Every fun post on here that encourages people to have hobbies/be creative always gets an avalanche of "Some people are poor Karen" type reactions and respectfully, you're all super annoying. I've never lived above the poverty line and this is a list of hobbies I have that were cheap or entirely free:

Read books: Go to the library, lend a book from a friend

knitting, crochet, embroidery: Get some needles from the bargan store and ask around, people have leftovers from projects they'll happily give you. Thrift stores also often carry leftover fabric and other supplies. And talk about your hobby loud enough and an old lady will show up and gift you their whole collection, because there are way more old ladies with a closet full of wool than there are grandchildren who want to take up the hobby.

Origami/paper crafts: get some scrap paper and scissors, watch a youtube tutorial

walking: put on shoes open door

pilates/yoga/etc: get a mat or just use your carpet, watch a youtube tutorial

Houseplants: look online for people that swap plant cuttings. There are always people giving out stuff for free to get you started. If you're nice enough you'll probably get extra

gardening: You're gonna need some space for this one of course but you can just play around with seeds and cuttings from your grocery vegetables.

aquarium keeping is a bit of an obscure one but I got most of my stuff second hand for cheap or free and now I have a few thousand euro worth of material and plants.

drawing/art: You get very far just playing with bargan store materials. I did my entire art degree with mostly those.

writing: Rotate a cow in your head for free

cooking: again one you can make very expensive, but there are many budget recipes online for free. Look for African or Asian shops to get good rice and cheap spices.

Join a non-profit: Cities will have creative organisations who let you use woodworking machines or screen presses or laser cutters or 3D printers etc etc etc for a small fee. Some libraries also lend out materials.

candle making: You need some molds (cheap), wick, two old cooking pots for au bain marie melting and a ton of scrap candles, ask people to keep them aside for you.

a herbarium, flower pressing: Leaves are free, wildflowers too, ask if you can take from peoples gardens.

puzzles: thrift stores, your grandma probably

Citizen science: look for projects in your area or get the iNaturalist app

And lastly and most importantly: Share! Share your supllies, share your knowledge. Surround yourself with other creative people and before you know it someone will give you a pot of homemade jam and when you want to paint your kabinet someone will have leftover paint in just the right color and you can give them a homemade candle in return and everyone is having fun and building skills and friendships and not a cent is exchanged. We have always lived like this, it's what humans are build to do.

And all of it sure beats sitting behind a computer going "No stranger, I refuse to let myself have a good time."

Anyway I'm logging off bc I'm making some badges for a friend who cooked for me and then I'm going to fix some holes in everyones clothes.

#hobbies #mental health

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joelscurls · 6 months

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I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers.

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?”

You sniff again. Nod.

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself.

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.”

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath.

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face.

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?”

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him. Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch.

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim.

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull.

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours.

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you.

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox.

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all.

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense.

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him.

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.”

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.”

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward.

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet.

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him.

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head.

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now.

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated.

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush.

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours.

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears.

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?”

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes.

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.”

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.”

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy.

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?”

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from.

Sheila is home.

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing.

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea.

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?”

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.”

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip.

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used.

“You sure?”

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise.

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you.

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length.

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx.

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop.

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him.

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat.

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?”

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in.

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot.

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep.

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile.

Do you hear that? Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you.

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp.

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast.

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar! We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted.

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt.

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle.

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth.

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air.

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?”

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3

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