#that's a formative text for me as an artist

[valsdelulucorner]

I love the way you write for Obey me characters. It fits nicely, that I enjoyed reading all of them. I had to make sure I’m requesting a character you haven’t done yet.

I would love to read Satan headcanons.

Thank you so much anon<3 of course I can do Satan, I haven't done him yet so I'll be happy to write for him

Satan Head cannons<3

Satan is always abit insecure when it comes to Lucifer, always being mistaken for him even though they are vastly different. He always gets mad at someone for comparing him to or calling him Lucifer and for a valid reason, he feels like he is just a cheep copy of him, that he isn't as loved by lucifer because he was born once lucifer fell

Once you came to the Devildom though, he was surprised that you never compared him to lucifer (out loud) or even mistaken him for Lucifer. He grew to appreciate you more when he overheard you correct one of his brothers when they were comparing him to Lucifer, overhearing you point out the differences and saying that they were different people. He never told you he heard you say this but he appreciates you for it, glad that you see him as his own person and not just a clone of Lucifer

Satan has gotten better at controlling his wrath but that doesn't mean it doesn't show, his anger can be explosive when triggered and we see this when he almost badly hurt us that one time. After the pact and when he started to grow closer with you, he discovered that he is alot calmer with you and that your not one of his triggers, but instead one of his methods of calming down

When Satan goes into one of his episodes, his brothers will either sprint up to you and use you as a shield (they know satan wont hurt you), his brothers will drag you down and try and make him calm down, or his will make his way to find you and rant to you. If your resting in his room and he storm in in his demon form, he will rant to you while throwing books around, making sure that none of them hit you and will try not to snap at you.

Satan normally feels really bad after a episode so if your there with him, he will lay with you and hold onto you tightly, mumbling apologies and "I hate feeling this angry", still in his demon form while he holds onto you. He holds you in his tail while he buries his face into your neck or chest, holding onto you while you either play with his hair or read to him. You help him calm down, he cant be more greatful to you whenever your there supporting him

Satan loves taking you on library, cafe, museum and book dates. He will take your hand and gently lead you around a library or museum, leading you around and softly going on about where some ancient text came from, where certain artifacts where founded. His favourite date idea though is a winter Cafe trip before renting some books from the library out, heading back home before cuddling up on the sofa and enjoying your food and books Infront of the fireplace

If you come to the devildom as a writer or a artist, he will make a few requests. As a writer, he would absolutely love to read anything you write and make a few requests about some ideas he's been wanting to write about, extremely happy when you do end up writing for him. He would Tresure it forever and make sure to keep it in a collection that no one is allowed to touch, only for his eyes to see. As a artist, he would give you a little list of attributes and traits and politely ask if you could draw a character from a book for him. wither your a writer or a artist, he would love and treasure your creations

I love the head cannon that Satan uses his tail as a whip, which gives me the idea that he can use his tail in combat. His tail is sharp but he can also close up his scales to make it smooth and harmless, the mode he uses to cuddle and hold you with. When he's threatened or pissed however, he will puff up his scales and harden them, making his tail sharp and dangerous. His tail can get very dirty after occasions like this so it is mandatory for him to clean his tail so he doesn't get a infection.

If you offered to help him clean his tail, he would absolutely refuse to let you touch his tail in the state its in, he doesn't want to accidently hurt you. He does appreciate it though if you sit next to him and just keep him company while he cleans his tail, having you hand him cleaning products while he scrubs in-between his sharp scales. He deeply appreciates you more then you know, even if its just something like sitting next to him while he cleans his tail of dirt and blood

He loves having you lay on his lap while he reads late into the night, playing with your hair as he reads a book, admiring your sleeping face from time to time. His tail gently holds your waist or wraps around your legs while you sleep against his thighs, subconsciously making sure your safe and sound while he continues to read. He loves to rest on your lap aswell, sleeping peacefully against your thighs as your fingers play with his hair. His tail wraps around your ankle and calf while he cuddles into you, a quite purr coming from his chest as he nuzzles into your belly

He calls you his darling, his muse, and his rose.

If he accidentally hurts you during one of his fits, he feels extremely guilty after he calms down. He goes to find you and tries not to grimace when he finds you patching yourself up, sighing softly before going to help you. Non stop apologies slip from his laps as he patches you up properly, his heart sinking as he makes sure you are properly ok. He gets so much more careful with you after this experience, making sure your not in the room when he gets violent

Satan does his research on humans and will randomly drop one of the most traumatizing facts about humans before just going on about his day, thinking he will impress you with these facts. "Hey my darling, did you know that [A random traumatizing fact about humans that will completely ruin your day]" "Satan..... darling...." *Proud of himself thinking he impressed you"

"Im scared I might loose myself and hurt you" "I'll still stand beside you"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two fics in one day, im feeling good! I honestly really struggled with Satan because i don't normally write about him but i liked this! I hope I did Satan alright anon and i hope you enjoyed!

Who should i do next?

#valsdelulucorner #obey me nightbringer #obey me #obey me x mc #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me otome #obey me mc #obey me boys #obey me! #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #satan x mc #satan x reader #satan x you #obey me! nightbringer #obey me! shall we date? #obey me! one master to rule them all #obey me! swd #obey me! fanfic #om! shall we date #omswd #obey me! satan #om! swd #om! satan

[probablyasocialecologist]

Some people, in defense of generative A.I., will claim that A.I. builds from influences the same as human beings do.  This is, to me, the first indication that I’m talking to somebody who either does not understand how A.I. works, how human creativity works, or most likely both.  Something that needs to be clearly understood is that A.I. has no intelligence.  It does not “think”.  It is a predictive text program that simulates human expression by ingesting unfathomable amounts of data and trying to replicate that data.  It does not know and can not know what meaning its outputs have.  Further, it has no desire and no emotion to motivate action or decisions.  It simply runs a program and assembles pixels or words to match what seems most like other correct pixels and words in its vast data set.  It aggregates.  It produces averages. Humans, obviously, do not create like this.  Humans have intentions and purpose to what we do.  These intentions are sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, sometime clear, and sometimes nebulous.  But we always have emotion and thought connected to what we make.  What we create is guided by intent colliding with discovery, and these two states feed each other.  And the influence that we draw from existing work is not an analysis of pixels, but an emotional response to how that work makes us feel.  Even in analytical study of form or anatomy, our brains do not operate like computer programs.  While committing information to memory, we also interpret and seek to understand and this affects how that information is later able to be used.  Because we are each an individual, infinitely complex being, our different physiological, environmental, and cultural variations bring us to infinite different endpoints.  Like it or not, we all see the world slightly differently and our creative expressions reflect this. It has become standard to describe A.I. as a tool.  I argue that this framing is incorrect.  It does not aid in the completion of a task.  It completes the task for you.  A.I. is a service.  You cede control and decisions to an A.I. in the way you might to an independent contractor hired to do a job that you do not want to or are unable to do.  This is important to how using A.I. in a creative workflow will influence your end result.  You are, at best, taking on a collaborator.  And this collaborator happens to be a mindless average aggregate of data. To some, the prospect of collaborating with the sum average of all artists is apparently an attractive prospect.  Maybe you feel you are below average in some areas and the A.I. will therefore raise the quality of those areas.  But every percent that you hand over to the A.I. is a percent less of your unique voice, perspective, and intention.  And for folks who use A.I. generations wholesale, that comes out to a 100% loss of anything personal or unique that they might bring.

#art #ai #artificial intelligence #midjourney

[clotpolesonly]

thinking about Declan and the moth again

it HAUNTS ME that the moth is one of the few times that Declan seems to lose his self-awareness completely. like, yeah, he's the ultimate king of repression, but he's usually very conscious of what he's repressing and the fact that he's repressing it. he knows his issues.

he knows that he forces down his emotions in an unhealthy way so that he can be the adult in the room at far too young an age. he knows he can't form healthy relationships because of a lifetime of danger and insecurity. he knows he dehumanized his mother as a means to cope with their batshit family situation. he knows he's competing with his father's ghost for a place in Ronan's life. he knows he resents Matthew for being the primary factor in his parentification and loss of opportunity in life. he knows he loves his father no matter how much he tries to convince himself to hate him. he knows he feels trapped in the life he's leading, doesn't see a way out, and likely wouldn't take it if he did because it would be at the expense of his brothers.

all of these things, Declan acknowledges openly, either to himself in narration or out loud to others. he may delude himself about how well he's coping with his issues, but he has no illusions about what his issues ARE.

except for the fucking moth.

it's such a perfect, on-the-nose symbol that it almost strains credulity for Declan not to acknowledge it as such, and yet not once does he ever look at the moth and feel the way he did about the black string art exhibit that made him recognize how trapped he felt in his life. "how the moth had beaten against the walls for those first few days, until it had learned it could not escape."

the learned helplessness of it - there's no point fighting to get free, just lie down and accept that this is your life. know what you're allowed to do, and have, and be. know what you're not. a creature of his father's making, confined by his father's hand.

and not even something as eye-catching as a butterfly, no, but a quieter subtler moth with eyes like glittering purple-black marbles that will never get to live a life because Niall made it so.

and the symbolic parallel of the display case and the townhouse. the rigid real world structures that Declan himself requested, because they made him feel more secure than being surrounded by dreams, and that his father provided in a well-meaning but ultimately short-sighted attempt to accommodate him. things that Declan only recognizes much later as the cages that they were.

Declan now regrets demanding his dad make the display case by hand, and when he puts himself through Ronan's bad-feeling security system at the end of the series, the memory it hits him with is inheriting the sterile alexandria townhouse that was exactly what he'd claimed to want.

these are symbols of Declan's complicity, in a manner of speaking, in the whole tragic mess that was his upbringing. at some point, quite early on, Declan's oppression became a joint effort, something that he participated in (because a complete lack of control in the situation would have felt worse). it reminds me of Declan struggling to remember which of them first decided to lie to Matthew about what he was, whether that was his dad's idea or if he'd done that of his own volition, just following pattern.

did dad trap him, or did he build the walls himself? or was it both?

but, for once, none of this is acknowledged by Declan in the text. this artistically-minded chronic overthinker carries the moth around with him - one of the two dreams he will never sell, alongside the gift from Ronan - and he stays so uncritically sentimental about it that he releases it on his wedding day with happy/nostalgic tears in his eyes, and it just boggles my mind.

this is the man who looked at a bunch of string and had the immediate revelation that he was utterly miserable and trapped in a spiderweb of a life precariously balanced on a knife's edge where one wrong move could get him and everyone he loved killed, but he looks at a direct, uncomplicated, one-to-one representation of himself and somehow does not recognize that it is not something to think of fondly. that, yes, it may be a symbol of his father's love for him, but it's not good.

#this goes hand in hand with Niall's characterization 180 in this book #uncritical thought is REQUIRED in order to maintain the rose-tinted view of him as a good father #Declan cannot look at that damn moth with his usual level of discernment and empathy or the whole arc falls apart #Declan Lynch #Niall Lynch #TRC #TDT #tags by me

[greenerteacups]

Hi! I am an ardent fan of your writing, and I hope to be as sorted and planned as you some day in my own writing journey.

My question is: you have a keen eye when it comes to planning character personality, dynamics, and such. I've also been wading through your ask replies, and your insights into how you write people and how you make them play off of each other is so wonderful to read. If it's not too personal a q, how did you learn how to write like this? Did you go to school for writing, does it come from years of observing people, do you have reading list recs for "how to write real people and real interactions"?

Thanks! This is a really flattering question. I'll try to answer it honestly, because I wish someone had been brutally honest about this with me when I was a young writer.

I didn't go to school for writing. I started doing it when I was about nine years old. It sucked very badly. I kept writing throughout high school, and it still mostly sucked, but some of it was occasionally interesting. ("Interesting" here does not mean "good," by the way.) I took a break in college, and then came back. I've been writing ever since. Sometimes, I feel good about it. A lot of the time, I don't!

I hate giving this advice, because I remember how it feels to get it, and it's the most uninspiring, boring-ass, dog shit advice you can get, but it's also the only advice that is 100% unequivocally true: you have to write, and specifically, you have to write things that suck.

I do not mean that you should make things that suck on purpose. I mean that you have to sit down and try your absolute hardest to make something good. You have to put in the hours, the elbow grease, the blood, sweat, and tears, and then you have to read it over and accept that it just totally sucks. There is no way around this, and you should be wary of people who tell you there is. There is no trick, no rule, no book you can buy or article you can read, that will make your writing not suck. The best someone else can do is tell you what good writing looks like, and chances are, you knew that anyway — after all, you love to read. You wouldn't be trying to do this if you didn't. And anyone who says they can teach you to write so good it doesn't suck at first is either lying to you, or they have forgotten how they learned to write in the first place.

So the trick is to sit there in the miserable doldrums of Suck, write a ton, and learn to like it. Because this is the phase of your path as an artist when you find what it is you love about writing, and it cannot be the chance to make "good writing." This will be the thing that bears you through and compels you to keep going when your writing is shit, i.e., the very thing that makes you a writer in the first place. So find that, and you've got a good start.

Some people know this, but assume that perseverance as a writer is about trying to get to the point where you don't suck anymore. This is not true, and it is an actively dangerous lie to tell young writers. You are not aiming to feel like your writing doesn't suck. You are aiming to write. You are aiming to have written. Everything else is dust and rust. And of course, you'll find things you like about your pieces, you'll find things you're proud of, you'll learn to love the things you've made. But that little itch of self-criticism, in the back of your brain — the one that cringes when you read a clunky line, or thinks of a better character beat right after it's far too late to change — that's never going away. That's the Writer part of you. Read Kafka, read Dickens, read Tolstoy, you will find diary entries where they lament how absolutely fucking atrocious their writing was, and how angry they are that they can't do better. A good writer hates their sentences because they can always imagine better ones. And the ability to imagine a better sentence is what's going to make you pick up the pen again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.

Which is what I mean, and probably what all those other annoying, preachy advice-givers mean, when we say: a good writer is just someone who writes every day. It's that easy, and that hard.

#by the way a lot of this draws on ideas inspired by 'letters to a young poet' by rainer maria rilke if you're interested #that's a formative text for me as an artist #it won't teach you how to write but it will teach you how to think perhaps #and once you know how to think. well. life is just pretty good #and i can't say the writing gets easier but when life is pretty good i find myself enjoying it a lot more #this word vomit was prompted by the question 'how do you write real people and real interactions' #because that's like — i'm not trying to be pedantic but— #that's kind of just 'how do you write literature'? #because that's all literature is. what are human beings? how do you write a person? how do they interact with each other? #like shoutout to the void if you know for sure how to write real interactions then please for the love of god tell the rest of us #because i think most of all authors in history have just been giving it our best stab #'this is how the world looks for me. is it how the world looks for you?' #so my advice on that score is: try to see how the world looks for you #and then try to share it with me #don't worry about whether it looks the same for me. it won't

[can-of-slorgs]

are you the one with the nt series where sloth is all buff and hanging out with the user's twinky oc? there was something also about sloth turning into a snowbunny? was that you or another guy?

do you know what i'm talking about if it isn't you... because if not this is embarrassing...

Anon I have no idea what you're talking about.

I haven't publish (nor read for that matter) anything NT related in maybe a decade.

Now, that said... The what comic about dr sloth's twink??

#vin answers #anon im sorry i have no idea what youre reffering to JHASDKFASD #i only got my retail neo account back after years of not being able to enter it like 2 weeks ago and just restarted my neo fix like a month #listen; i did not want to be known as the “babygirl sloth” artist in the neotag by any means #at least not before being an actual artist that is #not this early HJFFJSK #but the existence of whatever anon described only fills me with dread #and probably makes me rethink of whatever i did draw and how it can be taken completely serious by some....... individuals #that or it gains me death threats for making a space dictator into an egirl in some shape or form #i have to come clean..... i haven't read the dr sloth plot lmao #i started it and never finished i have no idea what he even does in neopets #an now im too afraid to actually read it HJDFHJSD #anyways thanks you for the ask anon i..... i do not know what to do with this information #but i do not what to claim ownership of said cursed arts #but it did give me the idea to make a random image of my grundo lad making a thumbs up next to dr sloth #and just having an upper text “DR SLOTH” and bottom text “AND THE TWINK” #its just hilarious to think about

[derpoprime]

narrators in games™. im setting out to give them. a Form :) lovingly crafted to maybe suit their voice like a little bit. in order: Dude, S.A.A.A.M, Dick/Richard, and Amar.

bonues:

(they're my favorites...... ..)(s.a.a.a.m is a hologram and can therefore change size at will but. theoretically if he were Not he'd be Hoog)

#there is no game's man isnt here because his form IS the game is wjat woukd make most sense to me sorry :( #as for the stanley parables. he is just. a sentient yellow text bubble to me. he Is Here in the narrator void dw #both them r i think #I KNOW narrators in games r usually supposed to b the games creator idc they r Characters to me. my heart #ive been SO SO SO EXCITED TO SHOW THE TUMBLR MY BOYS THIS LIST IS NOT DONE!!!!! IM STILL LOOKING FOR GAME NARRATORS TO DO #I HAVE A LIST & MANUAL SAMUEL IS NEXT! #dude stop #the narrator is a dick #s.a.a.a.m #do not buy this game #video games #humanization #?? #character design #art #artists on tumblr #narrators #fanart

[weaselishmcdiesel]

weasel i am about to give you the biggest compliment i’ve ever given anyone:

ok so before i had the spoonmoment119 account, i would look at all your posts and just sit. in awe. of like how good you could draw. and i thought that when i got better at art, i wanted to draw just like you. you were my favorite artist. by a long shot.

and when i did make the spoonmoment119 account and started posting a bit of art, i had a few milestones in mind, obviously the simple ones like the 50 followers, 100 followers, 1k followers, but by far the biggest in my mind, was how long it would take for weasel to even so much as like one of my posts.

and as you know, that goal was achieved on my second post. the mumbo body pillow. never in a million years would i have thought of you even just looking at my art. but you did :]

and now to just regularly interact with you and other insanely good artists on a daily basis, is insane,, and to have people looking up to me,, even more insane.

and i would just like to stop by for a bit and thank you for how much you’ve done for me, and how much you’ve helped :]

and you don’t have to reply btw,, i just wanted you to know that :3 okokok goobye <3

SPOON FUCK. I DIDNT SEE THIS BEFORE I FELL ASLEEP FUCKFUCKFUCK

😫😫😫😫😫😫SPOOOOOOOOOON😭😭😭😭

I’m. Forever touched like I have no idea what to say like I’m honored you would even go out of your way to write all this I’m,,, I’m just a little guy!!!! I’m just!!! I just draw my little guys!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭thank you so much! Your favorite artist,,, OTL IT MAKES ME WANT TO MAKE YOU PROUD WAAAAAA THANKYOUUUU

I have, a lot of aspirations like I eventually want to create a cartoon, or potentially work on a video game or like a ton of other stuff whatever my life leads me to but all of them stem from my desire to inspire people, since it’s just this amazing feeling, the most rewarding fulfilling thing I think I can do as an artist. So like. Yeah XD I’m. really really thrilled to hear you say all this, like I actually did something with my art besides… draw boys ahdhagdhs like you’ve touched so many people with your art and I’m so happy I could at least encourage you to start posting it :) we’re all happier when we see a spoon post floating around <3

I’m very happy you’ve gotten the reach that you have :) from all that we’ve interacted you seem incredibly kind and deserving of all the attention you’ve gotten 😌not even just for your kindness but your art seriously, is so pleasing to look at both your creatures and more finished work, it’s all so lovely and your humor is so XD perfect 👌like that weird sort of deadpan sometimes is👌👌👌👌 BUT AHDHAHD WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY IS ITS AWESOME TO INTERACT WITH YOU TOO AND YOURE SUCH A GREAT PERSON THAT IM JUST AS EXCITED TO BE MUTUALS WITH YOU TOO!!

You’re a dear<3 you’re the best <3 goodbye<3333

#I have a friend I text every time a biiig/awesome artist follows me which started happening more after I posted hc #and each time I’m like Holy Shit Holy Shit Look Oh My God #and each time she’s like you’re literally a big artist why are you freaking out #so. SOMETIMES I forget I have the reach I do and your reminder in this form is really. 🥺🥺🥺 man…. yknow…. #very excited to see you continue posting :) and all your art :) even if it’s eventually no longer mcyt related<3 #hshnhnngngn I feel like a million thank yous isn’t enough. so take 2 million #and a million sorties for probably falling asleep right before you sent this OTLLL SPOOOOOOOON💕💕💕💕💕💕🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄🥄 #sorries** #asks! #weasel speaks #my first reaction to compliments is like. ‘oh I’m not that good!!’ but that’s like. inconsiderate to the effort you put in to compliment #so like. NO. THANK YOU. Y O U R E THE AMAZING ONE!!!!! <333333

[septembersghost]

what addictive stardust does baz put in his movies

#i've been racking my brain trying to remember the last time i was this captivated by a (new ie: recent) movie at all #ttb doesn't quite count since the stage version was already well-known to me so loving it was a given #and i...can't think of one (a non-franchise one and even then we're talking like. rots in 2005...) #don't get me wrong i love and enjoy movies i just don't tend to obsess over them anymore #i can come up with plenty that i DO love from recent years! but they didn't *change my brain chemistry* #i can't strongly come up with one that did that specifically since moulin rouge and that was 21 years ago 😭😭😭 or maybe chicago? rent! #(note: the maximalist musical theme is in fact key to my wiring) #and like despite some fondness for the movies phantom and sweeney did not do it since the shows are much more beloved and important to me #anyway uh. baz bestie i need to ask you what you put in your celluloid for science #there is something wrong with me lmao #i think it's the combo of not only the film but the further exploration of elvis himself and so much music and other work directly from him #so it's the double hyperfixation hit of a film to be enrapt by AND an artist to attach to which both are like #nostalgic/formative feeling experiences #idk i'm overcome with emotions #jess.mess #sorry for throwing likely tbd text posts into the void here on the disaster zone tonight #chelsea i love saying i'm going to delete posts and then keeping them up because of your replies <3

[wizardmarriage]

thinkin about senri kita illustrations

#megarez text #yayayay #some really nice sense of substance to stuff like heavy fabrics or broad form #like. i was using volke on heroes recently and his portraits are lovely #it kind of surprised me despite being aware of the character and the artist. there was still yet such an almost novel appeal #to the personality of his expression like. in a very classic and mundane sort of way. it's just kinda rare in that sort of setting. #the demands of the work require a sort of standard sense but within it she consistently still produces such subtly gorgeous stuff #it's really so remarkable!!!! every time i re-realize it i'm surprised all over again

[rosesradio]

i feel like people should support fic writers as much as fan artists. their content may take longer to consume, but the phrase “a picture is worth a thousand words” goes both ways ♡

#not meaning to demean any one or any art form. i love both immensely. but yes please reblog fics #it doesn’t have to be a wall of text tumblr does the expand thing #not even talking about my own fics i mean fics in general. it’s difficult for most authors to get recognition in fandoms like gifmakers— #—and artists do. and it’s sad to me. feeling a little…insignificant :( but that’s just me. it’s okay #fanfic #fandom #rose.txt

[avaantares]

Fanfiction Authors: HEADS UP

(Non-authors, please RB to signal boost to your author friends!)

An astute reader informed me this morning that one of my fics (Children of the Future Age) had been pirated and was being sold as a novel on Amazon:

(And they weren't even creative with their cover design. If you're going to pirate something that I spent a full year of my life writing, at least give me a pretty screenshot to brag about later. Seriously.)

I promptly filed a DMCA complaint to have it removed, but I checked out the company that put it up -- Plush Books -- and it looks like A LOT of their books are pirated fic. They are by no means the only ones doing this, either -- the fact that """publishers""" can download stories from AO3 in ebook format and then reupload them to Amazon in just a few clicks makes fic piracy a common problem. There are a whole host of reasons why letting this continue is bad -- including actual legal risk to fanfiction archives -- but basically:

IF YOU ARE A FANFIC AUTHOR WITH LONG AND/OR POPULAR WORKS, PLEASE CHECK AMAZON TO SEE IF YOUR STORIES HAVE BEEN PIRATED.

You can search for your fics by title, or by text from the description (which is often just copied wholesale from AO3 as well). If you find that someone has stolen your work and is selling it as their own, you can lodge a DMCA complaint (Amazon.com/USA site; other countries have different systems). If you haven't done this before, it's easy! Here's a tutorial:

HOW TO FILE A COPYRIGHT COMPLAINT FOR STOLEN WORK ON AMAZON.COM:

First, go to this form. You'll need to be signed into your Amazon account.

Select the radio buttons/dropdown options (shown below) to indicate that you are the legal Rights Owner, you have a copyright concern, and it is about a pirated product.

Enter the name of your story in the Name of Brand field.

In the Link to the Copyrighted Work box, enter a link to the story on AO3 or whatever site your work is posted on.

In the Additional Information box, explain that you are the author of the work and it is being sold without your permission. That's all you really need. If you want, you can include additional information that might be helpful in establishing the validity of your claim, but you don't have to go into great detail. You can simply write something like this:

I am the author of this work, which is being sold by [publisher] without my permission. I originally published this story in [date/year] on [name of site], and have provided a link to the original above. On request, I can provide documentation proving that I am the owner of the account that originally posted this story.

In the ASIN/ISBN-10 field, copy and paste the ID number from the pirated copy's URL. You'll find this ten-digit number in the Amazon URL after the word "product," as in the screenshot below. (If the URL extends beyond this number, you can ignore everything from the question mark on.) Once this number has been added, Amazon will pull the product information automatically and add it to the complaint form, so you can check the listing title and make sure it's correct.

Finally, add your contact information to the relevant fields, check the "I have read and accept the statements" box, and then click Submit. You should receive an email confirmation that Amazon has received the form.

Please share this information with your writer friends, keep an eye out for/report pirated works, and help us keep fanfiction free and legally protected!

NOTE: All of the above also applies to Amazon products featuring stolen artwork, etc., so fan artists should check too!

#fanfiction #ao3 #piracy #dmca #pirated fanfic #please signal boost #i'm mad but also laughing that my dmc fanfic is now a 'number one best selling novel' lol #i'm also a traditionally-published author #so this is both hilarious and deeply insulting to me

[joycrispy]

One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #Crowley #Aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta #unfortunately I do not have trains of thought #only long meandering strolls of thought #sorry about it #anyway tl;dr Crowley is a nerd #also I have a strange emotional attachment to the idea of 1500's Crowley... #...facedown in a pile of Mona Lisa sketches; drunkenly info-dumping about Aziraphale #and Da Vinci is just like. 'Ahhhh mio amico Antonio. You fucking simp.'

[txttletale]

NOT asking this as a gotcha, I'm 100% sincere, can you point to pieces of AI art that you feel are interesting uses of the medium? Because I'm not philosophically opposed to it, but at the same time I've never seen anything that wasn't naked bandwagon shilling by the same people who pushed NFTs

sure! i think a classic of the medium is secret horses

(i sadly don't know who made it, but i've seen it around and fallen in love). this is everything AI art should be, imo, taking advantage of the liminal dreamlike quality of the medium and using titling and framing to say something about the piece that wouldn't exist if it was presented on its own. secret horses...

my favourite band, everything everything, released an album last year that made use of AI generation, both for the album's art and for small portions of the lyrics (interestingly, they've refused to say which lyrics are AI written and which are human written, which adds another layer of intrigue to me -- the only lyric that they've confirmed is AI generated is the title of 'software greatman', which forms the haunting, powerful chorus of the song that gets deconstructed into electronic incoherence. other highlights include the album art, part burning skyscape, part incomprehensible machine. what is the machine? is it a camera? a monitor? a train? does it matter?

and finally from this album cycle i adore the hallucinogenic exuberance of their video for i want a love like this:

in terms of dedicated artists working primarily within the AI medium, i'm a huge fan of @reachartwork, a really innovative artist who keeps blowing me away with evocative and interesting pieces and pioneer in ethical and cooperative AI art techniques. i'm an especially big fan of their grotesque and uncomfortable 'tooth machine' series:

as well as their desolate, bleak, alien landscapes:

(hole in the sky / river lethe )

and their project, the @infiniteartmachine, a model that produces art based upon algorithmically generated prompots -- effectively a long-term art piece.

finally, i'm a very very big fan of @roborosewater-masters, a bot that makes AI-created magic the gathering cards. this might not parse as 'art' to some people, or be interesting to analyze as such, but to me, someone obsessed with games and game studies, i think that the mix of synctactically correct magic the gathering rules text and abrupt non sequitur makes for really striking and funny pieces that prompt me to think about what the limits of games and gaming are

these are just the artists and pieces i can name off the top of my head, but i hope that they're representative of what generative art has to offer when it's not being done by grifters chasing the lowest common denominator.

#ask #yiffmaster

[pascalpvnk]

take it from me

pairing: latino!joel miller x f!afab!reader

summary: joel is a simple man who simply finds pleasure in pleasing you.

warnings: moodboard used for aesthetic purposes - does not represent the reader description, 18+ MDNI, no timeline, no specified ages, no mention of sarah or ellie, LATINO JOEL (most translations within the text except for some reused pet names/common phrases). This is porn with minimal plot (but unrelated plot I canon—his favorite artist is Linda Ronstadt and I stand by it.), Joel maneuvers reader, manhandling essentially, no other descriptions of reader other than nipple piercings, body worship(?), Joel’s filthy fucking mouth, mention of thigh riding, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of intense emotions, aftercare.

word count: 3.3k

HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS

a/n: fun fact, I’m a virgin, so if it seems far fetched it’s probably because it is. anyways, a special shoutout to ramon nomar for being the muse for this piece, another to @mrsswilliams for beta-ing and fueling my horny antics, thank you to my spanish teachers for guiding me to this moment (probably not your intention but I digress), and to you for taking the time to be here and hopefully enjoying! happy reading xx (banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics)

Addicting is the only word Joel Miller can muster up to describe you as his mind clouds with lust each night he’s alone, bucking into his own fist and spilling his sins after he’d met you. Of course you’re beautiful and charming above all things, but he can’t help the way his cock stirs after simply a phone call from you describing your day. How you miss him and want to meet up again soon.

Joel isn’t the brightest man, which he is very self aware of. But what he craves to learn about you, what your favorite flower is, favorite ice cream, your desires, outranks any level of intelligence a man could hold. He wants to please you, not for a superficial reason to use against you down the line. He enjoys your smile and the way your eyes crinkle, your dimple making an appearance on occasion, and it makes him feel good. The little things shine a light in his chest, ever the people pleaser.

However, he finds a red, hot desire to rouse you, make you squirm under his tender touch. To watch every fiber of control and tension dissipate from your being.

But he’s cautious.

He’s treading on thin ice within himself. He wants to give and give and give, but he’d never forgive himself if he overwhelmed and alarmed you. Your wit keeps him on his toes, tempting and trying his willpower to take things at a palatable pace.

But he’s just a man at his simplest form, a glutton for pleasure wanting to carve himself a home within you and give everything he has to please you. 

You found yourself perched upon his lap, a forgotten movie droning in the background as hands and lips explore new territory. Joel firmly guided your hips, firstly against his own, then he aided you across his denim clad thigh after you wriggled your pants to the floor. 

Choruses of Spanish praises, filth, ‘mamita, use me’, and phrases alike rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he found pleasure within your own. Consuming every moan, gasp, and ‘don’t stop’ you were so eager to give.

He struggled to deny your beautiful pleas to get him off as he had for you. You knew he wanted you to, there was no doubt in your mind considering the prominent bulge straining and begging you to. He reassured you, or rather made excuses for himself to ease the guilt he felt at your subtle disappointment.

I’m not coming in my jeans in front of the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

You said you had work in the morning, anyhow. We outta get’cha home, preciosa.

Joel kissed you softly as he pulled up your pants, grabbed his keys, opened his truck door for you, waited at red lights, and finally as he dropped you off at your apartment building, sealing the night with melted wax, branding himself on your heart until you meet next.

Made it home okay, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.

And he does.

His head is already spinning at the thought of going out with you again. He’s showered, trimmed, even ironed his flannel before making sure it’s buttoned and tucked properly. Well rested is not one of the qualities he’s adorning—no thanks to you running his imagination rampant—but the adrenaline he feels, and the coffee he drank at noon, make up for his lack of preparedness.

At the end of the day, those things don’t even matter. Joel Miller makes it as far as his front door when you ring, bringing you inside with the intention of grabbing his own keys. His hands find you instead, your face in a gentle caress as he compliments your attire, your appearance as a whole, and your waist as he kisses you with increasing fervor. You don’t stop him, and he doesn’t stop himself.

“Ay dios. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day,” he mumbles against your neck, walking you backwards to his bedroom. His shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, suffocating him until you pop each button open one by one. You leave him in his black undershirt, half untucked in his dark washed jeans.

The back of your knees find his mattress before you even realize, forcing you to sit parallel with his waist. He takes his time, always calculated with his hands on every sweet spot he can reach. Joel cups your jaw, admiring your blown out pupils and the raw lust overtaking your features.

“Wanna take good care of ya, now,” he soothes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, you know I’ll stop for ya, promise.”

It’s half of a promise to you, half of him asking you to promise to tell him if it becomes too much. You nod, reaching for him once again.

“No, chiquita,” he holds your hand to his chest. “¿Me prometes? You promise me?”

“I promise,” you say clearly and wholeheartedly. “On my life.”

With your renewed consent, he folds himself over to kiss you deeply. His tongue dances with yours, similarly to a few nights prior but with increased desperation. Fingertips graze up your sides, nerves twitching under his subtle touch, only unlatching your lips to lift your top over your head. His eyes fixate on the pebbled flesh and metal protruding your bra, making quick work of the clasp before removing it.

“I knew you had something hiding underneath this,” he muses, toying with the fabric of your bra between his first two fingers. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, hm?”

Joel skims his thumbs on the underside of both of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your collarbone. He suckles your delicate skin, committing the taste of your sweet musk and desire to his memory. He softly licks over one of your nipples, taking in how your head tips back with a sigh. He brings it into his mouth, nipping and assuaging the pierced bud until you manage to free his shirt out of his waistline.

“Paciencia, amor. Patience, sweetheart, please,” he pacifies as he guides your hand out of reach from his belt. “Just wanna savor you. Can I?”

You nod and opt to tangle your fingers in his curls. Approval seeps through his smirk as he continues his ministrations for as long as he pleases, feeling accomplished each time your hips chase his.

Joel stands up straight, running his calloused hands over one of your clothed legs, meticulously pulling each shoe and sock off and tossing them to the side to find later. 

“Do I need a condom, baby?” He mutters against your knee, toying with the hemline of your pants.

You tell him no and quickly explain you’re clean and protected. Something in him visibly switches, desire becoming carnal. He clings tight to his sense of control, desperately willing himself to give himself to you, not give into himself.

Joel drags both layers of bottoms down your legs, watching you challenge him by keeping them clamped together. He exhales heavily through his nose, your limbs relaxing slightly, but just enough for him to retake control.

“Christ, looks like I was wrong again,” he sighs, smoothing his flattened palms over your open thighs. You can get prettier. “Oh she’s pretty, mamita. All this for me?”

A gasp falls between your lips as you’re tugged closer to the edge of the mattress. Your head spins, the only thought crossing it is Joel. His hands. His words. His filthy mouth and how it’s mere centimeters from where you want him to be. Need him to be.

“Joel,” you whine, feeling the scratch of his blunt facial hair on your inner thighs. His lips tease the sensitive skin around your pussy.

“What?” He coos, fingernails biting your flesh. “Dime, baby. Tell me what you want.”

It feels pathetic, you’re completely at his mercy, stripped down on his bed while he remains fully clothed over you. He has you in the palm of his hand, putty waiting to be molded and shaped however he pleases. Bliss has already warped your features, the anticipation of what’s to come already numbing your brain.

“I want you,” you cry simply.

“You have me, don’t ya? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

Frustration bubbles in your belly. You’re truly not annoyed, but the tension might snap you in half before he gets the chance to.

“Want you to touch me,” you plead. “Want you to make me come, please.”

Joel hums with content, thumbs pulling your cunt open from the outer lips. A slick, sticky mess you are, hardly touched and begging to come. Arousal seeps from you, finding its way to your tight hole. You watch Joel wet his lips, the self restraint slowly dwindling from his gaze. 

“Show me,” he huffs. “Be good and fuck your hand f’me. Wanna see how you like it.”

The sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against itself is enough for your hand to fly below your hips. Relief floods your nervous system the moment you circle your clit, hips lifting and chasing the friction. Sighs leave your parted lips, eyelids falling shut with pleasure.

“Ah ah,” he corrects. “Eyes on me, beba. Sigue jugando con esa flor bonita. Mírame.” Keep playing with that pretty flower. Look at me.

You comply with his request, half lidded but maintaining eye contact nonetheless. Your fingers toy with your cunt lazily, eyes settling between his burning gaze and his taut boxers. His length strains beneath the thin fabric and his hand twitches at his side.

“I love watching you, mami,” Joel purrs. “Wish y’could see how perfect you look right now…perfectly wrecked just for me.”

His words egg you on, pace quickening on your throbbing clit. Moans spill from you as you watch Joel squeeze at his seemingly uncomfortable erection for his own relief. His other palm keeps your legs spread for him, kneading desperately at your thighs as you work yourself towards the edge.

“¿Quieres que te ayude, mamita?” Do you want me to help you?

Joel settles on his knees, both palms splayed against your skin to keep you pinned down. He licks a broad stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking harshly on your labia before diving into your weeping cunt, all while audibly sighing with delight at your taste. Your hand instinctively rushes to grip his curls.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he grumbles while putting your hand back where he says it belongs. “Keep playing with yourself. Make this pretty pussy cry all over my face, cosa dulce.” Sweet thing. 

Your digits pulse against the nerve bundle, shocked by the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you. It’s absolutely obscene. He slurps up everything you have to give, edging you until your legs clamp over his ears. Joel sings into your cunt, a delicious melody that sends you into a frenzy. Your walls flutter around him as he guides you through your orgasm, nose nudging your hand out of the way to make more room for himself.

Your gaze drops from the ceiling to his blissful face, thick eyelashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he savors you. It all begins to feel like too much as you grip onto his shirt. You pull the cloth towards you and he gets the hint, dragging his mouth away from your pussy and removing his top.

“So desperate to come, mamita, already finished with me?” He cants, smoothing a thumb over your kneecap.

“No- just need a breath,” you pant. You take in his features, broad shoulders with a strong chest, thick arms. His hair alone has you running laps, the sparseness of it littered on his torso and below his belly button, his curls tousled already from your hands, and his beard—fuck his beard—is absolutely soaked with your arousal. He makes no attempt to wipe it clean before kissing you. The taste of your cunt dances on your tongue as he licks into your mouth.

“Joel,” you sigh, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck. “I wanna suck your cock, please.”

“You wanna suck it?” He smirks, slipping his hand beneath his boxers before shoving them off of his thighs. His fingers slip through your folds briefly before he deposits your cum onto the tip of his dick. Mischief plays on his expression as he opens your legs once more.

Joel slowly stuffs his cock into you, not your mouth but your pussy. A gasp escapes you, morphing itself into a moan. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in deeper.

“Thought you wanted to suck it,” he grunts with a devilish grin, grinding his hips down into yours.

“Hmm, I’ll suck it later,” you draw out with a smile.

He leans down to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin before pulling off. 

“God, mamita,” he exhales. “Love fucking this pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

His hips drive into yours at a devastating pace, only using a portion of his length to massage your pussy. You quickly adjust to him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. You cry his name while simultaneously having all of the oxygen punched out of your lungs. Joel swallows your wails whole, moaning against your lips in return.

Your legs tense around his body, face twisting up with pleasure under the weight of his. Lips drag against your skin, anywhere he can reach. The room spins around you, eyes rolling back into your head as his hand snakes down to play with your clit. You desperately claw at Joel, gripping his curls in one hand and bruising his back with the other. 

“Dámelo. Give it to me like I want, sugar,” Joel coaxes. 

The bundles of twine prickling your flesh and holding you together in one piece snap, your body completely shattering into a million fragments underneath him. He stays buried inside you as you pulse around his cock, humming into your neck and soothing his hands over your burning skin. 

Joel gently settles onto his side near you, cupping your jaw and kissing you feverishly. You shift your body to face away from him, pushing back against his soaked erection. His eyebrows furrow, grunts of detest coming from him.

“No, mami, I want to look at you while I fuck you. Ven aquí, come here,” he corrects, grasping your arm to guide you to press up chest to chest with him. A brief hiss escapes him as the cool jewelry brushes up against his nipples.

“These’ll be the death of me,” he sighs, latching his mouth to yours once more as he maneuvers you the way he wants. 

His cock slips easily back into your wet heat, arms trapping your upper half against his as his legs anchor to the bed to buck into you. He grips onto your ass for leverage and you find yourself holding onto it with your own palm. It’s slower, intimate, reeling you in to take more, to take it all.

He draws another orgasm from you. Your heart thrums against his hardened chest, his pounding against the confines of his ribcage. He collapses on his back with a breathy groan, sweat perspiring on his forehead. You push back his sticky curls as he catches his breath this time.

“You still wanna suck it?” He chuckles cheekily, offering but not forcing. 

He’s surprised as you eagerly crawl down his body, curling over his thigh while taking his cock in your fist. Your back is to him once more, but beggars can’t be choosers, especially while he’s stuffed in your mouth so perfectly. His fingers drag along your spine, palm splaying flat to soothe the sensation quickly after. His hand stills and stomach flexes as you take as much of him as you can, pumping your tight fist over the remainder of his length.

“Fuck me,” he shutters mindlessly, “feels so good, amor. Treating me so good.”

The praises fuel you, moaning around his tip as he continues to trace shapeless trails onto your back. Your mind feels cloudy, not thunderstorms and impending doom cloudy, but rather a sunny, breezy, nothing could ever go wrong kind of cloudy. You feel taken care of for once, free to slip into a warm, blissful state with Joel. He feels safe.

“Come back, preciosa,” he grins as you make your way back up his body. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply once more, running his hands gently all over your skin as you settle on top of him.

“Missed ya,” he chuckles, kissing your swollen pout a few more times before wetting his fingertips with his spit. He reaches down, circling your clit as his cock twitches against your seam. Your head falls beside his, feeling too heavy to hold up on your own.

Joel protrudes your cunt once more, nestling into you carefully at first. You writhe over him at the push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls, hips snapping down against his with subtle slaps of skin rejoicing. He picks up his pace beneath you, overwhelming your senses a bit too quickly.

You work your core to sit up, fully sheathed with his length as you grind against him. He grips onto your hips, watching you use him for your own pleasure. 

“Tan bonita, amor,” he hums smugly, his fingertips dancing along your bare thigh, his other hand tucked behind his head to prop himself up. “So pretty, mami, fuck.”

He tweaks his fingers against your nipples, pinching the pebbled flesh carefully as you ride his lap. Tufts of his neat pubic hair scratch at your clit, the friction of everything causing you to soak his lap further. You’re being pushed to your limits, throat dry and voice hoarse. Joel wishes to have put water on his bedside table, he would’ve had he’d known you’d end up here so quickly. 

“Doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He checks in, toying with your fingers that have found a home on his chest. You silently nod, eyelids low and face contoured with bliss.

“Think you can give me one more, bebita? Come on my cock one more time and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Your voice hardly sounds like your own, but you mean it when you tell him yes, please. He feels it when you clamp down on his length, his thighs tensing so tight they almost cramp. His legs hinge at the knee, body pivoting you forward into his chest. Joel grabs fistfuls of your ass as he fucks up into you, all of the air leaving your lungs.

His grunts and groans become less calculated and intentional, thrusts becoming sloppier and instinctual. You squeeze him tight, toes curling as you already tumble towards your impending high.

“Mierda,” he hisses, strong arms pressing your torso firmly to his. His lips consume your every breath, whine and borderline scream.

“Take it, use me, amor. Dámelo, cariño, and I’ll give you my cum. Take it from me,” he grunts sharply, pressing into you impossibly deeper and faster. Your skin bursts into flames, embers showering your body as he pulls that final high from you. You shutter above him, dead weight against his body as he uses you to finish himself off. He evacuates your warmth and pumps out his load between your sticky, worn out figures with a drawn out groan. 

Joel makes the first move to stand up, cock softening and hanging between his legs. He starts to step towards his en suite bathroom to find a towel, but you reach for him.

“I’m just gettin’ somethin’ to clean you up, honey,” he smiles before seeing a sadness in your eyes, longing for him to come back. Tears prickle your eyes and Joel quickly makes his way back to the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay, baby, cálmate,” he hushes carefully, holding you close to him. “We’ll getcha cleaned up in a little bit, I’ll make you whatever you fancy for supper and relax with you, sound good?”

A nod suffices his question, knowing you trust him enough to stay rather than run off eases him as he grounds you back to reality with his warm embrace.

to stay up to date on when I post fics, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications! i hope you enjoyed xx

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #my writing #fic: take it from me

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #lauryn hill #fugees #damon albarn #blur #90s music #tournament

[pyromaniac-cyndaquil]

It's been a lot of work over a lot of time but I think I can finally share this...

PMD:EoS, but with all of the starters!

...Including Grookey, finally!!!!! 🥳

Introducing PMD: Expanded Sky!

This is a public mod available to download now! It adds in all starters from unova all the way to paldea, as well as zorua, axew and rockruff, and allows evolving eevee into sylveon.

Speaking of which, fairy type has been patched into the game! Disarming voice replaces milk drink and moonblast replaces judgement, which was unused.

Some non-traditional starters are no longer available as hero options in this due to lack of space, but are still available as partners. (Skitty can be chosen as a hero in version 1.0.0 only, so download that version instead of the latest if you wanna use her! Riolu and Shinx are available in version 1.2.1 and below)

If one of your faves was taken off the hero roster (eg vulpix, skitty, riolu, munchlax, etc), I have a tutorial here on how to quickly edit the patched file to put them back in :)

Several regional variants have been added! Alolan Raichu, Alolan Marowak and Hisuian Typhlosion are now available as potential evolutions for their respective base stages.

Partners across both rescue team and all three versions of explorers are available too, including Cubone, Munchlax, Machop, Vulpix, Riolu, etc

Sprites and portraits are courtesy of the brilliant PMD Sprite Repository and the many incredible artists who contribute to it!

Credits for all improvement patches, sprites and portraits are included in the download, as well as an explanation on how to patch the game and the full starter list.

The mod is split in two versions to accommodate all the partners - MIDDAY version and MIDNIGHT version. The download includes both, as well as the tool required to patch your game! You'll need a clean US copy of pmd eos at hand.

A full list of moves learned by newly added Pokémon can be found here, as well as info on how to evolve them and their IQ groups.

If you run into any issues, feel free to drop me an ask or DM and I'll see how I can help/what I need to fix!

You can find the download for this rom hack here!

Edits/updates noted under the cut:

(27/04/23)

The overall mod now has a name - expanded sky! Reflected earlier on in the post.

I've been informed that the included patching tool (XDelta) doesn't work on mac, and after some digging around and discussions in dms we found this tool works for Mac instead.

Added graphics to the post displaying which heroes and partners are part of the hack.

(11/05/23)

Added link to learnset compilation for all new pokémon.

(17/05/23) Version 1.1.0 has been released!

Sobble is now a starter, replacing Skitty (Skitty is still accessible by downloading v1.0.0 on the download page). Sobble is also now a partner in MIDNIGHT.

Zorua/Zoroark's moveset has been tweaked slightly

Base forms of all new starters can now be found in Oran Forest, and can be recruitable in the post-game. The new fire starters can also be found in Giant Volcano.

Extra portraits and sprites were added for Cubone, Psyduck and Machop. Like the rest of the new assets in this mod, these were imported from the PMD Sprite Repository, and credits are on the title screen and in the readme.txt.

Extra credits + more in-depth instructions for patching the game included in the readme.txt.

(18/05/23)

Added a link to a tutorial on swapping out heroes for others already existing in the game.

(22/05/23) - Version 1.1.1 has been released!

Fixed genders for female starter options on the quiz. Updated Fuecoco to use new portraits and sprites. (Credits to Garbage)

(23/05/23) - Version 1.1.2 has been released!

Female starters from gens 5-9 can now evolve correctly (save for starters who don't have evolutions in the game yet - these are listed in the text file in the download)

Rockruff can now evolve, and Midnight Lycanroc's evolution method has been fixed to use the Lunar Ribbon as intended.

(15/06/23) - Version 1.2.1 has been released!

In 1.2.0, a second version of the mod was included in the zip compatible with melon emulator, and potentially others that were having issues with saving.

Fairy gummis were also made available as mission rewards and shop items.

There's a couple more things that can be seen in the changelog including bugfixes, but the main other thing promised was that Froakie and Litten can now evolve directly into Greninja and Incineroar. Due to an evolution flag not being set this ended up untrue, but has been fixed in 1.2.1.

This post claimed dazzling gleam is in the game, but it should've said disarming voice.

🆕 (10/03/24) - Version 1.3.0 has been released!

Dusk Lycanroc, Drizzile, Inteleon, Grookey, Axew and Fraxure have been added, as well as Alolan Raichu, Alolan Marowak an Hisuian Typhlosion.

Axew replaces Shinx in the hero roster, and Grookey replaces Riolu. Additional portraits and sprites added for starter evolutions, including vanilla starters. Sleep animations have been copied over to EventSleep/Laying/Wake animations if missing.

Greninja erroneously had the same moveset as Froakie. This has now been fixed.

Credits are no longer displayed on the title screen.

Sprite, portrait and patch credits can now be viewed by talking to a Cyndaquil NPC on the crossroads.

Evolution help can also be accessed by talking to this same NPC.

#pokemon #pmd #eos #pmd eos #rom hacks #I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR SO LONG... REALLY HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT #pmd expanded sky