#I love finding tiny details in media I like

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Craving you

Dark!Wanda Maximoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - you take a job working for Maximoff industries without realising your bosses obsession with you before it's too late.

Warnings - stalking, creepy Wanda, dark Wanda, stalker Wanda, begging, masturbation(pls I can't spell it), humping, finical abuse? Finger sucking, gagging, tears, not proofread, lmk if there's anything else I should add!!

Words- 1.9k

A/n - I've never written anything dark or like this before so even more than usual all feedback is appreciated!!! <333

Wanda Maximoff. Over achieving ruthless ceo with no weakness, we'll that was until you began working for her company. So distracting to her and her cruel attitude with you bright energy and wide smiles, how could she be mean to someone.. someone like you. Your long floral dresses which she noticed always had matching earrings and sweet smelling perfumes which reminded her of the most gorgeous flowers, she made notes to find out the brand of perfume so she could spray it across her house to remind her of you. From the minute you'd walked in on your first day she knew she wanted you, she needed you, she wanted you all to herself but for now she was content letting you continue your job unaware of her lingering gaze on your body as she'd admire every curve and edge while you walked around her office. Unaware of the way your things seemed to go missing and the tiny cameras that began to occupy all angles of your cubicle room.

Your first few weeks she kept a close eye, making sure you were settling into the office and that everyone was being nice to you.. but not too nice of course. She watched through the cttv as you made coffees for the other workers in the break room, what a sweet soul. Wanda took notice of how other coworkers looked at you making sure to move the ones who were getting too bold to another department, its not that she didn't want you to find love it just had to be with the right person, with her. She learnt your interests from eavesdropping and searching your computer after hours.. this wasn't creepy was it? No of course not she brushed off the thought, she just wanted to get to know her employees this was normal. All bosses did that. She since found out your favourite colour; lilac. That you had two pet cats called Marlo and Nixie also that they were your screensaver for your office computer. She also discovered your love for your journal, selfishy she always hoped you'd forget it after work so Wanda could read through every page and discover every little detail about your life.

It only seemed as the weeks went on her obsession seemed to grow. Finding a reason to move your cubicle closer to her office saying there was a leak where your old one was and that you'd be much safer here. The pre mentioned perfume well she found out what it was, gucci flaura. She'd found it whilst rifling through your bag while you were in the bathroom. Your salary wasn't enough to afford perfumes like this so it must of been a gift so she made sure to buy you some in preparation for your next birthday. After this the stalking . More thorough resarch began, she searched up all your social media's, found old jobs, checked extended families Facebook, somehow managed to hack your home Internet after she located your current home, a shared two bed flat in a bad area of town, god when you were her's you'd never have to share such a dingy flat the rest of your life. Back to the Internet she tracked everything you looked up or bought, occasionally deleting searches she didn't approve of. Next she worked on getting into your home's security cameras... just to make sure your safe, this city is dangerous after all.

Wandas little obsession was only growing and was beginning to get a little for lack of  better words.. depraved. Shed stay up late at night watching you change in your apartment touching herself to the gorgeous silhouette of your body. She'd spray the perfume you wore around her room before humping her pillow. She followed you around town from a distance capturing pictures of you to add to her collection. Your sweetness only furthered this, the confused pout on your face when you realised your cardigan had gone missing without a trace, deciding to ask Wanda about it you missed her smug smirk instead just accepting the answer she gave you.

"Maybe you didn't bring it in darling. I mean I know how forgetful you are. Your lucky we keep around such a clutz like you." In return you'd nodded your head and left her office feeling like an idiot for even suggesting someone could have taken it.

Wanda was slowly winning you over, atleast that's what she thought until she saw you getting a little too close to a fellow coworker, Marcus. If only you could've felt her glare through the security camera. For a little bit she decided to let it go assuming Marcus was just being creepy with you ans that moving him to another department would do the trick. That only led her to see you were the one initiating the flirting with Marcus. How could you do this to her, Wanda felt her heart shattering as she threw her mug at the office wall in a fit of pure rage. You were hers. Her property. What could you not understand about that?

You'd left her no decision. She'd make you understand your place even if she had to hurt you, her precious.

You were called into Wandas office one day, unaware of her desire for you, you had assumed nothing of it hoping perhaps got a pay rise. I mean you'd been working tooth and nail recently maybe she was going to prove your work hadn't gone unnoticed. You quietly knocked on her office door and she immediately recognised the way you knocked. How couldn't she? She loved you after all.

"Y/n come sit." She tells you after letting you in. As you enter you pick up on the tension in the air, the dark edge to her voice as she spoke to you. This wasn't going to be good but you couldn't think of what you'd done. You sat back nervously in the chair infront of her desk, fearing what to come. Wanda gazed at you quietly, how cute you looked when scared. The way your eyes widened and you bit your gum, adorable. Maybe she should have done this long ago.

"I'm sure you know why your here-." She starts.

"No.. I don-.."

"Don't interrupt me when I'm speaking." Wanda snaps as she hears your voice making you go quiet and shrink further into your chair wishing you could dissappear.

"Now as I was saying I'm sure you know why your here. For your inappropriate harassment of Marcus." Your jaw dropped at this news, there had to be some confusion you'd never harass anyone. You were about to speak opening your mouth to do so when she held up a hand to shush you. "We have witness statements from other colleagues to back up this statement. Marcus came to us three weeks ago saying you were making unwanted advances on him, so we moved him to another department." She pauses staring at you, judging you at least that's what you saw. You felt like the world was crumbling around you. You'd never do this to anyone this had to be a mix up. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes and Wanda had to hold back a malicious grin, she had you just where she wanted you. "Today he handed in a letter of resignation stating you were becoming unbearable and beginning to scare him." Oh it was laughable the look on your face. Of course Marcus had never really resigned, Wanda had fed him the exact same story and fired him. "So that comes to you y/n. We can't have people scaring off and harassing other employees here." She can barely hold the excitement back anymore.

"So what? I'm fired?" You whispered in response, terrified for the answer you knew was coming. You hadn't done anything wrong but it was clear Wanda had made up her mind about you.

"Exactly."

She looked at you like a predator stalking it's prey.

"But.. but I needed this job.."

"You'll find another." Her voice was stern, unchanging no matter what you said.

"Please.." You managed to muster the singular word out and you swear your saw her face contort into a sick grin.

"Say it again darling."

"Please." There it was an unsettling sickening smile that made you want to squirm back in your chair.

"Hmm.. well when you beg like that." She pauses thinking for a second. "On your knees." She commands in a voice foreign to the one she usually spoke with you in.

You looked up to her hesitant thinking this could be here twisted idea of a joke but the look in her eyes made it clear she wasn't. Slowly you step off the chair and kneel down on the floor. She walks round the table placing your head against her thigh, tilting your head up to make eye contact with her and beginning to wave her hand through your hair. "Beg again. Like you mean it."

You were horrified at this idea and you knew it was wrong but you couldn't help but feel like some of this was right, the soothing feeling you felt with her hand knotted in your hair. "Please Wan-.." A harsh slap was placed against your face as you called her by her first name. Correcting yourself you began again. "Please Mrs Maximoff.." Her touch was soft again now, the hand that just hit you now gently caressing your cheek and wiping tears from it. "..please give me my job back. I really need it to pay my bills and to make ends meet. I need this job, it's the only place I've ever worked that pays me enough to survive. And I know you don't believe me but I never did those things to Marcus.. I dont know why he said that." More tears fall and you open your mouth to continue but she places her slender finger to your lips before you can speak.

"Hmmm.. your very convincing sweetheart." Her finger presses against your mouth demanding access and when you don't allow it another slap hits you forcing your mouth to open allowing her fingers inside. "Sorry about that darling I don't mean to be rough.. you see you've just made me very angry today. Suck." She commands you again and this time you listen not wanting to experience more stinging in your cheek. Slowly and a little reluctantly you suckle on her two fingers. Running your tongue along them. "Good girl." Her other hand massages your hair.

"Now it just wouldn't be appropriate to give you your old job back.. but I can think of a better one. You can work for me or should I say under me." A low laugh escapes her mouth as she looks down at your head lay against her thigh. "You could be my personal assistant. Help me out. Please me. Serve me. Now what do you think of that dorogoy?" Before letting you speak she forces her hand down your throat causing you to gag. She then removes them and licks your drool off them.

"Uhm.." It doesn't take you long to think of an answer. You needed a job and Wanda was being kind enough to offer you one again. "Yes please Mrs. Maximoff."

"That was the correct choice dear." Her finger strokes your jaw line. "You've no idea how long I've been waiting to see you like this. All mine." You want to flinch at her words but all you feel is a fluttery feeling in your stomach.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— AN INTRODUCTION TO CREATIVE CAPTIVITY

SUMMARY : dean wants to know more about you and takes matters into his own hands when you don’t show up at his bakery. unreasonably, he doesn’t expect you to come back home early, but his mission was mostly successful.

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none 

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, possessiveness, soft Dean, implied panty kink, creepiness escalates, nerdy reader, reader isn’t perfect, (vague) chronic illness, voyeurism, b&e, stealing, slow chapter, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 6.6k

A/N : this chapter will lead up to the square stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. no baking :’(. heheh, Dean’s a lot softer and way more caring than the typical psycho-yandere type maybe some of yall were thinking of. I did research on yandere types and yandere traits, and found that it’s completely acceptable! in fact, a soft yandere is preferred, LOL. xx

Over the years Dean found that the perks of being undead included not having to sleep. That meant there were no nightmares to haunt him.. and now, that he had all the time in the world to watch you, to research you, first.

You were a fluffy cloud of love that became his companion through the sleepless, endless night. He knew seeing you again would feel like an eternity had passed, so he indulged in thoughts of you to keep him company.

He was home now and he had nothing to do as the moon bled through the windows of the place he “lived” in. He laid in his bed, unable to shut his brain off for the pretence of a peaceful sleep that he enjoyed doing routinely ever since he was a… vampire. 

His four hours of nothingness. 

He had too much time on his hands. 

He’d already read over a thousand books, watched over a thousand films and series, scrolled through the endless stream of videos on social media, and attempted to get good at hundreds of hobbies. What was the point of it anymore, after all?

Now, he thought of you. And that was the only point that made any sense to him. The only thing that mattered in his useless life. The only reason why he even wanted the sun to rise and bring another day. 

If it meant that he was able to see you again. To know everything about your existence. Then, it all mattered. The world needed to keep spinning and the world needed to be safe, for you. 

He took his phone from the nightstand and appreciated the wallpaper of his beautiful Impala. He was uncomfortably restless. He wanted to keep thinking of you, but he also wanted to shut his brain off. He couldn’t creep you out, it would ruin everything. He stared at the numbers telling the time, 1:24 AM. 

You were probably asleep by now. 

He wondered about you again. What position did you sleep in? What colour were your sheets? What was the texture of them? Did you use multiple blankets? Were you cold, often? Were your hands and feet always the only thing that was cold? Did you not suffer that way at all? Did you wear socks to sleep? What was the temperature of your home? Did you wear baggy clothes to sleep? Or something sexy? Or something cute? What was the colour of your walls? How did you decorate your home? Was it fun? Minimalistic? Did your house already smell like you again?

He cared so much about every tiny detail of your life and the place you called home. He itched to just get out of bed and find where you lived to see for himself. 

But for now, he lifted himself up slightly to rest against the headboard of his bed and unlocked his phone to find you wherever he could. He felt embarrassed to do so, but he searched your name on every app, including the dating ones he never removed despite being… Well, he hadn’t had sex since he became a vampire. He was terrified of anything bad happening to the women he slept with. 

The thought made him freeze. Would he lose control with you? Would he ever hurt you? His mind overflowed with images of your blood and him standing above you. He would die before he ever hurt you. He shook the thoughts away, remembering Lenore, and the handful of monsters that coexisted peacefully with humans. 

He could be with you. You could be his. 

You were all he could think about. It’s a shock that he hadn’t shoved his hands in his pants and pleasured himself just thinking of you. He would have, but he felt it would be disrespectful to you. 

He did try to relieve himself with those sexy vampire women in the past, but he just didn’t feel any sort of attraction towards them because so few of them even cared about humans. It was unbecoming. They were arrogant, indifferent, and it wasn’t even sexy. He just couldn’t get it “up” with bloodsuckers. So, what? He was still prejudiced and all that. Whatever, he spent most of his time as a vampire still hunting. 

He killed the entire nest and hunted down anyone that managed to slip through his fingers. He tried his hardest to keep being a hunter, with Sam’s brain protected with a wall, he had hope, a reason to keep going. But that was all gone, his family was gone: Sam, Cas. 

When word spread that he was a vampire, and it did—like a nuclear bomb—the fallout was massive. Somehow, the fear of the Winchesters was hundred-fold, even though, in all his time as a vampire, Dean hadn’t slipped up even once. 

He didn’t know how he did it. 

He really just did. 

He remembered the devouring thirst of being around humans when he was in the process of turning, while he looked for the leech that bled into his mouth for the cure Samuel and Sam were waiting to have confirmed. He could smell every human’s blood, taste the delicious quench of it in the air, and he somehow walked straight past every one. And when that one vamp opened the fridge to feed him a pick-me-up, the scent of it was overpowering, but never quite enough for his stubborn ass.

He declined and carried on with the mission, but the world had other plans for him. When he found the guy that turned him, of course he knew that Dean hadn’t fully turned; he was the leader of the nest, after all. He was smart and didn’t let Dean make any move unless he drained one of the women he didn’t find useful for the nest. 

He refused but the leader of the nest didn’t take no for an answer, and once again, forced Dean to feed on one of the women in the cages. Dean remembered that way it felt, the taste of warm blood soothing the aching dryness in his throat. Dean had planned on biting the poor girl for show and collecting the blood in his mouth to spit it out later, but once it touched his tongue, the bloodlust took over.

He didn’t know what possessed him to stop. Maybe the way the girl whimpered, because she was just a girl. Or the way she pleaded for him to stop with her weak, cracked voice. The way her body slowly sank into him and crumbled limply, but he somehow managed to push her away from him.

She thanked him, even though she was still stuck being a blood bag for the nest. Dean felt guilty, even by just remembering how it all started. His soulless brother, his idiot best friend. How was anyone supposed to know how to handle that situation? 

Dean grieved his human life. Having to abandon Lisa and Ben on top of it all. Then, his brother’s life. And finally, his best friend’s life. 

Sure, Cas was the one who made the mess to begin with, but what was the point of friendship if you couldn’t forgive them for the worst of the worst? Obviously, there was a line, but with the type of life they lived, what Cas had done didn’t cross the line. After all, Cas tried to make amends, even if it was too late. 

Dean could stay mad forever at Cas, but he was going to be ancient some day. What purpose would that hatred serve when everyone was dead? Forgiveness was all he had left to remind him he still had some semblance of humanity.

And right now, he needed to feel human. For you. 

He was more relieved than he cared to admit when he didn’t find you on any dating apps. So, he deleted every single one after he got the answers he was hoping to not find there. 

He hated that your Facebook was more dead than he was. You didn’t have your relationship status updated or your birthday published. There was nothing, just an old photo of you at some Korean restaurant. And even your family members’ accounts were as dry as his throat felt after going days without feeding. They revealed nothing, but he did find your friends: Bela Levante and Daphne Jordan.

But there was hardly anything to see about you on their profiles. God, woman, why did you have to hide yourself so hard?

He carefully scrolled through Instagram and groaned at another obstacle. Your account was private. He wished to stare at photos of you. The numbers on your profile teased him, he could see the amount of followers you had, the number of people you were following, and fuck… 43 posts he could be gazing at like a celebrity’s fanboy. 

He wanted to see everything “private” about your life, your hobbies, flashes, glimpses of your life, pets—if you had any, and everything about your family. All the little things that would have slowly painted you on the empty canvas in his mind. 

Dean shut his phone off with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling being illuminated with the moonlight, creating shadows from the tree that creaked outside by the window. 

How was he supposed to feel about you? What was he supposed to do to get closer to you? Would you see him again the next morning? Or anytime after that? Would he see you in days? Weeks?

Would you think of him at all? Or would you be too busy with your life to do so? Did you even want to see him again? Did you feel the pull he felt towards you? Was he being delusional to think that there could possibly be something between you and him?

He’d have to take matters into his own hands if you prolonged appearing in his life. If he got dozens of women to like him before, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t want him in the same way. He just needed to play his cards right. 

5 Days Later

Coming into your life was more difficult than Dean anticipated.

He went out more than he would have wanted, hoping to find you anywhere in town. So, you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be available for the first couple of days or weeks in town as you tried to settle in. He hoped it was just something you said to avoid Andy.

At least he knew you weren’t lying about that. 

He only saw you once three days ago at the grocery store. He watched you as subtly as he could, his eyes focused on your every move, his ears sharpened to your voice, every atom in his body was attuned to you, his nexus. 

He wished he was standing there next to you, as your boyfriend, a lover, a partner, whatever. As long as you were only his. So he could watch your cute faces when you touched something that you didn’t like, or be there to laugh with you when you giggled at something you saw, or to be there to remind you of something you forgot and had to pull up the list on your phone. He wanted to know what it was like to have another conversation with you, about anything. Was that asking too much?

He didn’t get everything he’d planned on getting when he got there, but at least he had your plates and the car you drove. He wished he was brave enough to have talked to you, to pretend to bump into you. Although it wouldn’t have been much of an act, he really hadn’t expected to see you there.

But there was something raw and real about watching you while you were alone, and in your head as you walked through the most-likely unfamiliar grocery shop. When was the last time you stepped foot in there? You stared at the signs above each aisle with surprise when you’d walk in and didn’t find what you probably would have years ago. 

He made his way to his car and thought of all the ways he could get you to be his. In any way that he could have you. All his ruminations and all his time was devoted to the goal of being with you. So much so that he felt like his entire life was on hold.

He knew it would start up again as soon as you entered his life. However, he hadn’t seen you—well, he hadn’t spoken to you in five days, and he wanted to respect you by letting you have your own space, but it was getting painful for him to be away from you for so long.

He waited to hear the beat of your heart or the sound of your voice being carried through the air and into his bakery, but he was only met with disappointment. Every time the door opened, he wished it was you walking in, he wished it was you smiling and flirting with him like every woman he regularly saw.

But you never showed up. 

Did he make you up in his imagination? Was he that desperate to feel something? Were you real and simply uninterested in him? That thought hurt more than it should have. He thought he’d left a good impression on you, and after you left that hundred dollar bill, his mind didn’t allow him to believe you hated him. In fact, it was the only proof that you were real after all. 

Why couldn’t you be as infatuated with him as he was with you? Why couldn’t you be as interested in him as the women who carved out time for him in their busy lives? 

You were impossible to get close to. His fingertips barely tapped the surface of your life and like a fish, you swam quickly in the opposite direction to evade being captured by him. But didn’t you see you’d be better off with him? Happier? Freer? More loved than you could fathom? More loved than you could ever be with anyone else? More loved than you have ever been loved?

You were on his mind every moment of every day since he met you. Was he nothing to you? How would you feel knowing that everything new he baked was because you had inspired him in his daydreams. He wished he could ask you how it tasted, what you liked, if he should make more of whatever new invention he had created. If he should add it to the menu. He’d make them all again for you to try them and give him these insights and suggestions. 

Mostly, he needed to know more about you. He just couldn’t bear the thought of you being a mystery. Or the fact that you’d never let him into your life to know the things that you inhibited within the safety of your home. Would the things in your house reveal your psyche? That’s all he wanted, to worm his way into you by knowing these things about you. 

Sure, he could be himself, but he needed an advantage first. He needed time with you where it wasn’t obvious he was imposing himself on your life without reason. Where could he accidentally or coincidentally find himself in order to spend time with you? So that it could all fall together perfectly as he has fantasised every waking moment of his existence since he met you.

He could only acquire that information by infiltrating your home. 

Dean didn’t expect this. 

It was all he could think when he tracked down your scent to where you lived—and he relaxed when he didn’t find your car parked in the driveway in front of your home. 

He blinked. 

He was astonished as he gawked at your home. The light of the stunning peach sunset was reflected on the tinted glass that made up the outer walls of your home. Those glass windows, from floor to ceiling, also reflected the breathtaking forest surrounding the area. How convenient that your house was surrounded by thick green trees. 

He stepped closer to your home to the surrounding area, the giant space that was entirely yours. There were a few plants, and despite being grateful about the lack of surveillance, he clicked his tongue in disapproval at the lack of it. 

You needed to be safe. 

He’d have to check out the glass, make sure it was shatter proof and bulletproof—even though there was no reason why your house should be armed against anything like that. He needed to make sure no creeps had made their way to your home, squatters or even people who may be infatuated with you. 

You hypocrite, part of his brain accused. But he huffed, pouting and narrowing his eyes straight ahead at the reflection of himself, scolding his brain for trying to compare him to those who were more selfish and probably more dangerous than him. He pushed the small voice that reminded him that there was nothing scarier or more dangerous than a bloodsucker being around a human. 

Dean pushed every thought away and had to quickly become familiar with the outside of your home before deciding it was safe to enter, to really get to know you. 

Were you going to clean this whole place by yourself? Did you have someone else do it? Did you cook? Or did someone else do that for you, too? He needed to know. How much freedom did he have to be in your home whenever it suited him?

He made his way to the porch and brushed his fingertips against the lock of your door. He may not have had a heart to race at the thought of being where you always were, where you felt safest, but his body still thrummed and tingled with excitement. 

Dean searched his jacket for the pick-set he carried in the inner pocket over his chest. He thought about how he hadn’t picked locks in a while. He didn’t have any reasons to, just the occasional need for it if he caught a case nearby. And ever since he became a vampire, he found that it was easier than before, easier to listen for the clicks of each pin falling as he slowly turned and prodded with his tools. 

He apologised to you under his breath once the door unlocked. 

He shoved the pick-set back into his jacket pocket while standing at the entrance of your home, and deeply inhaled the scent of you rushing outwards to greet him. Yes.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, surprised by the emptiness and the smell of newness that mingled with your sweet aroma. 

You were still way behind on unpacking. 

He found a shoe rack by the entrance and decided to respect your house rules by kicking off his boots and placing them neatly into an empty spot. So, that’s what it would look like if this were his home, too? His shoes, right next to yours. It looked right.

He curled his toes inside his socks, feeling the cool floor against his already cold skin and smiled. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up at the coat rack, making himself at home. He could pretend for a few hours that this was how it always was.

He stepped deeper into your home, looked around and deflated. 

There wasn’t much to explore. Most rooms he walked into were empty, or they had boxes that had yet to be opened by you. Maybe it would scare you if he tried to help by taking everything out, so he left the boxes as you had them. 

Why hadn’t you made yourself at home? It’s been days and you haven't really done much. Was this just part of your indifference or was this because of the secret illness you had? Were you that busy with work? You were pretty vague about it when you were talking to Andy. 

For now, Dean sighed, he knew nothing. 

There was no indication of what was to be your living room. No furniture, no television, no tables. Unless he opened the boxes to peek inside and find out what each room would be, he would have to wait until you got to it yourself. 

At least your kitchen was easy to explore. Though most of the cabinets were empty. Only three glasses, four plates, two bowls… God, woman. Should he get you some things? He shook his head and quickly pulled open every door and drawer to peek inside the completely uninteresting contents. 

But finally, he got to your pantry. You had lots of snacks. Dean chuckled at the type of organisation that you had put them in. By colour. He smiled and reached out to touch them. He missed being hungry for this type of stuff, not that it stopped him from indulging in it every now and then anyway. 

His brain nagged him: Which ones were your favourite? Well, he had to guess that they were all your favourite to some extent. But maybe it was the Rice Krispies, they were nearly all gone. There were some spicy peanuts, too, and some other spicy, but still sweet, Mexican candies he had tried before—some, he hadn’t tried at all. 

His mouth would have watered if he were still alive. 

He snorted, moved on to read each package and box; he needed to try whatever he hadn’t already tried before, just to see if he could have that in common with you.

He didn't have to, but he wanted to be able to say: I have tried it before. At least. Maybe that would mean something to you, maybe it would matter. On the other hand, he already had a lot in common with you—in terms of preference for snacks. He liked your taste. 

He shut the pantry door and opened your fridge.

He pulled out the freezer and lifted a brow at the lack of contents. No frozen, microwaveable food. Just vanilla ice cream, some shrimp, salmon, halibut, and steak. That’s it? He frowned. Did you rarely eat at home or did you already cook whatever else could’ve filled your refrigerator? Maybe he was overthinking it; you looked healthy when he met you and when he saw you at the grocery. But looks could be deceiving—you were sick after all, and he had yet to find out what you had. 

Is that why you became a geneticist? Was your disease genetic?

He closed the freezer and opened the horizontal middle door. He found two bottles of mineral water, four bottles of water, and one can of Sprite. Was there any point to the giant refrigerator if you hardly used it? He snickered. 

After he finished checking out the kitchen—and after washing a bowl with traces of Greek yoghurt, honey, and oats and the spoon you’d used—he began making his way to the next room, trying to find more information about you.

He made a mental note of the softener and detergent you used for laundry and all the other cleaning materials you kept in the laundry room. He checked out the washing machine and dryer to make sure they worked properly—so you wouldn’t have to struggle. 

He frowned the whole time. He wouldn’t be bumping into you at the laundromat, that was slightly disappointing to think about. 

He made his way upstairs, giddy to find your bedroom once he got to the top of the stairs. He held his breath in anticipation after opening each door down the long hallway, always to an empty room, but he exhaled when finally found your room.

Your scent embraced him when he opened your bedroom door. Now, he’d definitely find out things about you that were much more interesting. Much more intimate. 

He was thorough with his search. 

He checked out every item on your shelves and your desk, your figurines and other collectibles. He took a picture of your bookcase to become familiar with your books the next time he visited the library. He opened each drawer and your dresser to review the contents thoroughly, your clothes and keepsakes and trinkets hidden beneath—and stole a pair of your underwear as he bit his lip; he knew it was wrong. 

He made sure to steal your pink lace underwear that didn’t match with a bra you owned. He easily discovered which bras weren’t part of a set and memorised your cup size. You chose comfort over sexiness—even the sexy lace you owned looked comfortable. You were so cute. 

He turned to your closet and examined every article of clothing—which was organised by colour as well. From sexy to cute dresses, old and new t-shirts, sexy and cute cropped shirts, and so much more he wanted to see you wear for himself. He found a few of your scrubs and imagined the way they’d hug your curves, even if they were hidden below a lab coat. You were so sexy. So fucking hot, he couldn’t believe he was touching the things you’d wear at some point.

He went through your shoes to memorise your foot size, but made a mental note of your favourite type of footwear. 

He closed the door and looked over your vanity desk and the limited amount of makeup. Mostly, you had hair products. Gel to enhance the volume, different brushes for different uses, a multi-use hair dryer or something like that, cute hair ties and hair clips and a small bundle of what he’d label as boring; they were just brown, black, and tan hair ties. 

He slipped a brown hair tie onto his wrist—one that was loose from usage. He pocketed the mini-lotion bottle that was half-empty—a miniature version of the larger bottle you owned. And after peaking through your extensive jewellery collection, he stole a thin silver necklace with a cute little charm. 

He searched your nightstand, glanced at your cute lamp, a small mirror, a water bottle and a pill bottle. At the sight of the orange container containing a month’s worth of medication, he instantly picked it up and snapped a quick picture of the name to do research later. He wanted to look out for you. 

He opened your password-locked laptop and the tablet beneath. He wouldn’t be getting into those anytime soon. He had no idea what your password could be or what set of numbers mattered to you. It was frustrating. 

He opened the single drawer and pursed his lips—amused. God, you were so naughty. But you did live alone, why would you hide it? It's not like you knew he’d be inspecting every object you owned. 

Dean leered at each sex toy with a smirk and imagined—the fact that you probably used them more than once fueled his daydreams—the way you’d pleasure yourself with them. How many times could you come? Which toy was your favourite? Who did you fantasise about when you were in the midst of immense pleasure? He hoped it was someone unattainable or fictional. 

His hand twitched at the metal handle he’d pulled to open up the drawer. He was tempted to touch and kiss each toy that had at some point touched the depths and outer skin of your sweet pussy. But he exhaled shakily and closed the weakly concealed Pandora’s Box to move on with his investigation of your life. 

He checked the bottom space of your nightstand, open to the world. He found an extensive collection of sticker sheets and sticker books, empty A6 notebooks, one that was full, and another that was halfway worked through. He pulled the two of them out, but turned his attention to your bed. 

His mind inquired things he simply couldn’t figure out without you telling him. Did you pleasure yourself here? Do you ever pleasure yourself on the chair of your writing desk? Or the backless seat of your vanity desk? Did you plan on doing it downstairs on a couch you’d set up in the future? 

He slid his hand down the soft cotton sheets of your bed and picked up one of your silk pillows, accidentally knocking off a weighted dinosaur and a tiny shark the size of his palm that rested on its back. The other small stuffed animals remained undisturbed as he lifted your pillow to his face and inhaled slowly, deeply the scent of your shampoo, softener, and detergent. 

He sighed softly, eyes closed. You smelled so good, he could probably bite you if you let him. He’d never want to purposely hurt you. He just needed to feel you. 

He pulled your pillow away from his lips and nose to fix it back in place along with your woolly companions and blindly set down the two books he’d begin reading once he was done with his exploration. 

Was this the same bed and the same sheets you’d slept in when you were a teenager? Were you as horny as he was at that age? Did you sleep with anyone at any point in your life—on these very sheets? Were they new? New as in bought here once you moved in? Were these the ones you used when you left home to go to university?

Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking of that. 

He stomped away to your bathroom and rifled through over-the-counter medication behind the mirror—allergy pills, Benadryl cream, ibuprofen. He found your pink with green toothbrush, your toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash. He quickly glanced at the shrinking bar of honey-coloured soap by the sink inside a small bowl.

He rubbed his fingers against the beige hand towel and then your olive-coloured towel by the shower door. He inspected the scent and brand of your shampoo, body wash, face washes, and conditioner.

Why was he so drawn to learn all these things about you? He never cared about any of these things before. Sure, to some extent he tried to learn stuff about Cassie and Lisa, but never like this. Why couldn’t he take it slowly? Couldn’t he be normal about you? You were just a woman. Just a woman who made every withering seed suddenly bloom in his desiccated heart and desolate soul. Of course he’d turn to you, like a sunflower turning toward the Sun. It was his destiny, one he wouldn’t dream of fighting. 

He returned to your bedroom and slowly plopped down on your bed. He smiled instantly, swallowed by your soft mattress, and laid down on your pillows with your notebooks in his lap. He lifted the one that was full and became wrapped up in the story of your life.

He was only partially disappointed that you’d only begun writing a year before. He only knew about that and still nothing of your past. Only through subtext and vague statements could he decipher events of your past life. And every now and then, something would bring up the past and that’s how he discovered small details about you. 

Inside your half-filled journal, he found your work schedule. 

“Residency,” he mumbled and glared at the extensive, ridiculous hours listed for you to work. No wonder he hardly ever saw you. No wonder you were so behind on unpacking. 

Dean’s ears perked up when he heard rocks and dirt crunching beneath tires. His heart would have stopped if it were beating and his blood would’ve run cold if it still ran through his body. He was instantly at the window of your bedroom watching you drive towards the house.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean muttered, watching as your car pulled up into the driveway. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He scurried to shove your books back into place before legging it downstairs to retrieve his jacket and shoes and panicked momentarily. He wasn’t ready to leave yet! 

Did he touch anything else? Did he move something he wasn’t supposed to? He was so enthralled with his expedition around your home that he’d completely blanked out anything he should’ve been mindful of. 

He made his way back upstairs and quickly threw his shoes and jacket into the farthest empty room down the hall. There’s no reason you’d check out every room. Were you paranoid? Wait, he hadn’t accounted for this. Damn it, he was way in over his head.

It was too late. You were already making your way up to your porch. Dean could hear your quiet sigh, the sleepiness of it made him feel warm—at least the illusion of it. 

He quickly rid the bed of the form his body had made atop your sheets by pulling carefully at the edges and smoothing his hand over the wrinkles that remained until your bed looked untouched once more. 

Dean’s ears perked up at the sound of your car keys and your shoes being kicked off carelessly. Dean was suddenly excited to see what you wore. So, we should hide? his mind questioned. We? Dean scowled and looked around before picking the cliché of all hiding places: the closet. 

It felt like an eternity before you began to make your way upstairs. 

Much to Dean’s dismay, you’d discarded your lab coat at the coat rack, so he wouldn’t be fulfilling his fantasy tonight. But he could hear the material of your scrubs brush against itself as you shuffled lazily up the stairs and into the hallway leading up to your bedroom. 

Your door creaked open, you stretched, and then began to push your pants down your legs. Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward to gently prod the closet door open enough to watch your black scrubs get pushed down your bare legs.

You kicked them off along with your socks and left them on the floor to lift your shirt up. Beneath it, you wore a grey thermal shirt. Dean watched, his mouth parched suddenly as your body stretched upwards, just in your violet coloured underwear.

He bit his lip to stop himself from saying something under his breath about how sexy you were. He couldn’t risk you somehow hearing him. But soon, you were completely naked.

Dean peered lewdly at your bare body. The way your hair came loose over your shoulders to brush against your warm skin, the shape of your breasts, the way you shivered and your nipples tightened as you collected your clothes to throw it into the hamper. Your proportions and the entire beauty of you captivated him. 

He wanted to fuck you, yes, but he also wanted to know what it felt like to hold the elegant dip of your waist. To know what it felt like for your body to curve up and mould itself into his body when you hugged him. To know how your fingers felt when they were weaved through his, as you had sown yourself into his dead heart to give him the illusion of life, of warmth. 

What did it feel like to cup the back of your head when he kissed you? Or to hold your jaw as he tilted your head for the perfect angle to kiss in? What did your fingers feel like when they skimmed over his cold skin and twisted into his hair when you got lost in the kiss?

What did your mouth taste like if his tongue brushed against yours? What did your plush lips feel like against his? Where would your lips trail off to and how would you kiss him?

Dean was dazed at his vivid fantasy and then you disappeared into the bathroom and he finally ripped himself from the perfect twill of his daydream. Disheartened, he leaned into your clothes, sinking deeper into your closet and briefly relaxed as your soft clothes overwhelmed his senses. 

Dean considered leaving now that you were home. He sort of got what he wanted, information about you. The rest of your house may have been mostly empty, but your bedroom wasn’t. And your bedroom revealed more about you to him than the rest of your home would have.

Still, maybe you’d get on your laptop and he could discern your password. Yeah, that would definitely be ideal. He could stay in the closet. There was nowhere else he could hide and the bottom of the bed was pretty useless. Besides, there was no reason you’d check in here, none at all. 

He waited thirty minutes for you, on his phone looking up what he could about your medication. He learned quickly the side effects, what not to take with your medication, when the best time was to take it. Then moved on to the minuscule list of diseases the medication was used to treat.

He was thrown deep into the research, reminding him of the days when he would have to search things through libraries and files for lore on monsters and to brief himself on the case he’d taken. It wasn’t too different: he wanted to get closer, he wanted to solve you. The only difference was you weren’t dangerous and you were beautiful, and he actually felt motivated to willingly delve further into the rabbit hole that was your life. 

The shower turned off and Dean shut off his phone. 

It wasn’t long before you walked out of the bathroom and Dean moved closer to the closet door, peeking between the small crack as you walked into your bedroom. You were patting your hair dry with a smaller towel and had your back to him. 

You threw the small towel successfully into the hamper and sighed exhaustedly. You were so silent. He wondered if it was only because of the fatigue of your job or if you always wordlessly completed tasks. 

He would only know once you completed your residency. Or if he found you on a day where you didn’t have to work. But he didn’t think you’d have the energy to go out, even on a weekend or vacation, after working such laborious hours.

He continued to watch you expectantly as you made your way to your dresser where your underwear was, he watched you sift through the neatly organised garments before you plucked something out and then your towel came undone slightly.

“Stupid fuck,” you muttered angrily and adjusted it. He grinned at your short temperament, but he wished you’d just let it fall completely so he could see you again. You bent over and looked through your sock drawer, picked a comfortable pair and finally pulled the towel from your body and threw it over to the hamper where it only made itself halfway in. 

Dean bit his lip at the sight of your ass; he traced the long divot of your spine down your back and the curve of your waist with his gluttonous eyes. He mouthed a ‘wow’ and licked his lips as you slid your underwear carefully up your legs.

You picked out a tank top and matching pants from the middle drawers and made your way to your bed with your socks in hand. So you did sleep with socks on. Ankle socks, fluffy loose ones with pink and white patterns. 

You lazily lifted your sheets, your expression more somnolent than he expected. Your feet, covered in clean socks, hid beneath your thick warm sheets. Your whole body was covered and your cheek pressed into the same pillow he’d grabbed. 

He waited as your breathing slowed, faster than he expected, you were out. Your mind shut off, tired from long hours of work. He envied you for a moment and then allowed his affection for you to bloom in his chest as he pushed the closet door open and shut behind him. 

He made his way to you carefully, and watched your peaceful expression. You lips were parted slightly and your breathing was so low and deep that your heart slowed down serenely.

He considered kissing you as you slept, but he’d rather have your consent when you’re awake some day; that’d really show him that you wanted him. 

Instead, he pressed his lips to your jaw, then dragged them hungrily to your quiet, gentle pulse and kissed you there. His lips lingered, promising the blood that would travel to your heart, that one day, it would be all his. 

-> life ain't easy when you're a mythical creature

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[windybreeze12]

DBD Quotes that are my Roman Empire (and my reactions to them)

No version of this where I don't come get you - Charles S1 E7 (SIR???? IM SORRY??? If someone said that to me, i'd faint. Edwin is a strong one) .

Do you think it must be torture? Being the way we are? - Simon S1 E7 (I swear you could audibly hear my heart break when he said that) .

Teethface, what the fuck? - Esther S1 E6 (I love her. She's an awful person and is literally irredeemable but dammit she does her shit with style and sass and i love her) .

He did not feel the same way. But I think we are better friends because of it - Edwin S1 E8 (THEM. JUST THEM. I CANT WITH THEM.) .

You, Charles Rowland, are the best person I know - Edwin S1 E5 (It's like they want me to go throw myself off a cliff their friendship is everything to me) .

And we've got literally forever to figure out what the rest means - Charles S1 E7 (Charles is raising the bar too high i fear. the standards are through the roof) .

When you punish yourself, everywhere becomes hell - Edwin S1 E7 (*starts sobbing in the corner*) .

Imagine thinking there was only one way to do any one thing. How difficult would life be? - Kashi S1 E6 (I swear Kashi walked into this show to spit straight facts and then was never seen again. Icon.) .

We didn’t matter, he and I - Edwin S1 E1 (No because the way I swore to myself that I would protect these boys with my life the minute he said this) .

I will always hit a demon with a cricket bat for you - Charles S1 E6 (Fellas, never settle for anything less than Charles Rowland) .

I wasn't talking about you - Edwin S1 E5 (I'm not even kidding I paused the show, got up and had to take a minute because OOF Monty darling) .

As more than a friend, I’m afraid. Charles, I'm in love with you - Edwin S1 E7 (No joke this is one of the best scenes in a show I have ever watched. The acting, the dialogue, the pacing, the emotion??? UGH!!! Perfection) .

I certainly hope not, that story ends tragically - Edwin S1 E7 (There are already a million and one posts about the implications of Charles referencing Orpheus' story so go check those out but holy hell the way it made my heart twist) .

I could- we could lose Charles - Edwin S1 E3 (This was such a tiny detail but GOD I replayed it ten times before moving on) .

Honestly I just find her so charming - Edwin S1 E2 (I knew from this moment that Edwin and Niko were going to be a pair to watch. And boy was I right) .

That was my third life you bitch—i only get nine; would you fuck off - The Cat King S1 E8 (now THIS is how you creatively use a cat's nine lives in media I love it I freaking love it) .

You sacrificed me to a demon who traded me to another demon who traded me to a thing that is worse than a demon and this is your punishment! An eternity of papercuts! - Edwin S1 E7 (Honey I have an eternity of questions cause what the FUCK is this human trafficking system down in hell??? but also go off king??? 😭)

I'll update this whenever I remember anymore. Tell me more quotes in reblogs/replies i'll add them into this!

[d-targaryenshoe]

Carpets And Premieres - Luke Thompson

Word count: 827

Summary: Arriving at the premiere of the third season of a show you've been working on for two years, is rather exciting, no?

As the paparazzi flashbulbs went off like a thousand tiny suns, you and Luke, made your way down the red carpet as his hand was placed on your lower back.

You were wearing a pastel blue dress with a fitted top, a plunging neckline, and a flowing skirt that added a touch of refinement.

The intricate beading and embroidery details on the dress not only improve its visual appeal but also make it a statement piece for all who see it. 

 The fitted top ensured a flattering fit, while the flowing skirt added a touch of drama and elegance. 

The air was electric with anticipation and the sweet, intoxicating scent of popcorn wafted past, carried on the warm, humid breeze. 

Fans lined up along the barricades, some holding signs that read

 "We love you!" and "Season 3, we are ready for the feels!" while others eagerly snapped photos with their smartphones.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach as you spotted the familiar faces of the cast members, who felt more like family than co-stars. 

They were all dressed to the nines, looking like they'd just stepped out of the pages of a romantic novel.

 As you and Luke approached the interviewer, you noticed the microphone in his hand and the earnest expression on his face.

 He was excited to speak with you about the upcoming season.

"So, Luke, how does it feel to be here at the premiere of Bridgerton season three?" he asked, his voice steady and professional. 

You could see the flash of Luke's dimple as he smiled and replied

"It's absurd. We've all been working so hard on this season, and to finally share it with our fans like this is just incredible." He paused for a moment, looking into the interviewer's eyes before turning to you. 

"And, of course, having her by my side makes it even more special." You felt your cheeks redden at his words.

"And what about you, y/n?" the interviewer asked, turning his attention to you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to find the right words to express how much being a part of the Bridgerton world meant to you.

 "It's been such an extraordinary journey," you began,

 "I never could have imagined being here, standing next to this amazing man, watching our characters come to life on a screen. It's a dream come true." You glanced over at Luke, feeling his hand squeeze yours gently in support.

The interviewer seemed to sense the sincerity in your words, and nodded before asking, 

"So, what can we expect from the new season? Any special details you can share with us?" 

You and Luke exchanged knowing looks.

 "Well," you began, "I can tell you that the love story between y/c/n and Benedict, this season is going to be breathtaking. There's a lot of passion, a lot of drama, and course, a few jaw-droppers along the way." 

Luke chimed in, "And the chemistry between y/c/n and Benedict? It's off the charts. I think the fans are going to love what they see."

You smiled at him, feeling your heart flutter. Even after all this time, being around Luke still made you feel giddy. 

"And what about the other characters?" the interviewer prodded. "Any favorite moments or storylines you can share?"

 Luke thought for a moment before answering, 

"There's so much to choose from, but I think my favorite part is seeing how the Bridgerton siblings find love one by one. They're an amazing family, both on and off screen." 

You nodded in agreement.

 "And," you added with a grin, "I think we can all look forward to seeing how even a wallflower can bloom."

As the interviewer thanked you and Luke, you both excused yourselves from the media frenzy and made your way over to where your co-stars, Jonathan Bailey, Nicola Coughlan, Claudia Jessie, and Simone Ashley were standing. 

They were deep in conversation when you approached, but quickly broke away with hugs and well-wishes for the premiere. 

"How are you both holding up?" Jonathan asked with a warm smile. "This whole thing is such a whirlwind, isn't it?"

"It certainly is," you agreed, returning his grin. "But it's so exciting to be here with all of you. You've all been such a huge support system over the years." 

You glanced over at Luke, who nodded in agreement. "It does feel like a family," he said, squeezing your hand.

"Well," Nicola cut in with a laugh, "let's not forget that we also have some amazing material to work with. Lady Whistledown would be proud." 

They all shared a laugh before falling silent, gazing out at the sea of adoring fans.

 "This is going to be one heck of a ride," Claudia said with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. 

"But I think we're all up for it." You couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie and pride as you stood there with your fellow Bridgerton colleagues.

[darksigns-exe]

dad omens - noah sebastian

word count: 767

warnings: unexpected pregnancy, a tiny sliver of angst

Jolly Ruffilo Folio

It wasn’t planned. The news hit him like a brick, and he’s out of it for a good day before he re-assembles his head and calls.

There was no fight, just a I need to think that you had expected from him. You had briefly talked about your thoughts about children and family when you had started going out, but had agreed that it would be something to revisit in a few years — not a year.

You hadn’t even made up your own mind about it yet. But regardless of what you’d do, you knew that you’d have to tell him.

When he calls, he sounds so awfully meek, asks if he can come over so that you can talk properly. Says that he’d understand if you don’t want to see him right now, when the opposite is true.

He shows up at your door twenty minutes later, eyes all red as if he’s cried a little too.

The conversation you have is very honest and open. He doesn’t hide that it scares him like hell, that he doesn’t know if he’s ready for it. But the bottom line is that he’s with you no matter what you decide. And if that means being a dad, he’ll grow into that. The boy doesn’t back down from a challenge.

Noah has a few expected moments of panic. He wants to do you and this child justice, and sometimes he just can’t stop the panic from settling in.

He’s getting band things in order so that he’s as free as he can be, and of course your friends are immensely supportive in all of that. Calendars are freed up, things are restructured to give Noah more free time. The guys are around to help with whatever they can. Noah tries to be there for as many appointments as he can, helps with everything he can, even though there’s always that little bit of fear in the back of his mind. And sometimes it does get the best of him.

That all changes as soon as he’s handed your baby boy for the first time. That’s his child, you made that little person together. He’s up changing nappies, making deals with your son as if he can understand a word of what he’s saying.

He takes great pride in the bedtime story being his duty. More of than not, you find him fast asleep with your son at his side.

As he grows up, it becomes very clear that he’s the spitting image of his father, and you’re left with not one but two menaces who live for benevolent chaos.

They’re a real dynamic duo, always on the go when Noah’s at home.

He’s showing that kid off to everyone, but draws a very clear line when it comes to showing his face in public. Until he can say yes or no to being on camera, that child is not seen on social media. That doesn’t stop him from taking just so many pictures.

You have physical albums full of your kid growing up, and Noah always takes a picture with him when he leaves for tour.

He tries to call every day when he’s away, tries to make as much time not just for your kid, but also for you. Loves when you visit and takes great delight in chasing your son through the venue.

Maybe he’s not the dad who picks your kid up from soccer practice (mostly because the try-outs for that ended with your son saying that he doesn’t think that the others are in it to win it. Count on your child to be ultra competitive at the age of six) but he’s at every parent teacher conference, and he’s supportive of most new hobbies your son gets into. He draws the line at the fifth sport in one year and sits your kid down for a talk about it instead of getting upset. Turns out sports maybe aren’t his thing and he’d rather do something creative, but somehow got it in his head that sports is what he’s supposed to be doing.

A week later, Folio’s teaching him the basics of playing the drums.

Noah doesn’t ask questions when your son needs a late pickup from somewhere, doesn’t press for details but makes it clear that he can tell you both everything. And that policy of honesty pays off when he tells you about his first kiss and how he thinks that he has a real crush on that boy.

Noah’s by far not perfect, but he’s trying his hardest and that’s good enough.

[lamialamia]

We have a problem: why am I watching this sex scene again?

Ah. Sex scenes. You wild wild beast. The crossroad of many discourses and analyses and opinions and essays and now, here I am, a mere casual ww2 rpf fan, throwing my own hat to the ring. In this blog post I'm going to talk once more about sex scenes -- two in particular -- and why the eff one of them matters, making the ww2 rpf more compelling and the other did not.

Disclaimer: Whether or not sex scenes are needed in media in general or the right way to implement them across the vast spectrum of art is not part of this discussion. Please keep in mind I'm trying to complain about the writing decision in the small scope of the HBO War shows.

I have discussed the problem with the Crosby/Sandra plot line in a previous analysis here. But I think the problem with it requires another (and maybe a third) write-up. Here, I want to talk about why the tiny sex scene between Crosby and Sandra in episode 7 is a waste of screen time.

So, we have the sex scene in MOTA episode 7. It is somewhat explicit and it was clear it is consensual and that the people who are fucking is very into it. In comparison to other sex scenes in HBO War fandom, it doesn't exactly stands out to me with just the imagery of the act (of course this is a personal opinion, whether or not I find a sex scene hot or bad or corny or lovely or [insert adjective here] is not universal).

However, my problem with this sex scene between Crosby and Sandra is that it doesn't matter to the story.

After getting it on with Sandra, and then after she left him, Crosby never talked about this affair in anyway. Not over the narration, expressing some kind of sentiment over it, not with Rosie or any other guy, so me, the audience, have no idea what he think about it or how he might be affected about it. We didn't know what Sandra think or feel about it either because her scenes are about her spy works and that's it.

You might say: well he doesn't have to tell us how he feel if the show can demonstrate to us the same thing.

Yet, MOTA never did that. Furthermore, the show never portray the sex between them matters to the characters beyond getting their rocks off. And then, the sex doesn't matter to the theme of the episode nor the overall theme of the show either. It's just something that happened.

(Sad to say that maybe this sub-plot distracts me from the rest of episode 7 and 8)

This might be consider 'realistic'. In real life, people can have sex just for the joy of it. Which is true, but in a drama mini-series, the choices to include or exclude details must take in consideration whether what is on screen is valuable to the story the show is trying to tell. Why are they including this sex scene instead of the hundred other real life details that don't make the cut? We don't have a training montage for the pilots, we never learn how Quinn and Bailey get back to base from Germany, we never have the D-Day invasion sequence,...

Let's have a comparison to another sex scene.

In The Pacific episode 3, Sidney Phillips met Gwen in Melbourne and started a romance with her that ended in them having sex before he got shipped back to Pavuvu. Personally for me, it wasn't an awesome sex scene either. Both Gwen and Sidney were awkward, they kissed and the entire thing ended with him kissing her bare shoulder.

But what truly matter happened latter. When Eugene arrived in Pavuvu and reunited with Sidney, he asked Sidney about what combat was like. And to answer this, Sidney mentioned him sleeping with Gwen not to brag about his sexual conquest but to make a comparison with the brutal battles he survived.

Despite the fact that the two of them grew up together, in just a small amount of times, Sidney have been through things and done things Eugene hadn't. All of that (both combat and his brief romance with Gwen) had changed Sidney to the point that Eugene could not longer connect with him. There was now a chasm between them. Eugene looked at his friend and tried to understand him but couldn't. There were things that must be experienced to be understood.

And then, Eugene himself went through life-changing events. The war changed him so much that when he returned to Mobile, he once again couldn't connect with Sidney

Or his brother (who was in the Army and was in the euro theatre) -- another person who had gone through the war himself.

Both Sidney and Eugene's older brother had returned home before him while Eugene had just came back, fresh off the board with his mental wounds, and it showed the chasm had formed between him and these two men who supposed to shared this brutal experience with Eugene.

In fact his brother specifically mentioned how Eugene is still a virgin, which highlight further how he was 'missing out' on that particular experience that both these men have.

And this all started when we were still following H company and witnessed Sidney and Gwen having sex. That small thing compounded over time. It snowballed into all these differences and distance that Sidney would have with Eugene, and then Eugene would be having against his own hometown, his brother, his family, and his best friend. It served to show how war had did its number on Eugene in many ways.

The sex scene between Sidney and Gwen mattered to the story, it served a narrative purpose eventually.

Crosby and Sandra's sex scene did not. And to include it meant there would be less screen time for any other story line, leaving not just the sub-plot of Crosby's arc weaker, but the other ones as well. Overall, this creative decision left MOTA a weaker show in term of its writing.

[walkawaytall]

I am very stressed about a thing that I can’t discuss right now that I have literally no control over, so here’s some

fanfic writer asks

that I came up with all on my own. Ask ‘em, share ‘em, do whatever.

Have you pulled inspiration from media sources other than the property your fic is related to (a plot point from a TV show that has nothing to do with the characters/setting of the fic, a line from a book, etc.)? If so, for which story? Why did you find that media source compelling?

What is your favorite paragraph from (insert story title you want to know about here, or leave it blank for writer’s choice)? Is there a reason it’s your favorite?

What is the most amount of research you’ve done for the smallest detail? What was the detail and how much time/effort went into researching it?

Share a headcanon about (character name) in (story title)!

Is there a tiny detail in one of your fics that you feel goes tragically unnoticed?

What is your favorite type of feedback to receive (favorites/kudos, comments, DMs, complete and utter silence in the pursuit of remaining unperceived?)? If comments or DMs or anything else involving a reader writing, do you have a particular type of feedback that excites you more than other types?

Share a line or paragraph you’ve written that you don’t think will ever actually be posted in anything! (Or, if you don’t hoard cut sentences and passages like I do, share anything you want that has yet to see the light of day!)

Is there a story idea you have that you would love if it could appear fully realized but that you do not think you’ll ever write yourself?

Do you prefer to read angst or fluff? Which do you prefer to write?

If you could banish a single trope to live at the bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again by any human eyes (or at least your own), which trope would that be?

Conversely, if you had to pick a single trope to read for the next seven-and-half years, which trope would that be?

What are your thoughts on slow burn romances?

Are you secretly Tara Gilesbie aka XXXbloodyrists666XXX aka author of infamous Harry Potter fanfiction serial My Immortal? (you can trust me; I won’t tell anyone, pinky promise)

Has anyone ever created anything (art, a podfic, another fic, etc.) inspired by your work? Which work? How did you feel about that?

Is there any genre, trope, or style that you find particularly challenging to write? Do you enjoy the challenge or prefer to avoid it?

Is there a commonly held misconception about one of your stories that you’d like to correct for the masses?

What does your editing process look like?

Share a headcanon relating to (insert desired theme here)!

What was the very first fanwork you ever created? (I’m talking like maybe you made a little book out of construction paper and staples with your favorite Disney characters drawn in it when you were five years old or you drew a comic about a movie you saw when you were a preteen. That sort of thing.)

Is there anything about any one of your fics that you have been dying to discuss but haven’t had the chance to?

[dropthedemiurge]

Love for Love's Sake | Things You Didn't Notice #9

(okay it's not an episode number this time i just still have many details to point out oops pls let me go)

I swear. I thought I'd stop mentioning small details because I already wrote like 10 posts on Tumblr translating and explaining all the cultural stuff regarding this show and the obsession is already becoming embarrassing, but I rewatched the last episodes again and I've got tiny. Little. Details. That I can't help but point people to once again. Because damn, the amount of thought put into this show!

(trigger warning: first part talks about suicide and depression, next ones are linguistic and cultural)

The Black Suit & The Sea

I would've asked Koreans I know about the significance of such symbolism but they are celebrating Seollal (New Year) today and I don't wanna ruin the festive mood asking about "how would people dress for suicide" x)

But after watching this scene, I recognized some strong parallels in Korean media depicting depression, suicide and one's decision to end their life. One of it is bridges and jumping (if you don't know what Bridge of Life is, ask me and I'll share, so this post wouldn't become too long) but another one is sea.

My interpretation - Koreans wear black suits to funerals, so if someone is headed to the sea in a black suit, it might mean this is the character's attempt to "have" their own funeral before finally ending their life. Why do I think this combination is somehow significant?

Because I remembered a music video one of K-pop artists I like (Kim Hanbin) made, after he experienced the downfall of career, extreme hate and rejection from the public, and severe depression. His whole album Waterfall tells Hanbin's personal story, dark thoughts and his battle to survive during the time when he was gone for 2 years, but in the music video for this album (illa illa) he is seen emerging from the sea in a black suit – metaphorically regaining his music and, most importantly, desire to live. Watch with lyrics!

If we think, this is how you depict suicidal thoughts/attempt in Korean media (of course, Love for Love's Sake was even more blunt in telling us the meaning), then Myungha wearing black suit wasn't just for the pretty or dramatic picture. More than that, we see him wearing the black suit for the whole last evening – especially when he goes to finally meet his mother.

Which tells us Myungha has already decided to disappear from this world, and was determined to do it on that day, and his mother rejecting him and pretending she doesn't know her son might not have been just the last straw... but it definitely could've been Myungha's last attempt to find anything in his life worth staying for, worth not going through with his plan.

Anyway, what a scary but beautiful symbolism.

Let's talk about something happier! More heartwarming!

Do you remember when we talked about the carefully placed movie posters in previous episodes? I payed more attention to the background this time when in Episode 8 Yeowoon ran to the cinema searching for Myungha in his world. And what an amazing discovery! When Myungha starts existing again and calls Yeowoon, the movie poster behind Yeowoon says "Guardian" (보호자).

And I already said in another post that Myungha in previous episodes admitted himself being Yeowoon's "guardian, protector" in the exact same word. But now this word is shown next to Yeowoon! As Yeowoon is the one who changed the main mission and has now declared himself Myungha's guardian and protector and will do his best to make him (his favourite pereson/bias/blorbo) happy. They have now both become guardians for each other. This. Goddamn. Show.

And I also want to shout out the VFX & Production team for this show – all the visual effects are very down to earth, gentle and not over the top but enhancing the series to the max. Like, maybe you wondered where on the screen does it say "Monday, August 14" and "Saturday, August 12"? Well, as expected, you see it on four monitor screens above the box office – the date, the ongoing movies (yep, still our favourite two fake movies) and available dates etc.

But when Yeowoon and Myungha agree to meet each other in the exact system time, they are facing each other without a barrier, and the screens are now counting down the time until the Game End. Instead of normally showing movies, like in the previous shot, it says "Time remaining: 3 hours, 23 minutes, 15 seconds". It was either done with VFX or practically, but still, the thought of incorporating system messages into the actual background is insane and I'm always happy to discover such details.

I don't know how many of you have motivational stairs at your schools, we definitely didn't have this but it's quite a popular thing in Korea. They put popular and uplifting sayings for students on each stair, sometimes they even quote motivational phrases from idols, like this:

And it's interesting that when system gets broken and Myungha is about to disappear, we see the deep cracks coming through the stairs, we see ruined school BUT at the same time the quotes in the show are so obviously in our focus. And they are already written (see screenshots above) in Korean and English, but I'll still write down: one is saying "Stay hungry, stay foolish" and "If you dream it, you can do it, you will succeed". So, perhaps... motivational quotes from sunbae?

And the last moment isn't heavy on translation but I still want to talk about it because cool Korean culture!xD You see the gang grilling meat on the roof (it's called samgyeopsal and it's very popular to have for gatherings), and then Myungha makes a "ssam" and feeds it to Yeowoon – but Sangwon steals it.

Ssam is a wrap, you grill meat then put it on the salad leaf, add other ingredients (like mushrooms, sauces, garlic, green onions etc, there are many side dishes) and then you wrap it in this sort of salad sack and eat it. It's very tasty and unusual combination. But the thing is! There is no way to make it for someone else and leave it on their plate so if you make a ssam wrap for someone and want to give it to a person, you literally have to feed them (like Myungha does with a very fond smile). This is why it's often seen as a romantic gesture (aka feeding someone from your fork etc) and why it's hilarious that Sangwon steals this ssam from Yeowoon (because he wants and he gets Myungha's affection and he's not above being a brat about it!)

I'm sure you can already sense it anyway without me telling you about romantic/close-friend implications, but I thought you guys might wonder why are the guys fighting over the salad leaf.

Another funny thing – Sangwon mentions "There's a saying, 'Don't scold dogs while they eat'". This is a Korean proverb "밥 먹을 때는 개도 안 때린다" ("You don't hit even a dog when it eats") which means that, no matter how annoying you find someone, no matter how angry you are, you can't scold this person while they are eating. Eating is a very important cultural thing in Asia, of course, so do not have arguments at the dinner :D But it's funny how Sangwon uses old proverbs to be mischievous and steal Myungha's love without consequences xD I adore him

I swear, this gotta be my last post about all the details in Love for Love's Sake. There is one more scene with the mirror and a caption, and I'm very curious if it means something because it was seen twice, during system breaking down scene as well, but it's either in Chinese or Japanese and I can't read it.

Anyway! Hope you enjoyed your everyday magazine, I love reading all your tags and thoughts and comments, and if you want to read all my previous translations and pointed out cultural details in Love for Love's Sake, go read this tag!=)

[the-archetype-of-civilization]

More little things I noticed in my third rewatch of ATSV.

-SPOILERS AHEAD-

There was a moment that confused me where Spot was robbing the guy of the ATM and he was setting down some cans for (seemingly) no reason. He was actually placing the ATM on top of the cans so he can roll it out.

I can't confirm if this is what was actually there, but when Uncle Aaron was telling Miles they "gotta roll," there was an acrylic stand of Spider-Man there that looked like Miles Morales Spider-Man (color and all).

When Miles was swinging through 42 NYC, there was an advertisement for "Vulture" something, I'm assuming a company. Messed up.

When Miguel first introduces himself by ramming into Vulture, Gwen gets to the spot and does this really slick landing animation where she kinda just gracefully brushes against the bannister briefly before landing on the ground.

42 Rio being given more hours at the hospital shows just how bad 42 New York has gotten without a Spider-Man. Terrifying.

I think I may have pointed this out on a previous post, but 1610 Uncle Aaron had a lucky black cat while 42 Uncle Aaron had a lucky white cat instead. I also like the parallels of Peter being tied up against a punching bag by Miles in ITSV while Miles is tied up by Uncle Aaron in ATSV.

I find it hilarious that Miles STILL doesn't know about ComicCon and didn't bother to look it up since ITSV when 42 Rio brings up "ComicsCon."

When Hobie is blocking off Miles from walking through to Miguel and Miles bumps into him, there's a tiny skull that appears when they make contact. It might just be a punk thing, but I wonder if it's an omen for the bad thing that's ahead of Miles.

Lego Spider-Man's vocalized "boop boop"s killed me.

I love the reveal when Miles realizes he's in the wrong universe, the camera pulls into his face and twists slightly. Obvious but nonetheless cool film styling of "his world is spinning" aside, I love that it feels like a 40's/50's kind of thing. Like this is something that you would see in The Twilight Zone, it nails the old comic book-y vibes too.

42 Miles' facial posture has his head up high and his chin slightly jutting out and up, like he's this "in-charge," cold, dignified superior while our Miles has his chin straight, sometimes pointed down and his head straight, showing he's trying to appeal to his humanity and trying to be humble and unassuming. It's awesome details like this that I love.

Hearing Spot say that he couldn't get a job because of what happened to him at that deli really hurts, honestly. Even if, in a way, he himself is partially to blame, it sucks that he has to resort to this. And the way he says it, almost in a "well, I can't do anything else so this is the only thing I can do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" kind of way is really saddening, like he's trying to take it in stride and as a matter of fact. As awful as Spot becomes, I still feel bad for him.

Miles has a "#BLM" pin on his backpack. I'm sure people saw it already and it's probably a given, but in a world where media is trying to appeal to as wide of an audience as possible, it's nice to see the studio make a clear stance with a character that absolutely fits the bill.

That title drop for Earth 42 when Uncle Aaron tries to dab up Miles going into slow-mo with the music subdued was dope as fuck.

Miles throwing his arms up when asking when his dad dies ("When does it happen?!") is so on-point and well animated, it feels like something every New Yorker would do (I would personally know, since I am one).

When Gwen asks Jess if she ever made mistakes, Jess' reply, saying "yeah, but I got over it," is pretty toxic. It feeds into Gwen's need to avoid her problems rather than address them and face them, and I think that's why she probably chooses to avoid discussing things about Miles to him directly.

That look of disgust on Miles' face when he's being surrounded by Spider-People ("What is this? Some kind of intervention or something?") was so real.

The long silence between Miles choosing to go into the portal to follow Gwen is so good, I love when the movie speaks for itself rather than the dialogue. You can see the hesitation in Miles' eyes and face and then his determination as he jumps headfirst into the portal. A great character scene and fitting transition into the next act.

The album cover for the soundtrack is so good and comes from the scene where Miles goes into the portal. It feels like a mix of something from a Golden Age comic book cover, Miles' hand opened out towards the camera like he's being thrust into another world. And the colors of the portal and transition to Mumbattan are gorgeous. Fills the 40's/50's vibes I was talking about earlier, too.

Jeff's toast is really well done and I like how heartfelt and real it feels. Makes his anger, unfortunately, justified on Miles, even if Miles was trying to do the right thing for him and Rio in the end.

"I was just cool the whole time" is such a boss line, I love Hobie.

Miguel casually (almost lazily) swinging around rescuing civilians at the Guggenheim whilst talking to Gwen about a serious conversation is unironically cool. And it fits to his character, he's probably done it so many times that it becomes child's play in the end.

"I ain't got Scooby-Doo, mate."

How does Hobie know that Miles should use his palms for those powers? Curious.

"But now...I'm not afraid of anything." I love Miles so much, he's grown and become so strong not just for himself but for others. He's the best Spidey. Full stop.

I love the reversal of reflections for Gwen. At the beginning of the movie, she's in her casual wear but with the reflections always showing her in her Spider outfit. At the end, she comes home in her Spider outfit but with herself in her casual wear in the reflection instead. She started off alone in the world as Spider-Woman and ended feeling like Gwen. Her arc was completed and she's facing herself, the real Gwen Stacy and not Spider-Woman.

I felt bad that the deli clerk got bonked by the bat :( But, at least he's all right.

Miles saying "Don't do that" to the kid licking the subway window is real. That shit is nasty, the windows are the least clean parts of NYC's subway.

I love that both Gwen and Miles use comically deep voices around their respective dads. It's cute.

When the police officer was saying "I think we found our sign" when Gwen webbed them up, George's silent head turn with unamusement was awesome.

I will not have anymore George Stacy slander. Yeah, he made a bad call in seemingly arresting his daughter, but he QUIT his job for her. He loves her that much that he quit being, not just a police officer, but a CAPTAIN, for HER sake.

Speaking of which, when George had his gun pointed at her before she unmasked, he had his gun down the whole time after she unmasked, even while he was re-relaying her her rights. And when she tries to approach him, his gun flinches up a bit but stops.

"Can you go easy on the penguin?"

This is actually a follow-up post, since I said before that I might make another. This movie is too much for me and I love taking it apart.

Edit: I'm sorry for the constant updates and changes/revisions, but I can't stop thinking about this movie.

[j0die101]

I love how Illya and Napoleon just seem to take turns saving each other's lives. And also, how they would have kept ending up dead if not for the moment of "I hate this dude but guess I gotta save him, only for the sake of the mission of course" when they saved the other one before. Especially at the beginning of the movie.

See under the cut for a very detailed list 😅😅

~Illya holds onto the car Napoleon and Gabby try to escape in~ Napoleon could have very easily killed him right there, clear shot, no distance at all, but somehow it just doesn't seem fair (N "saves" I)

~ Public bathroom scene: Illya refrains from suffocating Napoleon after his boss tells him to let go.~ kinda not sure whether that counts. Saving his life by not killing him (?), guess he could've just ignored his handler and go all in. I'll let it count. (I "saves" N)

~ breaking into the satellite facility part 1: almost getting caught because Illya is too slow to pick the lock -> Napoleon picking the lock for them (N saves I, or well saves them both)

~ breaking into the satellite facility part 2: Illya figuring out a way to escape when everything goes to shit. (I saves N, or well also saves them both)

~ The best, funniest and most epic scene in the entire movie if you ask me: the harbour and Napoleon's little truck-picnick~ now see I really love this scene because it is incredibly comedic while being incredibly dramatic and angsty and a major turning point in the story. They're being chased - they're out in the harbour on a boat - all escape ways blocked - Napoleon holding on to the top of the boat. They're being shot at - a lot. Illya takes a sharp turn - Napoleon falls off the boat into the water, or does he let go on purpose ?- Illya doesn't notice right away. Turning around a few moments later he only sees the entry holes of the shots, right where Napoleon used to hang on. What conclusion does this lead him to? Surely he must think Napoleon got shot, fell off the boat and is drowning or bleeding out or both somewhere on the water. He is on his own. So he tries to get away, but is fighting a lost fight. Meanwhile, Napoleon swims ashore, finding the picnic basket on the truck and just enjoys a little break, while Iliya is being hunted down.

Now here comes the part, which I consider the major turning point in their partnership. It's a tiny little moment. Almost unnoticeable. Almost.

Illya's boat is now on fire, and it's sinking quite rapidly. The hunt is over. Napoleon starts the engine of the truck. He's about to just drive off, in the chaos no one would suspect their own truck driving out of the harbour. He could just tell their handlers the truth. Iliya was killed by their targets. Get rid of him easily and move on with the mission by himself.

But then, he changes his mind. We can see how his expression changes. He's like "damn, somehow I can't do that. Why do I have to be like this? Why can't I just let him be done with?" Kinda being annoyed by himself really.

And so he turns the truck, drives it into the water, right onto their opponents boat, sinking all of them. Using the headlights to locate Illya. Saving his life by dragging him to the surface and ashore. (N saves I)

~ the chair: Napoleon is trapped, tortured by a nazi psychopath, no way of escaping. He believes Gaby has sold them out. He has no idea whether Illya is even still alive. And yet, somehow there he is, getting him out of a hopeless situation. (Also if anyone is ever shocked by electricity, get them to the hospital immediately!!! Heart failure can happen from this as well a day after as right away. They need to be under medical observation!!! Don't let the media tell you otherwise!!!) (I saves N)

~ the iconic motorcycle scene. Illya is hurt, trapped under his own vehicle after a crash that, lets be honest, should have killed him instantly. Napoleon is trying to save Gaby from the crashed car and is ambushed, about to get shot point blank while on his back on the ground. Yet somehow Illya doesn't just manage to get his motorcycle off of himself, but continues to throw it onto Napoleon's assailant. Guess Iliya's in the lead now (I saves N)

~ And finally: the stand off about the disc. Illya feels betrayed, he is struggling, he doesn't want to kill Napoleon, but needs to finish the mission. He is close to a psychotic episode. There is so much pressure on him, who wouldn't be stressed to their total limit. By now Napoleon knows him, he is excellent in reading people. He would have been able to shoot first. Maybe even resulting into killing Illya. But instead he decides differently and is able to de-escalate the situation. By showing care and kindness (aka surprising Illya with the watch). Thereby he doesn't only save his own life, he probably saves them both. (N saves I, I guess)

~ together they are able to make the only logical decision. A decision that is probably saving millions of lives. They burn the disc. Disobedience against their handlers. A decision based on what is right. Together. (N&I saving loads of people together)

[ceciliadreamson]

I’m bored so here’s goofy headcanons for the Limbus crew (yeah if these seems OOC whoopsie these are based off of vibes and personal preference):

Ishmael is pretty mediocre at cooking, but she’s fine with whatever she gets at this point. Living on a ship for a big chunk of your life and eating whatever seemed edible was worse than she makes anyways

If Don lived in our world, she’d definitely fall in love with a bunch of Shonen jump animes like MHA and JJK. She seems to prefer when it’s a lighthearted anime and the protagonist is slowly becomes the strongest in their world. Don probably doesn’t mind if it gets a little gory or heavy with the topic, though. She’d probably get super pumped and root for her favorite hero

Definitely not a HC but Sinclair looks like an egg. It’d be funny if someone from the limbus crew pointed at a tiny egg they found and was like “yeah that’s you”

Back again with “if Don lived in our world!” But yeah if she was in our world, she’d definitely see her own cosplays and probably con crunches to get every single detail accurate to the original

Gregor seems like a cantaloupe person to me idk why. It might be because I like cantaloupe and had one yesterday. I was also gonna say apples for the irony, but at this point that might bring back too many memories for him;;;

Not a HC, but where do the sinners sleep in their rooms??? Their base egos are supposed to be their bedrooms, but each bedroom looks terrible to sleep in (except for Don). Especially Ishmael cause she’s practically drowning in water if she has a bad dream (according to online the way your room appears are based on your mental state I believe?)

Outis and Gregor being light sleepers due to being war veterans and having to be on high alert all the time back in the day

Ishmael occasionally braids her hair since they get in the way and sometimes it’s too hot outside that it has to be styled

This is mainly for self indulgence purposes but Outis liking having her hair stroked when it’s just her and her partner seems right to me. It’s calming and the only time she could drop her guard. She’ll also return the favor btw! It only seems fair since her lover did it for her (an excuse to run her fingers through their hair / pet their head since it’s relaxing)

Crossover idea but Ryoshu meeting Yosano (BSD) would be pretty interesting! A person who finds death to be an art itself and the person who heals people by bringing them near death. Maybe Ryoshu would think that Yosano’s ability is a beautiful kind of art and they’ll bond over the topic or something idk haha

A fancy tea party with cakes, fancy outfits, and glitter with Meursault and Don sounds fun! Yeah that’s the post. I just think it’d be cool to see them chatting about random things like fixers or media they’re into while sipping tea

Yeah that’s practically it cause I need to sleep hahshajka

[hollycircling]

would you consider dropping some tips on how you color? your art always has such a nice feeling to it

Thank you so much, and yes, absolutely! 

So... I have been agonizing over how to answer this question for over a week because I tend to make a lot of my major decisions based on what looks and feels good to me in the moment. It’s sort of hard to explain. Then I started getting philosophical with it (“how does one color? How do I explain aesthetic?”), and I started rambling, and had to cut the answer way, way, way down lol.

But here’s what I can help with right now. I think the most important part of how I color is my tools and what they allow me to do. These are currently my favorite brushes to use: 

From top to bottom, I use Kyle T’s Gouache for just about everything. A lot of my recent pieces are done entirely in that– I love the chunky texture and how the pressure mimics traditional gouache. It’s great for children’s book illustrations, and filling linework, and realistic portraits. She is my soft wife and I love her. 

I practically never use the default hard round. Ignore that. 

The roller brush is another one I use for painting. It was my go-to before KT’s gouache, so you’ll find it a lot in my older work (and as a big texture thing in my current works). The “Sampled Tip” below that one I usually use for children’s book styled illustrations. It’s like a really dense, waxy crayon, so it’s fun for textured lines and details.

I always paint in my own shadows and highlights, but I like to use the soft round if I want to blow the shadow or highlight out. It’s for extra large areas.

And finally my pencil. I use it for sketching as well as linework, if I plan on doing a linework-centric piece. I don’t think there’s much of a difference between the two there… one is probably smoother than the other. 

______________

The reason why I like textured, pressure-sensitive brushes so much is because they’re important to how I paint. When I blend, I don’t use a blender brush or a smudge tool. What I do is layer two colors– lightly– then use the eyedropper to select the color between them and continue painting with it. That’s probably the key to most of my work. I’ve gotten pretty fast at it, so I’m constantly selecting colors from the painting and reusing it throughout my painting. 

I still use the color-wheel to hand-pick what I think will look best, though. This is probably going to be a really frustrating answer, but I choose color palettes based on basic color/lighting theory combined with personal aesthetic preference. It can take some studying (of both theory and other artists’ work). If you’re ever looking for a really great reference on the former subjects, I highly recommend Color and Light by James Gurny. Even if you’re not into watercolor or dinosaurs or realism, the guy is a master at explaining all that different stuff in depth. 

Shape and negative space are also pretty important to me, but that's a whole other thing. And as a side-note, I recommend following more children’s book illustrators. Their work may look simple, but a lot of intention goes into how they use color, shape, space, and texture. 

Also, on texture, I hand-draw most of mine. I love to add little scratches and drops and splashes when the painting is almost over. It's one of my favorite things to do :')

____

Now, the other most important tip:

Once I’m happy with the sketch/linework, and once I’ve laid down the basic colors of my piece, I do a Really Terrible Thing. I become a graphic designer’s worst nightmare and collapse everything onto one layer. 

Then I paint directly on top of it, linework and all.

I do this for a lot of reasons, but mostly because 1) my tiny brain is overwhelmed by the clutter of too many layers, and 2) it forces me to approach a piece as if it was traditional media– a process which I find a lot more comfortable and rewarding. I paint right on top of the base colors, and right on top of the linework, effectively redoing and cleaning up what I already have there. Even if I'm working with a blank background, I'll paint a new blank one on top because it gives the feeling of a more unified piece, if that makes sense.

Basically, I approach my drawings as if I’m using traditional media. I like chunky brushes, utilizing (what I personally think are) interesting color combinations and textures, and smashing everything down onto one page so I can just paint. 

Anyway, please let me know if there’s anything specific you’d like me to go into detail on, any pieces of mine you’d like to know how exactly I went about it, etc etc etc. I’m happy to answer ^^

[sommerflue-22]

Little Things They Do... (Pt. 2)

Little things they do to show you they love you

Read the other parts: Part 1 // Part 3

Featuring: Hange Zoe, Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Onyankopon, Yelena, Nicolo

Warning: Modern setting, gn!Hange

Word Count: 650

Author Note

Hi, this is another version of "Little Things They Do"! I've linked the first part above for you to read. Here is the song I listened to while writing this. These actions can be perceived platonically or romantically, whatever suits you. Let me know if you want me to write for other characters as well!

Hange

Not everyone can appreciate Hange the way they are, so enthusiastic in certain subjects to the point where they can explain stuff that can't be found in Wikipedia. Having you around them, someone who appreciates them and supports them in whatever they do, is something that Hange never takes for granted. Whenever you both are having a conversation, Hange likes to drop a few 'fun facts' or trivial knowledges they've attained in their free time. They make it sound amusing as well, like that one line from a Philomena Cunk episode "The Egyptians believed that the most important thing you could do in your life was die."

Erwin

Erwin most likely pays close attention to small details such as how your necktie is crooked, or a tiny splatter of ketchup in your cheek after you ate your food. He will fix it for you every time. Expect him to stop you from rushing somewhere when you're already late, just for him to fix your hair a little bit. Also the constant reminder for you to tie your shoes because somehow they're always undone. He's just afraid that you'll trip over your own feet. It's not like you're that clumsy and untidy, he just cares about you a lot.

Levi

Levi is the cleanest and tidiest person you've ever met in your entire life, but he just lets you do things that usually irks him out. Whenever you come over to his place, he'll let you leave your dirty plate or cup in the sink. He'll wash it for you. He let you touch his TV remote even though your fingers are greasy from your snack. He'll wipe it later. He let you work/do your assignments in his living room, your papers and miscellaneous stuff scattered around the place. He'll help you pick them up later. It's his way to repay your kindness because amongst his closest circle, you deal with his sad and gloomy side the most.

Onyankopon

Onyankopon will happily help you take aesthetic pictures for your social media, anytime, anywhere, even if it's really crowded. He'll go crouching down, tilting his body, all out to get the best pictures. He knows how to change the setting, the ISO and all, of both digital cameras and smartphones. He will tell you where to stand and which way to face, working with the light to complement your figure. He takes it seriously. It's rare to find someone who is willing to take pictures for you, let alone one who is really good at it.

Yelena

Most of the time Yelena is calm and composed, which is why she kind of insisted in speaking on your behalf. No matter if you both are in a restaurant, in a bar, or at the dentist, she will speak for you. She just noticed a long time ago how you often have a hard time explaining things, something that is really easy for her to do. At first she said it's because you take too long when ordering food, or your voice was shaking as you talk to strangers it bothers her. However, as the time goes by, you realize it's her way to take care of you. You don't have to worry when you're out with Yelena, she will handle everything.

Nicolo

You and Nicolo eat together, like, almost in every chance you both get. Be it a fancy dinner, or snacking together while watching a movie at home, you both love to share your food. For some reason, whenever you have to open a packaging, Nicolo will grab it and open it for you. Once he teared the packaging open, he'll give it back to you. Nicolo is also a big "do you wanna try my food" guy. He will cut half of his steak and move it to your plate. He will break a KitKat in two and share a half of it with you.

I've never written anything about Onyankopon, Yelena, and Nicolo but apparently it was fun. I think I have a crush on Yelena now idk. I hope you like it as well! Lemme know what you think :3

[bigfrozenfan]

HAPPY 10 YEARS ANNIVERSARY to FROZEN

I made another edit too and you can decide which you like more.

How it all began for me...

"Addicted to Frozen", that's the subtitle of my Tumblr blog since I created it in February 2019 and thus joined the international fandom for the first time. However, it took me a while to decide to do this, mainly because of the language barrier. In the end, the first teaser trailer for Frozen II was the deciding factor.

However, my addiction to the Frozen franchise started earlier, but only on Christmas Eve 2016, when I was visiting my sister and I was supposed to choose the films for the evening while she cooked dinner for us.

I can still remember, as if it was only yesterday, zapping around on the tiny TV and getting stuck on the first scene with the ice harvesters from Frozen. Something had almost magically drawn me in and when the story with the two little sisters Anna and Elsa developed further and she sang "Do you wanna build a snowman?", I was in love with the film. Since then, not a single day has gone by without me thinking about the movie, first buying the DVD and then a lot of posters. I was on Pinterest every day and also searched for fan art there. At this time, I also started collecting merchandise for the movie and have now built up one of the biggest collections. In 2018, a picture came into circulation that I later searched for everywhere and tried to find out the source. It showed Anna and Elsa in a previously unknown new outfit in a forest.

A few months later, the bombshell dropped with the release of the teaser trailer for Frozen II. The hype was born and it was simply indescribable what was happening on Tumblr. There were so many posts every minute that I couldn't keep up with it all. There was wild speculation and I published my very first two posts on Tumblr with the title "The Disney FROZEN II Teaser Trailer Mania". Ever since that trailer, I was absolutely hooked on Frozen! I couldn't help myself.

After that, I reblogged for all I was worth, created my first edits and started writing my first fanfic. However, as a novice writer, I was still too clueless and made a lot of mistakes (this only changed with the second fanfic, years later). Over time, I got to know a lot of fans, signed up on other social media platforms and my love for the Frozen movies remains unbroken to this day.

I hope this hype starts again with Frozen III and IV, because I really miss those times in fandom.

Here are some brand new pics of my collection including all the Frozen II stuff:

In daylight...

...and at night...

If you want to see more details i can make an additional post. Just let me know.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

The feeling when your brain latches on wanting whump of That One Specific Character to the point that you find yourself scrambling for paper-thin excuses for certain injuries that are either canon or that should logically be canon even if they're not actually said to be there, to stick around long enough to scar and/or to never heal quite right.... even though the setting is a commercial D&D campaign setting where clerics, and therefore nice and neat healing magic that should just get the job done without any risk of it going wrong or anything, are of course generally speaking pretty readily available...

literally i'm just over here putting clown make-up on going oh but what if he's being a stubborn asshole about it and not letting himself be healed to prove a point, hey what if once an injury is older than like 24 hours there's a chance that even with the help of magic it might steal heal a bit wrong? like literally not even slightly how it's supposed to work but i'm just scrambling and digging for whump where i know there isn't any anyway

not just in a D&D setting where any type of injuries or illness could canonically be healed by magic, this is one of the things that bother me when it comes to whump in media — because it also happens in a setting that is supposed to be realistic or, even if it’s not in a setting where everything is supposed to be realistic, it still does happen a lot in a movie / tv show in which healing magic is not available.

don’t get me wrong, I love my blorbo. but let’s be real, we all want to see that little guy suffer.

so it annoys me to see a character in a movie/tv show (or a book or literally any type of media) simply “walk it off” after an injury that is supposed to have them bedridden for at least a week or two. or to see them appear without a scar after sustaining an injury that would’ve left a nasty scar in real life.

I know it’s all fiction and most people probably don’t care about these “tiny details” but yeah, these “tiny details” are what make us members of the whump community foam at the mouths (in a good way), and there actually are still a lot of people who are into whump, even if they don’t openly talk or post about it online.

that’s why several of my fics are about these “missing scenes” where my blorbo actually goes through a long road towards recovery after their canonical injuries, or suffers from PTSD where they have a hard time looking at their scar, etc.

also shout out to all the fanfic writers out there who dedicate their time and energy into writing fics about these missing scenes. y’all are the backbones of your fandoms.

[tomblythismyhusband]

Tom blyth Watching reader!y/n new movie with her (probably scream 6)

premiere [tom blyth x fem!actress!reader]

[summary]: tom blyth x fem!actress!reader | Your boyfriend, Tom, surprises you at the premiere for your new movie, Scream 6.

[warnings]: language, just fluff :)

[wc]: 1k

[note]: lil blurb; ty for the request lovely <333

Anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you stepped out of your limo and into the blinding lights of the paparazzi. People screamed your name as you gave the crowds a tiny wave.

Today was the premiere for your new movie, Scream 6. With you being the lead, tonight was a huge deal, especially for a new upcoming actress like yourself. It felt like the world’s eyes were all on you. You adjusted the black gloves you wore nervously, finding comfort at the feeling of the silk against your skin.

You wore a massive cream colored gown that also had diamond detailing around the low neckline that showed off your cleavage. It was off the shoulder as-well, displaying your figure even more. Despite the nerves you felt beautiful.

You smiled at the paparazzi and waved. The red carpet was loud with the hustle and bustle of questions and comments. A reporter stuck her microphone out to you, motioning you to come over. You took a deep breath. You had prepared for this. Don’t be nervous.

“Well Y/n! Don’t you look absolutely ravishing tonight!” The reporter smiled, glancing at the camera pointed towards you both. You swished your dress and gave a light laugh, aware that what you were saying was being recorded live.

“Why thank you.. it’s custom Chanel. I’m so honored to be wearing it.” You said proudly motioning towards the intricate diamond detailings on your corset. The reporter nodded excitedly.

“Well you look stunning. Your definitely the most beautiful woman here tonight.. I’m sure the men are lining up to talk to you.” You ignored that comment, not letting how much you disliked it show on your face.

The reporter dropped her voice to a lower octave. “Speaking of men…. we’ve heard a rumor…” You held your breath. You knew this was coming. The reporter continued on. “We’ve got some inside sources that have told us that you’ve been seen out with The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes’ star, Tom Blyth.” The reporter inched closer, bubbling over with curiosity.

She shoved the microphone into your face. “Are you and him in a relationship? The people are dying to know.” You felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

Tom and you had been trying to become more open about your relationship. It started one night when you and him both said “fuck it” and decided to just live like a normal couple. The hiding was exhausting and not seeing each other for more than a week was torture. The only problem was that you were not a normal couple. You were both very present in the media, so it was no surprise that word spread like wildfire.

“Well- yes. We’re still trying to keep things private so…“

The reporter spun toward the camera and cut you off excitedly. “You heard it here folks! Y/n and Tom Blyth. Hot new power couple of the year for sure!”

Before you could get another word in, the reporter left. Rude.

You shrugged it off and continued your walk down the red carpet, smiling, waving and posing. The flash of the cameras was still something you were getting used to, it was thrilling.

You were so focused on making the right facial expressions and movements, that you didn’t notice the man hooking his arm around your waist as you posed for a photo.

You gasped at the contact and turned your head to see Tom, impeccably dressed, smiling down at you.

“Tom!” You gaped, not believing that he was standing here next to you. The interaction caused the paparazzi to go crazy, loving every second.

Tom leaned in a bit, dropping his voice to a low tone. “You didn’t think I would miss your first premiere, did you love?” He chuckled, squeezing your hip.

You smiled up at him, your heart pounding with love at the gesture. He had come all this way, gotten dressed up, and attended the premiere- for you.

You put you hand over your heart, this caused the paparazzi to click faster. They obviously saw that you were both exchanging loving words at the moment.

“Thank you Tom- I was so nervous but I feel better now that your here..” You beamed. Tom smiled softly down at you.

“I wouldn’t miss your big moment for the world.” He laughed. He then leaned in closer, mischief sparkling in his electric blue eyes.

“Y/n…can I kiss you? Right here. Right now. No matter who’s watching.” He said slowly. Emphasizing the words. He wanted to show the world you were his.

You felt your face burn. Under all the foundation you had on you definitely were blushing. Hard. “Yes. I’d like that.” You whispered.

Then Tom leaned in, kissing you softly, taking you into his arms. The sounds of paparazzi and reporters exploded in a cacophony of sound. You smiled into the kiss as Tom dipped your body in a smooth swoop. At that moment it felt like it was just you and Tom against the world.

When your lips parted from his and he set you standing back upright, you only saw him. Everyone else didn’t exist. You only saw those blue eyes staring into yours.

Soon you broke out of your trance when he smiled. This was only the beginning of the night after all. You and Tom were escorted further down the carpet until you were separated to be interviewed by some more reporters. He gave you a supportive smile before disappearing to find his seat in the theater. You answered questions with your co-stars, it was easy when the reporters weren’t asking uncomfortable personal questions.

When the questions were all done it was finally time to view the film you had worked so hard for. You were escorted into the theater and were given your seat number. You immediately noticed that Tom was seated right next to you. Smiling, you approached your seat, plopping down next to him.

“I still can’t believe you came.” You chuckled, shaking your head as you grabbed his hand.

Tom laughed and shrugged. “I wanted to.”

You grinned at him then cocked your head. “Also you're aware that we are going to be even more public now because of that kiss, right?” You laughed.

Tom chuckled and stole a quick kiss on your lips. “Let them watch. As long as I’m with you nothing could bother me.” He smiled softly.

“I love you.” You whispered.

Tom squeezed your hand. “I love you. And I’m so proud of you.”

You kissed him again with a smile as the lights began to dim.. signaling that the movie was about to start. You were so happy you were going to be able to share this experience with your boyfriend.

Nothing could be more perfect.

You felt Tom’s mouth brush against your ear ad he whispered. “By the way.. you look so incredibly sexy in that dress.”

You shoved him playfully. “Behave.” You whispered.

Tom chuckled and squeezed your thigh. Maybe if he was good throughout the movie you’d reward him later. But knowing him, it would be extremely unlikely that he would keep his hands off you, especially now that you’ve gone public.

You laughed to yourself and shook your head at him. He flashed you a lopsided grin.

Yea…. he was definitely not gonna behave.