#like i have to choose if i want to keep my room clean and study for exams or if i want to feel things

[humbleanger]

.

[aakeysmash]

prompt:

sukuna skipping gym to sleep in and later on does his workout in their living room, using her as a weight when doing push ups, may turn heated hehe

college Sukuna's masterlist

turned this into a college!sukuna drabble lmao sorry!! no smut this time, i wanted to elaborate a bit on sukuna's protectivness toward yuuji :)

You're humming a song from your studying playlist when you hear someone knocking at your door. You look at the clock you keep on your desk near a plant Yuuji gifted you last week. On the terracotta vase there's a scribbled note in the obvious handwriting of a child.

To: baby peach, but no more annoying screams when we play, please!

You smile. He always chooses to be baby mario when you play Mario Kart together because he doesn't want you to feel alone in case you're the only baby character. He's such a cute kid, you're lucky to have him as one of your almost-roommates.

You get up (it's still pretty early anyway) and stretch your back, hearing it pop. You open the door, and standing in front of it is the same kid you were thinking about.

"Hey," you wave at him, a happy tilt to your voice. You look at him shuffling and avoiding your gaze.

"Is everything okay, Yuuji?" you start getting worried. He mumbles something you don't hear clearly, so you make him repeat himself. He juts his lip out, then looks straight at your face.

"Can you take me to school please?"

You raise your eyebrows. Usually, this is a big brother kind of duty: where is Sukuna? Yuuji takes your silence as rejection and starts backtracking.

"Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you, I can just go alone-"

"Sure, let me grab my purse and we can go," you stop him, changing your expression to one of calmness, ruffling his pink, unruly hair.

"Are you sure it's not a bother?" he asks you hesitantly. "Big bro closed his door and I can't seem to be able to wake him up... and I'm supposed to be accompanied by an adult..."

"It's not a big deal, Yuuji. I'll take you in my passenger seat, okay? We'll be there shortly," you reassure him, nodding.

"Thanks," he says, blushing, giving you one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen him do. Your heart melts a little, and he looks at you like you've physically hung up the sun shining outside.

When you get back home, you're not even able to get to your room when you find yourself being squished between the nearest wall and a hot, rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Where the fuck is my brother?" Sukuna grits out his teeth, breathing down your neck. You wince. He's controlling his strength, but he's still a mountain compared to you, and your ribcage is starting to hurt.

"Get off of me right now or I'm calling the police, Itadori."

He notices he must have been too rough and takes a step back, mumbling an apology while still looking at you menacingly. You pat your clothes, making sure there are no wrinkles before answering him.

"I took him to school. He told me he was being neglected by his own caretaker, so I had to intervene," you shrug.

"He did not say that. He doesn't even know the word neglect," he says, sighing. His shoulders drop and he takes on a more relaxed appearance.

"What's wrong with you? You've never gotten up later than 6 am," you ask him, trying to sound nonchalant, walking toward your fridge to make yourself a toast. The truth is, you're starting to get attached to him. In the last couple of months, you've created some sort of bond, and it's probably also thanks to Yuuji and his stubbornness in making you do things like you're a family. Just last night, he forced you both to make cookies with him because apparently his friend Megumi was coming to play this afternoon and "he wanted to make a good impression".

Sukuna, on the other hand, can be a lot. The majority of the time he nudges you to get you to move out of his way (he just does it to see your annoyed face, but he's not going to tell you that), huffs in your face when you say he hasn't cleaned his dishes from the night before, and flips you off whenever you try to have a civil conversation about who's turn it is to choose the film on Friday night. But he's also pretty attentive. It's not like he makes you notice it, but he does feel bad for you when you get out of your room after an all nighter because of your studies. He thinks you're annoying because you're always trying to pry into his private life, but when you're not home Yuuji always asks of your whereabouts. Yeah, that's definitely why he can't stop thinking about you laughing with the boy he literally raised. The boy whose disappearance was driving him insane this morning.

Because sure, Sukuna tells Yuuji he's a brat 95% of the time, and the kid yaps way too much for his taste. He also manhandles the kid badly, telling him he's way too weak to be called his brother, and more often than not Sukuna tells him he's adopted and that he'll kick him out as soon as he can. But you've seen the way he prepared soup every night when his little brother caught the flu in December—he's just full of shit. He'll never admit how hard it was to raise a brother he didn't want at 13, alone and broke. But he'll make sure the child never doubts of having someone to fall back into like Sukuna did since he was much younger than Yuuji is now.

"Didn't sleep well and I missed the gym," he responds, munching on an apple. You hum in acknowledgment, not turning around from the stove.

"You know that pilates class you suggested to me last week? I found their videos on YouTube. I was thinking of starting them today," you quickly change the topic. You know you won't get more than that; him admitting he didn't sleep well was already a win.

"Wanna start them with me, chipmunk?" he asks you. You turn around to slap his arm slightly.

"I told you to stop calling me that," you say rolling your eyes.

"No."

You whine. "Yes, by the way. I want to see you suffer like the men I see on TikTok."

"Come be my weight and I'll do pilates with you today," he suddenly says. You're biting your toast and you're so caught off guard that you start coughing up crumbles. He hands you a glass of water while telling you you're too fucking dramatic.

"What does it mean to be your weight?" you tentatively ask him when you can breathe properly again.

That's how you find yourself sitting crisscrossed on his back, gripping his shirt as hard as you can, while he does pushups and tries not to laugh every time you scream about him moving too much and almost making you fall.

[being-addie]

Healthy habits I'm developing for 2023

It's already April and I'm still in that rut of sleeping at 2am, buying a quick fix of candy at the store when I have fruit at home, eating too many carbs and skipping the gym. Now, I'm getting my shit together.

It's easy to disguise bad habits with excuses. "Oh, I have exams coming up". "Work's been really draining lately". But if you don't change now, you'll be stuck in that same loop for the rest of your life.

Prioritising health:

Sleeping 7-8 hours every night: To end my absolutely atrocious amount of screen time, I've decided to delete all those distracting apps on my phone. It's hard, but worth it. Now I won't be tempted to scroll on Instagram when I should be sleeping.

Making healthy food choices: Choosing homemade granola over chocolate bars, banana bread over Nutella sandwiches, and homemade nachos over packaged chips makes a huge difference.

Working out: l go to the gym daily, but lately, I've been lazy and slacking off. So I want to start going again along with squeezing in a run in the evening. Finishing at least 8k steps every day. Moving my body in some way, whether it's dance or yoga.

Water: I have a bad habit of forgetting to drink water, even when it's right in front of me. So I've downloaded some water reminders to help me remember to drink. I've also decided to incorporate lemon honey iced tea into my diet because I'm a fiend for it.

Working smart:

Creating a to-do list: Committing to knocking off at least three things on a to-do list and gradually increasing the number of tasks.

Keeping devices away: I've started keeping my phone in my mom's room while I work, or I lock it in my cupboard so I won't get distracted, and I use extensions like WasteNoTime and StayFocusd to block unnecessary websites.

Dividing time: Making a schedule for my day, so I can divide school studies, sketching practice and homework. It is so important to block out parts of the day for morning and night routines and self-care.

Cleansing my life:

A clean workspace: Clean up my desk every day, so I can sit in an uncluttered space, and keep my racing mind calm.

Making my bed: Focusing on making sure my bed is clean first thing in the morning, so I have a place that's clean and warm after a long day.

Deleting social media: It was difficult, but I did it. Fighting the temptation to log in again is real, but I'm slowly coming to realise I don't care what people are posting on their stories, and the FOMO is slowly fading.

Toxic people: Getting rid of toxic friends, and deleting numbers and chats of people are who no longer important in my life. Having access to me is a privilege.

Self-care: Every Sunday, I'm setting aside a few hours for myself. During that time, I'll be having a long shower, deep conditioning my hair, using a scrub and exfoliator, shaving, moisturizing, and eating something nice. I'll be baking something for the rest of the week so I won't resort to junk food for dessert or snacks.

Understanding and knowing what you want in life is the first step to beginning your journey. Don't let others make you feel guilty for putting yourself first. It's your life, and ultimately, it's only you who can change it.

<3

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 17

a/n: thank you to @bahablastplz for editing. check out her writing if you haven't already! she's amazing.

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Chan.

[ read chapter sixteen here ]

Chapter Seventeen: Of Futures & Flights

Lee Know was right—your least favorite string of words in the English language. Hyunjin will be going to Korea for winter break and now your only option is to see what Chan has planned. You knock on the door to his room before entering. He’s sitting at his desk, laptop in front of him. He turns to face you as you enter. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips when he sees you and you immediately feel your face flush. 

“Hey,” you say meekly. 

Lately with just one look from him you’re overcome with flashbacks of being handcuffed to his bed. And he knows it. It hadn’t been awkward or uncomfortable in the days that followed, but he certainly was finding a lot of joy in catching your eye from across the room and winking or smirking. He always got a kick out of your reaction. 

“Hey,” he replies smoothly.

You walk over to your bed and sit on the edge, facing him.

“I wanted to ask about your plan for winter break,” you cut straight to the chase. “Are you going to visit your family?”

“Maybe. Why?” he asks, crossing his hands in front of his chest as he leans back in the chair. “Got a more tempting suggestion?”

Of course, he must already have some idea why you’re here. Lee Know or Hyunjin could have mentioned it. But he wants to hear you ask anyways.

“I want to use the trip I won around that time and Hyunjin is going home, so…”

“So…I’m your backup?”

“N-No,” you stutter. Though you can’t deny how it must come off from his point of view. 

“Hmmm,” he hums, not taking his eyes off you. “Where you planning to go?”

“I was thinking somewhere warm, like Miami. I’ve never been.”

“And you actually want me to go with you?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. “You could take one of the other members.” 

Is he suggesting that you should choose someone else? That he doesn’t want to go with you? He does so damn well at playing serious when he’s messing with you, you can never tell.

“I’d prefer to spend it with you…”

“Since Hyunjin isn’t available?”

“Chan.” you sigh. 

He chuckles at your exasperation and gives up. 

“I’ll go.”

You wish you had something nearby on the bed to hit him with. Internally you’re jumping for joy. 

The next day, you’re in the kitchen with plastic gloves on your hands. Hyunjin’s long body is laying on the marble countertop, feet hanging off the edge, head over the sink with a folded towel under his neck for support. He has hands clasped in the center of his chest. A bottle of black hair dye sits next to the faucet as you work your fingers through his newly darkened locs to rinse it out.

You keep turning your head to the side as you work, trying to fully picture him with dark hair as you’ve only ever seen him as a bleached blonde. The darker strands definitely look more natural on him and enhance his features.

It’s finals week and you’ve decided to take a break from reading to help Hyunjin out. The house has been relatively calm lately as everyone cracks down on studying. Some go at it alone, others pair up to quiz each other. 

“Would your parents really lose their shit if you came home with blonde hair?” you ask, turning the water off when the black dye has finally stopped dripping.

“Yeah ,” he replies. “And that’s an understatement. My dad would behead me, then drag my headless body around before letting me show up at company events like that. It’s ‘unprofessional’,” he says, using air quotes.

He jokes about it so casually, but it makes you wonder what their parents are like. It’s so different to the supportive upbringing you had. Well, it is supportive in a way—their parents are doing what they believe is best for their child’s future. It just seems like it doesn’t leave room for them to be themselves once they return home.

You know, from talking to Han, the general idea of what’s expected of them after graduation. You previously assumed, though, that just meant a continued sexual relationship was off the table. After what Lee Know said, you now understand that you are forbidden to have contact with them at all.

As you’ve grown more curious about it, Hyunjin has been rather receptive of your prying questions. When you asked why he was so open, he mentioned the NDA in that cursed contract you skim read through in desperation all those weeks ago.

“So do you immediately start working after you graduate?” you ask, taking off the plastic gloves and setting them aside.

“Not straight away. There will be a few months spent doing whatever I want…traveling, probably. Then I’ll work directly under my father. Essentially until he’s ready to retire or trusts that I won’t fuck up the family business.”

This feels like such a heavy topic, but Hyunjin grazes over it with ease. Like it’s not a big deal. From his perspective, maybe it isn’t. He’s known the path his life would take since he was very young. They all do. There isn’t much to guess or worry about like most of us. Hell, it doesn’t seem like they get to choose much of anything for themselves. Your thoughts drift to Chan for a second as you wring the water out from Hyunjin’s hair. 

You take the towel from under his head and guide him to sit up so you can dry it.

“And when it comes to love and marriage and children and all that…what sort of freedom do you have?”

Hyunjin makes a face like he’s going to throw up at your words. You roll your eyes and throw one end of the towel at him, so it covers his dramatic face.

“Come upstairs,” you say as you walk out of the kitchen.

When you’re both back in his room, after he stopped to grab his blow dryer, you have him sit in his desk chair. You stand behind him, combing your fingers through his hair.

“So…marriage, love? What’s that look like for you guys?” you ask again.

“At some point I’ll be encouraged to date, then marry. Exclusively from a list of women vetted by my parents,” he tells you.

You chew on your bottom lip; thankful he’s not looking directly at you. From your perspective, it all sounds concerning the more you learn, but you know it’s not your place to speak on it. What is there for you to even say? They’ve probably all already come to terms with it. Would your opinion even matter? In the grand scheme of things, you living with them this year is just a blip on their radar.

“Like an arranged marriage?”

“Kinda,” he says nonchalantly. “I will have some say in it, though.”

You turn on the blow dryer, using it as a distraction to sort through the thoughts arising from the information he provided.

Hyunjin previously mentioned the main function of the SKZ house was to provide them the ability to focus on their studies without allowing love and romance to distract them. Having a dedicated girl each year to meet their needs…to take care of them in more ways than one. It’s almost like this is a trial run for their futures. Though, from the sounds of it, the women vetted by their parents will probably also come from wealthy families and possess the feminine qualities they desire in a daughter-in-law. Certainly no one like you.

You grew up fairly well–your mom and dad played active roles in your upbringing. They were able to dote on you as an only child and you don’t recall ever wanting for much. You weren’t poor, but nowhere near the level of wealth their families have amassed. They supported you with all they had and there was never much fuss or drama. You’ve always been a good kid with your head on straight–focused on your own dreams and goals.

Having gotten to know Hyunjin the past couple of months, you know one day he will make an amazing husband. He’s gentle when needed, thoughtful, caring and extremely empathetic, while still maintaining his masculinity. Which makes him even more attractive. Chan, on the other hand…

You feel a sharp pain in your chest–maybe Chan is holding back with you because he’s saving himself or really only willing to open up to his future wife. That hurts to think about. 

You turn the blow dryer off and sit it on the desk. Hyunjin reaches out for your hand and pulls you around the front of the chair. You sit on his lap, straddling him and cupping his face with your hands.

You take in his new appearance. His blow-dried hair looks full and fluffy, and it’s grown a lot in length, reaching beneath his collar bones. The dark hair looks good on him—it gives meaning to the ‘tall, dark and handsome’ trope.

“What happens if you don’t like anyone on the list?”

“They’ll compile another one,” he shrugs.

“That seems unfair,” you reply. “What if you meet someone organically and fall in love?”

“I could date them,” he says, hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. “But nothing would come of it.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

He considers the question for a beat.

“Not in the way you might think,” he replies.

“Well, I think anyone would be right to be bothered at having so little say in the outcome of their life…”

“I don’t mind that aspect of it. Being on this path ensures I will live a good life,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“What’s your take on it, then?” you ask, making note that he said good life and not happy.

“I’ve never been fond of the ‘forever partner’ idea.”

You lean back a little, sliding your hands down to his shoulders. You’re a little surprised at his words. The kind, caring and doting Hyunjin? Does not believe in soulmates? 

“I have no problem being committed and dedicated to one woman at a time, but…forever?” he asks rhetorically. “I think we’re meant to connect on a deep level with a lot of people at different times in our lives. Do you know how many people there are on this planet? And I’m supposed to find a lifelong match from a list? To meet all my needs, even as they change over time?”

You can completely understand, and have experienced, his commitment and loyalty in the way he immediately opened up to you and was there for you. But maybe this experience has made him grow accustomed to having a new woman in his life every year. 

“New people make things exciting and fresh,” he continues as he slips his thumbs beneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing circles against your skin, “…how you meet, learning about them, being intimate with them.”

You had never taken him for the playboy type. Though the way he’s explaining it doesn’t sound like he will be running around trying to fuck anything that walks. Just that he’d prefer to entertain the idea of a woman without any real commitment for certain stretches of time, for the rest of his life. 

“So you worry you’ll become bored?” you ask. 

“Maybe,” he answers honestly, as always. “I don’t doubt my ability to remain faithful—to be a good dad and husband when the time comes. But I do want to take my time getting there. I’m in no rush. Maybe in 30 years or so.”

You roll your eyes at that.

“I cannot with you,” you say, reaching your hands up to run them through his newly darkened locs. You tug on the strands, and he tilts his head back, shutting his eyes. 

His hands fall from your hips to cup your ass. In one swift move he stands, holding you to him as he walks towards the bed. You rest your forehead against his, and nuzzle his nose.

“Well. I certainly can with you.” He gives your lips a peck with his before tossing you onto the bed. 

You squeal as you land, then start moving backwards on the bed. You can’t help but smile and giggle as he crawls towards you. His dark, fluffy hair falls in front of his eyes and he looks so fucking sexy as he looks down at you.

“Where you going, jagiya?” He asks, straightening his back but still on his knees. He reaches for your leg. “Two weeks without you? We have to make up for the time we’re losing.”

You let out another squeal as he grabs your leg and pulls you towards him. He places his arms on either side of you, caging you in, in the best way possible. You hook your arms around his neck and pull him down towards you. 

After finals are done, it feels like there’s less tension in the house. Everyone’s interacting again versus being huddled up in a corner studying. The house steadily becomes empty as those who are going away for break take their leave. You drop Hyunjin at the airport and try not to think of what it will be like when you have to say goodbye to him for good.

Soon enough, it’s your turn to get dropped off at the airport. Jeongin and Charlotte wave goodbye to you and Chan. They’ll both have the house alone until Jeongin leaves for Korea and you can only imagine what they’ll get up to. You make a mental note to sanitize every communal surface when you get back. 

In the airport, you and Chan barely speak. He has his headphones on and keeps a blank expression plastered to his face. The last couple days his mood seemed to turn sour, and you have no idea what caused it. You have an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach–this is exactly how you did not want to spend the trip.

You busy yourself with checking the destination on your ticket multiple times. With Lee Know in charge of organizing this trip, you couldn’t be sure enough that he hadn’t booked you a flight to Miami, Oklahoma instead of Miami, Florida. 

A few hours later, you and Chan are settled into your business class seats. A few minutes after takeoff, you finally release his hand you’d been clutching for dear life. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, watching him stretch his fingers out. 

He reclines his seat a bit and shifts around to get comfortable. He leans back in the seat and closes his eyes. You lift the window shade and look out at the clouds as you fly through them, trying your best to tame your annoyance. 

You don’t know how long passes, but being an overthinker you’ve gone through several scenarios and outcomes about how this trip could crash and burn if you don’t say something now. You can’t just let his silence go unchecked. You refuse to spend your vacation, that he agreed to come on, this way. You reach over to move his headphones from his right ear. 

“Chan,” you begin, “I haven’t had a real vacation, alone and not with my parents, in almost two years so I’m really looking forward to this, but…”

He’s absentmindedly chewing on his bottom lip as he listens. 

“You’ve been in a shitty mood the last couple days. I want this to be a good trip, I want us to have fun…if you were planning to be miserable, you really didn’t have to come.”

“Planning to be miserable?” He repeats. 

“Your sudden change in attitude?” You shrug. “I would have rather rescheduled the trip, if you were going to be like this. And don’t say like what—you know how you’re treating me.” 

He becomes quiet at your words. You feel proud of yourself for getting them out. There’s no way he doesn’t realize when he’s shutting you out. You look away from him, seeing the stewardess start coming down the aisle with her cart. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I wanna take this trip with you, y/n, I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“You always say that,” you shake your head. 

“That doesn’t mean it’s not true,” he replies. 

You let out a soft sigh. 

“Well, isn’t that what vacations are for?” you ask. “You can travel somewhere far away and leave all the bullshit behind. Forget about school…the future,” you look away from him at that, “you can be someone entirely different when you get to your destination. For a little while, anyway.”

He mulls your words over. 

“Is that what we’re doing?” He pulls his headphones down, so they hang around his neck. 

It certainly hadn’t been your intention, but you spot the sudden playful glint in his eyes and nod your head. You want to smack him. Or yourself. You cannot figure out if it’s him and his bad mood that causes the tension, or you allowing him to sulk in it instead of confronting him about it. 

“And who are we pretending to be?” 

You shrug, “Hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

The stewardess stops next to him with her cart, smiling as she opens the cabinet and produces two champagne flutes. She then fills them up with wine. She hasn’t even asked your drink choice, so you assume she’s preparing it for the pair across the aisle. When she politely reaches over Chan to pull out your tray and sits the drink down, you throw a confused look at him. 

Maybe it’s complimentary…but still, wouldn’t she ask if you wanted it?

“I’m sorry,” you finally speak up. “We didn’t ordered this…could I just get a Sprite?”

“Oh, of course, dear,” she says, but still proceeds to pull out Chan’s tray and sits a drink in front of him too. “These drinks are free to you, on behalf of the flight crew. Congratulations on your engagement–future Mr. and Mrs. Bang.”

You stare and blink, dumbfounded. 

Chan clicks his tongue and mutters something in Korean under his breath. 

“Thank you,” he says with a tight-lipped smile. 

“My pleasure,” she replies. “What else can I get you, sir?”

“Water, please,” he tells her. 

She provides you both a cup filled with ice, and your requested Sprite and water before turning to assist the pair on the other side of the aisle. 

“I’m gonna fucking strangle Lee Know,” you say through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, he’s the first call I’m making when we land,” he concurs. 

The man can’t even be trusted to book flight tickets without some kind of shenanigans attached to it. 

Chan picks up his wine glass and sighs, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. 

“I guess we have our roles,” he says, tilting the rim of his glass towards you. 

You grab your own, but don’t cheers his yet. 

“I don’t know…I was thinking more along the lines of coworkers on a business trip or annoying vloggers or something like that,” you tell him. 

“So you wanna call off the engagement already?” He asks, feigning a hurt look. 

It never ceases to baffle you–how quickly he can go from cold and distant to warm and teasing you. And vice versa. 

“You’re okay with pretending to be my fiancé?” 

He shrugs, “It could be fun. It’ll help take my mind off some things.”

“Really?”

“I’m a committed actor. Very convincing…don’t you remember?”

Of course you remember his stint as Professor Bang. You wouldn’t mind taking a class with him again. But this? Chan pretending to be your fiancé? After your talk with Hyunjin, you know you won’t ever know what it’s like to actually even date him. Let alone fathom marrying him. 

“Okay,” you reply, choosing to indulge. You tap your glass against his before taking a drink. 

You’re so happy that the dark cloud looming over him seems to have dissipated, that it doesn’t even cross your mind how much you might regret this later. Having a sample of this version of Chan? It’s like you’re setting yourself up to get hurt. But you’ll keep telling yourself you’re strong enough to remember it’s not real. That when the time comes to say goodbye to this man, you won’t think about these moments and what could have been. You’ll keep lying to yourself this entire trip.

[ read chapter 18 here ]

a/n: the chan we've been dying to experience is almost here. thank you all so much for your continued support. your feedback, comments, asks, reblogs, etc., ALL your interactions fill my heart with happiness. it encourages me to write more because i don't want to leave you all hanging for too long lol but seriously, tysm!

taglist: i have no idea why it's not letting me tag everyone. i know there's a limit of tags per post but even if i type less than the limit, it's not working :( tagging on hiatus til I can figure it out, i'm sorry.

[ummmlife]

Yandere!Nanami as your boyfriend

now before we start you have to understand that the darkest and twisted part of my heart belongs to this concept of Nanami. This takes place in an alternative universe where Akutami got along with Nanami's original design as a curse user.

this man just had enough with his life as a salaryman and one day he murdered all his coworkers and boss. so this is where his whole personality changed.

Haibara's death, Geto's choosing to be a curse user before him, the higher-ups and their shit, Nanami simply had enough. he stops minding what people could think (since he's basically a crimal with a death sentence on) and surrendered to his most sicking and deepest desires.

now when it comes to you, Nanami met you after his transformation. if he had a partner before, he could have never become a criminal. this Nanami isn't the Nanami we know and love, he's worse, he already killed hundreds of people so why could he be a normal and mentally stable partner?

said that, please beware of:

Warning! ; Yandere!Nanami , nsfw (mdni) , violence and abuse , nc , obsessive and abusive behavior (from Nanami) , physical and psychological abuse , very dark themes , afab reader , evil Nanamin rawr. i swear, this isn't nice at all, so if you're sensitive, please avoid reading

When Nanami saw you walking alone to your home on a cold Thursday night after a long day of work/study, he simply couldn't take his eyes from you. How weird, this is the first time he has this kind of need.

Nanami slowly started to walk behind you, keeping a distance of two blocks as you kept walking.

Finally, when you turned to a very lonely neighborhood to shortcut your way home, he walked faster and held you from behind, making sure to cover your mouth, — "Shh, shh, shh… Don't make a noise, I'm not planning to hurt you".

Even though Nanami is a, now very sadist and evil man, he keeps his gentleness intact… in his own way.

— "Don't you like it? I bought these specially for you, my dear". Nanami kidnapped you, fortunately he hasn't abused you (yet), he just tries to force you to believe that you're in a relationship with him. Now he has bought a new pair of handcuffs, hinged metal handcuffs. He just wants to make sure you don't run away.

He keeps you in a dark room with a single mattress on the floor and a monitor to watch you. If it wasn't because of the context, Nanami could be the most passionate and romantic man that you could ask for, but he's your kidnapper and you are in a situation of life and death.

That one time you decided to talk back to him you got beaten up in a very nasty way. — "I'm sorry, my pet. But you need to understand that my word is the last one and you shouldn't talk back to me". He didn't even bother to clean the blood from your face or the tears of your eyes that day.

Are you into nudism? No? Oh well, you better start being a nudism enthusiast! Nanami could keep you naked, why would you need clothes anyway? He likes to grope your body and kiss you everywhere, especially after a long day of working with Geto (yes, he's with Geto). — "Hmm… Your skin is so soft, my love. Ah! No, no, no, don't try to fight back. You know that I owe you, this little cunt is all mine".

Now here is where things get bad for you. If you thought that Nanami could never want to use you to please his "special needs" you thought wrong. Yes, Nanami could fuck you even without your consent, he's a massive murdered, he doesn't need your permission or pleasure to feel good, in fact, he likes your face of distress and fear when he starts abusing your holds.

— "Hah… That's it…". This man the devil himself when he gets to fuck you, the only lub he needs it's your (forced) cum after he eats you out, and if he doesn't, oh well, I hope you be a masochist. — "Hmm! Are you crying already? Haha, oh dear, I'm just starting here. I'm gonna fuck this tiny cunt until you pass out again".

Of course, all of this is your fault. It's your fault that you're here with him, it's your fault for walking alone at night, it's your fault for being so freaking beautiful for him.

Nanami is terrifying. Even if you get some kind of Stockholm syndrome, you'll live terrified of him.

Let's say that you behave very well for him, accepting every single kind of abuse he has given you and even loving him back. He won't let you leave his apartment, but you now can walk around it and even sleep with him at night. Now you can even wear clothes! Of course, with no underwear underneath, he needs easy access to your pussy after all.

Even seeing you trying to look outside the window enrages him. He can't bear the possibility of another man wanting you, that's why he kidnapped you, after all, to keep you for him and him only. So that time when you attempted to escape and he caught you, he put the handcuffs on your wrist again and locked you in that dark and cold room again, as a punishment. — "You're mine. If you ever try to run away again, I'll beat you to death".

This man has brainwashed your mind after all these months to make you believe that you have no other choice but to be with him. He knows about your family and has threatened you to kill them if you ever leave him.

— "What if for our anniversary I give your womb a baby? Hmm? Couldn't you like it?". He's being serious, he wants a family with you. — "Oh, I know you don't want any children, dear, I know. But you have to understand that it could make me really happy, don't you want your boyfriend to be happy? What kind of girlfriend could you be if you don't make me happy?"

It's not like you could say no. If you decide to oppose he will beat you up and r word you, so be smart and accept to let him breed you.

— "You're so wet tonight, dear… Fuck, so fucking wet for me". With no other option left, you feel how Nanami is stretching your pussy with his (massive cof cof) dick. The best way to conceive a baby is in mating press, so Nanami is on top of you, with his tongue deep inside your mouth for a sloppy kiss as he's pounding all his cum to your uterus. — "Hah, darling! You're taking me so well, you have been milking me for hours now. Haha! I'm not done yet, I'm gonna get you pregnant tonight". His determination is kinda scary at his point, he's getting you and himself more than overstimulating as he cums for the 3rd time tonight. — "You're gonna look so lovely carrying my baby in your belly. Mhm, just thinking about it makes me hard again".

Getting pregnant or not, you now have to accept your new life. Any concept of freedom or a happy life has been already erased from your mind, now you can only try to bear with your new reality.

Yandere!Nanami is this sickeningly and abusive man. The one who privated you of your freedom, starves you from time to time, isolated you, abused you and forced you to make a family with him. You were so damn pretty that night when he found you, he couldn't just lose his opportunity, and only hell knows how happy he is to have found you.

good that our Nanami isn't like this at all, right? i'll write something sane and lovely about my man another day ‹𝟹

[sunflowersunite]

What are your headcanons for levihan if Hange had survived?

thank you SO MUCH @quillsandblades, I love those sorts of questions

firstly, after they've calmed down from the war and the Rumbling, Hange wants to travel. She wants to see all sorts of sights, learn everything, see everything. Levi follows, inevitably. He's always had her back (he's always been her left eye), so now he goes with her. it's natural to follow her by now.

they don't speak about their feelings immediately. They rushed to confess when the world was ending, and now that it's not, something keeps them from doing it. They've held off for so long that they don't know how to let go of their reluctance. Armin and the others roll their eyes, but wave goodbye at them at the airport.

it's all right, though, because they get to travel together, and start a whole another life.

Hange sees all sorts of devices, ancient or not. She goes to museums, sees human history unfolding before her. Artworks, statues, declarations of war, peace treaties, rusty machines and legendary monuments.

Levi watches her and smiles. He sees the old Hange again, the one without the weight of the Wings of Freedom.

Levi starts to look younger without the stress lines. He smiles a bit more. Hange smiles a lot, and she returns to her old self gradually. They're both so proud of each other (which means extra teasing)

She tries weird spicy food, while he sticks to the beverages. She wants to make him eat, because "you can't know you don't like it if you've never tried"

later, she discovers the Rubik's cube. It takes her about two days to solve it (two days straight, without food, and Levi had to force her to sleep)

Eventually, they settle down. They both want to return to Paradis and live there in anonymity.

They find a remote house in the forest, near the river, like they once promised to. They prefer to be calm and isolated-- or at least choose when they want to interact with the world. They live together, of course, it feels natural by now. It would feel unnatural not to, after everything.

The house has two bedrooms.

They go to Historia's for lunch often. She and her husband share weird looks, but they never say anything. Her daughter calls them aunt and uncle. She climbs on Levi's lap, and he doesn't complain, he just holds her nonchalantly and lets her touch the shaved part of his undercut.

When he asks Hange why she's smiling like an idiot, she tells him it's nothing.

Did I mention that he lets Hange cut his hair?

Hange studies plants, birds, has adopted some animals from time to time despite what Levi says.

Somehow, Levi manages to clean the entire house in no time. He also bathes Hange, because some things never change.

"Don't put pressure on yourself, that's an order," Hange tells him. "You're not my superior anymore," he reminds her. That holds more weight than he intended it to. They're free.

The weight of memories becomes to much to bear, eventually. With all the free time they have, all they do is remember those they've lost. The family that broke up.

Hange gets up at nights and goes to Levi's room. They don't exchange many words, she just crawls into bed with him. They sleep side by side. Eventually, the second bedroom turns into a study.

They treat each other's injuries, apply the necessary balms to the scars and the burns every day. It becomes their routine. Hange sometimes kisses the scar on his eye when she's done, just to see him flustered.

Levi doesn't do exactly the same to the burns on her back, but the touch of his fingers is so deliberately featherlight that Hange can't help but shiver. It's something that comes naturally, because he wants to take care of her.

They get married. It's the only possible outcome. They both knew it would happen, they just needed time to adjust to their newfound freedom.

"it wasn't that obvious," Hange complains when Historia makes a remark one day about "how great, it was about time".

"it was, Commander," Historia says. "We all saw it coming."

they share anecdotes, and the evening passes with Hange saying "wait, you were jealous??" and "that's why you said that??"

they both feel flustered when Historia reveals they were basically the parents of the 104th. They knew, but still, it being said out loud hits different.

Mikasa was maid of honour.

(now, whether they have kids of their own is another story.)

They're both awkward af, mostly Levi. At first when Levi wants to kiss her, he gets extra serious, catches her attention like "oi" and maybe grabs her by the hair.

They feel like Erwin's gonna appear out of nowhere and tell them that they're being unprofessional lol

For a while (or a lot) every time Levi wakes up, he feels like he'll open his eyes and it will all have been a dream, and he'll wake up back in the barracks with two eyes and more people to lose.

so Levi seeks next to him, finds Hange, and holds her, breathes in the scent of the forest and the sea salt on her. Only then does he open his eyes, when he feels like it's safe to. He's never told her.

They visit the sea very often. Levi stands up from his wheelchair then, and they hold hands and look. Now, the sea doesn't hold promises and vows, it's just sea. Blue and beautiful. They watch sunsets and sleep in the sand and watch sunrises together.

the house is full of photos of them and their trips, and little souvenirs and plants and Hange's research.

I feel like they would become legends as the time passed. Of course, Hange is a well known "historical figure" as the 14th Commander, but Levi? There are no pictures of him, only oral tales about "a soldier so strong he could defeat 30 titans at once". Yeah, right, as if. Where's the proof?

Hange becomes a herbologist or zoologist or astronomer or everything. Maybe she becomes a professor and does her own research on a field she loves. Some of her students come to her house and they see Levi Freaking Ackerman chilling like "wassup"

and they ask "did you really kill like 100 titans" "were titans even real?" (because scepticism and because they were too young to remember) And Levi just says "no" and goes about his day.

(there are swords on the wall, though)

Levi prefers to stay at home and be at peace. He helps refugees, of course, and "helps around" with Historia's orphanage (kids run around and he calls them brats)

Hange has made a bet with herself as they grow older that Levi will end up with more wrinkles around his eyes than between his brows. She's never told anyone.

(the bet is proceeding well)

eventually they grow old together and watch their "grandkids" (Historia's kids, Jean's kids, Aruani's kids, Mikasa's adopted kids, etc)

The kids call them their grandparents and they absolutely don't mind. Levi chastises them, but not harshly.

He teaches the kids how to flip butterfly knives. What is Jean going to do, tell him not to?

They absolutely adore Hange. She makes up those fun games and teaches them a multitude of things (although a parent must always be around because her games are kinda dangerous)

Levi wears Hange's clothes. The trope where the girl wears her man's T-shirts, and whatever-- that's Levi. And he can pull them off.

Hange wears his clothes too. I mean, Levi has broad shoulders and although the shirts might be kinda short, it's a fashion choice and she looks fabulous. They've forgotten which clothes are whose. Sometimes they even buy them the "wrong" size for the other one to steal.

Okay this is long, I gotta stop. But send me more questions like this, people, I love them

[agaypanic]

i just need more vamp! reader x ethan morgan /preferably hc's (you choose the plot)

Ethan Morgan With a Vampire S/O Headcanons

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***

I’ve said this before, but he’s cautious about your teeth being near him

Specifically, your fangs near a bloodstream

He’s scared you’ll either drink him dry or turn him

Usually, you’re good about keeping them in around him, but sometimes, they just come out

Especially since, canonically, Ethan has really good blood

You and Ethan had been studying in his room for a few hours. Well, he was studying. You decided to just sit on his lap and accompany him, okay with risking that you’d probably be doing a frantic study session the night before a test. Ethan had stopped trying to get you to study with him, learning to just be content with the fact that you were spending time with him.

One hand was planted on your hip, keeping you steady in your place, while the other turned the pages in his textbook. Every time he reached to turn a page, he’d kiss your cheek or forehead.

Somehow, Ethan cut his finger while lifting the page he was on, and you stiffened. 

Ethan looked at you, soon becoming scared at the sight of your fangs and yellow eyes. Usually, he thought you looked cool. But then again, your fangs usually showed when you were fighting a bad guy of the week, not when you were staring at your boyfriend.

“Uhhh, Y/n?” His voice shook you out of your bloodlusting trance, and you slapped a hand over your nose and mouth, scrambling off of his lap.

“Oh my gosh, Ethan, I’m so sorry.” You both seemed shaken up at this moment. You were genuinely thinking about taking some of Ethan’s blood as soon as the delicious scent hit your nostrils. 

And by the look on Ethan’s face, it seemed like he knew it.

“It’s okay,” he said reassuringly, but he still stood up and moved out of the room cautiously. “You stay here; I’ll go clean this up.” 

Yeah, sometimes things get a lil rough

But usually, you and Ethan have a great time together

If you have to hunt at night, he likes to go with you

He won’t look because he’d probably throw up or something

But he likes spending time with you and doesn’t want you getting hurt or anything

Even though he knows you can take care of yourself

“Okay, I’m gonna grab a bite to eat.” You stood from the park bench you and Ethan were sitting on. It was about eleven at night, so the place was empty except for you two and wildlife. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here.” Ethan smiled up at you. You kissed him briefly before speeding off, hoping to find something filling.

Although he never accompanied you during the main part of your excursions, Ethan liked to come with you when you had to hunt at night. It was nice to spend some time together away from everyone else.

Ethan only had to wait a few minutes before you returned. You sat down next to him, sighing in satisfaction.

“That was fast,” Ethan commented. 

“Yeah, I found a pack of squirrels.” Despite the situation, Ethan laughed. He threw his arm over your shoulders and looked down at you.

“Oh!” He moved his head back a bit in surprise, looking at your mouth. “You got a lil something there.” He pointed to the corner of his mouth, mirroring the spot where you had a smudge of blood. You wiped at your mouth and, after seeing the red, licked it off your finger. Ethan shuddered but still held you close. “Okay, then.”

I feel like Ethan would eventually want to be turned

Kinda think that death and dying scare him a bit

Plus, he hates the thought of you outliving him since you’ll live forever

It takes a bunch of convincing on both sides before you actually do it tho

“Ethan, are you sure you’ve really thought about this?” You asked, staring up at his ceiling as the two of you lay on his bed. “I mean, once I do it, there’s no going back. The chances of there being a cure are slim to none.”

“I know.” He sighed. “But I’m sure.”

“A hundred percent sure?”

“Yeah.” Ethan turned his head to look at you, just to see that you were already looking at him. “And besides, we agreed to do it after graduation. So if I’m suddenly not completely sure, I have a few months to say so.” He reached down to grab your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m not gonna change my mind, though. I don’t wanna lose you.”

“I don’t wanna lose you either.” You said softly.

You turned onto your side, shifting so you were pressed into Ethan’s side. He let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your body, keeping you close.

“Just a few more months.” He said before kissing you.

“And then forever.” You replied once you broke apart.

[musings-of-a-rose]

I Don't Want to See Tomorrow (Unless I See It With You) - Chapter 3

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader nicknamed "Juni"

Word Count: 5300+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I've had this idea in my head for well over a year and with the Fallout show being dropped (and absolutely AMAZING), I figured now was the time to post it! So this is a Triple Frontier/Fallout crossover au. Huge shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for listening to probably hours of audio at this point of me talking myself through this fic. And to @deathbecomesnerds for listening to me prattle on about video game fics and giving me her own advice.

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**Reader is not described

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I Don’t Want to See Tomorrow (Unless I See It With You) Masterlist

My body yanks me from my sorrow. Its need to eat and drink overpowering anything else I may be feeling. I blink awake, noticing the bottle of purified water and a snack are still sitting on the nightstand from when Hawthone brought them. I manage to sit up, my head spinning, vision blurry and reach for the can of water. I pop it open and bring it to my chapped lips, taking a few small sips before setting it back down. I want to chug the whole thing but I don't know where else there's clean water. I nibble on some of the stale Fancy Lads Cakes that Hawthorne had left, but I was never a big fan of them even when they were fresh. Still, it's something. I guess.

Hawthorne rounds the corner and enters my room, his large, round, metallic eye surveying me. "Are you alright, ma'am?"

I shrug. It's the best I can offer. "How long was I out?"

"A few days, ma'am. I was starting to get worried."

I can't even offer him a small smile, my insides still reeling from the loss of Benny. And also the stale cakes. "I'm sorry, Hawthorne."

"Can I bring you anything?"

I look down at the nightstand where the snack cakes and water still sit. "Do you know..I mean, have you talked to anyone in the last 200 years?"

"A few people, ma'am. The ones in Concord didn't shoot at me, at least. They did tell me to avoid a group called Raiders. Nasty people. I had thought to venture out further but the way they described them, I didn't want to chance ending up as parts."

"So...so I'm not the only one?"

"Oh no, ma'am. From what I hear, there are settlements, other groups trying to make the wasteland better."

It's not Benny, not by a long shot, but at least I'm not the only person left in the world. Or at least the area. Relief floods my system, but only for a moment as my body settles back on grief.

"Did they say anything about food or water?"

"They did mention something about a water purifier, but I don't know if they had it with them or they were looking to fix it. They did have food with them that looks like it was grown. Tatos, I think they called them. Small round things that look like tomatoes."

My brain perks up at the thought of studying this, unable to quell my curious scientific side. "Interesting." If there were other people, maybe one of them knows something about the vaults. It's possible I could find where Benny...wait. Vault Tech lied to us and froze us instead of decontaminating us. But if they did it to me...maybe the same thing happened to Benny? He was guarding some fancy to do person. Surely they would've had access to a vault? I stand up quickly, nearly falling over as the edges of my vision darken before normalzing, my head rushing. I need to eat more than stale snack cakes.

I reach out and place my hand on the wall to steady myself, shaking my head to clear the last of the haziness away. "I need to find other people."

"Oh. Yes of course, ma'am. I understand."

I look up at Hawthorne, his metal body seemingly deflating a little in disappointment. "I need to try and find out what happened to Benny. If I made it in a vault, maybe he did too."

"Yes, ma'am. I do hope that Lieutennant Miller made it."

I swallow hard. "Yeah. Me too. But whether or not he's....we'll still need a place to live. Do you think you can spruce up the whole neighborhood?"

His whole metallic body straightens. "Yes ma'am! I can do that! But can I make a small request?"

"Of course."

"There are a few parts and things that I could use to help. Could I give you a list and if you find them, could you bring them back?"

"I don't see why not."

He tells me what he needs and I record it in my Pip Boy. It's a simple list, really. I could find most of this at that Red Rocket Station. If it's still standing. If not, I could always head into Concord, the next closest town. Besides, Hawthorne mentioned meeting people in Concord. Maybe they're still there. And hopefully still friendly.

I re-pack my backpack with my meager supplies, swallowing down my earlier thoughts about Benny. I have to focus on the task at hand. And hope that it brings me some answers at least. I say my goodbyes to Hawthorne, who immediately begins to tidy, as much as he can anyway. As I step outside, I can hear him mumbling to himself about the "abysmal state of the begonias." Despite myself, I chuckle at the thought of a 200+ year old robot worrying about flowers in an apocalyptic wasteland.

I cross over the small bridge that connects our quaint, island neighborhood to the land proper, the waters of Misty Lake bubbling and quietly rushing below my steps. I pause for a moment, looking out over the water. It looks clean, but I know better. If the roach I encountered was that large, there's no way that water is as clean as it looks.

I continue walking about a quarter of a mile, grateful that I haven't encountered any new creatures when I see it - the giant, launching rocket on top of the Red Rocket fill station. Somehow, it had made it! I quicken my pace, rounding the corner, the building coming into full sight. But the commotion outside it's main door stops me in my tracks.

A dog, a German Shepherd if I'm seeing right, is fighting off..what the actual fuck is that thing? It's about the same length as the dog but fat, with no fur but wrinkled, white/tan skin, sort of like a naked mole rat. Wait. Is that a rat?? Before I can look again, it dives into a hole in the ground that it made impossibly fast. The dog stands at the edge of the hole, barking. But then the dog stops, his head turning to the side as he looks at the ground, moving away from the hole. Everything is quiet.

SCREECH!

The rat thing emerges from the ground in a flurry of dirt, catching the dog off guard. It lunges for the dog and manages to nip his back leg, the dog's yelp of pain followed by whimpers echoing off the building behind them. The rat turns on the limping dog, drool dripping from it's open mouth. Without thinking, I draw my gun and aim, firing without hesitating and surprising myself when I hit my mark.

The rat screeches in pain and then crumbles to the ground, motionless. The dog stares at the rat for a moment then, seeing it's no longer alive, slumps to the ground. I holster my weapon and head towards the dog, stopping when its head snaps up to me, eyes boring into mine in judgement. I hold my hands up, palms facing the dog.

"It's ok, buddy. I'm here to help you."

The dog, a boy, I realize, studies me for a moment longer and whines again, licking the wound on his leg a few times before looking back up at me, as if asking me to take a look. I walk up to him an kneel down, looking at his leg. It looks pretty deep, blood spilling from the open gash. I glance over at the rat, its mouth hanging open, its giant teeth protruding out. No wonder it looks this bad.

"Wait here a minute, bud. I'll see if they still have a med kit."

I stand back up, his eyes on me as I move towards the Red Rocket station. I pull my gun back out, just in case, but encounter nothing new inside. I did, however, find a first aid box, still completely intact. I open it and find 3 stimpaks, a sense of relief flooding my system. At least I have something to heal with if I need it. I really hope I don't need it.

I toss 2 of them in my backpack and head back outside with the third. I kneel down next to the dog again and he looks from me to the stimpack in my hand.

"I'm going to poke you with this but I promise you'll feel much better, ok?"

He barks once, like he agrees, and waits patiently. I take a deep breath and poke the needle from the stimpack into his side, a little whimper coming from him at the contact. But then the medicine is inside him and I can see the wound starting to heal already. Once it does, he licks at it to clear the blood and then jumps up, barking and hopping around me. I give his head a scratch and he nudges me for more.

"You almost became dogmeat, dude. You gotta be careful." He jumps up and tries to lick at my face. I laugh and back up. "Ok, ok! You're welcome, Dogmeat." He lets out huff and puts his head on my side. I pat him a few more times before heading back over towards the Red Rocket, bringing up the list that Hawthorne gave me on my Pip Boy. To my amazement, Dogmeat follows me, wagging his tail and staying by my side.

"You staying with me now, Dogmeat?" He barks, panting happily while his tail waggs quicker. What did we ever do to deserve dogs?

"Alright, then. But try not to get hurt, ok?" I scratch behind his ears once more before looking around the station. I was able to find pretty much everything Hawthorne had asked for, my backpack considerably heavier on my small trek back to my neighborhood, Sanctuary Hills.

I spend the next few weeks with Hawthorne and Dogmeat, sprucing up the neighborhood as best as we can. Several of the homes are beyond repair, roofs caved in and the insides all crumbled. Maybe if more people are ever around, we can clear them out and use the wood to build something new. Or fortify something. There's definitely holes in the outer barrier of Sanctuary Hills.

The plants, though. The adaptations to the radiation is more than anything I ever worked on in the lab! Granted that was all on a much smaller scale in a controlled environment. Some plants have merged with others and mutated to be something new, while others just became a more intense version of themselves. And still others seem virtually unphased by any of it, still looking the same as they did 200 years ago.

I was able to forage for some foods, Hawthorne and my Pip boy helping me to scan the foods to see what I should really avoid and what would be tolerable. Some of the other abandoned houses had pre-bomb foods still fully intact, but honestly sometimes, I'd rather take my chances on a radiated berry than a Salisbury Steak that's stayed the same over 2 centuries.

But I can't stay here like this forever. I need to find information about Benny. And now that I've got more food saved up, grateful for the basement full of purified water cans that one of our neighbors had squirreled away, it's time for me to venture out. Hawthorne continues to work on the neighborhood, but I can tell he thinks I won't be back. And maybe he's right. Dogmeat comes with me, not wanting to leave my side unless I tell him to. He's good at finding things and also catching small critters, which drastically improves meal times.

We head over the Old North Bridge and past the Red Rocket where Dogmeat and I first met, and continue down the road towards Concord. It's not too much farther, maybe another couple of miles, but about halfway there, Dogmeat suddenly stops, his ears perked up as he stares intensely ahead at the road.

"What is it, boy?" I speak quietly to him, kneeling by his side. He lets out a low "bufff". I see nothing, but the road does wind away a bit down the road. I don't hear anything right away, but then I decide to close my eyes, focus on hearing. And that's when I finally do hear it - voices. And not just any voices, human voices.

I make a clicking sound to Dogmeat and he follows me immediately into the tall brambles by the side of the road, crouching to avoid detection. We wait about 15 minutes before the people are finally in view. They must be injured for them to have taken this long.

"..all I'm saying, is that we've been wandering around looking for this Sanctuary place Mama Murphy has been claiming she sees in her "visions". And what do we have to show for it? More scars, more empty bellies, and less people."

"Marcy, you know Mama Murphy doesn't lie. She's trying to get us to a safe place."

A scoff. "Yeah, but how many of us will be alive by then? We just lost 3 more people back there to that fucking deathclaw."

What the hell is a deathclaw? I really don't want to find out. The group stops, almost in line with where we're hiding and I get a good look at them. They're all in pretty rough shape, their clothes ripped in a lot of places, bags under their eyes, some woulds still bleeding, and an overall sense of weariness. Their leader, a man with dark skin and a wide brimmed hat, carries some kind of gun type weapon with a crank. One I'm not really familiar with. But everyone else seems to have holstered their weapons. If they had them. They don't seem like a threat to me. In fact, they may have information on the Vaults. I look at Dogmeat and he looks at them, waiting for a few moments before looking at me, seemingly in agreement.

I stand from where I had been crouching, my hands raised in front of me. "Hey there! Is everyone ok?"

The man with the hat immediately turns to me, his weapon raised and aiming directly at my chest. "Stop right there!"

I don't move, my hands still held up in front of me. "I'm sorry. I haven't seen people in...a very long time. Is everyone ok?"

The man with the hat glances sideways at his group before back at me. "We can still fight."

"Oh no! I'm not..I want to help!"

"Yeah? Prove it!" The woman who had been complaining before, dark hair, lighter skin, eyes narrowing further at me, yells snarkily at me. Marcy, I think her name is.

"How do I prove that?"

"Wait." An older woman's voice spoke from inside the group of people and the mat with the hat turned to look at her. An older woman, maybe in her 60's, with a beanie hat and blue coat looks up at me. "Are you the vault dweller?"

I glance down at my bright blue jumpsuit with the yellow paneling. “Yeah.”

Marcy snorts, but the woman stares deep into my eyes. “The one lost to time?”

My eyes go wide, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “She’s the one who can take us to Sanctuary.”

Marcy scoffs. “We just see some random chick in a vault suit and we’re just supposed to-”

“Sanctuary?” I ask the woman, never having taken my eyes off hers. 

She nods. “A place we can make safe and call home.”

How did this woman know about me? A vault dweller “lost to time”? And then she says I can take them to Sanctuary. Like Sanctuary Hills? Where my home is? Sure, it needs some love, but it is on an island. There’s only a few holes in the perimeter, not a bad place to hold up. But still. I hardly know these people-

“Mama Murphy, we can’t just go asking citizens to take us to places and hope they know what we’re talking about.”

Her eyes are still on me, studying me. “She knows what I’m talking about.”

Several long moments pass before the man in the hat clears his throat, holding his hand out towards me. “I’m sorry for the introductions. My name is Preston and I’m with the Minutemen.” I shake his hand but my confusion must show on my face because he continues. “Oh, right. Vault dweller. The Minutemen are made up of civilian volunteers. We’re here to protect the people at a minute’s notice.”

Minutemen. Sounds like a good organization. I’m going to have to trust at some point if I want answers. 

“You can call me Juni.”

Marcy chuckles. “I think I’ll stick with Vault Dweller.”

Preston glances sideways at her before back at me. “It’s nice to meet you, Juni.”

No time like the present. “Do you know anything about any other vaults? Around Boston?”

Preston nods. “Only a bit. Met a couple of them a while back. 2 women. They had some…unique features-”

“If you think one eye and horns are just unique.”

I look at Marcy. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Marcy, we call them mutations. Apparently, they were uh..experimented on in their vault. Not just them but all the generations before them. So…mutations.”

So they were running experiments in all of the vaults. I guess that makes sense, considering they never told us about the cryo and even pretended it was decontamination. What else has Vault Tech done?

“What vault were they from?” I ask Preston. 

He shrugs. “They didn’t say. Got rid of their vault suits before we met too.”

Well, at least there are other vault dwellers out there. That means, I may be able to communicate with them from my vault, assuming the equipment works. It’s not much, but a tiny flutter of hope billows in my stomach at the thought of possibly finding out more information about Benny. 

“About Sanctuary-”

Marcy cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t listen to Mama Murphy. She’s high most of the time she comes up with these visions.”

“That may be, but I live in a place called Sanctuary Hills. It’s not to far from here actually. Would…would you all like to accompany me back? There’s work that needs to be done to refortify it. But with everyone pitching in, I don’t see that being an issue. There’s plenty of space for everyone.”

All of their eyes are fixed on me, wide and bewildered. Except for Mama Murphy, who simply smirks, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it. A man with spiked brown hair, coveralls, and goggles hanging around his neck speaks up from the back of the group.

“Did you say there were things to fix up?”

“I did.”

The man turns to Preston, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline as he waits for his answer.

“Can you give us a moment, Juni?” 

“Sure. Come on, Dogmeat.” I turn and head back in the Red Rocket station, gathering up the few parts and bits that I thought may be useful while the group discussed things outside. Only a minute later, Preston was calling for me to come back. I tossed the parts in my bag and headed back over, wiping my hands on my pants. 

“We accept your offer of refuge.” Preston sticks his hand out and I shake it.

“Great! Follow me.”

The group follows me back over the bridge to Sanctuary Hills, their murmurs growing quiet as they take in the setting. I can hear the man in the coveralls, Sturges, mumbling to himself, making a list of things to fix up and materials he’d need. Preston scans the area as does Marcy, albeit with a more skeptical look. We stop at the house across the street from mine, some chairs and benches already setup under the open garage. Hawthorne had done a great job of cleaning up and arranging what he could. Mama Murphy sat in the chair and groaned, leaning her foot across her opposite leg, sliding off her shoes to massage her foot. 

“Don’t get old, dear. It’s not kind to your body.”

“I’m older than you.”

She looks up at me and starts to laugh. “I guess you are!”

Marcy pauses her pacing and looks at me. “What? You’re not older than her.”

I shrug. “She was right about me. I uh…I was frozen in my vault. I’m-” I think a moment. “-I’m about 228 years old.”

Everyone’s jaw drops. “228 years old? So you were like..here? Before?”

I nod and toss my thumb over my shoulder, pointing at my home. “I grew up in that house. My parents still lived there when…”

My mind races back to that day, a vivid image of the mushroom cloud silently erupting over the city. I shake my head to rid it of the memory and give them a small smile. “Anyway…Hawthorne-” I nod towards the Mr. Handy robot that had floated up to us. “- has been trying his best to get things fixed up, but we really need extra hands.”

“I’m afraid I’m all thumbs. Rather, I’m no thumbs,” Hawthorne says matter-of-factly. Everyone chuckles lightly. 

Sturges looks around. “I’ve been making a list of things we can do to fortify this place. Things we’d need to get. Jung, you still got ahold of that water purifier?”

“You have a water purifier?” I ask him, shocked.

He nods. “Yup! Ah, thanks Jung.” The man that had been hanging primarily behind Marcy hands him a complicated looking device. Sturges looks it over and nods. “Still in good shape! I can put this in the water down there, but we’ll need to secure it. If someone sees this, that river won’t stop them from trying to get it.”

The rest of the night is spent around a campfire, eating some of the food I’d managed to grow, along with some of their rations, while we discussed what needs to be done to make this place like a fort. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little sad about changing the way Sanctuary Hills looks, but I’m not a fool. This world is not the one I came from, and I yield to their expertise in this new adventure. 

We spend the next several months putting up walls and scrounging for parts for a few turrets in nearby Concord. I learn more about this wasteland, or what they call The Commonwealth. Apparently, more than just roaches had mutated, and I listen in horror with all of the mutated creatures that they’ve encountered. While I’ve fought more than just the rad roach and mole rat, I haven’t run across a deathclaw or radscorpion yet. And while I’m still a little unclear about what a deathclaw is other than some sort of giant dinosaur lizard, I do know for sure that I don’t want to ever meet one. No matter how curious I am. 

They in turn ask me questions about life before. What it was like, the food, could we just drink any water, the food, was everything clean, what was the food like. I’m not surprised the food was what they’re interested in most, especially after having the food that is the new normal. I never would have guessed I’d be eating friend radroach or baked bloatfly, but after I threw up from not having enough protein, I had to cave. Hakuna matata. 

Once the wall was up, I started heading back into the vault a few times a week. At first, I brought Sturges and Marcy with me, all of us scavenging for parts and things we could use. The vault was fairly stripped by this point, a mere skeleton of its former glory. We did get everyone out of the cryo pods, digging a small cemetery above ground and giving them a proper burial. So much unnecessary loss. Part of me wonders how long I sat there, frozen, while my neighbors were long since dead.

Once they gathered everything they could, I continued to come down to fiddle with the computers, trying to contact any other vaults. I’m met mostly with static, which makes sense. A lot of vaults may just be empty, people having left them a long time ago. Or maybe they lay dormant. Or dead. 

I did get ahold of a couple vaults, but one spoke some weird made up language and another the reception was so spotty I could barely make them out. All I managed to figure out was they were on the west coast, so they couldn’t really help me out anyway. Still, I kept at it, holding onto that last spark of hope that he was still out there somewhere. Or I could at least find out what happened to him. I fiddle with the controls, turning knobs and repeating my vault number into the microphone, only static in return. I glance at the watch on my Pip Boy and sit up, stretching. I almost didn’t come today, but I wanted to give it one quick shot this morning before I had to harvest the crops we’d been growing: tatos, like a tomato, mutfruit, a small, purple fruit that tastes sweet, and corn. We were growing extra as we could use them to make useful tools, like adhesive or acid, which I was able to make extra potent with my background knowledge in bio-nuclear agriculture. 

I gather up my bag and Dogmeat stretches, standing up to accompany me out of the vault. As we ascend, I kneel down and scratch him behind the ear, patting his head as I stand back up, feeling him give my hand a quick lick. The sun crests over the edge of the metal tube, the gears groaning slightly as they settle into place. I shield my eyes as the light hits them, turning to head down the path back towards Sanctuary Hills. But as I near it, I can hear panicked voices, tools moving quicker than normal. It takes several knocks on the gate before it opens, Mama Murphy standing there, looking worried. 

“Hey, Mama Murphy. What’s going on?”

Her eyes are filled with fear, an emotion I had yet to see in her. 

“Nightshade.”

I cock my head, my eyebrows pulling together. “Like the plant?”

She shakes her head, leaning in close to whisper. “Like the person.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. Or who. “I don’t understand.”

Preston walks up then, beckoning me to him. “Good, you’re back. We could use your help over at the crops.”

I look back at Mama Murphy, her eyes wide and worried before I follow Preston to the garden, jogging just to keep up with his large gait. Marcy and Jung are in the garden, hurriedly trying to gather up crops, tossing them into bags. 

“Preston, what’s going on?”

He looks back at me, the same worry in Mama Murphy’s eyes in his own. “Nightshade.”

“You keep saying that like I’m supposed to know what that means.”

“It means,” Marcy yells from her crouched position next to a tato plant. “That we better have a good choice of crap for him or he’ll kill us all. And that’s if he’s kind.”

I look at Preston for confirmation and he nods. “He’s a courier and a merc. He moves between settlements and Raiders, bartering deals and…contracts.”

“That doesn’t sound entirely terrible. I mean, aren’t the Raiders nasty? This way, less people die?”

Preston grimaces. “Not entirely. I mean, sure. Overall, there’s less mass deaths. Raiders were known to come in and destroy an entire area and then move on. Now, those areas are still getting to be used for farming and such.”

“So what’s the issue?”

“If you don’t comply and give him what he demands…well. It doesn’t end well.”

I look back over at Marcy and Jung, both of them scrutinizing each piece of fruit before deciding if it was good enough for this Nightshade before either leaving it or tossing it in a burlap sack. 

“Is this all for one person?”

Preston shrugs. “Sometimes. Other times, it’s for other groups. Unless he tells us, we don’t ask.”

“This is a lot of food.”

“It is.”

“We need these rations to give out to other settlements, the ones that you said need our help.”

He sighs. “I just don’t see a way we can keep everything here and our lives. We’ll just have to grow more.”

I’ll have to think on that. But… “You said he travels around?”

Preston nods. “Yeah. All around the Commonwealth. Some other areas too like Far Harbor up north and the old Nuka Cola World. Which is basically a giant raider settlement now.”

“When do you have to give him the supplies?”

“Tomorrow at noon. At the Red Rocket where we met you. Why?”

“I’d like to be the one to bring them.”

Preston shakes his head vehemently. “No. No way. I’m not going to let you face this man by yourself.”

“I won’t be alone. I have Dogmeat.”

Preston scoffs. “That won’t be enough.”

“If we have all the supplies he asked for, I don’t see the issue.”

“He’s the Nightshade, Juni.”

“And he could be the only one who has information about Benny.”

Preston opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “I’m doing this, Preston. I’ll be ok. And if I’m not, then just..carry on. You already have Sanctuary Hills. You’ll be fine. The Commonwealth needs you more than me.”

He studies me for a few moments before nodding. “I can’t convince you otherwise?”

I shake my head. “Not when it comes to possibly finding out more information about Benny.”

“I understand. Please be careful.”

I leave the next morning, a few hours before I would need to be at the Red Rocket. It takes about 45 minutes to walk there, especially with the supplies this Nightshade requested, a random mix of provisions and scrap. Dogmeat scouts ahead of me, sniffing the ground, making sure we’re safe. The bright Red Rocket station gleams through the light fog, but as we approach, we see no one waiting there. Figures. 

I drop the bags outside, standing up and stretching my back. Dogmeat sniffs around and then stands in front of me, tail wagging and eyes watching me. Its been a while since we’ve been outside of the gates or the vault and I can tell he wants to explore. 

“Alright. Go get a squirrel or something. I’ll be ok.” He cocks his head at me and whines. I bend to scratch behind his ears. “Go on. I know you want to hunt.” A quick lick to my hand and he’s off, disappearing out into the bushes. 

I sigh, my hands on my hips as I look around. The fog has only lifted slightly and I’m unable to see past the perimeter of the station. It’s quiet, nothing really moving, not even a breeze. I start to pace, kicking the dirt outside a little with my toe. But after a while, I grow bored and decide to head inside the station to do another sweep for things. We’ve been here so many times, but anything to break up the boredom. I’ll count ceiling tiles if I have to. I pick up a box and set it on the counter inside, bending over it to look inside, poking around at the random things in it. Basically trash, but you never know. Suddenly, I feel a cold, metal cylinder push against the back of my neck and I realize with horror that it’s the barrel of a gun. It clicks, a round sliding into the chamber and my heart feels like it’s going to beat through my chest. Is this the Nightshade? I can’t believe I let my guard down.

“Where the fuck did you get this jumpsuit?”

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[cineresis]

Angels in America

It's amazing how fast an evening at your favorite club can be ruined by someone keeling over and frothing at the mouth. The band never quite gets back into the swing of things afterwards.

"Angel," sighed one of the men, or nearest approximants, at the table next to mine, "why is it that I can never go anywhere with you without stumbling across a body?"

"Oh, come now," said his partner, a soft, fluffy confection in caramel and cream, rising hastily to make his way toward the source of the commotion. The first gentleman, dark, lanky, and excruciatingly chic, got up to follow him. "It's hardly every time."

I stayed where I was for now, casting my gaze around the room as I went over my memory of the past twenty or thirty minutes. Too many people passing close enough to slip something into the victim's drink, too many others to watch at the same time, too many more opportunities to poison him outside my field of view. I was a detective, not God.

"Stumbling upon, once. Literally. Do you know what it's like to have to clean up after that sort of thing? It takes a personal toll."

"Hush, Crowley," chided "Angel". "People can hear you, and you know how queer they get about these things. Ooh, yes, that's strychnine, all right," he added cheerfully, pulling a small vial from his vest pocket and tipping it into his handkerchief. "Nasty stuff."

I got up. As I approached, I caught the faint, unmistakable chemical sweetness of ether fumes and gave them a wide berth, choosing instead to inspect the victim's plate and glass before turning to scan the room from this perspective.

"Now, just what might you be doing?" drawled Crowley.

I looked him over, too, while I was at it. In Crowley's case, this involved a lot of looking and not much over; he was easily more than six feet tall, even while slouching rakishly. The snake tattoo on his right temple suggested certain things about him. The dark glasses that he hadn't removed since he'd entered just suggested questions, since I highly doubted he was blind. "I'm a detective," I said, leaving the obviously at the end of that sentence to implication. "What are you doing?"

This response seemed to delight him. "So are we," Crowley answered, and grinned. "But if you want to get specific about it, I'm keeping you distracted while my friend saves this man's life. Let's see your license, then."

As I took it out, keeping at least one eye on him and his partner, Angel called out to the rubbernecking crowd around us, "I need someone here to run and call the nearest hospital, and a couple of strong men to help get this poor fellow someplace dark and quiet to rest. Best use one of the tablecloths for a stretcher," he added to the first volunteer who stepped forward.

Crowley leaned in closer to study my license. "Drake Silas Donovan," he read off. "'Silas', really?"

"What about it?"

"I've just always wondered what kind of parent would name their kid Silas."

"The kind who had a grandfather named Silas," I replied coolly, snagging my license back. "Your turn."

He obliged. Anthony J. Crowley, it read, licensed in London since 1905, the year before mine. I wondered how long he'd been at this; he looked too young for his apparent age, but then I looked too old for mine. "A. J. Crowley," I read his signature aloud. "Get asked if you're any relation every time, or just most?"

There's a certain motion a person's head makes when they roll their eyes. Crowley's was making it. "The man's an embarrassment to the side," he griped. "I made my name legitimately."

"And your friend?" It wasn't as if I couldn't put two and two together. There's a certain type of person who's got both a nose for trouble and the brains to prepare for it; if it walks, talks, and thinks like a dick, it probably is one. It was just that I wasn't in the habit of trusting people, and I'd be a real schmuck to neglect basic due diligence on the guy purportedly surrounded by bodies. 

Detectives are no better or worse than any other person. They just think it's usually more interesting to solve crimes than commit them.

"Oh, he's as legitimate as it gets." Crowley turned to his companion, who was getting to his feet, brushing his clothes off fussily. Beside him, the two volunteers hoisted the unconscious victim onto a tablecloth spread across the floor, momentarily dislodging the ether-soaked cloth before Angel caught it and laid it carefully back in place over the victim's nose and mouth. "Aren't you, Aziraphale?"

Angel — "Aziraphale"? — looked up, startled. "Pardon?"

"Mr. Donovan here wants to see your detective's license," Crowley explained, enunciating his words with malice aforethought.

"Oh! Yes. Of course I always have that with me. Now just where did I..." He started patting down his pockets, stopped suddenly, and took a lovely calfskin card holder out of his coat. "Ah. Here it is."

Beaming, he passed it to Crowley, who passed it to me with the comment, "You'll find everything in order, I'm sure."

I glanced down at the card, then back up at Angel. "Am I supposed to call you A. Z. Fell or Aziraphale?" I asked, pronouncing the Z correctly as zed.

"A. Z. Fell is how 'Aziraphale' is pronounced in the King's English," said Crowley blandly, affecting a cut-glass Oxford accent on the last phrase. His partner seemed pleased by this comment, rather than annoyed.

"I'm afraid my progenitor bestowed me with a rather unwieldy given name," Fell admitted, raising fascinating questions about just how many syllables the British peerage could fit on a birth certificate when they really tried. "Aziraphale just sounds so much more euphonious, don't you think?" Crowley was right; I couldn't tell whether Fell had meant to say A. Z. Fell or the de-accented gloss. He'd lengthened the half-syllable between zed and Fell to a full vowel, but some people said zetta.

"I wouldn't know," I replied, handing the license back to Crowley, who was nearest. When Fell didn't take my bait, I added, "Lucky that you happened to have ether handy. I wouldn't like to imagine what might've happened if you'd decided to stay in tonight." I also lied when I said sorry, and when I swore to tell the whole truth and nothing but. Little white lies are the oil in the gears of civilization.

"Oh, I always carry that, too," Fell explained earnestly. "One gets into the habit after one's first run-in with strychnine, and of course ether has so many useful applica—"

"I wouldn't, angel," Crowley interrupted, sounding very amused. "Mr. Donovan thinks you're the one behind this."

"Oh," said Fell, nonplussed. "Gosh. Well, I — I suppose I can't blame him. He doesn't know me from Adam, after all, and has no reason to trust me — I did warn you about giving people funny ideas, Crowley, honestly. Of course," Fell turned to me, laying an elegant hand across his chest, "if you were to search me, you would find only a small collection of antidotes — oh, but a habitual poisoner would probably carry those, too, especially if he were the sort of voyeur with a penchant for playing the hero. I certainly wouldn't be convinced of my innocence. Yes, I can certainly understand whatever suspicion you might feel towards me, however misplaced it may be."

Crowley watched this thought process with an expression somewhere between fascination and agony. "Well, at least now he probably thinks that if you'd done it, you'd have been caught by now," he remarked, presumably because he was thinking the same thing. "You'll have to excuse my friend," Crowley added to me. "He still believes that the innocent have nothing to fear. Somehow."

"First time visiting?" I guessed.

Fell's bemusement answered my question before he did. "Pardon?"

"Never mind."

[pocketwei]

Hello !

As a fellow artist, I really admire your style, and would like to study it.

In that spirit, would you be OK to tell us a little bit about your process ?

I hope you have a great day and I look forward to seeing your future pieces !

Woah, this is high praise, thank you so much 🥹 And thank you for allowing me to nerd abt process hahaha, I love to talk abt this stuff! Drawing is so much fun honestly

For process, I'm not sure if you mean more the actual process of crafting the art, or rather the thought-process that goes into it, so I'll briefly cover both! I'll just talk abt my personal/fanart practice since I think this is what the "style" part refers to? As in, I won't mention process for, say, storyboards or backgrounds I make for animation.

Under the cut bc long answer!!

A piece usually begins with an idea, it's often inspired by something I see or hear, by something that comes up in a conversation with friends, by something I read in a fic, etc. And imo, the most crucial aspect of my creative practice is narration; it's the thing I strive to perfect and polish the most. What do I want to say with this piece, which story do I want to tell. Before I even start sketching, I usually have an idea of the intention I want for a piece, and with enough experience, at some point you start guessing what "visual devices" you should use to render that mood. E.g. if I have an idea that involves a really suffocating mood, a feeling of tension, one of the basic ways to go about it is to crowd your piece, have it more zoomed-in and in longer focal length so the perspective is flattened. Similarly, you'll often choose not to show your character whole (especially not their feet, with which they could flee!) or the floor (which is a way out for the character), you have many overlapping objects, etc. Knowledge of these "visual devices" honestly come with time, and sometimes they sound super basic, but they do the trick, and they're not hard to spice up and make more original when you keep your mood/intention in mind.

Then comes storyboarding/sketching! It's the most important part to me, because this is where you decide how you're going to tell your story. Sketching is the most exciting part, you can let your mind speak and find creative ways to spice up the "visual devices" you've figured out at the initial thinking step. I think one of the greatest advices I got, ever, was from my storyboard professor, who told us to always keep in mind that a picture (moving or not) is ALWAYS a 2D surface, and that it should be treated as such when storyboarding. I.e. when you board, think of your image as an arrangement of shapes on a flat surface, rather than a 3D scene. You can figure out the logistics and the perspective in lineart, but for storyboard, composition has to be prioritised over a well-constructed room, bc otherwise you'll just draw the same things over and over.

It depends on the pieces, but nowadays I prefer to just clean up the sketch rather than do a whole clean line on top of it, as not to lose the spontaneity and dynamism of the sketch. Lineart is about making things look pretty and nice to look at, but it's also a step where you can reinforce your initial intention with details. It can be details of anatomy (giving an expression, working on your characters' anatomy to make it expressive (what story does this body tell)), or of environment (what does this place mean for my characters, why are they here, what does it tell about them). For this I use truckloads of references!!!! Super important. Either from other artists, especially for anatomy details or line efficiency (matanai_ke, nisir0, nonebrainer on twt, whose styles I've been really digging recently), or from pictures/real life for enviros. No one's born with the ability to come up with a plausible baroque interior so get those refs! Lineart is honestly one of the steps I enjoy most, I spend the longest time on it because I need it to be perfect and tell exactly what I want to tell. I'm working on improving my linework quality because I feel terrible abt it ahjdsf

Then I do a coloursketch. My approach of colours is painterly (applying colours directly as they appear) rather than the neutral flats + coloured filters workflow, which do work great for beginners however, and I did my time in the mines with it as well asdjfh...... I usually apply an underpaint layer as shown below, usually then place lights first, and then work my way through all the elements.

Sometimes my underpaint is bright and saturated, sometimes it's more muted and darker: again, it all depends on the intention of the piece! I do this to visualise better and to contextualise the colours I'll paint on top of this base. The yellow in the top-left screenshot gives a warm touch to the wood-browns, even though they're not actually super saturated! With the bottom-right, the pink gives a colder aspect to the teals/greens and makes them more "aggressive", as it's their complementary colour. It also bears a narrative purpose: on the bottom-right screenshot, I wanted pink to seep from the edges of every shape, and purposefully left the edges jagged and rough instead of cleaning up the painting perfectly. Bright pink like this is not only a crazed colour, but it also represents Doflamingo, and in this case, it fit the intention to have him and this madness as the backdrop of a scene that doesn't involve him, but to which he is the unspoken key and center (Monet is hallucinating/projecting that it's Dof looking down on her, when it's actually Law). As if his presence was underlying the very materiality of the scene.

God that was long. Then comes rendering, which I hate with my guts because I don't know how to do it and if I could get away with only colour sketches for the rest of my life I would!!!! I hate spending time on colour details and rendering materials and polishing brushwork I just hate this step :')

And finally, compositing!! Slap some grain* on this bad boy, slight chromatic aberration in the corners if we're feeling fancy, perhaps a bit of field blur... chromatic aberration is to mimic cameras! it's a physical effect of the lens, and having it on illustrations give them a more cinematographic quality.

*in a non-destructive way I BEG!!!! Quick grain tutorial for the poor souls who still merge everything -> filter -> noise!!! 1. Create a gray layer with HSV at 0, 0, 50 2. filter -> noise as you'd normally do 3. set blending mode to overlay so your grain is more visible the darker your colours are (like for a real camera! grain is an artifact created when there isn't enough light in your captor) (I won't get into the maths of overlay but it's quite fascinating, basically it multiplies the value of pixels that are V>50 and "divides" the value of pixels that are V<50, while pixels that are V=50 like our initial grey layer, it doesn't change the value of the pixel underneath it) and 4. set opacity to ~20% depending on what you want or need

and tadah! you have an illustration. how cool!! there are still many things I need to work on, but it's a very fun exploration everytime :'D I feel glad that I've reached a point where I somewhat know what I'm doing, it made drawing so much more fun in the past year. Good luck w your own endeavours!!!

[being-addie]

Online aesthetics and the effects of social media trends

Let's talk about this.

How it can affect young teenagers

Open Tiktok or Instagram and everything on my For You Page now shows "How to achieve a Clean Girl Aesthetic"', "Old Money Aesthetic Hairstyles", "Cottagecore Hobbies", "How to be a Femme Fatale"

It never ends. Trends keep popping up left and right and it's inescapable.

As a young, impressionable teenager, I was, of course, naturally going to be influenced by these ever-changing trends. I'd constantly change my room aesthetic, buy new clothes, and I was never satisfied with my appearance. Why? Because I didn't look like the girls on screen.

News flash. You're never going to look like them. All that content they produce which gets 100k likes is done with excessive attention to detail, expensive lighting and sound equipment, and top-notch editing software. OF COURSE, you can't look like that. It's completely manufactured. It's heartbreaking to see young girls develop body image issues because of the constant bombarding of these "aesthetics" which are basically different beauty standards and stereotypes all wrapped up in a neat little package that is labelled "personality and style". I don't have anything against the concepts of aesthetics. I love how Dark and Light Academia is centred around learning, and how Cottagecore is all about relaxation and not conforming to being part of a 9-5 and just living life. I like how the Clean Girl is focused on being healthy and productive. What I don't like is how all these healthy things, which normal functioning humans should be doing are now turned into "trends" and you must "choose" between them.

Why it's so harmful

Fashion: Since aesthetics keep changing, you're going to find multiple that appeal to you. What happens when you discover you really like cottagecore, but your closet is filled with dark academia tweed? You turn to fast fashion. It's cheap and stylish. But it's horrible for the environment and that floral dress you're wearing was made by a woman in a sweatshop in Bangladesh, while fashion giants like Shein pocket the money.

Makeup: It's always there. Always. You cannot find a "how-to" post regarding aesthetics and makeup is not included. Its always how much blush to apply, why mascara is your best friend, blah blah blah. You know what I want to see? An aesthetic which promotes a clean, fresh face. I do wear makeup, not saying I'm perfect(yes, I wear lip tint and sometimes eyeliner), but it's the ridiculous notion that there's a specific makeup look for each aesthetic, and they say it's not very heavy, but really is concealer, foundation, blush, mascara and lipgloss light makeup?

Other: Then comes the things you should own, the bags, the shoes, the jewellery, the house decor. Did you notice to achieve the look, we're spending money bit by bit? Then you don't even realise it's made a dent in your savings.

Mentality: I hate this part about aesthetics so much. A while ago, I was really interested in Dark Academia and how it was centred around learning and studying. But everything was gloomy and dark and said I should be tired and bitter to achieve this. I'm not a serious person by nature in the first place, but here were blogs telling me to be "mysterious" and how I should be getting only 4 hours of sleep to be true Dark Academia? What is this dystopia? There's this weird obsession with how someone should behave if they like an aesthetic.

Online trends are all consumerism based. It's all to get you to blow your money on things that don't even benefit you.

There's a reason I never include and never will include tags like #clean girl or #pink pilates princess in my posts because it sort of reduces you to a certain aspect. Why confine yourself to these barriers? Wear what you want. Read what you like. The one "aesthetic" I believe in, is "that girl" which in reality is different for everyone, but boils down to being educated, well-mannered, and considerate. I will make a post on this. Being educated and kind is such a flex, not wearing one flowy white dress and "thinking" you're in a meadow. Break out of the pattern of being influenced by algorithms. Don't restrict your identity because of FOMO and the urge to be trendy. You've got this.

<3

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Leah’s College Roomate | Twilight headcanon

Link to my Twilight Masterlist

Being Leah Clearwaters college roommate would look like:

She was a little standoffish in the beginning. Literally whenever you tried to make conversation she wasn’t really interested and would give short answers or not speak at all. But you still were friendly and eventually Leah started to break down those walls of hers. “I’m..sorry. I-I don’t have many friends back home.”

Whether you two were the same major or studying different things, you two would have study nights either in the living room of y’all’s dorm/apartment or hang out in the school library. It was often the latter since you’d get distracted in your place. Luckily if one of y’all already had the class before you could lend each other notes or help with assignments. “I don’t understand this—it’s making my brain hurt.” “Here let me take a look”

It would be awhile before Leah would tell you about her life back home on the reservation. She’d tell you about her parents, her brother, her ex (which you wanted to beat up after she said he broke up with her and got with her cousin), and the few ‘friends’ she had. Of course Leah would never tell you her nature or the pack, that secret would remain forever.

When you two are not in class or doing schoolwork, you two like to have movie/tv show nights where you order take out, put on comfy Pjs, and chill in the living room watching whatever you two decide. Sometimes you guys will spend a whole weekend binge watching a show or movie franchise. Oh and much to Leah’s surprise, she enjoys tuning in every Monday night to watch the Bachelor/Bachelorette. “She better not choose him—he’s a walking red flag.” “Yeah, but who knows maybe red is her favorite color.”

While your room is very chaotic or straight from a Pinterest board, Leah’s is very simple and has a lot of her native heritage spread along the walls and keeps it clean. The living room/kitchen has elements that reflect the both of you so it is a nice blend. There’s a little plant area on the balcony if you have one or there’s fake ones inside.

If you end up going home for winter/spring break, you invite Leah to come with you back home if she is willing or has no plans. At first she was hesitant, but it turned out to be the best trip of her life. She enjoyed traveling and exploring since she never got to do it back home. The next break you have Leah ends up inviting you to come visit her, which you whole heartedly agree and she shows you everything there is about her culture.

You two love to share each other your favorite hobbies, books, movies, art, etc. It took a lot of convincing to get Leah to read your favorite book series, her excuse being she had a lot of schoolwork to get done first, but eventually she gives in and it becomes her whole personality. You two end up staying up a whole night just to talk about the series, its plot, the characters, and watch the adaptation if she hadn’t seen it.

Let’s remember, you two are college students so cooking can be a rare occurance. After a days long of classes, clubs, work if you have job, and any other thing in your daily life, cooking is brushed aside for Uber eats or the dining hall because lets be honest…your lazy to do dishes. However, on weekends you and Leah take turns cooking lunch/dinner. You will Friday nights, Leah Saturday and then both of you will work together on Sunday. “How’s paella sound for Friday?” “Fantastic. I’m thinking pasta or stir fry for Saturday.”

If either of you are in a relationship, you best believe the other is getting the tea. Even if its the ‘talking’ phase or casual dating, you guys will gather in ones room with a bottle of wine and chocolate to discuss the weeks events with whoever your boo thang is. Leah isn’t focused on a relationship and honestly neither are you, but that doesn’t stop you two from flirting or trying to get on someone’s tab when you go out for some fun. “Ugh I swear, Leah, if he just had a sense of rhythm in him when dancing, I would’ve folded.” “mmmh yeah don’t settle for less.”

[just-dino-maggie]

"What the hell were you thinking?" "In all honesty, I'm not sure." With Cole Caufield please!

I love this prompt! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!

Cole Caufield can only be described in one word, frustrating. We attend Northville High school together in Michigan. He’s part of the popular group of athletes. The USNTDP boys are a tight group, all the guys want to be friends with them and all the girls want to be with them.

I don’t blame anyone for wanting that. They are attractive and fun. Being apart of the coolest group at Northville would probably feel amazing for most people. For me, well I’m just trying to get through school.

High school isn’t my end-all be-all. It’s a stepping stone to get to college. The person who loves to get in the way of my plans is Cole Caufield. We are always in the same classes and for some reason he loves to sit next to me and bug me.

Today in English our teacher announced our end of the year project. It’s worth 20 percent of our grade so I need to do well. It’s a partner project and I’ve already decided that I want to do with my friend Amber who is acing the class.

In order to pick our partners we have to go up to the teacher’s desk and tell her who we want to work with. I walk up to the desk and say “I want to work with Amber on the final project.”

She throws me a confused expression, “I already have you marked down as working with Cole. He told me about the partnership last week.”

My eyebrows shoot up, “No I’m not working with Cole, I didn’t even know he chose me for this!”

“I’m sorry Y/n but unless you both agree to switch or there is a genuine issue then I can’t change it.” She looks apologetic, it’s not her fault.

I sigh and give her an awkward smile, “it’s fine I’ll figure it out.” I practically stomp back to my seat. I’m angry but I’m trying to calm myself.

The bell rings signaling the end of class. I grab my things and hurry to catch up with Cole. “Cole, hey can I talk to you?” He turns around. He has a big smile on his face, what a dipshit.

“Yeah Y/n what’s up?”

I take a deep breath, “Why did you pick me for the final project!? What the hell were you thinking?”

"In all honesty, I'm not sure." He replies scratching the back of his neck.

“Well you better start thinking. I know you probably thought you could just have me do all the work but I will make sure you do your half.”

Part of me hopes those words will scare him off but it doesn’t. He just smiles and says, “Okay, sounds good.”

“Put your number in my phone, I’ll text you my address. We can get started this weekend.” I huff shoving my phone into his hands. He types his number in quickly and walks off to his next class. I glance down at my phone and the name Cole :) stares back at me. It makes my face heat up, I’m not sure why.

Over the week we decided on a time for him to come over. Saturday at 11am. On Saturday I get myself ready, I even clean my room for him. Which is weird because I’m not sure if we’ll even be in there but my nervous energy had to go somewhere.

Suddenly it’s Saturday and Cole is late. At around 11:30 I begin to think he’s not showing up. I’m in a pit of my own anxiety because he’s not answering his phone. I’m trying to keep myself calm but it’s hard.

Finally at 11:45 I hear a knock at the door. When I open the door Cole is standing there. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” he says. “My phone died or I would have texted you. Practice ran late.”

“Right, okay.” I mumble. My mind mixing with anger and relief. “We can study in my room.”

He walks up with me and we are sitting on the bed together. We start brainstorming ideas and we are having trouble agreeing on anything. “Are you trying to be difficult? Why did you even choose me as your partner? First you’re late and now this.”

He sighs, “No Y/n, I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m trying to put in my input to make this work. I know you’re really smart but I also have some good ideas. I chose you because you’re really smart and I enjoy being around you. It’s the same reason as why I sit by you in class. Also I’m sorry I was late, it won’t happen again.”

I can’t but blush. It’s stupid how much I crave academic validation and him telling me I’m smart feeds into it. “Thank you Cole. How about we mix my first suggestion with your second. I think it could be really cool.”

We start working as a team instead of two bulls butting heads. It’s almost magic, he’s so much more dedicated and passionate then I thought he was.

After a while I’m starting to get tired of school work. “Do you want to call it quits for the day? We have a great start.”

“Yeah sure,” he replies. “Would you maybe want to hang out sometime? Like without all the school work.”

I smile, “I’m free the rest of the day if you want to watch a movie or something.”

“Yeah, yeah let’s do that!”

We sit down next to each other to watch the movie as we’re watching he gets a text from someone asking how it’s going with his ‘literature crush’. I’ve never felt better about a school project.

[morganwrites12672]

Finnick Odair x Reader

Requests are open

**

"Gentleman first," Eddie Trinket trilled at the audience. As if choosing children to choose to send to their certain death was anything to be happy about.

She reaches into the bowl and stirs it around. She then carefully chooses a name.

"Drift Y/L/N," she announces as peace keeps pry your brother at the crowd. He was only fifteen. He was strong but... he lacked in other areas. No balanace. He had the coordination of a new born-

"Ladies your up," Effie's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, " Aqua Carver,"

A frail looking girl starts to slowly walk forward. You knew her from school. Very quiet, always sat in the back. She wouldn't last a day in the games.

"I volunteer," you scream, trying to escape the grasp of the peacekeepers, "I volunteer as tribute," you give him a small smile to your brother, Drift, as peace keepers drag the both of you away to death.

**

Your brother barely talked and you couldn't figure out why, it could just be fear

A girl from school comes to visit. Your friend. Marine.

"You stupid, you are an idiot," she screams, pacing the room.

"What the hell, we have three minu-," she interupts you.

"You are beautiful, it doesn't matter what happens. If you win, they will make you sell your body like any other good looking tribute. And if you die I lose my friend," she rants on and on about how stupid it was.

You say nothing as the peace keeps drag her off.

You didn't think you were pretty. You looked in the mirror everyday and hated what you saw. Your skin was either to pale, or to tan. Your hair was either to dark or to light.

You had tried not eating for a little but that didn't help. All it did was screw up your appetite.

**

You hated finnick. He was rude, cocky, and so, sexual. Any time he could try to make you uncomfortable he did. It only worked on your brother turning light shades of pink and you scoffed or rolled your eyes.

You picked up your pace as the both of you walked to training.

You were good with a spear, had some knowledge of throwing knives. You should be good.

"You will need to study the foraging area if you want to live, sweetheart," Finnick says.

"Too bad I don't give a f-,"

"Stop, you to are acting like children. You are both eighteen for gods sake. When did the youngest become the only one with reason,"

**

Over the next few days you fell. Fell in love. Bad.

Every time Finnick smiled, you did to. Every time you smiled, Finnick smiled. You were both in love and the last people to find out were the two of you.

The secret touches. The soft smiles.

You were being prepped for the games. Your makeup crew and designers worked around the clock. Waxing, plucking, and prepping every little section of your body.

Finnick walked in and after a word for some alone time for confidential reasons, he walked up to you.

"You're about to leave. Be careful," and with that he kissed you. A soft, sweet, time freezing kiss. After a few seconds pulls his lips of yours and walks out the door.

Finnick worked around the clock, getting you sponsors and helping you win.

It was day seven, already having dealt with plenty of dificulties. One of the tributes from district 11 had tried to kill you. She missed but stabbed you in the shoulder. Finnick sent you a suture kit and stuff to clean the wound. Your brother got stung by tracker jackers, some ointment that helping him.

You had also received some bread.

You see a silver package falm down and quickly unwrap it, a trident.

"That's awesome," you brother says before you shush him. Drift could be rather careless

As you take back the Trident a sword pierces your brothers neck. As he falls bleeding and limp to the ground, Lux the district one girl smirks at you and pulls out her sword. You hear the boom of a canon.

You are quick to decapitate her with your new weapon. You smirk as her head falls from the lifeless body, and you hear the familiar confirmation of your kill. You pick up a small yellow flower and place it on her chest.

It was like a thank you for letting you live. It wasn't her fault she wanted to win, there would only be one victor. If your brother couldn't win you would.

You can't take it, "Why him. He was supposed to win," you fall to your knees and start sobbing. You realize the other eleven tributes might hear you and cover your mouth as you violently sob.

You curl up under the base of a tree and quietly sob. Your brother should have been the one mourning. Earlier, before his body had been taken, you had placed a blue flower on his corpse. He loved blue.

After a few hours of lying there you have been through all five stages of grief. Now you were going to explore the sixth. revenge.

You osly trekked through the woods. After stopping for a water break with some berries, you resume.

After God knows how long you find a lone girl. The blonde from district 11. You quickly kill her.

A simple knife to the femoral artery and you count down from ten as you watch her scream in pain as the life leaves her eyes. You hear the canon boom and know it is over.

You place a single yellow flower on her chest, "Thank you,"

You climb a tree as several careers show up. Only two are left, but they have another with them.

You jump down and sink a knife into one of their stomachs, going into kill mode all you see is red and remember three distinct canons. You place a yellow flower on each of their chests and leave.

You are down to the last tribute, having already killed eight, this will be number nine. You hear a canon go off as you are whisked away to be crowned Victor.

Finnick greets you with open arms. It has been a week. Most of the interviews are over. You had a spare moment before meeting with Snow.

"I love you, I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it, sweetheart," Finnick says into your neck.

You pull him back to look at you, "Love you to Finn," and with that a deep kiss is ignited.

Finnick pulls away breathless, "So. Sweetheart, this mean we are together," he teases. Smiling at the thought of the begining rivalry.

You walk away with promises of meeting tonight at your room, midnight.

You enter Snow's office and take a seat.

"I have business to attend so this needs to be quick, " he states, "I have a program for certain victors, Finnick Odair, Enorbia," you don't have to listen to the rest to know where this is going.

"You want me to be a prostitute, and I say no, you have nothing to take from me," you state as you turn to walk away Snow says somthing.

"Finnick Odair. I will have his death ordered unless you agree," you don't even turn around to see his smug little, stupid smirk. You know it's there.

"Fine," you hiss and walk out slamming the door.

When Finnick knocks before entering your door, you give a soft come in.

"How did the meeting go," you can tell he is more anxious than you.

He sits next to you and cautiously takes your hand. You grip it in yours as you explain.

He tries to comfort you but you don't need it, " I'm not upset Finny. I knew it was coming, as soon as I reaped, I knew. Are you sure you're okay with it?"

He looks genuinely stunned, "It took me weeks to come to terms with myself over the idea. Its not your fault, it's not cheating. It's keeping me alive,"

With that you ignite a gentle, needy kiss.

You would always be happy if you had each other.

@sakuraazharuno hope you enjoy this!

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Ah, hello, hello! You KNOW who this is, haha.

I - and the rest of society - would greatly appreciate your thoughts on Aemond's asshole. What does it look like? Is it hairy? Clean? Does he like a little wink-wink action in the backdoor borehole? Does it taste like candycanes and sweet dreams? Tell me EVERYTHING.

Give me the DEETS, bro.

*Joe Goldberg voice* Hello, you.

Right, before I delve into the particulars of Aemond One-Eye's brown eye, I feel I should share an anecdote with you all, to prove I have the credentials to speak at length about such delicate matters.

It was the summer of 2019, before my husband and I got married, and we were living together in sin (*gasps*). We found this shitty knock off of Street Fighter and were playing it. We decided that, to make things interesting, whoever lost a round would have to do a forfeit. My then-boyfriend/now-husband inevitably lost the first round, as I am the queen of button smashing. I decided that, as his forfeit, he would show his asshole to me. So, my 6'4 hunk of a man stands in the corner of our living room, the "di-di-di-doo-doo-doo" of this shitty Street Fighter game load screen still playing away to itself in the background, pulls down his pants and presents his balloon knot to me. I have seen anuses before, but this is the first time I have ever really taken the time to properly study one. It was lightly creased, darker around the outside and pinkish towards the middle. I could draw that thing from memory.

Anyway, the point is, I am essentially a learned doctor when it comes to the ancient and well respected practice of asshole descripions, so you can take everything I say as fact.

Aemond asshole facts below the cut.

I know I keep going on about Ewan Mitchell in High Life, but honestly, you can take all your frame of reference for nudie Aemond from that movie.

Look at that ass. It is simply an ass that won't quit. Like two muscular scoops of vanilla ice cream. Baby boy is not skipping leg day in the training yard, that's for sure.

But what if we were to part those muscular cheeks and delve into what sits between them?

As @lady-phasma very rightfully headcanons, Aemond has never taken a dump in his life. Can you imagine this man sat in a privy or doing something as disgusting as wiping his ass? Of course you can't, because he doesn't poop. Everyone knows that pooping is shameful and that is effectively concentrated evil coming out the back of you.

With this in mind, his asshole is CLEAN as a whistle and perfect for licking. It's likely a little ruddier in colour compared with the rest of his skin - a similar dark pinkish tone to his nutsack and bellend.

He does have hairs around his ring piece, though they are white blonde and baby fine, so they won't get in the way should you decide to indulge in some spelunking.

Aemond tastes like testicle sweat, if he's been out riding Vhagar. Or pussy juice, if he's been inside riding you.

Aemond will never explicitly ask you to eat his asshole, however, should you choose to do so you'll have him a whining, drooling mess in no time. The moment your tongue breaches that tight little ring of muscle he'll pop off so hard it will hit the pillows.

Of course he will never return the favour, because you poop and he finds that revolting. He can't risk getting pink eye when he only has one eye to begin with. Gross. He'd rather feed you to Vhagar than chance getting a whinnet of shit stuck in his teeth.

I'll end this by saying: if you have ever pooped in your life then Aemond Targaryen hates you. He wants you dead.

If you made it this far, god bless you and thank you for reading.

[mrs-johansson]

Strangers in the night - Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Part 11:

Minimal light gave us vision in the room. My eyes were studying every inch of the room. The pictures on the wall, how the light only made me able to see half of them. The bookshelf by the window is filled with colorful books. The walk-in closet was completely dark but the door was opened.

The window was just tilted so the fresh night air started to fill the room. The cold breeze ran over my skin, giving me goosebumps and I pulled myself closer to Scarlett’s somehow still-warm body. I slipped under her chin, and I put a leg over hers. “Want me to close the window?” Her rough voice sent shivers down my spine which she definitely felt. “No, it’s okay,” I murmured but because I still had goosebumps, Scarlett pulled the covers over my shoulder and basically tucked me in, making me blush and all smiley.

Her hand stayed on my back though. Caressing my skin with her soft fingertips while her other hand was intertwined with mine, laying across her stomach. “You think it will go smoothly with Rose?” I asked as I followed the line of the collarbone with my eyes. “What do you mean?” “Do you think she will like me?” Nervously looking around, Scarlett’s hold tightened around me as I felt her head lift so I lifted mine too. Propped myself on my right arm, keeping my other hand in hers but I could see her now. “Why wouldn’t she like you? She seemed to like you at New Year’s,” her left hand came up to brush a piece of hair out of my face but then it stuck on the nape of my neck, caressing the skin. “I know but I’m not sure it stuck. I’m not really a people person so I don’t know how to be with kids,” I rambled nervously but Scarlett was quick to interfere. “You are definitely a people person, you just have social anxiety so you don’t see that. And you are the most lovable person so you have nothing to worry about. Plus she will be painting and you will help her, it’s a win for the both of you, and for me also,” smiling at her words I gently bumped my elbow into her. “Why for you?”

Her eyes were puzzling over my face as her pointing finger still smoothed over the skin of my neck. A small curve crept up to her lips and I couldn’t help but blush under her gaze. I felt vulnerable and not just because I was in her arms naked but because with those green eyes she saw right through my soul and that scared me, but I felt safe because it was her.

“Because it’s you that helps her and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

***

“Just choose a color Scarlett, it’s not that difficult.” Rose and I were waiting for Scarlett for over 20 minutes to choose a goddamn color to paint her flower but she just couldn’t pick. “But I can’t decide,” she said softly, looking at the different colors. “I will choose for you,” I took the brush out of her hand and she looked up with curious green eyes. “You trust me with the color of your flower?” I asked and she just nodded with the cutest smile. “Close your eyes and don’t peek,” I instructed and she lifted her glasses to put her hand over her eyes.

I looked down at Rose and saw how well she was in her own little world, playing with the clean and dry brushes. “Want to help me pick Mama a color for her flower?” I asked the little girl and her attention quickly turned to me and stood up and brushed her little palm against Scarlett’s cheek who instantly smiled at the touch. “Come on, you can choose a color,” I held my hand out for Rose and she gently took it, before taking a seat on my thigh, taking the brush out of my hand. “What do you say about this one?” I pointed to a lighter shade of yellow and she shook her head. “This?” I tried a purplish one and she didn’t like that either, but then she pointed at a brighter blue color with her small finger. “That’s very pretty, you want that one?” “Yes,” her cute little voice made me smile. “Tell Mama she can open her eyes,” I tried my very best to communicate with a 3-year-old with my best abilities. “Mama, eyes open!” Rose stood up, almost stepping on the palette but missed by just a little. She got to Scarlett and held her face between her small little hands. “I can open them?” Asked Scarlett, and Rose said louder than she can.

She took her hand away and looked at the color, pulling Rose close to her and giving kisses all over her face. “What a pretty color, you picked it out for me, didn’t you?” Her daughter nodded with a big smile and I just couldn’t help but smile at their interaction.

I locked eyes with Scarlett and seeing the joy that this little human brings her made my heart melt.

After a while, we finished our paintings and until they dried, I suggested we eat something.

Made some coffee for Scarlett and me, and for Rose, I made hot chocolate. “What do you guys want to eat?” I asked as I put the two mugs in front of the two blonds. “Pancakes!” Rose shouted and I smiled at how her eyes got small by the big smile on her face. “You okay with that?” I looked at Scarlett for permission and when she nodded I got to work.

While I was making the snack, Rose was telling us all about preschool. How she loves to be there, and play with her friends but she also loves to be with her parents, and sometimes she just wants to play alone. “Do you guys paint in school?” I asked. “Yes, but I like it better here,” she said and I immediately turned around to see her play with the clean brushes that she took from the painting room.

I shared a look with Scarlett, and she was actually blushing at what her daughter said. “I’m glad you like it here and guess what pancakes are almost done. Would you like some fruit with it?” I questioned Rose and she nodded. “What do you say, baby?” Scar brushed over her daughter’s hair and the little girl looked up at her before looking at me. “Yes, thank you,” she said shyly. “You’re very welcome.”

After we sat down to eat, we fell into light conversation. “Y/n?” Rose spoke as she was balancing a bigger piece of pancake on her fork. “Yeah?” “What do you work?” She asked with her big curious green-blue eyes, just like her mom’s.

“I uhm… I play characters in movies. I act like someone else, and people go see these movies in theaters, on a big screen. And that’s what your Mama works too,” I explained, and seeing her put this information together, it was very adorable.

“What characters?” She asked before stuffing her face with pancakes. “Well, the last one I played was an older girl than you. She was learning about how life works and how you do things as you get older and older. She falls in love but she feels sad also. But then she was happy at the end.” “What’s her name?” “Lady Bird, it’s a strange name, right?” I smiled as she was surprised by the name. “No, I like it.”

***

By the afternoon, we were all laying on the couch. Rose’s head was on my lap while her legs were dangling in Scarlett’s lap. Tom & Jerry was playing on the Tv and even though Rose had fallen asleep a while ago, we didn’t switch from the cartoon. “You know… she really likes you,” Scarlett said, making me look away from the Tv. “I’m trying my best,” I smiled at her, and seeing the relief in her eyes just made me happy. “Thank you,” she got hold of my hand and gently squeezed it, with a tight smile on her blushing face.

“When are you leaving?” Asked Scarlett. “On Tuesday. Night I think.” “Then let me take you out on Monday, we’ll probably meet in Prague, I’d like to use our time,” she said and it was my turn to blush. “I would love that, but you know I will come visit on some weekends or my off days,” I answered. “And I will be visiting also.” I looked at her since I was surprised. “Really?” “Of course, I want to spend time with you.” I got flustered in no time, glancing away and hoping she doesn’t see my teenage-like behavior.

Soon Rose woke up and was still tired so Scarlett thought the best was for her to get home and get her to bed.

“Thank you for this amazing day, Rose, did you like painting with Y/n?” Scar looked down at her daughter in her arms as her little head was resting on her shoulder. “Yeah,” she mumbled while fidgeting with her mother’s shirt. “I’m glad. I hope you had fun too,” I glanced at Scarlett.

“Gosh, are you kidding? I had a blast, my two favorite people.” Damn… I’m one of them, that’s like… makes me all flustered. “I’m happy you guys came over,” I said with a light smile, as I was trying to hold back my blushing face.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” Spoke Scarlett and I blinked back to the moment. “Yeah, that’ll be great. Let me walk you guys out,” I walked forward, opening the door for the two.

Rose already had eyes closed again, mouth slightly open. “Thank you again,” Scarlett stepped closer, her free hand moving up to my waist. I placed my hand on her arm, softly caressing her skin. “You’re always welcome.”

She started leaning in and before I moved too, I glanced down at Rose checking if she was still sleeping. She was, so I kissed Scarlett, my hand coming up to cup her cheek.

As we let go, Scarlett squeezed my waist softly and we said goodbye before they left. I closed the door as she rolled out of my driveway, thinking I’m the luckiest woman alive.