#I’ve been wanting to draw this scene for a while now

[simplyholl]

The Bet

Summary: Loki has an interesting punishment when you lose a bet.

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Vibrating panties.

A/N: Inspired by that scene in The Ugly Truth.

See my Masterlist Here

“You can’t be serious.” You take the garment from Loki, wishing you could smack the smirk off his face. “You lost the game. So you have to wear them.” He explains, crossing his arms as he leans against your doorway.

“I’ve never lost a game of Uno in my life. You were cheating.” You exaggerate, trying to talk your way out of it. “Put them on. I’ll know if you don’t.” He walks away, leaving you alone.

You and Loki were always competitive with each other, placing stupid bets on frivolous games. Two days ago, you were playing Uno when Loki wanted to make the game interesting. You had beaten him three times already, so you thought you had it in the bag.

If you win Loki had to spend an entire day doing your chores naked. He hated menial tasks, oftentimes he would pay someone else to do his cleaning and laundry. So you knew he would hate it. As for the naked part, you had eyes. You might not get along all the time, but Loki was beautiful.

You had let your dishes pile up, your laundry basket was overflowing, your floors were sticky. You had been busy with missions and Nick Fury made you attend meetings all week so you were behind.

Loki smirked when you told him what you wanted if you won. “If you want to see me naked, you only have to ask.” The devilish smile that accompanied his quip made your skin heat up from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“If I win, you will wear the clothing of my choosing to the meeting on Friday.” You accepted, he would probably make you wear a burlap sack or a silly costume. You weren’t easily embarrassed, so whatever he picked wouldn’t be an issue. Fury would be mad with your theatrics, but you had been doing his bidding all week. He owed you.

The game had been going well. You had three draw four cards in your possession, using them strategically. Then the unthinkable happened. Loki won, placing a red card with a number two on top of your card. He had to have cheated somehow. He didn’t even know how to play until a few days prior when Steve taught him.

With only seconds to spare, you slid your panties down your legs replacing them with the pair Loki gave you. They were black and lacy. You were a little unsure why he wanted you to wear these specific panties. He had to be up to something. He wasn’t the God of Mischief for nothing.

You put them on, feeling something hard under the fabric. You straighten your sun dress and fluff your hair. You look at your phone, you were already late. You didn’t have time to take them off and inspect them. You weren’t a sore loser either, so you would wear them to the meeting.

You rushed down the hall to the elevator. You get on with three others, from their white coats you could tell they worked in the labs. You waited impatiently as the elevator stopped on the tenth floor letting them off. You were five minutes late now. You dreaded whatever smart ass remark Fury would have for you.

Finally, the elevator stopped on the sixth floor. You rushed out, running down the hall to the conference room. Fury stopped speaking to turn and greet you. “It’s about damn time.” He said, returning his attention to the smart board behind him.

You looked around the table for Natasha. She always saved a seat for you. But on her left sat Thor and Loki was on her right. The only empty seat was beside him. You curse him in your head as you walk around the table to take your seat. You wonder how he got Thor to switch from his usual seat beside Steve.

Fury starts talking again, calling on Tony to explain some new technology he was working on for all of you. You try to hide your yawn behind your hand. This stuff was always so boring. Why did you have to be here while they discussed how cool they thought this was?

You try to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, afraid you would fall asleep. A small vibration from your panties knocked the tiredness right out of you. It caught you off guard, but it was tolerable. You turn your head to look at Loki who is staring straight ahead, completely focused on Fury.

That little shit. You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, so you raised your hand asking a question and pretending you couldn’t feel yourself growing wetter. You sneak another glance at him, his prominent nose scrunching as he keeps his eyes forward. The vibration speeds up once, twice, three times. You ball your hands into fists, nails digging into your palm.

The device rolls in waves against you, brushing your clit. You bite your lip until you taste blood to keep from making a sound. It hums rhythmically, each pulse bringing you closer to orgasm. You can’t hear what Bruce says when he stands to pass out folders filled with the layout of Tony’s design.

He hands it to you, expecting you to take it from him. But you can’t, one hand is wrapped around the side of your chair, the other is clawing at Loki’s leg silently pleading with him to stop this madness. When you don’t reach for the folder, Bruce looks you over, taking in your frazzled appearance and the bead of sweat sliding down your neck. He mouths “You okay?” You nod a little too quickly and he sets the folder in front of you.

Loki opened your folder, bringing out the page Fury was discussing. His gaze lingers on your face for a second, and you think he’s finally satisfied and going to turn it off. The glimmer of mischief shines in his eyes as he returns his full attention to Fury. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not yell in frustration. Then you realize his momentary kindness was only to distract you.

The vibration hits its peak, and you lose control. Your fist slams on the table. All eyes are on you. “Do you have something you’d like to add?” Fury asks, assuming your interruption was about the stupid technology you had no idea about. The ripples flutter against your clit, your lower stomach clenching with the onset of orgasm.

“Yes!” You stand up surprising yourself and Loki who lifts a brow. You can’t think clearly so you hope walking will help. You pace the area behind Natasha, every lift of your leg moves your panties, causing the vibe to reach new angles. “I love this! I love it! I lo-ove it!” Your voice raises a few octaves. Tony smiles, excited someone is showing interest in his hard work besides Bruce and Fury.

“This is the kind of enthusiasm I expect from the rest of you.” He says pointing an accusing finger at the others. “What do you love about it?” He prompts you. You stop behind Loki’s chair, he turns to watch the show you were putting on. You clutch the top of his chair, as the vibration sends you over the edge.

“It’s the best! God, the best!” You look in Loki’s eyes as your legs tremble. “Oh fuck! It’s incredible!” Tony is beaming, hands coming together to clap. “Thank you! This is the kind of reaction I was wanting.” The vibration finally stops, as you wobble a few steps to your chair. Loki gives you his hand to help you sit down. You reluctantly take it, settling back in.

The meeting was finally over five minutes later. Everyone rushed to leave except for you and Loki. “Asshole.” You playfully slap his arm. He stands, gathering his phone and folder. “If you need assistance cleaning up that mess you made” He gestures to your legs, “I’d be happy to help.” He flashes that irresistible smile before leaving you to recover in the conference room.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @lokischambermaid @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15 @jiyascepter @daddieslut1 @macnbriee

[meltedmush]

The noodles scene from the airplane extras!

[13atoms]

Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)

Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean

Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.

Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)

The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.

You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.

It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.

Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.

Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.

“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”

You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.

“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”

“Exactly.”

“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”

Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.

“Not necessarily.”

“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”

His eyes snapped from you to his phone.

“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”

You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.

“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.

There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.

“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.

It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.

Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.

“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”

The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.

It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.

When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.

Spencer.

He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.

“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”

“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”

You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.

“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”

He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.

Oh, Spencer.

“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.

“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”

“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.

 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.

���God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.

You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.

“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.

You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.

“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.

A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.

“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”

“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”

“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”

There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.

A rare breed.

You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.

You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.

 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.

You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.

“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”

The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.

When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.

“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.

“I think so.”

You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.

“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”

Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.

“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”

“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.

Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.

“I mean, look at it!”

You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.

Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.

“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.

“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.

“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”

Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.

“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”

“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”

He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.

“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”

Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.

“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”

He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.

“Are you okay?” you asked finally.

“I’m okay.”

You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.

 “Spencer…”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.

“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”

He didn’t say anything.

“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”

“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”

Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.

“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.

Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.

“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”

“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”

“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”

The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.

“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”

 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”

“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”

“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”

You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?

“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.

You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.

“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”

“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”

You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”

“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.

You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.

“I’ve got no idea.”

Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.

“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”

You frowned.

“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”

“Handsome?”

In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.

“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”

You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.

“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”

Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.

[slytherinslut0]

theodore nott. | you’re mine tonight

summary: theodore nott is always willing to be used by you. if you’re going to use somebody, just let it be him.

word count: 800

tags: headcanons that once again turned into this. i try to keep things short, apparently im physically incapable🥹 nothing crazy here other then implied fwb, slight angst, reader heartbreak kinda cuz cormac sux, theo being good with words as always, make out session at the end

Theodore Nott, who watches as you and your situationship, Cormac, argue every single day.

Theodore Nott who sees you cry constantly as a result of these arguments, tonight no unorthodox exception as you come storming back into the Slytherin common room with tears streaming down your cheeks, kicking off your heels and throwing yourself down next to him on a secluded corner couch.

Your eyes, brimming with anguish and pleading for solace, lock onto his, a look he knows all too damn well.

Theodore Nott, who doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to pry, who already knows exactly why you’re here, sitting next to him, when you could be literally anywhere else. He reads the story in your tear-streaked cheeks and your trembling hands. It’s a scene he’s witnessed so many times he’s lost count.

Theodore Nott, who merely closes his book, runs a hand through his tousled hair, and rests the other on your knee. PDA is off the table since you don’t want Cormac to find out—even though he’s been sneaking off with more girls than you have fingers on both hands—so Theo simply looks at you with those steady, knowing eyes and whispers, “your dorm or mine?”

You swallow, grateful gaze shifting toward the door. It’s always so fucking easy with Theo.

“Always yours,” you murmur, rising to your feet and picking up your discarded heels. Without waiting for his response, you start toward his dorm, certain he’s right behind you. He always is.

Theodore Nott, who shuts the door and locks it behind you as the two of you enter. The lights are dim, the shadows of the Black Lake ripple against the walls, and moonlight flickers throughout the room. Theodore Nott, who notices the look on your face well before you do, who can already sense the words that are about to slip past your teeth.

Theo knows well enough by now that you only come to him when you’re hurt, and you never feel good about it until he reassures you it’s okay. He sees it in the subtle shift of your gaze, the furrow of your brow, the tremble of your lips—a silent plea for forgiveness he’s already long granted you.

“I’m sorry, Theo…”

Theodore Nott, who understands you just need someone to hold you right now. Someone who will look at you with warmth, with desire, with need, someone who will give you all of himself in this moment. A shoulder to cry on, bedsheets to lie on.

“It’s okay, bella, don’t apologize…”

Theodore Nott who steps closer, his hands stern yet gentle as they cup your cheeks, drawing your gaze to his. Reverent blue eyes glisten like two oceans, drowning you in their warmth. Theodore Nott who brushes the damp from your cheeks with his thumbs before leaning down, grazing his lips over yours, feather-light.

“I’ve said it about a million times, you know I’ve already told you—“

Theodore Nott, who interrupts his own sentence by pressing his lips to yours, inhaling a sharp breath as your salty sweetness ignites in his mouth. Tears mingle with your cherry lip gloss, his hands sliding back into your hair, and he’s lost and then found again—as though you’re the only beacon in a world shrouded in darkness, the answer to all his unspoken questions.

Theodore Nott, who needs this, who wants this just as much, if not more, than you do.

“—if you’re gonna’ use somebody…use me…”

Theodore Nott who practically growls those words into your mouth as fervour takes over, as hunger roars harder and stronger with each passing second. One hand grips your hair, holding your lips to his while the other falls to your blouse, slender fingers undoing the buttons with a speed that leaves you breathless.

“…I’m so fucking willing to be somebody you need…”

His fingers deftly slip the last button free, his hand sliding beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of your skin. The touch sends shivers through you, your body responding to his every move. His lips trail down your jaw, pressing hot kisses along your neck, making you gasp. Theodore's grip on your hair tightens just enough to tilt your head back, exposing more of your throat to his eager mouth.

The room seems to shrink around you, the flickering moonlight casting shadows that dance across the walls, mirroring the wild rhythm of your hearts. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense.

"You drive me insane…how much I fucking want you drives me insane," he admits, his breath hitching. "Every time I see you with him…every time I see what he does to you…it kills me…”

Theodore Nott whose words are like gasoline to an open flame, igniting a fierce need within you, scorching while simultaneously taming the desire to be desired. Theodore Nott who groans as you clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to close any distance between you as he shifts you around and begins backing you up toward his bed.

"Show me, Theo," you whisper. "Show me how much you want me."

With a growl, Theodore crashes his lips back to yours, the kiss searing and urgent. He moves with you effortlessly, guiding you towards the bed, never breaking the contact. As you fall back onto the soft sheets, his body follows, covering you completely. His hands roam over your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, each touch more intoxicating than the last.

"You're mine tonight," it’s a promise. Not a question. "No one else's. Just mine."

pretty divider made by: @saradika-graphics

[thebestofoneshots]

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT | TEASER

Piring: R.L. x S.B. x reader Prompt: Sirius and you are art students and you’ve gotten an assignment, a nude painting, but you can’t paint each other. Trying to convict Remus to model for you was hard enough, but painting him, while he looks so damn stunning, might prove a harder endeavour to accomplish. Warnings: the complete story will contain smut (this has some mild teasing and a few nudе scenes)

“So?” Sirius asked as he leaned onto Remus, “would you do it?” 

“Pretty please?” you asked with a small pout and a few blinks. 

Remus sighed, “Why don’t you just paint each other?” 

Both you and Sirius had been trying to convince Remus to be your nude model for an assignment for the last 20 minutes. He was your best friend, and both you and Sirius had always wanted to use him as a model, but had never been too keen to do it, not even clothed. But you needed him now. 

“We can’t do someone we’ve fucked,” Sirius said with a sigh, “We’d already done it otherwise.” 

“Just use each other and draw a face from a magazine,” Remus offered. 

“It won’t work either,” you responded now, “We’ve both been models for the class, they know our bodies. We wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t need you, please Moony!” Remus looked to the side, licking his lips before biting on the bottom one and sighing, however could he say no to the two of you.

“Okay,” he whispered.

(...)

You took your hoodie off and then, but it wasn’t until you took a hold of your shirt and flipped it over your head that Remus realised what was going on. Your hands were behind your bra when he averted his gaze to the side completely blushed. “Sirius, If you’re painting her, can I leave?” 

“Of course not,” Sirius said simply, “I’m painting the both of you.” 

“You what?” 

“Eros and Psyche, remember?” 

“But you said you couldn’t paint people you’ve fucked,” he retorted in a rather accusing manner. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’ll switch her hair colour and you’ll cover her face.” 

“You never said I’d have to pose with your naked girlfriend!” 

“It’s okay Rem, I don’t mind, I’ve been a nude model for the class a couple of times.” 

Remus, as he would naturally turn to look at you when you spoke, but quickly turned his head to the side when he realised you were now completely naked. 

But I do! He thought as he tried to think of anything other than the curve of your breasts. Naked grandma, naked grandma.

You eyed Sirius, “Maybe we can–“ you started, biting your lip. 

“Nonsense. We’re all adults, go on.” 

You gave Sirius a stern look and he gave you back an equally determined one, nodding towards Remus, a clear indication for you to walk his way. 

You took a deep breath but did what he wanted anyway. Walking towards Remus and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, If you really don’t want to do this-“

Remus’ head snapped your way, he focused his eyes on yours as best as he could, “No, I– I just– I wasn’t mentally prepared.” 

You smiled and tilted your head. You could see the self-restraint he was using not to look at your chest, Sirius was really trying not to cackle behind you as he sharpened his pencils, “You can look,” you said, “you’re gonna see them anyway Rem.” He gave you a frustrated frown. You smiled teasingly in return. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked. He was about ready to just stare for half a second and then move on with his life but he couldn’t quite look away. Not when he saw them perk up for him, his warm breath so close to you causing such a reaction. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sirius said with a smile from behind the easel. The kind of confident smile of one who knew he could touch them whenever he wanted. 

Remus cleared his throat and looked at Sirius. “Go on with your painting, yeah?” 

“You haven’t even posed,” he retorted with a smile. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “where do you want me?”

Remus tried not to think of those words, and not to memorise them either. He didn’t want to have dreams about it.

(...)

“Not really,” you said honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder a little more, that was something you had done often, with clothes, though. “I’ve never modelled with anyone other than Sirius. I only said I would because it would be you.” 

“You what?” Remus asked, you accommodated and your lips accidentally brushed against his neck, he felt the blush spreading, he was losing control. He couldn’t keep thinking of a naked grandma when he had you pressed against him, whispering on his neck, your warm breath against his skin igniting him like a match against dry leaves. 

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT IS OUT NOW!!

Click on the link to read the full version

[dovedewdrop]

Scratch My Back

Masterlist

Joel Miller x reader

word count: 889

Summary: The tide is pulling you under, just like it has plenty of times before. Your husband helps you communicate.

A/N: I’ve been struggling with my mental health & looking after myself for a long, long time and I was getting myself all psyched up to get a shower but I didn’t end up getting in and decided to write this lil thing that I’ve been thinking about for a while! I hope you enjoy it and if anyone out there is reading this and is struggling too, just know that you are not alone and that if Joel Miller were real, he would scratch your back❤️

Also thank you so much for 100 followers🥹🫶🏻 really brightened up my spirits a lil bit💓

Warnings: No Outbreak. Depiction of poor mental health. Sadness. One big loving man (it’s Joel Miller) (Not a warning but I didn’t want it to seem all doom and gloom😅) No use of Y/N.

To Joel, it was just a Wednesday, your day off. To you, the ceiling was caving in. Before he left for work you were sound asleep, your thoughts at bay, laying still against the sand, he placed a gentle kiss to your temple before rolling out of bed. Now that you were awake your thoughts were thrashing against the cliffs, the mental whiplash you were facing ultimately draining your body of all its energy.

You watch the clock on the bedside table blink from one minute to the next. You thought about all if the things you should probably be doing; showering, tidying the house, preparing that home cooked meal you’d been promising your husband for over a week but all you could do was slip in and out of sleep, that was the safe option, the one that would keep you somewhat sane until he returned. You didn’t want to bother him, didn’t want to text him those three words because you knew he would stop everything for you, everything would be put on hold so that he could soothe you and you didn’t want to add that onto the ever-growing list of things to feel bad about. So you waited.

“Honey?” His voice reverberated off the walls, the sound of his gentle tone floated up the stairs. You didn’t have the energy to shout back, the sound of his boots hitting the wooden steps told you that it wouldn’t be long until he was by your side anyway. He took in the sight of the drawn curtains, the sight of you facing them, still in your t-shirt and underwear and you felt the bed dip behind you, the warmth of his body encompassing yours, his scent filling your scenes. 

“Something happen?” A gentle kiss placed to your shoulder blade, the feeling of his lungs emptying and filling behind your back soothing you. You shook your head, allowing a silence to draw over you both as Joel’s arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you further back into the curve of his body. He was always so patient with you, so tender.

“Scratch my back.”

Scratch my back, a cry for help. A promise made between two lovers. A rule established when you’d first started dating. Joel knew that you struggled with your mental health, you’d opened up to some extent, brushing him off with a ‘I’m having a tough day but I’ll be ok x’ text in the beginning, even then he gave you your space. 

One week in spring however, everything was not okay. He hadn’t heard from you in four days, no text and definitely no phone calls. At first he thought that this was your way of letting him know you were no longer interested and selfishly, he couldn’t let it end that way. So after days of mulling it over and chewing his bottom lip raw, he drove over to your apartment and that’s where he found you, dark circles engulfing your eyes, threatening to swallowing them whole, hair unwashed, apartment flooded in gloom.

He took a bath with you, washed your hair as best he could. The spring air still had a slight chill to it so he’d made sure your new set of pyjamas were on the radiator ready for bed and he laid with you in silence until you turned into his chest and he felt the wet of your tears seep into the fabric of his shirt. 

“You don’t have to talk to me.” He pressed a kiss into your hairline. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to talk to me, I mean obviously you can, when you feel comfortable and ready to but there is something I want you to do for me baby,” another soft kiss. Your eyes travelled up his face to finally look him in his eyes, those soft brown eyes that made you fall in love with him in the first place. All you could do was give a small nod, you would do anything he asked. “I want you to come up with a word or a phrase,” he continued, “so that when things get bad and you don’t feel like you can talk about it…” he trailed off, his hands drawing shapes up and down the length of your spine.

“Like a safe word?” He let out a huff of air at that, a small smile adorning his face.

“Yeah, kinda like a safe word, so I know that you’re safe,” his palm came to rest on your cheek, thumb cupping your jaw, “up here,” and his fingers tapped gently on the side of your temple.

“Scratch my back,” It was soft, the way it came out, tears threatening to spill over, “because if you promise to scratch mine, i’ll always scratch yours.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling then, the last thing you wanted was for Joel to see you like this and to become his burden, but the way he’d shown you such care and compassion made your head feel a little less foggy, you wanted to promise that you could do that in return, that it wouldn’t just be him constantly looking after you.

“Oh sweet angel.” Both of his hands were cupping your cheeks now, pressing a light kiss to your nose and then your lips.

[ladyinwriting18]

A Loyal Death Eater (Severus Snape x Reader)

Summary: Severus comes home to find he's been left a gift from The Dark Lord--you.

Words: 4901 Warnings: PIV, Human Given As A Gift, Master/Servant, Pet Names, Fingering, Oral Male Receiving, Dirty Talk. Author's Note: Hiiii if you know me then welcome back--WILL I EVER STICK TO ONE FANDOM TO WRITE FOR? The answer is no lol If this is your first time reading my writing then welcome! I hope you enjoy my first ever Snape one-shot!

Severus Snape is tired. So very tired. Tired of living this double life. Death Eater. The Order. Following Dumblerdor’s orders. Secretly protecting Harry. Funneling particular information to Voldemort for the sake of keeping up appearances. All while teaching potions. The vein in his temple throbs at the mere thought of his students. He doesn’t want to think about them now. He doesn't want to think about anything. All Severus Snape wants is to bury his face into a pillow. And that’s exactly his plan as he walks into his home and heads up the stairs towards his room... That is until he notices the piece of parchment stuck to the bedroom door. He’s immediately on high alert. Tension has his spine straight and his shoulders up by his ears. With his wand drawn, he creeps closer, ready to hex whatever intruder has managed to sneak into his home. But the signature at the bottom gives him pause. Why the hell was The Dark Lord leaving him handwritten notes? Dark eyes scan the entire letter. “To my most loyal Death Eater. I’ve left you a gift. A reward for all of your hard work. Use it however you wish and dispose of it when you’re done with it.”  Severus raises a brow. It? What exactly was waiting for him on the other side of the door?

There was only one way to find out. With a heavy sigh, he pushes open the door, but what he finds stops him dead in his tracks. A woman sits kneeling on the floor beside his bed. Your head is bowed with your hands placed palms up atop your thighs. But the most shocking thing is that you’re completely naked except for a black and green garter belt on your right thigh. “What is the meaning of this?” he commands, still in a mild state of shock at the scene before him. You, however, do not stir, keeping your body still. “Hello, Master. It is a pleasure to meet you. How may I serve you tonight?”  Your voice is warm…feminine…inviting. It draws Severus in and has him stepping into the room. But the closer he gets to you, the more your words sink in. “Forgive me…serve me?” You nod. “Yes, Master. I belong to you now. For as long as you want me.” The realization hits him like a bludger to the face. “You’re…my gift.” You nod again. “From the Dark Lord.” “And why would the Dark Lord send me a human as a gift?” The disgust in his voice isn’t directed at you, but you respond nonetheless. “To use as you see fit. I am yours and any desire my Master has is mine to fulfill.” He doesn’t know a single soul alive or dead who wouldn’t be tempted by such an offer. And though his heart had been lowered into the ground on the same day that Lily’s body was, he is still a man. A man with needs that he hasn’t even dreamt of allowing himself to feel. He’s standing directly in front of you now. “Look at me,” he commands You eagerly obey, and look up at him with large doe eyes. You stare at him with your gaze filled with willingness. He searches your eyes, attempting to find even an ounce of fear or disgust but finds nothing but devotion. As if you truly want nothing more than to serve.

His mouth goes dry and all of his body’s blood supply seems to be traveling south to his cock. This is wrong. Who knows what the Dark Lord had threatened you with…or where he had stolen you from. But everything about you screams submission. It awakens a darker side of himself. One that he hasn’t felt stirring since he was a young, newly appointed Death Eater. Back then Lucius Malfoy would hire girls and throw secret parties down in the dungeons below his estate. It was at these “parties” that Severus found his proclivity for knots…and magically binding girls to the ceiling so he could fuck them until they were begging to cum. It’s a time that he wishes he could scrub clean. Not only from his mind but from the history books of his life. Shame had accompanied him at those parties because he knew this was a part of him that he couldn’t share with Lilly. Even if James Potter had never been in the picture and Lilly had somehow been his. She was too lovely and sweet for that sort of depravity. She would have never enjoyed such things. And he would never— “Master?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, his eyes focusing back on you just as you reach out to take his hand. Your grip is so light, almost as if you’re worried your touch will offend him. “I want to please you. Want to give you whatever it is you need. Please? All I want is to be a good girl for you.” A good girl. His cock throbs. How you knew exactly what to say, baffles him. Perhaps you were a skilled Legilimens—allowing you a peek into his thoughts. Either way, you said the phrase that never failed to stop him in his tracks. He grips your hand more firmly and lets his other move to your cheek—to see if you’ll flinch at his touch. But, bloody hell, you lean into his palm and press your lips to the pad of his thumb. Never once averting your gaze. He lets out a breath that he wasn’t aware he was holding. You’re all his.  “You said you’ll fulfill any request?” His thumb grazes over your bottom lip, opening it to reveal the tiniest bit of the inside of your mouth. “Anything,” you concur. His mind races with endless possibilities. He hasn’t tapped into this part of himself in years. It makes him antsy to claim you. But Severus Snape is not a rash man. He does not allow his emotions to make him sloppy. He is cunning and calculating. And more importantly, he knows exactly how he’ll have you prove yourself. He slides his foot forward, placing his black leather dress shoe in front of you. “Kiss it.” Immediately, you obey, positioning yourself on all fours before leaning down to press your lips to the tip. But you don’t stop there. In fact, you cover the entire top of his shoe with kisses. With each kiss, you let out a soft, sweet noise–as if this act of obedience is actually bringing you pleasure. 

Severus lets out a rough command, “Don’t stop.” You don’t, lowering your upper body further onto the floor, but purposely keeping your hips in the air to showcase the curve of your ass. Your kisses turn to licks, making the top of his boot glisten with your spit. The sight of both almost makes him lose control. “Keep going,” he says through clenched teeth, feeling his cock pulsing within the constraints of his pants. You pull your torso off the floor, moving closer to him so you can start kissing and nuzzling your way up the length of his leg. Not once do you break eye contact. You look at him without fear, without disgust, without judgment. 

It's an unusual occurrence for him. He’s used to his students being intimidated by the mere mention of his name. Even in his school days, he had never been known as a looker. But this is different. You are different. You look at him with reverence and lust while you continue your path up his leg. However, once you reach his groin, you stop and sit back on your heels. You return to your earlier position, with your feet tucked under you and your hands resting palms up atop your knees. You’re so submissive. It’s perfection. “You’re waiting for my command, aren’t you?” he asks, moving his hand to hover over the bulge in his pants.

Your eyes dart at the movement of his hand that’s now slowly rubbing his erection through his pants. You seem transfixed but still manage to reply.

“Yes, Master. I’m your property. My sole purpose is to please you.”

“My property?” he breathes, freeing his aching cock from his trousers.  

He watches with satisfaction when your eyes widen at the sight of it. 

You only nod, too busy watching as he starts to slowly stroke the shaft of his cock. He does this more to tease you than for his own pleasure. It clearly works because you fidget ever so slightly. “You’re my property,” he repeats, louder to refocus you. “My beautiful…little good girl.” Severus pants between words, stroking himself with a firmer grip.

“Yes, Master,” you moan with a lick of your lips. “I’m your good girl.”

“Then prove it by sucking your Master’s cock.” 

You almost take him by surprise with how fast you rise onto your knees. Gently, you nudge his hand away before wrapping your own around the base of his cock. You hold eye contact with him while tracing your tongue over the veins in his shaft. “You taste so good,” you moan out and drag your tongue along the underside until you reach the tip. You clearly know what you’re doing. Severus swears his heart beats in time with the flicking of your tongue. Your hand and mouth work simultaneously—tugging firmly while playfully licking. That is until your hand falls away so you can swallow his cock whole. “Bloody hell,” he swears, involuntarily bucking his hips forward.  

Pleased by his reaction, you hum and tighten your lips around him as you pick up your pace, bobbing your head up and down while sucking him off. He watches you intently. His dark brown eyes burn almost black as you suck him off like your life depended on it. “The good girl is enjoying this, isn’t she?” he hotly whispers, cock stiffening in your mouth. You nod with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. The sounds of you slurping and sucking with such passion sends Severus into a frenzy. His fingers twitch with the need to touch you. Your mouth is warm and so fucking inviting, like his cock was always meant to be there. He wants…no—needs more. No longer able to keep his hands to himself, Severus’ hand grips the back of your head. Long, nimble fingers tangle within the locks of your hair and start to move you up and down at just the right pace. Obeying his physical commands, you allow him to fuck your mouth while you drool all over him. So much so that he can feel saliva dripping onto his balls. Fuck you were messy. He loves it. Almost too much. But you’re looking at him with an affectionate gaze and it only makes him want more. Both of his hands grip onto your head, thrusting his hips forward so he could slam his cock into your throat. Your hands grab his thighs to try to hold yourself steady and not gag. “That’s it,” he grunts, “choke on your Master’s cock.” You groan with brows knitting together while saliva drips from the corner of your mouth. Severus would have thought he was being too rough if it wasn’t for your crumpled, pleasure-stricken face. He allows himself a moment to take you all in, wanting to commit you to his memory. So that when you’re gone, he’ll still have this image of you prettily sucking his cock. That’s when he notices you pressing your thighs together. Fire pools within his rib cage. You’re actually getting off on this. On pleasing him. On gagging on him. On obeying him. Suddenly, having you down on your knees isn’t enough. “Stand up,” he commands and forcefully pulls away, slipping his cock from your mouth. You take a moment to catch your breath and wipe the spit from your chin. Wanting to give you time to compose yourself, he keeps himself busy by stripping fully out of his clothing and casting a quick protection and contraceptive spell with a few flicks of his wand. By the time you’re on your feet, he’s standing before you naked. Your eyes run over his form and take a step forward with hands outstretched as if you want to touch. He doesn’t give you the chance. Instead, he places his hands on your shoulders and pushes you backward until your knees hit the side of his bed and you fall back onto the mattress with a surprised yelp. Your gaze shifts, looking at him towering over you with large eyes. He steps forward, nudging your knees apart with his leg. “Be a good girl and open wider for me.” Your knees fall apart, giving him a full view of your cunt. 

“You’re so wet,” he breathes, in awe that you’re already dripping when he hasn’t so much as touched you. Calloused fingertips run up your inner thighs. The skin there is tender so you shiver until they make contact with your cunt and a chorus of sweet melodies leave your parted lips. You greedily grind into his touch, already wanting more. With a grin, he enjoys himself as he plays with you. He prods your opening and watches your eyelids flutter close. “What a needy cunt you have.” He means it as a compliment, but it’s laced with a snark that’s meant to embarrass you. It works, color flushing over your cheeks. “It’s your cunt now, Master. All of me is yours.” It’s clear that being owned is a massive turn-on for you. And if he’s honest, he’s more than happy to play this game. “That’s right,” he breathes, fingers tracing up towards your clit. “Every inch of you is mine. Including your clit.” He applies pressure to the sensitive bud, causing you to whine and twitch. You nearly come undone from how skillfully he draws circles on your clit. But every time you buck your hips forward, his fingers move away.  “More Master. Please, give me more.” You whine and twitch, pleading sweetly. So sweetly that it’s impossible for him to continue teasing you. His fingers move to your entrance, and he plunges them inside your tightness.  You cry out in surprise, both hands grabbing ahold of the arm pressed between your thighs. His fingers are long and thick, moving in and out in slick quick thrusts. He finger fucks you mercilessly and you love it. 

You toss your head back, mouth falling open wide as you moan towards the ceiling.

Severus leans in, caging you beneath his body, and nuzzles his nose along the side of your face. His body is pressed against yours now and you gasp at the feeling of his hard cock leaking precum on your thigh.  “Master…” you whimper, and he chuckles before whispering hotly into your ear. “This belongs to me as well. This tight dripping cunt is mine. Is that understood?” he asks while picking up the pace of his fingers. You struggle to respond, tripping over your words but he doesn’t relent—wanting you to work through the pleasure. “Y-Yes. Yes, Master! I-I understand.” He hums his praise, calling you a good girl before falling silent. For the next few minutes, the only sounds heard are the sounds of your desperate cries and the wet squelching sounds of your cunt. Your orgasm is drawing closer, threatening to take you over. “I…I’m going to–” But your words aren’t needed because Severus knows what a woman looks like before she’s about to cum. “I know, sweet thing,” he cuts you off, looking at you and holding eye contact. “But cumming for me is a privilege. One you must ask for.” You nod your head, gripping his arm tighter, “May I cum? Please let me cum for my Master?”  With a proud grin, he says the three most glorious words. “Cum for me.” The permission is all you need, the cord inside you snapping. 

Your body goes rigid and your ability to speak is replaced with breathy, unrestrained moans. Your orgasm hits you hard, but it’s only when you limply slump back onto the mattress that he carefully removes his fingers from you. They’re soaked in your juices. Severus suddenly finds himself very parched. You’re looking up at him with a flushed face and glossed-over eyes but are clearly too focused on catching your breath. So, he lets you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean. You make a noise of surprise, mesmerized by his mouth. Satisfied with this small taste of you, he releases his fingers with a soft ‘pop’. “Mmmh, delicious.”  “I’m glad Master thinks so. Thank you for letting me cum,” you murmur politely.

And just when he thought you couldn’t be any more perfect. Sitting beside you on the bed, he grabs your upper arms and hauls you towards him. He crashes his lips onto yours, forcing his tongue inside of your mouth. You return the kiss in a flurry of passion as your hands begin to roam freely over his body. Starting from his shoulder, you trail your hands down his bare chest to his hip bones. He moans into your mouth, enjoying the feeling of your soft hands and the way you gently suck at his tongue. Your hands continue downward until your fingertips brush against his still very hard cock. He breaks the kiss with a smirk. “Is there something you want, Little One?” You brush your lips against his with a nod. “I want to help my Master to cum.” He can already guess what you’re about to say, but still, Severus tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and whispers, “And how do you plan to do that?” “However you’d like me to.” Your answer is immediate but something tells him it isn’t the entire truth. His fingers grip your jaw, tilting it so you’re forced to maintain eye contact with him. “Tell me how you want to make your Master cum.” With wide eyes, the truth pours from your mouth like uncorked wine. “My cunt. Please use my cunt.” Your plea is so desperate that he doesn’t waste any more time leaning in closer until you have to shift your position to lay back on the bed. With a nudge to your thighs, your legs part to accommodate him as he places a hand beside your head, trapping you beneath him. He’s settled between your thighs now with his cock pressed against your core. You moan in unison at the contact. As if it’s painful for both of you to not have him buried inside. 

Your hands run from his forearms, over his shoulders, and down his chest. “Take me, please. Let me feel my Master’s cock inside.”

He straightens his back and guides your legs to wrap around his waist fully. You continue to plead, but instead of giving you a verbal reply, he plunges balls deep inside of you. You both instantly tense. He, because of the tightness of your walls clinging around him, and you, because of the sudden intrusion of his cock demanding to be taken. “That’s it. Taking me so well,” he breathlessly praises, slowly moving out, then back in so you’d have time to adjust. Severus had always refused to inflict pain on his partners that they hadn’t consented to and begged for. And he isn’t about to start now. So he waits until he feels you relax.

Your head lulls to the side with a moan, feeling beyond stuffed full, but also whole.

You coo, arching into him. Severus knew he couldn’t keep his movements slow for much longer.

“Is this what you want? To be fucked until I own this cunt?” “Yes!” you whine, starting to grind your hips in an attempt to get his cock deeper. “I want my Master to ruin me for anyone else.” It’s the word ruin that does him in. Unable to wait any longer he slams into you. You yelp, grabbing ahold of his forearms and sinking your nails into his flesh. The slight bite of pain only spurs him on, his pace anything but slow. The rough and steady rhythm of his thrusts has you already clenching around him. 

He isn’t sure where to look. At your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure, or at your cunt that’s currently swallowing him whole. You toss your head back, slightly obscuring you from his view. So he settles his gaze downward–watching how his cock glistens from your juices every time he pulls out. It’s an intoxicating sight.

One that threatens to force him to spill himself inside of you. But he won’t. Not yet. Not until he’s done enjoying you for a bit longer. Not until he can make you cum again. He grabs some of your hair and tugs so you’re forced to look back at him. “You love this, don’t you? Using your cunt to please me?” Your legs wrap even tighter around his waist, drawing closer…deeper. “Yes, Master! Feels so good pleasing you!” Pressure builds in your lower belly from the orgasm that’s steadily approaching. It feels like he’s everywhere. In you. On you. All over you. “M-Master I—so close. P-Please.” 

You’re struggling to form words but he already knows what you’re trying to say. He reaches between your bodies to your clit and rubs it, strokes it, and draws circles on it until he finds the touch that has you babbling in broken, indecipherable sentences.

“I want you to cum,” he speaks in labored breaths, teasing your clit while still spearing you on his length. “I want you to cum for me now.”

For a moment, you fall completely silent, but then it hits. The unfiltered, beautiful howls that accompany your climax. All the while, your inner walls close around him in the most delicious way. He curses, lurching forward as you gush and spasm around him. It’s too much, and he’s quickly following you over the edge, filling you with his cum. You both tremble through your aftershocks, unable to detangle from one another while coming down from your highs. He feels like a new man after cumming for the first time in God knows how long. But one look at you and your sleep-heavy eyes has him focusing on steadying his breathing faster. Memories from his past return to him, and words like aftercare play through his mind. It displeases him that he doesn’t know what you require right now—space or intimacy? Deciding it’s best to take the middle ground, he slowly slips out of you but sits on the edge of the bed beside you. He takes the utmost care not to jostle you but you don’t seem to notice because you’ve already turned onto your side facing him. You make yourself comfortable, curling up with your eyes closed and a relaxed smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Relieved, he lets out a breath and runs his hand through his dark locks to move it off his face. “That felt amazing. Thank you, Master,” you mumble happily into his pillow. “Call me Severus.” “As you wish, Master Severus.” A spark of warmth emanates from his chest. He likes the way you say his name. It makes him feel things. He reaches for you, tugging you into his arms to help you sit up. At first, you whine, but relax when he pulls you to sit between his thighs and leans you against his chest. He holds you close and whispers, “Will you tell me your name?” You peek up at him with a smile and say it. He repeats it, liking the way your name rolls off his tongue. You nod, your smile widening across your face. He can’t stop himself from stroking your cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He stands, making his way over to his wardrobe. “Get yourself ready for bed, Little One.” He calls from over his shoulder as he uses his wand for a simple cleansing spell. Since you’ve managed to coat even his balls in your slick. 

Afterward, he slips on a pair of black silk pajama pants. He’s about to put a shirt on when he turns back to you, expecting to find you dressed, but instead, he finds you sitting on his bed and watching him. “Where are your night robes?” You fidget uncomfortably, looking away. Severus should have known this wouldn’t last. He tries to disguise his disappointment but fails. “If you don’t wish to stay, then just say so.” The ice in his voice is evident and you snap your head up in his direction. “I-It’s not that!” you protest. “I want to stay. I just…don’t have any clothes.” His frown deepens, “The Dark Lord didn’t leave your clothes here for you?” You shake your head ‘no’. This only confuses him further. To have you waiting for him nude was clearly meant to entice him, but to leave you with nothing to wear after doesn’t make sense. “No personal belongings at all? I don’t understand how he expected you to get home after this.” You flinch, once again looking away. “He said…” you trail off. “Never mind, Master.” He didn’t need spells or potions to see the discomfort radiating off of you. With the long-sleeved shirt he had intended for himself in hand, he makes his way over to you. Of course, he could have simply conjured you some clothing, but if he’s being honest with himself— He wants you wrapped up in him for a while longer. “Arms up.”

You lift your head and see the shirt in his hands. You obey, and he slips the shirt over your head to help you dress. “It’s a tad big on you, but it will do until morning.” You pull your knees to your chest while muttering a ‘thank you’. There’s still something bothering you and Severus is determined to figure out what it is. “Look at me,” he commands, knowing you’ll obey. When you do, he continues, “Tell your Master what’s bothering you.” Perhaps it isn’t right for him to pull the ‘dom’ card when you aren’t technically his submissive, but he needs the truth. You stall for a little longer, gnawing on your bottom lip until you finally respond, “The Dark Lord told me that I didn’t need to pack any of my things because he didn’t believe you’d want me after you were through with me.” “I see…What else did the Dark Lord tell you?”

“That I belong to whoever comes into the room, and that I was to serve them until they no longer had use for me. Which he predicted would be just for tonight…Then he–” You falter, bravery abandoning you. He lets out a breath, resisting the urge to scrub at his eyes. Of course, he had threatened you. Placing a finger underneath your chin, he gently raises it. Your eyes flutter, struggling to meet his gaze. “You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?” You only nod. “You have my word that you’re under my protection now. Do you understand?” You nod again and summon your bravery so you can continue. “Then he said that maybe he would pass me around to the other Death Eaters or maybe he’d use me himself.” Severus can’t explain the jealousy that boils within him. But it’s there. Hot and nauseating. Suddenly, he can’t bear the thought of another having you. Not Voldemort. Not anyone. “No one is allowed to touch what’s mine.” The threat of his words hangs in the air, but you look relieved. “You…You mean you’ll keep me here with you?” He hadn’t realized he had said that aloud. Honestly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. All he knew was that the only hands he wanted on you were his. “Is that…something you’d want?” You smile bright, brighter than the summer’s sun. “Nothing would make me happier, Master.” As beautiful as you are, and as lovely as it sounds to have a warm cunt to bury himself in each night, the cold blade of reality cuts through. “Listen to me, there are still many things we’ll need to discuss—”But you aren’t listening because you’re too busy crawling into his lap. You straddle him and nuzzle your face into the side of his neck.

“Thank you, Severus,” you whisper against his skin, melting against his body as you make yourself comfortable.

No one has ever thanked him in his entire life. He isn’t sure how to handle it.

The longer you lay against him, the more a warmth blooms inside his breastbone.

He can’t deny how good it feels to have you close.

Things can’t be this simple can they?

Nothing in his life had ever been simple.

You let out a small sigh, seemingly starting to fall asleep while sitting up. It tears him from his thoughts and instead has him worried about your comfort. He shifts and lays down on the bed with you still tucked into his chest.

He had no way of knowing if this would work, but bloody hell did you fit perfectly against him.

Years of tension seemingly start to melt away as sleep threatens to take him over.

Voldemort had given you to him for being his most loyal Death Eater.

And while nothing could be further from the truth, Severus Snape can’t help but think.

This was the best damn present he’d ever received.

[estellan0vella]

Tiny Tim Returns Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU Pt1

You’re standing behind the counter of the parlour, enjoying the rare quiet moment. The shop is filled with the faint buzzing of tattoo machines and the distant laughter of Megumi and Yuji playing in the corner.

Sukuna, Gojo, Geto, and Toji are out on a supply run, leaving you to watch over the place. As you glance around, ensuring everything is in order, the bell above the door chimes, signalling a new arrival.

Your heart skips a beat as you recognize the man stepping inside. It’s the same guy who attempted to rob the place just a week ago. He scans the room with narrowed eyes, clearly expecting to find the heavy hitters who usually keep watch.

“Megumi, Yuji, go to the back office and lock the door,” you say calmly, your gaze never leaving the intruder.

“But, Y/N/N—” Yuji begins, concern etched on his young face.

“Now,” you repeat firmly, cutting off any further protest. Reluctantly, the boys comply, exchanging worried glances as they disappear into the back room.

As the door clicks shut, Ren, one of your regulars and a biker with a heart of gold, steps out from behind a booth. He’s been chatting with you while waiting for the guys to return and watches the unfolding scene with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“What are you gonna do without your guard dogs?” the robber sneers, attempting to sound intimidating but failing miserably.

“I have Ren,” you reply nonchalantly, nodding towards the biker who raises an eyebrow in response.

Ren chuckles, leaning casually against the counter. “Yeah, I’ve got a soft spot for Y/N and the kids. Not that she needs any protecting.”

The robber tries to assert dominance by stepping closer, but you hold your ground, unphased. “You might want to check the sign,” you say, gesturing towards the window decal that reads, ‘No Guns Allowed. Seriously, We’ll Laugh In Your Face.’

“That sign’s in your honour,” you add with a smirk.

Ren lets out a hearty laugh. “I remember when they put that up. Good times.”

The robber’s face reddens with anger. “Is it medically diagnosed as microscopic?” you ask, feigning concern.

Ren snorts, adding, “Did the girls laugh at you in school?”

Undeterred by the robber’s growing frustration, you continue with playful banter. “You’re a Freudian case ready to be studied.”

“Does the gun make you feel like a big man when you point it at a woman?” Ren chimes in, thoroughly enjoying the exchange.

“Let me guess your name. It’s Tiny Tim, right?” you say, barely managing to stifle a laugh.

“Do you need a hug?” Ren asks, spreading his arms wide.

“I’m sure we could get you laid down on the couch and give you a teddy bear,” you suggest with mock sympathy.

Before the tension can escalate further, the door swings open and Sukuna, Gojo, Geto, and Toji stride back in. Relief floods through you, but you maintain your composed demeanour.

“Well, well, well,” Sukuna says, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he eyes the robber. “Look who’s back. Think you’re a big man because you waited until it was just my girl and two kids?”

“I had Ren here,” you point out, crossing your arms confidently.

Toji nods in greeting to Ren. “Nice to see you, Ren.”

“Hey, man,” Ren replies with a nod.

“Someone needs to learn their lesson,” Sukuna says, stepping forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Don’t hurt him, poor thing,” you interject with a theatrical sigh. “He’s just confused. Why don’t you make him pretty instead?”

The guys exchange amused glances before dragging the robber over to a chair. Gojo pulls out his piercing kit with a grin, his movements precise and almost artistic.

“I think he needs a few more holes,” Gojo remarks, piercing the robber’s face multiple times.

Sukuna, always the creative one, tattoos ‘I’m an idiot’ on the man’s forehead. “There, now everyone will know,” he says with a smirk.

Toji and Geto join in, tattooing crude drawings on the robber’s cheeks. You glance up from your magazine, a mischievous idea forming.

“How about ‘I cry in the shower’ written across his neck?” you suggest, a playful glint in your eyes.

“My girl’s a genius,” Sukuna praises, adding the new inscription with a flourish.

When they’re done, the robber is a sight to behold—a chaotic canvas of piercings and humiliating tattoos. Ren watches the spectacle with entertained fascination, leaning againt the counter. 

“You’ve got a free tattoo card to cash in whenever you want one,” Sukuna tells Ren.

Ren nods, a grateful smile on his face. “Thanks, Sukuna. I might take you up on that free tattoo one of these days. As long as Y/N’s designing.”

"Are you sure you don't want one of the guys?" You grin, gesturing to the robber. "They've done a magnificent job"

Sukuna, Gojo, Geto, and Toji all glance at each other, their mischievous grins widening as they take in the sight of the now thoroughly humiliated robber. The buzzing of the tattoo machines fills the air as they admire their handiwork.

“Well, babe, I’m glad your tits are okay,” Sukuna says, giving you a once-over with a smirk.

Gojo nods in agreement, his expression mock-serious. “Yeah, couldn’t let anything happen to those.”

“Priorities, right?” Geto adds, winking at you.

Toji just chuckles, adding his own line. “We'd be lost without them.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “My heroes,” you say, giving a sarcastic little bow. “What would I do without you?”

The door to the back office creaks open, and Yuji and Megumi peek out cautiously. When they see the situation is under control, they step out, their eyes widening as they take in the sight of the robber.

Yuji’s face lights up with delight. “He’s got willies on his face!” he exclaims, pointing at the crude drawings that Toji and Geto had tattooed.

Megumi bursts into laughter, holding his sides. “He looks so stupid!”

The adults can’t help but join in, the room filling with the sound of hearty laughter. The robber, now thoroughly humiliated and realizing the gravity of his mistake, squirms in his seat, trying to avoid eye contact.

Ren, still leaning casually against the counter, chuckles. “You boys sure know how to make a statement.”

“Only the best for our favourite customers,” Sukuna replies, giving Ren a friendly clap on the shoulder. “And for my girl.”

You smile at Sukuna, feeling a warm rush of affection. “Thanks, Kuna. You always know how to handle things.”

Sukuna grins back at you. “Anything for you, babe.”

Yuji, not missing a beat, runs up to Sukuna and hugs his leg. “Suku, that was awesome!”

Sukuna ruffles his little brother’s hair affectionately. “Glad you think so, kiddo. Now, how about we get some ice cream to celebrate?”

The boys cheer in agreement, their earlier fear completely forgotten. You shake your head with a smile, marvelling at how quickly they bounce back.

As the group begins to disperse, Ren gives you a nod. “I’ll catch you later, Y/N. Don’t forget about that free tattoo.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply with a wink. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Sukuna wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You handled that like a pro, babe.”

You lean into him, feeling safe and content. “Well, I’ve got the best team backing me up.”

“Damn right you do,” Gojo says, grinning. “And don’t you forget it.”

Yuji tugs at Sukuna’s sleeve. “Can we go now, Suku? I want chocolate!”

Sukuna laughs, scooping Yuji up into his arms. “Alright, alright. Ice cream it is. Let’s get out of here.”

As you all head towards the door, you glance back at the robber one last time. He’s still sitting in the chair, looking thoroughly defeated and adorned with his new, embarrassing tattoos.

“You should probably find a new line of work,” you suggest with a smirk. “Something that doesn’t involve robbing tattoo parlours.”

The robber groans audibly, burying his face in his hands as Toji and Geto haul him to his feet, escorting him out with a mixture of firmness and amusement.

"Make sure to leave a positive review!" Gojo calls after the man as he runs away.

"I need a drink," You say, stretching your arms above your head as Sukuna locks up the parlour. "That 50s diner place does boozy milkshakes right?"

Sukuna chuckles, nodding in agreement as he locks up the tattoo parlour behind him. "Yeah, they do. And they've got those ridiculous burgers too."

Gojo perks up at the mention of boozy milkshakes. "Count me in. After today, I could definitely use one of those."

"Let's go!" Yuji and Megumi exclaim, their eyes wide at the though of milkshakes.

Together, you head towards the dinger, ready to face whatever comes next, knowing that with your found family by your side, everything will be just fine.

taglist: @sad-darksoul

[amimuu]

In sickness and health—wait, wrong line.

Uhm…no…no context :]

THE FIVE HOMOEROTIC FORMS OF LANGUAGE—*gets shot*

First time I actually have to blur out text to avoid spoilers huh….MAN how I feel when I want to write out these scenes so bad but like they’re literally past the halfway point on the story so very far away :’) but anyways….sick fic chapter?! Sick fic chapter!!! What in the world is going on???? Idk you tell me lol. But we got Nari taking care of a feverish Lamb! Now usually thanks to the halo thing they shouldn’t be able to get sick like. At all. But yknow…stuff happens…

Here with me, I’ve been ✨sick✨ this lasts couple days and my mental health has probably taken a turn for the worst AND IM ALSO IN THE MIDDLE OF MY FINALS. But we stay strong 💪 and we don’t trust any thoughts about life after 9 pm like god says LMAO

On other news I have a bunch of doodles I’m yet to post so let’s see if I don’t explode while trying to figure out which order to put them up in. Hehe

Now. Did someone say…extras…

What’s going on in that second drawing uh. Ritual? Idk

Did I ever mention the correlation between gods of death and music? No? Uhm. My bad I guess. But my inbox is always open for any doubts! Until then :] hope y’all enjoyed the post!

[snotbuggle]

Omega when she gets to jail and realizes that she now has to big sister four other children. One of which is nowhere near her age.

Going to try and condense some more serious thoughts about these episodes down below so I can avoid spoiling someone as much as possible and not post a dozen times. I don’t want to miss tag any one of those.

Jex/Jek?? I can’t completely remember his name, but the mirialan kid is for sure not going to trust her at all. Can’t say much for the pantoran kid since they haven’t shown much of them so far, but Eva is going to love her.

I think the mirialan kid is definitely going to be skeptical of Omega’s prior knowledge of the facility, Emerie, and why they’re there. Although he might overlook these things hanging on her promise that her brothers will get her, and in turn them, out of there. I can’t help but wonder what Omega and the others will think after about a week and there still not being a rescue. (These two are assuming that she will be placed with the other force sensitive children. Although she may be moved since her blood actually works for project Necromancer)

Crosshair is definitely going to hear it from Hunter. ESPECIALLY after he threw Hunter’s past failure to keep her out of Tantiss in his face. What I think will weigh on his conscience more though is the fact he thinks she’ll be alone this time. In a way she definitely will, but I have no doubt that he realizes he was probably the highlight of her day. He was probably the one thing that kept her hopeful even if he tried to talk down on her and get her to leave. Yes, she had hope that Hunter and Wrecker would find her, but she also needed someone there with her. A familiar face and not someone who just revealed they were your sister out of the blue. Her situation has changed, but Crosshair doesn’t know that. The Crosshair guilt is going to be so real in these last episodes.

Switching gears, CX agents are always a cool and interesting topic for me. While the identity of CX-2 isn’t usually as engaging, I have to say that I’ve drifted from the standpoint of “there’s no way that’s Tech” to “it’s a possibility” over the course of the last two episodes. I’ve seen some fun ideas for who it is otherwise. Personally, I think that they’re probably just another copy paste man with no autonomy anymore.

ANYHOW! I haven’t seen anyone talk about it much, but the scene with Hemlock reviewing the CX agent data and the capsule has me thinking a little harder on their creation/conditioning. The way Hemlock talks about the other operatives as well. “The others aren’t ready to join you��� (paraphrasing) seems to show that after the mental conditioning through obviously brutal means, it takes a load of time to physically condition the agents. Seeing as CX-1 was most likely initiated around the same time as Crosshair (I choose to believe that they were near each other’s tables which is why they’re familiar), that took around five months to half a year. In that time span there had to be a lot of soldiers who Hemlock saw fit to be “reprogrammed” but we see very few operatives throughout. This means that if they make it out of mental conditioning, physical conditioning is most likely very dangerous and often times fatal. I’d like to draw attention to the capsules as a part of that physical conditioning. There were several capsules that Hemlock was observing, along with the foggy one that is most likely that new Huyang-lookin-ass operative. If these capsules are the final stage of physical conditioning, it adds meaning to CX-2’s first line, “Why have I been activated?” (Once again paraphrasing). Although the capsules could be for something else entirely.

Also a bit of a gripe, why in the world do you need a new secret-secret operative, Hemlock? You have the commandos, and then the first X troopers, now the CX’s, and what? You wanted a new one? I can’t tell if this man is an overachiever or just way too absorbed into the advanced trooper rabbit hole. Also for you Tech theorists, it’s kinda suspicious that he makes a new version of agents isn’t it? Almost like there’s something…deviant about him?

Completely side tracking here, I really like Phee’s awareness in the station. Yeah she didn’t hear the blaring alarm, but she was in a room where it’d be hard to hear anyways. However, when she got back she felt something was off about the ramp. We’ve seen how slick CX-2 is, so her noticing something is up was a nice touch imo. Also was very appreciative of her caution and readiness with her knife. I love when female characters get to be aware of their surroundings and ready to throw hands if things go south.

In conclusion, thank you for listening to my dump-rambling. I’ve been trying to keep my lips shut so I don’t miss tag anything and spoil it for someone (because I know that I’ll forget to tag everything right). I hope Wrecker is okay. And even if I’m not a Tech CX theorist, I have to admit that I’ve been seeing some fairly strong parallels.

[echo-and-dust]

now that my brain has somewhat unscrambled itself i have gotten most of my thoughts in order about season 3.

and the first thing i will say is: i loved it.

while it was gutwrenching and polarizing in some ways and i feel that i am entitled to financial compensation for what its done to my mental health, i loved this season for pretty much almost everything it did.

i cannot fault people for having issues with much of the characterization and plot choices made—that’s been the trend during the entire run of the show after all, and imo it’s a testament to the phenomenal way it generates nuance—but i wanted to share my feelings on the recurring opinions i’ve seen about some of these things.

first, i do not blame simon at all for the things he said in the final scene. he’s a child who has been receiving endless verbal and physical harassment on top of all the trauma he is still trying to heal from. he just watched his boyfriend lash out in anger and hurt—while not at him, but it must’ve been a close resemblance of how he might’ve seen micke act. at least, that's what i thought, though i've seen others say otherwise.

and yes, wille is not micke, but just because wille’s source of outbursts is different from micke’s doesn’t mean simon is wrong in drawing similarities. at least he's finally getting a true glimpse into what wille has had to deal with. i've honestly grown to like that they didn't have simon immediately comfort him though; wille's mental illness is not his fault, but it is his responsibility, and instead of pushing a message of unhealthy co-dependence, the show has simon be honest: "but i see that everything hurts you and that hurts me too." and to me, that's so important.

plus, it doesn't make their love any less genuine. wille is a victim of the circumstances; he is not evil, and he is not undeserving of simon. he just has a lot of growing and healing to do, a lot of unlearning and exposure therapy because he's still blinded by privilege even when he tries not to be.

speaking of, i have so many thoughts about wille that i feel like i need to save for its own separate post, but to sum them up: i'll still defend him with my life, and he needs to get the fuck away from that institution.

also, the fact that the responsibility of controlling simon's media decisions was placed solely on wille confused me at first like—why wouldn't they get a professional to give him proper media training?

then i realized, this could be the royal court's way of sabotaging their relationship. they knew that making wille the one to tell simon what he can and cannot say or post would create distance and animosity between them. despite the ramifications of simon's behavior on social media, it seems they still thought it best to have his boyfriend be the one to try to mold him into the system. because they knew that's how they could get rid of him. in conclusion, fuck the royal court (we been knew but still).

one of the standouts this season was their transparency regarding the show's politics. it not only works well with the show's arc (wilmon is public, everything's out in the open now and there's nothing to hide), but also it felt necessary at a time where censorship has been rapidly gaining momentum. it felt so refreshing for these characters to talk so openly about racial discrimination and queerphobia and class disparities, forcing both character and viewer to acknowledge that they exist and you should feel uncomfortable about it.

i don't think i can add much more to what was already said about it—most of the fandom is more eloquent and observant than i am anyway—i just wanted to reinforce how important this season is to myself and the story even with how controversial it is to fans right now. a lot of people may disagree with me and that's fine.

[moments-on-film]

Moments on Film: Carmy IS The Bear - Opening Scene Analysis

Hello friends. I hope your year is going well. If we have interacted or you’ve read my work before, hello again! If you’re new to my blog, welcome!

This is the final part I’ve been building to in a 3 part character analysis series I have written about the character of Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto from The Bear. In the first part, I analyzed how 🔗Carmy doesn’t know who he is yet because he’s never had the safety and freedom to discover who he really is by connecting with his true passion, art. In part two, I analyzed 🔗Carmy’s true purpose and how I believe his destiny is to set everyone up for success, leave the kitchen behind and step into his light.

I have rewatched The Bear multiple times, but nothing ever captures the wonder, intrigue, and immediate empathy I felt for Carmy after that fascinating opening scene in the pilot episode. I have been thinking about it since I first watched it and it has stayed with me.

Since the first time I saw it, I have always believed Christopher Storer wrote the opening scene of The Bear to provide a portal into the entire arc for Carmy’s character. Let me explain.

Think about what Carmy is doing in the opening scene. He’s approaching a bear trapped in a cage. He speaks to it softly and gently, shushes it, empathises with it, coaxes it out and unlocks the cage. Look at the words used in the script:

Trapped, locked away

Whimpers, cries from inside

Emerges

A mass of dirty, matted hair

Mouth bleeding and ill

Shivers

“Shhh…..shhhh…it’s okay…”

Sad, abused eyes

There was a cute animal in there once

“Come on….go….”

“I know.”

Why is The Bear so personified in the script? Why is Carmy talking to it like it’s a person? Carmy looks into its “sad, abused eyes”, and tells it,

“I know.”

In my opinion, in the pilot episode, Carmy encountering the Bear is more than a dream, it’s a premonition because….it is Carmy talking to his future self.

Think about everything we have seen him go through so far and read the scene below:

I think Chris Storer has given us the arc of Carmy’s character in the form of a fevered dream Carmy has while watching over a slow cooking pot of gravy while he sleeps on the metal counter.

Carmy is the bear in the cage. S1 set the trap, by the end of S2, Carmy has fallen deep into it, and I think in future seasons, Carmy will suffer greatly, then will make great attenpts to heal, get in touch with what he really wants and will set himself free.

The fact that the opening scene in the series takes place on the State Street Bridge is an indication that Carmy saving himself—letting himself out of the cage—will save his own life. This is the same Bridge where his brother Michael, trapped in the same cage he is caught in now, separately, but somehow together, saw no way out and took his own life. The symbolism is striking. The Bridge is the connection between the two realms, and the difference between life and death.

I also think that the words used to describe the bear mean that things will get so much worse for Carmy before they get better. Season 1 ended with Carmy committed to opening The Bear. Season 2 ends with Carmy caught in the walk in freezer of the restaurant, a literal bear trap of his own making where he is buried alive by his unprocessed trauma, and inability to thrive in the very place he was supposed to lead, and crippling pressure to turn a profit to pay off his debts. This is because in my opinion, the restaurant, his cage, is not his natural habitat. This is why everything in it always seems like such a struggle and so painful, forced and joyless.

I’m worried to see how things will get worse for Carmy than they already are. In the script, the bear is described as tapped, locked away, crying, whimpering from the inside, a mass of dirty matted hair, mouth bleeding and ill, shivering with sad, abused eyes.

From the moment I saw the drawing on the wall in the pilot episode, I said, wow, look at the bars, it’s a cage. Of course, I didn’t know until 2x6 that Carmy himself drew the sketch himself, as a Christmas gift for Michael, who was trapped in a horrible cage of his own at the time, which makes it all the more telling and poignant. There’s a reason why Carmy drew the sketch this way, even if it was subconscious, with the same bear trapped in a cage, which we see again in his dream.

Photo credit: moments-on-film (me)

At the end of season 2, Carmy is trapped, pacing the cage of the walk-in freezer.

I’ve been so worried about Carmy as a character since the first episode because it is so clear that he’s sick and badly needs help that he’s not getting. He has undiagnosed PTSD, and inner trauma that manifests physically in the form of nightmares, trouble breathing and terrible panic attacks that ravage his body. This has been so visceral to me throughout S1 and S2 that I wrote an analysis post about 🔗Carmy’s Vital Signs, and how they are dangerously visible on screen through Jeremy Allen White’s exceptional acting. The Bear in the pilot script is described as whimpering, crying and ill. If I am correct, this is where Carmy is headed before it can all turn around.

One other little clue that Carmy is metaphorically the bear from the opening scene, is the physical look of Carmy’s hair. From the pilot episode, Carmy’s hair has bothered me. He’s a 3 Star chef, trained with the best, and worked under the abusive chef in New York who must have had him and his hygiene under a microscope. It never made sense to me that his hair at times looked dirty and unkempt while his shirts were immaculately clean, pressed, and white. Below is a quote from an article where Jeremy Allen White talks about his hair as Carmy:

"I also wanted Carmy to always look just a little dirty. There’s a sink on set — everything was functional — and before most takes, I would get water in my hands and run it through my hair to get it looking kind of greasy.”

This always stuck out to me. He’s playing not just any chef, but, in the words of Sydney, “the most excellent CDC at the most excellent restaurant in the United States of America.” A chef who clearly cares about cleanliness, who gets on his hands and knees to scrub the floor more than once with just his hands and a washcloth. Why would he want him to look dirty? But thinking of it now, if he too knows the arc of Carmy, which he has said Chris Storer has shared with him, then he understands that where we are headed is to witness him as the bear is described, emerging from the cage, “a mass of dirty, matted hair.” The slightly dirty hair is a physical clue into the journey he is on as a character.

I think in future seasons we are going to see a great deal of guilt and therefore self flagellation from Carmy to over correct his mistakes from S2 that is going to further impact his mental and physical health. As I mentioned in a prior post, just like his tattoo, he is constantly dancing on the knife’s edge, and literally putting himself in life threatening danger.

I also have predicted in prior posts that Carmy is going to push himself so hard that he has a major health incident that might finally force Claire (if she’s still around) to actually take note of how sick he actually is. I’m not sure if she’s going to be prominently featured in S3, but I would not be surprised if a health emergency forces Carmy into her life somehow. It never made sense to me that her (then) boyfriend is sick, she’s an ER Doctor, and doesn’t seem to really notice or care.

As I mentioned in my last post, Carmy’s True Purpose, I ultimately believe that Carmy needs to get out of the kitchen and into a life where he can be happy and healthy, and connected to his true life’s purpose. I do not believe that this means Carmy will abandon his found family, or that he will do anything to betray Sydney. I believe she’s his shining star and he will do anything and everything in his power to make sure she gets hers. I also believe they will be in each other’s lives forever because they are truly soulmates. This isn’t about anyone else, though, I think this is about Carmy coming to terms with decades of abuse, unspoken thoughts and feelings, buried passions, his precarious health situation, which is in fact, eating him alive, and letting go of his long held mantra to 🔗 “just keep going”, before it kills him.

Perhaps there’s a way to marry art with the restaurant. That doesn’t solely mean he is only drawing. Maybe what Carmy really should be doing is creating, planning and designing menus, traveling the world to discover new flavors and finding inspiration that can help the restaurant, and provide him with much needed creatively, peace and, yes, joy. Maybe the restaurant will become seasonal and he and Sydney can spend the off time traversing the globe and creating menus together. Maybe down the line he can get out of the commercial kitchen, and he and Sydney’s can revamp her catering company and they can create together is a different environment. I must believe we are headed for somewhere healing, positive and beautiful, despite the valley of despair that ended S2.

The character of Carmy honestly breaks my heart. In him I see someone who so desperately needs a breakthrough and help on so many levels. He so badly needs to discover who he is and what actually makes him happy before it’s too late. I think Carmy is subconsciously very connected to this. His dream, which started the series, continues to haunt me.

One great thing about Carmy’s life are the people who now surround him. In my opinion, he needs to be very careful about how he treats them moving forward. He has people who genuinely love him and who I believe have his best interest at heart. If he pushes himself to the brink and then decides to leave the kitchen for the sake of his health, I believe everyone would ultimately understand. However, no one can take the reins of his life and fix it for him. Only he has that power and create his own reversal of fortune.

If I am correct, for his character to follow the arc of the opening dream scene, all Carmy ultimately has to do is unlock the cage and set himself free.

How he will arrive at that point is the journey of The Bear.

©️moments-on-film 2024

[wrightingdungeon]

For your game!

Would you be interested in Sebastian in stardew valley with c (confession) y (yearning) and/or XOXO? Any of those could be cute!!

Ty!

Thank you for playing along!

Check out here if you'd like to play a game

Look at this edgy baby boi, love this froggy baby.

C - Confession: Calm, cool, and collected are all you see, but on the inside, Sebastian is freaking out. He's never asked anyone out before, and the thought of messing up his first confession makes him feel like he has a tummy full of frogs. Each time he imagines the words leaving his mouth, his heart races, and a wave of nausea washes over him. —

Leaning against a tree, he watches the rain fall, his breath mingling with the misty air. He's been trying to muster the courage to confess to you for what feels like an eternity, but every time he gets close, something stops him. A distraction here, an interruption there, something always seemed to happen that made him clam up.

Taking another drag from his cigarette, the familiar burn grounding him momentarily, he knows he can't keep postponing this forever. Looking up, he sees you approaching from the mines, and his heart skips a beat. He can feel the butterflies in his stomach turning into a chaotic swarm.

Every step you take feels like it's in slow motion, the distance between you closing far too quickly and yet not quickly enough. 'Maybe right now is the right time?' he thinks, fingers twitching as he stubbed out the cigarette on the damp bark, the tiny ember hissing in protest.

He can see the excitement in your eyes as you notice him, the way you tilt your head slightly, probably wondering why he looks so serious. His mind races through all the possible outcomes of the next few minutes. What if you laugh at him? What if you don’t feel the same way? What if he can’t get the words out at all? He clenches his fists, trying to steady his nerves. This is it. There’s no turning back now.

The words are right there on the tip of his tongue, but they feel like they're caught in his throat, tangled up in his uncertainty. "Hey," you say, smiling softly as you finally reach him. "What’s up?"

Sebastian swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "I, uh…" He trails off, cursing himself for his hesitation. He can feel his cheeks heating up, and he knows he must look like a deer caught in headlights.

"I need to tell you something," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve been wanting to say this for a long time, but I… I haven't been able to. I like you—a lot. And I was wondering if… maybe… you’d like to go out sometime?"

X - XOXO: Sebastian would love giving and receiving hugs and kisses. He may be a bit shy in the beginning, but he would embrace you with a tender warmth, holding you close. His kisses a series of little pecks and gentle long soft kisses. As your relationship blossoms he's unafraid to show his affection openly. —

Sebastian leaned against the wooden fence in Sam's yard, his attention fixed on Sam’s repeated attempts at a kickflip. The setting sun enveloped them, casting a comforting glow over the surrounding area with a gentle, golden light.

Sebastian couldn't help but let his gaze wander, taking in the serene evening scene. It was then that he noticed you turning the corner. A smile tugged at his lips almost instinctively as he watched you walk closer with the same grace that had first caught his eye.

"Hey Sam, hey Sebby!" Your cheerful voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention fully onto you. Sebastian's smile widened as you approached, greeting him with a warm kiss on his cheek.

"Hey," he responded softly, his voice tinged with affection as he returned your kiss gently. As you wrapped your arms around each other, he embraced you tightly, his chin resting on the top of your head, while his hands rubbed gentle circles on your back.

Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of your hair. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared warmth and affection.

Suddenly, a loud thud and a yelp shattered the moment. You both turned to see Sam sprawled on the ground, his skateboard rolling away from him. He laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up.

Y - Yearn: He didn't realize how much he yearned for your touch, the way you would slip your hands into his hoodie pocket, seeking warmth and closeness, the simple comfort of holding your hand, fingers intertwined as if they were meant to fit together. —

"Come here.” Sebastian looked over at you and raised an eyebrow. “Why?” he asked, already knowing the answer to his question by the way you held your arms open while lying on his bed. “I wanna cuddle.”

He glanced back at his coding and then at the time. He sighed softly, knowing he still had a few hours he could burn away on his work, but the idea of taking a break was nice. “Just an hour?” Your request pulled him in, the soft plea in your voice tugging at his heartstrings.

“Just an hour,” he mumbled, getting up and joining you on the bed, letting your arms wrap around him as he settled beside you. The world outside seemed to fade for a while all that mattered was the steady rhythm of your breathing and the warmth you shared.

Sebastian closed his eyes, feeling the tension from his long hours at the computer start to melt away, as you ran your fingers through his dark hair, feeling himself relax even more under your touch. "You need to rest," you whispered gently, concern lacing your words as you noticed how worn out he seemed. Sebastian shook his head slightly. ”Just an hour," he yawned, his voice barely above a whisper, reminding you of the mental timer he set.

The minutes stretched into a peaceful silence, the only sounds being the faint hum of his computer in the background and the gentle rhythm of your breathing. Your fingers continued to stroke his hair, your touch soothing and comforting. He gradually grew quieter, you could feel the weight of his body relaxing into yours, a sure sign that he had drifted off.

[river13245]

hii :D

i’ve a request, could u write kili durin x male!reader where the reader asks to braid kilis hair not realising that it’s courtship in the dwarfish culture. kíli has the biggest crush on the reader and takes this as a sign that the reader likes him back. the reader did not realise that’s what braiding a dwarfs hair means and was also totally oblivious to kilis crush on him and never noticed he was flirting and always assumed he was just very friendly, but obviously the reader likes kili back and it’s just total fluff 😋😋

thank you smm 💞💞

Braids and Courting

Kili Durin X Gn Elf Reader

Being an elf wasn't as great as some beings would think. Of course with being an elf there was skills you had to learn, that were useful. The long and beautiful hair, the soft skin, the pointed ears and the youthful look. All those were great of course.

What wasn't that great was being part of the higher class elves. This meant that eventually you would have to marry and usually you didn't love the person next to you. It was just part of the routine in everyone's life. However you didn't want to wake up next to someone that didn't love you. Or someone you didn't love.

So that's exactly why you left home when you did. It wasn't long before you met Gandalf the Wizard. Him knowing who you were of course, because that man had a lot of knowledge after all his years of living. He had stayed with you for a bit, and it didn't take him long until he invited you to join the group. Of course you could never say no to an adventure so you agreed.

That's exactly how you ended up right here. You had been with the group of dwarfs for a long while now. Even before the hobbit came along and joined you guys.

You were fairly close with fili and thorin, those two were like your best friends. The others you were like a family with except for one. Kili who was filis brother, he was someone you felt strong feelings for. Feelings that go past platonic or familiar feelings. No these were feelings of love, however you never knew how to express these types of feelings because you never really saw it being done.

Over the span of time there had been many moments where Kili had done very sweet things. Things that made your heart pound and your stomach feel weird but of course you thought it was just him being friendly.

-----

Walking around with Thorin in comfortable silence as you both looked for another path was interrupted when you hear someone join you. Turning to look who it was you saw Kili beside you. He looked up at you and held out some berries. "here I had a feeling you would be getting a bit hungry around this time. Have some of these, I have extra"

He grabs your hand and places the berries in your hand. "thank you but don't you need them?" Kili shakes his head "No take them" he squeezes your hand gently before walking back towards his brother. Leaving the quiet thank you that left your lips just drifting into the air.

It was too dark to see the faintest of smile form on Thorin's lips as you go back beside him and eat the berries that Kili had given you.

-----

There had been many times like this

There was one day when all of you had found a big field of flowers. You were so focused on drawing the scene. You liked to draw pretty things and so you were sitting by a tree drawing on a piece of parchment with a pencil you had brought.

In fact you were so focused you didn't even notice how Kili had been picking flowers and making you a flower crown. Eventually when he was finished he came and sat next to you. You rested your head on his shoulder for just a second before looking over at him "hi Kili"

Just the sound of his name coming from your lips made him smile. "hi y/n" he replied before grabbing the flower crown he had made you. "here put this on. Have to see if it fits"

You lower your head a bit so he could place it on your head. It fit perfectly and when you sit back up and look at him. He smiles and nods "perfect, it looks good on you" You smile and blush very softly. "thank you" he nods and walks away.

When he is a good distance away his brother. Your best friend comes and sit on the other side of you. "how long are you going to be blind to the fact that my brother is infatuated with you?" The shocked look on your face makes him laugh. "what? what do you mean, infatuated?"

He looks at you and sighs "You cant tell me you havent noticed the way he always makes you things and gives you things. Always making sure your cared for" Your silent for a moment before it all comes together. "oh"

Fili places his hand on your shoulder "i will let you decide what to do with this information" He gets up and walks away leaving you to think about what to do.

Kili had made something for you and given you things so you decide you should do something for him. You've recently noticed that he has been pushing his hair out of his face more frequently than normal so you decide you would braid his hair for him. Just so its out of his face.

You get up after putting your things away back into your bag. Then begin to walk over to where Kili is. When you get to him he notices you right away and looks at you. "hey Kili. Could you come sit with me for a moment?" He nods and walks with you and sits against the tree next to you.

"everything okay?" he asks a little worried but when you give him a nod and take a breath to calm yourself. "would you mind if I did your hair. I've noticed you pushing it out of your face a lot recently and id like to help?" He looks at you for a moment before turning around.

"what are you going to do with it?" He asks

"i'm just going to braid it. I promise I will make it look good" you reply

Kili looks straight ahead so you don't see the smile that's forming on his face. In the dwarf culture braiding hair is a sign of courtship. He didn't know if you knew that or not but either way he decided to play it cool. Not wanting to make you uncomfortable and you stop.

You kneel behind him on your knees to get in a more comfortable position. Then you begin to gently get all of his hair and pushing it back so you can split it into three sections. Once its in three sections you begin to twist them all with each other, braiding his hair very nicely.

Kili was sitting there patiently not saying much. But you do notice the way he rests his head against your hands. His whole body seems to relax under your touch and a sigh escapes him when you begin to gently massage his shoulders.

When you are finally finished you pull away and he turns around and looks at you. "thank you" he says and you nod. "you look very handsome Kili. I hope you will let me do it again sometime"

He nods and brings your hand up to kiss the back of it. "of course, you are the only one ill let touch my hair." You smile and nod "great ill be honoured" when the both of you get up and go your separate ways Kili gets a few looks since most of them know what this means.

You on the other hand are pulling your bag back over your shoulders. Doing your own thing, when Thorin walks up to you. "y/n" he says which causes you to look over at him. "Thorin"

Thorin looks at Kili and then back to you. "i'm assuming that you are the one that braided his hair?" You nod in response "yes I am, is that a problem?" He shakes his head "no of course not. I just have one question, Do you know that braiding a dwarfs hair means you are courting them?"

A smile forms on your face, no second thoughts are needed. "I know that now. And I find myself rather pleased that people will know that the both of us are together" Thorin smiles and nods placing his hand on your shoulder. "well its about time" he jokes a bit.

This causes you to smile and decide to tease him back. "how about you and the hobbit? When will you two decide to court each other" Thorin blushes very lightly and shakes his head "I don't know what you mean by that"

"mhm sure you dont" you say with a smirk before walking up to Kili. This time instead of standing beside him, you slip your hand into his and hold onto it. From that day on everyone knew that the two of you were spoken for.

[aphrogeneias]

Luiza you have no idea what you’ve done because I’ve wanted to talk about this for ages.

Remember that scene in the bronze where spike and buffy are up on the balcony? And he’s fooling around with her (fingering or fucking her it’s left vague lmao) and he’s telling her to look down at her friends and saying she belongs in the dark with him????

That with Eddie.

do they know?

summary: eddie always knows exactly where to find you, even when you don't want to be found.

pairing: vampire!eddie munson x slayer!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: smut (+18), a little angst at the beginning. semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, hair pulling, biting.

It's quiet up here, the opposite of what a nightclub should be.

Some stubborn voice in the back of your mind tells you that you should be having fun. You watch your friends from where you're standing, the empty balcony of the club you've been attending for years, dancing and joking around, making up their own silly choreographies as tonight’s band played something groovy.

Robin and Nancy hold each other's hands as they dance, Chrissy spins around in her pretty dress, Barb watches them from her trusty place at your usual table, smiling and singing along. They don't seem to notice how long you've been gone, maybe because you've been doing that a lot lately.

Hiding, that is. Leaving places early, without saying goodbye. You don't mean to, you just don't feel much like yourself these days. Not like the girl you used to be, but something new, different — scarred, tainted by something dark, marked by it.

It isn't easy to explain, the shadow that death leaves on someone. You were way too young when you took on this job, and it took a while until the weight of it started to pull you down, but it was finally starting to.

Maybe it was also due to the fact that you'd recently fallen into a bad habit, who was currently staring up at you from the dancefloor. In the middle of the sparse crowd, the only pair of eyes looking up are a deep brown, finding you in your hiding place.

You're not exactly surprised. Eddie hasn't left town in a while, and you'd seen him a couple of days ago — throwing rocks at your bedroom window until you let him in, climbing under your sheets, leaving before dawn.

If you felt colder without him in the morning than with him in your bed, when he wrapped his body around you like he loved you, you told no one.

Eddie disappears into the crowd until you can feel him again, right behind you. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of looking back, and suddenly, he's there, shielding your body with his, his chest to your back as his arms grab the railing in front of you, surrounding you with his leather clad arms.

The smell of cologne and cigarettes invades your every sense, and you need to keep from inhaling deeply. You wish you could turn around and bury your face on his chest, nuzzle into the worn cotton of his shirt, breathe him in.

You do everything to avoid the strange comfort Eddie brings you. It almost hurts, the intensity with which he draws you in.

“Not exactly the life of the party, are you?” You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, his insufferable stare paired with a grin.

“You know me.” You respond, simply.

“Mhm. You're right, I know you.” His chest vibrates behind you as he hums, caging you in even more. “All work and no play makes the little slayer a huge bitch.”

Rolling your eyes, you finally force yourself to glance at him from over your shoulder. “You came all the way here just to insult me?”

“No, but you make it hard not to.” He chuckles. “Just wanted to check on you, actually.”

He surprises you with a kiss on your shoulder, over your top. The whiplash still hasn't settled with you, the hot and cold of it all. Does he hate you? Does he… No. He doesn't.

“There's nothing to check. I'm clearly fine.” You bite your lip.

“So, you're clearly hiding from your friends”, he keeps kissing you, from your shoulder to your neck, now dragging his lips over bare skin, “for no reason?”

“I'm not hiding.” Swallowing hard, you try to stand your ground, but you already feel your walls start to crumble. “I'm just… tired, I guess.”

“Tired of what?” The hands that were on the rail are now in your waist, grabbing and squeezing you, until one of them descends to your hip, and the other up to your back. It slides up your spine, and settles on the back of your neck, while he grabs you by the hair, pulling your head back. “Of keeping up appearances? Pretending to be a good girl?”

You feel it all. His curls brushing your skin, the roughness of the hand that is now on your thigh, rising to feel you under your skirt, his nose digging on your cheek. You're surrounded by him, and regretfully, you wouldn't have it any other way.

“I'm not pretending.” You’re already breathing heavily. “I am good.”

“You sure? I don't know about that.” He finally reaches the crotch of your panties, finding them already sticky with your wetness. His fingers tease you above the fabric, lazily circling your clit, as if he has all the time in the world. “I think you're a bad, bad girl, and you know It too.”

It's all happening at the same time. He's keeping you in place with arm around your waist while he pulls your panties to the side and finally allows you to feel him, “Look at them. Do you think they know?”

You don't speak as he forces you to look forward, down to your blissfully unaware friends. It's dark where you stand, but all they'd have to do was look up and see you in this position. Heat fills your chest, up to your cheeks, and you grab his wrist, attempting to stop him.

He doesn't mind, instead he keeps his hand there, fingers slowly working your clit, dipping to your entrance to collect the slick steadily dripping from you, and back to your little button, “Do you think they know how much of a naughty little slayer you are? Do they know how much you like getting fucked by the big, bad monster you claim to hate? How much you love my fingers in your pussy, how you beg for more?”

Almost as if on cue, you plead. “Please, Eddie. Don't do this to me.”

“Do what?” He whispers, leaning his head down again, locking his lips to your chin, leaving a tender, lingering bite there. “This?”

Finally, he starts fucking you with one of his fingers, and then two. Eddie doesn't waste time, keeping a steady pace, letting you grind your clit on his palm. “You can't deny it because you know it's true. You know you love this, your body claims for me.”

You're grateful for the loud sound of the band playing, drowning out your little whimpers and moans. It's almost embarrassing how close you are already, his voice doing almost all the work for you, his thick fingers caressing your inner walls and hitting that spot inside you over and over.

Delirious little whispers of “yes, yes, yes” leave your bitten lips as you clench around him, tiny white stars behind your eyes as you cum. He keeps whispering sweet nothings in your ear — all you hear is a vague “that's it, that's my girl” at some point — as you come down, still working his fingers inside of you, slowly at first, and then removing them.

When you regain your senses, you notice the bulge in his leather pants digging into your backside.

“Are you bringing stakes around with you now?”

“Funny.” He says, but doesn't laugh. “Find me in the bathroom downstairs in five. I'm not done with you.”

Again, you feel colder when he's gone.

[dailyhatsune]

hi! not exactly a request but i do wanna ask, whats your process when you're rendering more paint like art? (if that makes sense, English isnt my first language so apologies hdskhsjdbd) i really love how you use the colors and im curious how you do it :0

i’ve been meaning to answer this one for a while so here’s how i painted miku in today’s post (put under the read more because yeah prepare for a long post

i’d also like to preface this by saying that i never follow a set way of doing things, so in terms of what my personal process is like, these are only broad strokes of what i do! sometimes i’ll combine or skip parts entirely, depending on how i feel. also, this is not a tutorial, just how i do things, so please don’t treat it like one :’D this will read like the ‘how to draw an owl’ picture if you do

first, like every artist, i sketch. more specifically, i’m getting an idea of what i want to paint later on. this could be how a scene is set up or in this case, how a character is posed. here i’m not concerned about details or getting everything perfectly, i’m only planning how the thing will be composed. maybe a lot of canvas size changing, or adjusting what miku’s doing (note how busted miku’s right hand looks from all the transforming!) however, i still have to be concerned with how clear the sketch will be to future me, because the sketch won’t be any good if i can’t read what miku’s doing

after that, i lay down a flat gray under the sketch, mainly focusing on giving miku a clear silhouette. this is also a good time to make adjustments to the composition on the fly if i suddenly feel like something can be improved upon, like shortening miku’s left arm from the sketch!

after painting a flat silhouette, i start shading in grayscale, focusing only on lighting. i usually do it in two passes, one for the lightest and darkest tones i’ll use (not black and white) and then a second for midtones to blend them better with the base gray but i forgot to screenshot the result of the first pass 🗿 nevertheless, here is where i can start adding some amount of details. i’m not including any extra accessories yet, just focusing on the base design of the outfit and the character herself (for anyone wanting to draw characters from That Gacha Game, this is how i personally make the process more bearable for myself.) i still use the dark gray to separate where certain details (like the facial features and fingers) begin and end, mainly to make colouring more bearable later.

now here’s where i get the Good Colours. it’s a cheat lol. i put a gradient map layer over the grayscale painting so that there’s a little bit of color to start. some gradient maps can be applied as is, some need the layer settings adjusted to make it look good. this one, for example, is a (free) gradient map set from the csp assets store that needs you to set the layer opacity to 20% and to set the blending mode to color to achieve this result. in general, i tend to pick which gradient map i want to use based on vibes, or basically whether i want the work to be warmer or cooler, colour-wise. but this does do quite a bit of lifting for the colors in my stuff.

and then, finally, i add the colours. i add flat base colours in an overlay layer. at this stage, i’ve made the character silhouette clear enough that i don’t need to refer to the sketch anymore for what miku looks like. also, the gradient map layer does its magic by making the shading a bit more vibrant than it would’ve been without it. after that i paint over with a new layer to add details like the lace.

and then i put some extra shading on top. basically this is where the ‘better lighting’ happens. again, this isn’t a tutorial, so i’m not here to say what each part of the lighting is, but i’ve labeled which layers do which job. in other works where the lighting within a scene is more defined (from a window, from a small crack in the walls, etc) the glow dodge layer may be more opaque and sharper, but since this isn’t a work with that, the lighting was applied using an airbrush. the linear burn layer is also there to make the whole thing darker so the glow dodge doesn’t end up oversaturating miku. i also usually match the lights to the vibe i want, and use a complementary color for the shadows. so here you can see i have warm colors on the glow dodge layer, but light purple on both the linear burn and multiply layer.

and that’s it for the character—here’s a gif showing how each layer adds to miku! (sorry it’s so toasty)

as for the background, depending on the complexity, it may go through a similar process, or if i can settle with flat image backgrounds, i just go for that. it’s ok to use external image materials. i didn’t have a background in mind for this miku in specific, so i got some default csp materials and threw together something

and that’s about a rough overview of what my process for more finished works looks like! again, art is a fluid process so i never specifically stick to certain steps all the time, and you shouldn’t either. i can probably answer why i’d pick this colour over another in one particular work, but it’s something that kinda has to be learned on a grander scale. i think everyone can already feel what colors work with what atmosphere or what setting, even if they can’t immediately explain why. colors and composition do take some level of experimentation to find what works best!