#every single image is sourced through Pinterest

[53v3nfrn5]

[darkdemeter]

BY THEIR LEASH

— WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! Female Reader x Natasha Romanoff

—- gifs/images found on pinterest, credit to original posters -—

| A/N | DISCRETION |

Long overdue, finally knocking this one out before it gets retired to permanent draft status ughhhh... *proceeds to fall face first in tired raccoon*

Mafia stuff — mention of death — alcohol consumption (like a lot) — 18+ SMUT, MINORS DNI — Porn with plot? — lesbian sex — threesome — may be some grammar errors and such — slight bondage — little bit of muscle/stomach riding if you squint your eyes, turn your head that way... — I think that's it?

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| M-LIST | TAGLIST

@alexawynters @alyciaddict @simpforlizzie @literaturedog @maladaptive-daydreamz @mathxa @blackbirdv98

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  An expensive investment. A broad term to use for a werewolf broken in by the system at a young age. But it’s true. 

  Alexander Pierce, the finance manager and ringleader as a whole, did all he could to break you in, and to say he did is an understatement. He exceeded the limits you once believed you had and once you were ready, he put you out in the field to garner your reputation. 

You had no limits. Ruthless in your endeavour to complete whatever task was required of you, prepared to do whatever it took, your peers could only look at you with both fear and admiration. 

When all was said and done, you were given your collar, then sold through the underground hub for criminals: the black market. 

  That’s when you learnt in the span of the few minutes that the auction lasted for, that you were either a trophy to those of the higher class of crime, or a very wanted source of security and war. From black funding operators that had their hand in the military’s pit on the hunt for a war hound, to the gangster overlords who controlled territories in the differing states and countries, requiring some form of high end security, there was a very rapid increase in the price they were each willing to pay. 

  At a total of twenty-five million, your collar and services were sold to Mr. Tony Stark. From the sleek fit of a light grey, three piece suit and bright pink tie, Stark had a brighter outlook on the window of his underhand activities. He was the type that lounged back in the severity of his criminal dealings.

Unlike his fellow company who each wore darker palette suits of either navy blue or jet black. He stood out for sure as his auburn tinted glasses did little to hide the one question on his mind: Was his money well spent?

  Well, to say at the very least, you wouldn’t be here tonight if you weren’t worth every single cent he spent on you three years ago. 

  Thinking about the memory now, this is a different tone entirely. Dark and neon is how you remember the black market scene, stalls and cube stores with an assortment of supplies anyone in the business would need, whether that be for the amateurs - which were the usual target customers - or the smaller businesses which belonged to small cluster gangs. 

  The big time runners had designated storehouses to spare where they obtained their supplies, and ran other dealings and hand-offs in and out of private rooms in the clubs. 

  Here, the scene is warm, lavish and made for those who seek the comfort in living in marble halls and pristine white pillars, short cut grass and elaborate parties such as this one. 

“Shit, this party is awfully chipper for someone who died last week,” you huff, eyes scanning the crowd from the smooth, darkly polished bar, which you incidentally found very comfortable to lean back on when told for the hundredth time, “Just sit tight, just a little bit longer.” 

  You didn’t have the time nor patience to sit around getting older by the damn minute. Thankfully, Tony put his card behind the bar so that meant an endless river of drinks. Because you needed the alcohol. A lot. 

  Not a moment too late is your glass refilled with your refreshment. And not too soon after is it halfway downed.

  “Please, Y/N,” sighs Steve from your right side, arms folded over his chest, navy blue suit straining just a bit too tightly against his body, “have some respect for the Maximoff family. They lost their only male heir to a deal gone wrong. They need our support.”

Your shoulders rise with a particularly deep inhale before falling lax, you swirl the sliver of whiskey left in your glass and with a jerk of your wrist you finish it. Ice rattles in your glass as you shimmy it, indicating you need another refill and pronto. 

  “People live, people die. You cross someone and you get shot in the back. It happens.” 

  “He was gunned down in the streets with a fucking machine gun, Y/N. You consider that a mere shot in the back?”

  You shrug in response to Sam’s question with a pout of your bottom lip. “Pietro thought he was the shit. That’s what got him killed by Rumlow.” 

  Sam runs a hand over his face, now distressed by the lack of sincerity you show for the grieving family. “For fuck sake…”

  In the three years of your loyal work to the Stark family and those of his brotherhood - his allies - your colours shone through immensely to reveal a shining personality. Excluding the fact you’d become something of a playful rogue with the women. 

  You simply chalk it up to your animal magnetism. Something that leaves them wanting more whenever in the presence of your company.

  In fact, that was how Tony came to own unclaimed establishments and clubs in the boroughs, ones he wasn’t able to get his hands on before, but after he had you as a playable card in his hand, you provided club goers the relief of being harassed and drinks being spiked. Territorial take over schemes from rival gangs were second guessed when they saw you watching over the joint.

  The after hour visits for your libido were just the perks. But you left a lot of lustful and broken little hearts in the wake of your work. 

  For a werewolf, you were always assumed to be a means of security, and that much was true. Didn’t mean it excluded you from taking on other odd jobs for the families from time to time. Debt collection, assassinations, tailing and blackmail ops, the list is endless. 

  When Steve casts a hardened stare your way, you mockingly raise your hands up in surrender. 

  “Alright, I’ll offer my condolences to the heiress, but I ain’t weeping at her feet for her brother who got himself into that mess because he thought he was too big for his own shoes.”

  “Just behave yourself, alright? The last thing we need is the entirety of Europe at war with us.” You roll your eyes and salute the captain. “Yessir.”

  You bring the glass rim to your lips and draw a small gulpful of your renewed liquor, the fiery taste rolls over your tongue, you savour it to keep your sanity intact lest you go insane from the waiting. Where was the heiress? 

  “Well, well, I thought I wouldn’t see any of you again. Especially you.” Your head, as well as those of your group, direct their gaze to the new voice. The corners of your lips twitch up and you flash her a wolfish grin, chin tilting up slightly in your relaxed position against the bar. You looked like a cat happily laying in the sun. 

  “Miss Romanoff,” each of the men greeted with a nod of their heads. You, however, pat your thigh as an invitation for her to sit. “I had work to do the next morning.”

  “Mm, that’s what you tell the other girls, I’m sure.” You clap a hand to your chest with a wince. “You wound me, sweetheart. If I had the chance, I would have stayed.” 

  She hums but it’s obvious she doesn’t believe you by the rise in her brow. 

  Natasha Romamoff is a hard fish to catch. One of the more established families that control practically the entirety of Europe, alongside the Maximoff family, the two were partners and crafting an empire strong enough to stand on their own without any dire need for support. 

  Yes, her family had prior dealings with the brotherhood. The Starks, Wilsons, Barnes and Rogers and more, whether to collaborate on a bigger criminal project to the smaller portioned deals. Smuggled goods and weapons, blackmail intel deliverance, international bribery to keep the feds off your backs.

  But she never committed to joining forces. 

  You suppose it’s a good power move on her part. She doesn’t have to abide by any of the family creeds, in the end, you’re all loose ends that may potentially be severed if need be. She had the ball in her court and the mysterious Maximoff heiress. 

  Even your animal magnetism wasn’t enough to charm her into joining forces with Stark and his powerhouse of families, but they were surely enough to charm her into a wild one night stand. 

But as you told her. You had work to do. And now she appears to spurn you with her eyes and cruel words, but still entertains your flirtatious advances and indulges the empty space of your thigh.

  For a well respected mob boss such as herself, she definitely liked to play it risky; dressing included. 

  Last you saw her, she was dressed in a more professional manner. But here at this funeral party, whatever the fuck it was, she chose to wear a black, spaghetti strap cocktail dress that’s short enough to be skimming the mid of her thigh. The slit riding the dress up higher is just plain dangerous. 

  She’s facing you, back arched and arse resting on the cliff of your knee. Your clawed hand supports her at the small of her back. Her perfume is strong and complimenting, a sweet bouquet of lavender which rolls over the exposed tops of her breasts from her even more exposed neck. Her plump, red lips move in a way that’s hypnotic. “So I hear you’re going to be a bargaining chip for Wanda Maximoff.”

  “Where’d you hear that?” you scoff with a flick of your chin. 

  “I have spies who whisper to me,” she answers with a swift quirk of her brow. 

  Of course she overheard the news. She then chuckles softly, and all eyes watch her with a level of suspicion. “She won’t take any deal you offer her. She’s determined to steer clear of your little gang wars over in the states.”

  “Rumlow killed her brother and he has bases around our territories. Wouldn’t she appreciate the extra hands in catching the rat?” Bucky poses the question with a dark brow angled high and clenched jaw, the muscles in his cheeks flex harder when Natasha offers no affirmative response; a mark to hopefully land you in the door and good graces with the heiress. 

  “You really think she wants a guard dog?” 

  “Hey,” you growl with a wrinkle of your nose, fangs on the precipice of baring at her. How she used the term in a condescending manner made the fur beneath your skin bristle. Sam claps a hand to your shoulder, somehow able to sense the seething anger within you. 

  “We just want to help. Offer support for her loss and bring Rumlow down.”

  “No. You want a foothold in Europe. And I’m sorry but…” She looks you up and down, drinking in the sight of you and you know she can see you without your clothes on. “You’re not going to cut it, babe.”

  She turns her body to make her getaway but you don’t let her slip away just like that. She gasps and looks to you with a furrowed glare when your arm circles her waist and tugs her back until she’s flush against you, the men in your company watch with trepidation of your next course of action.

  “I will cut it because whether she wants to admit it or not, she needs us.”

  Natasha’s eyes, true to her fashion, darken with a challenge. “You’re wasting your time. She’ll get Rumlow herself.”

  “And if Rumlow plans to get her first?” For a moment you see the doubt cross her face. “That’s where she needs me.”

  “Tony Stark.” Each of the men turn to the voice behind them and their once cool and collected selves turn rigid, nervous under the power one woman can hold so absolute, her green eyes scan each of their faces before they land on you. 

  You finally look and meet her stare, still holding Natasha against you even as she tries to push away from you. 

  “Unhand her,” the woman commands with an accented tongue. 

  At first, you wanted nothing more than to play this out a little, see what makes this woman tick. But both Tony and Steve look at you, silent in their order, you sigh heavily and release Natasha. Once you do, she wastes no time in joining Wanda’s side with a bow of her head. 

  “I hear that you wished to have an audience with me.” 

  Wanda is the sole survivor of this ordeal. Her parents were assassinated two years ago and now her brother was killed. This is the stressed matter at hand, her empire could crumble to the ground, all that hard work put into the grave because she’s being so fucking stubborn with this deal.

  “I will not sign my family, nor any of my shares, to Stark Industries. Enough have I done to keep you out of the hands of law enforcement. I will handle Rumlow myself.”

  This isn’t how any of you hoped this would go. The grief has made her stronger than before. It wasn’t exactly you were waiting for the chance for her to have a weak spot and try your luck, but you all had thought she might even be at least a little desperate for extra help. 

  Natasha’s face says it all: I told you so. You can only roll your eyes and resume with what you’re doing. Refilling your empty glass with more liquor. You’ve yet to scratch the surface of being tipsy. 

  “Miss Maximoff, we only wish to help you. All we ask in return is that you grant us some territory to work with for our trade deals as payment, for support lent to you to catch Rumlow.” Steve is calm in his approach to reason with her, but if anything, her raised hand indicates her refusal, unswayed by the honey of his words. Your tongue rolls the rounds of your mouth, each time measured by your impatience as you slowly circle around the dealings table, unable to find yourself comfortable against the stiffened wood of your seat. 

  “You do realise that you’re asking for more than your so-called ‘support’ is actually worth.” You blink several times, the blow of it a downright attack on their egos. 

  “No, I want something more.”

  “And I want alcohol to affect me so I can sleep well at night,” you mutter to the glassy rim against your bottom lip. Wanda’s eyes flicker to you, bearing down a sinister glare. “Excuse me?”

  “And we were just about to suggest that very thing!” Tony interjects with a grin, eager to utilise his card, his Ace Wolf as he liked to call you. He gestures to where you stand now at the table’s other end.

  She directs her eyes to look you up and down slowly, gaze polished with keen observation. She hums thoughtfully before she looks to Natasha. 

  “E atât de bună?”

  The red haired chuckles and sitting back in her chair, chest heaving with a breathy sigh, she nods. 

  “Exceptional de bun. Cu o limbă ca asta…”

  Bucky shifts in his seat, a hollow whistle on his lips over the exchange of heated words, and you flash a grin at both women. The words of foreign tongue, however, pass over the heads of the other men, their eyes looking to either you or Bucky only to be answered with a shrug, but knowing that look in your eyes, they can take a good guess as to what’s being discussed. 

  With another passing frame of time, both women pull away from their engrossed conversation. “I’ve been made aware that you intend to bargain your wolf to me,” she says, once again letting her sight fall on you. 

  “And if that is the case, and what I have been told…” She trails off momentarily, finding to correct herself in the midst of something you can smell very clearly on her - or rather between her legs. “Then I’ll accept.”

  Each man present in the room is given pause to revel in the stun before them. Wanda Maximoff, the heiress of Europe’s biggest family, accepts their deal. All at the price of you. 

“You’ll have your answer by tomorrow, Mr Stark,” Wanda says, standing from her chair, she beckons you to follow with a kink of her fingers. One by one and following in unison, their eyes turn to you as you shuffle back on your heel with shrug your shoulders and fanged grin.

  “Animal magnetism, boys.”

  Wanda’s heels bound a steady beat as she wanders over to the foot of her bed, making an elegant show of swaying her hips and drawing your attention to her form. From behind, Natasha slips the dark suit jacket from your shoulders. Tosing it aside, her hands play the form of an enchanting guide, ushering you forward while tracing the hidden curves of your muscles. 

  “As per courtesy, Miss Maximoff wants the first claim.” 

  You huff in reply, “And you?”

  Natasha hums softly and plucks your belt loose from your trousers. “I have you two, I won’t go unsatisfied tonight.”

  Tilting your head to view Wanda who stands idle, fingers playing with the lining of her dress above her breasts, you stalk towards her, her back arching under your touch with a breathless whimper, you trail the zip of her gown down slowly. Falling around her ankles as a fabricated halo, she turns suddenly and your lips collide together in hunger.

  She sinks down to the bed, laying back until her hair fans around her, spreading her legs apart. That feverish hunger boils within your blood, running it hold and thick, the fur beneath your skin bristled in your excitement as you take care to roll the sleeves of your skirt to your elbows. To your knees, you’re brought to the sight of her soaked underwear, the dark patch evidently giving away just how badly she required you between her quivering thighs. Natasha’s hands rake through the length of your hair and scratches at your scalp, earning a low purr of pleasure to rumble in your chest. 

You lean forward and all it takes is a single inhale and you’re let loose of your chain of control, claws shearing the fabric that dares to confine her awaiting cunt any longer. She gasps upon contact, your lips smothering her moistened, slick lips and she gives a deep-noted moan, arching her hips up, your hands wrap around her thighs to drag her to you more. 

 She tastes like the fine wines of heaven, a forbidden savour on the tongue that which you greedily lap, your eyes close as you succumb to the wolf’s hunger, tongue lapping heavily at her clit.

  She whines and cries, breath hot and light in her lungs as her nails rip into the sheets to no damaging avail.  Natasha hovers above, watching on in her own longing and desire. She dips a hand beneath the hem of her dress, aside she pushes her own soaked panties and delicately dances her fingers over the sensitive bulb with a keening breath you hear catch in her throat. 

  Natasha leans down low until the scape of her breasts brushes against your shoulder blade, lips a tantalising thing and moving sinfully to mouth, “I’m touching myself to you.”

  “Watching you please her is making me so wet, Wolf.”

  “Make us both cum.”

  You growl deeply and Wanda’s body visibly shudders in response to the wild vibrations that course through her abdomen, shaking her whole and off centre, her hips begin to jerk as she nears her climax. Both women mingle in their euphoria and your own core comes to life, sparked by the noises they make in unison, an orchestra of pleasure. Suckling and licking at her core, she cries out and the lips of her pussy shrink around absence and she sighs in bliss. In tandem, Natasha moans loudly from behind and you feel her body press against you as her hand works hard as fucking her fingers into her cunt, the sound of slick and skin melding together addicting.

  “You weren’t… kidding, Nat,” she says between laboured breaths. 

  Slowing your advances, you finally pull away with a sigh, her juices glistening on your lips. Wanda looks at you and her cheeks flush at the sight before Natasha’s other hand forces your attention to her. Her lips connect with yours and her tongue darts over the bottom of yours, tasting Wanda with a delicious sound that you swallow. 

  After she pulls from you, she then shares a look with Wanda and the two of them grin. “Shall we reward her?” 

  “I think she’s been a girl.”

  Oh, how the wolf loves that. Praise for a job well done you can hardly suppress your proud smirk. Buu before you can do much else, Natasha pushes you and your knees are knocked out from beneath you, Wanda having rolled to the side only to follow Natasha’s lead as they both halfway straddle you, otherwise keeping you pinned to the mattress below. 

  Together they peel away your dress pants, giggling and muttering to one another in that alluring tongue, your mind in a haze to catch barely a sentence shared between them but you gained awareness of what they intended when they each stroked their tongues over your stimulated pearl. 

  “‘Sh–shit!” you hiss sharply and your hips buck, the two women giggling at the sight of you writhing. 

  They give no further warning as they duck down. Their mouths work together against your clit, suckling it to draw pathetic whines from that deep part inside you dare not let anyone see, their voices trespass the air with betraying praises that speak only of teases and their tongues lap at the slick of your pussy that clenches at the attention. Your hands grapple the sheets and tear hard, the damage unnoted and not cared for. 

  “Girls– fuck!” you groan at the rise in your core, oh so ready to reach that climactic end that you have been denied for the past several weeks. It’s not too long that your first release has you whining, the nois a higher pitched sound that does slowly in broken notes as you cum, the girls moaning and allowing their lips to graze one another as they lapped and sucked you. 

  Wanda is the first to make eye contact and move towards you, her leg swoops over to fully straddle your stomach, in her hands is your belt. She rips the centre of your shirt apart, buttons flying to discarded corners of the room to be mere pebbles of disregard.

  You see the way her eyes drink in the sight of your toned muscles, the pinky tip of her tongue darting over her wet lips. 

  She adores the way you tilt your head to the side, a curious whine on your lips. “I’ve always wanted something on a leash. May I?”

  You don’t particularly care for the way her question hits a mark submerged deeper into your heart, reaching for something you denied was there. Dignity. Usually people just took from you and you came to accept that. Expect it. 

  You nod up at her and she fixes the belt around the column of your neck, the leather cool against the blazing heat of your skin, but something inside you flutters. Quickly, you push it down. 

  Natasha moves into the same position behind Wanda, your larger size very much able to accommodate both of them, Natasha trails light kisses along Wanda’s shoulder as she fastens the belt and gives an experimental tug. A soft grunt kitchen in your throat in retort and you flash her a grin, the sharpened points of your fangs perched against your bottom lip. 

  “The wolf never let me tame her, Miss Maximoff.”

  “Oh, she just needed some reassurance,”Wanda replies gently with a smile. For a moment, you wanted to believe her words were sincere. Your hands run along Wanda’s thighs until they reach her hips and with a roll forward, she grinds her pussy against your torso, feeling the defined muscles press and tense against her, bringing her to moan under her breath. Natasha drapes a hand over your own to roll and pinch Wanda’s swollen clit, her eyes finding yours.

  “Watch her,” she commands breathlessly and you do so, amber glows in fluorescent pulses as Wanda biomes slick with her arousal. The fine artistry of their bodies moving together as they roll and grind against you, you cannot help but reach a hand up, claw catching the thin silk of Wanda’s bra and severing the contraption into two, letting it fall and reveal her plump breasts; her nipples erect. 

  Wanda circles an arm behind her and behind Natasha’s head, her back arching to the pleasure she becomes lost in, and you purely enjoy the show above, admiring the glow of sweat collecting on their skin, groaning as their slick covers your stomach as they ride you. The hand working Wanda’s clit speeds up and then slows, teasing the heiress, she gives you a sly grin. 

  “Do that thing with the claws,” she says and Wanda’s eyes open, as if awakening from her bliss and becoming enlightened with wonderment. 

  “W-what thing?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  You sit by the bed, elbow propped up on the chair’s arm with a glass in your grasp, imagination lost in the reverie of last night’s events with a smirk carved into your mouth. Both women lay wrapped together, bodies nude and pressed up to each other as they continue to sleep. You surely tired them out. 

  Thankfully and mostly dressed whenTony came wandering in, the band of his fellow brothers staying just beyond the room’s threshold, though it still didn’t make to hide the snarl creeping up your throat as the sudden intrusion. You take a sip of your drink as Tony scans the room, gaze flickering between the two women and you who bares an illuminated glare at him.

  “What the hell happened last night?”

  “We got her affirmative answer on the deal,” you answer with a raise of your glass in cheers before downing the last of your drink.

[ivoryghostyy]

— meet Cirius

「 image is not mine. it's sourced from pinterest. 」

「 note: look who's back after not posting for idfk how long. but hey, here's a fic, plus a new layout! haha... i have so much to edit, but anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this little idea i've pulled straight out of my ass. man, i could not get it out of my head. so, uh, have fun ig. 'til next time. buh-bye! 」

「 tw: swearing, mentions/implications of violence, threatening, obsession, manipulation, etc. 」

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human emotions are fickle, but for Cirius, they're practically a foreign concept. dull faces accompanied him wherever he went. they would bother him, talk to him, and feign interest. no mask, however, could completely cover the rotting desires humans hide.

it confuses him, really, but what can he do? if they entertain him, then playing along wouldn't hurt anyone. otherwise, he'd probably die of boredom. besides, he has a reputation to keep. lashing out would only destroy his own facade.

university wasn't doing him any good either, despite his well-maintained rank. he's perfect, and every single one of them could see that. they praise him, and they raise him onto a pedestal. it's nothing new, not interesting at all. his eyes don't spare any of them a glance.

so imagine his surprise when he comes across you. it was onky a brief moment—barely even a second—but he saw it. you weren't hidden in a shroud of grey clouds, you were the embodiment of the sun. your eyes sparkled brighter than any gem he had ever seen. and he's seen a lot of gems, so that says a lot.

you're.. different. and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued. how did he miss someone like you? he hummed, a finger tapping the fabric of his sleeve. a new student, perhaps? but why would anyone transfer so late into the year?

you scurried away before he could say anything. ah, he should have atleast gotten your name... but it's alright. his fingers weave through the soft knots of his light pink hair, a cold smile creeping onto his plush lips.

it doesn't take much to find you and your entire history. goodness, he should've found you sooner. you've been living like this for your entire life? you're barely able to keep yourselves afloat. he's exaggerating. the more he learns about you, and the more he watches you, the deeper he falls into the dark pit of obsession.

don't worry, he'll take care of everything. his darling wife deserves the best and only the best, after all. he'll talk to his parents and arrange a dinner with his future family-in-law your parents, throw in a few lies here, a few threats there, and it's smooth sailing towards your engagement.

surely, you'll agree, right? even if you don't, do you really have a choice? anything he wants, he will have. and you? you're no exception.

you pace through the bustling halls, weaving through the chattering human barricades as they march into another boring lecture. contrary to the relaxed pace of these students, however, you're scrambling to reach your own destination: the library.

since you're free for this period, you thought you'd take the time to look around the grand library. really, this is the only reason you tried so hard to get into such a prestigious school. your family wasn't well-off, but earn enough to keep a delicious meal on your plate and a sturdy roof above your head.

the polished doubledoors creak open, and without wasting another second, you're already scanning book-lined shelves. the forgotten book of herbal remedies, the book of lies, 101 ways to hide a body... wait, what?

deciding not to question it, you finally find a good novel to read. to nobody's surprise, it's dark romance because of course it is. happily, you sink into a comfy bean bag this makes me kinda jealous and lose yourself within the pages, ignorant to brown eyes watching your every move.

a shadow looms over you, and you barely have any time to react before you're pulled into a lean chest, arms wrapped securely around your waist.

"wh-"

"there you are, my precious wife!"

your brain is barely processing the situation. what is he talking about? who is he talking about? it takes a around a minute before you've pulled yourself back, landing not-so gracefully onto the bean bag that you were just sitting on a moment before.

"sorry, i think you may have the wrong person," you say, firmly.

you've never seen this man in your life, who the hell does he think he is? what did he call you? his wife? he better be joking. he's either mistaken or insane. probably the latter, hun. he's insanely in love with you.

"how could i mistake you for anyone else?"

and now he's pulling you along to his fancy car, talking about how he'll introduce you to his parents because apparantly, he's already talked to them about the wedding and-

what do you mean he's talked to your parents!? and they didn't tell you anything!? that's because he threatened them with your safety, but you don't have to know that.

the worst part? you left your book at the library!

could it be any worse? yes, it could. after dinner with your supposed parents-in-law, you pull him aside. he's happy to follow you, anticipating anything you have to say. are you excited too? he's already imagining all the fun you'll have together. cuddling with you, holding your hand, going on dates, spending the rest of his life with you-

"i'm sorry, but i'm not marrying you."

"..good joke, honey."

you're not joking? he falls silent. you've already left by the time he came back to his senses, and he's never felt emptier in his life. how do you think this man—someone who had been given everything he could ever need; who could have the whole world served on a silver platter if he asked—will face the rejection of the single person he's genuinely fallen head over heels for?

it's safe to say that his ego is absolutely bruised. don't even get me started on his heart. words cannot describe the world-shattering devestation he felt. no, he wouldn't stand for this. he's never taken no for an answer, and he certainly isn't starting now.

you will be with him, and he doesn't care if he has to shatter your legs just to make sure you never leave. let's hope it never comes to that, though. he quite likes it when you smile, but he supposedly wouldn't mind seeing you cry, either.

within the next few months, it's like the world is crumbling. your parents lose their jobs, your grades are suddenly dropping, you can barely earn enough from your part-time job to keep food on your plates—it's a mess.

you're struggling, and he knows it.

when you're at your lowest point, he'll pay you a visit. pitiful darling, you know he can make it all go away, right? he'll help you. like a demon tempting to grant your deepest, darkest desire.

"shh, don't cry, sweetheart," he'll take care of you.

don't worry, honey, he can make it all go away. it's not difficult to give you back all that he took away. everything you've lost can be placed right back onto your gorgeous little palm.

but at what cost?

your body.

your soul.

your mind.

your everything.

don't you see, honey? he would do anything for you. new clothes? he'll buy the entire mall. need a better house? how about a mansion? want the moon? he'll do his best to get it for you, no questions asked. you could have everything you could ever want and more.

it's a generous offer, lovely. all he asks for, in return, is that you give up. you were his the moment he saw you, and that might have been the biggest mistake of your life.

say yes, honey. it's the only option you have.

[nobrashfestivity]

Re- Stephen Ellcock

I'm being asked about this and I don't want to start some war or gossip-fest, so I'm just going to shut it all down if it becomes that, but in the interests of not be cryptic, I will explain. I want to say upfront that I am not mad at anyone or accusing anyone of anything and I can offer supporting evidence for different scenarios so if even Mr Ellcock reads this I don't imagine he would be offended.

Stephen Ellcock is a popular social media blogger collecting images and even publishing them in a book. He's got a very loyal following and his content I feel is good.

But for many years on instagram or when I was on facebook, I would see the same images I put on this blog and casually wonder if an image had come from me directly or indirectly. Certain images seemed like they were from obscure sources and the timing seemed odd for two people to discover at the same time, but you know that happens all the time too.

Today I checked his Instagram and scrolling through it I would say 50-70% of his images have been on this blog at one time. That too is not necessarily meaningful but it's a large number.

The trouble with tumblr is that people sources images of often from the same places and even if you're careful (and I try to be) not to get tumblr images, there are many ways that scans populate and get spread around and so someone may post something of yours they got anywhere but where you might imagine it (or pinterest where attributions go to die).

Many examples of this are places like auction houses which have good scholarship and photos, collating sites like PDR review, brain pickings other social media sites as well as non functioning old blogs or sites that once did lots of scans but have disappeared. I feel this is fine, most people do not do scans and those who do usually do not scan 100% of their material, it's about curation and creating a blog that reflects your taste.

Sometimes people are imitating you. There's a very popular art blog on instagram that was 100% taking my content every single day and in order and until I joined instagram, I had no idea.

So yes, I have wondered about Ellcock and not even specifically me but just tumblr because so much of what he posts would seem to be the kind of thing you see here. I have certainly seen Nemfrog's posts everywhere, you know, these things happen.

But, certainly you can have the same taste as someone. I have definitely posted things I later found to be on other blogs that I simply wasn't aware of and some that are ubiquitous, and it makes little difference, but I did not source material from said blogs, it just happened. You know, you discover Harald Sohlberg, look around for his paintings and there are not endless number of sources so you're probably getting it where someone else did.

I inadvertently posted scans by the great 50wattsbooks and I have seen many other that did too. Now I credit them but it was because of their scans turning up in a huge number of places uncredited. And I am not surprised as they have an amazing book collection and great scans. I have seen my own scans various places but I don't think it's malicious.

So my conclusion has been that many of us find the same things probably from similar sources. It seems like big coincidence with Ellcock but then again some of those astronomy pictures are public domain things published on the web by a lot of different sites since they don't violate copyright and I am pretty sure who originally scanned them is fairly obscure even when you try to find out.

Today, I just mentioned this in passing and someone mentioned some kind of thing about deathandmysticism and Ellcock. I don't know anything about it, but it was, somewhat conspiratorially, interesting.

And if he's getting it from tumblr, thousands of others are too on facebook and insta and twitter etc, I think he's just well known and now profiting off it and it makes him a more noticeable figure.

I hope this answer is even handed, I intend it to be.

[thotpuppy]

If you’re so vehemently against ai fanart what’s your take on fanmade graphics and edits that use stolen pictures from the internet? These fans didn’t go out with their camera to capture the images themselves, they searched through Pinterest and google and found photos taken by real photographers and, without asking permission, stole these images to edit and create into something else. Yet this practice is widely accepted amongst fandom, but the second ai is involved it’s akin to murder? Even when the fans have clearly uploaded said ai generations into photoshop to edit them first? Seems like a pick-and-choose double standard to me.

Okay first of all, let's address the fact that - going by the language you've used here - you've already decided how I feel about it, so why bother the pretense of "asking"? Dishonesty breeds Discontent. Don't lie to someone's face and expect them to be kind, yeah?

Secondly, almost every single person I know who works with image manipulation uses assets they DO have the rights to outside of specific actor's likenesses. There are millions of photos, graphics, illustrations, paintings, etc. that are open for free personal AND commercial use allllll over the internet and people use them liberally. And, actually, many, MANY of these people DO go out and take their own photographs, so I don't know where your misconception is coming from.

And, the big kicker - they also don't lie about it. They say when something is an edited photo, if it's not obvious.

Stolen images being used in edits is NOT widely accepted and is in fact generally pretty damn frowned upon in most art circles, and I absolutely don't support use of them.

Every single instance of fanart is a rocky road as far as IP infringement goes, but don't put fanartists on the same level as the industry professionals providing celebrity model photos. Unlike in AI and Art Theft, when those photos are used that's bringing attention to the figure in question, not taking it away from an actual creator.

Lastly, where the FUCK do you get off saying ANYONE is comparing AI use to murder? Persecution complex much? I get it, you wanna be a victim so bad, but you're the one stealing from people at YOUR industry level.

AI in general has a metric fuckton of potential to be something genuinely useful to artists of all walks, but the CURRENT industry is too unethically sourced. We need to get control of the market, get stolen works (including, once again, STOLEN LEAKED MEDICAL RECORDS) out of the training data, even if that means starting over from scratch.

Also, we need to get the bullies who think it's okay to do shit like spam a Machine Learning program with a single artist's work to harass them offline, target voice actors who have asked not to have their voices used into harassment campaigns, or lie to celebrities by selling them commercial rights to ML-generated fanart, which right now, they legally CAN'T DO. Because the copyrightable legitimacy of AI/ML works IS currently in debate in courts in the US. So.

Maybe instead of assuming everyone is out to get you, Anon, try not being a douchebag and stealing from fellow fanartists? And if you're gonna steal anyways, at least be honest and don't lie to people trying to convince them it's actually a digital illustration.

We can see the weird, fake blending. We can see the extra fingers, or utensils clipping through plates, or hands disappearing into heads, or shoes that don't end where shoes end. And while I'm not going out of my way to confront anyone about it, I'll just stay here on my own blog, blocking people who post AI, I am not the only person who is angry and disgusted at the lack of integrity and blatant disrespect.

[everthewip]

Ruin

 Unedited, unrevised. I wrote this based on a dream I had. I don't have a lot fleshed out for this, not enough to list genre and themes, but I can say it involves sapphic romance image from Pinterest; didn't have a source; will link if i find one

Music echoed from the city center as she guided me away from the crowds. I did not recognize the street she took. Electricity was in short supply and the magic had been focused on the festival, so the street lanterns were dark and cold. There is a reason folk go missing at this time of year; a reason these poorer districts see a rise in theft and murder every festival. Danger always lurked in shadows, but she moved through the darkness like a wraith; swift, silent, and sure of every step. Her hand squeezed mine as if she feared losing me, a silent challenge to the night – I dare you to steal her from me. My fingers were growing numb.

My head was heavy from the festival drinks, my thoughts twisted by incense that wafted from the tents of fortune tellers and witches. I had sought one out earlier in the night, though for what I could not say. An unseen thread had wrapped around my waist, a gentle tug that pulled me from the safety of home and into the throng of dancers and musicians, peddlers and merrymakers.

  It was in no hurry.  It let me pause to sample what delights the festival had to offer: sweet cakes with honeyed glazes and berries, drinks of every color that tasted of fruit and burned the throat (yet pleasant, despite the sensation), candies imported from lands I had never heard of, hot teas seeped in water from the deepest caverns… There were women from the deserts who sold shawls with sunlight woven into the threads. They shimmered and glowed, a small kiss of daylight beneath the festival stars. Mountain-dwellers showcased displays of exquisite jewelry, the gemstones mined by their own hands; hands hardened enough to wield a pick-axe, and yet steady enough to craft such delicate necklaces and rings.

There were sights still that my eyes had barely touched, but when I came near the witch's tent, the thread allowed my wanderings no longer.

It was silent inside; not even the music of the festival dared enter. A single lantern hung from the roof of the tent, casting a dim light over a round table. At its center sat a bowl, within which incense burned and filled the space with smoke and the scent of more herbs than I could name. It forced its way into my nostrils and down my throat, blurring my eyes.

“Sit,” the witch demanded and I jumped, for I had not seen her seated at the table, watching me. Without a word I obeyed, taking the seat opposite her.

Through the smoke, her form was little more than a shadowed figure, though it is rare witches show their true selves anyway. Her hands reached forward, her fingers long but youthful with sharp nails painted red. The incense smoke twirled around her fingers like ribbons and she began twisting them together, braiding the wisps as if they were solid until she had woven a circle of smoke. It hovered in the air and she lifted a single finger to it, piercing the inner edge to guide a tendril of smoke free like a stray thread. At the center of the circle, she used that single wisp to draw the shape of an eye.

“Look.”

And so I looked and the eye opened, and in its stare I saw a woman.

Her hair was golden and short, cut like a man's with shaggy strands that fell into her face. Her eyes were hazel, then blue, shimmering like sunlight on the open sea. When her lips parted, she laughed a melody.

Then she was gone. The eye closed and the circle faded into normal tendrils of smoke.

“Who is she?” I asked, my voice a whisper.

“Your ruin.”

“Someone to avoid, then...”

The witch's figure shifted and I fancied she had tilted her head.

“If you wish it. Now go.”

I stood, for one must never overstay their welcome in a witch's domain, but despite the dismissal I lingered.

“What do I owe you?” My hand hovered over my purse, but the witch only waved a hand through the smoke.

“Nothing. Fate brought you here. It is He you will pay.”

Her words made no sense to me, but I bit back my questions and left. Outside of the tent, the festival music filled my ears again and I briefly forgot everything the witch had just shown me.  

None of that mattered, not as I - hours later - drifted through shadows, holding fast to a hand that refused to let mine go.

We stopped at a building, squished tightly between several more just like it, though without the lanterns I could not truly see where we were. She pulled me through the unlocked door and into an entryway lit by a candle. It sat on a small table beneath a dusty mirror, its light flickering against walls with peeling paper and no décor.

This was not a home.

“Careful,” she whispered, tugging me toward a narrow staircase. We went slowly in the darkness, but she seemed to know every step and I trusted her. At the top, we stepped into a hallway, lit by a similar candle as the one downstairs and nothing else. There were doors on either side – some open, most shut – and from them filtered muffled voices and shifting lights. A man sat on the floor, leaning against the wall with a cigarette poised between his lips. His features were shrouded with so little light, but I could feel his eyes on me.

Without releasing my hand, my companion sought a key from her pocket and used it to unlock one of the doors. Once inside she locked it again and flipped a switch, turning on a stream of tiny lights that were strung up on the walls. They shed a subtle yellow glow, like miniature stars draped around the room. It must have taken barely any magic to keep them lit that night, even though some flickered, threatening to die out at any moment. The room itself was small, cramped, with only a wardrobe to offer any furniture. There was no décor, no sign that anyone lived in it, save for those lights and a pile of cushions and blankets on the floor. They were pushed close to the far left wall, with a sheer sheet that hung from a hook in the ceiling to form a canopy. Even in the darkness I could see a range of hue and fabric, the bed-space creating an exotic rainbow.

We stood quietly until I felt her shift on her feet, her grip on my hand loosening.

“It's beautiful,” I said to break the silence, though it was not a lie. As simple as the room was, there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

“It's nothing,” she laughed. “You should rest, you'll feel better after that wine.”

The wine had come from a land across the seas, bottled by fey (or so they claimed), and was as potent as it was bitterly delicious. I'd only taken a few small sips before I began to feel it – a lightness that warmed my blood and eased my worries, leaving little more in my head and heart than wonder and desire. It hadn't been quite enough to leave me inebriated.

“I'm not drunk.”

“No, but Sylvian wine has a way of getting to one's head.”

“So, you brought me here to sleep?” I almost laughed at how silly it seemed, but then I realized… I'd followed her without questioning why she'd led me away from the festival at all.

My heartbeat quickened as a warning flared in some distant part of me; a fear that I could be among those missing or murdered by the morning…

But it was a warning that went unheeded. Her hand squeezed mine and I feared nothing.

“Aye,” she answered, releasing me. “This was clearly your first festival and there are folk'a plenty eager to take advantage of a woman drunk on Sylvian wine.”

She parted the veil around her bed and eased herself down onto the cushions, watching me with those eyes as blue as the sea and a smile as confident as the sun. It had stunned me when I first saw it in the town center...

I had wandered into a crowd of dancers, with couples twisting and turning, moving to a fast beat that left me dizzy. Dancing had never been a love of mine and I hadn't meant to wander so close, but once I was amidst the merrymakers there was no getting free. Panic took hold of me. My head spun and my vision blurred. I would have fainted and been trampled beneath countless feet, had her hand not found mine.

She'd pulled me against her, holding me close, keeping me upright while her lips left a breathy whisper in my ear: “What's a flower like you doing all alone in a dirty place like this?”

Focusing on her and her alone had kept me grounded...

From the bed of pillows, she held out her hand and I took it without hesitation. I followed her under the veil, aiming to settle at her side, but she guided me instead to her lap. Her hand released mine, replacing it with her arms as they wrapped around me, her hold gentle. Positioned sideways, I tucked myself against her to rest my head on her shoulder, my lips and nose at her neck.

She smelled like smoke, like bonfires in the summer and the crisp burn of sweet wood. She smelled like spring water, a touch of cheap cologne that I'd never smelled on the men from my district. She smelled like heat and yearning, like summer nights and lazy mornings. Like everything I craved and needed.

I knew it was the fey wine giving me such fanciful thoughts. But it was not the wine that made me lean in and inhale her scent, my lips brushing against her neck as I whispered: “I love the way you smell.”

Something changed and my breath stilled. She remained silent, a tension rising that made me regret saying anything at all. It had been such a ridiculous thing to say, anyway, even if it was true. I lifted my head, an apology already on my tongue, but then she let out the softest of laughs.

“Are you a witch?”

“Am I a – no, of course not!” I didn't know a thing about witches beyond that they were powerful and terrifying, beautiful and deadly, mysterious and best left alone. I wasn't sure anyone even knew how to become one anymore, save for the witches themselves.

“I just had to be sure!” she said, her voice still light with laughter. “You are so unexpectedly… bewitching.”

“Says the woman who charmed me into her bed just to 'sleep', supposedly.”

“Well, what does one expect to do in bed besides sleep?”

Before I could answer, our eyes met and it seemed we both realized just how close we were. A gentle quiet settled over us. Her gaze held mine and then dropped, flitting over my face to settle on my lips. When they met mine again, there was a question lurking in the deep blue. I leaned in, my nose brushing against hers in answer.

Her lips were on me.

It was this, I realized, that I had been waiting for all night; perhaps even before I entered the festival. I could still taste the Sylvian wine on her lips and tongue… I drank it in, drank her in, and knew that nothing and no one would quench my thirst like this ever again. My hands were on her face and then in her hair, fingers caught in the short, golden strands. I shifted to straddle her and her hands found my thighs and squeezed. Nails scraped on bare skin and she dragged them higher, dipping her palms back and under my skirt.

I couldn't breathe.

I didn't want to breathe.

I wanted to inhale her, every bit of her, like the smoke of a festival witch's incense; filling my lungs, intoxicating every bit of my existence.

[615media]

The Influence of Social Media Photography on Real Estate Sales

The way in which we interact with one another today has been significantly altered by social media in many respects. Because of our cyber connections, the traditional forms of social engagement, such as communicating with family and friends, as well as business networking and marketing strategies, have been fundamentally transformed. The advent of social media has brought everything closer together, and easily accessible, and it offers instant gratification in a variety of settings and contexts. So where exactly does it fall within the parameters of the real estate industry? To be more specific, how does social media factor into the process of buying or selling a home?

People who are interested in purchasing real estate can benefit from photographs shared on social media platforms as it serves as an excellent resource and has a significant impact on every stage of the decision-making process. Before social media, the only ways to advertise a house were through road signs, word-of-mouth, and newspaper ads. These days, buyers are much more tech-savvy and aware of their options, which drives them to search online.

A recent study conducted by the National Association of Realtors found that social media has become an essential component in the process of acquiring new clients and closing properties across the industry. Below is a condensed version of the findings from the report:

77% of real estate agents make active use of social media in some capacity or another for real estate-related purposes.

47% of real estate companies report that leads generated through social media are of higher quality than those generated through other sources.

When looking for a new home, the internet is the first place that 99% of millennials and 90% of baby boomers look (as opposed to in-person referrals)

What are those statistics saying? Real estate businesses are sitting on an absolute goldmine when it comes to the use of social media real estate photography. If you want to be successful with this kind of photography, you must do it the right way by using professional property photography. This is the single most crucial point to keep in mind about this type of photography.  

It is true that you can publish a good number of social media posts directly from your mobile device, and the quality of those posts can determine how successful they are. If you want your listing to be taken seriously, as well as your reputation, investing in a professional real estate photographer is going to give you the biggest return on your investment, regardless of whether you are buying or selling a home. Look at the impact professional social media real estate photography has made on the real estate industry.

Forever Changed: Social Media’s Influence on Real Estate

Builds agents' credibility and allows them to stand out from the crowd

Real estate agents build their reputations in a variety of inventive ways. Social media, on the other hand, offers a quick and (often) cost-effective means of connecting with lots of potential customers. Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, and Snapchat are successfully utilized. Even Google+, LinkedIn, and YouTube are platforms where homebuyers, sellers, and real estate agents successfully connect. The more agents post and the higher the quality of their content, the more likely they are to establish a credible image, engage their audience, and stand out from their peers.

Creates exposure to a variety of potential buyers

Depending on their business model and clientele, some real estate firms may prefer niche marketing. However, social media presents a tremendous opportunity to attract and engage buyers from across the country and worldwide. Individuals who are relocating have the chance to connect with an agent and even "interview" potential agents based on their online persona.

Offers extensive networking opportunities and increased visibility

Real-time information, resources, and opportunities that might otherwise go unnoticed are more readily available to real estate agents, buyers, and sellers thanks to social media. Agents can expand their reach by networking with other agents, brokers, service businesses, and even retail and dining establishments. Real estate agents can be a source of information for homebuyers and sellers, especially when it comes to neighborhood information, advice on home improvement projects, and other types of resources these clients frequently require.

Saves time

Time is saved for buyers, sellers, and agents alike when links to listings are shared, particularly those with excellent, high-quality photos and videos. Although nothing beats seeing a home in person, prospective buyers who are not local or who want to get a sneak peek before setting up a showing can still assess whether a home might meet their needs.

Social media and property photography have unquestionably established themselves as a vital component of today's successful real estate buying, selling, and marketing strategies. They provide information at your fingertips. However, the quality of your photographs is the key to success...   Investing in professional social media real estate photography will help you achieve the success you desire by increasing your sales. Contact 615 Media, Tennessee's land, and property experts, to promote the visibility of your property.

[ritzy-biscuit]

Hi, I just wanted to ask you something if it's no problem to ask.

I really like the old comic feeling your arts have and I would like to know which brushes, textures and color palletes you use? Or any advices for that type of art and where I could possibly find sources that could help learn about.

Hiya!

I draw in procreate and use these products from Retro Supply

And recently I bought KraftTone by True Grit Texture Supply which has an identical halftone system to Colorlab, but I wanted to know the difference. That being KraftTone has their CMY values (slightly) darker to give a gritty feel compared to Colorlab who gives you brighter color.

Before either of these products were available I used Debaser by True Grit Texture Supply. Instead of mixing your own halftone colors, Debaser has them ready to go. Just import the color file and brush in where you want the color. I still use this when I’m lazy or don’t wanna put in the extra effort 😅 (it still looks great tho!).

All these products come included with textured paper, inkers, distress effects and color chart references all of which I use in my art. 👍 These are all available for photoshop, illustrator, and Affinity. And I think right now only KraftTone is available for Clip Studio Paint. I can go into more depth about these products if you want to in another post.

If you don’t know about the comic color process and print here’s a quick article that will help you understand better.

You can find comic references anywhere. I get mine from Pinterest! Searching “vintage/retro comics” will give you a plethora of images that you can click through and get more similar images or find neat websites like this one!

Details I take note of when starting a piece:

If the colors and blacks will be vibrant or faded

If the print will be clean or bleeding and shifted ( or if I’m using halftones at all or solid color)

If the comic will have an overall yellow tint from age

How will I ink the lineart

There isn’t really a guide that teaches you how to achieve every single iteration of comic style. You get your lineart and halftones down and from there you experiment with effects depending on what look you want to achieve, which is the fun part imo. But on the retro supply website under “resources” they offer tutorials how to achieve various effects and art styles.

If you plan on mixing your own halftones it’s easier color it like normal then translate that color to halftones. The products I use all offer a solid color palette to the corresponding halftones to make the process easier because it does get a tad confusing especially if you forget what color formula you were using ( it’s a pain to match the colors tbh b/c they’re not labeled), I should pre color my stuff, but I don’t and I end up fumbling over myself. Lol.

Hope that helped some! Cheers!

[pricemarshfield]

a little evil

[Image ID: the shadow of a woman with devil horns against a wall, colorized red and with the text “a little evil” on it. End ID.] (Image Source: original source site no longer up (Potaca.com), found on Pinterest.)

Pairing: MC x Poppy

Rating: M for milder-than-canon-typical sexual content (minors still DNI).

Word Count: 4068.

Summary: A canon-ish imagining of right after the final scene of Queen B, or: resolved emotional tension for the Poppy route. Requested by anon.

Warnings: Second person POV, drinking (not to the point of getting drunk).

Created For: @anyfandomfluffbingo​, filling out the “I guess today’s my lucky day”, drinking buddies, and public sex squares.

Read on AO3 here or below the cut.

The day of graduation, you and Zoey move as fast as your six-inch heels will carry you on your way to the ceremony. "Would you slow down?" you say, eyes more on your own feet than on any of the big ceremony here for her (and the rest of the student body, of course). It doesn't help that her muscles still ache from a night spent with Poppy, and then from staying up just thinking about it.

Zoey looks back at you with a wide smile, somehow not missing a single step. "I can't, Mom's got me on a tight schedule. Graduate by noon, day drink at the afterparty until dusk, and then the tour bus leaves at midnight."

"Don't tell me she's coming on the road with you."

Zoey's eyes go wide in horror. "God, no. Bunk beds and crappy dive bar food with no one to talk to but each other sounds like the set up for an episode of Snapped. But now that she's taking me seriously, she's showing me the tricks of the trade. We're meeting up in LA to prep for some label meetings." She leads the way up the stands and makes a beeline for Felicity who has, surprise, surprise, managed to secure the entire front row for herself.

"You're late," Felicity says, not looking up from her pamphlet.

"That's on me, Momma Wade," you say with a charming smile, on the off-chance she does glance over. "After everything we've been through, I'm having a little trouble saying goodbye to this place."

"You get used to it," says a familiar voice from behind you, and you turn to see Luis and Hayley climbing the bleacher steps. "Plus you get one hell of a reunion when you come back. I've only been gone a year, and my Alpha bros went nuts!"

With the same ditzy smile as her sister, Hayley adds, "OMG, I can't wait! Ohio still has no idea I'm here."

Zoey blinks rapidly a couple times, looking puzzled. "Wait...Hayley, if you graduated last year, shouldn't Ohio have graduated too?"

"People think that all the time, but I'm actually one minute older, so I get to do things one whole year before her."

That gets Felicity to look up at them at last. "Oh, honey. That is not how that works..."

"Maybe I could be of some assistance. After all, in another life, I was a professor."

"Ina!" Looking over your shoulder at the familiar voice, you see Ina following Luis and Hayley up the steps. "What're you doing here?"

Your old professor smiles, looking more relaxed than she has in months. "Celebrating the end of an era. The day that my students embark upon the world was always one of my favorites. Congratulations to you both."

"We won't be embarking on anything if they start without us. C'mon!"

Zoey hurries you down to the field, and before you split up to go to your seats, you give her a hug on the sidelines. "The next time I see you, we'll officially be one degree hotter."

"Like we need it," she says, beaming.

As you settle into your seat near the rest of the H's, Steinhelm takes the podium, looking every bit of 'let's get this over with'. With all the razzle dazzle of a kid's birthday party magician, she whips out her cue cards and starts to read verbatim. "'Graduates and honored guests, we've gathered here to celebrate the outgoing class of 2021--'"

Ford starts off the chaos, screaming, "Momma, we made it!"

All around you, the graduates start to cheer, and from the stands, you see Luis and some of the other returning Alphas raise their shirts to show 'GRADATES' spelled across their chests.

"That's not even spelled right!" Steinhelm says, mouth falling open in shock, somehow? This isn't even gonna be the worst thing to happen today, guaranteed.

Luis yells to the stage over the noise of the crowd. "Tripp's flight got cancelled. He was the 'U'."

Steinhelm's fingers blanch as they grip the sides of the podium, and you hear her heave a heavy sigh. In a quiet voice that still gets picked up by the mic, she says, "Stick to the script, Marguerite. It's almost over. Ahem. 'This year's crop of graduates are some of the brightest, most amazing trailblazers--'"

"Byew byew byew!" Carter yells, clearly having the time of his life.

You're hardly going to pass up an opportunity to let loose before college ends, so you join in with a loud whoop.

"That's it!" Steinhelm balls up her cue cards and throws them in the crowd, hitting Clint Burton in the face, full-force.

"Ow, my eye!"

"You wanna know the truth? I hated every second of this year! Namely because I was undermined at every turn! I cancelled the Person to Watch Award and shut down that awful blog...seconds later, it was back and worse than ever!"

Chloe raises her hand, as though there's the slightest chance of her being called on, and then starts talking anyway. "Okay, but, like, without The T, how else were we supposed to know who we're better than?"

Ignoring her, Steinhelm continues, "I banned parties, and the Alphas threw the biggest rager Belvoire's ever seen--"

"Oh, BTDubs, I talked to the national chapter, greased a few palms, and they told me to tell you...'suck it'," Liam says, trademark smarmy grin on his face.

The brothers whoop and cheer, and you watch as Steinhelm's existential crisis sets in. "I give up. You're all just a bunch of spoiled brats that are going to make the world a worse place...and the only saving grace is that I'll be dead long before any of you affect the world in any meaningful way. Now, in an effort to get you off of my campus as quickly as possible, allow me to introduce the student you voted as class speaker..." She rips open an envelope perched on the podium with the soulless, glazed-over gaze of a woman who got into education to make a difference. "And...of course, it's Bea Hughes."

Sweet.

The crowd erupts in cheers and applause as she sulks over to the chair waiting for her on the stage, and you make your way to the podium. "You all voted for little ol' me? Oh, you shouldn't have!"

Poppy jumps up from her seat and storms the stage, ripping the mic away from you. "We didn't. This 'vote' was faker than Ohio's bottom lip!"

"Well, I did," Carter says with a smile. "Bea killed it this year!"

Emi sits up to her full height to be seen over the rest of the crowd. "I voted for Bea too! She always knows what to say to soothe the savage beast within!"

"And who the eff are you?" Poppy hisses, nostrils flaring.

"...Emi Less? We had Stats together, and you told me to calculate the odds of you remembering my name?" She frowns. "...they weren't very high."

Erik interrupts her. "Bea! Bea! Bea!"

The chant slowly picks up speed until the entire crowd is cheering for you to take the stage. And you can't let your adoring audience down, now can you? "Sorry, Pop. The people have spoken." You grab hold of the mic and then give Poppy a shove before you can think too much about it, sending her over the stage's edge and right into Clint Burton's lap.

"Ah, my nuts!"

Jeez, overshare, much? You wait for the crowd to settle before looking out at the sea of your peers. "I've spent most of this year hunting down haters and making them own up to why they didn't like me. Most of them were full of it...but after hearing their stories, I can't think of a better way to end my time here than by telling my side of things. Without a doubt, Belvoire introduced me to some of the worst people I've ever met."

Your eyes flick to Poppy, almost involuntarily, thinking back to your first meeting. First and last memory of Belvoire, indeed.

"But it also introduced me to some of the best." You smile at Zoey, who waves a hand like you're in The Princess Diaries at the crowd who turn to stare at her and get a picture for their Picta. "My first days on campus were practically perfect. I mean...who else can say they've danced with Jaylen Riaz and watched Poppy throw a hate-fueled tantrum?"

"I forgot about that! She was all--" Liam rushes into the aisle so everyone can see before throwing on his best scrunched-up Poppy face, taking his voice up an octave, and stomping his foot. "'No. No! Everyone, shut up! This is all some sick joke!'"

Carter's laughing a little too much to make his impression of himself convincing, but it's so charming, you're sure no one cares. "Hey, 'babe'! Did you like the performance? I really worked on my dancing--"

"'How dare you help her, you stupid, ugly, pathetic idiot! We're officially over!'"

Poppy's pushed herself off of Clint by now, and her face is flushed red with rage. "One more word, and you'll sound like that permanently, Gill."

"I even bonded with woman's best friend..." You open your purse, and Cutiepie pops his head out, eyes wide at the attention. He barks once, and the crowd melts.

"He's so cute!" Abigail coos, finally showing something other than love of all things gothic.

"But the longer I spent on campus, the more immersed I got in the inner workings of Belvoire. The takedowns and overzealous fans...no matter what came my way, I rose to every challenge." You pause, wondering whether you should mention the gala...but nothing that happened there was fun, not really, so you skip to the good part. "Not to mention when I kicked Poppy's ass and introduced her to the family of algae growing at the bottom of the fountain.

Trixie's mouth drops open. "Damn...I always knew Helena was a savage."

"Now that I think about it, this is the first year where there hasn't been a Person to Watch Award in the school's history..."

Steinhelm brightens at that. "That's right! Maybe I did manage to do some good this year--"

"Soooo I'll take it upon myself to crown one and continue this great tradition!"

"Never mind."

While Steinhelm silently has an aneurysm, you detach the mic from the podium and observe the crowd. Not like you need to; there's only one person here you'd even consider giving this to. "I personally award the Person to Watch Award to Zoey Wade! She's about to take the world by storm, and in ten years, you're all gonna be telling people how you went to school with the Zoey Wade!"

The crowd cheers again as Zoey beams and basks in the well-deserved attention. "Oh, stahp."

"This year has been one for the books. I ruled over you as your first new queen since the beginning of Poppy's reign...which Poppy responded to by going into literal mourning."

"I had that dress burned the second she took it off," Veronica says, mostly directed at her livestream but loud enough for everyone to hear. "You're all welcome."

"And I've done everything I could've hoped to secure my throne, including banishing a less-than-loyal subject..." Your eyes flash over to Michael's empty chair. Rest in pieces, creep. "Making famous allies and putting fake allies in their place." For just a moment, you get stuck on thinking about cherry-bloody Poppy, but you brush past it. "I got in touch with my roots, unveiled the coward cosplaying as the fox in my henhouse, and showed everyone that if you're coming for the queen, you'd better not miss."

"Bro..." Ford says, looking up at you adoringly, which is only like...60% weird. "Bea saved me from the ultimate embarrassment. For real, we all need to bow down."

"Not to mention that hog wrestling thing was kinda hot."

Uh, good to know Carter's into country girls. You'll have to introduce him to some of your cousins who aren't gay. Anyway, back to the speech; it's your moment, hello? "Every incredible moment was all thanks to the fans that believed in me, voted for me, and semi-stalked my every move. But now it's time to move on to my next epic adventure, starting with launching my own company! It's time to take the skills I've learned in managing my own image and expand on a global scale."

"Would you wrap it up, Farmsville?" Poppy says, studying her nails with a poorly-feigned nonchalance. "I'd like to graduate before the school year starts again."

You roll your eyes and head to the edge of the stage to look at your adoring public one last time. "It was a wild ride going from the rolling plains of Farmsville to here, and I'm going to miss each and every one of you--"

"Me too?" Crispin asks.

Barf. "Like I said, I'm going to miss almost each and every one of you...but the person I'm going to miss the most is Poppy Min-Sinclair." Here goes nothing. Or everything. Your heart's in your throat but you've come this far, gotta see it through. "And I know she'll miss me too."

A gasp goes up from the crowd, and as you leave the stage to make your way to where Poppy stands fuming, every eye on the field lands on you two. Her teeth clench as she growls out, "Take it back, right now, Farmsville."

Oof, that's gonna hurt when the adrenaline stops pumping long enough for you to process it. In a low voice, just for her, you say, "No." Her eyes don't suddenly soften, her scowl doesn't slip into a smile, but her expression shifts, still furious but--calculating, enough that you find the courage to continue. "After two years at each other's throats, there's just one thing I need to say, here and in front of everyone..." Deep breath. You've got this. "Poppy, it's always been you. From the moment you first insulted me on the quad, there's just been this spark between us."

"It's called loathing. If you bothered to visit a single English class this year, you'd know that."

Poppy doesn't break your gaze as she says it, though, and you're stupid enough to hope that means something.

"I loathe you too, Pop."

Before she can get another word in edgewise, you grip the back of her neck and pull her in, crushing your lips to hers and tangling your fingers in her hair with a passionate kiss. She bites your lip again, the same spot as last night. You're reluctant to pull away, but you do have to graduate, probably, so you do, hurrying back onstage before handing the mic back to Steinhelm with a smile.

"Alright, Dean Steinhelm, go ahead and take us out."

"If only..." She steps up to the podium and waves her hands over the crowd with all the energy of just a shell of a woman. "With the power vested in me by your tuition payments, I now pronounce you Belvoire's graduating class of 2021. Now get the hell off my campus before I call the cops."

Ford rips his shirt off. Chloe jumps up, locking her legs around Carter's waist, and maybe you'll have to rethink introducing him to your cousin. You bound down the stairs of the stage, leading the way to the afterparty to celebrate saying goodbye to Belvoire University one last time. That's the plan, anyway, until you feel a grip on your arm, tight enough to bruise, yanking you out of the party procession.

"Ow! Who the hell do you--"

"What the fuck was that about?"

Poppy's not madder than you've ever seen her; that still goes to confronting her about Art Nakamura in the fountain, with losing Apodeia at a not-so-close second. But she's pissed, eyes boring into you with such malice that a lesser woman would've shrunk back. You're kind of tempted yourself.

"Well? Your own self-importance got your tongue?"

"No," you snap. "Guys, go on ahead, we'll join you."

Zoey looks at you with such pity in her eyes, and you kind of want to flip her off, but you know it wouldn't be that satisfying, since she's definitely right to pity you. Also, Felicity might kill you, and you'd rather not take that chance. Carter looks like he wants to stay and see how the chaos plays out, Veronica's got her phone out and is not-so-subtly taking pictures, and even Ina's half-smiling.

But they leave eventually, leaving you and Poppy alone on the edge of the field, Steinhelm walking past you and refusing to look at either of you.

"I--"

The thing is, you have no idea what to say. That you didn't mean it? Too cowardly, not after you've gotten this far. That you said it to fuck with her? A lie, and one no one would believe. That you meant every word?

Terrifying. But you're not backing out in the final quarter, so you take a deep breath and say, "I said what I've wanted to for ages, Poppy."

Poppy hasn't let go of your arm this entire time, and a thrill runs through you when she only tightens her grip, shifting closer to you. "Why?"

"Huh? What do you mean, why?"

"Why did you want to say it?"

You roll your eyes and pull away. "Whatever. I'm not feeding your massive ego more than I already have. You have my number if you want to reach me and actually talk about us."

"There isn't an us!" Poppy calls after you, and you let it roll off your back with only a little misery.

The sound of heels on Belvoire's cobblestone pathways follows you. You refuse to look back, give her the satisfaction of knowing she gets to you (more than she already knows, anyway). She follows you all the way back to the party house, a place you're pretty sure Liam's renting as a way to apologize/grovel for forgiveness. Or bought, actually, knowing this crowd.

To his credit, the bouncer doesn't ask any questions, just steps aside and lets you both walk in. You make a beeline for the bar, feeling in your bones that you need a drink before you can even start to have this conversation. Poppy slips onto the stool next to you, staring at your face with an intensity that's unsettling, and a little exciting.

"Can I just get a beer?"

Poppy rolls her eyes. "Seriously? Has your taste not evolved at all?"

You turn to look at her fully for the first time since ignoring her. "What do you want?"

"For you to answer my question! And a pomegranate martini."

That does actually sound kind of good, but you keep your expression annoyed anyway. "Oh, goody, I guess today's my lucky day since you won't fuck off. Do you need me to pay? I know money's tight, and I'm nothing if not a good date."

"This isn't--" Poppy glowers at you, cutting herself off. "My question?" You blink at her, confused, and she makes a quiet, frustrated noise, grabs both your drinks, and drags you into another room under the eyes of literally everyone. Well, more like a closet, but it's big enough that you're not touching, though you're close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of her. "Why did you say it?"

"I already told you, Poppy," you say, opening your beer and wishing you'd ordered something stronger. "I said what I've wanted to for awhile."

"So after you already beat me, you just--what, decided to confess you have feelings for me in front of the entire school?"

"What do you care?" you hiss. "We graduated. You don't have to see any of them ever again if you don't want to, so sorry if you're embarrassed, but--"

"I'm not embarrassed," Poppy says, getting further into your space, enough that your noses brush. "I'm mad. I don't need you trying to manipulate me for--what, every last bit of clout you'll get as the benevolent former Queen? Forgiving anyone, I see that you're playing right into your brand. Well, fuck you. I'm not going to be your pet project--"

"What the fuck? No, that's not--you think I'm trying to use you for my image?" 

It's not the dumbest thing you've ever heard Poppy say, but it's coming pretty goddamn close. You're not appearing like some angelic saint here; you're being honest with a group of people in a way that makes your heart race, makes you terrified, makes you want more than anything to have done this over a quiet night in. Except you were never going to, not with her. She wouldn't have listened to you.

Except that she's listening now.

"You're...not? No, that's bullshit. I know what I am, there's no way."

"It's not bullshit. Yeah, I know you're kind of a monster, but--"

"Rich and bitchy is your type?"

"But I care about you, asshole. Maybe I shouldn't! Hell, I know I shouldn't. But I do. And I'm not taking it back."

"You don't mean that. Really?"

Poppy seems genuinely confused, and the stupid, sentimental part of your heart (which is, to be honest, most of it) breaks at it. "Poppy, I like you, okay? Nothing more than that, no plots or schemes or anything. It's not--I'm sorry I did it like that, since you clearly--hated it, and me, but I just...it was stupid. I'm getting out of--"

"You mean that." She says it like she's just realizing it herself.

You sigh. "Yeah. Of course I do."

Before you can open the door, Poppy puts her hands on yours over the handle, shocking you into stillness. "Don't--give me a second to think."

"Don't give you a second to think?"

"You know what I meant, bitch." You do, and the insult's not said with her usual venom, so you wait for her, trying not to be obvious about the way you can't look away from her face, the little furrow between her eyebrows that means she's concentrating, the way her drink has oh-so-slightly stained her bottom lip, her fingers lacing through yours. "I'm not--used to that."

"To...?"

"To--people meaning what they say," Poppy says, and then rolls her eyes at nothing, glaring at you like you've done literally anything to piss her off. "When they say things like that. I don't..." She pauses, and you let her, much as you want to interrupt her and tell her you do mean it, you do, beg her to listen to you, to see you-- "I don't know what to do with that."

"What, and you think I do?" You laugh. "Poppy, my first and only other relationship ended because she moved out of town and just didn't tell me. And I was 14, so it barely counts. This is--terrifying. Not that you're--actually, no, you are terrifying. But you're good terrifying. This is...I feel like I'm going to fuck up and ruin things. I feel like I have." 

"You haven't," Poppy interrupts. "I'm not promising anything, but you haven't ruined it. Yet. I'm sure you can find a way."

"Oh, fuck you," you say, a little confused and a lot happy, and you pull her in. Poppy melts into it, softer than she has in any of your other trysts, arms winding around your neck. With her heels on to your sneakers, you're of a height to each other. It makes it easier to pull her in, hands on her hips. Poppy pulls back, though she doesn't stay gone for long, pressing quick, sweet kisses to the column of your throat, taking your breath away. "You do--ah--realize this door doesn't lock, right? Anyone could walk in?"

"Let them," Poppy says, voice low, sending a shiver up your spine. "You already told everyone something's happening. Show them how much you need me."

And she sounds, just a little, like she wants you to show her, too, so you grab her hand, press a quick kiss to her palm to watch her shiver, and bring it up your skirt. "I need you. Only you. Always been you, Poppy."

She kisses you again; you can feel her smiling into it. You can't help but smile back.

[leupagus]

Don’t Trust Tumblr, Please

So I’ve seen this post floating around a lot, and the pictures in it are immensely powerful. And almost all of them are real. 

Almost.

One picture, though, bothered me—not because it looked fake, but because it looked like the moment before a truly horrific tragedy, and I was troubled by the idea that I was looking at something that perhaps only moments later resulted in death. It was this picture: 

So I did a quick image search

and found that it was all over pinterest and twitter and such, which are... unhelpful sources at the best of times. But I did see the picture posted on Reddit, which is a cesspool but usually is pretty good about sourcing its shit. And: 

Sure enough, when I looked up the trailer, here was that exact moment:

Welp.

But why does this matter? In the dozen or so pictures of that really great post, one of them wasn’t a genuine moment of protest against or confrontation with an oppressive, bigoted authority. That’s not a big deal, right?

Maybe not. But it shows how easy it is to sneak in fake information, misleading information, or just wrong information into posts that are largely accurate. And if you’re scrolling through and think “90% of this is stuff I agree with, the other 10% is probably fine too,” you’re more apt to digest the fake stuff along with the real stuff. 

This is particularly important right now, when we’re on the eve of US elections that will quite literally decide our country’s fate for the next fifty years; we cannot, CANNOT trust the things that are reblogged onto our dashboard, even by our good friends (the person who reblogged this onto my timeline is a friend who is imminently trustworthy, for example). We have to be mindful, we have to check sources, we have to consider what we’re looking at.

And that’s not fun! That’s not what tumblr is here for, for most of us; God knows I’d much rather reblog the 1000th gifset of Schitt’s Creek or some shit. But unfortunately, social media isn’t just a place to have fun anymore; it’s been weaponized, quite literally, by people who want us to believe shitty things and are very, very good at sneaking those shitty beliefs into places where we won’t notice them until they’re part of our own ideology.

This isn’t a command that you have to source every single picture or bit of information you reblog; but it is a request that you stop to think. Humans tend to chase the feeling of validation and confirming their own beliefs, and that’s totally understandable. But don’t mistake validation for the truth.

[the-courage-to-heal]

10 Self Love Self Care Exercises:

• Write yourself a self love letter: Tell yourself all the loving things you wish you could hear from someone else, but in a letter to yourself. Share why you’re worthy and wonderful as a trauma survivor. (I’ll send you a Self Love Letter here, btw!)

• Look in the mirror and notice five things you like about yourself: No matter if they are small or large, find five things you think are beautiful about your body.

• Write a thank you letter to your body: Your body helps you live every single day. No matter its limitations, it’s doing its best. Thank it!

• Make a list of ten things you wish someone would tell you right now: Then go ahead and tell yourself those things, reading them aloud to yourself.

• Validate your emotions: Go through all the main emotions (anger, sadness, happiness, fear, etc) and validate them. Say something like “I accept your presence and invite you into my heart, emotion.”

• Hug yourself: While you do this, repeat “I am safe” or a similar affirmation!

• Go on a date with yourself: Take yourself somewhere special. Bonus if you talk to yourself like you’re on a date, too! Share kind thoughts with yourself and enjoy your own company for a bit.

• Dream about your future: Imagine living your absolute dream life. Maybe even make a Pinterest board with images of that dream!

• Forgive yourself: Say “I forgive myself for…” and finish that sentence with whatever comes to mind. Try this until you feel that emotional release you really need.

• Write yourself a love poem: Try this from the point of view of a friend or lover-what would they write about you?

source

[acourtofsnakes]

Kyr’am - Rogue Chapter 5| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: Sick of the countless failures, Moff Gideon decides to call in the big guns. 

Warnings: Not many in this one, but mentions of violence(brief), brief mention of suicide, (literally barely touching on it), does another cliffhanger count as a warning?

AN: Ooooooo, new people 👀

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Wordcount: About 2184, a short one this time for introduction purposes

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar   @weirdowithnobeardo 

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 

Mando’a translation: Kyr’am - Death 

The atmosphere in the light cruiser was… tense. Beyond tense, actually. The tension as almost a living thing, vibrating throughout the room and threatening to explode into destruction if someone said but one thing wrong. 

Moff Gideon stood at the head of the huge table, staring at the holo-image in the middle of it with a look of distinct distaste. His hands were clasped behind his back as he surveyed the image, a young woman wearing a cloak, fire in her eyes and a ridiculously high bounty above her head. His anger and disappointment were evident, obvious to the men and women seated around the table before him. 

There was a break in the air, and then a young woman, Gideon’s Comms Officer and assistant, decked out in the dark grey green uniform walked in. Her even, regimented steps echoed on the floor and she stopped a little way away, offering a quick salute, “Sir, I have just received the report you requested from our spies in the field.”

The air tightened in the room, the people seated around the table holding their breath, hoping it was good. Hoping it wasn’t what had been rumoured. 

Gideon looked away from the table, seeing what his people were holding out for. He turned to his assistant, nodded for her to continue. 

The woman looked across the table, a glint in her eye and a faint smirk dancing across her lips fleetingly. “They got in touch with the contact who was representing you. Apparently, the hunter succeeded in finding the target.”

The collection of people around the table sagged in relief, one even going so far as to rub his eyes as he let out a sigh. 

The assistant couldn’t hide her smirk this time, allowing it for a few seconds, “And then he went rogue.”

Gideon knew this already, but this is a punishment for the people that promised him he’d get what he wanted “Rogue? What do you mean by that, officer?”

“He found the target and began to bring her back as requested. They got into an altercation at another planet, some witnesses said there was a fight in a back alley and the last they saw was the target dragging the hunter back to his ship.”

The table was still, dread beginning to curl around the room like a snake, twining around feet and legs and flicking out a tongue to taste the danger that lingered on the horizon. 

“And then?”

The assistant’s voice came out clear, almost disinterested, “And the next thing that we have, is the tracker and puck being destroyed. As of half an hour ago, no one knows where they are.”

Gideon dismissed her then turned to the table. He sighed, looking at the man who had recommended the Hunter this time, “’The best there is.’ That is what you told me, captain. ‘He’ll have her within a week and be back here to collect his reward.’ Well, captain, it’s been a week.” He spread his hands, his eyebrows raising in a mock expression of wonder. He looked around the room, then back at the captain, “Where is she? Are you hiding her under your seat?” 

The captain swallowed harshly, a sheen of sweat crawling over his skin. He kept his hands under the table because they were shaking, “N-no, sir.”

Gideon shrugged, that false wonder still in his voice too, “Then where is she? I took a great risk in following your advice. And it hasn’t paid off.”

“Sir, please! I didn’t know this would happen. I thought the bounty on her would be enough to keep him straight. My sources said he was running out of money, that he was exchanging favours instead of credits for the repair of his ship. He couldn’t have turned that money down. I don’t know what happened, maybe she tricked him. Used her power to-“

Gideon’s hands slammed onto the table, echoed only by his snarl, “Enough.”  

The captain cut off, unable to stop the pitiful whimper. No one moved, no one looked at him. They all knew what was inevitably coming. 

Gideon pointed at the pain, “Don’t you dare try to make a fool of me. It’s on your authority that this has gone wrong again.” He straightened up, “Every single one of you is to blame. Each one of you let me down. You will be punished. As it is, I have found other means. Expensive means.”

A lady lifted her hand, trembling. 

Gideon’s eyes slipped to her, his eyebrows raising just slightly. 

The lady swallowed, “Everyone knows she hasn’t used that power since she was a child. As far as we know, it doesn’t even exist in her anymore. I.. what’s the point?” 

Gideon looked at her, his dark eyes simmering but he said nothing. 

Only for a man across from the captain to speak up, “She’s right. They say if one of those types doesn’t use their power, they forget how to wield it. The Child repressed his powers for decades.”

Gideon was impatient now, waved his hand dismissively, “And then used it repeatedly in presence of the Mandalorian. It can come back. I have proof that it has. She used her power to heal him.”

“But, sir, we don’t know that-“

The atmosphere in the room noticeably shifted again. This time, the danger became something so much more. 

It became a truly living thing that pressed against the traitors around the table. It licked down their bones, caressed their minds but it sung a song of death and destruction. 

The door slid open, and then a figure walked into the room. 

He was clad head to toe in black, a black so dark it seemed to suck the light of the room. 

His tall, lithe body was armed with weapons of every variety, everything one could possibly imagine and more that were only rumoured, weapons that had been made just for him. 

He stalked into the room with all the ease of a predator walking into the den of some small, helpless animals. And relished in the sheer power he had without even trying. 

The harsh lighting of the room glinted off the blade sheathed down his back. The scabbard was engraved with symbols, symbols that had long since been used. The hilt was as black as his outfit, and intricately carved. If he had unsheathed it, the blade would have been as deep as obsidian, and so sharp it could have sliced off someone’s hand with a mere whisper. 

He stopped at the opposite end of the table to Gideon, shoulders back, posture tall and at ease, but coiled beneath the surface, waiting to strike. 

A hood covered his face, gold embroidery picked out by the lights and snaking around the edges of the hood. 

No light pierced the shadow that fell over his face, keeping him anonymous.  

Clearly the captain realised he wasn’t getting off this ship, because he suddenly broke the deathly silence by laughing. “Seriously? Is it dress up day or something?” He looked around the room at the horrified expressions looking back at him, “What? Are we supposed to be scared or something?” His arrogance was barred by the sweat pooling into the neckline of his uniform, the frantic pulse at his throat.

The night-clad figure said nothing. Merely rested his gloved hands on the table. A simple act. 

But the air in the room vibrated, a warning. 

Gideon inclined his head toward the figure, “Thank you for coming. You understand that I would have left your services be if these fools hadn’t failed me.”

The cloaked man nodded once, a slow incline of his head that somehow said everything he needed to. That he wouldn’t even have paid attention otherwise. 

Another woman at the table, a general, inquired quietly, “His services, sir? Does this mean-“

“Yes, General. It does. Never in my life have I been so spectacularly let down by a group of people before. You were supposed to the best in your fields, yet you couldn’t give me one tiny little girl.”

The woman swallowed, nodded and looked at the table in submission. 

Again, the Captain added another nail to his coffin, “You’re giving this freak the job? If we couldn’t find her, if even Trandoshans and Troopers and two Mandalorian’s can’t get her, what makes you think he’s qualified?” He stabbed a finger toward the figure, who remained silent, a predator watching their next mean. 

Gideon glared at him, losing his patience with this captain, “Because he is the best there is.” 

A snort from the foolish captain, “Oh? And why would you bring him in just now? Why not before?” 

Gideon’s glare could have cut through metal, his words clipped, “Because he has a very unique skill set that I would rather not be associated with using. However, because of this situation and the necessity of obtaining her, it makes him the most qualified.”

“Skill set? Like what? Is he going to bed the girl and then drag her in? Or does he have a-“

The captain’s words were cut off with a gurgle, and his eyes went wide. His chair pushed back and then he was rising from his seat, as if pulled up by strings. Every limb of his body was frozen, rigid. Like he was no longer in control. 

The figure had finally moved, lifting one of those gloved hands in a gesture that was almost casual. He tilted his head within his cloak, and a voice like silk slipped out, far too soft, far too seductive to belong to anyone good, “Perhaps you’ve been living under a rock and you’ve simply never heard of me.” His voice was crooning, desirable. It belonged to the deepest pits, full of monsters and creatures. It was the very darkness that plagued you, seduced you in a voice like honey – and then devoured you. 

Undiluted terror dawned on the captain’s face. He flinched, twitching, trying to claw at the invisible hold on his throat that was slowly crushing his windpipe. 

The cloaked figure lifted his head, like he was scenting the fear oozing from the captain. 

This man was a dark legend. A rumour that you had to be crazy to whisper, for fear of unleashing his dark wrath upon the speaker. Many, many people had heard the rumours of a hunter so precise, so ruthless that he left no trace. People went missing, and then showed up days later completely unrecognisable, bodies so destroyed that even the most advanced robots couldn’t extract enough DNA to give the victims a name. 

His work wasn’t messy though, that’s what made him so terrifying. 

It wasn’t just clean and efficient. It was beautiful. This was a man that relished in his skillset, lived for the hunt and the kill. Breathed it. It ran through his veins, worked the muscles of his heart. 

The fiercest warriors had dropped to their knees and wept for their lives before him. Mere mortals had died just from the sight of him.

As soon as he got the scent of someone, they may as well have ended their own lives to spare the pain. 

Many had. And it still didn’t stop him from finding the bodies and playing.  

The rumours also whispered that he wasn’t human. That he had sold his soul but even the vilest of monsters hadn’t wanted it. They’d taken one look and given it back. He wasn’t born by the Maker; he was something else entirely. He had no trace of soul in him aside from the Force, which he had twisted and utilised for his formidable beauty and indescribable actions.  

Gideon watched him play with the Captain, “You will receive the payment on her head and more. We know your prices and are grateful for your services, you may have whatever you need to assist you.”

The man flicked a finger and the Captain dropped to the ground, some guards dragging him away, “Just stay out of my way. You can keep the kid and the Mandalorian, but the girl is mine when you’re done with her.” The possession in his voice when said the word, “mine” sent a chill down the spines of everyone in the room. There was no room for disagreement, for challenge. They would finish what they needed to do with you, and then you would be given to him. Probably wrapped in a bow. 

Then he was gone, walking out of the room in a preternatural silence. 

This man… he didn’t just exude fear. He was fear. His were the eyes in the dark that watched you walk home.  He was the voice that whispered when no-one else could hear. His breath was the kiss of ice that licked down your spine when you were alone, making you lock the doors, pull the bed covers up higher. But he was like smoke, he seeped through the cracks, through carefully built defences and invaded, slumbering like a beast within, without his host even realising. 

He was death. 

And he was coming for you. 

Previous chapter| Next chapter

[the-midnight-feline]

¤¸¸.•´¯`•¸¸.•..>> So this piece is actually part of the Piliin mo ang Pilipinas Collab event hosted by @lumpiang-toge, you guys should seriously check this out since the works posted there are such good reads ❤️️<<..•.¸¸•´¯`•.¸¸¤

this is the first time i've joined a collab, (ngl i thought i was waaay in over my head lol) i'd like to thank a friend of mine, Dylan, (won't tag his blog just cause, loves you for reading it !) thanks so much for the encouraging words ❤️ and of course Mama Rae (@hq-girl-next-door) for the advice on the banner**❤️

**For the banner I did, I took the image from pinterest, if you guys know who the artist is, please let me know so I could properly give credit to them :)

Tags/TW: Mutual pinning-ish, friends to lovers, fluff to angst, Cheating, swearing (I think theres one or two in there)

(A/N: Please don't get too confused /-\, the italic parts is you recollecting the past, it comes and goes (。♡‿♡。))

WC: 3.8k ;-; didn't know it get that long

Pairings: Tendou Satori x fem!Reader

Summary: It all started with a simple crush, you wouldn't have guessed that it'll be more than that, It was a dream come true to loved and be loved by the person you loved, but not all dreams end good, some end as a nightmare.

“You like the Guess Monster, like THE Guess Monster?!?!” your friends shouted in unison, looking at them frantically as you’re in the gym watching the guys warm up for a practice match and the way they shouted had the sounds of balls hitting the floor just below where your group sat, you willed yourself to look at the who were the people below you guys trying repress the blush you feel creeping on your cheeks, swallowing that lump on your throat as you peaked just a little over the ledge and saw his red hair. Internally cussing out your so-called friends, you tired to act like you calm and collected as he was looking up at the bleachers, maybe trying to guess which one in your group, who was also looking over at whoever heard them, liked him, shaking his head, chuckling toward Ushijima and Semi who was already making their way to the court to get this warm up started.

A single tear began rolling down your cheek as you remembered how it all began, your friends’ sudden outburst in the gym gave you the opportunity to talk to the guy you’ve been crushing on when you first saw him in the opening ceremony just something about him drew you to him and you were adamant on getting to, at the least, know him. Sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, opening the memory box you and your husband made a few months after you started dating.

Semi knew your friend, he actually liked her and from that outburst of theirs at the gym, he 89immediately thought of a way to hit two birds with one stone. “hey, y/f/n, I heard you guys at the bleachers, sooo” scratching he neck out of shyness “which of your friends like our Tendou? Maybe we could setup a date or something?" He really liked your friend and would honestly do anything to get her on a date, she pointed to you, the quiet in of the group, usually the source of rationality and guidance, the one that acts like the mediator of the group. You really always kept to yourself, didn’t really want to attract attention towards yourself. Semi was skeptical at first, you the quiet, shy girl of the class liked that loud ass friend of his? Maybe y/f/n was pulling his leg, she can’t be serious.

A bitter laugh escapes your lips as the memory of your first date comes crashing on you as see the pressed flower from the little hole in the wall café near the school, Semi was the one that found that café and planned every detail of the date.

As you and your friend were walking towards the café Semi told her about, you were itching to just keep hitting your friends back “why the hell did you fucking agree to this?!!” you hissed at your friend, you were practically shooting daggers at her for saying yes on your behalf and you didn’t even know what she agreed to but she told you to get dolled up, silly you, thinking that it’ll be just a girls day out, but peering over her shoulder as your guys walk out of the dorm, you see her texting Semi, thinking maybe it was him asking for notes since they were in the same class. She led you to this small café and you guys sat at a corner booth, making you sit inside by the wall, you really thought nothing of it, until you saw that distinctive red hair bounding towards your booth. Your palms got a tad sweaty, nerves getting the best of you, a million thoughts racing in your mind that you didn’t notice that the Tendou Satori was there taking the seat opposite of you in the booth, the ever infectious smile directed towards you and you alone. Seeing as you and Satori were basically having a silent conversation with just your smiles, Semi and your friend made a discreet exit and left you two be. Little did you know, he often saw you around, he knows you like shounen jump as much as he does since he sees you go to the store he usually goes to, he knows what snacks you liked since he usually goes out at the middle of the night to get some snacks of his own at the convenience store around the corner. He sees you in the library with your nose buried in some book when he follows Semi there just to annoy him. Tendou didn’t tell anybody about the girl he liked from afar, he knew he’d scare you off, no one wanted to date a Monster, or that’s what he thought.

Looking back, that impromptu date was what started the relationship with Satori, a soft sob escapes your lips as tears gently fall on the first picture you have together, he suddenly rang you up and asked you to go to the mall with him. In the picture, he had his arm wrapped around your shoulder while you were hugging his waist tightly, seemingly scared that being with him was a dream you don’t want to wake up from.

Getting out of the shower, you hear your phone ring from under your pillow, confused as to who might that be since it was an unknown number calling you, curious you answered it. “hey y/n! I know it’s kinda out of the blue but, you wanna go to the mall with me?” shock was evident in your body, it was Tendou! Your thoughts was scrambling, you know you didn’t get a chance to give him your number before you guys parted ways on your first meeting since Coach Washijo made Ushijima contact both guys for a weekend practice. You knew the coach was a hot head and would make anymore run 50 laps if they were late and that was a few weeks ago, a worried Tendou called out to you again “uh…y/n? If you have other plans I totally under-“ blinking back to the present “I’d love to go! Lemme get ready and I’ll meet you down” you cut him off midsentence hearing a small chuckle at the other line “don’t make me wait too long ok?” he said in a teasing tone which made you giggle on the line “yes, yes Satori, I’ll hang up so I could get ready ok? See you!” it took every ounce of self-control to not shriek the whole conversation, once he hung up you were practically jumping on your bed out of pure joy, but then you remembered that he’ll be waiting, you quickly snapped out of it and looked through your dresser for a decent outfit for going out with Tendou, you quickly settled with a simple get up of a long sleeved shirt and pants with some sneakers on, you excitedly exited your room, to meet up with Tendou, hoping you haven’t made him wait too long, turning the last corner you see him outside your dorm, almost wearing the same thing as you, even the color of your shoes match, biting your lip to stop a stupid smile from taking over you walk up behind him, gently poking his side, his sudden jump made you giggle as he took in all of you, a smile makes its way on his lips and eyes as he himself lets out a chuckle. “y/n? Are you copying me?” shaking your head, letting a small laugh out “Satori, please you’re the one copying me here” he just shook his out of amusement when he saw the glint of teasing in your eyes before he offended his arm to you like a gentleman would, the small action made you faint blush.

You two spent the day just walking around the mall, just browsing from store to store, having just a blast at all the random comments he makes, the last stop you guys make was the arcade, you guys played all sorts of games, air hockey, tried your luck at a pachinko machine and Tendou even tried the basketball game, which he surprisingly good at that he won a lot of tickets getting you a small rubiks cube, but near the back of the arcade something caught your eye, a purikura, Tendou saw where your eyes went and with a small smile he took your hand and walked towards the machine, and ushered you in the booth, he felt at comfortable around you, he would’ve never guessed that you were a crack head like, random outbursts of ideas and thoughts spouted from you made him laugh as you spent time together. He quickly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him, a flash went off, that was the first shot, with the blush creeping on your cheeks you hid your face under your hair and hugged him another flash went off, that was the second shot, he tipped you head up, making you look at him, his infectious smile directed at you as another flash went off, and the last shot was of him kissing your forehead. You were left speechless after that whole scenario, seemingly in a dazed as he guided you out and grab the prints of the photos. That’s how you guys ended the date, he held your hand in his all the way back to the dorms, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek as you parted ways.

Rummaging further through the memory box, you see all the mementos you both kept from your dates, a few fallen leaves, a couple of pretty rocks, stickers, napkins, flowers, pictures, the cork from the bottle of champagne you drank at your wedding. More tears fell from your eyes as you dug through all the stuff in the box, who knew you both collected a lot of things in just a couple of years. What made you sob so hard was the acceptance letters you both got when you were selected as the few students for the incoming year.

A few months before graduation, you both got accepted into a culinary school in Tokyo, you were ecstatic as this means you and Tendou could get a place together since your parents already gave you two a small amount to get a place near the school so you two could still practice and create new dishes together, it was really no surprise to your friends or the whole volleyball team that you two would get into culinary school, you’ve always had a thing for cooking, you’d often come their practices with some bento boxes for all of the guys so they don’t have to go out and spend for food, on the weekends, the kitchen was his domain he’d let you watch him bake and oftentimes let you help him out. It’s often that the whole group get together during the weekends, you cooking for them while Tendou makes that dessert. For some reason, they got jealous of how your relationship started, it was as if all the pieces just fell into place at the right time, you two together just seemed right like you two were always suppose to be with each other. There’s always been a carefree air around him, it calmed you down so much that it helped you be more open or that’s how you saw it. You were the opposite of him always worrying, always, over thinking, being overly critical of your actions and how you overwhelmed with everything so you turned to anything that’ll help you divert your mind but once he was in your life it just got easier. He voice would immediately calm the voices spewing negative thoughts I had your head.

Looking around your room, you see pictures of you together, your graduation picture, the picture of you guys on the front of the school, the picture of your guys graduating culinary school, a photo of you two at the restaurant where you two both apprenticed and next to that was the candid shot of his proposal there, a mix of joy and hurt shoot through you as you the memory come rushing back to you.

The way he sheepishly confessed that he asked the manager if he could do his proposal there and invite your family and friends for that surprise. “Hey y/n, come with me, a customer just complained about the sauce you made being too salty, I’m not taking blame for that!” an angry chef came shouting at you, shocked and anxiousness dunning through you, you timidly follow behind him, thinking how you could screw up a simple sauce like that, your thoughts were everywhere, but once you stepped outside the kitchen you noted that the dining area was dimmer then usual, but maybe that’s because you’re used to the bright lights of the kitchen, you hear a soft melody playing, it’s one of your favourite songs ‘I Choose' you’ve always related that song to your relationship. On the far wall you see photos of you together, looking around you see familiar faces, his and your parents, your friends, the Shiratorizawa boys were there even the coach came!

The euphoria you felt from having everyone who had been part of your relationship through the ups and downs just had you in tears, your head was fuzzy with the mix of a dozen emotions swirling in you, through a blur of tears you see him kneeling in front of you, he let out a huff of breath to calm his nerves before asking you the question “y/n, my love, my baby, my better half, my paradise. You’ve stuck by my side through my highs and lows, loved me unconditionally, took care of me whenever I got sick, urged me to follow my dreams, guided me into being a better guy, especially with my chocolate making you supported my dreams like no other can, you, you made my world complete, you made me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time, you gave me your heart to cherish and protect. You made my life whole” the words flowed out of his mouth so freely, every word making more tears come out of you, every word so heartfelt, with shakey hands we presented you a pear cut yellow emerald ring “My Paradise, would you do me the honor of being my paradise for eternity?” no words could express how happy you were nodding your head, trying to stop happy tears from falling a hushed ‘yes’ slips past you lips as he stands to slip the ring on your left hand, pulling you in for a tight hug, whispering endless I love you’s and thank you in your ears as the people around you cheered for the newly engaged couple.

Biting back another sob, you feel fresh tears streaming down your cheeks as your eyes land on your wedding photo above the bed, he loved you enough to marry you, he was yours and you were his, you can’t help but stare at the framed photo, he had that infectious smile of his that made you fall from him the day you saw him. He has you up in his arms as your arms were wrapped around his neck, pecking a sweet kiss on his cheek. You asked him many times if he’d like to blowup another photo from your wedding, he simply shook his head and wrapped you up in his arms “you’re perfect in any picture of us, but in that one you look like the most perfect human being in existence and I’m just lucky to have you in my life” you basked in his love and affection on those simple words pulling him closer and burying you face on his chest, inhaling his sweet scent “I’m lucky to have you Tori, lucky to be called your wife” placing a chaste kiss on his chest as you look up to him with love-struck eyes. This was it you guys moved countries after your wedding to France since Tendou was offered a job at a famous pâtisserie there, all you wanted was your husband happy, wherever you guys may be.

You never really cared where you two were, as long as you were together, you could get lessons on the French cuisine as Tendou works, that was the plan before you guys flew out. You worked hard to learn the basics, you’d often have Tendou taste test all your creations and you’ll you the same for him since he likes to experiment with different flavor combinations, things were great the first few months of moving cross countries, you enrolled in a cooking classes there to build up your repertoire and after a few weeks of learning a few new techniques you've decided to look around for places you could work at just to keep your body busy again. You've decorated the apartment the way you liked it and how you think Tendou would like it, just adding different odds and ends giving it a familiar vibe. This place was your starting ground.

When you got a job at the nearby bistro, Tendou didn’t really mind it, since he’d often come home a bit later then usual saying something along the lines of making things in the experiment lab with the other chocolatiers at the shop to have something new for the upcoming season, in turn you thought nothing of it since you do work nights after getting a gig in a restaurant in town as well, it also means you could still have time to make his dinner and keep it warm for when he gets home. You two actually got into an argument when you got that gig since Tendou was adamant about keeping you in the apartment after the morning shift at the bistro so you don’t work yourself too hard, he wanted to start thinking about getting a kitten to keep you company when he’s out working but you argued back that you didn’t wanna feel like mooching off of him even though he said it was fine, he loved coming home to a warm meal that you made with love and gets more time to spend with you, but he did cave in after a few bats of your eyelashes.

It was perfect, you both were doing what you were passionate about, you two scheduled your offs near each other’s so one could take care of each other after a long day. But there was this weird feeling creeping in you but you simply don’t know why it was there, you and Tendou always kept communication open since you two do work different shifts and that itself puts a strain in the relationship but you two made it work. You loved him. So you would really sacrifice anything for him, he had have a rough childhood, he was bullied cause he looked different, acted different, but he wasn’t like that for you, he never was, even though he had a wicked sense for things which really surprised you, you can’t even hide a gift from him cause he knew what you’d get him or more likely sense what you’ll give him.

You don’t tell him that you swapped shifts with someone so you technically have a day off so you decided to drop by the pâtisserie where Tendou worked with some home made Pan Bagnat since it was nearing lunch, as you were close to the shop you saw his figure near the window placing new confections on display, but something made you stop, another person, a female chocolatier, was hugging him from behind and not in a friendly way, there was familiarity to it, it looked as if she’s been hugging him for so long, like she’s always hugged him, you didn’t notice that you’ve dropped the basket you were holding on the sidewalk, the glass bottle shattering on impact, the sangria spilling on the pavement, the sandwich you made, making a mess, the fruits you packed rolling in every direction. People around gasped at the scene, some tried to help in picking up the fruits that escaped, your mind in thought again, maybe you just interpreted it wrongly they’re just so so close, like a brother and sister kinda way, since they both work in the shop, you simply jumped to conclusions too fast, those thought completely vanished as the next sight you saw.

She kissed him. SHE KISSED HIM!! Your mind played that in your head like it was a song played on a loop. That was what made your heart break, that was the tipping point, he didn’t push her away, it was the opposite, he pulled her closer, the way he held her mirrored how he would hold you when he came home from work, people around you were asking you things trying to snap you out of your trance but you paid no mind to them, your legs moving on their own.

It was as if you were on autopilot, you got home, your mind racing with so many thoughts, how long had that been going on? Is she why he’d come home later than usual, is she the reason he had woken up earlier to get to work everyday? Did he spend his days off with her when you suddenly get shifts? Walking into your apartment, you didn’t know what to think, how to feel, how to make sense of things more questions come into your mind. Does he bring her here? Did they do anything sexual in the place you called home? What places were safe? Did she please him better than I did? You walked into your bedroom where the memory box laid in the middle of bed. It was your first wedding anniversary, did he really forget? Your anniversary was engraved on your wedding rings with your initials on it.

A scream of agony escaped your lips as everywhere you looked at it was all you and him the very place you thought was the safest of all was not. It's tainted with infidelity, your heart broke even more as you took the box from the bed with shaking hands contemplating on whether to open the box or not, he loved you with every part of him didn’t he? You were enough weren’t you? You made sure he was satisfied right? You gave him all the love you could and even more right? Didn’t he promise you that he’d protect your heart? You're still his paradise right? He loves you right?

Maybe opening the box, and finding something that you both placed in there would make him rethink his choices right? With broken sobs and uneven breathing, your fingers shaking as you pulled the pretty red ribbon that held the lid shut, looking at all the things that you both collected that reminded you both that you loved each other you broke even more. Every one of them held the promise of love, of fidelity, of trust. But now, a part of you is doubting every word that passed his lips, every kiss that landed on your skin made you feel dirty, every I love you's he uttered seems like a lie. You didn’t want to feel that way, you love him with every part of your being, you’re THE Mrs. Satori Tendou, no one else but you had that title, just you, it was only you right? You were his paradise for eternity right? Right?

★──────────★───────────────★─────────★

I hope you guys liked this, I actually really liked working on this one(played my brokenhearts plays it nonstop for it) , but I do have another one coming so...yeah!

Song inspiration :Anong Nangyari Sa Ating Dalawa by Aiza Seguerra

Song used in the proposal I Choose by Alessia Cara

[1waizumihajime]

kazunari, the mankai company's resident social media specialist ("kazunari that's not your title, we're not paying you for this" "...anyways"), in an attempt to boost the company's social media presence, has mandated that all members must maintain their own instablam page! here is autumn troupe's attempt.

taichi: he already had an account so he's a bit bitter that he has less followers than some of the new accounts. his aesthetic is much like his personality- attempts to be cool that are a little reminiscent of 2013 tumblr mixed with bits of his actual likable personality! and dogs. lots of dogs. shut up yuki.

omi: a wholesome cutie! he originally created his account as a photography portfolio but now it functions as a mix of stuff he likes! it's mostly food, sports photography, ft. his life as a college student. this would all be fine if he didn't repost pinterest images of his dream kitchen and tag sakyo in every single one. ("it's not in the budget!" "if i don't get double wall ovens installed in the next two weeks i'm going on strike.")

banri: already had an account, got a bunch of of followers with minimal effort (as usual), and stopped using it because it got boring. he was pretty content just posting once every two weeks or whatever to keep kazunari off his back but then he saw juza's follower count grow and surpass his own. no doubt about it, this means war. banri's weapon of choice? thirst traps. ("that punk thinks he can beat me? always starting shit, i can't believe his nerve...he's going down." "...uh, banny? you know he doesn't even...you know what? nevermind.")

juza: has no idea what's going on. kazunari had to create the account for him. tsuzuru had to change the ridiculous username kazunari set. omi took his profile photo. it takes a village. since juza is the living definition of Trying His Best™ he took kazunari's advice to heart: post what you love. juza loves sweets, but he's trying to keep that a secret (no one has the heart to tell him that hasn't been a secret for a long time). hence, the cafe aesthetic. close to dessert without exposing his sweet tooth. it's perfect. a little too perfect. without realizing it, he's become the new source of cafe aesthetic and boyfriend photos for aesthetic posts on tumblr. ahem. juza doesn't really get it but he's happy to be doing well for the sake of the company. he is a little confused about one feature though ("hey kazunari? i've been getting these notifications that banri just liked a bunch of my posts from a few weeks ago? but then when i click the post the like disappears. is it a bug or something?" "...i'll talk to him.") (subtext: banri is bad at one thing: social media stalking)

sakyo: was forced to make an account (kazunari followed him around, not leaving a foot of space in between them for two days. sakyo's thinking of recruiting him to the yakuza as a torture device.) his aesthetic is very ~dark academia~ with a little grunge mixed in. ("where are you even getting the european gothic architecture photos? we live in japan"). the director and omi are very concerned with his more risqué photos, showing tattoos and smoking and the like. ("don't you know that kids follow us? you're supposed to be the adult here!!!") sakyo doesn't care. he's trying to get his account shut down within the month, or he'll be forced to take far more drastic measures.

azami: already had an account, but changed the username once the mankai company started opening their individual accounts. he refuses to acknowledge his inspiration. azami's account is flourishing, gaining followers by the day. while it used to just be makeup photos, he's branched into fashion and ~aesthetic~ type photos. the cigarette photo caused an ordeal in the dorms ("see sakyo!!! you're corrupting the babies!!!" "i'm not a baby!" this goes without response.) azami is the reason that all of the students have to sit through a two hour anti smoking lecture. none of them smoke.

[hazelenergy]

How I Digitally Paint like a Scenic Artist/Designer

Aka: how I did this and put my degree to good use. 

LONG POST WARNING

Step 1: Research. 

First off, get to your image search. If you are going to be using Google, you may want to type “-pinterest” in the search to eliminate the countless boards. 

I had to figure out clothing that is vaguely late 1800s. I found a multitude of reference images that were fancier clothes- but I wanted to find images of clothing for kindred across all social classes. Photographs from the era and paintings are your friend. They will more accurately showcase what was worn. 

After Fashion research comes location research. The 1890s in America is known for the rapid industrialization. Factories were getting bigger and work days were getting longer. But, I wanted the moonlight to be cascading into the place, illuminating the scene. This means I needed to find a structure that had skylights or let sunlight in. And the best images I found? Slaughterhouses. Fitting, huh?

The same rule for fashion still stands- if you can find photographs or paintings from the era- they’re better. There are tons of places still standing today from the 1800s. But today, they look WAY different. Ya know, Abandoned! So just be sure to take this into consideration if you search “abandoned slaughterhouses” or go trespassing like I did.

Lastly, pose research. Finding the poses for a fight scene can be tedious. So, I enlisted some help from a few fight choreographers and stunt men. You can record their fights and play them back at quarter or half speed. You can also get a mirror and flop on the floor a bunch. I did both. This lets you see the action/motion lines you are going to replicate in the drawing.  Heres how we initially did fina’s pose:

And sometimes you have to go back and get a clean shot. I ended up using this pose for the axe.

Step 2: Set up and Background!

When you open a new file, set it to the dimensions and resolution you want. I was working at 600. Usually, I’m working at 300-350. You can always reduce resolution. Its hard to prevent fuzzy lines if you increase it later. 

I cannot stress the following enough:

You work background to foreground. Big Shapes and areas to little shapes. Work your way forward. What this means is you need to fill in as much space as possible first. Then build your details. I prefer working as follows: Big Solid tones, Soft shadows, Dark Shadows, Highlights, then final blend. Once you finish this, put an overlay on top. This knocks everything back and helps create the illusion of depth. See this at work with the video below or here

Step 3: Figure Drawings + Composition

Utilize that research and images you collected to pose your characters. I create subfolders for each set of figures. Organization is important here. This will help keep you on the right layer and prevent the eternal digital artist struggle of “Fuck that was on the wrong layer!”

Even after you move on to lineart and shading, Keep the sketch layer as a reference. You may need to see what youre original notes/ figures looked like as you do the lineart and shade. Don’t be afraid to move them around and alter the composition rn. You want to be able to make changes. Make notes! Detail light sources! 

I’m about to through out some art jargon:

You want to think about asymmetric balance. The easiest way to achieve this in an eye-pleasing manner is to use the Fibonacci spiral. Yeah. This boi:

Place your figures and actions in a similar sequence to the spiral and the viewer’s eye tends to naturally follow it. This is sometimes called the Golden Ratio in the art world. 

Doesn’t need to be perfectly on the spiral. You can break it- but its an excellent tool to plan how things move in the piece. 

Step 4: Lineart

Once you got things sketched- its time to do the lineart. I’m using clip studio paint’s standard brushes. Nothing fancy. I often switch between the G-pen and the For Effect Liner. Mapping and Turnip are for thicker lines. 

Usually I set these pens to a specific thickness depending on where I’m drawing.

My background figures are lined at 0.05 thickness, the midground is .1 to .2, Fina is .3 and the foreground is .4. I set my stabilization high to help keep my lines smooth. Stabilization 100 means there’s a significant delay between where the pen is and the cursor. I like the stabilization to be at 20 for freehanding and at 50 ish for outlining. Dont become completely reliant on the stabilization though. Good and smooth lineart is drawn from the arm not the wrist. Your range of motion is severely limited if you only move your wrist. Practice moving from your elbow and you’ll be surprised how much smoother your lines get. 

Once I finish lining the figures, I usually go around it with an outline. This does three things: 

1. Solidifies the figure and cleans lineart for paint bucket tool. More on that in the next step.

2. Its a stylistic choice. Helps give it that comic book feel with a heavy outline. 

3. Pushes figures forward or back in the composition. Thicker outline helps denote that a figure is farther forward than another. My background figures have no outline to push them away 

Step 5: Digitally coloring

For each figure you are going to select outside the lineart. 

Create a new layer under the lineart

Invert the selection. Paint bucket. You should now have a solid shape of the figure under the lineart. Do not deselect.

Create a new layer above the one color. Title it solid colors. Paint in thick, solid tones. I like to use the mapping pen and turnip pen to color in my solid tones: skin, clothing, hair, etc.  

After that, deselect. Create a multiply layer if you can. If your program does not have a multiplier function, Pick a tone you want to use for shadows and lower the opacity (usually 30-40% I like to use lavenders or blue tones). It will not be as vibrant, but you can edit it in post. Select off of the solid colors layer. I like to start with skin tones. Use the airbrush tool to create soft shadows. You don’t want to create harsh lines on this layer.

Then repeat this process with harsh lines.  

Then knock it all back with an overlay. If you dont have the ability to create an overlay, you can again drop a solid color and lower the opacity, but you’ll have to mess with the color balance/ brightness/contrast to let all the hard work come through. 

You’re going to repeat this for every single figure. Here’s a few color theory tips though.

Your overlay colors should be darker (not more vibrant) in the foreground and lighter (avoid using pure white) in the background. This helps with the depth of the piece. Things closer tend to be darker (not always true, depends on lighting)

You can choose to use color theory to aid your shadows. Instead of choosing black or grey for shadows, choose a complimentary color. I used a lot of green for this piece, I used red for really dark shadows. Its not that black drains color- its just loses some depth if not used carefully. 

Keep your colors consistent. Helps unify the piece. You can strategically break the consistency to draw focus. For example, Fina is the only figure with a true blue overlay. This helps her stand out from the other figures who have reds and greens. 

Step 6: Touch Ups and Final Renderings

Now comes the most tedious part. If you’re like me, your computer fans have been whirring for the last few hours trying to render this monster of a file. If you havent already,  SAVE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD

These are the last four layers I have for the entire piece. Here, I am trying to create effective and believable lighting. This kind of work I have only been able to achieve in clip studio or photoshop. You can do it with normal layers, but choose your colors CAREFULLY. Stay away from pure white. Carefully utilize your knowledge of light and shadow to create soft highlights. Harsh lines tend to be a stylistic choice for me. The final layer, subtract, dulls out harsh red tones. I used this as a final overlay to help put everyone and everything in the scene. Without it, things are a little too green and skin tones are a little too blushed for vampires.

The challenge here is I want to tone down the red, but not lose the vibrancy of the blood. So, shift it to a blue. This also helped reinforce the “nighttime” effect. Its only a slight change.

Final thoughts:

Whenever you finish something, its important to reflect.

1. I am so FUCKING PROUD OF MYSELF. This is easily one of the most complicated pieces I’ve done in a while- and I’ve made 16′ tall faux stained glass. Brag. Let yourself feel awesome cuz you just made something awesome. 

2. I timed myself on the piece. I could have easily spent another 7 hours on it. But its important to know when to stop messing with it. Partially for budget reasons but also when you get down to the details you can make yourself go insane. Theres also a ton of detail work I lost cuz of overlays or its just too small to notice. Fina’s face? hard to see cuz its not close enough. 

3. I needed to take frequent breaks for this piece. That was good. Resting and stretching was very important. That is one of the reasons why I was able to work so fast. 

4. I started doing more digital art in April 2020. I have to say, practice makes perfect. I practice drawing and digital painting for at least 3 hours a day. 

That discipline has allowed me to improve so rapidly. So- I don’t wanna hear shit about I can’t possibly get this good! Or I couldn’t even draw a stick figure! BULLSHIT. You can. Get yourself some free software like Krita or Autodesk sketchbook and start playing! 

And thats what I got! Thanks for coming with me on this long post! 

[soulbutterlanguages]

My Language Routine for Quarantine

Vocabulary

first I make a short list of words that I want to work on. I recommend finding a list of 1000 most common words of your target language and taking from there, or maybe a book or television show. One problem I have with school and themed lists are that many of the words don’t actually come up in casual conversation all that often. It’s great to know “knee” but how often do you actually talk about knees? Therefore take your list from high volume utterances. 

Taking from television is also a great way to accumulate slang into your vocabulary. 

Once you have your list, find translations. I like to color code it like this;

(sorry for the quality) I have my two target languages, and my mother tongue in a ridiculous color that I don’t really want to look at. (it’s easier to read on my card than in this picture.) But if I forget, I could still figure it out easily enough. 

If you have the means to draw out the vocabulary word, this is proven to be more effective than to simply associate it with words of your native language.

All in all, do not make your native language as easy to access as your target language (see image).

Also, it doesn’t help to learn by the phrase. Believe it or not, Pinterest is a great source for already made lists of phrases in most major languages.

Grammar

This is one of the more difficult things to practice without a native speaker present. Dedicate a page of a journal, or word doc to write down the rules of the grammar rule you want to learn. 

Other things you could include on this page

-why it confuses you / what other rule you get it confused with

     ~find the answer and explain it to yourself

-find examples and make up your own

-comparative diagrams of rules if applicable

Application / Writing

The only way to learn is through application!!! Try to krank out a short story or rant that strings your vocab words together and utilizes or target grammar rules.

If you can, have someone check it for you. There are plenty of free apps that connect you to native speakers over chat, (of course be careful,) like HelloTalk.

Reading

This is the easiest to work on by yourself!! There are so many resources online!! Articles/songs/poems/short stories are all at your finger tips.  Try not to start with something too long, so as not to wear yourself out.

My recommendation would be when you find a word or phrase you don’t know, write it down and use context clues to guess what it means. (Write that down too for future vocab list.) Under your guess in a different color, (or just differentiate the two somehow,) write the actual translation. Using pons.eu is my favorite because it gives you every different meaning and explains examples.

After you finish reading, put that paper away with all of the previously unknown  words, and reread the text. See how much you remember of the words you didn’t know and mark the ones you miss again, so that you can work on those more. 

Side note; Songs are great to analyze!!! Especially if they’re songs you listen to often. It introduces you to a more poetic form of literature that is crucial to any language!! Plus you can now sing along and actually know what they’re saying. 

Learning lyrics in other languages has actually helped me when taking tests. When learning conjugations, genders of nouns, or even grammatical cases, this can be super helpful, easy to remember, and fun !!!!

Here are a few news sources that offer many languages

euronews   dw.com   uk.reuters

Keep track of your learning!!

Keep a journal or ongoing word document. 

Things you might include in an entry;

-date

-time spent

-activities finished/attempted

-how satisfactory the time spent was / how much you feel as though you progressed

-(goal for next time)

You don’t have to work on writing/reading/grammar every single day. Just make sure if you teach yourself something, that you put it to use. In addition, if you scoured over a vocab list two weeks ago and have since forgotten some of the words, keep applying them until you feel natural using the word or grammar point.

Hope this helps someone !