#the new tablet feels?? soft?? when drawing on it??

[ezlo-x]

I saved up money to buy myself a huion kamvas!! Its very nice :] still trying to get the hang of it

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the roof

lilac, chapter four

a/n: we're getting somewhere, we're not there yet, stay in your seats, but we're making progress... planting seeds and all of that....

summary: “are you scared of heights?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, renovating an inn, nightmares, crying, rupaul's drag race references, repairing a leaky roof, acrophobia (fear of heights)

word count: 1528

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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As your frantic breaths began to slow down, you gingerly lowered your shielding palms from your face, letting them drift down atop the duvet that draped over your curled-up knees. 

“I am awake, it was just a dream,” you softly repeated the mantra you had echoed since the moment your eyes snapped open, “he’s nowhere even remotely close to here,” the nightmare you’d roused from stayed too sharp in your mind to simply shake off, every little detail stood out and singed into your flesh as if it had really happened, “he can’t–… I’m safe, nothing is gonna happen, everything is okay…” from the snapping tone of his voice to the dark ink that slithered across his skin in the shape of an unsettling snake, wrapping all the way from his shoulder to the back of his dominant hand, “I did it, it’s over, he’s not here right now and he never will be again…”

It took another minute or two before you managed to get your legs to cooperate and swing over the edge of the mattress, gently lifting yourself up to a stance. You hadn’t even been awake for that long and you already had a stomach ache.

Prickly feet carrying you to the window, you cracked it open and breathed the fresh air in deeply, morrow birds chirping as they landed on a gnarly branch on the shrub closest to the house. 

Leaning against the windowsill for a moment, your neck then twisted and caught sight of your reflection in the mirror that hung on the far side wall. A complicated feeling began to brew within your belly as you saw the new uniformity of your complexion, all of the lavender bruises and all the angry marks haven finally healed completely. 

The overwhelming liberation, that you now didn’t bear reminders on your skin anymore, mixed with the sour tinge that you even had to endure it to begin with, all added up to tears beginning to well up in your eyes. 

The wounds were gonna take a lot longer to heal than just when you couldn’t see them on your body anymore…

Sucking in a deep and grounding breath, you swiftly wiped your eyes and walked over to your dresser. After you’d compiled a little clump of clothing in your arm and you tugged open the drawer that homed your tops, your fingers instinctually went to the short pile of long-sleeved shirts before they froze, remembering that you now didn’t have only that option to choose from. There were no more mortifying clues that could poke out if a hem rode up too much, you could wear whatever you damn pleased.

With a soft t-shirt stretched over your skin, you leisurely made your way down the stairs, an eager voice drawing your attention to the sitting room that stood at the bottom to the right. 

“Oh my god,” a smile couldn’t help but bloom on your weary features as you watched the small town’s sheriff clasp his palm over his mouth as he stared intently at the tablet propped up on the small table he sat at. 

“Good morning Otto,” you poked your head in, prompting the wrinkly features of the uniformed man to momentarily face you. 

“Ah, morning,” he rumbled, removing one of his earbuds as his eyes still flickering to the screen every few seconds. 

“You know I could just help you get some better wifi at your own house so that you don’t have to lean on ours to watch episodes of Drag Race.”

“What,” he gasped, clutching his chest as if his badge was instead the prettiest brooch made out of silver and pearls, “are you trying to get rid of me?”

A genuine smile blossoming upon your lips, you scoffed, “never.”

“Well, then pull out a chair,” he offered, beginning to turn the screen for you to catch a glimpse, “watch the rest with me before my shift starts.”

“No,” you quickly redirected your vision to the corner of the ceiling, “because I know that you’re further along in the season than I am, and I don’t want any spoilers.”

“But–”

“No!” you light-heartedly stuck your fingers into your ears as you scurried out of the room, “la, la, la! I don’t wanna know who gets sent home!” 

You were supposed to be looking at your laptop. You were supposed to be making the inn a proper website and contacting various travel agents. That’s what you were supposed to do, yet here you were, staring out the window, completely entranced as you watched Pete take care of the task that he’d so generously offered to fix for you. 

On the bed in an unoccupied room, there you sat, computer in your lap but your eyes firmly out the open window. He was almost like a cat the way he just casually perched out there on the roof as if it wasn’t a big deal.

With an angular crowbar in his gloved hands, you watched as he carefully jimmied off the broken roof tiles, messily stacking them beside where he’d securely piled up his other supplies. 

Your bottom lip found its way in between your teeth as you watched the muscles on his forearms flex under the efforts that the task took, the sleeves of his shirt haven been pushed up all the way to his elbows just before he’d crawled out there. 

“Hey,” not lifting his eyes from the work before him, his gruff voice seeped in through the window like the mild breeze, “could you hand me the trowel?”

Not truly comprehending what he’d just asked, you hummed distantly, “huh?”

“The spatula-looking thing you use for cement,” he craned his neck to finally catch your hypnotised gaze, “I forgot to bring it out here.”

With a light shake of your head, you forced yourself out of your daze and spotted the tool among the small pile of potentially useful items for the task all clustered on the floor, “uh, yeah, sure, of course,” hastily ridding yourself of the computer in your lap to get up and grab it.

Poking your head out of the open window, it dawned on you how you couldn’t just extend your arm to give it to him. It might have been the haze still lingering, but before you even had a chance to ponder the consciences, you found yourself crawling out onto the rooftop, feet becoming wobbly on the wavy tile as soon as you glanced down at the distant grass. 

“Wow,” Pete’s sharp reflexes steadied you at once, rushing to your side to steady your balance. With one palm firm on your waist, the other locked around your arm, the fuzzy sensation persuading your vision to find his chocolaty gaze instead of the terrifying plunge, “I’ve got you.”

“You’ve got–, uhm…” you muttered hazily, “uh…” your breathing growing ragged before you snapped out of it with a clear, “here!” and pressed the requested tool against his broad chest. 

Cocking a brow in subtle amusement, he grasped it, “thank you,” though the other hand still stayed fast around your arm. Tilting his head in an attempt to catch the gaze you’d hastily averted, he then asked you, “are you scared of heights?”

Scoffing sharply, you narrowed your eyes back at him, “no, I’m not scared of heights, what are you talking about?” though when his dark eyebrows raised in disbelief at your unconvincing tone, your eyes then rolled in your skull, “alright, fine, maybe a little… but that’s a perfectly natural and rational fear for a person to have!” you bellowed defensively, slowly lowering your centre of gravity and tensely sitting down the mossy surface, “it’s not like I’m scared of, I don’t know, tomatoes or something…”

He eventually let go of you when he’d grown confident in your position, his then brisk movement across the roof, back to his task prompted you to continue babbling nervously, “how are you just walking around out here like it's just a sidewalk or something? You could slip and fall to your death at any moment!”

“I would have to get very unlucky to die from up here,” he casually informed, keeping track of you out of the corner of his eye as he worked the premixed bucket of cement open, “it would just be a lot of serious injuries, but most likely not immediate death.” 

Hoping that he could physically feel the glare you shot in his direction, you grumbled, “you do know that doesn’t make me feel better, right?”

Catching your eye, he exhaled slowly before offering, “you want me to help you back inside? 

“Uhm,” your vision flickered back down to the grass below, the green blades minuscule from up here, “y-yeah, that’s properly a smart idea…” adding awkwardly as he hoisted you back up to your feet, “I really don’t wanna fall down and go splat.”

Chuckling gently, “I won’t let that happen,” he supported you back to the window and helped you inside. 

You weren’t sure what had made you feel more dizzy, the petrifying altitude, or the way his secure touch felt like it nearly burned through your layers of clothes… 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[egophiliac]

Hello! Sorry to bother but do you have any digital art tips? I’m quite new to it and any tips, tricks or advice would be helpful! Your coloring style is very beautiful and I love it a lot!

thank you! 💚💚💚 sorry this is a bit late, hopefully there's still something helpful in it!

(also, it got pretty long, sorry!)

I think the biggest thing is to just take things slow -- digital art feels different than drawing traditionally, and it's SUPER easy to get overwhelmed by the billions of cool features that the digital world offers. (I say, as someone who spends a lot of time downloading cool brushes and textures...and then never using them ever.) there is a ton of really cool stuff you can do digitally, but because there's so much, I think it's really important to take time to figure out what is and isn't working for you. spend some time doodling without any intent to do a finished piece, figure out how you like to hold (or not hold) your tablet, what keyboard shortcuts you end up using a lot (and therefore might want to map to your pen/tablet buttons for quicker use)...that kind of thing!

everyone's workflow and preferred program and style are different, so it's hard to give hard-and-fast general advice. but the things that I think of as the essentials for learning digital art programs, and what I think of as a good order to focus on learning them in (although YMMV, especially depending on what kind of art you're doing):

brush customization (e.g. flow, opacity, softness)

layers and layer masks

selections and transformations (e.g. scale, rotate, flip horizontal/vertical, skew) (skew is underrated and I will die on that hill)

blending modes (e.g. multiply, screen)

adjustments/adjustment layers (e.g. hue/saturation, curves)

and I think most stuff after that is gravy! often very good gravy though! but yeah, as overall advice I recommend just taking things one little bit at a time, spending some time just drawing and messing around with each feature and what you can do with it. whether or not you end up incorporating any of it into your workflow, it's always good to try things out and just see how they feel! :D

and just so there is at least a little more concrete helpfulness in here, here's a few more specific things that I think are super important to keep in mind!

use! your! tablet/pen buttons! I mentioned this earlier, but they are extremely useful for keyboard shortcuts that you use often! most programs will also let you create new shortcuts for other things -- personally, I use the magic wand tool to fill in big color blocks a lot, so I made shortcuts for 'expand selection' and 'fill' and then mapped them to my tablet buttons.

flop your work horizontally often! when you're working on something, you get used to the way it looks, so seeing it mirrored is a quick way to see it with fresh eyes! in my experience, it often feels like this:

(a common thing is to find that everything is sort of 'leaning' too much one way, which is where skew really comes in handy!) (seriously, I love skew, it is my savior)

if you're working with color, keep a hue/saturation adjustment layer (or a layer filled with black or white and set to Color) on top and toggle it on occasionally to check your values! a lot of people who know a lot more about color than me (and are better at putting it into words) have written about why values are so important, so all I'll say is that the rule of thumb is that your image should still be readable in greyscale:

there are some exceptions and grey areas (do ho ho), but it's a good general rule to keep in mind! (some programs also have a colorblind mode, so you can check to see how your work will look to someone with colorblindness!)

and finally, here's some digital art programs I recommend, if you're still looking for a good one!

free: krita, FireAlpaca

paid: ClipStudio, Procreate (iOS/iPad only)

[shegatsby]

I'm sorry but I have another idea for a story😅 please take your time to write it again and if you do it can I maybe be "♡🌸"-anon? I hope you had a really good time the last few days and weeks and that you're healthy! Same for anyone else reading this! Now onto the idea..

Hannibal and reader are already married and reader is a tattoo artist, one day when Hannibal comes home from work he sees reader sitting on the couch and sketching a tattoo, the tattoo is deer antlers(wink wink lol-) with vines around them, when he asks who the tattoo is for reader says that its for him and then they go on and on about why its fitting for Hannibal and he's just listening to her rambling before he stops them and asks if they could do a heart tattoo with the words Mischa, Readers name and the name of their child. (I know Mischa is from Hannibal Rising but I like to think that the movies are all connected to the show so.. yeah that would be amazing <3) Reader would say that they already thought of doing a design like that and they accidently slide the wrong way on the iPad and Hannibal sees a picture that says "Congratulions for a second child!" and idk, the rest is up to you!^^

Sorry that its so long again but its just super cite and yeah.. anyway, a good rest of the day to all of you! I hope all of you are healthy and stay/are safe! And I feel with everyone thats also a bit pissed at the situation with Tik Tok and UMG🥲

-♡🌸

A/N; Girll I haven't been writing Hannibal fics for a long time but here we go. Thank you for the request. xxx

You were preoccupied and didn't even heard the door. Soft yet determined steps approached you from the back and strong arms wrapped around you, you looked up to meet your husband's welcoming gaze, he he seemed tired because his work was consuming his hours more than usual. His hands were cold due to the fact that it was a harsh winter day in Baltimore, ''Hey.'' you said smiling, ''Hello dear.'' his voice softened. ''How long have you been sitting here and designing new drawings my love?''

You were self conscious about your designs before you could respond he added, ''Who is this for?''

His interest was piqued ''Do you like it?'' you asked testing the waters. Hannibal observed the design on the tablet, it was deer antlers with veins around them, ''Yes, I actually like it but you didn't answer my question dear.'' he replied with a questioning look in his maroon eyes, ''Its for you and I'm glad you liked it.''

He seemed confused, ''For me? Why do you think this dsign is suitable for me?'' he genuinely asked. You cleared your throat before speaking, ''In many cultures, the deer is a symbol of spiritual authority. During a deer's life the antlers fall off and grow again and the aniaml is also a symbol of regretion. In Christian imagination, the deer is a symbol of piety, devotion and of God taking care of his children: men.'' you explained, emphasising on the word ''children'' your eyes glowing with passion.

''And you my love,'' you held his hand, ''you are everything and more to us.'' you meant yourself and your daughter Mischa. As if the toddler had sensed that you were talking about her she started crying from her room. ''I'll get her.'' Hannibal said and kissed your temple gently. In moments he came back with Mischa in his arms, he was swaying her gently, ''Cna you also make something,'' he began and caught your attention, you admired the love he held in his eyes for you and your daughter and your hand went to your stomach without realizing, ''Mischa's name in a heart, maybe?'' he suggested, ''I already have.'' he was surprised that you already had thought about it, ''Can I see?''

You showed him the design you had made few weeks ago, ''And I also have other designs maybe you'll like them more.'' you said and moved to the gallery to show more and he made you pause, he held your hand, ''What is it?''

You got a picture of pregnancy test on your latest photos, 'you looked up to meet his gaze, hi clicked on the picture and saw that it was positive, ''Honey are you-'' he began but couldn't finish, ''Yes, yes I'm pregnant!'' you bolted to your feet and hugged your husband and daughter, Hannibal was holding Mischa with one hand and the other hand moved to your neck and kissed you passionately, you let him dominate the kiss. When you parted you were out of breath, ''I'm going to be a father.. again.'' his maroon eyes were glowing with love and warmth for you, Mischa and the new member of the Lecter family.

[queerespresso]

💭 Ep. 2 | Bison

Mostly thoughts on his perspective of the relationship + some new thoughts on him.

He’s definitely an artist or has an artistic soul. Who has a sketch book of their brothers daily life in that level of detail? The digital design tool downloaded on his tablet + the style of drawing he did for the tattoo + the gorgeous end result of the tattoo he drew screams artists or desire to be an artists in some way. This could be partly what attracts him to Kant.

In my perspective, he does have romantic feelings for Kant but they’re more similar to a crush and the beginning. I wouldn’t say it’s purely for attention. He did seem genuinely concerned about Kant’s fear of the sea last episode and is worried about Kant’s safety when it’s concerning his brother. Now the amount of feelings he has doesn’t match his words though.

When he says to Fadel “Kant wants me for my body and my heart.” I think he’s being dramatic there. But he means it when he says “we’re taking it slow” and later lays on the couch with a soft smile. While he questions Kant’s feelings multiple times throughout the episode but was defending him to Fadel so he could continue to see where his and Kant’s relationship leads.

Regarding his perspective on the legitimacy of Kant’s feelings. Every time Kant uses a pickup line, asks for s*x or a relationship, it seems like Bison cringes a bit and pulls away. Whenever Kant does something vulnerable like reveal something about himself, visiting him in disguise, dancing with him despite being shy to dance, he starts to *feel* for him. I mean this is usual, people who are vulnerable with you make you feel comfortable bringing out your own vulnerabilities thus increases intimacy. Bison is a bit of a romantic and is into this potentially working out. He offers a casual relationship to Kant but seems happy when Kant pushes for a more solid relationship and cheekily says “you have a lot to prove”. He wants Kant to prove it.

On Bison with Fadel, he has expressed multiple times he wants his brother to enjoy life more. While he does have some desire to be free, largely I think his desire to set up Fadel and Style is so Fadel can experience love. He seemed really affected by Kant’s assurance of “You did this because you’re worried about him. You just want him to enjoy life, don’t you?”

When Fadel laughed and said “you call your mom mother? What are you, young master?” Bison seemed hurt or confused(?). His mother or family dynamic is a sore point in my opinion (c’mon man..what’s with Khaotung and parent trauma 🥲).

♨️💭 In my head, he’s a full brat and maybe switch. He loves the tease of it all. Like that cat grin he has and genuine enjoyment after leaving Kant with the ending of his tease (a vibe 🙂‍↕️). But him expressing he also likes pain and “I like cats because they’re unpredictable. Sometimes they act like they love you and want you, and then ago ahead and ignore you. Treat you like a total stranger. It’s challenging.” Then Kant says: “so you love a challenge .” Not sure if Kant is fully accurate there. I think Bison likes *being* a challenge…or maybe he likes both. We’ll see.

* My perspective is true for me at this moment and may evolve. I respect that it’s not true for everyone else.

[lraerosesims]

How I draw: Silver Metallic Buttons for Sims 2 Textures

As we all know, Sims 2 doesn't really appreciate large file sizes/dimensions for it's textures, so sometimes you have work very closely with the individual pixels. Here is how I draw buttons. Video is sped up so don't feel like you need to draw as fast as me!

Side note: this tutorial is created on the basis that you already know how to use the basic functions of Sims BodyShop to extract the texture file. There's plenty of tutorials out there explaining that so please don't ask me to clarify on that part. Anyway, on to the buttons...↓↓↓

What you need:

A PC

Digital Drawing app (like Photoshop, Krita etc)

A Graphics Tablet with pen - you could try this with a mouse but I wouldn't recommend!

And obviously Sims 2/Sims 2 BodyShop

First off, create a new layer - we don't want this button permanently stuck to our base texture. Then I get a standard hard edge brush (I use Krita as my drawing software, so just use whatever hard brush is available in your preferred software/app). Because I'm making relatively small buttons, I make my brush 7.09px in size. Select a mid to light grey colour as the base. Make a single circle.

Then decrease the brush size to be nice and small. As a comparison to my 7.09px circle, I decrease to 0.01px for this next step. Choose a slightly darker grey colour and lightly sketch in a 'semi-circular line' about 3/4 of the way around just in from the edge of the circle. By lightly sketching - and not pressing down hard, you'll get varying tones on each pixel to represent different reflections on the 'metal'.

Next choose a darker grey again, and lightly sketch around the similar area as the last colour, but don't be too fussy on hitting the same pixels - we want varying tonal values for our shadows.

Then choose white and lightly sketch the 'catch light' part of the button. This doesn't need to be right in the centre, in fact it's better if it's off to the side, or towards the top more. We're not always facing directly towards a light source so this creates a more realistic lighting effect. You'll see me select the same mid to light base grey I used just to lightly dust over the edges of the white area to soften it a tiny bit (only do this if your white edge is a little to crisp).

After that I go back and forth between a few different tones of grey to lightly sketch over the parts we haven't really drawn on yet. This just helps create some gradual shading that enhances the 'roundness' of our very flat, very 2D button texture.

Once you're happy with the shadowing (remember it looks somewhat janky this close up, but you can always zoom out to see if the button looks more smooth when further away), you can then make another layer, and drag it below your newly made button layer in the layer menu. Select a soft edge brush and increase the size to slightly wider than your buttons overall size (I chose 9.14px compared to my 7.09px button)

Choose black from the colour wheel/palette and lightly build up the shadow underneath the button, gradually increasing size and opacity until desired tone. If the colour of the 'garment' in this texture is light then keep the shadow to a minimum, if it's dark then the shadow needs to be deep enough to show up.

Zoom out and inspect how this button looks further out. If you're satisfied, then merge the button and shadow layers together, copy/paste it as many times as needed for the garment you're texturing and Voila! You made buttons for a Sims 2 Texture!!

Feel free to ask any questions below - I'm definitely no professional, especially in creating tutorials so I'm more than happy to clarify if something didn't make sense.

[quietlyimplode]

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 24 - I never knew daylight could be so violent. (No light, no light)

Warnings: whump/angst/therapy

Word Count: 2k (gif not mine)

Summary: Olivia needs help; but then again so does Natasha.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist.

.

Pain shoots through her abdomen and and she bows to it.

She doesn’t allow herself a cry of pain, only a huff of a breath and closes her eyes.

Her hand shakes as she empties the last of the tryptophan her heart sinking as she feels nauseousness rise and tremors shudder through her.

“Fuck,” she swears.

The night is going to be long.

She takes one of the last two tablets anyway knowing it’s only delaying the inevitable.

She sighs, laying down and trying to breathe through the pain.

Shield had the medications that she needed, but she didn’t quiet trust them.

Pain thrusts its way through her, making her clench her fists and forcing breath in and out consciously.

She decides in the moment to find Coulson or Fury. Shield is not safe but the two men would perhaps help.

She owed them, they owed her, and she’s sure she could call in a favour.

.

The seizure leaves her on the floor, her head pounding as she feels her consciousness return to her.

Wiping her mouth, she pushes herself up.

Hands still shaking, Olivia takes the last pill, hoping it makes her functional.

She knows she’s running out of time. She didn’t realise how close she was running out when she left.

Stupid, she berates herself.

Living in America had made her soft, dependant… Compliant.

If she was on her own, she’d have stocks, but instead, she’d just worked through the emergency medication knowing she’d have access to more.

Allowing herself a moment of self pity, she wonders just how to find the others, and slowly dresses herself.

The number she’d memorised for Fury may still work, and she contemplates if she’s able to make it to the closest pay phone.

The small apartment’s furniture helps her to move on shaking legs, and the walking stick she keeps in the closet feels like a good option.

Armed with a knife and sunglasses, she makes her way out to the harsh light of day.

Nauseous, she descends the stairs, tremors still wracking her body.

She can do this, she’s done much harder things.

One hundred steps, she tells herself.

When she reaches that, she counts 100 more.

At 345 she stops, breathing labored at the public pay phone.

“This better fucking work,” she mutters to herself, dialing the number.

Four rings in and she feels bile rise in her throat.

On the fifth, the phone picks up and she closes her eyes in relief.

“It’s bad,” she opens, “I need… what you owe me.”

Fury seems to understand.

“Safehouse six. I’ll organise for it to be sent there.”

He pauses.

“You owe me too. Don’t think I won’t collect.”

The phone hangs up and she groans, sinking to the floor, holding onto the walking stick and feeling another seizure coming on.

.

The knock at the door sets them all on edge.

Even though Fury calls to tell them that Olivia is coming, they all stand. Maria’s hand on her gun, Clint close to his bow and Natasha stands near the draw with the knives.

Coulson opens it, and finds Olivia standing there, just as Fury had said.

He opens the door wider, letting her in and showing the others that they have nothing to fear.

She enters, and Clint frowns.

“Are you… are you okay?”

The woman waves him off, and says something quietly to Coulson. He walks to the back room and returns alone.

“She needs some privacy and sleep,” he announces, much to all their confusion.

The shower starts running and Clint thinks of all the scenarios that could have had her looking so drawn and pale.

He turns back to the game of cards that he had been playing with Maria and swears as he loses again.

“I’m bored,” he complains.

Maria shares a look with him.

“How do we know Fury is okay?” she asks, much to Coulson’s annoyance.

“He’s okay,” he assures, “but if you want to go help, then fine, I can’t stop you.”

Maria grins at Clint.

“I’ll let you know how I go.”

“He’s gonna be angry,” Clint assumes, throwing the cards to the container.

“Nah; he’ll be appreciative. Who reads the lackies of Shield, better than me?”

Coulson sighs.

“I should go with you.”

He looks to the door that Olivia just moved through, and sits back down.

“Go. Call me in four hours and tell me what’s happening.” He looks at time.

“Four hours okay?”

Maria grabs the keys and a piece of pizza.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll call,” she smiles, pleased to have something to do.

The evening feels early, even though it’s 6pm, the sun moving to sleep. Maria reveals in the fresh air; and heads for shield.

.

Natasha lays on the couch. She’d opted to take first watch.

Olivia was still in the room, door closed having not come out since she went in.

Coulson in the other room, and Clint gently snoring on the other couch.

She doesn’t feel tired.

Probably, would be unable to sleep anyway.

If nightmares plagued her like they did in the cabin, she would have the whole house on edge.

At least the cell was soundproofed.

Here, she thinks she would wake up the whole apartment block.

Clint has eyed her when she’d offered to take first watch, and she had nodded assuringly.

Maria had called to say she was with Fury, he hadn’t sent her away much to Coulson’s surprise.

Coulson had decided he’d return in the morning, barring no incidents during the night.

Natasha was determined to just let them sleep.

She liked the darkness, and with others around, she was sure she wouldn’t be seeing anything… anyone.

Lost in her own thoughts, she catches movement on her left and stands to confront it.

“It’s me,” Olivia announces quietly.

Natasha sits up straighter.

The psychiatrist moves into the dimly lit room, and then to the kitchen finding water and taking a sip.

She downs two pills as Natasha watches on in interest.

“I’m defective,” she says, noticing Natasha watching her.

“They experimented with us, trialing… god knows what, to try and make us better soldiers. And they succeeded but at a cost.”

Olivia’s eyes rake over Natasha.

“Shield has drugs that help combat the symptoms. The Red Room would have just killed me.”

She feels scrutinized and wants to hear so much more of her experience of the Red Room.

It’s like piecing together bits of her own history, things she’s forgotten, things that have been wiped.

Part of the debrief had asked so many basic questions that she should know, but couldn’t retrieve it.

Experimented was right.

Natasha moves to seat at the bench to sit across from her.

Her face itches where the cut on her forehead is healing, and she suppresses the urge to touch it. Her whole body is itchy, uncomfortable and foreign.

Olivia looks to Clint, and deciding he’s asleep enough, starts to make coffee.

Natasha watches practices motions and refrains from talking.

She wants to ask her so much.

Waiting until Olivia sits, Natasha takes an offered coffee and they sip it together.

“Ask, if you need to,” she tells her, voice tired and resigned.

Natasha has so many, she thinks of the last couple of days. How impaired she had been to take care of herself, of Clint and how, if she was back in the red room, she would have been killed ten fold by now.

“How do you stop the nightmares? The flashbacks? How do I… I can’t sleep and then when I do… it bleeds into the day. I try.. But everything in me keeps remembering.”

Natasha holds back, the feelings and worries that have been plaguing her, she wishes she knew how to articulate them.

She feels like she’s going insane.

Wounds wide open and she can’t stop remembering.

Olivia looks at her, takes a slow sip of her drink.

“Your mind is an open wound, they’ve dug into in debrief and left it bleeding.”

Natasha nods.

It’s exactly what it is.

She feels like an exposed raw nerve.

Olivia sets down her coffee.

“We don’t have a lot of time together. Not what you need anyway.”

She sighs heavily, fatigue seeming to weigh her down, but the kindness and patience that she has always shown to Natasha remains.

“It’s not fair, that you have to deal with this. So the coping mechanisms I’m going to say to you I want you to use when and where possible. There are going to be a myriad of times, where they don’t work, but for a lot of the times it will.”

Natasha swallows, understanding what she’s saying.

“We haven’t the time so I need you to listen. To hear me. Okay?”

Olivia doesn’t even wait for her to respond.

“Being triggered, doesn’t apply to you because your nervous system is always going to be heightened, walking on eggshells, and when they crack, is likely going to be when you will feel it. With or without flashbacks, the emotions will come, and you won’t always understand it. When this happens I need you to note that it’s there, label it and stay with it, even for a moment.”

The urgency in her voice makes Natasha give undivided attention.

She doesn’t notice that Clint sits up, moves closer; but Olivia does.

“Emotions, they try and tell us something, things we aren’t subconsciously aware of, they sit in our body, in our chest, sometimes like a weight, sometimes like itch you can’t scratch. They can sit in our minds; numbing us to the world that’s happening around us. In small ways, in big ways too.”

Natasha feels her face grow hot.

Olivia’s words are true and she knows it.

“Work on finding where the emotion is in your body. Close your eyes, for a moment and extend your mind out. Learn Natasha, learn about emotions, their labels and how they feel. The Red Room didn’t care and the words you have for emotions mean nothing. You have to learn beyond happy and sad.”

Natasha swallows.

“Learn what happiness feels like, and remember it so you have something to compare it to. Learn anger, and how it’s different to hatred. Disappointment. Anxiety. Frustration. You know these in a sense, but your education on them is poor.”

Olivia stops, taking a breath and then a sip of her coffee, acknowledging Clint.

“Accept help from those that are willing but don’t trust blindly. You have your own thoughts and feelings and they matter too. Do you hear me?”

Olivia talks softer.

“They never taught you, because they never wanted you to know, how smart and powerful you are. The feelings and emotions and the rawness of it all won’t last forever. But when it comes do something with it. Do something with your hands like shooting a gun at the range, clean, shower, breathe. Anything that you can do that acknowledges the feelings but doesn’t erase them.”

She reaches across and grabs at Natasha’s hand, pulling her sleeve up to expose raw handcuffed chaffed wrists.

“Nights will be the hardest,” she acknowledges, “but they will get better.”

Natasha pulls away, embarrassed.

“Feel it,” encourages Olivia, “try not to hide from it.”

The silence in the room extends; but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

“What if I can’t?” Natasha whispers.

Olivia smiles.

“Then you can’t. And you try again next time. This is not pass or fail. This is not the stakes of the Red Room. You won’t die because you can’t do something; even though it might feel like it.”

Finishing her coffee, Olivia stands.

“I’m truly sorry, Natasha, for everything you’ve been through. I can see why you’ve made it this far. I believe our paths will cross again, but it might not be for a while.”

Natasha nods, biting down on her lip.

The one person that understood her and everything she had been through… disappointment and grief floods her.

She feels it.

Olivia touches her hand again.

“You’re not without support.”

She nods to Clint.

Coulson bustles in and looks at the two women and Clint.

Daylight streams through the windows and Natasha feels herself withdraw.

.

[dolceterzo]

il museo del sesso

Fandom: Ghost (The Band)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus III x GN!Reader

Genre: Romance - Fluff - Humour

Word Count: 1035

Summary: Reader has had a long day, and Terzo has Secondo's latest newsletter from his travels.

A/N: This is my first ever Ghost fic to see the light of day, and the first fic I've published in over a year. I'm scared, but I figured I'd unleash it into the wilderness! Some Italian terms of endearment are in the feminine, but the actual reader description is gender-neutral. Yes, bad Italian translations are featured - my ancestors are cursing me as I type. Enjoy!

----

It had been a long day. Sister Imperator had run you ragged preparing for Terzo’s next assignment, though he would no longer perform the duties bestowed upon him as the anti-pope, being retired meant having other expectations placed upon him instead. You were to accompany him as an international dignitary of sorts, meeting with other congregations within the Ministry’s broader network, building an empire required going beyond Italy, Sweden or Los Angeles… And, after all, Terzo was a popular Papa, no matter how the dismissal from the higher clergy may have looked. Just as Secondo was out there performing ambassadorial duties when he wasn’t in his vineyards, so too would Terzo begin a new chapter. 

But that was later. Now? Now you just needed to lie down.

-

Terzo was already on the bed when you entered your shared living quarters, and he was reading the latest instalment of Secondo’s monthly newsletter - an unusually personal and rather entertaining mailer only the Emeritus brothers were privy to.

To Terzo's great joy, it included a gossip column, specifically for his benefit he was sure, as well as an arts and culture spot. For Primo, there was a horticultural section full of plants and landscapes from wherever Secondo had been, and for Copia, there was a section on animals and literature.

The sound of your arrival has Terzo looking up with a pleased smile, his eyes are bright as he pats the space beside him, his raven hair falling loosely around his forehead. He puts Secondo’s digitally crafted newsletter down, letting the tablet rest on his thighs for a moment.

You waste no time taking him up on the offer, he looked utterly dashing in his glasses, his shirt unbuttoned enough to enjoy a peek of his chest. You loved Terzo in many ways, but seeing him relaxed and enjoying something away from clergy matters was high on your list.

Scooting next to him, you’re mindful of the device. Positioning your head on his torso, your arms locked around his midsection, the instant sensation of his warmth and the weight of his hand on your back has you exhaling with relief.

“Ciao, piccola ucella.” He greets softly, fingers grazing the back of your neck, slowly caressing as he begins to thread his fingers in your hair.

“Ciao, amore.” You hum, eyes closing for a moment, your muscles relaxing with each passing moment. 

“Busy day, hm?” He asks with a smile, knowing full well that you would have been giving Imperator a run for her money.

“Si, very busy.” You answer half-heartedly, already well on your way to dozing on him.

You feel the soft rumble of his laughter against your ear, “It seems you’ve already decided on how to remedy this exhaustion, no?” Giving you a gentle squeeze. “Oh absolutely, you’re my favourite cuscino.” You purr, grip tightening as you shiver, trying to draw extra warmth from his body.

He wordlessly puts the tablet on the bedside table and tugs at the blanket draped over the headboard, bringing it down over both of you, making sure you are suitably covered.

“You know, I find it very sweet when you use some of your Italian, tesoro.” He praises, his thumb brushing over the shell of your ear. 

His gaze never leaves you, concern and adoration blending into one, though the conversation had been playful, he could see that you were not only physically fried but mentally too.

“Sorry, honey, I’ve interrupted your Secondo monthly.” You mumble, sighing, you wanted to talk to Terzo and enjoy doing something with him, but now your work mode had been switched off everything else was catching up to you.

“Bah, if I cannot cuddle with mia amata, and make sure they are well, then what good is this love we share, hm? It is okay to not always be, switched on, alright? You tell me this quite often, do you not?”

You really cannot argue with him, especially when he speaks to you in that hushed way that few people, if any, ever get to experience.

“I do.” You concede, lifting your head to look at him, your face full of gratitude, your hand cups his cheek, fingertips tracing those lines that make him so handsome to you, watching with a sweet ache in your chest as he closes his eyes and enjoys the sensation.

When he meets your gaze again his lips upturn into a mischievous smile, “Shall I read to you this last section that mio fratello wrote?”

Your expression matches his in excitement, nodding as you immediately plant your head back on his chest, ready to listen to every word.

“Molto bene, prezioso.” He hums, keeping one arm wrapped around you, the other scooping up the tablet and flicking back to the page he had been reading. He clears his throat for dramatic effect, adjusting the glasses on his nose.

Terzo begins, “The weather in Amsterdam was a drizzle, overcast, not too terrible by any means, if a bit glum for such an intriguing visit. Naturalmente, I was invited to il museo del sesso…”

“The sex museum?” You snort, laughter shaking softly through you, positive you understood him correctly.

“Si, si…” Terzo says with a wry smile, continuing. “I was invited to il museo del sesso, and wouldn’t you know it? In the modern and contemporary gallery, they had painted the most squisito portrait of me. Specifically, my “Anno Zero” momento, quite the homage to the Emeritus physique…certainly, they picked the right brother to fully display our prowess, eh, cari fratelli? Needless to say, it was an enjoyable visit.”

Now you’re giggling uncontrollably, whether it was because there was a naked painting of Secondo in Amsterdam’s sex museum, or whether it was because Secondo seemed exceptionally pleased with this fact, you weren’t sure.

“That has to be one of the best instalments yet.” You muse, giggles still bubbling in your tummy.

Terzo relishes the laughter he pulls from you, thankful for his brother’s colourful display of vanity for helping you get rid of some of the day's tension. He laughs too, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, squeezing you gently. 

“Yes, my love, I’d say it was too.”

Fin.

-

Italian Glossary:

Ciao - Hello

Piccola Ucella - Little Bird

Amore - Love

Si - Yes

Cuscino - Cushion/Pillow

Tesoro - Treasure/Honey/Darling

Mia Amata - My Love

Mio Fratello - My Brother

Molto Bene - Very Good/Very Well

Prezioso - Precious

Naturalmente - Naturally

il museo del sesso - The Sex Museum

Squisito - Exquisite

Anno Zero - Year Zero

Momento - Moment

Cari Fratelli - Dear Brothers

[lividstar]

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎THE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Four: A Pleasant Twist

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 5k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ What started as a plan for a quiet walk in the park quickly turned eventful when you bumped into Madame Dupont, who was heading out for groceries. Choosing to assist her instead, two occurrences you didn’t see coming saw the light of the day: A. Running into Seonghwa, and B. Receiving an offer from Madame Dupont to help with your upcoming casting.

a/n: did you guys see san’s fit for the dolce & gabbana fashion show... it had me weak he straight up looked like he came from a dystopian hunger games type beat magical fantasy gods and goddesses 100k wc fic like that’s choi san from district ATE

tags: @beabatiny

The atmosphere in Hongjoong’s office was a mix of modern chic and creative chaos. The walls, adorned with framed sketches and mood boards, exuded an air of inspiration and meticulous planning. The sleek glass desk was cluttered with fabric swatches, design drafts, and a laptop perpetually open to design software. Large windows let in natural light, illuminating the room and casting a soft glow on the polished wooden floors. Shelves lined with fashion magazines featuring either his designs or Hongjoong himself, awards in varying categories, and an array of art supplies hinted at the relentless creativity that filled the space.

Hongjoong sat behind his desk, his brows furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the latest designs. Seonghwa stood across from him, tablet in hand, listing off upcoming tasks.

“We’re still months away from the fashion week, but it feels dangerously close,” Seonghwa noted, swiping through the digital calendar. “You’re still without your sketchbook, so we need backup designs just in case.”

Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’s been making use of Seonghwa’s digital tablet to work on new designs, but it just doesn’t hit the same as sketching on the rough surface of a paper. Well, Seonghwa has been trying to convince him he only feels that way because drawing digitally is an entirely foreign experience to him, but he swears it’s more than that. You wouldn’t get it, is what he’d usually say. “I know. I’m working on new designs, but it’s hard to compensate for everything I had in that sketchbook. There’s so much detail and inspiration in those lost pages.”

“Well… maybe we should schedule extra brainstorming sessions with the team. It might help to get more input," Seonghwa suggested, his tone pragmatic. There’s only so much a single personal assistant could do, especially regarding important matters they’re short of time on, after all.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against his desk thoughtfully. “Seems like a good plan. We can set up a few sessions next week. Also, I want to review the progress of our new recruits. We need fresh faces ready for the casting call.”

“Oh, speaking of recruits, have you thought about expanding our outreach programs?” Seonghwa continued, making notes on his tablet. “More workshops and seminars could attract new talent to the agency. It’s also a good way to give back to the community.”

“Yes, definitely. And I also want to collaborate with more local designers,” Hongjoong agreed, his voice gaining a note of enthusiasm. There were still a lot of things to sort out, but at least they’re no longer heading forward empty-handed, right? “It’s important to foster community connections and bring in diverse perspectives. We could host a local designer showcase leading up to the fashion week.”

Seonghwa nodded. “That sounds perfect. We should also consider revamping our social media strategy. More behind-the-scenes content, live Q&A sessions, stuff that really engages our audience. 90% of people spend more than half the average day on their phone, anyway, so it would be a good idea to improve our marketing strategies online.”

“Right,” Hongjoong replied, leaning forward and straightening his posture. “I’ve noticed our engagement has been a bit stagnant. Let’s brainstorm some fresh content ideas and maybe even a mini-documentary series about our design process.”

As they were continuing to talk endlessly about gaps they needed to fill in order to ensure the brand’s utmost and consistent success, a thought suddenly resurfaced in Seonghwa’s mind. “Oh, I forgot to tell you yesterday, but she said yes.”

Hongjoong looked puzzled, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Since when did you have a significant other?”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes dramatically, not being able to distinguish whether A. Hongjoong was just trying to push his buttons, or B. His brain development had reversed throughout the night and thus, is now being outright dumb. Knowing him, it was probably the latter. “No, you stupid goon. I’m referring to the girl from Rue de la Paix.”

“Oh, alright. Wait—she said yes?” Hongjoong's eyes widened in surprise.

At that exact moment, Wooyoung entered the room with a dramatic flair. “Whoa, who said yes? Didn’t know you had it in you, Seonghwa,” Wooyoung teased. Just then, an empty folder came flying his way, nearly hitting him right at his face if it weren’t for his reflexes. “Hey, what was that for?”

“That’s for accomplishing the mission of being even more stupid than Hongjoong,” Seonghwa deadpanned, shrugging. “What are you doing here anyway, Wooyoung? I thought you had no activities scheduled for today.”

Wooyoung grinned and flopped onto the couch, stretching out comfortably. “Yeah, but Hongjoong’s office couch is comfortable and I’m experiencing back pain. Needed a place to relax.”

“And who told you you could just do that?”

“...My free will?”

Seonghwa glanced at Hongjoong, who didn’t even need to hear the words come out of his mouth. “No surprises at all. He does this all the time.”

Suddenly, Hongjoong always putting in his best efforts when it comes to avoiding Wooyoung during his work hours was now starting to make sense to Seonghwa. “No wonder you’re so sick of him,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“I can hear both of you very well, you know?” Wooyoung quipped, scrolling through his phone without looking up. “Actually, nevermind. Knowing you two, you’re probably doing that on purpose.”

“Nice theory. Whatever,” Seonghwa dismissed, turning back to Hongjoong. “Anyway, what I meant by her saying yes is that she agreed to attend the casting. She didn’t say it directly, but she called me in the middle of the night to ask for further details. Plus, she replied to my message about wishing her luck and hoping she wouldn’t back out. So, I think it’s safe to assume she’s going to attend.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened with a mix of relief and curiosity. “That’s great news. I’m really curious to see what she brings to the table.”

“Who’ll bring what to the table?” Wooyoung interjected, finally looking up from his phone with genuine interest. “You both seem pretty invested in this person.”

Seonghwa leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “A girl from Rue de la Paix that I scouted pretty recently. I believe she has great potential.”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. If you’re both that excited, she must be something special,” he mused to himself before looking back down on his phone screen.

Hongjoong hummed in agreement before turning his attention back to the topic at hand. He adjusted the sleeves of his tailored blazer and leaned forward, glancing at the tablet Seonghwa held. “So, about the upcoming projects, I think we should focus more on integrating sustainable fabrics,” Hongjoong said, his tone serious and thoughtful. “It’s not just a trend; it’s a necessity for the future of fashion.”

Seonghwa nodded, tapping notes into his tablet. “Got it. We should reach out to more suppliers who specialize in eco-friendly materials. I’ll set up meetings with potential partners next week.”

Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with inspiration. The endless days of working he always had to go through were indeed tiring, but the creative process throughout it all and everything that came out of it were always worth the progressively lessening hours of sleep on his behalf. “And for the designs, I want to blend traditional craftsmanship with modern aesthetics. Something that tells a story of heritage while being innovative.”

“That’s a great direction,” Seonghwa agreed, looking up from his notes. “We could also highlight these stories in our marketing campaigns. You know, show our audience the journey behind each piece.”

Before Hongjoong could respond, Wooyoung let out a dramatic groan from the couch, rolling his eyes. “Man, hearing you two talk about work stuff when I’m supposed to be taking a break from all that is so annoying.”

Hongjoong shot him a bemused look. “Well, maybe if you wanted to take a break from your ‘work stuff,’ you should’ve considered staying home instead of lounging in a work office where work-related matters are supposed to be discussed.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes again, sitting up slightly. “Come on, can’t we set things aside and talk about casual stuff for once? It’s been a while since I last got to be in the same space as both of you, and you’re settling on talking about work?”

For a moment, both Seonghwa and Hongjoong processed his words. Then, Seonghwa was the first to chuckle, shaking his head. “Well, that’s a rather unique way to say that you miss hanging out with us.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, huh? That’s what he meant?”

Wooyoung shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Well, you can’t blame me when the past few months have been nothing but busy schedules, busy schedules, and even more busy schedules for us. I chose to work under you two because I know we promised we’d stay together after college, but even being in the same workspace isn’t helping us have more time to spend together.”

Hongjoong sighed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What’s up with you and being so sentimental?” Quite hypocritical, as he’s been having the same thoughts as Wooyoung lately as well. The only difference between them is that Wooyoung is comfortable with expressing it, but Hongjoong? Well, not really.

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong and gave a knowing smile. “Don’t lie, Hongjoong. You know you feel the same way as Wooyoung does.”

Hongjoong exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Seonghwa could always see right through him regardless of if he wanted him to or not, and sometimes, he doesn’t know if he should appreciate it or be terrified. “Alright, fine. I do miss hanging out like we used to. Things have just been so hectic, especially with all the activities scheduled for the following weeks and months.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to Wooyoung. “Well, seems like you’re right, then. Since you want to talk about ‘casual stuff,’ why not initiate the conversation for us?”

Wooyoung’s eyes brightened. He knew Hongjoong and Seonghwa find him annoying sometimes—well, more often than that, actually—but he never really took it seriously, because he was aware that deep down, they both have a soft spot for him. Unfortunately, for the two older men, Wooyoung has a knack for using that fact to his advantage. “Alright, let’s see... How about we take a stroll around the city later tonight? Just to take our minds off all the stress.”

Seonghwa nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That sounds like a good idea. I actually recommended Hongjoong do the exact same thing all by himself a few days ago, but I figure tagging along with him wouldn’t be so bad.”

Wooyoung beamed. “See, I knew you’d catch my drift.”

Hongjoong was a bit dismissive at first, reminding Seonghwa, “You do know the only person out of the three of us who doesn’t have anything to do today is Wooyoung, right?”

Wooyoung shrugged nonchalantly. “So? I could keep lounging in here until your work hours end.”

Seonghwa chuckled, knowing Wooyoung all too well. He wasn’t one to get bored easily, no, not at all, but in a place such as, like what Hongjoong said, a work office wherein work-related matters are supposed to be discussed, it wouldn’t take longer than a second to tire his energy out. “Are you sure you won’t get bored?"

“No, totally not,” Wooyoung insisted. “I’ve even already experienced staying the night in this office without Hongjoong here, and I didn’t get bored at all. It was, like, super cool. You know those cool rich businessmen in movies who spend the night looking outside the window of their office walls on a chair with a bottle of an alcoholic beverage in hand?”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, you did what?”

Wooyoung’s, however, darted nervously around the office. “Oh. I mean—”

You sat in your small, dimly lit apartment, staring at the blank walls and feeling the embrace of loneliness attach itself to you. The evening stretched ahead with no plans, no friends to meet, and no familiar faces to call. Seonghwa had been kind, but you barely knew him, and calling him a friend felt a little too early. Financial prudence also demanded caution; with the casting still a few days away and no guarantee of immediate income, you couldn’t afford to be reckless with how much you spend.

Maybe a walk outside could be nice?

You sighed and looked at the closet doors, debating whether it was worth the effort. The allure of fresh air and a change of scenery tugged at you, while the fear of venturing out into an unfamiliar city at night held you back. You thought about the headache from yesterday—how intense and strange it had been. It wasn’t a normal headache, and it lingered in your mind. Perhaps a stroll through the nearby park would help clear your thoughts.

With your decision now entirely made, you rose from your bed and headed to your closet. You chose a soft beige knit sweater, its cozy warmth comforting against the evening chill. Pairing it with a long, black skirt that reached down to your ankles and shoes of the same color as your sweater, you completed the outfit with a light scarf draped casually around your neck. You began fixing your appearance up, and once you were satisfied, you grabbed your bag and left the apartment.

As you reached the ground floor, you spotted Madame Dupont at the entrance, preparing to leave. “Madame Dupont?” you called out, quickening your pace to catch up with her.

She turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “Ah, bonsoir! How are you, dear?” she asked, her voice warm and welcoming.

“I’m well, thank you,” you replied, offering her a smile. “Where are you off to?” Your eyes darted to the streets outside.

“I’m just heading to the grocery store,” she said, adjusting the strap of her handbag. “What about you? Where are you going?”

“I was thinking of taking a walk,” you said, glancing towards the door once more. “But if you don't mind, I could accompany you instead.”

Madame Dupont’s face brightened even more. “Oh, that would be lovely! Are you sure you don’t mind?”

A walk to the park may have been your initial plan, but you still weren’t entirely sure the calm atmosphere of the evening would suffice to outweigh both the thoughts inside your head and your worries about possible dangers. “Not at all,” you assured her. “I’d be happy to help.”

The two of you then began to walk together to the bus stop, engaging in light conversation. “How was your day?” you asked as you waited for the bus to arrive.

Madame Dupont smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It was quite eventful, actually. This morning, I had to chase Monsieur Frank’s cat out of my garden again. That rascal has a knack for digging up my flowers!”

You laughed softly, imagining the scene. Monsieur Frank’s féline, Pompidou, was indeed a little ball full of mischief. You’ve had your own set of encounters with him, such as waking up to hearing light scratches by your door—which once happened in the middle of the night and nearly made you consider moving back to Arcadia Bay, having him come out of nowhere and pounce on your shoes when you’re walking out the door, and more. You don’t know why his owner decided to name him Pompidou, but you figured it suits his personality very well. “That sounds like quite the adventure. He’s adorable, but has always been quite of a pain to deal with. Did you manage to catch him?”

“Eventually,” she chuckled. “But not before he managed to scatter soil all over my freshly planted tulips. And then, later in the afternoon, I had a lovely visit from my granddaughter. She’s starting university soon, you know. Full of excitement and nerves, that one.”

You smiled, listening intently. Oh, what would you give to experience starting university for the first time again—with nothing but excitement and nerves, just like Madame Dupont’s granddaughter and nothing like yourself. “Really? That’s wonderful. What’s she going to study?”

“Art history,” Madame Dupont replied, pride evident in her voice. “She’s always had a passion for it. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d spend hours drawing and painting. I’m glad she’s pursuing something she loves.”

The bus arrived, and you both boarded, continuing your conversation during the short ride. Madame Dupont shared stories about her granddaughter’s childhood, her love for art, and her hopes for the future. You listened intently, feeling a warm sense of connection growing between you.

When you arrived at the grocery store, you offered to push the cart, an offer Madame Dupont gratefully accepted. Throughout your journey of navigating through the aisles, you reached for items on the higher shelves that she couldn’t reach, earning appreciative smiles and heartfelt thanks from her.

As you placed a jar of jam into the cart, Madame Dupont continued her stories. “You know, dear, I remember when my granddaughter was just four, she painted the most beautiful landscape. We framed it and it still hangs in our living room. Whenever I look at it, it reminds me of her spirit and creativity.”

“That sounds lovely,” you said, smiling at the thought. You wonder if you had moments in your childhood that were similar to hers. But then again, how would you know? “It must be wonderful to have such a talented family member.”

“I can only imagine that is exactly how your family thinks of you,” Madame Dupont mused, turning to you with a heartfelt smile. Confused, all you could do was let out an awkward chuckle. “What do you mean, Madame Dupont?” you asked, unsure what she was implying.

“You’ve only been here for quite a short while, but let me tell you, dear, it’s easy for me to be able to tell you have a genuine soul. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I really appreciate it—having one of my tenants accompany me to the grocery store isn’t exactly a common occurrence.” She chuckled, placing her hand on top of yours that remained sat on the cart and rubbed her thumb on the back of it shortly before letting go.

“It’s nothing, Madame Dupont,” you attempted to counter, but she wouldn’t relent. She shook her head in response, finding it amusing how you seem to be struggling to allow yourself to accept her kind words. “Well, whatever you say,” was all she settled with before turning her attention back to her grocery shopping list.

While you and Madame Dupont continued to shop together, she suddenly stopped and turned to you. “Would you mind waiting here for a moment, dear? I need to use the bathroom.”

“Of course, take your time,” you replied with a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” she said, patting your arm gently before heading towards the restroom. You positioned the grocery cart in a corner to avoid blocking the aisle, then leaned against it and pulled out your phone. Scrolling through social media, you let yourself get absorbed in the digital world. Minutes passed, the hum of the store fading into the background, when you heard a voice that seemed oddly familiar coming from the other end of the aisle.

Curiosity piqued, you turned off your phone and tucked it back into your bag. Leaning forward, you peeked around the corner to see Seonghwa, reaching for an item on the shelf.

“Seonghwa?” you called out, stepping into the aisle.

His head snapped in your direction, and upon recognizing you, he broke into a warm smile. “Hey! What a surprise to see you again so soon,” he said, his voice laced with genuine delight as he pushed his cart towards you. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled, gesturing to the half-full cart beside you. “Just accompanying my landlord with purchasing her groceries.”

“Oh, do you live around here?” Seonghwa tilted his head, half his hair softly falling down to the side he turned to.

“No, my apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” you explained. “What about you, though? What are you doing here?” you asked, this time gesturing to his cart.

“Oh, me?” He pointed to himself, smiling. “My friends and I were planning to spend a few hours at the park, and we figured we could stop by here for a moment to grab some snacks we could eat.”

“What a coincidence. I was thinking of going to the park, too,” you mused, sharing your initial plans for the night.

Seonghwa’s face then lit up. “Really? Why don’t you come and tag along with us? They both work at the agency that’s hosting the casting you’ll be attending, too. It would be nice if you could get to know them beforehand.”

You hesitated, glancing back towards the restroom where Madame Dupont had disappeared. “That sounds lovely, but I promised my landlord I’d help her with the shopping. Maybe another time?”

He nodded, understanding and not pressing the matter. “Sure, another time it is then. So, speaking of, how’s everything going with the casting preparations?”

“It’s been…” quite a challenge, was what you wanted to say. After all, there was some truth to it. Yet still, you didn’t want to show any signs of wavering. “It’s been going well. I’ll definitely be there.”

“Great! I really think you could be our turning point,” he said enthusiastically, his eyes earnest and full of hope.

You laughed, trying to lighten the mood and ease the pressure. “No pressure, right? Or else I might not show up.”

He grinned, playing along. “Okay, okay, no pressure.”

Just then, a voice called out his name from another part of the store. Seonghwa groaned, rubbing his temple with a resigned smile. “That’s my cue. This is why we can’t go anywhere together without causing a scene.”

You chuckled, amused by his predicament. “Having friends like that must be fun.” You wouldn’t know anything about it for sure, but the thought seemed nice. Maybe in the future, you’d also get to experience having your name be shouted in a public grocery store by a close friend of yours. Or, who knows? You could be the one shouting.

“Fun, yes. Embarrassing, absolutely,” he said, rolling his eyes but with a fond smile. “I’d better go. See you at the casting?”

“Definitely. See you,” you said, waving as he walked away. Almost immediately after Seonghwa left, Madame Dupont returned, looking refreshed. “Who was that young man you were talking to?” she asked, seemingly intrigued.

“Oh, just… an acquaintance,” you replied, still feeling quite hesitant over considering Seonghwa as a friend. Hopefully, one day, you’ll feel more comfortable referring to him with such a term. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

Madame Dupont nodded, smiling warmly. “Alright, dear. Let’s continue, shall we?”

The two of you resumed your shopping, chatting and laughing as you navigated the aisles. You reached for items on the higher shelves, and Madame Dupont shared more stories about her family. Her anecdotes were heartwarming, filled with fond memories and lively descriptions. As you listened, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging. These simple moments, like helping her shop and hearing her stories, were making you feel more at home in this new city.

Seonghwa pushed his grocery cart around the store, his eyes scanning the aisles as he searched for Hongjoong and Wooyoung. He maneuvered through various sections, weaving past other shoppers and glancing down every row. Finally, after a few minutes of searching, he spotted them and couldn’t help but pause, taken aback by the sight.

Wooyoung was perched inside an empty shopping cart, looking quite pleased with himself, while Hongjoong pushed it with a resigned, tired expression on his face.

“Should’ve known you were only referring to yourself when you said you wanted ‘us’ to have fun,” Hongjoong deadpanned, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he sighed heavily.

Wooyoung scoffed, playfully swatting at Hongjoong’s hand that gripped the handle of the cart. “Pushing a shopping cart can be fun too! You just don’t know how to do it right. Now push faster!”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but chuckle, his amusement evident as he approached them. “Should I be surprised?”

“Yes!” Wooyoung replied instantly, grinning.

“No,” Hongjoong said at the same time, his tone flat.

“What took you so long, anyway? You said you were just going to grab a few snacks before we head to the counter,” Hongjoong asked, his movements with the cart becoming more mindless as he pushed and pulled it back and forth.

“That I was, but I came across her,” Seonghwa said with a shrug. He figured there was no need to specify who he was talking about, as Hongjoong’s eyes widened in recognition.

“The girl from Rue de la Paix?” Hongjoong inquired, just to make sure.

From his seat in the cart, Wooyoung interjected. “For how much longer are you gonna refer to her as the girl from Rue de la Paix? Aren’t you planning on, like, getting her name or something, at least?”

“Not when Seonghwa keeps forgetting to do that,” Hongjoong answered, gesturing toward Seonghwa, who now sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“I overheard you saying you got a call from her recently. You have her number, right? You could just ask for her name through a text message. Not unless you want to keep referring to her using such a long nickname,” Wooyoung suggested, shrugging.

Seonghwa nodded, considering the idea. “Yeah, I’ll think about that.”

Hongjoong shifted the conversation back. “So, what was she doing here?”

“She was helping her landlord with grocery shopping,” was what Seonghwa responded.

“Does she live around here?” Hongjoong asked, his curiosity piqued and his hands no longer pushing the cart he held back and forth.

“No, she said her apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” Seonghwa explained. “She was just being helpful.”

Wooyoung, still in the cart, dramatically sighed. “Ah, the noble deeds of the common folk.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, flicking the back of Wooyoung’s head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous but lovable,” Wooyoung retorted, grinning widely. “Come on, admit it. You missed having me around.”

Hongjoong groaned. “No, I didn’t,” yes, he did.

Seonghwa chuckled, joining in. “Alright, enough of this. Let’s finish up and get going. Wooyoung, get out of the cart before we get kicked out of here.”

Wooyoung pouted but complied, hopping out of the cart with exaggerated movements. “Fine, but only because I’m hungry.”

After what felt like nearly half an hour of waiting by the side of the streets, a bus finally came into view, and thankfully, nearly all of its seats were vacant. You took the bag of groceries from Madame Dupont’s grasp, motioning for her to get in first. Once you both settled on one of the seats by the middle, you let out a sigh of relief as you leaned your head on the window. Today didn’t go exactly as you planned, but the point of unwinding and getting a breath of fresh air was accomplished anyway, wasn’t it?

“So, about the young man from the grocery store,” Madame Dupont started, making you sit up straight and turn your head to her. “How do you two know each other?”

You then purse your lips in excitement over finally getting to tell Madame Dupont about the casting. “Remember when I asked you for directions to Rue de la Paix for my job search?” you asked, waiting for a nod of confirmation first. Once you received it, you continued speaking. “That’s where I met him. His name is Seonghwa, and he works under an agency of fashion and modeling.”

“That sounds interesting,” Madame Dupont mused, almost to herself. “How did you two meet each other?”

“I wouldn’t say meet,” you said sheepishly, remembering how Seonghwa was quite literally running in full speed towards you. “But he’s seen me before, and said he wanted to approach me back then but couldn’t. The reason he wanted to approach me was, well…”

“Well?” Madame Dupont tilted her head, intrigued. “Don’t leave me hanging, dear,” she joked, making you laugh.

“I may or may not have been casted to become a model.”

There were a few seconds of silence between both of you, and you figured it’s safe to assume Madame Dupont wasn’t speaking because she was trying to process your words. Suddenly, you’re caught by surprise when a wide smile spreads across her face as she gently grabs a hand of yours using both of hers and shakes it in excitement.

“That’s wonderful, dear! Especially since you’ve been doing nothing but search for jobs the moment you stepped foot here,” she beamed, and for a moment, you nearly believed she was more excited for the opportunity than you were. “I’m a hundred percent certain you’ll do very well and get accepted.”

“I wish I could say the same thing, Madame.” You chuckled. “I’m still really nervous, and the casting’s happening on Friday this week.”

“Friday?” Her eyes widened in surprise, and all you could do was nod. “Well, that is very close, indeed. Have you been going through preparations?”

“I have,” you said, smiling. “It still doesn’t feel real to me, though.” You didn’t want to blame yourself for feeling like this, as for a person who’s always been accustomed to staying behind the shadows, suddenly stepping into a career where the main point is to let yourself be seen is indeed a terrifying experience.

“That’s normal. It’s a huge shift, after all,” her voice took on a soft tone, attempting to ease your nerves. “Do you have anything to wear for the casting yet?”

“Oh, about that…” you trailed off, your mind going back in time to recall the photos you took of the designs from the sketchbook. “There’s a few designs I want to base my attire on, but I haven’t gone off on a kickstart about it yet. Preparations have been mostly about my confidence and less about my appearance.”

Madame Dupont smiled, leaning back in her seat. “Is that so? Well why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could help you with that, dear,” she offered.

You felt a bit hesitant. “I’d appreciate that, Madame Dupont. But I don’t wanna take up too much of your time and bother you.”

She waved your concerns off. “Oh, dear, you’ll never be a bother to me. You helped me out today, and I think it’s only right for me to return the favor.”

“Alright, but, how?” You tilted your head, confused about where she was heading to.

Madame Dupont let out a hum, eyes darting all around the bus as she pondered over what to say before fully turning her gaze back to you. “Do you know why I never get bored even when I rarely go outside unless it’s necessary?”

You shook your head. “No, why?”

“Sewing, knitting, and crocheting are some of the things that keep me company,” she explained. Seeing your puzzled expression, she added, “And I’m bringing that up because I was thinking I can return the favor by sewing your outfit for you.”

You hesitated. “Oh, but... I don’t want to turn your hobby into an obligation.” Sure, it seemed like it would be of a huge amount of help to you, but was it really right to accept it?

Seeing your hesitance, she insisted, “I would love to help you. Besides, it’s no trouble at all.” Just as you were about to politely decline, the bus stopped in front of your apartment, and Madame Dupont used it as an opportunity to wave off any further protests. “You have no other choice but to accept my help,” she said firmly.

Eventually, you gave up, letting her have her way. “Alright, Madame Dupont.” You took the groceries and let her get off the bus first, following soon after. As you both walked towards the apartment, you turned to her, “Would you like me to help with unpacking your groceries?”

“No, dear, you’ve done enough for me today,” she said kindly. “You should go get some rest—but not before you send me the image of the attire you want to use as inspiration.”

Nodding, you promised to send the photos once you got back to your apartment. “Thank you so much, Madame Dupont.”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” she replied with a warm smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing what we’ll come up with.”

Back in your apartment, you lay down on your bed, the events of the day replaying in your mind. You took out your phone and scrolled back and forth through the pictures of the designs from the sketchbook, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. Each design had its own charm, but one particular outfit kept catching your eye. It was the off-shoulder dress with delicate lace detailing that had given you a headache the first time you saw it, but now that you were more... used to the sight of it, it seemed perfect. After some deliberation, you decided that this was the one. You sent the image to Madame Dupont’s contact number with a short message.

This is the one I’d like to use as inspiration. Thank you so much for your help!

As you put your phone down, you muttered to yourself, “Now that that’s out of the way, I should probably go clean up before I head to bed.” You stood up, stretching your arms above your head, and made your way to the bathroom. The warm water from the shower helped to wash away the fatigue of the day, and as you stood under the stream, you felt a sense of relief and anticipation for what was to come.

Meanwhile, at the park, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were seated in one of the grassy areas, enjoying the peaceful evening. The sun had returned to its peaceful slumber long ago, and the park was illuminated by soft, ambient lights, creating a serene atmosphere. “So, any updates on your missing sketchbook?” Wooyoung asked, before popping a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.

Hongjoong’s expression darkened, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “No, and I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled. “The universe might as well tell me to quit my career at this point.”

Seonghwa shook his head, refusing to encourage Hongjoong’s behavior. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a pessimist. We’ll find it eventually.”

Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his frustration evident. “Seonghwa, take a moment to reflect on the circumstances we’re currently under. How can I not be pessimistic? My entire collection for the autumn fashion week is in that sketchbook, along with years of work.”

Seonghwa nodded, understanding Hongjoong’s point but still trying to lift his spirits. “I get what you’re feeling, but moping around won’t do anything. We need to stay proactive.”

Wooyoung, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “Why’s the sketchbook so important to you anyway? I mean, yeah, that’s a stupid question since it, like you said, has all the designs you’ve made since college and the sketches for the autumn fashion week, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not the only reason. What’s the real deal?”

Hongjoong’s eyes flickered with an emotion he quickly masked. “You’re thinking way too deeply into it,” he deflected, looking away.

Wooyoung shrugged, sensing Hongjoong’s reluctance to delve deeper. “Well, whatever.”

🪞 — lividstar.

[bobfloydsbabe]

illicit affairs | bob floyd x oc | mob boss au

SUMMARY: Robert Floyd runs one of San Diego's most notorious crime syndicates, but his new secretary, Abby Lennox, may just be his downfall.

WARNINGS: mob boss au, bob being horny on main, possessiveness (if you squint). strictly 18+/minors dni

WORD COUNT: ~0.6k

A/N: I haven't been able to get Mob Boss Bob out of my head all day, so here we are with an introduction, a moodboard, and a small blurb. This AU will not be a full-length fic, but a collection of drabbles and blurbs. Don't hesitate to send me questions or headcanons!

MBB MASTERLIST

EDIT: Join the taglist (google form–no personal info required)

“Sir?”

He looks up and finds his secretary standing in the doorway to his office with a tablet in her hands.

“Come in,” he says, waving her inside with one hand while closing the lid of his laptop on the other. “Close the door, please.”

He’s asked none of his past secretaries to close the door before, and Jake’s warning him about getting close rings in his ears yet again. He’d dismissed him then, but as Bob’s eyes rake across Abby’s body while she closes the door and walks to his desk, he’s starting to think he should heed Jake’s warning.

“What can I do for you?”

Her brows draw together before she seems to catch herself and places her expression back in neutral. The corner of his mouth twitches as she sits in one of the black leather chairs on her side of the desk.

“Mitchell called and asked for a meeting. I tried to set one up with Trace, but he refused. He wants to meet with you personally.”

Bob leans back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach. “He does, does he?”

Abby nods. “Yes, sir.”

Bob adjusts in his seat, trying to ignore what Abby calling him sir does to him. His trousers feel tight as he meets her dark and intense eyes across the desk.

“Did he tell you what we would discuss at this meeting?”

Abby looks down at her tablet for a second before returning her eyes to him. “No, sir,” she tells him. “How would you like me to proceed?”

Bob weighs the possibilities in his mind. Mitchell is impulsive on the best of days. Reckless on the worst. Bob had been searching for a way out of his dealings with the much older man since he came into his position, and whatever Mitchell had gotten himself into now was surely the excuse he needed.

He leans forward again, resting his forearms on the large oak desk. “Set it up for this afternoon,” he says. “Call Trace and let her know to meet me there.”

“I’ll get right on it,” she says and stands, wobbling slightly. Bob shoots out of his seat, reaching across the desk for her arm to steady her. The feeling of her soft skin under his calloused palm sends a shiver down his spine.

He pulls back and watches Abby walk back to the door. As her hand lands on the knob, Bob opens his mouth before his head can catch up to what he’s saying.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

Bob watches as she squares her shoulders and turns back around slowly. There’s a dark hair stuck in her lip gloss that he can’t take his eyes off.

“Sitting on my couch with wine and takeout, probably.”

Bob walks around his desk, stopping right in front of Abby. He towers over her, and from this angle he can see just a hint of cleavage. “I’d like you to go to the fundraiser with me.”

He meant to go alone, but the idea of mingling with senators and other state officials on his own makes him want to scream.

“You do?”

She’s looking anywhere but at him when he raises a hand, places it on her cheek, and lets his thumb drag the hair away from her mouth. “I do,” he says and leans in closer.

Abby’s breath audibly hitches when his lips brush against her ear. “Wear blue,” he whispers, “so they all know you’re with me.”

Likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

[happybird16]

"Hey," his soft tone brings you to awareness, followed by the sound of the bedroom door opening further. A light rattle of the metal handle, the soft drag of hardwood against carpet. "You're still in bed?"

His feet pad across the carpet to your side. You grumble, peeling your eyes opened to squint at the dark haired man. "Bad brain day," you grunt, quickly closing your eyes again and pressing your face back into the pillow.

You must be a mess, hair all twisted and knotted from tossing and turning. Laying on your stomach, the bedsheets are all twisted and tight around your legs. The bed tilts sharply as Levi sits by your side, hip close to your shoulder. Placing an arm by your side, he hovers worriedly over you. "Another headache.." he murmurs softly. You turn to face him, peeling your eyes open to meet his softened gaze.

"The light hurts," you groan. Even the darkness of the bedroom feels like knives stabbing into your eyes. Levi frowns, brows drawing up. He presses a thumb to your temple, working the digit into the lines of your furrowed brow, up across your forehead and between your brows, slowly soothing away all the stressed wrinkles.

"Shhhh," he soothes softly. He speaks quietly, immediately considerate of your aching skull. Your eyes flutter closed at the soft touch. "A migraine then. Have you taken anything for it?"

"No," you admit with a sigh. His frown deepens even further at your admission. "Didn't want to move."

He clicks his tongue, thumb dragging slowly across your cheek. "I'll grab something. Close your eyes again, i'll be right back."

Burying your face back into your pillow, you mutter a quick thanks. He pats your hair softly before rising. His socked feet cross the carpet even quieter, careful, almost gliding away.

The next thing you know, the mattress is tilting again, Levi's outer thigh pressing to your shoulder as he sits back down. A pill bottle rattling softly in one hand, a fresh glass of water in the other, Levi urges you to sit up. "I brought Ibuprofen. Drink the whole glass too, it'll help."

Your head is pounding, but you follow his direction. Taking the proffered glass, you press it to your forehead for a brief moment, soaking in the cool relief, before knocking back a couple of tablets. "Thanks again," you press yourself to his side, keeping your eyes closed as you press your head into the skin at his neck. Even the little bit of light filtering through the closed blinds hurts.

"It's nothing," Levi presses a quick kiss to your forehead. He lives for providing acts of service to his loved ones -family and friends- you know this, but still you always been like a burden whenever your brain betrays you. Levi's arm falls across your back, fingers pressing into the small of your waist and pulling you close to his side. "Have you eaten anything today? Or drank anything?"

"Mmmmgn," you whine, knowing he's going to be unhappy with your response. "Haven't really moved."

Levi clicks his tongue, softly petting the back of your head. His fingers thread into your hair, working tight circles into your scalp. "That's not good, you know that right? You need to remember to eat."

"Look whose talking," you chime back, pressing a quick kiss to his neck. Already your head feels lighter, your thoughts unfogged. You frown, "Sorry for being a bother."

"Hey," you can feel the depth of his frown through your hair. Levi often forgets to eat when he's particularly busy, simply not noticing the sharp aches of hunger pains. "We help each other, remember?"

"Yeah," your eyes flutter, head pressing heavily against his shoulder. "We're a team."

You end up spending the next hour with your head in his lap, the bedroom lights still off and his fingers working diligently into your scalp. You fall back asleep, right there, nose pressed into his thigh. When you wake up, you feel brand new, refreshed, and Levi has a light meal prepared for you.

[blakbonnet]

Artist of the Week!

So last weekend, I announced that I'd like to feature an artist every weekend for both new fandom joinees who might not have seen some of this art and older fans who like the nostalgia. This week's artist is Ash @aha-my-villainous-thoughts 💖 who also, wonderful that they are, agreed to answer a few questions for me!

Which App Do You Use To Draw When I’m at my big set up I use Clip Studio Paint, I love it so much. It’s very straight forward to dip straight in, has all of the bells and whistles you need from an elite drawing program, and the community elements where you can see assets and brushes is a lot of fun - although I still to this day have no idea how to earn coins to buy assets?! I use a XPPen Artist 15.6 Pro Graphics Tablet to draw into the program, although my best tip with graphics tablets is to get a screen protector, mine got covered in marks before I noticed. Recently I also got an iPad 10.9 to use as a digital sketchbook I can carry around, and while I am enjoying Procreate, I think CSP is a better art program overall.

Fave Brushes? On iPad I stick to the technical pen, studio pen and the soft airbrush, along with the textures and the light pen. I don’t think Procreate has great ‘painting’ brushes, whereas on CSP I would marry the Gouache brushes, I love how they blend and texture as you work.

Your favourite piece you’ve drawn? I’m a super self indulgent artist, I try to draw the kind of stuff I like to look at, so it’s a lot of colour, a lot of fabric and details. My fave piece for detail is the one I did for the OFMD RBB last year - Crescente Devotione, there’s a blushing sentient stool in it! For colour I’m in love with this sleepy time Ed in a lil negligee and a Holly Golightly eyemask, he's my lock screen because I'm trash.

Who harder to draw: Ed or Stede? Oh for sure Stede. I love Rhys Darby, but the man has like no lips. I stand by this meltdown.

One essential tip for beginner artists? Comparison is the thief of joy, don’t measure yourself against others - particularly when you’re finding your groove. Be self indulgent af. Also get a screen protector for whatever digital screen you draw on, and BACK. THINGS. UP. Whether in an online account, or on an external harddrive - or both?! BACK THAT SHIT UP.

Why OFMD? I’ve been in a few fandoms in the past, always as a pretty passive enjoyer, little fanart here or there, little fanfic sprinkled around, but there’s just something about the way this fandom feels? It feels like a group of friends who’ve got their own lives and their goals, but they still exist in each other's orbit, it’s like this feeling of returning home to somewhere you’re always welcome. There’s so many good moments in the show for both comedy and some gut wrenching pathos. Sign up for the hot guy in leather and get got by this beautiful delicate little love story. It’s something about queer joy of thriving, not just surviving. Something about finding love and romance no matter your age or what’s past before. Something about found family, and unlikely friendships, and community and silliness. I was already a goner when Taika put on the wig, but then when he teared up in a blanket fort while trying not to die? Excuse me sir, I did not need feelings that powerful. It was literally waking me up at night thinking about his last shot weeping in the nook - like are you kidding me?! I’m supposed to finish watching and be normal after that??

[vibratingskull]

I love the way you write Thrawn sooo much! You’re so talented!! I would really love if you did a continuation of the story with the shy, stuttering reader, perhaps with some crushes and romance, if you’re so inclined? That story made me so soft!

Thank you so much, dear ❤️

Part 1

Thrawnxgn!reader

You’re deeply focused on your drawing, moving your stylus on the screen, retouching the defender AGAIN. You bite down your cheek, thinking back at Pryce's reaction, she’s truly mean and rotten to the core, you don’t like her.

Well, to be fair you don’t like politicians in general, but her? It’s a completely new level.

Thanks to Thrawn you avoided complete humiliation but you feel like she will hold the grudge and unleash it on you when she gets the opportunity. You will need to watch behind your back now. 

You’re internally fuming.

You sigh, turning your head to turn a button of your tablet and jump out of your skin.

Grand Admiral Thrawn is right behind your back, leaning over your shoulder to watch you work.

“Maker, Gr-Grand Admiral!” You shout, putting your hand over your beating heart. “You’re gonna kill so-someone one day!”

“Do not mind me, continue to work. It is a very interesting process.” He tilts his head, vaguely amused by your reaction.

“In fact I-I just finished.” You grumble, trying to calm down your heart. You hand him your tablet to get his opinion “I modified… The heart and mo-motor to lighten it. It-It would solve the pr-problem of admiral Kon-Konstantine.”

He slowly nods, unfolding the different layers of the prototype plans. 

“How are you feeling?” He finally asks, raising his burning red eyes from the screen to meet yours.

“I-I think it’s a good so-solution. Th-their gr-gra…” You gulp, squirming on your seat under his intense gaze and focus on your next sentence “Their gravitational centers should be more ba… balanced now.” 

Maker damnit, almost!

You internally curse yourself, you’re in your own lab, on your own territory, stop acting so cowardly and control your voice! You’re a chief technician of the Empire! Act like one!

He slowly shakes his head and looks around your empty lab, before going back to you.

“I was talking about what happened earlier, cha’cah.” He speaks softly. “You gained back the upper hand, but I saw you were hurt by Pryce’s words. Do you wish to speak about it?”

Oh… Oh.

“It’s no-nothing. I’m used to i-it.” you lie. “I-it’s like a mon-monday for me.” you try humor.

Judging by his unimpressed look he sees right through your lie and doesn’t find your pique at yourself funny.

“I am serious, cha’cah.”

You lower your head, fidgeting your fingers. What can you say? You’ve lived through mockery all your life and you buried yourself in works to forget. You chose a field where you didn’t need to speak with people, until you became chief technician.

He takes one of your hands and kneels before you, looking up at your lowered gaze, squeezing it gently.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nod,avoiding his gaze, preferring to remain mute rather than having your voice crash with emotion in front of him again. Maybe a bad habit…

“I want you to know it. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I can bear the weight.” His hand comes to your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Alright, cha’cah?”

You gulp.

“Al-alright.”

He nods, satisfied.

“I know you are upset. Can I do something for you?” He asks gently, rising back on his feet.

“D-don’t you have du-duties to attend to?”

“It can wait until I have comforted you.” He casually responds, like it was normal to throw away his Grand Admiral’s duties for something so trivial as your sentiments.

But you take comfort knowing you precede his duties.

“Ca-can I have a hug?”

He chuckles, circling you with his strong arms, pressing you against his heart.

“Of course, cha’cah. You can have one anytime.” He kisses the top of your head, caressing your back.

You snuggle against him, holding him tight, listening to his steady heartbeat, your ire subsiding in the moment’s softness.

@Bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

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[thirstycrab]

It's so frustrating to be an artist nowadays. When I post drawing on social media it gets only around 2-5 likes. At first I thought "okay, my skill might be pretty low and my art lacks originality (because I used to copy reference photos and drew fan art), I need to study a little bit more and people will notice me. So I went to college and got an art degree

I thought "traditional art is outdated, it's difficult to photograph, it looks different in social media then in real life and it's harder to create versatile images with traditional instruments". So I bought a tablet and started learning digital drawing. I took a half-year course on 3D and studied digital art for games and character concept art for almost 2 years in online school to broaden the scope of my abilities

My graphic black and white illustrations received little to no likes, so I thought "maybe I need to use more colors" and started painting colorful scenes

I tried to create characters with interesting backstories, I designed every piece of clothing, every prop from scratch, drew a lot of original art. I believed that some day people would finally recognize my talent. But over time, my works became less and less popular. Somehow my skewed old copies from photos got 10 times more engagement then the current posts

I'm honestly so tired at this point. My motivation is at an all-time low. I tried countless different approaches, and nothing works, there's no hope left. During all this time of unsuccessful attempts to show myself to the world, I learned one thing: to become a sought-after artist, you first need to be a good marketer. And the one thing I'm terrible at is marketing and self-promotion

I feel isolated. I don't understand what's wrong with my art. Sometimes, when I finish drawing, I'm so pleased with the result that it feels like it's gonna become a hit. I start imagining tons of likes, reposts, new followers and admiring comments flooding my dms. But then I post it... And nothing happens. Dead silence. I might like it from my other account, my friend might like it out of politeness and that's all

It's especially debilitating, because my job and the whole life revolves around art and seeing that people don't like my drawings hurts my self esteem. I wish I never became an artist. But I also had no choice due to problems with concentration. If I immediately don't understand something, I give up and further attempts to understand the topic feel like literal torture. I wish I was good at math and physics. It seems to me that it would be way easier to be an engineer or something, because in art there's usually no clear definition between right and wrong, unlike in science. In STEM, you can either solve a problem or fail. Drawing "the right way" doesn't necessarily mean that companies would hire you. You need to have soft skills, you have to network, participate in projects, etc. That's like a lottery. You never know what will make people gravitate towards your art and it's pretty confusing

[eltanin0]

I just found this blog and I noticed that a lot of your stuff seems, well, oddly 3D. I don't mean like in a bad way but it feels like rendered but untextured 3D models? I kinda want to ask what your art process is (sorry for mini-rant)

thanks for checking out my blog! and no need to apologize for anything.

hmm, my art process. honestly i have no idea what to say, i dont know how people normally answer this question so i cant base it off anything either. i'm still kinda new to this whole art thing but i'll try and answer, super sorry if i get this completely wrong and this was all a waste of time.

i guess i'll just talk about how i draw things step by step? for the high effort pieces at least.

ok, so for starters like step 0. when it's a high effort piece, i can already see the image in my mind. i see the pose, i see the general lighting, the layout of stuff, but it's a bit blurry. if i cant see this mental image, the drawing usually comes out extremely poorly.

this is kind of an example of what i see in my head? this might be all useless info idk, but this is i guess where i start.

well step 1 is just the sketch and line. i start with just sketching the general shapes, then slowly refining it until it fits close enough to the image in my head. then in the line layer i'll fix any mistakes the sketch had and add more details to it. oh and for brush, it's just a round brush, like default. i dont know how much of a difference using a drawing tablet does, but i dont use one so... yeah.

i should've put more effort into the sketch for this drawing, but i did not.

next i do flat colors. pretty simple, i just select the smart select the outside of the line layer, invert the selection and now i can't paint outside the lines. i dont really think about what colors i use, i just use whatever the characters normal colors are.

next i do the shading, but first. i duplicate flat layer and recolor it to like a cream color

like so. for high effort pieces, i was told online to shade in pretty much black and white. now actually onto shading. there's 2 kinda shading i do, 1 from the proper light source, and 1 that's kinda just a shadow because things are close together (like corners and stuff). and i'll shade them on separate layers so i can adjust them individually however i want. oh right, i'll either use a very dark color, pretty much black and the the layer blending mode set to multiply. or i'll use a light kind of gray, tinted slightly yellow or something and set the layer blend mode to difference. then i just use a soft air brush and shade in the ways i described above. shading from regular light source, and the corner stuff thing.

normal lightsource - - - - - corner thing

then toggle both layers on and mess with the opacity of each layer until you get what you want.

then you can toggle the normal flats layer, the one that has color and it should apply the shading decently. you can mess with the opacity again on the shadows.

next i do lighting. i just grab a very light color, usually pretty close to white and set the layer blend mode to overlay. then i use a soft airbrush and "light" it? idk i just do like the opposite of the normal shadows, lighter the closer it is to the light source

mess around with the opacity as usual. then i do pretty much the same thing if there's another light source. in this case there was a blue light kinda coming from underneath, so i did that.

now from here i would go back to the flats layer, make a copy, and mess around with different layer styles and properties and settings. sometimes just messing around is useful. in this case, i felt it was too bright and colorful, so i decreased the brightness and saturation of it.

i think it helped a little bit but who knows.

now i do some kinda highlights and details. i grabbed the colors that were in the background and used those. it was a weird pale blue. i had 2 layers for this, 1 of them was specifically for his antenna things at the top, and one was just for his "skin". anyway, the antenna layer was normal, just kinda gave it an outline with the random reflective circles you see normally in pictures, no thoughts behind them. the skin tho had the layer blend mode set to soft light, i thought it looked best this way. it was just more random things to imply it was slightly reflective.

together the layers looked like this. i think it makes him look glossier which is what i was aiming for.

next, and it pretty much the end for pebbles, i got someone to look at it and let me know if they think anything was missing. they said it looked a little unsaturated. which it does. so i made a new layer, set the blend mode to saturation, grabbed the airbrush and made it pretty inline with the lighting layer.

that's kinda it. the background i didnt really care about, just drew and colored it. blurred it a bunch and added a bunch of shadows. i did add some like, "overshadows" is what i call it, i just draw some big shadows down the screen as the top layer.

but yeah thats literally everything i did to draw this. i would like to apologize if this was not at all what you wanted to know, i'm certain i've screwed this up bigtime. super sorry for wasting your time. if there's anything i can do to help, please ask. i owe you a proper answer to your question, i'm just really dumb. sorry for rambling. sorry. and sorry if the drawing i used for example didnt showcase what you wanted to know.

also, i really like your art! please keep up the great work!

[void-imp-archived]

hi! would you mind doing a tutorial about how you do shading on your sims? like the shadows under their chin, etc?

hello!

i want to start off with saying, i don't do this on every edit i make. i use cc that add shadows to the face, like this by simandy and this by joshseoh. it's really neat and i definitely recommend them!

mxao from reshade also adds shadows, here's a (bad) example:

i honestly don't consider myself very good at adding shadows myself in photoshop but when i do, i usually follow these steps. i use a drawing tablet for this but you can do it without, it will probably be a bit harder though.

add a new layer and set it to multiply

pick a desaturated red/purpley/brown color

with a soft brush, follow the shape of the jaw/chin. kind of like a weird looking beard

go to filter -> blur -> gaussian blur and blur it as much as you feel like. i did 18 pixels here

erase the part above the chin

with a large soft brush you can kind of?? trim the part that's left?? until it looks good to you (i'm just bullshitting my way through life ok)

lower the opacity until it looks good to you

(optional) mess with the hue/saturation because you didn't like the way it turned out

cry because it's still kinda bad but everything is a learning process