#Sometimes I wonder if maybe I’d be a bigger artist if I didn’t just draw my own characters most other times I don’t not care !! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scuttling · 3 years ago

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Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

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twdeadfanfic · 4 years ago

Text

St. Patrick’s night III

Murphy MacManus x Reader

Summary: You’re left alone on St. Patrick’s night, the people you were supposed to hang out with seemingly having forgotten you, but what seemed to be an awful night turns into something completely different when you meet the MacManus twins.

Another chapter for this thing that was supposed to be a one-shot but got out of hand...

The next day at work, you were once again distracted thinking about the MacManus twins. You wondered if they meant it when they’d said they’d pick you up from work that day, you were a bit worried that they wouldn’t, but you couldn’t see them lying like that…maybe they’d forget, though, or something else would come up… You knew it was better not to overthink it, though, and you tried to focus on doing your job.

It wasn’t easy, though, as you kept wondering about Murphy, and how he hadn’t said anything about having kissed you, and he hadn’t kissed you again either… You knew it was probably because he’d kissed you only because it was St. Patrick, but, what if he thought you didn’t want to kiss him? That you weren’t interested? Maybe you should have said something when he’d kissed you? You wouldn’t mind kissing him again…

You wouldn’t mind taking time to get to know each other either, see if you both wanted to go on dates or something…your cheeks heated up at the idea, feeling nervous already and it was just an idea in your head…and Murphy might not even be interested. He hadn’t said anything about it after all. Maybe you should try to gather the courage to actually ask him yourself…it sounded intimidating, though…

Focusing on your job was proving to be hard, even if you tried your best, and you couldn’t stop counting the hours until you were done, barely managing to eat your lunch. Once the clock marked five, you and your coworkers began to clean up your desks and put everything into place before gathering your own stuff and leaving.

You walked in front of a group of your coworkers, who were talking and laughing together, ignoring you, but you didn’t care anymore, you were better off without them. As you walked outside, you saw the MacManus waiting for you, and you couldn’t help your smile. Yes, you were much better with the twins as your friends than trying to socialize with the assholes you worked with. The brothers smiled too when they saw you, approaching you to greet you.

“Hi, lass.”

“Hi, you came.” You didn’t mean to sound like you had thought they might stand you up, but you did sound a bit surprised.

“Of course, love, we told ye,” Murphy said, frowning.

“Yeah, yer a woman of little faith, lass,” Connor teased you, but he frowned when he saw your coworkers walking out of the building too, stopping at the door to chat and say goodbye to each other without even giving you a glance. “Don’t blame ye, considerin’ the kind of pricks yer surrounded with,” Connor said, didn’t seem to mind if your coworkers hear him or not…you were a bit afraid of their reaction if they did…but no, Connor was right, they were pricks.

Murphy was looking at your coworkers too, but he wasn’t frowning like Connor, instead, he smirked as his eyes filled with mischief, and you barely had time to wonder what he was up to before he’d stepped even closer to you, reaching to cup your face, and then he was kissing you.

It wasn’t as tentative and soft as the St.Patrick’s kiss, neither as brief, and you felt your brain sort of melt as butterflies seemed to flutter in your belly. Your hands found their way to Murphy’s shoulders almost by their own accord, but he didn’t seem to mind, as he placed a hand on your waist while the other kept cupping your cheek, even when he pulled back.

You could only blink at him in silence, your brain still feeling a bit numb in the best way, and Murphy smirked at you.

“Better than the St.Patrick’s kiss, love?” He asked, loud enough for your coworkers, who had gone silent, to hear. You nodded, still wordless, and Murphy’s smile went bigger.

“So…should I kiss the lass too or…” Connor said, and it was obvious that he was joking, but Murphy frowned nonetheless, scoffing as he shoved his brother, who chuckled.

“Come on, love, let’s go.” Murphy smiled at you, offering you his arm, and you felt a bit shy but hooked your arm with him, smiling bashfully when Murphy smiled at you. Connor smirked and walked to your other side, hooking his arm with yours too, and Murphy rolled his eyes. “Will ye quit?!” He complained, trying to hit his brother, and so you ducked your head.

“Hey, not fighting while I’m in the middle…” You joked, chuckling.

“Sorry, lass,” both twins apologized as you three began walking, Connor letting go of your arm.

“So…do you have plans?” You asked as you walked.

“What if we get somethin’ to eat and go to our place before goin’ to doc’s?” Connor suggested.

“We live right in front of the pub,” Murphy explained.

“Well, that’s convenient,” you chuckled. “Okay, sounds good.”

The Irish neighborhood wasn’t close to your work, but you went walking anyway. You didn’t mind, and neither did the twins, who kept arguing about what to get for dinner. Murphy wanted pizza and Connor Chinese, and both twins were trying to win you to their side, but you didn’t mind, you liked both.

“Come on, ye have to pick one,” Murphy told you. “And sure ye know pizza is better, aye?” You didn’t know how Murphy could look like trouble one second, then the next he could give such convincing puppy eyes, but you were about to cave and pick pizza even if ye were leaning more to Chinese.

“We literally had pizza yesterday,” Connor complained, rolling his eyes at his twin before looking at you. “Seriously, lass, we’d only eat pizza if it were up to him.”

“Ye weren’t complainin’ that much when ye ate a whole pizza by yerself…” Murphy grumbled.

They both looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to choose, and you tried not to give in to Murphy’s puppy eyes. “Well, if you had pizza yesterday, then I’d say it’s fair that we have Chinese today.”

“Aye!” Connor nodded, looking at his brother with a smug grin, and Murphy scoffed.

“Can’t believe ye betrayed me like this, love,” he pouted, but then he was smirking, and so you knew he didn’t mean it.

“We can have pizza any other day,” you offered, smiling.

“Aye? Ye wanna eat with us another day?” Murphy asked, grinning in that way that lighted his face in such a pretty way that gave you all the butterflies.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded, looking down shyly. “If you wanna.”

“Sure we do, love,” Murphy said with that pretty grin and Connor nodded, smiling.

“Okay..okay, great.” You smiled bashfully, glad that it seemed they did want to eat with you any other day and hang out with you.

The brothers hadn’t been kidding, they did live in front of the pub, in an old building that didn’t seem quite fitting for housing… You didn’t know how you expected their place to be, but certainly not what you saw when you walked in, and you blinked as you looked around.

It was…it was illegal lofting, that for starters, you were sure of it, and the distribution was…peculiar, so to speak, especially for people not living alone, considering that there were no rooms. Not even a bathroom, there was no wall or anything at all hiding the toilet, neither the row of showers against the wall. You get that the MacManus were twins and all that but…they really did not seem to care for privacy. You really hoped that you didn’t have to pee while you were there, because you weren’t about to do it in front of them.

The place was small, and there wasn’t much there. On one side, there was a couple of mattresses on the floor, separated by a nightstand table in which you saw a couple of mugs and bottles of beer, a small table with some more empty bottles of beer and empty packages of pizza, and a couple of ashtrays full of smoked cigarettes, and some mismatched chairs around it. Against the wall, there was a tattered sofa that seemed about to die, a small tv on top of an even smaller table, and for some reason, the fridge was between the sofa and the tv, with a lamp on top of it…peculiar, but the whole place was…peculiar.

On the other side, there was a small, old stove, an older sink, and a small worktop which surface was almost covered by bottles of booze, some still full but most empty. If you had any doubt that the boys liked to drink, it was gone by now.

You didn’t want to seem rude or shallow, or judging, or anything like that, and so you stopped looking around like that. The brothers hadn’t seemed to notice, though, or to care, they walked in and took off their rosaries, hanging them on a couple of nails on the wall next to the door, and then Connor left the Chinese takeaway on the table.

“Ye hungry, love?” Murphy asked you and you nodded, since you had barely been able to eat your lunch as you wondered if the MacManus might forget that they had made plans with you, which now sounded silly, you shouldn’t have doubted them.

“Let’s eat,” Connor said as he began to take the food containers out of the bag, the smell making your mouth water already.

You stepped closer to the table to help him with it, and your eyes landed on an open notebook under a beer bottle, spotting some drawings and doodles on it, though before you could get a closer look, Murphy snapped it, almost making the bottle fall, and he closed the notebook and threw it to one of the mattresses.

You frowned, confused, but Connor snorted. “Murph likes to get all artistic sometimes,” he said, prompting Murphy into hitting his twin’s head as he snapped at him to shut up.

“You draw those?” You asked, looking towards the notebook on the bed before looking at Murphy, who to your surprised, seemed almost shy. For how cocky and smug he seemed to look more often than not, it was strange to see him looking almost embarrassed, and you didn’t like it. You hated that you had made him feel like that.

“Yeah, he drew our tattoos in that notebook of him,” Connor said, nodding.

“Told ye to shut up,” Murphy snapped again and this time Connor was quick to stop his hands before he could hit him.

“I think that’s really nice!” You rushed to say, and you meant it, you were impressed. “Seriously, it’s great!”

“Aye?” Murphy looked at you like he thought you didn’t mean it, or even like you were trying to make fun of him, and so you nodded eagerly, smiling. He still seemed a bit embarrassed, but he smiled at you. “Connor draws too, he tattoed all mine,” Murphy said, gesturing to his neck, and before you could say how impressive that was, Connor spoke.

“You did all mine better.” Connor shrugged, reaching to grab Murphy’s arm and frowning at the tattoed cross. “Parts of this look wonky.”

“I think it looks great!” You said, impressed. “Both his and your tattoos, it’s so impressive, seriously!”

“Aye?” Murphy asked you, his smile bigger now.

“Yes!” You nodded. “Seriously, you not only draw your tattoos but you tattoo them too?! It’s amazing! If I ever want a tattoo, I know who to ask!”

“Ye’d ask me?” Murphy asked with a smile that made you feel all funny and smile too, and you nodded.

“Sure, why not?” You shrugged, and Murphy gave you that pretty, bright smile, that made you consider if he might mind it if you kissed him again…

You barely noticed Connor as he began fumbling with the food containers again, focused as you were on Murphy and that damn smile, but when you finally looked at Connor, you noticed that he seemed amused at Murphy and you. You felt your cheeks heating up a bit, and you tried to kick your brain into working again, helping with the food.

You three decided to settle on the sofa for dinner instead of at the table, since Connor suggested that you could watch a movie, even if you weren’t sure that old thing would hold you three without falling into pieces, and so they dragged the tv in front of the sofa. Connor had a small stack of what seemed old action movies, and once again you had the final vote on what to watch, since the twins kept arguing about it, Murphy complaining that they’d seen the movie that Connor’d picked a million times already while Connor retorted that it was classic worth watching another million times.

You didn’t give it much thought, you didn’t care much and you didn’t want the food to go cold while the boys argued. Since you had sided with Connor on what to eat, this time you voted for Murphy’s choice of movie. He smiled smugly at his twin, but Connor didn’t complain much, since he liked that one too.

It was so much fun, to eat and watch the movie while the twins kept commenting on it, usually Connor saying details that you hadn’t cared to notice before, things that he liked, and Murphy just making fun of it until they both hit each other from time to time, but you knew they didn’t mean anything bad by it, so it was fun too…you didn’t know what was more entertaining, to watch the movie or to watch the MacManus…they had a way of moving in sync most of the time that was hypnotizing, even if it was just to bring food into their mouth, but when they began bickering they were so endearing and funny…you loved it.

At some point, though, once you three had finished your food, you started to find it hard to focus on the movie, as you felt Murphy’s fingers playing with your hair. You froze for a second before looking at Murphy, who was sat down between Connor and you. He smirked at you and you felt your cheeks heating up but a smile tugged at your lips too, it seemed that every time that Murphy smiled, you couldn’t help but smile too.

Murphy’s smirk went wider at that, and his fingers caressed your hair again before he casually placed his arm around your shoulders. It felt nice, to have him so close to you, almost kind of holding you, but you couldn’t stop your shyness and nerves. You tried to relax, though, you didn’t want Murphy to think that you were uncomfortable or that you wanted him to move away from you…not that there was much space left on the small, tattered sofa though.

“Ye both ain’t lookin’ at the screen, yer gonna miss the best part of the movie,” Connor complained, and you looked away from Murphy and to the tv, a bit embarrassed at being caught by Connor staring at his twin, but also part of you was kind of glad to escape Murphy’s intense glance, that made you feel shy while also making you feel twirls in your belly…

“The whole movie is the best part of the movie for ye,” Murphy scoffed, chuckling.

“It’s a damn good movie,” Connor said as he shoved his brother, pushing him closer to you…not that Murphy seemed to mind, and honestly, you didn’t either, even if it made you shy.

You still wondered what was Murphy’s deal, though, if he wanted just to mess around and have fun, kiss you sometimes, hold you while you watched tv it seemed too, and that was it, or if it meant something else, more. You still didn’t know how to bring it up, how to ask, you knew you should, so as not to obsess, thinking and wondering about it all the time, but the idea of asking him made you feel so awkward… You decided to just enjoy whatever it was, at least for that night.

Once the movie finished, and Connor’s monologue about it finished too, you three made your way to the pub. No sooner had you stepped inside, you excused yourself and rushed to the bathroom. You had been needing to go for a while now, but since there was no walls or anything hiding the toilet at the MacManus’ place, you had been waiting until you were at the pub, no matter neither of the twins had seemed to have any qualms about it while you were there.

Once you left the bathroom, you noticed that the brothers had sat down on one of the tables instead of at the bar counter, and you liked it more. They were sat down next to each other, and when you approached them, Murphy smiled at you, pushing a pint towards the seat in front of him, while Connor looked at you seeming amused.

“We ordered ye a pint, love, hope it’s okay? Murphy asked you.

“Yes, it’s perfect, thanks.” You nodded as you sat down, but you frowned at Connor, wondering why he seemed so amused, and he noticed it, smirking.

“So, lass…I was tellin’ to my brother that ye were too shy to take a piss at home and that’s why ye ran to the bathroom like that,” he said, and you almost groaned aloud, mortified and beyond embarrassed. Your cheeks burned and you almost hid your face on your hands. “See…told ye.”

Connor chuckled, looking at his brother, and you felt like hitting him in the head like Murphy sometimes did…they both seemed to enjoy embarrassing each other, and you hoped Connor, or even both, hadn’t decided to extend it to you too and try to embarrass you too.

“What…but lass, ye got nothin’ to be embarrassed about!” Murphy said, which just made you feel more embarrassed. “We all gotta piss!”

“Can we just…talk about anything else at all? Please?” You begged, feeling your face so hot that you wouldn’t be surprised if it caught fire.

The twins seemed to take pity on you, letting it go, and they began telling you about one day at work in which Murphy got himself locked inside the bathroom of the meatpacking factory. and Connor had to “throw the door open to rescue him, lass, we had to pay for it, ‘cause Murphy was an idiot,” he explained, earning a shove from Murphy.

“I ain’t an idiot, the lock was not openin’ no matter what, I promise, love,” Murphy insisted as if it was a matter of life or death.

“I believe you,” you assured him, laughing, and as the brothers began bickering again, you couldn’t help your grin looking at them, they were just so fun to be around, that soon you had forgotten your earlier embarrassment.

Unsurprisingly, the MacManus finished their drinks before you, and so Murphy went to the bar counter to order a couple more. The waitress was busy waiting tables, Murphy had been right when he told you that the pub was busier at the weekends, there was almost the double of people than you had seen before, and so the twins didn’t want to bother the waitress.

You looked at Murphy as he waited for Doc to get him the drinks, getting lost in thought again. You had tried to, but you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to what Murphy thought of you, of this thing that seemed to be going between you and him, whatever it was…

You heard Connor chuckling and when you looked at him you felt your cheeks heating up at his amused smirk.

“Do I wanna know what are ye thinkin�� lookin’ at my brother like that…or don’t I?” He teased you, arching an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you murmured, looking down, and judging by Connor’s chuckle, he didn’t believe you.

“He’s been all corny and givin’ ye the heart eyes since St. Patrick’s too, it’s made it easier to mess with him, gotta thank ye for that,” Connor chuckled again.

You felt as if your heart had done a summersault while butterflies decided to flutter in your belly…Murphy gave you the heart eyes? Really? Connor knew his twin, so it must be true, right? Unless Connor was just messing with you…it didn’t seem like so, though.

Connor looked at his brother, who was coming back with their drinks. “Don’t go breakin’ my brother’s heart, though, lass.” His voice let you know that he was joking, but anyway, you didn’t plan on doing that, you were more concerned about the opposite…still, the sight of Murphy’s grin as he sat down in front of you, had you smiling like an idiot again, despite the mess of feelings in your heart and the mess of thoughts in your head, despite any concern about what was going on between you and him.

Well, we got kisses.

If you liked this, reblogs and comments are more than welcome, thanks.

As always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

Murphy MacManus taglist, let me know if you want to be (un)tagged:

@pancakefancake @mychemicalimagines @lilythemadqueen @theteaset @hells-mistress @coffeebooksandfandom @phoenixblack89 @soraitmnt @sourwolf-sterek32 @hopplessdreamer

@huffledor-able541 @browneyes528 @princessxpunk @easypeasyweasleywheezes

@bitchynicole

@crustyrose @dazzledamazon @pittbull-enthusiast @elodieyung @leej2468 @angelofthorr @pulplorrd @collecting-stories @sapphire-angel

#murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus/reader #murphy macmanus fanfiction #murphy macmanus imagine #murphy macmanus & reader #murphy macmanus fanfic #murphy macmanus fic #the boondock saints fanfiction #the boondock saints imagine #murphy macmanusxreader

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legionofpotatoes · 3 years ago

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I love your art, it is very detailed in a neat way. Was wondering how you got started making it as a source of income? How did you get your first paid work, I'd love some advice on how to get started, if that's ok

Thank you. Of course it's okay, although I doubt I have enough work experience in art to really delve into this. I only went full freelance this year, and had been juggling art as a side hobby until then. If you're still interested in my somewhat narrow perspective, and are okay with my long-winded rambles, I'll give it a shot:

So to answer your question fully, I'll describe how I started and move into personal advice and learnings later on. As a disclaimer, I am a white cishet dude in my late twenties with a moderate cocktail of mental illnesses, but overall I can pass for a functioning adult so a lot I have to say may come laced with privilege I cannot fully identify.

So uhh I began drawing in around 2012? I think? Maybe halfway through 2011? And I mostly made fanart for things I enjoyed and tried to branch out in communities that felt nourishing to my style and interests (I caught a bug for alt posters and enjoyed mainstream movies so I spent a long time on posterspy early on). There were a handful of opportunities that came from there but I could only accept a couple because of primary workplace commitments. Still, it showed that networking in a focused community was definitely a good place to start; I myself have huge trouble committing to social networks and really staying socially active, but I knew it was an essential ingredient in succeeding so I tried to make myself be involved in challenges and art support trains etc. as much as I could.

In parallel to all that I also ran a few third party online stores (redbubble, teepublic) for disposable income and would sometimes, if rarely, hit around $100-150 a month from those sources combined. It is a sort of thing that requires helper accounts on other social media sites to promote it on, because the stores themselves have a huge volume of content that translates into low organic discoverability. Obviously it was never gonna be the way towards financial independence through art, and with community projects being few and far between, I opened private commissions in around uhhh 2017 I think, focusing on offering a few styles I knew I could do well, and sometimes operating in individual fandoms (it was mostly a bioware thing to be frank). But I had to close them back down after a year or so, again because of work-life conflict and how badly it was burning me out. The reason I kept trying to monetize this hobby is because I honestly hated what I did for my main job and wanted to see a way out in some shape or form in the future.

And then in 2020 I had to quit my main job altogether because of *gestures at pandemic* and deal with a mental breakdown from all the wonderful things it did to us and me specifically. I took a short break and decided to give art a shot full-time, and that was around May this year. I was planning on opening up commissions again (and I still am), but a few sudden opportunities that fell in my lap moved that timetable down and now I'm grateful to even be doing something I am getting adequately paid for.

So, with that somewhat limited perspective, here's what I've learned that I'd tell myself if I was just starting out:

1. Being a fan of something can be a shortcut towards effective networking kickoffs. Which are important evidently. If you love something and enjoy making content for it, join communities, settle into a combination of social media websites that feel right for those interests + your body of work + your inner rhythm, and try to play to content discovery as much as your mental health allows you to. Like I said, I know that I myself am incredibly bad at self-motivating to talk to people, so I found that synergizing common interests into fanart - which I enjoyed making anyway - could be a way to give myself a gentle nudge forward and build those bridges leading to community activities, which then net experience and coverage. Sometimes even freelance projects from official avenues. Again; picking the right spaces for what you're after is key. Companies roam twitter, concept art recruiters scour artstation or linkedin etc, instagram can land you private commissions and collab opportunities, so on and so forth. Find your niche and try to kick up dust. However...

2. I do not believe that any social profile can replace a good portfolio. The thing that made an immediate difference to me this year was building a coherent, simple website with my best work front and center and a contact form on top. Every single opportunity I got came from that form (maybe via twitter or instagram initially, but always sealing the decision after going through the website), so I firmly believe that showcasing your skills and portfolio in a visually arresting and user-friendly way is a big priority. I had some reservations about tackling that task but fortunately I had help from a savvy life partner and we slapped it together via wordpress in less than a day. Twitter/whatever social media is prevalent in your target groups is definitely important to get the right eyes on your shit, yes, but those eyes will then look for a second stop where your work and rates are more clear and concise. Simplicity is key imo, I cannot overstate this. So make a cute, simple portfolio!

3. Your skills and rates will grow and change as you do. Let them. Over the years I built several lasting professional relationships from my obsession over mass effect and kept getting opportunities both from bioware and their partner companies, some small and some a bit bigger. A one-off job earlier this year opened an unexpected door to another much larger commitment, and then the work I did there brought some attention from small businesses looking for commercial commissions. These were all incredibly different projects in terms of scope and budget, and I've been tackling them all on a case-by-case basis and slowly coming into my own irt my needs, rates, and SOW thresholds. It is still a work in progress (and a LOT of literal work as well), and very much a thing I struggle with in publicly marketing, which is why I felt a tad underqualified to answer your question in the first place (obviously I did not let that stop me). But what it means for me now is that I am rapidly developing into whatever my "version" of a functioning freelance artist is, and when the conditions for that guy are met, I need to be able to confidently plant myself and operate from that space despite past precedents. Do not let anyone bully you into downpricing what you yourself perceive as legitimate products of personal growth and development. Speaking of which...

4. The shitty challenge of turning envy into inspiration, and paddling outside your comfort zones in full riot gear. it is hard, but realizing that being a miserable, self-hating artist in my early days got me nothing but more misery back was the first real step I took and what truly blew the hinges off. I was just not pleasant to be around, I would badmouth my work all the time, and it all somehow made sense in my broken mind because the validation I sought was purely external and the way I sought it was through eliciting sympathy via self-victimization (even when I made something objectively nice). It all led fucking nowhere. Except perhaps to my own narcissism that I one day managed to identify and start managing. So I started looking at things that made me seethe with envy and calmly deconstruct and figure out their inner workings instead, do studies, and find nuggets of inspiration or discover new ways to approach rendering or building up specific elements. It was an application of analytical diligence to what I wanted to be a purely emotional, esoteric workflow, but that I deep down knew wasn't. Art is a discipline and a skill, and maybe it isn't a straight line, but you gotta find some line to thread nevertheless. Being self-hating was almost an identity I had to break out of, and despite it still being like, 4-5% there? I realize its cause and effect on me, my work, and those around me, so it is with a conscious choice that I gently set it aside when I work and especially when I learn. It won't always stay quiet, but the effort is the difference. Your doors towards accepting true growth and venturing into uncharted territories, art styles, and networking will really open from there. But there's a huge caveat...

5. Toolsets, accessibility, privilege, and all the good things that enable artistic expression and profitability are not given equal to all. you might do all the mental work I mentioned to be ready to rock and roll and learn and draw your way out of anything, but digital art is a fucking money pit that asks almost too much at times. I don't got a good case study here but identifying and ensuring accessibility to the tools you need to do your best work is, like, super important. The ergonomics can improve as you make money and settle into the job, but the basics have to be made available to you. And some of that might not even be under your direct control. That can be anything from pen tablets to software subscriptions to opportunities in hiring sullied by sexism or what have you. You gotta navigate all that through careful networking and money/time management. I don't do a good job of devoting specific slices of time to work/study, and my primary clutch is iPad software which went from a good deal to a nightmare scenario over the years. So all I can say here is do what I didn't; network, invest in a PC/tablet, and pick a software you'll learn that won't burn a hole in your pocket.

6. Be nice to work with? This one is hard to articulate and has landed my own ass in hot water in my early years because of how socially inept I am, but nothing is more worthwhile than being.. like. a good person to work with. That can be anything like meeting deadlines, or sometimes missing them but eloquently articulating why, being generous in early stages, being communicable and not too wordy in your emails, having a good grasp on abstract artistic concepts and how to describe them in simple terms, having a clear, laid out framework of your working rates in commercial and non-commercial projects and sticking to those guns with grace, understanding when you need to say no and saying it well, the works. Just being nice. Sometimes that might mean going headstrong with something you believe in, or simmering down and sucking up to the big man, all relative and adaptive. Part and parcel of the service provision dance that we all have to do in order to make bank. Know your lines here, obviously, and don't like. work for nazis. or uh.. *shudders* exposure. but be nice and empathetic and communicable and word will travel eventually. Skill may be in abundance these days, but good people are most certainly not, and capitalism has a way of bubbling up scarcity. Grim, but uh, them's the breaks.

I know I'm ultimately telling you to like. Have a body of work, make a portfolio, grow, and network. But that's really how I see it for now. And being nice can be a cherry on top that sets you apart, along with the inherent irreplaceable voice of your artwork. I think I rambled on enough, but if there is something specific you need my help with, even if you want to come off anon and talk in private, please feel free.

#anon #asks #long post #sorry I cant actually condense ideas better :(

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staticscreenwriting · 4 years ago

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Skin deep - Chapter One || B.H.

Synopsis: Billy survived the battle of Starcourt but is left with a body full of scars. Scars that remind him of the pain he had to go trough and the horrible person he has become. In order to forget about all of that and move on, he wants to get them covered up. Good thing Hawkins has a brand new Tattoo studio and the girl who works there might just be the help Billy has been looking for.

A/N: I needed a TattooArtist!Reader x Billy story so I wrote one and you know me, I can’t keep it short and simple. There will be several parts to this. Don’t ask me about an updating schedule because I don’t have one. I try my best to be consistent but I make no promises. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Billy’s palms are clammy as he steps out of his car. His eyes wander towards the sign hanging above the door, welcoming him to “Little Bear Tattoos” as an American traditional bear face grins back at him.

This isn’t his first time getting a tattoo, by all means, he shouldn’t be as nervous as he is. But things are different now. Everything is different. Things change after you almost die because you sacrificed yourself to an otherworldly creature to save a little girl.

He had just turned 18 when he got that stupid little skull inked onto his arm. That’s now just a little over a year ago but it seems like a lifetime has passed since then. Sometimes, Billy thinks, sometimes It feels like that was another person altogether. That dumb little boy who thought he knew shit. The one that paraded his tattoo around like a complete and utter douchebag. He thought it made him look rough and cool and dangerous.

In retrospect, it just made it more obvious that he didn’t know shit about anything. Not life. Not death. And most definitely not about what it means to look rough and cool and dangerous. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to that moment and just relish in ignorant bliss. Most of the time he tries not to think of the past though because thinking of the past means thinking of all the things lost that night in July. Most of all himself.

Back then, getting a tattoo was easy. Now, it feels like the entire world is resting on his shoulders. It feels like he can barely keep it all from crashing down on him.

The bell above the door chimes as he steps inside the tattoo parlor. It’s a relatively small shop but it looks clean and the walls are covered in framed drawings of very intricate designs. If those have been drawn by this place’s artist, he’s in good hands.

A fluffy little brown dog is lazily resting on a pillow by the shop window and only raises his head as the sound of footsteps approaching fills the room.

“ Hi, welcome to little bear. “ a cheery voice calls out to him as a girl steps out from behind a curtain leading to some backroom. She has a big radiant smile on her face though it exudes a certain warmth that only genuine smiles do.

“ Hi uh — I was wondering if you have a free spot. “

“ Hmm… that depends. What are you wanting to get? “

To be quite honest, he hadn’t really thought much about it. All he wanted was something to cover up the ugly scars still streaking most of his body. When before, he felt a certain kind of pride whenever he passed a mirror, now it sends a sharp pain straight to his heart. Everything about him, from the perpetually tired look in his eyes to the scars, it’s al a reminder of the bad things he’s done. And the worst part is that he can never talk to anyone about it. Ever. No one will understand but the people who’ve been there, and though he and Max are getting along much better now, he still doesn’t fancy having long profound conversations with her about his demons.

“ I uh — I’m not sure but it needs to cover something.”

“ Old tattoo? “

Billy swallows audibly “scars.”

He’s not sure what reaction he’s expected from her but a casual “Okay, we can figure something out. “ is not it. Though he avoids wearing short sleeves these days, whenever someone manages to catch a glimpse of his damaged skin he got 1 of two reactions. Either people started regarding him with pity or disgust and he honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. At least those disgusted by him left him well enough alone and didn’t hold a million questions they expected him to answer in great detail.

“ Let’s sit down and we can talk about some things you like and see how we can incorporate those into a tattoo. Also, I would have to take a look at the area you want me to tattoo and see how bad the scarring is just so I can take that into consideration when designing the piece. Scar tissue is harder to tattoo but don’t worry, I promise I can do it. “

“ You’re gonna be tattooing me? “

It seems like a dumb question but honestly, Billy hasn’t met or seen that many female tattoo artists in his life and this girl seems to be about his age. That’s not something you see every day.

“ Yup. I’m (Y/N), this is my shop. Now, do you want something to drink while we discuss the piece? I got all kinds of sodas, I got water and I got non-alcoholic beer.

“ Dr. Pepper? “

“ Good choice. Coming right up. “

She walks behind the counter with the cash register and reaches into a small fridge taking out two cans of Dr. Pepper before leading him towards a little seating area by the window.

The fluffy little dog lifts his head once again regarding the two of them with only mild interest before plopping back down.

“ Oh, you okay with dogs? I can take him to another room if you’re uncomfortable. “

Billy shakes his head. Nah, he loves dogs. Always wanted one but Neil, being the miserable bastard he is, never allowed the kids to have any pets. Too much work, too much responsibility. What an asshole.

Though Billy is never going to admit it, the bedside drawer, that was once filled with issues of Penthouse magazine, now holds a bunch of self-help books and magazines dealing with topics of PTSD and trauma. A lot of them mention getting a support animal whether that be a specially trained dog or just a hamster to keep you company. It makes sense, it gives you someone who listens to you vent about all your problems and insecurities. If only his dad cared enough about his mental state to reconsider his stance on pets. Then again, when has Neil ever cared about him?

“Nah, it’s fine don’t worry. He’s cute.”

“Thanks. His name is Bear and he’s kind of the mascot of this store.”

There’s a twinkle of pride in her eyes while she talks about the shop and her dog. Something Billy is infinitely envious of. Everything he’s ever felt any hint of pride in is gone. His car. His looks. All of it.

“Okay so tell me a little about yourself. Is there anything you can think of that you’d like to get inked? Any interests, hobbies? Maybe you wanna tell me a little about yourself.”

Back before, when things were different, Billy would’ve packed as much ego enlarging words and compliments into it as possible. Would’ve mentioned his car and his most satisfactory performance skills in the bedroom. But now, he hardly knows who he is these days.

“ Um … my name is Billy. I’m 19, I’m from California. ‘Bout two years ago my dad packed us all up and had us move out here to the end of the world. Then … things happened.”

“You miss California?”

“Every day. The thought of going back one day is the only thing that keeps me fucking going. I miss the ocean. I miss surfing. I miss home. I miss all of it.”

She looks at him intensely for a moment, sizing him up, contemplating her next words. He can almost see the creative gears running in her head.

“Alright. I might have an idea. I’d have to see the area first though.”

He expects pity in her voice though there is none. Her words are comforting and warm and calm. Billy wonders how often she has to deal with clients like him. Those who come to her with painful and ugly reminders of their past.

His hands are shaking as he pulls off his denim jacket and reveals his left arm to her. The skin is streaked with scars. They’re the same paths that used to wind up and down his arm in inky black hues like poisonous vines. Now they’re a faded pink but that doesn’t mean he hates them any less.

Billy can feel his heart beating in a fast rhythm as anxiety floods his system. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe -

“Okay how big would you want to go,” (Y/N) asks, her voice gentle and soothing and her eyes switching from his arm to his eyes. She doesn’t ask him what happened and that’s a relief.

“As big as you can. I know you can’t make it disappear but I’d like as much of it covered as possible.”

“ I won’t be able to do an entire sleeve today but if that’s something you want we can start with a bigger piece on your upper arm today and then work our way to a full sleeve in the future?”

“Sounds good. I just want the scars gone. I need them covered.”

“Well my guy, you’ve come to the right place. It’s my specialty. You’re in luck too, I’m free all day so depending on your pain tolerance and the trauma of your skin, we might even be able to finish the first piece today.”

Pain tolerance, he wants to scoff at that. What he’s been through, the pain and the anguish and the emotional trauma, nothing will ever compare to that. Not even close. He’d get a 100 tattoos all at once and it still wouldn’t measure up.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Cool awesome! Imma go over to the drawing board and you can feel free to keep yourself entertained in the meantime. We have an arcade machine in the back. There’s records in the corner if you want to listen to some music. I’ll even let you choose.”

“Is that an honor?” Billy asks, a small smirk on his face. Every once in awhile a flicker of the person he used to be shines through. But then it’s gone and he’s left as this shadow of his former self.

“Oh you have no idea.”

As (Y/N) settles behind a big wooden table and starts scribbling away, Billy wanders over towards the corner of the studio. A bright red record player is resting on a sideboard surrounded by several boxes filled with vinyl records. They’re sorted by band name then chronologically. There’s all kinds of genres too. AC/DC and Judas Priest but also Stuff like The Mamas and the Papas and the Monkees.

“Anything, in particular, you wanna listen to? Kinda hard to make out your taste with this selection. There’s … everything.” Billy calls out to her, leaving through the records.

“What can I say? I like a bit of everything. Don’t like to limit myself.”

Old Billy would’ve raised his eyebrow and asked her if that extends to her love life as well. But old Billy is gone and so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I know it seems like just your kinda music, but maybe stay away from the hard rock. Maybe something a bit more mellow.”

He hasn’t really listened to a lot of music since … well since everything. He mostly sleeps or reads and sometimes when it’s a good day he even attempts to do a bit of writing. It’s nothing spectacular but it’s - something. An outlet really. The stories vary from an autobiographical retelling of the incident to silly tales of young boys going on space adventures. It's a way to get lost in the save parts of his mind. The ones that can create make-believe worlds and happy thoughts. Not the ones tainted with gruesome images of the past.

The opening notes the Monday Morning by Fleetwood Mac fill the air and Billy doesn’t miss the smile tugging on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips.

“Nice. Didn’t really think you were a Fleetwood Mac fan.”

Billy shrugs his shoulders casually “they’re a classic.”

He sits back down in the seat by the window, watches as the clouds pass the sky and the people go about their day. That’s until a furry little ball of fluff settles down in his lap and demands to be cuddled.

“Oh hey, you.”

“Sorry about that. Bear does not understand the concept of personal boundaries. He thinks everyone is only here to pet him. If he bothers you just set him down.”

But he doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, combing his fingers through the curly brown fur fills Billy with a sense of calm and it grounds him a little. He really needs to adopt a dog for himself.

“It’s fine. No bother.”

Time passes with Billy cuddling the dog and ever so often glancing over at (Y/N) while she’s working on the sketch. She’s drawing then erasing then redrawing. Copying then throwing it away then doing it all again. All the while she’s dancing along to the music. There’s a lightness about her that Billy wishes he could possess. Even before the Stacourt situation, he never had this unbothered lightness about him. That’s just not the person you turn into when you grow up in a house with Neil Hargrove.

A light drizzle falls outside and Stevie Nicks sings along to it and life feels … almost peaceful right then. Billy lives for these small moments of normality. These glimmers of what life used to be.

“Okay, I’m ready. Wanna have a look?”

There’s a bright smile on her face as she looks at him and waves the sketch around. “I think I nailed this one. I hope you’ll like it.“

Billy can see that she actually means it. It's not just a silly phrase she’s tagged onto her sentence. She’s genuinely nervous for him to see it.

Bear follows Billy as he walks toward the counter, a smiley (Y/N) watching their every move. There’s something about how passionate she is about her work that makes Billy both happy and sad. There used to be things in life that he was passionate about. His car. His clothes. The music he loved. Now it’s all dull and trivial and he’s lost. So damn lost.

His eyes wander towards the sheet of paper. Delicate black lines run across the page, swirling and arching and creating a beautiful composition. It’s a lighthouse. A tall and sturdy one. It shines it’s light out into the distance to guide the ships safely around the sharp edges of the cliffs. It’s a beacon of safety and hope surrounded by the rough sea and crashing waves.

“I thought it was a nice symbol, you know. Light in the dark. Guiding ships to safety.” (Y/N) explains. She’s biting her lip nervously and Billy thinks it’s insanely adorable. This piece is perfect, to think she’s uncertain and nervous about his reaction …

“I tried to incorporate the ocean and the crashing waves. You know, as a reminder of your life in California.”

Billy is speechless for a moment. Everything he wanted. All the ideas swirling around in his head. She put it down on paper, made them visible. And he didn’t even have to voice them. They were all just mushy gray clouds in his head, non forming a coherent picture. Just a feeling. A feeling of peace and belonging. Of being strong when everything around you tries to push you down to your knees.

“Do you like it? I can change it if you —“

“I love it!”

Her mood immediately changes after hearing those words. As if a switch is suddenly flipped and sunshine floods her face. Her eyes light up and her smile widens.

“Okay perfect! Wanna get started?”

“Sure, let’s do it!”

The black leather chair is soft underneath him as (Y/N) puts the stencil onto his skin. She has a soft gentle touch which only matches the tone of her voice. Very calming. A complete opposite to the rest of Billy’s life.

“Okay, so it’s not gonna be pleasant since I have to tattoo over scar tissue. If you wanna tap out or take a break just let me know.”

He’s fairly sure that whatever pain he’ll have to endure, it will be nothing compared to what he’s already been through. Pain has a completely different meaning to him now.

“I’ll be fine.”

And he means it. Not just about the tattoo, about everything. It feels like this is the first step into a new life. One that won’t be determined by his past mistakes. By the trauma.

The buzzing sound of the tattoo gun fills the air and (Y/N) starts pulling the first few lines. Short strokes. As if to test his pain tolerance. Her eyes wander up to meet his, a silent question shining through them.

He grants her a nod. One of pure determination. One that says, without question: “I’ll be fine!”

For a while, they sit in comfortable silence. There’s just the humming of the machine and the raspy voice of Stevie Nicks to lull them into a soft tranquility.

“ I’m not gonna ask about the scars but can I ask about the skull on the other arm?”

Billy lets out a mix between a laugh and a scoff. “Sins of my youth really.”

“ Oh geez, that makes you sound so old. You’re what, 19?”

“ Almost 20.”

“ See. You’re still in the prime of your youth!”

Billy shrugs his shoulder as she dips the tattoo gun back into the ink. Truthfully, it doesn’t feel like he’s in the middle of his youth. He feels so damn tired. He never got to be a kid. Never got to be a teen. Always wandering in between it all, lost and disillusioned with no one there to guide or help him.

“ How old are you?”

“ Just turned 20 a few days ago.”

“And you already have your own shop. That’s impressive.”

“Yeah well, it’s all I ever wanted to be. Worked my ass off. Spent all my free time at my cousin's tattoo studio up in Carmel. He taught me everything I know. Worked after school and on the weekends and then when I graduated my cousin gave me a little loan and I had enough to open the shop. He believed in me when no one else did and it means everything to me. Hope I make him proud. I just always felt like this is what I'm meant to be. An artist. And this way my art gets immortalized on people’s skin and in some cases it can help them overcome difficult times in their lives. I hope I can make even the smallest change in people’s lives. “

It doesn’t get lost on him, that she doesn’t mention her parents. Something must be up there but it sure as hell isn’t his place to ask about it. Families, he knows quite well, can be a touchy subject.

“Well, you’re definitely making a change in mine.”

“Yeah?”

She looks almost bashful as the question tumble from her lips.

“Yup. I … I need to make those scars disappear. They — they remind me of the worst time in my life and of a version of myself I never want to be again. Having you cover them for me with this art piece that’s so fucking cool, it means everything.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You should be proud of yourself.”

There’s a connection there, one he can neither grasp nor explain. It’s like she understands parts of him he doesn’t even put on display. And it’s both scary and exciting. And maybe, he understands parts of her she’s not aware she’s putting on display either.

“Okay. I’m done!”

There’s an infinite sense of pride exuding from her words. Billy wishes there was something in his life that he was good at. Something to let him be proud of himself.

“Wanna take a look?” (Y/N) asks with the most radiant smile playing on her face.

“Absolutely!”

His legs are stiff from sitting in the chair for so long but he can’t wait to see the finished piece. Slowly he walks towards the full-length mirror, (Y/N) hot on his heels.

His eyes fall onto the artwork now permanently inked into his skin. There are vibrant shades of blue and dark black lines. The sea is alive, it’s unforgiving and rough. But there’s the light from the lighthouse, the hope, the safety. It’s all there’s and it’s beautiful. Where there used to be ugly pink scars thick and burning, there’s now a beautiful painting. The scars are gone. The pain is gone. All that’s left is beauty and hope.

He doesn’t realize that tears are running down his cheek until she hands him a tissue. His first reaction is to wipe them away and pretend they weren’t there in the first place. A Hargrove man isn’t allowed to cry. Not in front of people anyway. Especially not in front of women. Hargrove men are bitter and numb. They’re stoic. Silent. Angry. Above all they’re sad.

But isn’t that the person he wants to leave behind?

So he lets himself feel it. Lets the tears fall as if it were nothing.

Maybe this can be the next step into becoming the person he wishes so desperately he can be.

“I take it you like it?”

“I love it.”

And he hugs her. Pulls her close and tight as if he’s known her forever. She reciprocates the hug in no time. Softly oats him on the shoulder.

She smells like flowery perfume and clean cotton. Soft. Sweet. Intoxicating

“I can not thank you enough.”

“Billy, trust me this means as much to me as it does to you.”

He doesn’t disagree with her but he’s sure that’s not true. It means everything to him.

They talk for a little longer then he pays her, way too little if you ask him. She deserves way more and he suspects that some kind of personal sympathy plays into the price. But he’s not one to argue. Not when he’s sure he’ll come back. There are more scars. More pain. He’s not fixed but he’s at least a work in progress now.

She takes a few Polaroids of his tattoo, to put on her wall. To show people she can cover scars. Can help them. Help fix them. Make them feel less broken.

“They’re burn scars.”

Billy finds himself sharing a piece of his story. One he’s kept so close to him, sometimes he almost wondered if it was true. But it is. And there are more reminders all over his body. It feels right to share it though. She helped him cover part of it, without judging. Without questions. She deserves to know.

“Huh?”

“My scars. They are burn scars. Not — not from the outside but from the inside. Like fire going through my veins. I uh don’t know how to explain but that’s what they are. You can tell that to your clients. That you covered burn scars. That you’re that talented. “

For a moment she just stares at him, a deep sense of affection shining from her eyes. It’s comforting and nerve-wracking all at once. But he lets himself feel it. He promises himself to let himself feel the good things even if they seem scary.

“That’s … hey, would you like to grab some dinner with me? I could really go for a burger at the diner round here. It’s real good. “

And with the way she smiles, how the hell is he supposed to say no to that.

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way!”

The sun hangs low above the horizon almost dips behind the line to vanish and make room for the moon but not quite yet. They step out into the dawn, Bear pattering alongside them his leash grabbed tightly in (Y/N) hand.

As hues of red and pink and orange surround them and dip the world into a golden haze, Billy feels like maybe this is the way. Maybe this is his path leading into a new future. With less pain. Fewer scars. More color and more smiles.

And maybe a beautiful and talented girl and a little dog by his side.

#billy hargrove x reader #Billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

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nitannichionne · 4 years ago

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If He Was YOUR Fan Chapter 25: Fall (A Henry Cavill Fan Fic)

“You know, you’re better than I thought!” Henry laughs, blocking a saber strike. His surprise last week was perfect. He bought you dueling lightsabers. You begin to wonder what else he picked up in your posts. You had always wanted a custom one and he got it for you, complete with robe. You spent the afternoon playing around last weekend and this weekend, though you are far more serious than he is, but that is the fun in it for you.

“I’m surprised I’m doing this well!” You pant. With Henry’s reach, it was hard to get into his defenses. “Lightsaber dueling—” you twirl and block. “Was what I could afford!”

He gives a wink and begins an almost exhausting exchange with you. You try to pay attention. Now you wish you took yours home to practice during the week, but you decided not to. You have to concentrate, but when he winks and blows kisses while dueling, it’s infuriating!

“You—” he blocks you, his strength holding your saber down. “you want to learn more?” He licks his lips suggestively. “You seem a little distracted.”

“Of course!” you look at him, struggling to get the saber up. “That and more!”

“Like what?”

“Archery, staff fighting-this? Who doesn’t?”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Money accesses education and opportunity,” you tell him as go through a fast and furious exchange. You go back to old training, watching his foot work and his shoulder movement, but not watching his eyes as much. You push his sword and as you figured he would block and push back but you allow his sword gain momentum and follow through his arc, giving you time to move. As he does you turn and he blocks you up high, but just barely.

“Whoa, okay, you’re fast.”

“I need to be,” you huff. “You’re bigger and have stronger strokes.”

He smiles deviously, his look telling you he took that completely different, and you have to tamp down your feelings of attraction to finish this duel.

You shake your head at him. “Bring it, Jersey boy.”

He takes off his robe and you suppress a small gasp at the spark in his eyes. “Oh, I’ll bring it.” He goes on the attack. “Don’t bring it here,” he says, coming at you viciously, even blocking you as he did a turn. “Bring it to bed.”

“You bring it!” You say, seeing your chance. You duel furiously and just as he is about to deal a death blow, you duck and trip him as he goes backward. He lands with a thud, and you smile, both catching your breaths.

“That was dirty.”

“That’s fighting,” you pant. “AH!”

He pulls you down hard on him, and much to your shock, he begins to tickle you.

“Stop!” you shriek in laughter. “Aaaaah!”

He laughs so hard, his face reddens with shortness of breath as he keeps a hold on you with those strong arms of his despite your best efforts. “God you are a squirrely thing!”

“Come on!” you can barely breathe.

“Gimme a kiss.,” he breathes. “Come on.” He slows his tickling. “No? Okay, alright—”

You plant your lips on his and he laughs softy as you began giving him little butterfly kisses all over his face. You lip lock him again, but this time you bite his lower lip.

“Mmmh,” he moans soflty, turning you on your back. He aligns his hips with yours, and you lean up to lick his cheek.

He raises his eyebrow. “Did you just….Lion King me?”

“Do you feel like a king, Henry?”

“King Henry,” he says thoughtfully, a sparkle of humor in his eyes. “that does sound about right.” He kisses you deeply, and your tongues mate teasingly.

Suddenly your watch goes off. “Oh, come on, we gotta get moving!”

“What?” he asks. “What is it this weekend?” he asks.

“Just come on we’re making pizza!”

“What?”

You both go inside, and wash your hands. “We are making stuffed pizza! I found a really good recipe online. You make the crust, I’ll deal with the ingredients, okay?”

He smiles. “The ultimate cheat.” He looks at you. “Does that mean you brought—” he looks in the freezer. “oh, dear God, ice cream!”

You laugh at his boyish smile as he pulls out the carton. You smack his hand. “Back, Henry!”

“Aw, come on, a spoonful?”

“That stuff is dangerous,” you shake your head. “You’ll be having dessert before dinner If you’re not careful.”

“Aww…” he puts his arms around your waist. “one?”

“No, Henry.”

“How about you give me a bite? You give me the spoonful.”

You get a spoon and go to the freezer. You take a heaping spoon of ice cream and he grabs your wrist. His tongue lashes out and almost cleans it off “Henry!” He does it again slowly, this time winking as he does it. “You are so wicked.”

“Hey, deviously creative,” he corrects softly, taking the spoon from your hand. “Oh, no.”

“What?”

“There’s ice cream on your arm.”

“No, there isn’t—” your breath hitches as he smears some on your inner wrist. You both know that is an erogenous zone for you. “Henry, you are so not being fair, here.”

He licks your wrist, not losing eye contact with you, then winks as he bites gently and sucks the same skin. You lean into him, swaying as the feeling snakes up your arm and down to the pit of your stomach. “I think I just started preparing dessert, love.”

You swallow hard, but then nuzzle his neck. “Pizza first, baby.”

He kisses your nose. “Crust, coming up.”

A little over an hour later, the pizza is done.

“Now, really, what’s going on?” Henry asks.

“Well, in the US, it’s Sweetest Day,” you say softly. “I just wanted to show you a little appreciation that’s all.”

He takes your hand and says, “Uh, sweetheart, you are always thoughtful.”

“Thank you, I try.” You look at him longingly. Day by day, take it day by day, you tell yourself. You are falling for him, and you know it. Just remember: Whatever you do to get him, is what you do to keep him… “I like cooking with you.”

He smiles and laughs, “I had fun too.” He clears his throat. “I got you something.”

“What?”

“It’s silly,” he shrugs shyly.

“What?”

“It’s…small.” He says softly.

“It’s a sweetheart ring?” you say softly.

“You like it?” he asks.

“Of course,” you smile. “Thank you.” You lean over and kiss him.

After eating by candlelight outside in the backyard, you take the pizza, candles and ice cream and head inside.

“You are spoiling me,” he says softly as you give him a back rub sometime later by the fire.

“Okay,” You giggle, but you keep on going. You want to. “Any parts I should pay special attention to?” As soon as you say it, you laugh, and he with you. You do long smooth strokes over his body, and remove his boxer briefs in the process.

“Mmmh, you have something in mind, don’t you?” he asks.

“Not really,” you sigh. You are enjoying his sighs and soft moans, the sight and strength of his muscled back, the scent of him…something you can pick up on clothes he wore, the hoodies you took home during the week and only wore there because if you admit it to yourself, you’d rather sleep by his side every night.

“It’s Sweetest Day someplace, darling,” he moans softly as you work a kink out of his lower back. “I’d like to know.”

You sigh. He wants to make the day special for you? It is special enough already. He is attentive, protective, loyal, sweet, passionate and so damn hot in addition to treating you like you are, too. And this ring-it means something. Men who lack depth of feeling or confidence get earrings or bracelets. He said sweetheart, and honestly it’s enough. “I like my sweetheart ring.”

“Nothing, then?” he laughs. “you come up with massages, dinner menus, and God knows what else for me.”

“I don’t know,” you chuckle softly. “Lightsaber dueling was a big high for me.”

“Ah, I know!” he smiled broadly. “Your eyes lit up like Christmas, even when I bested you, you just waited for more pointers and kept going.”

“I don’t know a lot of people who can duel, Henry,” you say softly. The fact that he was alright with it meant the world, another way you can be a geek, be yourself. “Bit of an honor to—"

“I know.”

“What?”

“Lie down.”

You blink at him, smiling, “Why?”

“Please?”

You lie down.

“Close your eyes.”

You do it, but now you’re really wondering what is next.

“I’m going to use your MP3, if you don’t mind.”

You shrug, and smile, having a really hard time keeping your eyes closed, even as he undresses you. He puts on your MP3 player on his speakers.

youtube

Song played is “Seduces Me” by Celine Dion

And then…you feel his hands. HIs fingers start at the forehead, gently pressing and stroking your face. You feel his hands massage your temples, slowly tenderly. His fingertips stroke your face like a sculptor refining details of a creation. You breathe deeply. When was the last time someone did this for you? You couldn’t remember. He finishes your countenance with a kiss on your forehead, on your eyes, your nose and finally your mouth, making a lump form in your throat.

His hands sweep down to your neck and shoulders, which is a problem area you both share. Again, his artistic hands are gently feeling and then relaxing your muscles. His attention to detail was something you had seen directed on his performances, his figure painting, but not like this. His hands are strong but do not hurt as he glides over you, and you swallow hard.

He pulls you up and guides you onto his lap, your legs straddling his him. He strokes your back, his hands once again gliding over your muscles as he plants kisses on your neck and shoulder, causing you put your chin on his shoulder and draw a shaky breath, overcome with emotion.

“Sweetheart?”

“I-I’m okay.”

He pulls you back so he can see, and you are embarrassed that you are getting teary-eyed. He gives a small but tender smile as he touches your face, and draws you to him for a kiss. It is one of tenderness, maybe even love. His hands stroke your back and knead your hips. He pulls your body against his and licks your neck as his fingers cascade behind and under you, finding your slit and stroking you.

“Aaah!” you breathe, your head falling back as he works you. You dig your fingers into his shoulders. He drags his lips over your neck teasing you with his tongue. You are wet in seconds but he keeps going until your body clasps his and surrenders. He raises your hips and pulls you down on his erection, looking at you with hooded eyes as he takes full control, raising you up and pulling you down on him. His arms close around you and you begin to move with him, finding places to kiss him as your hand strokes his scalp, his lips doing the same but at times simply joining with yours. I love you, you want to say, but it comes out in the stray tears that fall, the ones he discovers and kisses away as you move together. He whispers how good you feel, he moans softly when he holds you tight because you are pulsing around him, tempting him to lose control. You are pliable in his hands, you pant softly until you cry out his name breathlessly as he strokes your softness with his hardness.

When you reach your finale, you clasp each other tightly crying out together, panting in unison, cheek to cheek, melding anywhere your bodies touch, as if you seek warmth from the cold in each other despite the fire burning not far from you. But this is different, you both know it, feel it.

Even as you both laze in front of the fire and watch Netflix under a light blanket, the warmth is a humming between you. There is a knowing in his eyes that you feel are in yours. He spoons you, wrapping his limbs around you, even his leg draping over your body and making your laugh. You align your arms within his embrace as if need of protection, of possession, finding peace in his closeness. It doesn’t have to be said, though it should, but you know it:

You’re falling for each other. You could possibly be falling in love.

Thanks for the support! If you want to be tagged, let me know.

@mistress-of-ward @nuggsmum @jencanbeyouryengeralt @messyinsomnimaniac @sweetdreamsofgelato @maryann84 @omgkatinka @the-soot-sprite @viking-raider @keanureevesisbae @henryobsessed @summersong69 @kinbhot4henners @sunshine96love @michelehansel @radofrivia @thelastsock @michelehansel @tumblnewby @henryobsessed @defffcc @tenaciousneckpartypainter @rn7rocksn @mrskikkirazz @daydreamin83 @ruthoakenshield @musicartmayheminmyheart @michelehansel @tumblnewby @henryobsessed @defffcc @tenaciousneckpartypainter @rn7rocksn @mrskikkirazz @daydreamin83 @ruthoakenshield @musicartmayheminmyheart @mis-lil-red @kaatelyynn @forallthebrokenheartedthings @alphacancrii @liquorlaughslove @designerewriterchic @sofiebstar @tamychm @nikkilynn303 @circesgirl @aaescritora

Just found this story? Check out the story’s master list of chapters. Thanks again!

#henry cavil #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavil fan fiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #geralt #superman

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artistotel · 4 years ago

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HOW TO GET INKTOBER DONE...

...as a neurodivergent person.

A few more days and one of the biggest crazes of art world is upon us - Inktober! Famous challenge where, for 31 days, artists try to create one drawing a day in ink. Markers, brushes, pens... All goes.

31 days.

Currently, at the moment of writing this I’ve been doing that exact thing for... 276 days.

Yep. Each day - one drawing with brush and ink. Based on a random prompt list I put together. I have skipped only one day - the day when it was the Hourly comics day because I figured. Man, I’m drunk and it’s 4am and I’m drawing in ink - let’s just call it a daily drawing.

Now, let’s get to the ‘neurodivergent’ part. While I have spoken about certain difficulties I deal with through my art, I’d prefer not to disclose my entire medical chart on an internet site.

However, the important bit is: through all this time, I’ve dealt with a lot of depressive episodes. Yep. Including suicidal ones; episodes when I couldn’t get out of bed and so on.

276 days and counting.

How and why?

Often, my daily drawing would be the one and only thing I’d do. But it felt good - because I got up and did something. Hell, sometimes it didn’t even feel good; I couldn’t even congratulate myself on finishing it, but I did it. One little thing I’ve forced myself to make. Surprisingly, that one little thing - no matter how much I tried to justify not to do it that day - was the one thing getting me up. I’d sit for an hour, arguing with myself: give yourself a break, you are too bad to do anything; and the other voice - get up and do it, then come back to bed.

So I’d sit and argue, until I’d finally force myself up and to the chair.

Sometimes I did great drawings, sometimes I did terrible ones. It doesn’t matter.

What’s even the point of Inktober?

The point is not to create masterpieces like anime artists you see on Youtube, drawing post-apocalyptic mecha in one hour. The point is opposite: to learn to let go of perfection, embrace mistake, and most importantly for many neurodivergent people: to embrace routine.

I know ‘ok Karen’ approach is very popular here - but routine can do wonders when dealing with mental illness. Every professional will confirm it.

Get up - get the drawing done - go back to bed if needed. Do it in multiple runs. Do a part at 9am, do the second part at 5pm - it doesn’t matter. Do a doodle. Do a full blown illustration tomorrow. When 31 days have passed you’ll have something behind you. A witness of an entire month.

Another thing Inktober teaches you, if you’re an artist struggling with perfectionism and self-confidence is: that the more drawings you make - the bigger the chance of producing an amazing one will be.

Out of these 276 drawings so far I have 5 drawings that are the best I’ve ever drawn in my career; 30ish excellent ones, 50ish great ones, 100ish good-enough ones, and the rest is uninspired, bland, done just-so. The rest were the ones while I did trying to drag myself out of bed after a night of hanging out with my buddies - alcoholism and depression.

And now, almost 10 months later, since The New Years, when I look back - most of them are okay! I don’t resent them.

Daily drawing is a diary. It’s simply a witness of your mood that day. If you draw 5 drawings, the chance of having a brilliant one is tiny. If you do 31? The chance rises.

Not every day is a great day. Not every drawing is an inspired one. You might falter at prompt of ‘rollerskates’ and force out a pigeon rolling down the street, and you might be hit with inspiration on prompt of ‘plumber’. It’s not necessary to beat yourself up - is this creative enough? Good enough? Skilled enough?

Who cares?

You have more days in front of yourself.

Hell, even when Inktober ends - you still have more days in front of yourself. Make friends with imperfection. Imperfection is honesty. This isn’t the only time or chance you’ll get to sit in front of the paper. You’ll get another chance later; so just use this one. Even if you make a bad drawing - nothing will happen. Maybe you’ll learn something from it.

Anyway, this was a bit of rambling but I hope it helped at least one person. ;P

Uhh, happy drawing! Knock it out!

#inktober #inktober2020 #inktober 2020 #artist advice #mental illness #mental health

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lesbian-vmin · 4 years ago

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Why do you think Vmin are "allowed" these questionable (at least for those who ship them) moments? I find it curious that some things are really pushed to the front (jikook for sure), and then sometime we get the vmin moments and left to wonder are they real or fanservice? I really despise the thought that either Jimin/V/other members are doing this on purpose, because they genuinely seem authentic (as much as a celebrity can be on camera), 1/2

Honestly, the whole moment of Jimin saying that he didn’t keep in touch with his members at all was pretty weird. Jimin, since day one, has painted himself as someone who loves his members very much. He doesn’t want to be away from them for too long, and he seems more interested with collaborating with each one of them individually before moving onto people outside of his group. This might be why we don’t have him collaborating with other artists while Jungkook, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi have all done so. And of course BTS as a whole. (I don’t think Taehyung and Jin have? But I might be forgetting something) And Jimin has a great voice. There’s no reason anyone wouldn’t want to feature him in a song. So I’m sure there are people who want to collaborate with him, and I imagine he’s gotten offers. (This is relevant to the ask, I promise.) Although language barriers may be a reason (he might not be as comfortable collaborating with people he can’t communicate with well as some of the others are, excluding Namjoon (and maybe Jungkook is getting there) who is better at English.)

So we can look at this several ways. We can take Jimin at his very minimal word and assume that he didn’t communicate with his members at all during his vacation. In which case, I would assume that he took it as a very much needed break from them, and decided to focus on the time that he was able to spend with his family. Or, we can assume that not every word is 100% true. Maybe when he says he didn’t keep in contact, he doesn’t mean that he didn’t keep in contact at all. Maybe he messaged them once in a while to see how they were doing, but didn’t contact them regularly. Maybe he did keep in contact with them, but just wasn’t talking about his vacation. They could have talked about anything under the sun, but since they weren’t sharing vacation details, he may have counted that as not keeping in contact. Because people would question, “mm, if you guys were in contact regularly, why don’t you know details about each other’s vacations?” If they happen to be talking about something, and another member seems to not know the information. He didn’t want to give anyone a reason to question things like that. We can also wonder if he did, in fact, keep in contact with them, but he doesn’t want to share certain things about the members and his personal time. So he just told us that he didn’t stay in contact with them. I don’t know whether to take Jimin at his word for that specific moment, but I also don’t think it matters whether they stayed in contact or not. Even if the members are close and consider each other friends or family, they don’t have to remain in contact at all times. I don’t think it’s weird for friends to go on vacation (say, home for the holidays) and not talk to each other. In fact, it’s the truest friends that can come back after not speaking for a week to months at a time and act like normal (instead of being awkward each other). Act like no time was lost. (At least this is how I see it because it’s how I am with my friends. I don’t typically keep in regular contact with people who aren’t physically around me [I don’t text much, so unless someone like talking on the phone or video chatting, we probably wouldn’t stay in contact while apart] because I like to enjoy the company of those I am actually with. This might have been the case for them. It doesn’t mean they aren’t close or don’t care about each other.)

Disclaimer. This post may talk about topics that could offend easily offended people. If you are easily offended. Don’t read. You have been warned. Also I talk a lot about both Jikook and Vmin in here. Skip to the Vmin part if (for whatever reason) you don’t want to read about Jikook. But I’d rather you really read the whole post because this goes beyond shipping and focuses on them as people.

JIKOOK

The way Jikook is pushed to the front to me is actually one of the things that make me feel like they are fan service a lot of the times. (I’m not saying anything bad about Jikook because it’s pretty obvious that Jimin and Jungkook both adore each other and love being around each other, but they really are pushed quite hard and obviously.) I don’t know why that is. I don’t know the company’s reason behind pushing Jikook so hard, but I have at least one idea as to why they would do so (if they aren’t a couple). Because Jungkook is the “manliest” member of the group, and Jimin is the most “feminine.” You have Jungkook who is tall, broad, and strong. Then there’s Jimin who is small and cute, and he doesn’t try so hard to be manly these days. (I felt like he tried to present himself like a strong man in early debut because he didn’t want people to view him as the smallest and weakest member of the group, but it’s pretty clear that he became more confident in who he actually is over the years. And this is not a hint toward any gender-identity because I’m a firm believer that a man doesn’t have to fit the “masculine” spectrum to identify as a man. I feel like that’s leaning toward toxic masculinity).

Anyway, focusing on the Jikook thing, I think that’s why they get pushed forward a lot. And I hate to say that about Big Hit because it’s a bold statement to make, but it makes sense. They can easily look like a couple because it’s easy for people to imagine Jungkook as the “man” and Jimin as the “woman.” Since there are many shippers who ship for fetish reasons instead of gay right reason, these kinds of ships are likely to draw people in. It’s unfortunate, but it’s also true. Because of heteronormative culture.

The big moments between Jikook, like I said, often look like fan service to me. That being said, I’m not saying all of their moments are fan service. It just looks like interactions between them are more likely to be focused on during editing because of the reasons I’ve stated above. It might be something they aren’t aware of because it’s just editing their natural interactions to be the front and center focus of productions, but I think that’s what’s happening. And it kind of makes me feel bad for them because it’s like the company is making a show of their relationship (regardless of what kind it is). Even if they are in a real romantic relationship, I can assure that’s not why they are pushed to the center, and it’s far more likely it’s for marketing purposes. So, yes. I hate it for them, even if they are in a relationship together because it could be the company saying “look at these two. Aren’t they precious?” But it feels more like “Look at these two. Don’t they look like a “real” couple between a boy and a girl because Jungkook is oh so strong and Jimin is oh so dainty?” Even if Big Hit is LGBT friendly, it doens’t mean that they can’t do/say homophobic things (even unintentionally) or that they can’t market BTS for a heteronormative culture, and a culture that fetishizes gay people or uses being gay for entertainment. (Edit: and fantasizing.) I’m not saying it’s right for them to do so, because I don’t agree with it at all. And I’d hope that’s not the reality of it (because I really want for Big Hit to be different), but it seems like it sometimes.

Now before I get into the Vmin part, I’m going to share a disclaimer. Because I hope people don’t come at me after I’ve already admitted that it’s pretty obvious that Jikook are close and love each other. I’ve mentioned a potential romantic relationship between them, so I’m not dismissing them as the “real” couple (and I’m also, ffs, not saying there is a “real” couple between the two). I adore Jikook, and I wouldn’t even be sad if they were ever confirmed. So. Keep that in mind for this next part.

VMIN

I don’t want this to turn into a post of me comparing Jikook and Vmin, and I decided to answer this ask because I was sure that I could answer it with that intention in mind. So let’s see if I can do this right.

When it comes to Vmin, I feel like there are far less moments that can be chalked up to fan service. There are clear moments that are fan service, so I’m not saying Vmin don’t participate in that at all, but it seems like they do less than Jikook. (And I know this is a comparison right here, but I hope it doesn’t get taken the wrong way but) When Jikook does fan service, it’s so seemless and natural. When it comes to Vmin, it’s sometimes a little awkward, and they’re more shy. I don’t know what that means for the two different types of relationships, but I’m not getting into that (because then it becomes comparing the two in a way I don’t want to on this blog).

I think Big Hit chooses Vmin friendship moments to focus on because they know that people love their “platonic soulmate” dynamics. But, when it comes to “shippy” moments, these aren’t pushed forward as much. Because Taehyung isn’t broad and manly like Jungkook, so it probably seems a little too gay. And that’s not okay. It doesn’t sell as well as a couple that can be imagined as heterosexual. (And I also think this is why Jikook is the bigger ship, honestly.)

That’s it, and I know I didn’t address everything in this ask. And I’m sorry for that. But I tried to focus on what (I think) was the main point. And I wanted to make it about something very real rather than about ships.

So while I did, in fact, compare the two, I’m not comparing their “realness” or anything like that. I’m comparing their marketing value because I think that’s what it boils down to when we get to see what we see. And if anyone comes at me for my comparison on a personal shipping level, you will be ignored because that’s not what this is about. And if you can’t get that from what I’ve said thus far, then you aren’t reading my words and heart correctly.

I do want to talk really quickly about them faking it, and I’m going to focus on Vmin for this because it’s a Vmin blog. I don’t think they fake it. Because some moments are so subtle that they’re clearly trying to be hidden, and some are so natural that they clearly weren’t thinking about it too much. That aside, I don’t think they would fake their close bond. When Jimin wrote a song and was told that he would sing it with Taehyung, he didn’t have to make Friends. He could have made the song about anything he wanted, and we would have taken it with just as much enthusiasm. It was his choice to make friends, and I believe he put his heart into that song. Since it was the first song he ever had part in for an album, it’d be pretty disrespectful to claim that he’s just trying to save face or not being honest in it. And I know a song could be chalked up to how well it sells, but I think that’s for the company to worry about, but as an artist myself, I know that your heart and soul goes into anything you create. And I just don’t feel right about blatantly disregarding a personal song, so yes. It’s one of my main arguments why Vmin are obviously, honestly, close and care about each other. And I will stand by that forever.

EDIT: All right. I went through this post and personally cherry picked the things I wanted you guys to focus on when reading instead of you doing it yourself. Because you’re hung up about the fact that I mentioned that Jikook has fan severice moments (even though I said the same thing about Vmin), so you’re clearly cherry picking, not reading the whole damn post, or getting hung about the fan service instead of focusing on my main fucking point. I NEVER said they weren’t close. In fact, I took the TIME to put a DISCLAIMER stating that it’s PRETTY OBVIOUS that they’re close, and that they genuinely like spending time together. I get that I said “Vmin has less fan service moments” or whatever. Let me clarify: What I meant was that it’s the EDITING and the fact that they FOCUS SO HARD on jikook that makes a lot of their moments feel like fan service. There’s no shortage of Jikook moments, and it’s NOT because Jikook are the only ones with moments, it’s because they’re the ones that make the cut most often. And I stated the reasons why I think that is. I literally even explained the thing about the editing and said, “It might be something they aren’t aware of because it’s just editing their natural interactions to be the front and center focus of productions,” but sure. Dismiss whichever statements you want. Because clearly you get to decide what I mean instead of me. Also, “So, yes. I hate it for them, even if they are in a relationship together because it could be the company saying “look at these two. Aren’t they precious?” But it feels more like “Look at these two. Don’t they look like a “real” couple between a boy and a girl”

And, in case it’s not clear from how I talked about their relationship here, I am, in fact, a Jikook shipper, too. I stated at least TWICE in here that I wasn’t trying to dismiss the realness of them. And I talked about how shitty it is for the company to use their relationship (if real) for marketing. And unless they’re ever confirmed, that’s what they’re doing. It’s marketing. Because if the company wanted people to care about their real relationship, they would let them come out. And that is NOT me dismissing the fact that they could be in a real relationship. If you can’t tell from what I’ve just written right here, I’ll clarify by repeating what I’ve already said in the post. Because if the are in a real relationship, I can guarantee you that is not why they get pushed so hard or shown the most. It’s because their masculine/feminine vibes are marketable. There are Jikookers, LIKE ME, who ship them because they like Jikook. But you can’t deny that there are a lot of Jikookers who ship them because they’re a straight girl in love with Jungkook and imagine herself in Jimin’s place because it’s easy to see. If you are one of the real Jikookers that ship them for their actual relationship and would LOVE it if they were ever confirmed, then fine. That’s not about you. But you have to admit that there are a LOT of shippers out there (not just Jikook) that ship them with guys because they don’t want them to end up with another girl that’s not the fan doing the shipping. Yet they still would be upset if they were ever confirmed because then it means they’re actually gay.

I love Jikook, and this post wasn’t intended to dismiss their relationship or bring it down. And I’d say I’m sorry if that’s the impression you got from it, but if you’d actually read and not choose which parts to focus on, you wouldn’t have gotten that impression. I just hate it that you guys got that impression because I do genuinely like Jikook. As much as Vmin, honestly. I was focusing on how the company treats the two ships, but sure. Dismiss every time I’ve drawn the post back to that point.

#answered #anonymous #vmin #jikook #vmin analysis #koala answers #got a lot of things off my chest with this #said a lot of things i never would have addressed without this ask #and a lot of things i know I’ll probably get hate for #but if i can change this awful heteronormative behavior one step at a time #it’s worth it

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purplesurveys · 3 years ago

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1240

Are you better at cooking dinners or making cakes/biscuits/sweets? I can’t make any dish. I wonder when I’ll get my ass up and start learning...

Have you ever cut someone else’s hair? I wouldn’t dare; I have no skills in that department at all.

Who was the last guest in your house and what were they staying for? Angela and Hans came over so we can watch Sowoozoo.

How many long term relationships have you been in? One.

Do you sleep with all the lights out, or do you leave a lamp or even the television on? My default is lights out, but sometimes I’ll fall asleep with my night lamp still on and that’s fine too.

Who is one person you have forgiven, but still have not “forgotten” what they have done? I don’t really do forgiving.

Are you a fan of Lana Del Rey? No. I’ve tried listening to her songs but I find them too slow for my liking.

Do you know your blood type? It’s O but I keep forgetting what specific type.

Do you know your mother’s birthday? Yes.

Have you got your period at the moment? It’s on its last few days.

Have you ever been pregnant? Nopes.

How old were you when you first went on a plane? I was around 10 or 11, can’t remember exactly. But it was in 2009 and we headed to Boracay.

Have you ever had to take out a loan for anything? No. OMG, adult activity I don’t quite understand just yet hfdhfkdjfhdf.

Are both of your blood parents still in your life? Yeah they’re both grumbling right now just outside of my room because the power went out lmfao.

When was the last time you went apple picking? I’ve never done this. Apples don’t grow here.

Someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say? My pay for the last two weeks haha, but that’s not coming until Friday.

Have you ever been drunk at school or work? No, I wouldn’t dare. I’m pretty unpredictable when I get drunk, so I’d rather stay safe haha. I’ve worked while tipsy, but it had been outside of work hours.

How many bedrooms are in your house? 4. One for each kid, then my parents’.

Are you smart about computers? Nah.

Have you ever played Just Dance for Wii? We didn’t have the game on our Wii, but I’ve played Just Dance before, just at other peoples’ houses.

Do you own a Xbox 360? We were a Playstation household.

Would you ever do a sex tape for a million dollars? Erm, sure, whatever.

So, do you need a nap? I think I should be taking one for the sake of my health, but I won’t.

What would you rather be doing? I stumbled upon a Facebook post of this newly-opened store in Greenhills that exclusively sells photocards and I wanna head the fuck over there rn with Angela. That store concept is practically unheard of so it’s a big deal and I wanna go there as I’m 100% sure the BTS ones would sell out pretty fast. But they heightened the stupid COVID protocols yet again and we have to stay at home, so there’s that.

What sport are you the best at? Table tennis.

Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yeah but she’s turning 21 this year, so little wouldn’t be accurate anymore. We call her Nina at home but everyone else calls her by her full first name, Janina.

Do you complain a lot? I do complain a lot but I also do the thing that is causing the complaint right after so I can shut myself up lmao.

Would you rather go to an authentic haunted house or an ancient temple? Both sound fun but I’ll probably take the temple. Yay for learning something new about culture!!

Do you like fruity or minty gum? I don’t mind flavor when it comes to gum because they fade out anyway.

Are you looking forward to any day of this month? My company set another mental health break day this upcoming August 27th, so I’ll be thinking about that day throughout the month.

Have you ever gotten detention? We don’t have detention.

Is there a traumatic event that you’ve experienced that’s changed your life? Sure.

Do you buy a majority of your clothes from a certain store, or do you just pick out items of clothing you could see yourself wearing, not caring about the store it came from? The latter. < Same. I can be brand-conscious sometimes, but generally if I find something cute, regardless from where I found it, I’d grab it.

Have any of the artists you’re fond of released new albums recently? Technically yeah. It was a single album.

Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet? I already have two of them.

Ever cried so much you threw up? Possibly.

Who is your best guy friend? Hans.

What do you two do when you hang out? We usually eat out and have a drink or two.

What is a movie that you thought you would hate but you ended up loving? Spotlight, just because it looked boring at first glance. It turned out to be very riveting and the screenplay was fascinating as well.

Do you even like horror movies? Yes, but they’re best watched with other people.

Do you live in the country? Nopes.

What is your favorite accent? I don’t have one.

Have you ever had a boyfriend your parents didn’t like? No.

Do you drink Pepsi or Coke? I had the chance to try out Pepsi when we went to Taco Bell two weeks ago - it was my first time to have it and it was...actually pretty good??? The soda-hater in me was scandalized HAHAHA but it was good!!! I think I prefer Pepsi now.

What do you plan to do on your 21st birthday? My 21st birthday started out terribly because Gabie’s family didn’t want her to hang out with me on a Sunday (the day my birthday fell on), so we were in an argument the whole day. Angela saved the day when she planned out an impromptu dinner + arcade date for me, and that was the only good part of the day, really. I’d rather forget the rest of it.

Do you have any person in your family with an addiction to beer? I don’t think so.

Do you take a lot of pictures? I’m starting to, now.

What kind of face wash do you use? Good ol’ water.

Does drama always seem to follow you? Not these days.

Does anybody in your family race? Nope.

Are you closer to your mom or dad? Dad, I guess. But I wouldn’t particularly call myself ‘close’ with either.

How much money did you used to get from the ”tooth fairy?” I never received money from them.

How long do you want to live with your parents? Maybe up until my mid-20s? Late-20s at the latest. I’m not exactly in the position to move out yet. The money I make at the moment would probably just be enough to cover rent, and just rent. I’d end up starving to death hahaha.

Do you have a laptop or desktop? Laptop.

Do you like your parents? Sure.

Do you secretly like someone? I don’t.

Would you ever date your best male friend? No. I also wouldn’t do that to Angela.

What are you currently listening to? Moon by Jin! Such a comfort song.

Do you want to be single? Yes.

Did you go out or stay in last night? I stayed in and was knocked out pretty early since I had been up since 1 AM.

Have you pretended to like someone? No. I don’t see why I would have to that.

How is your heart lately? Just filled with nothing but Bangtan at this point haha. It’s doing well!

Are you wearing socks? No. Socks bother me for the most part; they make my feet feel a bit suffocated.

What do people call you? Robyn.

Do you get stressed out easily? Yeah, I’m quite the overthinker.

Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? No, I’ve never actually been inside an ambulance, whether it came for me or for another person.

What is wrong with you right now? I should probably cut back on the vaping, for one.

Do you own something from Hot Topic? No.

Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone? It’s hard for me to sleep with someone else. Even when I had been in a relationship, I usually only got to fall asleep an hour or so after my partner already dozed off.

Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? No, I cut ties at the start of the year and have been substantially better since then.

Have you ever seen your best friend cry? I honestly don’t think so. I’m the bigger crybaby between us.

Did you get any compliments today? My mom thanked me for covering for Cooper’s shots today since they ended up being quite costly.

Have you ever gone to a beach? Yes, it’s one of my absolute favorite places to be.

What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now? Pass up on the offer.

Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? Yes.

Have you ever done volunteer work just because you wanted to? I’ve never had the ample time to, so no. I’ve always wanted to volunteer at an animal shelter, though.

Do you have long nails? They’re not dramatically long, but they have started to grow out.

Do you like the gender you are? I don't like or dislike it, honestly. I'm just neutral. < Same.

Do you generally look nice in photos? I think this is the case these days, yeah. I’ve started feeling more confident and I think it’s able to translate in photos.

Have you ever had a stick insect as a pet? No.

What colour are your father’s eyes? Dark brown.

If I handed you a concert ticket right now, who would you want to be the performer? BTS DUH

Name three facts about your family? I come from a family of lawyers; many of us are big history buffs; and many are also fantastic cooks so I don’t know where that talent could have possibly gone when it come to my generation hah.

Would you ever get into a long distance relationship? If I’ve reached a certain level of investment in the relationship, I could probably handle it.

What’s the most thoughtful present you’ve ever received? A Punk shirt and Petals For Armor physical CD from Andi this last Christmas.

What’s your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. < Yessssss!

Did you ever play an instrument? If so what? I don’t.

Would you rather carve pumpkins or wrap presents? Carving pumpkins sounds fun, especially since I haven’t tried it before.

Do you think you’re important? Idk. I don’t really like drawing attention to myself though, so that could probably answer your question.

What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? Andi wrote a letter for me to accompany the aforementioned Christmas gifts they gave, and it remains to be my favorite letter I’ve received. They essentially reminded and affirmed me that I’m stronger than I think I am, and that I’ve been through a lot and have grown a lot, and that that growth is seen by people around me.

Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders? No.

Have you ever moved to another state or country? If so, how did it feel to be new? Just to different cities, but considering how tiny my country is, the move is quite insignificant lol.

Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks? I’m 100% sure I don’t know how to properly hold chopsticks, but I have my own way and it works lol. Fake it til you make it.

Are you more of a leader or a follower? Definitely a follower, but I can step up in certain situations. < Same. I don’t mind leading, especially considering the control freak I can be lolol.

What was the first thing you ate today? I haven’t eaten anything today. I skipped breakfast since I brought Cooper to the vet, and by the time I got back the dining table had already been cleared. It’s fine though, I don’t feel too hungry.

If you could spend the day, doing absolutely anything, with anyone, anywhere, what would it be like? I’d be with Angela, Reena, and Hans at that insane new photocard store I talked about earlier. IDEALLY, we’d probably pick up a photocard or two if the ones we want aren’t sold out yet (lol a rarity), then we’d have some nachos and stuff right after and just talk about all things Bangtan lol with Hans cracking us up the whole time since he is just naturally hilarious.

If I were to ask you how you are doing, and you were only able to answer completely honestly, what would come out? Content. Happy. I feel warm and loved and surrounded by the best people.

What is the one thing that you have been avoiding that you should do? Learning how to cook is one.

Is there anything that you wish you could take back? Not really.

What, in your mind, could make you truly happy? Being in the purple ocean with my best friends.

If you could change one conversation in your life, what would you say differently? Would it have REALLY made any difference? A part of me wishes my final face-to-face conversation with Gabie had been a more solid closure, just so we could finally put a hard stop to that chapter. But at that time I thought we would continue talking, so there had still been some stuff lingering in the air when we called it a day and parted ways. So in a sense we never really got closure when I finally cut ties, which the ESTJ in me remains to be nagged by, but I try not to be bothered by it anymore considering how much better I am doing right now. We didn’t know the future at the time, so it’s okay the way things turned out, ultimately.

When is the next time you’ll change your hairstyle? Will you color it? I have no clue. It’s not really a priority.

Do people normally say you’re a fast typist, or are you rather slow? I’m fast.

Have you ever been considered the ‘smartest person in school?’ Nah.

How many drugs are in your system? Just caffeine.

What’s on your schedule for tomorrow? Werkwerkwerkwerk.

Do you currently have any bite marks/hickeys on your body? Nopes.

Do you call anyone baby? I don’t.

What’s your current mood? I’m prety neutral. I wish I could be out right now, but stupid Covid and stupid quarantine. But I don’t really mind staying at home, either, so. I’m just so-so.

Do you think you are a good person? I hope so.

What were you doing before filling out this survey? I watched Sunday mass with my family.

How late did you stay up last night? Around midnight.

When was the last time you cried really hard? I cried just a few days ago because period hormones, but the last time I cried hard? I’m not sure. April maybe?

Is your hair longer than your shoulders? LOL yes it’s soooooooo long already.

#survey #surveys

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rachel-rebellio · 5 years ago

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Autumn is the Best Time of Year

part 1

It was a crisp autumn, November 3rd to be precise, and y/n was trying to distract herself from her post-Halloween depression the best way she knew how. She was tired of the typical Southern California sun and fires, so she decided to get in her car and drive up to Big Bear so she could see the autumn colours she had grown to love so much. She took in the sights as she slowly drove ‘round the lake with the windows down, letting the fresh mountain air hit her face and fill her lungs. She pulled into the Big Bear Village to bum through some of her favourite shops and get a bite to eat at a local restaurant.

As she was wandering through town, she came across an art gallery that hadn’t been open on her previous trips. Being a lover of art, y/n quickly wiped the wet leaves off her boots and fixed her beanie to better sit on her head. It was a small gallery, but it was showcasing multiple local artists from all over Big Bear City. The pieces were all beautifully done, but one in particular caught y/n’s eye. It was an oil painting of the lake surround by autumn foliage with the sun gleaming off the water. She had seen that sight plenty of times, but this artist brought a whole new perspective to it.

Y/n stood admiring the painting for several minutes when someone bumped into her. She quickly turned around saying, “Oh, I’m so sorry! Was I in your way?” just as this stranger also turned around saying, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there, are you okay?” Y/n was taken aback by handsome stranger when their eyes met. She was just as tall as he was, but it still felt like she had to look up to make eye contact. He made her feel small in the best way.

“Hey, have we met before?” Y/n asked.

“I don’t think so. I would’ve remembered a face as beautiful as yours.” He said, causing y/n to break eye contact so she could look down and try to hide her cheeks flushing red. Y/n looked up after a couple moments and said, “Well, my name is y/n. It’s nice to meet you-“

“…Ma-Matthew. My name is Matthew.” He said, stumbling over his words through a chuckle to fill the silence where y/n trailed off.

“I love that name. So, are you a big fan of the arts Matthew?”

“Yeah! I’m actually a little bit of an artist myself! I published a book that I wrote and illustrated about a green monster named Rumple Buttercup.”

“Whoa, really? That’s so cool!”

“What about you? Are you a big art fan?”

“I love it! I’m a black and grey portrait artist, myself. I love drawing people.”

“I bet you’re amazing. I’d love to see your work sometime!”

“I definitely have room for improvement, but I’m a lot better than I was when I started a few years back. I’m totally self-taught; so it’s been a bit of a slow process.” Y/n said, trying not to sound too self-deprecating right away.

“So, what caught your eye about this piece?” Matthew asked y/n in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

“Well, I’ve been up here so many times. I like to come up here and enjoy the colours of my favourite season every early November to try and help my post-Halloween depression. I’m not ready for Christmas quite yet and Halloween is my favourite holiday, so I need some time between. But, I don’t know. This painting just captured a scene I’ve personally seen so many times, but in a brand new light; and their colour theory? Are you kidding me? So good! Autumn is my favourite season, so it’s not too often that I find something that allows me to see it in a new light and through a different lens. I’m so sorry, I’m just rambling at this point. What about you? Do you like it?” Y/n asked, blushing and nervously playing with her hair as she looked over and saw Matthew paying full attention to every word she was saying.

“I haven’t been here many times, but I love their use of colour and the blending of the oil paints. Oil always gives it that nice gleam and blend to the colours.” Matthew said with a smile, physically pointing out the things he was talking about. Y/n couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his hands were as they gestured about and pointed to specific details as he talked. She could have listened to him talk passionately about anything for hours on end without ever getting tired of hearing his voice. Suddenly, Matthew turned to y/n, who was watching him closely even after he finished talking, and said, “I’m sorry if this is too forward, but would you like to get some coffee or cider with me? I saw a little coffee shop just down the street.”

Y/n tried to hide her excitement and answered as calmly as she could, “I would love that. I could always go for some hot apple cider.” Matthew walked with y/n out of the gallery, holding the door open for her on their way out. She couldn’t fathom what was happening; guys never paid attention to her, let alone a guy who looked like this. His brown, curly hair was just long enough to curl over his forehead and ears, barely touching his neck. His glasses framed his face so well and were large enough that you could see his brown eyes that crinkled nearly closed whenever he smiled his smile that was so warm and inviting. On the way to the coffee shop, they made small talk about some of their favourite artists.

They walked up to the counter to order heir drinks but when y/n pulled out her wallet to pay for her own, Matthew placed his hand on hers and said, “Hey now, getting cider was my idea, I got you covered.”

Y/n smirked at him and said, “Fine. But the next one’s on me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Matthew said with a quiet smirk right back at her as she, in that moment, wondered if there would even be a next time. Once they got their drinks, they went outside and saw that the fireplace had been lit, so they decided to sit on one of the benches next to it to enjoy their drinks and talk. It was now around 5p.m. and the sun had started to set so the autumn leaves looked even more beautiful in the olden light. Matthew and y/n were sipping their respective drinks and talking about how they celebrated Halloween after finding out that it was both of their favourite holidays. He went as Vincent Price and y/n was convinced she would never beat that costume, as Vincent Price was easily one of her favourite actors of all time. Y/n was about to finally admit what her costume was when Matthew quickly scooped up some of the leaves and dumped them on y/n’s head.

Y/n gasped, set down her apple cider, and said, “Ohhh, you’re on. I declare war!” as she scooped up an even bigger pile of leaves to throw at him. The two of them threw leaves at each other until Matthew wrapped y/n up in a one-armed hug, pinning her against him so he could take off her beanie off and continue dropping leaves on her head until she yielded. Laughing, y/n tapped Matthew’s arm saying, “Okay! Fine! I yield! Have Mercy!” which caused Matthew to also laugh until he fell to the side, still holding onto y/n. While lying on the ground, he looked to her and said, “Well that was fun hon! I always appreciate a woman who can hold her own in a leaf fight.”

Y/n shook her head at him before grabbing one last handful of leaves to throw at him and then stood to her feet yelling, “Victory is mine!”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?! Fine, you win this time.” Matthew said, standing to his feet and raising his hands in defeat which caused them to both start laughing as they picked leaves out of each other’s hair.

“I really didn’t think this weather through.” Y/n stated, starting to shiver. “I had such a one track mind about coming up here that I was stupid and forgot a jacket… and this flannel really isn’t doing the job. Mind if we step into the shop across the street so I can get a jacket?”

“Here, you can wear mine, if you don’t mind the possibility of it clashing with your flannel.”

“Not at all, but aren’t you going to be cold?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Maybe you could hold my hand to keep me warm.” Matthew remarked, trying his best to be smooth; although it may have come across as more awkward than savvy.

“Now there’s a nifty idea huh?”

“I try.” Matthew said with a chuckle in his voice. Y/n accepted the offer to wear his jacket and when she put it on, she noticed three things.

1. It was still warm from him wearing it.

2. It smelled amazing.

3. There was a single ping pong ball in the left pocket.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly do you have a ping pong ball in your pocket for?” Y/n asked, pulling the ball from the pocket.

“Oh, so one thing you don’t know about me is that I’m actually a magician. Here, I’ll show you a trick!” Matthew practically yelled in excitement.

Y/n handed him the ping pong ball and Matthew knelt down in front of her saying, “Okay, now watch closely.”

Y/n did as she was told and watched as Matthew’s hands showed her the ping pong ball and encased it. He held his hand out to her and said, “Okay, now blow on it.”

Confused, but eager, Y/n blew on the small white ball. Matthew made a weird noise and said, “My turn now.” and blew on it before making yet another weird noise. Y/n started laughing, but kept watching closely as Matthew opened his hands to reveal the ping pong ball had disappeared.

“Whoa! That’s so cool! Where is it?” Y/n gasped through her smile, wanting to know how it was done.

“Check the pocket again.”

“What- wait… HOW?” Y/n exclaimed as she pulled the small ball back out of the jacket pocket.

“Nope! Nu-uh. A true magician never reveals his secrets.” Matthew explained with a smirk on his face and his arms folded.

“What about an amateur magician? Can he reveal his secrets?” Y/n asked, smirking right back at him. Matthew looked shocked at her response before dramatically pretending to be deeply hurt by her calling him an amateur.

“I’m sorry! I had to! Forgive me?” Y/n asked, giving Matthew her best please face.

“I guess.” Matthew said, pouting. “But you’re going to have to make it up to me for that remark little miss.”

Y/n asked hesitantly, but also very excitedly, “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

#Autumn is the Best Time of Year #aitbtoy #matthew gray gubler #fic #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #my fic #my writing #fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #mgg fic #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds #cm #spencer reid #please don't let this flop

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franeridart · 5 years ago

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Anon said: YOU DREW SERVAMP AS WELL??? JUST IN HOW MANY OF MY FANDOMS ARE YOU OH MY GOD I FEEL SO BLESSED I COULD CRY

Aw man, sort of, yeah!! I can’t say I’m actively into the fandom anymore, since I’ve lost track of the translations for the manga and I’m definitely behind at least a dozen chapters, but !!!!!!!!!! yeah man I love servamp it’s such a good manga TT^TT

Anon said: Ok since you like fire force *slides $20 bill* can you draw some Shinra x Arthur?

Whoops, sorry but I don’t ship it just yet! (might happen? might not?? we’ll have to wait and see what Okubo has planned for my poor heart this time around) but! hold that thought and the $20 cause I might actually open up commissions soon enough if my money situation doesn’t change, so!! >:3c

Anon said: do you think kirishima would be taller and bigger than bakugou in the future?

My ideal adult!KrBk are the ones I posted a few days ago, so!! Not really, I prefer them remaining more or less the same size as each other, just different body types - exactly as they are right now in the manga, just !!!! adult!!!!!!!!

Anon said: I Just want to say: I totaly love your content! Your Art is amazing and full of life 🥰 You are my fav. KiriBaku artist on hole Tumblr. My fav. part is your Fantasy AU art. I fucking love dragon Kiri and his king. But i really like your full content. Pls keep going!

Thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!! (TT^TT)<3<3<3 I’m glad you like my stuff this much!!!!!!!!!

Anon said: Just wondering, do you like any femslash ships in BHNA? If so, which ones!!

I do!!!!! MomoJirou and MinaJirou are def favs of mine, and I dunno the ship name but Kendou and Yui got my heart beating really fast, ngl <3<3 there’s something in the aesthetic of it, it just gets to me! Also Nejire and Yuyu, such a good ship (oTT^TT)9

Anon said: Heya, sorry for this stranger call. I just wanna ask if i could use your Kiribaku Comics for comic-dubbing. If i post it on social Websites i will give credits to you of course. I'll wait for a answer. I couldn't ask you that per dm so I need to doing it here

I’d prefer it if you didn’t, sorry!

Anon said: Reading your essay about bakugo finally things into place!! Thank you!!! I guess I just didn't fully grasp the whole "he expects you to just get it". He IS a character that requires more than a cursory glance to figure out and i love that about him! And i love the endearing things he does like you said, especially his unexpectedly great fashion sense. Personally another thing that gets overlooked about him is how smart he actually is. He doesn't just go BOOM BOOM all the time. He a smart boi.

I find like the whole “he says one thing and expects people to understand another” is made pretty clear in the arc right after the overhaul one, even if I think it was present enough before then too - but in that arc he says one thing, and then another character says a thing that has nearly nothing to do with what he said, and he goes “that’s what I said!” and when he explains what he meant with the first thing he said it makes it clear that he just, has a terrible, horrible way of expressing himself that’s way more aggressive than what he actually means? He’s been doing this since the start, going around yelling die and I’ll blow you up at things and people and then when he goes to act on it his actions turn out to be way milder than what he said ????

but yeah!!! it’s made more clear the further we go in the story and that’s one thing I really really love about him hahaha

Anon said: It's not that you put Baku's ring on the wrong hand, is that Baku is too much of a rebel to use the ring in the traditional hand! :D

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ll take it!!!!

Anon said: I seriously just come back to your blog sometimes to go through your art and it's like straight up drinking happy positive energy I'm in LOVE with the way you portray both Bakugo and Kirishima and their relationship and the rest of the boys and it's such a blessing and a delight and I feel like I will never be able to be thankful enough. Thank you for sharing your beautiful art with us, thank you for sharing your throughts, thank you for sharing your love for these two boys. Thank you 💕

You are!!!! Too kind!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (TTATT) thank you for being so genuinely wonderful to me!!! and thank you for liking my stuff this much, it means the world to me!!!! <3<3

Anon said: I just read your Bakugo answer to that anon and honestly, there's so much love in it to be fair it obviously shows throught your art as well but reading that made me tear up a little. What an amazing character. What an amazing BOY I love him too thank you for sharing your thoughts and your amazing art you are one of my favorite artists in the fandom and I'm so glad you love him as much as you do and I hope it makes you as happy as it makes me when I look at your art 💕💕

GOSH thank YOU for loving him as much as he deserves, honestly!!! He’s such a wonderful character and has been making me happy for so long now!!!!! (TT^TT)<3<3

Anon said: I legit don't understand why people are taking things out of proportions I can assure you nothing outside of the usual squabble is going on in bnha fandom.There are some assholes on both sides but I think that since most of us haven't actually 'seen' it and just 'heard' of it means it's not exactly as prominent as they're making it out to be, probably just the assholes being assholes to each other exclusively, so please don't worry about it,they're messing up their own enjoyment of fandom really

I don’t really know what brought this ask on, to be honest!! But as things stand I have withnessed people being very, very horrible to others lately inside the bnha fandom (and obviously, specifically between ships) so! there’s that! then again it’s also true that the bigger a fandom gets the more easily rude people will find their way in it, so I guess it’s just something you learn to live with if you want to stay in the fandom - personally, I’m just doing my best to stay in my corner and draw my sappy comics without bothering anyone hahaha

Anon said: Just here to say that your art is like, my life at this point because I would be like big depression if I hadn’t found your blog. Not to rant but my week has been an absolute hell and your art makes me feel so much better and just please keep drawing because this means the absolute world to me ok thanks bye.

THANK YOU!!!! SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m so SO glad I can help your mood even just a bit, that’s really all I try to do with my doodles T^T fix my own mood, and maybe if I’m lucky help someone else along the way <3

Anon said: this may be all over the place, but I have the need to thank you? I was feeling very bad and down tonight, full on anxiety but I turned some music on and started going through your account and it calmed me down. I cant even count how many times I've gone through probably your whole account and just... thank you. your posts are so unique and funny and pretty and just sososo beautiful. I love how you built up bakugou and kirishima's characters and their relationship. just sososo beautiful.

Gods, you guys are going to make me cry for real (TTATT) you’re!!!! too nice!!!! again, I’m so happy to hear my doodles can help you feel better!!! I hope your days have been better <3<3<3

Anon said: So I keep rereading your latest kiribaku comic and its so fucking soft and I'm cry. It's so perfect and I just, it makes me so soft and happy every time I see it. It's honestly goals. I love ALL of your comics tbh, like, they're literally all perfect. Please continue to be your wonderful self!!!!

Thank you!!!!!!!!!!! thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! asks like this one are the reason why I keep sharing what I draw!!!!! <3<3<3<3

#fran answers #y'all.............................so kind.................................. *sob*#long post

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syubology · 5 years ago

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How to Start Writing

A lot of questions I’ve gotten over the past few years have been to do with actually starting to write, putting those first words down. Sometimes it’s people who used to write and are daunted by the task of getting back into it, other times it’s brand new writers, just tiny word-gremlins brimming with untapped inspiration, lacking the cynicism induced by years.. decades of having your life ruled by imaginary creatures.

At the end of the day, the only tried and tested tip for starting to write is WRITE, but I will try to provide you with a few others for the sake of appearances.

🌙

1. Start Small.

Maybe you’re incredibly imaginative and you have this entire fantasy series in your head just ready to be put on paper, but... try not to rush into it. When I started writing first, every idea I had was for a novel, but I didn’t actually have the skills (and still don't) to complete a novel, so this led to a string of failed projects, which is not good for the delicate soul of a tiny word-gremlin.

If you do have a big idea you love, I would suggest writing smaller stories, with simpler plots, based in that universe - for example, you could use a prompt list/generator (Google them, they’re everywhere) and adapt those prompts to your universe. If your story is some epic sci-fi horror series and the prompts are about funfair dates, it could make for quite an interesting time. These exercises will allow you to work on your characters and your world, while giving you time to build the skills you need to one day develop the story into something bigger.

If you want to work on fan-fiction specifically, fluffy drabbles are your friend. You can start NSFW if you really want to, but I don’t advise it. Some people find smut comes easiest to them, but for me - and most writers I know - sex is one of the hardest things to write. Again, you can try prompt generators (like this OTP one here) or check places like Twitter for AU ideas - although, if you’re planning to post/share your story, do not use other people’s AU ideas without their permission!

2. Read! Watch! Consume!

Consuming other media is literally one the most important things for writers and new writers in particular. Watching/reading casually is a great way to spark some inspiration, but if you find something you really love, something that makes you think I wish I wrote this, then I suggest going over it again with a more critical eye. Focus on the character development, the plot, the aesthetics - try to pinpoint the aspects of it that really make it resonate with you. Low-stress exercises like this will also help you learn more about storytelling in general without actually putting much effort in, so it’s win-win.

3. Adjust Your Expectations.

Understand that creative writing, especially on the scale of a novel, is a skill which needs to be developed. Just because you got good grades in English class does not automatically mean you’re going to be an excellent writer, and just because you’re not an excellent writer now doesn’t mean you never will be. No one picks up a paintbrush for the first time and expects to create a masterpiece. Artists of all sorts work hard for years to hone their craft and develop their style, and writers are no exception to this. You will not be good overnight and half the stuff you write in your first year, you probably won’t be able to read by next year because it will make you cringe so hard - but that’s not a bad thing! This means you’ve improved so much that even you can see it and getting a writer to acknowledge their own growth is no simple feat.

4. PRACTICE, but maybe not too hard?

There’s no such thing as I can’t write, or I can’t draw, or I can’t ride a bike. You can - with practice. You should know what your goals are with your writing and adjust your practice based on this. Do you just wanna spend one or two evenings a week writing about your OTP/OCs on cute dates? That’s fine, work at your own pace, and don’t force yourself to write if you’re not feeling it. Are you angling for a six-figure book deal? Then you write till your eyes bleed, my fren, you write till your bones are empty and your laptop keyboard is talking back to you.

That said, you do need to know when to stop. Creative burnout (which is a big cause of writer’s block) is real and it is horrible. Practice isn’t always a blast, but it should never be torture. Maybe you need that six-figure book deal more than you need life itself (big mood), but you also need to sleep, friend, you also need to do some things that aren’t writing or you will lose your goddamn mind.

5. Bonus: Write Because You Want to Write.

I’ve used the artist/drawing analogy several times because over the years in fandom, I’ve seen quite a few people start writing simply because they ‘can’t draw’ and writing seems like a good alternative. While I don’t enjoy the common misconception that being a good writer is easier than being a good artist, I’m not saying those people are wrong. Everyone should dabble in the arts and see what their creative side has to offer - this might be how you find your true calling and that’s wonderful. Just understand that while writing comes a little easier to some, it’s not easy for anyone. There is a huge pressure in certain fandoms to create in order to feel included, so just make sure that you’re having fun with what you’re doing and not simply succumbing to that pressure.

A Final Note:

I’m not trying to shit on artists with all these analogies, I swear, I worship them as gods. Each artistic craft has its own skill-set and they can’t be fairly compared, but people to tend to understand how difficult drawing/painting is because we’ve all been forced to attempt it at one time or another; however, people rarely grasp just how difficult it can be to write a good story because they got A’s on their ‘My Summer Holidays’ essays in primary school. So, one last thing to keep in mind is this: artists have an abundance of tools and mediums at their disposal, and they can try their hand at each until they find one that suits them; writers only have words and must build worlds with them.

Thank you for reading! This is my first proper post like this, so I’m pretty nervous and a Libra, so I’d appreciate praise and validation. But! If you have any more questions about this post or suggestions for future posts, please shoot me an ask! You will not be annoying me - I wouldn’t have made this blog if I didn’t wanna help other writers - and there are no stupid questions!

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #writing help #writeblr #syubvice

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space-blue · 4 years ago

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Artist and Hound

Iain Hund, former supernatural homicide detective, now mere magical vandalism inspector, feels the staleness of his car's air like a strangling hand upon his thoughts. He sends a last baleful glare at the wall he has pointlessly stalked for the past eight hours and starts his car to drive back to the station.

In all his years in the Sup-PD, Hund had never doubted his own righteousness. When the Harris case had come his way, he'd broken all the rules necessary to land the damn man behind bars and still felt like it was right. He had accepted his demotion as a cheap price to pay to save the public from the likes of Jack Harris. So when he put down his things on his new cramped desk at magical vandalism, and even after a year chasing Blues dealers, petty curse carvers, and weres doing their claws on public property, Iain Hund had remained serene. Regret bloomed in him when the Artist's case was made his top priority.

Tom, whom he shares his desk with, is a cold shoulder to cry on.

"No chance with this new stake-out then?" Met only by moody silence, Tom pushes a box of donut accross the desk. "You look like you need some."

"You eat donuts like a road cop."

"Well, those guys know what's up. Didn't you work with them, back in the day?"

"Yes," Iain sighs, dunking his hand in the proffered box, "and this case is the most pointless and disheartening task I've been given in my career, which includes these old patrols with the normal's police, writing tickets and shit."

"Come on, the Artist has been taunting us for years, but she can't be flawless. Guy with an ability like yours, what's that? Magikolour synaesthesia? Why go for stake-outs and CCTV? Why not make some traps? You've got more magical ability than this whole floor put together!"

"Tom, I'd need so many warrants for one trap, it's not ever happening. I think I got given this task as extra punishment. Something senseless to run after until I retire."

"What if they really think you can catch the vandal who's never been caught?"

"Why do they want that anyway? Because some loony normal might scrap some paint off a wall and somehow figue out there's something off with it? What am I to say to her if I catch her? 'You're under arrest for artistry. Your fingers will be broken... No, sorry, I mean, I need your address so we can send you fines!' Don't you think we'd all be better off with more art like hers in NY, and less wendigos or murderous weres I could put behind bars?"

"Hund, I don't wanna disappoint, but the world's been doing just fine without you. Also, moaning to me isn't getting you back into homicide and you know it. Artist is no murderer, maybe you've got to change your tactic, get original."

Iain, knowing good advice when he hears it, wonders about the changes he could make. The police, sup or normal's, has no name or face to put on the Artist. Even her gender is as good as the street word, rumours from the guy who knows a guy who's seen her.

Dusting donut crumbs from his notebooks, Iain peruses through weeks of drawings. When seen by normals or photographed, the Artist's work is static, if beautiful graffiti art. The drawings were to capture the details of what sups–anyone with a shred of magical ability–saw instead: myriads of images, sometimes a whole scene, with characters turning to the watcher, mouth opening in mute calls, sometimes the paint exploding out of the walls, pulling you in clouds of coruscant particles. In his book Iain has little boats on the calm waters of a lake, the face of a submerged god half hidden under lotuses; a pale man weeping liquid gold; a woman playing a sitar, each sound coming alive in the shape of a fantastical animal; a highway bridge pillar turned into an aquarium in which twirled a bigger-than-life mermaid; and many more. His notebook is far thicker than the case file ever was. In the last pages he finds the sketches made of a long mural of dancers. Their appearance changed depending on the angle you looked at it, a masquerade of shape-shifters. In it is a message for the man the Artist knows is on her trail, for hidden behind the legs of a dancer stands a black wolf-dog and though it has no collar, a golden tag gleams beneath its jaws, etched in the faintest strokes with the name Iain.

That's how she must see me: the law's dog on his invisible leash.

"Alright, let's get original."

"Mmh? Where are you going?"

"Hudson Heights. I'm gonna get friendlier with our local alchemists."

He leaves Tom to choke on his donut.

Alchemists have no claws or tooth to rend through you, but they don't need them. The power they wield, and their tendency for single minded obsession, makes them a prickly bunch, and the Sup-PD has a special unit for policing them. Iain's badge feels like a flimsy shield in his hand as he steps down from the sunny, all-American street and into the subterranean entrance to the alchemy quarters. The skills of the Artist and the finesse of her alchemical paints has already sent Iain deep inside those hidden galleries of shops and studios, where his questions revealed envy, admiration, and wholesalers of raw materials who did most business online and all proudly claimed her as a loyal customer, whilst unable or unwilling to prove anything.

The man at the entrance smiles at Hund.

"What do you want this time, cop?"

"Just visiting Toby Smith as a customer today." Iain grimaces. "Please."

The doorman grins sardonically, Smith being a famously irascible alchemist. He reaches for the door handle and applies his magic to it. To Iain it looks like a blue aura. A small displacement magic, that opens doors to other places. He nods his thanks and scuttles past and right into the maddening chaos of Toby Smith's shop.

"You again? What do you want now?" a disembodied voice asks from all corners.

Smith does business like this, never bothering to be present in the same room as his customers, his store guarded by an arsenal of curses that would make any hardened criminal as docile as a puppy.

"Paints."

"You're still after the Artist?"

"Ah, yes sir."

"You planning on defacing her work?"

"No sir. I–well, I like her work too. She caters to her fans though, and I thought, maybe, I can get to discuss with her somehow?"

Drawers open at invisible hands, glass jars and packets start drifting towards Iain.

"You're planning some sort of painting show-down? You've got guts Hund, I like it. Leave two hundred behind, follow the instructions on the packs, and work on your magic before mixing, unless you want blowing your moronic face off."

"Thanks sir."

"You're a better guy than I assumed."

"Sir?"

"Mixing paints to life is a tiny magic, but it's also very rare. The Artist has a unique gift. That someone with such a high grade magic as yours can appreciate her work is good. Maybe with you on her case she won't get wiped after all."

Iain mouth goes very dry.

"Wiped? Why would..."

His mind reels. It makes perfect sense now. Why bother with breaking fingers, indeed! Such a small gift, to breath life into a pot of already alchemical paint. It would take a tiny trap seal with her name on it to erase her magic as surely as if she were born a normal. He can picture his bosses, patting him on the shoulder. Good job Hund.

"Hund?"

"Thank you sir. For your honesty."

Iain goes home on autopilot, lost in his thoughts. He spends several evenings practising, and more building the final spell-works and paints before going out. He's mapped the Artist's work throughout Manhattan, and picked a wall she is likely to walk by. Finally he sits behind the wheel of his car and works a small shifting magic on his face. He has decided to go into the night to do what he's paid to stop. He feels shivers of anticipation and dread, a kinship and a respect stronger than ever before for the Artist who so inconspicuously prowls the nights.

He does her portrait, suggested, unfinished, broad strokes of paint revealing how little he knows of her. Sitting beside her stands a black hound with a golden tag, his muzzle resting in her lap, adoring eyes gazing up into her unpainted face waiting to be filled. Artist and Hound, he titles it.

A promise.

Two days later, Iain finds that the mouth of the Artist has been painted over in a slight smile.

~~ October 2018 – Theme : Small Magics

#original work #original story #competition #fantasy

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wherearethegirlbands · 5 years ago

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FEATURED PHOTOGRAPHER: JESSICA SEYMOUR

18-year-old Jessica Seymour is a Liverpool-based photographer about to embark on a filmmaking degree in Leeds. She tells us about her gig photography work, her favourite venues, and the Liverpool scene.

Tell us about your work. How did you get started?

I bought a DSLR camera after I finished high school to get into film, but before I had a chance to start making my own films, I ended up falling into photography instead - though it wasn’t the fastest process. I messed around for nearly a year with the camera, taking photos with friends and on days out without really knowing what I was doing before I started taking my camera more seriously. I only started to do gig photography in 2019, because I saw a friend at college doing it, and knew it would be something I would love. I reached out to ask how she got into doing photos for bands and she offered to take me with her to her next gig. As luck would have it that’s where I met Tilly Louise, who I still work with now.

Beginning was the hardest part. Starting from scratch without knowing anything about cameras and having to teach myself was awkward – mostly because I refused to read anything, and just decided to “learn as I go” for a few months. I wouldn’t recommend that approach at all, you do really need to know how your settings work and affect the picture before you mess with them! And even harder, personally, I found was going to the gigs and meeting new people. As exciting as it was, I was not very confident and was meeting people who I considered (and still do!) as being very cool and extremely talented. I’d also never been good at meeting new people, and meeting people who knew what they were doing was quite daunting. Everything about starting made me anxious! Sometimes I still get anxious when I feel like I don’t know what I’m walking into. Especially at new venues – I have no idea what the lighting will be like, or where I can stand or put my things. All these new experiences I had no idea how to handle, so I just tried my best! I was very lucky that my friend (@gina_may_photography) took me to my first gig. If it wasn’t for her, I very much doubt I would ever have had the confidence to go alone and start getting experience.

Despite all these worries, taking the jump into the deep end and doing my first gig was the best thing I’ve ever done. I say this a lot, but it changed my life in such a positive way. It opened a new creative outlet for me, and helped me discover so much incredible music that I never knew was just hiding in the city. More importantly, I think photography has given me a purpose I didn’t know I was lacking. It has continued to build my confidence, and has led me to create great friendships and memories, which is more than I could ever have believed would happen from that first gig.

What draws you to photographing musicians?

I’ve always been interested in music and loved going to gigs. It just seemed natural to me that I would want to spend my time doing photography there and taking pictures of the action. For me gigs are special because you get lighting unlike anything else, and some really dynamic shots from the band (without having to try and pose them!). My favourite part though, is that you get to capture some memories and try and convey the feeling and atmosphere through your photos. It’s like all the best parts of photography wrapped into one for me – aesthetically I love the colours, lights, and action that you can get from a performance on stage. And with all this, you also are capturing important memories for the band. Especially when you get to go to special gigs – a song release, a big crowd, opening for a favourite band. Being asked to be the person that saves those memories for someone feels like quite a big deal sometimes.

Do you have a favourite band/venue to photograph/set of photos?

I couldn’t choose a favourite band! I feel so genuinely privileged to have seen and worked with some amazing artists around Liverpool.

The artist I do work closest with is Tilly Louise though. We’ve become friends from all that we’ve done, and she’s very special to me. She is not only the most incredibly kind person I’ve met, but the root of my whole ‘career’. She has wonderful people around her (I would describe her as a magnet for amazing people, I don’t know how she does it), and because of that I’ve got to meet and network with so many others, mostly surrounding LIPA. Tilly does so much for me and the people around her, and I admire her so much not only for her heart but her incredible drive. So, if you’re reading this and you don’t know who Tilly Louise is, go and check her out! She will take on the world.

My favourite venues are Jimmy’s, Sound Basement, and EBGBS. Jimmy’s has the coolest lights and shooting The Blue Room there for a charity gig the other month felt very special. That’s been my favourite gig to shoot so far, because I don’t think there was a single person there who didn’t have an incredible night, and I still managed to get photos I am really proud of. Sound also comes out with some of the best photos – the lighting there is on a loop of steady colours, which I really love. EBGBs also has some nice spotlights... So anywhere with nice lighting is basically my favourite place. I would love to have another go at the O2 or try the Arts Club soon though, and other bigger venues like the Invisible Wind Factory!

As for my favourite photos, they genuinely change every time I take new ones! I guess that’s a good thing as it suggests that I keep improving. I think a set that really stands out for me though apart from The Blue Room’s ones I mentioned, are the set I did for Tilly Louise and The Beautiful Boys at EBGBs, for Tilly’s single release. I did more than just her set that night and I’m still pretty proud of all those pictures.

Has this been a good way of connecting with local musicians, or is the dynamic perhaps more separate?

It’s been a brilliant way to meet people and network! I’ve made some incredible new friends from my work, which I wasn’t expecting. I found so many people and such incredible music too, that I would love and be listening to even if I wasn’t there as a photographer. I do try to go to gigs sometimes just for the music rather than to work, since it’s such a different experience behind the camera. I don’t think people would believe I’m sincere if I tell them I’m such a big fan of their work, as it looks like I only want to sweeten them up in the hopes they’ll invite me back for more photos - but I am so privileged to hear their music and get to work with the people I do. I hold so many of them in the highest esteem and know I would be a genuine fan even if I was not working for them.

Is your work ever experimental?

Not really, and definitely not as much as I would like! I have started trying some more long exposures (and I am still trying to improve my technique), as I’ve seen many photographers use them and think they look incredible. I also would love to try using some sort of prism sometime. These techniques are both heavily used though, especially for gigs, so I would love to come up with something truly different that people haven’t seen before. As to what that is yet, I have no idea. Maybe start taking a drone to gigs to get some shots from a bird’s eye view? If I had the money and the venue was big enough, I think that would be quite different! However, I have a feeling that that won’t be happening...

What are you working on at the moment?

Nothing in particular, considering all gigs have been cancelled. I was meant to be shooting Melon Yellow Festival and Sound City very soon, and I was very excited, but now I’m not sure if it will work out. They would be the biggest gigs I’d ever shot! So I am ridiculously upset about missing them. I had such big plans this year! We’ll just have to see what happens. I hope I can make them in September but I already know Sound City clashes with another postponed gig I had tickets for, which is gutting.

What makes the Liverpool scene different to any other?

Unfortunately, I don’t have any comparisons to make here. I’ve only ever worked in Liverpool, but it will be interesting to see how Leeds compares when I move up there. I do hope I will be able to find a balance of going between the two cities though. I feel like I’ve really settled in with the Liverpool scene and love the people and opportunities here. I already know I will miss it desperately.

Why do you follow @wherearethegirlbands?

I love this account so much. I think it is perfect for building a supportive and interconnected community, and creates a great space to discover new people around the area. Knowing who is in the community and building a supportive network to showcase other creators and be inspired by them is great for everyone! Without the help of many people, I would not be doing what I am now. Plus, I love to see other photographers on the scene absolutely killing it. There are so many talented photographers in Liverpool who I look up to and feel constantly inspired by when the post, they give me so much excitement and passion to keep challenging myself. It’s also great to see which bands are in the area too: to see who you connect with, and even if I am not approaching it from a work point of view, it’s great to find new people you love as artists.

What’s the best live music to see in Liverpool?

I’d always say try and see everything and anything you can! I still have so many people I would love to cross paths with at some point, and so many different areas of the scene I would love to explore. I think some of the women in Liverpool really are the best though, so if you’re going to go anywhere, I’d try there!

#photographers

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skzrequests · 6 years ago

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Orange Juice - Seo Changbin

anonymous said : “My pace 24 w changbin? uwu im a sucker for the idea of tattoist bin lmao”

24 ➝ “Is that a tattoo ?”

➵ Pairings : changbin x reader

➵ Warnings : explicit language ; mentions of blood

➵ Genre : tattoo artist!au ; fluff

➵ Word count : 4.3k

➵ Note : me too, anon, me too :’) thank you for requesting this, I’m a sucker for tattooist bin too and for real, I think you just cured my writer’s block, so I can’t thank you enough ! I hope the fic is okay, don’t hesitate to tell me what you think :)

You turned on your heels, looking around for the soy sauce brand you usually bought. Finally finding it, the familiar red and green colours of the label catching your eye, you extended your arm to grab it before you carefully placed it in your cart. Pushing it out of the alley and into the next, you thought about what you had written down on your list of groceries that—of course—you had forgotten on top of the kitchen counter before going out.

What was missing ? You had eggs, milk, cookies, your favourite yogurt, your weekly stock of noodles, pretty much everything you needed.

Orange juice ! Of course, how could you forget ? No orange juice in the morning, no functional you.

Hitting your forehead with your palm at your own forgetfulness, you proceeded to turn around in the middle of the alley to go back to the juice section.

Stopping in front of the numerous orange juice bottles and packs that the store offered, your eyes once more scanned the section for the one you always took.

“Here” someone spoke next to you, but what you saw first was a hand extended to you, holding the bottle you had been looking for, with its childlike doodles of an orange in every colour of the rainbow.

Your eyes widened slightly, brows arching in surprise and thankfulness at the action of—judging by the voice—the man who had somehow found what you’d been looking for.

You looked up, surprised and wondering who it could be, although you did not expect it to be someone you knew.

You were wrong.

You almost didn’t recognise him. Not that his features had changed, he still had that same sharp jaw but soft curves on his face, but he gave off a totally different aura, to the point you weren’t even sure it was him anyway, no matter how much his face and soft smile left no place for doubt.

He was wearing a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt that he’d paired with black distressed jeans and monochrome black Converse. Something you’d never imagined seeing him wearing. But some things never change, and the black ringed cap pushed so far down that it almost completely covered his eyes—it made you wonder how he could see anything—convinced you of the man’s identity.

“Changbin ?!” you almost screamed in disbelief in the middle of the juice section, earning a few glares from the moms around, trying to shop peacefully, and some curious stares from their kids. You didn’t even notice though.

He broke into a smile, cocking his head in the direction of his still extended arm holding the bottle of juice.

“Your favourite, right ?” he asked and smirked when your mouth fell slightly open.

Anticipating your question, he didn’t give you the time to open your mouth again as he explained : “You drank it all the time, back in high school” he said and you felt heat slowly rise to your cheeks, “Can’t remember a day when you didn’t have a bottle in your backpack” he laughed lightly.

You didn’t know what to focus on : how he remembered your favourite brand of orange juice from high school, how much he had changed, how insanely good he looked ? It was way too much at once for your brain to process.

“I- uh” you stuttered, not knowing what to say or where to begin. If your internal alarms could stop blaring in your head, it would be nice. “What are you doing here ?” you finally managed to get out but immediately mentally facepalmed yourself. He’s chasing a tiger, obviously. Come on, this is the grocery store, what could he possibly be doing here, y/n ? you scolded yourself.

He chuckled again, the sound ringing in your ears and bringing you back to reality.

“Well, I guess I, too, need to eat sometimes” he joked and you forced a small laugh out of your throat. Nice job, y/n.

You then just stood there and stared at him, mind completely blank, as if your internal program had stopped working and the computer needed a reboot.

“So ?” Changbin inquired, making you widen your eyes at him again, brows arching, not understanding. “Are you gonna take it or not ?” He finished his sentence as he extended his arm even further.

“Oh, yeah, sorry” was all you could manage to get out as you finally took the orange juice from him, your fingers brushing over his hand in the process.

“It’s okay,” he laughed again, “I didn’t think you’d be that shocked to see me, though” he smirked once more.

You rolled your eyes as you put the bottle down in your cart, next to the soy sauce.

“It’s been years, Changbin, did you expect me to just go and have our super special handshake like that ?” you asked sarcastically.

“We had a handshake ?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

You looked at him with an annoyed expression. “No, we didn’t, idiot” you said and he just let out a small “phew”, resting his now free hand on his chest as if he had been worried about it. You and him were barely friends in high school, it was more like you had common friends so you were aware of each other’s existence. You’d only talked to him for school projects, seeing he was a rather quiet kid, unlike you.

“Oh thank god, I thought I'd forgotten it” he said. Oh, so he really was worried about it then.

You shook your head in disbelief.

“Anyway,” he said as he clasped his hands together, signalling a subject change, “how’s life going ?” he asked and you scoffed.

“I should be asking you that,” you said, “it was you who had no idea what you wanted to do”.

He shrugged. “I guess I found it now” he smiled. “But what about you ?” he asked again.

“Me ? I’m good, I guess,” you started, your face felt hotter than before and you were starting to wonder if it were going to explode at some point if it kept going, so you took off your scarf and turned around to put it in your cart with your groceries while you spoke : “I mean nothing really exciting but I have a job at least” you said, back facing him.

“Hold on,” Changbin stopped you and you whipped around, worried by the tone of his voice, “is that a tattoo ?” he asked as he took a step closer, pointing his finger to the back of your neck where the black curves of music notes peeked out of your shirt.

“Oh that ?” you asked back as he came closer and you turned again to let him see it, tugging your shirt down a little, “yeah it’s a tattoo, why ?” You asked again.

He looked at it for a few seconds without speaking before he stepped back, allowing you to face him again.

“I’m a tattoo artist now” he explained and your eyes grew bigger than they ever had in your life.

“No fucking way ?” You shouted, “That’s freaking awesome !” you exclaimed again and he smiled, fake dusting off his jacket as you laughed and pushed him lightly.

He laughed and spoke up again : “No, but for real, are you that surprised ?”.

You stopped and looked him in the eye.

“Not really. You were always really good at drawing, but I didn’t think you’d have the guts to do it, with the whole marking other people’s skin permanently, you know ?” you told him, “thought the responsibility might have been too much, but I guess I was wrong” you smiled.

You came to realisation that his whole body was covered by his clothes, but surely there was more to see under it all.

“Show me !” You exclaimed as your hands flew to his jacket and you tried to take it off him, “Show me the art !”

He brought his arms closer to his torso, trying to protect himself from your hands that were actually tickling him.

“Y/n !” he called between giggles, “If you want to see me without my clothes that much, you could wait until we’re somewhere a bit more private” he said with yet another smirk.

You instantly retracted your hands, only extending the right one again to hit his shoulder, earning a wince from him.

“Seriously,” he said, “let’s go pay for all that and get out of here” he told you, walking behind you to push your cart towards the check out.

“Oh wow, didn’t it hurt like a bitch ?” you asked as he showed you the intricate designs inked on his elbows, and you grimaced at the thought of the pain.

He grimaced too, as if remembering it perfectly, “Yup, thought I'd never use my arms again and that my bones had gotten pierced by the needle, but here I am” he answered as he sat back down, facing you again.

You nodded while still grimacing, imagining if you did it yourself. Elbows were one of the spots you never wanted to get tattooed for that very reason.

“Wow, I can’t believe you changed that much in just a few years” you confessed honestly, not looking him in the eye as you shook your head down.

“Hey, you changed a lot too,” he shot back, “and I never thought you’d ever get a tattoo but here you are” he said, gesturing his hand over at you.

“I have more than one, you know ?” you said, smiling lightly.

His eyes widened. “What ? More tha- and you didn’t tell me ?” he exclaimed and you laughed out loud, shushing him in the middle of the café—although you were just as noisy as him.

“Yeah, I have one on my thigh and one on my ribs” you said, smiling proudly.

“And you were saying elbows must have hurt when you got a tattoo on your ribs” he shook his head.

“Right” you said, “I must have been crazy to do it”.

“I’d love to see it” he smirked and you chuckled.

“Maybe I'll show you one day, who knows ?” you grinned.

“Oh, I’m sure I'll see it soon” he said and grinned back at you cockily as you blushed furiously and tried not to let it show, biting your inner cheek.

“A-Anyway,” you said, trying to seem unfazed, “I’d love to get a new one. What do you say ?” you asked, a little expectant. You had seen some of the things he had tattooed on himself, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love his style. It was just... so much like him. It was beautiful, mesmerising even, how he turned every simple thing into a piece of art.

Changbin’s eyes lit up and he cracked another smile at you.

“You’d want a tattoo from me ?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised, but mostly flattered, coming from you.

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously, duh ? It’s amazing, and besides, you’re an old friend, so that’d mean something else too, right ?” you told him.

“What you got in mind ?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Surprise me”.

After that unexpected encounter with him in the supermarket, and after you’d gone to a café and talked for hours, you were now headed to the tattoo parlour Changbin worked at, a week and a half later, ready to get that new tattoo you wanted so much.

At this point, you were pretty much convinced of two things : one, this tattoo would definitely be your favourite out of all the ones you’d be getting ; and two, you were undeniably crushing on Changbin.

You felt annoyed about it, because you felt like a living cliché walking around, falling for a guy you’d never talked to that much in high school after miraculously meeting him years later, after puberty had finally done its job (right). But you brushed it off, maybe it wasn’t the right time for you to get into a relationship yet, and nothing told you he was interested in you anyway. You’d probably been staying awake at night for the past days for nothing.

Still, you wanted that tattoo, and you liked Changbin’s company, so at least, you wanted to become friends with him. Who knew ? Maybe one day, he’d even offer you a free tattoo.

Picking up your pace a little to escape the cold, you walked up to the front door of the shop and pushed it open, making your way inside. You sighed in relief when you felt the warmth on your cheeks, your whole body unfreezing little by little.

You turned to the counter and greeted the girl behind it warmly and she returned a smile.

“You’re here for Changbin, right ?” she asked and you blinked a few times, taken aback by the bluntness. “You’re y/n, right ?” she pushed further. You couldn’t do anything but nod. She smiled at you again, although it looked like a bit of a smirk, as she told you to follow her and walked to the back of the shop.

She stopped in front of a closed curtain and pushed it to the side, peeking her head inside.

“Y/n is here,” she said, “you ready ?” she asked him. There was no audible answer, but he must have said he was because she stepped back and pointed behind her with her thumb, indicating you to go in.

You thanked her and pushed the curtain again, curiously eyeing the inside of the room before stepping in.

Changbin was sitting in his work chair, smiling softly when he saw you enter. You smiled back, feeling your heartbeat pick up a little.

“Hey” you greeted him, somehow your voice managed to crack, no matter how short that was, and you hated yourself for it.

Changbin’s smile widened, “Hey” he said back. “Stressed ?” he asked and you shook your head in response.

“No, it’s not like it’s my first time anyway” you joked and he bit his lip, looking down and away from your eyes.

“Right” he commented, followed by a discreet chuckle.

You pursed your lips. Way to go, y/n. When would you stop making things uncomfortable ? Probably the day you died, because that was the only moment you’d finally shut up.

Brushing it off, you cleared your throat, making Changbin look up at you again from his sitting position.

“So, uh, what you got ?” you asked, feeling the heat from both the embarrassment and the fact Changbin looked like a god right in front of you in that very moment. It was hard to keep your gaze on him, and yet at the same time you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of his figure.

“Uh ? Oh, yeah right” he came back to his senses and spun his chair around to his desk, pushing a pile of papers as he looked for his design.

You waited as patiently as you could, feeling your guts twist a little in anticipation while he kept making a mess before you.

“Ha !” he exclaimed as he picked a piece of paper and held it up, turning around with a proud smile on his face as he showed it to you.

Taking the paper, your eyes widened at the pleasant surprise you found drawn on it.

Pursing your lips again to try and contain your laugh, it was to no help as you burst out laughing, bending in half as you held your sides.

Changbin watched you, smirking proudly. He chuckled when he saw you wipe the corners of your eyes from how hard you’d been laughing.

“Changbin, oh my gosh...” you trailed as you tried to steady your breathing, holding the paper in front of you so you could take a good look at it once more.

“What ? You didn’t specify anything about the size.” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Changbin, that’s not it,” you said, not taking your eyes off of the drawing before your eyes.

“You don’t like it ?” he asked you, panic suddenly taking over him evident in his voice as he sat straight up.

That’s when you finally ripped your eyes off the sheet, eyes wide as you thought it was obvious that was not it.

“Are you kidding me ?” you said, not easing Changbin’s worries with the tone of your voice as he tensed up a bit more. “Changbin, I love it.” you stated and watched him slump back in his seat with a long sigh of relief.

“My heart is beating normally again” he said, resting his right hand on his chest over his heart.

“This is genius,” you continued, looking back at his drawing again. The carton of orange juice seemed to be looking back at you on the paper, although it had no eyes. There was even a small orange doodle on it, just like on the one you always bought. You chuckled lightly and Changbin smiled as he watched you. “I just... I never expected this but it’s perfect.” you spoke your mind and looked at him. He was a genius. That was the best thing he could have suggested. It was so much like him, so much like you, and it would mean so much more than anything else would have.

You handed him the sheet back and he set in on his desk, smile never fading as he spun around to put it down.

“Where do you want it ?” he asked as he spun around again to face you.

That, you had not thought of, since you didn’t know what to expect. You shrugged. “Where do you want to tattoo it ?” you asked back with a sly smile.

He pursed his lips, still looking you in the eye, as he thought.

“It’ll be your arm, then” he said and you smiled, nodding. “Get yourself ready” he motioned for you to take off your coat, “I’ll go get the stencil printed.” he instructed and left the room, leaving you alone as you removed your winter coat and scarf before hanging them. You sat down, looking around at the drawings adorning the walls of the room. You could see which ones were Changbin’s and which ones weren’t. He just had that thing, and it made everything he drew unique and easily recognisable.

You rolled up your sleeve over your right arm, looking one last time at your skin before it got inked.

Changbin stepped back in, startling you a little as you hadn’t heard him come back. He smiled at you again and showed you two stencils, two different sizes. Same drawing, though.

“Which one ?” he asked as he held up both stencils next to each other.

You thought for a second. “Maybe the smaller one ? It has to fit on my arm, after all” you said and he licked his lips, letting his hands fall down at his sides.

“Let’s go then” he said.

He told you to stand up and you obliged. Changbin took his sweet time to put on some gloves and pour some liquid on a compress.

He rolled his chair over to you and rubbed your shoulder and down your arm with it. The cold contact made you shiver a bit, although you knew it was mixed with anticipation. You’d never wanted a tattoo so bad.

“Ok, time for the stencil. You stay relaxed and remember to breathe or it’ll look weird” he instructed and you smiled.

“Yes sir, I know how tattoos work” you told him as your eyes shifted to your right to meet his annoyed ones.

“Let me do my job, will you ?” he said as he prepared the design. You smiled to yourself.

He applied the sticky drawing right under your shoulder, rubbing it lightly at the borders. He rolled back a little to look at it and gave you a thumbs up, satisfied.

You looked at the blue drawing on your arm. This was gonna look so good.

Changbin instructed you to sit down in his work chair as he turned to prepare the ink and needle. He rubbed your arm with another compress before taking his work tool in his hand and rolling back to your side, the noise the machine made making you bite your lip.

“Ready ?” he looked at you with raised eyebrows as he rolled your sleeve back up.

“I’ve been waiting for this my whole life” you cracked a big smile.

Changbin cocked his head a little as he scoffed. “Let’s do this” he said.

He brought the needle down.

You winced a little, reminding yourself to keep breathing and stay relaxed as Changbin ran the needle on (more like in) your arm repeatedly.

It was almost over, and you knew it, but that was exactly why it hurt even more now. Your skin was on fire after getting pierced through for so long, and you’d been bleeding quite a lot. More than you and Changbin had expected. It was a surprise, because it was only the arm and it was just a small tattoo. Y/n, you weak bitch.

There were only a few minutes left to endure. It hadn’t taken long, since it was small, and you were glad because somehow, it hurt a lot more than you had expected. Not as bad as the ribs, but worse than you’d thought.

Changbin straightened up next to you, turning around to grab some paper towels and this unidentified refreshing liquid he poured on your arm before he rubbed it. You felt the pain ease, soothing you instantly.

He looked at you, eyes shining and smiling brightly : “All done !” he announced, beaming with pride.

You sighed in relief as you got up while he cleaned his tools next to you.

“There’s a mirror right there” he pointed at the back of the room, opposite his desk.

Seeing a small bit of tattoo flashing on your arm in your reflection as you moved closer to it, you couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face, only growing bigger when you turned to see it completely.

It looked amazing. It was so simple, and yet so elaborate. You had no words for it. No words would do it justice, and no words could express how you felt at that very moment.

You turned back when Changbin called you to wrap your arm up. As he placed the transparent food wrap around your arm, he asked : “So, anything to say ?”

You looked up at him, blushing at the proximity. Gosh, he really was insanely handsome.

“I don’t know what to say, to be honest. I can’t find anything to say.” you told him truthfully. “Thank you, Changbin”.

He gave you a lopsided smile as he patted your arm after finishing.

“It’s my pleasure” he said.

You stayed there for a second, looking at him with a soft smile.

“How much do I owe you ?” you asked, walking to your coat to take your wallet out.

Changbin grabbed your forearm, careful not to touch you on your new tattoo. You turned around, quaking an eyebrow at him questioningly.

“You don’t owe me anything, let’s say it’s a high school reunion present” he said and flashed you an eye smile that melted your heart.

“No way, I can’t let you do that ! It’s too much” you shook your head, turning fully as he let go of your arm.

“It’s fine, really” he said as he got up to grab your coat and scarf before handing them to you and pushing you out, hand on the small of your back.

You made your way back to the front desk, carefully sliding your right arm into your coat’s sleeve as you put your clothes back on before stepping out, Changbin right behind you.

Flipping your scarf over your shoulder, you sighed.

“Okay, then I'll get going” you said. “Thank you again, and uh, I'll see you soon I guess ?” you told Changbin, the last part coming out as more of a question as you felt unsure about it.

He simply nodded and let out a small “Sure” and you awkwardly nodded back before you turned on your heels and stepped out, letting the cold wind hit your face with its blow.

You could always come back to get another tattoo from him anyway. Maybe you’d meet again at the grocery store. There was a chance you’d run into each other on the streets. Or maybe your high school would finally organise an alumni reunion and you’d get to see him again. Was it going to end just like this ? You couldn’t stand the thought of it.

You’d been walking a few metres only when you got interrupted in your train of thoughts by a voice calling your name. You turned back, curious.

Changbin jogged up to your level, wearing only a t-shirt, stopping right in front of you.

“Wait I-I uh,” he stuttered, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “I just realised uh, I don- I don’t have your number, so if you have any problems or-”

“Changbin,” you cut him off as he started fiddling with his fingers, “just kiss me already” you said bluntly.

He gaped at you and stuttered something you couldn’t quite make out, but he stepped closer to you and took your face in his hands nonetheless, crashing his lips on yours.

In the end, you were the one to be surprised.

He pulled away and looked in your eyes. He seemed shocked at what he’d just done, but showed no regret in doing it. Where had his confident flirty self gone, though ?

His eyes were as wide as yours, not believing what had just happened himself. Still, he asked you : “Wanna do that again ?”

You nodded quickly, “S-Sure, but let’s get back inside before you freeze to death” you told him and he cracked a smile before laughing lightly.

“I’ll go get my coat” he said as he turned around, “wanna go grab some orange juice at the grocery store ?” he shot at you.

You smiled. There it was.

———

~admin zia (@jinniesmeow)

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