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How to give good feedback on art (from an artist)

I often see people talk about how they want to leave good comments on art, but don’t know how/don’t know what to say. As an artist, here’s what I often look for to have something to say to other people!

The composition of the art – how different elements of the piece guide your eye, how certain parts are brighter against darker backdrop/darker against a bright backdrop. What catches your attention? How have they put the piece together to make this happen?

The lighting/shading – how have they rendered the piece? Do you like how the lighting is bright, harsh lines, or how it’s gently blended in? Do the shadows add extra depth that makes the whole piece look more 3D? Did they use funky, unconventional colours to shade?

The lineart – is it smooth? Sketchy? Are the lines thick or thin? Do they use lines at all? Are they in a colour other than black? How does it add to the piece? Do they just outline a piece, or add texture with lineart as well?

The colours – have they used a pallet of complimentary colours? Do they remind you of something specific – perhaps to the fandom, or to a season, an aesthetic, etc? Do they only use one colour? Do they use unconventional colours? Do they have one pop of contrasting colours against a monochrome background?

The anatomy – do they stick to exact proportions? Do they lean towards a more cartoon sizing? Is it like Powerpuff Girls, or like Tim Burton? 90s anime, or modern day anime? Do they make things very angular, or really smooth? What about it do you like specifically?

The texture – in the frame of digital art especially, have they used a specific brush to create a certain effect? Do you like how sketchy it all looks, or how they’ve blended the colours together? Does it look like watercolours bleeding, or a stamp/print made over the entire piece? Is it all rough, or super smooth?

The details – talk about how you love the tiny pattern on a blanket, or the multiple earrings in the characters ear. Talk about how you like how they’ve done the hair, or the little glint of light against a ring. Talk about the celtic patterns in the body, or the crooked teeth in their smile. Little things that jump out to you.

How it makes you feel – anything at all, but try to explain what in the piece evokes it strongest. Are you hit with isolation by the lonely figure in a wind-swept hill? Or joy, does that bright smile make your heart swell? Try and pick something out and babble about that.

Any meaning you can pick out – a little more tricky and often quite personal, but if you can pick something out that you think you can interpret, talk about it! I don’t think people ever get offended, even if you’re wrong – it’s interesting to see how other peoples brains work, and what they take away from something you’ve made.

Anything that stands out to you as a signature of Their Art – typically for artists you’ve followed for a long time – when you look at a piece, do you think ‘oh, this is by X’. How do you know? Is it how they draw the mouths? How they shade? The anatomy? The details? The colours? The composition? The expressions? Tell them!

I try to mix and match a few of these, focusing on things specific to the piece. Talking in depth about a piece helps an artist to know you haven’t just glanced it over and gone ‘oo cool!’ and moved on. If you want Tumblr to continue having a thriving art community, it’s beneficial to engage in and spread art around, as well as letting the artist know their work was seen and appreciated. They put the work out there for you to see for free! What can take you a few minutes of your day can make their entire week. Go support your artist friends!

Becca/Ode is finishing her shift when Ethan surprises her with a mysterious date invitation, refusing to reveal any details. How does she react? What has Grumpsey planned for them? 👀💖

Amazing (1/2)

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca Lao) Rating: Teen+ Summary: Ethan doesn’t understand new workplace technologies. He does understand how to woo his unofficial girlfriend.   Trope: Fluff; Date; Secret Relationship 

A/N: Hilde my LOVE! thank you for sending me this a million years ago & so sorry it took so long to answer. also sorry that i’ve answered with a fic that is is old(er than the ask). like summer 2020 old. don’t hold it against me 😬

__________________

The last dregs of sunlight spills through the glass walls of Edenbrook’s diagnostic office, highlighting paragraphs and pages of paperwork Rebecca Lao was finishing off at the team table, all the while her boss huffed at the screen behind his desk.  

“I don’t understand this damn system!” Ethan groaned with a slap of his mouse down onto the sturdy wooden surface. 

The hospital board had just implemented an app called ‘PocketDoc’ to hopefully help drum up more patients by doing video appointments, and in hopes of freeing up the clinic. Every senior attending was required to hold 5 video appointments per shift. As a department head Ethan Ramsey also was required to oversee that his team did in fact meet their quotas. All-in-all a truly insufferable feat. 

“It’s a video chat, Ethan. What’s not to understand?” Becca asked incredulously from where she sat folded in her chair. 

He glared at her in the way he does when she is being far too insufferable. 

Becca could feel his eyes burning a hole into her cheek. So intense she had to bite back the snide smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. 

“Haven’t you ever done this before?” she asked, ever the picture of professionalism, setting her pen down and closing the last file. “You must’ve if you’ve consulted across the country.”  

“If I am ever required to be visible, I use the ready set-up in one of the conference rooms. What am I supposed to do with this?” He motioned to the computer screen.  

“Your job.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Do you need me to walk you through it before I go?” 

“No,” Ethan’s quick to retort, eyes glancing at the clock and the overtime she’s already well into. And anyway, he’s an adult. The smartest man in Edenbrook. He can figure this out but it’s just taking so long and there’s so much other more beneficial things he could be doing than going through this software walkthrough. “But if you wanted to…” 

She rolled her eyes as she closed the space between them. Ethan’s eyes watching her as she saunters over with infernal pride and pink lips pulled knowingly. As she presses his shoulder, pushes just hard enough to roll him back so she could squeeze in and perch herself on his desk. It’s 6:17pm - the hospital is still buzzing, people everywhere with peering eyes landing their way at any minute, and Ethan knows it’s much too early to be playing these games. 

“This here is the camera,” she points, stretches across to tap the device at the top of the screen. “You look into it and the person on the other side can see you.”  

“I understand that,” he chides; and before Becca could continue her Training 101 session, added, “I know what a microphone is too.” 

That sweet smile she shoots him is all he can think about as she runs through all the relevant capabilities of the program. Cheeky, yet reserved, with sparkles in her brown eyes. The kind of smile he’s sure it’s just for him. He’s sure Becca knows that his heart beats just a bit faster every time she looks at him like that - that it renders him helpless. That every time she smiles like that he remembers all the times she’s done it before, when they’ve been happier than they’ve ever been.

“And here's where you can order a script,” she says with finality. “Got it, old man?” 

There’s that smile full of mirth. 

A short exhale and Ethan’s back in the workplace - “I think so. Thank you for your assistance, Rookie.”

He watches as that smile takes over her entire face at the pet name he so seldom uses since they’ve crossed the line.  

“Anytime.” Becca slides off the desk, smooths out the creases of her trousers to look anywhere but at the poorly concealed heat in his stare. “Wish I could be there for your first video call - that’d be a sight.” 

“What do you expect?” 

“A total disaster. Hopefully something embarrassing behind you.” 

He smiles back. “I’m glad you have such little faith in me.” 

Evening has firmly become night and the garden apartment is a full house - Becca’s roommates are settled among blankets and pillows camping out in front of the flat screen of their living room.   

“Becca,” Sienna calls as Becca shuffles back in juggling more snacks. With a regretful lilt and a wave of her phone, Sienna informs, “Dr. Ramsey wants you to answer your phone.” 

Oh the groan that crawls up Becca’s throat is a mix of emotions. Flabbergasted that he would be texting her friend. Annoyed for not wanting to deal with a case on her evening off, the only rational reason he’s texting Sienna about her. And happy, because she always is when his name is tied with hers. 

Everything ok? 

Not even a full heartbeat after she shoots off the text does Becca get a conference call notification through the PocketDoc app. 

“Really?” 

“You said I should practice.” That shitty smirk that shines through the screen and shows off his laugh lines nearly knock her knees. “You also failed to mention the conference call option between physicians.” 

“Maybe that was intentional.” 

He laughed. Low and jubilant and just for her. 

“Did you call for a reason or…” she asks, strolling through the apartment towards her room. 

“Sorry for interrupting your evening.”  

“That’s fine, we were just relaxing and watching reruns of Doctor Who. For a second I thought we got another case and I’d have to skip family night.”  

“Nothing of the sort,” he says, and she can tell that there’s more too it between the words he does say and the way he’s sitting in his living room. But instead, his eyes squint and he’s nodding towards something behind her. “What’s that?” 

With a frantic look over her shoulder, Becca hung up and logged out, leaving Ethan shocked at the curt informality. 

Seconds later a Facetime call took over his screen.  

“Hey. Sorry. Bit unprofessional to have a personal conversation on a work app.” 

Ethan’s eyes only rolled halfway into his head when some sort of deep violet fabric overtook the video screen. 

“That’s my new child,” Becca giddily explained. “Got it 75% off. No idea when or where I’ll ever get to wear it but I needed her in my lie. Look how pretty!” 

“It is quite nice,” he adds in between Becca’s excited camera panning in and out of every notable feature. The long lace sleeves, the deep v neckline, and the peep of a skirt slit. 

“Nice!? It is the most perfect piece of fashion I have ever come in contact with.” 

She flopped on her bed. The video going black and then turning so he could see her face. Laying on her stomach, her chin resting on her forearms. 

“What’s Jenner up to?” she asks, knowing he’s watching his dad’s dog for a few days.  

“Sleeping. What else does he do?” 

“Lemme see!”

And Ethan did show her the dog sleeping at his feet, even holding his phone so she could ask the animal about it’s day, winding him up until the old boy’s tail couldn’t wag no more and he fell right back to sleep. 

They talked for a while, Ethan and Becca. Long enough for her to strip down to her pajamas and tuck herself in bed, and for Ethan shred his shirt and relax with his feet up on the couch more comfortably.  

“What’s with the face?”  

“What face?”  

“You’re staring.” 

“Can’t prove it.” Her pink cheeks betrayed her, though neither were hiding their heated gazes. “Are you going to bed any time soon?” 

“Probably should - it is getting late.” 

“Yeah… it’s my day off tomorrow.” 

“I know. Do… you have any plans?” 

“No. Sleep in hopefully, maybe treat myself to brunch. The guys are all working so it’s just me.” The mention of sleep had Becca’s eyes closing and her body slumping further into the pillows. “What’re you doing?” 

“I planned on going over some paperwork I’ve been avoiding.” 

“Nerd. Get a life, Ramsey.”

The sound of his chuckle lulled her to sleep. 

___________________

a/n: sorry it’s garbage! but this trash can gets a part 2 soon!!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

May or may not have forgotten what I posted here myself months ago so the last post had a few repeats. oops.

Well I know for sure this one won’t because I stopped posting when I started the second semester, which is what this post is about. So the drawing above is the start of working with more complex shapes, using the ones we learned from last semester. This is also where things got interesting, since I could see the potential for architectural drawings.

There are a lot, and I mean A LOT of drawings like these in my sketchbook, I’m gonna show you only the ones I find interesting.

After that we went back a bit for cast shadows, which I have decided are my new mortal enemy in art. A long time ago it was rendering hair, but that’s nothing compared to this.

The amount of calculations you need to do for this and the different formulas for each shape make me wanna rip my hair off. And that’s before getting into more complex shapes.

They're not 100% correct but my teacher said the majority of people won’t notice anything wrong so I shouldn’t worry about it. I won’t until I need it for a personal project, then I’ll get very annoyed again.

After that nightmare I got rewarded with finally using colors to render for the first time!!! I love rendering with colors so I was very excited haha

The copper (right middle sphere) is my absolute favorite, and my teacher really liked it as well.

We also had a small lecture on arrows and ribbons/fabric and we got to render them with colors as well.

For all the colored drawings I used a combination of alcohol markers and colored pencils. The markers melted and blended the pencils and I could use this to mix colors I didn't have. For example, I didn’t have a red marker at all.

After that we had a fun exercise where we needed to either study an object or design our own. The purpose was to use the previous lessons about shapes in perspective, and the rendering of different materials. I went with a gun design, but not just any gun-this one is technically 3 guns, a pistol and an SMG that you can connect and form an assault rifle. So I designed each gun separately (somehow I managed to turn this exercise to designing 3 objects instead of one, leave it to me to make it harder on myself lmao), and thought about how they connect, making sure the chambers kinda align and stuff like that.

I don’t wanna brag but I got the highest grade in the class for this assignment. Mostly because I’m the only one that actually rendered the different materials (or tried to), but also because my teacher liked the idea and thought it was interesting, and something people would actually buy if it was real.

It’s not the best but I literally didn’t have a grey marker so I was pretty limited. I chose a stained-glass theme for some reason, I didn’t want to make it a normal looking gun. The scan made it a bit more contrast-y than it is irl.

After a huge break we came back and had one lesson of silhouettes, something I kinda knew but never went out and made studies of. The challenging part of this was the time limit, at the start we had a minute, but it went down to 30 seconds. We were allowed to go overtime but it wasn't considered good.

On the same lesson, we also had life drawing, using each other as models. We had to get the pose down in one minute, and then take that as a reference for a more detailed drawing. I chose to completely change the context at that point lol

The next lesson was about isometric perspective. I don’t think I’ve actually talked about this here, but I got scammed by a guy who asked me to make him a city island in isometric perspective, then when it came time to pay, he “took a vacation” for two weeks. Came back to tell me he’s definitely gonna pay me. Proceeded to disappear. Anyways I haven’t done isometric from that moment until this lesson, where we were given a prompt word and had to draw an environment following it. I used only colored pencils for this one because I forgot to bring my markers, but it was a nice restriction to only use 12 colors and try to combine them to make the rest. I really enjoyed this one since I got the freedom to make something cool.

(the prompts are top-to-bottom forest, COVID-19, underwater and space) my teacher walked up to my desk to see what I’m doing while I worked on the space one, and he said “you are crazy” every time he passed by. He showed everyone’s work around, and a lot of people liked mine :) The space one is based on a black hole btw, but if it was an eldritch horror.

The last lesson was a time for the teacher to review everyone’s work one by one, so most of the time we were waiting for our turn. He put up a pic of an old camera if any of us wanted to draw it, but I used it as a reference for a building because it reminded me of art deco architecture. After finishing that, I had an idea for a shrine kind of place, inspired by a spot I built for a friend’s minecraft server that we didn’t end up using. And I topped it off with Lykena and Eivrun sketches (that for Eivrun might turn into a full painting when it’s her turn)

The entire year my teacher was occasionally asking me if I’m not getting bored, because we were going through a lot of basics I was obviously proficient at already, but I always found something new to learn, no matter how small, even on topics I practiced a lot before. So I’d say this workshop was very useful for me. And besides, it’s always good to get critiques from a professional, and from people who are interested in art.

How is grid squares space time? I think that sort of got tossed out as though it were fully described, when I know I haven’t done that. It should be doable.

My first thought is that we need to connect finite, that is time is a series of finite constructions within infinite construction. I’m not sure series is the correct word because I mean forms and orderings, and some of those are series while others are not. An example is an eon versus a second; these become forms which we can invert, meaning we can compare across scales, across attributes to see what works and what doesn’t, what fits and what doesn’t. The former means processes, while the latter is existence states.

We have all that in the conceptions of Is and Not rendered as 1 and 0. That is a crucial step: the beginning of the statement is in a different symbolic form, so there is a K’ing, meaning a branching of meaning through the prior symbolic form and a branching through the symbolic. This enables multiple branchings, like the exploration of various symbolic forms.

I have to marvel at how good she is at this. It’s like reading a textbook, and it comes off the top of her mind. It’s incredible to watch. K’ing of my heart, indeed.

So we have finite and that organizes according to a few basic rules which humans extrapolated. One is 24. Another is 60, and of course 36. Putting them in that order makes the connection more obvious: 24+36 = 60. This means once they had the 6, then they had both the 24 and they could see that 6*10 = 6*6 + 4*6, which is the count of 10 divided up like in kindergarten, so they got 60 and 24. It’s a little bit of play to say 3600 *24 is a day. Especially since they may have thought the year was 360 somewhere, just not where they were. Why would they know any different? 360 is 6*60, so an hour is like a faster day, so 3600. I assume they would imagine heaven would run at 3600 years to the celestial hour, or something like that.

In other words, there are reasonable arguments for constructing a counting system which divides up the year and day as it does, with those arguments and the results matching what grid squares says the answer should be. Remember, in D-structure and thus using SBE and fCM methods, D24 is fundamental: it’s the IC of SBE2, it’s 4SBE2, it’s representation of I//I in which the Irreducibles overlay the gs space orthogonally, it’s an fCM count which relates to CM28 and CM36, it’s Hexagons, it’s a Dimensional Enclosure for 2 Things overlaid using SBE2, and so on.

So of course earlier people saw these things in Metaphoric Bundles, and represented them.

All this to say we count seconds in a reasonable fashion. The same as they measured the earth because it is the biggest ball they could measure.

Here is the dimensionality of a year, of a day, of an hour, of a minute, of a second. This relationship was built on 6 and 10, and we have discussed those in great detail. I think the most compelling piece might be that SBE3, that a 9 count, generates between grid squares sheets, meaning the f&b of 9 and 9 with a 1 Between now expands not only to 27 but to the 3 and 4 different forms of 10 inherent in the (1+(SBE3)+1) relationship. Those are now clearly the f9+the middle 1, and the b9+the middle 1, with the middle 9 having 2 forms of its own! That fully enables b10 at any dimensional count.

Has that ever been done? I’m not sure. I’m not sure if the dimensionality of bases has been examined like this before. I tend to doubt it, so that could be unique.

And the next point is that connects to an exact value because the patterns actually do relate. That leads to the stages of mass appearing in gs process. We did a good job using I//I to describe how this progresses from no rest mass through to massy particles and anti-particles. It’s the same reduction and expansion process used to carve up uncountable infinity.

That’s a good way to say you can’t construct the uncountable: it’s not made of countable pieces, but rather can be cut into countable pieces, always leaving the uncountable.

Okay, she’s signaling that we’re shifting approaches. We have talked about the fact that we have measured a form of time and connected a length to that. We translate that into the Informational Limit for two reasons. The obvious one is that this is a fairly common understanding of the idea. The less obvious is that we fit the IL into a larger value which treats the IL as part of a process by which information is exchanged in our D3-4 space. It conveys ordering information of various kinds. We know that is true. This is the process by which that happens. As far as I know, this conception is new to our work. It fills an obvious need.

This all occurs because grid squares are constructions. They emerge out of Triangular and Hexagonal. I’m stunned to realize we’ve mapped out the basics of the process by which this occurs. The dimensions Regularize into idealized polygons. They are represented in LayerView on a grid squares sheet. They form holes, literally generate the genus, with loops around rational points. They Inject Pathway potential into Things while Infusing the larger grid squares space, the Dimensional Enclosure, with Pathway potential.

That simple formulation at the end gives an approach to dealing with social issues. We’ve been waiting for a way of seeing these conceptions. How you see your Pathway potential.

It also illuminates a basic failing of American society, which is that treating a list of benefits as ‘entitlements’ has generated a war over what people are entitled to, in which the state is asked to be the all powerful balancer of equities, as though it were capable of doing that job, as though that were possible, as though that were desirable outside of some idealized state. The cowardly lion gets courage. The tin man gets a heart. Dorothy gets laid. Seriously: if this were sci-fi, Toto turns out to contain the soul of a wandering prince from another species. Andre Norton did that with a cat, and I love those books.

In other words, we can construct to reach time without talking about it as time because physical existence is generated into grid squares, meaning it constructs finite processes and existences out of infinite processes and existences, and that makes moments which become countable in this particular way.

submission request

its ur bf write me rengoku porn rn before i kiss you in electrical- u know what i want 😩 ——————————————————————————- a/n : !!!!!! anything for u babe!!!!! a request from my bf,,,,,,,how special,,,,especially when haven’t written on here in forever,,,,,, warnings ; mugen train spoilers!!!!!!!!!! s o m a n y!!!!!! mentions of rengoku/akaza fight, alternate universe where rengoku lives it’s what we all want anyway, pre-established relationship/rengoku is your husband, breeding/pregnancy kink, rengoku living and dying (figuratively) between your legs, “dirty” talk but rengoku is such a loving man i don’t think it should even be called that here, uhhhh body worship but with his eyes? its very vague but it is there, boy just loves you okay, also none of this is proof read or anything if that matters word count ; 2,728

I’m Home

When you first hear about it, of course, like his fellow pillars, you’re terrified-thankful, naturally, that your husband at least hasn’t died, but the crow sent to inform you of the events of his mission, of his injuries, doesn’t exactly try to sugar coat anything, not even for you, his spouse.

Skull fractures from dodging the punch that would have smashed his eye completely, broken ribs from dodging yet another hit that, if he hadn’t moved back fast enough, would have gone through him and killed him-the details were gruesome, they were bone-chilling, it wasn’t as if you or anyone particularly enjoyed hearing about it, but one thing was for certain-you were relieved not to have lost him to this, to have lost anyone. Tanjiro and the others were so strong, so hard-working, and they were so young, with so much to live for-you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if anything had happened to them, either.

There’s so much about it that pains you-not being able to have your husband home with you after he’d already been so busy with this mission and the ones before it, knowing how injured he was and how long it’d take him to recover at the Butterfly Estate, it was all… Torture. Not that you couldn’t go see him, of course-but Shinobu urged you to stay home and relax, you wouldn’t want to see him in the state that he was in, she promised you that much. Her crow did come by to personally update you on his condition every day or so, though-that was at least some amount of relief.

… Or, it would have been. You hadn’t seen any crow come by in a week or so, to the day-and yes, you kept track, because of course you did, you were an anxious wreck, and it’d already been months of your husband steadily recovering, or so you thought. Had he died from his injuries? Did something happen to the estate, were more people hurt? … Well. You supposed that was a silly thought, she lived so close to the Master’s own residence-no demon could get close enough to hurt them, with all the wisteria around both places.

You were so used to having your husband around to calm you when you thought about the worst things, like this-your heart hurt with anxiety and worry. What could you do but stand outside by the door, every day, for hours, just waiting for some sign, of a crow, of Shinobu herself, of anything?

It was another day that had gone by just like that-your feet and legs ached from keeping yourself up for so long, dried tear trails staining the sides of your face-you knew it was silly of you, you knew you should have tried to be at least a little stronger, for him if no one else, but… You just couldn’t help it. You hated this. You just wanted your husband back.

A dejected sigh leaves you as you watch the sun set for just one more moment before turning to go back inside, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes again-maybe tomorrow you’ll go up to Shinobu’s estate yourself. You couldn’t stand this for another–

“Hahaha! Now isn’t this strange! You’re running away from me!”

Your heart stops, and you freeze in place. What?

You feel him before you can turn to see him-chest pressed against your back, though soon you’re spun around and pulled up into a crushing hug anyway, and it’s all you can do to immediately start sobbing into your husband’s brightly-colored hair as you’re held.

“… Hello, my sweet,”  His voice is no longer booming and jovial like it was a moment ago, but soft, gentle and meant only for you, as he squeezes you to him-you want to worry about the injuries he was supposed to be recovering from still, but you don’t want this to end, either. You suppose, he must have just been coming around the corner and through the gate when you turned to go inside-not that it mattered, all that did matter was that he was… Here, holding you.

“You must have missed me terribly!” All hearty, he laughs with you again, even if all you can do is cry in his arms while he rubs soothingly at your back, “But of course I missed you terribly too! I tried many times to sneak out and come home to you, but Shinobu or one of the other girls always caught me-”

You missed his voice dearly, you did-and you were still crying, but you couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him. It was something you usually did to quiet him, for sure, but right now you just… Needed him. And he didn’t seem to mind, hands happily and readily sliding down to hoist you up into his arms, never breaking from you as he carried you into your home.

“… Such a beautiful shouldn’t have quite so many tears upon it, you know,”He mumbles gently against your lips, and you sniffle as you finally reach up to start wiping at them, “I-I just missed you so much, Kyojuro, I was so scared-you were almost-you could have-”

“But I didn’t, and I won’t.” He interrupts you sweetly, but firmly nonetheless, shaking his head at you, “I am fine. I am healed, my love. I am still here to fulfill my duties-and I always will be. That includes my duties to you as your husband.”

“I…” It doesn’t feel like you should believe it-after what you’d heard of his battle, knowing he’d even just encountered an Upper Moon demon, this felt too good to be real or true, and yet… There’s such certainty and finality blazing in his eyes as he stares at you, all you can do is nod.

“… Alright.”

———————————————–

… Really, all you had intended to do this evening, now that you had your husband home with you, was cook him his favorite meal and go to sleep with him, in his arms, for the first time in who knew how long, at this point. Truthfully, that had been your only goal. You wanted him to rest, no matter how many times he told you just how fully recovered he was through the mouthfuls of sweet potato you so lovingly prepared for him-and yet… And yet…

Well, you suppose you simply didn’t account for him wanting… Dessert.

“It’s been so long,” The words are mumbled around you, your flesh, as he greedily, really voraciously eats and licks you up from between your legs-you’d already known him to be feral when presented with the sweet treat only you could provide him with, but this was something else entirely, “-it’s been too long, my love, don’t you understand how very hungry I am?”

You don’t, but by no means are you going to let that stop either of you. You missed his mouth just as much as he missed your taste.

“K-Kyojuro-Kyojuro, I’m-Kyo–”

… He’s never been one to tease or deny you. And yet just as you’re about to cum, so close to the edge you could have tasted it yourself, he’s pulling away from you. His lips and chin and… Well, his face, in general, are so shiny with you-you easily forget your frustration and get lost in the blissful look in his eyes as he cleans himself with his tongue. “While you certainly are the most delicious thing in this world, my sweet,” He crawls up the length of your body so quickly, so desperate to smash his lips to your own, “-as I’ve told you, it’s been far too long. I want to feel you cum around my cock this evening. But I’m sure you have no complaint either way?” Any other day, you’d want to hit him, to get that cheeky look off of his face, but… You also can’t say you don’t want that. Maybe you really don’t have any complaints either way. “… You’re awful,” You huff up at him, but you nod, “… But alright.” … And yet he stays still. It would be so easy-you’re properly soaked, and the pair of you are completely naked, and yet your infuriating husband is just… Sitting there, hovering over you with a smile on his face. It’s a soft, loving smile-but you’ve known him so long, you don’t miss the mischief in his eyes. “… Can I not admire you, my beautiful spouse? Even for a moment, after I’ve been gone from you for so very long?” It’s not a crime for him to stare at you so adoringly-really, you’d love it if you weren’t as damn horny as you were. But... It has been a long time. He’s teasing, but as much as that’s true, you know he’s being earnest, too-his eyes flicker all over your form so carefully, meticulously re-memorizing every tiny detail about you. “... Even more beautiful then before I left you, dear one,” The way he murmurs it, so absently, it’s almost more like he’s saying it to himself, but his eyes raised to bore back into yours after a minute-clearly, he wants you to hear every word of what he’s saying, absent or not. “... Would you like to know something I thought about while I was away?” His love renders you breathless, speechless-it’s all you can do to nod up at him. “During the brief hours of respite I would get, I would think to myself... What would it be like to come back to you, our home... How would it feel, the joy of it all... And then, another thought had started to occur to me,” A sharp gasp tears through you as you feel a few fingers suddenly and swiftly beginning their work at stretching you out-sneaky man, he’d distracted you from his hands with his voice, and even then, he kept talking like he hadn’t done anything, “... What would it be like if I could come home to the sight of you all swollen and glowing with our child...?” Those words rob you of whatever meager amount of breath you had managed to regain. With your child...? “... Oh, my love, you squeezed my fingers so nicely just now,” He marvels at the sight, the feeling of you, worrying his lip between his teeth-you’re so pretty like this, is what he wants to say, but his mind is suddenly consumed by the thought he’d put into both your heads a moment ago. You, glowing with the product of your love in your stomach. You don’t fail to notice the twitching of his cock where it hangs all hard between his legs. “Do you like the sound of that, then...? Do you want to carry my children, our children, my dear one? I’ll give it to you if you just say the word-after all, what poor excuse of a husband would I be if I didn’t?” His fingers move in and out of you faster, frantic and eager to prepare you for him, now, as he almost rambles on like that-his words set your body, your insides, on fire. You do want it, you realize-it’s not something you’d given much thought to before, but here, like this, right now after spending so much time worrying about losing him? You really do want nothing more. “P-p-please, please Kyojuro, I want-please give me your children, I want it, I want you, please make me pregnant, my husband, please-” It’s not meant to egg him on, truly it isn’t-you just can’t help but beg with how badly you want it yourself. But that doesn’t mean you don’t delight in the way he seems to snap, just the slightest bit, above you, quickly removing his fingers from you to replace them with his cock-what you’d been waiting for since he laid you down in bed earlier. That felt like an eternity ago right now, though. The stretch isn’t an uncomfortable one, with the care he’d still taken to prepare you-you missed it, if anything, you missed him. And it’s clear that he feels the same-he’s gone so tense above you, arms trembling on either side of you with the restraint it takes not to move. Somehow, he still manages to keep up that bright smile of his, too. “Do tell me when I can move, my love. This is a bit unbearable with how lovely you feel!” ... As hazy as your mind was with pleasure, you couldn’t help but giggle. Even now, your husband was so... Endearing. So cute. Your bring your hands up to hold his face as you nod your head eagerly, over and over, “Please, Kyojuro-please, I want it,” You can see that he wants to worry about you, wants to ask you again to make sure-but he can’t, his body betrays him, his hips instantly slotting themselves against your own, pulling back only to quickly bring themselves back down, his cock pressing and rubbing against every bit of your insides as it moves in and out of you, over and over and over, so fast-and your husband hardly even breaks a sweat. ... His being a demon slayer, and a pillar, at that, had its perks, you supposed. His stamina was one of them. But he seemed to already be losing his composure, too, with just how long it’d been since you’d gotten to be so close. “This-this is embarrassing, haha-I feel like I could burst at any moment already-just-just thinking about how-utterly perfect you’d look, ah-” His hips stutter, and he stills for a second, to keep his own pleasure at bay for a moment-though he makes up for it with the hand that shoots down to rub and stroke at what his cock isn’t already touching, “-goodness gracious-how perfect you’d look, pregnant, my love-” As if you aren’t ready to burst, yourself. Did he suddenly forget about denying you mere minutes ago...? “M-my husband-my husband, Kyojuro, please, m-me too, just go ahead, please-please give me your child, give it to me, please-” “You’re really as difficult as you are beautiful!” The very wind is knocked out of you as you find your legs suddenly on either side of your head, as he fucks into you with a very renewed, fittingly fiery sense of vigor and passion, grunting freely every time he feels you wrap around him again and again, “I truly did want to take my time with you this evening, my sweet-how irresistible you are like this-I’ll have to savor you another time-” This position, the wildness in his eyes, the feeling and the sight of him-yes, the sight of him, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t see the bulge appearing and disappearing from your stomach-fucking into you desperately, all of it is far too much for you, far too overwhelming, but of course he revels above you in the way you clamp down on him and make a sudden, abrupt mess all over the pair of you, not to mention the futon underneath you. “So beautiful-so beautiful like this, my love-I-just the sight of you, you’re going to make me-goodness-” He leans over you and folds you in half even further, nose brushing against your neck, “I-I’m going to-I’m going to give it to you now, alright? I swear it, my love, my dear one, I’ll-I’ll get you pregnant, I promise, I promise, I--” It’s so intense, he almost roars as it washes over him, as he fills you up so completely it leaks out of you, with how long its been since either of you had any form of... Release. Your legs are released, and they flop numbly down against the plush futon beneath you-your husband can barely keep himself up, but he at least tries to be careful as he collapses against you, chuckling so happily against your shoulder while you can hardly keep your eyes open, let alone say anything. You wish you had the sense what was apparently so... Funny, right now. “... I love you, _____.” The biggest wave of tranquility falls over you, hearing those words. You can’t quite say much of anything still, but he knows-he sees it in your eyes when he looks up at your face. You love him too. Right now, that’s all he needs. “I really am so happy to be home, dear one.”

The Chain

Slightly horny drabble. Geralt has a thing for Jaskier’s neck and a chain he wears around it. Reverse bath shenanigans. Non-explicit.

WC: 1900

-

Geralt had noticed it on many occasions: on hot days when Jaskier opened his chemise a little wider than usual, when Jaskier stripped for a dip in a river or tub, when he stripped for the night and bundled himself into bed. It was unusual considering the ornaments Jaskier usually hung himself with, shiny rings with etchings, engravings, and gemstones. But these were for parties and grand affairs. Day to day, he did not primp and preen like a peacock with a fat purse. He wore only his signet ring. It was a tool as much as an accessory, though it was still something with detail.

The thin chain around his neck served no purpose. It was not silver, nor iron, which at least would offer some barest form of protection. It had no enchantments. It could not even be said to bring luck. It was dull, unfashionable, and did not have so much as a single charm hung from it. It was just … there. A short, barren chain wrought of plain steel.

Perhaps it was the fact that it was so plain, so thin, flimsy, and pointless that drove Geralt to distraction. At the very least, Jaskier might put something on it. If there were a locket or a pendant, something for the eye to focus on, that would be enough. But leaving the chain bare only seemed to draw attention to Jaskier’s neck itself. It was … a handsomely long neck. When Jaskier turned his head, the muscle stood out in an attractive line. Objectively.

Geralt wished he’d put something on the damn chain. Before he volunteered his own teeth to the task. It was a fantasy that had come to him one night. Jaskier had a rather distracting habit of nibbling the ends of his shirt laces. The chain was too short for him to reach. But Geralt could. And he nearly had before he’d come to his senses, leaning too close into Jaskier’s space. He clumsily reached past Jaskier to collect his empty bowl from the ground, floundering for an excuse. That had been a week ago when they’d been out in the woods. He’d had plenty of space then to breathe and forget about it.

But now? He was suffocating. Trapped in their little room above the tavern, Jaskier stripped of all his things, sighing as he leaned with his torso above the line of water in the bath, his head dangling back over the rim, neck elongated, exposed, and Geralt saw that damn chain glisten in the firelight. Jaskier had even taken off his ring, but the chain remained.

Jaskier hummed pleasantly, a damp washcloth over his eyes. “You’re awful quiet, even for you,” he said. He lifted the washcloth from his eyes and smiled at Geralt, catching him staring. “Cat got your tongue, witcher?”

Geralt looked away immediately. “I was just thinking,” he grumbled.

“Is that something you’ve learnt to do? Oh, I’m so very proud,” Jaskier teased. He dropped the cloth back over his eyes and put his hands behind his head, sinking further into the water. “Do indulge me. Pray tell, what has those ancient, rusty gears clinking and turning tonight?”

Geralt glared at him, the effect rendered less than effective by the washcloth. “Nothing,” he said. He finished unbuckling the last of his armour and sat to clean it. There was nothing to wipe away but dust. Even so, he was looking for an excuse to stay. To linger. Or perhaps to distract himself, having little else to do but turn in for the evening.

“Hm, that’s the Geralt I know. But come, some thought is rolling around in that head of yours; I heard it clink against the walls just now when you did your curious little head tilt. Won’t you share it with me?”

“You’ve been soaking for nearly twenty minutes,” Geralt replied. “You haven’t even begun to wash up and the water will be getting cold.”

Jaskier waved a hand at him. “So it can be reheated. A little snap-snap of Igni and I’ve got another half hour of relaxing ahead. Besides, cold water is good for the skin.”

“You’ll keep me up all night tending your water if you had your way.”

“Ah, if I only could have it my way,” Jaskier sighed. “I’d have you tend to me hand and foot, hanging on my every word. What fun! Providing hot water would only be the start; I’ve got a long list of things I’d do.” He chuckled fiddling with the chain, twisting a length of it between his fingers where his hands supported his neck.

Geralt tracked the motion with rapt attention. He cleared his throat began to pack his armour up after all. As he walked behind Jaskier, he plucked the cloth from his eyes. “You’d better hurry up and wash. I’m not reheating the water for you and I know you hate when the water gets cold, never mind what good it does your skin.”

He dropped the cloth back down on Jaskier’s face with a wet plop and Jaskier slipped back with an indignant yip, splashing beneath the water’s surface. It was a satisfying sound.

Jaskier wiped his face clear and wrung the cloth out again. He huffed and began to lather the cloth with soap. “Always so gruff,” he complained. “Here I help you selflessly scrub monster guts and foul muck from your hair day in and day out, but you can’t even be bothered to heat up a little tub water to warm my icy bones. By rights, you ought to at least return the favor once in a blue moon. I’m not asking you to scrub me head to toe—I only think a little reciprocation would be nice.” So saying, he scrubbed his face and ears, rinsed, and patted around for his oil.

Geralt sighed. Depositing his armour, he turned back to the tub. He scooped up the oil and pushed away Jaskier’s hand. “Fine,” he said. “Sit up.”

Jaskier beamed at him. He wiped his eyes and turned around. “Will you really? Surely I’ve fallen asleep, dozed in the hot water, and tumbled into some fantastic dream. Who is this courteous stranger before me? You couldn’t possibly be my witcher. My witcher would never!”

The hairs stood on the back of Geralt’s neck, tingling at those words. My witcher. Jaskier said them so often, so casually, and yet they never failed to get a rise out of him.

Geralt turned Jaskier’s head roughly. “Face forward or you’ll get soap in your eyes,” he said.

“O-o-o, so forceful. Always straight to manhandling with you.”

“Give you something to handle,” Geralt grumbled.

“What was that?”

Geralt poured a bit of the oil on his hands. “I said it smells like sandal. Sandalwood.”

Jaskier settled once more against the rim of the tub and tilted his head back. “Got some new supplies. Do you like it?” he asked.

Geralt did, but then he liked most of the scents Jaskier wore. They complimented him. Not that he would ever dignify that with a response. Instead, he simply began to massage the oil into Jaskier’s hair, working his way from the crown of his head down, fingers lightly scratching his scalp the way Jaskier often did.

“Oh, that’s heavenly,” Jaskier sighed. He leaned into the touch, his eyes closed as he relaxed beneath Geralt’s ministrations.

Up close, Geralt had a perfect view of the chain. He watched it shift as Jaskier spoke. The chain reflected the flickering light in an almost hypnotic fashion. Slowly, his hands worked down to the nape of Jaskier’s neck, still massaging as he stared, his mind drifting. Jaskier made an odd little rumble in the back of his throat. Geralt massaged the place harder, hoping to hear that sound again.

“Soap next,” Jaskier said. He passed the cloth to Geralt, not bothering to open his eyes.

They’d never said anything about soaping or scrubbing, but Geralt was in no position to refuse. Not with Jaskier’s neck angled so enticingly, and here, the perfect excuse to reach out and touch. He lathered soap in the cloth. In a moment, it was touching the side of Jaskier’s neck. And yet …

“Your, uh. Your chain,” he said.

Jaskier cracked one eye to look back at him. “Oh. You may remove it. Just be sure to put it back when you’re done.”

Geralt swallowed and set the washcloth on Jaskier’s shoulder a moment. He reached for the chain, only to find no fastening in the back. He had to turn it, had to watch the drag of it against Jaskier’s skin as he searched. The chain was warm and wet and it was difficult to get a solid grip on the clasp when he at last had found it. But it soon came free.

He hesitated. Now that he had it, where could he put it? There was no stool, and it felt improper to put it on the floor. He looked at Jaskier, wondering if he might offer to hold onto it, then he was again distracted by the line of his neck.

He’d been wrong. After wearing the chain so long, it was now, perhaps, more indecent to see his neck without it. Geralt watched a drop of water roll down the side of Jaskier’s neck and felt the impulse to chase it with his tongue. To prevent himself from following through, he succumbed to another impulse which might go unobserved and placed the chain between his teeth.

Jaskier hummed once more as Geralt’s hands returned to their task. It was meditative, Geralt discovered. He moved the cloth in small circles, covering every inch of Jaskier’s neck twice. He cupped water in one hand, let it trickle down and wash the suds away. With gentle fingers, he flicked away a stray bubble, his touch lingering only a moment more to appreciate the soft skin beneath. And then he was washing Jaskier’s shoulders, his hand dipping only a little to feel the breadth of his chest.

“Geralt,” Jaskier said.

But Geralt was distracted. He was busy running the cloth once more between Jaskier’s shoulders, running the tip of his tongue across the links of the chain.

“Geralt,” Jaskier repeated. He reached back, raised a hand up to run along Geralt’s cheek. His fingers touched the end of the chain, slipping against the corner of Geralt’s mouth. He tugged it, pulling it link by link from between Geralt’s teeth. And then Geralt felt something warm and wet lightly touch the opposite corner. A kiss. Just barely.

Geralt’s breath caught in his lungs and his eyes fluttered shut. He felt Jaskier’s teasing touch disappear, fingers curling beneath his chin and sinking once more beneath the water. He opened his eyes and saw Jaskier smiling back at him, the chain dangling in his hand.

“The bath is getting cold,” he said, a salacious tenor to his voice. “Feel like warming me up?”

And before Geralt could answer, Jaskier had a finger curled around the silver chain of his medallion, pulling him in.

Jaskier smirked up at him. He took the washcloth from his hand and replaced it with the chain. “I’ll wear yours,” he whispered, “if you’ll wear mine.”

And now Geralt indulged a new fantasy. Yes, Jaskier’s chain needed something after all, he decided. It needed only one simple ornament to make it complete.

It needed a wolf.

Finally

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence & death, nsfw content

Summary: reader finally sees her lover Eren after the team retrieves him to the airship, yet he’s not the same. Will she bring him back?

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: Forgive me if some details are inaccurate, this is my rendering of the situation, so some things may not add up!

Finally.

Finally, the day you’re going to see Eren again.

You shivered with anticipation, thinking about the letters that were going sparse, until there were none. You’ve been inseparable, supporting each other every step of the way, but Eren had to deal with unthinkable, horrible things along the same steps too, and you couldn’t take all of it away – the burning hatred seeped into his brain, numbing his senses and compassion.

He offered no explanation in letters as to why he’d stopped writing so often, and you didn’t ask for one – he’s in enemy’s land, surely he has his reasons, but deep down you knew he was pushing you away.

What were you going to say to him? Will you hug him? Will he hug you? You had no idea, and it was killing you.

Your adrenaline was over the roof. Everything around you was destroyed, splintered, ground to pieces – Eren did that.

It seemed that you lost it when you realized that Eren had transformed without the care of hurting innocent civilians – his sense of revenge was stronger than anything else. You haven’t been able to approach him yet, to look into his mesmerizing jade eyes. You suspected Captain Levi has positioned you away from him on purpose – who knows how you and Eren would’ve reacted to each other’s presence after so long.

You felt the insides of your stomach turn as you hooked your cables on the airship and zipped-lined towards it. Just a minute ago you saw how Mikasa made it inside, dragging Eren along. You heard a commotion above you – Captain Levi was cussing Eren out. The casual.

You felt how everyone stopped whatever they were doing as you were climbing on board – secretly, they all wanted to know what will happen once you two meet again. That’s how powerful you two are. Were.

Out of breath, you stood up, regaining your posture, your rifle still in hands as you finally looked at him: if not for the emerald sheen of his eyes, you wouldn’t have recognized this ragged, miserable man with a chestnut resembling that of a lion.

You stared into each other, the unbearable grief that consumed you rendering you immobile. Quickly, your vision worsened, tears blurring your eyes as you realized there’s nothing behind those of Eren. He looks at you, yet doesn’t say anything, doesn’t feel anything.

“Move,” Captain Levi muttered and lightly pushed you aside.

You tore your gaze away from Eren, breathing shallow breaths as you stumbled towards the wall, leaning on it.

And then you heard the shot.

~

It was unbearable. One fleeting moment, one slightest miscalculation, and she’s gone. Sasha is gone.

You kneeled beside her tomb with your head hanging down, hot teardrops sinking into the pale stone. Everything was always shit, but now… now it’s pure hell. You sobbed and raised your head to look at the cloudy sky, cutting off the air flow, trying to pull yourself together.

“Hey,” Jean approached you, Connie not far behind. “Come here.”

He crouched down to your level and placed his palms on your shoulders reassuringly, helping you stand up.

Eren was nowhere to be seen. He kept to himself in his quarters, but Captain Levi forbid anyone to properly visit him anyway. He thought Eren’s unstable.

But you thought the opposite. Eren’s perfectly stable – the deadly precision, calculation and determination fueled his conscious, revenge-fueled decisions, and frankly, you were afraid. He wasn’t thrashing around like he would years ago, screaming and tearing everything apart, consumed by fury – he knew what he was doing now.

The last time you laid eyes on him was during Sasha’s funeral, but it seemed that he wasn’t even there. His body was, of course, but his mind was fleeting somewhere else, somewhere where he could continue plotting the utter extermination of every last one of his enemies.

It’s going to be hard, bringing him back. Hell, you didn’t even know if it’s possible – he truly looked like a goner. But you were going to try, because there isn’t any other living being in the world you love more than Eren Jaeger.

~

You sat on your bed, facing the one that belonged to Sasha. She would tell you to stand up and go straight to Eren and whoop his ass for ignoring you.

You sank your teeth in your lower lip as you stood up and made your way towards Captain Levi’s office.

“Come in,” his low voice muttered after you knocked. He rolled his eyes when he saw it’s you.

“What is it?” he asked, his desk already stuffed with a bunch of paperwork.

“I need to visit Eren.” you realized how selfish your request sounds in the midst of everything, but you couldn’t help it.

“No.” he answered after a few seconds of regarding you, without any care in the world. “You’ll just wind him up.”

Your heart skipped a beat – if Captain Levi thought that Eren still feels something for you, then maybe it’s true.

“Please, Captain, I –”

“Stop whining, brat.” he hissed, silencing you.

There was a wall of miscommunication between the two of you as you stared at each other, trying to convince one another silently.

He put down his pen after a few moments and leaned back in his chair as he sighed slowly. “You’re gonna do it anyway, aren’t you?”

You shrugged ever so slightly as you stared at nothing in particular.

Some more silence passed. “I’ve not yet decided on giving you week’s-worth punishment for insubordination, but go. Get out.”

“Thank you, Captain.” you bowed your head to him quickly, suppressing your smile as you basically ran away.

Levi rubbed his forehead. “Stupid brats.”

~

As you approached the door of Eren’s room, your heart pounded against your ribs so hard, you truly thought they’re going to crack. Yet here you were, standing within a step from the door, eyeing the little crack of light that emits from within – it’s not completely closed.

You lifted your trembling arm and knocked softly, then once again, harder this time, thinking he may not have heard it.

“Eren?” you whispered weakly after you got no reply once again.

You gulped and pushed the door further, stepping in – empty. He’s not here.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you stepped further, looking around. The whole room looked almost untouched if not for the sack of a few items he brought from his old room. Your eyes flicked towards a stack of letters on the desk – your letters.

Your lower lip quivered as you approached them, picking one up – not even opened.

Pain and anger spun like a vortex inside you, bringing hot tears to your eyes. How important must’ve been the reason that he denied you the slightest explanation?

The letter dropped back to the desk as you flinched, hearing the door shut behind you.

Gasping quietly, you turned around, seeing him clearly for the first time since a couple of days ago. He stood there in all his cool, newfound glory: hair long enough to be messily gathered in a bun, naked torso adorned with chiseled abs, V line protruding from his waistline, and pants that hugged his muscular legs.

He had a toweled hanging over his shoulder – that’s where he’s been, in the showers.

You didn’t know what was the exact reason for the hot blush that crept to your face in a second – the fact that Eren is even more attractive than you remember, or that you stood there like a mute, with your jaw basically on the floor.

His own gaze was unreadable – he watched you like a hawk as he approached the chair and draped the towel over its back, stuffing his hands in his pockets afterwards.

You snapped awake, glancing at the letters behind you, and then back at him. “You never opened them.”

“You need to forget me,” he spoke, staring directly in your eyes. “I’ve only have a few years left anyway, if I’m lucky.”

It hurt you how assured of his words he was as you turned your body from him, desperately trying to calm down. He stood there just the same when you dared to look at him again.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, failing to conceal the tremble that laced your voice. “I’ve told you countless times, I’m with you until the end, and even then.”

“That’s exactly why.” he raised his voice just a bit, reminding of the old Eren you used to know. “I can’t bear the fact that you’re okay with… all this.”

You covered your face with your palms momentarily before stepping a couple of steps closer to him. “Did you honestly think I’ll go down with this scheme of yours?”

“I’m determined to make it happen.”

“Eren, don’t be stupid!” you couldn’t control yourself anymore. “I’m not some… weak maiden in need of constant attention! I’m your partner!”

“You want to be partner of the monster that I am?” he asked, a faint hint of disappointment in his voice.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Eren…”

“I’m a murderer.” he said as he lessened the space between you a little more, trying to impose his truth on you – you could almost feel his breath on your skin, what made another shiver run down your spine.

You opened your eyes abruptly, because you knew he expected that you won’t be able to even look at him after what he’s done. His jade eyes were the same as before as you drowned in them.

You couldn’t help as you placed your dainty palms on his ripped upper arms, the tips of your fingers jolting with electricity. Eren felt that too, for you heard him draw in a sharp breath.

You were going to say something, but right now you couldn’t focus on anything other than your skins touching again, after all this time. You gulped as you gathered courage to lightly stroke down to his forearms.

“You’re not a monster.” you spoke again. “You’re just a hurt boy who can’t help but hurt others.”

He stayed silent, because he knew it’s true. You always did this to him – always had one last argument that made him shut up. His eyes became glassy as he looked down in shame, gripping your own forearms in his calloused palms.

“Come here,” you mumbled as you wound your arms around his neck, cradling him, as his own arms snaked around your waist, head buried in the crook of your neck.

You were only hugging, but it felt ecstatic. You gripped him tightly, swearing to yourself never to let go again. You felt a few wet drops run down your shoulder, yet Eren didn’t release a sound – you knew he was holding back.

“I’m sorry for everything.” he whispered. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Eren, you’re never getting rid of me.” you whispered into his hair before planting a tender kiss on his head.

He released a breathy laugh, tickling your neck. You nuzzled into each other more, and then you felt his lips on your neck, pecking it lightly, immediately blazing flames in your lower region.

You arched your neck back, providing him with an easier access to your skin. You couldn’t suppress a small gasp as his hot breath trailed up to your jaw, along with his longing-filled kisses.

“I missed you.” he whispered against your jaw, before pecking just below the corner of your lips.

Your mind was already in shambles. “Believe me, I missed you more.”

Your lips finally collided: desperate, needy, hungry. His fingers dug into your hips, aligning your centers as your palms slid down to the either side of his neck. You moaned into his lips between the famished, open-mouthed kisses as he gripped your behind, trying to savor it all.

Your palms were running down his chest on their own, exploring every crevice and scar, some old and some new, still unexplored. You felt his hand slide under the hem of your shirt up to your ribs, leaving a scalding-hot trail in its wake.

You rutted your hips against his automatically, getting needier with every passing second, your hands hooked around his neck again, holding on for dear life.

Your jaw slacked as he sneaked his hand under your bra, his fingers coming in contact with your hardened nipple. He drew back a little so that he could see your flushed face and hazy eyes, a light sheen of saliva reflecting from your slightly lolled out tongue.

“More, you say? Just how much?” he teased, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips repeatedly, the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly.

“Really, really much,” you whimpered before he discarded you of your shirt and bra, his hands roaming down your sides as he sucked on your jugular, your hands buried in his hair, ruining his bun.

“Jump.” he said between the wet kisses as you felt his hands under your thighs.

He made his way towards the bed before gently dropping you down on it, feeling the tent in his pants become unbearable, almost painful. How could it not, when you lay sprawled out under him, hair messy around your head like a halo, all the while needy breaths escaping your lips?

You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but you wanted to drive him crazy, to make up for all the painful time you’ve spent apart. You started wriggling out of your leggings, your gaze never leaving his eyes. He unbuttoned his own pants before they slid to the ground, revealing a formed tent under his boxers.

Suddenly, he grabbed you by your calves and yanked you closer, forcing a yelp from you. Second after his lips crashed on yours again, making their way down, passing your neck, collarbones, stomach, until they reached their destination.

You found it hard to breathe as he kissed your inner tight, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Eren,” you whimpered, your eyes closed, hands gripping the sheets. “Please…”

You felt him smile against your thigh before his tongue flicked against your clothed clit lightly, coaxing another high-pitched moan from you.

You put the back of your hand against your mouth quickly, embarrassed at the sudden reaction. You felt the bed shift before you opened your eyes and saw him parallel with your own body again.

“Don’t,” he asked as he removed your arm from your face. “I want to hear every little sound you make.”

He kissed you once before making his way back, hooking his fingers on your panties and sliding them down painfully slowly. The cold air on your skin peppered it with goosebumps, yet when you felt Eren’s face lower to your center, your body ignited once again.

A moan got stuck in your throat as you felt Eren’s slick tongue go all the way from your entrance to your clit, circling it, literally driving you crazy.

“Eren,” you moaned, the back of your head buried into the mattress as you wound your hands through his hair, completely ruining the bun, his chestnut hair falling to the sides and framing his face.

His fingers dug into your thighs as he pleasured you with his tongue, awakening the passion in you that was dormant during his absence.

Eren loved the taste of you on his tongue as he sucked on you, holding down your squirming hips. He knew you were close; he remembers everything your body language tells him.

“E-Eren, I’m gonna—” you choked out, confirming his observations.

You felt cold air hit your slick folds as Eren drew back, quickly discarding himself of his last piece of clothing before he leaned down, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Ready?” he breathed into your lips, receiving a nod.

The burning sensation followed his dick breaching your entrance, stretching it out after so long.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth, having forgotten just how good your pussy feels.

You choked out a groan as you wound your legs around his waist, urging him to plunge deeper, despite the slight pain that strains you.

“This good?” he asks between his heavy breathing as he makes his way deeper into you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod quickly, your voice out of tune.

He finally hits your cervix, staying like that for a few moments, allowing you to adjust, peppering your neck with kisses as your chest rises and falls heavily.

You kiss his lips as you place a hand against his buttocks, urging him to go on. He goes back to the point of pulling out before hitting you deep again, building up his pace as he does so.

Your mind is getting hazier with each thrust – it seemed that the room turned into a sauna as you could almost see the huffs of air that escaped both of your mouths.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he groaned against your ear as he pinned your hand above to your head, intertwining his fingers with yours.

He was barely controlling himself as your pussy clenched around him – he probably never had to restrain himself with you as he does now, regarding the absence of your touch for such a long amount of time. You’ve never been apart that long, and he hoped you’ll never be again.

“Eren!” you screamed, sensing your release fast approaching as you wound your hands around his neck.

He pounded into you hard, bringing some steamy memories of your times before for a moment.

Finally, you fell, arching your back, your stomach gliding against his, as every nerve of your brain exploded. Eren continued thrusting into you until a few moments after you felt his own release spilling inside you.

He moaned against the crook of your neck, planting a few kisses. He rolled to your side and faced the ceiling with his eyes closed, until they snapped open again, hearing you sniffle.

Guilt washed over him like a tempest as he leaned on his side, gently gripping your waist as you covered your eyes with the back of your forearm. “Did I hurt you??”

“No!” you yelped and removed your arm from your face, placing your palm on his cheek instead. For a moment you were so frightened he would blame himself for something he didn’t even do.

“No,” you repeated, more softly. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

He leaned his forehead to yours, worry leaving his body almost visibly. He sighed as he brought you closer.

You tucked a few of his locks behind his ear, making him look a couple years younger. “I love your hair.”

Eren chuckled, his eyes still closed in the afterglow bliss. “Captain hates it. He said –”

Then it dawned on him. “Wait, how did you get here?” he leaned on his forearm as he looked at you, genuinely interested, amusement threatening to widen his smile any moment.

“I simply asked Captain.”

Eren raised an eyebrow. “And he let you?? Just like that?”

“Well,” you trailed off. “He did mention something about a punishment for insubordination…”

“Unbelievable,” Eren whispered, as he sunk back into the mattress, quiet laughs emanating from his chest, as you drew shapes on it with a stupid smile on your face. “And you still came.”

“I’ll be fine if you visit me at least twice while I’m behind bars?”

You two laughed even harder, and this moment, this tiny moment in the vast space surrounding everything, was perfect.

love; defined — iwaizumi hajime

1.5k words | genre/s: fluff | warning/s: — | pairing: iwaizumi x gn!reader

↪︎ in which iwaizumi hajime is head over heels in love with you, but the only problem is that he can’t seem to get it out.

a/n: a bit anticlimatic and overall a very boring oneshot but my braincells are literally fried from school so take it easy on me :p this was also supposed to be a whole 8k words as promised months ago but i couldn’t seem to finish it for the life of me so here is the snippet that made the cut :)

falling in love with one of his best friends was something iwaizumi hajime wasn’t expecting to happen in the eighteen years that he lived in his life. then again, expectations are fickle—nothing more than a figment of imaginative serendipities that always fail to come true.

he watches as you fiddle with the foil wrapper of the chocolate he bought you this morning. he always passes by a local cafe on the way to school and you never fail to appear in his mind whenever he sees those godforsaken chocolates on the display window. usually, he wouldn’t give in to such pleasures of spending money on something that will disappear in two minutes, but the thought of seeing your excited smile receive them ultimately won him over.

and to what he assumed was just a friendly little gesture, was nothing more than his feelings in disguise. feelings of which weren’t even a thing he realized he had until oikawa pointed it out to him in the midst of his whining.

oikawa would always scoff with offense that iwaizumi didn’t know was false or not written all over his face. he would name all the incidences in which iwaizumi would always favor you a bit more over him, buying you useless little knick-knacks cause it reminded iwaizumi of you to remembering such intricate details about you that were so specific that even oikawa himself (who was confident he knew a lot about you) didn’t.

it was more or less evident to both you and oikawa that iwaizumi was not someone at all experienced in love. besides, whenever someone in the friend group had a little flair for romance, everyone would pitch in to help win the person’s heart over, but in this case, it was different. the boys couldn’t possibly let you in on the little secret of iwaizumi’s feelings for you.

it would ruin the entire surprise!

so without you—the mastermind behind most of your matchmaking endeavors—left oikawa to do all his biddings. and god forbid that he was in charge of how his best friend could possibly win you over. iwaizumi knew it was a recipe for disaster, but it’s not like he would be any better dealing with his feelings alone.

iwaizumi rubbed his perspiring hands against the cotton of his uniform trousers, feeling the burning heat of nerves from his hands through the fabric. body restless, his knee was jumping up and down beneath your desk, to which he was sitting across from you.

it was only ten minutes into your lunch break, and yet it felt like an eternity. he wasn’t sure if it was because his heart was beating as if he was running a marathon or if it was because of the odd silence in the air, whatever it was, iwaizumi just hoped it would die out soon. it wasn’t like he could make any small talk with you either. hell, you two have been friends since you were children, so not only would it not make sense, but he was also well aware of your mild distaste at the idea of small talk.

the idea that having to have less than meaningful conversation about the weather just to ease awkward tension was something you would always criticize in movies and tv shows. iwaizumi remembered your words that sometimes being in silence, especially with those you are most comfortable with, was so much better than small talk.

and iwaizumi was following that, sure, but he still couldn’t help but feel the urge to remedy that silence.

“iwaizumi-kun,” a voice calls out to him, breaking him out of his thoughts. that’s when he noticed that he was staring at you the whole time as you flicked a look at him before the girl towering over your sitting figures.

he clears his throat, sitting up a bit taller as he turns his attention to the girl next to him, “yeah, what’s up?”

she hands him a pile of stapled sheets, “sensei asked me to give this to you. he said he wanted the paperwork done by next week.”

iwaizumi nods, taking the thick stack within his hands with a smile. a small thank you leaves his lips before she walks away and back to her own friend group. pursing his lips together, he feigns a sigh when he realizes it’s going to take him ages to go through all of this, yet that wasn’t his main concern at that moment. the main thing he was worried about was the fact that you noticed him staring that entire time.

knowing you, you’d probably ask him something stupid like whether you had something on your face or if you looked weird.

you never did. you were so infinitely perfect to iwaizumi that he couldn’t even look you in the eye as his calloused fingers fiddled with the corners of the papers in his hand.

“you like shinohara-san, huh?” you asked out of the blue, a smirk melted upon your lips as your cheek rested against your palm. iwaizumi looks up at you at an instant with confusion wringing over him. you laughed, “i can tell, you know–by the way you looked at her then. you should probably ask her out before the year ends.”

his confusion doubles, “why would i do that?”

“come on, iwa,” you groaned as you rolled your eyes, “she’s been dropping hints all year, haven’t you noticed?”

iwaizumi thinks to himself for a few beats before ultimately shaking his head.

“you’re helpless. at this point, you may never date.”

his eyes track back to the girl a few feet away from him before looking back at you, “she’s pretty, but she’s not my type.”

“oh?” your curiosity was suddenly piqued, “then what is your type?”

iwaizumi presses his lips together as if he was truly thinking hard and deep about his answer when in reality his answer was right in front of him. he didn’t really have the courage to say that to your face though, your eye contact was enough to send his heart ablaze.

“i suppose someone who’s headstrong and a challenge,” he answers. not too vague and not too detailed.

“so…” you trail, brows meeting as the following name slipped off your tongue teasingly. “oikawa?”

iwaizumi practically chokes on nothing, “god, no definitely not him.” then again, if he truly thought about it, you and oikawa were so much more similar than he initially thought.

no wonder you two were his best friends.

“i love him and all, but i’d literally go insane if i did.”

you laughed, “i’m just joking. besides, if it’s not him then who do you like?”

“i wouldn’t say i have a crush exactly, just a... heavy attraction.”

lies, lies, lies.

he did have a crush that was so much more than attraction. you had to cut him some slack, though. he didn’t know what to say, and just like that he was put on the spot by the only one capable of rendering him speechless just by your presence.

“i say go for it,” you say suddenly.

iwaizumi’s eyes flicker to yours, wide and seemingly in shock. “go for what?” he feigns innocence.

“as in asking them out.” you add with a grin, “worst-case scenario they say no and you both move on with your lives.”

“that’s true, but i doubt it would be easy,” he shrugs.

you roll your eyes again, exclaiming, “come on, your iwaizumi hajime for fuck’s sake! you’re literally co-captain of seijoh’s volleyball team, who could possibly reject you?”

“probably this person...”

“lies,” you say, almost like a command. “you just don’t have any confidence in yourself.”

iwaizumi scoffs playfully. there was a look of amusement melting on his expression as he did so, “and how do you suppose the best way of asking a person out then?”

“personally, i like it when people are straight up about it. no beating around the bushing or planning some big extravaganza. but then again, i’ve never been asked out before so i wouldn’t really know.”

you say it so nonchalantly, iwaizumi wasn’t sure if you were bluffing or not.

“you haven’t?”

you pull a face when he says those words. “you say that as if we haven’t been best friends since we’ve been kids.”

iwaizumi lets out a laugh, shaking his head as he thinks of the right words to say. “no, i just find it a bit unbelievable at the number of people who are missing out on the best person in the world.”

heat rushes to your face then as you look away. “i doubt there would be any.”

“you’d be surprised,” iwaizumi says confidently, it warms your heart. he pauses for a second as the thumping of heartbeat drowns out his thoughts.

the words that were laid so carefully on his tongue, all ready to be said yet held back by his own second-guessing, had slipped between his lips before he could catch himself.

“what if i was one of those people?”

the corner of your lips melts into a grin, “as if.”

general taglist: @yongboxerrr @rosepetalhaven @tvwhoresblog @tanakaslastbraincell @kellesvt @kitsunetea @milktyama @anejuuuuoy @rinphobics @watariisbestboy @larkspyrr @miyadarling

Look at me - Spencer Reid x fem! reader

A/N: I've written a lot of Hotch content recently and as much as I love it, I felt like I needed to get some Reid in there as well. This was a bit rushed so sorry if there are any mistakes in there. Enjoy:)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of panic attacks/past trauma, toxic relationships

Word Count: 2462

***= time skip

Any details from a case are made up, not based on an actual episode.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

My mind is not something I ever thought I’d fear. I just assumed no matter how bad things got; I would be in control therefore it would never be anything I couldn’t handle. Even when I joined the BAU and was surrounded by harrowing cases all day, naively, I assumed I could keep on top of it. In case you hadn’t figured it out by now – I was wrong.

**********************************************************************

We all collapsed into our respective seats on the jet, none of us saying anything. This case had been particularly brutal, and it took a lot out of us. We had nothing to talk about besides the events of the past few days and no one wanted to think about it more than necessary. I took the first window seat I saw, grabbing a blanket and curling into myself. The sun was beginning to set and watching it above the clouds would bring me some sense of peace. As cliché as it sounds, being above the clouds and watching the light slowly sink beneath causing there to be an orangey glow – everything felt so quiet, so calm. As if I was untouchable, like nothing bad could reach me. As I starred out of the window, I couldn’t quite get comfortable. Normally after cases, I was able to fall asleep roughly half an hour into the journey home, but something was keeping me up. This must have shown on my face as I felt as soft jab to my side, breaking me from my thoughts.

“You good pretty girl?” Morgan asked, leaning on the edge of my seat.

“Hm? Yeah I’m all good. Just can’t sleep.” I said offering a small smile.

“I feel you. I’ve been trying since I sat down but I guess today just isn’t our day.” He replied sighing. “You need a drink or anything?”

“Nah I’m okay. Thanks though.”

“No problem gorgeous. Hope your able to drift off soon.” He said before heading to the back for a drink. I sighed, turning my body to face the window once again. But before I was able to get lost in my thoughts yet again, Spencer sat down in front of me. His brow was furrowed as his eyes scanned over me.

“You okay there?” I chuckled looking over at him.

“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” He replied matter of factly. I raised my eyebrow at him as I shifted to face him a little better.

“May I ask why?” I said in a light-hearted tone.

“Because you can’t sleep.” He stated. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that so I stayed silent, allowing him to continue. “You always fall asleep. You sit by the window, you curl up, and your asleep within 20 minutes. The only time you don’t is if someone’s talking to you. But no ones spoken to you until just now and your still awake.” He explained. I starred at him, in slight shock. “S-so I think what I’m trying to figure out is what’s keeping you awake? And see if you’re okay?” He concluded, suddenly looking rather nervous as if he was worried he’d overstepped.

“Look I’m sorry just pretend I didn’t say anything.” He said going to stand up. “

No hey it’s fine. I’m just surprised you noticed that’s all.” I replied quickly.

“Of course I did, I care about you.” I’m not sure why but that simple sentence caused my heart to flutter. Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve always appreciated the fact that Spencer is attractive (even if he doesn’t believe it) but I’ve never thought of him in a romantic light. Since I’ve joined the BAU, we’ve always been able to lean on each other no matter what the situation. There was just something about us that clicked almost perfectly, there was nothing I couldn’t tell him. And even though we constantly got teased about being together, I’d never even considered it.

“Your right though, something is keeping me up.” I admitted, leaning back into my seat.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Spencer offered, copying my actions.

“Yeah I’d love to. I just don’t know what it is. There’s something making me feel, I don’t know, uncomfortable I guess? But I haven’t got a clue what.” I rubbed my head as I spoke, feeling the beginning of headache starting to form.

“Oh.” He replied shortly. I could tell he was trying to figure out what it could be, but it was no use. “Is there anything I can do?” He asked. I smiled at him but shook my head.

“I’m afraid not pretty boy, I’m sure it’s nothing. Was just a hard case you know” He nodded.

“Well, if you remember, o-or even if you don’t and you just wanna talk, you know you can always come and find me.” Once again, I felt my heart flutter. Why was he making me feel this way all of a sudden?

“Thank you Spence. You too.” The rest of the journey went pretty smoothly. I didn’t fall asleep but for the most part, the uncomfortable feeling left me alone.

********************************************************************

“Okay guys, head home get some rest. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Hotch said as we made our way out of the parking lot. We all called out to each other before jumping in our cars and made our ways home. Even now, something was playing on my mind, and it was starting to piss me off. You’d think I’d be able to remember something that was bugging me this much. I tried to push it from my thoughts as I flopped onto my bed. I was so worn out I couldn’t even be bothered to change, I just wrapped myself up under my duvet and prayed that sleep would find me soon.

********************************************************************

“Come on y/n, you’re overreacting. You know I only did it because I love you.”

“How the fuck am I overreacting? I never remember asking you to bash someone’s head into the sidewalk out of LOVE”

“You know what? This is your fault. You made me do this.”

“I MADE you?”

“If you didn’t hang out with him dressed like such a slut I wouldn’t have had to do anything.”

“You’re joking right? God your fucking insane.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? Does it hurt your feelings?”

“Shut up you bitch.”

“I’m done with this. I’m done with you. I should have never gone out with you. I’m leaving”

“No you’re not.”

“Dan I swear to fuck if you don’t let go of my hand I am calling the police.”

I jerked upright. My skin was damp with a cold sweat. My heart was hammering against my ribcage. My head was spinning. I couldn’t breathe. The sheets clung to me as scrambled out of my bed and headed for the front door. My mind was scrambled, I couldn’t stay at home. There was only one place I knew I’d feel safe. I pulled my shoes back on and ran out my front door before I begun sprinting down the road. I didn’t trust myself to drive right now.

******************************************************************

As I walked up the stairs of the apartment complex, very much out of breath, I begun second guessing my idea. It was literally 3 in the morning. But before I could convince myself otherwise, I raised my hand to knock on his door. I shouldn’t be here. He was probably asleep. Just as I turned to leave, the door swung open.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” A very dishevelled looking Spencer asked.

“Um yeah, no I just- I’m sorry I shouldn’t have woken you” I replied, fidgeting with my hands.

“It’s fine I’d actually fallen asleep on the sofa, so you did me a favour if anything.” He said with a soft chuckle. I couldn’t focus on his words, my mind still spinning. I could feel my breathing begin to quicken again. I was losing it.

“Hey, what’s going on?” His voice sounded muffled, as if he wasn’t stood right in front of me.

“I-I can’t breathe” I stammered. My legs felt as if they were about to give way. Before I could do anything else, I felt spencer wrap his arms around me and walk me into his apartment. He moved me to the sofa before closing the door and sitting down in front of me.

“What’s going on? Please I want to help but I need you to talk to me.” His voice sounded sincere. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my thoughts.

“I-I knew him.” I stammered, my hands trembling.

“Knew who?” He asked gently.

“I dated him. I don’t remember him being violent but then this one time- oh god. It’s my fault. I did this. T-they died because of me.” By this point, tears were streaming steadily down my face.

“What? Y/N who died? What do you mean you knew him?”

“THE FUCKING UNSUB SPENCER” I yelled, hysterically. I ran my fingers through my hair frantically. “I dated him. Ages ago. I don’t know how I didn’t recognise him. I think, no no I know, I was his stressor.” I explained, breathing heavily. Spencer starred at me. You know it’s bad when you render the boy genius himself speechless. “There was this guy I was friends with at the time, while I was dating Dan.”

“The unsub?” He cut in.

“Yes. Anyway, I’d been friends with this guy before I’d met dan, but they’d never liked each other. And then one night, I’d gone out. It was some sort of occasion, like a celebration thing I don’t know it’s all a bit fuzzy. I was wearing a dress and it wasn’t anything too bad, but it was showing off a decent amount of skin. I don’t really know how but dan turned up where we were and beat the living crap out of my friend. He ended up going to hospital. But that was the last time I saw dan, I left him that night. That has to of been his stressor.” I concluded, resting my head against the back of his sofa.

“You know it’s not uncommon for the brain to repress traumatic memories. That would explain why you didn’t recognise him and why you don’t remember everything, even now. You were most likely in such a toxic, stressful relationship with him that your mind didn’t know how to handle it. So instead of causing you more pain by trying to make sense of it all, it simply pushed those memories back far enough until you’d essentially forgotten that part of your life.” Spencer explained. What he was saying made sense, I didn’t like it, but it made sense. I could barely remember my relationship with him. All the details were jumbled up in my head. “When we brought him in, seeing him in the station must have triggered you to remember him. Or at least parts of it.” I nodded at his words.

“Most likely.” I mumbled. I still couldn’t shake the thought that I’d caused all of this. The pain the victims went through, their families, their friends all because of me. As if he could read my mind spencer spoke up yet again.

“Stop blaming yourself. This isn’t your fault.”

“It is though. If I hadn’t-“

"It’s a chemical thing y/n. That part of him was always there, it just takes a certain situation to cause it to snap. I know it’s hard, but you have to remember that you did not cause this.” His words provided me a slight comfort. Not much, but enough for me to drop the subject.

“I’m sorry to have put all this on you this late.” I mumbled.

“Don’t be. I’m glad you felt you could talk to me about this.” He replied, shifting so he was sitting next to me rather than in front. We sat in a comfortable silent for a few moments, enjoying each other’s company. I tried to stifle a yawn but failed miserably.

“How did you get here? I didn’t see you with any car keys when you came in.” Spencer asked softly.

“I ran.” I admitted, to tired to lie.

“You ran? You live like 3 blocks away.” He said, surprised.

“I was just so shaken up I didn’t think I could drive.” I reasoned.

“You should’ve called me; I would have picked you up.” He replied gazing at me. I felt my stomach flip. I’m not sure if it was the lack of sleep, or the fact that I was only now realising how much he cared for me, but in that moment I felt nothing but love for spencer. I studied his facial features for a second, appreciating how attractive he really was. The way his eyes shone constantly with eagerness and knowledge. The way his brows twitched slightly if something confused him. My eyes eventually travelled down to his lips. They looked so soft and inviting. Suddenly, I found myself consumed by the desperate urge to kiss him.

“You’ve always been there for me you know spencer? I can’t tell you how much you mean to me.” I said softly. He looked slightly taken back by my words, but his lips curled up into a small smile.

“You mean a lot too me too. More than I could try to describe.” Before we realised what was happening, we found ourselves leaning closer into each other.

“Spence I-“ But he swiftly cut me off, cupping my face in his hands and pulled his lips to meet mine. My arms found their way round his neck as I laced my fingers into the back of his hair. He held me carefully, as if he was scared he was going to lose me. The kiss was gentle, but it spoke a million words for the both of us. When we eventually pulled away, he kept his hands where the were as he slowly caressed my cheek with his thumb. We didn’t say anything, we didn’t have too. We both knew where we stood and what this meant for us. I just smiled at him, feeling like a lovesick teenager. Eventually he layed back on the sofa, pulling me on top of him. I felt him wrap his arms around my waist protectively as I cuddled closer to him. I’d never felt more at peace than I did in that moment. It didn’t take long for me to start drifting off yet again, with the rhythmic beat of spencer’s heart and the feeling of him tracing small patterns on my back. I felt him press a kiss to my head.

“Sleep well. I won’t let anything happen to you ever again. I love you.” He whispered, just as I slipped away into the darkness of sleep.

Running An Art Shop With Minimal Crying 101

Hey y’all, not sure what compelled me to write this Now but I wanted to put together a list of helpful ‘good business practice’ tips for artists who want to start selling commissions on FR and want to build up a good reputation and make bank. I’m not sure if I’d feel comfortable throwing this on the forums personally so here you go, y’all have to look at my stupidly long possibly helpful brutally honest post cuz I don’t know where else to put this.

I’ve been doing art on FR since I was a young teenager in 2015 and through that time I’ve definitely learned some lessons the hard way. I’ve taken on more than I could handle, I’ve let commissions rot for months because I got overwhelmed… you know what I mean. Here’s some of what I’ve learned over the years that’s helped me run a consistently successful art shop for well over a year now.

I don’t have a tumblr and I don’t know how to add a ‘read more’ to a submission, so happy scrolling <3 I apologize for causing some people a very minor inconvenience

-Do not take prepayment for either more than three commissions at a time, or more than the number of commissions you think you can finish within a month or two, whichever is smaller. This is especially true if you’re like me and you have ADHD. Trust me, the more commissions people have already paid for you have piled up in your to-do list, even if they’d only take you 20 minutes each, you will get more overwhelmed and discouraged and people will wonder why it’s taking you so long. Even if you aren’t getting concerned PMs, a lot of people are just too anxious or polite to ask for updates. (On the flipside, if you commissioned someone and haven’t gotten any word/updates in a while, you’re not in the wrong to ask how things are going and when you can expect an update.)

-Full payment upfront is something I definitely recommend for smaller pieces (headshots, sketches, etc) you can finish in one sitting. However- if you’re doing a ref sheet, a rendered fullbody, etc, and you’ll be spending multiple sessions on the piece and getting feedback for it multiple times- split it up, take half upfront and half either after the sketch is approved, or before you send them the final unwatermarked version. I’ve done dozens of commissions like this and never had a problem, personally. There’s a low chance of a customer backing out on you if you’ve already started and sent WIPs because, y’know, sunk cost, and on the other hand it is reassuring to customers (especially if your shop is new) that if you drop off the map, they paid $20 upfront and got at least a sketch, instead of paying $40 upfront for an unfinished piece.

-In the same vein: if you’re doing a large piece like a rendered fullbody, ref sheet, etc, more communication is always better than less! I always stay on the safe side here. Some people will tell you they just want you to go apeshit and do whatever you think will look cool, other people might have much more specific ideas of what they want and how closely your artwork needs to match the image of their character in their head. Send them the sketch and ask them if they want any changes. Send them the lineart and ask if it looks good. If you’re working on a time-consuming painting that will take you weeks to finish, please please please, communicate! Send updates! Your customers will feel a lot less anxious about how long you’re taking if you keep them posted (plus this is just a personal thing but I love seeing peoples’ artistic process, it sparks joy!!)

-If, once again, you’re like me and stuff like painted fullbodies take you so much longer than other commission types- the worst thing you can do is underprice. Let’s say a detailed, shaded dragon fullbody takes you, for instance, 8 hours, maybe longer because you get burned out and can’t finish it in just one sitting, but you don’t think people will buy an $80/8kg fullbody. Do not lower the price you think your art is worth. If fullbodies take you really long compared to other art, or you get unmotivated, just… don’t offer painted fullbodies, or scenes with multiple characters, or whatever. If there’s a form of art you’re capable of creating but it’s faster, more fun, and gets you more money to do smaller things, just do more smaller commissions instead of taking the big ones. This one was a lifesaver for me.

-Once again in the same vein: It is okay to say no. Just because you are physically/artistically capable of drawing a detailed scene of multiple dragons with complex apparel, doesn’t mean you won’t get burnt out or bored. For me, larger pieces take exponentially longer because I just get bored and don’t want to work on them anymore. If someone asks if you can draw something that will require so much of your personal time and effort to go into a single piece, just say no. Sometimes I’ll say yes to some big commissions because I think the character is cool and inspiring and I want to draw them; otherwise, I will admit, I’ve said no to big commissions because I personally found the character boring as hell (though I wouldn’t phrase it that way). And that’s ok! 

-If you are going to be really busy in the near future, stop taking commissions. You have finals? Don’t say “sorry if things take forever, I have finals”… just don’t take the commissions while you’re busy. If you have too much on your plate, commissions will just stress you out more, and nobody likes to draw motivated by stress. There’s nothing wrong with temporarily pausing your art shop. Put your mental health first. And if you aren’t able to get commissions done on a regular basis because of mental health, or because you don’t give enough of a shit about other peoples’ characters: don’t do commissions. I don’t mean this in a bad way; I’ve been in that spot before and it’ll just cause more stress and guilt than it’s worth. 

-NO PARAGRAPHS. That sounds hypocritical of me writing this lol but do not put long paragraphs in your art shop, ever. I promise nobody will read it. Put your rules, and any other information, in bullet points that are one or two lines. Keep your rules clear, simple, unambiguous and short, or everyone will ignore it and I won’t blame them. Put titles and subtitles wherever you can. If you have a block of text longer than probably five lines, it will be ignored by most people. I have decided not to buy art from people because I didn’t want to have to dig through blocks of text for information.

….so yeah I think that’s about all I can think of at the moment. time to sit back and get yelled at for not being able to shut the fuck up and get to the point lol, hope you (yes you) have a great day c:

I just can’t help thinking it……

Whenever Jensen even kind of interacted with M or RA or stands he was roasted by the non heller fandom. He was “pandering” and “deserves the harassment he got if he was going to interact with them”. He was a bad guy, because he clearly didn’t care about the abuse the M nation hurled at Jared. He’s just a fame whore who wants his attention and money. I just don’t like hypocrisy. It seems all these things Jensen does are cardinal sins….. unless Jared does them. Then it’s fine, or we question if it was really him on his account 🤦🏻‍♀️ It’s the same as how people rail on M and how he’s the worst person (I tend to agree most of the time) and how they cannot respect this man….. but when it’s with Jared it’s “We love Mishalecki!!!”…… what?? Now, I don’t want either of them working with RA, or stands or M in any way because I think it’s all bull crap. But I respect that these guys do what they want! I have ZERO say in that, nor should I have any say. I’m probably wrong about some of my assumptions anyway.

I just feel Jensen can’t win. That’s why he stays out of everything. I believe he knows there is nothing he can do or say without fandom erupting. He seems to be the catalyst (unfairly to him most of the time) for all fandom drama.

You can totally trash this ask, I understand if you’d feel it’s too drama inducing. I don’t mean it to be, I’m just getting whiplash from all the back and forth takes. I was a JP fan first, then went to spn and really loved both the guys. The prequel crap didn’t really change my opinion of either guys, but it certainly changed my opinion of fandom. I thought I was in the moderate, rational fan corner. Turns out no such corner exists, unless you’re a staunch J2/wincest supporter. Gotta find me more of them on here…

I agree, yeah. Unfortunately, the hellers aren't the only part of the fandom that treat Jensen as if he's just a prop for their fave. They act like they're fans of both J2 or at least neutral towards Jensen most of the time, but then the literal second he makes a questionable decision, gets attention without Jared, or dares to not act like Misha has a communicable disease ... fan? Nah, fuck that guy.

The Misha thing is particularly dumb, because it makes this assumption that the actors are just as immersed in and primarily concerned with fandom as we are. Yeah, the hellers and minions are fucking obnoxious and Misha has actively encouraged them and I personally can't respect him for that, but come on. They really expect a professional actor like Jensen - especially considering how aloof he holds himself from fandom/social media unless he's promoting something - to make decisions about how he interacts with a coworker based on how a handful of batshit crazy shippers on the internet will react? That's weird, and honestly starts to wander into that creeptastic confusing-the-actors-for-the-characters and reinterpreting-reality-to-fit-a-narrative territory the hellers inhabit. "But but crazy people on the internet might assume he [supports D/C/hates Jared/is fucking Misha]!" is crazy people on the internet logic. Compare with: I know Dean directly says he's straight, but he looks at guys when he talks to them so how can we really know!?! It's absurd as hell for fictional characters, it's far beyond that for actual real life people none of us personally know.

As you say, if it was genuinely just about Misha being a terrible person, Jared wouldn't get a free pass to interact with him from the same fans. Or better yet, effusive praise of how he's such a saint to continue being friendly with Misha despite Misha's pandering/fans leading to him being attacked. Because with them? If it's Jared, of course it's all a-okay. It might take a hot minute to justify how, but it totally is. Anything Jensen does needs to be minutely dissected for how it could possibly impact Jared (even in a butterfly effect way) before judgement can be rendered. Which, to be clear, is not to say that I think Jared has done such terrible things or should be judged for Misha interaction. It's not at all about what the actors have or haven't done, it's the tone of the assumptions and excuses that get made. Especially when we have little or no details.

The thing is, in my experience? All the Jensen stans I've encountered that loathe Jared are pretty much up front about it (actual over-invested fans of Jensen, hellers are an entirely different beast). The what-you-see-is-what-you get of that generally just leaves me ambivalent. There are a lot of Jared ones who blend themselves into the J2 club until we have another blowup like the prequel mess, though. Like you, I keep ending up feeling blindsided and pissed off when the pretense of liking both is revealed for what it was and the hypocritical standards come out. Which is partially on me at this point, because it is a repeating pattern and I should know better than to expect better by now.

not sure if you’ve answered this before, but what’s your process look like when you make an amv? i’m just curious and in constant awe of ppl who can make videos like you do :)

hello all!!! i have answered this before and i have a vid help tag with other asks i’ve gotten about stuff like this! but i’ve gotten several more messages along these lines so i’m just going to answer a bunch of them together (under a cut since i love to ramble about editing lol). i do just wanna say i’m definitely not the authority on video editing and obv everyone has their own techniques!

edit: i just finished typing all this up and it’s SO long so sorry in advance LMAO god bless anyone who reads this entire thing

so i work in news tv and we have a very specific workflow for writing scripts, sourcing video, producing, and editing. i’ve just applied that to making amvs! for every video i make, i copy the song lyrics into a google doc and adjust them to match the song i’ve cut (i often will trim songs for time and/or content purposes). then i start planning! i’ll mark down what clip i want to use for each lyric next to that line, and any sound bites i want to use (with episode numbers!). i’ll color code between video and sound bites and lyrics, so my scripts end up looking something like this (for my honeybee amv):

doing the planning ahead of time makes everything much easier when it’s a video that spans the whole show or involves a lot of sourcing, like honeybee or sports analogies. that way when i get to the actual editing process, i already know what i’m going to do and have a game plan. for videos like happy ending or believe it or not, where i’m mainly just pulling from a few episodes, i can just plan it in my head as opposed to writing it all down, and produce as i edit. obviously i do make in-the-moment decisions while editing—sometimes a shot doesn’t work the way i thought it would, or i go where the video takes me—but planning ahead definitely helps. i know some people use spreadsheets as well, with columns for lyrics, video clips, and sound bites if applicable. once you find a system that works, it actually goes pretty quickly.

as for sourcing clips themselves/finding clips within episodes, i talked about that here and kind of here. the short version is that transcripts are a must, and the supernatural wiki is hugely helpful by cataloguing all the hugs, prayers, phone calls, etc. in the show. gifmakers that tag episode numbers on their posts are your friends. it gets easier the more video you make—that’s another huge reason i make the google docs for each video (even the ones i plan in my head, i end up going back and making a loose script with episode notes just for reference). if i can’t remember where something is but i know i used it in another video, i can easily reference past scripts!

i also cut all my videos in the same project in premiere pro, so i can flip between them easily. instead of checking a past script, i can just go to the video sequence itself and copy the clip i’m looking for! this was especially helpful when i match cut together the 5x18 and 4x22 wall slam shots for my bestie video, and then stole it from myself for honeybee hahaha. at any given time i have at least 8 sequences open:

because of the sheer volume of videos i make, it’s worth it for me to download the entire show—i have all 327 episodes in HD, plus deleted scenes. if you think you’re only going to make a few videos, i’d start with scene packs. you can usually just google “destiel [or whatever ship/character you’re looking for] scene packs” and there will be any number of ones you can download. if you need other specific scenes, you can always download/torrent individual episodes or screen record netflix (that’s what i did before i got HD download links). i’m happy to share my links if you DM, but be warned it’s a lot of disk space (about 500GB on my hard drive). someone also compiled every destiel scene, downloadable here.

having every episode already loaded in premiere for all my projects also makes it a lot easier to source clips. once i use a clip in a video, i’ll put a marker on the episode file, so that after a while i have most of the important scenes/lines marked to easily find them. to give you an idea, this is my episode file in premiere for 12x10 lily sunder has some regrets (markers at destiel scenes, the car fight, hot girl cas, etc.). markers are the green tabs along the bottom:

premiere also lets you color code and name markers, so ONE DAY i will go back and color code them all. the ones above are all the same color, but in a perfect world, i’d have a myraid—for destiel shots like hugs, touches, looks; for important pieces of dialogue; for action shots; etc. but for now this works ok for me, so that’s a project for another time!

between detailed scripts, one giant premiere project, markers, the wiki, and my own memory, i have so many points of reference that i can usually find any clip i need in about 2 minutes max. sound bites are often harder to start out, or tiny specific shots i haven’t used before, and that’s when i turn to tumblr gifsets or beloved mutuals to crowdsource. but if you’re as obsessive about marking/keeping neat scripts as i am, it gets easier and easier with every video you make. that’s part of why i’m able to cut videos together so quickly. (also i want to stress i do this for a living and have to produce/edit a new piece for my show every day so i’m used to it. and compared to constantly updating content/sources and news that changes every day, 327 highly documented episodes that never change are much easier to handle hahaha)

this is all great for me since i make so many videos and plan to continue doing so, but if you’re only making a few, this level of work isn’t worth it imo. really it’s all about developing a system that works for you. whatever you do with episodes/sourcing, though, i cannot recommend planning things out in a script ahead of time enough. 

everything i just mentioned is producing, though. for the editing process, i usually do it in this order:

music first. any parts i want to cut, i make sure it all sounds smooth

then soundbites. i usually try to weave them into the lyrics—i have characters talk in breaks between lines or instrumental sections as much as possible. i’ll sometimes go so far as looped/extending an intsrumental part to make room for the soundbite i want there lol. if i do have dialogue over a line, i do the sound mixing/levels at this point as well to make sure everything is audible/one doesn’t overpower the other. (also i always include the video that goes with these bites when i drop them in, and decide later if i want to show the character speaking or have other clips cover the dialogue)

once i have all the audio locked in, then i bring in all my other video clips. sometimes i edit completely chronologically, sometimes jumping from section to section—it depends on the song or how i’m feeling

double check sound mixing. i usually listen to my videos through a few times, with headphones and without to make sure it’ll sound good no matter how people watch it

once i have picture and audio lock, i go through and color correct my clips. i’m basic and just use lumetri color in premiere, and usually just play with brightness, saturation, temperature, and tint until i like it

render and export! :)

i always have several audio tracks, but i try to keep my video tracks condensed. i’ll drop clips on a V2 level, and edit a section there, and drop the whole chunk down to V1 so i know it’s finished. that way when i leave and come back i can know where i left off/what’s done/etc. to give you an idea, this is the timeline for my what the hell video:

i always render as H.264 with high bitrate, and make sure to check “render at maximum depth” and “use maximum render quality” for the best quality. i’m sorry, but i don’t know what the equivalent options are in final cut, imovie, kdenlive, etc. i post on youtube mostly so i don’t have to sacrifice quality, but usually just using a lower bitrate will get you under the tumblr file size limit and it’ll still look good.

as for the anon who asked about “polishing”: first of all, thank you!! second of all, it’s in the details. all of this is a matter of taste and my own insanity, but here are some little things i always try to do:

after i color correct, i blur out any credits from the starts of episodes. i use gaussian blur for this, but really any blur tool works

as much as possible, i avoid clips where we see a character’s mouth move but don’t hear the words. in tv/film we call it “lip flap” and i just think it looks messy. also i’m trained to avoid it at all costs at work hahaha. it’s more for serious videos that this matters a lot to me (e.g. i think i did a really good job eliminating lip flap in my happy ending amv)—for comedy videos i don’t sweat it as much

i put audio fades on the start and end of every single audio clip i use, even if i don’t think i need it, to make sure everything sounds smooth

i use markers for timing, especially in action-y videos like what the hell. i’ll put a marker on the clip i’m using at the exact moment a punch lands, and in the song on the beat. if i have the magnet/snap in timeline tool on i can just easily snap them together instead of having to spend time finagling it

this is such a small thing but i dip/cut to black for a tiny bit at the start and end of every video. this way if i post with tumblr video player, there’s black between the loops, and it gives you a beat before the video restarts. i do this even on videos i post on youtube, just because i think it looks nicer/more professional

this is 1,500 words so i’m going to stop myself before i pull something. if you have follow-up questions feel free to ask and i’ll continue to add them to the vid help tag, but any more questions about sourcing clips or my process in general i’ll just link this post going forward. anyone who made it this far, i am sending to a telepathic kiss. thank you for reading and happy editing!

BTS DRABBLE-Jungkook

When your vampire boyfriend admits that he doesn’t know what he looks like, you’re completely flabbergasted. I mean, it makes sense, he doesn’t have a reflection. But you’ve never thought about how he just hasn’t ever seen himself-not in a mirror, or a picture, or even a passing car window. And suddenly, you have an important mission-though you’re no artist, not by any means-you’re determined to draw him as you see him. So he can see himself for once, even if it’s just through your eyes. 

Tags: BTS. Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS Drabble, Fluff, Vampire!BTS, Vampire AU, Vampire!Bangtan, Boyfriend AU, BTS x you, BTS x reader, Jeon Jungkook, Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook x you, Jungkook x you, Jeon Jungkook x reader, Jungkook x reader

Genre: Fluff

Title: Through Your Eyes

“Wait, wait, wait.” You sit up, eyes wide, mouth still open, voice laced with honest and shocked surprise. You glance down at the boy still lying on the living room floor beside you, watching you with a slightly amused expression on his beautiful features, and cannot believe you head him right. “So you really honestly have no idea what you look like.” 

Jungkook shrugs casually, as if it’s no big deal. “Nope.” 

But it is a big deal. 

“So you’re telling me-” You cross your legs beneath you and stare down at him hard, trying to compute what he’s telling you and how he’s so relaxed about it all. “You’ve gone your whole life never seeing yourself.” 

“Correct.” Jungkook does that cute, quick little nod of his head that you love, the one that purses his full lips and sends his dark hair bouncing into his caramel eyes. “Vampires don’t have reflections, babe.” He grins at you, the smile lighting up his face, as if he wants to laugh that you haven’t realized this and put two and two together. 

“I know, I know.” You wave your hand in an agitated motion. “I’ve heard that. I know that. But-” You stop for a minute, brows furrowed and lips pursed as you continue to mull over what your boyfriend has just told you. “I’ve just never actually thought about what that meant.” 

Jungkook sits up beside you now, a slight smile still curling his pink lips, and mirrors your position, crossing longs beneath him as he faces you, reaching out to take your hands in his own as he squeezes your fingers reassuringly. “It’s fine, babe. It’s not a big deal. I’ve never been curious enough to care.” 

You cannot believe him. 

Not wanting to know what you look like? Impossible. 

And yeah, maybe you care a little bit too much about what others think about you, but still, Jungkook is being way too nonchalant about this. Right? 

“But you’re so pretty.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself, admiring the way his black hair falls across his forehead, the perfect flow of his flawless tan skin across his bone structure, the contrast of his white straight teeth and pointed fangs against the rose, plump skin of his lips. 

“Ahhhh, babe.” Jungkook replies teasingly, reaching out to poke the end of your nose with his pointer finger, as he flashes you another white, blinding grin. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“Shut up. This is important.” You snap back, and he tries to hide the smile behind a dramatic serious expression that has you fighting back your own desire to giggle and grin. 

A light bulb clicks on in your brain, and has you scrambling to your feet, leaving Jungkook looking after you with a slightly surprised expression on his beautiful face, as you dart down the hall to the bedroom, calling over your shoulder, “Hold on. Stay right there.” 

You reemerge a moment later, a notebook and pen clutched in your hand, and settle back onto the floor facing him, movements determined and focused as you whip open the book to a clean page of paper and click the pen into a ready position. 

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, thoroughly bewildered. 

“Shhh.” You hush him, and reach out to take his chin in your fingers, positioning his head in such a way that it’s easier to see all his features in the sunlight coming in through the apartment window. “Hold still. Don’t talk. Don’t move.” 

Your boyfriend does as he’s told, clamping his jaw closed and sitting as still as possible. 

There is silence in the room for what feels like hours, as you attentively focus on the page before you, swirling the pen across the blank canvas, and only sometimes glancing back up to your muse before you resume your work. 

Jungkook-to his credit-doesn’t ask anymore questions, and is actually a pretty good model-remaining in the same position-until you finally click the pen closed and sit back with a sigh. 

“Done.” You announce, hiding the page from his view, as you glance once more over your labor of love. 

You’re not an artist-not by any means-but as you let your eyes flick from the page to the boy in front of you, even you have to admit, you didn’t do a half bad job. 

The drawing on the page is most definitely one Jeon Jungkook

“Shit, I thought my jaw was gonna clench up if I had to sit still for one more minute.” Jungkook lets the words explode from his mouth as he releases the breath he had been holding, reaching up to massage along his sharp jawline with his fingertips. “Are you gonna tell me what that was all about?” 

“You’ve never seen yourself.” You say mysteriously, and bite back a smile as Jungkook rolls his eyes in a good natured sort of way at your vague statement. 

“Right.” He leans back on his hands and stares at you, one dark brow raised in your direction in an obvious expression of bemused exasperation. “We’ve established that.” 

“So-” You glance down at the paper once more, held close to your chest, before you sigh and push it in his direction. “I wanted to draw you. So you can see yourself. At least once. Even if it’s just through my badly rendered impression.” 

Jungkook’s large eyes widen even further if possible as surprise flashes across his face, long fingers brushing yours as he reaches out to take the shyly offered piece of paper. His mouth parts slightly-revealing the sharp tips of his fangs-as if he wants to say something, but can’t think of the words, so he simply lets his gaze drop to the drawing instead. 

You watch him carefully, feeling your cheeks flush slightly, as he intensely studies your caricature in pregnant silence, dark eyes sweeping slowly and meticulously over each detail. 

The large, doe eyes-almond shaped and rimmed with dark lashes-that you love so much, because you can see every emotion he’s ever felt swirling within the black of the blown pupil-as if they’re a window to his heart and soul. 

The perfect slope of his nose that ends just above his full, plush, pink lips-the same lips that part to reveal white, gleaming teeth. 

The same teeth that are one of your favorite parts of him, because when he smiles, they push forward like an adorable bunny, a testament to his happiness and the joy he feels in any given moment. 

The dark, thick hair that falls across his forehead like he has been sculpted by marble-soft and shiny and so fluffy that you always want to have your fingers buried in it-only slightly softening the sharp angles of his high cheekbones and knife like jawline. 

Your heart is pounding now, because it’s been several moments of silence, and you’re worried suddenly that Jungkook thinks you’re crazy, drawing him in such a way that clearly and loudly screams Hey, I’m insanely in love with you!

“Do you-” You start to say, and your words stutter to a halt, because he looks up at you sharply, as if he’d forgotten you were there. You force yourself to continue, swallowing hard. “Do you like it?” 

“Yeah.” He nods, and the word is muted, as if he can’t quite get it to leave the tip of his tongue. He glances down once more at the paper held carefully in his hands. “Do you really see me like this?” 

“I mean-” Your cheeks flush hot and red, and you flick your gaze away from his own as he meets your eyes once more. “I did my best to be accurate but I’m not an artist and I’m not sure if I did a good job-” 

“(Y/N).” 

Your eyes startle upward to his at the serious use of your first name, and it is so rare for him to say it, that you have to remind yourself to breathe as your eyes meet his own dark, unreadable ones, fingers twisting nervously in your lap. 

“Yes?” 

He cocks a brow at you, and holds up the drawing, and you can barely bring yourself to look at it now. “I didn’t ask if this is accurate. I asked if this is really how you see me.” 

“I-” You try to think of how you can play it off, how you can make it into a joke, but the way he’s looking at you makes you answer simply and honestly. “Yes.” 

There is another brief pause in between the two of you-as if the world is holding its breath-and you know, you just know in your gut, that Jungkook is going to call you out, going to acknowledge the fact that the drawing-still held in his hand-lays bare all of your unsaid feelings for him. 

But instead, his eyes crinkle, and his lips part, and his bunny teeth emerge in a large grin, as he glances once more at the picture, before saying lightly, “Wow. I really am pretty.” 

You laugh-and it’s breathless and slightly relieved-and nod. “See. I told you.” 

Jungkook stands, reaching out his free hand to help you up off the floor. “I love it. Thanks, babe.” He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, and you let yourself relax into him for just a second, content in that moment, that he knows everything now, including what he looks like. 

“You can throw that away.” You say shyly, cheeks still warm, as you glance down at the paper still held in his other hand. 

“Are you kidding me?” Jungkook glances over at you with wide eyes. “This is the only portrait I’ll ever have of myself.” He tugs you toward the door, already reaching for the car keys where they hang on the wall. “Shit, we’re going to Hobby Lobby right now to get this masterpiece framed. I’m gonna hang it on the wall in our bedroom.” 

You laugh and he shoots you that adorable grin you love, all front teeth and fangs, and you’re giddy almost, with the fact that Jungkook seems to be happy with the fact that he has now finally seen himself. 

Even if only through your eyes, and the love that lives there. 

Slide in the wall

Word count: 1418     

Genre: I guess fluff but this is super random

Pairing: Platonic!Tony x reader (with some Pepper at the end)

Warnings: Swearing but in a friendly way (let me know if I need to add more)

Request: ... and this ones pretty vague but i just cried over a stark!reader after tony died so would love anything fluffy tony!

Summary: Tony and the reader find plans that they made while drunk and decide to build them without the permission of Pepper.

A/n: This request was for @casperlikej​ so I hope you like it. If I’m going to be completely honestly I don’t even know what I wrote here and it’s probably trash but whatever, I hope everyone enjoys anyways. It was also my first time writing for Tony so I don’t know how well I did but again, this isn’t meant to be a super serious fic, it’s very lighthearted fun. 

“How did you think that date was going to go well? It was at a seedy bar!” Tony asks you incredulously. 

“I was desperate.” You answer honestly.

“Why, because you haven’t gotten any action in months?” Tony mocks.

“Oh fuck off.” You tell him while holding up your middle finger behind her with one hand as you continue to work with your other. 

“Excuse me, is this how you speak to your boss?”

You laugh, “So you’re the boss of the avengers now? Besides, we both know you’re only the boss of anything on paper, if you wanted to fire me you’d have to go through Pepper first.” He opens his mouth to protest but you shush him. 

“Don’t shush me.” You ignore his warning and shush him again, holding out an architecture design you had just found buried beneath some folders. He grumbles and takes it but when he looks at what it says his annoyance disappears. You smile as you see him read the page that details exact plans of how to install a slide from the top floor where both your rooms are, all the way to the labs in the basement with multiple places to get on or off in between. 

“When did we make this?”

“I don’t know,” you respond, shrugging, “maybe while we got drunk a few nights ago?”

“That makes sense but this plan is good, even if we were wasted when we made it, we have to do this.” He says and you nod in agreement, knowing that he is serious and fully on board with the plan. 

“But we can’t let the others know because they would stop us,” you tell him, “and we need to do it before Pepper gets back from her business trip or else she’ll figure it out.” 

“We need to start now.” He agrees while calling a screen from Jarvis and pulling up some materials to buy. With Jarvis’s help it only takes a few minutes to decide which ones would be best to buy because Jarvis compared all of the different compagnies and figured out the best quality materials. You then move onto finding a team of workers who would be willing to work in secret to install the slide but it isn’t as hard as it sounds because Tony just promises to pay them ten times their normal hourly price so they agree easily. The rest of the day is spent improving the plans and figuring out how to keep the other avengers occupied so nobody notices. 

---

The next day you wake up early to go down to the labs and make sure all the materials and workers are ready. When you get down you find Tony is already there, explaining everything to the workers to make sure everything runs smoothly. The workers look weirded out by what they are being asked to install and the manner they are being asked to install it in but don’t question him because they are thankful to be paid this much. 

“Hey Tony,” you say as the workers disperse to get on with the day, “ready to distract the team?”

“Of course,” he replies, “keeping them off of the top ten floors shouldn’t be too hard, even if it is where their rooms are because I booked us a full day meeting with Fury to go over whatever he wanted, I didn’t pay attention to what he said.”

You groan. “Was there seriously no other way? I swear that man makes his meetings boring on purpose just so he can yell at us when we fall asleep.”

“Are you still mad about that? It happened two years ago.” You don’t have a response to that so you just stick your tongue out at him. He laughs at you as he starts walking out of the lab. “By the way, we’re both already late.”

“Fuck you!” You yell after him as you rush to catch up.

---

A week later and all seventy floors had been completed so the slide ran from the top floor to the labs with a place to get in and out at around every ten floors. Somehow none of the other avengers had noticed that on one of the far walls of each floor there was a jut out that hadn’t been there before, some of the jut outs even having doors. As soon as you say thank you to the workers and they leave, you and Tony rush up to the top floor to try the slide out. 

Both of you want to go first so you sit on the edge while Tony sits behind you, wrapping his legs and arms around you in a way that reminds you of doing this with your brother on the playground as kids. As soon as he is secured you push off, gliding down. It’s just as fun as you imagined and works perfectly, slowing down at every exit just enough for you to grab a bar to stop yourself, before speeding back up again. It takes almost a minute for you to make it all the way down, plopping onto the mattress Tony had the foresight to set there. You turn to each other with huge smiles and excitement shining in both your eyes. 

“Again.” You both say simultaneously, racing to get up the stairs. You were about to get on the elevator on the first floor when something made you pause.

“What is this?” Pepper’s shrill voice rang out. Tony gulped and you both creep to the room where the other avengers stood in fear of her and peek your heads around the doorway. If you hadn’t also been scared you would have been amused by the sight of the world’s greatest heroes rendered speechless by a normal businesswomen. 

Natasha speaks first. “I have no idea, I didn’t notice but I can assure you I had no part in whatever somebody did to change the shape of the room.”

“I trust you,” Pepper says, “Besides, Tony and Y/n are the only ones who are suspiciously not here.” After she says that you both pull your heads back. 

“I’m blaming it on you.” Tony says. 

“Me, no, I’m blaming it on you! You paid for it!”

“Yeah well you had the idea.” He accuses.

“No I did not!” You defend yourself although you don’t even know who made it since you were both drunk. 

“Fine, maybe you didn’t but you showed me the design when you could have just thrown it away.” 

“Oh like you would ha-”

“You two are not as quiet as you think.” Pepper says, cutting you off. “Now come out so I can talk to you properly.” You step timidly into the room, pushing Tony in front of you. 

“Hi sweetheart.” Tony says weakly, with a guilty smile. 

“Don’t sweetheart me. I want to know why the room is a different shape!” Pepper yells while the team snickers at your misfortune. 

“Are you sure the room hasn’t always been this way? I for one don’t notice a difference.” Tony says, playing dumb.

“You know that would be a lot more convincing if the paint colours were the same on the new walls as they are on the old ones.” Pepper says, looking completely done with Tony.

“How was I supposed to know there are different versions of white?” Tony asks her, ignoring the dangerous flash in her eyes. 

“Tony…” she practically growls, “why did you do this?” He nudges your side for you to respond instead of him. 

“We built a slide to the labs.” You tell her. 

“So let me get this straight,” she says, pretending to think out loud, “you two added a slide from here to the labs, renovating the floors without consulting me?” You and Tony look at each in horror. If she was this upset about one floor, she would undoubtedly be pissed once she found out the full length of the slide. 

“SoactuallytheslidegoesfromthetopfloorallthewaytothelabsI’mverysorryIloveyou. (So actually the slide goes from the top floor all the way to the labs, I’m very sorry, I love you)” Tony said all in one breath before running away pulling you after him.

Pepper stands shocked for a second but as you get further away you hear her yell something indistinguishable. You feel a little bad and you can tell Tony does too but after a lot of begging and making up for it Pepper will forgive both of you and besides, the slide was totally worth it.

A Still Beating Heart. Yan Alucard x Reader [COMM]

warnings: isolation and mentions of blood word count: 2k

To free yourself from the clutches of your room means to explore this archaic mansion, in search of some form of solace. 

The hallways are long-winding, foreboding. Drawn curtains block out sunlight’s kiss, leaving naught but sinister shadows at the end of each hall, indecipherable to the naked eye. Wood in colors consisting of rich hickory are present at every turn, impeccably clean and detailed in their carvings. Atop antique sideboards sit various trinkets, surely a finding any archaeologist would die to examine. You’ve been told that what’s his is yours, to help yourself to any treasures that capture your eye. What use are the finest, exotic luxuries from centuries past in a prison like this? 

Candlelight guides you on your way, though you worry it’s damaging your eyesight. Squinting has become far too common for your liking, to make out where it is you’re going is a challenge when natural light is forbidden. Old floorboards creak underneath your tentative steps, leading you to inhale sharply. Does it even matter if you make a noise that could possibly alert him? Even now, your gut warns that there is another set of eyes set upon your figure. Watching as you weave in and out of rooms in search of entertainment, internally snuffing out sinister intentions that you draw out like water from a well. 

The fear of being watched, studied like an animal in a cage while remaining none the wiser to the horrors in the walls has faded with time. Birthed from a primitive drive centered around preservation of the self, to keep your sanity in a delicate balance. Every flicker of candlelight, that cast shadows upon its surroundings, used to frighten you. To the point any sign of movement, any sound without an immediately identifiable source, would render you inconsolable. Now, you choose to pay it little mind, having grown acquainted with the unknown. 

Your destination has been reached, lithe fingers wrapped around the silver candlestick placing it down on a nearby wooden console. The door is unlocked, opening easily at your prompting, candlestick back in hand to illuminate the seemingly unending maze of bookshelves. A sigh of relief makes its way past your lips, grateful for the reprieve before you. Entertainment is sparse, reading one of the few reliable sources of passing the time. How thoughtful of him to grant this sparse freedom, bitterness growing inside you like a thorn covered vine. 

Fingertips brush over the spines of numerous books, and you closely examine the detailings of each one. The languages you can recognize are few and far between, from Romanian to Turkish. Reading in a language you can’t understand will do you no good, so you settle upon one of the few English titles. The Castle of Otranto, a seemingly fitting read for the macabre atmosphere that surrounds. Making yourself comfortable on a nearby love seat, you once again place the candlestick down and open the book on your lap. The sensation of hardened paper against your skin brings with it, among other things, familiarity. Black ink captures you, sending you into a world far away from here. Some realities are too good to be true, and your little escape is spoiled before it ever truly begins.

“I never seem capable of guessing which one you will pick.” 

A natural reaction to a new sound, your head lifts in search of identifying the direction it reverberates from. The deep, rumbling voice has no single point of origin, instead encompassing you from every corner of the library. How many times has Alucard played this game with you, and how many times will you allow him to? It’s not entirely possible for you to control every aspect of human biology, you’re incapable of stopping how your pupils dilate and the goosebumps that dot your skin. He goes beyond any understanding, transcending into the throes of unnatural. An uncanny valley, where you can almost place your finger on it, but it remains far too murky to know for certain. 

In his presence, there will be no enjoying the pleasures of reading, so you shut the book. “Then you must not know me as well as you claim.” 

His laughter starts softly. An unholy sound that colors the depths of your soul with dread, like a single drop of dark ink into formally purified water. With every second that progresses at a sluggish pace, his amusement corrupts you further, until there’s nothing left to do but glare defiantly at the empty spaces around. If he wants to play coy, taunting you from a distance, then so be it. Exchanges like this that left you a nervous wreck have become commonplace. In the recesses of your mind, a temptation blooms to slander him as a coward. For not materializing into physical form, in fear of the onslaught of your scrutiny that would lash out. But you know the unpleasant truth, he has nothing to fear from the likes of you. 

It's for the sake of your fragile psyche he often chooses to remain out of sight. 

How belittling, you think. That he should place you on a pedestal high enough to consider your mental well being, but still sees fit to keep you under lock and key for himself. Lamenting about your predicament has never filled the void in your heart he tore out, so you push the thoughts as far down as you can. Your mouth is settled into a straight line, head resting atop your fist. If he’s going to poke and prod from afar, the least he can do is dignify you with eye contact. 

Looking at the last spot his voice resonated from, your eyebrows knit together with irritation. “Come out already. Stop playing these trifling games.” 

The loose strands of hair that frame your face are pushed back, by wind of no identifiable origin, chilling your body to the bone. You hug the sides of your bare arms, cursing yourself for picking a flimsy nightgown to wear, the temperature of the room dropping unnaturally. Flicks of ebony and crimson appear by your side, slowly but surely taking the silhouette of a man. The height difference between you two is always unsettling, no matter his claims of never harming you. Eyes that have seen centuries of conflict blink, pallid flesh becoming a physical reality and filling out into a face. This sight is one you’ve bore witness to many times, and each time you feel further from God, like you’re seeing something you shouldn’t be. A deeply forbidden and imposing evil. 

“I’ve done as you’ve asked, there’s no need to glare at the wall anymore.” 

Not seeing an advantage in offering a response, you choose to ignore the comment. “What is it you want, Alucard?” 

Your own tone is exasperated, words cutting straight to the heart of the issue. He takes note of this immediately, and you come to regret your uncharacteristic impatience. Eyelids fluttering shut for a moment to regain your composure, you see him staring down at you with an unreadable countenance once they reopen. There’s a pressing issue on his mind, you know as you’re the centerpiece of it. He must not intend on bringing it up just yet, instead paying heed to the book you picked out. 

“Do you find the selection agreeable?” 

A low hum leaves your lips at the question, and you consider it, before offering an honest opinion. “I can’t read most of the books here.” 

“Should I translate them for you? Or, perhaps, teach you the languages themselves?” Alucard offers after a moment’s deliberation, and you find it strange. The version of him that sits beside you now, consulting you like it’s a normal conversation. As if the hands that stay by his side haven’t been tainted with the blood of thousands, instead taking an almost considerate approach in speaking with you. You can’t claim to understand how a monster such as Alucard became so beguiled by your existence, and something tells you he doesn’t understand it himself.

“There’s no need.” 

Your voice lacks the force it normally exerts, body feeling as if it’s growing further from you. Subconsciously, your hand raises to the side of your head, grimacing at the pounding ache that’s growing stronger by the minute. Acting like nothing is wrong is a feeble effort anyways, he’s already caught onto your dilapidated state. It doesn’t matter how cautious you had been in disposing the blood set aside for your consumption, it was only a matter of time until it’d catch up with you. The hand that remains free goes to the cushion of the couch, fingers entrenching themselves into the fabric and ripping it in the process.

“How long have you gone without it?” He finally stops dancing around the sore subject, much to your chagrin. Alucard sounds exasperated, and if it weren’t for endangering predicament, you might feel a hint of pride. To procure any reaction from him that goes against his wishes is a victory, as far as you’re concerned. Petty as it may be, he himself is far worse. So you relish in the knowledge that you’ve made him miserable, even if it can never match the amount he has inflicted on you. 

The world as you know it is growing unsteady, even as you sit perfectly still. A taboo longing constricts your body, muscles taut and chest heaving. “I lost track.” 

It’s an honest admission. Your little sideshow of rejecting what keeps you alive -- if you can even call this state of being that -- has been ongoing for a while now. An act of defiance to spite Alucard further, that still doesn’t fill you with enough satisfaction. It’s a regret to know that nothing will ever fulfill you, nothing but the ambrosia of freedom, too sweet and out of reach for you to taste. The shadow of a life you now live has ensured that, a nightmare bestowed upon you by Alucard’s innate need. 

“This isn’t even the worst of it,” he lowers his voice, speaking with such delicacy it makes you sick to your stomach. “Should you choose to stay like this, you’ll feel misery beyond words. Give up this futile act of defiance.” 

He speaks right next to you, inches from your ear, but it doesn’t properly register. Emotions haunt you like a curse, a spectrum of despair to raw want. You want blood. You want the taste of iron to lavish itself upon your tongue, temporarily filling the hole of animalistic hunger that you can no longer push down. It’s a flame that’s lit within you, and there is no further hope in extinguishing it. Your own thoughts are replaced by a need to survive, your hands moving without your prompting. 

By your side, he has nicked his finger, liquid crimson falling like a waterfall from heaven. There are no signs of your own self, autonomy thrown to the side. Your soft, paling lips, latch onto the source of vitality. Alucard watches wordlessly, an emotion that can almost be defined as regret flashing through his eyes. This is the fate that he had inflicted upon you, a lifetime of being a vampire like himself. It isn’t what he wanted for you -- to burden you with the weight he has carried for centuries past -- but you left him no choice. Having seen you lying, seconds away from death’s door, he had to act. To preserve your life, to keep you with him. 

You pull away, mouth smeared deep vermillion, eyes growing glassy. There’s no point in holding onto the shreds of honor that left you a long time ago, and you collapse against his solid frame. Alucard has never been capable of comforting you, not beyond melancholic touches that seem to pain him more than you. Sniffling against his shoulder, your hand raises, threatening to strike, before losing strength and falling down. Humiliating as it may be, you don’t care, holding desperately to any form of consolation this world may offer you. 

Alucard, the one who clipped your wings in the name of love, can only watch as you curse and cry out to him.