#Also I know to some artists it genuinely is a quick doodle and it makes me love the artist more

[sastielsfandom]

Artists are so funny, they'll drop an absolute masterpiece, something so jaw dropping gorgeous, and call it a quick doodle. I love artists so much.

[skyenish]

Twisted Wonderland Personality Swap AU

Thanks so much for the support on my previous posts, it really means a lot to me. Because of that, I've decided to continue writing for this AU and keep you all updated! I'll also be using this post to answer some of your questions. (In this AU the Housewardens and Vice-Housewardens switched personalities)

I went ahead and made some doodles for Ruggie, Leona, Jamil and Kalim (Ruggie with Leona's eyes scares me tbh)

Questions/explanations/clarifications:

-I didn't change the characters' backstories (unless specifically stated). Riddle still has a horrible mom, Trey's family still owns a bakery, Leona is still second prince, Ruggie is still dirt-poor, etc.

-What changed is how the characters reacted to their respective trauma I guess, which resulted in their personalities changing.

-Their personalities are not exact copies of eachother. For example, Riddle isn't just Trey but with red hair. He's very similar to Trey, yes, but they have a few differences in their personalities too.

-I'll explain how the characters became the way they are over time. Plus, it's also fun to think about it yourself, right?

-I've already worked out Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle and Scarabia.

-I'm planning on doing every dorm, but I play on the English server so I haven't finished book 6 yet.

-Yes, I'm planning on having the Vices + Kalim overblot, and to do that I'll be using their already canonically established backstories.

-I am NOT a professional artist, nor do I have ANY experience with drawing comics, but just know that I'm passionate about this little project and will work hard to make it as good as possible.

-I'm busy with school (I'm busy in general lol), so I don't have a lot of time to work on this AU- I've been sick for the past 4 days, which is why I could post so much.

-If you have literally any questions, just ask. I love to read you guys' reactions!

Characters:

Jamil wears his hair in a loose braid in this AU, since I don't think he has the patience to braid his hair the way he originally does and his hair is kinda connected to his personality. Jamil is much more optimistic and positive, and he's always supportive. People seem to naturally like him, which annoys Kalim. Jamil always tries to look at things from a positive perspective, trying to make the best out of his situation, though it's not that bad for him, because Jamil genuinely thinks that Kalim is amazing. When he got an invitation to NRC he INSISTED that Kalim come as well. Jamil always wants to throw feasts, and if his master allows it, he'll disappear in the kitchen to cook enough food to feed 3 entire dorms for a week. Jamil frequently tries to get Kalim to relax, because he just wants him to be happy, but Kalim then reminds him that they're at NRC to study. (I already talked about Kalim in a previous post but I'll copy paste it here too)

In this AU, Kalim is much stricter, much more focused and MUCH more responsible. He studies rigorously and insisted on actually working hard to earn his position as Housewarden instead of his family buying the position for him. He’s very sharp, quite intelligent, and is annoyed by his naïve servant and his carefree attitude, who keeps following him around.

Leona is a menace, playful, optimistic and cunning, but he also puts a lot of work into his dorm and school. He knows he has to work had to achieve his goals and he knows that he has a lot of responsibilities. He values hard work.

Ruggie is the complete opposite to Leona though. He is lazy, quick to irritate, and forces lower-classmen to do his work for him because he just wants to sleep. Ruggie is a terrible student, never showing up for class or duties and never putting in any effort. He feels like no matter what he does or how hard he works, he'll never make any changes and his life won't ever get better anyways, especially with a high-and-mighty prince as his Housewarden. He thinks that nothing he does is of any use , so why bother at all, right?

Thanks for reading this word vomit, reblogging would be appreciated lol

[acroagoraphobe]

Hi! ❤️

How do you think the companions romanced or not (and Maxson) will react if you give them a portrait of themselves that you drew?) maybe Sole is artist or smth like that)

OOoooo good Idea!

(Im not the best with *all* the characters, but im tryin here!)

Because I mainly Write for like just deacon and a few others, also I did it in my usual format so I hope that's good enough!

(Also I did both romanced and non-romanced because HEHEHEHEHEH also non romanced is assumed Sole reached Idolized with them.)

Cait:

(I don't know that much about Cait, so I'm trying my best [: )

Non-romanced:

Would probably be irritated, but also flattered

"What're ye given me that for?"

Secretly thinks thats pretty nice but she's not telling Sole that.

Romanced:

Would be a bit more appreciative of it openly, but still act tough about it.

"Its alroight, eyh guess-"

Would probably fold it up and secretly keep it stashed in her corset or something.

But if anyone asks she never had it.

She sneakily gives Sole a quick smooch on the cheek.

Maccready:

(Idk that much about him but Ik he's a dork)

Non-Romanced:

"Oh that's pretty cool-"

Probably hasn't had a friend draw him before.

Probably pretty impressed because I think he likes to doodle too.

Romanced:

Probably would ask for more drawings after he sees that.

Like a drawing of him and Duncan

Keeps that drawing in his pocket, happily.

Smiles like an idiot, then gives Sole a little kiss.

Danse:

Non-Romanced:

"What is the purpose of this, soldier?"

Genuinely confused on why they drew him, Is it because they're just practicing their drawing? Is it a symbol of affection?

He would be critiquing the details and where Sole can improve, even if they didn't ask him to.

But thats just him showing he's interested in Sole's improvement.

Romanced:

"Oh, Thank you. This is a rather detailed depiction of my likeness."

He would be more invested in Sole's improvement if romanced, 100%.

Keeps that drawing in a nice safe place, he doesn't want it to get lost.

When he realizes it's actually like.. a sign of affection, he's got a big ass smile on his face.

Deacon:

Non-Romanced:

"Guessing you like my face then, huh? Don't get too attached it though!"

Actually very flattered that he's being drawn and not just on wanted posters because he goofed off too much.

Pretends to throw it away, but actually sticks it in his pocket.

Romanced:

"Damn, you must realllyy love my face then, huh?"

Trying so hard to not giggle like an idiot at that moment.

Smiling like a dork, big goofy grin.

Maybe blushing a little bit, but definitely trying to hide it.

Hancock:

Non-Romanced:

"Suprised you got my ugly mug is so much detail heh-"

Taking a nice good look at it, definitely putting it on the wall later.

Where everyone can see it, like a public buletin board.

Romanced:

Sole's 100% getting a big ol' kiss from him for this.

Still putting it on a public buletin board but will like publicly announce that theres a cool-ass drawing of him done by his partner on the bulletin.

"Thanks, Sunshine. Looks just like me-"

Piper

Non-Romanced:

"Thanks Blue! This looks great!"

Putting it on her wall next to her terminal.

Really appreciates it, she might even consider getting Sole to make illustrations for the Publick.

Romanced:

"Aww, Thanks Blue! I love it!"

Sole's getting a smooch on the cheek for this.

She's definitely showing it to Nick and her sister.

Nick Valentine:

Non-Romanced:

"Huh. Thanks kid, looks great."

Would probably get lost in his files and papers.

But he still appreciates that Sole took the time to draw him.

"Maybe you can take the time to make some wanted posters. The ones around here ain't the best".

Romanced:

He's putting it on the wall, immediately. Right over his desk.

"Thanks, Sweetheart, I love it."

Really happy Sole took the time to draw a beat up old Synth like him.

Longfellow:

Non-Romanced:

"Huh? Whatcha draw me for?"

Doesn't really think it's worth the effort for Sole to draw him.

But he's flattered. Probably keeps it on a table in his cabin somwhere.

Curie:

Non-Romanced:

"Oh thank you! Zis is very nice of you!"

Puts it in with her medical notes, folded up and paperclipped in the folder.

Big ol' smile.

Romanced:

About the same, But gives Sole a sweet little kiss on the cheek.

Codsworth:

Non-Romanced:

"Thank you Sir/Miss, I shall treasure this drawing always!"

Doesn't have a place to put it really, so he just kinda holds onto it for a while and maybe puts it with his cleaning supplies.

X6-88:

Non-Romanced:

"I do not understand why you would draw me, Sir/Ma'am."

Really doesn't get it.

Even if sole explains that it was a sign of affection and appreciation.

He really tries to understand why, but logically it doesn't make sense to him.

Romanced:

Still doesn't really get it, but he's trying his best.

"Thank you, Sir/Ma'am."

Keeps it in his pocket anyways.

Very tiny little smile.

Preston:

Non-Romanced:

"Thank you General, This is really nice of you-"

Keeps it in his coat pocket happily.

Big ol' smile on his face.

Blushing a bit that Sole took time and effort to draw him in such detail.

Romanced:

"Oh wow, Thanks babe!"

Sole is getting a smooch, right on the lips (:

Gage:

Non-Romanced:

"What the hell, boss. Why'd ya waste yer time on that?"

Throws it away, he's a raider, ain't got time for sappy touchy-feely shit.

"Tough shit boss, suck it up." when Sole gets mad at him for throwing it away.

Romanced:

Same kinda reaction, but he picks it up outta the trash later and sticks it in his pocket.

Ada:

Non-Romanced:

"Oh. Thank you. This is rather nice."

Doesn't have anywhere to keep it, so Sold holds onto it for her.

Maxson:

Non-Romanced:

"Well, Soldier. That does catch my likeness very well, doesn't it?"

Cocky bastard about it, but in a "Im your elder" way.

Thats getting put into his man diary (That he 100% has because I said so.)

Romanced:

"Well, that is very nice.. Thank you Soldier-"

Puts it into his pocket for later, with a smile on his face that goes away once he walks away from Sole, because it's serious time now.

[alena-draws]

It's 2 am and I am genuinely screaming at your art. I always do, but christ. I usually check out in case you've uploaded something new, your art is a strong creative reference point for me, I hope you know that. It makes art feel fun again.

A lot of the art you post might be doodles and quick sketches, but they have so much life in them, and emotion, and I always, always love seeing it. I have a bunch of your drawings saved in a folder for reference whenever I'm stuck and feel like I should have some more fun, and enjoy what I'm doing. Then I go look at it, and feel immediately inspired, and go back at it.

I started seeing your art because of bnha, and THEN I realized that OH? YOU ALSO GOT INTO TRIGUN? My god, I read the post you wrote about the series just being...wonderful--and it REALLY IS,. No spoilers for anyone, just..it's good. its so, so good for so many reasons, and it hit a chord in my little heart, and now youre making art of it? Dont mind if I do???

I read that you were trying to focus this blog into more serious art, and thats fine, although if you were to also post your funny little doodles anywhere else, whatever they may be about, just say where and I'll be around too >:)) its always so very nice to see anything at all. So, yeah. screaming. I just saw the most recent trigun sketches and UGH. Theyre so fine. The cHARACTERS ARE SO FINE. id rant about the complexity and simplicity of it all. You art really shows Vash's emotions, and..ah, it hits the spot. So uh, yeah! You're awesome, keep doing awesome. Sorry about the long message, don't feel pressured to answer ^^)!

Aah thank you so much for that sweet ask!! The fact that you have art saved in a folder and that it helps you get back to drawing when you feel stuck, that makes me so happy to hear! It's in a way one of the best things I could hope to achieve, because even though as an artist you draw for your own joy, if I can move other people or even better, inspire them to do art too, then I'm super glad :') I hope you keep on having fun and enjoying doing art!

Also oh yes like many other people I got deep into Trigun...(I might just add some more to that post that you mentioned, because I haven't yet expressed all that I wanted to say about that show)

Don't worry, the funny little doodles will stay here and continue to be uploaded! What I mainly meant by keeping this professionall-y is, that I mostly want to post art, not too many text posts, because I want my Tumblr to function as a kind of online portfolio/art archive. That works here just a bit better than on Twitter.

Again, thank you so much! I'm really happy you like my stuff so much and took your time to write such a kind, long message! Have a beautiful day and weekend!

[nyaitsu-writes]

I feel spoiled with how many es blogs i'm finding- anyways, can I ask for some fluffy headcanons with ritsu, natsume, kaoru, and suou stumbling across their easily flustered fem s/o's sketchbook and complimenting her for her artistic abiltiy please? (like she downplays her abilties because of how shy she is) and thank u!!

sooo this is one of those requests that has been sitting at the very bottom of my askbox for a whiiile now ahaha i'm sorry.... since i write for 3 charas max i just chose the first 3 i had an idea for... and kinda ran with it... for 2k... (*/ω＼*) i relate to this rq on a personal level so it made it really easy to just,, write a lot about it <333

✧ kaoru, natsume, ritsu | finding their s/o's sketchbook ✧

RITSU SAKUMA;

✦ ritsu has the habit of accidentally stealing people’s stuff. since he can be found laying/resting virtually anywhere, no secret is safe with him (and his naps!). there’s also the fact that he’s stuck to your side 24/7, keeping watch of every little thing so he can protect you <3 protect you and that little sketchbook you keep carrying around, of course!

✦ ritsu will lean on your shoulder, putting his arms around your dominant hand to try and restrain you just to peak into the pics. because he knows just how quick you are when it comes to hiding this particular notebook! if this attempt doesn’t work out, he’ll resort to cute whining and being (adorably) annoying until you let him see. he’ll call your name and poke your cheek so softly yet so insistently i’m giving you 5 minutes before you sigh in defeat. ritsu sakuma, master of persuasion ( ‵▽′)ψ

✦ so you end up placing the sketchbook on your lap, quietly flipping through the pages under ritsu’s attentive glance. you would think that ritsu being ritsu will stay quiet during the entire flip through but he keeps pointing at his favourite doodles and asking about the story behind them. about what you were thinking about when you drew it, about what that character means to you: he’s putting genuine interest into it!

✦ ritsu finds art to be a really really good hobby. why you ask? because you can be together! he’ll be kind enough to lean on your non-dominant hand this time so you can doodle properly~ he thinks the sound of the pencil gliding against the paper is comfortable… makes him sleepy <3 that is what he says but as soon as you start sketching at his side he will rest his head on your shoulder and look at the pic. he thinks your art is beautiful and wants to see more and more of it. and he is not afraid to compliment you for it!

✦ i think that ritsu can become a bit of a hoarder sometimes. this means every time you’re working on a sketch that you don’t like as much and rip it off, he will ask to keep it. this probably takes you by surprise the first time. and the second time. because you know, he’s not asking for the almost finished pics (he is too, but not now) but rather the messy doodles you gave up on halfway through! you try to say no but ritsu won’t accept no as an answer. if he has to stand up and grab the wrinkled piece of paper, he will （｀ 3 ′） this shows just how stubborn he is into taking care of your pictures!!

✦ he has this cute little folder in his room with the doodles he has managed to snatch from you. it’s like a dragon hoarding a big treasure of gold coins and jewels but it’s ritsu sakuma collecting a lot of your sketches <3 i think he wouldn’t be opposed to hanging some on the walls of his room. imagine going to his room and finding up this nice frame and when you try to look into it you find your art… no matter how much you ask him to please, please take it off because it isn’t even done he’ll shake his head…

✦ “mrmm it’s a placeholder then. i like seeing your art every day… i might reconsider putting a full illustration if you don’t like this one… i think it’s pretty though~” see he tricked you. it’s all a trick so he gets more of your art. he’s so smart isn’t he!

✦ all in all i think ritsu is very supportive of your hobby (❁´◡`❁) he tries not to be too pushy but he still wants to see everything you do, to learn more and more about the things you love. he understands what “not being enough” feels like and he knows just how important it is to have someone by your side reminding you that you are enough. skills take time to develop! but you don’t have to be the very best. if it’s your passion and it makes you happy, then that is good enough!

NATSUME SAKASAKI;

✦ they say curiosity killed the cat but that doesn’t apply to natsume: once he catches an interest in something he’ll be fixated on it until he’s completely satisfied. call it a scientific method, call it him being nosy and wanting to find out everything: both are right! (●ˇ∀ˇ●)

✦ you keep spending your free time together with him in the secret room, sitting down on a comfy corner with a notebook in your hands and natsume didn’t even think too much about it until now. it’s always the same notebook, same cover, decorated with the exact same stickers. and as soon as he walks by and turns his head just by the tiniest bit, you’re already turning the sheet or closing the book right on his nose. so he’s growing more and more curious by the minute. if he were to snatch your notebook…?

✦ but there’s no need to! one day his prayers are heard as you have to run for a quick errand and forget it right on his table. right next to his stuff. look, you got this one on yourself. he is most definitely not prying around your stuff, you knew exactly what was going to happen if you left your stuff unsupervised!

✦ so natsume opens the notebook with the utmost curiosity only to find out it isn’t the kind of notebook he thought it would be. instead of pages full with scribbles and notes, he’s surprised to find little doodles and half done illustrations. it’s actually a sketchbook!

✦ natsume isn’t even trying to be coy about this. you’ll come back into the room and catch him sitting in your favorite corner, happily flipping through the pages and nodding along with every pic. you don’t get a chance to complain about him stealing your notebook (because you forgot it yourself, he reminds you), but rather he goes straight into asking.

✦ “and so? how long were you planning to keep this hidden from me? ah no, i’m not giving it back it’s mine now” camera pan to natsume keeping the sketchbook away from you while he keeps staring intently into each and every page. maybe when he’s done,, he’ll consider giving it back. maybe. if you’re good <3

✦ so from that day onwards, he keeps getting just a tiny bit closer to you when you’re doodling. like yeah he does have stuff to do but mayyybe he can take a bit of a break. no he’s not staring at you?? you’re just making things up jeez (he’s is indeed staring at you)

✦ methinks natsume is good at art, maybe in a different sense than you are? it does of course depend on your style and the things you like drawing better! but this little man here can draw some pretty impressive rune circles and stuff so he knows what good art looks like when he sees it <3 and even if what you do were to be totally out of his area of expertise you won’t even realize until he’s done some proper research about it ehehe

✦ he’s also comes across as a biiiit rude sometimes… natsume kind of rude. maybe not rude but painfully honest? you don’t downplay your skills in front of him because he can and will roast you into accepting that you are wrong. that you are wrong in thinking you are not good, that’s the right thing ( ˘︹˘ ) oh wow a bit of a twisted argument isn’t it? but it somehow works. he keeps using logical arguments and things you can’t quite deny to prove that you are indeed a good artist and just painfully modest. but who needs modesty? just learn to accept yourself with your good and bad points (mostly the good ones, like he does but shhh) and you’ll be happier and safer. good advice from your local fortune-teller / boyfriend! be sure to listen to him!!

✦ if those kind of arguments don’t work on you, it’s natsume we’re talking about! he surely has some tricks up his sleeve to make you finally accept that he is right and you need to love yourself a bit more. if has to… tease you into accepting, he will. maybe he’ll pull just so close to you, so close you can see every golden sparkle in his eyes… so close you can almost kiss! only to try something along the lines of “now, if you talk nicely about yourself for once i might consider giving you a reward? do we have a deal~?” here we have it,, another master of persuasion in all his glory www

KAORU HAKAZE;

✦ ohhh kaoru. this is going back to ritsu square: won't stop whining and being annoying (but in a cute kaoru way) until you let him see. if puppy eyes are needed and some adorable "babeee pretty please let me see?" then he won't stop until he gets his point across.

✦ he is just so surprised. like, he knew you could draw (he is surprisingly smart at realizing people's hobbies, actually) but not at this level! he's literally showering you with compliments. That's some real talent!! ♪(´▽｀)

✦ so kaoru finds in art a couple bonding experience. that is, he asks you to teach him how to draw. other than a couple silly doodles he really can't do much but he's excited to try! Sitting together for a chill afternoon, just doing your best at doodling each other. oh yes! be sure to get his right side, okay? and then you can exchange the pictures. more like, he’ll ask to take your picture with him, just to keep it somewhere safe. getting your s/o to draw you in their style,, he’s getting this precious little fluffy feeling in his chest, he couldn’t be any happier

✦ kaoru is the absolute king of boosting people’s self-esteem no matter the situation. i’m sorry but that’s the rules <3 seeing as constant compliments don’t really work, he tries to shift his strategy and rather asks you why you think so badly of your art. first of all he calls your half-done doodles art (and that is utterly adorable) but then he asks why. why do you? maybe you feel like your skills aren’t good enough or you keep comparing yourself to other people. maybe you’re just shy… but worry not! best boyfriend kaoru hakaze will work with you on getting rid of whatever makes you feel like that. he’ll be your personal cheerleader!

✦ he would also like to be your personal model if you don’t mind? he’s always up for the offer ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ …oooor that is what he says. because they day you actually say yes he’s even more surprised than you are for finally accepting. please don’t look at his blush please don’t look at his blush please don’t— suddenly his heart started beating so much faster than usual? lucky for him it only takes him a couple minutes to recompose and smile brightly. well, you did accept after all! and kaoru is positive when it comes to his looks <3

✦ he will try to mask his nervousness by aggressively flirting with you, cute winks included. “heh, you love me so much you can’t help but stare, can you? that’s cute…~ (๑・ω -)～♥” which could have worked had kaoru remembered that he is… modeling for you. that. that’s the entire point of it, you know? as an idol he is used to, it’s just,, he wants to do it well for you, okay?

✦ also! kaoru makes some really good company at all times but when you’re casually doodling? absolutely awesome. you can play some light music in the background while you listen to him talk about his day, about work or anything he might remember. it brings this sense of comfort… of feeling at home no matter where you are, as long as you’re together (❁´◡`❁)

✦ would it make him a mean person if he said he likes the way you blush? you really make the cutest expressions when he says something nice about your drawings… which only prompts him to say even more sweet things about them. of course he means it! it’s just your cute reaction is extra points for him ehehe indulge him a bit! <3

[thatsthetriick]

Y/n letting Rohan Kishibe sleep in their home

Summary: After Rohan’s house got burnt down he needed to stay with someone temporary since his home isn’t safe yet for him to live in, he decided to choose you to stay with since out of everyone in morioh he trusted you the most. gn! reader! Also I don’t know if I should consider this a headcanon or a scenario, eitherway its a fanfic thing xD

Header: Jjba: Diamond is Unbreakable

Rohan staying at Y/n’s place after his house got burnt down

✫ “Rohan?” you would question it’s like 10 PM at night time and you were already falling asleep when he knocked at your door.

✫ “Forgive me Y/n but I suppose you don’t mind if I stay over?” he’ll explain why he needed to stay over your place and you welcome him to your home, he looked around and you were nervous if the place was alright enough for him.

✫ He eventually reassures you that it’s fine and you lead him to your room, you don’t really have a spare but you did tell him you have a sofa and you can just sleep there since you never really used your bed ever since you got that sofa and he hesitated but since he saw that you were genuine about not using your bed at all he’ll accept it.

✫ You give him your empty desk for him to work since you know he is devoted to his drawings and drawing generally and he was also grateful for that, he just didn’t show it enough and you were alright with it.

✫ You’ll probably go down and get some tea and biscuits for the both of you and he’ll look aroudn your room and see your artworks, you were also an artist but you didn’t really want it to be your career it was just a hobby you do when you’re bored.

✫ He’ll look at the scattered papers and sketch book at a tiny coffee table near the entrance of your room, it seems like you like drawing on the floor that’s why your desk is empty as well.

✫ He eventualyl goes and sits back down and began thinking on how Josuke was winning the gamble till you come in with tea and biscuits.

✫ You’re an awkward host honestly, he didn’t talk to much and you didn’t talk that much either but you two stayed at the same room.

✫ It’s probably raining at the time he came over your house or it did eventually rain so you heard his pencil noises in contact of the paper he was drawing in and the rain at the same time

✫ The lights are closed except for the bright lamp that was on the desk where he was drawing, while you eventually fell asleep.

✫ He’ll see you with no blanket and he’ll go look back at his art, then he’ll look at you again and then back to his art till his final look at you he sighed and stood up and grab a piece of blanket and cover you with the blanket as you sleep comfortably

✫ He’ll continue his work again and would look time to time at you sleeping peacefully wondering your thoughts of him.

✫ After finishing several drawings he streched and made grunting noises as he did so and looks at you one last time and decided to make a quick doodle sketch of you sleeping peacefully.

✫ That’s because he found it cute you had raw emotions as you sleep.

✫ He eventually falls asleep on the desk and you coincidentally woke up to see him sleeping on the desk on top of his drawings.

✫  You carefully pack his things away and put the blanket he put on you to him and grab an extra one and went back to sleep.

In my opinion Rohan is a cute tsundere xdd ! Check out my masterlist~

[accioxreparo]

ink stains

synopsis: soulmate au in which every mark that appears on your body also appears on your soulmate’s body including, as you discover one day, drawings. Needless to say you’re determined to make your soulmate smile, even if you haven’t found them yet.

pairing: George Weasley x ravenclaw!reader

warnings: none

a/n: Hi I’m late to the party but @thoseofgreatambition is doing a soulmate theme night and I’m a ho for soumate au’s so hopefully mine is decent enough lol also I may or may not be writing one for fred too but it’s taking me ages so 

tagging: @the-hufflepuff-of-221b

~~~~~~

When you were six years old you woke up one morning to dark stains splattered all over your face and arms. You were confused and quickly grew panicked, absolutely positive that you had contracted Dragon Pox overnight. It had taken an hour for your dad to calm you down enough so he could explain with a small grin that your soulmate must’ve spilled an inkwell on themselves. 

“What do you mean?” You had asked with wide, curious eyes.

“Well,” Your dad had reached for the bedside table and picked up a quil. “Everybody has a soulmate, Y/N. One day you start being able to see the marks that appear on your soulmate's body, permanent or temporary. For you, that day happens to be today.” He dipped the quil in a well filled with bright blue ink and handed it to you. “Why don’t you give it a try? Write your soulmate a message.”

“What if they don’t write back?” You had frowned then, suddenly worrying that maybe this mystery person on the other end would want nothing to do with you. 

“Well that’s okay,” Your dad had been quick to reassure you. “They might not be able to see the marks yet. But one day they will and I just know they’ll be ecstatic to know you’re here.”

After that day there was a constant stream of doodles all over you. Vines snaking up your ankle. Twisting patterns winding around your fingers. Planets and stars littering your collarbone area. Stripes of random colors all over your palms as you mixed new colors. The most detailed pictures were always on your left arm though, that was where you practiced new drawings. 

Occasionally you wrote a message but mostly you drew. Then one day you bought a book about charms to cast on drawings in Flourish and Blotts and you begged your dad every chance you got to cast them for you. After that at least a few pictures were always moving up and down your body.

When you got your very own wand at the age of eleven they were the first spells you practiced. By the end of your first year at Hogwarts you had mastered the whole book. Since then there was always a constant supply of different colored inks in your bag and pockets. The array of multicolored moving pictures that changed every day was your one connection to your soulmate. 

They had yet to write back. 

It had been ages since you first found your connection to your soulmate. You’d dealt with scars and bruises and occasional scribbled reminders but never once had you ever received even an acknowledgment of anybody seeing your drawings. 

You tried not to let it bother you, you really did. But it seemed like every single person around you had known their soulmate for years, in one way or another. Some days the smile you wore wasn’t quite genuine, the longing you felt growing a little deeper at times, but never once did you fail to decorate your limbs with gentle reminders that you were there for your soulmate to find on themselves. 

Not until that day. You were set to leave for school the next morning and your father had taken the week off of work to see you off. The two of you, your older brother, and your younger sister were probably too focused on the quidditch match you had going against each other in the backyard of your house. So much so that the bludger hit your way completely blindsided you. 

The match ended with panicked shouts, a trip to St. Mungos, and your left arm wrapped tightly in cloth bandages as it rested in a sling while your bones healed. 

It was only when you were sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express that the strangest thing happened. Words scrawled in letters that weren’t your own had appeared on your right arm. 

Nothing new today? 

As you stared at the writing with wide eyes, more words appeared underneath those. 

I’m sure this is bending the rules but I had to know. Something’s wrong isn’t it?

Frantically you dumped out the contents of your bag, scattering them all over the floor of the compartment. You dug around the mess you had made until you found a self-inking quil. Just as you were about to write your response you caught sight of the bandages on your arm and gave a defeated sigh. 

“Would you like some help?” 

You looked up and saw Luna, a friend of yours a couple years below you, watching you with an amused smile. The two of you would always sit up late in the common room together, swapping theories and stories about anything and everything. 

“If you don’t mind,” You gave her a sheepish look and she only smiled before moving to sit next to you. 

“What would you like me to write?” Luna asked as she took the quil out of your hand. You smiled and told her, watching as she took your arm and wrote out your words for you. 

What makes you think something is wrong?

It was seconds later when you received your response. 

Not once in the six years since I’ve been able to see your drawings have you let a day pass where you don’t add new ones. What’s wrong? 

A smile graced your face and Luna was kind enough to help you continue the conversation happening on your arm. 

I’m fine. Just a Quidditch injury. I’ll have the bandages removed by tonight, don’t worry. 

Take your time. I don’t want you to hurt longer than you have to, love.

You were sure it was cheating, talking to your soulmate by writing messages on your arm. But if whatever soulmate forces were out there didn’t want you to talk to them then there shouldn’t have been such a simple loophole. 

That’s what comforted you late that night, now gently scrawling messy words quickly on your arm that had been broken only the day before. Never before had you been more thankful for Skele-Gro. 

Can I ask you something?

The print you wrote with was small on purpose, trying to keep as much room available as possible. It didn’t stop you, however, from doodling new little pictures on the back of your hand. 

Go for it.

Why haven’t you ever said anything before? Why now?

You stared at the words you had written for a few moments before sighing and heading to the bathroom that was connected to your room. Only after staring at the words covering both arms now for a minute or two did you start washing away the ink you had put there. 

For a minute you thought that you shouldn’t have asked. You stood in silence, watching as the remainder of the ink, the part written in your soulmates handwriting, was slowly washed away leaving only faint ink stains. Then to your relief a response came after it was all gone. 

I was worried. And let’s just say I’m not as artistic as you are, my talents lie in other places. 

For a second the writing stopped but then more words appeared, quicker than they had before. 

Also I may have missed seeing you draw new pictures for me a little too much.

You beamed at the words and walked back to your bed. After the curtains were pulled around it you lit the end of your wand and picked up your quil again. 

Do you like them? The pictures. 

The response was almost immediate. 

I love them.

***

“Miss Y/L/N.” 

You jumped in your seat at the sound of a voice calling your name. Slowly you looked up from where you were taking notes on nonverbal spells. Professor Flitwick stood only a few feet away with an exasperated look on his face. Meanwhile both of the Weasley twins sat at their desk looking quite satisfied with whatever they had just done. 

You’d been correct to assume they were behind whatever loud noise had been going on only minutes before. The desk the twins were sitting at was now charred and the other Gryffindors surrounding them were chatting excitedly about whatever it was you missed while your nose was buried in your charms book. 

Neither Fred or George Weasley missed the fact that you were trying and failing to keep back an amused smile.  

“You’ll be getting a new partner to do your project with,” Professor Flitwick lifted his wand and with a single flick a bag and a pile of unused textbooks was flying across the room and into the empty space next to you. “Mr. Weasley.” 

Both boys stood at the same time wearing matching smirks and chorused, “Yes, Professor?” 

You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your laugh when Professor Flitwick sighed and shook his head upon realizing that he really should have seen that coming. “Mr. George Weasley. Come meet your new partner.” 

Oddly enough said person didn’t look disappointed by the new assignment at all. Instead he grinned as he approached you, sliding into the chair beside you easily. 

You could count the number of times you had spoken to George Weasley on one hand. The first time had been during potions when he’d asked to borrow some foxglove for a pompion potion. It wasn’t the potion you’d been assigned to brew but you hadn’t questioned it. The second time he’d walked up to you and your friends after a quidditch match to congratulate Ravenclaw on their victory against Slytherin despite the fact that none of you were on the team. And the third time was only a few weeks before when he asked to borrow a spare quil in transfiguration. 

You doubted he remembered any of that though. 

“So partner,” George leaned on the desk, head resting on one of his hands as he looked at you. “What do you know about,” He reached over to look at the piece of parchment you’d been taking your notes on. “Nonverbal spells? That’s our topic?” 

“It is,” You nodded and reached for your notes, hoping he wouldn’t flip over the parchment to see the drawings you’d absentmindedly doodled during the lecture. “Is that a problem?” 

“Not at all,” George’s smile turned softer then as he stared at you, a fact which you noticed. You turned away quickly as you felt your face burn, hoping silently that it wasn’t too noticeable. “On the contrary. From what I hear you’ve already mastered a few nonverbal spells yourself Y/N, dearest.”

You froze then, not sure which revelation surprised you more. The fact that apparently you had developed a reputation without you knowing or the fact that George Weasley of all people knew your name. 

You tried your hardest to fight the temptation to ask how he knew you and why. 

“Class is almost over,” Your words came out rushed and a little too loud to sound natural. It wasn’t a complete lie. In just ten minutes you’d all be dismissed and that was hardly enough time to make even a small dent into your project. “We should meet sometime before our next class to get started if we want to have it done by the due date.”

“You’re so...ravenclaw,” George spoke after a few moments. When you looked at him again he was still giving you that same soft smile, a different sort of glint in his eyes than the one you were used to seeing every now and then.

For a second your thoughts drifted to the words scrawled on your right arm and the pictures on your left. They were covered up by the sleeves of your sweater as they usually were but you could picture the words you and your soulmate had written to each other earlier that day clearly. 

“Is that a bad thing?” You found yourself asking, for some strange reason not being able to bring yourself to pull away from George’s gaze. 

“No,” He shook his head gently almost immediately. “It’s perfect.”

***

You had to give credit where credit was due. When it came down to it, George Weasley could in fact step up to the plate. 

Even now, an early Sunday morning the day after a trip to Hogsmeade, he sat right in front of you. 

You knew for a fact he had been up late the previous night causing his usual mischief alongside his brother. One of the Ravenclaw prefects had been patrolling the halls and you overheard him complaining about having to send the twins back to their dorm for the fourth day in a row when he entered the common room.

It had made you smile. 

You’d spent at least a couple hours each day alongside George for the past two and a half weeks. Some of that time had indeed been spent on your project but you found it easier to talk to him than you thought it would be. You couldn’t even begin to count the variety of tales he told you just to hear you laugh.

That, however, meant that the two of you had developed a tendency to avoid your work resulting in you being behind. The next day the two of you would have to present in front of the class. You had already gotten away with postponing the presentation twice. 

The first time you had told Professor Flitwick that you needed more time to gather as much information as the topic deserved. The second time George had eaten one of the products he had told you he was working on, one he called a nosebleed nougat. It had worked like a charm and the moment you left the classroom with him he ate another candy and it stopped.

It was the only reason the two of you had woken up at that godforsaken hour of the morning on a Sunday. There was simply no other option now.

“I think all of our research is done and I can write up some notes for us to remember during the presentation,” You reached for another roll of parchment from your bag to do just that before dipping your quil in an inkwell filled with bright blue ink. “But we still need to practice some nonverbal spells for the practical demonstration. What do you think we should -”

It wasn’t until you looked away from the pile of books in front of you and at George that you realized he had dozed off.  His head was resting on his arms which were crossed on the desk in front of him and he looked almost peaceful for once. 

The corner of a piece of parchment was sticking out from under one of his arms and suddenly you couldn’t help yourself. Slowly you leaned forward until you could reach the parchment and you began to sketch a field of flowers on the paper in various ink colors. 

You didn’t notice your own smile as you did so. 

Then the end of your quil brushed across George’s face and he almost immediately bolted up in his seat. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes once more he looked over only to find you biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing. 

“You look suspicious,” George narrowed his eyes at you playfully when he saw the look on your face, still not noticing the addition to his parchment. 

“Do I?” You smiled then as you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms in front of you. 

“You do,” He leaned forward on the desk again and the grin you’d come to see on a regular basis returned. “May I ask why?” 

“No reason at all. I’m just excited to learn some nonverbal spells is all,” You laughed as you stood from your seat, squinting a little at the late morning sun shining through the windows. “Speaking of, I’m gonna go search for some books a friend of mine recommended with some spells we could use.” 

“Do we not have enough of those here?” George said as he glanced at the pile of no less than seven books, none of which he could remember anything about. 

“Those are all on history and theory. We need something on practical application.” 

“Right,” George let out a sigh as he reached for one of the unopened books. “You’re lucky I like you. I can’t remember the last time I did this much reading for a project.” 

You hummed and then shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Don’t I feel honored.” 

“Just get on with it,” George glanced up from the pages of the book he’d been flipping through and at you again, this time with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Faster we finish with this, the sooner we can sneak into the kitchens for a late breakfast.” 

You were quick to agree. George watched as you disappeared behind one of the bookshelves. It was only when he was sure you were gone that he rolled up the sleeve of his sweater and reached for a quil, quickly scribbling a message to his soulmate on his right arm. 

When he was done writing the message he caught sight of the flowers that you had drawn on the corner of his parchment and he grinned. Almost absentmindedly he started drawing flowers around your own, albeit a little simpler than the designs you had made. It took a minute for his eyes to widen, quil falling out of his hand, realizing that the flowers you had drawn on the paper he had already seen dozens of times before. In fact, a variation of them sat on his left arm now.

***

Finally four hours later you and George sat in the kitchens which you’d found surprisingly empty. Breakfast and lunch had come and gone and the two of you had gladly accepted a variety of foods from a couple of the house elves. 

You were completely oblivious to the way George was studying you closely, trying as hard as he could to see if he was right. 

“Puddlemere United,” He said when he caught sight of the patch sewn onto the jacket you were wearing. “I take it you’re a fan?” 

“I sort of have to be,” You laughed a little when you saw the confused look flash on George’s face. “My dad is Puddlemere’s captain.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not, promise,” You smiled as you shook your head. Without hesitation you pulled off your jacket, flipping it around so the back was visible, and pointed to a navy blue crest with the Puddlemere United logo and the word ‘captain’ across it in bold, golden letters. “Has been for a few years now and here’s your proof.” 

But when you looked at George he wasn’t looking at the jacket at all. Instead he was staring at the variety of words and pictures covering your arms. You could see his eyes darting back and forth and quickly pulled your arm away and under the table. 

“Wait,” He reached across the table and took your hand in his, slowly turning your arm around so he could see all every single stroke of ink. You could only watch as he gently traced the designs with his free hand. 

The moment was soft, intimate in the purest way. You swore you could hear your own heart thumping louder each second that passed. It reached its peak when George placed your arm on the table in front of the two of you only to pull off the sweater he’d been wearing. It was then that the breath you were holding in left you. 

Every single ink stain on your arms was perfectly reflected on his. Now that you looked closer you wondered how you hadn’t recognized his handwriting right away, you’d spent the last few months writing back and forth after all. You’d been so focused on the drawings and the writing that you hadn’t noticed what, or rather who was right in front of you. 

“I knew it was you, you know.” 

Your laugh was light when you finally dared to look at George once more. He was looking at you with pure and utter adoration and you were positive you wore the same expression. “Did you now?” 

“I did,” George grinned as he took your hand again, more confident than he had previously been. “Remember our first year when I asked you for that foxglove? I was supposed to nick it from one of the shelves but you had your sleeves rolled up and I swore I saw the edge of the stars you had drawn earlier that day. I went to get a closer look but they were covered again.” 

“And I suppose it was the same thing in transfiguration a month ago?” You shook your head with an amused smile as you thought back to the encounter. It all seemed so obvious now.

“It was. Same thing with the quidditch match a few years ago too,” He leaned forward as if what he were about to tell you were a secret. Suddenly it was like he couldn’t let you go, not that he’d ever want to now that he’d finally found you. “What made me almost certain though was the little drawing you left on my parchment earlier. I knew I’d seen those before.” 

“Well I suppose it’s a good thing you’ve kept your eyes open unlike me apparently,” You were beaming as you glanced down at the matching pictures present on both of you. “What do we do now?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” George immediately stood, pulling you up with him. He grabbed hold of your jacket still sitting on the table and started pulling you out of the kitchens. “Now that we’ve found each other we’re going to make up for lost time.” 

“By doing what exactly?” You asked, eyebrows raised questioningly and a slight smirk on your face. 

“Head out of the gutter, love,” George laughed as the two of you walked back up the stairs still hand in hand. He looked down at you with a wild grin on his face. “We’re going on our first date if you’re up for it.” 

You agreed instantly and happily followed to wherever it was George would take you, just as you knew you always would from that moment on.

[jolynej]

may i ask some hc's for a bisexual artist reader dating bruno, giorno and doppio? 🥺 👉👈 (bonus: reader gets to flip off/ smack diabolo for interrupting dates lol) - 🎨

yes! sorry it took so long, honey! this was really fun to write!! hope you enjoy, bby!!

all characters are 20+ in this piece!

CW: implied nsfw, a curse word in Doppio’s part

• Immensely impressed with your artistic and creative capabilities, no matter your preferred medium. Each time that you present him with a finished copy of your work, his cerulean eyes light up, and his amber lips tug up to reveal a proud, dazzling smile. He gets worried that some of his compliments may sound repetitive, so he has developed a habit of commenting on and praising the most random aspects of your work. From anyone else it’d be odd to hear about that ‘handsome shade of green’ or the ‘fascinatingly sexy technique’ you used, but it’s Bruno, and you wouldn’t expect anything less

•If you’ll indulge him, he’s a big fan of sitting back and watching you work. Full warning though — those odd comments of his are in full abundance! The man truly hangs on to everything that you do and is very anticipatory of how your piece will turn out. But he is far from overbearing. He knows how bothersome it can be to have someone hovering over your shoulder, and he makes sure to allow you to have more than enough breathing room and space to work

•On special occasions such as anniversaries or your birthday — or even just on a random Tuesday, the man just loves surprising you, let’s be real — he’ll gift you art supplies. From brushes to paints, to art programs and aprons, Bruno has given you an array of art-related items. The moment you say that you’re eyeing something in particular or are running low on a particular supply, he mentally catalogues that information away for later

•100% into paint and sips! He signed you up for one as a date idea, and he found out that he really enjoyed himself. It’s a fun way for him to loosen up, relax, try something new, and to, of course, spend time with the person he loves most. He’s a bit of a giggly drunk, and he has definitely made you, and some other angry patrons, mess up due to his loud gasps and snorts and wheezes that he makes because he made such a silly little dolphin, wheeee!!

•Bruno offers to model for you — nude, if you don’t mind certain things popping up. He acts all suave and nonchalant when he proposes the idea, but when it comes down to the actual event of him posing on an ivory-colored sheet draped over a chaise lounge with one hand propping up his head and the other sat upon his thigh, he’s trying everything he can to keep himself from getting turned on. But there is something about the distinct way in which your eyes are narrowed in pure concentration, because of him, that gets him going

•He’s a good critic — he’s fair and offers constructive criticism but is never harsh nor rude, plus, he’s quick to remind you that he knows next to nothing about art and what exactly goes into the creation of your pieces, so he tells you to take his suggestions with a grain of salt, it’s just his way of trying to get you to challenge yourself and achieve even great heights! Still, Giorno always finds something in your latest piece that he admires, and his compliments are always very genuine

•Definitely hangs your work up in his office and whenever someone comments on the work or asks who the artist is, he just smirks and says in a knowing, smug tone that he’s intimately familiar with their other work and that he’s grateful for the exclusive access that his position as don has given him. Whether or not the innuendo is lost or not on the other party is solely dependent on their own inference

•Giorno will absolutely surprise you with your own art studio and/or gallery to display your pieces. While the actual work and planning that went into this took months of proper organizing and hours of him touring different venues to search for the perfect place, the don makes it seem so nonchalant and casual when he calls you out of the blue to tell you to meet him at ‘x address’ at 6:00 PM sharp for your birthday present

•If you have any plants in your works, then he may surprise you with a fresh cut flower or fern or even a potted sapling, depending on the specific species of flora that was featured in your piece. Don’t be shocked to find a vase of roses or hydrangeas or forget-me-nots, or any flower for that matter, on your kitchen counter when you come home from work. He leaves a handwritten note in gorgeous cursive that says something sappy along the lines of ‘I hope this bouquet blooms new inspiration, amore’

•Much like Bruno, he’ll be happy to model for you, and he’ll have no qualms about doing so nude, if you ask, but he probably won’t bring it up otherwise. He’s very patient and does a great job staying still for you, and he will also create a few spontaneous vines and blossoms to better accentuate his chiseled features, stringing the delicate petals through his golden hair and dotting a few at his feet

•Since the boss has him traveling all over, he’ll commission a small self-portrait of you to keep with him when he’s away. He’ll ask for a new picture every few months, which he explains is because he wants to keep up with your change in appearance, be it a new hairstyle/color, new glasses, a new piece of jewelry that he adores on you, etc... but honestly, he just wants to have as many pictures of you as he can — you’re just too lovely!

•Doppio brings up making one of those giant canvas pieces where you both cover yourselves in paint and make love on the canvas together. He had overheard Squalo and Tiziano discussing it one day, and he immediately found himself torn between whether you’d look cuter in pink or blue paint — or both. Doppio would love to sit and have his portrait painted; but alas, that wouldn’t go over well at all with the boss, so this, to him, is the next best thing! Plus! It’s a testament to the love that you both share, and no one has to know how it was made!

•During his travels, he’ll visit little gift shops and will mail back postcards that feature the work of local artists or photos of the scenery or native wildlife. He writes you a cute ‘I miss you’ letter and signs it with a tiny doodle, a heart, and in cursive he ends the note with a simple but intimate ‘your Doppio’ You should plan on making a scrapbook one of these days due to the amount of postcards that you’ve received over the years!

•You have a date night where you both paint along with an episode of Bob Ross, and to put it kindly, Doppio’s painting ends up on the fridge and not on your living room wall, but he’s still proud of himself, considering it’s his first time painting. A few days later, Diavolo walks by the refrigerator one day and asks you why ‘that tasteless shit’ is on display, causing you to scowl and smack him clean across his disgusted face

“Ah, tesoro...” Doppio winces, rubbing his cheek, red and hot from the impact of your harsh slap. “Why does my face hurt?”

[mileyjassie]

ασφαλής "safe".

Art made by @jasperiine

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, Drama.

Word count: 3.4k

Synopsis: You're a artist who fell in love with a statue that came back to life, you're both deep in love, but, since his curiosity and lack of trust make you feel betrayed you leave him behind and now he's searching for you to give him another chance while having to learn how to live in the modern world.

Author's note: I wrote this thinking about the history of eros and psyche, I hope you enjoy reading it.

My lovely one, learn to love, my Psyche.

You saw him for the first time when the golden, warm light of the sunset rested on top of his white, smooth shape, made of marble, finished with genuine perfection.

Few saw how magnificent he was, very few looked into his empty eyes and his well-sculpted lips and saw the true beauty that arose from his presence.

"Bullshit" You were told, some without malice, just disinterested, clearly you did not understand such ignorance, but said nothing because you knew that only you had the gift of seeing life in his curves. In this way, thus, you also avoided the jealousy that you felt trembling and going out of your ears when false words of admiration left the mouths of those who only longed for their own artistic contemplation.

You came back for him, sometimes alone, sometimes accompanied by a friend or more, those seeing him for the first time as well as other masterpieces...or those who knew him well, these keeping company since they knew that your path to him was inevitable.

You particularly admired it when you were alone, not many around cared about the time you spent, seeing you sitting on the floor below his figure, doodling or painting in your sketchbook.

It was a habit, a hobby, a kind of meditation, which brought you calm.

"You love him." One of your friends smiled, dictating a fact, not a joke. They knew it, saw it in your eyes and thought it was amusing, the artistic love and appreciation you had. "You keeps drawing this statue, you always comes to see him. This is a little strange." Smiled once more, receiving shakes and confirmations from the rest.

"Maybe I'm in love" You lifted a shoulder, hiding your furtive gaze to show your back and look again at the marble sculpture that lay just ahead.

His fingers touched his stomach differently, his nails were medium and square, you had drawn them several times, from all angles.

"Why don't you ask him out?" The question slid past you, you laughed quietly with it, as if it tickled you. "Why don't you ask him to marry you?"

"I already asked." You turned around again, to see them and shrug. "But he never answered me. I think I will wait forever." Laughter was spreading across the area as you sat next to them with crossed legs. "I think I was rejected..."

"He's making a fool of you."

"You think?" You turned your face, looking the marble marks.

"Do it again."

You narrowed your eyes, hiding your good mood.

"Should I?"

"Ask him again, persist, give him a kiss..."

You were surprised by the excitement that grew out of silence. They all wanted to indulge in entertainment, they wanted a scene to excite them.

You looked at the greek statue that persisted in its elaborate pose, you always wondered if he was seeing something, if he was warning something or if he was sacrificing himself for others. He looked like a petrified hero.

You put your hand on your face, pretending to blush at the indications and flirting suggestions that were being thrown at you.

You left them behind, walking like a lost maiden in the vast hall that you were at, even though there were no obstacles as far the statue in the column on the other side was, you pretended to be naive, meeting him by mistake.

"Oh" You exclaimed, hearing the giggles behind you. "Are you, my love? The one who calls for me?"

When you noticed that only your friends were the viewers, you were bold to go up on the marked block of marble, climbing your fingers through the fabric sculpted by a miraculous genius that covered part of his trunk and legs, listening to some cheeky "hm's".

"I'm here" you touched his cheek, looking at his lips. "I heard you cry out for help. I came to rescue you, my sweet angel."

Your friends hugged each other restlessly, hissing at each other for the romance scene they saw you star in. You tried not to lose focus, not to leave the character you created to satisfy your childish follies.

You closed your eyes just a little, seeing the simple details of his face while allowing your lips to touch the cold, rough surface of the marble, but you closed your eyes for a quick instant, really feeling like an real actress, like an true artist and lover of beauty.

When you heard gasps you didn't care so much, yet you were confused enough, the moment your eyes opened, you saw him inhale deeply and loudly, his eyelids trembling in half-blinkings, his arms resting around you, without strength, totally fragile.

His dark eyes remained stuck in yours, tired in your arms.

His parted lips made the sound you had fantasized about for so long.

"T...Thanks for saving me..."

For an instant the hall was lost, it was empty, silent, private. That was when you realized that you were indifferent about the situation, already astonished when it came to the boy.

His appearance filled you with tenderness, and in the same way filled you with sadness. It was like this?...Was like this how Hades felt when he first saw Persephone?

You took off your coat, covering the boy with blond, tousled hair, already kneeling and hiding himself in the fabric that covered his lower body.

"Are you coming with me, all right?" You murmured gently, waiting for his approval, receiving a innocent look, a little scared, but still seemed to trust what you weree saying. He nodded, accepting your help to stand and get off the block.

The reaction of the friends sitting on the floor on the other side was already expected, and you didn't blame them for that, you could be like that, but for some reason you chose not to be.

You didn't say goodbye to the others, you didn't think to do that at any time. You only had eyes for him.

You prepared him a hot bath, after that you gave him something to eat and offered him your own bed to rest, and you didn't ask for anything in return for that, on the opposite, you gave him the space he needed, nothing you asked for or waited for.

The next day, very early in the morning, a cold but well-lit morning, you woke up when he approached slowly, looking at your face silently and carefully.

"Are not you curious?... Don't you want to ask me anything?" He said calmly, however, curious.

"If that is your will, then I believe I am going to. If it is not, then I will not do it." You sat down, watching him for a while, wondering if he could hear your heart beat so hard. "You look comfortable, that's enough for me."

You stood up, standing beside him, running your fingertips along his side, just touching the woolen fabric of the long sweater you gave him to use.

"If you want to tell me something, just look for me." You whispered, walking away.

"My name is Soonyoung. They called me Hoshi."

You smiled to yourself, very satisfactorily.

"Hoshi... This name I know." You turned around, he did the same.

"For all this time I waited for someone to set me free. I felt alone, often empty... however" He came over, holding his own fingers "You have made me less lonely many days lately, I hoped you could save me... and you did. "

You felt your face flush, but you remained neutral, not wanting to waste his words.

"I just have to thank you." He said at last, making your shoulders relax with his sweetness.

You approached slowly, doing the same with the hand you brought to the side of his face.

"You are my greatest inspiration. I can only thank you for simply having this indescribable beauty that I have been drowning with for so long."

His lips parted in surprise, eyebrows trembled and the top of his ears burned in a vicious pink for your pupils.

Soonyoung had no more expressive reactions after that, so you left him again, not wanting to scare him with the infinite admiration that you had kept inside your head for so long.

"You're gonna have all the care you need. You are safe, Hoshi, calm your spirit."

"I hope..."

You turned around to find his body standing a little far, still trapped in his own imaginary space.

"I hope the gods make you the happiest woman in the world."

You touched his hand, taking him with you to your favorite room, leaving your shyness to satisfy his wishes.

"I know I told you many times not to go out, but I know you need hobbies and here I am providing you with my tools."

Soonyoung observed the room, he seemed impressed with the amount of materials, also happy to have something to do.

You showed him your canvases and your paints, your brushes and pencils, you took him to your table and made him sit down, leaving your hands lightly on his broad shoulders.

"I give you all my sketchbooks, I give you all my secrets, so I hope you find the peace that I find in you."

"Are you going to let me see everything? Are you sure about that?" He asked indecisively, he seemed to imagine all kinds of things that you could have drawn of him. He was right.

You moved your hands up his neck, sinking your fingers into his light, soft hair.

"I don't want to hide what is rightfully yours..."

You lowered yourself to the side of his face, resting your hands on his arms, with a low sigh his face turned towards yours, allowing you two to touch your lips.

You held his jaw, his hands finding your forearms to make you sit on his lap.

You held his face in your hands, noticing him looking for more contact by embracing your waist with one arm and with the other hand holding the back of your thigh.

You parted from his mouth with a foolish smile, receiving a soft smile from the boy in return.

"Do you love me that much? Do you swear to really love me?" He asked hopefully, blushing when you pecked his lips again.

"I'm doing all of this for you."

You stroked his hair, getting up to fetch some new books and putting them in order on the table.

"I have some books keeped, but I noticed that you have read most of them quickly because you were so vague and bored" You looked down, but he didn't seem to notice, he had curious eyes and hands on the books. "Many of them are to study, they are boring if I have to say. So I bought new ones, I hope you like it, I don't think you will be bored with these."

"I am so gratefull." He stood up, hugging you tight, you returned the gesture, completely overwhelmed.

"I am very happy, and extremely grateful, but still curious..."

You looked for his eyes, not understanding what still disturbed him.

"Tell me, my angel."

His hands lightly squeezed your arms, stroking for a moment.

"There is a room, always locked. You always gave me the freedom to explore your house, I didn't want to seem invasive anyway, that's why I never asked..."

You looked away.

"Don't go in there or ask me about it again, okay?" You smiled at the boy, he didn't seem to understand why you were avoiding it.

"Why can't I know what you're hiding there? What are you afraid of me finding out?"

You walked away from Soonyoung, stopping by the doorframe.

"I am giving you everything I have, I am giving you all my love and I asked you for nothing in return, so I warn you, my angel, if you let yourself be led by your curiosity, in the end you will be betraying my trust..."

You saw him press his lips and hide his regretful look, but he said nothing to you, so you left him in the room alone.

It was late at night when you woke up slowly in the void of dawn, trying to understand what disturbed you, if those sounds were of your fear or really true.

You got up, even leaving your room barefoot, wishing you didn't find him awake as you feared every night.

He had stolen you key, opened the room door that you had warned him to stay away, and hidden in the dark. He acted behind your back.

You found him with a tightness in your chest, disappointment was the only word that could describe the pure melancholy that was born in your heart, since you had nothing to hide but your good intentions.

The newspapers were on the table in the small office filled with photos of his sculpture. His eyes lit up on the news, messages, controversies on the computer screen. My friends being part of his miracle in interviews and publications, none of them stabbed or handed me over.

All the chaos that his disappearance brought to your life, all the situations where you had to repress yourself to protect him, emails filling your patience every day, all this you hid from him so that he wouldn't suffer from this turbulent new life. You did it to love you freely, you did it to love him freely.

Soonyoung looked at you confused, maybe sorry to find that nothing bad you hid. It was the opposite, you were protecting him.

"You were thinking about me, my love... I'm sorry."

"You betrayed me, Soonyoung, you betrayed my feelings, the trust I had in you." You watched him from a distance, in a way that you never would have, he noticed, and got hurt.

You walked away when he came to you in search of reconciliation, of affection, but you could not treat him with the same adoration that washed over him at all times.

Even if he killed you inside, you could not deny the sadness that possessed you thoughts, you left him behind, abandoned him, because you could not bear the truth that the love he felt for you weighed much less than the love you felt for him.

"Forgive me" he murmured with red eyes, you don't know if he was afraid to see you go.

You covered yourself with a thick coat, trying to escape his cold hands.

"Don't go, my darling, don't leave me!"

"I cannot stay, because if I look into your eyes I will not hold on, I will not be able to not forgive you, and this is not what my heart is asking so loudly at this moment." You said, sad to let go of his fingers, but so eager to go away. "Don't wait for me, I'm running away." You said at last, leaving your home behind.

"How long do you intend to run away?" One of my friends asked me, in which she gave me shelter, a little upset "Didn't say you loved him?"

You curled up on the upholstery, looking out the window at the blue sky.

"I'm so sad that you could never imagine my pain. Did I make a mistake? Shouldn't I have adored him so much?" You turned to the girl who was adjusting her belongings over the dressing table, not much distracted by your regrets.

"You cry so much but you do not accept to hear about the boy, you do not have the courage to know what our friends are doing with him. You, my friend, so fearless and passionate in the past, now do not seem more than a coward."

You closed your eyes with force and embarrassment, her criticisms hit you like sharp arrows that burned in harsh truths.

"Well, tell me, what did you do to him?" You got up, sitting in front of her on the bed, plagued by dark idealizations. "What are you getting him through?"

"Your friends care about you, but they were touched by the boy, who exudes empathy and sincerity" She approached, indifferent about your feelings, straightening your clothes and hair as if it were a simple morning conversation. "They challenged him to face the world, called him a parasite, ordered him to get a career, a job."

You gasped, astonished by the news, the boy who they said feeling empathy with barely knew how to use a computer and was being led to take unknown paths.

"How scared must my love be?"

"Don't whine having ignored his existence until now." She said impatiently, not letting go of your locks. "You need to stop talking and learn to listen."

"So tell me quickly, hurry up!"

"As I said before, the boy exudes sympathy and soon there was a charismatic reaction in our friends. Noting that he spoke weird, the first decided to teach him to speak correctly, taught him new words and practiced for days, holding on and becoming his closest friend."

You smiled, being interrupted before you mentioned any dazzle.

"The second soon realized that different clothes he didn't have, and being our richest friend was more than happy to buy new clothes for the boy who was so humble and listener. Gave him a new haircut, a set for every type of occasion and perfumes, and I have to confess "She sighed, rolling her eyes, taking her hands out of your hair. "I found it capriciously exaggerated, however, despite being disappointed I feel not surprised."

Noticing how obedient you remained and seeing the anxiety spilling out of your eyes, it didn't take long to proceed.

"Our third friend found out that he knew nothing about the new ways, that walking on the street could not do it alone and that the loud noises made him afraid. That good-hearted friend you have, gave part of the days to take care of the feelings and fears of your beloved, until walking on the sidewalks between crowds and witt cars disturbing your ears were no longer a problem."

You felt your shoulders relax, in incredible inner peace, until you looked up again.

"And you? What did you do?"

She looked at you from the corner, wickedness overflowing through her feline eyes.

"He got the job, now he works as a guide at the city museum, the same museum that you kissed him and left us behind." She paced the room with a sly smile, going over her belongings on the dressing table, going to the high desk by the window. "How can a dependent man like him be by your side if he falls apart when he sees you go? So weak, so sensitive. If he thinks he will have you at all times, I want him to know that it won't be like that, sometime you will have to leave him behind to come to us, the same I say inversely. "

She let the perversity spill and disappear, returning to being the controlled and wise girl from before.

"Did you ever see us flounce when you left us for the boy?" She looked at me, satisfied with my small negative head wave "On the contrary, there was no interference, we are more than that, we are free from blind attachments."

She sat down again, combing your hair back.

"My responsibility was to make him find you, that's what I was asked to do and I agreed, but to be honest, I didn't do anything." She shrugged, self-sufficient. "I said that the only way he would have to find you would have to be on his own, I didn't teach how to handle electronics, I didn't give tips, I didn't give a single picture of you."

You squeezed your eyebrows ready to complain, ready to defend the boy, but regretting the moment you saw her narrow eyes waiting for the cries she was listening these days.

You bowed your head, not knowing what to say or ask.

"Are you proud of him?"

You lifted your head, agreeing with a slight smile.

"I am."

"He worked hard for you, I'm not surprised, I really like him too."

You looked at her quickly with the comment she made, finding her face turned.

"He has earned our trust. But it is not our approval that he needs at the moment." She stood up, going to the window, being surprised, giving birth to an amused smile. "What are you waiting for to find him? Isn't your pain already healed?"

You raised your eyebrows, asking with euphoria rising in your chest. "He is outside?"

She nodded, you jumped out of bed quickly, out into the hall and down the stairs. Was that the reason you were getting ready all this time? You smiled at the thought.

When you were on the sidewalk of the house, you stopped for a moment to find him, but you saw no familiar silhouette, there were some civilians and gentlemen nearby selling fruits but you didn't find the boy you were looking for.

A soft and insecure hand touched your shoulder, you turned with the gesture, in a trance to find his dark hair, but his same sharp eyes staring at you with hope.

You got dizzy with the new details, with the accessories, with the denim jacket, with the sneakers, with the earrings, it didn't look like him, but it was him.

You looked down, seeing his hands holding one of your sketchbooks, a drawing of your face on it, an old self-portrait of an impatient sketch you did once.

He smiled widely, even letting out a laugh.

"You came back to me, my angel!" He said cheerfully, his voice filling the longing you felt, giving you chills for using the nickname you gave him and, of course, with the new pronunciation.

You gladly received his tight embrace, not wanting to loosen your grip on his body, after all you never wanted to stop loving him, not even for a single moment.

"You are the one who found me, love. You finally found me."

"Forgive me for what I did, I will never betray you again, soon you will see that it is more than possible for us to live happily, so come back with me..." he said muffled against your hair, hiding his face in your neck.

You stroked his hair, bringing his face close to yours, brushing lips and watching his small eyes narrow in anticipation for the first kiss so far.

"I know that, dear, and I forgive you. Because I love you."

𝒇𝒊𝒏.

[silvanable]

If request are open, could I ask for Theo, Vincent, Leo, Arthur and Dazai finding out that MC is a manga artist/writer? Thank you so much!!

this is such a cute idea. as an artist and writer myself i take enormous pleasure it writing this and their reactions.

i switched these up a little bit, where the mc is an artist for one, a writer for another, and maybe both for yet another! i hope you enjoy~

↪  GUIDELINES

ー ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

arthur just happens to find out on accident.

he knew that they had their hobbies and never really pried into that, it was something they did in their pastime just like how he was with his writing.

it just so happened to be that he was passing by the parlor when he noticed them inside with... was that his manuscript? and what were those other papers there?

nosiness curiosity got the best of him as he slips into the room to see what the mansion’s little visitor is up to.

he is, for once in his life, quite surprised to find the dear hunched over a pad of paper with a pencil in their hand.

he was quiet for a moment, examining what they were doing— which was clearly not writing— as their instrument moved over the page.

they shifted to look up at his manuscript, flipped a page, and was about to go back to their work when the noticed something from the corner of their eye.

arthur had leaned over the each of the seat, gaze fixed on the drawings in their lap and strewn about the table and seat.

the poor dear practically jumped out of their skin.

“arthur! don’t scare me like that!” they scolded him, face flush as they quickly tried to scramble and cover up their work.

“ah, was just curious to what you were doing, love,” he would flash them a grin and snatch up one of their papers before they could grab it.

“arthur, give it back!” they yelled in protest but he was far too quick for them.

his eyes scanned over the page, taking in the delicate lines of each character’s face and their expression, the texture and the design of the scenery and then his eyes fell to the dialogue...

“is this... holmes?” the genuine curiosity in his voice as he holds the paper out to them.

they try to snatch the page back but he jerks it up out of their reach before they can.

“yes okay! i’m sorry— i just saw your manuscript and i started reading it and... well, i just got inspired.”

now it has him curious and when arthur sets his mind to something, whether it be to unravel a mystery or get his questions answered, he’s going to get those answers.

after some encouragement, they finally admit to being a manga artist from their time— which as arthur understood was a unique artist who creates art to tell a story instead of words.

he is actually quite proud about the fact that his story is what motivated and drew out this creativity in them to the point they wanted to draw a ‘manga’ of his stories.

he absolutely keeps the page and a few other of their drawings he snatched up, every now and then when he’s working he finds himself drifting off to stare at it with a small smile.

ー DAZAI OSAMU

dazai was a writer and it seemed that the newest guest at the mansion was too.

of course, he never seemed to bring that up, as it seemed the writers of the mansion kept to themselves and wrote privately.

that was until the little darling had come stumbling up the stairs with an armful of paper.

of course they had not been looking where they were going, being rather preoccupied with trying to scribble down god-knows-what onto one of the pages, and walked straight into dazai as he was coming down.

he had acted fast, grabbing their wrist before they could tumble down the stairs, but the paper in their arms was less fortunate and thrown into the air.

“if you wanted to see me, ume-san, you could have just said so,” he greeted with his usual light and teasing voice.

the poor dear was flustered and apologizing profusely as they ducked around him, desperately trying to collect all of their paperwork.

well he was not just about to leave them like that, so dazai stooped to help them, only to find when he tried to reach for something they were quick to snatch it away.

the two made eye contact, both a look of surprise, as they stuttered out, “you don’t have to help— i dropped them.”

the reaction was rather cute but also he felt partially responsible, and because of this it became a game of who could snatch up what before the other.

“i— just— thanks, i’ll take those now!” the dear tried to take the papers from his hands once they were all collected, but the vampire danced around them breezily.

“why is toshiko-san so eager to get these back, hm?” he teased, flitting through what he had collected.

at first it was merely to poke fun, as he and arthur were known to do to people like poor isaac, but as he glanced over the notes and what looked like crude drawings he became intrigued.

those piercing golden eyes came up to a rather flustered person across from him, clearly embarrassed at having their work looked at.

“these are quite interesting,” his tone took on a strange seriousness as he handed them back, “what are they?”

even as flustered as the dear is, they take back their papers and shuffle them protectively in their arms, mutter a, “manga scripts and design ideas...”

of course the term was somewhat familiar to him, briefly recalling it being a rising trend before he died.

would become rather curious and invested in hearing about what the dear did in their time, finding it quite interesting that not only were they a writer but worked with artists to translate their stories visually.

ー LEONARDO DA VINCI

leonardo found it quite cute when he came across their little guest in their free time, seemingly distracted by whatever papers they had in their lap and strewn about them.

it was a reoccurring thing to find them like this as he wandered through the mansion on his way to his next nap.

this time though, that building curiosity of what they were doing finally seemed to reach the max and flood over as he approached them.

they did not seem to notice him from their seat on the floor until he was about a hairsbreadth from the side of their face.

“cara mia?” curse love languages not having gender neutral terms in their ear, causing the poor dear to jump out of their skin.

it was a wonder they didn’t headbutt in him the process and they all but threw themself across the floor to create some distance.

leonardo’s laughter was rather helpful to quell their panic, only for it to swift to a soft rage.

“leo— don’t ever do that again!” they scolded but by now the man had been distracted by the papers that had been haphazardly thrown in the dear’s attempt to flee danger.

golden eyes flickered over the pages as he gathered them up, some written over while other seemed to have sketches of what looked like persons.

they were quick to scramble back up to their feet and snatch the papers from leonardo, their face an uncharacteristically bright shade of red as they mumbled out, “they’re not ready yet...”

though their reaction and expression only seemed to encourage the vampire, after all, things that intrigued him he always pursued to understand investigate.

a soft hum escaped his lips as he looked down at them, only to snatch up another set up papers, ignoring the squeaks and protests to ‘don’t read it yet!’.

there was no getting them back at this point, as he used his height to his advantage against them, holding the pages high as he examined him.

and it suddenly made sense, it looked like a script and these little doodles were scenes from the scripts.

“quite creative, your story here,” leonardo handed back the pages to their flustered creator, “what is it?”

they hesitated as them shuffled the papers, hesitating for a moment before quietly, “a manga idea, something from my time, like a visual story.”

if he had not been intrigued before leonardo most certainly was now and he wanted to know exactly what sort of story they were making.

of course, he doesn’t push but he is more than willing to lend an ear for them to listen to the passionate and eager descriptions of their characters and, if needed, offer a suggest or two when they’re stuck.

ー THEODORUS VAN GOGH

having the lost pup new guest at the mansion following him while he worked was just a way to keep them out of trouble and help him out.

of course, he had never expected them to take such an interest in art as they had, marveling at every little detail, asking questions when they weren’t with a customer, and practically hanging onto every detail theo would spare.

he would never have guessed that everything they had picked up and learned from him on the job they were translating into their own work.

theo was never one particularly nosy and whatever they did in their spare time was their business as long as it didn’t mess with anything or anyone.

so imagine his irritation when they are late for breakfast and sebastian asks for him to go get them?

he walks in, ready to grab them by the arm and drag them out of their room so he might get the chance to enjoy his pancakes for a few moments of peace.

instead, he waltzes into their room finding them pouring over their desk with numerous pages scattered over the surface and stuck against the wall... and most any available space it seemed.

at first he was ready to ask them what sort of mess they were making but stopped as he began to draw closer and examine what they were doing.

it looked like they were... drawing? not that he would judge their strange style, as he was a promoter of the arts that were outside of the norm.

“oi, hondje,” he calls out to them, placing a hand on their head in a familiar way.

the squeak they make is almost laughable but he doesn’t have the chance before they recover and looking up at him quizzically.

“why are you awake so late?” it was a genuine question.

“late? it’s morning already, did you stay up all night?” theo is quick to shoot back, only to receive an even more confused expression.

that answered his question.

“what are you even working on that you would forget to sleep? i can’t have you dozing off at work you know,” he leans down over their desk and they suddenly get shy.

they are subtle, or at least try to be, as they shuffle papers and cross their arms over them, mumbling a soft ‘nothing’.

theo doesn’t take it though and instead turns his gaze up to the art displayed literally all over the room.

before they can even think to snatch drawings away he’s already asking questions, “did you draw these?” 

it takes a moment for them to respond, as they mull over a way to answer, but finally cave in to an explanation.

“yeah, i did,” they paused, expectantly staring but theo only waved his hand for them to continue.

“for a manga—something from my time, they, um, tell stories through pictures,” they explained, spreading out the papers on the desk again, “and i got an idea last night so...”

theo is thoroughly impressed, of course they have to explain further about the detailing and techniques— he’s going to ask after all.

there are times where theo will actually watch them draw, he likes to see artists in their element and this is something entirely new he wants to learn more of.

expect that he will have a sketch or two from them, would deny it, but he keeps it in the breast pocket of his coat.

ー VINCENT VAN GOGH

vincent found it quite enjoyable having another person at the mansion, especially with how they spent time with him.

of course he knew they were an artist too, it had come up one day when they were together, while he was painting and they seemed to be doing something in their notebook.

he had asked about their work and if they would let him see but they seemed to get flustered, so he let it rest, after all he wasn’t going to force them.

but still they came around to spend afternoons together, drawing or painting, in silence with the occasional conversation.

one day that they had stayed out rather late in the garden, vincent hadn’t noticed the time passing until it was too dark to continue.

as he packed up his things, he was talking, but got no response back from his friend, and when he turned around to check if they were gone, he found them asleep on the ground.

he felt rather back for not noticing earlier, seeing as the ground probably wasn’t all that comfort and that they hadn’t said how tired they were— he wouldn’t have asked them to spend time outside if they needed rest!

vincent was quiet as he approached their sleeping form, ready to gently rouse them as he outstretched his hand, but stopped as something caught his eye.

in the evening sun, the pages from their notebook were illuminated by the fading sun.

he didn’t mean to pry, truly, but he couldn’t help curiously picking up the book and examining the pages.

some were full of notes, others these beautiful drawings, and more still with a combination of both.

one drawing in particular had caught his eye, a series of scenes it seemed, of someone who looked a lot like him making his way to the gardens and painting...

“mhmm... vincent?” they peeked an eye open groggily, rubbing their face as they looked up at him sitting beside them.

“is it dark already? i’m sorry i didn’t mean to fall asleep—” they sat up, stretching, only to stop halfway through the motion when they saw their notebook in his hand.

they flushed red but vincent only smiled sweetly as he offered them the book back.

“i like your drawings,” he said softly, “they’re very beautiful.”

they were hesitant but took back their notebook, redder if it were possible, as they mumbled a ‘thank you’.

“who were the other people in your drawings?” vincent asked as he stood, holding out a hand towards them.

“uh, well,” they accepted and were pulled to their feet as they explained, “they’re fictional—not real—for a story i was doing...”

vincent cocked his head cutely to the side as he listened, “what kind of story?”

“a visual on, a manga from my time,” they explained as the both of them began to gather up their supplies.

on the way back to the mansion, vincent listened as they explained, he found it quite interesting that someone would paint out a story, but enjoyed the idea.

vincent finds the whole idea quite fascinating and often asks them about their stories afterwards.

they are still flustered to show him many of their drawings, but vincent is sweet about it each time, and has invited them to try painting their ideas on a canvas saying he would love to see how their style reflects.

definitely adores all their drawings, his favorite ones are when they do simple doodles of the members of the mansion, often claiming they’re not great, but he loves them.

absolutely reads their manga stories, whatever they’re willing to let vincent read and he is enthralled by the stories and characters.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Same anon thank you for answering my question! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for MTMTE Rung, Megatron, Rodimus, Minimus, and Swerve with an Artisic human reader that just sees the good and creative artist side of everything? From books to pictures to even their own bot? Like they can just look at their bot and go out on a whole rant on how beautiful their optics are from the color to their expression. if that’s too many characters you can take any one, I don’t mind! Thank you and have a good day ❤️

You're welcome! I'm always open for clarification, so feel free to ask questions about whatever you'd like if you're unsure on anything. I took a little liberty with this one, but I've got all the requested bots because darn it all these beautiful mechs deserve recognition!

Rung

·He discovers your artistic inclination thanks to years of experience reading personalities and emotions at a glance, but he wasn't prepared for the depth of your conviction in seeing the world through a creative lens, which he learned upon speaking to you about your process as an artist. This surprise grows as he sees you sketching around the ship, your exuberance for the inherent beauty in everything coming through in every conversation you share.

·When he praises some of your sketches on a quiet day in his office and is compelled to ask how you developed your style, he's fascinated by your explanation, and his spark is warmed by how beautifully you describe the world around you and credit it for inspiring you. He's visibly shocked when your list of current subjects and muses includes him specifically, and you can't help but chuckle at the usually calm bot looking so absolutely flustered. There's no way for him to hide any of that feeling when he requests a bit of clarification; there's hundreds of bots on board, what about him could possibly stand out?

·You're happy to elaborate on your process to a bot who so regularly underestimates his worth and lay out why he in particular piques your interest. The warmth and goodness of his being is such a rare and beautiful thing, you explain, but also so rarely appreciated that it drives you to try and capture that essence in a manner one can see. How could you not? Such compassion and empathy and forgiveness should be remembered! You've also seen that he's capable of accepting any genuine apology, and to have that level of mercy after so much war is beautiful, enough that you have to try and show it.

·To say he's touched is an understatement of unfathomable proportions. Removing his lenses to clear optics blurred with tears, he doesn't even know how to begin processing your praise of his character when you add that his physical self hardly fails to encourage you either. His glasses nearly slip from his hands when he hears you say that. You continue quite easily; the kindness in his optics and the sweetness of his smile, combined with his genuinely handsome profile, simply inspire you to start sketching.

·He's touched, but you have to understand, he is NOT accustomed to this level of praise. Between the near tears and the blushing he has to politely excuse himself to recover from this absolute tsunami of emotions, but being flustered and melted at once is enough to have him smiling through a little blush all day long. While he tries to take a little bit of your mindset into his everyday life going forward, he gets a bit dazed every time he sees a sketch of yours that includes his face, as that level of artistic devotion being dedicated to him is more than he'll ever be able to process. Not that he minds...

Megatron

·Being more familiar with the written word, he enjoys the arts but has little experience with those who create them, and time has not been on his side in regards to learning more. Thus, you're one of the first artistically inclined individuals he's been able to discuss the topic with, which he was motivated to do after catching a glimpse of your work. He could swear some of your sketches bear a resemblance to him, but he says nothing on the matter and is certain his optics are tricking him.

·Your talk of technique quickly surprises him by shifting to inspiration, which to you is the primary driving force of your work, as it influences how you go about conveying the subject matter. Eager to share what you mean, you explain that anything can have beauty worthy of capturing if you just take the time to look at it right. Even the most mundane or seemingly unappealing things can be remarkable if you know their story, and you want to convey that energy as wordlessly as possible.

·A little overwhelmed but quite impressed by your manner of reasoning, he rather jokingly asks if even beings like himself could ever inspire you, or perhaps another artist with your mindset. He's caught off gaurd like never before when you, quite enthusiastically, reply that he most certainly can and does! To keep his composure he recalls portraits of his likeness being commissioned to inspire his soldiers, but never believing these fell under the category of art so much as they did propaganda. They often depicted him quite... violently as well.

·Having never seen these pieces, you reply that your own experience is tied more to how you see him now, and you flip through your sketchbook to demonstrate. As close to your level as can be, he's speechless while you explain what you wanted to capture about him in each sketch, whether it's a quick study or a detailed project; and that's how safe he makes you feel. Hearing himself referred to as a protector cuts straight through his powerful armor.

·You depict him looking almost... gentle? Hearing you describe the his immense size as a source of comfort and his strength as a tool of keeping peace processes about as clearly to him as a foreign language, but he nods along and keeps the conversation going until his duties call him away. Though he says nothing of it, he volunteers himself for more of the physically demanding work around the ship. His body's purpose had always been decided for him, but you've reminded him he has the only true say in its use, and that everything really is a matter of perspective. Perhaps he'll take up sketching once this is all over.

Rodimus

·He's certainly always had an appreciation for visual appeal, even if his idea of beauty doesn't often overlap with what most would consider artistically valuable. This and his natural alertness makes him quick to notice you often sketch about the ship, frequently when he's present, but at first he leaves you alone to work in peace. Having a hobby on this crew is beyond valuable, and he doesn't want to distract you from a passion... That is, until he decides on one especially slow day to just ask you what you like to doodle about.

·You can tell he wants to be a little nosy, if only because he's naturally a curious bot about these things, but you're more than happy to share regardless. There's a lot due to the ample downtime on the quest, and he has to squint so he can properly scan the many sketches on the human sized paper. He happily recognizes friends, locales about the ship, even earth things he knows about... but he's not ready when he finds a picture of himself.

·While he remains outwardly playful, teasing you with how he'd pose if you only asked, he's internally flattered that you took the time to draw him. More specifically, he's touched by the way you drew him. The sketches and portraits portray him as a calm but amicable leader, standing tall and serving as a guide to those around him, a true "father to his men" kind of bot... it's everything he wants to be, but is quite certain he's not. He's barely able to keep up his smooth persona when he asks about your process.

·You explain that you find inspiration in everything, but he's been your chosen subject lately for a lot of reasons. It's no secret he's handsome, but you see something more when you look at him, and you did everything you could to show it here; there's a real leader in him. Maybe some bots don't see it under all the bluster and sarcasm, but you see how much he cares for every bot on his crew. He wants to be the best for all of them, and even if he struggles at times, that effort is beautiful to you.

·It takes everything in him to bite back some very embarrassing tears, and the crack in his voice doesn't help him hide the emotion, though he covers that up with unconvincing coughs and claims something got in his optic. From then on he seems to stand a little taller and find his assigned duties a little easier to bear, but you absolutely notice how he poses in what he believes to be heroic fashion whenever your sketchbook comes out. Inspired by his enthusiasm, you invite him to model more officially, and the crew is just happy to see him so enthusiastic.

Minimus

·Being as observant as he is, your consistent appraisal of your surroundings is not something he'd ever miss, but your frequent sketching in the most random places does leave him absolutely mystified. Every time he sees you there's artistic supplies on your person, but he can't find anything that appears to be worthy of putting to paper, so what could you be drawing? He respects your privacy too much, and feels too silly about his curiosity, to interpret and ask you for an explanation.

·Thus it's with some small eagerness that he finds one of your sketchbooks after it's been misplaced, and he sees the perfect opportunity to slip in a question. For the sake of handling something so tiny, he approaches without his armor, offering the lost item back with barely concealed pride at your delight to have it returned. In the moment of truth he nearly falters, but does indeed manage to ask what you draw around the ship. He leaves out the fact that he's observed you whenever you draw in his presence.

·The question has an answer only he seems to think isn't obvious; him! You spend time together frequently, and while everything is fair game for sketching, he's a very regular subject for you. Whether he's wearing the Magnus armor or not, you explain that the commanding aura he radiates is something you can't help but find beautiful. That word choice baffles him enough that he has to interrupt; beautiful? Commanding? Even without his armor?? You're delighted to assure him that you absolutely mean that.

·Hearing you describe the details of your reasoning, like the quiet dignity of his stance or the calm intelligence of his red optics, touches his spark in ways he wasn't expecting. He's calm and speaks softly as he keeps the conversation going, asking questions about your various works and listening attentively when you answer, processing your view of the universe as being packed with beauty in all the places people don't think to look.

·Any bot that sees him during the remainder of the day absolutely notices the change to his entire demeanor; namely that he's smiling a soft and barely perceptible smile. It's not long after he requests a few sketches from you to keep in his office, whether they're of him or not, and he has them framed in places of honor. He doesn't tell you, but you figure it out, that one particular drawing of him you gift for his sake is kept securely stored in a compartment by his spark.

Swerve

·Many bots may see him being a tad bit on the shallow side when it comes to the arts, but our beloved barkeep has his own unique appreciation for creativity and all the ways it can be visually expressed, and you recognize it not long after meeting him. As his bar is a frequent hangout for everyone, you find it to be a fantastic place to sit and sketch, as the variety of bots makes it quite easy to have your choice of subjects even if you have to sit on a table. Obviously Swerve notices and asks you what you're drawing when traffic slows one evening.

·You're happy to show him your work and he's always eager to hear what everyone is up to, so he starts asking questions about your art in general. How long have you been an artist? What's it like suddenly having a whole ship of aliens to sketch? Why draw here all the time? At that query you light up brilliantly, and he's delighted by your enthusiasm as you describe all the incredible sights the bar has to offer.

·You list some of your favorite things to draw, like the many friend groups on the ship that gather here, the brilliant colors of the glowing vats of enjex, and him smiling and rushing with orders through it all. That last one gets a flash of surprise from behind his visor, which is quickly overtaken by exuberant delight; you've been drawing him?! He babbles out a surge of confusing statements that you're eventually able to interpret as a request to see, just one he's too bashful to say directly.

·Happily obliging, you're touched by how he smiles at every little sketch, and feel compelled to explain that he's a big part of why you love drawing here. You try to see beauty in everything, even what often gets overlooked, and there's so very much of that here. The bar is one of those places that everyone knows is special, but you know he's the reason they love it like they do, and that his enthusiasm and hard work hold it all together. You find that inspiring, and actually quite beautiful. It doesn't hurt that his brilliant smile is always a treat to sketch.

·Trying to play it cool and totally failing, he doesn't quite hide that he's near to tears when he asks if you'd like to hang some of your work up in the bar, or maybe have a little corner for yourself to draw from. He just doesn't want you getting squished while you sketch, is all! And having a better vantage point is ideal for someone so small! When you accept, he gives you your own human sized accommodations not too far from the heart of the bar, and every so often when you sketch he'll glance up at you absolutely beaming.

[spade-snax]

Alright, follow-up post to the "ooooo serious post" I made earlier. You can tell I wasn't really feeling too well when I made it appear ten times more serious than it really is. My apologies, I was overthinking things again.

But my point stands, it is more serious than more things and I need to step my foot down and listen to my needs. (And all the other things around me. Oh, here's a quick sorry again if this is written way worse than my previous post, I woke up a while ago and I haven't been able to stop thinking about this since I went to sleep.)

What I want to talk about first is the name for the AU, being "Cingesnax". I haven't chosen the name myself, it popped up suddenly and people began using it/recognizing the AU as such and so I began tagging my reblogs and posts using the name. However to myself I still just call it "Shadow Filbo AU"

I'm not naming names, and you probably know who I am talking about but for a while there was an user who felt quite hurt by the use of "Cringe" in the name. I don't really like the name either, but I don't mind it as much.

I hammer it in often, which I am sure everyone knows and respects but - this AU is NOT meant for any harassment or making fun out of things. It's purely lighthearted fun and shitposting. It's tributing those things. To me these characters are based on me and my childhood which I poke fun at.

I can see why someone would feel hurt or targeted by the use of the word cringe around these things, considering how it's been used/overused to harm people.

I feel like I had to address this because I do not want to feel like anyone is targeted because of my creation. There won't always be people who like it, yes - but as the creator I feel liek I need to take some respolsibility here. And seeing people ahrmed is the last thing I want, really.

(The person does understand now though, they've replied to me and they're fine, so that's good, but I wonder if there's people who feel upset and haven't spoken up. I mean, that's their thing, they can just block the tag, which is why I overtag my things wich character names and such if you just don't want to see them for any reasons, especially triggers.)

I am still overthinking this and making this more serious, sure. And I KNOW not everyone will read and agree to this, but a simple solution to stop people from coming to conclusions would be figuring out a new name, or just me hammering it in even more as the og creator of this whole thing that it is lighthearted fun.

(Hell, a lot of the things being "made fun of" in this AU I genuinely like or are still a part of. Like Furry Gramble - I am a furry myself, and as I've said many times before he is heavily based on me when I was a younger, way more edgy furry kid.)

But that isn't the main and only reason why I am here and I am just overexplaining myself and making things appear way worse than they are. It's just me overthinking, really - but I still feel like letting everyone know and be responsible is important. Just a lil' reminder, a bop on the head if you will. Nothing too bad, but I fear nobody will read it if I'm not serious in the slightest.

Anyways, onto the other thing, being how this affected me as a peson. I absolutely LOVE seeing everyone's involvement and creations! I'm so very glad my creation brings joy to so many people, not only me and my friends. That it brings us together to just have fun, bond, and create. As said to me before, the fandom hasn't had anything like this before so I believe Shadow Filbo is important in that regard.

I'm still just a person and I want to talk about my work and interests to other people. Like people, you know. But I've also made it as an effort as a creator of a thing to respond to all the fanart I get, and just help people's work get out there. Same with OCs and all other creations within the AU. It all deserves to be seen, you're a great artist. And it makes me really happy to see people happy themselves when I respond to their work.

And even if the amount of stuff I've been getting daily has slowed down, it's still quite overwhelming to me sometimes. It feels like a chore sometimes and I don't wanna force a "YOOO ADSJDFEWRGREWGBRSTH" reaction onto everything because it's not always so genuine. I love seeing all the work but I won't have the excitement if reblogging it and putting in all the tags feels like a chore to me.

I want all this to be genuine and I've been feeling drained. It's absolutely amazing and I am glad that I had the chance and luck to have my work well-knowna nd noticed within a small community to be recognized even by the CREATORS of the thing I am hyperfixating on. But at the same time I feel responsible for a lot of stuff, and the effort I've made to be interactive is quite draining, as I've stated before.

It's taking a bit of a toll on me, and getting more stuff to respond to is like - dishes in the sink piling up into a bigger pile. I genuinely love all of this, but I'm just tired. I need a little break from responding to all of this... Just all the attention and stuff is making me socially exhausted. Definitely the fact I'm a massive introvert and my ADHD kicking in veery nicely. /s

I'm probably going to only reblog stuff involving my characters for the AU and Shadow Filbo himself - and any discussion in regards to the AU. Not someone else's art and OCs for the AU. There's a lot of it. Anyways, I'm starting to lag a little bit with how long this is getting. Yes, my computer is just that weak.

I'm already loosing track of what I've said but, yeah.

This AU has been great, I love it. I love you guys. I am happy for all the cool new people I've met, even if we aren't exactly friends. It's taken a bit of a toll on me and I'll do my best to take care of myself and just - not let it take effect on me. And I hope we can keep this place as accepting and inviting as it can be. Even if it takes changing the name etc. Though i know I cannot change individual folk's opinions.

Yeah, this is realy long now and I am getting double thoughts on this - and I have a test in 20 minutes so I am not sure how active I can be with this, but I doubt I'll be getting many responses yet considering it's 3 or so AM in the US. (9:50 AM here)

Cya guys, take care too. I'll upload a doodle I did yesterday as a little comfort thing after this :)

I hope I can get back onto working on OCs too, and just kinda sit down without artblock or executive dysfunction. Buh-bye now

(Also, sorry this is written in weird blocks/paragraphs, I'm doing this so it's easy on *my* eyes.)

[bellafarallones2]

a/n: t-rated indruck fluff from #21 on Veronica Bunch's college au prompt list: I get stuck with a late class that doesn’t end until 9pm and I’m always anxious about walking across the campus to the dorms, so you offer to walk with me and one night, I find out that it’s in the exact opposite direction that you need to go in

Duck had signed up for Performance Studies because he needed arts credits and because the meeting time, seven to nine in the evening Tuesdays and Thursdays, worked well with the rest of his schedule. He was less happy when the professor emailed out the homework for the first day: a reading that examined the question “what is performance?” for thirteen dense pages without managing to come to a conclusion.

By the time he showed up to the first class, he barely remembered any of the points the reading had made. Most of the other students already seemed to know each other, and were talking in groups when he arrived. Only one man, a tall guy with silver hair whose black roots suggested he’d spent an evening bent over a sink for it, was sitting alone and silent.

“Anyone sitting here?” said Duck.

“You?” said the guy hopefully. He was wearing jeans and a soft beige cardigan over his white shirt, and there was a small rainbow-flag patch on his black backpack.

“I’m Duck,” Duck said. “And my pronouns are he/him.” He still occasionally got read as a butch lesbian, and it was better to establish the pronoun thing right out of the gate.

“Indrid. I also use he/him.”

That was all they said before the professor showed up and class began. The professor genuinely cared about the material, which made the whole thing more interesting, though Duck was still distracted. Indrid had very nice hands, nails painted chipped black, and he doodled the entire class, filling a whole page with spiky fractals.

Finally nine o’clock arrived. The sky outside was pitch-black. “I’m not really looking forward to walking home this late,” Duck said as he stood waiting for Indrid to finish packing up. “Wish I had your punk privilege.”

“Excuse me?” Indrid looked amused.

“You know. You’re tall and you have piercings.” As Duck said that, Indrid stood up, revealing that he was even taller than Duck had previously thought. Jesus, this guy had Slenderman legs. “You look like you could throw a punch.”

“I could use my punk privilege to walk you home, if you’d like.”

“I’d appreciate it, if it’s not too out of your way - I live on High Street next to the REI.”

“Yeah, I’m going that way.”

Duck held the door as they left the building and walked together down the half-lit street. The planes of Indrid’s face looked almost unearthly in the streetlights.

“You an art major?” Duck asked.

“Visual arts and math. I needed to take something in theater or music as a distribution requirement and this was the least theater or music class I could find that was also after noon.”

Duck laughed. “Yeah, I’m in the forestry program and I had to take something artsy.”

Indrid nodded. They walked in silence for a while, but Indrid didn’t seem to mind, his hands shoved into his pockets and his face turned up.

“This is me,” Duck said when they reached the REI. The door to the apartments above was almost unnoticeable next to the brightly-lit storefront.

“Alright,” Indrid said as Duck fiddled with his key. “See you on Thursday!”

“Goodnight!” said Duck when the door swung open, looking around. As soon as Indrid saw that Duck was inside, he turned and walked back the way they’d come. Duck wondered vaguely where he lived; this block didn’t have many students. Ah, well. A question for another day.

--

On Thursday before class Duck stopped at the snack bar for dinner and spotted a familiar head of silver hair. Indrid was drawing, his head tilted at an odd angle so he could both look at the page and drink from the straw on a sixteen-ounce cherry slushy.

“Mind if I join you?” said Duck.

Indrid looked up and his face lit up. “Of course! I don’t mind, I mean. Please sit.”

Duck realized then that what he’d assumed was art was in fact math, that Indrid was taking notes out of a slim, intimidating textbook. Duck recognized a couple of integral signs and that was about it. “Math, huh?”

Indrid nodded.

“I had to take Calc 2 for my major, I wish I’d known you then so you could have helped me with it.”

Indrid laughed, tapping his pencil. “I’d have been happy to. Certainly numbers make more sense than people do, sometimes.”

“Probably more sense than that performance reading.” Duck leaned forward. “I don’t suppose you’d be down to walk me home again?”

Indrid shrugged. “You’re good company.”

--

Duck met Indrid again at the local park that weekend. Their homework for the week was to record themselves performing in a way they did in their daily lives, and Duck didn’t feel like getting into gender, so he’d decided to show how he performed when giving a nature talk, and he’d asked Indrid to help film. (He’d offered to help film Indrid’s performance in return, but Indrid had politely declined, joking about performance anxiety.)

It was less awkward than Duck had been expecting. He walked around the park, pointing out the fungus on a tree trunk and a frog sitting with just its eyes over the surface of the water. Indrid, filming on Duck’s phone, smiled encouragingly whenever he met Duck’s eyes, and it was all Duck could do not to break his train of thought to grin back.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said when he was done.

“Thank you for the free nature walk!” said Indrid as he handed Duck’s phone back to him. Their hands brushed against Duck’s smooth phone case. “I come here to draw sometimes, but I’ve never noticed all that before.”

--

They watched everyone’s videos in class that week. Most of them were pretty boring. Duck cringed through the playing of his own video, though Indrid had done a good job with the camerawork, and a few of the music majors in the class had recorded themselves playing their instruments, which was at least nice to listen to. And then it was Indrid’s turn.

The video opened on a close-up shot of Indrid’s face. I am an artist, the voiceover said, Indrid’s own voice booming across the classroom. Sometimes I even look like it.

The Indrid on the screen bent his head - he was looking not at the camera but at a mirror behind it, putting on heavy eyeliner and spotty mascara. He switched out the subtle studs along the shell of his ear for something heavier, flashier, chain running between the holes. Then he stepped back from the camera and shrugged on a black leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders. A punk jacket. He posed, self-conscious, and as he started laughing the camera cut sharply to his face, again large.

I had an internship last summer with an insurance company calculating risk. He rubbed the makeup off his face with a makeup wipe, his eyes reddening slightly at the contact. He removed the jacket and folded it carefully before placing it out of frame. And then he picked up a pale blue button-down and buttoned it carefully down over his undershirt, and tied a tie in a perfect Windsor around his neck. He removed the bar from his eyebrow and the chains from his ears, which looked rather naked without them.

I perform to look like the things I know I can do. He dabbed concealer over the rosy maple moth tattooed at his neck, one wingtip peeking over the collar of the shirt. Then he held his hand out for a handshake, a business handshake, and sure, he looked like the kind of person Duck would trust to sell insurance. But there was something about his smile, something Duck wondered if anyone else could see. Something that lingered no matter what he wore.

Duck probably should spend less time thinking about his mouth.

--

“So my lease ends in January,” said Duck casually as they turned the corner onto his street. “And I’ve been having trouble finding other places that rent to students in this neighborhood, so I was wondering how you found your place.”

“Oh,” said Indrid, sounding guilty. “Well, I don’t know how much help I can be. I live up by the corner of 16th street and Broad.”

Duck did some quick mental geography as he climbed the step up to the front door. “That’s completely the other direction!”

“I know.” He was dressed like neither an insurance salesman nor a metal punk, today, with gold studs glittering in his ears like grains of sand and a soft, oversized sweater falling off one shoulder. The black roots of his hair had grown since the beginning of the term.

“You told me the first day of class that walking home wouldn’t be going out of your way! You know I don’t need walking home, right?”

“Of course. I just. Uh. I wanted to spend more time with you. I’m sorry for misleading you, we can stop if it makes you feel weird.”

Duck looked down at him. Indrid stood silently, awaiting judgment. “How about you come in?”

Indrid looked up. “I don’t mean to impose, it’s no trouble to walk home -”

Duck held out his hand. Indrid took it and followed him up the stairs without letting go. “You aren’t allergic to cats, are you?” Duck said when he finally had to take his hand back to unlock the door.

“Even if I was, I’d happily resign myself to sneezing.”

Duck opened the door and, as soon as Indrid was inside, crowded him up against it. Indrid slowly lifted his hands, trembling, and rested them on Duck’s shoulders. His gaze beneath his glasses flicked from Duck’s eyes to his lips and back again.

“Can I kiss you?” Duck said.

“Yes please.”

Indrid’s mouth was warm and soft and yielded so easily to Duck’s tongue, fuck, they should have done this sooner. Class would have been so much more bearable if he could have been looking over at Indrid’s lips the whole time knowing that as soon as class was over he could drag him out into the hallway, into one of the gender-neutral bathrooms in the arts building and kiss him silly.

“You don’t have any morning classes tomorrow, do you?” Duck asked when he finally pulled away enough to speak.

Indrid shook his head.

“Want to watch a movie and make out?”

“That sounds perfect.”

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

Ooc: youve inspired me to start a project similar to this blog. Could you tell me a bit about your thought process coming up with the plot and stuff? And if you have any tips?

Woah! I’m really flattered I inspired you, best of luck with it and make sure to @ me when you make it I’ll be sure to check it out!

As for some tips, I have no idea if these are useful mind you as this is my first time doing this sort of thing but

I crafted the plot specifically around the idea that I would reveal it through a tumblr blog. Yes I would have some good shit posts, and some scenes that would work well for a fic, but the bottom line was that this was using the tumblr blog format, therefore I would have to craft everything with the weaknesses in mind, while also just turning up all the strengths to eleven

Moreover on that, I’m not sure exactly what aspects you’re deriving from here, but I also crafted the plot specifically around the fact that I cannot draw. So, I have to amp up the options I have for texts and fonts, which then birthed my character distinct font/color system. You might not notice it, but it’s a lot more immersive than just writing Asivus: Hello Arcadius: Hi there

On the final note of knowing my strengths and weaknesses, since I suck at drawing, I just decided to make that a part of Siv’s character. Siv, as you may notice, is the only character who is actually hand written, everyone else uses fonts. (There are actually two exceptions to this but, that’s a spoiler) I knew that viewer attention likes pictures, it’s going to be impossible to maintain attention on just text posts alone. So—shitty rat doodles. And if anyone calls me a bad artist, I can say that it’s just part of Siv’s character. Although, I suppose I blew that excuse out of the water just now

I do not consider this to be an ask blog. I know by all accounts it is, and honestly if I looked in my soul I’d probably find myself outright admitting it, but I find this to be a fanfic first and foremost. Remembering that it’s a fanfic is important for me, because I have to remember to stop and plan exactly what I’m answer and how I’m answering it, I can’t just jump at every ask and dump the whole character backstory, especially in the sense that I’m role playing every single one of these characters and that just wouldn’t be realistic

The Quill of Roost, believe it or not, was actually the very last thing I conceptualized about the plot. This is because originally, I was going to just have Asivus explain from the start that he ate a piece of Sheikah tech and could now hear things, and anyone in a radius around him would have the same gimmick of “answering” asks.

The reason why that was ultimately scrapped was because it grounded my story too much in the world of an “ask blog” with the idea being that the reason Siv answered questions was “just because” and then he would hang around the castle so Purah and Robbie could study him

So long story short for that part, my advice would be to ground your ask system in a way that makes sense and it original for your specific story/plot. It makes it more immersive, and also reminds you of the “rules” you have to follow, in order to keep yourself on track of actually telling the story, rather than just sitting around answering asks for an hour. Obviously that’s part of it, but don’t make it all of it

I’m not one to toot my own horn too much, but I’m pretty good at writing. Ironically, imagery is my favourite, but that’s pretty useless in the realm of this blog. On the plus side I’m pretty quick with dialogue, and I have spent a lot of time crafting the characters, both OCs and the Nintendo ones. There was an original concept for a third sibling in the Hartell family, and she would go on to have an important talk with Asivus during the rise of the Calamity (no spoilers!) but I scrapped her because I realized that even though I loved her, her role could be easily replaced by another more developed character. I think it works out for the best because this just allows me to give certain characters more “screentime” and love, though of course you should do what you want to for fun. Then again, the ultimate advice I have in that regard is to prioritize development of story and main characters first before you spend too much time with lovable side characters

Plot and character are not inherently seperate. Yes they have their differences, but if you make something that is “purely plot” or “purely character” you’re gonna have a bad time. A good plot is an external reflection of what changes your characters go through. And a good plot forces your characters to make decisions and actions, with thise decisions and actions showing their character traits. Plot is a constant waveform between characters reacting to something that happens to them, then giving their emotional reaction to the events, before make a choice that’s sparks the next events of the plot

A plotless blog looks like this: Hello I’m Asivus I don’t like my brother. He’s a perfect golden boy while I’m just the rotten scapegoat for when anything goes wrong. Oh no, I talked to Larc for one scene and now I realized that I’m just internalizing my insecurities and taking it out on him. Wait a moment where am I

A characterless blog looks like this: Hello I’m Asivus. Today I am going to go out for a stroll. Oh look it’s my brother he wants me to take a job at the castle, okay! Oh look, the Yiga are attacking, I am going to eat a quill now. Horray! The day is saved

Character provides the “reaction” part of story, the emotion and the stakes. Plot provides the “action” part of the story, the pacing and the movement. It’s easy to cling to character because it’s designed to be emotionally investing, but a good story utilizes both. Good plot provides good pacing for character. Just as an example: Siv going from reluctant employee to perilous hostage to active conspirator, is the plot device that paces the change from his apathy to genuine concern.

I don’t know if this is too broad or not or if you wanted me to be more specific to botw, but hopefully that was something if use. Feel absolutely free to ask more because I have many a thought about this and I would love the chance to rant again lol

Also please excuse any typos

[dreaming-of-assclass]

CURSED MINDS THINK ALIKE BAHDJSNSKS

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before!” Feat Okajima suddenly Discovering he likes Hayami because of her personality and not bcz of her appearance or whatever

While accepting she won’t like him back and... angst lmao? Or no angst you decide haha :eyes:

If anyone is confused, this came from both me and Nao thinking of a Valentine’s prompt for Hayami/Okajima 😂 aka the ship we love in a serious way and a crack way lmao. 

This turned out be more of an introspective character study lol, but I hope I did it justice, bestie <3

Word Count: 1,694 words

In all fairness, Okajima mused to himself, it’s not like any part of this year went like planned.

Getting sent to Class E was a punch in the gut, for sure. There was no denying that, not after the laughter from his former classmates or the yelling he had to hear from his mom once he broke the news to her.

He’d been expecting a year of slacking, if he was going to be truly honest. He’d already reached rock bottom, no use in wasting his time and energy trying to get back into the main campus. Not when he was an average student, at best.

Fooling around during lessons, being labelled the class clown, hanging out with his friends, admiring his female classmates, overall having a good time. That was what he believed would await him in the dingy old building of 3-E.

Instead, their teacher was replaced by a giant yellow octopus who moved at Mach 20 and was gonna destroy the world, and it was up to him and his 25 classmates to save it.

Yeah. Big change of plans.

Okajima found himself actually being motivated to work, more and more everyday. He felt...excited to go to school everyday and feel better about himself, and his academic capabilities. He loved contributing to assassinations and proving himself a valuable member of the class.

But there was one part of him that didn’t quite go away for a while.

He sighed. His inexplicable love of female anatomy. That was the...polite way to put it. His classmates would phrase it as “his insufferable pervertedness.” Which was totally fair.

It was really shameful how he’d acted for a long time. His defining trait had been born from a life of being raised by his father, as well as the tiny voice in himself screaming for attention. To get noticed in some way, even if it earned him ire and scorn.

For a while, Okajima wasn’t sure how to interact with others beyond showing his perverted nature. 

And looking back now, that was such a cowardly excuse he used. It had taken him way too long to realize that. 

Okajima hated how he used to be, and his eyes were awakened after the girls in his class explained to him what was wrong. How his actions made them feel insulted and uncomfortable.

He painfully recalled the sharp sensation in his chest that formed to a lump in his throat at hearing their words.

It was never his intention to hurt them.

Okajima vowed to change that part of himself, and it was much easier than he thought it’d be. Looking back, it seemed like most of his problems in general came from overthinking.

The year was almost to an end now, and it was early February. Okajima had made a lot of progress, and he was happy to know how much he’s changed. How he had better, more honest relationships with his classmates now.

Well...there was still a bit of an issue...

Hayami. 

The issue was Hayami.

Of course, not in a literal sense. Okajima could never think of her as that...not with the way she pushed back her bangs while reading, when he’d catch her watching cat videos in class, or the occasional times she’d laugh at his jokes...

He groaned to himself. I really do have it bad, don’t I?

As shocking as it sounded, he’d never had a crush before. Not on a girl, at least. Since there was that one boy in sixth grade who he-

Back to the topic, lusting after girls didn’t count as crushes, he realized belatedly. All of the objects of his admiration were solely for their looks, really. 

But...somehow Hayami was different.

Like yeah, she had a banger body in his opinion, the perfect dancer build. But even before he’d had a change of character, that didn’t quite catch his attention as much as it usually would.

His favorite part of Hayami would always be the core of who she was. How she didn’t take bullshit from anyone. How she worked so hard, more diligent than anyone he’d ever known. How she kept a cool head all the time and was so reliable.

He just loved that she was tough and unapologetic for it. 

The first time she’d responded to one of his stupid comments with a sharp, fierce glare, Okajima felt a thrill run through him. Partly out of fear, of course, but mostly out of...curiosity.

She was so different, so mysterious. He wanted to know more about her. And since they were seatmates for the year, that gave him some opportunities.

He was the first to know of her love for cats. He’d caught her looking wistfully at pictures of them on her phone, and he wisely kept that observation to himself. And a few days later, he gifted her with a cute cat-themed stationary set, claiming that his mom mistakenly bought it. 

The way Hayami’s eyes lit up as her lips curved up in a small smile, a whisper of “thank you” falling off them was extraordinary and made Okajima’s heart leap.

Hayami’s other quirks soon added to his feelings towards her. He loved seeing her fidget with her pigtails absentmindedly. How she doodled pictures of cats on the side of her notebook. The way her feet created a small rhythm against the wooden floor, counting to a beat. How she looked like a complete badass during P.E class, loading her gun and shooting with it effortlessly.

Okajima sighed, his arms falling atop his face as he lay in bed. These new...romantic feelings were overwhelming, to say the least. He felt like voicing his thoughts, just so someone- anyone could give him advice. His dad and brother were absolutely out of the picture, though. So the most trusted people were...

He reached over and grabbed his phone, dialing a familiar number.

“Alright, dude. You said you were going through a crisis.” Mimura leaned back into his beanbag seat, popping a piece of candy into his mouth. “What’s up?”

Okajima leaned down slightly, his forearms resting onto his knees. “Well...it’s not really a crisis. It’s just...something new that I’m not used to.”

Sugaya raised an eyebrow from his spot on his bed, glancing up from his pencil in his hand he’d been observing. “I swear, if this is puberty-related-”

“It’s not! It’s more like, my feelings towards something has changed and I’m not sure why.”

“Shoot.” 

Okajima took a breath then released everything in one go. 

“I have a crush on Hayami and it’s not just for her appearance. I really like her personality. I think she’s a total badass who can step on me and I’d love it. But I also think she’s adorable and I wish I could get closer to her. But I know there’s no way in hell she’d ever like me back, so I’m just accepting that and...yeah.”

His friends’ eyes widened simultaneously, as Sugaya dropped his pencil and Mimura paused, holding his candy mid-air. The look they exchanged was almost comical, so Okajima let out a shaky laugh. “Uh...guys?”

Mimura snapped back to reality. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just...surprised.”

The artist hummed. “Yeah...I mean, don’t get me wrong. I knew you’d fall in love or whatever someday. But your crush is what surprises me...”

“Yeah, why Hayami?” Mimura chimed in.

Okajima frowned slightly. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean...she’s pretty scary,” Sugaya replied.

“And emotionally unavailable,” Mimura added.

“She’s super reserved.”

“Kind of...bitchy on her worst days-”

“Okay!” Okajima raised his voice, irritably. “Are you two done? Did you even hear what I said earlier?”

“No because you said it all really fast in one breath.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, smartass, there’s so much more to her that I really adore. And I don’t think it’s right to...when you like someone, you accept every part of who they are. You shouldn’t pick and choose what you like about them.”

His friends glanced at each other again. “I guess you have a point,” Sugaya admitted.

Okajima sat back with a sigh. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone before,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Like...all I wanna do is see her smile and be happy. I wanna make her laugh. Seeing her every morning is enough to make my day. I know it sounds dramatic but...”

Mimura frowned at him. “Would you ever confess? Maybe there’s a chance that she-”

The photographer cut him off. “There isn’t.”

“Dude, you don’t-”

“Even if she did, I wouldn’t want us to be together,” Okajima replied. He gave his friends a thin smile. 

“She deserves so much better than someone like me.”

Okajima stopped in front of the door, his hand hovering above the knob. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the thundering sound of his own heartbeat.

It was just another typical day. Or, as typical as a day could be given the circumstances of their class.

And yet, voicing his ambivalent feelings last night gave way to a heaviness that settled deep into his chest. It weighed him down and brought a crushing sensation to his throat as well, like it was hard to breath.

“It’s just in my head,” he muttered to himself, finally turning the doorknob.

Stepping into the classroom almost felt like a dream. He stood briefly as if in a daze, holding his bag. A second passed and he moved mechanically towards his seat.

All around him, his classmates were getting ready for the day. Setting up their desks, gathering around to chat, some were eating a quick breakfast. It didn’t matter: everything just blurred around him anyways.

He set his bag down and began pulling out his supplies. The words fell from his lips in an excited greeting, a grin automatically forming on his lips.

“Good morning, Hayami!”

She turned in his direction, her hand resting elegantly under her chin. Her lips quirked up into a small smile as she returned his greeting. Her tone was casual yet genuine and it sent electricity through him.

“Morning, Okajima.”

Yeah. She deserved only the best. 

And it wasn’t him.

[finalcreacher]

From The Earth to The Morgue - Chapter 1

A/N- Basically...this is a Klaus x Artist! Reader...and y’all are both recovering addicts? Well, not so much Klaus. Not yet, at least.

T/W- I don’t think they are any major warnings this chapter? The rest of the series will have some very heavy topics though.

Oh. and gender-neutral reader! :D

Word Count: 1,825

They fiddle the pen back and forth between their fingers, trying to stop themselves from moving it too quickly- they had dropped it too many times to count, and they think their fellow meeting members(all seated in their banged-up, metal folding chairs) were getting tired of them asking for the pen beneath their seat. It was better for everyone than the tapping though, or the clicking. Everyone except them, the noise and the motion of their hands helped them get through the meetings. Drawing was better than all other options though, it's why they had the pen, and the notebook. Doodling the other meeting members helped keep them focused, but not enough to get lost in the meeting and the message- just enough to listen.

Roaming the room with their eyes, they spot a tall, scrawny man, who appeared new to this particular group spot. He had haunted dark brown eyes, and deep circles underneath them from lack of sleep. He fidgets with his hands and pulls against the edges of his coat, he looks around nervously- on edge. They knew the feeling, but what seemed odd, was how he kept looking back to the same empty spot beside him. Staring, and whispering, and they'd be more worried if this wasn't their second year in Narcotics Anonymous.

Many strange and unsettling things occurred, and they were sure they might have had an occasion or two similar to this in the past. Maybe not a talk to the air type- but definitely a “I've taken too much and I think I can see the walls moving”, type. They didn't much enjoy talking about that, though. However, the man seems okay with this, and very comfortable talking. Not freaked and scared. Almost as if there really was someone else there- someone familiar.

They shake it off, noticing his dark fashion again, ripped along the ends, threads pulled loose. It seems far too many years old- but not beyond repair. A little TLC would do it wonders. They chuckle at the thought of helping him. Mending the jacket in their room, having him splayed across the mattress, bare arms and chest taunting them. It made them shiver.

There was an aura around the man that they hadn't felt before. Part of them wondered if there was a ghost next to him- which was silly, the average person couldn't tell those kinds of things. Then again, compared to most, Y/n wasn’t a very average person. Though they’d like to think they are. 

Eccentric was boring, and normal was good.

They glance around the room once more, but finally settle on the man again. Taking in every feature, how his hair parted, and twisted in far too many directions, and how it looked all shaggy. They start with a quick sketch, and then a simple doodle of his eyes- sad and tired. They supposed everyone's eyes looked a little sad and tired, as did their own, but his were worse. There was something far more horrifying behind them.

Then, they begin to draw a soft, nearly invisible figure, standing behind the first full body sketch. They rub their fingers against it, successfully smudging it. It feels ominous.

A feeling of coldness washes over them, making their arm hairs stand on end. They don't pay much mind to it- only making a small note of it in their head. They look back up from the paper, and notice the aura is gone from the man. Even the dead get bored sometimes.

When they look down, the paper creases like it would if touched too harshly. They had been so careful though, unless- they flash a smile to the air behind them, hoping the spirit would get the message. The cold leaves again, and the goosebumps that appeared on their arms, began to settle. They spend the rest of the meeting doodling- perking up again as they see everyone begin to leave.

They leave they're bag seated on the chair, and run up to the man before he can successfully slip out of the room.

"Hey!" He doesn't seem to notice, and continues. "Hey, you're Klaus, right?"

He stops in his tracks, and gives an odd look over his shoulder to them. Spinning on his heels to face the stranger.

"Oh- indeed I am, darling. Who's asking?" He grins.

"I wanted to give you this," Y/n brings up their notebook, flipping to the right page, and gently tears it from the binding. They fold it down into a small square. "Here, I think your companion will appreciate it. It's Y/n, by the way."

He looks wide eyed at them, "My companion?"

They simply smile. "I'll see you next meeting, okay?"

He blinks at them, but they're off to retrieve their bag and already walking out the door before he can say anything.

Klaus was overjoyed as he got back to the apartment he was staying at- the place of some guy he was hooking up with- pulling the slip of paper from his pocket. Smoothing out the creases as he delicately laid it on his lap.

He couldn't help to feel that Y/n drew him beautiful. He was all skin and bones, ribs poking through his skin, face hollowed. But the way his lips pursed on the page, and his eyelids were gracefully shut, lashes playfully falling with them. The hands seemed to softly play with a string on his overcoat. He'd never looked like that, he was always too many meals overdue and shaky.

He runs a finger along the piece, making sure to avoid ruining it. Ben, who had been leaning over Klaus' shoulder, finally murmurs against his ear.

"What?"

Ben scoffs, but gives him a warm smile anyways. "I said, they're pretty good."

"Yeah."

"Are you going to the next meeting?"

"Why would- oh, for Y/n? They are pretty cute," he teases.

Ben shakes his head, frowning. "For yourself. Putting some effort into this would help you, you know."

"God, I'm offended, Ben."

"Also, for Y/n, though,” Ben admits. “I think they saw me."

"No shit," he says, wide-eyed and happy. 

"I think they smiled at me," Ben's smile is brighter than Klaus had seen it for months, maybe even years. The thought sent a painful twinge through his body.

Klaus hadn't been to very many consecutive meetings. He'd been to so many types of meetings, numerous times, but they never quite stuck. He never really tried. He supposes he wasn't even trying now- he was just curious. This stranger saw Ben- or, at the very least, knew Ben was there. He had never seen Ben look so genuinely happy for something in the last eleven years than now. His eyes seemingly glowed at the prospects of being noticed.

He didn't want to get Ben's Hope's up, though. He hadn't been paying attention to the meeting too closely, nor had he seen you or your supposed interactions with his brother. He tried to get Ben to understand that you were probably crazy or just seeing things from the drugs. I mean, this is for addicts, Ben.

Ben seemed mostly bothered- annoyed- by him, than anything else. Insisting that the two of them head back for the next meeting. Klaus whined and groaned, and tried to protest- but he couldn't say no, not to Ben. At least, not for this. He'd gone against Ben's wishes countless times before.

He gets there early that day. Enough so that most people had filtered in, but the last minute ones still had a chance to get in. He'd thought Y/n would be early, but frowned at the sea of unfamiliarity. He takes one of the empty seats in the circle, absentmindedly placing one hand on the seat next to him, the other pulling at his jacket. His fingers hurt as they desperately pinch together, attempting to clutch the material between each other.

Y/n finds themself seated next to Klaus, wordlessly laying a hand over his, feeling him slowly stop the painful fidgeting. He doesn't hold back, as they cup they're hand around his- but he does let out a content and comfortable sigh. He's about to mention it, when they let go, taking out the notebook from yesterday- the meeting supervisor begins talking. 

He finds himself zoning out for most of the meeting. The light sounds of your pen hitting your paper, and the tapping of feet, and droning voices filter through his head. 

Ben doesn’t bother him much, a few words here and there, but mostly Ben found himself hovering over Y/n’s shoulder. Watching them make every gentle line, and rounded dot- making even the harshest of members appear softer, and human. (Not that they weren’t, but some members appeared so sickly or dressed too crazy, that their features began to morph into something else entirely). He admired the work in silent joy, smiling back whenever they would look towards him- though he still wasn’t certain if they could see him or not.

It’s a comment or two from another member, digging up moments from their past, when the meeting nears its end and Klaus’ anxiety hits him with full force. He was most often able to mask his feelings and play it off- but he was here, with them. He couldn’t risk making a scene. He’s all bouncy legs and a shivering body as he tries getting his mind off the meeting- off the years of his childhood he did not want to remember.

Klaus starts pinching his fingers again, till they’re white and he can feel his bones ache. Y/n doesn’t even look over, as they clumsily move their hand to stop him, this time keeping it on top long after he had stopped. They continue drawing with the other, scratching down quick lines- Klaus recognizes the figure as the supervisor. Clean-shaven face, hair dark and combed back professionally. It doesn’t have a background, maybe a line or two- and it doesn’t sport another character like Klaus’ portrait did. And, as he looks closer, it doesn’t radiate the same feeling, either. Whether that was how they felt towards the supervisor, or just today, was unbeknownst to him. What he knew though was that his was soft and kind, and this one felt dark and heavy. 

He tries asking about it, and they merely respond by attempting to turn his attention back to the meeting. Anywhere that wasn’t their paper. Klaus leaves a mental note to ask about it again later, thinking maybe they would react differently if the two of them weren’t in the middle of something. He’s afraid it will haunt him if he doesn’t. All your actions so far seem to do that to him. Puzzle him, make it hard to think about anything else- keep him up as he tries to fall asleep at night. They’re mysterious, and he wants to know more.

He likes that.