#I want to draw them really badly. i will likely do a sketchbook page or something with school starting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pakunodasgun · 2 years ago

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❤️ Small things that matter part 2

“Hey Sanji, uhm I wanna sketch a little but it’s kind of too noisy outside, is it ok if a sit here?” Asked the curly haired to the Straw Hats cook “Yeah, I don’t see a problem with it as long as you don’t interrupt me” Usopp smiled “Ok then! Thanks a lot! Promise I won’t distract you!”

And so the sniper took his stuff and sat on the dinning table to start his sketches, he passed through some pages and noticed his last drawing a sketch of Nami taking care of her tangerines, doing something she cared a lot about ‘Maybe… since Sanji is here, I could do a little sketch of him while he is cooking’ Usopp thought ‘Though I’m not sure how comfortable he is with that…’Usopp hesitated to start his drawing of the cook ‘Well… it’s not like he’ll see it…’ he ended up doing it anyway, he couldn’t resist it, it was the perfect opportunity, and now that he had the idea he couldn’t get it out of his head, so he started sketching.

Sanji was moving around, but Usopp was good at capturing live moments like he did with Nami, he started drawing the kitchen, he took a peek to make sure the cook didn’t notice him drawing him, he was apparently making some drinks, then he took another look and another and then another, but making sure the blonde wouldn’t notice him, but he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was.

The cook came close to him “What are you drawing?” He asked with a cigarette on his mouth “U-U-Uh nothing!!!!” He said as he hide his sketchbook “Nothing? Hmm, but I did hear your pen, I also noticed you looking my way” ‘Shit!’ Was all the sniper could think “Several times” ‘Shit!’ He thought again.

“Hmm, well, maybe you don’t want me to see what you are drawing, is that it?” The tall man asked “I-“ The cook looked at him as he tried to come up with a lie, at the end he couldn’t so he just said the truth “Y-yeah… you are right, I don’t want you t-to uhm see what I’m drawing…” He said shyly “And why may that be?” The cook asked calmly “Well… Im a little ashamed of it… I really didn’t want you to find out…”

The blonde one took a smoke out of his cigarette as he thought about what Usopp said “Could it be… that you where drawing me?” Usopp’s heart skipped a beat, he was able to read him so easily, the sniper took a big breath before answering in shame “Y-yes” was all that he could reply, he looked down, he couldn’t look at him in the eyes, but to Usopp’s surprise the cook smirked “May I see it?” He asked and Usopp’s heart skipped a beat again “Y-you mean you aren’t mad at me?!” The dark eyed asked “Why would I be?” Answered the blonde “W-well I was drawing you without… without your permission…” He answered shyly “Well I don’t mind” Usopp looked up “For real?” The curly haired asked, the blonde hummed in affirmations “I’m actually honored” He said, and Usopp still couldn’t believe it “Really?!” He said with sparks on his eyes “Yeah, I’m dying to see it, so… are you ok with showing it to me?” Sanji asked calmly “Well… If you want to see it so badly, I can’t deny it from you, specially since I didn’t ask for your permission to do it” Sanji laughed “Well show it to me then!” Usopp nodded.

His sketch wasn’t finished but the basics where there, it just needed a little more detail that he wasn’t able to add because Sanji came to him, he flipped the pages until he got to it “Sooo… here it is! It’s not a big deal! It’s not even finished! It’s just a little sketch” Sanji smiled “Well… I think it’s amazing” Usopp’s heart start beating so fast “R-really?” “Sure thing! I really like it, it feels…” He paused, he seemed to be looking for the right words “Delicate, like a lot of care was put into it, I feel like it captures my essence while I cook, even if to you is just a “simple sketch”, I think you did great, I- I like it a lot” Usopp couldn’t help but blush, he isn’t used to compliments AT ALL, and them coming from Sanji…

“OH! Well pst it was nothing! To the great captain Usopp this things are easy! Besides being an awesome captain and sniper, I am a incredible artist!” He said with pride “Well, the “Great Captain Usopp” was just sweating buckets about this drawing just seconds ago” Usopp raised his finger as if he was going to say something, but he took it down and admitted defeat as he sighed “Heh you got me there” He replied, Sanji smirked.

“Well great captain Usopp, I would love it for you to finish it and maybe let me keep it? After all you did draw me without my permission, is only fair I keep it” Usopp couldn’t argue with that “Oh well, yeah, you can keep it- Wait! Oh I ended up distracting you from cooking! Shooo shooo go back to cooking! And that way I can keep drawing you too!” Sanji laughed “Hey don’t think you can boss me around! Though you are right I should get back to making this drinks” He said as he headed back to the kitchen “As you said they are being pretty loud out there, they might get tired and I’ll have some drinks ready for them” Usopp smiled “Is there one for me?” Sanji’s back was turned on Usopp “Of course there is” He replied and Usopp smiled again, not knowing that Sanji was smiling too as he said it.

The Straw Hats cook went back to work and Usopp to sketching now drawing freely without any fears, this drawing wasn’t for him anymore, it was for Sanji, he was going to work hard on it, at the end the drinks where finished and so was the drawing, Sanji handed Usopp one, before going outside and handing them out for the rest of the crew, Usopp thanked him, when Sanji came back Usopp handed him the drawing and the man praised it with joy, Usopp blushed at the compliments “Next time draw a portrait of me, you can keep that one, but only if you capture my charm” Sanji said and Usopp laughed “I sure will” He answered.

Now only Sanji knows where that sketch Usopp did of him is, but I’m sure it’s somewhere special.

Link to part 1

#sanji x usopp #op sanji #one piece sanji #sanji #zoro x sanji #op usopp #one piece usopp #usopp #god usopp #sanuso #usosan #one piece

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nekosd43 · 9 months ago

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so in September I started a huge sketchbook and a discord channel with an extremely small group of friends. I historically have been really bad with sketchbooks, because I never finish them and I don't use them as SKETCH books (my brain tries to make me make every page a finished piece).

The goal was to just draw shit WITHOUT posting it on social media. I was getting too in my head about everything I make needing to be online, and it was making my art suffer I think. Not everything needs to be a finished piece, not everything needs to be shared.

(I did post it to the discord channel so the handful of friends could see it, so I could trick my brain into thinking it wasn't a "worthless" drawing, and they could help encourage me to keep going. it's worked really well, I've gotten way more comfortable drawing without feeling like I MUST show it to the entire world)

I'm actually on pace to probably finish this sketchbook within a month or two, which is INSANE for me I usually take forever before abandoning it eventually. And while not every page has something amazing on it, every page DOES have something on it that I'm happy with to some degree because I just let myself Make Stuff. Some of it is weird, some of it is badly drawn, but all of it is honest and fun and part of me.

A part of me is really proud of all the work I've put into it and wants to do one of those Sketchbook Tour videos... but I worry that goes against the thesis of the whole exercise? Like the point was I DON'T have to share it, it's just for me, it didn't need to be a complete piece for internet consumption. But at the same time I'm like... wow! There are hundreds of drawings in here! I did all those! I did all those for FUN and I had fun and I like them! I'm proud of that and I want to share it!!! So I'm butting up against myself on this one.

I've still got 40~ pages to make up my mind about it I guess.

#nd shitposts

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oh-katsuki · 1 year ago

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“What are these?” Armin pulls out thick frayed paper from between the pages of the worn notebook.

You spot them and chuckle to yourself as he turns the paper to reveal a pencil drawing of a group of people in various poses and places. The hatching on it is clearly visible, done with a quick and light hand. Their faces are content, sometimes sitting in a circle over what looks like quiet conversation, other times laughing raucously, so hard that their eyes have narrowed to slits. Armin has never met these people before, but the drawings give him the impression that he somehow loves them the way the artist did.

“Oh those?” You smile, walking up to him and taking the papers in your hands. You briefly smile down at them like they’re something precious. “Old drawings of mine.”

“I didn’t know you draw,” Armin comments, his eyes widening at the new information.

“Yeah,” you chuckle and hand him back the drawings. “I used to want to be an artist. You know, the kind who makes something meaningful that everyone knows the name of. I’m all washed up now though.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Well, Dad died and I didn’t have the energy to practice,” you smile even though the memory you’re recounting is painful. “I sort of lost the passion to do anything. Work was few and far between and living in the city didn’t help with expenses. Mom needed help, I needed money, my siblings were in school. I had to come home. Work for artists is few and far between even in the biggest of cities, in this town there’s nothing. And after a few years of being back here, I decided that I was fine with a modest life. No fame or meaningful artwork necessary.”

Armin looks at the drawings, his blonde hair shifting slightly on his forehead. When he meets your eyes again, they’re big and rounded with emotion. “That’s a bit sad though, isn’t it?”

“Nah,” you shake your head. “That’s just life.”

You move to sit down on the bed and tangle your fingers together between your legs. Then, you stretch them out and make an exasperated and high pitched sound. Armin moves to sit beside you, not quite close enough to touch.

“But man I would have really loved to draw for a living,” you give him a sideways glance and a smile. “Ya know, my friends used to ask me to draw pictures and sign them for them. They thought that I was gonna be some big shot artist. It was nice to have people have that kind of confidence in me. I did it for ‘em every time. I wonder if they still have them,” you wink, “just in case.”

“Are the people in the drawings those friends?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I met ‘em all in college. Got lucky getting to know people like that.”

Armin looks at the pencil drawings again. They look like they were done so quickly, but he can make out each person’s features individually across them. He gets the impression that you looked at them a lot, that drawing them was less of an exercise than it was an action of habit. There’s a lot of love in them, in these little moments you’d captured in your sketchbook.

“Are you still in touch?”

“With them? Not anymore,” you shrug. “We lost touch about six years ago. All of us went our separate ways and it got hard to see each other. Plus, I sort of became a recluse after Dad died.”

“That’s a shame,” he says, somber and looking at his shoes.

“Nah, it’s not,” you laugh a little. “They’re still some of the most important people in my life. I hope they’re happy and that they still have the drawings, even if they’re crumpled somewhere in a drawer or crammed into a notebook. If they think about us and the time we spent together even a little bit, that’s enough.”

“Don’t you miss them?”

“Oh god, so much,” you laugh. “I think about how badly I want to be with them every day. But they’re living their lives and I’m living mine and that’s alright. We can’t really go back, but even though we’ve lost touch, I’m sure that if I ever ran into any of them again, it would be like that time never passed. We’d be the same, just like we always were.”

“That’s a nice thought.”

“It’s the truth.”

#not sure what this is #i wrote it yesterday and like the message #idk if it even really counts as fanfic but i wanted to write about looking back at old memories and friends #and i feel like armin would be such a comfortable person to divulge that information to #so patient and nonjudgemental and understanding #just the comfort of sharing old memories and hobbies with someone who wasn't there to experience them #but who is willing to listen #ANYWAYYYYYY #tw: death

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monster-noises · 6 months ago

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Man....... So as mentioned I was going through all my old sketchbooks today and gosh!! I sure don't remember even Half the fucking stories I was coming up with at various times that I have heaps of art for!!

I was hoping to find the Origin of Geayu (what I'm renaming the character I redrew yesterday, his orignal name was.... Badly translated japanese and adult me knows that that Ain't the Way) because I know he's really Really old and I know what World and Lore he comes from but I couldn't place what like.... Narrative he was a part of...

And being honest i'm still not 100% sure! He started a lot earlier than I had thought and stuck around a lot later! He did some story hopping! Best I can find is he was part of story that had something to do with heros with gaurdian spirits??

And then he moved ??????? Somewhere and then he got put in my first attempt at a webcomic (which I found all 8 or so pages of as well and may post tomorrow, if people want to see them, because I think they are Cute) but generally was just.... Floating Around

So his origins is sometime before???? Idk 2007?????? Alas I've no definitive awnswers

But I do have some very funny old drawings!

Three of the oldest drawings of him, including his Giant Blade (that eventually got two dragon heads plastered to it) an me and him at a Rave? I guess??? I drew this in like 8th grade.....

A little newer now... Do I remember who Raoule was???? Not at all! But I guess he beefed it or something.....

And this I thought was just an interesting show of my art through the end of highschool... With the exception of whatever I had in me in 2013 we were... On the struggle bus.. and then I guess I drew him in Februrary??? Which I also don't remember.. i like my new version more anyways..

#monster noises #so sorry this post is so long and I'm sure no one's Really that invested but I had fun and I like sharing!!!!

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monstroustea · 1 year ago

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a friend was talking about style influences earlier and it reminded me of this old meme and i wanted to do one!!!!! i'll talk more about each one under the read more, but if you want to do one, here's the link: https://www.deviantart.com/foxorian/art/Influence-Map-Template-174550753

Sailor Moon (particularly the 90s anime) - this is a big one! i remember drawing sailor moon in elementary school and playing pretend/LARPing sailor moon on the playground... the good old 90s anime style with the exaggerated expressions! cute girls! friendship! this general kind of soft, roundness to the style of the 90s anime? it has everything

Honey and Clover - this manga/anime means the world to me. i love the style, the way the mangaka draws emotions, but also the protagonist's story of finding himself? resonant. the manga especially is precious to me bc of the art tho, it has a sketchy quality that i love

Hey Arnold! - another childhood favorite... this one doesn't reflect on my actual style so much, but it's a big influence on the stories and characters i like and create. if i could make everyone watch only one cartoon, it would be hey arnold

this is a triple threat... Persona 5, sketchbooks, @meruz - if you look at more than one page of this blog, you can probably guess i like p5(r)!! a lot!! i love all the characters, even if you mostly see me drawing the protag and akechi bc i'm a shipper at heart lol... i'm always inspired by sketchbooks of other artists! especially proper sketchbooks, where they're messy and worked in and aren't curated to be "good looking" for people to look at. that said, this is a page meruz posted from one of their sketchbooks (go buy them) and i adore meruz's work! i got into their work a while back and their lineart really drew me in, the lineweight and use of spot blacks is delicious. i need to work more on those in my own art and meruz's work always makes me want to do just that

Dolls - and here we take a little detour from the obvious? i sadly don't own this doll :( she's a rune naito fashion doll and i want one so badly. i collect dolls, especially fashion dolls!! i love their designs!! i usually just leave them in their stock outfits bc those are part of the charm to me. i wanna draw my dolls more, but for now they're just a big influence on design and outfits for characters

Amanda Lafrenais - i've been following amanda for so many years i can't keep count anymore!! her style blends "western" and "anime" so well to me and also she just draws lots of pretty women?? also we love queens who draw different body types

Roleplaying (pixelated image from wiki-how) - i've been roleplaying, mostly just with my bestie erin, since i was like 14? i draw stuff inspired by our roleplays soooo much, whether it's from a scene or just "what if"s we threw around. erin is a brilliant writer, has great ideas, and she's basically the GM even tho it's collaborative writing-based rping lmao... im just like "erin come up with a plot and we can shoot ideas back and forth" lol

Drawfee - no idea anymore how i came across drawfee but it's a really fun and funny channel and i'll do some of their challenges on my own sometimes!! (my favorite is the 30s character from memory challenge, i'll have erin give me characters and time me) also they have a ttrpg-style series called Drawtectives that has great characters!!! also every time julia draws a scene im like "ah i want that to be me..."

The Golden Age of Illustration - i'm such a junkie for cartoons and anime and comics and such, i don't really know the classics OOPS... but in the past year or two i've gotten really into what's apparently known as the "golden age of illustration"!! roughly the 1880's to 1920s, there's a lot of fairy/folk tale art from this era and i'm obsessed with all of it. standout mentions that i love to look at the work of are kay nielsen and edmund dulac

honorable mentions are just... every manga i've ever loved. every artist i've ever obsessed over the art of. and HONORABLE honorable mention to drawingwiffwaffles who sadly hasn't updated in a few months... she got me back into traditional media tho and is a general delight to watch work

#influence map #meme #not my art

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swampgallows · 2 years ago

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the usual

im mad because im trying to read books again, specifically trying to pick up toxic parents and body keeps the score again so i can try and Help Myself basically now that im back in the limbo of having no therapist. but trying to concentrate on shit and hunker down and learn things when i know it’s good for me i swear it’s like a flashbang goes off in my brain and everything just whites out. ‘concentrate’ isnt even the right word for it because it’s like i cant even begin to get started. it’s like staring into the sun to even begin to think about stuff i guess, it’s all so overwhelming. i want so much about my life to change, so much, so badly, so drastically, but so much of it just doesnt feel feasible that it’s like ive implanted this mental block in my brain to even dream of change because it’s too caustic.

that ‘autistic masking’ article about the boy who would build and paint his models at night then clean everything up so he left no trace of himself... i think about how much ive whittled myself down and have tried to take up very little space. how i dont play my music on speakers, dont draw anymore, basically only took up writing more because it was something that was between me and a notepad document and didnt take time the same way as drawing, and wasnt possible to immediately consume like a drawing (people grabbing my sketchbook and just flippantly turning the pages, skimming past drawings that took me hours in favor of minute long sketches, glancing at drawings that were supposed to express my deep feelings and having immediate reactions of disgust or ridicule)

i make kandi put it on a chain then put it away. it cant really go anywhere anyway, not like i’ll be attending raves again any time soon. i have no reason or place to wear my ‘fun clothes’ anymore. i wore what i thought was a cute outfit at christmas and even my immediate family had some shit to say about it. i wore a pair of stockings that ive had (and worn) since i was 14 years old. i wore them to my very first raver day at disneyland. and theyre surprised when i wear them now? like they havent seen them before????

even here i was about to say “i tire of myself” and close this window or hit post and stop here, but literally my blog is one of the only places i can actually express myself somewhere and send it out to a place where it’s seen. yeah i can write things down in my journal and ‘express myself’ there so that “personal stuff” isnt online but... i already do that. set up my models and paint them late at night, then put them away before anyone sees in the morning. djing only in my headphones at 4am, pulling them off periodically to make sure they arent too loud even through the headphones. lighting candles but opening the window so there isn’t “too much” scent.

if im autistic or have adhd or some combination of the two, then my whole family is too and all undiagnosed (save for maybe my dad. i think he’s the closest one of us to being ‘normal’). i took that blorbo quiz and it asked “How would they describe themselves?”

how would -i- describe myself? i dont know. people tell me im smart and funny. i think it’s because they cant think of anything nicer to say.

Part of me is still chasing the approval of all the world’s English teachers. Getting compliments on my writing makes me feel like my life matters. And I still struggle to ask for love and affection when a real, flesh and blood human is looking me in the face. It’s difficult for me to believe someone might care for me as an equal, and like things about me other than my intellect. I frequently have to remind myself I’m no longer a child, and don’t need approval of the “adults” anymore.

as long as im stuck living with my parents im going to perpetually be the child. it’s also really fucking frustrating knowing how ill prepared i am to live as an adult. even when i had a job i had to quit it so i didnt kill myself. i dont think just getting a job is the answer, though i know it’s a mandatory piece of the puzzle. ugh god

#blathering

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snuff-loves-men · 3 years ago

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Artist’s Hands

SPN Fic

Dean x Male! Reader

Summary: Reader is an artist, draws Dean as practice, gay friendship

“Warnings”: Reader is a big dude, Sam is a little shit, Dean is lowkey a simp?, reader is also a massive simp

Word Count: 866

A pencil scribbled vigorously against the rough paper, each stroke of the lead was frantic and rushed. Gradually, each line grew darker and more methodical. (Y/n) loomed over his small book, scribbling away. He’d been trying to get this damn mouth right for the past 45 minutes, his frustration growing evident.

A knock sounded at his door, startling the large man. “Uh, come in.” He readjusted on his bed, focusing once more on his drawing. The door squealed, a lumbering Sam behind it. “Hey (N/n), you’ve been in here all day. You alright?” The gentle giant queeried, his eyes were soft as he looked at his seated friend. “Yeah, jus’ haven’t been able to get this drawing right. S’ frustrating.” He grumbled, sketchbook tilted toward himself.

Was he, hiding it? “What’re you even drawing? Plant, Animal, Person, what?” Sam leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of the graphite scribbles. “Just, a person.” (Y/n) leaned back, prompting the younger Winchester to live up to the family name. Mischief. Sam snatched the sketchbook from his friend’s hands, pushing him away and peaking at the art. It was Dean?

“Give that back, Winchester!” The shorter tackled the thief, ripping the book from his hands. “Why are you drawing-“ (Y/n) covered his mouth. A red hue covered his cheeks and ears, along side an enraged expression. Artist etiquette, don’t take their book. “What’s it matter?” He released the mischievous little brother, leaving him with a confused look. “I needed a reference.”

The bunker was quiet, it was late. Everyone was off doing their own things, and (Y/n) was still stuck on his drawing. It was almost unsalvageable from the smudging and eraser marks. Yet he didn’t want to give up. With a grunt, he tossed the flimsy book. “Fuck!” He shouted, laying back against his mattress. “What’re we yelling at?” A familiar voice spoke, the eldest Winchester this time. “Stupid art.” (Y/n) groaned. Dean chuckled at his friend’s disdain. “It’s really eatin’ at you that bad? Lemme see.” He leaned down to grab the book, immediately triggering the other’s artist instincts.

“Put that down!” He lunged at the older man, but he was too late. Dean had moved out of the way and already saw the drawing. “S’ this, me?” His voice was quiet and confused. The pages flipped, as gentle fingers turned them. Eyes scanned each, slightly smudged, piece. The care and effort put into each line was evident, (Y/n) was passionate. He almost always had the tattered book, jotting down notes or sketches of creatures they would encounter. He was like an encyclopedia. The knowledge held within just one of his books was impressive. “I’ve never really seen your actual drawings.” Dean confessed, looking up to see (Y/n)’s worried eyes. “These look great, man.” The older smiled, his expression held nothing but admiration for his companion. “Well, then can I ask for a favor?”

“Explain to me again why I have to just sit here while you stare at my face?” Dean griped. He hadn’t expected to be put to such a boring job, all for a stupid favor. “It’s not that hard to understand, just sit still so I can draw you.” A soft yellow lamp illuminated (Y/n)’s model, casting well defined shadows. The artist had to get better at shading somehow, and this was it.

“Why me?” Dean grumbled to himself. He so badly wanted to fidget, to pick at his hands or bite the dead skin off his lips. Not moving was surprisingly difficult. All that could be heard between the two was quiet breathing and scribbling. Each gentle scratch of the pencil leaving a soft line, bringing the drawing together. Finally, an end product he was happy with. (Y/n) had totally restarted his piece, now having a solid reference and all.

For a while, he couldn’t help but stare at his model. Each and every little detail he could see about Dean was tossed into the drawing. Each freckle or scar, each stray piece of hair. He wanted it to be perfect. The whole of the oldest Winchester had to be caught in this piece. At least, that’s what he told himself. “We almost done there, (N/n)?” The artist was pulled from his trance, wide eyes looked at Dean’s. “Oh, yeah almost, sorry.”

He scratched down some final touches, reluctantly turning the book to face his model. “Holy shit.” The older whispered. The book was placed in his hands, gently gripping the book. He was delicate, like it would shatter if he put too much pressure. It was him. It felt like all of Dean’s soul was captured, just from a quick piece. Even if it was messy, it held his smallest features. The shading was soft and planned, well blended too. The oldest Winchester was no artist, but he could appreciate talent.

“Dude, your skill is insane. It’s like a shitty picture.” Dean tried to compliment, earning him a laugh. “Thanks? I think?” (Y/n) smiled, his excitement radiated, glad that he captured Dean’s beauty. “I had to do a good job, do you justice.” He reached for the book, having it reluctantly handed back. “Justice?” The model asked.

“You’re too pretty to make a bad drawing of, Winchester.”

#dean x male reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #SPN #supernatural fic #supernatural #spn fic #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean

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versadies · 4 years ago

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Hello~ can I request Diluc, Kaeya, and Albedo reaction to their S/O being chubby? C:

penpal: omg YESYESYES!!! as a chubby person myself, i’ve always loved chubby!reader fics - hope you enjoy this hc!

warning/s: super short 🥲

note: this hc only has fem!readers so sorry if you expected this to be a gn!reader hc 😔

-> diluc will show his love through actions so expect lots of kisses and hugs from him! he just loves holding you in his arms and give you all the affection he has.

-> if you confront diluc about your insecurities, he’ll try to let you know that you are good enough, you are beautiful in every size and shape, and that you are an amazing person.

-> he makes sure that you feel loved because you deserve it. just seeing you sad makes his heart broke.

-> if someone ever tries to bully you or insult you, hold his beer, he’ll take care of that asshole for you because he cannot just stand by while someone is insulting the light of his life.

-> when going out, diluc will glare down at anyone who dares to comment badly on you without you noticing at all. he gives you that heart eyes whenever he’s with you 🥰

-> if you’re someone who’s very confident, diluc’s your hypeman!!! he will be like “see her? that’s my s/o right there.” whenever you two are in parties. he’ll literally look at you with heart eyes while you two walk together with your head up high. he would be lying if he said your confidence isn’t endearing.

-> diluc enjoys skinship (idk if i used that term right). he likes to kiss you everywhere as long as you’re comfortable with it. whenever you two sleep (no not seggs you nasties) together

-> this man loves you so much that he’d literally do anything to make you smile and be happy :,))

-> i really see albedo as someone who doesn’t understand how you’re so insecure of yourself when you look like a goddess.

-> if you feel insecure about your body, he’ll immediately show his love for you and prove to you that you are beautiful every. single. day. he just wants to make you see yourself the way he sees you, a beautiful person who is the light of his darkness.

-> as for people who tries to insult you and your weight, he tends to glare at them, daring them to see what happens if they try to hurt his s/o’s feelings. usually his glare does the work since everyone in mondstadt knows about him. rip to the ones who are new to mondstadt tho

-> if you’re the confident type, man’s your number one fan. he’s very proud of you and admires how you don’t let anyone put you down.

-> he likes drawing you. you may not know it but almost all the pages of his sketchbooks are just you and he can admire it all day.

-> albedo might be awkward in your relationship but he’s trying his best! he’d want nothing but to be by your side and make sure you won’t ever think of yourself so badly 🥰

-> hands down, this man is your cheerleader and biggest support.

-> kaeya will never stop complimenting you— even if you have blood and dirt all around you after completing commissions, he’ll always find a way to compliment you.

-> if anyone and i mean if anyone tries to insult you about your weight, he’ll be angry at them and make sure their life in mondstadt is over. no one is allowed to make others feel insecure with their own body especially if its towards you!

-> if you’re a confident person, he’s by your side hyping you up. he’s not the type to be like “YOU CAN DO THIS S/O!!! THAT’S MY SPOUSE RIGHT THERE!” but more like “you did amazing, sweetie” lol

-> he likes to cuddle with you because you’re so frickin warm and adorable that he just wants to keep you in his arms forever.

-> he also likes to lay down on your lap too! as long as you’re okay with it, he’ll find a way to lay his head down in your lap while you’re minding your business.

-> you might not see it but kaeya really does love you the way you are, because to him— you’re his love, his hope, his sadness, but most importantly, you’re his s/o <3

#not me remembering wandavision from kaeya’s hc 😫#genshin impact #diluc x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #diluc x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc #albedo x reader #genshin headcanons #kaeya imagines #albedo #kaeya x reader #diluc headcanons #genshin impact scenario

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well-its-not-human-anymore · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him. But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #writing blog #writing requests #askbox #ask response #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo

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oliviayamaoka · 3 years ago

Text

The Roseville Murders (Chapter 2)

Hi, just wanted to say I adjusted the plot slightly and will go into more detail with the story next chapter! This was a bit experimental and I wanted to write the growing relationship / rivalry between Y/N and Danny. I also wanted to write Y/N as a girlboss and to be just as witty as Danny!

Anyways, please comment any ideas or suggestions you may wanna see in future chapters! I have this planned out but would love any ideas or stuff I can add into the story! Tysm for reading!

It rained softly outside as you took a seat at your workplace. The desk was a bit cluttered with your art, notes, junk, and your papers regarding your current investigation.

One of the drawings on your desk was a sketch of Ghostface’s mask, attached to it was a few notes regarding the origin of the mask. Did Ghostface care for the history of it, anyways? You already theorized he was a narcissist who took pride in his work. Perhaps, he admired Edward Munch and his infamous “The Scream” artwork? Or maybe he based his persona off of it? You weren’t too sure but you did research the distribution and the company that made the masks. It wasn’t a particular popular company but it only distributed to the USA, Canada, and Brazil.

Ghostface didn’t seem too caring when it came to where he stabbed victims. As long as there was a lot of blood and something only he could perceive as art. And maybe you too. You felt excited, you already had a three year timeline. Maybe, you could get ahold of other states and ask if there’s been similar killings. Maybe even Brazil and Canada? You had to pinpoint a location and see if you could find just one name, any name.

Three years. Three countries. A part of you doubted he was Brazilian. Maybe Canadian? You weren’t so sure, you were pretty sure he was American. Y/N would probably have to go to the library tommorow to do research and use the slowly growing internet. Your research was suddenly halted when you knocked your sketchbook over.

Our slid a page. You kneeled down to pick it up, holding it as you examined the dark sketch. On the paper was a sketch of claws? No, they also looked like tentacles. Ever since the incident, you had dreams of these tentacle claws grabbing you and pulling you away from life as you know it. It must’ve been a sign of trauma or maybe it represented what happened through the nightmares? You slid it back into your sketchbook, deciding not to dwell on it. It would only make your room feel more depressing.

Beside your sketchbook was your leather journal. Y/N wrote everything in there, for mental health reasons. You included the incident and what Jonathan did for you. Your previous therapist said journaling your thoughts helped the healing process. It worked but journaling about how you killed your abuser was hell.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when your phone rang. It was a chunky, black mobile phone you got about a week ago? Y/N reached for it and answered.

“Hello?” You answered, using your other hand to organize your desk.

“Hello?” A voice answered, it was a male by the sound of it.

“Hi, who’s this?” Y/N asked, paying no mind to the phone call as she started to put some of her stuff away. Art supplies.

“Who’s this?” He replied.

“Y/N L/N, am I who you’re trying to reach?” You asked, sitting back down.

“Ah, you’re no fun, detective.” He chuckled as you stopped, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. Who was this?

“My apologies but, this is my personal phone. Can I ask who gave you this number?” You questioned him.

“Why does it matter, gorgeous? I know it’s you now.” He responded.

“Please don’t call me that. And yes, I am indeed a detective but I’d feel more comfortable discussing anything with you on my work phone.” Y/N said sternly.

“Oh, yeah… Detective L/N, huh? Think you’re some sort of hotshot because you’re new? Where did you come from? Washington? Gonna take more than the feds to catch me.” He said to you.

You listened intently and stopped for a moment. Catch him? Must be a stupid prank. Although, not a funny one since he had your personal phone number. An eyebrow raised as you looked at your notes on Ghostface.

“You still haven’t told me your name. Let’s not be rude, yeah?” You responded, being a little more cocky since you were off-duty.

“Awe, don’t tell me you forgot my name. I’ll give you a hint… I’ve been quite famous lately. In fact, I think you’ve taken quite the interest in me, Y/N.” The man teased. It was 100% Danny.

“I asked for a name, not an alias.” You said.

“Maybe after dinner, hotshot.” Danny said to you as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m not in Roseville to play games. Either verify you are who you claim to be or quit wasting my time.” Y/N spoke with a stern tone.

“My last victim had three stab wounds to the throat. It was going to be two but their scream wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. And they had a tattoo on their upper thigh. Bella Smith.” He said as you froze for a moment.

It was true. The latest murder victim was a middle-aged woman named Bella Smith who worked at a convenience store. She had multiple stab wounds but it was pretty much impossible to see she had three wounds on her throat just looking at photos of the crime scene.

“Okay and how did you get my number? I imagine the infamous Ghostface doesn’t have access to these types of things. How do I know this isn’t some sort of elaborate prank orchestrated by my coworkers?” You questioned.

“Honey, I am Roseville. Also sounds like you have experience with these kinds of things. You ever get humiliated like that?” Danny asked, grinning widely.

“No, it’s just a very logical conclusion. And why would you be talking to me anyways?” You asked him.

While you spoke to him, you quickly wrote down what he said and what he sounded like. You quickly speculated what his age may be, maybe 25?

“I keep tabs on the cops who are investigating my work and to be honest? They’re all stupid, it’s pathetic. Although, I noticed something about you. You come from one of the big cities, don’t you? You’re actually smart compared to those other pigs.” He said.

“Those pigs you speak of have tried their best in pursuing you. They have families too.” You responded.

“Really, huh? You’ve only been here three weeks? I think you should just trust me on this one because those other officers really don’t know what they’re doing. If you actually find out who I am, are they gonna give you credit? The newbie? A woman?” He asked.

“I don’t understand why gender is an issue. And why would they try to steal credit?” You questioned.

“They’re stuck in this shit hole city and I bet they could just really use a promotion right now. They want so badly to be the hero that arrests me… but first, they’ll let the freshly graduated detective do the work. It’s so easy to overshadow women in this world.” Danny said.

“Well, I don’t care. As long as you’re put behind bars.” Y/N responded.

“The bars at this station? I must say, your desk is quite cute. A bit plain but I like your style… interesting files too.” He mused.

“Huh?” You responded, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Your lil’ office at the station, I like it. This place has always been easy to break into. You noticed it too, didn’t you? Their security sucks and their morgue is just too damn small.” Danny said as you frantically looked around, shoving your shoes on.

“I’m going to call them right now and tell them you’re there. That was a stupid move on your part.” You said, practically yelling.

“So young and naive. I’ll be long gone.” He responded, chuckling as you hung up.

“Fuck, shit!” You said, quickly dialling the number to the police station.

You practically flung your door open, sprinting down the hallway and out through the front doors of the apartment complex after three flights of stairs. Your heart rate increased as you continued running down the sidewalk, feeling more frantic when there was no answer.

“Answer…!” You yelled, calling the emergency number.

“911, how can I help you?” A staticky voice answered as you continued running.

“I’m Detective Y/N L/N! Please inform the police station that there’s an intruder! He might be armed and dangerous! Do not touch anything since there may be forensic evidence!” You instructed.

“Oh—yes, right away, ma’am!” The dispatcher answered as you hung up, continuing to focus on your running towards the station.

Back at your apartment complex, there stood Danny with his own mobile phone. It couldn’t be traced back to him since it was stolen and he didn’t leave any DNA on it. If anything, it had the previous owners. Bella Smith. Your apartment complex had fire escape stairs outside your window. Easy enough, he thought. His outfit was black and had some stuff hanging off it. Strings? Ribbons? Danny was quite quick and extremely quiet when it came to climbing the set of stairs.

He reached your window, pulling it open gently and hoisting himself through, landing gently whilst kneeled down. For precaution, he had his knife gripped in one hand. This was purely for investigation and to see what you truly had on him. His head tilted curiously as he noticed your desk. Your art and notebook. His gloved hand reached out to your sketch of him.

Danny was truly impressed at how detailed and good it was. He read through your sticky notes and theories. Other than the fact he was blown away, he knew you were a threat since you successfully guessed his age range and height. Wait, his height? You did a careful examination of the footage he was in, looking at objects around him and his boots to correctly guess a height.

“What the fuck…?” Danny muttered as he looked at your notes.

The Scream by Edward Munch and a costume company? He skimmed over your notes and the psychological profile you built on him. He felt somewhat panicked since you were indeed no joke. His gaze averted towards your leather notebook. Eagerly, he grabbed it and opened it. Most of it was your thoughts and causes of your stress and anxiety. He stopped flipping through when he saw a darker page. It was dark because of the writing and how crumpled it seemed.

December 23rd, 1992

I was walking down an alleyway two weeks ago. It was cold so I had a jacket over my uniform. I suppose that’s why the man didn’t know I was an officer.

At first, I thought that he was going to try and rob me. It took me a while to realize that my money and belongings wasn’t what he was after. I suppose it would be appropriate to say that I was in shock for a moment. He never finished what he started. Despite being in shock, I was able to feel everything and the adrenaline only helped my rage.

Why? Why did this have to happen to me? After getting him off, I pulled my gun out and he stopped. I still remember the look on his face after I shot him. He was scared and pathetic, as he was in life. I don’t regret killing him. I never will. I just feel utterly violated. Never once have I been touched like that so violently. Is this what this fucked up world has come to? What if I didn’t have my gun and training?

He definitely did this to other women… he deserved to die. And I would do it all over again to him and to other men just like him. Of course, I had to call the police. They were going to charge me with manslaughter but they said that they would push this all under the rug, just as long as I never tell anybody. Did I contribute to corruption in the police force? This getting out would ruin everything. I don’t know but I do know that this was my gift.

Freedom was my gift for killing that man. It felt oddly exhilarating. I hope nobody remembers him, I hope his family know what kind of monster he was. Anyways, I’m being reassigned somewhere. They said they’ll give me my first investigation. In a smaller city.

Danny’s fingers trailed over the page. He felt angry and sad for you. That this happened to you. But, something arose in him when he kept re-reading that paragraph. You… enjoyed it? Behind the mask, he had a soft expression on his face. He imagined your beautiful face full of blood with you and your gun. He smiled gently as he kept the notebook.

He did indeed feel bad for you but he wasn’t satisfied with his limited knowledge of you. Danny decided to use this notebook of incriminating evidence to hold some leverage over you. Not only that but he figured he’d get to know you better if they had something interesting to talk to you about. Danny couldn’t help but grin when he thought about your journal entry and the sketches you made of him. So smart yet so naive.

Danny quickly took a look around your apartment to see all points of entry. He took a peak into your bedroom, it was neat and tidy. He seemed somewhat paranoid so quickly went back to your living room window, making his swift little escape. Not without taking some of your notes on him and your sketchbook.

About two hours later, you rubbed your eyes in frustration as another officer came to talk to you. There was a forensic team still investigating your little office space. Apparently, there was nobody here and your office seemed untouched. For about thirty minutes, you inspected any points of entry and tried to look for out of place shoe marks since it rained outside.

“Detective, are you certain it was the killer who called? We get prank calls a lot.” He said as you nodded.

“Yes, I’m certain. It was him, he knows I’m going to catch him soon.” You said as he nodded a bit.

“Okay, well, we’ll take it from here. Come early tommorow.” He said as you sighed.

“I will but please, don’t miss anything. I’m starting to think he was lying. It was him though.” You said as you turned, walking down the hallway towards the exit.

It seemed to be evening at this point and the rain stopped pouring. It was slightly humid but the city looked oddly beautiful when it was wet? You couldn’t stop thinking about your phone call with Ghostface earlier. Y/N already had some tech professionals try to track the number he called from and all of the information regarding the phone company. You’d have to wait two days at the latest for the results to come back.

As you walked through light puddles, you felt more and more tired. All the running and frantically searching for him was enough to just make you exhausted. It was all last-minute too. Y/N stopped dead in her tracks when she felt her mobile phone ring. You pulled it out of your pocket and answered it.

“Hello?” You asked, tired.

“Hey, gorgeous. Just wanted to apologize for my little deception trick earlier.” He responded as your eyes widened.

“Ghostface…” You responded, shocked that he had the courage to call you again.

“God, hearing that from you…” He said with a slight husk as you took a deep breath quietly to calm yourself.

“You know I’m close, don’t you?” You questioned him as he chuckled.

“Of course, I do… only these hands of mine can do wonders for you.” Danny said to you as you scoffed.

“You’re disgusting.” You say to him.

“Don’t lose your temper now, detective. There’s… things we should discuss.” He cooed.

“Things? Seriously?” You asked him, already tired of his bullshit.

“Yeah! Like, this lil’ notebook of yours! Really deep stuff… Victor Houston, was it? The serial rapist? Must’ve felt real good to put him down, didn’t it? Did it feel as good as you said it did in this thing?” He asked as you froze.

You probably let out a small whimper of shock as your hands trembled. Your heart pumped hard and fast. It was all you can hear as you felt your face heat out of pure embarrassment and shock. He… read your journal? This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good.

“W-What…?” You asked as he cackled.

“God, you’re so hot when you sound scared. Don’t be offended though, babe. You still sound real sexy in your cop tone.” He said as he continued.

“Yeah, I read all about the guy you killed. And how it was all covered up to accommodate you. Are you a star student or something? It’s hard covering up murders… or has it always been easy for you?” He asked.

“I-I, um… how did you get that…?” You asked him, trembling.

“You see, Y/N… we’re the same. You and I are too smart for Roseville. It’s just that I got the upper hand this time. While you rushed to the police station, I took a quick trip into your apartment.” He said as you let out a light gasp.

“Yeah, that’s right! I know where you live, I know where you’re from, and your number. I know who you truly are, Detective Y/N L/N.” Danny said mockingly.

“And what are you going to do with it?” You asked him.

“Always so straight to the point. I might give that annoying little journalist Jed Olsen. You’re trying to work with him, aren’t you? You mentioned in one of these notes… you also think he’s handsome.” He said as you covered your eyes.

You fought tears.

“Why? Why would you do this?” You ask.

“I should be asking you that. I’m a bit jealous you find someone like Olsen… attractive. He’s so boring, so normal, so… ugh, I hate talking about him. Still though, nice to know I have another fan besides him.” He said to you.

“Where are you going with this?!” You snapped as he chuckled darkly.

“I won’t tell anybody. Just as long as you halt your investigation for a while. I still want to have fun in Roseville here and well… get to know you.” He said.

“Go to hell.” You muttered.

“How original… so what’ll it be? I kinda need to know now since I’m also on a bit of a time crunch.” Danny asked you.

“W-What the fuck do you want me to do? Sit back and watch as you kill more innocent people?! I won’t let you.” You said with a venomous tone.

“What are you gonna do? Stop me behind bars?” He asked mockingly.

“Fuck you.” You said.

“I’m sure we will. But first, I just want you to sit back and not do anything stupid. We’ll see each other eventually. I’ll call you from another phone soon.” He said, hanging up.

You held your phone in disbelief and quickly made sure you had your gun. How the hell could you have been so dumb?! It was genius, leading you away from you apartment and finding such leverage against you purely out of luck. Your breath trembled as you walked back to your apartment, having your gun ready in your pocket as you did so.

#dbd x reader #ghostface x reader #the ghostface #ghostface dbd #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen #danny johnson #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight

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dearkusuo · 4 years ago

Text

Unchanging

Synopsis: He was content with the simplicities life had to offer, while you sought out the world.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x artist!reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

Word Count: 3.6k

You first heard of him back in your second year of high school. There was nothing about Saiki Kusuo that stood out to you, but your good friend, Yumehara Chiyo, thought otherwise.

“Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince? He’s so dreamy that I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He’s so cool and mysterious,” your friend blabbered. If by cool and mysterious, she meant cold and aloof, then you completely agreed.

Even the popular pretty girl, Teruhashi Kokomi, seemed enraptured by him, despite Saiki’s unwillingness to shower her any attention like every guy in school. She never told you about her crush on him, but it was obvious through her body language alone that she was smitten by the pink-haired boy.

You didn’t understand their fleeting infatuation for someone they hardly knew - never experienced the feeling of falling hard for someone from the depths of your soul that they were the only person you could think about. And you were perfectly content with that. You had bigger dreams to achieve than a small high school romance that wasn’t guaranteed to last long anyway.

The Okinawa school trip was an outing that all the second years in PK Academy were looking forward to, you included. Although you had a feeling that your friends, Chiyo and Kokomi, had different intentions for tagging along.

They must have been so elated that the three of you ended up in the same group with the boy they liked.

You carried on disregarding Kokomi and Chiyo’s painfully obvious antics to spend time with their beloved prince charming until later that evening when you decided to take a walk outside the hotel alone. You convinced yourself that a late-night stroll would be an enjoyable pastime, but really, you wanted to get away from the love-struck fantasies of your two friends who were oblivious of the fact that they were both pursuing the same boy.

You don’t know how long you’ve been wandering around, but by the time you returned, the hotel had disappeared from your sight. Two recognizable figures stood by a large hole torn on the ground. A battered ship had risen from the gap where the building used to be.

Toritsuka Reita from Class 2-2 stood next to your pink-haired group member while Saiki had a hand directed at the ship, indicating that he was the one causing it to float midair. Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the sight before you.

Saiki turned his head in your direction as if he knew you were there all along. He kept his usual blank composure, although you could recognize the wary look in his eyes as he stared at you. Toritsuka panicked upon the realization that you were there to witness the whole scene.

You didn’t know how you should've reacted when the two boys told you of their psychic powers.

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

‘I know,’ Saiki’s voice echoed into your mind.

The rest of the trip went by smoothly after that incident. Kokomi subsequently spoke out about the crush she had on Saiki, and Chiyo announced that she had fallen for Kaidou Shun.

You shook your head in wonder at the orange-haired girl. It was astonishing how quickly she was able to abandon her feelings for one boy and move on to someone else so quickly.

You realized that love was brief and ever-changing like the ticking seconds on a clock. There was no point in wasting time on such a fickle emotion when the only thing you would devote yourself to were your ambitions for the future.

Nevertheless, a subconscious bond had been formed between you and Saiki after you learned his secret.

You shared a glance with the psychic from afar as Kokomi relayed to you the dream she had of the boy she liked.

He was kinder and a lot less indifferent than you originally thought. Saiki wouldn’t admit it, but you would notice the subtle acts he performed to help out a troubled stranger and the small deeds he initiated to prevent harm from coming across the people around him.

You finally acknowledged Saiki as a friend after he deliberately shared his umbrella with you during a particularly rainy day.

‘Good grief. I was feeling generous today, so this is nothing. Just make sure to come to school prepared next time,’ he had told you after you first rejected his help in worry of troubling him.

You found out much later that he could have stopped the rain with his abilities.

The empty café was tranquil save for the scratching of your pencil as you scribbled on your sketchbook. Saiki sat across from you, paying you no attention just as you did to him. His usual stoic expression was abandoned as he blissfully devoured his coffee jelly.

“I have a dream. After high school, I’ll travel around the world for a bit. I’ll join a bunch of art competitions and win a bunch of awards. Then eventually, I’ll go to an art school in New York so I can major in Illustration. And maybe I might even make a best-seller manga one day,” you mused.

‘Isn’t it a little too early for us to think about the future?’ Saiki retorted.

“Maybe. But I’ve had this dream for as long as I can remember.”

Art class was the subject you looked forward to the most in school. Not only because you excelled in many art mediums, but also because you took pride in the techniques you honed over the years of endless practice.

For the day’s lesson, you were to pair up with one person in the class and draw each other’s portraits. You casually looked around the room in search of anyone available.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kokomi rushing up to Saiki with an excited smile as she called out, “Saiki, do you want to-” a majority of the boys in class crowded around her before she could say her piece. Saiki walked up to you instead, asking if you wanted to pair up with him.

You glanced briefly at Kokomi, feeling a tad bit guilty for stealing her choice of partner while she was being surrounded by her group of fans hoping that she would choose one of them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reject the pink-haired boy’s request.

Taking a seat from across each other, you adjusted your easel so you could get a better view of Saiki’s face. Despite the red tint dusting your cheeks from the intimacy of his peering gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. You perceived for the first time that Saiki was actually quite good looking.

You looked down at your page so you could sketch his appearance: the antennae on his head, his green glasses, soft pink hair, slender neck, smooth lips, chiselled face, sharp eyes. You looked up to take a quick peek at him again.

The constant blinking on his impassive face made your eyes widen in amusement and you frantically placed a hand over your mouth to prevent a snort from escaping.

‘Why are you laughing?’

“Because you’re blinking so much that it looks ridiculous,” you explained with a chuckle.

‘I have to keep on blinking so my x-ray vision resets. I’m trying to get a look at your face.’

You let out another coy giggle despite the heat rushing to the tips of your ears. He looked down at his paper to continue his piece with a warm smile barely present on his face.

You concentrated on your own illustration, marking down his affectionate expression before Saiki could return to his blank face, and showing it off as soon as you finished.

‘Not bad. Now take a look at mine.’

He flipped his paper over, exhibiting an intricate and beautiful portrait. The focused expression he depicted on your face while you drew him looked so alluring. You almost didn’t recognize it as your own, even though it was practically a mirror image.

"This looks way too realistic for someone who's trying not to stand out."

'It should be fine if it's you.'

You didn't understand what he meant, but his words caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

‘I need your help,’ A familiar voice spoke in your mind.

You jumped in surprise at the unexpected appearance of the pink-haired boy you had grown fond of. Your sketchbook flew out of your lap, falling right at your feet.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked with a huff.

‘In case you forgot, I can hear your thoughts. I know that sometimes you like to come here to the school rooftop during lunch.’

“Oh,” you uttered. “Well, since you came all this way to see me, what can I do for you?” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

'I need you to help me reject Teruhashi.'

You pursed your lips in uncertainty.

"Kokomi is my friend, and as her friend, you can't expect me to hurt her feelings."

'As my friend, you can't expect me to lead her on when I don't ever intend on returning her feelings. She'll get hurt either way. All I'm asking is for you to help me avoid her so she'll get over me.’

You knew he was right, but you were still unsure of meddling in a situation you weren't a part of, especially when it involved the feelings of your close friend. You looked out the window in contemplation.

“Why are you asking me? Mikoto would be a better choice.”

‘I trust you more, so it has to be you.’

You ignored the churning in your stomach as you casually threw your hands up, giving in to his request.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

‘Thank you.’

Saiki bent down on one knee, reaching out to grab your fallen sketchbook.

“I can pick that up myself, you know, or you if you wanted to help me that badly, you could’ve done that levitation thing you always do.”

‘I know.’

He held the book out, watching you through his glasses while he knelt by your feet. A saying Chiyo once told you a long time ago reverberated at the back of your mind: “Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince?”

You gripped the sketchbook in his hand. Saiki’s gaze burned on your orbs as your image reflected off his green lenses. Neither one of you let go, even when your fingertips brushed against one another.

“What colour are your eyes?” You wondered.

‘Violet.’

“Major in Economics at Sayftee University and major in Literature at both Komman University and Ahvraj University,” you read out Saiki's school survey. “These are all surprisingly in character for you, but do you really have no dreams beyond living an ordinary life?”

‘I’m too busy thinking of ways to stop the volcano eruption to worry about my future.’

“You have a point there. Any luck with that?” you inquired.

Saiki shook his head.

“I guess that means we’ll be second years again.”

You didn’t keep track of how long time had been looping, and you found that you didn’t really care since you were already accustomed to the familiarity of your seemingly endless high school life. You were happy, even if it meant that the dreams you’ve been chasing for so long were slipping farther away from your grasp with every day that passed.

‘No, it’s about time I put an end to this.’

Saiki’s determined expression was embedded in your mind.

Your screams of disbelief were muffled by the pillow you held against your face.

You had vowed to yourself since you were young that you wouldn’t grow attached to anyone. After all these years, you had to go back on your word just when you were about to leave.

Now was not the time. Not here. Not with him.

Kokomi and Chiyo took it upon themselves to pay you a visit after you skipped school for five days without notice. The dark circles under your eyes and your sunken face visibly worried them.

“I’m in love with Saiki,” you murmured, gazing sullenly at your blue-haired friend. “I’m sorry.”

Kokomi’s face fell, but she showed no signs of surprise.

“I already knew that. It was obvious with the way you always look at him,” she lamented. Kokomi cupped your balled fists in her hands and looked at you wistfully. “He rejected me a few days ago, so you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I think you two would look good together.”

You felt tears threatening to spill over your eyes. Whether it was from relief that Kokomi accepted you so easily or pain from your unfortunate situation, you didn’t know.

“I’m leaving Japan after we graduate,” you disclosed.

A dejected silence fell upon you three until Chiyo spoke up, “For how long?”

“An indefinite amount of time.”

“Are you ever coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

Their glum faces only worsened your mood.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

You tensed at the accusing tone directed at you. Saiki’s piercing gaze was pointed at your shrinking figure.

No matter how much time had passed since the loss of his abilities, you doubted that you would ever get used to the sound of his voice resonating out loud, or the enchanting shade of his eyes, even if they looked dangerously menacing at the moment.

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was just busy studying for exams and doing other stuff,” you explained weakly.

Saiki’s deadpan expression indicated that he didn’t believe your lie.

After a few minutes of squirming underneath his scrutinizing gaze, you gave in and told him your worries, “I’m leaving the country soon. I think we should stop talking to each other so that it won’t be so hard for us to say goodbye.”

You pushed past him. You didn’t know where your feet planned on dragging you, but you figured anywhere was fine so long as you could get away from him.

The familiar warmth of Saiki’s hand wrapped around your own, stopping you from taking another step away. You didn’t dare turn around as you felt your heart thumping wildly.

“I won’t ever ask this of anyone else, so I’m begging you not to push me away,” he pleaded. He placed your hand over his chest, giving away the heavy pulsing of his heartbeat.

You could never say no to him.

Memories of the last few years ran through your mind as you smiled at the nostalgia. You took one final glance at your high school building before turning your back on it, striding towards the exit.

You stopped at the sight of a familiar figure standing under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Saiki must have known that you were staying much later after the graduation ceremony, all thanks to his restored powers.

‘Good grief. Were you really planning on leaving without saying goodbye?’ His voice resounded in your head.

You didn’t respond as you watched the wind blow through his hair, the sun illuminating the affectionate smile on his face, the violet obscured by his green glasses, and the petals dancing around the two of you as they fell to the ground. The timing was right. The mood was right. Everything was right.

He rubbed the back of your hand while you reached out to intertwine your fingers with his. The warmth that radiated off his skin felt like home.

He knew, and you knew that he did. After all, you could never hide your secrets from a psychic, no matter how hard you tried. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him how you felt.

“Goodbye,” you pulled away from Saiki.

What was the point of confessing your feelings to someone you would never see again?

Paris, France was one of your destinations out of many. Most people romanticized the capital as the City of Love, but the only reason you were even there in the first place was to visit the Louvre, the world’s largest art museum.

Influenced by the art and the romantic ambience, you sketched out the scenery around you, deliberating how you could embody the city on paper. If you were to draw a picture of love, what would you envision?

Maybe, it would look like pink locks tousled by the spring breeze, or the reflection of your eyes searching for violet orbs through tinted green glass. It might have been the lingering warmth on the fingertips of someone who trusted you enough to share their deepest secret, or the gentle smile that was reserved only for you during the most intimate of moments.

Your love was constant and unchanging. You realized that now. No matter how much time had passed or how many countries you visited, you always found yourself thinking about home.

Ever since you were a young student in junior high, you had hated the thought of giving up on your dreams to pursue a flighty, insignificant relationship. Six years ago, you threw away your chance at love to focus on your aspirations. There was no point in thinking back on what might have been. You shouldn’t have.

You made a name for yourself through the many art competitions you joined, winning a few awards here and there. A while back, you finished your Bachelor's Degree in Illustration at a famous art school in New York. Things were coming together quite nicely.

Your high school days almost seemed like a lifetime ago. The memories that used to be the center of your universe, the laughter you shared with your friends, and a not so ordinary boy with psychic powers were at the back of your mind. Everyday life without the only person you've ever loved became the norm for you.

You recently got a job offer from a famous publishing company in Japan after you posted a short comic that blew up in popularity. The editor in chief sealed the deal with you after you sent him a promising draft for a manga you had planned out.

It had been years since you’ve been to the country, but your return and the nostalgic surroundings brought back old recollections that made you feel like you were a teenager again.

The chief took it upon himself to give you a tour around the company, showing you the work environment and the employees. He guided you through the different floor levels, offices and workrooms, and acquainted you with the higher-ups. But he had yet to introduce the editor you would be working with.

"There he is."

The chief led you towards the figure of a man who had his back turned to you. The pink tuft of hair on his head and the silly-looking antennae shaped into joysticks poking out of his scalp were noticeably familiar. But you couldn’t believe it.

He turned around, green-tinted eyes boring into yours with the same neutral expression you used to see every day. Even when you had anticipated who it was, you couldn’t help the breathless gasp that escaped your lips.

"This is Saiki Kusuo. He will be the editor in charge of overseeing your work,” the chief introduced to you.

You took the hand Saiki held out for you, shaking it courteously. His blank expression didn’t fade, but his eyes softened under your gaze. The warmth on his grip was just as comforting as you remembered, like the welcoming embrace for a loved one returning home.

Neither one of you let go.

"Well, since it's already after work hours, you guys should grab dinner and get to know each other. You'll be working closely for a while, after all," the chief suggested before leaving you and Saiki alone.

A hushed silence washed over both of you as the world disappeared before your sight. The image of a cherry blossom tree on a sunny spring day was evoked in your mind.

He sat next to you in a secluded booth of the café you used to frequent, away from prying eyes.

"What happened to majoring in Economics and Literature?" you asked.

Your body was angled in his direction while you engaged him in conversation. Despite the many years apart, you and Saiki had fallen back to the easygoing relationship you once shared.

'I finally had time to think about my future, and I realized that this is what I wanted.'

“You wanted to be a manga editor like your dad?” you prompted.

‘Not quite.’

Saiki was composed as usual as he turned to face you.

'I have a dream. After you accomplished your goals, we would find each other again and spend the rest of our lives together. And maybe we might even make a best-seller manga one day,’ he mused.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. The words you couldn’t bring yourself to say on the day of your graduation poured out unthinkingly from your throat.

“I love you.”

He placed a hand on the back of your neck, closing the distance between you.

‘I know.’

Your lips crashed into his, moulding perfectly as they moved against one another. You gripped his shoulders, pulling him in as he snuck an arm around your waist. Your eyelids fluttered shut, relishing in the sweet sensation of his taste.

You only pulled away minutes after to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours, the tip of your noses barely skimming each other. The look of adoration in his eyes revealed that he felt the same way.

No matter how long he waited, your love for each other was unchanging.

#saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki #saiki k #saiki kusuo #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki no psi nan

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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 4 years ago

Text

ALRIGHT. Just gonna post this immediately so my brain stops trying to make it into another multi-chapter fic alskdmfoiawef

This is based off of this post, and the idea that Mk drew Pigsy’s Noodle Shop logo. I don’t know just take it ksldfmaewf *shoves this into your arms*

~~~~~~~~

Mk had been drawing for as long as he could remember.

He wasn’t all that good at it, and he had a long way to go if he ever wanted to actually draw professionally, which he still wasn’t sure if he really did want or not, (he wasn’t sure if he could,) but it was something he enjoyed doing in his spare time at least. It was relaxing and he’d usually spend his weekends with his cheap earbuds in, listening to the radio, pencil scratching across the page as he sketched out the pictures in his head. They never seemed to come out quite the way he intended, but he still liked it in spite of his skill not being up to par with what he imagined. He’d get there eventually.

When Pigsy let him move upstairs above the noodle shop-in-progress, he’d grabbed his worn nearly-full sketchbook and whatever he had in his backpack, and accepted the offer. He also said he’d let him work in the shop once it was finished too, and Mk felt a lot better about moving in knowing he would be able to pay him back in the near-future.

It was a nice space, his space, he’d never really had his own space like this before. Pigsy wouldn’t even come inside without knocking and being invited, even if was practically empty at the start. The moment Mk put his bag down Pigsy had given him the only key and told him to come downstairs and get him if he needed anything before promptly leaving.

Mk tried locking the room, just to see if he could, (he could,) and rested his forehead against the door, not really sure how he felt about it. In the end he just left it unlocked most of the time because he knew Pigsy wouldn’t come inside without his permission.

The blank walls started to get to him a mere two days inside the room though, so he rooted through his sketchbook to find a couple drawings he didn’t cringe so badly at and plastered them up on the wall with some tape, which he found in a drawer of the dusty desk that was tucked into a corner of the room--the only piece of furniture inside the room at the moment. There were only about five in total but having them up made him feel a lot better.

The only one that wasn’t related to Monkey King was something silly he’d sketched after Pigsy had first offered him the room. Pigsy didn’t smile much, but he had then, and Mk had flipped open his sketchbook after he left, the bowl of noodles he’d given him steaming and smelling so good, and drew his giddy, happy, grateful feeling out. Maybe no one else saw Pigsy the way he did, and maybe he’d never actually smiled that big and it was just Mk, but the picture embodied how he felt in that moment, and he liked it.

He stepped back, smiling at it from where it was on the wall next to the really nice one he’d done of Monkey King. It was more of a doodle than anything, but it was his favourite because of the person and memory attached to it.

The pictures blended together into the background rather quickly, but it was the sentiment behind it, like stamping his mark on the room and really making it his. He hadn’t been allowed anything like posters before, and he’d always wanted some. His space, he reminded himself. It was something small, but it made him smile.

The shop wasn’t quite finished, so he didn’t have much to occupy him until it actually opened and he'd be able to work. In the meantime, he tried to do whatever he could to help out; painting walls with Pigsy and handing him tools when he needed them, racing to the store to get the right sized screws and new paint brushes one time after he broke one throwing it at a spider--something he made sure to add to the list he had at the back of his sketchbook of things he needed to pay Pigsy back for; a list that was growing rather quickly.

They went shopping for clothes when Pigsy realized Mk really only had two outfits to switch between when the other was in the wash after he’d gotten paint on both shirts while working on the walls.

Clothes, new shoes, then a blanket and pillow to call his own instead of the ones he’d been borrowing from him, and finally an actual bed instead of the air mattress (also borrowed from Pigsy,) which Mk had been using up to that point. He tried insisting he didn’t need one but Pigsy had just told him that the air mattress wouldn’t last forever and he needed something more concrete and comfortable since he was staying.

Mk had to bite back a smile despite his festering guilt over all the money Pigsy was spending on him. He was staying, and Pigsy never even looked like he’d considered anything else.

He got distracted by the warm giddy feeling long enough for Pigsy to buy the bed without him noticing, and then it was too late to talk him out of it, so he just added it to the list.

Getting the mattress upstairs was the most challenging part of the whole ordeal. Doors were not made to fit mattresses through. The bedframe was easy since they just took it apart and carried the separate pieces upstairs so they could put it back together and avoid the whole ordeal of trying to figure out how to fit it through the small door frame. Eventually, with a lot of shoving and swearing on Pigsy’s part, they got the mattress inside.

“Glad that’s over,” Pigsy said, stretching his back, which gave several audible cracks. “Where do you wanna set this thing up?”

“Oh, um…” Mk looked around the room. It wasn’t exactly something he’d thought about, since he hadn’t known they were actually getting a bed when they set out. The air mattress was still in its place tucked into a corner by the window. He liked that spot. He turned back to Pigsy and pointed at the corner. “Over there’s fine.”

“Alright,” Pigsy nodded. “You want help putting it together?”

Mk bit his lip. On one hand, he’d already taken up a lot of Pigsy’s time with the shopping already, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to become too much of a nuisance, but on the other hand he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it by himself. His experience with putting things together didn’t extend far past handing screwdrivers to the person actually doing the work.

“I could probably figure it out,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and offering Pigsy a smile.

Pigsy looked at him with a suspicious squint.

“But I mean--if you wanted to help I wouldn’t stop you or anything,” he stammered, face heating up slightly under his scrutiny.

Pigsy watched him for a moment more, making him squirm a little, then sighed and started towards the parts without saying anything.

Mk scrambled after him, feeling a little relieved.

It didn’t take very long to put the thing together. Mk chatted through most of the work, words just flowing out to fill the silence. Pigsy would respond in grunts with the occasional comment, or request for Mk to grab a tool from downstairs, but didn’t seem to be annoyed by his talking, so he let himself keep rambling.

Once the frame was pieced together, they moved the air mattress and shoved it into the corner properly before wrestling the real mattress onto it. Mk resisted the urge to crawl on it and test it’s bounciness once it was in place, settling for bouncing on his heels instead.

Pigsy headed over to the plastic shopping bags that he’d dropped in the corner once they’d gotten back from the store, two of which held Mk’s clothes and fished around in the third one before pulling out a package of material.

Mk looked at it curiously. “What’s that?”

“Bedsheets,” Pigsy told him, walking over and dropping it onto the mattress.

“Oh,” Mk said, feeling kinda silly. He’d forgotten that was something he needed, and he hadn’t even noticed them being purchased. He really needed to work on paying more attention to things. He mentally made a note to add bedsheets to the list of things he needed to pay Pigsy back for.

He finally gave into the urge to jump onto the bed, hopping up and letting himself bounce twice before dropping down to sit on the surface, crossing his legs, and set to work opening the packaging.

His bed.

He bit back a smile.

“Did you draw these?” Pigsy’s voice pulled his focus away from his task.

Mk looked up, startled. “Huh?”

Pigsy was standing a little ways away, looking at the wall, his arms folded across his chest, head tilted as he studied--

Ohhhh the drawings. He forgot about those.

He felt abruptly embarrassed and a little flustered. “Um, yeah. I just uh… thought the wall could use some decoration.” He bit his lip, feeling a little nervous. Had he messed up putting them up? He hadn’t even thought about whether or not Pigsy was okay with tape damage on the walls. He swallowed down the brief feeling of panic to force a smile. “I can take them down if you want.”

“It’s your room,” Pigsy said, without looking at him, eyes still set on his drawings. “Not up to me.”

Mk chewed on the inside of his cheek and fiddled with the sheet in his hands.

“Is this me?”

“Um,” Mk gulped. “Yes?”

Pigsy was quiet for a moment.

Mk shifted, trying not to feel like he was being scrutinized rather than his art; it felt like the same thing somehow. It was probably weird that he’d drawn him. He hadn’t really been thinking Pigsy would see it when he’d put it up, but now he figured he should have expected that.

“You can have it if you want,” he finally offered, if only to break the silence.

Pigsy hummed absentmindedly, then glanced at him. “Yeah?”

Mk nodded furiously and scrambled off the bed to hop over and peel it off the wall. He could always try and draw another one, even if it might not feel the same. It would probably be less weird for Pigsy if he let him take it and pretend it had never been there.

He was careful peeling the tape off the paper, only accidentally ripping off a little before he handed Pigsy the drawing.

Pigsy unfolded his arms to take it from him, a lot more carefully than Mk was expecting, holding it like it was something more important than just a drawing on a piece of paper torn from a sketchbook.

His next question made Mk’s world grind to a halt.

“Can I use this for my shop logo?”

Mk blinked. “...what?”

Pigsy looked at him. “I won’t if you don’t want me to, but I’d pay you for it.”

Mk gaped at him.

He… wanted to use his art. For his noodle-shop; the thing he’d been working towards for years, and he wanted to use Mk’s art?

“Don’t--don’t you want to get a professional to make it?” he finally managed to stammer out. His shoulders were steadily hiking up to his ears and he rubbed his arm, face heating up a little as he muttered under his breath. “I’m not very good.”

Pigsy gave him a look. “You’re not half as bad as you think you are, kid.”

Mk was sure his face probably looked red.

“You want time to think it over?” Pigsy asked, still holding Mk’s art like it was worth more than it was.

“No, it’s--yeah you can use it if you really want,” he rocked back on his heels and waved his hands a little. “And you don’t have to pay me, or anything--it’s not even really that good. I can make you a better one if you want?”

“No,” Pigsy said simply, looking back down at the paper in his hands. “This one’s good.”

Mk gaped at him for another second, floundering and going even more red. “...o-okay.”

Pigsy gave a little heh, as he looked at the drawing, and he was smiling. He looked up at Mk making him freeze. He wasn’t sure anyone had looked at him or his art that long, and he couldn’t help but feel that he was worth the time, but… Pigsy seemed to think he was.

“Thanks,” Pigsy nodded once, before turning and heading to the door. “Make sure you actually put that stuff away.” Probably referring to the clothing they’d just purchased.

“Yeah!” Mk called after him. “I will!”

Pigsy vanished through the door and around the corner, and he could hear the creaking of the floorboards as he made his way downstairs.

Mk couldn’t help but stare after him, even after he was out of sight. That was… an unexpected turn of events.

He glanced around the room, which felt a little emptier without the drawing or Pigsy in it, but the bed helped fill that space a little.

He hurried over to the shopping bags that held his clothes and picked them up before heading over to the dresser, rooting through them as he went. Hopefully it would distract him enough so he could forget about the drawing.

____________

He’d be lying if he said he forgot about it.

In fact, it was pretty much the only thing he could think about for the next couple of weeks. It was hard not to think about really. Someone wanted to use his art for actual real purposes--Pigsy wanted to use his art for an actual real thing. The logo for his shop no less! He’d been talking about a logo a lot.

Well...as much as Pigsy talked about anything that is--as in he mentioned it twice, and that was twice more than he usually mentioned things, so Mk knew it was important. Which was why it was just straight up crazy that Pigsy would even think about using his art for his logo. It was important! Someone important should make it for him!

Pigsy didn’t mention it again, and Mk wasn’t really sure how to, or even if he should ask. He kinda missed having the drawing on his wall, and he tried to draw another one a few times but it never really turned out quite as right as the first one felt, mainly because he was a little preoccupied by nervousness, so he gave up after a while.

They kept working on the inside of the shop, painting and repairing and gradually making it look how Pigsy intended it to. It really started to come together when Pigsy brought in the kitchenware and the dishes into what had become the kitchen. Some actual renovators had come by to take care of that; the kitchen was one thing Pigsy wanted done absolutely perfectly, so professionals had been hired.

Unlike the logo, Mk couldn’t help but note. His drawing seemed silly compared to what the shop really looked like. Warm and welcoming, and like a real noodle house. It deserved a logo to match. There was just no way Pigsy was serious about using his art.

Yeah. He’d probably just said that to make Mk feel better about how dumb the doodle was.

Then again... it wasn’t like Pigsy to say something he didn’t mean. But it didn’t make any sense otherwise! How could he possibly want to use Mk’s art? And a silly little doodle at that, one he’d drawn with too many lines and not enough steady strokes, and it probably didn’t even really look like Pigsy, and for sure he’d want something actually nice, and not what Mk made--

“Hey, Mk,” Pigsy’s voice cut off his thoughts. “Hand me that screwdriver will ya?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Mk exclaimed, diving for said screwdriver. “I got it!” He nearly dropped it but managed to get a good hold on it after a minimal amount of flailing and passed it to him.

Pigsy didn’t laugh or scold him, or even acknowledge his fumble at all, simply accepting the screwdriver and setting to work tightening the bolt under the table.

Mk hummed under his breath, tapping his fingers on his pant leg as he knelt nearby, waiting where he was in case Pigsy needed him to get anything else.

A buzzing sound caught both their attention and Pigsy sat up, cursing when he bumped his head on the underside of the table. He rubbed the top of his head as he fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it before squinting down at what Mk assumed was a text.

Pigsy grumbled something under his breath as he typed out a response, looking more like he was jabbing at the screen than tapping it. Mk couldn’t tell if it was the normal grumble jabbing or the annoyed grumble jabbing.

“Who was that?” Mk asked, as Pigsy stood up, brushing some dried paint particles off his clothes.

“Think you could grab something from the store for me?” Pigsy asked instead of answering, still looking at his phone.

Mk blinked before jumping to his feet, grinning. “Yup! What do you need?”

“Two more bolts like last time, I think we lost some between the cracks somewhere, and I ain’t wanting to look for ‘em.”

“Will do, boss!” Mk saluted before racing out of the almost-renovated-noodle-shop.

He hopped into the little car-cart thing that would soon be the delivery cart once the place got up and running, and headed to the store for the few items. It wasn’t very far, technically speaking he could have walked, but he could use the driving practice.

“Back again, I see,” the cashier greeted with amusement, when he entered.

“Yup!” Mk said brightly. “Just need some more of those bolts we got yesterday.”

“You lose some?” she chuckled, reaching under the counter to root through the containers beneath it, one of which held the items Mk was there for.

He shrugged with a smile. “Pigsy seems to think so.”

“Well, they’re pretty easy to misplace, being so small,” she admitted. “How many do you need?”

“Just two!” Mk told her, rocking back on his heels. He glanced around the small store that had grown increasingly familiar since he’d started working on the noodle shop with Pigsy. He liked the smell of sawdust that seemed to cling to the air near the front. The back smelled more like paint fumes which he didn’t like as much.

“Here we go!” The clinking sound of a plastic container full of bolts being set on the counter drew his attention back to the cashier. She gave him a smile. “Take your pick.”

He plucked two especially shiny ones out of the container she offered him, and dropped the coins on the counter to pay for them. “Thank you!”

“Speedy visit today,” she laughed. “You’re welcome. Drive safe!”

“I will!” he called back as he zipped out of the hardware store, waving on his way out. He made sure to carefully slip both bolts into his jacket pocket and zip it up so he wouldn’t lose them, then hopped into the to-be noodle cart and headed back to the shop.

As far as he could tell, there wasn’t much else that needed to be done before the shop was ready to open. He felt a little nervous at the prospect of actually having a job, but it was Pigsy, so he figured he’d be okay. He just had to make sure to work hard and be good at it, and it’d be fine.

He checked to make sure the bolts were still in his pocket four times on the way back; better safe than sorry.

He parked out back and rushed inside, fishing the bolts out of his pocket and waving them in the air as he passed through the door. “I got them!” He skidded into the kitchen, nearly slipping across the newly tiled floor and into a wall, but managed to catch the edge of the counter to stop himself with yelp.

He looked around when no response came.

“Pigsy?”

He peeked around the corner but couldn’t see him anywhere. That was weird.

“Pigsy?” he tried again. He spun around looking for any sign of life in the empty shop. Where had he gone?

Some loud voices from outfront drew his attention, and he noticed the front door was wide open.

Huh, he must’ve gone outside.

He started forward, only slipping a little on the tiles on his way out of the kitchen area.

He spotted him almost immediately when he reached the door. Pigsy was standing on the sidewalk with his arms crossed over his chest, looking up above the shop at something.

“Pigsy!” Mk exclaimed, waving and stumbling forward. “Hey! What are you doing out here?”

“A little higher,” Pigsy called to somebody Mk couldn’t see before looking at him and waving him forward.

Mk hurried over to him to get out of the way of whatever was happening above him. He craned his neck up trying to see, and Pigsy grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward to keep him moving, making him stumble a bit.

“Careful, kid. Outta the way.”

“What--?” he started to ask, as he had him stand next to him, but then stopped short when his eyes landed on what had Pigsy’s attention.

The shop’s sign flickered to life, lighting up and highlighting what was unmistakably Mk’s doodle. It was pink and glowy and blown up to a bigger size, impossible to miss from the street, even with all the other bright signs around--or maybe it was just like that for him. Every line he’d accidentally made, but left because it hadn’t needed to be perfect in was there, and it even had his signature scratched into the top left corner.

Pigsy had actually used his art for the logo.

“Here good?” the man installing it asked, glancing down at them.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” Pigsy nodded from where he stood next to Mk. “Thanks.”

Mk could only gape up at the sign as the man climbed down and spoke to Pigsy; something about calling him if there were any complications or problems with the sign. It was kinda hard to focus on what they were saying when he was busy staring up at his art plastered on a sign.

A disbelieving, almost hysterical laugh bubbled up in chest but caught in his throat so it came out as more of a strangled sound.

Pigsy had actually wanted to use it, he wasn’t just saying it. The proof was right there in front of him; his art was being used as a logo for a real actual shop. Pigsy’s shop. He’d actually thought it was good enough to put up and make it part of his shop.

“Looks good,” Pigsy said suddenly, startling him.

Mk turned his head and gaped soundlessly at him, second guessing whether or not he was seeing things right, or just hallucinating the whole thing.

“I’m thinking five hundred is reasonable,” Pigsy continued without looking away from the sign, either oblivious to Mk’s shock, or choosing to ignore it. “But we can discuss it inside if you want more for it.”

That got his brain working again, at least a little and he spluttered. “Wait, what?”

Pigsy looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “It’s your art, kid. I’m not just gonna take it and use it to promote my business without paying you.”

Words--what--that--

“But… you…” Mk flapped his hands, words jumbling up and coming out in halting splutters and choking him a little. He finally got something out. “You want to pay me? For real?”

Pigsy was looking at him like he was the crazy one, and not the other way around. “Yeah,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was not.

“It--you don’t--that’s not--You don’t have to pay me--” He’d actually used it.

“Look, kid,” Pigsy interrupted, looking at him flatly. “Five hundred’s the minimum I’m giving you. Most logo’s cost twice that much on a good day. Usually closer to a thousand or so.”

Mk felt a little lightheaded. “...thousand?”

For a doodle?

“--but since I know you’re not comfortable with that amount I’m keeping it low for now. We can add more later if you want.”

“I--no, that’s--that’s fine,” Mk stammered out. “You don’t have to pay me for it at all. Just…” he scrambled for a reason and grabbed for the first thing he thought of. “--consider it me paying you back for the clothes.”

Pigsy looked at him skeptically.

“And the bed,” Mk added.

“You don’t need to pay me back for those things, kid.”

“I want to,” he blurted, then snapped his mouth shut, feeling a lot like he’d just betrayed himself. Too late now though, so he just did his best to hold Pigsy’s gaze and appear as sincere as he felt. “Please?”

Pigsy looked at him for a moment. “Alright,” he finally said, turning away and starting forward towards the shop. “You can consider us square then. The logo makes up for anything you feel like you owe me.”

“But--” Mk scrambled after him, trying not to glance up at the sign too many times as he headed inside. “--that’s not enough to cover everything!”

“I think it is.”

“You don’t even think I should pay you back at all,” Mk protested.

“Alright, fine,” Pigsy relented, turning to him, and Mk flailed his arms to stop in time so he didn’t smash into him, and his shoulders hiked up to his ears as Pigsy fixed him in a squint. “Tell you what: you go look at that list of yours and add everything up, and then come back down here and I’ll tell you if the logo covers it or not.”

It seemed like a trap, but he could tell it was the best he was going to get from Pigsy, so he nodded, already starting towards the stairs, but stopped once he realized exactly what Pigsy had said. He spun around. “Wait, how did you know about my list?”

“Saw you writing in it the other day. You’re not really subtle, kid.”

“Oh,” Mk said, heat rising in his cheeks. “That… makes sense.”

“Hurry up, I ain’t got all day.”

“Right!” He turned around and raced across the shop and up the stairs to his room. Despite everything he couldn’t help but feel a little giddy, a small bubble of happiness expanding in his chest and threatening to burst at any moment, leaving him breathless.

Pigsy used his art. For real. He actually liked it and thought it was good enough to use for something real.

He didn’t even realize he was grinning until he’d grabbed his sketchbook and was racing back downstairs.

#KNOX WRITES (me)#LEGO Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid #Mk #Pigsy #My brain does not know how to write a one-shot LOL #lksadmfaoiewf #What is logic and an actual theme in writing? I don't know #slkdmfawoef #Li'll scatterbrained lately but it's the first something I've written in a while so I'ma chose to file this under a success lol ksmfawef #ANYWAY HOPE Y'ALL ENJOYED #time for me to go hide in a snowbank farewell slkdfew

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