#had this sitting in my work doodles for a few weeks realized i drew the robes on the wrong sided and said 'eh.. leave it' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sondepoch · 4 years

Text

HC: They see MC’s sketchbook!

Art. It’s a private thing. Showing someone your work is akin to showing them a piece of your soul, an insight into who you are and everything that lies within. So when the Obey Me! boys get a glimpse of your sketchbook, they find themselves wanting for more—and all in different ways.

Word Count: 6.0k

*Mild NSFW themes for Asmo & Diavolo

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

At the beginning of the year, there is 0 trust between the two of you

Not only has he actively tried to kill you, but he’s already so suspicious of the pacts you’re making with his brothers that he can’t help but be wary every time you cross paths

So when he realizes that you’re always absentmindedly scribbling in a notepad every time you interact, he’s more than a little perturbed by it

100% thinks you’re secretly taking notes on his and his brothers’ behavior to use it against them

So, obviously, when he next sees you using it in his presence, he wastes no time in snatching the notebook from your hands

“Oh hey, Lucif—what are you doing?!”

“Nothing you should be concerned with, human.”

“That’s my sketchbook you’re holding!”

“Sketchbook?”

Instantly flips it open and sure enough, inside there’s nothing but doodles and sketches

luci.is.confuzzled.exe

He’s still convinced that there must be something incriminating in the book, so he continues flipping through it. But the more he sees, the more he realizes how wrong he is

It’s only when he flips to the section with his family that he begins to feel guilty

In the beginning, you just draw basic poses. Mammon, glancing at you over his shoulder. Asmo, posing for a camera. Beel, about to bite down on a hamburger.

But the further he goes, the more elaborate the sketches get, and as he flips through the pages, he can feel the amount of work that has gone into each piece

And then he gets to the page where you drew him

Keep it lowkey, but he thinks his heart stopped for a second

He stares at the picture and wonders if that’s what you see every time he shifts into his demon form, because for the first time since his fall, he can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks. Everything looks so right in your art style, from the diamond on his forehead to the way his wings flutter out of his back.

It’s perfection

“I’m confiscating this,” He says quickly, not looking you in the eye.

He then escapes the room faster than you’ve ever seen, and never speaks of the incident again to you

But roughly a week later, you find a small red book on your pillow, and you know that it's a sketchbook from him, to replace the one he took

And even later—after the two of you grow close—you find your old sketchbook stored in his most secure drawer, locked away with a key he keeps hidden. And you know that he’s spent hours looking through the book on rough nights, through the doodles of him and his brothers and everything else you’ve ever drawn

And though he’s too proud to admit it, you know he loves your art

Mammon

He found it when he was going through your stuff, absentmindedly checking to see if you had any valuables on you

And the moment he flipped open to see your little notebook of doodles, his mind went B I N G O

He loves your art the second he sees it, spending a whole hour just sitting on your bedroom floor, flipping through the pages

Adores everything about your art style

And when he starts to see the little doodles you do of his brothers, he’s even more enraptured

You draw all the things he’s imagined but never seen: a sketch of Lucifer dressed in a onesie, snuggling a giant teddy bear. Beel, using a sleeping Belphie as a food tray for a pile of snacks as large as the sixth-born himself. Asmo with cat ears, being chased by Solomon, who appears to be a wolf.

And yet, there are no pictures of Mammon

Man is hurt by the fact that you’ve drawn all his brothers but not him. He’s your first man, after all. You should have been the first person he drew!

Gets a bit upset about it and throws your sketchbook back into the drawer he found it in, stomping back to his room with childlike indignation

Is just a bit petty about it afterward

“Hey, Mammon, can you walk me to school? Class starts in half an hour.”

“Huh? Oh, so now ya want me to do it, huh? Well, why don’t you ask Asmo instead?”

“Okay? I will???”

Soon everyone in the house has realized that Mammon’s being a bit off, and while it was nice at first to have peace and quiet from the resident troublemaker, you guys grow concerned pretty quick

And eventually, you go to his room to talk things out

Let’s just say that when you found out he’d been going through your stuff, you were not pleased. But seeing that he wasn’t going to be the mature one, you sucked it up and whacked the demon on the back of his head, telling him to “wait a second” while you went to “get something”

Cue the retrieval of your second sketchbook

And when Mammon sees it, he’s not sure what he feels more of: guilt or happiness

Every single page in this second notebook is of him. Only a few are colored, but Mammon finds himself enraptured by even the casual doodles in the corners, where he’s doing little things like eating a banana or flashing the viewer a few Grimm

Man is touched. He’s never had anyone do this for him, and certainly not out of their own volition. So suffice it to say that when he tackled you for a hug that night, he didn’t let you go for a long time

And maybe some other stuff happened too. Who knows? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Leviathan

TSL

The second Levi sees you sketching in your artbook (after an incoherent stumble of words which you assume are synonymous with praise), the only phrase coming out of this man’s mouth is TSL

Begins begging you to draw fanart of the Shadow Lord, asking you to sketch him in different outfits, draw him in different poses, put him in various backgrounds, etc.

Basically wants you to bring his imagination to life

“Oh! Oh! Can you draw him baking a cake now? Wouldn’t that be so cool?!”

Absolutely does the wwooooooOOOOOAAAHAHHHHHHH sound effect every single time you show him your work, even if you’ve only made minor changes from the last time you showed him

He takes you on a spending spree, pulling up Akuzon and offering to pay for whatever supplies you want if you’ll just make him a super fancy poster

And so you start

It actually gets to be a pretty good way to grow closer: every day, after school, you head up to Levi’s room to work on the poster he asked you to make him. In exchange, he lets you borrow his manga and you guys watch anime together

Eventually, boi gets the idea of throwing Ruri-chan into the poster, and the second he thinks it he won’t shut up about it

“Oh, come on! You can do it—look, just put her in this little corner right here!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Levi?! Ruri-chan and the Shadow Lord are two completely different characters who are meant to be drawn in completely different art styles! If I mush Ruri-chan into the corner, it’ll ruin the poster’s dynamic!”

“But pleeeeeaaaassseeeee?”

Cue extra pouty Levi

Eventually, you agree to make a separate drawing of Ruri-chan for Levi to hang up next to the poster, because you think that otherwise, he’ll go crazy

When the date rolls around where you’re almost done with everything, Levi formally sends out an invitation to everyone of importance

Man invites everyone from Luke to Diavolo over for the “revealing ceremony” where he plans to hang the poster on his wall

Actually tried to get the demon king to come as well, but Lucifer stopped him before he could get an invitation out

When everyone sees what you’ve been working on for so many weeks, they’re all MEGA impressed because hello??? they did not know you were this skilled???

It quickly turns into a competition, with each one of them trying to outdo each other with how vigorously they can compliment you

And soon enough you find yourself swamped with requests from every other demon in the room, begging you to make them something as elaborate as you did Levi

Satan

It’s a system you guys have set up, where every Tuesday and Thursday night, you’ll sit in the common room on the couch facing each other and will simply open your books to do what you will

You always draw, and Satan always reads

And neither will bother the other until the grandfather clock chimes twelve times, whereupon you both bid each other goodnight and wait for the next session where you do it all over

Except for today, that is

“What are you drawing?”

Ah, there it is

The one question you were hoping Satan would never ask

You subtly (incredibly awkwardly) change the subject, commenting on the color of Satan’s jacket to distract him from his inquiry, and he picks up on the hint, quietly huffing as he turns back to his book

But the mild irritation he feels doesn’t let him fully delve back into the realm of the nonfiction novel he was reading, so he’s more than a little distracted as he goes back to reading about human anthropology

And it’s in this state of distraction that he notices the little glances you’re stealing every so often, before returning to your sketchpad

Yeah, it doesn’t take long for Satan to put two and two together

“Are you drawing me?”

An incredulous question, asked in such an offending tone

He sounds so irate by the fact that you can’t help but helplessly deny it, muttering something about drawing plants and flowers instead

But Satan doesn’t believe it, and in an instant he’s standing behind you, staring at the sketch in your hands which has oh-so-beautifully captured the essence of him on the couch, engrossed in a book with the light from the flames in the fireplace flickering gently against his skin

The anger at being drawn without having agreed to it quickly melts into a quiet awe for your skill

“Can I see your other drawings?” He asks gently, no longer irritated but actually impressed

“I-I’m not sure if you’ll want to—”

“Nonsense. Show me.”

And so you do

You hand him the sketchbook, avoiding his eyes as he flips to the very first page—and imagine his surprise when he sees that even that is a sketch of his face, though the artwork is significantly less advanced than the piece he just saw. Satan flips to the next page, and then the next, and the next, and sure enough: they’re all of him

“I-I just needed a model to practice my artwork on,” You mumble, gaze fixated on the couch. “And you were right there, so I couldn’t resist...and then I needed a model again. And again. And you were always there, and I know I never asked, but I’m sorry, and if you don’t want me to, I won’t—“

“Nonsense,” Satan murmurs, pressing a finger to your lips. His smile has never looked as sincere as it looks now, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face and the sketchbook in his hands

“I’ll be your model, if you so desire it. Just tell me how you want me to sit.”

Asmodeus

Your model for everything

You’re trying to draw the Hulk and you a good frame of reference? And you need a really muscular model? And Beel ABSOLUTELY fits the bill?

Yeah no, Asmo’s your model

You want to draw a child? Someone small and short, roughly the exact same height as Luke (who is an ANGEL and would absolutely help you)? Yeah no, Asmo’s still going to be your model.

Want a cute guy? Asmo. Cute girl? Asmo. Cute animal? Still Asmo.

Man refuses to leave you alone - the second he learns that you’re an artist he insists on gracing your work with the holy sight of his body

Highkey wants to model nude

And you’d be lying if you said that he was a bad model—man can hold a pose for hours without moving even a little, his only fault is that he talks incessantly—but you can easily quiet him by saying that you’re drawing his lips - and the moment you do so, he’s suddenly he’s stiller than a statue, doing his absolute best to remain frozen so that you can capture his perfection

Boi posts 100% of your content on his Devilgram, and while you were hesitant about it at first, now you’re just used to it

Thanks to him, you’re a lowkey celebrity

Like demons love your art style

It’s apparently very refreshing and human-like as compared to the dark and dreary art found in the Devildom, so people go wild over Asmo’s Devilgram page for it

Man thinks that they’d go even more wild if you drew something where he modeled nude

In fact, it’s lowkey a business deal that the two of you have - you allow Asmo to post your work on his Devilgram (giving credit to you, of course), and in exchange he pays for all your art supplies, acts as your model (though that’s really more of him wanting to than it being your choice), and even goes as far as to keep Mammon apart from you while you work, insisting that you need “privacy” and “quiet” while you draw

100% acts like he isn’t even more chatty than Mammon when given the chance

On the bright side, it’s thanks to these weekly art sessions where you draw and Asmo models and talks that you’re always up to date on the latest gossip. You’re 100% caught up with the fact that Zahhak just found out he has another illegitimate son and that Baphomet just liked Rusalka’s post from fourteen centuries ago

So yeah, the two of you have a mutually beneficial relationship

Asmodeus still insists that one thing would make it better though: him modeling nude

But Asmo is a sweetheart about everything, and he goes out of his way to pamper you

Specifically, your hands—after all, those are what work your artistic magic!

Expect him to always be peppering your dominant hand with kisses, massaging it whenever you look tired, giving you weekly manicures completely free of charge, all out of the goodness of Asmo’s heart

*ahem* and weekly requests to model nude

Beelzebub

a m a z e m e n t

Boi is entranced

Like, he’s so mesmerized by your art that he’s not even paying attention to the food sitting right in front of him, simply opting to stare more intently at the drawing you’re holding up so eagerly

It’s quite beautiful, really: The seven demon brothers surrounding you, a reworking of a photograph Lucifer took a few months ago but in your art style. And for that last fact, Beel thinks he likes this version better

“Wow,” He finally manages to say, still too impressed to really think of anything else

He lets his brothers shower you in praise and compliments, silently nodding along and agreeing with every plaudit they thrust your way

But the moment you’re alone, expect to be scooped into his arms and carried to his room

Boi instantly wants to know the process

When do you draw? How long does it take? Where do you do it? How are you getting your supplies? Who pays?

It’s not so much the physical process he’s interested in, but rather the nuances of art that make your work look so you. He’s not interested in learning for the sake of doing, but simply for the sake of understanding because he already appreciates your art so much

Absolutely invites you to his room to have you show him the art process the next time you start working on a piece

And after the first time, then, he invites you back a second - then a third - and then the two of you have settled into a routine where after school, you come to his room and pencil away in your sketchpad, with Beel watching in the background, munching on snacks

It’s quite relaxing for him, actually

He likes watching as you bring a piece together, going over previously flat areas with a second layer of shading to make certain elements pop—and even if he doesn’t completely understand what you’re doing, he’s entirely willing to learn, listening peacefully as you explain what the various tools do

By the end of the month, man has actually memorized all the names of your supplies, handing them to you every time you ask for it - be it something as simple as a request for an eraser or just the blending stump

Lowkey, your work has actually improved since you began working up in Beel’s room

Not only does he have the most comfortable setup, but the man pampers you like royalty, always making sure that there’s water or food for you in case you need something

(And if you do happen to require something that isn’t already in Beel’s room, man will 100% get it for you so that you don’t have to stop what you’re doing)

Honestly, it’s the perfect arrangement: he gives you the ideal working space and you give him hours upon hours of intrigue

And if you happen to begin sitting in his lap one day while you work, something which quickly turns into a pattern, who’s there to stop anything? ;)

Belphegor

Man naps

A lot

And you just happen to be his favorite pillow, so it’s hardly a surprise when all your free time is spent in the presence of a dozing Belphie, always passed out over your legs

So once, just once, you pull your sketchpad out from under your pillow and work on it, a cautious eye trained on the seventh-born’s every move in case he stirs

And when that first time goes smoothly, you pull your sketchpad out a second time

Then a third

Then a fourth - and suddenly, you’re caught in a pattern

It was really just a matter of time until Belphie woke up one day and you didn’t notice

And it’s already too late when the drowsy demon lifts his head, peering curiously onto your lap to see what you’re working on—much to your horror

“Y-you’re awake,” You mutter halfheartedly, a sick feeling settling in your stomach as you watch the demon’s expression shift as he studies your artwork

You hate it

A bubble of anxiety begins to rise, fear over whether he will like your work or call it bad, whether he’ll make fun of your work or tell the brothers, whether he’ll be kind about it or mean

But then, much to your surprise, he flops back onto your lap, utterly unphased

“Nice,” The demon comments casually, stretching as he rests his head along your thigh. “It’s pretty.”

You can only blink as he falls back asleep, utterly confused as to what just happened

He woke up, right? And he saw your art? And he complimented it, telling you that he thought it was nice and pretty?

A sound of disbelief escapes your mouth as you try to process the utter nonchalance with which the whole exchange had concluded with, your shock only interrupted by the light sound of Belphie, who’s already snoring

You groan

But now that Belphie has seen your work, it’s not like there’s much point in hiding it any longer, right?

You pull your sketchbook out, silently continuing to work on the design that the man napping on your lap had said to be “nice,” adding some finishing touches to it

And when Belphie wakes up, he speaks nothing of the entire exchange

From that point and onward, you become a little more comfortable around him, relieved that you don’t need to talk about it with him

And he gets it

For all your free time, while he naps, you draw, and the two of you find a comfortable form of peace together, an odd tranquility lurking in the fact that there are no questions, no answers, just you and him, the sound of scribbling and snoring, your sketchpad and his pillow

And really, who needs anything else?

Solomon

He’s probably the first one to realize, on his own, that you’re an artist

The two of you have nearly all your classes together, thanks to Lord Diavolo, so it’s hardly surprising when the ever-astute sorcerer picks up on the fact that every time he casts you a second glance, you’re working on some mysterious sketch underneath your desk

Doesn’t really care at first

Until he sees your work

Man actually stops when he picks your sketchbook up off the ground, inspecting the page it had flipped open to after you dropped it

“Holy shit”

Doesn’t even ask for permission, he just begins browsing through the sketchbook, growing more and more impressed with each new page he sees

You only snatch the book back from his hands when you realize that the sketch he’s staring at so intently is one you drew of him, thanking him for picking it up with a huff and awkwardly trying to remove yourself from the situation as fast as humanly (heh, yes that is a pun) possible

Wizard boy stops you, ofc

“Come with me”

“But I have class soon—"

Again, doesn’t even wait for your agreement, man just drags you by the forearm to the library and flips open a book, throws down his own notebook, and demands that you use your “art skills or whatever” to help him

Sigh

Precious wizard boy isn’t very good with words when he’s all worked up

It takes you a good 5 minutes to understand that he wants you to compare the summoning circle outlined on the book with the one he sketched to identify where he went wrong, because apparently you have an “artist’s eye” and therefore you should be able to assist him - and he refuses to believe you when you try to convince him that no, this is not your strong suit and you will likely be unable to help him

He gets whinier than Asmo (probably where he gets it from) and will not stop nagging you even as you try to leave, so eventually you just give in and agree to try to help him - and it wounds up being surprisingly easy for you to realize that he missed the secondary outline of the inner circle, among another few minor mistakes

Huh, maybe you are naturally inclined toward this

From that moment and onward, Solomon decides that you are officially valuable (not only do you have magical potential, but you have an eye for summoning circles too? how UNFAIR) and begins spending all his time with you

Doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re an artist at first—is really more interested in how your skills can be applied

But then one day, after a particularly rough night of going through twelve whole summoning circles for twelve powerful demons, he takes a nap and wakes up to find you passed out on the floor, sleeping on top of your sketchbook where you fell asleep doodling him

Highkey touched

And slowly, he begins casually “falling asleep” around you more often, to see and flip through more of your artwork when he wakes up

Sigh

Bby is fucking shady even when he does wholesome shit

Simeon

Okay let’s be real

There’s no peace with the seven demon brothers. Solomon is chaotic. Luke, as much as we love him, is just a lot to be around. And even with Barbatos next to him, Diavolo is a walking tornado that tends to wreak havoc whenever he wills it (and he usually wills it).

So honestly, being with Simeon is the only place of tranquility you can find in the entire Devildom

Specifically, his room

*Which is off-limits to all the aforementioned individuals

He extended the invitation for you to spend some “relaxation time” in his quarters whenever you pleased at the beginning of the year, his angelic heart already sensing the absolute whirlwind of disaster you were walking into when you joined RAD

And while you declined his offer immediately out of politeness, you found yourself sheepishly knocking on his door not one week into the program

And now it’s become an every-day sort of thing

So yeah

Simeon knows about your art

In fact, you can’t seem to draw unless you’re in his presence, because at this point, he naturally soothes you so much that your hand is only steady when you hear the sound of his calm breathing in the background

In fact, you work best when the two of you are spread out on his couch, your back resting comfortably on Simeon’s shoulder while he writes (yes, he manually writes all his books on pen and paper) and you put your legs up on the couch, sketching away in your notebook

It’s the very image of peace, something you can’t seem to find anywhere else in this realm

And Simeon, bless his heart, may be a master of calligraphy, but the precious angel cannot draw to save his life - a fact which you have taken it upon yourself to handle

See, the angel gets tired every now and then—understandable, given that he produces literal masterpieces at his hands

And so when he gets tired, what does he do?

Make incomprehensible doodles in the upper left corners of his papers

So, of course, you’ve taken it upon yourself to bring those doodles to life (even if it requires a half-hour of inspection before you can make out what the sketch was supposed to be) and Simeon loves it

The expression of eagerness that surfaces every time you inform him that you’ve finished a piece is so rewarding, because the childlike glee with which he takes the paper from your hands to inspect it always sends a rush of warmth to your heart as he gushes in appreciation

But uh

Simeon is a special kind of chaotic, something that manifests every time he doodles something on paper

You stare at the angel in disbelief as he informs you that his latest doodle (what appears to be a banana-looking creature in sunglasses?) was actually a monkey ironing clothes—unsure what to say in light of this information

But it’s okay :) There only needs to be one artist in this relationship, and it clearly isn’t him

Luke

It started with cake

He needed “inspiration” to make something for Barbatos, as a thank-you gift for the pastry lessons the elder gave him, but Luke claimed that everything he made, while it tasted fine, lacked in the aesthetic department

And while normally you would play it Simeon-style, leaving it to the younger angel to handle things on his own so that he can grow individually, you felt too bad watching him discard another batch of cupcakes into Beel’s mouth, rubbing his head in aggravation over how annoying it was that nothing was looking right

So you helped him out

It was nothing major, really

Just eight doodles—subtle yet elegant designs for a triple-tiered cake, childish and bouncy arrangements to store flan, little details in frosting to give cupcakes the added element of specialty that makes them infinitely better

But the second Luke saw your paper, he went wild

Boi was running to the kitchen so fast he barely even had the time to shout “thank you”

Apparently, your little sketches sparked inspiration in him so strongly that the flames burned til midnight (much to Simeon’s disapproval), but when Luke was finally done with everything, he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of desserts that looked so perfect it was hard to imagine that he brought them to life from your sketches

Luke spent ages thanking you, shoving desserts down your throat even when you insisted that you were full, so unimaginably grateful that you helped him out of what he called “chef’s block”

Each “thank you” was accompanied either a brownie or a slice of mango mousse or whatever new pastry Luke was creating that day, and before long you were getting to enjoy luxury foods on the daily (much to Beel’s jealousy)

Boy only believed that the debt was paid when you told him that there was no debt to pay, that you sketched those quick little doodles for him out of kindness and not obligation

Believe it or not, Luke’s eyes actually welled with tears for a second at that, before he wrapped you up in a giant (is it really giant if the hugger is so little?) hug, wailing something about you being too “pure” and “perfect” for the Devildom, and that one day you would be very happy in the Celestial Realm

You pat his head, telling him that if it truly made him this happy, you would be glad to help him out again and sketch some food doodles whenever he wanted some new ideas

Cue another round of hugs, muffled crying, and sobs about how amazing you are

Barbatos

Barbatos knew, of course

Not because he used his powers or anything, he would hardly use them for something so trivial, but he was aware from the start that you were an artist because it was he who prepared for your arrival in the Devildom, ensuring that you had all the same amenities and comforts you were used to in the human realm

And, as such, that included art supplies

So the very moment he set his eyes on you, he was aware that you were an artist

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually be good at it

He sees your sketchbook when he’s casually strolling through the RAD library, finding you completely knocked out on one of the tables, the spiral binding of the sketchpad still digging indents into your cheek where you lie on top of it

At first, the butler rearranges your position as a courtesy

He lifts your head and rests it on your hand - which makes a much softer pillow - coincidentally placing your books back inside your bag and taking a moment to organize the papers strewn across the desk

But then he just happens to glance inside

And the second he does, he’s mesmerized

There’s not much in the world that can surprise Barbatos - not after he’s looked after Diavolo, of all people, for so many millennia - but the butler still finds himself holding his breath as he flips through your sketchpad, each piece telling a story so evocative that it leaves him wanting more even when he arrives at a blank page, abruptly realizing that he’s just gone through your entire sketchbook without your permission

Of course, you just have to wake up at that precise moment - sleepy eyes glancing up at the butler and wondering if you’re hallucinating, but the book in his hands is far too real and the shocked expression on his face is impossibly jarring and you flinch, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you realize what must have happened

Barbatos is a perfect gentleman about it, kindly telling you to get more rest so that you don’t pass out in a public library surrounded by demons who want to eat your soul, but he ends the sharp warning with a rather kind remark about your artwork

“I liked the second-last piece best,” He murmurs, casting you a cryptic smile before bidding you farewell

And obviously, the moment he’s out of sight, your nose is buried in your sketchbook, fingers flipping furiously to find the second-last piece you drew which you cannot seem to remember at all, and—

A flush immediately erupts on your cheeks as you see the colored sketch, something inspired by nothing more than a whim

It’s simply two people on a walk—both of them vague imitations of what your mind had wistfully conjured up—one of them bearing the telltale mismatched hair and olive green eyes, the other sharing a quiet resemblance to yourself - a conscious decision, of course

But just as you’re about to flip off the page, another detail you’d forgotten about draws your attention—and your cheeks suddenly burn in embarrassment as you realize why Barbatos singled this piece out

The figures are smiling, gazing at each other from the corners of their eyes. And there, in the very center of the piece, it is obvious:

They are holding hands

Diavolo

RIP to Diavolo’s royal painter

They have been replaced

By you

As much as you fought it, as much as you argued that you were not fitting of this position, as much as you pleaded with the demon lord to not force this title upon your shoulders, Diavolo’s decision to appoint you as the honorary Devildom painter was final—and nothing can change his mind once it’s made up

The title is really just that: a title. Diavolo knows that you’re a busy student, and while he honored your artistic talents with this position, he’s not about to actually force you through the expected proceedings of a true royal painter, not while you’re trying to survive being an exchange student in hell with an entirely unfamiliar curriculum in front of you

But on occasion, he’ll send you a text, asking if you’re free

And you’ll head on over to his palace, ready to paint him

And unlike every other demon, angel, and human in the Devildom, when Diavolo models for you, he actually models nude

Asmo is jealous

Sexual tension is high when you paint him, let’s just leave things at that

And honestly, it really doesn’t matter what you paint - Diavolo seems to be more interested in the fact that it’s a human who did the art in the first place

He once saw your RAD binder, noticing the little doodles you’d drawn on the corner of all your papers, and he immediately took them—declaring that they were art to be preserved for all eternity for historical documentation purposes

So yeah

There’s a hall in Diavolo’s palace filled with your RAD math homework, an eternal reminder of the assignments you copied off of Solomon

(You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you’ve drawn some rather inappropriate doodles on those pages or the fact that, despite having copied all the answers, you still managed to get nearly one-third of the problems wrong, and now your mistakes are to be showcased in the Devildom for centuries to come)

It gets to the point where you and Solomon start making bets over how basic you can get with your art for Diavolo to still consider it “amazing” and “utterly awe-inspiring,” as he likes to put it

In honor of that bet, there is currently a banana peel with a few marker doodles on it hanging in a preserved case in an iced room in the lowest levels of the palace, as none of the “art” can be wasted

But in truth, the demon lord’s fixation with human culture is endearing, especially when Diavolo tries so hard to be accepting of it

So eventually you stop giving Diavolo wacky art and actually start putting your full effort into your creations—your reward being the fact that the final piece you complete gets hung in Diavolo’s private bedroom, where he promises to gaze at it every night for the rest of eternity, vowing to remember his time with you every time he sees it

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accioxreparo · 4 years

Photo

ink stains

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

pairing: George Weasley x ravenclaw!reader

warnings: none

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

tagging: @the-hufflepuff-of-221b

~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They had yet to write back.

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing new today?

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

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

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

“Would you like some help?”

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

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

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

What makes you think something is wrong?

It was seconds later when you received your response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can I ask you something?

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

Go for it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you like them? The pictures.

The response was almost immediate.

I love them.

***

“Miss Y/L/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You doubted he remembered any of that though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

It had made you smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“You’re joking.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I knew it was you, you know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#the ending is eh but i love soulmates #hp fanfic #harry potter imagine #harry potter one shot #george weasley x reader #george weasley #george wealsey imagine #george weasley x y/n #soulmate au #george weasley fanfiction #c: george weasley #my stuff #my fics

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starculler · 3 years

Text

Lead Me Down Another Road (preview)

Word Count: 2975

I fell into a minor rabbit hole and stand before you now with a scrap from the Crèchemaster Anakin AU I'm working on. The full fic is a few thousand words longer than this (and will go up on ao3 within the week), but this is technically the original bit I'd planned on writing (and is thus self-contained enough that I'm comfortable posting it alone here. As a treat). Hope y'all enjoy it and the glimpse of at least one of several Jedi OCs I've been having to come up with for this lol Note: I'm using crèche-minder in place of crèchemaster because it fits a little better with how I've set up the role in the au -- the particulars of which will be explored in the full fic.

Anakin stood from where he’d sat among the younglings in Targon Clan when he caught sight of his master standing just inside the room, all ten pairs of eyes straying from their painting to watch him stretch. He grimaced briefly at the splotches of bright paint he could already see on his tunic and pants, but made it a point to smile at a scowling nautolan making a grab at his ankle. He shuffled back, just out of reach, and had to dodge another two pairs of eager, sticky fingers with a put-upon sigh that failed to fully mask his amusement. It was the same song and dance every time he was sent to Knight D’nali for crèche-duty, and he’d long gotten wise to the initiates’ tricks.

What made today’s game of Catch-the-Padawan novel was Obi-Wan’s presence hovering at the edges of Anakin’s focus. His master hadn’t come to collect him like this since his first few weeks, confident that Anakin would neither get lost on his way to and from the crèche, nor try to dodge his punishment after that awful first and final attempt. He shuddered at the memory even as he leaped nimbly over a pair of near-humans who’d thought to tackle him from behind. He laughed when they turned, eyes wide and betrayed for a moment before trying for a frontal attack.

He dodged, weaving between ten tiny, determined younglings — baiting them with the promise of his capture before stepping just out of reach once more — until he hit something solid from behind. He blinked, stunned for a second and sure that he’d had enough space still to maneuver around, only to yelp when an arm snaked around his waist and pulled him off his feet with an ease that spoke of more than a little help from the Force.

“Master!” He groaned, his protest drowned out by mixed cheering and jeering from Targon Clan and their minder’s own loud laughter. Anakin shot Knight D’nali as much of a betrayed look as he could while caught, but the traitor only laughed harder. He huffed.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, grinning and smug and just as much of a traitor as the kiffar knight, “it seems I’ve won a prize to take back with me. A whole padawan all for myself.” A chorus of “No’s” and groaning followed the statement, and Anakin, face warmer than it had been a minute ago, suddenly found the floor much more interesting than a gaggle of disappointed initiates. Obi-Wan, still being a traitor, only laughed.

“Alright, alright. Settle down now,” Knight D’nali interrupted, wading into the chaos so she stood between them and the younglings. “Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker have other duties to attend to, and you little Jedi have a latemeal to prepare for.”

With only a mild amount of protest, the little ones acquiesced. In true, and still vaguely eerie to Anakin, Jedi fashion, they bowed in sync, calling out a discordant mix of goodbyes and thank yous. Anakin nodded in return, starting to wriggle in his master’s grip in a futile attempt to free himself. Obi-Wan held fast even after two of the younglings, a zabrak and the same nautolan who’d first tried to grab onto him, crept around Knight D’nali to hand him four sheets of flimsi splattered with a variety of bright, clashing paint.

He sighed, resigned to the embarrassment of being gifted their paintings under the too-amused gazes of both knights, and murmured a quiet “Thanks” that made the pair smile so wide he thought their faces might split. Their obvious happiness made something warm bubble up in his chest and his hand tingle where flimsi met skin. It was hardly the first time one of the younglings in any of the clans he frequented had given him something small like this to take back with him — he had a wall in his room dedicated to doodles and paintings and a corner set aside, free of his usual clutter, for knickknacks and crafts — but the shock and awe and tingling warmth it left in him never wore off.

Anakin’s gifts had never lied with children. His temper ran too hot and he never quite knew what to say to anyone his age, much less younger than him. It had, in fact, taken months of constant supervision, patience, and teaching from the crèche-minders who’d agreed to take on his crèche-duty punishments for him to build up any sort of rapport with the little ones under their care. It had been hard and frustrating, but ultimately rewarding, work even if it had been borne out of his master’s own frustrated desperation.

The arm around his waist squeezed briefly, and Anakin had to fight down yet another burning flush when he realized Obi-Wan had most likely noticed where his thoughts had wandered. He floundered for something to say or do, but settled for a heavy sigh that drew a brief chuckle from his master.

“I apologize again for stealing Anakin back so early, Knight D’nali,” Obi-Wan said and Anakin could picture the apologetic smile on his face as he spoke.

“No need,” said Knight D’nali, smiling just enough that the wrinkles in her eyes and the upward pull of her cheeks distorted the two, bright red tattoos — one line the width of her thumb and the other no more than half a centimeter — cutting vertically down from hairline to jaw over her right eye. “I may be getting older, but I remember well enough how busy a padawan’s life can be.”

“You’re not that old,” Anakin groused and earned himself a huff from his master and a bark of laughter from Knight D’nali.

“That’s sweet of you padawan, but the gray in my hair tells another story. And not another word about it,” she said the second Anakin opened his mouth. “There’ll be no buttering up this old knight. I told you, if you’re back here in less than a week I will sit this clan down for a four-hour meditation at least. Force knows your master certainly won’t object.”

“Yes Knight D’nali,” he said in the dull tone every chastised padawan seemed to affect, much to Targon Clan’s delight if their stifled giggling was any indication. Knight D’nali simply nodded, satisfied. Obi-Wan, again, laughed.

“And on that note, we’ll be taking our leave now. Knight D’nali.” Obi-Wan bowed as well as he could with an armful of padawan still pinned against him. “Targon Clan.” He offered the still-giggling younglings a much shallower bow. “May the Force be with you,” he said, echoed only a moment after by Anakin, before turning on his heel and striding out into the hall.

Anakin wriggled again and said: “Master, you can put me down now.” Obi-Wan hummed but didn’t so much as slow down until Anakin huffed, rolled his eyes, and added an only somewhat petulant “Please.”

It took him a moment to find his balance when Obi-Wan suddenly let go, but soon enough he was keeping pace with his master, just shy of being at the knight’s side. They walked in silence, past the doors to other clans of exuberant younglings and down the almost confusing pattern of turns that made up the Temple’s Crèche. It was, he knew, meant to be confusing so that intruders would have a harder time reaching the Jedi’s most vulnerable members on the off chance they made it through the Temple, guards, and every Jedi in between. He also knew that Obi-Wan was purposefully leading him through the longest route rather than the faster shortcuts one of the other crèche-minders, a young pantoran knight he’d only met with a few times so far, had taught him.

They nodded at the pair of guards stationed at the Crèche’s primary entrance once they’d finally made it through, and again to any Jedi they passed along the main corridor. Anakin glanced curiously at his master when he led them not towards the dormitory or refectory, but instead toward the salles and meditation rooms. He pursed his lips, unsure if it was a good or bad sign.

The salles meant lightsaber practice — Anakin’s favorite — but he doubted they’d stop there. He had, after all, been in the crèche because he’d let his temper get the best of him again, and Obi-Wan had made a point of steering Anakin away from as many potentially aggressive outlets as he could until he was sure Anakin was cool-headed. That didn’t stop him, however, from reaching for the lightsaber on his belt, shiny and still new considering he’d only just built it less than half a year ago. The trip to Ilum had been terrifying and exciting in equal measure, just the two of them instead of waiting for the next crèche clan’s planned gathering. It still awed him sometimes, to brush the warm, steel cylinder and find it there or to sit and listen to his crystal’s song virtually anytime he wanted.

It was a scrap of undeniable proof that he was a Jedi. That, late-comer or not, he belonged here just as much as any other padawan or knight.

Obi-Wan slowed, looking back at Anakin with the kind of unbearably soft, caring smile that told him his master had probably felt where his thoughts had gone. He held an arm out and Anakin hesitated a moment at the familiar invitation, torn between embarrassed frustration and elation at being invited close in a fairly public space, before stepping up so he was beside rather than behind Obi-Wan. He stiffened when Obi-Wan put an arm around his shoulder, but relaxed before his master could even think about pulling away. Anakin pressed into his side, deciding that, right now, eleven-nearly-twelve wasn’t too old for the show of affection, and just about melted when Obi-Wan’s arm shifted to briefly squeeze his shoulder.

His vain hope for the salles was, of course, dashed as they walked passed to duck into one of the smaller, unoccupied meditation rooms. Despite not wanting to complain, Anakin couldn’t completely stifle a sigh as he took in the room: bland, small, and box-shaped, with a few colorful cushions laid out and more stacked against the walls with a few other types of seating for those who might need it. Obi-Wan flashed him a quick smile, squeezing his shoulder once more before letting go and settling on an older-looking, dark blue cushion. Anakin breathed in, held it for a count of four, and breathed out in an effort to brace himself for the ensuing lecture or meditation he was sure to suffer. He picked up a red cushion from the far wall, calling it to his hands with the Force, and sat himself down in front of his master, close enough that their knees almost touched. Then, he waited.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan started after they’d sat in silence for a few tranquil-bordering-on-nerve-wracking minutes, their slow, even breathing the only sound in the room. Anakin met his master’s gaze, shifting slightly as a small kernel of icy unease sprang to life in the pit of his stomach. “You’re not in trouble, Padawan.” Obi-Wan smiled, still soft. Still caring. Anakin frowned.

“You don’t usually bring me here unless I am.”

“I suppose I do, don’t I?” He seemed to speak mostly to himself, brow furrowed and a wry twist to his lips, like he’d found something funny. Anakin cocked his head to one side, watching as Obi-Wan breathed deeply a few times like he was trying to center himself. Or, a traitorous part of his mind whispered, bracing himself. Anakin squirmed in place, hardly daring to breathe himself as the unease in his stomach grew a fraction larger. “I’ve been talking to a few of the crèche-minders you’ve been working with.” Anakin swallowed, thoughts flitting towards the many mistakes he’d made the last few months and especially at first. “They’ve given you rather glowing reviews if I do say so myself,” he said, a small but pleased curl in his lips. And Anakin—

Anakin blinked.

“Really?” he asked, and wished the question hadn’t come out quite so bewildered. His master grinned and Anakin swore there was pride gleaming somewhere in his eyes.

“Really. They’ve enjoyed having you there. Knight D’nali says you have an uncanny ability for distraction,” Obi-Wan teased. Anakin stuck his tongue out and earned himself a bark of laughter. “Master Benni,” he continued, sobering once more, “made an interesting suggestion when I spoke to him last week. I—” Obi-Wan stopped. Inhaled.

“Master?”

A fine tremor had started in Anakin’s hands at some point. Excitement at first, quickly drowned out by a fresh wave of nerves. He’d once thought, at first, that Tatooine would drown in rain the day Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t have a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue. A nearly three-year partnership with the knight had broken the facade a bit by now, but the sight of Obi-Wan struggling to put his thoughts together unnerved Anakin even after his master smiled reassuringly, reaching forward to clasp one of Anakin’s hands between both of his.

“There are many paths to becoming a Jedi, as I’m sure you’ve learned by now. Guardians, Council members, diplomats, teachers … crèche-minders,” he said, emphasizing the last. Anakin’s breath caught, eyes wide as the implication sunk slowly in.

“Did— Did Master Benni,” Anakin started, strangled and halting. Obi-Wan nodded. “But—But I’m horrible with younglings! I’ve made so many mistakes. I—”

“You are learning, Anakin. No one expects you to be perfect at anything. Much less in dealing with younglings.” Anakin opened his mouth. Closed it. Floundered in his incomprehension until—

“Are you … Are you getting rid of me?” he asked, voice suddenly small and hurt. He turned his hand in Obi-Wan’s grip, wrapping his smaller fingers around his master’s wrist as if he would disappear from Anakin’s sight at any moment.

“No,” Obi-Wan said firmly, one of his thumbs stroking the back of Anakin’s hand. “You are my padawan, Anakin, and I will never abandon you.” Obi-Wan paused there, earnest and scorching in his focus until Anakin nodded, more numb than anything else at the moment. Satisfied, his master continued: “But I do think that this is a good opportunity for you.” Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked down to their hands and then back up, meeting Anakin’s once more, steady and confident and calm. “You’ve changed a little since you’ve been around the crèches. I can see a confidence in you that wasn’t there before, and better control. Not just with the Force, though I’ve no doubt entertaining younglings for hours has done wonders.” Anakin flushed, fuzzy warmth buzzing in his chest at the praise.

“You feel things — everything — so strongly, Anakin, and I fear I’ve not been able to help you much in that regard.”

Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut when Obi-Wan held a hand up for silence and settled for a quiet pout instead, much to his master’s amusement.

“I appreciate your faith in me,” he said with a nod, “and I do not doubt that you would learn a lot at my side alone. But I’m coming to realize where you might need more than I am able to give, not because I don’t want to. Force knows I’d do whatever I could to help you, Anakin, but there are simply things I won’t be able to understand. Haven’t been able to understand,” he added and Anakin frowned at the brief, bitter note he could pick out in his master’s tone. “Master Benni’s offer has as much to do with your potential as it does with your connection to both the initiates and their minders. I— We think it’s something you should consider, despite how it’s likely not the path you first envisioned for yourself.

“You will still be my padawan, always,” he said and squeezed Anakin’s hand to reinforce the sentiment, “but you would split your time between myself and a rotating number of the crèche’s minders under Master Benni’s supervision. You’ll be busy, and kept in the Temple more often than not even if I’m sent out on missions. It may cut into your classes or lightsaber training, in which case you’ll have to work harder to keep up, but there’s not a doubt in my mind that you could do it.”

Anakin nodded, mind whirling and thoughts spinning. There was more Obi-Wan wanted to say, he could tell, but Anakin was grateful for the lull granted to him to gather his thoughts.

“I—” Anakin swallowed, his throat and mouth suddenly dry. He held his master’s wrist a fraction tighter. “Can I think about it?” He winced at how his voice cracked, but Obi-Wan only nodded, smile still firmly in place.

“Of course. You don’t have to decide on anything until you’re ready. Master Benni made it quite clear to me that the offer is open to you whenever you wish to take it, whether that time is now or after you’ve been knighted.”

Anakin blinked, balking at the magnitude of not only the offer, but the old Master’s apparent faith in him, even as the buzzing warmth from earlier threatened to consume him fully now. He felt a fresh flush rise on his cheeks and a sheen of stinging tears prick at his eyes, held back by sheer force of will because he refused to waste the water just yet. Slowly, carefully, Obi-Wan squeezed his hand before leaning forward, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Anakin’s outer tunic. When he pulled, Anakin went as easily as he used to into his mother’s arms, overwhelmingly grateful for the contact just then.

“I’ll think about it, Master,” he mumbled into Obi-Wan’s robes, his face pressed into his master’s chest. “Thanks.”

Obi-Wan only hummed in response, tucking Anakin close and rubbing soothing circles into his back while Anakin clutched at him in return.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #crechemaster anakin #creche master anakin #my fanfic #i've been enamored with this au for the longest time lol #so i'm excited to finally be working on my own spin so to speak

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lovelivingmydreams · 4 years

Text

The guy from the foodcourt

So @reddstardust made a few really cool doodles. And one made me want to write this. So show them some love as well! Enjoy!

This is part of this bigger story, first chapter here

Nico groaned in frustration and banged his head on the desk.

There were piles of discarded notes around him. Why was this so hard?

“Okay so change of medium didn’t help,” Félix relented. Nico could hear his creativity was getting frustrated as well, though he was trying to stay positive for his sake.

“All it did was desecrate some poor tree’s memory,” Alejo pointed out in dismay.

“I’ll recycle the paper,” Nico sighed. What to do?

“It’s cramped in here. And too dark,” Alejo complained trying in vain to get comfortable on the windowsill since there was literally nowhere else for him to sit.

He had a point. The window didn’t exactly let in a lot of light and the lightbulb wasn’t helping that much.

“That’s it! A change of scenery! Brilliant idea!” Félix grinned at his opposite/partner in crime.

“Hm… I don’t know about brilliant, but it’s okay,” the darker facet agreed.

Nico nodded. Maybe he could go to the mall…

“Who knows! The people passing by might yield inspiration!” Félix pointed out eagerly.

“But we gotta focus. No side trips, no distractions. We get there, we get inspired, we write the song and we’re out. No shopping. This song has to be done by the end of the week or Diego is going to get mad at me for not keeping you two in check!”

Alejo always turned just a bit darker and scarier when he drew a line in the sand.

Félix put a hand on his heart and raised his other, palm facing Alejo.

“I swear on my spectacular spectacles, my tense friend. No unneeded distractions.”

“By Aphrodite’s hairbrush!” Félix exclaimed, his star shaped frames shifting to hearts.

“Nooo!”

“Just look!”

Nico had just sat down and looked up under ‘mild’ encouragement from his creativity, who also covered his hormones. Well his desire for romance and other… Well desires in general. Success, love, happiness. All that stuff.

Right now his attention, and therefore Nico’s, was drawn by a handsome stranger ordering food at one of the shops in the food court.

“Just look at him! He’s so cute!” Félix gushed. And Nico couldn’t disagree. He was very handsome.

He also looked rather tired.

“We don’t have time for this. Besides he doesn’t look in the mood to be bothered anyway,” Alejo argued, though Nico could hear a bit of doubt. The guy was really cute.

“Maybe bothering him will get him in a better mood? Let’s take a chance, what do you say?”

“We don’t even know if he’s gay!”

Félix clapped in delight right as Alejo groaned at his accidental rhyme.

“No distractions, you promised!” his inner edgelord insisted as the man sat himself down at a table and Nico went back to his blank screen.

“But love!” Félix whined. “Can’t that be the only exception?”

“Not when we have people waiting for a new song! Maybe if we get at least an idea down, then we can think of talking to the guy. If we can find a non-creepy reason to do so.”

Félix groaned but relented his frames going back to star shaped.

“Very well! Brainstorming time!”

Nico wrote down at least a hundred beginnings of ideas already, but most seemed to be at least somewhat related to the cute guy sitting a few tables away.

“Come on royal pain! You are killing me here!”

“Maybe if I could just chance a glance at him? He might be our muse!” Félix pleaded.

“That makes no sense.”

Before the argument could escalate Nico’s food arrived.

He was honestly relieved. He could put the laptop away for a bit and just let his thoughts go free for a moment. Hopefully not drifting towards…

From the corner of his eye he could see the guy get up. Welp that didn’t take long.

“He’s coming over!” Felix declared triumphantly.

“You don’t know that! Don’t get Nico’s hopes up!”

Nico tried to focus on his food, but it was impossible not to sneak a peek as the guy passed by. Oh, he did not mind that view either. “Look away before he sees!” Alejo hissed.

“He looks so fine!”

“He could still be a jerk. Or already dating someone. Or straight!”

“Oh come on Misery Business. There is nothing straight about that guy. My gaydar is on point and he is 99% gay. And if he had a boyfriend, he would be here with him. Or he’d at least be in a better mood,” Félix argued.

“One, you do not have me convinced gaydar is a real thing. Two, there are a ton of situations where he could have a boyfriend while also being here alone and in a bad mood. Having a relationship does not join you at the other person’s hip and it does not get rid of all the bad things in life.”

Alejo had a point there…

“And again, we should try to work on the song!” Another good point.

“Please, my dearest Paramour. One more look.”

Alejo sighed. “Fine! Just one.”

And so Nico looked up and…

“Oh god! Eye contact he caught you!”

“He’s looking back! Maybe he wants you to be looking at him!?”

“Is he looking at us? Maybe there is something behind us?”

Nico looked back, he couldn’t see anything much of note. But when he looked back at the stranger he was no longer looking at him. It was like he never even really noticed him sitting there.

“By the frozen head of Disney!” Félix exclaimed. He was clearly upset. He only made morbid Disney references when he got really down.

Alejo sighed a little relieved, but put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s fine. Let’s finish our meal and maybe we can come up with a song idea? Then after we can try and talk to him?”

“Would you really?” Nico thought it was awesome that his creativity and his anxiety got along so well. They looked out for one another. And pulled pranks on him and his other facets. They were a terrifyingly efficient team.

“Of course. Now what do you say?”

Félix nodded. “Let’s focus.”

And Nico got into the zone. The whole mall seemed to disappear around him except for the food in front of him. He knew he wanted to make something about mental health. He just didn’t know what aspect of it yet.

Then suddenly he heard a loud crashing sound nearby.

He looked up and could only just see a figure in an upturned trashcan.

Poor soul.

“Same,” Alejo smirked as he returned their attention to their work.

But that… Was actually not a bad idea.

“It’s a metaphor for life!” Félix gushed!

“Like how not dealing with an issue head on can cause it to pile up and before you know it bam! Disaster.”

“Are you trying to say something about…”

“Order 96!? Anyone?” Nico’s head snapped to the food stand and then over to the table where the mystery guy had sat earlier.

“Noooo!” Nico shared the musician’s sentiment. The handsome stranger was gone.

“He left without his food?” Alejo frowned. Nico got up and approached the table, indeed, the number 96 was sitting there abandoned and forgotten. He’d missed his chance. Now he’d never know.

“Would bringing him his food be an acceptable excuse to talk to him?” Félix asked desperately.

“Um… Yeah, sure. That’s probably the only reason we can justify chasing him down,” Alejo nodded nervously.

So Nico claimed the food and started walking around hoping to spot.

“Adonis at 8 o’clock!”

Nico’s head snapped in the direction Félix had pointed out and there he was, looking like the day had somehow gotten worse since Nico first noticed him.

Should he…?

Félix looked pleadingly at Alejo who sighed. “Well? Are you waiting for a written invitation or what?”

At that Nico immediately ran up to the guy. “Uh, Hey!” he called out still not sure what he was going to say.

When he came to a stop in front of him he realized that first and foremost he needed to catch his breath. It took him a second, but when he did he righted himself and gave the guy his best smile.

“There you are,” he sighed in relief. “I was afraid you’d left.” And that would’ve blown.

“You almost forgot your food…”

“He’s even cuter up close,” Félix sighed dreamily.

“He’s staring at us like we have two heads. This was a bad idea,” Alejo cringed.

He was staring at him kind of funny. Come on something to talk about… He really whished the guy was wearing a bracelet or anything of note to start a conversation about other than a bag of boiled carrots. And his sad look from earlier.

“Brilliant! Ask about that! Show how caring you are.”

“Well… We don’t have anything better so…”

“You looked really upset so I figured it might be some kind of comfort food or something. You mind kind of telling me about that?”

Please?

Nothing happened. Still staring strangely spooked at him. “Abort mission. I’m sorry Félix but this is not going to end well if we keep pushing!” Alejo rushed.

“Oh, very well. Goodbye handsome stranger,” Félix allowed reluctantly.

“It’s okay!” Nico rushed shoving the bag of food towards the stranger before he could do something to embarrass himself more. “Uh, it’s probably a bit too nosy for me to ask anyway.”

“Uh… Yeah!” The stranger replied, god why did even his voice have to sound so pleasant? And that while he was clearly 100% uncomfortable talking to him.

“Super nosy!! What’s wrong with you…man?” Nico would take offence, but he could see that the stranger was desperate to get out of the situation as fast as possible.

“We made him feel worse,” Alejo sighed guiltily.

“We didn’t mean to!” Félix argued.

“Does the intention matter? Look at him?”

“Ahhh, yeah… sorry about that. Have a good night.”

And so Nico turned around and walked away a little disappointed.

Neither Alejo nor Félix had much to say now, just allowing Nico to feel for a minute. And then he heard shoes squeaking and a voice behind him. “Uh…”

He looked around. The stranger. “Did he change his mind?!” Félix squealed.

“Maybe he just realized he was kind of rude and wanted to say sorry?” Alejo reasoned.

“Hey,” he greeted the stranger expectantly. He still looked really tense.

But now he was at least smiling. And it was a real cute smile.

“Hey…” he waved before showing him the bag of carrots. “Do you want this food? I… don’t.”

“What?” Félix and Alejo chorused confused and Nico couldn’t help but laugh.

“Then why did you buy it?” he asked.

The stranger looked away nervously and rubbed at the back of his head as he stammered trough his reply. Sending Félix into a squealing frenzy. The words cute and precious and all kinds of variations could be heard.

“Oh y-…pah-uh…Well it’s probably… you know, maybe because I was trying to see your backpack…”

Nico blinked confused as Alejo was trying to figure out what was so special about it. “Just ask him!” he eventually hissed as the uncertainty got to him.

“Wh-uh, my backpack?”

The stranger was still avoiding his eyes most of the time, a slight blush showing up on his cheeks.

“Yeah… I-I wanted to see if you had any… pride pins…”

Nico could only half follow the strangers explanation about not wanting to bother him because Félix was screaming and Alejo was screaming.

“Gay! He’s so definitely gay!”

“He wanted to know… He is interested!?”

“Oh gods, oh gods, this is amazing! He is so wonderful and earnest and just look at him he’s so worried he’s being weird! Just aaaah!”

“Which would’ve been amazing because I think you are really… cute.”

And then everything went quiet. Cute… He thinks I am cute…

“Don’t just stand there say something!”

“Oh… my… gosh…”

“Not that!”

“You should’ve just said ‘hi’!”

And the shy hopeful smile he got was just the most beautiful thing in existence.

“Oh-oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I had writers block anyway.”

Alejo gave Félix a playful shove at that.

“Oh! Uh… w-what were you trying to write? Uh, Misterrrr…?”

“Shut up, stop being adorable, my heart cannot take it!” Félix gushed.

Nico laughed. “Mr. Flores. Very formal of you! Uh… You can call me Nico if you’d like.”

The man laughed back, still a little tense but much more at ease than earlier.

“Mr. Sanders! But you can call me Thomas.”

“Thomas,” Félix repeated with a sigh, clearly halfway a plan to write an entire song just around the name alone somehow.

“To answer your question. I was attempting to write a song,” he explained as he led them both to the nearest table. He was planning on staying for quite a bit longer.

“Oh! I like… songs.” Nico smiled a little to himself, he wasn’t looking at him but he could already discern the little mental ‘are you kidding me?’ Thomas was thinking to himself at that answer. Nico, or more specifically Félix, had a suspicion of what he meant.

“He’s an artist too!!!” the master writer exclaimed.

“We don’t know that,” Alejo insisted.

“What’s yours about?”

Ah if only he knew the answer to that. “Uh… I don’t know yet. I- I think I like the idea of someone’s life…” No not quite. “or an aspect of their life feeling like… a trash bin.” Thomas’ face at that wasn’t encouraging, but he wasn’t finished explaining yet so the idea wasn’t a complete loss yet.

“And- and the waste keeps piling… and piling up… until it inevitably… spills out… into the rest of their life.” He smiled at Thomas expectantly, hoping he’d like the idea at least a little.

His face became deadpan though and just as Nico started to worry…

“You saw me knock over that trash can didn’t you?”

Oh, my… “That was you!?”

“We could’ve been his hero?” Félix whined.

“He would not have liked us seeing him like that. Imagine if it were the other way around?”

Félix shivered and nodded in understanding.

As it was the realization that Nico didn’t have a clue until now, and he’d had outed himself as ‘the trash man’ was clearly embarrassing enough on it’s own.

“OH- gosh… yes. Dang it!” he confessed as he hid his face behind his hands.

“Are you okay?” Nico asked earnestly though he couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice or face.

Thomas was laughing as well. “Nothing but a bruised ego,” he assured him.

Félix huffed. Nico knew that to him a bruised ego was a serious condition that should not be glossed over. But Nico kind of liked that Thomas was able to laugh at the situation already.

“Sorry if my song explanation… uh, hit a little too close to home.”

Thomas’ earnest smile melted his heart.

“No, it’s fine. It’s true! I do tend to… waste a lot of opportunities in my life.”

“Was that a pun?” Nico’s facets asked shocked.

“Well,” he smiled as he took the bag of carrots. “Let’s not waste this one,” he suggested.

Next chapter

Nico’s head and heart were buzzing with excitement the whole rest of the day when he came home he threw himself on the couch.

“AAAAAAAH!” Félix and Alejo screamed in jubilation.

“An actor and a singer?” Félix gushed.

“And he has good taste in music and in movies,” Alejo pointed out.

“He did a tour with his own musical! Is he even real?”

“How was he so modest about it?”

“Would it be okay to look him up?” the boisterous facet wondered, phone already in hand.

“Well, he said it was fine if we did… but maybe not right away?” the usually restrained man was vibrating with a mix of happy and scared nerves.

“I need a minute…” Nico sighed dreamily.

“Oh. Of course. We’ll be right here when you need us,” Félix assured him as he and Alejo retreated to the mind to tell the others all the details they might’ve missed.

#tssides #ts sides #sanders sides #spoilers #nico flores #karrot kings

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the-stray-liger · 3 years

Note

when your current art looks shitty compared to what you used to do that's when you know your getting better at it

ive got an old sketch on my wall from middle school of Typical Not Self-Insert Character In Cool Armor With Giant Sword. It's incredible. How did I do that. I can't draw like that now.

but I can SEE this old picture, despite the embarrassment around it's actual subject, is actually good. When I first hung it up way back when it was just because I wished I had a sword. Now I look at the confident lines, the shading, the grasp of depth perception on so many angular objects, the way the cloth of the cape falls in folds that have weight to them. I can recognize what makes it a nice drawing. I couldn't do that before.

there's this thing i read about once where people who are getting better at a skill go through this cycle of This Is Impossible to WOW I'M SO GREAT AT THIS to I Have Lost The Ability To Preform Even The Most Basic Part Of This And Should Fire Myself Forever

and then slowly they realize they can kinda do it again. Hey, they can even do that one thing they've never been able to do before!

rinse, recycle, repeat. Every year I go through it. Depression doesn't help. For a few years I didn't draw anything at all and almost burned all my old sketches. Now I'm doodling ducktale characters and making fat circular birds with twig legs.

I aged out of school and have never had a job (thank you family for not letting me starve) and my whole damn life people have been asking me why I don't sell my drawings.

because I can't draw, I tell them, staring at the things I made two years ago and couldn't replicate now if someone put gun to my head.

but sometimes, for a few months, I can. I can sit down and have an idea and make it happen. Sometimes the idea is a favorite character. Sometimes its just a random pattern of flowers. Every time it happens I'm scared it'll be the last time.

Then I remind myself of all the other people who go though some version of this stupid cycle. If you like drawing, you'll probably draw again someday- maybe not in the same style as you used to- but if it makes you happy you'll do it for the happy feelings, and if you draw you'll get better at it, and as you get better you'll learn to see all the flaws, and you'll get discouraged, and that's normal.

I also remind myself of how other people always seem to like the drawings I'm least happy with, and pass over the ones I'm actually proud of. People have different taste. Everyone else's sucks compared to mine, for example, which a completely true and unbiased fact (lol).

Right now I can draw because I never show any of my drawings to anyone. They're for me. Mine. And the voice in the back of my head chattering about wasting time and being a useless burden can go stuff itself.

Yesterday I drew a cartoon duck. It sucks. I had a lot of fun WHILE making it though. And the duck looks a lot better than it did when I first drew one a week ago. Practice makes progress. Talent is bullshit. Skills are learned and maintained.

so my advice is draw something badly and giggle while you do.

Hey anon! You're absolutely right. I remember back when I was drawing fulll time going thru a couple art blocks where everything I made looked awful bc I was learning to look at it with more critical eyes and my hands hadn't caught up yet. I feel like that's a big part of my burnout too-I suddenly learned a lot of theory and I had come to a point where I hadn't developped the skills to match and it destroyed a lot of my confidence and self esteem

It's also that at the end of the day I forgot who I was drawing for bc I was so obsessed with social media recognition and with algorithms and stuff the harder I worked the less notifications I got

And I generally have a HUGE problem with guilt and feeling like a burden too like I feel you 600% on that lol I always felt terrible bc I couldn't make a living out of my art

I think Im gonna work again on making art that's only for me and drawing things I enjoy even if it's not like the best quality or quantity. I'm gonna take it slow (even if it drives me up the wall) and have fun again!

Thank you so much for the kind word and advice!!

#self care tag

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caffernnn · 3 years

Note

fic idea: haru going away for a few weeks for a competition and makoto has been missing him so much but he sees him on tv really happy and decides to finally give up on his romantic feelings towards haru because /he'll never feel the same/. He accepts to date someone in his uni or something and when haru is back and finds out he goes APESHIT. Jealous!Haru is my favorite, what can i say

Okay now THIS could be a whole long fic (I think I’ve read a fic or two similar to this w/ Makoto trying to “move on”) but it hurts my heart too much to map out that angsty dialogue, so here are some loose ideas:

- Makoto loves his best friend and knows that a part of him always will, in some capacity. Loving Haru is a natural thing weaved so tightly into his identity that there are traces of their friendship in almost everything he does. It’s in the way he makes himself breakfast that doesn’t burn; it’s in the way he draws haphazard doodles alongside his college notes; it’s in the way he mentors kids at his job and reminds them how the water can be an accomplice in cultivating some of the greatest friendships they’ll ever have. He loves Haru, doesn’t regret holding him close over the years for even a second, and tries to convince himself that his daydreams of a new type of relationship with Haru aren’t all that important when he’s been lucky enough to have all of this. Makoto loves him enough to be so proud of Haru, his best friend who is utterly determined and belongs to a world beyond the small one they shared in Iwatobi. Haru’s happiness has always been enough for him, hasn’t it? It’s enough, and he can’t ask for more, even if there are some nights where the distance leaves his chest burning and his apartment too hollow.

- Haru’s back in town after a few long weeks of training camps leading into competitions. He’s excited to meet up with Makoto and have a lazy day together in his apartment. They’ve kept up with each other between scattered texts that became even more scarce in the last week or so. Haru hoped he was overthinking the shift in their communication — he wasn’t the best texter as it was, and maybe Makoto had been busy. They’d be fine once they could see each other again. His heart was coming home and he’d enjoy the peace before being whisked back into his demanding schedule.

- They reunite and things are both happy and familiar until Makoto mentions that his study group invited him to a mixer that night. He didn’t expect much to come of it really, but it wouldn’t hurt to put himself out there, right? Haru was struck by how the casual way Makoto stated his plans, like they were nothing at all, did not match up at all with the torrential storm of emotions swirling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t think he was possessive; he knew Makoto drew people in and he was happy that Makoto was comfortable enough to hang out and make friends between classes and his job. However, there was something about the way Makoto texted him less, the way he made plans to override their time together, and the way he did all of this and acted like nothing was different that had Haru feeling like he was being pushed away by the tide.

- Makoto meets up with Haru the next day and asks about Makoto’s night. He can’t help but notice how somebody’s been texting him all morning. Makoto reveals that one of the guys there was a year further into the same program Makoto was in and offered to meet up and help him study for some of the harder classes over lunch sometime. Haru was decidedly having none of that and some of his old insecurities flared about being left behind. He tries to not let his jealousy and heartache show because he knows it isn’t fair to assume anything, doesn’t even know what he’s assuming, hardly knows what he wants or what to do about it—

- but Makoto notices Haru becoming closed off because of course he does. He pushes for them to sit and try to talk through whatever’s going on because he only gets so much time with his best friend nowadays and doesn’t want to spend those fleeting moments hiding from each other. Haru doesn’t know the best way to put the mess in his head into words, but he feels starting out with “do you miss me when I’m not around” perhaps wasn’t it.

*insert painfully vulnerable conversation where Makoto tries to figure out what he was doing wrong to make Haru feel this way that somehow leads to Makoto fessing up how important Haru is to him in a borderline confession*

- Haru can see enough in Makoto’s waffling to realize there’s an extra layer to the way he says he cares because it resonates with his own pining to a T. He also senses a sad sort of resignation in the way Makoto looks at him, almost like him caring for Haru so much makes him a burden, and Haru realizes he’s going to have to be brave for the both of them to fix it. Haru tries to dig up the words for his own confession, reassuring Makoto that he wants him by his side and is loved something fierce. Makoto wants to accept it but is still so scared, wondering “if I said I was in love with you, would you still want me around” (Haru loses his marbles a bit and asks Makoto out as a response)

- BOOM they’re dating now and Makoto catches onto Haru’s jealousy when he brings the study date back up. Makoto meets with the guy at the library and if Haru introduces himself before doing his own work right alongside them, well...

#maybe should’ve just written the fic kfjfndjs #jealous!Haru can be fun sometimes #timeline for building up angst could’ve been more of a slow burn #but I just wanted to outline the juicier bits in the timeline #also couldn’t write Makoto on an actual date with someone else because I’m weak #sorry not sorry about that one #long post #makoharu #ask games #thanks for asking!!#anonymous #fic ideas

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imagine-that · 4 years

Text

“Mischief boy, you’ve met peter right?” You ask as you gesture to the boy in the red and black suit.

“I believe I have yes.” The god says, eyeing him a bit. “And my name is Loki remember?” He corrects with a small smirk in your direction before turning back towards Peter. You could tell peter was a little nervous but it was even easier to tell as he began to speak.

“Oh uh hi mr Loki sir. It’s good to meet you. I’m spider par- wait no. I’m Peter man-“ he stutters and you suppress a laugh, pulling him in for a side hug.

“Peter Parker buddy. We’ve talked about this.” You say and he nods, embarrassed.

Tony had put you in charge of showing Peter around since both him and Happy were busy and it seemed like an easy enough task until Thor asked if you minded showing Loki around as well. You had felt it rude to say no but you knew it would probably turn to a disaster.

You were always confident, arrogant even, like Tony which is what he liked about you and why you were so close but when you were around Loki every bone in your body melted and you became increasingly flustered against your better judgment. It frustrated you more than anything else ever had, so you decided showing him around might help you change that. So far, it surprisingly was.

“Ok so obviously we’re in stark tower, I’m sure you already knew that.” You begin as you guide them towards the elevator. Peter follows eagerly and Loki trails behind, obviously feeling this was unnecessary though his eyes remained on you the entire time, making you blush profusely.

“Are you alright y/n? You look a bit flushed.” He asks with a cheeky grin, clearly understanding the effect he was having on you.

As you’re about to quip back, Peter begins asking a bunch of questions and your focus is brought back to him, easily answering each one.

What you didn’t notice was Loki’s gaze remaining trained on you in fascination as you listed off facts about the building.

You’d helped oversee the plans with Pepper herself, causing you to know all there was to know about the tower and it’s contents. It was why you were perfect for the job of tours.

“And that concludes the tour.” You say with a shrug over an hour later. “I would ask if there were any other questions but I’m afraid I have a lot of work to catch up on so if you’ll excuse me gentlemen.” You say apologetically and you wave before turning and walking back to your own office.

———————————————

Loki watched you walk away curiously.

He didn’t know much about you but he had seen you with Thor a few times and when he’d tried to take over earth. Even then, when he’d been occupied with ruling the entire world, he’d found himself almost unable to look away from you. Thor often teased him for staring too long and he hated that his brother had something to hold over his head like that.

He was so mesmerized he hardly noticed Peter awkwardly trying to get his attention.

“Uh mr Loki sir? Are you ok?” He asks and finally Loki turns to him, cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment, a rare sight from the god.

He quickly regains his usual composure and smirks. “I am perfectly fine spider child.” He replies and Peter groans.

“It’s uh... it’s actually spider man.” He corrects but Loki waves him off and walks away to find his brother, already beginning to question his choice in people to confide in.

———————————————————

A few weeks later...

Loki had grown aggravated. Everywhere he turned, he could hear you laughing with a fellow avenger or see you sitting peacefully by the window doing your unfinished work. He was enchanted by you and it left him even more unhinged than usual.

Today was no different. He left his room and came to the living room to read, only to find you squealing happily as you and Peter were running around the room away from an annoyed looking Bucky with black doodles scribbled messily on his face.

He tried to ignore it, walking in confident strides towards the couch but froze as he felt your hands on his torso, the rest of your figure ducking behind him.

“Hide me reindeer games, we drew on Bucky while he was napping and now he’s really mad!” You plead, still in a fit of giggles. He remains speechless for a few moments, unsure what to say.

Before he can finally speak, Bucky runs up and grabs you by the waist, playfully tackling you onto the couch and tickling you as his revenge. With your head back, you see Peter on the ceiling, hiding and making you laugh even more.

Seeing Bucky be the cause of your beautiful laugh made Loki’s lip twitch in annoyance and jealousy. He knew you weren’t his but he wished you were.

Tuning the sound of your squabbling out, he sat down on one of the stools by the bar with Thor and rolled his eyes at the sight of his brothers teasing smile.

“Trouble with a certain someone brother?” He asked innocently and Loki pursed his lips together.

“I do not have the slightest clue to what you are referring.” He muttered, not meeting his brothers eyes and instead stealing another glance at you.

Thor chuckled at his brothers denial. “Of course not. That is why you are gazing at y/n with such intensity I am sure.” He commented sarcastically in a lowered voice. Loki immediately looked at him in alarm but quickly regained his unphased persona.

“Yes I find y/n quite attractive. And yes I possibly enjoy her company more than I do others. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He asks with his usual smirk.

“Only quite attractive? I could have sworn you were practically smitten only a week or so ago...” Thor teases further and Loki’s face contorts in frustration as a blush rises in his cheeks.

“I am not at all smitten with y/n. Merely fascinated by Midgardians. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He hissed defensively as he stormed off back to his room, growing more embarrassed and enraged by the sound of his brothers deep laughter floating in the air behind him.

Neither brother, however, had noticed the boy in the spidersuit hanging above them, accidentally hearing the whole thing.

———————————————————

The next day...

“Hey Peter. You’re trailing me around the tower today for something for school right?” You ask as you walk into the kitchen that morning.

He jumps, clearly startled and looks up at you, his face blushing more than usual.

“Y-Yeah I uh... I am.” He mumbles quietly and you raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“Are you ok kid? You seem... off.” You ask cautiously and he responds with a nervous laugh.

“Totally. I’m uh... I’m not off at all. In fact I’m on!” He rambles and you march up to him, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Kid what’s wrong?” You demand and he refuses to look you in the eyes. “Is it that flash kid? Because I’ll teach him a lesson if you need.” You say, voicing your concern. He rapidly shakes his head and you sigh.

“Peter Parker you tell me what’s wrong right this minute or I swear to god-“ you start as Tony walks in and gives you a confused look.

“Y/n, why you gotta threaten the kid? Spider boy what’d you do?” He asks, looking between the two of you.

“I did nothing mr stark!” Peter says quickly. Tony turns his expecting gaze back to you.

“He’s hiding something from me.” You say, crossing your arms.

Tony scoffs, quickly looking between the two of you again. “Sounds like something you two can figure out on your own.” He says, stepping around you into the kitchen and grabbing his own food.

You turn a serious glare to Peter and he groans. “Fine! I was hanging from the ceiling hiding from mr Barnes and I-I overheard Thor and mr Loki’s conversation, not that I was eavesdropping!” He begins rambling and you sigh.

“Peter. Point please.” You ask and he smiles guiltily at you.

“Ok ok. Well I overheard them talking about m-miss y/n... and mr Loki admitted to liking you.” He blurts out. You blink at him in surprise, caught really off guard.

Tony bursts out laughing from behind you and you spin around, pointing a threatening finger at him. “Not a word Stark.” You warn but he’s too busy still laughing.

“Reindeer games took a liking to you!” He teases, his voice still booming with laughter.

“I said not a word!” You sigh, running a hand through your hair.

Natasha enters and looks between the three of you, finally settling on your stressed expression.

“What’d he do?” She asks you, gesturing towards Tony though he’s still too busy cackling to notice.

You sigh, debating whether or not to tell her.

“He’s laughing because Peter told us Loki likes me.” You say finally. Her face remains neutral as ever but she swiftly kicks Tony in the calve.

“Did you guys not know that?” She asks, clearly amused by the whole situation.

“No! You did?” You shout in confusion.

“Yeah I thought it was pretty obvious?” She questions.

With a heavy sigh, you walk off to your room, completely forgetting your job to help Peter.

Not watching where you’re going, you collide into something. Or someone, as you realize when two hands reach out to grab your shoulders to keep you steady from falling.

“Are you alright?” He asks and you feel your muscles tense as you hear the familiar accent.

“Yeah yeah I’m fine.” You dismiss halfheartedly, your face burning from the probably really apparent blush rushing to your cheeks. “Oh sorry! Are you ok? I kind of bumped into you, I should be the one asking.” You realize a second later. He grins a little and you feel your heart miss a beat.

“I um... I am fine as well. Thank you.” He responds, clearly also having forgotten to speak.

“So I um... I heard a rumour about you.” You say, gauging his reaction.

“Oh? And what might this rumour be saying about me mortal?” He asks, an eyebrow raised in amusement. You roll your eyes at the nickname he’d quickly learned you hated.

“Well I’m not quite sure if it’s a rumour. I mean it came from someone who heard it directly from your lips so.” You ramble and you feel him moving closer to you, leaving barely a gap between your bodies.

He gently pushes your chin up with his index finger, forcing you to look at him in the eyes and sending shivers down your spine at his touch in the process.

“What was this rumour or not rumour about?” He repeats quietly.

You gulp nervously and look into his grey blue eyes.

“I may have heard that you... that you take a certain liking to me.” You say quickly, your words close to jumbling together. From the burning red on Loki’s ears though, you can tell he heard you perfectly.

“That is... that is...” he begins, trying to find the proper wording to use.

You watch him hopefully, wondering what he could possibly respond to the accusation with.

“That is actually correct.” He says finally, nodding his head with a sigh and your eyes go wide.

“It is?” You question and he nods, refusing to meet your gaze. “Because well... I kind of feel the same way?” You add.

“Do you truly?” He asks, uncertainty filling his voice.

“I do yes.” You say, your lips spreading into an embarrassed smile.

He chuckles a bit and you raise an eyebrow.

“Your smile. It is quite beautiful I must say.” He admits, a blush you found adorable creeping into his face.

Without a second of hesitation, you grab him by the face, standing on your toes and lean in for a kiss. For a moment, it’s delicate and sweet but soon, it grows frantic and passionate, him pushing you against the wall carefully to balance you both to prevent from falling. Your lips remain pressed together agressively for a few more moments before you both pull away.

Loki looks at you, stunned.

“That was...” he begins and you bite your swollen lip, smiling sheepishly.

“I believe I will have to thank that spider boy later.” He says with a laugh and you giggle.

“Sweet! Who would’ve thought eavesdropping would get you thanked?!” A happy voice says from above you. You look up to see Peter hanging in his webs, watching the scene unfold below him.

Though you want to be annoyed, all you can do is grin and laugh at his antics.

You continue laughing, Loki joining in while Peter gets himself down, planting his feet onto solid ground faster than you thought he’d be able to.

You cling to Loki’s side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

“So does that make me the reason you two are together then miss y/n?” Peter questions and you laugh at the nerves in his voice.

“Yes, yes it does. And thank goodness for that.” You smile up at Loki as you speak.

The three of you walk back towards the living room and you stay by Loki’s side, never wanting to let go to the man beside you.

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kyoka-jirou · 4 years

Note

HELLO HI HOW ARE YOU. Soo I heard soulmate au; can we have a tamakixreader where reader has had bad soulmate experiences (parents didnt work out) and is insecure and avoids the situation? Bonus points for Tamaki being insecure and wondering if it's because he's not good enough.

The ANGST IS REAAALLLL! ; - ; this is just so cute and pure it’s not even- like what o-o

note: your dad is aged-up Hawks now. you’re welcome.

Tamaki Amajiki X Reader | Doodles

soulmate au in which whatever your draw on yourself also appears on your soulmate.

(Warnings: Parents that fight, insecurity, self doubt, extreme verbal abuse, lANGuAgE)

They were fighting again. You could hear it from downstairs.

“You can’t just come home drunk every night!” your dad shouted.

“I told you, I was just at the office late tonight! I wasn’t- I’m not drunk!” you heard your mom slur. Even though her words were steady, you could hear her tripping over her own feet.

“I can’t do this anymore, Belle! Y/N cries herself to sleep half the time because of you!”

“Y/N is just a wimpy little whore! She can’t even talk without that damn stutter!”

“She only stutters when she’s talking to you!” your dad shouted, “You’ve made her so scared of you she can’t even look you in the eye!”

You let a small tear fall down your cheek before turning the music in your headphones up. It seems like the only thing that could keep you calm was music. Whether it’d be Garth Brooks, Jared Halley, or (favorite artist), you somehow found comfort on nights like these.

‘Hey, you up?’ you scribbled on your arm.

Thirty seconds later, there was a response.

‘Of course I am. Is it happening again?’

You sighed. He always knew what was going on.

‘Yea. Trying to drown it out though.’

‘That’s good. Where are you going for your third year of high school? I remember you said you were transferring...’

You sighed, remembering that you were starting school tomorrow. A full two weeks into the school year.

‘Yueei High. How about you?’

‘Yueei? Wow. That’s pretty cool.’

‘I guess. It wasn’t my choice though. I feel pressured into it, my dad being the freaking number two hero.’

‘Wait a second- what?’

You gasped, forgetting you’d barely mentioned anything about yourself besides the fighting. Capping your pen. You curled up on your bed, letting out a sob.

Your snow white wings curled around you, and the halo of hope that you felt in your hidden identity shattered, as you cried yourself to sleep.

----------

“Mirio I messed up.” he said as soon as his friend picked up the phone.

Around fifteen seconds later, a naked teenager barreled through his wall. Tamaki stifled a scream and he covered his eyes.

“You keep forgetting that we live in dorms Tamaki, just come on over and knock!” he smiled.

“M-Mirio, p-please put some c-clothes on.”

“Oh, right. Sorry about that.” he said blankly, going back to his room. A few minutes later a knock sounded on his door and Tamaki got up and opened it.

Outside stood Mirio and.. Nejire.

He shook his head, of course Mirio called her over. They were practically attached at the hip ever since they found out they were soulmates. It would have made him feel like a third wheel, but he was too involved in their friendship to be let go like that.

He motioned for them to come in, and then he explained the situation.

“Well,” Nejire trailed off. “She obviously doesn’t know you’ll be here. So we could surprise her tomorrow. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you.”

Mirio nodded, “That could work! And, we could all be best friends!”

Tamaki shrunk back, “But what if she doesn’t like the attention?”

“It’ll be fine!” Nejire smiled, “She’ll feel welcomed in no time!”

----

It was Monday.

You had hesitantly gotten up to your alarm at around five-thirty, and had taken a quick hot shower. As soon as you’d gotten dressed and your hair & wings dried, you looked at the clock. It was now six-thirty.

You headed downstairs, being mindful of the shattered vase on the ground. Sliding over to the kitchen in your sock-clad feet, you opened the fridge to find a small bento and a note.

‘hey little fledgling, I made you some lunch- don’t forget that you have a meeting with principal nezu at eight. love you! - the overgrown chicken <3’

You smiled softly at your father’s antics, and you put the small bento in your saddle bag, along with a few one-subject notebooks and a pencil case.

Filling up your water bottle, you clipped it onto the side of your bag and slipped on your shoes. Patting the side pocket, you made sure your phone and wallet were in there, before heading out.

You didn’t live very far from the school, but you still wanted to get out of your house early, before the rush of kids trying to get to school came out. You didn’t like it when they stared at your wings. It made you feel uncomfortable.

Sighing, you trudged along the sidewalk, littered with old pieces of gum and trash. Quickening your pace, you managed to get to school at around seven-fifteen.

Taking a breath, you entered the gates and pulled up the schedule and map of the school that your dad had sent you earlier. Taking a few more cautious steps forward, you made your way up the steps to your locker.

---

“Hello!” a small white mouse thing shouted, looking at you. “You must be Y/N Takami!”

You nodded your head slightly, “That’s me.”

“Great!” he smiled, taking a look at your obviously nervous form, before starting the meeting.

He ended up giving you a tour, since you were pretty early, and explained how the hero course would work.

“I understand that your father has taught you about hero-work for the past few years, correct?”

You nodded, “Yes, that’s true.”

He grinned, “I take it you’re very well acquainted with the rules of hero-work then.”

You nodded again, “Yes sir, I am. I have even already received my provisional licensing exam.”

He hummed, already expecting as much. “Well then, Takami-san. Here is your classroom. Do you need anything else before we go inside?”

You stiffened, not quite realizing that you’d already made your way to your class.

“N-No, not of the moment. But thank you.” you stammered.

“Ok then!” he smiled, opening the door, and leading you inside.

You took a shaky breath before following him in, your wings stiffened.

“Hello!” Nezu started, “A new student has transferred into your class, please introduce yourself.”

You faced the front of the class with the most false courage you could muster.

“H-Hi, I-I’m Y/N Takami, p-please take care of me!” you bowed swiftly.

“Woah! You have wings!”

“That’s so cool!”

“She’s cute, too!”

“Yess! Another girl!”

You smiled politely at the compliments as you made your way to the back of the classroom, waving Nezu goodbye.

“Well!” your teacher said, “Why don’t you all take this period to introduce yourselves!”

The students cheered before you were met face-to-face with a guy who looked a bit like tin-tin.

“Eep!” you screamed slightly, startled.

“Mirio!” a blue haired girl yelled, “What did we talk about! Don’t scare her off!”

She sighed, before taking your hand, “Hi, I’m Nejire Hado, just call me Nejire.”

“Y-Y/N Takami, but y-you already knew that. Just call me Y/N.”

“Okey dokey, Y/N!” she smiled. “So! What do you like to do in your spare time?”

You and Nejire chatted away as the rest of the class just fell into a steady murmur. But, as you glanced around, you couldn’t help but notice the guy sitting a few rows from you, who was stressfully talking to the other guy from earlier.

Huh. Weird.

----

“Y/N! Y/N! Come eat lunch with us!” Nejire shouted from across the room. You froze before nodding slightly, feeling like a deer in headlights.

Packing up your bag, you looked at the small red flower you drew on your hand during class. It wasn’t much, but looking at it helped you calm down.

Slowly, you followed a chipper Nejire down the hall, noting the two boys following you as well.

When you all had finally found an empty table in the cafeteria, you sat down and began to eat.

“So, Y/N-” the tin-tin look-alike, who you knew as Mirio, started, “Have you found your soulmate yet?”

You, Nejire, and the shy boy you were introduced to, Tamaki, choked on your food.

“Mirio!”

“Y-you c-can’t j-just ask t-that!”

You giggled slightly at their antics, the question settling deep into your mind. What do you say?

“No.” you sighed, “I haven’t met him yet.”

The table was silent as you began to eat again, the tension thick.

Finally not being able to take it, you sighed looking up, “Is there something wrong with-”

Your breath caught in your throat.

On Tamaki’s hand, was the very flower you drew in class that day.

They seemed to notice your tense stature as they one-by-one began to follow your gaze.

“-oh.”

“Surprise?”

Your eyes widened as you realized that in fact, your soulmate was sitting right in front of you. This was it.

As your mind processed your feelings, you were reminded of last night, and how everyone at this table might know about your situation. Memories rushed through your head; the fighting, the drinking, the words, abuse, everything.

It all came back to you in a rush as panic started to seep in.

“I, u-um.” you started, trailing off, “I’ve gotta go.”

Turning quickly, you hurried out of the cafeteria, tears slipping past your eyes.

“H-hey, wait!” you heard, but it didn’t stop you. You just kept running.

Suddenly you found yourself under a water fountain, hyperventilating.

What felt like hours later, you heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Soon enough, you were wrapped into unfamiliar, yet comforting arms.

“H-hey, hey. It’s alright. Nothing’s gonna hurt you here, ok?” you heard someone whisper into your ear.

“I’ll go grab Recovery girl.”

“Ok, I’ll go inform sensei.”

You heard other voices, but you slowly drowned them out and listened to the one who was beside you. They rubbed soft circles on your back as your breathing slowly calmed down.

“Are you alright?” They asked, and you finally opened your eyes.

It was Tamaki.

“I-I’m so sorry!” you cried, “I couldn’t stop thinking about-”

“It’s ok-” Tamaki cut in, “Y-you’ll be okay. We can sort this out.”

You let a few more tears out as your breathing slowed. You felt your eyes close as your last thought flew through your mind.

‘Maybe- this’ll be alright.’

Bonus:

“I hereby give full custody of Y/N M/N Takami to Takami Keigo.”

A loud slam was heard before you broke out into tears, hugging your soulmate and your father close, one of which was being very stiff and awkward at the sudden contact.

‘Yeah, this’ll definitely be alright.’

Hope you enjoyed!

-alice <3

5.12.20

#tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki x reader #bnha #bnha soulmate au #soulmate au x reader #my hero academia #nejire hadou #mirio togata

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katelynn-a-fan · 4 years

Note

Fake title: Paint the sky

(I’m starting these up again cause I still have handful and it’s been... many months)

Okay so this is a wings au, where everyone is born with wings.

Except, Virgil’s came out... wrong, one of his wings grew wrong so he was grounded from day 1

So as he grew up, he was bullied for his defective wing, but one day in freshman year someone fought back for him when they kicked Virgil down.

Virgil was wincing from the pain a bit before he was able to see who rescued him and when he did see who, he nearly had a heart attack as he saw strong jet black wings surrounding him protectively.

It was one of the relatively popular kids, who all had strong wings and could fly faster than most of the other students.

“Hey, are you satisfactory?” “Why do you care?” “Because I’m not an asshole like them, just because I hold a popular position does not preclude me from knowing it’s wrong to bully others.” “...Touché.”

Virgil was Gay, the boy was smart and had a nice smile and was against the other popular kids and had big strong wings...

Big.... strong... wings...

Virgil didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t even know how it happened, but he somehow was eating lunch with the popular kids, but mostly Logan, the boy who rescued him.

He felt awkward sitting with the people he knew looked down on him because of his wings, but he grinned and bared it for Logan’s sake.

Virgil noticed that slowly everyone around Virgil even in normal class began to look at him weirdly. He of course suspected one or all of the popular kids, but he didn’t have proof.

It wasn’t until junior year, almost 3 years of grinning and baring it that the popular kids asked Logan why he hung out with a ‘defective.’

Logan surprised Virgil by snapping, he whipped around, pulling the kid up by his collar and growling at him to ‘say that again, Brad?’ The kid, full of bravado, repeated the question, but Logan brought Brad’s face up, millimeters from his face, making his intentions clear, expression dark and terrifying even to Virgil, who had never seen him more than frown, and slowly repeated himself one last time.

“Say that again?” “....nothing! I said nothing!” Brad’s voice was uncharacteristically high.

Virgil finally was able to relax, no having to worry about Logan going to detention for a fight, when Brad suddenly swung at Logan as he turned away.

Logan retaliated in kind, fighting back ruthlessly. Virgil froze as he watched them both fight each other, unable to move to stop Logan.

It wasn’t until the school resource officer pulled them apart that the fighting stopped and Virgil still stayed frozen as his best friend was taken away. He did nothing, and it was because of him that Logan was in trouble.

That night he got a call from Logan, and he was so concerned for Logan, but he felt as if his body wasn’t his own as he spoke stiltedly, knowing Logan could tell something was wrong.

Virgil told him he couldn’t be his friend anymore, steadying his voice as much as he could to say he hate Logan, even as tears streamed down his face as he did.

He avoids Logan as much as he can, managing to avoid him enough that the only time they are in the same room together is at graduation.

Virgil pretends not to notice Logan’s gaze fixed on him when he is in sight.

And as Virgil goes to college, part of him is happy that Logan can live his life without Virgil’s weak and defective wings.

And yet...

His parents did everything to try to coax Virgil’s wings into flight condition, trying surgery to correct the wing just before 18, though Virgil had resigned himself that he would never fly a long time ago.

The surgery succeeds... mostly.

Virgil can fly now, but it’s on a time limit, anything past an hour or two takes his wings out of commission for a week or more, but his exercises of hovering every so often have proved his wings are getting stronger.

But just like before, Virgil didn’t let that stop him.

He was interested in chemical engineering through college, but once he got out, it didn’t satisfy him, he barely managed a year before he quit.

It was in that lull, not knowing his future that he found one of his first drawings he ever made, tucked away.

It was of him flying high in the sky with perfect and big wings.

Virgil smiled at the grand imagination of his youth, that if his wings were whole, he would know his purpose.

His wings still weren’t whole, but as he looked at the drawing, he remembered.

Every time he drew himself in a doodle, he always drew himself in the sky, something he hadn’t been able to do for the longest time.

But he realized... it wasn’t because he wanted to fly, at least not completely, as he had done the same on his last paycheck receipt the week before.

It was the sky. He was fascinated with the sky itself.

And so it began.

Virgil had never really taken an art class before, but he went at it with all he had.

He desperately bought a set of paint, an easel and a canvas with the dwindling number in his bank account.

Virgil chose that afternoon to start painting. starting with the blue sky before the sun began to set and Virgil’s painting began to fade into more orange, yellows, and reds. By the time evening came and the sun had gone below the horizon, the painting had been finished, the reds fading into purples and blacks.

It was only then that Virgil stepped back, not turning on the light to see his work before he crashed on his bed.

He woke up to the sounds of his boisterous friend Roman calling him.

Roman talked a mile a minute, Virgil barely able to tell what Roman was talking about until he finally heard the word ‘painting.’

Virgil turned red, he had forgotten about his painting in the living room.

“You like it?” “Do I like it? Well, it would be hard to disagree with the almost a million people who have already seen it.”

Virgil’s brain malfunctioned.

“What?”

Roman showed him his phone, where a picture of his painting had been posted on Virgil’s Instagram among his few previous pictures, most were of his halloween costumes that got a few hundred to over thousand on his vampire halloween costume.

“YOU POSTED MY PAINTING ON MY INSTAGRAM! WHY DO YOU HAVE MY PASSWORD!” “Whoa chill, you haven’t changed your password in 3 years, dipshit. Did- you even hear me? You have almost a million likes on the painting. I like the eyes.”

Virgil’s fist stopped where he had been about to punch Roman’s arm.

“A million? How?! Wait... eyes?”

Roman looked at Virgil weird.

“Yeah, the obvious eyes in the painting.”

Virgil snatched Roman’s phone, getting a closer look at his own painting, just now seeing the very obvious green eyes in the painting, as well as the more subtle outline of a very distinct set of wings that Virgil knew well.

A number of miles away, Logan checked his very rarely populated Instagram feed while he drank his morning coffee.

However, today he decided his home needed some as well as it was projected out as Logan spat out the mouthful of coffee he had been drinking, mouth open as he saw his own green eyes and his specific set of wings in a painting on Virgil’s profile.

The number didn’t even matter, it barely registered, but a smile spread on Logan’s face as he realized Virgil didn’t hate him as much as Logan thought he did.

After all, you don’t pain someone you hate into something so beautiful.

So Logan finally scrolled down to Virgil’s contact for the first time in years after so many times to reach him.

He pressed call.

#fake title #fake title ask #fake title asks #paint the sky #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #analogical #virgil angst #supnerds

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sunnomnoms · 5 years

Note

Hi!! I wanted to request an scenario where the reader is a teacher in UA and is also good friends since their school years with Aizawa and Hizashi. She finds her old notes with some doodles and brings it to work so she could revive some memories with her friends. What she didn't remember is that she used to write Aizawa's name in her notebook with hearts around it... Kind of thing.... Thank you in advance ❤️❤️💖💖

AYYYY AN AIZAWA REQUEST yesyesyesyes this is so cute I love this. I hope I wrote him to your liking!! Also I am super sorry for the long wait! I had an unannounced hiatus and everytime I went to write this scenario Tumblr deleted it!!! >:,( but here it is!!

“It’s been years since I’ve seen one of these things!!” You squealed happily as you flipped through the pages.

“We were probably, what, second years back when I used this? God, that felt like centuries ago!”

You had found an old note book of yours that you used to use all the time in high school. You were a teacher now at UA, alongside your high school best friends, Shota and Hizashi. The three of you were often around each other along with other friends you had had. Though it felt so long ago, it’s as if you could remember that chapter of your life clearly...

“When do you plan to tell him?” Hizashi whispered teasingly at you as he peaked over your shoulder. You squeaked, pulling your notebook to your chest as a deep blush crept onto your face.

“C-can you not?? jeez Hizashi!” you whisper-yelled at him, to which he only laughed. The racket you two had caused caught a certain someone’s attention.

“What are you two doing?” Shota asked, turning around in his seat to face the two of you. He placed an elbow on your desk, propping his head on it. The teacher wasn’t in class yet so some students chatted away, it wasn’t a crime for you three to do the same.

Shota shifted his gaze to you, your slightly pink cheeks catching his attention.

“H-he’s flirting again, you know how he is.” You lied through your teeth, holding your notebook to your face to try and cover your blush. Hizashi laughed at the remark, adding a “yeah, okay.” Shota sighed, humming a little as to say “ah, of course” before he let out a small yawn.

“I’m gonna nap. Wake me up when sensei gets here.” He said groggily as he rested his head in his arms on your desk. Before you could even respond, he was fast asleep on your desk. pulling down your notebook a tad, you revealed the heart filled smile you had towards his sleeping form. Hizashi has made some teasing comments here and there, but you hadn’t paid much mind.

It was true, you had a crush on Shota back then. To say your attraction towards him disappeared would be a lie, but the two of you were professionals now, and there was no room for fluffy feelings like that. While occasionally you wished for such a romance between the two of you, you always shook the thoughts away. Shota was your coworker, as well as just your friend.

With that said, you made sure to try and avoid bringing one of your notebooks that had love poems and confessions in them. You had a bad habit of day dreaming back then, and when you’re a teenager, you can imagine what kind of things you day dreamed about.

“You used to draw that little thing on all of my papers, I couldn’t escape it.” Shota said, pointing to a familiar, simple cat doodle you often did. You laughed, flipping a few pages to see the same doodle reappear several times. He chuckled softly as well.

“Oh! And here’s that freaking S!” Hizashi said, pointing to the infamous ‘S’ symbol probably all teenagers drew at one part of their life. “That thing haunts me!! I have no idea what it is or where it came from!!” Hizashi exclaimed over dramatically, earning another laugh from you. “I’m pretty sure everyone drew it.” You added.

The three of you sort of huddled around, reminiscing on old notes and doodles you all once did. Most of them were done by you, but some pages were filled with doodles done by all of you. Hizashi’s doodles usually contained random things, even memes at the time. Shota seemed to write small notes that usually were filled with sarcasm, and would occasionally draw little cats. Your doodles were always all over the place, from things like skulls to bunnies, or sharks and flowers. If hero work wouldn’t have worked so well in your favor, perhaps you would have been an artist. Who knows?

The time came when your off period was up, and the three of you had to go back to class and teach. You had left your notebook in the lobby, expecting to take it home with you when you left.

Unfortunately, you were a bit of a clutz that day, and had started to run late for your train.

“Ah, I’ll talk to you all tomorrow!!! My train is about to be here in ten minutes and it’s usually a fifteen minute walk, I gotta run!!” You called in a panic as you dashed out of the school.

“W-Wait, I could-” Shota called out to you, before stopping himself.

“... just give you a ride...” he sighed as he watched you scurry off without a second thought. He had to stay back for a half an hour anyway to file some paperwork, he would have had no issue bringing you home. But you were quick on your feet, and already too far and too determined to catch that train.

Aizawa laughed softly. You were always like this it seemed. You weren’t an idiot, no, but... an airhead? Sure. You often were oblivious to things going on it seemed. Not to mention how forgetful you could be.

On the topic of your forgetfulness, it seems you had yet again left something at work.

Shota looked over at you desk, noticing the notebook you seemed to have left behind while dashing off for your train. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, Shota was basically expecting it at this point. He let out another sigh, picking up the notebook. Upon noticing it was your old notebook from highschool, he opened it up to relive a few memories before getting back to filing papers. It was the same nostalgic things he had seen earlier, some things he didn’t remember, some things he remembered all too well. A small smile played on his lips as he flipped through the pages.

“What are you doing?” Shota inquired as he watched you scribble in your notebook.

“Nothing!! You can’t see yet!!” You giggled as you continued to intently sketch away.

Shota wouldn’t dare say it out loud, but he couldn’t help but find you cute like this. Maybe it was the way your hair fell in your face as you worked, maybe it was the little smile on your face, he couldn’t put his finger one what exactly caught his eye about the familiar sight. And yet, any time you did your little sketches, he’d sneak glances. Not at your notebook, but at you. You were just so cute when you were determined.

“Okay, I’m done. Lookie!” You said, placing your book on the desk for him to see. Shota blinked a few times before he realized what he was looking at. “It’s you!” You giggled.

It was a sketch of a cat, a black one, with the binding cloth around its neck. Shota felt a small smile pull on his lips as he looked at it.

“It’s so cute..” Shota muttered, before realizing what he had said. He looked up to you, expecting some sort of weirded out expression, but instead was met by your flustered expression.

“It’s just a doodle, it isn’t that cute! Haha!” You said sheepishly, waving him off.

As far back as Shota could remember knowing you, he had always recognized you as a strong girl. And yet, when you weren’t busy kicking ass, you found the time to be cute and endearing. Perhaps it was the duality you had that attracted him so much. But with how things have been recently with hero work and teaching, he doubted now was the right time to act on any sort of feelings. Shota couldn’t risk ruining the healthy work relationship the two of you had.

Shota flipped through a few more pages, and was ready to leave his reminiscing session there, until his eyes caught his name in one of the pages he passed. Blinking a few times, he flipped back a few pages, and scanned the page for his name. It didn’t take much scanning at all though. He felt his heart stop.

Not only did he find his name surrounded by hearts, but he found entire heartfelt notes. Little notes about the little details you noticed and loved, notes about how much you loved his long hair, notes about how you adored his love for cats, notes about how you admired his hard work on mastering the binding cloth...

Shota hadn’t felt his heart swell like that in years. It hurt almost, he even almost let out an audible swoon. Sitting down at his desk, he tried to process what he was reading. How many other Shota’s did they go to school with at the time? Was it really him she was talking about?

It had to be. Who else could it be?

Shota closed the notebook and sat back in his chair. His heart pounded against his chest, his head swarmed him with thoughts on what to do now that he had this information. He wanted to just kiss you, call you stupid for not saying anything for long, telling you he felt the same and still does. But that begs the question, do you still feel that way? The idea of your feelings fading away all these years later made his breath hitch. It was totally possible. You were teenagers, what if it was just a little phase? Something you were in and out of within a week?

Shota sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon, settling for an idea he had. He’d come over to your apartment to drop it off, and he’d ask you about it then, right? Surely that was a fool-proof plan, right?

“What am I, 16?” Shota mocked himself out loud. He was acting like a nervous teenager again. Why?

Packing up and calling it a day (despite not filing a single paper...), Shota set off towards his car.

He held a hope in his heart that things haven’t changed too much from when you two were teenagers.

#shouta aizawa x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha requests #bnha requests #mha imagines #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #ryu bnha tag

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kingreywrites · 4 years

Text

Golden Strings

Fandom: Tangled

Words count: 2684

New Dream Appreciation Week Day One: Sun and Moon

Summary: If he hadn't been in love before - and he had been - he would have certainly fallen for her all over again that night, when the light of the moon made her smile so much brighter.

Read on ao3

Note: Happy birthday to @tangledbea , @theofficialkai517 , @alrightginger and @tangledaddict !! (and to me :P) It’s quite a day for the tangled fandom, between the start of the NDAW and all of those birthdays <3

@our-newdream

Eugene woke up feeling like death warmed over. His head was smushed against the side of an armchair, he knew he was in for a mean crick in his neck, and he was pretty sure he had been drooling in his sleep - despite his dashing good looks, that was never a beautiful sight. Cracking one eye open, his only hope that no one had seen him like this disappeared as soon as he noticed the note someone had placed on the table in front of him. Rapunzel, to be precise - he could recognize her handwriting and her doodles anywhere.

Ah, and someone had tucked a blanket around him and had taken the time to bookmark the page he had fallen asleep reading. Definitely Rapunzel, Eugene thought with a smile, still exhausted after his untimely nap in the library. He summoned all the bravery he had and finally stretched, thus feeling the full extent of his bad decision. Living in a castle had ruined him - he wasn't made for sleeping in armchairs anymore.

Although, when he first arrived here, he remembered spending a lot of time in the library to calm down when he felt lost. It had been a weird time, for Rapunzel mostly, who was only discovering life after eighteen years - but it had been weird for him too. Communication didn't come easy for him and, even if he made efforts to be honest with her, he had often sought the comfort of the library - there, alone with his thoughts, Eugene felt like he could breathe.

That was, until Rapunzel discovered about it - until he realised that for this to work, they both needed to be open with each other. They had talked a long time that night, about their new lives, their fears, their boundaries, and stuff in general, and that was when Eugene realized that being alone wasn't the way he could finally breathe. Being alone helped him be calmer - being with Rapunzel gave him a peace and an happiness he had never achieved before.

If he hadn't been in love before - and he had been - he would have certainly fallen for her all over again that night, when the light of the moon made her smile so much brighter. He knew he was the first one to compare her to the sun, not only because of the pun but, above all, because she made his life brighter and warmer; however, Rapunzel was more than that. She wasn't just his sun, she was his whole universe - the sun, the moon, the stars and the planets, but also the darkness in between, which made everything more vivid and alive. And he wanted to be there with her, for the good and the bad, the light and the dark. He knew she wanted the same - the good, the bad, and even the drooling.

Eugene scrubbed his eyes blearily, noticing that the sun wasn't even set quite yet. He had been reading some old book about laws for his Captain duties, but had clearly lost that battle. When he straightened up, he took care of folding the blanket that Rapunzel had put over him - it smelled like her, and he knew she kept it in her bedroom, so she must have seen him, gone all the way up to her closet just to keep him warm. And warm he felt, he smiled, love blooming in his chest in a familiar way. The first thing he saw on the note she had left was a doodle of him sleeping quite unattractively, which drew a groan from him - and a grin, but he wouldn't admit it, instead starting to read.

Hi Eugene!

I wasn't sure if you wanted to be woken up but you looked so tired and so cute that I didn't have the heart to do it!

I love you!

Rapunzel

He folded the paper too, carefully putting it in his pocket - he could never throw them away. His neck was still protesting loudly the position it had been in, so Eugene stretched once again, yawning. He never took naps because he thought they were scam, since you often woke up more tired than before, but he had apparently been more exhausted than he realised. Thankfully, he hadn't been expected anywhere, and if he was lucky, only Rapunzel had seen him. The other guards wouldn't let him live it down otherwise, Captain or not. Blanket in hand, he decided to go put it back in Rapunzel's room so he could then try to find her - and he hoped it would be before she had doodled his drooling face somewhere everyone could see. He had a reputation to maintain.

The trek to her room was quick, and he thought it would be an in and out trip to put the blanket back where it belonged, but when he opened the door, he immediately saw Rapunzel painting high up on her ceiling. Thanks to Varian, she had now a complex pulley system to get to the higher spots of her room, and the kid had even added an automatic safety net that could deploy if Rapunzel fell - a suggestion that Eugene made and that he was forever grateful to Varian for.

Rapunzel hadn't heard him open the door, too focused on her painting and, even from down there, Eugene could see her poke a tongue out in concentration. He could feel himself melt at the sight, because he knew he had the cutest wife in the world - and he would never hesitate to brag about it. Then, he saw what she was currently painting, and felt affection swell in his heart.

It was them, sitting together on her windowsill. But, what touched him the most was how much care she had put into painting him specifically - his hair, his eyes, his expression… It seemed like he was glowing. Like he was the only thing painting Rapunzel could see, like he was the centre of her world. To say that Eugene once thought he wasn't an emotional man; Rapunzel had sure proved him wrong every day since he met her.

"Eugene!" she exclaimed, startling him a little. He hadn't noticed that she had seen him. Before he could say anything, she grabbed a rope near her and slided down easily. "Did you have a good nap?" she asked cheekily.

Eugene wanted to joke back, but nothing came to him. She was so beautiful, as always, but he felt like he rediscovered it everytime - rediscovered just how much he was able to love her, because each time it felt more than the precedent, more than he could ever conceive. Rapunzel was his light, his sunshine, the warmth and the brightness in his life - but she was also his moon, the softness and the tenderness in his life, the gravitational pull that made his love rise like an unstoppable tide. She was his everything, and he was the luckiest man in the universe.

"Yes," he finally smiled, putting the blanket in one arm, "my nap was nice, thank you."

He opened his arms and Rapunzel immediately to hug him, her body fitting into his like nothing else ever could.

------

At times, it seemed like Rapunzel's entire life had resolved around the sun. Her birth, the first eighteen years of her life, and the next four too - the power of the sundrop inside her body had regulated most of the big events she lived through. She had been kidnapped for it, yes, but had saved the love of her life and two of her best friends thanks to it so, overall, she couldn't help but be grateful. For all the pain these magical powers had caused, Rapunzel thought she received five time the happiness. She was the girl who had everything, and she knew it.

Today, though, she kept thinking about the sun comparisons.

It wasn’t rare that her friends told her she was the living embodiment of the sun and, in a way, she loved what they meant by it. It was just another way for them to compliment her kindness, or to tell her that she lightened up their days - and she was grateful to be able to do these things for them. They were a source of joy for her, and if being compared to the sun meant that she was a source of joy for them too, then she’ll accept it gladly. In the end, it was always Eugene who managed to make her heart beat faster with a simple word. Sunshine. She loved that nickname, loved how it sounded on his lips, loved what shined through his eyes when he said it - loved him, simply. The first time he used that nickname, she had felt her stomach flutter by the sheer emotion it provoked in her. She felt so lucky to be the woman he considered to be his sun, and she always knew his mind was the furthest thing away from the flower when called her sunshine - he was talking about her, Rapunzel, and only her. He never cared much about the whole destiny thing, except for what it meant to her. Today, though, it was bothering her. Not because of Eugene - it would never bother her coming from him - but because of what Sarah, an handmaiden, had told Rapunzel earlier, when they got a glimpse of the guards training by one of the castle’s window.

“The Captain is very impressive,” she had stated, and Rapunzel had nodded with a smile, indulging in a few more seconds of watching her husband being all competent and beautiful before they started walking again. “Still, I can’t believe how much you changed him!”

“What do you mean?” Rapunzel frowned.

“Well, you know, the whole thief turned good guy story! He told some of us about it again three days ago, but I’ll never get over how romantic it is,” Sarah gushed. “He’s very lucky to have met you, your Highness, because he said you were the sunshine that put the light back in his life!”

That was it, but Rapunzel mulled over it all through the meeting she was attending this afternoon. And now that she was back in her bedroom, with nothing important to do until at least an hour, she could ponder to her heart content.

It was strange, because she had heard the same sentiment before, often from Eugene himself, but it had never sounded as wrong as in Sarah’s mouth. Perhaps Eugene was lucky, but she was at least as lucky as him - and she didn’t like the idea that, without her, he would have been condemned to darkness. Eugene was much more than what she could give him. And she was much more than what he could give her, because together, they were everything. And she knew he thought as such, knew that he called her his sun he saw how brightly she shined, but did he know she thought the same of him? Did he know that she never thought he needed her to be the best thing in her life? They both changed together, they both were more together, but Eugene was already all she could dream of and more - not just a reflection of her light.

“Sunshine?” Eugene called, opening the door to pass his head through. “Ah, guess what I have for you!” he beamed once he saw her, officially interrupting her train of thoughts.

Before she could really try to guess, he got two cupcakes from behind his back, and went to sit next to her on the window sill.

“You read my mind,” she grinned, grabbing the cake out of his hand and drawing a laugh from him. “Training was okay?” she asked, her mouth full of sweet vanilla flavor.

“Pete only nearly fainted today, so there was a definite progress.” He winked and she smiled, her heart full.

They chatted about their days - nothing particularly exciting had happened but, today, Rapunzel couldn’t even remember how she could have been scared of being too comfortable and bored if she was married. Not only Eugene could talk to her all day about the rain, and she would be happy to listen and watch him talk; but she also knew that her husband would always, even unconsciously, try to make sure that she was interested in what he had to say. That was without counting on the fact that she fell a little bit more in love with him everyday, and that marriage hadn’t changed that at all - it only heightened her feelings, if anything.

Which was also why she didn’t like the idea that she was his sun, and that he was nothing that great without her. Because that was how it had sounded earlier, when Sarah said it, and that was what had bothered her so much. Eugene was… incredible. Demanitus last words to them had seemed, at the time, really sweet, but she caught herself doubting them today.

The moon can't be seen without the sun's light. She gives you light. Did she? Was Eugene really the moon that only shone under her light? And what about her, was she really that perfect sunshine that made everyone better only by having contact with them? Now that this seed of thought had taken residence in her head, she couldn’t help but feel that it was a complete misinterpretation. Or, at least, it wasn’t the full metaphor - if she was the sun, she certainly remembered burning too bright and too quickly, until Eugene cooled her down. She remembered discovering the real world for the first time in eighteen years, and she remembered wishing she could do it all at once, until Eugene helped her realise that she wouldn’t enjoy anything if she was exhausted. He was her anchor just like she was his, her savior just like she was his, her light just like she was his. She might give him light, but he gave her so much love in return that she refused to believe that he would only know darkness without her. He had too good of a soul.

“You okay? You seem deep in thought,” Eugene smiled, his brown eyes shining gold under the sunset light.

Rapunzel tried to form an answer but, before she could, he got closer to her face and, gently, stroked his thumb over the corner of her mouth - and she realised that, married or not, she still felt butterflies in her stomach because of the warmth of his smile and still shivered at the softness of his touch.

“Sorry,” he said cheekily, not sounding sorry at all, “you had frost on your cheek.”

Well, the only correct answer to that was to kiss him - so she did. She put her arms behind his shoulders to press even closer to him, feeling his own warm hand going to her back to stabilise them. Her hands were colder, though, and she didn't hesitate to slip one in his collar to draw a startled gasp out of him, just enough for her to slip her tongue between his lips. (He was happy to reciprocate.)

“Wow,” he breathed when they finally separated, Rapunzel still in his lap and her hands still around his neck, “I'm not saying that I'm not loving this, but what brought it on?”

Their breaths were still mingling together, and Rapunzel, from her position, could see every details of his face. The sky outside the window was orange now, and it only highlighted the blush she had brought to his cheeks, and the disarray of his hair, and the softness of his skin. Most of all, it highlighted his eyes, highlighted it until it seemed to hold tiny specks of gold in them - until it made his love shine through brighter than any star.

“You're my sun, Eugene,” she finally answered - it puzzled him, but then she kissed him again, and he forgot about it. Rapunzel didn't forget, though. She couldn't forget what she had finally understood, because he gave her light too - he made her world a brighter and better place everyday, and she loved him for it.

#really not sure about this one but hey when will i ever be #to say that this has a plot would clearly be an exaggeration #they just... love each other... and think about each other #love the sun and moon comparisons but the truth is they are each other UNIVERSE #New Dream Appreciation Week #Tangled #New Dream #Eugene Fitzherbert #Rapunzel

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thecrenellations · 4 years

Text

“Warmed by the sun and cooled by the sea breeze, she was busy with her thoughts.”

“All I wanted to do was lie in the dry prickly grass with my feet in a ditch forever. I could be a convenient sort of milemarker, I thought. Get to the thief and you know you are halfway to Methana. Wherever Methana might be.”

“his thoughts circled like birds that couldn’t find a perch”

“[my thoughts] churned against one another like waves in a storm”

“Relius was left behind in the quiet room, considering a new philosophy”

“It seemed like hours that he sat on the small stool by the bed, lost in his thoughts -- or whatever he had in his head that approximated thoughts.”

“Who knows but that you will get up to find that the world has inverted itself yet again?”

on finishing Return of the Thief:

HELLO I finished rott ... several days ago, now, and I am just stopping by to say that it was a LOT, and I look forward to seeing what everyone has been thinking, feeling, and drawing ... once I’ve taken a little more time away to wrap my head around it. I hope everyone has been having the reading and discussing experience that’s right for them. I’ve been thinking of all of you/all of us this week!

I don’t really know what this post is; the first time I tried writing the note above, it turned into a ton of book-adjacent feelings, so I’ll stick some of that down below, if anyone feels like reading me being introspectively lachrymose (it’s way more about me than it is about the book).

I also drew these two moments, one we saw and one we didn’t:

L: “I saw Kamet approach Teleus, who’d propped himself against a crenellated wall.” Big shoutout to the CRENELLATIONS in this final scene! Also to Kamet’s thoughtfulness :,)

R: “I’ve arranged for them to both be in the garden at the same time, entirely alone. We’ll see which one leaves alive.” wtf Gen

......

So, so, so, I finished rott, and ... wow. It’s a lot to take in, and it was definitely the most intense reading experience of my life (mentally/emotionally and also physically, in terms of heart rate/ability to sleep and otherwise function this week, oops). It’s interesting - I’d been thinking a lot about how this would be my first and only time reading a qt book just as it came out, with everyone else, since I was suspiciously fortunate and ended up with advance copies of the last two. I’d had a month or more with both ACoK and TaT before being able to jump into discussions, and I hadn’t realized until finishing this book how that might be necessary for me. I’d though I’d be eager to return to Sounis (which I still think is great for centralized, detailed conversations) and dip my toe into Discord (which sounds very fun all around), and of course to find out what everyone thought here! Turns out I am NOT ready … even though I took notes, read much slower than that one guy’s amended army speed calculations, and got to holler along with an indispensable friend who started reading at the same time, I still need some time to attempt to wrap my head around everything this book contained.

I have problems with perfectionism and weird expectations for myself in my relationship with these books – from the moment mwt announced rott, I focused on not feeling “ready” for it to happen so quickly – I wouldn’t be able to reread the existing series infinite times, or finally read Vorkosigan and Lymond and all of Rosemary Sutcliff, or reread Dalemark. Or make the art I wanted, or be truly part of Sounis again, or move forward enough that my own life didn’t feel exactly the same as in spring 2017, just more stuck. The book is out, and while I am still a bit stuck, I am different than I was in 2017 in lots of ways, even if it’s not as obvious a difference as between 2010 and 2017. A small one is my engagement with the fandom and people here! I’m pretty sure I used to just be a series of posts occasionally floating by (a decent thing to be, don’t get me wrong), and I often wonder what I seem like as a person for those who just know me here, but now I occasionally make stuff and talk to people (and even got to meet one through a coincidence that still amazes me)!

So while I’ve made some progress letting go of some of those feelings of never being ready, it’s possible that this is part of where I’m coming from now. If I NEVER COME BACK TO TUMBLR, I will certainly have fallen into that trap, but I do think I’ll be back soon. I know that these books aren’t something a reader can ever perfectly understand, especially alone, and I know they’ve been so deeply meaningful and formative because of my interactions with others and exposure to how they experience the stories and characters. (This means YOU!) The last few months have been particularly amazing, with all the rereads and anticipation. I am so grateful for that, and a new book coming out is only the beginning… of course.

Nearly 450 pages of new qt just did a number on me, and I need to take it in for a bit, reread, fill up my Mitt notebook, and make some “so, so, so” graphs (and maybe update that Valentine’s Day post) to COPE! But I am genuinely looking forward to catching up soon, and I’m truly wishing everyone the reading/discussing experience they need right now! About the book itself, I will say: so much of it made me really, really happy, and there were a few things that I truly NEVER expected to see. Some of it made me sad, mostly in a good way, because mwt writes like she does. Some of it made my heart pound even harder as I read sentence by sentence, eyes creeping down the page with my bookmark blocking what came next. And before I started the book, I got to sit with it for a few hours in a quiet park on a gently breezy and sunny day … I’ll never be the perfect reader, but that felt right.

This totally turned into a Formal Letter of Absence, as if my presence here is vital or something, but if this isn’t an occasion to toss out some emotions for all to see, what is? And it’s also possible that typing all this up has helped me work through a lot of these feelings and I’ll be back tomorrow, lol.

You read this far, here are two hasty doodles of Sophos and a horse he has an awful lot in common with, and Pheris under the table, observing some embroidered ~foreshadowing~ with his wonderful eye for detail.

#return of the thief spoilers #rott spoilers #but mostly just my feelings and a few drawings #lol sorry for the DRAMATIC QUOTES #i could not resist #and they've honestly been running through my head #mwt #something i

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nad-zeta · 4 years

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[ ✨ ] hello! may i ask for an ikesen matchup ^^? i'm usually very awkward and silent around new people and new environments in general and i get really panicky over small things (tiny mistakes, etc.). i'm not often one to start conversation, and even if i do, i just,, stare at them silently and go back to my own thing ^^;; but! once someone gets to hook me in through something i'm interested in and get me out of my shell, i get very hyper and cheery and excited easily around them ><

[ ✨ ] and at that point, congrats, you're my friends that i'll spill most secrets with :D! my interests are usually anime, games, manga, etc. but i also have a big liking to stories and books! and often times if i'm presented with a paper and pen, i *will* doodle, so drawing's also a big hobby of mine (i get really absorbed in doing it ///). back on the friend part, i won't hesitate to yell across the street to get your attention then run and hug you, and just start talking to you in high speed

[ ✨ ] and i am guaranteed to will die for you and your happiness. someone says shit? prepare to get these hands ùwú. i may be short but i am full of love for you. i'm willing and capable of doing Things - just a bit of grumbling but i will do it - but i have a tendency to be kinda slow. but some have said that i'm thorough in the task. half my hearing's basically gone so i might ask to repeat something from you for a bit, so please be patient with me o(._.'' )o and just in general lol

[ ✨ ] last thing!! the matchup is done but another request to everyone reading: please take care of yourself, take breaks and keep hydrated, and be safe out there!! i love all your works hun, and i hope you all have a wonderful day!!

Hi hi, love!🦋❤ Awwww you are so sweet, thank you for the kind words! ☺😳I hope you also have a wonderful day! ❤🦋🌻Thank you so much for the request, and I am sorry I took sooooo damn long with it! I hope you enjoy this, dear! Sending you lots of hugs! 🌻🦋❤

So I match you with.............. Kenshin

You arrived in the past with a bang and somehow despite your tiny frame managed to carry a man four times your size out of a burning building. The whole experience honestly had you on edge. Just as you started to calm down another man dressed in green came riding up to you and the man you had just saved. Hideyoshi, the raven hair beside you called the man as he climbed off his horse and knelt down in front of both of you. He looked up from you and gave you the biggest death stare you had ever seen. He demanded you give him your name and background story. You were so shocked at the whole experience you simply stayed silent. The second he drew his sword you bolted. The simple scare tactic worked too well as you ran away from the men.

Of course, Hideyoshi followed you on horseback through the forest. You ran as fast as your tiny legs could carry you running straight into yet another man. He caught you in his arms and held you steady as you reoriented yourself. Heterochromatic eyes peered down at you. You were honestly super panicked and now apologizing profusely for running into the man. His features softened slightly as he looked down at the frightened creature in his arms, he could hear the sound of horses heading towards him in the distance. He gently wrapped his large hand around your smaller one and pulled you along as he started to run. Finally, he reached his horse hidden among the bushes.

The two of you remained crouched down in the bushes alongside the horses when a calm voice broke the silence, “Lord Kenshin, I have successfully secured us an escape route, if you would please follow me.” Kenshin then swiftly lifted you up and place you on top of his horse, before climbing on behind you. The three of you rode through the night for what felt like ages until you reached a small cabin in the woods. In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think this was how you were going to die. Kenshin helped you down the horse and lead you inside. Once inside, you got a better look at the man with a calm voice, and that’s when you realized that you knew him. Sasuke looked at you and instantly knew who you were. While Kenshin was outside brushing down the horses, Sasuke explained the situation to you. It was honestly all too much for your nerves to handle and you passed out.

You woke up in an extravagant room in Kasugayama Castle, you looked around the unknown room and sighed when you realized that it was not all one big dream. From the corner of your eye, you spotted a bunny scurrying out of your room, running in an unknown direction. A few moments later Kenshin appeared with the rabbit trailing closely behind him. He placed a tray filled with food next to you and crouched down beside you, “Sasuke told me that the two of you are from the same village, you are welcome to stay here until you return home.” After that, he swiftly got up and left.

In the days to follow you started helping out the castle staff, it was slow going, but your work was thorough. Something which the maids really enjoyed about you. You had been at the castle for a full week, and you still hadn’t spotted Kenshin again since the day he brought you breakfast.

Tasks done for the day, you made your way to the castle garden to read. After Sasuke had shown you the castle’s library, you had made it your personal mission to read every book within.

You sat in the garden in the shade of a big sakura tree when, suddenly you were surrounded by hundreds of rabbits. You smiled as the fluffballs nuzzled and cuddled you. Suddenly Kenshin appeared, “It’s strange to see the bunnies following around someone other than me.” He took a seat beside you and as if on cue half the rabbits jumped onto his lap and started cuddling him. There was a peaceful silence that stretched between the two of you as you went back to reading.

Kenshin eyes you curiously but then closed his eyes and laid his head down on the soft grass to take an afternoon nap. He never liked women and would usually avoid them like the plague, but you were different. He liked that you didn’t feel the need to impress him or try and wed him like those irritating woman from the different clans.

The next day the same thing happened, as you sat beneath the tree reading, Kenshin appeared. This time he started a conversation with you, you looked up at him from the book you were reading and smiled. Luckily for Kenshin, he had asked about a topic that piqued your interest, and you started chatting with the bunny warlord.

In the days to follow the two of you would always meet under the same tree at the same time. The more days that passed, the more comfortable you were around Kenshin, gradually dropping your guard and opening up. Soon he had made it past your barriers and in your eye, you now saw him as a dear friend

Ooooh how Kenshin loved his upgraded title and this new cheerful side of you. He started giving you the nickname little rabbit cause that is precisely what you were in his eyes. Shy and reserved at first but once out of your shell, energetic and excitable. He loved how you would burst into his room, excited to show him your newest drawing. He would legit steal them and put them on display for all to see.

The two of you would spend hours together, just talking and telling each other cool stories. Sometimes the two of you would just quietly sit in the same room and do your own tasks. Kenshin would do boring admin, and you would get completely absorbed in your drawing.

To be honest the more and more time the two of you cuties spent together the more Kenshin fell entirely in love with you. You were unlike any woman he has ever met. When he opened up about his past to you, you accepted him completely and still loved him without judging. Through your friendship with the bunny warlord, you helped him slowly work through the trama and all the negative feelings he would have. Some nights when he would have nightmares, you would hear him get up and sit out in the garden. You would grab a blankie and go and join him, placing the blanket over both your shoulders as you ask him to tell you about his dream. You may be short, but you were definitely full of love for Kenshin.

During one of his conversations with Sasuke, the ninja, let it slip that you liked mangas and animes. After a lengthy explanation as to what exactly that was, Kenshin got to work. In his spare time, he worked on drawing you your own little anime manga. When it was finally complete, he handed it over to you during one of your tea dates. You excitedly started reading in, and when you got to the end, you found a letter. You carefully broke the seal and opened it. Written inside was a confession of love from the bunny warlord himself. You leapt from the place you were sitting and tackled Kenshin down in a big hug showering his face with little kisses.

Kenshin loves that you show your affection so openly towards him. His eyes will light up in delight, especially if he hears you excitedly yell out his name from across the market street. He knows to brace himself as you usually run and jump into his arms, giving him the biggest hug. For a man that never smiles, whenever you are near or in his arms, he is beaming with pure happiness.

He loves how protective you can get over him as well. Especially when someone is trash-talking him, you are ready to fight. During these times, Kenshin will gently wrap his arms around your waist and bring you closer to him, and nuzzle his nose against your neck and whisper how much he absolutely adores you.

And fear not, no one dare say one bad thing about his little bunny unless they want to lose their head. He knows that half your hearing is basically gone so he will be sure to patiently repeat whatever he is saying to you if you didn’t catch it the first time. Again and if someone dares say anything about getting annoyed with having to repeat stuff to you, he, will, not, hesitate, too, teach, them, some, manners.

Kenshin would go to the ends of the earth and back to keep that beautiful smile on your face. You have saved him from the demons of his mind, and for that, he will be eternally grateful. Just as he has successfully brought you out of your shell, you have successfully brought him out of the darkness of his past and into the light of the future

Often the two of you can be found cuddled together with your rabbit army under your favourite sakura tree. Simply exchanging sweet kisses and interesting stories.

Otherwise, the two of you are spending a peaceful afternoon together in Kesnhins room, each busy with their own task. When Kenshin is done with his work for the day, he will place himself behind you, gently wrapping his arms around your waist, and propping his head up to rest on your shoulder. He will sit like this with you tight in his arms as you continue to get absorbed in your art.

He could spend hours just sitting with you in his arms while watching you gracefully sketch out the scene in your imagination. He will definitely drop a few sweet sneaking kisses on your neck and cheek as you work.

Other potential matches………………. Mitsuhide

I hope you enjoyed this, dear! 🌻🦋❤🥰

#ikesen matchup #match ups #matches #matchups #uesugi kenshin #kenshin uesugi #kenshin ikemen sengoku #ikesen kenshin #kenshin matchup

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shhhlikeme · 4 years

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Nin’s Matchup!

(SFW + NSFW)

Matchup Profile: Sfw+nsfw matchup pretty pls! (1/5) Name: Nin>Female>5’4>Film & sfx/theatrical makeup freelancer>V athletic in MS-HS: ballet, was in volley ball, soccer &Basketball teams>Miss my prime days>Scared to start workout again b/c I’ll get lightheaded>If sum1 helps push me through initial fear, I’ll keep growing from there> Likes chilling in ballet stretch poses>paints, photographs&draws as hobby>draws a pic a day (mostly portraits)>writing a comic atm >Always plan contingencies.🦄

(2/5) >embarrassed of my loud laugh(it’s like Kuroo’s)>introvert>not afraid to lead a team tho> V shy & quiet most times>8/10 times, feels awk in public,like idk what i’m saying, but others told me I seem social>Once I’m comfy w/ u, i joke a lot(occasional mum jokes 2 annoy+Sassy dirty ones w/ S/O)>hides behind ppl who likes 2 talk, but not when they’re 2 loud>laughs @ mistakes/when embarrassed>Will stop mistreatment, even if I get in trouble>values communication&genuine discussions🦄

(3/5) Sings when home alone>competes @ Street Fighter tournaments, trains everyday 4 it>Sings “Hit Me W/ Your Best Shot” when fighting bosses in game&swears melodically when i lose>eats chips w/ chopsticks >make hats out of my cat fur when bored>Workahokic night🦉>likes 2 teach >full convos w/ my 🐱>LIVES in oversized hoodies & flip flops, regardless of weather>no pants@home!>Feels incompetent sometimes, but keep practicing 2 improve>Analytical fast learner>idk why ppl think i look innocent🦄

(4/5)>Forgets 2 speak eng when tired (Thai 1st lang.)>Headrubs 4 s/o every night b4 bed>will miss u but is bad@texting>yelps like puppy when I’m surprised>Unconventionally resourceful: Wire hangers’s fixes everything! >stress bakes & will gets pouty if it didn’t turn out well.>overwhelmed to water my 50+ 🌱 >Doodles on smt (always have a pen on me)when i feel socially anxious> 2 dance sober @ clubs> Wants a stable relationship where we work tgt like a team to bring out the best in one another🦄

(5/5) I like a s/o who is lovable, kind, genuine, mature, independent and caring, but can also joke & be silly with like best friends. NSFW: open 2 try new things>❤️restraints, blindfolds & sensual tickle sex (as lee+ler) but had always been too shy to share it with any1>occasionally self conscious of food baby+stretchmarks>🥰edging/teasing >has a thing 4 height differences (likes to feel smol lol!) & primal play.>Is a switch. I’m so sorry if it’s too much info! Thank you for doing this!🦄

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A/N: HI LOVE @crushzone !!!! I SMILE WHEN I SEE YOU IN MY NOTIFS GIRL I WORKED HARD ON YOURS OF COURSE💖 But no matter whaaaat I’m going to be very authentic in my matchups bc they’re based on compatibility and therefore, without further ado, lemme introduce you to your NEW BAE:

————————————

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO 🦉

SFW:

so you’re a theatrical makeup artist.

Aight.

Mind if I offer you a word of advice? :

RUN

“DUDE THAT’S AMAZING IT LOOKS SO SICK!”

Startled by someone’s loud booming voice, you smudged the eyeliner you were applying to your actor’s face all over their forehead. Whipping around to see who had disrupted your work you were faced with a beautiful black and grey haired owl. A rather tall... and very attractive ‘beautiful black and grey haired owl.’

He started walking around the dressing room like he owned the place, touching everything.

“Excuse me, you don’t have a badge. You can’t be backstage—!”

“Pretty obvious don’t you think, Miss ________?”

You didn’t take his bait, refusing to give this stranger your name. Bokuto shrugged.

“Well since I don’t know your name I shall label thee—Miss HOT GIRL of the 9 Kingdoms!” He nudged the knight actor who was sitting in your makeup chair with his elbow. “Did I sound 15th century ish or what??” The owl turned to you expecting to be praised. “I had to meet the person who made the medieval vampire look so scary in the last act. But that guy with the lights didn’t tell me anything about you being so hot.”

You were speechless because he was hot too

But he shouldn’t be back here so you tried to shoo him out anyway

He allowed you to try to shove him out but he was way bigger than you so nice try sis

When he yawned while you panted because you weren’t able to budge him an inch....

Bokuto wagered that he would leave if you agreed to make him look like the Hulk with your makeup skills for a Halloween party he had to go to

You didn’t really want to because you were a professional and you had no idea who this owl was but because you had 15 minutes until the second act and you needed peace and quiet if you were going to finish your job!!! ....

( This boy was not peace NOR quiet )

You agreed.... but because you answered so fast Bokuto kicked it up one notch

Prince of pushing his luck (king is reserved for Shōyo‘s extra ass)

He pretended to allow you to push him out of the makeup room a few steps but before you closed the door he stuck his foot between the door so it couldn’t close.

Smiling, he peered back in, looking down at you:

“AND...... you have to agree to go on a date with me. Tomorrow night?”

“Ugh FINE!”

Bo removed his foot and let himself out with a bounce in his step.

SERIOUSLY WHO LET THIS MAN BACKSTAGE......

Needless to say, after a few dates, mans won you over like he wins EVERYONE over

It surprised you how comfortable you became with him but he just has that affect on people

***

In terms of your athletic relationship Bokuto does many things:

He pushes you to go to the gym with him for one

He signs the two of you up for impromptu Beginner 30-day challenges that you both must stick to

So every morning for 30-days straight he jumps on you in bed to wake you up:

“NIN BABY TIME TO HIT THE GYM. BABY NIN TIME TO GET IN SOME SEXY GYM SHORTS. MON BÉBÉ NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNN—“

“Kōtarō, please shut up.”

he doesn’t

He drags you there and eventually you get back into the swing of things.. killing it in the weight room with your supportive man cheering on your every rep!

You don’t even need him to wake you up during the second challenge!

Your volleyball player boyfriend also signs you up (without permission) for the neighborhood soccer team that Akaashi’s girlfriend is already on

You hated it at first because it was uncomfortable going back after not playing for so long but you soon realized that all the girls there were ex-athletes too and not stars

You formed amazing new girl friendships (especially with Akaashi’s gf) and double dates with them were one of your favourite nights of the week!

You owed that happiness in your life all to your Owl 🦉🥰

He and Akaashi came to every soccer game y’all had and you and the three of you went to all of Bokuto’s games, obviously

Btw you all were FITTTTTT OML

***

In addition...

You already know that your man finds your artistic talents insanely fascinating

On your first anniversary together Bokuto gifted you with a new paint set and new French stand:

Because he admires you Bokuto also tries to draw and paint seriously just like you

You stand over his shoulder and give him corrections and baby owl learns so fast it’s amazing

You two make ‘paint night’ a thing when you move in together and it’s always the most fun event!!!!

Bokuto CONSTANTLY and I mean CONSTANTLY asks for you to add him to the comic you’re writing but you say no because he wouldn’t fit in

He sulks but one day you surprise him by showing him that you drew a cute soaring black and gray owl in the background of almost every outdoor scene in your comic,

you pointed out that it was him

BOKUTOOOO WAS SOOOOO HAPPY

HE WAS SHOUTING FROM THE ROOFTOPS

He called Akaashi right away and almost cried tears of joy hahahahaha

***

Your contingent based lifestyle has saved your reckless boyfriend’s life and career many-a-times

It’s one of the things he loves most about you.

Also, it is important to mention that he is in LOVE with your laugh

Bby owl does anything to hear it and showers your face with kisses when you laugh to draw it out

He loves you so freaking much

When you don’t make sense and speak gibberish in public because your awkward side randomly comes out......your boyfriend loves to make fun of you:

“Huh? Nin, that wasn’t Japanese, that wasn’t Thai and that definitely wasn’t English. What planet is my adorable baby girl from, again? And how do I return her in exchange for a floating space car instead?!”

suh cute

All of Bokuto’s teammates really like you because you work in conjunction with Akaashi which means you actually have the magic ability to get Bokuto out of emo mode even faster than his best friend 🤯🤯🤯

When he’s at an away game in emo mode his teammates will literally FaceTime you and point their phone in his general direction

“Hey, Kōtarō!!!! Look, Nin’s on the phoneeee!”

Bby owl turns around slowly when he was sulking in the corner and when he sees you on the screen he’s running and jumping on whoever is holding your phone.”

“Kōtarō baby. You’re going to stop this emo mode right now. If not I won’t let you paint me nude like we discussed.”

mans was like: 😨😨😨😨🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

YEP the next second you see him hitting his best practice spikes and his teammate thanks you profusely

You do this several times until Kōtarō just knows to not go into emo mode anymore because you won’t be happy

A year into his professional volleyball career The Black Jackal’s coach sent a surprise fruit bouquet to your work one time:

With a note that read:

To Nin,

Thanks.

Thanks a lot.

Love,

The Team

***

I know you don’t really like people who are considered “too loud” and Bokuto is like...... “MEGA LOUD 🎙 “ but you and Akaashi work together to quiet your boy down as he gets older

He’s perfect

And you love him

***

OKAY THIS IS THE FUNNIEST day THING:

You know how you like standing up for people (even strangers) and stuff?

Well one day, you and Bokuto get caught on a show called WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

Where the two of you cussed out this cat-abusing actor on the show in a convincing scenario!

It was PRICELESS

Bokuto literally tells everyone that y’all are movie stars because of it 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

***