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jujutsukgojo · 6 months ago

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The Baby Project: Chapter Five

izuku midoriya x reader, minor hitoshi shinsou x reader

1, 2, 3, 4

Summary: On July 15th, the flavor of the day is strawberry shortcake.

tw: fluff, slight angst (?)

The old camera sits nicely in your hands. Having polaroids seems more personal and shows Noa’s development in a better way. You attach the photos to your monthly reports to make up for Kaibara’s pathetic effort. Why you care about that you don't know, but you do. Everyone knows about it. Snipe was there to witness it. Yet, wanting to prove to him that Noa is strong without Kaibara, feels needed.

Maybe it is also your way to make you feel better. About everything, really. The case has been going great and your arguments have been thoroughly studied and practiced. It will still be a while before you can go in front of everyone, but you’ll make do. So, there’s no reason to even think about Kaibara unless it involves revenge.

As for right now, you’re capturing the moment of Izuku and Noa matching outfits. Both of their smiles match and are wide from happiness. Noa is wearing his Deku jacket and some green pants with red shoes to match. Izuku is wearing his hero outfit without the gear.

Although Noa still bears a striking resemblance to you, he shares some similarities to Izuku. It is getting harder to say that Noa shares something with his dad other than the last name.

This project is insane. You can only hope you won’t go crazy. If it happens, you hope not to take Izuku down with you. He makes the frustration and pain you feel everyday go away bit by bit. Even when you hurt him, he hangs on. Does he know how sweet he is? How in a short amount of time have you come to really like him?

Both him and Noa’s grins are cheesy. “Alright, we’re keeping this one.” The picture comes out of the camera and onto the pinboard next to your dresser’s wall. Both of their arms are flexing and their stances are fit for a hero’s poster board. Although you usually give the pictures to Snipe, you’ll keep this one. After the conference with Hawks, it may be all you have of Izuku and his little moments with you.

“Here, Noa!” Izuku grabs the camera and turns it to you. The bright flash catches you by surprise. You grab Noa. “Wait, Noa wasn’t in that one.”

“I know. This is for me.” He whispers it to himself. You had to strain to hear it. Finally, he takes a picture of both you and Noa. “Cheese!”

How do you take all of this in? How is any of this supposed to make sense? Noa’s warmth feels so real. He’s fleshy and his heart is beating a steady rhythm. Izuku’s here like he wants to be and like he’s comfortable. This project has messed with us all. It’ll get worse from here.

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

“Ok, what about this though? They can say that they don’t owe anything if it aligns with the curriculum.”

“How does this assignment pertain to us? None of the authority figures have explained what this is even for. It’s not for us . This isn’t in our curriculum, it’s theirs.” You talk and move your hands at the same time. You go to the classmate who spoke, Akane. A blonde haired girl with completely black eyes. Her iris, pupil, and sclera are all ink black.

“I’m writing that down.” Riko says. Benio stops highlighting. “She says that every day.”

“Yeah, but not with passion.”

In your hand is an old law book. When heroes first started, they altered the laws to fit a growing society with various powers. Order needed to be established, not just for the people, but for the ones who can do things no one else could. Rules that even the big wigs have to uphold.

“Okay, let’s continue. In section eight, there is a passage, right? About justice for mankind in the form of free speech.”

“That doesn’t apply…” Ema whispers as she gently moves a stroller back and forth, calming someone else’s doll.

“Free speech is what wasn’t given to us at the start of this project. Our concerns that we tried to raise went completely ignored, which goes against the text.”

You ask Benio to hand over his book that he is recklessly highlighting. “In layman’s terms here, we have a right to say shit if it harms our wellbeing. Since it is a danger to us, we have the right to say no and they have to take that into consideration, which they haven’t.”

She writes all of that down. You put the book on the table and she highlights it. Sakura walks to the table. “Okay, what about this one? It’s a tricky little bitch. If the decision is for the good of the school, these rules are overridden."

Sakura, who is just the social media director, hands you the new U.A. rulebook. It’s slim and isn’t creased in the slightest. You doubt anyone has seriously looked into it. You look at it as she holds it out with her hand. You suck in your lips and think.

“How is this project for the good of the school? And why exactly would that matter? They’re heroes, not politicians. How can they sacrifice lives for the sake of us being practice dummies? The students can be used for practice in a rescue exercise in a controlled environment and there must not be any harm. This,” You gesture at the room and the dolls.

“Can’t be used since it’s harming and endangering us, and no one is being saved. It isn't an assignment or for practice. This is abuse of authority. Besides, it’s an emotional project for them. Because of Todoroki who is still here.”

“There you go again.” Benio puts the highlighter down. “You can’t blame him for his father and brother's sins.”

“No, what I can blame him for is being the cause of this thing. This may have been their idea, but it is him that is endangering us all. This project is emotional,” you point to Sakura’s book. “And it is against the rules. It’s all based on Todoroki. It’s for him without thinking of the consequences. They can't use the excuse that this is for the good of the school. Lives are at stake."

"No one here is dying, love."

"Our hearts are. Our mental, emotional, and physical health is taking a hit, too. They're failing us."

Ema waves her hands around, letting go of the stroller’s handle. “Wait, wait, wait. Hawks cared for Twice-”

“Good for us!”

“Or bad. He may think this project is a good thing to prevent someone like Twice, who he considered a victim of circumstance. What are you going to say?”

You remain silent for a minute. They all look at you. “It’s redundant. What they’re doing is creating Twice. All it takes is one bad day to drive a man mad. How many have we had? If they want to prevent another League, they need to care for the people right in front of them. It only takes a day to ruin someone.”

Sakura gets on her phone and has a smirk on her pretty face. You yawn as another book opens. The clock seems slower but tells the right time. Determined to intake everything you can and rebut your friend’s practice arguments, you ignore your headache and drowsiness.

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

The lids of your eyes are unbelievably heavy. Your body is swaying as you hold Noa’s hand. Noa yaps happily and stumbles from time to time. You’re patient and help him along as best you can.

You try not to think of the heaviness of your backpack that is filled with textbooks, on your shoulder is Noa’s diaper bag and in your hand is Noa. If you pay attention to it, these aches that are settling into your muscles and all the way to your bones, will stay. Maybe you need a coffee. A nice coffee and probably a snack for Noa. A vending machine, a beautiful machine that has glorious food and coffee, is against the wall to your left. You slowly head to it with a tired smile on your face. Someone gets in front of it and enters their money. You wait patiently behind him. Right as he moves out of the way and your smile gets wider until it is snuffed out when you see a robot baby face down next to the machine.

"What is that?"

The guy sipping a coffee hums and follows your eyes to the baby. "Mm, that's my project."

"Have you lost your mind? Pick it up!" His tired eyes widened. "I'm serious!" You bend down to pick it up, withholding a groan. Carefully, you turn it over and see that it has his eyes and fluffy purple hair. Its tummy rumbles, vibrating your arm. "Are you kidding me? Have you even fed it?"

"Listen-"

"No, no! Where's the bottle?" He pats himself then pulls a bottle out of his back pocket. Mei's face hasn't lit up to show that it's expired. You snatch it from his hand and put it in the baby's mouth. Greedily, they suck on it, not letting a drop spill. "What is wrong with you? God, heroes are so fucking lazy."

"Wait a min-"

"Shut up," You don't know why you're doing this. This project in your arms is not your responsibility. You kick his shin, barely making him wince. “Look, I don’t know you-” You put the baby in his arms. He drops his canned coffee on the ground as he scrambles to hold him. “But I do know that you will do better. You are going to take responsibility and raise it and not rely on strangers to do it.”

You cut him off right when you see his mouth open. “Do you rely on your partners in the field? Risk their lives for your failures?” He stops and stares. “If not, then don’t do it to us. Raise it. And if you do rely on everyone, then you have no business trying to be a hero.” As parting gift, you kick him again. He doesn’t try to dodge this time. You turn and leave, no longer thirsty for a coffee.

Noa squeezes your hand. His brows cinch together in worry. You sigh and give a small smile, hoping to ease him. All you want is to sleep and get Noa to take a nap, God willing. Noa’s eyes don’t leave yours. You yawn again and unintentionally slow down. Your body isn’t moving as well as you want it to. In the distance you hear the purple haired baby cry.

Unfortunately, that confident front is just what it is: a front. A facade, a lie if you will. Because when you face your door, you’re barely hanging on. Everything is heavy, it weighs a million pounds. Noa goes inside first and heads to his toys. Immediately, you fall onto your bed and sleep, forgetting your meds.

Right as you can smell the intense scent of lavender and see the purple mist swirl around, your shoulders are grabbed roughly. “(Y/n), love, wake up!” You flinch at the contact. “What’s wrong? Dearie, what's wrong?"

You look up and see Izuku with furrowed brows and worry in his green eyes. They dart along your figure. “Huh?”

“I asked what’s wrong? I wasn’t able to contact you, so I got worried.” You look at the clock and see that it is almost bedtime. You’ve missed dinner and valuable time doing whatever Noa won’t allow you to do.

Crap, Noa hasn’t eaten.

“Noa-”

“I’ll take care of it, okay?” He looks you over and settles back on your eyes. “You don’t look so good, I’ll handle it. Just rest.”

You reach for your meds and take them. You don’t miss how he stares at you. Without thinking about it, you hit the pillow with your eyes closed, already asleep. Whether you were working or not, you crashing was bound to happen. It’s been a long time since you’ve gotten to sleep, to actually rest. What once weighed a million pounds is fading away with the drift of peaceful sleep.

Hours later, you wake up surprised. Next to you is Noa, of course. But behind him is a hero with green curls who is laying on his side, dead asleep. His arm wrapped around you while Noa snuggles closer to you. Your face is on fire. Not only is he in your room again, he’s in your bed. Next to you. There’s a boy in your room sleeping on your bed with you.

You stretch and wiggle out of his hold he tightens it at first then lets go. Groaning, you look at the time. It’s morning now, still dark out but enough to at least get breakfast going. Quietly, you close the door and head downstairs to the kitchen. On the way, you try to come up with some explanation about the boy in your room.

A boy.

In your room, on your bed. In the elevator, you squeeze your head then cover your mouth to hold in the squeal. You instead do it in your hand. “Izuku’s in my bed!”

You slept together in an innocent way. “Oh my God.” What is this stupid giddiness? This is embarrassing! He’s going to do something like the walk of shame or whatever. What will everyone say when Izuku comes down with his morning voice, and his curls-

“ Lord, help.” You stop the elevator and shake your head. You’re a pervert for the thoughts going through your head because not a single one of them are innocent.

Taking a deep breath, you press the button for it to go down. You need to stop having teenage hormones and focus on the fact that Noa needs food. So does Izuku. Izuku…what if he doesn’t like it? You could be cooking something, and he won’t like it or he’s allergic! Actually, you’d prefer for him to be allergic than not like the food.

The door opens and you try to calmly walk out. You take a deep breath and run to the kitchen. “Plain oatmeal is safe, right? He can doctor it up himself and I’ll be in the clear. Yeah.” You don’t really want to do that. It’s stupid, the entire thing. There’s this stupid feeling of wanting to impress him.

He’s a guest, right? You’d be a bad hostess. Who knows? Maybe he’d like it and want to stay or something.

You’re a degenerate.

You smack your cheeks. “Okay, let’s get started then.”

An hour or so later, the sun is peeking out now. You look around and see another deviant. A horrible villain that has no place to be near you. “Hello, (Y/n).”

Fucking Benio. He stands there with a plate and a bowl ready for you and on the counter is a mug of coffee that was set for Izuku. Unfortunately, Benio obviously claimed it. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t going to say anything but,” He sets his dishes on the counter. Benio leans on it and gestures to the food. “Alas, it seems I must.”

“Excuse me?”

“Telling Snipe that Deku is in your bed.” You gasp and toss a strip of bacon at him. How the fuck did he know that? “Hey, he’s the birthday boy. Who am I to judge what his present is.”

“It is not li-wait, birthday boy? Today’s his birthday?”

“Yeah, it’s July 15th. What? You didn’t know?” You shake your head no. “He didn’t say anything about it.”

“And you let him in your room anyway. The shame.”

You scoff. “Really? Like you haven’t fooled around? Besides, he fell asleep there. He was playing with Noa and just fell asleep. I was making breakfast for the little butthead and thought I’d be nice.”

“You haven’t been nice since you were one. When you turned two it went downhill.” You roll your eyes. “Fuck, you’re still in your terrible twos.”

You finally take his plate and put some food on it. “Make sure Kobeni eats.”

You turn to load the boys’ plates. Noa’s is a little different since he’s young. Rather than having a fried egg like Izuku, you scrambled his and put rice on his little purple plate. Maybe you should’ve called Ken. You can cook just fine on your own, though having Ken’s advice would probably have made it better.

Benio places a mug on the tray and the boys’ dishes on it. “I was just playing. Even if something did happen, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

You side eye him and grab the tray. You tap your fingers on the counter and raise your brow at him. “You’ve been talking to Yaoyorozu a lot?”

“Somewhat. She’s still barely doing anything but it’s progress. She thinks being friends or something is a start so she talks a lot. I don’t know. I’m still having trouble trusting her.”

You rub your neck. “I don’t blame you. I don’t trust what’s-his-name either nor will I ever.” He can’t be redeemed in the slightest. A villain attack could happen and you wouldn’t have him save you. You’d rather die.

“Mm, this is a good thing, my secret double agent.”

“You’re evil and I love it,” He stretches for his bones to give a relieving crack. “It’s a good idea anyway. Especially when a certain someone wants to pay you a visit.”

“Who?” Benio waves and thanks you for the food, ignoring your questions of who wants to talk to you.

It’s a hassle to get the heavy tray upstairs and even harder to open your door. You set the tray on the ground and open it to find Noa standing. “Mmm, go.”

Izuku pops up from his slumber. “He’s saying sentences!” He tumbles out of your bed, bringing your blankets with him. “Where’s my phone?!”

“I don’t think you brought it. And that wasn't a sentence.” Izuku still pats around, totally oblivious to what you just said. “Mm, papa."

“He’s talking again! Where’s my damn phone?!”

You try to get his attention and tell him that his hair is standing straight up on one side and drool is crusted on the other side of his face. He doesn’t look like the Izuku you imagined downstairs. Right now he looks goofy with red lines on his face and sand in his eyes. “The camera’s right-”

“Camera, a camera!” He takes a quick step to your desk where the camera lies and stubs his toe.

Oh my God.

Noa walks to you and hugs your legs. “Ma-”

Is he trying to say mama? Is it finally happening?

“Izuku get the fucking camera!” Now there’s a reason to celebrate. Noa stares into your eyes with what looks to be wonder. With a smile he says, “No.”

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

“Say thank you, mommy!” Izuku helps Noa eat.

“No.”

Fucking brat. “He doesn’t need to be fed anymore, Izuku.”

He ignores you and cuts Noa’s eggs with a fork. “I know, I know. These are big pieces though.”

“Of scrambled eggs?”

“Anything can happen!” You watch as they eat. Izuku suddenly stops before he gives Noa another bite. He studies your figure all the way down to your lap. They flicker back up to your eyes. “Where’s yours?”

It took him a whole seven minutes and thirty-three seconds to realize you don’t have one.

You don’t want to tell on Benio. “Oh? There was only enough-” Izuku then shoves a piece of his egg in your mouth. Noa laughs and takes it upon himself to join in on feeding his mom who he insists doesn’t have that title . He grabs some of his food and shoves it in your mouth.

When should you ask what he wants for his birthday? It wouldn’t be weird for you to give him something, of course. He did sleep in here, on your bed. With you. And is still here. With you.

Swallowing your food, you say, “I heard it’s your birthday.”

He puts some rice in your mouth. “Yeah.”

You mess with the bottom of your shirt. “Is there anything you want to do? Because we could have a party, the three of us.”

“Well-”

Your door is knocked on with even taps. Izuku gets up to answer it while looking down at the floor. Benio is there with his arms crossed. At first, Izuku doesn’t realize the implication that this could have until Benio grins. Izuku waves his hands around.

“Ah! I-I-um, I can explain why I’m here before-”

“Aye, she already said. And it’s no secret you’re here anyway since you jumped into her window like that.”

You take a bite from Noa’s eggs. “You came in through the window?”

Izuku turns red and stutters. “I couldn’t get a hold of you! I thought something might've been wrong-”

“Oh my God.”

“Anyway,” Benio stops and coos at Noa who instantly recognizes his uncle. “Deku’s needed in the hero course.”

Izuku slumps and turns around. “Noa, sugars!” He squats with his arms wide. Noa goes over and gives his papa a kiss. On Izuku’s freckled face is a smile that seems forced. A facade to cover whatever he feels and is not planning on telling.

“(Y/n), I’ll see you soon.”

There is something off about him looking back at you when he leaves by jumping out the window. His eyes lacked the sparkle they usually have. Well, you and Noa will have to change that.

Noa whines for his papa at first, his little feet pad to the window that you launch yourself at to close it. To stop him from losing his shit, you give an offer that you are sure will make a mess. “Wanna bake a cake for papa?”

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

“Alright Bubba, where should we start?” The recipe isn't complicated. The only thing that might foil it is Noa.

He stretches to give you an egg. You grab it from him before he drops it. “Come here, little boy.” You pull the kiddie chair up that you snatched from the commons. With the help of Noa’s ‘big boy muscles’, you set it next to the counter for him to stand on. You’d prefer he’d sit though.

He excitedly bounces and gets on top of the seat. “You’re already so strong, y’know that?” It’s true. He’s only one, but everyone that sees him would swear he was two. He’s beyond advanced. If he doesn’t officially turn two soon, then you’ll have to take him to Mei because he’s broken.

Despite being incredibly advanced, he is struggling with calling you mom, mama, or mommy or anything that is remotely similar to a mother’s name. All you get is no and eyes that hold a gleam that is too suspicious to be innocent. No matter, there is no reason to worry. He is a year old, not five.

You put the wet ingredients first with the help of mini man. Before he can mix everything too harshly, you guide his hand. Suddenly, you hear footsteps outside of the kitchen. You know for a fact that no one is supposed to be here since everyone had plans.

You mess with Noa’s hair. “Stay here, okay?” He nods and keeps stirring slowly. “I already know you’re gonna fuck with shit.” You say under your breath as you exit.

There he is. The purple haired deadbeat bitch. You clench your fists until you see the baby. “I’m not taking care of it for you.” You say. His eyes catch yours. He stupidly grins, showing his perfect white teeth. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You gave him heartburn last time he saw you.”

“And you make me itch.”

He takes a step forward and deeply inhales. “Well, you-” The two of you stop when you smell something burning. You take off into the kitchen with what’s his face right behind you. On the stove is a fire with Noa’s hand on the knob. He leans to it and keeps adjusting the degree. He’s in awe of the orange light that doesn’t resemble the candlelight that he’s used to.

You run towards him until purple hair snatches you up with one arm around your waist. “Back up!”

He grabs Noa and hands him to you. He turns the stove off, but it doesn't help. Purple hair lays eyes on the fire extinguisher that is protected by a metal cage with a glass window. Finally, a white substance calms the flames until they’re nothing. It evaporates completely, leaving no trace of a fire or the substance that has been manufactured by a quirk. Your hand is protectively on Noa’s head who has yet to cry.

“What were you thinking?!” The man scolds. You can’t remember his name right now, not when your adrenaline is like this. “Leave us alone!”

“No! I think you two have been left alone enough!” Sick of him you go up and push him away. You point to the exit. “ Leave! This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you!”

He scoffs. “Yeah, blame me princess. That’d get you far.”

“Dumbass, it’s your fault. You come in here and distract me and now look. How am I supposed to finish this?”

He looks around. “What the hell were you doing other than a terrible job?”

Your eyes practically bulge out of your sockets. “You ass-”

“What the hell is it?”

“I was making a chocolate cake.” You say as if you’re stating the obvious. He raises a purple brow. “For what?” Your eyes go to the floor. You didn't think that anyone would question why you’re doing this. It’s no one’s business! Yet, you explain anyway. “It’s Izuku’s birthday.”

There is a silence that neither of you break for a minute, then he inhales. “Izuku’s favorite cake isn't chocolate.”

Oh. “ Who’s to say I want to make his favorite?” That was dumb. His smile and eyes are knowing and arrogant. “So, you want to disappoint him?”

“...No.” You are starting to hate yourself. He gets a little closer. You notice that black jumpsuit fits him baggily and the fishnets he has on his forearm are snug. It’s an odd costume, one you wonder if he took inspiration from a comic book villain mixed with his teacher, Eraserhead. Minus the clown boots, of course.

He sucks in his lips and looks around. “I could tell you.” You strum your fingers along the counter. Rather than showing anything, you decide to come off as nonchalant. “Okay.”

“Only if you tell me happy birthday, too.” You scoff in disbelief. “Pardon?”

“My birthday was two weeks ago, and no one was this sweet.” What the fuck. Surely, he has friends up the ass. He’s in the hero course and was impressive in the Sports Festival. Plus, he knows Izuku. They must be friends, and no way would Izuku not celebrate a friend’s birthday.

You put your hand on your hip. “This isn't for you.”

“Trust me, I don't want it after seeing you in the kitchen.” He gestures behind him at the stove. Noa giggles. “That wasn't me, that was him!” You point to the little brat.

“Mhm, sure princess.”

You take a deep breath. You’re going to ignore that and not tell him that you literally worked in a restaurant. “Just tell me his favorite.”

He tilts his head with an expectant expression. Under your breath with clenched teeth, you say, “Happy birthday.” He hums and answers simply, “Strawberry shortcake.”

“Thank you. You're dismissed.” You turn to the bowl on the counter. Luckily, the extinguisher didn't get in the mixture. On top of that, you already started with the right ingredients and Ema has been on a strawberry kick, so that's covered. Other than the fire, it's going well.

You side eye the purple menace who is still standing next to you. Slowly, you stir the contents in the mixing bowl. “What’d you come here for anyway?” You see that he doesn’t have his baby. You give a short laugh. He sucks his teeth. “What’cha laughing about?”

“Hmph, you dare judge me about leaving my kid alone when you don’t have yours.” He shrugs at you. “It’s on the couch. I don’t know what to do with it, to be honest.”

You slam the items down. “Have you even tried? Or are you expecting us to do it for you? Ugh, I’ve had it with you heroes.”

“Says the person making a cake for one.” You close your eyes. You don’t like him.

“Whatever. What did you come here for?” You stop and turn to him. He looks down for a moment then answers, “I wanted to thank you for snapping me out of it.”

Whatever face you’re making must say a lot because he chuckles a little and rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh, wasn’t doing what I needed to and you kicked me into gear. So, thanks. I can’t promise I’ll be good at it, but I’ll try my hand.”

This is unexpected. A total turnaround from the arrogant son of a bitch he showed you two seconds ago. Now, he looks his age; a shy boy in his late teens who is turning his pride in for reality. Seeing it makes you feel a subtle happiness inside your chest. Not because you're proud of him but out of total spite. Earlier, Benio said that someone wanted to talk to you. This guy is obviously who he meant.

“You’re welcome that I was kind enough to point out how useless you are. Now leave.”

Rather than finding anger or embarrassment in what you said, he chuckles. "I can’t even stay and watch?”

“No.”

“How about to judge?”

“No.”

The more he stays and watches your every move, the more your hands shake. You pause your movements longer than you want to with every whisk as you feel his gaze on you. “Can you please stop?”

“I’m just watching.” Without looking at him you know he has a smug face that needs a good slap. “You’re making me nervous.”

He hums and moves his hand to pluck a strawberry. “Alright, how about this. I go on the couch and mess with the kid-”

“Kids. Yours is in there too.”

“Okay, kids, and you can make your cake, eh?” You groan then say yes. A sigh of relief leaves your lips when he leaves. You don’t really know his name and it is most likely vice versa, yet he acts like he knows you.

“Whatever.” You wash the strawberries, getting ready to cut them. You hear Noa blow a raspberry as he speeds towards you. “Where’s the purple guy?” You whisper. Around the corner, you see him on the couch waving at you. “What’re you doing?”

“He wants to cook with you. I’ll stay in here while you two bond.”

“Mhm, take this time to bond with yours.”

You duck back in and continue with Noa. Surprisingly, he’s pretty good at it. However, he’s a robot so why wouldn’t he be? You deeply inhale and look at Noa, reminding yourself that he isn’t real despite this warmness towards him. Every cheer you give him when he correctly places something, or when you take the cakes out of the oven and let them cool and he bounces so cutely, you have to be reminded that he’s not your son.

He’s fake. Even now when you two are coloring with Hitoshi Shinsou, and he scribbles circles, he isn’t your son. So, stop feeling this. Hitoshi is talking to a machine right now, not a child with your nose and mouth. The faces he makes that resemble yours aren't real. None of this is real.

“This belongs on the fridge of fame.” You take Noa’s art and show Hitoshi. He goes along with it and claps. “Absolutely.”

The bell on your phone rings. “I’ll be back.” You get up and go to the kitchen again. The two boys follow you, leaving the baby on the couch. You wished they stayed so you can continue reminding yourself of that fact. No matter how precious Noa and this moment is, none of it is real. This moment is bound to stay with you, even though it is beautifully cursed.

The cakes are cooled down and you begin to assemble everything with shaky hands. Noa, of course, keeps dipping his finger in the whip cream and Hitoshi lingers around to do the same. Since he’s grown, those long fingers of his get smacked every time.

Your phone dings at an inopportune time. Your fingers are covered with strawberry juice and cream. “Um-”

“I got it.” He opens it and on the screen is Izuku. “Izuku?”

“Ooh, you two are on a first name basis already?”

“Shinsou? You’re there?” Izuku calls out. Hitoshi is holding the camera facing away from him, so Izuku has a full view of you. “Yeah, Hitoshi’s here.”

“You remember my name, princess?”

“Now I do. You weren’t on my radar, babygirl.” He huffs and Izuku clears his throat. “Anyway, if you’re done Shinsou. (Y/n), I won’t be able to-”

“Deku! Come on!” In the corner you see pink cheeks and brown hair. She’s quick and tugs on Izuku. “Turn off the phone!”

“In a minute Ocha-uh, Uraraka. It’s (Y/n).” She hums. “You can talk to her later, Deku. It’s your birthday!”

Your breath is caught in your throat. You don't like this. This jealous and angry feeling in your chest. “I-I’ll talk to yo- okay. I’m coming. Give Noa my lov-” The phone hangs up.

You take a deep breath and suck on your teeth. Your eyes go up to Hitoshi’s purple gaze. You have only known this guy for a hot minute, and so far, he has shown you how rude he is. Hitoshi’s judgment and mockery is something to be expected. Instead of being met with a mocking expression, it is blank.

“If it makes you feel better, he’s going on a mission today.”

“Why would that make me feel better?” Him eating his favorite cake that you and Noa made would be better. Him being here for the decorations Noa made out of construction paper and his scribbles would’ve been great.

“Because of his bad luck,” You side eye him, looking away from Noa’s increasing close space to the cake. It spells trouble but the boy who is supposed to eat it isn’t coming. “You seem to be into that sort of thing,” You smile a little. “Into pettiness. Maybe even vengeance.”

You are. He hit it right on the money. “Yep.”

As he chuckles, you realize that he has a bit of a sultry voice. Although, you can’t tell if it is natural or if he’s doing it on purpose. Either way, hearing it, being near him like this, is making your face unintentionally warm. His fluffy, wild, purple hair stands in all directions, his tired eyes at first seem dull but his white pupils expanding tell otherwise; especially since he’s been here messing with you.

Hitoshi Shinsou is an enigma that is most likely hiding in plain sight. His reasoning may not even be complex. This could all be a joke.

“Figured.” He sucks his teeth and his purple eyes trail to you with a suspicious gleam in them. Noa shouts a loud ‘ hey’.

You are saved from those weird thoughts by the sound of a robot. You go out of the kitchen and into the living room and see Hitoshi’s baby’s eyes fading. “Um, Hitoshi!”

He runs to you and puts his hand on your arm. “Wh-oh, that.” You groan and smack his hand. “Will you take care of-wait, what’s his name?”

“I don’t remember. My partner was the one that named him.” What the hell? You groan and rub your eyes. You know that his project shouldn’t be a concern of yours. This robot has nothing to do with you. Yet looking at its eyes becoming lifeless is tugging at your heart. “His name is now…” A face appears in your mind. It’s familiar and sorely missed.

“Kenji.”

“Alright, Kenji Shinsou,” Hearing the name of the man you miss the most causes your heart to clench. You clear your throat and say, “You should take care of him. This is your grade, too.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh, don’t really know how.”

“Are you kidding me. So, this is why you're here. For me to take care of it.” You don’t even ask for legitimacy because you already know that heroes are totally dumb, rude, and useless. You were an idiot to find him somewhat kind.

“I wasn’t raised around young kids like this. I changed him and fed him already. I don't know what else to do.” You put your hands on your hips. “What if a baby needed help-”

“That's why I'm thanking you! Because you're right. I'm not going to lie though. I really don't know what to do.”

You sigh. “This isn't my responsibility.” This project is a problem. Not just for your rights or physical wellbeing, but your emotions. As time goes on, you notice how hateful and angry you’re becoming while your maternal instincts are increasing. Even now with this doll that isn’t yours you feel protective. Is this hero taking advantage of it? Can you even see anything straight anymore?

“You don't have to help and I'm not asking. Honest to God, this is just a coincidence.” You hate this project. They're not real babies yet your heart is sad for it. The cursed heart strings tug for this dying machine.

“When did you do that?”

“At six.” You look at the clock. “It’s literally six o’clock. When?”

He rolls his eyes. “This morning. It’s a robo-” There’s a spike of panic, causing you to interrupt him. “Hush,” You gesture for him to sit next to you. “Check his diaper, first.”

He goes to take his bottoms off. You mutter, “At least you dressed him.” Hitoshi scoffs and replies snarkily. “I’m new to this, not an idiot. Unlike some people.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hm?” Y’know what, screw it. You were about to warn him what happens with little boys when the parent isn’t prepared, but screw it. Let him learn the hard way. You smile at Hitoshi who finally undoes Kenji’s diaper. Nothing. Nada. This boy doesn’t pee on him.

Your eye twitches. Hitoshi looks at you worriedly. “He didn’t do anything. Think he’s hungry?”

Through clenched teeth, you confirm that it’s most likely what’s wrong. “Do you even have a bottle?”

“Obviously. It’s right in there. Midoriya gave me a whole speech after I mentioned you in passing as the bossy princess who kicked me.”

You laugh and place your hand on your chest. “Bossy? Me?”

“I love how you don’t deny the princess part.”

You shrug. “Because it’s true.”

He places the bottle in Little Ken’s mouth. The baby slurps the milk happily, slowly gaining color to his cheeks and light in his artificial eyes. It matches Hitoshi but he also strangely looks familiar. You can’t place it though.

“See? That’s all you have to do. Babies aren’t hard. It’s those little boogers that are a pain.” You point to Noa who is biting a crayon. “Spit that out right now.” His spit dribbles to the table as he follows your direction.

“Okay, now what?” Hitoshi takes the bottle from Little Ken. You point lazily to the baby. “Now you burp him. Easy peasy, just pat his back.”

Hitoshi does so, careful not to hit so hard. Every once in a while he looks at you to see if he’s doing it right.

“Why did you come if the party's still going on other than manipulating me? Be straight with me.”

After Little Ken burps and spits up, Hitoshi gives what you think may actually be an honest answer. “I heard you were here so I wanted to see you. I wanted to thank you for reminding me that heroes have a job that includes more than public heroism.” He gazes into your eyes. “We have to save hearts, too. My partner isn’t participating at all. That doesn’t mean I don’t have too,”

This project is breaking hearts, yours included. Not just because of dead beats, but the impending conclusion of the project, of Noa. So, what is he talking about? Heroes haven’t saved a single person here.

“This project isn’t fair. There must be a reason and as a future pro, I have to walk with you. It isn’t right to leave you guys by yourself since I’m carrying the same burden.”

He cradles Kenji like a new dad. “Honest to God, I didn't come here for your help. I thought I was doing alright. Now that I see it,” He shrugs and purses his lips. “It is more than that.”

So, he wants to suffer too? Before you can say anything snarky, you see the slightest shade of pink on the tips of his ears. There must be more to his answer to gain that color. An elusive answer that most likely won’t come up. Either way, you can appreciate his participation. It does soothe you to see that it isn’t just general studies that are working hard, there are some hero students with common sense. Maybe he’s giving you a little hope that you wanted to see.

Even if it is literally the bare minimum.

Little Ken falls asleep quicker than Noa ever did. While his child is sleeping peacefully, your little monster bounces around, tired and fighting the urge to sleep. You try to calm him and get him to be quiet, lest he wakes up the baby. Today must’ve been exciting for him since he got to bake a cake.

The cake! You stand up from the couch. "The cake! Wait,” You look down at Hitoshi who looks curious. “Um, do you want some?”

It’s Izuku’s cake but since he isn’t coming, why waste it? Besides, another birthday boy is here doing the bare minimum as a dad.

“Only if you sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me.” He wiggles his eyebrows, earning a laugh from you. “Whatever. I’ll bring it.” Noa follows you with his arms up. Carefully placing the cake on a tray with plates and forks, you carry it to birthday boy number two.

You set the tray down and give him a slice. He goes to take a bite but you stop him by placing your hand on his. “Hold on, okay? Gimme a sec.”

You get up and turn off the main lights in favor of the lamp on the table next to him. A shadow of a smile graces his lips. It isn’t a smirk or something mischievous, it’s genuine. It tells of something subtly sweet.

Walking to him, you sing happy birthday in a soft voice. Noa looks in wonder at you as you come near.

“Happy birthday, to you!”

He raises his eyebrows and pretends to blow out a candle. Little Kenji still rests and is now alive which makes you strangely content. This image is serene for some reason.

Hitoshi moans as he eats the cake. “Y’know, for someone who burns things, you can make a hell out of a cake.”

Bastard.

Noa licks some of the whipped cream. Before you can retort with a snap, Hitoshi’s phone rings. He sighs and unlocks it. “Mhm, on my way.”

“Duty calls, kitten. I’ll be taking this-”

“Nope.” You snatch the plate from his hand. “You need to be able to hold Kenji.”

Hitoshi glares then fades away and adopts amusement. He grabs Kenji and holds him awkwardly. You’re disappointed in yourself and how you caved and helped this bastard when you should’ve kicked him harder. The project is messing with you. Although you know you shouldn’t have helped, you couldn’t fight it. The baby was losing its life and parental instincts took over.

A deeper part of you whispers in your ear when you look at the cake again. The cream has little streaks on it from Noa’s tongue and Hitoshi’s finger. Some of the strawberries have been plucked off and eaten. The one who was supposed to eat this isn’t here. Spending time with Hitoshi and letting him have a slice was some form of payback against the man with green hair.

“Thank you…for everything. I promise I will be the best single father you’ve ever seen.”

“You better be.”

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

You turn on cartoons for Noa who is still waiting for Izuku. He’s adamant that his papa will come tonight. You sit and wait with Noa and have least managed to convince him to eat something other than snacks.

After a while, the tv gets blurry and your yawn is deep enough to let the water in your eyes not be ignored. You blink rapidly and try to get rid of the sleep that presses on you like a blanket that wants to tuck you in. Unable to fight it any longer, your eyes close.

“You’re still up?” You gasp and sit up from the couch. Noa pops his head up and runs to Izuku who is in his hero suit with sweat is on his forehead and dust on his shoulders. He gives Noa a quick hug. You side eye him and bounce your crossed leg. “Papa will be right back, okay?”

He stands and comes closer to you. “I’ll be right back, I swear.” He runs out, leaving a rush of wind behind. You clear your throat. “Happy now?”

Noa giggles as he dances and bounces in happiness. After rubbing your eyes, you go to clean up Noa’s mess. The bits of construction paper and macaroni litter the area. The brat tries to grab it all from you with a big frown on his face. “This is trash, honeybun. You can’t play with it.”

He presses his face to your legs and growls. That ‘ferocious’ noise he emitted from his chest turns to cries. “Noa, baby, all of this is trash. See? Over there are your toys.” Noa shakes his head and says no.

“I’m back! Noa, what’s wrong?”

The baby walks to Izuku with tears streaming down his face. He lays it on thick for Izuku. You roll your eyes and continue to pick up the trash. “You don’t have to clean everything up now. Just wait until he goes to sleep.”

“He has toys and paper over there. I need to clean this up.” You hear him sigh and say your name. You throw the junk away and walk back to the boys. Izuku pats Noa’s back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You take a deep breath. “Don’t do this. You can’t be soft on him like that.” In the corner of your eye, you see the plates that hold bits of cake and strawberries. Grabbing the paper dishes, you head to the trash can in the kitchen. Izuku follows you with tentative steps. “What’s that?”

“Your cake that you missed.” You toss the plates away. “Is that why you’re mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” There are small steps diagonal from you getting close to your space. He is silent for a minute then in a quiet voice he asks, “Can I try it? I’d like to spend my birthday with you, if you’ll let me.”

“You already celebrated your birthday, remember?”

“I’d like to do it with you.”

“I don’t have candles.”

“I don’t need them.”

You nod and tell him to go sit down in the dining room. You suck in your lips to try and stop the smile. The rest of the cake isn’t pretty at all and you probably should’ve stored it rather than leave it out for a few hours. Its quality most likely went down. No matter, this is what he gets.

You grab the last sets of plates and forks. In the dining room, Izuku waits patiently while Noa is clapping when he sees you come in. Izuku’s eyes light up and mimic Noa’s. Even with the cake not looking the best, that ball in your gut that spiked horribly with insecurity disappears.

“It’s your favorite so-”

“What?”

You shrug, trying to appear casual about knowing that. “I- uh, Noa and I- made your favorite cake. It’s not much. It was prettier earlier.”

He looks confused with his head to the side. “Chocola-never mind! I love it!”

You set a plate in front of him. “What were you about to say?”

“N-nothing!”

“Izuku?”

Hesitantly, he answers you. “Chocolate’s my favorite. B-but trust me, I’ll love this.” Your mouth drops. Hitoshi fucking Shinsou.

Hitoshi wanted to take a slice with him and he’s the one who gave you that fake ass information. You’d bet your left titty that strawberry shortcake is his favorite. Your hands start to shake thinking of the snake.

“I like everything you make…” Those words stop your hands. His kind eyes are enough to settle you down. “We still have one more thing to do.”

Just like you did before, you sing happy birthday. This time, Noa joins with his own version. Izuku, with the help of Noa, blows out the imaginary candles. You take a picture of the boys on your phone. Both have goofy and cheerful smiles despite the cake mishap.

After one picture a ding and glow in Noa’s belly signal growth. Your breath hitches as you see a boy that once looked identical to you, gain Izuku’s undeniable features. His face and eye shape is definitely from Izuku. Noa’s smile now matches the fluffy green haired hero. Your son’s skin that matched yours morphs into an even blend from both of you.

Noa genuinely looks like the two of you. Before, the similarities between them could have been argued. Now? Not a chance.

For the first and probably final time, you have reached a conclusion with Izuku. Despite your pettiness and you being a prideful, ornery, angry, brat, you come to realize that his kindness blows that away. It is a gentle and welcomed breeze that calms you. He went to his friends and a mission for his birthday but came back to you and Noa. You finally accept that Izuku is his dad. This isn’t to spit at Kaibara’s face. You now understand that it is reality.

You take another photo then switch to video for a special reason. “Izuku, can Noa share a birthday with you?”

He stares as if he didn’t hear you. Then he grins like a light is glowing inside. His green eyes shine with joyful wetness from the tears that want to come out. This is not happiness, a temporary thing that can be frayed, but joy. “ Yes! ” He picks his son up and spins around. “Hear that Bud? It’s our birthday today!”

Noa laughs with him. You record all of this, including Noa’s real sentences about birthdays and his papa. How you made the cake with him and something about heroes. All the while Izuku’s eyes are watering at his present and Noa’s immediate development.

You will keep this one for yourself and tell Snipe to kiss your ass.

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

As you eat Hitoshi’s favorite cake that happens to be sliced on a plate courtesy of his friend Izuku, you decide to bring up his names for you. It is something that you noticed and is becoming more frequent. With playful squinted eyes, you tease, “You’ve been calling me names, Deku.”

He swallows his bite of cake and furrows his brows. A bit of whip cream is on his face and the juice from a ripe strawberry is on his lips. He says it isn't his favorite cake but he sure is slamming down on it.

“I’ve never called you a name.”

“You call me ‘dearest’. Why?” He shrugs. “Because it fits.”

That makes you instinctively touch your cheeks with your hands. You are sure he noticed if his small smile and the light pink flush across the apple of his cheeks and nose is anything to go by.

It fits you. He thinks you are his dearest. It is his birthday today, yet this feels like a gift to you.

Happy birthday, Izuku and Noa.

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

You stop reading your book when you notice that there hasn’t been a sound other than even breathing. The two boys sleep on your bed, exhausted from the fun they had. Izuku’s face is covered with scribbly lines from the washable and some permanent marker. Noa still has his macaroni jewelry on him and a construction paper crown. He lays peacefully on Izuku’s chest. His little body dinged a short lullaby to signal that he is asleep.

You watch contently in your new chair that Izuku took upon himself to get for you. When he gifted it to you a few days ago, you didn’t point out that it is too big to fit in your room. Nevertheless, it’s perfect for this view and the relaxed ambiance. Your dim flower light on your desk shines as best it can and Noa’s hero light cube swings colors around. It’s peaceful. Beautiful, even.

Taking a deep breath, you continue to read the story. It isn’t a thick book at all and yet is rich with the story. In a soft voice, you tell the story of the greatest love there ever was.

“The dancing princess was distraught at the news of the fate of Ernest Appleseed. She vowed to never love again, to never sing or dance. Her feet will be forever planted on the ground with her beloved Ernie.

Years later, when she had grown from a little bud to a blossoming young woman, Honeycomb accidentally caught the eye of the arrogant King Pumpernickel,” Your eyelids begin to get heavy. Before you can read another sentence, you drift to sleep and into the meadow, just like the book describes. Several of the book’s symbolic flowers, four leaf clovers all around, and plush, green, grass underneath you grows underneath you.

Suddenly, Izuku makes a quick jolt in his sleep. You can hear him groan and squirm. You are too tired to stop your eyelids. As you settle, your quirk activates, not on its own, but by you.

You walk the mystical purple lane that smells of lavender, a calming scent. With one more step into the darkness, the creaking sound of a door echoes behind you. In the overwhelming darkness, you see the shape of his current dream. It is oddly shaped and glowing red. It pumps like a steady heart with a strange deep bass.

You try to knock on its fleshy surface without being sucked into its gooey softness. From what you can feel, the inside isn’t hollow at all. Without delay, you lay out your own dream. The purple mist encompasses his shell, his imagination line. You press against it for it to harden to Izuku’s shape in an attempt to crack it open. You give up on forcibly dominating him from the outside.

With clenched fists, your hand goes inside the gross red figure. The slime on it stains your body and nightwear like sticky blood. In no time, you are inside with a harsh suck.

You land on the cracked, dry ground. There is a thunderous dust cloud that heads towards the masses. Flames burn it from above with a scaly white hand. The hand puts itself on the greystone castle. Underneath is tremendous pressure that cracks its walls. You watch the hand grow black claws, leaving embers in its wake.

Although you weren’t there, this reads of a memory everyone in the world has. The secondary image of the wars that had raged against the world. They have always been something no one wanted to envision or experience. Now, you are here in what looks to be a warped first hand experience.

You want to rip this terror to shreds. To wipe away the horrors that Izuku is facing.

Green light surrounds him as he raises his fist to fight. “Izuku?” His world freezes. Even the air stills, the cracks in the ground stop growing and the glare in his eyes start to fade when they slowly look into yours. Your hand releases a purple film that spreads like weeds on the ground. It overtakes the cracks bit by bit.

You step on its rigged surface. “Don’t! You’ll-” Nothing happens to you or the healthy and plush grass grows underneath it. His chest heaves as he looks you up and down. Even Shigaraki looks confused, at least from what you can see.

He turns to you running faster than a bullet. Shigaraki’s hand now comes to you. Izuku, despite his speed, goes into slow motion. Your heart breaks at the pain he’s feeling. You extend your hand to meet Shigaraki’s to stop the decay.

“Don’t you trust me, Izuku?”

Tomura’s hand is covered in swirling purple until the flowers from the book sprout from his flesh. Tomura jerks away from you, sending his elongated hand back to him. Izuku looks you up and down when he grabs you. It goes dark for a second, just one second for you to see the symbolic and most cherished flower of the book blossom before you. Seven silky petals bloom surround a smaller bud that begins to separate and shows many more. The flower is thick yet delicate and beautiful. Once the flower matures, the darkness begins to fade.

He holds your hands in his. “Do you trust me?”

“Please, you have to ru-”

“Do you trust me to make you happy?”

He’s fast with his answer. “Yes.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I’m scared, (Y/n). I can’t protect anyone,” He taps his head against you twice. “You’ll fall-”

You touch his cheek. “ Trust me . Hold my hand.”

He closes his eyes. The purple mist thins and glows to a sharp ray that shoots up to the sky. Slowly, the shiny violet color encompasses the form of the dream. It spreads along the land, casing over every crevice. Meadows and beautiful trees plant along what used to be destroyed homes and people. Cars that were wrecked are now healthy horses and caved streets of pavement are now dirt paths and cobblestone. In the far north is still the threat of his nightmare. Tomura still reigns as a king with All For One hovering over him shaped like a dragon. His nightmare is still here, blended with your dream. You look down to see that you’re even wearing what Honeycomb would wear, and Izuku matches Ernie.

Outside the purple layer, the shell of your dream, is the surface of his. It formed into a ruthlessly beating heart that you slowly break from the inside. It shatters and leaves glowing red shards all over until some fade into black dust, while the rest solidify into the ground.

“What-”

“I will hold your hand. Just take it and trust me and mine.”

This dream is a whirlwind of twists and turns as he fights villains with a sword, not once killing anyone. Despite the brightness he has daily, you now know that he suffers from the guilt. You can’t take the source of the dream away, but right now, you’re holding his hand by being inside with him. A hand to hold is what he needed tonight.

The dream is coming to an end, you think. He holds your hands when he helps you down from the majestic white horse. His loose white shirt has dust on the sleeves and dirt on his green vest yet you don’t mind when you grab onto him. The sword he used to defeat Shigaraki and All For One who was painted as a dragon, is secured on his hip. In contrast to his nightmare of his supposed weakness, he grasped and used the sword to symbolically hold onto the strength he believes he lost and never had to begin with.

With beautiful twisted trees that grow flowers that wish to hang above the two of you, the picture is like the storybook you read to him. The book that you made sure to envision for a sweet dream.

You didn’t think he’d complete it himself. You didn’t finish the book since he fell asleep. So, as his warm hands encase yours, he leans in slowly. If you were awake, you wouldn’t have believed he would kiss you. That he succeeded in gaining one of the five legendary kisses described in the book.

He cradles your jaw and kisses you softly. Your eyes are wide, not expecting it. Your heart is beating fast. Out of instinct you want to pull away. The urge leaves when you question why you’re fighting it.

You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back. The birds sing a beautiful harmony as a tear streams down your face. Yes, it is a dream. But it is one for the ages. He may not remember you using your quirk and that’s fine. He may not even remember this dream and that’s okay, too! What matters is that he defeated the dragon in an epic battle with a sword he forged himself and took the king down without killing him.

What will secretly stay in your heart is the joy you feel. That he, on his own, is dreaming of kissing and saving you of all people.

“You’re haunting me, aren’t you beloved?” He whispers on your lips. His green eyes are slightly open and look into yours with great fondness. “As long as it’s you, do what you please.”

One arm goes around your waist and the other to your head. Your leg pops up and the sun begins to set.

Happy birthday, Izuku Midoriya.

taglist:

@candiiee, @moodyhuesworld, @4ishere, @dinorawrss, @js-favnanadoongi @luvrluvrr @imas1mpp, @bigchungusdrinksspritecranberry,

#bnha #mha #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #deku x reader #did i tag everybody?#q #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #deku #boku no hero academia fanfic #boku no hero acedamia #my hero academia #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #hitoshi shinsou x reader

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glowettee · 4 months ago

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little guide to journaling in 2025

hello lovelies!!! journaling is something so dear to my heart, not just for manifesting but also for documenting my feelings, thoughts, different events in my life, and different ideas i have, like blog posts or tips or new things i've read in books that amaze me. so here's a tinyyy guide for you guys to start journaling in 2025!!! yayyyy!!! <33 i'm going to be starting a journaling mini-tumblr series very soon <333

journal types:

gratitude journal

bullet journal

dream diary

art journal

manifestation pages

manyyy more

essential supplies:

pretty notebook

favorite pens

washi tape

stickers

highlighters

prompts to try:

daily highlights

future dreams

self-reflection

mood tracking

memory collecting

organization ideas:

monthly themes

color coding

index system

tabs & bookmarks

collections pages

creative elements:

pressed flowers

polaroid photos

ticket stubs

pretty quotes

seasonal decorations

pleasee remember girlies!! your journal is your safe space. there's no right or wrong way to document your journey - let it be as unique as you are.

don't worry about perfect handwriting or artistic skills. what matters is capturing your authentic thoughts and feelings.

writing with love, mindy

#journaling #creativity #selfexpression #minimal #that girl #becoming that girl #pink #it girl energy #self improvement #study tips #dream girl #girlblogger #girl blogger #glowettee #socialmedia #digitalwellness #mindfulness #boundaries #study inspiration

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crimsonxcloverr · 7 months ago

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writing this because everybody deserves some dale porn and i yapped about this idea before… also some of this WILL be in my fic! not exactly the same cause i don’t wanna spoil anything, but i didn’t wanna keep you guys waiting :) i did proof read several times, so if i missed anything, S O R R Y!

anywaysss, i decided to give you all a little something until the fic is released!

my asks are open! send requests or whatever you’d like! <3

ENJOY LITTLE ANGELS! i hope? :’)

NSFW WARNING (18+ ONLY): blasphemy, oral (f! receiving), fingering, size kink, degrading, praising, edging, minor satanism.

WORD COUNT: 1,897

DALE KOBBLE X FEM!READER.

THE POLAROIDS.

you’re getting ready for the monthly doll delivery for dale, but before exiting the basement, you stealthily take dale’s polaroid and head to the bathroom. he was too busy upstairs fixing ruth’s brown nun veil which gave you the perfect opportunity… you lift your pretty little church dress and snap a photo, smirking at the masterpiece as it develops. you nonchalantly place the camera back on his work table where he normally keeps it, putting the polaroid picture of your pretty cunt in an extra birthday card he had lying around.

you set the card where he can see it and head upstairs, standing next ruth as you patiently wait for him to fix your veil. he could read the look on your face, a look he’s seen plenty of times before— a mischievous grin and sly look in your eye.

“you aren’t so innocent under this pretty little dress, are you?” he whispers in your ear, wetness forming between your thighs already. your breath hitches at his words, dale booping your nose with a slender finger. he knew damn well you had no panties on. what a filthy fucking girl…

“okay, get going,” he sighs, opening the door and gesturing his long arm out for you both to leave and make the deliveries. you walk over to the car shed where he had his 1966 chevy caprice wagon parked. dale had already gone back down in the basement, his brow raising when he saw the birthday card. he peers over his shoulder as he opens the card, both his brows now raised when he saw the polaroid of your pretty pussy. by the time you took the heavy tarp off his car and set it aside, dale was already outside running towards you. you went to turn to see what his deal was and let out a gasp as dale threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes without warning.

“dale! you fucking jerk!” you hiss at him, his slender hand giving you a few teasing spanks as ruth watches, your cheeks turning pink from embarrassment.

“mm, little angel, i’m gonna have so much fun with you,” he giggles opening the front door and kicking it shut with his foot.

he takes you to the basement and puts you down, practically wheezing at this point. not because you were heavy, but because the multiple nose jobs fucked with his sinuses. he looks at you from under his brows while undressing you, your tits jiggling from the rough movements. he takes in your naked form, his sweatpants growing tighter and his cock aching for you. he lets out a pathetic moan, grabbing your tits and squeezing them in his large hands, his mouth connecting with yours. your cunt begins to throb, practically dripping. you were clenching around nothing, needing filled up.

“dale, please,” you beg, his kisses traveling from your mouth, to your neck, until his tongue began to swirl around your stiffened nipple, his index finger and thumb toying with the other. you moan softly and hop onto his work table as he continues to suck and play with your nipples. he was obsessed with your tits, always has been. the way they sat perfectly on your chest, how warm and soft they were, and how they ballooned when he squeezed you into tight corsets, straining against the garment ready to burst out. he pulls away with a soft popping sound and moans at your beautiful body. he pulls his orange wheeled chair over and sits down, another moan escaping him when your pretty pussy was now in front of his face. he looks at you from under his brows again, his slender hands pushing your legs up and holding them for you before inhaling your scent deeply. your was heart pounding, needing his tongue in you immediately.

“ooooh,” he whines before diving in, staring at your dripping cunt. he uses his two slender fingers, opening your lips, his breathing now heavier as he admires your tight, wet hole. he pushes your legs back some more and his tongue laps up your wet folds, pushing his tongue inside you. you moan loudly and push his face deeper into you, his nose rubbing against your clit as you grind against his face.

he growls deeply while tongue fucking you, his tongue feeling like wet warm silk as he laps over your cunt again. he flicks his tongue against your clit, gripping your thighs to keep you in place. “d-dale,” you whimper and moan, legs shaking while he devours you like a juicy peach, his gaze piercing through you. your core tightens and your clit throbs— you’re so close. he groans when he feels your hands gripping his curly locks, pushing his face deeper into you. he sucks your swollen lips before pulling away, smirking at how pathetic you look. “my pretty little nun,” he teases as you sit there completely naked with your veil still on.

“you fucking asshole,” you groan on the verge of tears knowing damn well this fucker was teasing. you let out a whimper as he grips your chin forcing you to look at him.

“ooooo,” he chuckles, gripping your chin tighter. “we have a mouth on us today, don’t we?” he growls as he pulls his sweatpants down, just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free.

he taps his thick cock against your throbbing cunt, trailing the tip up and down your wet folds, the two of you whining and shuddering. you gasp softly and look up at him, brows knitted and mouth agape as he slowly squeezes himself inside you, filling you to the brim. you moan loudly, your tight hole stretching to accommodate to his size. you clench around him tightly as dale pushing your legs to your chest, folding you in half like a lawn chair. he growls like an animal claiming what’s his, pounding in and out of you causing some of his work supplies to fall off the table. you moan like his own personal whore, his entire length buried deep in you as you took it like you were suppose to. you continue to moan, pleasure and pain coursing through you as his tip brushes against your cervix. you can feel yourself getting closer, your back arching and body shaking.

“please,” you whine as dale pushes on the back of your thighs for more leverage, pounding into you, the old table creaking under his rough movements. you cry out in pleasure, your climax so fucking close. you spit on your fingers and look up at him while rubbing your clit for more stimulation.

“my, my, you're getting quite worked up, aren't you? such a naughty toy, my little devil,�� he chuckles in a patronizing tone, letting out a grunt and groan, his cock twitching for release. “don’t cum, you know the rules,” he hisses at you, moving your hand away from your swollen clit.

tears of frustration began to fill your eyes again, your poor cunt throbbing for release, your walls convulsing like crazy. he growls as you squeeze around him, a plea to let you bust. you can feel his cock twitching inside you, his movements becoming for aggressive, pathetic whimpers and tight-high pitched moans coming from dale as he tries to hold back. he gently slaps, his curly locks dangling in his face as he glares at you from under his brows.

“i’m. so. fucking. close,” you groan between gritted teeth trying your absolute best to hold back. you watch as he shakes his head while biting his botched lip.

“i feel you squeezing,” he grunts trying his best not to nut. “be a good little whore and hold back. don’t fucking do it,” he hisses between his teeth, grabbing the polaroid camera next to you. “hold those pretty legs up for me.”

you moan trying not to cum, holding your legs open as he snaps photos of his cock pumping in and out of you. he whines and moans enjoying the sight through the lense, the images falling on your stomach. the way your wetness and his precum seeps out of your overstuffed cunt was too much for him to bear, causing dale pull out before you could finish.

“mm, fuck,” he moans loudly as he cums on your stomach, his large load spritzing all over your skin while taking pictures. he looks down at you and breathes heavily, smirking softly knowing you just want your release. “must be hard... being so delicate and fragile..." he whispers, his breathing still shaky while setting the camera down, his fingers trailing over your thighs.

he pushes his middle and ring fingers deep into you, letting out a high pitched moan as if he were mocking you. you whine and whimper as dale slowly fingers you, his thumb stimulating your clit. “f-fuck,” you whine while holding your legs open, staring down at his fingers that are working at you. you look back up at him with pleasure all over your face, your pussy squeezing his long fingers and your clit throbbing against his thumb. your climax starts to creep up causing you to arch your back and ride against his thumb as he fingers you.

“such a good little angel,” he whispers over your moans knowing it’ll set you off, his movements nice and slow so you can enjoy every ounce of pleasure. you let out a series of moans and your legs shake as dale pounds his fingers into you.

“fuck!” you cry out, your walls clenching and your clit throbbing uncontrollably as you cream all over his fingers. he doesn’t stop. he places his free hand on top of you pelvis and his fingers aggressively toy at your g spot which makes you squirm and shake, your moans becoming louder.

“there ya go, such a good little angel,” he coos, praising and taunting you while trying to get you to squirt. “make a mess for me. i know you can do it,” he groans loudly over your moans, coaching you through it. “that’s it… there you go sweet girl…” he whispers. “you’re being so good for me, but you know He’s watching too. make a mess of us.”

the urge to cum washes over you again, your whines and moans growing louder from desperation. you grip his teal tshirt and pull him closer, dale trying to pull away to keep his rhythm going. he wasn’t letting up until you exploded. you cry from the overwhelming pleasure, your forearms ready to give out and your legs still shaking. he pushes on your pelvis a little more after pressing the button on the polaroid for the timer. dale breathes heavily watching your movements and listening to the pretty sounds you’re making. he lets out a gasp as you squirt everywhere, your moans filling the basement once more and the polaroid snapping a picture of the mess inaction.

“you did so well, my little angel… i’m sure He’s so proud of you too,” he whispers while removing his fingers. he inhales your scent and sucks on them, watching you lay there on his work table completely spent. “now, maybe next time you’ll think twice before teasing me like that again and taking off,” he scoffs, tossing a photo at you.

it was the picture of your pussy that you placed in the birthday card.

#dale kobble #dale ferdinand kobble #longlegs x reader #dale kobble x reader

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thatfriendlyanon · 1 month ago

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five words for my march: projects, lonely, desert, spring, content

link to picrew

#monthly polaroids #elle rambles #happy nearly april everyone :)#oh gosh that means i've gotta get back into the headspace of writing poetry starting tomorrow whoooboy

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blehblehbleh735 · 4 months ago

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Get to know rapper!chris x singer!reader!!

SINGER!READER

Genre: pop, indie-pop

Similar artists: Madison Beer, Sabrina Carpenter, Billie Eillish

Albums and covers (coming soon)

Gained Fame: In 2021, Y/N started making music after her boyfriend cheated on her and their messy breakup, she put all of her feelings into songs and decided her new life started at that moment. She tested with sounds and one day she randomly posted them out of nowhere. Her confidence, however, skyrocketed when she only got maybe 1000 monthly listeners after about 3 months. She gave up and continued with life as if nothing happened.

In 2023, a beloved artist named Gracie Abrams, noticed her pathetic music and reached out. Y/N, much to her dismay, of course said yes when Gracie asked to do a collaboration with her. The song blew up on tik tok and other social media platforms and Y/N’s 6 songs soon started rising. Rooftops, a song about her ex, was #14 on the top 200 in the US. Gracie and her became good friends and Y/N got into song writing again.

Cute little headcanons:

Singer!y/n, who doesn't pay attention to rude or sexualising comments about her body but Chris does. When they're out in public and Chris hears someone say one thing about her, he’s practically on top of them and he’s not scared to beat the shit out of them.

Singer!y/n, who keeps a notebook full of random lyrics inspired by overheard conversations, half of which make absolutely no sense at all, but are oddly poetic

Singer!y/n, who insists on hand signing fan’s posters because it's more “personal” even if it takes hoursSinger!y/n, who will stop a concert mid way if she sees a sign or an outfit that she loves just to compliment that person.

Singer!y/n, who loves making up dumb tik tok dances to her songs just for funSinger!y/n, who’s fans are called the most ridiculous name. It started as a joke but now it's a part of her brand.

Singer!y/n, who takes a polaroid picture with her team before every show

Singer!y/n, who gets nervous before award shows, so Chris shows her his “pre game hype” which consists of terrible dancing and a not so helpful pep talk in a mirror

RAPPER!CHRIS (CHRI$)

Genre: hip hop, rap (obviously)

Similar artists: Playboi Carti, The Kid LaROI, Lil Skies

Albums and covers (coming soon)

Gained fame: Chris started his career more recently at the beginning of 2024. Because of the youtube channel, Chris didn't need to be famous for his music. About mid 2024, his music started to get recognized by more than just Sturniolo Triplets fans. Playboi Carti actually liked Chris’s music for what it was.

On Carti’s tik tok, he posted a video with one of Chris’s songs as the sound. Don't know how this made Chri$ more popular but his listens blew up hours later. 11 million monthly listeners quickly went to 30 in less than a month.

Cute little headcanons:

Chri$, who always kept his word, and has never done drugs, drank alcohol, or smoked a vape or cigarette in his life.

Chri$, who’s concerts are the most wild and fun thing ever. The energy in the sold out stadiums is exhilarating and the fans in the front row will probably not be able to hear anything else for days.

Chri$, who makes sure that you are always comfortable and happy no matter what you’re doing.

Chri$, who has your stuff scattered everywhere. He’s got hair ties on his wrist, your hairbrush in his car, and your clothes are all over the place.

Chri$, who once hung a pair of your panties on the rear view mirror in his car because the color “complimented” the vibe

Chri$, who never lets you pay for anything. This man will do everything and anything to make sure your card never sees daylight. Sometimes he steals your wallet before you even leave the car.

Fics to look forward to: (I obviously have not been busy)

Sleepytime - Chris asks Y/N to sing him to sleep one night

Model - Y/N’s manager needs to meet with her about upcoming tour outfits but Chris is not having it with her leaving

Noise Complaints - Late night studio sessions in Y/N’s apartment lead to awkward run ins with the neighbors

Pink Sweater Season - Chris borrows Y/N’s favorite oversized pink sweatshirt for a music video and the internet has questions.

Off Key Apologies - After a heated argument, Chris writes a very pathetic song as an apology but Y/N doesn't want to hear it

Mute - A mic on a live stream reveals way too much about how Chris feels about Y/N

Paper House - The power went out and the house is quiet so Chris and Y/N decide to build houses out of cards.

Stage Left - A surprise performance during Chris’ tour has the crowd cheering—and Y/N wondering where she stands with Chris

Signs - Chris finds an old playlist you made for him and realizes the feelings were there all along—he just missed the signs.

Second Verse - Chris struggles to finish a song about…love and how he hates to admit how much the second verse sounds like you.

REQUESTS!!

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brandogenius · 1 year ago

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katie x controversially young gf?🙏

hehehehe first katie post!!!! THE CROWD CHEERED

‼️RPF‼️

HC - katie x controversially young gf!

- has no shame in buying you stuff

- “you want this? of course honey”

- “i was told by jo i’m your sugar mommy”

- has no shame in spamming her ig stories with you / documenting your day out at the theme park

- say reader is a college student. katie picking her up from uni like “hi sweetie. have a good day?”

- “you give off soccer mom vibes”

- katie packs readers lunch before uni / makes sure to send them money on apple pay for lunch “so you can treat yourself baby”

- if she’s not working at the studio / on tour, she’ll come meet you for lunch! either at a nice cafe yall didn’t try yet or the one you both go to all the time

- reader giving katie like a small gift every monthly anniversary and katie has them displayed proudly in her room (say a card or polaroid or crystal etc)

- katie’s lockscreen is both of you on your first date :(

- she was a bit worried in the beginning just from the age gap (7 years 31&25)

- knowing you were comfortable it made her relax

- you were the one go initiate the contact. katie would only hold your hand at first but after kissing her first she letting katie know ‘this is fine’ she started to relax and get more comfortable

- staying up in bed, katie is reading a book on her lap and you’re studying for your upcoming exam. katie making sure you get to bed on time

- “you know what’s weird?” katie puts down the book, shifting her glasses onto her nose. “what?” you replied, lifting your head up from your notes. “i was graduated from highschool and you were still in middle school” (you better correct me if that’s wrong idfk american schools)

- going as katie’s +1 to shows, meetinf jo and naomi and both of them ‘take you under their wing’

- “we got you. consider us your guard dogs. we just protect the younglings” “is that even a word?” “it is now”

- always being teased by jo and naomi “you guys should get going. meemaw needs to sleep don’t you grandma??”

- reader who is someone who never really learned how to do makeup so you watch katie do it in the bathroom and she’s like “want me to do your makeup?”

- “you’re so pretty, sitting here patiently while i do your makeup honey

#pom writes #katie gavin x controversially young gf #katie gavin x reader #katie gavin blurb #katie gavin headcanons #katie gavin au #katie gavin fanfic #katie gavin one shot #muna one shot #muna au #muna blurb #muna fluff #muna x reader #muna angst #muna fanfic #katie gavin fluff #katie gavin angst

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malusokay · 11 months ago

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hi! i hope your doing okay, i just found your account about an hour ago and i love everything about it but i was wondering if you could explain the monthly ins and outs to me please? i dont fully understand it <3

Hii I'm glad you found your way to my blog haha <33

Ins and outs are pretty simple. You basically make two little lists, one for things, habits, hobbies, etc. that you currently find cool or want to do more of and one list for everything that "out," so things that you're not too interested in anymore, want to stop doing, etc.

I will give you an example of my current ins and outs :)

Ins:

acting, polaroids, mini skirts, cherries, long nails, sheet masks, long-distance friendships, brunch, brandy Melville, casual insta and photo dumps, being cryptic online, Kafka's letters, iced matcha lattes, Aquaphor, cardio, sleeping early, sunglasses, shit posting, if you do it I'll do it, fruit salad, Pinterest, posting for the girls

Outs:

replying to boys on Instagram, barbeques, cheap heels, jean shorts (I'm sorry), soda, late replies, long drives, shopping malls and overconsumption, doom scrolling, gossip podcasts, melatonin gums, good reads (the app needs an update pleaseee), amazon, trying on cute white dresses one to find out they are see-through, tiramisu, high waisted, kitten heels, private accounts

this is just what I randomly came up with haha, but I think you get what I mean. for me coming up with the outs is wayyy harder but it's a fun way to reflect a bit!! <3

let me know what your ins and outs at the moment are!!

#malusokay #girl blogger #ask malu

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iridescentis · 7 months ago

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blackrose hcs? Mayhaps?

fluffy hcs because they deserve happiness <33

I love the hc that they make friendship bracelets, I think they make them for each other on every birthday so they have tons now, Constance always wears as many as she can but Ocean keeps them in a box for safe keeping and wears the most recent one whenever she's not at school

Sleepovers have always been a monthly ritual for them since they were kids, Constance mum always organises them so Ocean can have a weekend away from home

Ocean used to come over for dinner once a week when they were younger (like elementary to middle school aged) and post-cyclone they start doing that again

Constance decorates everything Ocean owns and as much as she protests this, she loves it. All of the furniture in Ocean's bedroom and all of her school books and folders are covered in Constance's stickers. One time when Constance was playing with her brother in the living room after dinner, Ocean snuck into her room and put teacher style stickers (gold stars, well done! you're awesome! good job!) on her mirror. She doesn't notice until Ocean leaves and she tears up a little when she sees it

Ocean is in so many photos in the Blackwood family album. Constance makes Ocean a family album for Christmas one year with photos with the choir and the Blackwoods. There choir photos from practices, ones from previous holidays, random polaroids taken at choir hangouts. sneakily taken photos of Father Marcus while he wasn't looking, and a bunch of candid shots of Ocean being happy

If it wasn't already obvious with all these hcs, both of them express love through little gestures and handmade gifts, Constance presents things more outwardly but Ocean like to give them in secret (she has been known to slip things into her bag at school rather than actually give them to her face to face)

I hope these suffice!! :D

#im so not a hc person these aren't v creative #but i do love them sooo <333 #ride the cyclone #ocean o'connell rosenberg #constance blackwood #blackrose

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timeregistry · 6 months ago

Text

A Human's Touch (p.AI.nter x Reader) | Chapter 3

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

Notes: Imagine me putting these as drafts because I have NO time and just going "I will post this on this date!" Counting as I'm reposting from AO3 I don't want to flood the tag so I hope this is an alright schedule--

It’s been some days since you last saw the Painter. Even when meeting other subjects you just couldn’t get the stupid AI out of your mind. Even after Urbanshade made you use Z-432 once, the Limited-Time Imaginary Friend, you couldn’t get Painter out of your mind.

You even asked your new Imaginary Friend what you should do in which she only responded that she saw dead people. Which was weird because she gave you actual responses this whole time, which in turn made your skin crawl a little bit and made you ask Sebastian to stay near you until the Imaginary Friend actually disappeared (which he couldn’t do because he had his own curfew like a baby).

Apart from that, you started going to some of these interrogations without your white coat, leaving it in the previous room and only going in with your trusty notebook and some pens.

Somehow, the subjects were definitely more receptive to your questions. Of course, there were exceptions, there always was. There were so many that couldn’t form anything coherent or anything understandable. But generally, subjects were a lot kinder to you. They didn’t see you as yet another one of the researchers. Especially when you dress in brighter colours.

One time, you did your monthly checkup with Eyefestation and it commented on how it couldn’t recognize you at first. You remember asking it what it meant and it responded with how the colours suited you.

Perhaps the lab was so dull that the subjects liked seeing colours. Your white coat did cover a lot of your clothes after all.

Even Sebastian commented that you looked more approachable without the coat. You didn’t know what the coat apparently did with your whole vibe but apparently they were very “rancid”.

You sat down on your office chair, stretching your muscles. This was another day where you were alone in your office as Sebastian stayed busy thanks to Urbanshade apparently breaking all of their underwater machines (which he kept complaining to you intensely as he stole 3 different lunches. There has to be complaints for missing lunches, and why hasn’t anyone checked the cameras? Not like you were complaining).

You looked over at your desk, Painter’s folder still at the edge of it as you pondered once again about the computer. Suddenly, the realisation that listening to him when it told you to remove your coat in the end for questioning went… well? Rather a lot of the subjects were reacting a lot nicer and those that you did re-visit even complimented you.

Maybe… Maybe the thing that is missing with Painter is reward. ‘I’ll scratch your back and you scratch mine’ kind of vibe. Even if Painter has no back you felt like it would be nice to maybe find out a way to thank him.

But what.

You looked around your desk, there had to be something on here that can give you an idea. What would a computer like Painter find enjoyment in?

You tapped your fingers on your table, pushing yourself slightly backwards as you looked around. Even opening some drawers and looking behind you to see the folder’s among folder’s of copies of some of the subjects.

What can it be?

You looked back at your desk, completely stumped. Tapping on your head you tried to think up something, anything.

Suddenly your gaze went on one of the picture frames on your desk. It was one of you and Sebastian, well, Sebastian’s shape. Every time you would try to take a picture of him he would always move, blurring the picture. There was something humorous about how you warned him about the flash, he knew about the flash, even accepted his fate, yet still got completely scared when the flash happened. Maybe you should actually use your phone instead of a Polaroid camera and just print the picture when you leave for your short vacation.

But then an idea sparked within you.

A picture! A picture of the outside world!

That is what Painter will find interesting!

You got up from your chair in a haste, almost tripping on your way to open the door to your office and completely sprinting to your living quarters. A lot of your co-workers turned their head’s at your direction and asked what you were doing but you didn’t stop for them.

Getting to your room, you realised you got there in record time as you tried to catch your breath opening your door.

The moment the mechanised door opened you went to your drawer, opening it to get out a box.

Immediately you started looking in it, the box was filled with pictures that you took of the outside world. Places you’ve visited, places you like. They were normally for Sebastian as he was the one that wanted to know as he was never allowed to go outside. It was thanks to him that you started having physical copies of these things.

Moving more pictures around you found those memorable postcards, some that were from places you’ve visited. Some were even vintage that you found in one of those old shops and were just a complete steal!

Though nothing really caught your eye, you wanted something that felt unique, something different, yet you couldn’t really pinpoint as to what.

You scratched your head, leaning back on the floor as you took a deep breath. It was hard to choose.

Yet one postcard fell from the rest. A picture of your hometown. It was an older picture, being one that someone in your family gave you.

You held it in your hands… maybe… maybe this one is the one.

Standing back up you left your jacket, grabbing your notebook and pens as usual, stuffing the picture in between your notebook for easier carrying.

And so you made your way back into where Painter was stored hastily. This time. This is the time you’re sure to get a better reaction than last time.

You used your ID to enter the research lab that was studying Painter from the outside (among other things), walking through directly, you had a mission and you will do it.

The leader of the team saw you and walked directly at you. “Ah, I see you’re back.” Your co-worker looked at you a bit disapprovingly noticing your coat missing. “Don’t you think that’s a bit unprofessional.”

“Believe me that others have been telling me the same thing.” You sighed, “Not only is this for research reasons, so don’t question it, but I have to speak with Z-779 right now.”

Your co-worker raised a brow at you. “And for what?”

“I have an idea.”

They only sighed as they quickly notified the other researchers that you were going to enter Painter’s room.

For the time it took them to command a group to make sure you were being oversought, you guessed that it must have been a slow day. Perhaps seeing you suddenly was the most action any of them got in the day.

“I’m going to try to pause its mining for a bit.” You started.

“I’m sorry? I thought you were supposed to-”

“Trust me. I have an idea and if it works Z-779 might even work more effectively.” If Painter was interested in your picture then maybe this is exactly the reward that it can receive.

Though the moment the door opened to Painter, you suddenly felt doubt. Maybe you should’ve brought more pictures knowing you had so many.

“Hey, it’s me again.” You greeted the computer, sitting down in front of it as you’ve done the last times you saw it.

“And here I thought I would be free of you.” It spoke, you were surprised it answered so quickly. Even if it was just to insult you.

“I wanted to thank you.” You started, putting a small pause as you breath in. “I decided to start going in these things without my coat and the others have been responding quite positively.”

Painter didn’t respond so you took it as a sign to continue. “My coworkers don’t like it much but my friend says that I looked more approachable.” You knew Painter wasn’t stupid, but perhaps calling the other subjects your “friends” would make it easier. You then leaned back on the chair. “So thanks for the advice.”

“... whatever.”

You didn’t expect a response from it. But the response was nice nonetheless.

You settled your notebook down on the table, opening it to where you left the picture. A slightly nervous sigh escaping you as you wondered if this would even work.

“I actually had a surprise for you,” you started, “oh and you can pause on mining crypto for a bit they gave me the go-ahead.”

You thought of mentioning that in case Painter would stop but alas, it didn’t bother. You’re not even sure if the promise of a surprise peaked its interest.

“Can you turn on the webcam for a second? I promise I won’t be long.”

Painter instead changed his screen to show its face. His face was in complete disappointment as you continued. It didn’t speak, just stared at you. You took it as your sign to continue (and hopefully that it is watching).

“I know you love sceneries and as much as I want to take you up outside, I can’t.” You sighed. “But, I thought maybe seeing at least something might make you happy so…”

You pulled out the image from your notebook, showing it directly to Painter right in front of the camera.

You noticed it’s eyes widened, mouth dropping slightly.

“It’s a picture from my home, passed down to me.” You paused, wondering how to phrase it to make it even more attractive. You wanted to make it something a computer would find interesting yet nothing really came to mind except, “it means a lot to me.”

You almost wanted to ask “what did this picture mean to you” as you’ve done before with other subjects with those typical black and white shaped “illustrations”. But instead you stayed silent, letting the Painter look at it thoroughly.

After a while, you explained the actual place to it, the name of the place, what it meant to you, where the picture came from, etc. You kept the picture still in the webcam’s framing, or at least you hoped so, simply moving to the side to be able to see the picture as you pointed at some parts of it.

The Painter looked intently. “Can I…” It paused, “can I draw it?”

You never thought you would hear the computer hesitate, his voice completely different to how it was earlier with its snarky remarks.

“Yeah!” You smiled at it. “That’s exactly why I showed it to you!”

Painter’s face turned into a smile as you started seeing a sketch already on the computer’s drawing program.

You were surprised to see him actually draw in front of you. It was actually sketching the scene down. You had read in his document that it drew akin to an actual human artist but you didn’t think it would even do the foundations of the piece.

Painter even would move parts around, sometimes maybe even pondering as it would undo some of his strokes.

It was… incredibly impressive to see it happen in front of you. It felt like you were watching one of those speedpaints only that it was completely live.

Though, your arm was starting to get sore from holding the picture. “Hey, do you still need me to hold the picture in frame?”

Painter paused for a second. “No.” He said quickly. “I think I know how it is now.”

You nodded briefly, putting the picture down back into your notebook. Flipping to another page as you picked up your pen writing down your current findings.

Painter was completely concentrated in his drawing, not even noticing when you closed the notebook and got up from your seat.

“Feel free to continue into the night,” you started, “good night.”

A simple farewell that Painter didn’t respond to. You didn’t expect an answer, just like last time. But at least this time, you think the Painter is in a lot better mood than the last times you spoke.

Leaving the room, one of the scientists approached you exasperated. “What in the world are you doing?”

“Letting the Painter paint.” A simple answer left your lips as you put a hand on your hip. “My theory is that if we let Z-779 do what it does best, in theory it should have a better work ethic.”

“You are talking about a computer.”

“Did you never see those studies of employers treating their employees better which raised their work ethic?” You sighed, a dead panned expression on your face. “We are dealing with a computer who has personality, why not try it. Come on, it's just for a bit.”

The scientist only let out a disapproving sigh, but in the end didn’t complain more. You’re lucky Urbanshade gives you a bit of wiggle room with your job, it felt nice to be able to convince the other scientists that they had to treat the subject a different way because what they were doing wasn’t helping it.

You just hoped that your theory could work, not only because your job is constantly on the line because of your theories that could always crash and burn, but also for the sake of Painter.

#— a human's touch #pressure x reader #painter x reader #painter pressure #roblox pressure

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phanfictioncatalogue · 4 months ago

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Monthly Follower Recs

Monthly follower recommendations for the month of December 2024

blown again into instant flame (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Dan reappears in the corner of Phil’s vision, wearing the green suit.

I’m fucked, is all Phil can think.

Because Dan is awfully fit for someone stuffed bodily into a green morph suit. Even the way the hood squashes his curls down and out over his forehead is kind of adorable.

decaf coffee (ao3) - ShiwiSins (IetjeSiobhan)

Summary: Dan doesn’t know this is a thing they’ll be doing today until Phil is already naked on the bed, looking up at him with wide eyes, and he thinks, almost frantically, I want to put a baby in him.

Delicate (ao3) - easybubbyy

Summary: Phil reveals a hidden desire to be treated more femininely by Dan, particularly drawn to Dan's masculinity and how he looks in sleeveless shirts. Dan indulges Phil's desires, leading to a passionate evening of trust, affection, and deep connection.

Holding On For Just Tonight (ao3) - definitelynotczargasm

Summary: The night before Dan leaves for the American leg of WAD, he suffers a little crisis of faith. As always, Phil is there to help him through it.

i'd do me (ao3) - megiaolf

Summary: Dan is bored and comes across some saucy polaroids.

Impressions (ao3) - ottertrashpalace

Summary: Art museum guard who knows obsessive amounts about art history x nepo baby curator who has never read a book but keeps knocking it out of the park on vibes alone

Interrupted By Sirens (ao3) - SecretLlama_22

Summary: Dan is part of a mission leaving earth with destination of some far away galaxy. He doesn't mind really, leaving earth and all his friends behin. It's his job and he's happy to do it.

But one day they pass an inhabited asteroid field and the inhabitants cause a little trouble in his relationship to his fellow crew member Phil Lester. And, why did this space siren turn into HIM trying to seduce Phil?

Limerence (ao3) - cherryheartz

Summary: Limerence [ li-mer-uhns] noun

1 the state of being obsessively infatuated with someone, usually accompanied by delusions of or a desire for an intense romantic relationship with that person…

Phil Lester is popular. But Dan Howell is not. Dan Howell likes Phil Lester's raven colored hair and ice blue eyes. But so does someone else…

Love Comes Without a Warning (ao3) - beaniebopbaby

Summary: Phil Lester wanted nothing more than to find his soulmate, his other half.

Dan Howell could not care less about finding his.

of fated encounters and hand-made soulmates (ao3) - ShiwiSins (IetjeSiobhan)

Summary: He’s smiling at Phil, like this entire embarrassing scene is just the opening meet-cute of a low quality rom-com, and Dan dislikes him immediately.

Or: They keep running into the same guy. Phil thinks it's fate. Dan thinks he'd like to see him piss off.

our lips must always be sealed (ao3) - uhmyeah

Summary: dan and phil have silly tour sex

santa baby (ao3) - ShiwiSins (IetjeSiobhan)

Summary: “Tell me,” Dan purrs, “have you been nice or naughty this year?”

Or: Dan dresses up in a sexy Santa outfit.

Soccer Dads (ao3) - phantropolis

Summary: Dan accompanies Phil to their son’s soccer practice for the first time, only to discover that the soccer mums flirt with a very oblivious Phil in very obvious ways. Featuring jealous!Dan and their son, Jack, who is a surprisingly talented player.

the metaphors of desire (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: The elbow of Dan’s jacket is smooth leather, stitched on, an unexpected contrast from the woolly fabric around it. His mouth is soft and his body is warm and Phil breaks away with a choked gasp of air.

“Shit,” Dan says, and his big warm hand drops away from Phil’s jaw, and he’s gone.

(in which they're both english professors)

The Nightmare of Chemistry (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: Dan and Phil have amazing chemistry. They've built their entire lives around their dynamic. But Dan is lonely and decides to start dating to fill the desire in his heart - but everyone he brings home is too intimidated by Dan and Phil's connection. One day, Phil unknowingly gives him an idea that could change the game. Will Dan finally find someone comfortable enough to compete with what Dan and Phil have? Or will Dan have to realize that maybe what he has been looking for was in front of him the entire time?

The Very Thought of You (ao3) - thatgeekygirl13

Summary: His fingers whizzed across the black and white keys of the old piano. He smiled while sweat dripped down his brow. Dan had always felt like the piano was just an extension of himself, the music becoming a part of him.

The crowd clapped viciously as the final song came to a close. Dan smiled and looked up over the piano, glancing across the crowd. Then, right in the back corner, his gaze stopped on a man he didn’t recognize.

1940s AU where Dan Howell is a struggling, but talented pianist and Phil is a literature/writing/linguistics professor and they meet by chance at a hidden gay bar and really uhh hit it off idk I'm still writing it

#phanfictioncatalogue #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #dan and phil #fic recs #masterlists #followerrecs

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the-s1lly-corner · 10 hours ago

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Scrapbook (Easter ending 2) (Flyte x Reader)

Oouuugh I'm so so so tired hiss... grrr.. at least there aren't many Easter toons so as soon as they're done that's immediately less of a writing load I gotta worry about WOO

Notes: gn toon reader, still trying to figure out how I wanna write flyte so he might be ooc, poll at the end to determine the next winner, takes place during raster of course, wooooooo yeah, also as stated before there may be a break between the 7mih fics for a bit--- ill probably still update the easter line just so hopefully everyones done while the events still up but other than that!! gotta focus on the monthly flufftober batch!!

Word count: 2.2k

CWs: none

You push your hand in deeper… and all eyes are on you…

Your fingers wrap around something, and you pull out…

It feels like a book. That’s the most blunt way you would describe whatever your fingers were brushing up against. Smooth, but there were patches of a soft felt spread and scattered across the covers. Loose pieces of paper and ribbon stuck out around the edges and caught against your fingers, threatening to cut across your skin if you weren’t more careful. A sort of latch was somewhere in the middle on the side. The button was still slightly warm from whoever had last held it.

Curiosity got the better of you and you allowed your hand to find a firmer hold on the item- careful of the pieces sticking out of the book- and tugged it out.

The papers were actually polaroid, though the images they held were kept hidden and tucked away within the scrap book. Soft felt flowers decorated the teal covers, and you couldn’t help but let your thumb swipe a gentle circle against the material… it felt nice, and for a passing moment you considered asking the owner if they had a second book to spare- or if they could show you how they did it.

Scrapbooking wasn’t much your hobby… but the personality this book held certainly ignited some passing interest.

But… you had no idea who the trinket belonged to. For a moment you thought it could have been Goob- it wouldn’t be unlike him to put a craft into the sack… but the style… didn’t exactly scream Goob. Not the colors, or the simple design. Messy insides maybe, but that wasn’t enough to convince you… Perhaps Brightney? But the style still didn’t quite fit…

Flutter?

No… she had a diary- you’ve overheard other toons mentioning it.

“That’d be mine,”

The voice didn’t belong to Goob or Brightney- instead you were met with Flyte as he stepped forward. A soft “oh!” is all you could give in the moment as you awkwardly present the item back to him, which he takes with his wing. Where it was tucked away… you had zero idea. You didn’t even know his wings could bend like that… neat… you’ve never seen Flutter’s wings function like hands, now that you thought about it.

You’re pulled out of your hand-wing thoughts as Dandy cleared his throat to get your attention… you must have been staring at the holiday toon for a little longer than you meant to. A wave of heat rolled across the back of your shoulders as you bring yourself to look at Gardenview’s poster boy.

“Earth to Dewdrop?” He teased lightly as he leaned in a little closer to you. When you blinked at him and offered a mumbled response he snickered softly. His green hands clapped together as he stood right back up. His black eyes darted between you and Flyte… lingering on the butterfly for a little longer than they had rested on you… like he was sizing the toon up.

Flyte stood at least half a head taller than Dandy… you never noticed just how tall he was… actually… Was he the tallest toon? You’d have to ask him to stand next to Sprout when you had the chance, maybe after this game.

“Come on,” Flyte gently nudged you with the soft tip of his wing to bring you back to the moment. You had completely missed when Dandy was saying, but you were sure it wasn’t anything important. More than likely a parroting of the game’s time limit.

“Yeah yeah, coming-” You spin on your heel to follow after Flyte, who had already started making his way to the hall towards the gift shop.

The walk itself to the shop- which smelled strongly of flowers and chocolate- and into the open storage room was uneventful and quiet. You didn’t know what to say, and Flyte mostly seemed focused on getting from point a to point b- not that he seemed against spending time with you or the game itself. He simply had a tendency to focus on a task until it was done… or maybe he just didn’t know how to open up a conversation right now.

Regardless, you were the one to break the silence as you settled yourself across from him on the opposite wall. The butterfly carefully leaned himself back on one of the walls- mindful of his wings- and propped his foot up against the wall behind him as support. A “cool guy” pose if you had to describe it. Loose and casual, but there was some personality in it.

“I didn’t know you were into scrapbooking,” You commented.

The foot pressed against the wall shifted around slightly to find a more comfortable angle. His antennae flicked slightly in the air- actually… they hardly remained still. It was dusty, and you were sure the appendages were sensitive. It was probably hell to be in here for a few seconds, let alone for a few minutes. You inwardly cringe.

He lifted his head up to meet your gaze.

“I like being able to keep track of moments- it gives me something to look back on when I gotta go away for the year,” He took a pause. “Gives me something to put together too… it's not much but it's something,”

You hum in response and shift against the cold wall behind you. The room was… warm. Not quite summer warm, but there was a vague stuffiness and humidity to the room that made your skin feel uncomfortable. Almost clammy even without the nerves squirming inside you. It must have been raining a lot outside- even concealed indoors the wet air found a way to force itself into Gardenview’s walls. It probably didn’t help that this was the highest floor- at least… the only floor that was on ground level.

“So like…. Do you use your wings to put it together, or..?” You press on. The wings in question flicked and flexed slightly at your mention of them. They don’t make much noise as they shift… not that you were expecting them to.

“Kinda?”

“Oh?”

He tried to offer a shrug but the motion was awkward thanks to the lack of arms and proper shoulders.

“Sometimes Cocoa helps me glue and trim things, I’m in charge of the placements- writing with wings actually isn’t all that hard once you get the hang of it,” the tips of his wings curled slightly for emphasis. “Actually… it’s mostly trimming that I need help with… scissors… you know,” He added.

Of course Cocoa would have been the one to help.

“Neat,” was all you could really muster.

So he liked scrapbooking. That’s all you really knew about him other than the fact he was a holiday toon and he was related to Flutter. If you were being honest… Cocoa was really the only Easter toon you really knew and hung out with… but that was mostly thanks to her friendly personality.

It’s not that Flyte was closed off or guarded like some other toons were- you vaguely remember Bassie getting a little defensive once when you had asked if pressing flowers was her only hobby- Eggson seemed to only have hobbies revolving around eggs… and he was more than open to share his stories regarding his past wins in the egg hunt.

“I guess you and your sister aren’t all that different- I think she’s got her own little… book… thing she keeps up with-” You shifted around against the wall behind you. “...but I guess you already know that, since you’re her brother and all-” You quietly mumbled under your breath.

“Of course I know about her diary- we got the books together,”

He didn’t sound as irritated as the words may have seemed. Actually… his face softened- as much as it could when his eyes were the only real visible part of it.

Did he have a mouth?

For a fraction of a second you wondered if one could still kiss someone if they had nothing to kiss with- you excuse it by blaming the thought on the game.

You focus back on Flyte as he continued to speak.

“We could maybe go to one of the gift shop floors… pick you up a book too- if you want,” He added the second part quickly. “..you looked like you were interested,”

You drum your fingers against the wall… the skin of your fingers stuck uncomfortably against the wallpaper. Not long enough to keep you from pressing your hands against it- but short enough to keep you touching it in short bursts. Did the air conditioning in this room even work? The dust nearly felt damp as it caught against your skin and clothing. Your hate for the room was steadily growing by the second- the idea of ditching the party to go to one of the gift shop floors seemed so much more desirable than staying in here for even another minute. So much for trying to spend this time to try to get to know the butterfly a little better. You silently curse that most toons were designed without shoes. Escaping the muggy space was possibly your biggest desire right now.

“It’d just collect dust somewhere, I don’t think scrapbooking is really something for me,” You glanced at his face. You didn’t even notice he had leaned in just a tiny bit closer to you. Sure, he was still across the room from you with at least a few feet between the both of you… but that tiny gesture…

You tear your eyes away and offer a shrug.

“It’d be a waste, someone else could put the book to better use,”

“It doesn’t have to be just pictures, it can be whatever you want it to be,”

He lightly tapped his foot against the wall behind him. “Writing… journaling… you could draw in it, too- and I’m sure it’d look better than anything I could make,” He huffed a soft chuckled under his breath. “I can barely draw a circle,”

Your palms are nearly peeled off of the wall and loop behind your arms as they’re crossed over your chest.

“I’ll think about it,”

“Well, you know I’ll be here for a few more weeks,” He finally lowered his other leg down to the floor. He shuffled around slightly. “I could show you how I did the felt too, if that’s something you’re interested in,”

You nod.

“I was wondering if the book came like that or if you had something to do with it,”

“Came in blank… but that just means you can make it however you want,”

You roll the idea around in your head… you’d decide on a design of your own when the time came for it.

“Alright… I’ll swing by…”

Where exactly did the Easter toons stay when they weren’t tending to visitors? You… actually don’t recall ever seeing any rooms dedicated to them. Did Gardenview even bother giving them their own living spaces like normal toons? It’d feel cruel if they didn’t.

“I usually hang around Flutter’s room and floor,”

You nodded softly. “Right, I’ll swing by her room when I’ve got some time to go book browsing with you,”

And right on time as the conversation closed itself someone knocked on the other door. For a boring and mundane conversation… you weren’t all that upset over not being able to dig much on the holiday toon, or that no action took place. Maybe that was because it meant you could finally free yourself from the stagnant aired dusty humid room. You did not at all like the way your shirt slightly peeled from the wall and restuck itself to your slightly sweaty back. Maybe you should have just stayed in the gift shop itself… but there was nothing that could be done about that now.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get the dust from my fuzz,” Flyte muttered as he took in your own discomfort- and for a moment you felt like you got the long end of the stick. A shirt was a lot easier to mend than fur attached to your body.

“I can see if Gigi’s got a comb or something on her- it won’t… fix it, but…” You put your hand to the doorknob.

You… weren’t entirely sure if Gigi had a comb… but knowing her it was worth asking. Whether or not she’d cough it up though…

“Sounds better than trying to run my wings through it… they’re a little stiff still,”

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to take the comment seriously… but the image of Flyte trying to wrap his wing around any hypothetical comb didn’t sound… right.

“I could run it through your fuzz if you want,” You offered.

The door opened and you’re both met with Dandy. “About time!” He pushed himself off of the wall. You nod a greeting to him and muttered a hello before turning back to Flyte.

Dandy did not seem to like that all that much… but he didn’t cause much of a fuss as he let you both know the next round of the game was going to start soon before he himself left.

You both bask in the gift shop’s cooler air that could actually be circulated around.

“I wouldn’t mind that actually,”

“Good- now… we just gotta convince Gigi to actually give a comb to us,”

You were… not really looking forward to that but the half promise of running your hands through Flyte’s fluff- that admittedly looked really soft- was enough to give you enough to track down the kleptomaniac… and after some pressing you actually didn’t leave the interaction empty handed.

#x reader #canon x reader #canon x you #flyte x reader #dandy's world flyte x reader #dw flyte x reader #dandy's flyte x reader #dandys world flyte x reader #dandys flyte x reader #dw x reader #dandy's world x reader #dandy's x reader #dandys world x reader #dandys x reader

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