#nice little doodle to try and clear the mind

[greenflowerceo]

pros of a rooftop date: cute and sappy moment with boyfriend

con: slipper at risk of falling off

[daisymbin]

46. "you doodled hearts in my notebook again." with woozi :’)

ah!!!! so cute!!! thank you for requesting!! 🥰

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // jihoon’s m.list

fluff prompt #46: "you doodled hearts in my notebook again."

jihoon flipped open his notebook, ready to show the boys the new lyrics he'd been working on. the practice room was its usual chaos—mingyu rummaging through snack bags, chan tapping out a beat on his knee—but they quieted when jihoon cleared his throat.

“alright, listen to this,” he began, but the words caught in his throat when he looked down.

his notebook, usually filled with meticulous handwriting and carefully crafted lyrics, was now decorated with tiny hearts scattered across the margins.

“oh my god,” mingyu gasped, leaning over before jihoon could close the notebook. “again?”

chan burst into laughter, craning his neck to look. “that’s the third time this month, isn’t it? your notebook’s turning into a scrapbook.”

“it’s cute,” mingyu teased, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “you know she does it because she loves you, right?”

jihoon sighed, snapping the notebook shut. “can we focus on the lyrics?”

chan grinned, nudging mingyu. “i think he likes it, though. look at him blushing.”

“i’m not blushing,” jihoon shot back, his ears burning as he stuffed the notebook into his bag.

mingyu waved him off with a laugh. “whatever you say, loverboy. now, are you going to play us the song, or are we just here for show-and-tell?”

“the song,” jihoon muttered, trying to suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. no matter how much they teased him, he couldn’t deny how those little hearts made him feel.

later that evening, jihoon walked through the front door of your shared apartment, the soft glow of the living room lights welcoming him home. you were on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, flipping through a book. you looked up when you heard him, your face lighting up.

“you’re home,” you light up, setting the book aside. “how was work today?”

jihoon shrugged off his bag and walked over to join you on the couch. he sat beside you, leaning his head against your shoulder as the rest of his body melts against you. he let out a tired sigh, but there was something warm and soft in his expression.

“it was fine,” he said, glancing up at you. after a beat, a small smile crept onto his face. “you doodled hearts in my notebook again.”

your eyes widened, and you immediately covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “oh no. did the guys see?”

jihoon nodded, the memory still fresh in his mind. “mingyu wouldn’t shut up about it. chan either.”

“i’m sorry,” you said, though you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “i didn’t think they’d notice.”

jihoon shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “they notice everything. but it’s fine.”

you raised an eyebrow. “fine? you didn’t hate it?”

he let out a soft chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch. “hate it? no. i mean... it’s a tiny bit embarrassing, sure, but...”

“but what?” you pressed, leaning closer to him.

he glanced at you, his expression softening. “but it’s nice. it makes me think of you while i’m working.”

your cheeks flushed, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “so you do like it.”

jihoon rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “don’t push it.”

“you’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased, poking his cheek. “maybe i should add more next time.”

“just don’t cover up my lyrics,” he muttered, though his tone was light.

you let out a laugh, holding out your pinky.

he stared at your pinky for a moment before linking it with his, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“you know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, “those little things you do... they mean a lot. even if mingyu and chan make it their mission to humiliate me over it.”

you leaned your head on his shoulder, your smile softening. “you really think so? i can stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

jihoon’s eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head quickly. “no, don’t stop. i like it.”

you tilted your head to look at him, surprised by how earnest he sounded. “even if the guys keep teasing you about it?”

he let out a soft chuckle, his fingers brushing against yours. “let them. they can say whatever they want. it doesn’t matter.”

“why not?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

jihoon turned his head to meet your gaze, his expression warm and sincere. “because it’s you. and i love everything about you. even your silly little doodles.”

your heart skipped at his words, the quiet affection in his voice making your chest ache in the best way. you smiled, letting your hand slip into his, your fingers intertwining.

“okay,” you murmured, your voice teasing but soft. “i won’t stop, then.”

jihoon smiled back, pressing a light kiss to your temple. “good. because, i dont want you to. & honestly, i think i’d miss them if you did.”

and for a moment, the teasing and chaos of the day faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet comfort of home. the hearts you doodled might have been small, but to jihoon, they were reminders of everything he cherished about you—your love, your care, and the way you always managed to brighten his day.

[machveil]

the stuff you’ve written for gaz 🤩

I used to wish for times like these :,)

welcome to me slowly caving for all the CoD characters, I’ll be here all night⭐️✨

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick is the type to slowly fall in love with you, only realizing the click when he looks back through his camera roll. it used to be a little sporadic - photos of documents for work, a snapshot he took of his homemade dinner to send to his mom (he always says hers tastes better), a couple selfies with Johnny, Simon and Price side-eyeing them from the background. but after meeting you? he didn’t realize how packed his gallery had become

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick who lounges in his bed, cheeks pleasantly warm, holding the back of his hand to his lips. he browses through all the photos he’s taken with you, of you. scrunching his nose while looks over you doodling on a napkin, swiping right and biting back a grin, you holding up a silly little sketch of him. his heart beating a little quicker when he remembers he put that napkin in one of his tote bags, how it’s still in there. snorting when he sees a photo of you drenched from a sudden downpour, miserable scowl on your face. “Garrick, this isn’t funny! I was having a good hair day!”, he vividly remembers you pouting, telling him off when he laughed

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick whose pupils dilate when he watches a short video of you, a measly seven second clip of you trying to tie your shoelaces, hands fumbling as you laugh at he something he said. swipe right, a blurry photo of you standing up while giggling. biting his lip to hold in a laugh. his breathing evening out, smile gentler when he looks at the next photo. he can hear your voice so clearly, a scrape to his knee after taking a tumble in the field. he was so adamant he didn’t need to get it checked out, how, “It’s fine, I can still walk.”. he had mentioned it to his mom while calling her, just needed to send a photo to her so she’d stop worrying. of course you photobombed him, nearly falling backwards from squatting down too fast - trying to get into frame too quickly

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick who remembers it crystal clear, the both of you laughing afterwards. “Need me to kiss it better?”, looking back, maybe that’s when all the pieces fell into place. the last puzzle piece to his heart clicking in, it was a joke, but you sounded so genuine. Kyle who turns his phone off, pauses before chucking it somewhere into his bedsheets. staring up at the ceiling, mind swirling with you. maybe one of these days he’ll take you to a photo booth, something cheesy to make your eyes roll. maybe, someday soon, he’ll confess while timer ticks down, four sweet photos of you printed - one with your surprised expression, one of you hugging him with a dopey smile on your lips, and two of you kissing. maybe, he thinks, that’d be nice

[leighsartworks216]

You Have A Type, Don't You?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Based on this post

I wrote this instead of doing any of the work I need to do! I'm gonna go do that now lol

Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy

Word Count: 1,601

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your pencil scratched across the paper, drawing Astarion over and over again on a single page. This wasn’t anything surprising; you drew all of your companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel - they all had pages of their own, but it was usually only one drawing. Some had even posed for it. It was just a way to relax, and their faces always lit up when you showed them, even if they tried not to show it.

Everyone needed a break from fighting and exploring day in day out, so you decided one more day here wouldn’t hurt. As such, you’ve spent the better half of the day just drawing. At first it was little doodles of Scratch, but then you realized you hadn’t drawn the vampire spawn yet.

Most of the expressions you captured came from memory. You’d occasionally sneak a glance for quick reference, pretending to stretch or get distracted by some birds. But at some point, he’d disappeared from camp. You just assumed he’d gone off hunting.

That assumption was proved quite wrong when a voice tsked over your shoulder, almost directly in your ear.

Startling away from the sound, you whipped around to see Astarion crouched down. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and settled down into a full sit on the ground.

“It seems someone is infatuated,” he teased. “So who is it? Someone we saved from peril, perhaps?”

Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.

You cleared your throat as your cheeks warmed and smiled. “Y-Yeah, something like that.”

He chuckled. “Come on, darling, there’s nothing to be shy about. Spare none of the juicy details. What’s he like?”

“He’s, well,” you stammer, “he’s interesting.”

He scoffed. “That’s hardly juicy or a detail. Or is he just another pretty face?” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your drawings. You wanted to pull them away and hide them, but why? All the others had drawings done of them, and you loved showing it off when they were done. Why was this any different?

“No, he’s a lot more than that,” you admit quietly. You weren’t good at lying - usually Astarion took the lead any time you had to - but maybe if you didn’t tell a complete lie… “He’s funny, charming. His laugh lights up my world. He’s had a rough go of it, but he doesn’t like it to show.”

“He must like you if you know,” he hummed. Your heart leapt into your throat as he pointed to the pin pricks drawn on the neck. “Is he a vampire, too?” He chuckled, but it sounded strained. “You have a type, don’t you?”

You scoffed even as warmth flooded to your cheeks. “No! I do not have a type.”

“No, of course not,” he played along. “Certainly not for creatures of the night who bite into that pretty little neck of yours.” Despite his smile, there was a tension in his eyes. “I don’t mind, dear. I’d be more than happy to scrounge around some nights so you may indulge your new lover.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Astarion,” you assured. “He’s not… We’re not together.”

“No?” You shook your head again. He opened his mouth to give you advice or console you, but you cut him off. It was better to end this fantasy now, before it began to hurt too much.

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you shouldn’t be sneaking around so you can look over my shoulder. I could have been drawing something terrible.”

He laughed. “All the more reason to risk a peek. You’re so good, it would be nice to know you can be tempted.” Then he scowled. “Unless it’s something terribly dull. You deserve much more than missionary.”

If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…

“In any case, I was only wondering when you’d draw my portrait. You seemed more than happy to provide the others with a likeness. And…” He looked past you, seemingly far away. “I haven’t seen myself in two centuries. One gets curious, especially when you’re as vain as me.”

If he heard your heart start racing, he didn’t comment on it. Drawing him would make him realize it wasn’t some other vampire crush you were drawing. But, it had been a while since your adventure began, and you’d drawn everyone else. You swallowed down your anxiety. “Yeah! Of course! Did you wanna pose, or anything?”

He blinked and suddenly he was back in the present. A sly smirk covered up whatever emotions could be lingering on his face. “If your little vampire friend doesn’t get too jealous. I would actually like if you could draw me just,” he paused, “smiling. It would be nice to know what everyone else sees. Make sure I’m not off-putting, you know how it is.”

Once he was sitting comfortably, you turned to a fresh page and began drawing. The paper was hidden from his view, but he watched as your hand, wrist, and arm all moved in tandem like a clock’s gears to create an image. Your eyes moved between the sketch and him multiple times. Sometimes you’d glance up and draw for almost a minute. Then other times you kept going back and forth, constantly checking for reference.

Watching you work was fascinating. All your surroundings faded away. Karlach being her usual loud self, Wyll dancing, Gale cooking, Lae’zel sharpening weapons - nothing could turn your attention from him. He almost felt subconscious with the intensity of it. Your eyes studied him, taking in every single feature, and translated it to your journal. What did you see when you looked at him, he wondered. What did the world see? It had been so long, he couldn’t even remember his face. All he knew was he was attractive.

With a final few marks, brushed away to blend them into the rest, you looked down at your masterpiece. You were so caught up in the drawing you forgot why you were hesitant before, but now that Astarion stared at you from two different angles, your anxiety came back full force. There was no way out of this.

“All done, dear?”

You smiled shakily up at him and turned the journal around. His face scrunched up in confusion. When he met your eyes, he was decidedly unamused. “Darling, if you’re going to draw your fleeting fancy, don’t trick me first. I know it’s hard to see past the depraved bloodlust, but we don’t all look alike, you know.”

“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”

While you fought to find words, Karlach picked up the slack. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted across the camp, “IT’S YOU, FANGS!”

Dread washed over you. You closed your eyes. If a merciful god was going to kill you and rid you of this embarrassment, now would be the time. A bolt of lightning, perhaps. You’d even welcome decapitation.

You risked a glance when you felt your book being tugged carefully from your hands. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open as he tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Gods, now he was going to leave camp. You buried your face in your hands. He was going to pack everything up and leave before the sun even touched the horizon. And you’d never see him again. Maybe you’d go find Cazador yourself, just to kill the bastard.

“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”

You inhaled deeply and lowered your hands, but you couldn’t bear looking at him. He could stab you with his dagger and you’d apologize to him for it all. Hell, you’d let him drink you dry if it meant leaving this all behind you. “You’re very pretty,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t know how to ask, and just- You can rip the pages out, burn them, whatever makes you feel better. And if you leave, I won’t blame you or chase after you or-”

“I’m not upset.” Your head never shot up so fast. “Well, a little. You’re not subtle when you stare, you know. I thought you were just uncomfortable being around a vampire, but this…” He turned back to the portrait you’d just finished. “This is really what I look like?”

You swallowed away a small portion of the shame. At least he wasn’t running away. “As best as I can capture you, anyway. Y-You’ve got these sharp eyes, and your hair curls around your ears, and you get little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you laugh - and I just like drawing you.”

The page flipped over again. The page of expressions, capturing everything you described. When he smiled full and bright his fangs were on full display, accented by the laugh lines on either side of his mouth. And the puncture wounds on his neck…

“Ah, so when I said you had a type…” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold as much warmth as usual.

“Your laugh does light up my world,” you admit. His red eyes were on you in an instant, flickering over your whole face. “Just, for the record.”

He glanced at the drawings once more, contemplative. Then, he held the book back out to you. “I wouldn’t be… opposed to trying this. Whatever this is.”

You reached out to take it, but he pulled it away. “But, no more sneaking glances across camp when you want to draw me. I would be delighted to model for you again, in any pose your sweet heart can concoct.” He held the book out again. “Deal?”

You grabbed onto the book, finally relaxing as you smiled. “Deal.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @mjmygd @flsalazar @thedevilssinner @marina-and-the-memes @softempest @rebeccasship @pinkishredlemonade @faeoran

[rivvyribbons]

have some of the step 4 qiu design predictions i doodled!! yapping down below

okay okay so!! i think in terms of fashion, qiu would stay somewhat similar maybe? experimenting with different styles here and there but like.. i think i can only pry away that puffer jacket from their cold dead hands

their fashion is pretty consistent over all, actually!! dark jeans + sweater (in step 2 + step three, its a white sweater with a pattern thrown on) and that bomber jacket once more

i think the factor of their appearance that they experiment with the most is with their accessories and hair!!

their hair is very, very important to them. in all steps, it's never goes above their jaw. and in step 3, it even goes somewhat down to their stomach!! most of their hairstyles however are very low effort, something you can do quickly (high pony, low pony, half up half down)

i imagine in step 4, they'd try to change it up with something that takes a little more time. maybe pins, claw clips (inspired by this). i think it wouldn't be too far to say that maybe they'd dye it a lighter color, or add some highlights!!

honestly, their accessories seem pretty consistent too. fingerless gloves, chokers / necklaces, earrings! maybe they would borrow some of their mom's jewelries (she's seen wearing rings and earrings!!) her accessories are gold, which is nice because its their favourite, but i can see them leaning towards silver jewelry as time goes on!!

i can also imagine that they would try out riding a motorbike instead of their usual bike (inspired by this). black or grey helmet with accents of gold!! it just makes sense to me -- its a way for them to clear their mind without having to use their phone and its something they can do alone!

although gold is their favourite color, i thought it'd make more sense to add it little by little instead of putting it everywhere. less is more yadda yadda

i wanted to do tammy in the same post but honestly she is not as predictable as qiu </3 but i love her and i will struggle for her

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Okay, I can do an addition to 🫶 anon?

We've all seen Stan's little doodles here and there, plus the fact that he wanted to draw as a kid. Now imagine if he wanted to train at drawing/painting? Like he take you as a model, he make you pose for hours (naked or not I don't know) and firstly he can take his time appreciating your body, plus it make tension build up? I just like the idea of him drawing with paper he found in the printer and some cheap pencil.

-🎩 anon

oh my god anon you don’t even know what you’ve done by saying that!!

i got a little carried away. btw warning nsfw themes but not too much

Stan once dreamt of drawing comics, you know. just said it offhandedly one night, over a gas station hot dog and a beer stolen from the back of a tourist’s cooler. “used to wanna be a comic artist. made a whole strip once, you know, uh . . . lil’ Stanley. yeahh that's the name.” as if it wasn’t the softest fucking thing you ever heard?

so what do you do when you learn your lover once wanted to become some kind of an artist? when you find out that he often stayed up late while Ford was sleeping, scratching out little heroes on sheets of paper, dreaming of newsprint and panels? you ask to see his drawings! of course you do. you say, show me, and he shrugs “nahh baby, c'monnn, it’s silly” but inside he’s so thrilled. embarrassed as hell, sure, but thrilled. because who asks to see his art? when was the last time he even heard that a person was interested in his hobby?

one day though, without ceremony, Stanley says “c’mere. wanna try something”

it’s printer paper, maybe even a few recycled flyers from the mystery shack gift shop. a mechanical pencil he probably swiped from Dipper’s backpack. but his hands are steady, just like when he was ten, brow furrows in concentration.

he’s pretending it’s no big deal. “nah, just practicing,” he’ll say, trying to make a look like he’s just killing time and you just so happen to be there. but you’re smart, you catch how he keeps stopping and just looking, pencil paused mid-air. Stanley's throat bobs when your robe slips a little lower on your shoulder. how he mumbles to himself, “shit, that’s sexy, yeah. goddamn, okay, hold still, sweetheart.”

it's so rare though, id say Stan actually. . . never asks you to pose after that. not properly, at least. he just watches you doing your every day things. sprawled on the couch reading. curled up in bed stretching your legs. sitting at the counter, elbows tucked in, licking raspberry jam from your thumb. that’s the moment yes, Stanley reaches for that scrap paper and suddenly the world narrows into the curve of your neck, or the dip of your hip under a too-thin shirt, or the slope of your spine as you bend forward to pull your hair back into a ponytail.

eventually Stan does ask you to pose but goddamn he's so shy and desperate “hey, uh so don’t think im bein’ weird, but could you— stand over by the window for a sec? no reason. jus’ y’look nice with the light behind you. fuck. never mind. or wait, actually, would you mind stayin’ there?” his voice gets a little strangled when he asks you to hold a pose. especially when you’re not dressed. or when the hem of your nightshirt is riding high on your thighs. his gaze flickers from the page to your skin, back and forth, trying to memorize every shadow your body casts.

he gets frustrated, too. growls a little. mutters that he’s “never been good at hands” or “can’t get your eyes right” and when you tilt your head, teasing, “oh yeah? show me what’s wrong” Stan awkwardly flips the paper around. too shy. sweating over it like it’s the mona lisa. for him it is though.

ohh yes the tension you are so right anon. it builds with every time he pauses and squints, then clears his throat and tells you to hold still, please, you’re shifting too much. you tease him for how serious he’s being. “you gonna sell this one?” Stan rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling like a kid, his knee keeps bouncing, trying not to crawl onto your lap and kiss your gorgeous face raw.

he literally stares at your chest for a full minute under the guise of “sketching” but ugh then he awkwardly moves in his chair and. . . then has to loosen his belt because wow! it’s too hot in here all of a sudden. and god help him if you’re naked. his baby, you, trusting him like that? he’s dying the whole time, cock twitching in his boxers. Stan is trying to stay composed because he really wants to finish the drawing, but his pencil keeps slipping, eyes keep trailing lower. and then fortunately for you you hear, “sweetheart, if you keep lookin’ at me like that i aint gonna be able to finish this picture without makin’ a fuckin’ mess of myself”

“aw, fuck,” eventually leaves his mouth because Stan can’t keep going. you’re too pretty. too much. every time he tries to draw the curve of your belly or the arch of your spine, he has to pause, squeeze his eyes shut, and take a deep breath, because the urge to reach out and touch you is consuming him from the inside out.

so yeah. . . practice can wait. sometimes.

the drawing stays half-finished on the counter, and you end up pressed between his chest and the bed pillows, breathless and smiling into his shoulder. later, he’ll pretend he was never that into it, toss the sketch aside grumbling ”it doesn’t matter, sweetie, i’m literally talentless” but you’ll find it weeks later, folded in a drawer with your silhouette scrawled in clumsy lines and his handwriting in the corner “my pretty baby”

because you’re his muse

[cardo-de-comer]

Currently in game dev as a student and I’ve been looking over your art and concepts for a little bit now—I’m FLOORED. I haven’t checked on your art in a while and had forgotten just how much it inspires me.

Your style holds so much identity, and your skill bleeds through every brushstroke! The way you do silhouettes, the insanely unique and beautiful choice of colors, the ferocity in some of the expressions, the quality of your brushwork, again the USE OF SILHOUETTE AND FORM OH MY GOODNESS!!!

You have SUCH a striking visual style and the way you incorporate similar themes to tie character designs together in your world is incredible! I was able to pick out what I believed to be symbolism and understand it a few seconds after asking the question (it may have been explained in the text and I missed it, but the fact that I was able to draw a conclusion that quickly says a lot about your skills as a designer and artist!).

Please forgive me if this has been asked before by the way, but what program do you use? I have a number of them and am trying to work out how you managed to get the line quality that you do on the brushstrokes (they’re like. Creamy looking??? Does that make sense? They blend together very nicely but don’t blend so much that it muddies the contrasting colors you put on top.)

Anyways as I was reading the game idea you have, I was actively trying to envision how it would look and was immediately feeling a 3D-2D mixed style, especially since your artwork has a very clear visual identity that would benefit from being the focus rather than something like plain or simplistic 3D models.

And then I immediately stumbled onto the low poly model you made and fell in love. I had already thought a Disco-Elysium inspired + low poly (less development time, plus requires less budget for an indie project) would look amazing especially considering how your brushwork means that high-poly models might not benefit nearly as much from it. And I think it might be the right call to continue with that!

What perspective (2D/platformer, 2D platformer with depth [Ex. “Paper Mario”] top down, isometric, 3rd person, 1st person, etc.) do you envision when you think of your game idea?

Personally I feel like it’d work as a 3rd person perspective 3D game, but using extremely low poly buildings and set pieces that let the textures do the work. But keeping in mind that if every character is 3D and rigged, it can and will still take monumentally more time to make.

I could also see it going the direction of having flat 2D characters in a 3D environment (Like “Smile For Me”) which would take less development time and save more energy to focus on good gameplay.

I’d love to hear more about your ideas, and think that you should definitely give more thought to making that game a reality!

Just as a word of advice though, start small. ;^^ Don’t begin with your dream project, make some goofy little games first to get your feet in the water, then dive in once you have that experience. And don’t get too wrapped up in it either, take breaks and divert from the project every so often to regather your creative energy. Like doing game jams for example!

o7

first of all thank you for such a LONG text oh my god T_T I cannot express in words how much this means to me and even if I knew English well, I still wouldn't be able to tell you... I use drawpile a lot for sketches and light stuff like doodles! And Photoshop for more complicated works and render. If you need brushes I have them in this post on my side acc. As for ynstbh, well... Here goes the rambling haha. I was thinking about it being either 2d platfomer /LISA was my main inspiration at the start/ or isometric 3D thing. Isometric still wins in my head because it gives some space for movement in different planes, if that makes sense, my favorite example of it being player is walking through the City and at some point you see a tower on a foreground plane just getting up and running off the screen to ambush you later haha (yes, the City is like that. nothing unusual here). When this game idea first appeared in my head, I also wanted it to have some kind of frame, medieval-inspired, around the gameplay, that would change drawings depending on the location. But now I think that's gonna be too much visual noise. And I would love to make cutscenes because I like my 3d models and I like to animate stuff, although it would take an abysmal about of time to make backgrounds.. Also ynstbh would probably have a lot of dialogues, since I really love to show characters through their interactions with each other. Notably the Devil, who loves to break the 4th wall and look right at the player in his portraits.

Either way yeah, I know about starting small. Right now I only have experience in drawing, 3d, just a little bit of code (I think I forgot everything actually lol) and I'm just really good at googling problems. I hope somewhere in the future I will have enough energy to start. My lore and characters became really important and dear to me so I really hope to make sth with them. :) If game doesn't work out, I'm thinking to give an animated short a chance, I need to put this world somewhere or I'll probably go insane. Once again thank you and good luck with your studies! thanks for letting me ramble about ynstbh haha <3

[aspenmissing]

Study session with Jayce x Reader. Where Jayce accidently sees Reader's little doodles of him on her study notes. One of them has the side note "....his bum is quite nice though". Poor Jayce is flustered as hell and don't know how to unsee it :=))

ᴄᴜʀɪᴏꜱɪᴛʏ ꜰʟᴜꜱᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ || 1513 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴ/ᴀ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ꜰᴜɴɴʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ. ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴɢ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴏɴ, ʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ɢᴏᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ - ᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ "ᴏɴᴇ ᴏᴜᴛꜰɪᴛ".

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ

The soft glow of the lantern illuminated the cluttered desk, where two sets of books lay sprawled out alongside scattered papers. Y/N sat at one end, furiously scribbling notes, her brow furrowed in concentration. Across from her, Jayce was equally absorbed in his own work, flipping through pages of formulas, diagrams, and notes of his own. The quiet hum of the room was the only sound, save for the occasional rustle of paper.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Y/N said, pushing herself out of her chair. “I’m just going to grab a quick snack.”

Jayce nodded absently, engrossed in his equations. As Y/N stepped out of the room, Jayce took the opportunity to stretch, his eyes falling to her scattered papers on the desk. His curiosity got the better of him, and he absentmindedly picked up one of her sheets to glance at her notes. His eyes scanned through the familiar symbols and scribbles, but then something caught his attention.

A little doodle, clearly meant as a lighthearted distraction, appeared on the corner of the page. It was a sketch of Jayce—well, his face was more of a rough outline—but the body was unmistakable. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the words written beneath it:

“...his bum is quite nice though.”

Jayce froze, staring at the words for a moment longer than he intended, his face flushing an embarrassing shade of red. He quickly set the paper down, glancing nervously toward the door, as though Y/N would walk back in any second and catch him mid-mortification.

What the hell had he just read? What exactly did that mean?

Before he could process much further, he heard Y/N’s soft footsteps approaching, and he quickly shoved the paper back in place, trying to look casual—though his cheeks were still burning with heat.

Y/N returned with a tray of snacks—some fruit, cheese, and pastries—placing it down beside him. She smiled brightly, oblivious to the chaos going on in his mind.

“Got us something to nibble on,” she said, picking up a piece of fruit. “You look like you’re deep in thought. Everything okay?”

Jayce cleared his throat, trying to act normal, but his voice was a little too strained. “Yeah… just, uh… just thinking about some of these equations.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing something was off. “You sure? You look a bit… red. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

“Not at all,” Jayce said quickly, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Totally fine. Just… the numbers, you know?”

Y/N grinned, sitting back down and picking up a pastry. “Right. Sure.” She glanced at her notes, but Jayce quickly shoved them aside, nervous that she might find the incriminating doodle.

As they returned to their work, Jayce couldn’t help but steal an occasional glance at Y/N, his mind racing. What did she mean by that note? And why, oh why, was he suddenly so aware of every little movement she made? He desperately tried to focus on the formulas in front of him, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the simple, yet profoundly awkward words: “his bum is quite nice though.”

Meanwhile, Y/N, entirely unaware of the havoc she'd unintentionally caused, simply smiled to herself, feeling rather pleased that she’d finally managed to get him flustered—though she didn’t yet realise how much she’d gotten under his skin.

As the study session continued, Jayce struggled to keep his composure. Every time he glanced at Y/N, a little part of his mind flicked back to the doodle. It was ridiculous—so ridiculous—but no matter how hard he tried to push it aside, he couldn’t shake the image of her drawing.

Y/N, on the other hand, was completely engrossed in her work. She didn’t notice Jayce’s occasional glances or his flushed cheeks, too focused on sorting through her notes and trying to make sense of the complex theory they were tackling. She hummed softly to herself, completely at ease in the shared silence.

After a few moments of awkward tension, Y/N finally looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Jayce’s unusually tense posture. “Jayce… you’re acting weird.”

Jayce jolted in his chair, nearly knocking over a stack of papers. “What? No, I’m not!” He gave an exaggerated cough. “Just, uh, you know—concentrating really hard!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “Right. Sure. Concentrating, huh?” She grinned slyly. “I don’t know, you’ve been a bit... jumpy. Is something on your mind?”

Jayce's mind raced. He couldn’t let her know he had seen her notes. No way. But the words kept echoing in his mind, and it was getting harder and harder to keep up the pretence.

"Nothing's on my behind—mind! Nothing is on my mind!" he corrected himself quickly, the words spilling out before he could even think them through. "Just… equations. Really complex equations."

Y/N chuckled, clearly seeing through the lie. "Uh-huh, equations. I see." She stood up suddenly, grabbing her stack of notes, and walked around to Jayce’s side of the desk.

“Let me help with those,” she said, taking a seat next to him, her shoulder brushing his. Jayce froze, his heart racing as she leaned in closer to examine his notes.

Y/N didn’t notice the way his breath hitched at her proximity. Instead, she focused on the scribbles on his paper. “This… this doesn’t make sense, Jayce,” she said, pointing to one of his diagrams. “You’ve got this part backwards, see? You need to reverse this variable, or it won’t work.”

Jayce nodded, trying to calm his racing thoughts. “Right, right… thanks. I—I was just, uh, double-checking it.”

Y/N glanced at his notes, flicking through a few pages before her eyes landed on the paper she’d been working on earlier. She paused, her gaze drifting to the very doodle Jayce had been trying to ignore. The one with the side note.

She blinked, and then looked at him, a slight smirk playing at the corners of her lips. Jayce, feeling the shift in her attention, turned his head quickly, but his eyes locked with hers for just a second too long.

Y/N tilted her head, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Something interesting on this page?” she asked, her voice teasing.

Jayce’s heart skipped a beat. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The room felt hot.

"I—uh—" He stammered, looking down at the page. “No! I mean, yes, but it’s nothing. Just some random doodles.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Random doodles? Really?”

Before Jayce could respond, Y/N flipped the page over, and a soft laugh escaped her lips as she spotted the words: “...his bum is quite nice though.”

Jayce’s face turned crimson, and he shot up from his seat, knocking the chair back. “I—I—”

Y/N's laughter filled the room as she watched him scramble, completely flustered. “So,” she said, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying the moment. “It seems like you’ve been paying attention to more than just equations.”

Jayce couldn’t form a coherent sentence. His brain short-circuited, and all he could manage was an awkward, strangled noise. He turned away quickly, hiding his face in his hands.

Y/N continued to laugh softly, shaking her head. “Jayce, I—oh, come on,” she said, her voice softening. “It’s not like I’m hiding it, is it? I mean, it’s not like you don’t know… right?”

Jayce finally looked back at her, his cheeks burning. “I—no! I mean… I—I know. But it’s just—” He ran a hand through his hair, completely embarrassed. “You’re... drawing me like that?”

Y/N leaned forward, giving him a playful, teasing smile. “What can I say? It’s hard to resist the charms of a brilliant inventor with a... nice bum.”

The air between them was thick with tension. Jayce had no idea how to respond to her easygoing confidence, and yet, despite the discomfort, there was something oddly endearing about the way Y/N was handling it.

“Well, I—I suppose,” he muttered, his voice still shaky. “I guess you’re not wrong…”

Y/N’s grin widened. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said lightly, her tone teasing, but her eyes softened with affection. “Just… maybe next time, you don’t need to look at my notes, Jayce. They’re private, after all.”

Jayce let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Right, of course. I’ll—uh—I’ll try not to peek next time.”

Y/N winked at him as she returned to her seat, her smile still lingering. “You don’t need to worry, Jayce. You’ve got my full attention. In fact, you’re distracting me enough as it is.”

Jayce could only manage a sheepish smile as the study session continued, the earlier awkwardness fading into a more comfortable silence—though he was still aware of the weight of her words hanging in the air.

One thing was certain: their study sessions would never be the same again.

[godsandvillains-if]

Hi, Nico! 👀 hope u're doing well (and not straining ur back from writing on your bed too long ;;)

I got an ask but feel free to deny it if you can't answer it!

So say MC is usually shy, reserved or a 'wallflower' sort with a pretty soft demeanor. They're more sweet and quiet. One day they were asked for a photoshoot - just pose for a magazine as a 'new hero rising' or the like! Maybe it would help provide a positive image or gain some notice from public and MC, perhaps wanting to try something new, gives an OK to it. No problem for the ROs, right?

Cue the magazine coming out and it's MC looking badass asf - Dark eyeliners, smoky gaze and just the vibe of HAWT and DANGEROUS. How would they react on that?

You are free to choose if this is in crushing or relationship stage!

Super cool!! So I chose relationship stage for this one, because why not? 😍

I think that the MC would want to surprise the RO with the result of the photo shoot, or they would just be too shy to have them along for it. Probably MC's best friend would go with them just to make sure that everything went smoothly—a.k.a. to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.

Archon would be at a loss for words when the MC brought a copy of the magazine for them to see. The front cover already blew their mind, so you can be sure that the entire thing would leave them speechless. Their response would pretty much be snaking an arm around MC's waist and just flying them somewhere far away, where both of them could have some privacy.

I think Stardom would have to know a little bit about the secret photo shoot that the MC did beforehand, since they are intimate with every news station in the state, but they would purposefully keep themselves in the dark about it. When the MC approached them with the magazine, they would make a show out of it by framing the front cover picture on a wall in their office.

Paladin would already feel comfortable enough to be in MC's presence without their helmet, so their dazzled expression would be clear for them to see. They would read the entire interview, every single letter of it, before saying anything—which would be nerve-wracking for the MC. After finishing it, Paladin would give the MC a rundown of all their favorite bits and why they love it so much.

Ace and Zodiac would act much the same way in this situation, shocked and disbelieving, not really connecting the dots for a few minutes. As the surprise settles down, they will be more proud than anything, seeing the MC finally coming out of their shell and doing things that seemed impossible when they first joined the team. They would hug the MC, telling them how proud they are, and then keep gushing over how freaking cool they look.

Wildcat. Ohh boy, you can be sure they would post, like, and reblog every little piece of media of the photo shoot, including edits of fans and nice comments. They would also make sure to send their mom and sister two copies of the magazine with your autograph on it and several cute doodles of the MC and them together. Haters and online trolls, beware!!

Mars would be a little skeptical at first, not really getting the point of the photoshoot and the whole interview, but as they see the excited and nervous glint in MC's eyes, they would change tunes pretty quickly when they get a better look. Safe to say it would be hard for the MC to be alone for the next few days, since Mars would want them all to themselves.

Thanks for the question!! 🥰🥰

[cottonlemonade]

Omg i always love your fic events!! You put so much effort into them and they're so creative! Can I get a small pineapple lemonade with pomegranate seeds for Kita? Thank u! ❤️🌾🧑‍🌾🦊

Accidental Confession

word count: 814 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: Kita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy accidental confession with pining Kita

In hindsight maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

But then again, confessing your feelings to someone wasn’t an everyday occurrence so of course he didn’t have a routine for it.

Nothing about you was ordinary or predictable. Except that little smile you got when you doodled in your planner or you offering your help when you saw someone struggle or the absolute determination with which you would first push a door that was clearly marked pull. Those things he could count on and his heart jumped every time.

“Kita-san?”

He snapped back to the present, meeting your curious gaze. “Yes?”

“You wanted to ask something and then… well, you haven’t said anything yet.”

“Oh! Right.” His face grew a little warmer and he cleared his throat. Kita looked around the courtyard of the school for a moment, trying to remember how he wanted to start his question. It was on the tip of his tongue until he got tripped up by the sun hitting your eyes and all thought had vanished from his mind. Somewhere off to the right he spotted Aran and the twins blatantly staring in his direction. The ace gave him two encouraging thumbs up, Osamu managed to nod while getting lost in the taste of his lunch and Atsumu said something and then pretended to throw up, earning himself a smack over the head from Aran.

He never should have told them about his crush.

“I wanted to ask for yer help.”, he finally began and you sat up a little straighter to show you were listening.

“There’s someone I really like and I want to confess to her but I don’t know how. I was hopin’ ya’d have some insights.”

“Me?”, you said perplexed, “Why me?”

“Because yer really pretty and interestin’, ya must get confessions every other week.”

He frowned when you burst out into laughter.

But when he didn’t join in, you stopped. “Oh, wait. You were serious.”

“Was tryin’ to be. Yea.”

You cocked a brow and looked down at your pudgy tummy, barely hidden by the school’s jacket, and tucked at the hem of your skirt that always felt too short because your butt required so much fabric to cover.

“Uhm, I hate to break it to you, but I think you got the wrong girl. Why not try Kotoha? She is very popular and sweet - unless she is the one you want to confess to.”

“Who?”

“Ko- nevermind. - I can try to help you, sure. But I need a bit more info. Tell me about her.”

Kita pondered. It was the whole point of asking for your advice so he’d have the best possible set up for success. He wanted it to be tailored to your taste. What if you liked a public announcement and meanwhile he would have only handed you a private letter? He needed to be sure.

“She is quite outgoing.”, he began, putting a hand to his chin in thought.

“Outgoing from your point of view or outgoing like Atsumu?”

“Not like Atsumu.”, he said quickly, “More … confident and less…”

“Obnoxious?”, you offered with a chuckle and he pretended to cough to hide his snort.

“Yes. She is also really smart and funny. She knows how to make people comfortable and …”, he looked at his shoes, “has a beautiful smile.”

“Oh you’re down bad, I see.“

“She is beautiful in general.”, he went on, not noticing your comment because he wasn’t close to being done listing everything, “She loves to read and I also know she knits. And when she thinks no one can hear her, she starts humming while she is knitting and that sounds really nice.”

You frowned. You were part of the Knitting Club so you mentally flipped through the members of said club to figure out who he was talking about.

“One time,”, he said and gave a slow, low laugh, remembering the scene, his eyes still fixed on the ground, “she was knitting in the classroom and she was so proud, showing off a little thing she made and I asked her what it was and ya said it was obviously a frog.”

Kita’s shoulders shook and a few seconds later he was doubling over with laughter. He didn’t realize what he had just done.

“But it was just so round and wonky and had tiny stringy legs.” He gasped for air, trying to stop laughing.

Your heart hammered in your ears and your cheeks threatened to cook under the heat rising in them continuously. “H-hey, I’m still proud of my frog!” It was the only thing you could think of to say.

He started coughing from laughing so much, “As ya should be.” Raising his index finger to his eyes he wiped away the tears.

“So, uhm. I think as far as confessions go this was unconventional but… it definitely worked.”

“What?”

art: @cookiechochop on Twitter

a/n: thank you so much for the request, I’m sorry it’s taking so long for me to get to them all!

I didn’t make it post-time skip (like your emojis suggested ✨) because I already have him accidentally confess in A Simpler Life ^^ I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless and thank you so much for your kind words!

[dark-and-kawaii]

Ok, so I was mostly joking about the whole 'bunny-boy Zevlor doodle' thing but... Hmmm...

*awkwardly clears throat while fanning myself*

👀 He looks very nice. Very nice indeed.

Pardon, I think I need to process what you have awoken in me.

‎‧₊˚✧ [ Don’t Be Shy ] ✧˚₊‧

Summary: You ask Zevlor to try on the cute latex bunny outfit ♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ — Notes: Don’t mind me, just going to casually drop a little Drabble about him trying on the bunny outfit in front of you ♡ ♡!!! Thank you so much for the love on the drawing!!! It’s honestly one of my favorites, and I’m grateful you recommended it!!! He’s so freaking precious in it in my opinion hahaha pink latex suits him well (>ᴗ•)!!!

Doodle

You sat on the bed while holding a fur pillow, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you watched Zevlor fumble with the bunny outfit you had teasingly suggested he try on.

The outfit was made of gorgeous pink latex, the cuffs embroidered with a silver lining, and Zevlor, well… you giggle at how the commander- a dignified soldier, was now a blushing mess.

His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, contrasting sharply with his usual composed demeanor… And his tail, “Awhh Zevy~” it instinctively curled around his waist, the sharp end of it attempting to shield the rather obvious bulge that the snug outfit accentuated. Meanwhile, Zevlor’s hand covered half his face, as if trying to hide from the world- or perhaps from your amused gaze.

“Dear, must I really?” He mumbled from behind his fingers.

You chuckled softly, hopping off the bed so that you could saunter over to the love of your life. And with a playful grin, you reach out and gently take his tail in your hand to unwrap it from his muscular waist. “Don’t be shy now,” you purr before giving his tail a light, teasing lick, your eyes never leaving his, “let me see what you’re hiding~”

Zevlor's breath caught in his throat, his blush deepening as he met your gaze... Your playful confidence was infectious, and despite his initial embarrassment and discomfort, he found himself relaxing under your touch- the warmth of your gaze melting away his embarrassment, if only just a little.

[sunandmoonseisai]

Okay but... Mlp dungeon meshi au? Blank flank laios? Imagine laios as a child excitedly chatting with his sister about what their cutie marks might be. Doodling his predictions on spare paper, clearly it will be something cool and monster related.

But then all of his peers get their cutie marks. Then even his little sister get her cutie mark that day at the grave. And it becomes apparent that something about him is off. He think that maybe getting an education and serving in the army will get his hidden talent to show itself.

But it doesn't. Despite his best efforts, his special talent remains non-existant. He try to hide his blank flank to his peers but it doesn't take long before the truth comes out. The bullying start soon and only get worse and worse. Having no cutie mark means having no worth as a pony and the other soldiers makes it clear with every beating that he's lower than a worm. He doesn't even want to imagine the dissapointment of his parents if he ever came home with no cutie mark to prove his worth with.

Laios now understand. He was never meant to be a pony. He will never be whole as a pony. His place was always among monsters and wolves. They don't need an humiliating mark to define who they are, do they? This is what cause his interest to turn into an obsession, an escape. All day he yearn for an escape from his pathetic existence as a pony.

His sister falin still love him though. She who got her cutie mark at such a precocious age, she who was deemed a protigy, she doesn't even look down on a failure such as him. She renounce of becoming a powerful magician to be by his side. This give laios the drive to go on, just a little.

Then they take odd jobs together. Then they form a team together. Laios meet falin's longtime friend. Laios isn't particularly close to anyone in the party but it's still nice to have acquaintance, people that tolerate his presence. He hide his flank behind his armor at all time and beg falin to never tell any of them about his lack of cutie marks.

But when falin get eaten by a dragon... Laios has no choice. He has to open up to his companion to save the only person he can expect unconditional love from. The haugty unicorn marcille, and the closed off fairy chilchuck. When he reveal his love for monsters, but moreover when they discover he's a blank flank, their esteem of him does crumble a little. At first. Their new companion senshi doesn't mind tho. As a Buffalo, he never really understood the point of those weird tattoos.

They progress in their quest. They met friends along the way. They go through life-changing hardships together. They all reveal their true selves to each other. Laios prove himself to be a reliable leader, and his companions start to not only trust him, but love him as well. Even if he's a blank flank.

This culminate to the moment when he defeat the winged lion, when he ultimately chooses his friends over his existence as a monsters. Even tho laios is afraid to show his face. His friends are proud of him either way. Even more when one of them notices something when laios remove his armor for the night. On his flank appeared a stylized depiction of a monstrous pony eating a golden lion. On the pony's head is a crown.

Marcille and senshi congratulate him, izutsumi and chilchuck laugh in good humor that he got a whole tapestry as a cutie mark. How spoiled he is!

But it doesn't take long before laios burst into tears.

Because he's no blank flank anymore. Because he has found his place, his home, his purpose. A community with which he belongs.

He pray that falin come back. And if not he hope she can see where he is from the afterlife. He knows she's very proud of him.

That's all inspired by this post btw

This is the most autistic thing I've ever wrote

[sprunkimortality]

Uhh Black, was it really a good idea to leave a kid home alone-

Black: "See, I...realized that a little later than I should."

[Black was hurrying back to Saves' home, carrying the old Sprunki in question in his arms. Saves remained still in his hold, smiling innocently as he rested his cheek on Black's chest.]

Saves: "Oh, Black, what are we hurrying for?"

Black: "Sprinkles. She's by herself."

Saves: "O-Oh, goodness me."

.

.

.

[When Black arrived back home, the first thing he saw was Sprinkles lying on her belly, humming a tune as she scribbled on a piece of paper. There were more pieces of paper lying about, each with her mark of art on them.]

Black: "Sprinkles, I am SO sorry."

Sprinkles: "For what?"

[Sprinkles looks up. Upon seeing Saves, she beams up, scrambling to what would be her feet, if she had any.]

Sprinkles: "Grandpapa Saves! You're back!"

Saves: "Back?...did I leave?"

Black: "Well, yes, you wandered off, actually."

[Black gently sets Saves on the floor, helping him stand. Sprinkles rushes to the lavender Sprunki, embracing him firmly, wrapping her arms around his sweater-covered body.]

Saves: "Oh, Sparkle! Love to see you too, my dear."

Sprinkles: "Grandpapa, I made us some pictures while you were away! I was gonna use them to cheer you up, but it looks like you already did!"

Black: "Yes, a friend helped."

Sprinkles: "Who?"

Black: "..."

Saves: "I believe it was...Samuel? Or was that his name..."

Sprinkles: "Who's Samuel?"

[Black clears his throat, a hesitant look on his face.]

Black: "S-Simon."

Sprinkles: "Oh- Oooh! Heehee!"

Saves: "Simon! Yes, I remember now. Anyhow...may I see your drawings?"

[Sprinkles nodded eagerly as she gathered the pieces of paper, showing them one by one.]

(credits to @soarinsworld for the drawings!)

Sprinkles: "See? This was when you took us to eat outside as a treat! And this was when we made flower crowns! And this is when you gave me my necklace, Grandpapa! Do you remember? Any of them?"

[Saves stared quietly at the drawings. While they were cute and heartwarming, he struggled to recall the events they were based on. He can't quite remember what happened, only that they did, and that they were events that felt good.

His smile faltered a little as he continued to dig through his mind, though all he was met with was the fog that never seemed to go away. Perhaps, he felt, he should stop trying. The air was too quiet.]

Saves: "I...can't say, my dear. But these are nice. Perhaps...we could hang these on the walls."

[Sprinkles seemed a little disappointed that Saves had forgotten, again, but nevertheless happy that he enjoyed her artwork.]

Sprinkles: "Thank you!"

[She turned towards Black.]

Sprinkles: "Grandpa Black?"

Black: "Hm?"

Sprinkles: "Is the grown-up problem solved now?"

Black: "..."

[Black turned towards Saves, who had started wandering off into the kitchen, perhaps to make some tea again.]

Black: "...I don't know, Sprinkles. I really don't."

[Sprinkles frowns.]

Black: "...but...you know, I do agree with him when he said that those doodles are nice."

[Sprinkles smiles a little again.]

Sprinkles: "Will Grandpapa be okay?"

Black: "Ah, the old geezer has his ways of standing strong."

Sprinkles: "You're an old geezer too, Grandpa Black!"

Black: "I don't count, kid. I have the face of a youthful supermodel."

Sprinkles: "Heeheehee!"

Black: "C'mon, let's get those drawings up on the walls. And not with tape this time, okay?"

Sprinkles: "O-kay~!"

[As the two trudged away, Saves was, momentarily, left to his own thoughts again. He grabbed a cup and a teabag from the shelves; it was like muscle memory at this point when he began to prepare the tea.

He stared into the cup as he filled it with hot water, the teabag sitting comfortably inside. The reflection in the water stared back.]

Saves: "...my name..."

[Saves breathed in, before letting out a heavy exhale.]

Saves: "...my name...is Saves. Whew..."

[A faint smile quirked his lips.]

Saves: "Almost forgot there, haha."

[The tea was delightful.]

[child0feden]

RAINY DAYS

- just sharing a little thought i had whilst it rained today!

pelle would probably really like the rain, he does not so much like being in the rain because i think he would get slightly irritated at the feeling of his denim jeans sticking to his already cold and pale skin but inside the house? he likes it a whole lot

he likes cuddling up with you when it rains, big spooning you from the side so that his eyes can stare out of the one small window in your shared bedroom, his blue eyes reflecting the image of small water droplets rapidly hitting the glass and trickling down as his cold hands trace your hips, not helping much to warm you up but you do not say anything, you just let him rest and push your body further into his front, trying to create some body warmth which works well enough… occasionally his blue eyes will drift away from the window and down to your resting face, watching as your nose twitches lightly in your sleep or your soft lips part to breathe, admiring you in your most vulnerable and serene state, watching as the orange, fiery glow from a nearby pine scented candle lights up your face in the dark room…

rain often helps him fall asleep, helped even more by the feeling of your body pressed up against his, the sound of steady water drops hitting the roof and glass windows soothing his mind and clearing it almost entirely of the fog that lurks, his hand grabbing yours and holding it tightly as his tired eyes droop and he buries his pale face further into your neck from behind, his chin still resting just atop your shoulder as your warm fingers draw soft circles on the back of his cold hand

when it rains, pelle does not really like to do much except relax the best he know how and admire the cold, gloomy weather… to him, it is not gloomy or even depressing as it may be to some, pelle finds it to be so beyond relaxing and calming! it is one of the few things aside from you that helps soothe his mind, put his mind to rest for just a while…

pelle just likes to sit and watch the rain with you, listen to it as it falls from the pale sky as if it is natural music to his ears, the softest and most beautiful music he thinks he will ever hear and it inspires him, it inspires him to make art or write lyrics, doodling randomly at his desk as shadowy rain drops are reflected onto the paper through the window

and when the rain stops, pelle is the first one out of the house, looking at you blankly for a couple seconds before leaving without a jacket, as if silently telling you to follow him, which you do! though he does not do anything crazy outside, no, pelle just stands and breathes through his nose… tilting his head back ever so slightly, long blonde hair draped over his face as he inhales quietly, breathing in the fresh dewey air and the signature smell of rain… he might purposely walk through or even stand still in some murky water puddles, staring down at his rippled reflection before walking off to another one and doing the same, not caring in the slightest about the water now soaking through his shoes and dampening his cotton socks… you think it might be some kind of childlike wonder still in pelle, some kind of playfulness and curiosity very obviously still left inside the man that so many claim to be heartless and cold…

you will probably have to convince him to just put a damn jacket on as he walks around the front of the house, not wanting his weak immune system to fall victim to a nasty cold, he will probably comply if just to please you! and when you finally wrangle him inside, he certainly will not say no to you making him a nice hot drink, his tall and lanky stature standing in the kitchen and watching you as you make the drink for him, watching you with a gaze many would assume to be blank and uncaring but you can see more than that, anyone could see more than that if they really looked…

anyways, it just kind of came to me whilst it was raining today! still love sharing my random little thoughts and always remember, i welcome your thoughts into my ask box with open arms :)

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi first of all I'd like to say that I love your writing style and can't get enough of reading you. Could I make a request for a slightly older Jake Kim? As it's the end of the crews, Allied has won and neither Charles Choi nor Eugene are a threat anymore. Jake is a little bored despite his love for big deal and his friends and/or his mother is urging him to go back to school and he thinks it might be a good idea. At first he's a little scared and unsure, thinking that with his gangster looks and scars, he might scare off the other students, but Jake is Jake and his charisma is incredible. Anyway, he notices this girl who's a foreign student (if she could be French, I'd love you for the rest of my life), quite popular and he just has a crush on her but doesn't dare approach her because she's so popular. Well he watches her as she sit just in front of him and he is just so into her. The 2 of them could get close at a party or an event, maybe he could save her from a molka or a Zeus-like student or something like that too.

Sorry if it is not clear, english isn't my native language.

Besides, if my request doesn't inspire you, feel free to ignore it. I'll keep on reading you because you're incredible.

Anon, this is EXTREMELY clear. Ty for being so kind!! Sorry for the delay and as always, only half hitting the request points. Also French???

Jake Kim x French!Reader: Lecture

Leans F!Reader. Sort of college AU.

Jake sits at the back of the lecture hall. 

He always sits at the back. It was his seat before Big Deal, and makes sense that it's his seat after Big Deal too.

Picked in his middle school days as the perfect spot for taking naps and causing trouble. Not that Jake was ever a trouble maker, at least to teachers. He preferred to waste the hours by catching up on his sleep.

So used to being front and centre all his life. Thrust, sometimes willingly, sometimes not, into the centre of attention that it's quite nice to literally take a back seat. 

Except. It's out of an awkwardness, discomfort, that he chooses to sit at the back today. 

Hidden from most of the other students. Feeling out of place with his thuggish appearance, his scars and his tattoos.

Can't help but be a little self conscious, even if his bias should be grossly outdated.

"This seat taken?" You don't wait for his answer, missing his look of surprise, slamming yourself down on the seat. Hugging your backpack to your body and slouching with relief. 

"I got lost," you give a grin that comes out as more of a grimace, and wipe your brow, having worked up a sweat from trying to figure out this labyrinth they call a school.

Jake's eyes follow your fingers running through your hair. Absentmindedly notes how soft and shiny it looks.

You tell him your name, half distracted with setting up your laptop to take notes. He has your full attention when his low, husky timbre introduces himself as Jake Kim. 

You also notice he has dimples when he smiles.

.

.

He sees you again a couple days later, and you walk towards your lecture together.

Following your lead and taking a seat much closer to the front. Where Jake doesn't need to strain so much to see and hear.

He feels less self conscious today. Maybe that's because you're by his side.

He chooses not to dwell on it. Focusing on whatever the professor is talking about.

Somewhere between the droning voice and the overwarm room, his mind starts to wander. Begins to doodle on his notepad instead of taking notes.

You peek over at his paper, "What is that?"

"Jerry." Jake says it like it's obvious. Like you should know.

"Who?"

"My best friend."

You squint down at the doodle a bit more, "Cute. What breed is he?"

Jake holds back his grin and deadpans, "Human."

"Huh?!"

Jake chuckles. Points out the bald head and the attempt at human anatomy in a hushed voice as you inspect further, peering so close your foreheads are almost touching.

When finally,the image clicks, you burst out laughing, earning shushes from the students around you.

 .

.

Jake is shy. 

All his natural leadership quality completely leaves him when after the lecture, you introduce him to his friends.

A mix of students that grew up overseas. Seems worldly and experienced compared to himself who has barely left Seoul. Having lived a lifetime fighting and running a gang instead.

You introduce everyone. Give him more details about yourself, mention growing up in France.

"Paris?" he ventures, the only place he can recall off the top of his head.

You pull a little face at that. No, the South. Grew up swimming in the Mediterranean Sea. 

"Here," you lean in to show him on your phone the town you spent your childhood years.

Leaning in close enough that he can count each of your freckles, if he so chooses. Can pick out the scent of your shampoo

And Jake, for maybe the first time ever, is hit with a fluttering in his stomach.

.

.

It's a role reversal.

Everyone seems to know you. You remember the little details about them. Asking how their trip was, how their mom is doing.

You're popular, and Jake feels a little like an outcast. No one has given him a reason to feel that way. Not really, but he couldn't help feeling misplaced. Like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.

Until you took him under your wing. Making him feel comfortable in this strange environment. 

Like many others, his face now brightens when you shine your light on him.

He remembers a little more, a lot more, about himself. Finds ease in his words and his body again.

Charisma and confidence once more rising to the surface. It always does with someone like Jake Kim. It’s embedded in his nature, fundamentally a part of who he is.

Being with you is uncomplicated, easy. Like how everyone always says it should be. He draws smiles and laughter from your lips, feeding on them like a lifestream.  Cracking cheesy jokes and puns that make you groan and lightly slap his arm with affection.

Jake thinks you're sweet and kind and all sorts of wonderful. Maybe funnier than he is, which is the greatest compliment he can give.

He's started to count your freckles every chance he gets.

.

.

You're doodling on his pad again. He's admiring your lashes.

Long and thick and luscious. But it's the way they frame your eyes, when you peer up at him with a softness, that makes his chest ache.

"I drew us," you whisper, and his eyes follow your pen. Two stick figures. One much taller than the others.

Maybe he's a bit too crazy about you, but he thinks that even these few lines are the essence of you two.

"What are we doing?" he whispers back. Your eyes drop to his lips, tracing the shape of them, the scar, words almost on the tip of your tongue-

Then it dissipates. 

You stare back at the drawing and give a shrug.

"Maybe this?" He draws what he hopes you can make out to be a bowl and some chopsticks.

"Food?"

"Sure." Jake musters up all his charm and gives you a grin, hoping it hides his nervousness. "Or dinner. A date."

He's trying for nonchalance. Like it wouldn't mean anything if you turned him down, preferring to stay friends or whatever this is-

"This Saturday?" you smile, and Jake nods, gives you a toothy grin back, dimples on full display.

You pick up your pen again and draw a little symbol over the figures. 

It’s a small heart, and his own soars.

[hannahssimblr]

That evening after I drive home the house is a battlefield. As soon as I let myself into the hallway the sounds of some escalating conflict are sweeping through from the kitchen, but it doesn’t surprise me. It’s been this way for months. I just toss my car keys onto the table and head upstairs. 

“Think about the way you make me live!” My mother shrieks as I shuffle through my desk drawer to retrieve my iPod and the noise cancelling headphones I use for my laptop. My dad says something in response, his rumbling tones infuriatingly calm, unfazed. He always speaks to her with such a patronising air of reasonableness, so honestly it’s no wonder she’s going insane.

“Ivy?” I knock on her bedroom door, “I’m back. Can I come in?”

Her voice is quiet within, “Yeah.”

“Hey, what’s up?” The noise from downstairs is louder I come inside, but Ivy’s room is right above the kitchen. I know she has been listening. She is perched on her bed kneading a corner of her blanket in her little hands, body tense and static like a startled cat. 

Mom raises her voice even further in shocked outrage, “What are you saying? Do you regret our children?”

“I just bought a cool new album,” I say, “do you want to hear it?”

“What’s it called?”

“Contra. You remember Vampire Weekend, right?”

“Um...”

“You liked their last album.”

“Did I?”

“Here,” I climb to my knees in front of her and plop the headphones onto her head. They’re big on her and want to slip down towards her jaw until i carefully adjust them while she watches me with interest. Everything I do is interesting to Ivy, even my thumb circling the dial on my iPod as I navigate to the first song on the album. I grin into her face, “can you hear me?”

She nods, so I crank it up, “how about now?”

She gasps, “It’s so loud! I can’t hear you!” 

“Good,” and I sit right by her, on the floor by her bed while she lays back and tries to hum along to songs she's never heard before. She does it in mom's car every time the radio comes on, which is apparently irritating, but I don't think so. She's a musical kid who is just trying to work something out in her head.

As I listen to her weird little melodies I doodle with a ballpoint pen I found in the pocket of my jacket. I've flipped to the back page of one of her school copy books, and I know she doesn’t mind, she can bring them into school and tell her classmates that she did them if she likes. 

Every now and again pieces of the argument are clear enough to understand, mostly mom’s side. “You do nothing around here, what are you talking about?” She screams, “You just sit in your office all night and-” some muffled aggression. Then at one point she brings up Fergal from work, which is a poor choice, because it really sets dad off. I know this because I finally hear a shocked “how dare you!” from him, which seems fair, actually. 

Fergal from work is her boyfriend. Or was, maybe, I don’t ask. All I know is that Fergal from work exists and that my mother was having an affair with him for, like, two years or something. I googled him when I first started hearing his name thrown around like daggers through the rooms of this house, and he’s pretty much how you might imagine a Fergal. He’s older, weedier and less good looking than my father, with hair so fine and light that his eyebrows are hardly visible and a hairline like the tide has gone out on it, but his smile is sort of kind. His LinkedIn picture has him smiling broadly and the lines on his face and around his eyes suggest that he’s spent a good chunk of his life doing just that. Smiling. Aside from likely being nice, he’s probably ten times more interesting than Christopher too, which has to be the real selling point. I bet that listens to her when she talks to him and makes her laugh, if she’s still capable of that, so I can’t really be angry with her about Fergal. I might have done the same thing as she did if I ever felt so trapped.  

I must be listening too obviously because Ivy slips the headphones off. “What are they saying?”

“Stupid shit, Ives, it’s not interesting.”

She pauses and says in a very small voice, “Do you think they’ll get a divorce?”

I turn to her, “They might. But I don’t think it’d be such a bad idea. Do you?”

She shrugs. 

“At least if they divorced they’d stop fighting.” At least eventually.

“They fight a lot,” she whispers, “I hate it.”

“Yeah, same.”

“What will happen to us? What if neither of them wants us?”

This surprises a laugh right out of me, “It's not like they'll have a choice. Did you think we’d get thrown into an orphanage or something?”

“Maybe.”

“I think you’ve been reading too many of those Jacqueline Wilson books about the kids from broken homes. Next time we go to the library we’ll get you something a bit less sad and tragic, do you think?”

She shrugs, but I'll get her into Goosebumps yet. I am determined.

“You want to know what I think?”

 A nod.

“I think them being divorced would actually be fine, because at least they wouldn’t be doing this all the time,” I tilt my head toward the floor, shaking with the reverberation of the slamming patio door, “And also we probably wouldn’t have to be around dad half as often.”

Ivy looks conflicted, “Well I don’t not want a dad.”

I almost tell her that Christopher isn’t that interested in his role as her father and the way that he interacts, or more accurately fails to interact with her, is not normal, even if it’s what she’s used to, and that I bet Fergal would be a better dad, but I figure it’s probably not the wisest to mention any of that. 

“He’ll still always be your dad, just like how mom will always be your mom and I’ll always be your brother, you know? No matter what happens or how things change. You're made from him, you know? That doesn't just go away.”

“I don’t want change.”

“Everything changes, all of the time.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to. Things move on whether you like it or not, and you have to accept it.”

Her eyes fill with tears, “I don’t want you to move away either.”

“No, c’mon,” I scramble onto her bed and pull her into my chest, “I know, but I can’t stay here forever, I’m an adult now, I’m going to have to go, but it’s not right away…” 

“Yes, but soon.”

I hesitate, “Oh, Ivy, it’s, like-”

“And then it’ll be just me, and everything will be different,” as tears overflow I understand that it’s not just about this, it’s about everything, all of the chaos and the disruption that I cannot fix. I just shush her and rock her side to side. It’s hard for her, but I refuse to lie to her about what might happen. 

“I need to move away, I feel like I don’t have another option.”

“But why?”

“I- I think you’ll get it when you’re older, maybe. It's just very important to me.”

“I won’t see you anymore.”

“Yes you will, maybe not as much, but you’ll get used to it really quickly. And imagine if I went to college somewhere really exciting, you could come and see me and we could do all kinds of fun stuff, yeah? Like if I’m in Paris, imagine, I could take you to Disneyland.”

She sniffles, “Paris?”

“Yeah, you loved Paris a couple of years ago, right?”

She nods and rubs her eyes, “Could we try and go up the Eiffel Tower again?”

“Duh, and you’d be old enough not to be so scared.”

“Maybe-” a thick swallow “maybe even your new house would have a balcony and we could see it from there.”

“Oh, for sure, and we’d get pastries from the bakery downstairs in the mornings, they'd just so happen to be best ones ever, and there’d be a man playing the accordion outside- no, everywhere, like, no matter where we go, he’s there with his swirly little French Guy moustache...”

She giggles, “Is he following us around?”

“Oh, yeah, a total stalker, actually. Maybe we’d have to call the French police on him.” 

We both laugh as she dries her face with her sleeves. Coming up with all the very French things we would do in Paris, every detail down to the layout of my beautiful Haussmann style apartment overlooking the Seine is nice.

I'm not stupid, of course, I know perfectly well that the reality of a move to Paris would involve me and Michelle stuffed into a Chambre de Bonne tiny enough to touch both walls at the same time, tripping over half baked art projects and every possession we own, our pent up frustration causing us to have screaming matches that would wake up the whole arrondissement, but it’s nice to be an idealist for a minute or two. 

“Where else could you live?” she asks me once we’ve exhausted all of the parisian stereotypes and run out of hypotheticals. 

“Hmm, how about Amsterdam?”

“Oh! Anne Frank lived there, we read the book at school last year.”

I tell her that yes, if I lived there I’d take her to see the house with that stairway hidden behind the bookcase, and then we would... cycle around the place and annoy everyone because she’s so unsteady on her bike. I make up a story about how she keeps swerving out of her lane and getting in everybody's way, eventually causing a giant bike pile up along the canal like some sort of rat king of Dutch cyclists.

“Where else!”

“Um, Berlin...” and I purse my lips and try to think of things to do in Berlin that are appropriate for a nine year old, but for some reason all I can think of is a surly line of leather clad druggies in front of a techno club. “They like going to nightclubs, I guess…”

“I can go to a nightclub.”

“Yeah, as if! You’d hate it, it’s just loud music and everyone bumping into you. Hey, you know there’s one nightclub in Berlin that’s so exclusive that they only let the coolest people in Europe inside? You have to wait in line for hours and if they think you’re even a little bit uncool then they send you home.”

Her eyes get wide, “Really? Hm. I think I could get in.”

The idea of Ivy being let into Berghain makes me guffaw, “Oh, you think so, do you?”

“Yeah I’m cool enough!”

“No you aren’t.”

“I am,” she leaps up and pretends to strangle me while I hold her at arm's length, “there’s no such thing as a cool nine year old.”

“There’s no such thing as a cool eighteen year old either.”

“Uh! There is, you're looking at one. I would get into that club, no doubt.”

“No you wouldn’t, they wouldn’t even let you in the line.”

“Nah, they’d beg me to come in because I’d make it cooler.”

“They’d see you coming and pretend to be closed.”

As we laugh and make stupid, childish jokes at one another I’m aware of an acceptance I feel with her that I don’t around other people. I’m never really so blatantly stupid and goofy in public, but Ivy, who has become my favourite person in the world, no matter what I do or say it’s funny, and she never thinks I’m weird, at least not in a bad way. I can fully let my guard down. Even though the fighting has stopped I don't really want to leave, but the moon has risen now, and the grasshoppers are chirping. Ivy has to sleep.

I gather up my headphones and iPod and get up, despite her protests and attempts to come up with more funny things we might do as we galivant through fictional Europe.

“You're stalling,” I say, “you know well you have to go to sleep now.”

“No, no! Just one more thing!”

“Nope! Sorry! And don’t forget to brush your teeth, or I’ll tell dad.”

She pulls her ugliest face. She knows I’d never, but it’s funny, like telling a christian kid that Satan is watching.

I shut the door very gently. It's not particularly late, maybe ten, but the house is morgue quiet, almost eerie, like the aftermath of a hurricane. 

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