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gummygowon · 3 years

Text

finger paint | choi san

word count: 1.3k

genre: fluff

established relationship!

warnings: san just makes a sex joke but that’s it

request: hello hello could i request san with an artist!reader? like they're dating but he's also her muse and she paints him and hfjsjfjd pure fluff ig? also congrats on 100!! deserved

a/n: thank you!! <3 i hope you enjoy! ps. thank you for helping me with literally everything lol

“choi san!” you scolded your boyfriend as he kept moving wayyy too much for you to sketch his body.

“i’m sorry, i can’t help it. but you gave me something really boring to do.” san apologized as he motioned towards the english textbook you gave him.

you sighed in annoyance thinking of other ways to occupy your boyfriend enough for him to stay still since you current art project was to capture someone in the act of doing something. so of course, you choose to paint san since it was another excuse for you to marvel at your boyfriend plus you got to spend even more time with him and get your schoolwork done. it was a three birds one stone type thing you know?

at first, you asked him to dance for you. letting him freestyle to whatever song was playing. if i’m being honest, you spent the first five minutes just watching san dance. you were absolutely entranced by the way he moved his body so effortlessly and smoothly.

san had caught on to your staring and teased you for it. “are you gonna start drawing or are you just gonna keep your mouth open? because i’ll give you a reason to keep it open.”

your immediate reaction was to throw whatever was in your reach at him. your weapon of choice was an eraser that hit him square in the forehead.

“ouch.” he pouted as he rubbed the targeted spot.

“that’s on you.” you defended as you picked up the eraser he threw back at you, your cheeks a pretty pink. “can you get back to dancing now please?”

“you sure? because i-”

“san!” you shouted at him as you pointed your pencil at him threateningly.

“ok! ok!” he said immediately as he jogged back to his phone to hit play again.

as the music went on, the more you realized it was hard to capture a single dance move. you were getting frustrated each time you had to erase your page.

“baby, is it okay if you can do something else?” you shyly asked him, feeling bad that he has to switch activities for you.

“sure, of course. what do you have in mind?” he asked you as he lowered the music.

this is how you were left with a twitchy san, who wouldn’t sit still while you tried to sketch him. he always changed his position every few minutes or so claiming that he couldn’t get comfortable. finally, you got tired of san changing positions which led to you slightly snapping at him.

but then a bright idea popped into your head.

there was an art sale at your local target which resulted in you buying some mediocre art supplies for your art students that you had lessons with during the week. you rushed into your storage closet, digging around bins and bags looking for the five-color finger paint set that you never used.

“where did you go?” your boyfriend asked as you returned with a palette and the bottles of paint in your arms.

“i had to get something.” you answered as you sat back down on the floor, cracking open the paint, secretly praying that they weren’t dry and chunky. fortunately, your prayers were heard and the paint squeezed out the bottles with ease.

“what’s that for?” san asked pointing to the paint bottle in your hand as he crouched down, “i thought you weren’t done with the sketch?”

“i’m not.” you handed the palette to him, “this is for you.”

“but where am i supposed to paint?” he asked you as he dipped a finger into one of the blobs of paint.

“good question.” you replied back, motioning for him to sit. you didn’t have any spare canvases to use since you were already on a tight budget plus regular printer paper would just bleed through. you thought carefully about what other surfaces san could use to paint. a white board could work or maybe a-

“what the hell-” you shouted as you felt something touch your knee. you looked down to see san slowly removing his finger from your body, a glob of blue paint still stuck on his finger where a half drawn smiley face was left on your knee.

“i’m sorry.” san replied quickly as he removed his finger and went to go wipe it off.

“wait.” you pushed his hand away from your leg. if you didn’t have any surfaces for him to paint on, then why don’t you become one? the paint was washable since it was made to be on skin plus you aren’t wasting any more art supplies.

bingo

“you can keep painting-”

“on your legs?” san interrupted, giving you an odd look.

“yeah, they’re fingerpaints it’s okay.” you smiled at him before picking up your sketchbook again.

the pink haired boy shrugged his shoulders and picked up the palette of paint before returning your body. the first thing he did was finish his smiley face on your knee. then he started to dragging his finger around your calf after quietly asking you for to raise your legs, which created a long green line that wrapped around the bottom part of your leg. next, san used his middle finger to dip it into a pretty red color to make a flower right on top of the green line and then he dipped his pinky into some yellow to create the middle of the flower. after alternating between colors and fingers, san had managed to create a pretty vine that had a different colored flower every few inches. he also threw in a few small bees around the plant.

before continuing to paint the other leg, san had stolen a glance at you. he felt a smile form on his face as he watched your hands glide against the paper smoothly and skillfully with your bottom lip tucked underneath the top one. sunlight falling on you, making your skin glow. san could feel his heartbeat quicken, the longer he stared. he never imagined being able to date someone as lovely and amazing as you. someone who was able to love him but also be his best friend. someone who he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

you could feel your boyfriend’s gaze on you which slowly made you look up from your sketchbook, “what?” is there something on my face?”

“huh? oh no.” san answered as he watched you perked your head up, making eye contact with him. he could feel his heartbeat even faster when your face broke into smile. fuck. he really was in love.

“what is it?” you asked, a laugh escaping your mouth as you looked at your flustered boyfriend.

“nothing, i just love you.” he replied, gaining some composure.

now it was your turn to get flustered. you could feel heat rush to your cheeks for the twentieth time today. damn, the things this boy did to you. dating san was full of surprises, cute cuddly moments turning into heated ones. but the biggest one to you was the thought of spending your futures together. he was your only partner that your mind really brought up about spending the rest of your life with someone you love so much. now it was a clearer answer.

yes, you would spend the rest of you life with choi san. your best friend, boyfriend, and muse. the person who would have your back for life, no matter what.

“do i not get a ‘i love you’ back?” san pouted with his fingers still covered in paint.

“yeah.” you teased him, an annoying smile plastered on your face as you dipped a finger into the paint. it was quite obvious that you loved the pink haired boy back but you wanted to mess with him after he wouldn’t sit still.

“whyyy? that’s not-”

you cut him off by poking his cheek with the finger covered in a bright blue.

“hey!” he shouted at you before reaching to grab a leg but you got up so quickly and sprinted away from his touch. “come back here! i want my ‘i love you’ !”

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fandomlifechoseme · 4 years

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hi! i i was wondering if you could write a damian wayne x reader where they are soulmates and he rejects her at first but dick finds out and fluff ensues

Hell yeah you can!

It was a fun day at school. All of the theatre kids put on a play while the sports kids played sports I guess, I spent the entire time chilling by myself. It was how I liked it. I spent the entire day drawing which obviously felt like heaven that was until he came around. Damian showed up in the art room I know he like to draw as well so I didn’t say anything against it. But then when I slightly got bored I decided to draw on my arm. I drew a little rose that Grew into a tree I thought it looks nice personally. When I looked up though, Damien was watching me with this disgusted look on as I obviously I thought he was just judging me because I was writing on my own. But then I looked onto his arm and they’re sat the exact same drawings. Shit. I wanted to talk to him about it but he just stood up and ran. Rude. Every day I saw him in the art room and I tried and tried and tried to talk to him. He never even let me get a single word in. One day I cornered him in the art room

“ we need to talk”

“ about what tch”

I quickly picked up my pencil and draw little smile on my wrist. It appeared on his quickly.

“That”

“Honestly I don’t want to be your soulmate either. but we need to talk about it”

He stood up from where he was sitting and gave me the most terrifying glare I have ever seen.

“ you don’t get it though, I’m never going to fall in love with a loser like you. You can’t be my soulmate because my soulmate would actually be good at something not mediocre at drawing”

He then marched out of The art room, leaving me there to just sit in sorrow. How can anyone be that rude. Let alone someone who I’m supposed to fall in love with and someone who I’m supposed to spend the rest my life with. I decided then and there that I would never conform to society is ideal soulmate. I didn’t need someone to be happy. Especially someone who makes me feel like shit. Months go by And every time I see Damien in the hallways I just give him a scoff. I just hope one day he’ll feel as bad as how I felt in that moment. no one in their right mind to get to treat someone like that and get away with it.

Art class was hard because Damian was in my class and Miss worked out they were trouble is between us. She took it upon herself to “fix” us. One day she decided that she would start a project. You had to paint someone you admired. And it was in pairs. So obviously she paired me with the asshole.

“ Who inspires that cold dead heart of yours?” Harsh. I know. But my parents had raised me to believe your soulmate is someone who makes you feel happy and get here. If it none of those boxes harsh. I know. But my parents had raised me to believe your soulmate is someone who makes you feel happy and giddy. Damian fit none of those boxes.

“my heart is very much beating, thank you and I guess Robin.”

Blah!

“Yeah I guess, I definitely prefer Nightwing though, oh! but Red Robin is awesome!” His face goes to pure disgust at the mention of Red Robin.

“Drake would never let me forget it. I’d rather do Nightwing”

At least we came to an agreement? Yano he’s not that ba-

“ oh and stop with the drawing on yourself. I don’t need that on me”

Nope. I take it back he is a 10/10 butthole. I take out my pen and start drawing red robin all over my arms.

“ fine, keep drawing. Just no Red Robin.” I can make this arrangement work out. Missed calls out to everyone, that we have five minutes and it would be best if we work a bit at home.

“My house or yours?”

“Tch, my Manor. obviously”

TIME SKIPPY!

After school ended I started heading over to where Damian was waiting. He offered me a ride begrudgingly. To which I accepted. I expected to be riding home in a simple car. But I did not expect a freaking limo. We get into the car and Damian calls to the driver.

“Pennyworth! This is my partner I was telling you about, We will be working on our project at the home today” pennyworth? That’s a weird name. Maybe it’s his last name.

“ good evening Miss/Mr L/N my name is Alfred pennyworth. You may call me Alfred” I gave Alfred a small smile and thank him for the ride.

“You can you call me Y/N!” We went through most of the ride in complete silence. The only noise was the rare chatter between Alfred and Damian. When we pulled up to Damian’s house immediately recognised it as the Wayne Manor! I forgot he was a Wayne sometimes. He just acts so different to his father. We walk up to the door and hear gunshots. Obviously this scares me a little bit so I asked Damian what it was.

“That’s just Todd. You don’t need to be afraid of him” He says in a comforting voice? When we open the door I recognised Dick Grayson immediately. He may or may not of been my childhood crush, you’ll never know.

“ Grayson. This is my partner L/N. We will be working on a project from 4 to 8 pm. I expect no disturbances throughout this period of time.”Oh so he’s like that at home as well. Dick Grayson turns to me.

“Hi! And what is your name?”

“Y/n! I didn’t know you’d be here!” Out Walks Tim Drake. A distant friend of a friend.

“ honestly, I didn’t even know I’d be here until period four. It’s nice to see you Tim”

Tim then sees my arm Which still is covered with Red Robin

“ you are a fan of Red Robin?” He had an unnatural smile on. Like it looked like pure amusement mixed with doubt and a hint of sleep deprivation.

“Ye-“ before I could finish the sentence Damian grabs my arm and starts leading me to his room I think. Or the art room.

Dick’s POV

I noticed it when Damian grabbed their arm. I noticed the red robin drawn all over his arm too. Oh man. That explains when he came home awkward and semi Upset. I know he has a crush on them maybe they doesn’t have a crush on him. He would come home every day and just talk non-stop about them. Then one day he just stopped. He said at the start of that day that he would finally talk to them. And yet nothing happened. I turned to Tim to ask him

“Did you see what was on his arm?”

“Obviously, how could I ever miss this opportunity. He has red robin written all over his arm and drawn. I’m gonna have to thank Y/n”. After smacking him lightly. I go and try to find out what happened from Alfred. Tim goes back to his lair And does whatever he does when he’s hiding. I had to convince Jason to stop shooting so that Y/N would not think we are under attack. After a lot of digging and talking to everyone including Bruce and my lovely Barbara. I found out what happened. As the great big brother I am I had to get involved. I made a few calls and within minutes I had everything I needed.

“Damian! Y/n! Come downstairs we’re gonna watch a movie!” Obviously I picked out the most romantic movie we owned. It wasn’t really romantic but was the best thing we had.

“Grayson! We are working on the project! We are not watching a movie.” Okay time for plan b. I quickly run up the stairs and slam open the door. It turns out they were doing more than making a project. They were making a painting of me. There’s nothing more romantic than painting me. Well I think I still need to help out a bit. So I leave the movie there for them and ask if Y/N wanted to stay the night.

“I can’t, sorry, my mother would never agree.”

Y/n’s pov

I didn’t want to stay over because, my mother is a murderous people who does not like the idea of staying over boys house and I guess that’s the only reason. I mean Damien‘s bad but we have great conversations. Like before Dick came in we were having a fun conversation about why we admired night wing. Dick looked sad but he left.

“ anyway. Why do you not like Robin?”

“It’s not like I don’t like Robin. I just think he’s just a bit scary you know?” He nods.

“ why do you not like red robin?” This lit a fire in his eyes.

“ where do I get started. First of all he is incompetent, he thinks he’s great but he’s very shit.”

“Reminds me of you”

“ do not compare us”

“ or what?” He just laughs and as he was about to answer. Dick kicks open the door and starts talking about how he convinced my mother to let me stay over. I mean He probably could convince anyone anything. If he came up to me one day and said that the joker was actually Batman I’d immediately believe him.

I agree to stay over. And as I turned around I heard the door slam shut again. Sounds like dick had left. Damian looks at me with a sincere look.

“I want to apologise. I panicked and in the heat of the moment I said things I didn’t mean. One. I’d be honoured if you are my soulmate. Two. I don’t think your mediocre at drawing.”

Can’t say I expected that. But I don’t think he expected though was for me to forgive him.

“ Damian. I really like you and I think we could definitely work out as soulmates. If you are willing to try?” He smiles. this is the first time I’ve ever seen them smile and we have been in class together for almost 3 years.

“ can I, can I kiss you?”

I nod and lean into the kiss. Before our lips could touch though. Loud gunshots rock through the building again.

“Dam Todd.”

“ so I take it that the Waynes aren’t a normal family?”

“Nope” Tim says falling out of the ceiling.

#dc #dc x reader #tim drake #dick grayson #batfam #batfam x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #jason todd

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haknew · 3 years

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pls talk about your thoughts about chanhee and also the other concepts!! I always have such a hard time interpreting music and videos but i love to read about it

“bestie pls share ur thoughts on make your own concepts specifically chanhee’s but any others that are ur fave too 🎤- mar”

omg mar thank you for enabling me all day today 😭🥺🧡 thenks bestie ily :,)) and thank you too anon ! i should preface that T-T i have not read any other theories or analyses so these are just my opinions / impressions but i hope it’s entertaining to read about haha :p ! (feel free @ anyone to add on or share your thoughts too ! :,))

HYUNJAE - okay so audio cues... if you listen to the beginning there’s a sound of a bomb going off before the music starts ? and that ties into the dystopian / cyborg aesthetics that jump out at me of course, but what i immediately thought of was their no air perfo ? like we know hyunjae in the no air mv got that shot where he’s laying in the bathtub filled with water but also their kingdom performance with it also had those underwater shots ! so i think it ties into that... i feel like we saw in gen z, he’s a very straightforward person he says things on his mind which can come off as blunt but he thinks it’s better than not saying it ? which is interesting bc i think that speaks to his self- determined personality, he’s much more inclined to do whatever it takes to get something done, which i think falls perfectly in line with the “make your own air” phrase that he gets, if it’s something he needs he makes it himself, in a situational sense methinks u.u

JUYEON - JUYEON’S DJSKHDG i’m waiting for dri’s essay but in essence we see the gen z “juyeon is not such a good boy” shot and these text bubbles that pop up that say “sexy” “you so hot” “such a bad boy” and tbh i like this ‘concept’ ? for him better than his gen z one ? it’s not bc of the concept itself but i like the idea that he can “make your own character” as in he has the capability and power to be whoever he wants to ! you see him throwing white paint at the gen z canvas and i think ?! that’s symbolic of like a fresh canvas ! of remaking himself to whatever he wants bc the canvas is now blank again thanks to the white paint and flowers usually indicate spring ? so renewal and stuff like that ! i really like his, it’s also fun word play on “character” which has been juyeon’s intro in tbz (bc his name sounds like main character in korean) but yea :o ! i really love his the idea he can just repaint / paint over a literal image of him gives it the possibility of becoming smth new and that’s so so cool

CHANGMIN - SCREEEEECH okie um oh boy um *windows shutting down noises* this was so so so very different from his gen z stuff but i actually think BOTH are equally perfect for him ? the way that he set up the sparklers and neon lights on this very obviously trashy and kind of rundown rooftop with the cityline behind him is so ?!?!? LITERALLY making his own stage as his tagline goes, sort of like how the physical stage itself does not matter but rather it’s changmin himself that makes the stage special ! i talked about this in gabi’s set that i rbed ;-;/ but changmin puts a lot A LOT of stake in his position as a dancer it means almost everything to him as a form of expression from what i can see ? so he’s always trying his best to put forward the best performance possible and seeing this segment makes me feel like he’s doing just that ! pouring himself into it to make his stage pls i care him

HAKNYEON - god i’m a jusadan but just u.u rest in peace me, i’ll ... T_T be kind of honest this one confuses me a little ? i have assumptions and i feel like i know ... quite a bit about haknyeon (LMAO) my best guess is it has smth to do with self assurance ...? the way he’s framed and the fact that he’s sitting on a bed in the middle of a church surrounded by candles gives me christ figure symbolism (where my ap english takers at :/) and the light that perfectly frames him in a halo gives me angel vibes too, but the tagline of “make your own romance” paired with him kissing his reflection makes me think it’s about self love ;;;; from what i can tell haknyeon has always been someone who really likes feeling validated and praised for the stuff he does well, which he does for himself a lot of the times too ! but sometimes i think the self assurances he compliments himself with is more for reassuring himself rather than bragging (which i think people misinterpret) so it’s more about becoming the person he wants to fully love and being happie with himself which *tears* i might be reading too much into who knows i just love him ok ... U.U

KEBINNN - i know !!! dri mentioned this in my gifset tags but ! kev on kpop daebak (? was it) or smth mentioned how he strives to keep a childlike wonderment for the world around him, which is a reason why i think he loves drawing and sound / music production, he talked in a fancafe post once about an artist who turned mediocre everyday objects into art and he said he really loves that sense of wonderment so peter pan who “never grows up” is actually perfect for his worldview ahhhh T^T also kev really likes disney lmao, the way he’s doing this outside in this “neverland” garden on a balcony which is a part of this very typical apartment backed by a typical city bg also i believe ties into this turning a mediocre everyday thing into smth wonderful through his sense of childlike wonderment and his tagline of “make your own fantasy” (i also care him a lot this concept >>>>>>) and keeps to his referencing movie plotlines like he did in gen z jddkfj

SUNWOO - i also mentioned this in my tags on sunu’s set but this gives me 100 degrees vibes which i still to this day think is one of the most “sunwoo” vibe things ever, it’s a lot of him having fun and doing his own thing, and mixes both more mature and youthful aspects together in a way that i’d only ever describe as sunwoo vibes LMAO like the roller skating around and all the soap bubbles ! cute and youthful ! the crop top and celine wasitband (don’t laugh at me we all noticed) more mature and a callback to his gen z look methinks U.u, think sunwoo has always been a more go-with-the-flow or do whatever he feels like doing sort of person and so “make your own vibe” fits well with him in that sense to me

SANGYEON - .... *silence* *more windows shutting down noises* *jess.exe has stopped working* OKAY i feel like ! sangyeon’s is also more self explanatory :p i love the juxtaposition of boxing AND the arcade type fighter games ?? like both require very different sets of skills i feel like one is more physical the other is more mental ? but both require adapting to changes whether in the game or the boxing ring which as leader sangyeon would know a lot about, esp being flexible and quick to respond to different situations, and the “make your own glory” i feel is maybe more on the nose, but tbz are this man’s pride and joy you can see it literally anywhere and for him, as leader, to have made it this far with tbz, winning rtk and building their popularity through their hard work and efforts really is building his own glory and i just HHHHHHHHHH

YES EYYSFDHSHF CHANHEE YES - i said it in the tags of my srb before deleting it so i’ll just repeat it here but CHOI CHANHEE !!!!! this detail i didn’t quite process first watch was the continuous flashing of lights in all his scenes, like ... from the shots and the set it looks REALLY empty ?? but the flashing seems to indicate cameras and photos being taken of him despite there being no people we can really see in any of the shots ? WHICH IS SO COOL i think the implication is like “all eyes on him” type which SO TRU i love that idea, like i said the walking past the wedding dresses ? v heavily implies fashion designer which i think you mentioned mar :o ! and i see it in the sense of his tagline “make your own stereotype” bc white wedding dresses are the very traditional / typical choice and obviously feminine in stereotypes, whereas chanhee is wearing a SUIT which is all black in a very clean b/w set with no color which i feel is very stereotypically MASCULINE and the glasses too, it’s such an interesting contrast of his “stereotypically feminine” features (in my view) with very masculine symbols, like glasses we usually associate with more soft hearted / meek stereotypes ? but the geometric shape of the windows and again his suit seems to indicate the very opposite ? it’s a mixing of stereotypes which i think is the point, by putting those together he quite literally makes his own stereotype and puts on the crown while the cameras continue flashing while pointed at him AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

YOUNGHOON - okie might have less to say about this one :o i feel like both hak’s and younghoon’s i don’t see the connections quite as readily but ! i think it’s interesting that his tagline is “make your own classic” but then in the scenes itself he has a flip phone ??? with an antenna (okay boomer /j JDHFKFG JK PLS) and a teddy bear while in PERIOD stylized clothing and setting where those two things are more modern / contemporary in origin (but also not modern enough bc ,,, it’s a flip phone LOL) like 90s kid vibes ? you know but as an emperor in the joseon era haha :p while eating shrimp chips and reading a (comic ?) book, like idk too much of what it means but it’s a cool dichotomy LOL, think it might also tie into actor ! hoon bc it’s make your own classic and i think acting has become a very important aspect to him :o after seeing what he’s capable of in love revolution and his atbz video so it’s interesting u.u (need help w/ this one)

JACOB - think my explanation in han’s set’s tags didn’t really make sense so lemme ... reexplain LOL,,, so ! similar to his gen z video ? like he’s talked about how difficult it is to open up about his own feelings etc. and he said it’s less bc he realizes he needs to but rather just to make other people feel more comfortable when it comes to understanding him, and like the whole breaking the mirror with his reflection in the wanna be angry jacob, it’s about freeing himself to the point he can express the emotions he wants to ! in gen z it was about being able to be angry when he felt that way instead of being tied by his image of being just nice ? and in the video with his pilot uniform not only does he control the ride but he also rides on it himself ! quite literally making his own freedom (symbolically), a sort of realizing he can free himself ? from what’s been tying him down and i think the really big smile he has while riding it just comes to show how he wants to feel :,))) (jacob bae i care you)

ERIC - last one :p AHHH this is one of my favs too, the quite literal “make your own pride” I LOVE IT ! sooo i think the biggest takeaway i got was that of course in this video his “pride” is symbolized by the hot pink car (that he’s going to pick up his christmassy date in of course u.u if he has a license which he does n- his driver’s license in this was literally his aaa / boy version of reveal photo which in no dmv anywhere would a license picture be allowed to look that good-) and LITERALLY when he finished and takes it for a joy ride while sitting on the roof he’s STILL covered in the dirt and grime stains ! from working on it ! which i think is so symbolic ! it’s my favorite detail actually, he literally put sweat into this car which is his pride and now that he’s finally riding around in it, it feels accomplishing ! his pride ! love that, also when he’s grabbing a stub from that flyer i noticed he chose “youth” over the others (which was like .... ca$h, beauty, ice cream, hamburger...) which i think also just indicates that despite all this hard work he put in he still cherishes his youth and still lets that be a huge part of who he is (i mean pink car so of course) so idk i think it’s very neat go bestie mwah

#sunnew #anon #asks #not tbz #jess.replies #be your own king analysis #I WROTE SO MUCH PLS #even more than my gen z analysis i think #anyway if anyone reads all of this oof thank you #HHHEEELP #i just did all of them ....#my weakest ones are def hak sunwoo yh #idk but i like what i came up with for the others ! ^^#i've seen a few twt threads but haven't read any lol #wrote the most about chanhee but no one is surprised of course

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bottleofspilledink · 4 years

Text

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter IX

“So…” Eve began, staring at the various stands and stalls and tables with all sorts of different agendas, occasionally shifting her gaze to the people who would weave between it all.

In every sense of the word, today was, for lack of a better word, eventful.

This was most likely why, when they were gathered in the gymnasium for club sign-ups, the pair simply stood amidst the somewhat organized chaos, clueless.

“What now?” Eve pulled out the club sign-up form from her skirt pocket, thankful she hadn’t lost it in all the ruckus. “My offer still stands, I really don’t mind letting you pick the club we join.”

“I mean. I already told you earlier that I don’t really care what club we go to either way.” Lilith shrugged. She wasn’t trying to sound apathetic, but she couldn’t really remember the last time she enjoyed club time solely for it’s activities and not the friends she would do them with. “You pick.”

“Alright, we’re not gonna get anywhere with this, so how about a compromise?”

“I’m listening,” Lilith chuckled. Of course Eve would be the type to suggest something like that.

The girl in question blushed at the sound, but fought to gather her thoughts and continue.

“You can tell me the clubs you don’t like and I’ll do the same. After we narrow down the list, we can settle on a club that we both like, or at least a club that on of us can tolerate.”

“Okay, but let me tell you now, there are a lot of clubs I don’t like.”

It was Eve’s turn to laugh, her hand automatically coming to cover her mouth as she grinned and giggled.

“Tell me anyway.”

“No music club,” Lilith said, right off the bat. “I’m a mediocre singer and I don’t want to spend two or three hours a week singing hymns.”

“Reasonable enough.” Eve recalled being given a small flier when they entered, the colourful paper listing all available clubs and emptied her pockets once more in search of it before crossing out the words “music club” with a pen she had found while looking for the paper. “Anything else?”

“No home economics. You know why.”

Eve just nodded an drew a line across it.

She was doing this to make up for what she did, not draw attention to it.

“And lastly,” Lilith said, voice tinted with humor as she tried to lighten the mood, somewhat guilty when she saw Eve’s face fall when she mentioned home economics, “no math club. ‘Cause I’m not a nerd.”

The girl succeeded, getting a tiny, genuine laugh from Eve that made her heart flutter like a hummingbird’s wing whenever it graced her ears.

“It’s fine, I’m bad at math too.”

Lilith visibly perked up at the words, the teasing grin Eve had so missed making a comeback at long last, “I never said I was bad at math. I’m pretty good at it, actually. I just don’t like doing it more than I have to.”

“Really?” Eve joked, displaying a mock-disbelief. Lilith was no idiot, though judging by her work ethic when it came to CLE, Eve couldn’t help but make a few assumptions. “What score did you get on the practice test a few days ago then?”

“Ninety-four percent.”

At that Eve’s eyes grew wide as saucers. That was better than she had gotten, and, more surprisingly, it was better than what Mary had gotten, ninety percent, an A minus that paled in comparison to Lilith’s A.

“Oh. That’s neat.” What could she say in response to that?

Fortunately, she didn’t have to struggle to say more, as Lilith returned the question to her.

“What did you get on the test.” Lilith wasn’t the type to gloat, at least not to a person she liked, but the thought of Eve thinking her a fool or a failure wasn’t the kind of image she wanted to project either.

“Eighty-seven…” She stared at the floor in shame, suddenly enamored in the scuff marks a muddy sneaker had left on the floor, shame flooding her face in the form of blood, her cheeks taking on a soft pink for different reasons now. Who could have left this here? A student who had forgotten to clean the soles of her shoes? A janitor, maybe?

Lilith couldn’t help but melt at the sight, immediately speaking to comfort the girl.

“Hey, come on. There’s no need to be embarrassed, that’s a pretty good grade, especially coming from someone who says they’re bad at math!” She clasped Eve’s shoulder and gave a gentle, encouraging squeeze, trying to get her to look up from the floor. “That’s like, what, a solid B? A B plus even?”

When that didn’t work, she slid her hand down to Eve’s and ran the pad of her thumb over the soft skin before giving another, more tender squeeze. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to embarrass you when I asked that. If you want, I can help you review for the next test?” She put on a smile and tried to sound optimistic, mind running a mile a minute as she tried to figure out what to say next.

“There’s always room for improvement!” Lilith said, stealing one of Paula’s lines in the rare occasion that Joan flubbed a test or lost a game. She’d have to thank her for that later.

Meanwhile, Eve hoped that Lilith wouldn’t be able to feel her pulse through her wrist, the pink hue her face took on having faded, only to return with a vengeance when Lilith opted to hold her hand, the way the girl soothed her thumb over her knuckles nearly sending her into cardiac arrest, the momentary squeeze stealing the air from her lungs and running for the hills, if only for an instant before she mustered up enough breath to speak.

“You’d really do that? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Are you kidding me?” Lilith grinned, incredulous. “Of course I’d help! With a score like that, there isn’t even all that much to do.”

The way Eve looked at her when she said those words, amber eyes adoring and brimming with marvel as it were, Lilith couldn’t bring herself to look away, it was like she was lost and slowly, willingly sinking into the entrancing, honeyed hue that was Eve’s eyes.

She could hardly handle being the subject of the girl’s gratitude-filled gaze, her heart clenching tenderly when Eve smiled at her, because of her, soft and sweet, dimples appearing on her rosy cheeks, unaware of the near-painful longing that welled up in Lilith’s chest.

In the split second silence, Lilith wondered whether it was for better or worse that Eve didn’t know how her heart ached whenever she made her smile, knowing that Eve, kind person she was, would never want to hurt her, even in the most gentle way, the soft tightening of her chest Lilith herself would sometimes even long for.

“Anyway,” Eve said, breaking the quiet that had settled over them, “I really can’t join the art club, so that’s out of the question. My drawing skills are literally non-existent.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! The best I can do are stick figures, bee doodles, and really loopy flowers.”

They scratched that off the list and began roaming around, Eve unsure of what clubs were a hard no for her but wanting to narrow down the list further.

“Oh, definitely no debate club.” She said out the moment she saw their stand, stopwatch, hardwood podium and all.

“Okay, but why?” Lilith took the list from her and crossed it out, skimming over it in search of clubs the both of them could enjoy.

“They’re sca-“

“Lilith!”

A girl with shoulder-length black hair swishing slightly with every step came up from behind them and hugged Lilith with a fierce grip, nearly making the both of them fall to the ground in the process, her long-suffering partner, local gossip girl, Margaret, merely trailing a few paces behind her, not wanting to be associated with the girl who managed to make at least eleven heads turn towards them.

“Joan told me everything this morning. Where is she?” The girl let go, swinging her head around frantically and craning her neck in an exaggerated search. “I’m gonna beat this chick’s ass if it’s the last thing I do!”

Finally, Margaret came closer and tried to put a stop to whatever was unfolding. “Swearing is against the rules, Julia. I can report you for that.”

The girl, Julia, apparently, turned to look at her partner, joyful demeanor fading in an instant.

“So is make-up and cheating, but you don’t see me yapping about it, do you?”

That shut Margaret up effectively, cheeks probably red with indignance under her foundation.

“Anyway, where is the bitch? I’ll-“

“Okay, before you finish that sentence, I think you should know that the girl you’re calling a bitch is right beside me. Right now.” Lilith said, grabbing her by the shoulders and making her face Eve.

Julia looked at her.

She looked at Julia.

“Hi.”

“Oh shit. Hey…” They stared at each other, a split second of tension filled silence passing between them. “I’m not taking back what I said though, you’re a bitch. I mean seriously, I get not being gay but did you have to- OW!”

Lilith’s elbow met Julia’s rib, harshly.

“When did Joan say all this?” She sighed. The last thing she needed right now was someone making Eve feel worse after everything that happened today, especially now that they were just starting to patch things up and talk free of any awkwardness.

“I already told you, she said all that this morning. We sat next to each other in CLE and passed notes while Sister Jane wasn’t looking.”

“Julia, you’re fucking nuts and I love you for that,” Lilith sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “but now is really not the time. Go ask Joan or Paula to catch you up on things, they should be around here somewhere. We’re busy looking for a club. Until they tell you what happened earlier, you can not call Eve anything except Eve.”

“Oh wow, okay. I must have missed something big if you’re defending the girl who made you sob so hard, you almost-”

“The details aren’t important! Besides, you weren’t there, so you don’t know what happened.”

Julia raised a brow at the girl, shutting up to help her save face, but going in for one last tease before she went looking for Paula to see the whole picture, “I literally just said that Joan told me everything, but okay.” She put her hands up in a sort of surrender. “Say what you want, babe! I’ll get the truth out of you the next time we get wasted anyways, so yeah!” And with that she turned to leave before, rather impulsively, Eve called out to her.

“What club did you join?”

“You’re really gonna look at me and not immediately assume I’m in the softball club? You offend me, Eve. I mean really! You know what they say about softball. It’s the sport of my people!”

The blonde merely stood in silence, absolutely dumbfounded, mouth opening and closing like a fish yet not a syllable leaving her lips.

Julia cackled, tossing her head back and ruffling her soft curls. “Oh God, she doesn’t know?” She asked Lilith, her eyebrows raised so far up that no one watching would be surprised if they receded even further back to join the hair on her head. “You really know how to pick ‘em, sweetheart!”

She walked away, giggling and giving them – well, more Lilith than Eve – finger guns all the while.

“Okay, I’m just going to ask. What was that whole thing about softball about?”

At this, Lilith herself couldn’t help but laugh. “Basically, it’s kinda a stereotype that, and this isn’t a thing we made up, lesbians play softball.”

Eve’s look of confusion turned to bafflement turned to a somewhat exasperated and incredulous amusement. “That makes no sense, but I’m going with it anyway. How did that even start?”

“I actually don’t know, but we went along with it too, cause why the fuck not? You know?” Lilith shrugged and they continued walking again. “There’s probably a bit of truth in there somewhere. It’s how Joan and Paula got together, so there’s that! And Julia has an ex that used to be a member.”

Eve took the list back from her while she was distracted, eyes quickly scanning over it to see if Lilith had crossed anything out while it was in her possession. “I’m assuming there’s a story behind that?”

“Yup!” She snatched the flier away from Eve once more, holding it high above her head when the girl tried to get it again. “But not one you get to hear. Not yet.”

She huffed at that. Eve, despite already standing on her toes, the four inch height difference between them made it so she couldn’t get the list back from Lilith.

“Okay then. But one last question.”

“Yeah?”

“Sweetheart? Babe?” Eve asked, a twinge of jealousy in her. Granted, she had no right to be, at least in her own mind she didn’t. She wasn’t even supposed to be feeling anything for Lilith other than disdain, but what could she do? Her only consolation was the fact she’d yet to act on said emotions.

Technically.

Eve tried to justify what she could, mind jumping from hoop to hoop, connecting loose strings, drawing lines between dots that were barely there. Earlier wasn’t anything akin to love. It was just a friend taking care of a friend.

Yes.

“Oh, that? Yeah, Julia calls everyone that, really. It’s nothing personal.” Lilith felt delusional. Were her feeling for Eve so strong as to warp her mind and affect her hearing, going so far as to imagine Eve’s voice with a pang of envy. “If you get on her good side, she’ll probably call you something too. Not what she called you earlier, though.”

A wave of relief washed over the blonde… followed immediately by guilt for feeling said relief.

It was nothing another round of mental gymnastics couldn’t fix.

The only reason she was relieved was because Lilith not being in a relationship meant that she wasn’t beyond saving.

Of course.

“I hope so, too.” Eve said. They turned to walk down a different aisle, about forty-five minutes left for them to find and join a club.

The pair strolled between stalls leisurely, narrowing down the list bit by bit, encircling the ones they had taken a particular liking to, chatting about clubs.

“The gardening club seems cool.” Lilith suggested, looking at their small stall decorated with small, origami flowers, the girls who ran it not having the heart to pluck what they had grown just yet. “It’s outside so I get some fresh air and it’s no sport, so you won’t have to strain yourself like you did in gym. Whaddya think of it?”

She looked over at Eve, only to see her frowning, a mix of disappointment and contempt in her eyes.

“I’d love to join, but I’m not allowed. My mom doesn’t like me gardening.” Her frown turned into a pout, eyes growing glassy with frustrated tears that had been building up for nearly a decade now. “She made me stop when I was eight because my hands were getting rough…”

“Use me.”

“What?”

“Use me as an excuse. Tell her I made you join it.”

Her words were temptation, the apple offered to Eve by the serpent.

Lilith held the sign-up slip and the red pen out to her, the folded paper an open invitation to rebellion. She wouldn’t force Eve, however, wanting this decision, this sin, to be hers and hers alone, the girl refusing to even write her own name on the paper.

Eve could feel the fifth commandment ringing in her ears, as the Eve before her knew she was defying god.

“Honour thy father and thy mother.”

And yet, Eve could also feel the dirt between her fingers and under her nails, the weight of a trowel in her hands, the sun beating on her back through the gaps in the leaves of their oak tree, the scent of the earth and the flowers carried by the breeze.

The nagging voice in her ears faded and morphed to the gentle buzzing of the bees and the high-pitched chirping of the birds.

Eve took the form and filled it up.

Eve took the apple and ate of it.

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Taglist: @anon-nom-nom95 @melpomenismask @littlemisscalamity @i-wanna-be-a-rock @extrabitterbrain @gaypeaches @phillyinthebathroom @leahstypewriter @madame-ree @pirateofblood

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themilky-way · 4 years

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the motive {loki odinson}

gif credit: astouract

pairing: loki odinson x female! reader

summary: he takes pleasure in the way you react to his words. it’s a fun game up until you’ve had enough, and everything he’s wanted is sitting before him. based on the morning by the weeknd.

warnings: was supposed to be hella implied nsfw but i guess i got soft halfway through BUT i redeemed myself so ha 😼. anyways, minor nsfw themes and language, so caution. tiny, TINY angst oops. we kinky in dis one

author’s note: i started school again so getting more works done will take a bit longer but i’ll try to write as much as i can! anyways hope this satisfies y’all 😌

-------

it had started out as a joke. a fun little game that would bring him some sort of entertainment during his stay on earth. and while it did work fairly well during the first few weeks, he never thought it would transition into this-whatever the hell this was.

loki was cunning and devious; it was part of his nature that would never cease to exist within him. he enjoyed causing some trouble here and there if it meant he kept a molecule of sanity. so when thor suggested he stay with him at the avengers tower, he thought he might explode. living in a humongous multi billionaire house with the people who wanted him dead? it was a set up. it had to be.

for loki, the first few weeks had been tolerable. he’d wake up in his assigned bedroom, fix himself a mediocre breakfast once the kitchen was empty, and then scurry up to a quiet place. he discovered that he could do as he pleased whenever the compound was free of residents, and since the avengers had much bigger threats now, he didn’t have to worry about them spying on him. it was false freedom, but he could live with it.

when he’d have such luxury, he would sometimes walk down to the common room to settle with a good book. sure, it may appear to be a boring pastime, but it wasn’t as if loki was going to throw an exuberant ball without tony’s permission. not that he was a man- dare he say god-of seeking approval, but it was common courtesy, for odin’s sake! he had morals he needed to follow, thus requiring him to partake in hobbies that would not get him in trouble.

however, when he came across a particular mortal one night, the values he sought after vanished. it’s as if they never existed at all, and once again the laws of time and space defied him. you were there, taking up his entire field of vision in just an oversized t-shirt. could it be your partner’s? loki questioned. it most likely was, yet he found himself hoping it wasn’t. in that moment, it didn’t help that his mind had stopped functioning. when you stepped into the kitchen, the shirt hiking up slightly with every step, his body didn’t allow him to look away. his novel was discarded far away on the couch, and his hands searched for some type of cloth to grip. it was here, with your body bent over and curiously searching through the refrigerator, that his carnal instincts heightened. then, his knuckles turned white when you finally noticed him.

“oh fuck, hi,” you gasped. the glass bottle you were holding dropped, but it knew better than to actually hit the floor. seconds after catching it, you turned to look at the stranger in front of you. “didn’t see ya there.”

loki tried-really tried-to think of a good reason not to bend you over again, on that lovely kitchen counter your fingertips were dancing on, and take you right then and there. perhaps it might seem a tad bit rude? would such an action be impolite? the right answer was yes: it was absolutely all of the above. a first date is necessary to win the heart of a lady, and then a couple more to build a friendship. the relationship would come naturally, with given time, of course. in his head, the god was scoffing at how eager he was to win this clumsy, beautiful creature. he was one who took what he wanted-whenever he wanted-and didn’t look back. but loki was confined to the dull walls of the compound, and apparently so were you. he needn’t worry, for time had joined his side once more; he’d get to know how sweet you could taste, how your mouth would mindlessly shudder out his name, and the man couldn’t be more thrilled.

“are you able to speak?”

the simple question reached him, and when he searched for the source, he came face to face with you. you were standing in front of him, in all your delicious glory, and it almost broke him. still, he was deceitful; you couldn’t know that. “of course i speak, you fool,” loki shot back.

“okay, well, you didn’t answer me back there,” you pointed out. your hands were neatly clasped behind you, excitedly rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet, when you extended a hand for introduction. your name confidently slipped out, giving loki the most tender smile anyone could offer him. “pleased to meet you, sir.”

sir. the name stirred something up inside him, and he wasn’t able to tell if he’d accidentally let out a moan upon hearing it. did you know how innocent you sounded? how ravishing you appeared right now-with the soft skin of your thighs drawing out the patterns he so wished to kiss, or how the outline of your bosom prominently showed itself through your clothes. he stopped himself, though, before he could cross the line between observant and creepy. the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable, having had the same dreadful feeling for far too long during his lifetime.

“don’t call me that.” the hand you were holding out was covered by his own. the handshake was quick, not too harsh or loose, but just adequate. he said his name, and he found himself missing the feeling of your skin against his.

“why?”

“because it’s not for you to say.” a lie. a very well calculated one, at that. he may be properly forged in the art of deception, but right now he wasn’t quite sure he passed the test. if he could grant permission to any woman to use the term of endearment, it’d sure as hell be you.

“alright then,” you mildly laughed. “i’ll just have to find a name i can call you.”

after that, loki realized that his source of happiness ultimately came from you. he enjoyed the unlikely bond you both had, one that formed because of the god’s inability to keep it in his pants. it was awkward at first-with everything you did or said locked in his mind wherever he’d go-but the confidence he always carried with him returned at one point.

today, loki never forgot to let you know what you did to him. this was it. the game he sought after since his inherent arrival at the tower. this was the adrenaline, the crazed connection he’d been hunting for centuries. it ignited something-between the two of you-whenever loki’s mouth would hover over your earlobe, whispering just how agonizingly slow he could take you. he never mentioned how he’d go about doing it, leaving you to wonder which part of him would fulfill the deed. oftentimes, loki didn’t even have to say anything. if he was feeling particularly shy that evening, and the team was all there, all loki would do was pat his knee. if you want to, if you really need to, you can finish on my leg. the simple image of it would have your hand between your legs that night.

“loki, what the hell.” you found him inside your dorm one particularly rainy night, lighting the candles you kept on either of your nightstands. “i keep my door locked for a reason, y’know. and stop wasting my candles.”

“i can’t help myself, darling. they smell quite lovely,” loki smiled. it was sincere, adoring even, and the way he took comfort in your tiny space brought a light tug to your stomach. you stayed still as you watched his tall form stride over to you. a small breath caught in your throat when loki peered down at you, and he caught it. he knew what he did to you, and he gained a new sense of pride at just how quickly he could make your knees go weak. his thumb and index fingers suddenly-gently-lifted your chin higher so your eyes could lock together. his own searched for something as if to look for the answer to his next question.

“you’re aware this isn’t just strictly physical, right?”

quite frankly, you were not in the loop even a little bit. “what?”

the tiny whisper made him want to carve out your lips with his own, slow, and taunting, and hard. he refrained for the time being. “think hard on it. there’s no rush.”

“no, i get what you meant. it’s just” you shook your head, prompting loki to let go of his grip. “i dunno. i thought you didn’t catch feelings, let alone for me.” loki let out a hearty laugh which forced a goofy grin onto your face. you liked seeing him like this. happy.

“i’m not stone cold, darling. you’re the only one i’ve ever had an infatuation with, though. well done, you seem to have captured my heart,” he joked. you giggled with him as you lightly shoved his chest, but loki caught your wrist before you could take it back. the kiss he brought to the inside of it had you swooning. a childish, girly feeling, yet you couldn’t care less. the both of you stayed there for a while and casually chatted until it was time for loki to head out. that night, you hardly got any sleep.

-------

ever since then, loki acted as if he didn’t remember it. he went back to his cocky self, not that you minded, but some simple recognition would’ve been nice. the days lapsed as they did before: loki doing everything in his divine power to make you ache for him. it worked, no matter how hard you avoided it, but soon you stopped trying. your body demanded for loki to touch you. to give you more than a simple brush of his lips to your wrist, yet he gave you anything but. and so you set out to change that.

it was the late hours of the night, with your team comfortably dispersed amongst the common room. movie night was in full effect, and no one had the intention of looking away from the gory film that was currently playing. you were seated next to wanda, the man you wanted painfully too far away from your reach. he didn’t have any clue you were angry with him, nor were you going to tell him. he was a thoughtful man, he’d figure it out.

you blinked away only to be met with his gaze. it was sharp, hungry. he looked you over as his tongue dipped out to run along his lip, biting it once he finally saw what he wanted. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t arouse you. of course it did; the poor man would rail you straight into this couch right now if he got the chance to.

you looked away, fearing vulnerability, and somehow managed to make it to the end of the marathon. you all said your farewell’s and deparated to your designated corridors, and just when you were about to close your door, a hand stopped it.

he pushed himself inside without much resistance from your own part. you stepped back and allowed him to close it, suddenly feeling a bit small. he looked at you then, the hunger replaced by confusion.

“is everything alright?” he inquired. no it’s not. you won’t shove two fingers into my mouth and tell me how good i’ve been.

“is everything alright-” you scoffed, “no it’s fucking not, loki.” you ran your hands through your hair and looked down, finding the decorative tiles on your floor quite intriguing.

“hey, woah, look at me. tell me what’s wrong, sweet.”

“that. that’s what’s wrong, loki. it’s the way you can tease me whenever you want, and call me sweet names and expect me not to react. you give me nothing to work with, for fuck’s sake!” a couple tears ran down your cheeks unbeknownst to you, but loki was quick to hold your face in his hands. his thumb wiped the drops in quick, tender-like motions and he crumbled at the way you focused on him.

“i’m sorry, darling. my intentions were never meant to bring you harm, much less sorrow. how can i fix this?”

“i need you to, fuck i-” you took a couple of breaths. “i need-want-you to touch me. to make me feel good, in all the ways you know how.”

loki chuckled quietly, a proud, defiant smirk curving along his lips. “is that what this is about? why, you could’ve just asked. no need for a tantrum.”

rolling your eyes, you tried to look away from him, but his hands began traveling to the curve of your neck, a lonely thumb parting your lips. he pried your mouth open and slipped it inside, letting the noise hidden in the back of his throat escape when your tongue wrapped around him. “is this what you wanted?”

your own luscious moan filled the room, and you felt his thumb push harder against your tongue.

“use your words, angel.”

an enticing gasp. “yes, sir.”

#loki x reader #loki fanfiction #mcu #marvel #loki odinson x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki odinson imagine #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #loki #loki x reader smut #loki smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader fluff

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nads6969istrash · 4 years

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A Eulogy to the Nads6969 Deviantart Account

Dearly beloved,

We are gathered here today on this most joyous occasion to celebrate the shamefully drawn out but nonetheless welcome banning of Deviantart’s resident fungus, Nads6969.

Despite describing herself as an artist with aspirations of becoming better and producing professional work, she instead nestled herself into the community like a tick and helped herself to other people’s artwork while her court of blind, mewling sycophants cheered her on.

If we should list Nads6969’s achievements, I assure you that they are few, and creativity will never be one of them.

Staunchly set in her status as a jobless slouch who stayed at home on the internet all day, she decided that learning to draw required too much learning. It also required too much time, something we all know that unemployed shut-ins supported by the government and the tired efforts of begrudged family members don’t have enough of.

Effort, to Nads6969, wasn’t worth the effort. Not when there was precious internet praise to reap during endless, uneventful days of doing nothing productive.

So began her 12 year career in tracing, which was nothing more than her make-believing that she was an artist by tracing off of other people’s hard work and passing it off as her own. Her existence on Deviantart was a poor, amateurish stage play that dragged on for far too many acts after the pity applause had long since ceased.

Her enablers enthusiastically celebrated her unoriginality and mediocrity, praising obvious, childish traces as works of art and feeding her engorged ego while ignoring the plight of her steadily growing list of victims.

And despite the slew of medication she claimed to be taking for various maladies, there is no doctor on earth that can fix a conscience.

This sentient void of unfeeling indifference spent her days seeking out the work of those more talented and creative than her and, like vampires who instinctively seek out beautiful things in order to own and destroy them, so too did she. And the overused sphincter she called her “imagination” produced unnecessary, disgusting amalgamations of the true talent of her victims and her own desperate, pathetic attempts for some aspect of her life to warrant praise.

Any attempts to correct her behavior were met with something even more engorged than her ego – her victim complex.

If you were not enthusiastically fellating her with undeserved praise of her nonexistent creativity and atrophied skill, you were a cruel, jealous bully and your words totally didn’t faze her and she would write an entire Status update or Journal post explaining how unfazed she was.

This drug-addled mess of a human being believed that her depression excused her from basic human tenets of courtesy (asking permission, giving credit, saying thank you) because her life struggles were apparently the worst in the world. So terrible, in fact, that she considered handing her own child over to her elderly parents so that she could focus on the most important thing in the world – herself.

Here is a quote from her:

“Right now, I am just interested in drawing random Sailor Moon related art. I have no inspiration for my fanmanga as of now with my depression that has come back to haunt my life. So much that I’ve considered letting my son be with my parents while I take care of myself.”

These were the four priorities in the life of this alleged stay at home mother… Self first, Sailor Moon second, child third, parents fourth.

The only other love in Nads6969’s life, besides Sailor Moon and tracing, was lying. She was amazing at lying. She lied to her friends, she lied to her watchers, and she lied to anyone who took even a moment to mention that her work looked suspiciously like someone else’s work, just uglier.

She lied about having/asking permission to use people’s works, she lied about creating/using sockpuppet accounts to support herself and attack others, and when the confrontations increased, she lied about tracing.

But in the end, it didn’t matter what she did or where she went. She was not wanted on any art site or image hosting platform. Artstation didn’t want her, Pinterest didn’t want her, Redbubble didn’t want her, and Deviantart didn’t want her. This poor, desperate creature longed for acceptance, but never once considered that, to be accepted, she had to play by the rules and treat others with the same respect she demanded for herself.

No matter what “art” she produced, it was always second-hand trash. Pieces that were built from scratch, from understanding anatomy and color and composition, became unskilled, regurgitated slop in her hands. And, after 12 years of being a slovenly Xerox machine, no improvement has manifested.

That is 12 years spent stagnating in mediocrity. 12 years spent focusing on a work of fiction, while the work of her own loins took second place. 12 years spent dreaming of producing something of value but never getting out of bed.

She wanted so desperately to look like an artist, but she never was one to begin with. At her core, Nads6969 was a dark, empty, ugly creature who choked on her own lies and drove people away just by being herself.

Everything she has lost - friendships, relationships, accounts, respect - are all the result of the radioactive Elephant’s Foot she calls a personality.

Failure was her destiny, no matter how many times she tried to outrun or outsmart it. Truth was her enemy, no matter how often she tried to suffocate or silence it. Justice was her executioner, no matter how often she tried to deceive and seduce it.

In the end, Nads6969 was a pitiful joke that no one laughed at, and soon, she will pass like a dead man’s last pungent breath in a world that never knew he existed.

#nads6969 #nadiastepputat #gonebutnotmissed #goodriddance #deviantart #sailormoon #tracing #eulogytoanasshole

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nocturnal-jeon · 5 years

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𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚜 ➛ 𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒

tattooed non idol!yoongi x female reader

@httpsoju for my wife

also i really loved writing this UGH

part one of the tattoo series

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Yoongi let out what sounded like a deep, manly squeal as the tips of your thumb and index finger closed around the skin on his arm, pinching him. Shooting daggers into your soul, the tattooed beau sitting in your client chair opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“Don’t fall asleep in my fucking chair, Min Yoongi.”

Reaching up with his covered hand, chipped black polish on his nails, he rubbed the now red skin with a scowl on his face. “I need you to give me like an hour and a half more, are you capable of that?” you asked with a teasing grin, staring up at him. In one swift movement, he flicked the exposed skin on your forehead causing you to swat his hand away. He let out a deep, throaty chuckle.

“It’s really not smart to piss off the person who’s tatting up your skin,” you lectured with a shaking of your head. Closing in on the pale skin of his arm, you once again placed the needle against the soft texture, tracing the outline you had drawn. “My usual guy doesn’t take this long,” Yoongi had the audacity to say, picking up his phone and scrolling through it. You huffed. “Well, you can sit here and wait until he comes back, then,” you sarcastically said, lifting the needle off of his arm.

He sighed deeply, slightly turning his head so he could see you.

“Don’t be stupid. Just finish it,” he instructed, all with a small yet gentle smile on his lips. Enduring nearly five years of friendship with the passive aggressive twenty six year old seated in front of you wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy knowing someone who always came off as judgmental and cold. It took you years to be able to read him, and while there were large sections of him he wouldn’t let anyone reach, you could practically read the other parts like a book.

And really, all it took was a few of his closest friends to realize the most shocking thing about him. He had a soft spot. Reserved just for you.

Hearing Yoongi hiss as you ran the needle over the same place caused you to chuckle. “You’re running out of space,” you commented, removing the needle to wipe away blood and dye. He sucked his teeth, throwing his head back. “I know,” his deep voice spoke. “I think you should let me do your other hand today,” you suggested, gazing down on his clean, untouched hand that rested on the dark black denim clothing his legs.

“We’ll see.” He winced as you applied a new, stronger amount of pressure to a certain spot. Looking down at the sparkling rolex on his wrist, he said, “I have plans later.” You scoffed. “What, to sit inside your vampire hut with the windows boarded up so the sun doesn’t bother you?” you joked causing him to nod as if that were true. “Curtains just aren’t doing the job anymore.”

It went silent for a few minutes as you focused in on an intricate and complex section. Getting bored with the basic apps on his phone, Yoongi turned his head to look at you, a little bit of his pitch black hair falling over his eyes. You had just the tip of your tongue sticking out of the side. You always did that when you concentrated. And he found it adorable.

Would he ever tell you that? Or anyone for that matter?

Hell no.

“Quit staring at me, Min,” you warned, eyes not leaving the spot they were trained on. “Just trying to make sure you don’t fuck it up,” he said, perfectly covering for himself. You raised an eyebrow as a reaction, but remained focused. Which he liked. No matter how much of a difficult asshole he was, you always remembered to stay focused on your craft.

At the sounds of the bustling streets and a certain high pitched bell going off, you could only assume that someone had entered the parlor. But you didn’t have any appointments after Yoongi, so it was probably Jungkook.

“I brought lunch!” the youngest chirped. Bringing the needle up off the skin so you could wipe the blood, you looked up and over at the tall teddy bear covered in tattoos. There was a stigma that men with sleeves of tattoos were scary assholes. And while Yoongi fit that to a T, Jungkook was the complete opposite. He was like a child who got left with a sharpie and got creative, making silly shapes and imagines on his arms and legs.

“Hey, Kook,” you greeted with a sweet smile. Jungkook was too much of a softie for you to tease him. That didn’t mean that the sneaky maknae wouldn’t tease the shit out of you and Yoongi. “I got you your usual salad, y/n, and Yoongi, I got you your chicken sandwich,” the youngest spoke, placing the bags down on an empty table.

You always asked for salads because you wouldn’t have to worry about it getting cold while you finished up with a client. “Here, give it to me,” Yoongi said as he reached out with his free, completely-covered arm. Jungkook reached his hand into the bag and handed his hyung the sandwich, giving him napkins, too.

The strong smell of the well seasoned chicken wafted through your nose and made your stomach grumble. But you were almost done. You just had to hold out for a little longer. You tuned out the conversation Yoongi had with the youngest and focused all your attention on the tattoo that was coming together nicely. And while you turned your ears off for the most part, you couldn’t ignore the feeling of hunger rocking your digestive system. Looking up for a split second, you saw that Yoongi hadn’t eaten much of the sandwich, but it sat nicely in his hand as he took a sip of his water.

Momentarily taking off the needle, you leaned over and took a big bite out of the other side of the sandwich, causing Yoongi to stop speaking and stare down at you. With a sly smile, you licked your lips as you chewed the sandwich, focusing your attention back on the tattoo as if nothing happened.

“Ew,” you said, face scrunching up. “Why did you get pickles? They taste horrible.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “No, fuck you. You’re not gonna eat my food and complain about it like you ordered it,” he grumbled, taking a huge bite and chewing with his eyebrows furrowed. Most would call his facial expression a pout. But that was a word no one was allowed to use with Yoongi.

Let’s not forget, he had that “bad boy” façade going on.

But if you got to know him for long enough, you would realize that he was just as soft, if not softer, than the maknae sitting comfortably in an armchair, some game on his phone.

Things were silent for a little as you finished up the tattoo, cleaning up the last of the blood before clapping Yoongi rather harshly on the shoulder, causing him to give a dirty glare. You just chuckled. “What do you think?” you asked as you angled a hand mirror so he could see without contorting his body. With a serious expression, his eyes ran over each small detail, accessing how well it was done in his mind.

“Oh, shit. That one came out so well. Nice job, y/n!” Jungkook exclaimed, leaning over Yoongi’s body to see. You grinned. “Thanks, Kook.”

“Don’t let your head get too big. It’s merely mediocre,” Yoongi huffed in his deep voice that almost always lacked emotion. That meant you did a good job, he just didn’t want to admit it. After wrapping it, you found your eyes drifting down to his bare hand, everything in you wanting to be the first to put artwork on it.

Yoongi followed your gaze, and once he saw that beautiful sparkle in your eye when the ideas were flowing through your mind, he chuckled. “Go ahead. Go wild,” he suddenly said, catching you by surprise. “But there isn’t a design you want?” you questioned, blinking just to make sure you heard him right. He shook his head. “You know I like to keep it meaningless down there,” he said, scanning his right hand, which was fully covered in smily faces and anime characters.

As you put on a pair of fresh gloves and prepared red ink, something Yoongi didn’t have on his body, Jungkook joked, “What if she draws a dick on there?” Yoongi let out a laugh, rolling his eyes at the younger’s immaturity. “She won’t. She’s not that stupid,” he explained, resulting in a firm flick on the forehead from you. Hovering your body over his hand as you rested it on the table, you began to get to work, your tongue peeking out of your mouth as you began to focus once again.

Yoongi leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to drift off to sleep. He was tired, after all. Well, he was always tired.

After what felt like forever with the needle on his skin, causing no pain or discomfort, Yoongi’s eyes opened when you suddenly took the sharp object off. Looking down at his hand, his eyes widened at the sight of the word written in bright red, your messy handwriting he loved and hated at the same time shining right into his eyes.

Date?

Looking up at you quickly, you swallowed hard as a light pink tint began to cloud over your cheeks. From the look in your eyes to the way you were fiddling with the gloves, he knew you were serious. And from the way you watched him with your lustful expression, breathtakingly gorgeous, he knew his feelings for you weren’t one sided.

But Min Yoongi was anything but a sap.

“Okay, I get that you’re obsessed with me and whatnot, but did you really have to permanently put that into my skin?” he complained, causing you to laugh. You knew that was his way of saying yes. “You guys are gonna be such a weird couple. You barely act like friends,” Jungkook commented, but both you and Yoongi shot glares at the young boy, causing him to immediately advert his eyes and get silent.

“Well, how about we sit inside of my boarded up apartment and watch a movie later?” he suggested, a cocky smirk on his lips as a way to mask how he was screaming like an excited child on the inside. “Sounds good to me,” you said with a smile as you began to wipe the disinfectant over the newly tatted art. He winced as it stung a little.

“You’re fine,” you said, giggling at how overdramatic he was.

“Kiss it better, y/n,” he murmured low enough for just you to hear. “Min Yoongi, what are you five?” you asked, but nonetheless, you placed a kiss on his hand, a good distance away from the word. “Not there, idiot.” You looked up at him, confused.

With his right hand, he pointed to his lips, a black lip ring securely wrapped around his plump bottom lip. You looked over at Jungkook who was trying to hide the fact that he was watching, but you could see his eyes darting over the top of his phone every now and then. A gasp escaped your mouth when you felt your body get pulled closer to Yoongi.

“You’re taking too long,” he mumbled, his hot breath against your face as he stared at you with his cold yet caring eyes. Placing your hand, bare and yet to be decorated, on his cheek to steady yourself, you let out a breathy chuckle. “You’ve always been impatient, haven’t you, Min Yoongi?”

Rolling his eyes far back into his head, his lips collided with yours. And on the contrary to his rough exterior, the kiss was soft and meaningful as his hands come down to hold your waist. Your lips moved against his perfectly as if his lips were a unique lock and only your lips held the correct key.

Taking his bottom lip and pulling it gently with yours, Yoongi’s grip on your hips tightened. Crashing his lips on yours once again, the kiss grew heated as his tongue begged for access, repeatedly running alongside the bottom of your lip.

You pulled away, however, keeping the distance of your heads close.

“I bet your regular guy couldn’t have done that,” you said, a smirk on your lips.

“You always know how to kill the mood, don’t you, y/n?” Yoongi groaned, causing you to giggle and pull away. After wrapping his hand, you prepared to get the bill ready as Yoongi stood up and stretched his limbs, giving glares here and there to a peeking Jungkook.

“Aish, she asked you out first. Pussy much?” the younger said as he looked up at the eldest. Yoongi lifted his hand just to get a reaction out of Jungkook, and when the youngest cowered, covering his face, Yoongi smiled, pleased with himself.

“You know,” Yoongi’s deep voice spoke behind you, startling you a bit as you calculated out the price. “Now that we’re a thing, is there a discount that comes with that?” he asked. You laughed and turned around, placing the slip of paper with the total price in his hand. “Nope.”

He frowned yet reached into his wallet and gave you his card. Just as you turned to make the transaction, his hand grabbed onto your wrist as he pulled you into him, a dangerous smirk displayed on his lips.

He leaned in and you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead his lips hovered right near your ear, the cold metal of his piercing sending literal shivers down your spine. “The work was phenomenal by the way,” he whispered. Slowly enough, his head came back up so he could see your whole face.

“Oh, I know,” you cockily said before removing yourself from him and going to do the transaction.

“Min Yoongi, are you blushing?” Jungkook exclaimed loudly. Yoongi glared at the younger once again. “Jeon Jungkook, thank you for the lunch. You may go,” the older darkly said, though Jungkook knew it was all in good fun. “You can’t have sex while his tattoo is healing!” the younger shouted as he made his way back towards the door that led out to the loud streets.

You laughed while Yoongi’s hands formed into tight fists. Walking your way back over to him, you gave him his card back. “I swear I’m gonna kill that kid one day,” Yoongi warned, stuffing his wallet back into his pocket. “Yeah, sure. You love him,” you pointed out.

And I love you, too, Yoongi thought to himself.

He always had.

But in time he would tell you that, his tattoo goddess. In time.

“You know, you can always get it covered up,” you said later on once you were in the comfort of Yoongi’s apartment, his sleeved arms protectively over your body. But Yoongi would never get it covered up. If anything, he didn’t want any other tattoos on his left hand but that one. And he loved that you made it red. It made it stand out. It made it so that every time he was composing a song and he looked down at his hand, he would know that the girl he was chasing after for years did in face like him back.

#bts #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts drabbles #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #bts suga #suga #suga bts #yoongi bts #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #adjust d

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funnynewsheadlines · 4 years

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Daughter Replaces Family Photos With Crayon Drawings One By One, Parents Don’t Notice For 11 Days

Almost everyone is bored out of their minds during this quarantine. Well, Kristen Vogler found a way to keep herself busy. She decided to mess with her parents with an innocent prank by replacing their family photos with pictures drawn with crayons.

“So I love doing harmless pranks in general and was talking to my younger sister about a prank someone pulled that involved replacing family photos with Nicolas Cage. But I don’t have a color printer, so knew that wouldn’t work. I happened to have a box of crayons and it all sort of clicked from there. That was several months ago, however. It wasn’t until COVID-19 that I found myself with more time on my hands and I actually could start it,” Kristen told Bored Panda.

More info: Facebook

The beginning: just a normal photo wall of memories

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

In her Facebook posts, she explained the whole process:

“In case anyone needs a laugh or some good news, I’ve been working on a project for the last 12 days, without telling my parents, waiting for them to notice. I started poorly recreating the framed photos on our wall with top-notch art supplies, aka—a box of crayons. Every day I replaced a new photo with a new, and terrible, crayon drawing. Sneaking these masterpieces up was not easy, I had to hide in the bathroom clutching the frames multiple times.”

It took her parents 11 days to see that the pictures had been replaced!

“I had a lot of fun messing with my parents during the downtime between Kristen Vogler Design projects. I hope you enjoy it, and if you know someone needing a mediocre crayon drawing, you know where to find me.”

Day 1

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“The first crayon drawing is placed, bets were made on how many photos and how long it would take them to notice.”

Day 2

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“After FaceTiming with my grandparents (the subjects of my first crayon replica) for an hour near this wall, I decided to add another piece while my parents took a walk.”

Day 3

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“Up to three crayon artworks now and still not even a glance. That door on the left? It’s used multiple times a day.”

Day 4

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“Thought I would get caught today. I had been posting on Twitter about my progress and my mom chose today to try to start a Twitter account to talk to John Krasinski about Some Good News but luckily her account was locked.”

Day 5

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“At this point, it was getting harder to pick photos I thought weren’t noticeable plus I felt like I smelled like crayons constantly.”

Day 6

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“After getting a ton of rain for days I was needing to get sneakier to be able to add these to the wall. I think today I convinced my mom to go for a run before it rained haha.”

Day 7

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“Today was a twofer with these classic Christmas photos. At this point, I was starting to think I should have guessed based on weeks and not days for how long it would take them to notice.”

Day 8

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“I legit did not think I would get this far, but here we are.”

Day 9

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“Only three left to go before my work is complete. I should probably take a moment to apologize to my art teachers. You tried really hard to teach me to draw people, and this is what I’ve done.”

Day 10

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“Happy Easter. My mom was nice enough to hide Easter eggs for me, in return, I did this to the photo of her firstborn.”

Day 11

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“I almost got caught hanging this one up. They had to hide in the bathroom but they still didn’t notice.”

Day 12

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

“I needed closure, Kerri wanted to be included.”

Here is the video with Kristen’s family’s reaction

Image credits: Kristen Vogler

from Funny – Bored Panda https://ift.tt/2xZv4uS via IFTTT from Blogger https://ift.tt/35hSXd7

#funny news #funny videos #funny news today #funny photos

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derieri · 4 years

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Sins of Abstinence - Preview

In another world, Merlin chose a side.

It’s the first scene of the demon!Merlin AU I’ve been waiting for since 2016, which I finally decided to buck up and write for myself. The end word count will probably be about 15k, and I need some motivation to finish it!

Feedback and hearing if other people are excited about it would probably be a game-changer, so tell me what you think!!!!

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“So… what’d you call ‘em again?”

“The Ten Commandments,” Meliodas repeated, looking over his four companions. Criminals, every one of them, accused of vile crimes and sentenced to death until he recruited them. Diane, King, Ban, and Gowther. In Liones they were known as the Horsemen. After his stint as the commander of Danafor’s Holy Knights, one might think this was strange company for Meliodas to keep. But really, his companions were the same as they had always been: terrible people doing terrible things in the name of redemption.

“Riiiight. And they’re all stupid powerful.”

“The Demon King’s best warriors,” King added in an anxious voice. Meliodas nodded.

“Yep. But there’s a few I’m worried about in particular.” He shuffled the papers spread in front of him; King hovered over his shoulder to look. The drawings weren’t perfect likenesses after being filtered through three thousand years’ memories and his miserable art skills, but he’d managed to capture the demons’ distinctive traits. He laid out three pages and explained them one by one.

“Estarossa’s tricky, you can’t let him fool you. He is my brother, as is Zeldris. He’s next in line for the throne.” His finger tapped the drawing with a spray of spikey black hair, round cheeks, and a dark glower. “Then, there’s Merlin.” He brushed Zeldris aside to expose a sketch of a mature woman.

“Is she your sister?” Diane leaned in through the window to ask. He shook his head.

“Nope, she was human.”

“Human?” Ban said. “Thought you said they were demons.”

“She’s different. In more ways than one,” he added. “She’s not a Commandment, but she’ll come too, if she’s able. The others will be weaker when they break free, but not her. I sealed her separately. And she’s been leeching off my power for the last nineteen centuries. I have no idea how strong she’ll have gotten, but I’m sure she’s formidable.” Around him, the Horsemen had gone oddly silent. He looked up at them. “What?”

“Captain, you almost sound… proud of her,” King said. Meliodas sighed and let his eyes slide shut.

“I do, huh? Well.” He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms behind his neck. “She’s probably mad as a spitting cat, and I don’t blame her. Point is, leave those three to me, alright?”

“… Sure, Captain.”

**-**-**-**-**

When the Horsemen had gone from the back room of the Boar Hat, Meliodas remained there alone, looking down at the drawings of his siblings. His fingers drifted over their faces. In his mind’s eye, all three of them are still just children. Estarossa, round-faced and eager; Zeldris, hungry to prove himself against his brothers; Merlin, as she was when he first met her, a sullen waif with her face streaked by ash. Gods, he was an awful older brother. Still, for Zeldris and Estarossa, he could tell himself that they were doomed to darkness from the start. Merlin, on the other hand—

Merlin was all his fault.

*** ** *** ** *** ** *** ** ***

“Meliodas!” An enthused cry was the only warning the prince of demons received before a young girl plowed into him at full force. He pulled up short, allowing her to wrap her arms around his thighs in a pathetic sort of hug. Gods, she was an excitable child. He’d never been this undisciplined—but then again, he wasn’t human.

“Merlin,” he greeted her blandly. “You seem… energized.”

She pulled away from his legs to look up at him, a bit more composed now but obviously in a good mood.

“I finished copying the scroll you gave me! Would you like to see it? And may I have another just like it?”

A small huff escaped between his lips. She was developing admirably. He’d never admit it out loud, but he was proud of her in a way—after all, he’d assumed responsibility for supervising her training. But he couldn’t take all the credit. Merlin possessed a raw talent for magic unlike any other he’d seen, her innate Infinity ability aside. It made her useful, remarkably so for a human.

“So soon? Not bad. I’ll look it over when I’m finished with the mission today. And I’ll prepare another for you as well.” She pouted and opened her mouth to complain, but he stopped her short. “Patience, Merlin. I can send for a tutor, if you’d like.”

Her nose scrunched up in distaste, as he’d expected it would. Between her uncanny talent and ornery behavior, she went through teachers like other children did sweets, exhausting their materials and their wits in a matter of hours. When he discovered that the fruitless lessons acutely annoyed her, he arranged lessons with the most mediocre scholars he could find and told them that she was a dunce. He got a great deal of amusement from watching Merlin’s frustration build until she snapped and chased them off with her unbridled ire.

“I guess I can practice what I already learned,” she sighed.

“Progress is progress. Practice will still do you well.” He gave her a patronizing pat on the head. “You’re far superior to any other human, at the least. Take pride in that.”

“I’m far above everybody. Even the teachers you get me don’t know as much as I do, just you and Gowther!”

“Talk is cheap, Merlin,” he said sharply, his eyes now dark and stern. He removed his hand from her head, dusting off his palms as he straightened up. “If you think you’re better, you better be able to prove yourself. You’ve already gotten yourself into trouble once that way.”

When he found her in Belialuin several years ago, he knew immediately that his father would want her. Revealing her existence to the Demon King made the perfect distraction while Meliodas explored his nascent emotions. He never imagined that she would try to con both gods for their power, but the spectacular backfire ended up being to his advantage. It was simple to woo her to his side when everything she knew had been obliterated, and easy to control her with reminders of her arrogance and promises of strength.

Her eyes darkened, slipping straight pass sorrow into bitter anger, then sharpened with resolve.

“I’ll do it! I’ll learn everything there is and be the best magician ever known. Good enough to kill anybody I want, demons or any other race.”

Ah, he liked that. Perhaps she would even be able to match even the winged monsters that called themselves holy archangels. But he would never say so: her head was big enough as it was. With a sly, almost malicious grin, he gave her another gentle pat on the head.

“Will you, now? Humans don’t live for long. In the end, time will be what does you in. Unless you find a way to kill that first.” He held back a snicker. “Only the greatest of mages manage that. It’s stuff of legends. Prioritize your work.”

“How long do humans live? I know we—they get hurt really easy, but…”

He shrugged. The details of a human life meant almost nothing to him: he only cared about it insofar as much as he could end it early.

“A century or two. Far too long for my tolerance. But if you end their lives short, they’re somewhat more bearable. So, you have perhaps two centuries to figure out how to extend your life long enough to be worth much. Whether you manage it is up to you.”

“It would be a lot easier if I was a demon,” she pouted. Meliodas only sneered.

“Obviously. But proceeding without struggle would only make you weak.” He paused to consider his words. “Weaker,” he amended, and she didn’t quite manage to restrain her flinch. Good. She could always use an ego check. No time like the present to remind her that her species’ nature was to mewl and cower, not keep pace with titans like himself.

“The King has no use for weakness. You’re fortunate to have been welcomed here after your gluttonous tricks. You would do well to ensure that He does not regret giving you a second chance.”

What happened to her was of no concern to him. She was a tool, a ploy to keep his father’s eyes off him while Meliodas got to know that goddess. If the volatile Demon King decided her petulance wasn’t worth it, he would end her— and oh, how easy it would be. But Meliodas had taken a liking to Merlin despite himself. If she had to die, then she’d have to die, but it would be quite a shame for her to end so quickly.

*** ** *** ** *** ** *** ** ***

Meliodas was the one who found her in Belialuin—an intelligent and, more importantly, powerful human that could swing the tide of the war. She was an ornery and ballsy little creature who knew the boundaries she crossed and didn’t really give a damn regardless, but it wasn’t hard to woo her to the Demon Clan once he introduced Gowther. She was thrilled to demonstrate her power to the King by freezing Zeldris in a block of ice.

He discovered that she was intelligent, exceedingly so for a creature of so few years. She could not keep up with a demon physically nor match their sheer power, but she made up for the deficit with her cleverness and razor-sharp instinct.

She grew quickly, as humans do, into a young woman with the heart of a snake. Her ego was still large, but she had potent magic power and a heap of cunning with which to back it up. Cunning enough to survive the dozens of battlefields where the Demon Clan warred in the decade that followed his defection. Cunning enough to flee the Coffin of Eternal Darkness before it was fully wrought, and cunning enough to disappear where none could hunt her down.

At first, he thought to let her go. She wasn’t evil, he told himself. Any influence the Demon King impressed on her was partially his own fault, too—his father wouldn’t even know of her existence if he’d kept his own damn mouth shut. She had been his bargaining chip, the proof of his loyalty in the precipitous years before he fled. And then he’d abandoned her in the lion’s den. His guilt kept him from pursuing her too doggedly.

That was his first mistake.

#fic: sins of abstinence #nanatsu no taizai #merlin #nnt fanfiction #nanatsu no taizai fanfiction #my fanfiction

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justalittlelitnerd · 4 years

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Angry God by L.J. Shen

Man this book was a wild ride from start to finish. I knew from Pretty Reckless and Broken Knight that Vaughn had issues that were borderline sociopathic (all of the main characters in the previous books comment on his weird habits and lack of emotions) but nothing prepared me for his almost psychotic behavior.

The book starts with the history of Vaughn and Lenora’s relationship which began on a family trip where he killed jellyfish and they bonded over a brownie. It then continued to them both attending a summer art program at Lenora’s father’s academy in London when they were preteens and Lenora witnesses Vaughn in a compromising position. A 13-year-old Vaughn breaks into Lenora’s room, darkly threatening her if she breathes a word of what she saw.

Five years later, they haven’t seen each other since that night, Lenora’s mom has died, her father and sister have moved to the US to they very place where Vaughn attends high school, and prior to her senior year they convince her to join them. Neither of them are the same, both darker and damaged by their teenage years. Lenora swears she won’t let Vaughn rattle her even as he makes it his mission to make her life a living hell. Between stalking her, breaking into her house, making her stitch him up when he’s been low-key (I say low-key because it wasn’t fully intentional) stabbed, drawing the wrath of all the mean girls to her, and a million other things that are absolutely insane they keep getting drawn together by a sort of unhealthy possessiveness & obsession.

This book was by far my least favorite of the three and that was in part to the lack of a clear trigger warning. I knew based on the previous books that the family dynamics would be complex and the characters would have an unexpected darkness to them. But nothing prepared me for the violence, the public sex acts (though it was mentioned in the previous novels), the BLOOD PLAY (just really not my thing), and the graphic sexual assault/molestation. I had a feeling going into this book that something happened to Vaughn when he was younger to create his issues with sex and intimacy, but I was by no means expecting it to be graphicly depicted. Talking about the psychological effects of molestation is one thing (it still needs a trigger warning, but it’s important to discuss) but actually showing the acts is completely another. As soon as I realized what was happening I skimmed the retelling because it was just too hard to read and I couldn’t imagine how someone would feel if they had similar experiences.

So basically approach this book with caution.

Keep reading for my favorite quotes from this crazy novel.

Ars Longa, Vita Brevis. Art is long, life is short. The message was clear: the only way to immortality was through art. Mediocrity was profanity. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and we were leashed upon each other, hungry, desperate, and blindly idealistic.

We had the talent, the status, the money, and the opportunity. But if we were silver, Vaughn Spencer was gold. If we were good, he was brilliant. And when we shone? He gleamed with the force of a thousand suns, charring everything around him. It was like God had carved him differently, paid extra attention to detail while creating him. His cheekbones were sharper than scalpel blades, his eyes the palest shade of blue in nature, his hair the inkiest black. He was so white I could see the veins under his skin, but his mouth was red as fresh blood—warm, alive, and deceiving.

Lenora didn’t strike me as a party girl. She had the strange gene, the one that made her stick out like a sore thumb wherever she went, even without the Maleficent wardrobe. I could tell because I had it, too. We were weeds, rising from the concrete, ruining the generic landscape of this yacht club town.

Watching her react to me was like feeling the first rays of sun after a long winter.

“Y’all gonna slow-dance to a Billy Joel song? If so, don’t forget to leave room for Jesus. And Moses. And Muhammad. And also Post Malone, because hey, he’s kind of a religion now, too.”

My heart accelerated to a dangerous speed, fireflies bursting forth as though escaping a Mason jar. Kissing him was like standing on the edge of a cliff. Nice view, but you knew it was deadly. Still, a stupid, irrational, dangerously alive part of you still wanted to hurl yourself down to meet your own demise. I felt his lips on more than just my lips. I felt them in my fingertips, all the way down to my toes. I felt them when my skin broke into goosebumps.

Heartbreak was a mystical, double-edged sword from where I was standing. And I had no desire to experience the full range of emotions in a car crash of feelings. Not ever going there.

“I don’t believe you, but I’ll still catch you,” he said. “I will always catch you, the fucking dumbass that I am.” “What do you mean?” “You soften me.” “Why?” “Because I don’t want to fucking kill you! You’re too fun to fuck with. Now Get. The. Hell. Down.”

There was nothing more beautiful than watching Vaughn Spencer let go.

I said nothing, not really in the mood to correct her and tell her I hadn’t asked whether she believed in ghosts or not because I knew the answer already. It was what made her presence bearable. When we were in a room together, all our ghosts were waiting on the other side of the door. I could hear them.

Strong words, but time, I found, had two opposite effects. Either it made the pain dull and evaporated the anger or it allowed you to stew in your fury, multiplying your rage.

"Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are a bit unhinged.” He said “a bit” for the sake of civility. Truth was, you couldn’t be a bit unhinged, just like you couldn’t be “a bit” dead. Being crazy demanded commitment, which I certainly showed.

He came to her room every night. Not that I was keeping tabs or anything. I was just in the neighborhood when it happened. And by in “the neighborhood,” I mean in her hallway, lurking. And by “in her hallway, lurking,” I mean clearly I needed professional help, an intervention, and a fucking life. I found myself standing behind a Louise Bourgeois statue for hours daily, waiting like some kind of a rabid Belieber.

I pushed the door open, hoping to find her working or reading or converting to a religion where she could only have sex with people named Vaughn Spencer.

I knew Vaughn was incapable of falling in love, but I wanted to steal pieces of him. His time. His talent. His words. His smiles. And yes, his virginity, too. I was a thief of everything Vaughn Spencer.

“I am hell bound, and you are heaven sent. You’re the first girl I ever looked at and thought…I want to kiss her. I want to own her. I wanted you to look at me the way you look at your fantasy book—with a mixture of awe, anticipation, and warmth. I gave you a brownie, hoping you’d remember me sweetly, praying the sugar rush would spin a positive feel around that vacation. I remember how you looked at me when you saw me killing jellyfish. I never wanted you to look at me like that ever again.”

At nineteen, I no longer had a beating heart. I wore a death mask everywhere I went, and I was thirsty for revenge. For his blood. There was just one, tiny problem that did not occur to me beforehand. Namely, his niece, Lenora, who’d shoved a heart back into my chest. Now that it was beating again, I didn’t know what to do.

We were an unfinished business, personal and always walking the tightrope between love and hate. But we were always something, Len. We will always be something. You might move on and marry someone else, have his children and get your happily ever after, but you will never be completely done with me. And that’s the small chunk of mirth I allow myself. That’s my half of the brownie. That’s my one, perfect summer moment in the South of France, watching the face of the girl I will love forever for the very first time. Because, Lenora Astalis, this is love. It’s always been love. Love with many masquerade masks, twisted turns, and ugly truths. I don’t know where I’ll go from here, but I’ll be wishing you were there...It is worthy and beautiful, just like you. I wish I were strong enough not to do what I need to do. I wish I could get the girl. Because, Len, you are her. You are that girl. My safe place. My asymmetric happiness. My Edgar Allan Poe poem. You are my Smiths, and my favorite fantasy book, my brownie, and summer vacations in lush places. There will never be anyone else like you. And that’s exactly why you deserve someone better than me. Love, Vaughn

He just hung in the pregnant air, suspended by strings of cruel hope and tragic impossibility. Heartbreak had a taste, and it exploded in my mouth every time I tried to smile.

“You saw what I wanted you to see. I think I always had this idea that you should be my savior, but naturally, the stubborn ass that I am, I didn’t understand it. Now I do. I want you to save me today, and tomorrow, and in a month, and in a year, and in a decade. Save me. Give me your best and your worst and everything in between. I’ve always watched my dad loving my mom and thought he was stuck in a state of insanity. But he wasn’t. Turns out, love really can be that fucking intense.”

#angry god #l.j. shen #all saints high #vaughn spencer #lenora astalis #vaughn x lenora #hs romance #enemies to lovers #bully romance #new adult romance #romance books #books #book blog #booklr #quotes #book quotes

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bsd-hq-writer · 6 years

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I hEaRd U wRiTe BnHa... request for a gal that can invoque a Golem (made of whatever is surrounding her) that copies her movements. She's in 1-A, wanting to be a hero. But she's also an artist. Would fall for Hitoshi (cuz she's kind af, tho pretty smart and fun), Todoroki or Midoriya. Kissus! SZ

This is a great request, and I had a great time filling it! I went pure fluff with this one and I one-hundred percent did it with Hitoshi, cause this tired boy needs more love! ~Admin Ghost

Metal was great, there was never enough metal around and it always made your golems harder hitting as you directed them through the fight. Today’s one on one battles had you matched up against Sato, who had already taken down a couple of your golems, but you had kept them small enough that you still had the energy to make a couple more. The rubble of the battleground was great because you didn’t have to expend as much energy to break the materials up and assemble them into a golem, but finding good material was harder. Bricks were decent for structure, but not very durable, metal was much stronger but heavier to move, and concrete was plentiful, but again it wasn’t super durable either.

Sato rounded the corner of another building, already raging through another round of his sugar rush and despite the cuts he was covered with, from the glass fisted golem you used before this one, he was still going full steam. You got yourself into a fighting stance and your golem copied you. Every move you made was made by the golem, and it stayed at the exact distance from you that it was created at, like a puppet. You let Sato get closer before throwing your golem at him, the first punch was a write-off as he smashed right through it, but the second fist came immediately after, sending a swift uppercut into his jaw using a chunk of an I-beam you’d used some extra energy to detach. He bellowed and you let the broken arm batter him again in order to give you another opening to smash him with the metal fist. He was ready as he sent a flurry of punches directed at the shoulders of your golem and you instantly regretted not reinforcing those. You, however, didn’t regret putting another chunk of that beam into the golems foot as you smashed Sato right in the chest and knocked him flat.

In the end, you won due to the fact you could keep yourself relatively well hidden as not to get captured before you managed to score a knock out blow with a condensed Golem. Yet Aizawa still managed to find something to criticize.“With your position as hidden as it was, you could have held off on sending your golems out to fight, sometimes the best method of defense is to wait out your opponent, let them tire themselves looking for you, instead of wasting energy,” he lectured you tiredly, “but you still won, so you pass, you can leave now,”

Getting let out early was a relief since Aizawa was doing some personal matchups, he had agreed to let people go as they finished their fights. Honestly, some of them were clearly for one person’s benefit, but her’s had seemed rather mediocre, more of a battle of stamina between the two of them.

“If you think much harder, I wouldn’t be surprised if you started muttering,” a voice broke you from your train of thought.

“Oh geez, Shinsou, you startled me,” you let out the breath you had sucked in, “Want to got sit out on the lawn again? I got let out early,” you offered quickly. Shinsou had caught your eye in the sports festival, though he’d done it for a very different reason than anyone else. “What so I can lie around and let you drawn me some more?” he chuckled, “I’m not sure what to make of being your only model,” “You’re not-” you stopped mid-sentence as Shinsou’s quirk took hold and at his command, you spoke the truth, “You’re the only model in this sketchbook,- Geez, Shinsou!”

“Haha, it’s not like I didn’t already know, but hearing it from your mouth makes me feel somewhat better,” he chuckled as you punched his arm. He flinched but it was all show, he had been training lately, still making his bid for the hero course.

That had sparked a minor animosity between the both of you, a spot had been freed up in the hero course and you had been the general studies student picked to fill the hole. Not that you knew Shinsou much, other than from when the general studies classes got together, but he had really stood out in the sports festival, something you had missed due to an unfortunate bout of the flu. Even still you had been training hard and when the spot opened you didn’t hesitate to put your name forward. The day it was announced, and you earned a few glares, but none more spine-chilling than Shinsou’s.

A week after your transfer he caught you in the library watching footage from the sports festival and sketching him idly. He hadn’t actually told you that until you became friends, but by then you had filled half the sketchbook, he just accepted it. It took him a while to convince you he didn’t care, but after a while, you just started asking him when you wanted to draw.

“So how come I never see any of these drawings in the student gallery?” Shinsou asked idly as you drew him up in a tree that you insisted was perfect for some perspective sketches.

“Cause I mostly sculpt, you know with my quirk?” you said offhandedly, “I figured out I can half make my golems short of fusing their movements to mine,”

“Those are yours?!” Shinsou gasped.

You didn’t stop sketching, but there was a blush creeping up your face, “Yeah, I thought you knew,”

“No way!” He jumped out of the tree down to where you sat, “Which ones?!”

“The dragon and the swan are the two I have on display right now,” You fidget with your hands. You submitted your pieces anonymously and yet you found yourself telling Shinsou outright, you wondered if he was using his quirk again, but at the same time maybe you had just wanted to admit it to someone other than Midnight, who managed the art displays.

“I saw the swan go up and I was instantly taken by fascination and when I found it was anonymous it drove me crazy because…” he seemed to reign in his excitement at the last moment, “It’s fine, you have your reasons,”

“Shinsou…” you sighed. He looked really conflicted like he also wanted to admit something. He was a pretty private person after, and you seemed to realise just how close you two had grown in the past months.

“You can continue, I don’t mind, cause I know you,” You prompted him and he looked up into your eyes, slightly taken aback at your soft tone.

“I,” he cleared his throat nervously, “I thought it was so beautiful, but so deadly at the same time. The glass you used, the jagged edges, really made it meaningful. Swans are an icon of beauty, but at the same time are the most ill-tempered birds. Its such a powerful parallel, and glass reflects that, literally and figuratively. Glass shards are deadly, but at the same time they refract the light cast down on them into such wonderful patterns littered with tiny rainbows,” He began to ramble, “And the way the lights are set up its absolutely glittering, I couldn’t believe it was just broken glass,”

You couldn’t believe the way his eyes were basically shining, he genuinely loved it and you felt your heart swell, “I didn’t even think anyone would look that closely, the lighting is part of the sculpture, Midnight helped me set it up just right,”

“I had to spend a while looking at it from all angles, and I was amazed at just how much the perspective changes,” Shinsou took your hand in his and shook it, “I’m glad it was your art, because-”

You waited a moment for him to continue but he didn’t, “What is it? You can be honest,”

“Because it reminds me of you,” Shinsou said quietly, “Beautiful,”

That sent the blush that had been creeping up your face straight to your ears and your voice came out as a sputter of sounds. That drew a laugh from Shinsou that surprised you. He wasn’t the kind of guy to just burst out laughing, but here he was laughing at your nervousness so openly.

“I shouldn’t laugh, sorry,” He said after he regained composure.

“It’s fine,” you cut in before he could say more to embarrass you, “I like the sound of it, your laugh I mean,”

It was Shinsou’s turn to be surprised, and you didn’t miss the way his face changed colour before he put you under his quirk’s control.“Just stand still for a moment,” he told you as you froze in place obediently, even though you wanted to berate him for using his quirk now of all times, “Jeez, this isn’t exactly how I wanted to confess, but I can’t really see a way around it now,” You felt his control slip as he settled his hands lightly on your arms, squeezing them slightly before letting them slide down to link your hands.“I don’t really think I want a way out, do you?” You hummed looking up at him, sharing a moment of eye contact before his gaze fell again to your hands clasped together warmly.

“No, I like this,” he nodded slowly. It looked to you like he was waking up from a long sleep and you itched to be able to draw this moment so you could keep it forever, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scratch that itch, especially when he stepped closer, closing the space between you and slipping his hands around your waist, still holding you gently as if you were made of the same glass you used for your sculpture.

“I won’t break,” you let yourself press closer, your faces centimetres apart, “Will you?” you almost whispered as his head seemed to drift closer to yours.

You always imagined your first kiss would be explosive, full of sparks and fire. That had seemed like the perfect first kiss, the one all the girls at your middle school had raved about having behind the gym or in a supply closet, not that you’d really believe these girls really had liked the boys that much as the declarations came with a scoff and an inevitable denial.

This was different. This was perfect. You barely registered when your lips met, but suddenly he was so close and it was gentle and warm. This was a boy you genuinely liked, holding you and kissing you, somehow able to express himself so thoroughly with such a small gesture.

“Shinsou,” you sighed as you broke apart but when he shook his head, you had to smile and fix your error, “Hitoshi,”“F/N” he grinned, clearly satisfied with the situation at hand.

#Anonymous #Admin Ghost #bnha #BNHA FANDOM #female reader #reader #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenario #scenarios #golem quirk

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kandadiff · 5 years

Text

Dollhouse (3) : The Bat meets the Clown

Mariah Carey played lowly from her speaker in the top floor of the old warehouse that once stood as a proud and industrious factory. The sun was high in the sky and the once stray dog that attached himself to the girl singing along softly laid in the corner watching her with sleepy eyes. Makayla put the paintings in the industrial oven and finally took off her face mask. She wiped her face getting paint over her cheeks and mouth, she gave a small giggle as she set the timer carefully. It had taken her all morning to forge Melanie Fae’s famous painting of “The Red Girl.” The Fae’s were a staple in this town she moved to a few short months ago but their art wasn’t that great, she suspected the only reason anyone wanted this mediocre painting at best was because it had The Fae’s great-great-great grandmothers name attached to it meaning it was old the man was willing to pay her a quarter of a million for it. That should keep her going for a few months, its not that she didn’t like what she did, she did and she was good at it but ever since her stint with Jack and “The Pack” as he so affectionately called the group she was weary of doing anything like that again. But hocking this painting shouldn’t have much of a blow back, it’s not even that famous. She was the one who helped steal the real Mona Lisa out of France, forge the one in the Louvre and sold it to some Italian billionaire.

She smiled to herself at the memory of the pack together working hard to bypass the incredible security at the Paris Museum, they nearly got caught 3 times. Once when the hatch Kay was in the retrieve the real painting wouldn’t open for three long minutes, another time when Max was stalled at the gate to retrieve both Adi and the painting hidden in the lining of her coat and again when the guards stopped her when she was about to leave. She thought it was because she had little splashes of paint on her arms but it was because they were warning her about her shoe being untied. While she was glad she escaped and would never want to go back, she missed everyone. They were like a family – and it wasn’t always bad, things were good when Jack was happy and even when he wasn’t they stood together as much as they could. “I miss them.” She said to the dog she named “Taz” after the Looney Tune, “so much.”

She felt herself slipping into a memory but right now wasn’t the time, she couldn’t be there right now. She had a job to do, she glanced at the timer on her phone … still a half an hour to go. She sat in front of the oven where Taz shuffled over to her and she pet his head trying to focus on feeling his fur, she was in Newcrest right now, she was in a warehouse doing a job. She wasn’t with Jack anymore, she wasn’t with “The Pack” right now. She sang along to the song as she pet Taz’s hair waiting until she could take down the hot outfit she was wearing, her hair was tied up in a shower cap, she was wearing a thick apron and thicker gloves - as to not get any DNA stuck on the painting.

She was thrown out of her thoughts when Taz stood up tall, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as he let out a low growl. Makayal reached for the knife she always kept in her shoe and crouched waiting for footsteps. The heavy door creaked open and she heard multiple footsteps, Taz growled lowly and once she heard someone get close enough to them she grabbed the man by his long hair and forced the knife to his throat. “Mickey it’s me!” Edward shouted and Makayla instantly released him.

“Wow!” Her eyes met with the blue eyes of The Clown Prince of Crime himself. “I already like her!” He stood tall and intimidating with his cane and long purple coat, his huge smile reeked of madness and for a moment she was just hypnotized by her own reaction to him. No one had ever made her as immediately on edge since Jack Candie stepped into her life. She shot a glance at Edward and stepped back but didn’t release the knife in her hand.

“Relax,” Edward said stepping closely to her, taking her hand in his larger one in a comforting gesture. “Let go, he’s not going to hurt you. Please let go.”

“I thought you worked for DeMarcos” she whispered into his ear but he shook his head and his eyes pleaded to trust her. She released the knife into his hands but kept her eyes trained on the Clown.

“I know you must have a lot of questions, like why is Eddie here with handsome me instead of the fat bird DeMarcos, but I assure you I am much better to have here.” He let out a loud menacing laugh. “Sorry to drop in unannounced but since I am paying you… I did anyway.” She gave a slight nod and he laughed again. “So little ray of sunshine how are you doing?”

“Fine.” She answered “The paintings almost done just” she glanced at her phone “16 minutes to go.” He made a frown and shook his head gesturing his cane around.

“That is just awful.” He clicked his tongue together as he strolled around the table were her paints were, he threw off his gloves and picked up a large paint brush dipping it in red paint and turned towards her again. “How much did you spend so far? On all of this?”

She glanced confused at Edward who just motioned for her to answer “Well the paints weren’t that hard to find, the most was the canvas since it had to be made from a special material.” He looked at her clearly wanting a number. “about $5,000.” He walked up to her and she did her best not to cower before him. He smiled and handed her a thick stack of $100 bills.

“Its about $10,000 in there it think, I don’t know take it all but the job is over. DeMarco’s isn’t getting that ugly painting.” His voice suddenly went to a growl as he turned back to the windows with the red paintbrush drawing a big red smile on the two biggest windows. “I’m going to burn that ugly shit, and now you work for me.” He turned back to her as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Work for the playhouse?” She questioned with a smile of disbelief then looked at Edward.

“DeMarco’s is going down Mickey, everyone hates him and since you’ve been selling paintings to him people think that you are part of the DeMarco’s crew.” Edward said and Makayla made a face.

“Ew, never, he is disgusting them only reason I sell him the paintings is because hes the only one who asks for them!”

“Not anymore Little Sunshine!” The Joker said still painting on the windows. “I’ve seen how much money that fat boat rakes in because of your skilled little hands. So has the other gangs, but they’ve taken to eliminating that chubby penguins crew… Edward has grown a soft-spot for you and wanted to save you. For good reason, nearly got his neck cut off today to offer you a spot at the Playhouse.”

“I don’t work for any gang.” Makayla said again and J nodded fully turning to her once again.

“You know that, Ed knows that, I know that but we aren’t the entire city are we? And if you work for me, you get a fun nickname and no one fucks with you.”

“I Know about your gang, I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He smiled walking up to her “You won’t, I’m not hiring you for that” he laughed as though she just told a joke “You are strictly for the art you make, and just so that far tug boat can’t have you and you won’t die when his crew goes up in smoke. Deal?”

She looked down at his pale outstretched hand and couldn’t help but think of Jack when she stared at it.

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nightimagines · 6 years

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Prompt request for ososan with oso, ichi, and todo with "you are the best thing that's ever happened to me" plss!

This was fun to write and I haven’t written anything in ages. I’m really rusty so I hope you don’t mind, friend. Thanks for requesting!

— Mod Red ☆

triggers. Alcohol, Swearing/Profanity

word count. 1.332

OSOMATSU

“[Name]! Drink with meeeeee!”

Now you knew why Todomatsu had sent you that urgent text to come to Chibita’s stall. Of course, those five NEETs would be too lazy to haul their drunk-ass brother home. Why would they bother with that when they could just send you to do the job?

Naturally, you offered to pay for what Osomatsu had drunk but Chibita refused to let you pay for any of it. Not wanting to dive into a full-blown argument with him, you hoisted the drunk Matsuno to his feet instead, slinging his right arm over your head with your hand resting at his left shoulder. Bidding Chibita a good night, you set off for your place instead, seeing as how it was closer to the stall than the Matsuno residence.

During the walk, Osomatsu stumbled and tripped a lot over his own two feet, which made it all the more harder for you throughout the entirety of the walk. Not to mention all of the complaining and shouting he did to make you turn back to Chibita’s stall. Unfortunately for him, you were resilient and determined to take this idiot home. Once you arrived and opened your apartment door, you immediately dumped the drunk man on the couch to gather up some blankets and pillows for him to use. You were quick to find some and you went straight to arranging his bedding for him.

Without any warning, Osomatsu grabbed onto your forearm while you were fixing the pillow behind his head, drawing all of your attention to him. “H-hey, [Name],” he began with a cheeky grin plastered on his face, “I want you to know that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

There’s a sudden rush of blood to your cheeks and the room suddenly felt too hot to stay in, too heated for you to linger around anymore. No, he didn’t know what he was saying, he was too wasted to understand a lick of what was coming from his mouth.

You kept a straight face. “Osomatsu, you’re drunk.”

He tried to reason with you as he hiccuped a few more times from the liquor, “But it’s— it’s trueee!”

It was useless trying to talk to him when he was intoxicated. You tried to leave but he clung to your arm harder while spewing out nonsense. Too bad for him; he’s much too drunk to be able to use his strength to keep you here, and you’re not exactly a pushover. He did put up a little fight and he desperately wanted to say a few more things to you, however, you were successful in detaching him from your arm.

Once he lost hold of you, he was quick to forget whatever goal he had in mind and before you knew it he was already knocked out cold from the booze. The room fell silent with nothing but Osomatsu’s snoring to keep you company in the dark. The heat you felt slowly ebbed away and you suddenly had a strong desire to leave the room at once.

Of course, you should be sleeping now, too. It’s already midnight and you still had a morning shift to cover for tomorrow. Or rather, it would be today now that you think about it.

Whatever, you needed sleep.

ICHIMATSU

It was late in the afternoon and you were huddled together with Ichimatsu on your bed. He was playing with a cat and you had a book that you were hoping to finish this week.

It’s when you flip the page to the next chapter when Ichimatsu caught your attention. He was staring intently at you while the cat mewed frantically in his lap for the toy he held in his right hand. He’s embarrassed to be caught staring and he’s back to giving his undivided attention to the feline pawing at the lime green toy.

A few minutes have already passed and you’re still wondering what that was about. Ichimatsu’s mouth opens and closes a few times as if the words he wanted to say would choke him on the spot if you heard him. You knew how hard it was for him to express himself with others, especially with the people he cared about.

He finally says it out loud, well, loud enough for you to hear at least. “I lov…” He closes his eyes as he thinks the words over once more, “…. you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, [Name].”

This flustered you on the spot. He never had a penchant for the art of speech so he preferred to show it instead. So it was quite rare for you to hear something so sentimental from him, and you were proud to see him trying beyond his boundaries.

“I love you, Ichimatsu.” You said it with a smile and a soft tone that was only meant for him in the same way that he reserved a loving side for only you to see.

His eyes flickered to the side and suddenly he’s much too shy to meet your gaze anymore. The pink blush he had worsened when you decided to rest your hand against his.

“I meant that Ichimatsu,” your eyes wandered down to your touching hands and you watched how flustered he was from the contact of your fingers resting against his knuckles, “I really do love you.”

He breathed out a heavy breath and the next thing he says comes out in a hushed tone, “Me too, you… matter a lot to me.”

God, you loved this man.

TODOMATSU

Todomatsu was right next to you with a hand resting at your shoulder and the other interlacing fingers with yours. You were both watching a cheesy rom-com around 10 at night in your apartment. It wasn’t anything memorable and it was mediocre at best. And yet the thought of being together, settling down to start a legacy that was yours to keep was something you yearned for with him.

The last of the credits rolled up into oblivion, leaving you to stare at nothing but an inky black screen. The sensation of his fingertips disappeared from yours and you were quick to grab onto his forearm to make him stay. Anything Todomatsu was about to say was cut off by your pensive look.

The words lodged themselves in your throat, too heavy to break free from your mind, from your soul. But you tried nonetheless, tried to know if anything at all between you two meant something at all. “Todo, do you ever wonder about the future? ”

His expression fell into a serious one, every single sign of playfulness was erased and he took a moment to think it through. “I do, actually,” he goes to connect your hands in a comforting hold, something he loved to do, “And I won’t be afraid to try anything with you there by my side.”

Everything about the look on his face was soft and sincere. There’s something special about the way his eyes twinkle with an unspoken promise of being together forever.

There’s a sudden stillness in the air, a sudden bout of importance reserved for you both. You didn’t care about anything else at that moment, didn’t care about the hot tears rolling down your flushed cheeks while you engulfed him in a hug. All that mattered was him and you would trade anything to spend a lifetime with him.

You broke down into a mixture of choked sobs and a fit of nervous laughter, “Ugh, it’s just— you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, okay?”

He could only chuckle and leave a chaste kiss on your forehead, a hand at the nape of your neck and another at the small of your back. “That’s my line, [Name]!”

If you had a choice to pick who you wanted to spend an eternity with, you would always go back to him and only him. Every second with Todomatsu was a second well spent and there was no one else you would rather spend a lifetime with than him.

#osomatsu san #osomatsu matsuno #ichimatsu matsuno #todomatsu matsuno #reader insert #osomatsu matsuno x reader #ichimatsu matsuno x reader #todomatsu matsuno x reader #prompts #fluff #alcohol tw #swearing tw #profanity tw #Red ☆

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apawcalypsemeow · 6 years

Text

Tag Game: 15 Qs, 15 Mutuals

I was tagged by not just one but TWO amazing friends: @usethehorseluke and @luminoustunes . Thank you so much my lovelies <3

1. Are you named after anyone? Nope, my parents just liked the name. But my middle name is passed down to the first daughter of the first daughter of the first daughter and so on for about 4 generations.

2. When was the last time you cried? Earlier today... a lot... =/ I actually don’t cry that often, but today was an especially bad mental health day. And it didn’t help that I was trapped in the car for almost 12 hours. Too much time in my own head. Nobody wants to be in my head that long. Especially not me.

3. Do you have kids? Not yet. Maybe a few years down the road. Idk. We keep waffling back and forth.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Yes, but only with those who know me well enough to know that I am kidding. And rarely online because it is hard to get that tone across in text.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? Facial expressions. I am drawn to people with very expressive faces.

6. What’s your eye color? Light brown. Have you ever seen a tiger’s eye stone? That light golden/amber brown? Kind of like that.

7. Scary movie or happy endings? Depends on my mood.

8. Any special talents? Nope. I am cursed with being mediocre at a lot of things but not especially good at any of them.

9. Where were you born? Iowa, USA. About 15 miles from where I currently live. I’m kind of a homebody...

10. What are your hobbies? Playing unnecessarily complex board games, reading (mostly fics), playing video games (especially Kingdom Hearts and League of Legends right now), drawing (badly), lurking on tumblr, being awkward on discord.

11. Do you have any pets? 3 tuxedo cats (Regulus, Narcissa, Pangur Ban) and 1 axolotl (Kip)

12. How tall are you? 5ft 6in boringly average

13. What sports do you play/have you played? I played pretty much every parks and rec sport imaginable as a kid and I sucked at all of them. But I did stick with swimming up until college and took up taekwondo in grad school. Those are the only two that really mean anything to me still.

14. Favorite subject in school? Biology, art, and religion. I’m a weird mix.

15. Dream Job? In my current field: Foreign Animal Disease Diagnostician. I find epidemiology and public health fascinating. There is something cool about being on the front line against disease outbreak. And it seems like such a cushy job. Great pay, 9-5 hours (as long as there’s not an outbreak), government benefits (*drools*), loan forgiveness... but it will never happen. There are only a handful in the whole country and the people lucky enough to have that position hold onto it with a vice grip. And I don’t want to have to work my way up through the less fun government jobs.

In a completely different field: movie prop maker or set builder. Every time I watch any behind the scenes features I gaze longingly and daydream about how cool it would be to make that kind of stuff for a living. It would be like being a full time cosplayer. *sigh*

Tagging: (but only if you want to. and if you’ve already done it, send the link my way cause I’d still like to see your answers!) @hvldirs @reydarcy @monsterleadmehome @itsaspacefairytale @judelittlewanderer @cosmo-gonika @rubitrightintomyeyes @antbee17 @roxannepolice @lothbug @kylossren @seducedbykylo @prideandpreyjudice @fernandabarrera @reyloscum @mrsvioletwrites or anyone else who wants to jump in!

#about meow #mutuals #mutual memes #ask games #<3 #thanks for tagging!

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fraudulence-paradox · 4 years

Text

5/19/16

Today was really fucking difficult. I feel like I’m pretty committed my future. I’m studying as hard as I can, usually anyway, and I got a 3.6 last semester. What really agitates me is how difficult just today was. It started with class, 3 hours. 3 hours of reviewing 11th grade physics. It’s not so much that the content is hard, it’s that I’m so bored I can’t stand being there. I wouldn’t be either, if the teacher didn’t grade us on attendance. Class was so uneventful, in fact, that I have nothing more to say than I was there, and I drew some pictures. I went straight from class to Goodwill to work an 8 hour shift. Again, it was so uneventful that there’s almost nothing of note to say. Some other day I’ll write about the crazy customers, maybe even later tonight, but I wanted to write about how uneventful days like this seem to just drag on and on, and now that it’s midnight, I can’t remember a thing about them.

This disturbs me. Am I totally wasting my life? What’s the point if all I do is work so I can make money, so I can relax on the weekends because I’m stressed from work? I wish I could be one of those people like Kr---- who just does what they want. Kr---- is a rave organizer, based on what I gather from Facebook at least. In my mind she lives this life where she doesn’t stress about anything except drugs and relationships. I wish I could do that. The things I stress about seem so unimportant. So insignificant that it’s hard even to verbalize them. On a purely literal level, I stress about finishing college so I can have a good job, but what then? If I work in an office, or even worse, for the government, I’ll have to stop doing the things that make me happy. I’ll have to give up drugs, music, drawing, art. The things I’m good at (well, maybe not drugs, but the other things). It’s so absurd. I’m going to be living thousands of days just like today so I can live in a big house with a cool car and want for nothing. But whats the point then?

I see people who just give up everything to pursue what makes them happy and it inspires me. Not enough to give up everything and pursue my dreams, but enough to fantasize about how great it would be. I feel like the only reason I don’t drop everything and pursue becoming an illustrator or musician is what my family would think. I’ve said a thousand times, “my dream is to drop out of college and become a tattoo artist”. Logistically, it’s not a very sound idea. My parents would be pissed, at best because I spent 10k on college already, at worst because I’m not doing something that makes a lot of money like they want me to. But by the time I’ve made enough after college to pay them back, or to pursue something I love doing, I’ll be old. Not elderly, just old enough that I’ll either die alone because no one wants to be with a struggling artist, or be the old man who works a minimum wage job because he fucked up his entire life. I feel like everything I’m doing is following a predetermined path that I at one point thought I wanted, either because my parents pressured me into it, or I did, that leads to an extremely mediocre life. Does everyone have this much stress over such small issues?

People in LEDCs would absolutely kill to be in my position. I’m smart, I have access to money, and likely will have money. I’ll probably never starve. But all of this because I’d rather have a sure thing that will leave me empty than a risk that I’d be happy failing. What’s the point of even being alive if every day is this empty? If I live the rest of my life, experiencing days that I can completely write off as used by work, or used by school, what will I have experienced life for?

I want to make a mark. I think, in reality, my dream would be to illustrate a children's story. Or work as an animator on a cartoon. J--- is chasing his dream. He was brave, or stupid enough to risk getting a film degree. He could fail, but he just doesn’t care. He’s willing to take that risk, and from what I can tell, he’s happy. He’s living the life he wants to live. Am I? Do I really want to live in a cubicle for 40 hours a week? Does Cyber Security make me happy? It’s hard to say. It would be pretty fun to be a black-hat. Constantly living on the edge of the law, the way TV shows romanticize it. But I know that’s not how it really is. It would probably just involve a lot of sitting in a studio apartment paranoid about being busted. But here’s the thing, I’d like that. That seems like a life worth living. A life rich in experience, and excitement. That’s a life where you feel things. I wouldn’t have days where I wonder why I exist.

I think what I should do is commit more heavily into my art. I need to stop just fantasizing about making something and actually fucking make it. In 11th grade J--h and I talked about making a web-comic. That’s something I could do right now. I probably have the time. I have a few ideas sketched out. So why cant I force myself to do it?

I don’t know.

I think I will. I hope I will. Throwing myself, full-force into something like that is my only hope of survival. The people I idolize, Shel Silverstein, Maurice Sendak, Tim Burtain, all threw themselves into their art. That’s what I need to do. I need to stop sitting around and whining and actually do something with my life. I can’t just sit here and tap my complaints into my uninterested keyboard if I’m not going to actively work on them. I am going to make something great. I’m going to make something beautiful.

#college journal #journal #summer school #career #existential crisis

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