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pinkipeachiikeen · 1 year

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Galaxy Boy (Yamaguchi x Fem!Reader)

Hurt/comfort oneshot

Word count: 6230

Summary: Yamaguchi overhears Y/n talking about how much she hates her *‘freckles’ so Yamaguchi wants her to give him a makeover- but gets a whole lot more than he bargained for

childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, anxious yams, lots of fluff

Authors Note: I really went all out in this fic- a lot more than expected. I just relate to Yamaguchi a lot anxiety wise which took this fic from a cute little scenerio type thing to a whole 6000+ story and honestly? I’m not ashamed. I hope this can provide some comfort to others that suffer with anxiety as well

Also even though it says reader has freckles- reader is not of specific race and their was no skin tone set in mind and does not have to have freckles

Content warnings: VERY anxious Yams. and VERY brief mentions of self harm? (Yams mentions picking freckles off)

Likes, reblogs and comments are much apprecited! Tell me what you liked in the story! How it made you feel! Every comment and such is motivation for me to write more

“I look DISEASED!”

“Girl, you look fine.”

“Do you not see them! I’m hideous!

“Y/n, it’s not even that bad! Stop being so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic!” she claims as she slams her locker, causing a metallic ring through the deserted hallway, making both her and the boy peeking around the corner flinch. “Okay, Maybe I was being the slightest bit dramatic.” The girl admits, fidgeting with her fingers as she looks away sheepishly. God she’s so cute. Yamaguchi sighs. And so out of my league. The said object of the boy's affection turns her head around to almost catch his eye, but he dives behind the corner at lightning speed, holding his breath. “What are you looking at?” Her friend asks. “Nothing, I just thought I heard something.”

Yamaguchi can feel his heart almost beating out of his chest. What am I even doing here? He was just walking back from the bathroom and he heard his friend's voice and wanted to say hi, but didn’t wanna interrupt the conversation she was having. So naturally, he ends up hiding because talking to the other sex is scary, even if it’s just Y/N, someone he’s known for ages.

And someone who had a crush on them for almost as long.

Yamaguchi never meant to fall for her, it just kind of happened, like most cases of young love. Y/n is just so- How can Yamaguchi even explain it? She’s just so ethereal to him. Like a fairy, brightening up everyone's world, and pulling them out of their dark, dim shell. She speaks her mind and stands her ground, something that is so foriegn to him, theat he tends to forget she struggles with her own troubles from time to time as well. Yamaguchi finds himself feeling lucky he got to see her become much more outgoing and comfortable in her skin over the years, but almost gets whiplash from seeing her stumble on her words and hide behind her hair with him, then biting back with playful- but harsh- jabs with Tsukishima.

He remembers the day he met her almost like it was yesterday. Back then he had no idea that she’d change his life forever, he just liked her drawing of her pet dog. She’d always been an artist, and he remembers watching her trying out different mediums every week. She’d show up to school with her bag stuffed to the brim with different pencils, markers and even paints. She had to learn to carry all her supplies in a separate bag after one tube burst open all over the contents of her bag. After that she had bags on bags on bags filled with all the materials she planned to use throughout the day and they only got more complex over the years. Yamaguchi recalls the day she ran into their shared classroom and announced that your new canvas of choice would be skin, as she wanted to experiment with makeup. Soon after the bags of art supplies dwindled down to her makeup case and bag of moisturizer she used and tried to convince him and Tsuhishima to invest in, which had little avail. Much like the times where she’d ask him and Tsukishima to pose as models in her pieces, she would ask them to be the models or ‘test subjects' for her makeup looks. Well not exactly. She never asks Yamaguchi to model.

He has to pretend that doesn’t hurt each time.

Yamaguchi shakes his head, banishing those thoughts away from his mind, once again. He doesn’t need that right now. “I’m serious though!” Her voice draws him back to reality, and back to the conversation. How does she look diseased? He asks himself. He thinks she’s the most gorgeous being alive, but he’s just a bit biased.

“Anyway, I stay in the sun too long ONCE and get all these freaking blemishes on my face. Once!” She complains, pointing to her face. Wait- is she pointing at- Her friend shakes her head. “It’s not even that bad! Can’t you use a cream or something to get rid of them?” Y/n shakes her head. “I tried everything! At this point i’m considering picking them off.” What?! Her friend sighs. “You really are dumber than I thought. How would you get to practice makeup with big old gashes on your skin? And you know they would probably just come back.” her friend reasons. Y/n flutters her lips as she adjusts her bag. “Yeah, I know. I'm just tired of looking at them And using so much makeup to cover them up all the damn time. I’m almost out of concealer. Again.” Y/n said something else as her and her friend walked back to their classroom, but they were too far out of earshot at that point and Yamaguchi couldn’t seem to care. His heart was plagued with her words.

“Diseased.”

“Hideous.”

Yamaguchi felt sick. The only thing on her face that was even relatively new that she could be talking about was her freckles. Like the ones completely decorating his face. Y/N never had freckles growing up, but she did always complain about having sensitive skin and could’ve easily gotten them from the sun like she mentioned earlier. Her words keep running through his head with no end in sight. She’d rather harm herself than have freckles? Harm herself in stead of looking like me? He’s aware that she was probably being dramatic, but logic has no place in the mind of an anxious teen. If she thinks that way about herself and her few freckles, what does she think of me? Yamaguchi takes a deep breath in and adjusts his clothing that was wrinkled against the lockers. He knows what he has to do.

“What are you even talking about?” Tsukkisima asks, while adjusting his headphones. “Whatever, it’s nothing,” Yamaguchi sighs and fiddles with the pencil in his hand. “What’s the answer to number six?” Tsukishima grasps Yamaguchi’s twiddling pencil. “Stop that shit. What’s up?” Yamaguchi bites his lip and mutters something incomprehensible. “Huh? Speak up.” “Why doesn’t Y/n ask me to model for her!?” Yamaguchi shouts, bursting out of his seat and slamming his hands down on the table garnering stares from everyone else in the library. Tsukishima’s eyes widen at his friend's outburst as Yamaguchi’s flushed face only gets redder. “Sorry.” he apologizes, settling back down in his chair.. “You really wanna be Y/ns test subject?” Tsukishima side eyes Yamaguchi. “Well I- uh- I mean.” he bites his lip. “I don’t necessarily not want to…y’know.” Yamaguchi tries to avoid Tsukishima's annoyed gaze. “It would be nice to be thought of?” Yamaguchi states trying to convince Tsukishima that any normal friend would want to be a makeup ‘test subject’, regardless of any romantic feelings involved.

“Dude.”

“Yes?”

“You’re freaking whipped. It’s pathetic.”

Damn, so much for that attempt. “I’m not…” Yamaguchi meets Tsukishima's gaze, already calling his bluff. “Okay maybe a little bit. But is that so bad?” Yamaguchi signs and clunks his head to the table. “ This shit has been going on for way too long. I’m starting to believe it’s a fucking kink or something since no one would actively draw this awkward pining shit out.” Yamaguchi rolls his eyes. It’s not like he would understand. He likes to bat off any and all feelings with a 5 foot pole. “I didn’t consent to observe this over the past.. .” He numbers off his fingers. “How long has it been? Four years?” Yamaguchi mutters something into the table. “Were you talking to the table or?” Tsukishima questions. “I said,'' Yamaguchi picks his head up so his chin rests on his folded arms “five years.” A moment of silence passes. “Five fucking years? Do you not realize that means you spent a whole third of your life simping over this girl. A third! Can you imagine what you could’ve done with all that emotional turmoil instead?” “Do you not think I ask myself that question everyday?” Yamaguchi snaps, as Tsukishima's eyes widen. Yamaguchi exhales. Calm down, Tadashi. He’s just trying to help. Yamguchi rubs his eyes trying to cast away the exhaustion creepy in. Whether it be physical or emotional, he couldn’t tell. “Look, i’m trying to work on it, ok?”

“Work on what?”

Yamaguchi swears he jumped at least a foot in his seat and his heart stopped beating, every ounce of fatigue is zapped out of him with Y/n’s subtle and friendly shoulder touch. Yamaguchi didn’t necessarily hate her touch, not in the slightest, even though her hand recoiled after his full body reaction to it, assuming he did. He loves the subtle touches she gives to her friends, even if they make him panic internally- whether he and Tsukishima were talking about her before then or not.

“I’m sorry!” She apologized. “ I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“It’s fine!” He breathed, clutching his chest and heaving. “I’m fine!”

He was not fine but he quickly gathered his senses anyway to come up with a cover story because ‘Oh we were talking about my everlasting and undeniable love and attraction for you and how it’s crippling me inside! Nothing important! Just boy things.’ isn’t something Yamaguchi just felt fine confessing; that was the root of the problem after all.

“Tsukki here,” Yamaguchi starts, pointing a friendly thumb to the visibly annoyed Tsukishima “won’t stop teasing me about my English homework, and I was telling him to buzz off about it.” he gives a little chuckle and wonders if he’s visibly sweating. Y/n furrows her eyebrows, finding it hard to believe that he told anyone to buzz off at all, and even more hard to believe that he said that to Tsukishima, the salt king himself. She recalled a time where he offered to tutor her in the same subject he’s now struggling in when she fell behind after a few sick days, but she doesn’t press the matter and moves on with an awkward ‘Okaaaay?'' She turns to Tsukishima. “So Tsukishima!”- “No, I'm not gonna be your test subject. You could never pay me enough.” Tsukishima interrupts. “Damn.” she sighs. “Worth a shot!” Then Tsukishima does something so traitorous it may startle the very foundation of their extensive, and once unbreakable friendship.

“Ask Yamaguchi, he’d love to be your dress-up dolly for the night.”

Yamaguchi pales Tsukishima Kei what the hell are you doing?!?! He casts the traitor a wide eyed look and attemps to kick him in the shin, but misses and kicks the table leg. Y/n takes note of poor Yamaguchi’s immense panic (and now, pain) and quickly retorts in what she believes to be his defense. “Tsuki, don’t sign him up for things like that, it’s mean!”

Wait.

Does she not think I'm good enough?

Is it because of my freckles?

Say something, you freak!

So in a moment of immense self-pressure, he states, albeit a bit too loud (once again),

“I- I can do it!”

All three of their eyes widen in disbelief. Tsukishimas in astonishment and a bit of pride for Yamaguchi finally doing something, anything to advance his relationship and end the horrid pining, Yamaguchi in fear and surprise of his own actions and the repercussions of them and Y/n in something Yamaguchi can’t yet decipher.

“What?” Y/n asks. “Um- I- Uh..” Yamaguchi gathers himself, clears his throat and sits up straight, almost regretting when he meets Y/n’s eyes. “I can help you with your makeup- as a m-model of course.” He specifies. Y/n’s eyes widen and he mouth hangs agape. “You really don’t have to!” she blurts. Yamaguchi’s heart sinks. Of course. Why would she me to model of all people. Theres as reason she hasn’t asked you, idiot. “Not because I wouldn’t want you to!” she corrects after seeing him deflate in his seat. “I- I just don’t want you to feel pressured into doing something you don’t want to! Thats- uh- that’s why I haven’t asked you before because you are always so nice and helpful! And I- I didn’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you didn’t want to for my sake!” she clarifies with her hand fiddling with the bottom of her uniform. “Then why do you ask me all the time?” Tsukishima chimes in. Y/n’s head and personality does a 180 as she whips her head to face him. “Beacause, you are an asshole and it’s fun to annoy you, duh.” She states like it’s obvious before she turns back to Yamaguchi. “I would love to have you as my model, if you would have me of course.” Yamaguchi gulps and nods his head, trying to ignore what other meanings ‘if you would have me’ could have out of context. Damn, Tsukki was right. I am whipped. “Yay!” she says with a little hand clap. “I’m so excited! Text me when you can come over! I’m free most days!” Wait. Shit. Shit, shit shit! Yamaguchi, in all his newfound confidence (and pressure from his best friend) forgot that he most likely would be modeling at a house. Probably hers and most likely alone. What the hell did I get myself into?

Yamaguchi never thought a door would be so intimidating. Just knock! He tells himself. It’s not hard! He gulps. Welp. Here goes everything, I guess. He slowly raises his shaking fist to the door, just for it to swing open and make Yamaguchi jump in the air like a scared cat from a cartoon. “Hey Yams! Come on in!” She ushers, not noticing, or caring about his skittish reaction as she grabs his hand and takes him to her room.

Before he has time to really panic that ‘y/n is holding my hand, oh my freaking god! What if it’s gross? What if im sweaty? Whatifwhatifwhatif-’ He’s already in her room- which bring in a whole new set of worries. Holy shit I'm in a girls room. Holt shit. I’m in Y/N’s room. I”M IN Y/N’s ROOM. It’s not like he hasn’t been in her room before. As kids, the trio of Tsukishima, Y/n and Yamaguchi, would fight over the correct names of dinosaurs and who got to be the pterodactyl when playing with Tsukishima’s toy dinos between these four walls. The four walls, which now were painted and decorated with anime posters and pictures of her favorite idols along with some of her most treasured art works you made over the years instead of the many, many, many scribbles from half baked drawings in crayon and marker that she hid from her parents with the pictures she drew in class. He remembers you bursting into class one day a few years ago, excited to tell them that even though her parents knew of the childish scribbles you made on the wall in bouts of ‘artistic genius’ they offered to help you redecorate and paint over it .

It makes him realize how long it has been since you really spent time together.

Has it really been that long?

How far has he really drifted from you?

“Earth to Yamaguchi?” Yamaguchi snaps his head to Y/n’s voice. Shit. How long has she been talking? “There you are!” she giggles. “Oh, i’m sorry!” he apologizes as he rubs the back of his neck. “ I just got distracted by…yknow,” he gestures to the ‘new’ redecortaed room. “All of this. It’s kind of hard to recognize without the big lion drawing on that wall.” he points. “It was a superhero!” she corrects as he chuckles. “I can’t tell you which one it was supposed to be though.” she admits meekly. “Now come on!’ she encourages as she plops down on her rug. “Sit right here.” she points to the spot right in front of her. “O-Okay.” he gulps and obeys, trying not to relish in the fact that he’s barely a foot away from his crush, in a house that’s empty but the two of them. “So, I was wondering if you had any restrictions before we start?” Y/n aks as she begins to lay out her products. “Restrictions?” he asks. “Y’know, things you really don’t feel comfortable with. Like I won’t give you clown makeup or anything!” she promises. “But I do have a more extravagant out-of-this-world idea when it comes to you.” Out of this world? Yamguchi questions. “Oh! And I want it to be a surprise! Not because of anything bad I just really wanna see you reaction to your final look! I understand if you aren’t comfortable with that of course!” her voice starts to speed up, much like his when he feels like his is rambling on and on. “I am really grateful for you being here and letting me do this and i certainly don’t-” “Hey.” Yamaguchi places his hand on hers, out of pure instinct, but draws it back after both pairs of eyes drifted down to them. “I- I really don’t mind either way! To be honest!” Yamaguchi reveals with a large, friendly grin as Y/n’s shoulders relax and a soft smile reaches her face. “Okay, got it!” She says cheerfully as she pulls out a few more products from her makeup bag.

“And Yamaguchi?” She turns to face him.

“Hmm?”

Her eyes meet his as she softly speaks.

“Thank you for being here. It really means a lot to me.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I..really miss you, y’know?”

Yamaguchi swears he’s never seen something as ethereal as she is right now, her figure doused by the sunset peeking through the window on her left, a sheepish, shy smile complimenting her relaxed and welcoming body.

His lips move on their own as he opens them to say “Y/n, i-”

“Oh this is just your shade!” she announces. “Don’t you think?” she asks as she puts a dollop of what Yamaguchi believes to be foundation on his wrist and rubs it in. “It fits perfectly!” She exclaims. oh. “Yeah, it does.” He agrees, with a pitch of sadness in his voice that he hopes isn’t recognizable.

As Y/n starts working on his face Yamaguchi can’t help but to slip into those deprecating thoughts that follow him around like a shadow and take him by force into the darkness. Especially in times like this.

She doesn’t like you like that! It’s very obvious, even an idiot like you should be able to see that!

She doesn’t even want you here! She’s just being polite!

She thinks you are HIDEOUS, remember? DISEASED!

Yamaguchi does what he can to combat the demons in his head and the subtle stinging in his eyes.

“And just a few drops of concealer!” she states as she blends the creamy liquid under his eyes. “But-” Yamaguchi starts. Y/n lets out a slight “hmm?” as she looks through her makeup for a specific item. “I-I don’t think that would be enough.” He stammers as her eyes meet his figure once again. “To y’know,” he gulps. “cover all of this” he motions to his cheeks. “What do you mean?” she asks. He bites his lip as a woeful look crept over her face. “Yamaguchi..” she utters in a sorrowful tone, like she’s comforting a child. He can’t stand to look at her when she uses this voice, he already feels on the verge of tears

. “Is that why you wanted me to do your makeup? To cover your freckles?” He nods into his shoulders. “I-” she sighs. “I’m sorry, Yams. I can’t do that. It’s not right.” Yamaguchi quickly meets her eyes. “W-what? Why?” she shakes her head. “Your freckles are a part of you Yamaguchi. You’ve had them all your life and they are what makes you you. I’m not gonna hide them. I thought you told me you stopped worrying about your freckles in middle school.”

I did, for the most part. But it’s different when the love of your life basically calls you ugly.

He opens his mouth to say something, but bites his lip in shame.

She starts to put her makeup into her bag. “You can ask someone else, but I can’t do that. I just can’t.” Yamaguchi is being pulled every which way by his emotions .Confusion, anger, hurt, guilt. So much so he blurts out half baked words;

“Do you think I'm hideous and disgusting?”

Y/n whips her head around from the makeup she was placing away. “What?! No! Of course not! Where did you get that id-”

“I heard you!”

“I-in the hallway near the lockers. I wasn’t- I really wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, I just wanted to say hi!” he looks away, at the floor, at the ceiling- at the abundance of plushies on her bed, anywhere but the disappointed face he expects to see “But you were talking to your friend about your freckles and how you try so hard to cover them and get rid of them and how they are disgusting, and shitty!” He’s facing her now but he can only focus on how much it hurts.The words piling and piling out, red hot from years and years of painful silence- stabbing him, branding him with the fear and self hatred he already harbored since he was young. “And you- you only have a handful of them while- while i have a freaking constellation on my face! And I-” he wipes his face, now aware of the outgoing tears. “I can’t get rid of them! No matter how many times I try to hide them, no matter how many times I try to pick them off they- they always return! And I can’t change that! No matter how many times I try! And I do try, so so fucking hard So if you- the most beautiful person thinks that they are ugly in any way shape or form, then what does that make me?!” The tears are blurring his vision now, blinding him from the horrified look on Y/n’s face, eyes wide with her own tears starting to simmer- but Yamaguchi can’t find himself to care. “I- just want to be-” he chokes as he gasps for air. “I just want to be enough for you!” he wails. “That’s all I ever wanted to be! And- and you are just so perfect in every way! How can i?” he sniffles and hiccups, calming down where he can only see her tear stricken face.

“How can I ever be enough for you?”

And suddenly, it was never about his freckles.

No, it was about a boy, a boy locked away in the tower of his own head, beaten black and blue by his demons wanting love- wanting to just be enough for someone. For anyone.

For her

For himself.

And he just opened the floodgates

What have I done?

Yamaguchi barely recognizes her touch embracing him at first, as reality settles in fast and hard, grounding him and shattering him. Shattering all the resolve he’s built up for years and years leaving him defenseless in her arms. What have I done? Oh my god.

What have I done?

“I’m so- so sorry!” She cries into his arms, but he sits still paralyzed by fear, regret and everything he doesn’t know. About her. About him. About the two of them. What have I done? “Tadashi!” she calls “Tadashi, please.” He shakes his head, trying to self medicate and take himself out of his trance. “I’m so sorry.” he whispers into the air, avoiding her eyes. She shakes her head. “Tadashi please.” she sobs. “Look at me.” she begs as he lifts his head a little bit. She holds his chin lightly and looks into his eyes. “Tadashi please, listen to me.” His eyes finally meet hers and she can see him coming through. “Tadashi, you have always been enough. Always have been and always will be.” she sniffles. “God, I'm so fucking in love with you.”

What?

“I- I know, I know it’s crazy but I loved you since the day we met, Tadashi. I remember feeling so alone- and i was so freaking awkward- sitting under that tree, drawing. I was watching all the other kids play and I felt so alone, but then like a ray of sunshine, you walked over and told me you liked the picture I was drawing of my dog. I just was so enamored of the little boy with big eyes and the cutest freckles. I might not have known it then, but I've known for a little while that I'm head over heels for you. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” she reveals as she wipes her eyes on her shirt. Her eyes locked on his, he could barely register anything she said past “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“With me?”

She giggles as she lightly punches his arm. “Yes, you! Who else?” she confirms as he gulps. He didn’t mean to say that out loud. “But why? I’m not-” She makes a buzzer noise and shakes her head. “Yamaguchi, you are the nicest, most hardworking, most outgoing, amazing person I know. I’m lucky to have you in my life.” Yamaguchi feels his face heating up by the second. “You were the one always encouaging me to do my best with my art and supporting me even when I never though I could do it. You are the first one I want to come to when I have good or bad news and the first one I share my art pieces with. It’s you Yamaguchi.”Once again Yamaguchi feels the prickiling of tears in his eyes, but for a different reason this time. she chuckles and leans into an awkward laugh. “Wow, it feels so strange finally saying that out loud after all those years. I thought it was obvious after all the times I was caught staring at you in class, and all the times I suddenly became super clumsy around you. Hell, I was terrified of even being alone with you like this that’s why I never asked you to- Eh? No, please don’t cry!” she begs as Yamaguchi lets out a soft laugh. “I’m just so happy. I loved you for so long, Y/n.” he reveals as he wipes his eyes. Y/n gulps. “Shit.” she utters. “What?” he says alarmed. “This means Tsukishima’s right. We are two pining idiots.” she reveals as Yamaguchi throws back a laugh. “He gave you the talk too?” She groans. “Only like every other day! I’m surprised he never spilled to either of us. No wonder why he was always so annoyed.” she giggled. Y/n clears her throat, sits straight and pushes up her imaginary glasses. “I’ve watched you simp for way too long, any longer i’m going to demand compensation. 500 yen every time I see you staring at him, 1000 for every dreamy sigh and fluttering of the eyelashes and 1500 for every time you complain about ‘how it’s illegal to be that cute.” she mimic in her best Tsukishima voice. Yamaguchi cackles “No, no no,” he corrects between breaths of laughter. “It’s like..” he clears his throat as he preforms a slightly better Tsukishima impersonation. “All this endless pining has to be a kink or some shit- and I didn’t fucking consent.” Y/n clutches her sides in laughter as Yamaguchi makes sure he processes every second of this moment, one he’s deemed to replay time and time again. Just the two of them acting like fools again, just like they did before- but now without the fear of rejection and being vulnerable. Yamaguchi could never dream of something more beautiful.

She waves her hand in his face as he snaps back to reality. “Huh?” he questions as she laughs. “Yamaguchi, I swear you have the attention span of a goldfish.” she teases as she nudges him. “Yamaguchi.” he repeats slowly as she cocks her head. “Yes? That’s your name?” she states as he shakes his head. “That’s not what you called me earlier.” Her face tints red as a goofy grin takes over her face. “Okay, Tah-da-shi!” she gives his nose a little boop per syllable as the same red tint and goofy grin transfers to him. “What I was trying to ask before you went all space cadet on me was if Tsukishima actually said that.” she asks. “Hmm,” he hums as he taps his pointer finger on his chin. “Depends if the part about you staring at me and sighing dreamily was true.” he questions with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, suddenly confident. Her jaw drops as she stammers.

“Who- who allowed you to smirk like that?”

“Who allowed you to be all cute and flustered?”

“Stoppp!” she whines as she hides her face as he chuckles. “You know what!” she announces. “I did stare at you in class.” she admits as she pokes his chest. “You and all your cute freckles. I always tried counting them but always lost count or felt like a creep for staring. But-” she inches closer to his face. “I couldn’t help it, I've always been a sucker for pretty boys like you.” he gulps. “Y-you think i’m pretty?” he whispers as she hums in agreement. “Well you- you can count them now if- if you’d like.” he offers, hoping to all gods his voice didn’t crack like he thought it just did. “I’d love to.” she mumps and closes the distance and places a kiss on his cheek, and on one of his freckles.

“One.”

Another freckle

“Two.”

Another freckle

“Three.”

Another freckle

“Four-”

Yamaguchi couldn’t take it anymore and leaned in and kissed her on the lips. Time felt like it slowed for him as he savored every moment of her sweet, soft lips on his. It was short and sweet, but left them breathless all the same and left them smiling into each other as they caught their breath.

“Hey Tadashi?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you mean earlier? About the hallway?”

Shit. He forgot about that.

“Uh…” he bites his lip. “It doesn’t really matter, how about we just keep kissing, yeah?” he diverts as she stops him, placing her hand on his chest with a giggle. “Ah-ah-ah. None of that.” he pouts. “So.. what you are saying is you don’t wanna kiss me?” he retorts, biting his lip, holding in a giggle of his own. “I definitely did not say that, Yamaguchi.”

“Tadashi.” he corrects

“Tadashi.” she repeats, playfully rolling her eyes. “I’m serious. I wanna clear it all up right now so there's no more misunderstandings with us, okay?”

Yamaguchi sighs. “Fineeee. But please don’t make a big deal or laugh at me or anything, okay?” She frowns. “Why would I ever laugh at you?” He shrugs and takes a deep breath in.”I might have heard you in the hallway a few days ago talking about how much you hate your freckles and how you think they are shitty, and gross. You said you just use makeup to cover them so I thought you could do that for me? And when you said you wouldn’t it made me feel-” he stops as he sees her covering her mouth in what he only assumes could be an attempt to hold back her laughter. “You said you wouldn’t laugh!” he whines. “I'm not-” she starts, and attempts to act composed, but with little avail as laughter seeps through the cracks and she begins to howl in laughter as Yamaguchi crosses his arms. “I’m sorry- I really am!” she says between gasps of laughter. “But- but you think- you think these are freckles?” she questions, pointing to what Yamaguchi believes is a freckle on her face. He nods dumbly. “Yeah…what else would they be?” “Acne!” she exclaims. “Blackheads, to be exact! Dirt, grease, grime and sweat that crept into my pores and clogged them!”

“What.”

Y/n throws her head back in laughter. “So you were so worried over nothing! This,” she takes a deep breath in to regain composure. “This is why we don’t eavesdrop.” “I wasn’t trying to! I- I just wanted to say hi! I-It’s really not my fault you talk so loud!’ He pouts as he crosses his arms and looks away. “Tadashi, you are so cute. Worrying over what lil ole’ me thinks.” she pinches his cheeks. “I’m not-” he nudges her grabby hand off of him with his shoulder and sits up straight, trying to maintain the smidge of dignity he has left. “I’m not cute, first of all. Second, your ‘lil ole opinions’ mean a lot to me, if you didn’t get that earlier.” he reveals, blushing. “I wasn’t lying when I said that my freckles stopped bothering me in middle school. It's not easy to just forget and get over something I struggled with all my life.” he references to earlier. Hearing you say- or at least thinking I heard you say how much you hate them really hurt me, as much as I hate to admit. I know it’s pathetic-”

“It’s not.” she interrupts.

“It’s really not. We all have our insecurities, we all have our demons, we all have our limits. One thing that those things all have in common is the tendency people have to ignore them or pretend they don't exist.” She explains. “It’s so much easier to do then accept them, because when you finally do,” she looks into his eyes. “You learn to overcome them. It may take ages, and you may never fully get over them. But it’s a sure lot more than what most people are able to do. And you,” she pokes his chest. “Are so much stronger than you believe. Admitting your insecurities, looking them in the eye and accepting that although they may bother you some now, they don’t have half as much of a hold on you than before. It��s amazing, Tadashi. You are amazing.”

In that moment he knew that he may never feel enough for anyone or anything 24/7 and may feel the ups and downs that life will inevitably bring- but he has her and she’ll be around to remind him that he is, and that is all he needs.

“Now that that’s settled, time to finish your look!” she cheers as she claps her hands.

“Wait, what?” he questions. “I thought you didn’t wanna do my makeup anymore after I told you I wanted my freckles covered?” she shakes her head. “Nope.” she says, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “I think it’s more important to do it now than ever!” she exclaims with a smile engulfing her face. How was Yamaguchi supposed to say no to that?

“O-okay!”

Thump

Tsukishima couldn’t sleep. If you’d ask him why, he’d probably say it’s because a headache (even though the he’s bouncing a volleyball against his wall causing loud thumps guaranteed to make any headache immensely worse.) and under no circumstance him worrying for his best friend who, earlier acted like he had a date with death, instead of a date with his crush.

‘it’s not a date! Just two people hanging out and doing makeup! Just friendly activities!” Yaaguchi whined as he closed his locker. Tsukishima rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don’t give a fuck. But if you two don’tt walk into class together holding hands i’m having Shrimpy serve a spike on your fat, dumb head.” he promises and walks away as he hears Yamaguchi complain about not having a fat head and Hinata (who came out of nowhere- as per usual) get all mad about being called Shrimpy even though he was never directly mentioned.

Hmm. Maybe Tsukishima does have a headache. A Yamaguchi sized one.

THWACK

The volleyball he was tossing bounced back past his hands- and onto his face. God damn it. He tosses the ball off of his bed and grabs his phone, in need of a mindless distraction that won’t bruise his face and break his glasses.

Oh? A mention from Yamaguchi? Isn’t he supposed to be with Y/n right now?

He clicks on it and it's the absolute last thing he’d ever expect to see.

A picture of Yamaguchi, shyly looing into the camera with the most bashful smile he’s ever seen on the boy, and a mirage of of pinks, blues and purples decorating his face, with spreckels of silver littering his face with lines connecting them, almost mirroring his freckles-no;

They were stars.

A galaxy

A Constellation.

But the most surprising feat in the photo was Y/n with he arms around his neck, looking into his eyes with nothing but clear admiration and content, with sloppy dots- freckles- across her face that she most likely had Yamaguchi do for her with makeup, ones that almost matched his everyday look. Below the picture was a caption reading;

My Galaxy Boy

With sparkles following and preceding the words. He scoffs and shakes his head playfully. That's so y/n. The he scrolls down to see where Yamaguchi tagged him;

@Tskeishima Is my fat head safe?

He smirks as he types;

@sweetyamagashi For now.

Took yall long enough.

#yamaguchi x reader #haikyuu yamaguchi #Haikyuu x reader #yamaguchi x you

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recurring-polynya · 3 years

Note

Do I mind if I ask how you approach writing longer fic? I've always struggled to write anything more than maybe two chapters long and I'm curious if you have a particular method to how you approach such stories.

Thank you so much for this ask! I absolutely love it when people ask me for writing advice because it makes me feel like a Smart Person Who Knows Things.

Before we start, here is one grain of salt to take all of this with: I have a naturally long-form brain. It is very hard for me to write something less than 1k. Short fiction is great, and there is nothing wrong with sticking to short things if that's what your brain likes to do.

So. You have decided to write a story. This is going to focus on "stories". Some people write fic that's more freeform or whatever, I am not going to cover that. What I mean by a story is this:

It starts

Some stuff happens

It ends

It is highly probable that your story contains a change of state, which could be that a villain is defeated, or a goal is reached, but it could also be that character falls in love with another, or someone learns to like broccoli.

I like to start out by completing the sentence, "This is a story where _______". This is basically like coming up with a summary for an ao3 post, except that it doesn't need to be catchy. Lots of different kinds of things could go in that blank! It could literally be what happens: This is a story where Ichigo goes back in time and punches young Aizen in the nose. It could be about what you want to explore: This is a story where Hitsugaya gets a better understanding of his zanpakutou. It could be about the vibe you want to achieve: This is an AU where everyone is in a punk rock band and has cool hair and outfits. The idea of this is to clearly define what you, the author, is interested in writing. Make sure it feels right! Maybe you pick the first one, but when you say it out loud, you say, "You know, I really just want Ichigo to go back in time so he can horse around with young Renji and Rukia and punching Aizen in the nose is just an excuse for that." That may sound dumb, but it's fine, actually! Most people don't read stories strictly for the plot, they read stories for the implications of those plots! Will my favorite two characters kiss? Will there be funny interactions between these two groups of characters? Will there be sick fights? Stories are excuses to have scenes. Sometimes, you will have a story where the interesting sequence of events is the draw, but the point is to know what you're about.

Once you feel happy with your "mission statement", you need to decide the bounds of your story: where it starts and where it ends. It may be easier to start with the end. In some cases, it may be obvious from your mission statement: everyone gets home, a villain is defeated, Kenpachi realizes the meaning of friendship. On the other hand, let's look at that punk rock AU. You've picked a vibe, but you don't really have a natural story arc. It has to have a destination, though, otherwise, it's not really a story, it's a recipe for 3 chapters of an abandoned fanfic. So brainstorm a little: Maybe they get a record deal? Maybe they win a Battle of the Bands? Maybe Byakuya accepts that the band is actually good and tells Rukia he is proud of her. Do not settle for a plot just because it works. Pick something that makes you excited! You're the one who is gonna have to write it!

I said that we needed to pick a beginning point, too, but I'm actually going to skip that for now. The next thing I do is think of all the Big Scenes I want to write, the ones you are hype to write, the ones that pop in your head as you think about the premise. Make a bullet list. They don't need to be in order. The descriptions don't need to be super detailed, but write down anything about it that is important to you. If there's a mood or a snippet of dialogue or a joke you want to make, go ahead and jot that down so you don't forget it later. What you're doing now is putting broad blotches of color on a canvas, filling in space and leaving the detail for later.

Once you are pretty happy with what you have down, try to arrange it in chronological order. Put your end at the end (if it wasn't one of your big scenes, add it now). The next task is figuring out how to traverse your scenes. You've already picked out where you want to spend the majority of your energy. The rest, I regret to tell you, is your slog writing. Now, it often happens that you will find joy in some of these scenes and your best writing may occur there, but that's serendipity. These are the scenes that you are gonna have to make yourself sit down and write, so you honestly want to limit them to just the ones you need.

So how do we do this? Look at the first thing on the list. Can you start there? If so, congrats, that's your beginning. If you can't, what needs to happen to get to there? Where can you start so that you can get to your first fun scene as soon as possible? There. That’s it. You’ve picked your beginning, good job! Now, go through the rest of your list, and add in things that must happen, even if you don’t particularly look forward to writing them. The characters need to travel from geographic point A to point B. Shuuhei needs to say something that Izuru hears and misinterprets. The Central 46 makes a new law. If you have a good idea of how these things happen, go ahead and write them down, but it’s okay if you don’t know yet. Fill in all the blanks so that if you think of each bullet list as a scene, you could read it as a story, start to end. Once you get writing, you might add more scenes, or move things around or whatever, but you should have a thing that functions as a story.

If you struggle with this, an alternative is a story with a very strong structure that is going to guide you though what you have to write.Here are two examples from my own stories Hold On, Hold On (which is only one chapter, but the principle is the same) is structured around the 5 stages of grief. Not Broken, Just Bent takes place over roughly a week, and I just decided what happened every day of the week. See You on the Other Side takes place in the middle of a bunch of canon events, which worked at mile markers.

Congratulations. You’ve just made a rough outline!

Special note for avoiding burnout!: I am a slogger. I will drag myself through the broken glass of an interminable plot to get to a single thirsty scene. That's why, at this stage, I try to look at the ratio of what I want to write to what I must write. It's gonna vary for everyone, but this is a hobby, and if looking at this proto-outline makes you feel deeply tired, maybe this isn't a good story to be devoting your time to! Can you carve it down? Can you chuck two scenes you really want to write and get rid of 80% of the slog? Or maybe you can't! In that case, just write that thirsty scene as a standalone drabble! Or just go work on something else! Maybe in the future, this one will come back to you and you’ll have a fresh idea or a renewed enthusiasm for it.

Another thing I sometimes like to do at this point is to write out some notes about my characters and their motivations and moods. Character A is homesick. Character B is so determined to defeat the enemy that they are having a hard time being sympathetic to Character A. Character C cares for both A and B and is trying to support them both. This is sort of background info that you want to keep in your head as you are writing. Depending on the type of story you are writing, this might actually be the main plot, or it might be happening subtly, but adding to the emotional impact of the story. It’s very easy for me to write these sorts of emotional arcs, but if you struggle with that, you may wish to go ahead and made a more detailed outline for that, too.

Now, it’s time to start writing! I am great at beginnings-- it is very often the case for me that the opening scene was one of my Big Tentpole Scenes. (Before you hate me too much, I make up for this by being double horrible at endings; just let me have this) Usually, I will start at the beginning and write linearly for as long as I can until I get stuck. Then, I will look forward on my outline and do the next chronological scene that I feel like writing. In general, if I sit down to write and there is something I have an urge to write, that trumps everything else. Inspiration is a precious commodity, and you should embrace it when it hits! You can slog any day. I will occasionally hold off writing a scene that I really want to, because I am saving it, like a prize for myself for getting that far. This is a very personal process of figuring out what motivates your brain and then giving your brain what it needs to be its most productive.

Eventually, you will run out of things you are excited to write, but the good news is, you’ve got a bunch of story now! Odds are that what’s left is going to be a lot of those connective tissue scenes, and you’re just going to have to do them, except that now, because you’re connecting two concrete points instead of two abstract points, it will be a lot easier. You can continue running jokes you’ve started. Maybe you invented a cafe in an earlier scene where your characters hang out and you can have them return there. Try to think of ways to make these scenes more fun, both for yourself to write and for your reader to read.

Around this time, I like to start refining that rough strokes outline into what I will call an “as-built” outline. (This is an engineering term where you update your plans or models for something to reflect any changes that had to be made along the way). This is a great activity to do at times when you feel like you have writers block. I write down every scene I have written as a 2-3 word blurb, in order. I break the scenes into what I think makes logical chapters, and I will do a word count on those prospective chapters and write it down. As you do this, you will realize that maybe you can move a scene from here to there, which will make it 1000% easier to write. Things may be happening too much, or you’ve got the characters eating three times in the same chapter. If you have subplots and dangling threads, this is where you make sure they get closure. I know this sounds very headache-y, but you are so far along in the story at this point that it’s really not-- it’s a way to look at the problems you have left. Use some sort of formatting (I like to bold things I haven’t done and sometimes I put them in red) and it gives you a very visual to-do list.

You specifically mentioned multi-chapter fanfics and I admit that I don’t tend to think in chapters, I tend to think of the story as a whole and just break it up where it feels natural. The as-built outlining I described is very helpful in making sure that my chapters feel balanced. They don’t necessarily need to be the same length, but I like them to have the same amount of stuff in them. One chapter may basically contain one long scene, and other may contain many short ones. I don’t tend to, but you can certainly have a fanfic that varies between short and long chapters, that can actually be an interesting effect. But like I said, I always like to know what I am doing, and so having it mapped out, you can say “welp, this is what I’ve done, how do I feel about that?”

Polynya, you may be saying at this point, do you write the whole fanfic before you post any of it? and I regret to inform you, the answer is yes. A lot of people write as they go, and I have made one attempt at this and I didn’t like it. I don’t like locking myself in, I just need to be able write out of order and go back and change things. Here is the story of a little in love: someone gave me an AU prompt and I got mildly obsessed with it, and wrote 5 snapshots drabbles in that universe, ending with a slight cliffhanger ending. I probably should have stopped there, but I decided to keep going. I wrote out an outline of 5 acts where the first act was detailed to the degree of each chapter being specified. The chapters here were much smaller than I usually make chapters: 1-2k. I wrote act i and ii and it was actually great, and then I hit act iii which required a lot of set up for misunderstandings and a mini romance arc. I couldn’t wing it, but nor could I figure it all out with outlining. I write dialogue in almost sort of an improv “Yes, and...?” style, so until I do it, I don’t know what’s going to happen. So, what I did was treat the second half of act iii as a complete story in the process I describe above, wrote the entire rest of it, and then posted it. One might notice that the chapter lengths grew to 3-5k each. I have two more acts to go, and I haven’t decided how I am going to do them yet, but I suspect I will treat each of them as their own mini-stories.

(I will admit that in Heart is a Muscle, I tend toward chapters that are about 10k long, and this is honestly too long, someone should smack me. If you like punchy chapters, 1-2k is good. I think 3-6k is probably an ideal chapter length. Is this how long the chapters are in my latest fanfic? Absolutely not.)

Okay, so there’s one more step, which is quality control. I am habitual re-reader-- I read my fanfics-in-progress over and over and over while I am working on them. I understand that not everyone does this, but I am usually the primary audience for my own writing, and this is the actual fun part for me. Nevertheless, you should re-read your work at least once, to make sure it hangs together.

This is purely optional, but I recommend it: get a writing friend (if you don’t like re-reading your work, I recommend this even more strongly). If you can get a full-service beta reader, that’s great, but if you can’t find someone, or if receiving that level of critique stresses you out, it’s perfectly valid to just find a friend who will read your stuff and a) shower you with compliments, b) reassure you about parts you aren’t sure about (or suggest ways to help) and c) point out any huge problems you missed. When I am writing a long fanfic, it is a huge motivational factor for me to be able to send my beta chapters as I finish them. If you are already an established writer, and you have people who consistently comment on your fic, they might be overjoyed to get a sneak peak at your work.

And that’s it! That’s the way I do it, anyway! Some people are able to sit down and write a very detailed outline and the write it start-to-finish. Good for them, I say! I have tried this and it doesn’t work great for me. I will admit that some of my fics (especially my early ones) I just sat down and banged out whole-cloth like an insane person and they are generally better than the ones I actually plan out, but that’s not a reproducible process.

As one final mechanical note, I usually write in Google Docs, which I can access on multiple devices (I used to write a lot on my phone), has convenient sharing functionality, and I use the ao3 html formatting script add-in. I generally have two documents for a single story-- one is the outline, and any other notes I want to have handy. I’ll usually put a trashcan space at the bottom for scenes that got cut but I don’t want to lose. The other is the fanfic itself.

I hope this is helpful! Please feel free to follow up with other questions and good luck with your writing!

#writing advice #longform writing

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jjksblackgf · 3 years

Text

BTS Reaction - You’re sick/injured and he’s jealous that another member takes care of you

kim seokjin

He rushed over to the hospital as soon as your friend called to give him the news. He didn’t know any details and didn’t want to wait to receive them, he just grabbed his stuff and went to your encounter.

As he ran through the halls of the hospital, he didn’t mind when people recognized him. Trying to find the room the receptionist gave to him, all he wanted to do was to see you with his own eyes.

“How much pain, on a scale of 1 to 10?” he asked you once he was in your room, with very clear pain in his voice and furrowed brows.

“Zero” you answered “My shoulder is back where it should, so I don’t feel any pain. And the doctor gave me painkillers if I feel like I need it”

He wanted to ask more questions, but was interrupted by Taehyung, as he walked in with chips and candy he probably bought at a vending machine.

“Hey hyung” Tae spoke smiling and placed the treats on your lap. “Here you go, Y/N, go wild” he added

“Thanks, Tae, that was very sweet” you thanked Taehyung with a smile, making Seokjin kinda jealous. He wanted to be the one treating you nicely right now.

“Shouldn’t you eat something more nutritious than this?” Jin asked

“But hospital food sucks, hyung, she needs to have a little fun to heal faster” Taehyung said before you could, earning a giggle from you

“But you’re not the doctor, are you?” Jin asked with a cold voice, and he regretted the minute the words slipped his mouth. “I’m sorry, Taehyung, that was unnecessary” continued.

“Tae, can you give us a moment, please?” You asked and he left the room. Jin proceeded to apologize and explain his behavior.

min yoongi

95% of the time he loves his job, even when he’s stuck at work, he knows all the hard work would pay off soon.

But now he has you, someone he could go home to. And now, being stuck at work was not as okay as it was before. Now every time he’s stuck at work he has an internal conflict.

Today was especially hard because you had a mild fever for most of the day and other flu symptoms. But he managed to get away from work to be with you, getting home not much later with some hot soup he knew you liked.

He didn’t like the sight when he got home, tho. Jimin was watching a movie with you. He doesn’t really mind you getting closer because he trusts you and trusts all the other members around you.

What bothered him were the bowl of soup in your hands and a few packs of medicine recently bought. Jimin got to take care of you before he could, and that broke his heart a little. Not saying anything, he leaves the thing he bought for you at the dinner table and goes to take a shower.

“I’ll get going” Jimin said before you got to and you said your goodbyes.

After that you went to your bedroom and sat on the bed, waiting for Yoongi to leave the bathroom.

“Hey, baby” you said with a sweet voice. Yoongi didn’t respond, he just sat on the bed by your side

“I’ll apologise to Jimin tomorrow” he murmured to you

“Good” you said and hugged him sideways while he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for disrespecting you today, I don’t know why I did that-” he started to ramble but you kissed him to make him stop

“Apology accepted” you smiled “Let’s go to the living room, I want to cuddle with you while watching movies.”

jung hoseok

He didn’t have the experience, but he could imagine how breaking a leg would suck. Good thing he was able to take a few personal days to the company, so he got to take care of you the first week.

When you were better and more adjusted to your new routine, he decided to catch up at work. He would rather take care of you, but you reassured him you were okay, and you knew he was more needed at work than at home.

You would still be able to see him everyday. Perks of living together, baby.

But you were bored at home alone and missing him a little, but you couldn’t admit that to him, he would just simply stop working to be with you. So you asked Seokjin to hang out with you, he had finished recording early and was free for the day.

And you just had a very fun end of afternoon with Jin. He helped you a lot, he even cooked your dinner. It was instant ramen since you didn’t have much ingredients, but still. He even scratched your feet with an old pencil. And that’s when your boyfriend gets home, he would sure want to join the fun

“Hi, honey” you said with a huge grin “Oh my God, Jin, this tickles too much” You said laughing loud.

“Hi, jagiya. Good night, hyung” Hoseok said, very polite but with a very cold tone. His angry face was about to show itself and you and Seokjin knew it.

“Is that how you greet your hyung?” Jin started with a surprised expression

“What? I said goodnight!” Hoseok responds

“I was here taking care of your girlfriend, don’t you think I deserve at least a thank you?”

“Don’t you think that I wanted to be the one to take care of her?”

“You guys, stop. This is not heading towards a productive conversation” you meddled

“Listen to your girlfriend” Jin says as he gets up to leave “We’ll talk next time we see each other”

You got to talk to Hoseok and convinced him to call Seokjin and clear things out, you two knew everything was going to be okay in the end.

kim namjoon

You went to spend his day off with him at the dorms, he said he didn’t mind your cold and you were really clingy these days.

You two were taking a nap together and Namjoon wakes up to find that you're not with him at the bed. He doesn't think much of it until he hears your laughter and goes to check in on you and know where you’re at, finding you seated with Yoongi while he plays the piano.

‘Oh yeah? Bet’ he thinks. He knows it’s just his passive aggressiveness showing its colors, but he can’t help it. He feels like it’s his job to take care of you. ‘This is not a good color on you, Namjoon’

“Hey baby, are you having fun with Yoongi hyung?” he asks as he puts his elbows at the top of the piano.

“Oh yeah, we’re just playing random songs” you answered

“Have you taken your meds yet?”

“No, not yet, but I’m not-”

“I’ll go get them” he responded before you could finish the sentence and went running to the meds cabinet and came back in under a minute. “Here” he said, trying to catch his breath.

“I’ll take them later, baby, I don’t think I need them right now” you said with an apologetic tone.

“Sure, okay! What do you want to eat, we can order something, or I can talk to Jin hyung and see if-”

“Oh, it’s okay, we already ate” you said referring to you and Yoongi

“Oh…” He just stood there kinda staring at you both

“Are you jealous or something?” Yoongi asks, seeing Namjoon’s reaction

“Yeah” he responded with a barely audible tone. You got up from your seat and hugged him tight, leaving pecks on his face until he smiled.

“Ew” Yoongi said as he got up from the piano and went away.

park jimin

At the practice room, you and Jungkook were sitting on the couch. He had a bunch of markers, the cast of your broken arm was a blank canvas to him. He just went wild with his creativity and drew different things, making it colorful.

Jimin was not a fan of the sight, even though your attention was fully on him, he was bothered by Jungkook getting all the space on the cast. You were his girlfriend, shouldn’t he be the one to draw a lot on it?

He didn’t understand why he was so jealous, neither understood why he wanted to practice the new choreography in front of you and describe all the times he was better than JK or when he got the moves quicker. He did it anyway.

Jungkook just laughed a little and sighed, shaking his head, deciding to leave you alone with Jimin “I'll come back to work on it when hyung is not jealous anymore, just text me when” you nodded.

You patted the sofa and he sat on your side. “So…” you started, trying to get him to talk, but he didn’t know what to say. He was part embarrassed, part angry at himself. “You don’t trust me and the members together?” you asked after a moment, trying to see his point of view

“I do, I really do” he started saying “I don't know what got to me… I'm sorry, jagiya” he went for a hug and you hugged him back as tight as you could.

“What can we do to make you feel more comfortable, then?” you asked him

“I don't know” he responded honestly

“What made you feel jealous in the first place?”

And after that an idea popped in his head. He would feel very comfortable if Jungkook wrote his name in the cast with very bold letters.

kim taehyung

Boy was so eager to get home and take care of you. He knew it was just a cold, but he just hated knowing you were in any kind of pain or discomfort.

He bought painkillers, a hot pack, coughing medicine, soup, and the whole shabang. All the thoughts running through his mind were how quick he could put you on the bed and place lots of covers on you.

But the sound of your laughter as he opened the door was as relieving as worrying. Who was here? He calmed down as he thought that maybe it was your best friend. But he was wrong.

As soon as he saw Hoseok giving you a glass of water, the “this is fine” meme was at the front of his mind.

“Hi honey,” you said as soon as you laid your eyes on him “what you got there?” you asked eyeing the shopping bags.

“I bought these things for you,” he said in a low tone “I even got you soup, but I can see you’ve already been taken care of” his smile was there but you noticed that it was sarcastic with a hint of pain.

Hoseok noticed too, “Get well soon, Y/N” he said as he stood up “I’ll see you later” he gave Tae a quick pat on the back and closed the door behind him.

You watched Taehuyng in silence as he put the bags on the coffee table in front of you. “Let’s share the soup” you spoke as he sat down by your side

“You’re the one who needs this more, my love” he said softly “Do you need anything else? I got pain meds, coughing meds…” he continued speaking, but all you wanted to do was to hug him, and so you did

“You know I love you, right?” you spoke to his ear

He smiled faintly as he hugged you back “I know you do”

jeon jungkook

You had your hand immobilized after a torsion while working out, it was nothing serious but the doctors wanted to make sure the healing would go smoothly and faster.

You thought you could use only one hand, but you were wrong. You still wanted to bake cookies for your boyfriend so it could be ready when he finished with his video game.

He was doing a lot of things for you and you wanted to thank him, and also wanted to feel useful again. But it wasn’t going as you liked so you asked for Namjoon to help.

“Really? Me?” he was surprised by your request, he says he’s not very kitchen help material.

“All you need to do is to hold things still so I can mix it up” you answered, and so the baking started.

Jungkook decided he was done with the games and wanted to hang out with you more, finding you in the kitchen stirring chocolate chips in a bowl with what looked like cookies from afar.

“Hey, what are you doing over here?” he asks

“I wanted to bake some cookies for you, I know you like them” you said after he pecked your lips.

“Oh, jagiya, you didn’t have to” he went to help but Namjoon was standing still in his helping position “It’s okay hyung, I’m the boyfriend, I’m going to be the help from now on” he said to Namjoon in a playful tone but you understood the subtext, and so did Namjoon

“No need to get jealous, Kook”

“I’m not jealous, I’m just saying-”

“Hey, hey” you interrupted them “You two can stop the chatting and put the cookies on the baking sheet, since I can’t at the moment”

After they did as you asked, Jungkook placed the trays in the heated oven and started cleaning in silence, Namjoon helped him, keeping the awkward silence in the room. You just sat back and watched the tension build.

“I’ll see you guys later” Namjoon announced as he finished placing the bowls in the cabinets.

“Next time promise me you will interrupt me so I can help you” Jungkook said after taking the cookies out of the oven.

“Fine” you rolled your eyes “But you promise to go apologize to Namjoon”

“Promise” and with that you two interlaced your pinkies.

#bts #bangtan #bts ambw #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts reactions #kpop ambw #black kpop fans #black kpop stans #black reader #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #sheesh #this girl is hella thicc

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Seven

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: so this chapter doesn't exactly have a hay bale maze but it has something even better :)

***

Being a legal consultant is surprisingly easy.

Years of studying business law in order to take down big corporations in the courtroom is now being used to help a big corporation— Nesta wants to be disgusted at the state of her morals. Fortunately for her, all the issues that have come across her desk so far are minor negotiation matters. The way Night Court Inc. is run is virtually perfect, and she almost hopes a blatant lawsuit drops into her lap just so she can give Rhysand and his sycophantic workers hell.

Though Nesta knows better than to dream big. This is essentially busy work that Night Court’s actual lawyers don't have time to do, but she's grateful for it either way. She's grateful for the man who got her this job even more.

When her car finally gets back from the auto shop one sunny November morning, Cassian suggests they go out to celebrate.

“Celebrate what?” Nesta says. “Not having to rely on you for rides anymore?”

“Exactly that.” Cassian grins and leans his elbow against the kitchen counter. “There’s a fall festival an hour north of here that pops up every year. There's good food and hot cider. Let’s go.” He nudges her excitedly.

Nesta narrows her eyes at him. “You’ve been planning this,” she accuses.

“I go every year,” he shrugs. “Come on, we have the whole day ahead of us.”

He makes pleading puppy eyes that have absolutely no effect on Nesta, but she doesn't want to hurt his ego by letting him know that.

There is nothing appealing to her about going out into the cold and doing autumn-related activities, so she surprises herself and Cassian both when she agrees to go. He rewards her with a wide smile and tells her to get ready.

Nesta feels oddly giddy afterward. She can't recognize the feeling, so she tamps down on it while she gets dressed and braids her hair.

Outside, her burgeoning smile drops when she sees Cassian getting the truck started. “I thought the point of this was that we could use my car now.” She gestures to her beat up blue sedan, a sad little thing parked next to Cassian’s fancy truck.

“Nes, if I thought your car could go anywhere near a mountain road without falling to pieces, I would get in it without hesitation.”

It's as close to apologetic sympathy as she’ll get from him, so she only grumbles a little before climbing into the passenger seat she's gotten all too familiar with.

The door slams as Cassian gets in the driver’s seat, and something on the dashboard catches Nesta’s attention. Reaching out, she picks up one of her coloring books and her zipper bag full of markers and pencils.

She glances at Cassian. “Is this for me?”

He looks up from where he’s buckling his seatbelt. “Oh, I just picked it up on my way out. Cell signal gets spotty the closer we get to the mountains, so you might get bored.”

Nesta looks down at the coloring book she's clutching, surprised.

“Did you want anything else before we leave?” Cassian says. “I can run inside and pick up some books.”

“No— no, this is good,” she says softly. She flips the page open to a fresh landscape scene, black on white lines staring back at her. “Thank you.”

She unzips her pencil bag with a new reverence, barely noticing as they pull out of the driveway and head for the highway leading out of town.

Nesta is intent on her coloring the entire ride, falling far too easily into that little bubble of her own mind where she forgets that other things and people exist. Cassian, unlike most people, doesn't seem to mind this. He's content with driving in the quiet, the only sound the soft crackle of the radio and the scratch of Nesta’s pencils.

She’s trying to get the blue shades of the lake just right when she feels the truck start to slow, and she looks up to see that they're in some kind of parking lot. Ahead, a market-carnival setup sits at the base of the mountains, and it sprawls as far as her eyes can see. “We’re here already?”

“Yeah.” Cassian glances at her hesitantly. “Is it lame?” He gestures to the autumn-themed affair, as if he’ll turn around and drive them right back home if it isn't to Nesta’s liking.

Nesta can’t pay the festival any attention yet. “I’m not done with this picture yet,” she says simply. She holds it up for Cassian to see, even though he probably can't tell that the mostly-completed picture is still missing a couple of details.

He just says, “We’ll wait till you're finished, then.”

She brightens with relief, and takes her time adjusting the colors of the landscape to her liking. As soon as she's satisfied with what she has, though, she throws her pencils and book down like they're on fire and grabs her coat. “Let's go,” she demands.

If Cassian is surprised at her sudden change of pace, he hides it well and follows Nesta onto the fairground. “Slow down,” he calls for her.

Perhaps the fall season isn't terrible, Nesta thinks as they buy warm candied apples. The air smells nice and the weather is brisk and Cassian stands so close to her that she never quite gets cold.

It feels almost like a date.

Nesta glances at Cassian from the corner of her eye as she chews on her apple. Wind ruffles his hair and his brown cheeks are flushed red, but he looks content. It's too bad they're just friends, because this would have been a nice date.

She has to stop her train of thought before she gets distracted by how Cassian’s hand isn't holding anything, and how her hand isn't holding anything, and maybe their hands should—

She makes a fist with her free hand and shoves it into her coat pocket. This is why she doesn't usually have friends, she remembers— because she can never stop hungering for more.

Nesta and Cassian’s not-date is spent with Cassian throwing his money at every other thing he sees on sale, and Nesta biting her tongue at the unnecessary waste of it all.

“Eight dollars for a cup of cider? Come on, you're being scammed.” Nesta pulls at his elbow, trying to lead him away from the drinks stand.

“But it comes in one of those cute little jars,” Cassian protests as he’s pulled away.

There’s a laughably small hay-bale maze that they complete in less than three minutes, thanks to Cassian being tall enough to see over the hay bales. Then there’s a ferris wheel that Nesta adamantly refuses to get onto, regardless of how high it goes or not. And then, without either of them noticing, the sun starts slipping behind the mountains.

With her arms full of bags of snacks and random knickknacks that she’ll never need in her life, Nesta finds herself back in the market area.

There’s a painting at an art stand that has caught her attention. Something about the brush strokes and choice of color palette… it reminds her of Feyre’s art style. Amateur, but warm and comforting, clearly made with love and dedication. She approaches the elder salesman carefully, only wanting a closer look at the piece.

It’s of a glittering forest in the peak of autumn, ruby and flame-colored leaves littering the scene. An unwalked pathway cuts through the scene, and a longing Nesta can’t place swells in her stomach.

“My daughter painted this one,” the salesman says to her, pride peeking through his voice. She glances up at the kind-faced man. “Only this one?” she asks. The rest of the paintings don’t have the same art style, Feyre’s style.

“Yes.” He places a protective hand over the canvas. “She’s still learning, but she’s got heart and potential. One day she’ll be a better artist than me.”

Nesta blinks at his words. “How much is it?”

“How much do you have?”

She looks down at her hands full of shopping bags and realizes not one of them is carrying her wallet. “Oh, I must have left my money with my—” She glances up then and looks around. “Cassian?”

He was just here with her. They were walking together and she took note of the pretty fairy lights that were starting to turn on, and then she saw the art stand. She scans the milling crowd for a glimpse of his face, but it’s five p.m. and fully dark now.

Unease starts to pump in her chest. “Cassian?” she calls again. She wanders away from the art stand, painting and salesman forgotten. Maneuvering her full hands, she wrangles her phone out of her back pocket and turns it on. Just as she suspected— no signal. Waving it high in the air doesn’t do much for her either.

Shoving her phone back in her pocket, Nesta takes a strained breath and resolves to keep looking. If she can’t find him, she can always make her way back to the parking lot—

Something shoves hard into Nesta’s back, and her glasses slip right off her nose in the collision. She feels a metallic crunch under her boot and gasps. Suddenly there are people everywhere, heading in the opposite direction that she is, and whoever bumped into her yells a quick apology that gets lost in the crush of bodies.

Nesta stumbles out of the crowd, blinking quickly. She can’t see a thing, and the fairy lights are now blurry orbs. “My glasses—” she says to nobody. She scans the flattened grass and dirt furiously, squinting until she gets a headache, but she can’t find them. “Shit.”

She ends up roaming out of the market area, finding herself back on the fairgrounds. There are a few tents around her, but they're empty and the noise has died down. She doesn’t know where she’s going.

At one point, Nesta simply drops her bags and keeps walking without them. She barely notices leaving them behind. The magic has drained out of the festival, and she just wants to find her way back to Cassian’s truck. If the ferris wheel is that way, then the exit should be that way… she thinks.

She looks around in the dark, frustrated tears rising at her inability to recognize anything. She's alone. She’s cold. She was abandoned.

Nesta doesn't know how long she stands there, hopeless in some deserted corner of the fairgrounds. She forgets what she's supposed to be doing, and just stands there staring at nothing. Escaping to a numbing void in her mind.

The desperate call of her name brings her back to earth.

Blinking, Nesta turns around to find a tall figure heading towards her. Cassian.

He’s holding something in his hand, she can tell, but he drops it when he sees her face and breaks into a run.

“Nesta!” Hard warmth crashes into her as strong arms grab her and yank her close. Her face presses into his chest, and hot tears fall despite the lingering numbness.

“Where did you go?” Cassian is demanding. “You had me so fucking scared—”

“I lost my glasses,” she says weakly into the wool of his coat.

“I know.” He goes from stroking her back to clutching her face. His thumbs rub at the wetness beneath her eyes, and finally she can see his face. He’s close enough that she can read every detail, their foreheads pressed tightly together. He isn't letting go.

She presses her lips together. “I lost you.”

“I know.”

In the next moment, Nesta feels everything all at once: Cassian’s heavy breath on her face, his fingers digging into her scalp, his hazel eyes looking relieved and apologetic and terrified at the same time. His heartbeat racing beneath her hands.

For the briefest eternity, Nesta and Cassian share the same mind. They are thinking the exact same thing.

There’s a moment of painful hesitation, where Nesta has the opportunity to pull away. She doesn't take it, and by then it's too late— Cassian’s mouth is on hers.

Oh. Oh.

Nesta buckles a little under the weight of his kiss, but he holds her upright with his grip. His fingers wind so tightly into her braid she worries he might undo the whole thing, but then she's tucking her cold hands into the warmth of his sweater and wow, what a wonderful end to a terrible night.

His lips break from hers for a breath, only to come in again and kiss her deeper this time. A helpless noise escapes from one or both of them. She’s unraveling with every stroke of his tongue, and she thinks distantly that if kisses were flavored, this one would be sweet enough to make her teeth ache.

It's over far too soon, with Cassian’s series of kisses slowing until they stop completely. He pulls back far enough that they both have room to breathe, and with oxygen comes sharp reality.

For once, Nesta has no words. Her thought process is a tape jammed on a few moments ago, so Cassian is the one that has to slowly drop his hands from her hair and clear his throat.

“Let's go home,” is all he says.

***

The drive back to the cabin is silent. Nesta puts her earbuds in and turns on music as soon as they get in the truck, and halfway home Cassian glances over and realizes she's fallen asleep.

His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and it's a struggle to keep his eyes on the headlight-lit road ahead.

Losing track of Nesta with no way to contact her was one thing, but nothing scared Cassian more than when his eyes caught the metallic glint of broken gold rims in the trampled dirt of the marketplace.

After running from stall to stall searching for Nesta, only one man was able to give Cassian a straight answer. “She was looking at some art and then she went that way,” the old salesman pointed. “She seemed upset; I think she was looking for you.”

The pieces of Nesta's glasses sit in a bag in the backseat now, tucked alongside a canvas painting of an autumn landscape.

The relief Cassian felt when he found her in one piece, when she turned to him with the saddest eyes— he was more cemented in his feelings for her in that moment than in any late night he’d spent dreaming about her.

And when she looked at him like that, fighting not to cry… it was over for him. Weeks of restraint that he hadn't even noticed building up snapped at the last second, until he was kissing Nesta like it was his final dying wish. All of it, utterly over.

He glances over to her now, where she sleeps with her head against the fogged window, exhausted after the day she's had. His hands twitch with the temptation to reach out and touch her.

Gravel crunches as Cassian pulls up into the driveway, and he looks at Nesta again and sighs. He almost goes to wake her, but changes his mind at the last moment and gets out of the car instead. Circling around to the passenger side, he opens the door and carefully lifts her out of her seat.

Her head lolls against his chest, but she doesn't wake. Stress and high emotions have no doubt knocked her out for the rest of the night.

Realizing there's no way to unlock the front door while holding Nesta, Cassian has to circle around to the back of the cabin, entering through the open kitchen door and carrying her on silent feet up the stairs.

Once she's safely tucked in her bed, Cassian can relax his shoulders for the first time all night. Later, he sits down in the half-lit kitchen with Nesta’s broken glasses before him. The frame is split right down the middle, but he already knows Nesta won't allow him to get her a new pair. He’ll need wire and some pliers.

Tying his hair back, he settles down and gets to work.

***

a/n: i'm trying to apologize less for my work but this chapter is not only short and late but also super iffy in terms of writing quality 🥴 so im sorry. if my secret snowflake gift has anything to do with it part 8 will also be a little late (i'm looking for balance guys i really am).

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01

#a favor #ncssianwrites #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

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caffeinated-croissant · 3 years

Text

Blue, Red Black and Infinity

This is my submission for @writersmonth ‘s pride collection. The prompt was to write using all the colors of a flag. I chose the Polyamorous flag with a story featuring Jason Grace, Percy Jackson, and Rachel Dare.

Jason Anderson Grace and Rachel Elizabeth Dare were artists. They each had their own preferences of mediums, styles, and inspiration. Jason preferred his sketchbooks, his ink, his charcoal and his oil pastels. Rachel on the other hand loved acrylic paint, canvas, water color, and chalk. Jason’s style tended to be more realistic in nature while Rachel took on the approach of abstract and full of color that maybe never was there but always should’ve been. Most of Jason’s inspiration comes from the influences around him and what he metaphorically consumes in content. Rachel takes her inspiration as it comes to her, maybe it’ll be a dream or a random thought or maybe the world just speaks to her long enough for something to form.

Between Rachel and Jason there was one thing they could easily agree to in terms of art, their boyfriend Percy Jackson was a fucking masterpiece and he was the perfect surface to work together with their art.

Right now in their three bedroom apartment, Percy was sitting on one of the special chairs in the shared art studio as Rachel and Jason used his chest as a canvas. Rachel was sitting to his left on a cushioned stool while Jason was over on his right sitting on a matching stool. They were both using non-toxic paint/ paint markers while listening to a playlist Percy had made for them.

“Is this a together project or two separate pieces?” Percy asked them as his eyes wandered around the studio with so many different pieces, some finished, others works in progress, and a small portion currently discontinued.

“It’s gonna be a singular piece.” Jason answered not bothering to look up and lose his concentration of whatever he was.

Percy didn’t have to see what it was for him to know it would turn out breathtaking. “What is it?”

“It’s just a little something we’ve been working on as a surprise.” Jason barely glanced up but in that split second of eye contact Percy could feel himself getting lost in the ever changing blue of the sky. It could shift from a blue mixed with dark grays and tinged with purples, into a baby blue tinted with silvers and grays and finally into the shade it was now: the deep clear blue of the summer sky. These were Percy’s favorite shades of his long time favorite color.

“Rachel, why are your initials the only ones that make any sense?” Percy was lying in the middle of the bed and staring up into the popcorn ceiling void of their apartment. Jason was curled next to him with his arm firly locked around Percy’s waist. Rachel was on his other side partially ready for the day and partially distracted with new painting ideas.

She glanced over and tilted her head at him, “What do you mean?”

“Out of all our initials, only yours makes any sense. Mine go like pej or P.E.J and both sound weird. Jason’s are jag which sounds like jagged or they end up as J.A.G which also sounds weird. But then your initials go and make the word red, like your hair.”

“I dunno but I guess I’m just special like that,” she laughed before getting up to finish getting ready.

“With the craft fair coming up next weekend, do you want me to run by the craft store and get anything?”

“That would honestly be great, I need more of those jars and the red paint you got a while ago.”

“Alright then, when Jason wakes up I’ll write everything down and head out.” He pulled her in for a soft kiss.

The rooftop of their apartment was not Percy’s first choice for a date but as it turns out it definitely isn’t the worst idea that was ever thought of. And as long as they all stayed away from the edge Percy knew he’d be fine and so would his lovers.

The date itself was Jason’s idea and he set it all up to surprise Rachel and Percy. He set out blankets and cushions from the apartment to make a comfy little nest for them all. They ended up watching the movie Tangled together with Jason sitting in the middle. When the movie started playing the song I See The Light Jason looked up from the movie and over to the loves of his life on either side of him. They were both somewhere between attentive and close to nodding off.

Jason gave a soft kiss to Rachel’s forehead, expecting to be able to place a soft kiss in the dark curls on his other side. Instead Rachel blinked up at him before shifting to lay on top of him and make out.

As the song finished they broke apart before shifting further to see Percy easily curled into Jason’s side, more asleep than awake. The pair glanced at each other before Rachel gave a mischievous smirk.

Jason shook his head, already having an idea of what she wanted to do.

Rachel gave him a light kiss on the nose before moving her attention to her new target.

In order to at least try and stop Rachel before she pounced, Jason wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed her right against him.

Rachel was not complacent in being physically held down, not when a perfectly kissable Percy was right next to her, and so she struggled and wrestled with the one armed Jason. Naturally they both became absorbed in the fight as it escalated to the point where Jason started using both his arms. They rolled around on the roof for a bit each trying to pin the other, until finally Rachel was sitting on top of him with both of his arms pinned to his side.

She was already breathing heavily as she leaned down to kiss him, when they once again broke apart she remembered why they were wrestling. Looking over she saw her other lover sitting up still looking half asleep. He was wrapped up in what looked like one of Jason’s oversized hoodies, and his black curls were messier than usual.

Rachel glanced down at Jason before trying to book it over to Percy. That did not work nearly as well as she hoped, considering now it was a free for all race and, as long as no one got hurt, sabotage was fair game.

The race was not long lived but was eventually won by Jason who easily pulled Percy into his lap and kissed him. As the nice girlfriend (and sore loser) she was, Rachel of course started trying to tickle them both; and let it be known to the world Jason and Percy were both very ticklish but so was she. Jason and Percy were forced apart by Percy’s breathless giggles. Jason of course took his revenge and their war began again this time as a free for all in a lawless land.

The fight was long and left them exhausted. But left them with certain highlights like Jason being ganged up on by Rachel and Percy, or at the end when Percy started laughing so hard he had to wave a white flag as his chest hurt. After the white flag was called they all paused to collapse next to one another and catch their breath.

“Guys, look up at the moon tonight,” Percy said, trying to point out the full moon above.

“It’s huge!” Jason pointed out.

“That's cause tonight’s a super moon.”

“What’s that mean?” Rachel asked, looking over at Percy.

“Basically that it’s a full moon and this is the closest the moon will be to the earth this year.”

The trio didn’t talk very much after that, instead studying a combination of each other and the inky black of the night sky with its infinite stars.

#percy jackson #jason grace #rachel elizabeth dare #perchel #Jercy #Jasperchel #jason x percy #Jason x rachel #percy x rachel #jason x percy x rachel #my writing #polyamory #poly ship

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droogiesanddiscourse · 3 years

Text

HCs: R.P. McMurphy with an Artist S/O

Original Message: @anon “HELLO YOUR MAJESTY MAY I PLEASE REQUEST H/C’S FOR R.P MCMURPHY WITH A ARTIST S/O?❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️”

A/N: HELP!!! WE’RE WRITING FOR R.P. MCMURPHY NOW AAA!!!! I am so so so so SO excited to get into this, I love this man so much I believe in Jack Nicholson supremacy. I love u bby thanks for the request! No warnings! Have fun!

• This man is the biggest, most lovable goof out there. I don’t think he has a serious bone in his body. He’s always got new tricks up his sleeves to keep you on your toes, and you never know what to expect with your relationship with Mac.

• Of course he knew you were an artist even before you started dating. But he never really got to see much of your work, or your work process in general. And that’s okay, he respects your privacy.

• Kinda.

• Okay, not really, he wants to see what’s in that sketchbook one way or another.

• “Whatcha’ doin’ there, baby?” He’ll sneak up behind you, catching you off guard as you try to frantically hide the sketches you made of Mac. Always being too quick for you, he snatches your sketchbook up, dangling it above your head out of reach.

• “Aw my baby’s an artist!! Don’t be shy, don’t be shy! Let me see what you’re up to, okay?” He holds it above your reach again as you frantically jump up, trying to take it back. He can’t help but smile at this, you were just so cute when you get flustered.

• Much to your dismay, he opens up your sketchbook and flips through the pages, shocked when he finds multiple sketches of him. His face drops in surprise, finding page after page of just nothing but him in various poses - sitting on the couch, his face in his hands, smoking a cigarette. For the first time, Mac is actually rendered speechless. He couldn’t believe someone would actually care about him enough to actually draw him.

• “Look at that! That’s me, isn’t it?” Mac points, You nod your head, happy he likes your art and didn’t find it weird or anything. He gives you a smile back, matching your energy. “Wow, and after all this time you were hiding this from me??”

• Mac will hold the book up to his face, trying to match the pose you drew him in. He’ll point at the sketch, then back at his face, then at the sketch, then back at his face. “Ya, see that? Like lookin’ in a mirror!” This makes you both laugh.

• He’ll lowly whistle in appreciation as he thumbs through the rest of your sketchbook. “You don’t gotta hide this from me anymore, hear me? I think these are absolutely fantastic, and I mean it.” He looks up at you, “I really wanna see what you create next, okay? Keep me in the loop.”

• And with that, he gently tosses your sketchbook back down onto your desk and walks away, whistling a tune to himself like nothing just happened. He always enters any room in a whirlwind, and exits casually, leaving you a bit confused. He’s got a big personality.

• He loves holding on to the little doodles you make, but he’s kinda a whole mess and will be like “Oh this...yeah this is some of your best work! I really love this one, mind if I keep it?” and then he shoved it in his pocket like an DUMMY. But he doesn’t do this with like, any malicious intent or anything he just wants to carry them everywhere he goes but like. He crumples them haha. But that’s how he shows his extremely chaotic affection and he NEVER loses any of them. He isn’t organized in the slightest, but he has his own ways.

• He can’t draw. At all. I mean I’m not sure if this man knows how to hold a pencil properly. And that's okay! Because sometimes he’ll just like to sit with you and steal your pretty colored pencils / markers / pastels / paints and make some of his own “art.” Eventually you just buy him his own sketchbook so he can sit next to you and doodle with you.

• Sometimes you gotta remind him to not waste paint though, because this man will just put giant GLOBS of paint on the canvas you give him, and he’ll get it all over the place too. But he’ll claim it’s apart of his ~artistic process~ and you ~can’t rush perfection~

• “Hey, c’mon! It’s ART, don’t you see? Hold on, get a better look at it.” He’ll hold it up in front of your face, nothing but a chaotic mix of colors and textures. “It’s very deep, I guess you just don’t understand, everybody’s a critic...” he’ll mouth off in a sarcastically sassy manner, barely being able to contain the smirk coiling on his lips.

• PAINT NIGHTS??? Yes absolutely yes. Mac seems like the type of guy to want to watch a painting tutorial on VHS or something and have the two of you follow along, step-by-step. Bonus points if you get a little tipsy beforehand too, that just adds to the silliness and fun of it all.

• Mac is just really honored to have such a talented and amazing s/o like you :’)

#rp mcmurphy x reader #r.p. mcmurphy x reader #one flew over the cuckoo's nest x reader #one flew over the cuckoo's nest imagine #jack nicholson x reader #jack nicholson imagine #SOFT BOY ALERT #1970s imagine #1970s imagines #1970s movie imagines

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hteragram-x · 4 years

Text

Remus Sanders is an artist HCs – part 2

Next part of [THIS POST]

It may be slightly more angsty than last time... (but it’s still packed with this Creativitwins content I crave... plus there are hints at Intrulogical, Dukeceit, and Intruality).

...

21. When Remus wants Logan to join him with creating new hybrids and some weird terraformations in the Imagination he leans in way too close and asks: “wanna play god?” in a seductive voice. (Works every time.)

22. He paints a lot and he usually needs gigantic canvas, because he’s very expressive and energetic, so the paint goes everywhere (including the artist himself… I mean he drinks it) and he’s got no patience to deal with some small easel when he has A VISION.

23. He likes recreating already existing famous paintings, but – obviously – makes them more sexual and/or bloody. The more disturbing the better.

24. He knows quite a lot about classical art and the well known artists. If you want to rebel against the rules you need to know them first, right? (he learnt that too)

25. Remus is better with theory, Roman has more artistic intuition when it comes to new techniques. So they can often teach each other. Remus giving the facts and Roman quickly coming up with new ways to apply this knowledge in practice. (Logan’s very proud.) They generally like trying new techniques and materials to paint or sculpt together.

26. Remus, just like Roman, really wants a big audience (or any audience, at least). The fact that he’s “trapped” in Thomas’ mind is sometimes depressing, because his brother’s ideas are quite often created in the real world, but his art stays in the subconscious with no one to witness its disturbing glory.

27. So Roman made him an art gallery where he can display all his proudest creations. Most of the visitors are just the made up people from Imagination, but sometimes one of the sides will go there too. Patton has more than once spent the entire evening looking at the displays through his fingers, but he’s seen every single work of art and tried real hard to honestly compliment at least one thing about all of them. (He even took the autograph. Remus definitely didn’t cry.)

28. Once Roman and Remus decided to paint each other portraits and then autoportraits to hang them together for comparison. It started as a friendly competition to brag about their skills, but it turned out that each brother painted their twin with much more sad expression than they had on their autoportraits. They decided to not talk about it again, but they kept the paintings in their rooms nonetheless.

29. Remus once gave every side their portrait for birthday or nameday. They were very… ehm… realistic. Let’s just say that not every side wants to show them publically.

30. He likes asking other sides to be his models as a sneaky excuse to spend time with them. Most of them already discovered his intentions, but they come to his study anyway. Deceit is the most patient and graceful model and the only one willing to take off any clothes (to show more scales, mostly). Logan can be patient too if you let him read or rant about something while posing. Patton is too energetic so he can only pose for quick sketches.

...

31. Remus stopped asking Roman to be a model, because… well… He can just draw himself without moustache, since they are twins (in an AU where the sides don’t look exactly the same…; if they do look alike, then he can draw anyone and put into Roman’s costume). But to be honest Roman just can’t stay in one position for more than twelve seconds. He’s easily distracted and gets excited, leave him alone.

32. When the twins were little they drew a lot pictures together on a giant cardboard. You could always guess which part was done by which twin. (And they really made Patton suffer by constantly asking which one he likes more.)

33. One of Remus’ biggest dreams is for Thomas to direct a horror movie. The most obnoxious and over the top production, full of gore, but with a super sad ending that affects you more than all the limbs and eyeballs flying around earlier.

34. He has at least twenty variants of the script and a long list of ideas (such as the designs of the monsters and precise descriptions of gruesome deaths), but at some point he realized that his big project will never be transferred to the silver screen. He gave up on asking Thomas about it after the seventh script, but kept writing.

35. When asked nicely he will paint, draw, sculpt etc. something pretty and delicate for others. Sometimes other sides do that to tease him and see him sketching fluffy animals, but he actually appreciates that they want his art. So if he spends a quiet evening painting some sunflowers in watercolours it’s all good. (But they better praise his work adequately. He could have spent that time sketching naked dudes, so be grateful, Janus.)

36. When struck with a sudden wave of inspiration Remus will write down his idea (or sketch something) no matter the situation. With a fork on the wall? Sure. With permanent marker on his forehead. Of course. (So you should not be surprised to see him walking all day with the words “tentacles, birthday cake, salt” written all over his face.)

37. He likes designing tattoos. He even put them on two other sides (they agreed!). [I’m not going to tell which ones.] And he really enjoyed it. You combine art with causing pain. How could he not like it?

38. He did at some point use his own blood to paint. It’s Remus, let’s be real.

39. When he’s melancholic and needs a change he likes to stay on his side of Imagination and just shift all the things around. He rebuilds the parts of his tower or let the forest grow at the impossibly fast speed. He doesn’t consider it art, but he often ends up with something new and interesting, so maybe it is? (plus he feels better afterwards)

40. But when he’s extra sad, he would just sit down and write poetry. Because he honestly thinks that poems are kind of lame. And what’s lamer than being sad, am I right? haha (someone hug him).

...

I don’t know if I’m finished with this list… Probably not.

[Again, part one is HERE.]

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baka-monarch · 4 years

Note

👉👈 soulmate au where whatever you write appears on the other's arm but one is smol and the other is the human who caught them. 👉👈

Was scrolling through my WIPs when I saw this thing I wrote at some point around the beginning of summer. It was supposed to have more chapters, and he gets caught eventually, but here's chapter 1. But then I remembered your ask and how I'd been having writer's block, so I hope this will suffice! Also, it has trans Patton, so don't freak out because of Logan's soul mate

Just A Little Emo

Chapter 1 (idk if I'm ever going to finish the other chapters if I'm being honest)

Virgil had just turned three not even a month ago, but loved to play with the marker tips his parents had borrowed for his present. He didn’t have any paper scraps to doodle on, but that didn’t stop him as his arm got covered with every color he could fit on there. He stuck out his tongue, laying on the ground, focused on his masterpiece. His oversized hoodie, from his mom, was discarded to the side, giving him full access to the canvas that was his skin. He was so focused that when suddenly a little flower was drawn out of nowhere, he jumped making a startled noise as he waved his hand around trying to get it off.

“Virgil, what’s wrong?” His mother spoke gently, as she came to investigate.

“Fower!?” Virgil held out his little hand showing her the illustration still being added to by an unknown hand. His mother smiled softly, knowing exactly what was going on.

“Honey, that’s your soul mate.” She picked him up, and held his hand so he could watch as more detail was added.

“Souw matt?” He looked at her curiously.

“”What you draw on your skin, your soulmate will see too, and when they draw it’ll be just for you!”” His mother quoted, booping him on the nose on the last word. “Your soulmate is your true love, the person you’re meant to be with. When you draw on your skin, you’re showing them that you care, and that you will always be there for them…” She trailed off sadly at the end.

“Daddy souw matt?” Virgil pointed to his mother’s hand, not noticing her change of mood.

“No, daddy isn’t my soulmate. I’m afraid neither of us have met ours yet.” She looked down at her hand, where there was currently a picture of a small four leaf clover, with its leaves designed like hearts. “Most borrowers don’t ever meet their soulmate.”

“Mommy?” Virgil squished her cheeks between his hands, getting marker ink all her face, smiling when she gave him a confused look. “Souw matt see wove now!” She giggled at his words.

“Yes, Virgil, they can see how much I love them now.” Some words were written on her arm making her chuckle, Virgil tried to make sense of the scribbles, but had no idea what they meant. “Why don’t you go draw something for your soulmate while I make dinner, okay?”

“Okie!” He giggled jumping off her lap. He grabbed his markers and started coloring in the flower that was being drawn. His mother smiled fondly at him.

Neither of them knew that this was going to be their last memory together. That, after that night Virgil’s father would leave her, taking Virgil with him.

⇔

Virgil spent two years without a mom. His dad explained that he’d found out his soulmate didn’t live too far away and had made plans in secret to be with her by meeting at a house close to where each lived. Unfortunately, they had miscalculated and Virgil’s dad had to take care of Virgil alone for two years. Throughout that time Virgil was left alone in the walls often, and had a game him and his soulmate would play. One of them would start a drawing and the other would finish it, they did that and many other things together just through their connection alone. Neither of them knew how to read or write yet, so when Virgil felt alone he would talk to himself, imagining that his soulmate was there with him, listening to all of his random little thoughts.

Little did he know that his soulmate was doing the same thing.

Roman King could remember that night clear as day. He had woken up from his nap time to find his arms and hands covered with all sorts of colors, with more still appearing. He had rushed out of the nursery, ignoring his snoring brother, and straight(lol)to his mom. “Mommy! Mommy!” His mother turned around from the cooking pasta at her son’s distressed voice, seeing tears pricking his eyes as he held out his arms with fear. It didn’t take her long to understand. She picked up her sniffling son, wiping his tears away. “Mommy, there color o-on m-m-me, a-a-and i-it’s sti-il coming!”

“Shh, shh.” She rubbed the tears and snot from his face. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s only your soulmate.”

“Saoul malt?” He looked at her confused, then back down at his arms, trying to see if there was something there, other than the colors. His mother chuckled fondly.

“Yes, your “saoul malt”.” She booped him on the nose. “”What you draw on your skin, your soulmate will see too, and when they draw it’ll be just for you!”” She tapped his arm as an example. “Your soulmate is drawing for you Roman, it means that they love you.”

“Wove?” Roman’s eyes widened and sparkled at the familiar word.

“Yes, love, like Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming.” She chuckled as he looked down at his arms with wonder and delight.

“Pwincess?” He held his arms out to her in question.

“Maybe, you’ll never know until you meet her, Prince Roman.” She smiled as he gasped with wonder. His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Do you wanna draw for her?” She grabbed a discarded marker off the counter and held it out to him.

“Mhm!” He snatched the marker and wiggled out of her arms as she set him down. As soon as he was back on the floor he fell to his bum and uncapped the marker. It only took him a few seconds to think of what to draw for his princess. A flower. It was perfect, what princess doesn’t like a flower?

⇔

For the next two years Roman always had a marker on him just so he could draw with his soulmate. You could almost say that they were inseparable. It was during these two years that Roman started preschool, while there he learned a little about writing, mainly his name, but that didn’t stop him from picking up the skill quickly as he wrote and rewrote his name on his arm over and over again hoping that someday he would know more about these scribbles so he could ‘talk’ to his soulmate.

One day as Virgil was coloring one of his soulmate’s doodles he saw a series of scribbles appear. Although he recognized them as words, he had no idea what they meant. Not knowing what else to do, he mimicked the scribbles to show that he saw them to his soulmate. In return his soulmate scribbled again, and Virgil in turn copied him. They kept doing this, scribbling and rescribbleing, each new scribble being more clearer and clean. At some point Virgil even ran out of room on his arms, so he listed his oversized hoodie and started scribbling there.

“What’re ya doin there Spiderman?” His dad asked as he returned from borrowing.

“Souw matt.” Virgil pointed at the scribbles, showing the red ink where his soulmate had scribbled and the black ink where he had copied them. Virgil’s dad recognized what the scribbles were and what they said easily.

“It’s your soulmate’s name Spiderman.” He explained as he picked up his son.

“Na-ame?” Virgil sounded out.

“Yeah, it looks like your soulmate is Roman.” His father smiled.

“Wroammin?” Virgil tried the name.

“Yeah, Roman.” His father said a little more hard, trying to help his son to understand the name.

“Raman.” Virgil smiled, proud that he ‘got’ the name. His dad chuckled at his son’s attempt, but still proud how close he was.

“Do you wanna write your name?” He gently took the marker tip, ready to help the kid.

“Yeah!” Virgil exclaimed with stars in his eyes.

⇔

It wasn’t until later that night that Roman saw a series of scribbles appear on his arm, spelling out, what his mom claimed said, “Virgil.” Through the next two years up until kindergarten, Roman did all he could to learn about writing, as Virgil worked with his dad when he could to learn how to write in return. It wasn’t until the first day of kindergarten that Roman realized that there was more to reading and writing than just talking to your soulmate.

“Hello class, my name is Mrs. Parrot, and welcome to kindergarten.” Roman was five now, and was in kindergarten. Roman barely heard the teacher as he and Virgil tried to write each other’s names more fancier than the other. So far it seemed that Virgil was winning as he added all these little stars and curly letters, but Roman was determined to win. He paid no mind to the rest of the class or the teacher, as he wrote Virgil’s name on his arm in bubble letters, using all the markers he had to color them in, adding little spiders and skulls (he knew Virgil liked them from all the times they finished each other’s drawings), and making sure that there was more than enough purple. In fact he was so engrossed that he hadn't noticed the class sharing their names, hadn’t noticed all the eyes that had focused on him from his assigned table, hadn’t noticed the lesson, and had definitely not noticed the teacher's annoyance. Well, he hadn’t noticed until the teacher snached all of his markers away.

“Hey!” Roman glared up at her. It didn’t take long for her to see his soulmate’s writing on his arm.

“I understand if you want to write to your soulmate, but please pay attention.” She snapped before clicking back to her desk, depositing the markers into her desk. “You’ll get these back at the end of class.” Was all she said before returning to teaching. Roman only pouted, perfectly content with not paying attention until then.

“My soulmate also draws to me during school.” To Roman’s left there was a boy about his age, except he looked uptight with his hair made well and the little suit he wore. The boy fixed his glasses before holding out a hand for him to shake. “I am Logan.” As Roman went to shake the hand, he almosted wanted to laugh in surprise, despite Logan’s cold exterior his arm was covered in cute little drawings, most of which were goofy little cartoons. Roman hesitated to collect himself before taking the hand to shake it.

“Roman.” As their hands shook they noticed that their soulmates had stopped drawing momentarily. When they pulled their hands apart, Roman noticed that he had gotten some of his purple ink on Logan’s hand. Instead of Logan being distraught, his eyes widened in amazement as the word ‘Virgil’ appeared next to the smudge, he looked at Roman’s hand to find the word ‘Peggy’ written on his. “Peggy?” Roman questioned.

“She’s my soulmate.” Logan thought for a moment, “They must know each other.” he theorised.

“No way!” Roman exclaimed. “How do we know for sure?” Logan wasted no time in pulling out a marker of his own, keeping it and his hand under the desk. He didn’t normally break rules, but this was to test a hypothesis. He used Roman’s arm for reference as he wrote ‘Roman’ onto his arm. Only moments later did the word ‘Logan’ appear on Roman’s arm. “That’s so cool!”

“Indeed.” Logan breathed in surprise.

⇔

Virgil’s dad had recently found a small borrower settlement in an abandoned sewer pipe not even five feet away from the house they were living in. So when his dad was busy for the day, he left Virgil with one of the shop owners there, she had a daughter about Virgil’s age as well. Her name was Peggy, and Virgil got along with her well. It was on this particular day that Virgil and Peggy were left in a backroom of the shop unattended with some marker tips, and Virgil was doing all he could to write Roman’s name in the most magnificent way he could, as Roman was writing his name just as grand. Peggy watched from the side with intrigue as she drew little cartoony puppies every now and then on her arm. They didn’t really think much of their different arms, until Peggy brought up a point.

“What if our soulmates know each other?” She wondered aloud.

“There’s no way.” Virgil deadpanned, not looking up from his writing even though it seemed Roman had stopped. “It’s basically impossible.”

“Did your soulmate stop drawing?” She noted.

“We were writing, but yeah.” He stopped his scribbling for a moment to actually look at it.

“Well, my soulmate usually stops drawing around this time as well.” She explained. “Maybe they live together?”

“It’s probably just a coincidence.” Virgil tried, but there was no denying it when suddenly the splotch on Virgil’s hand was mirrored onto Peggy’s hand.

“See!?” She bounced with excitement and grabbed a marker tip. “What’s your name again?”

“Uhm-”

“Nevermind!” She cut him off as she used his arm for reference, she quickly wrote his name next to the smudge on her hand, before grabbing Virgil’s hand.

“Hey!” He tried to pull it back, but there was nothing he could do as she wrote her name on his hand. “What was that for-” The words were lost on Virgil’s tongue as Roman’s name appeared on Peggy’s arm. “How…”

“See! They do know each other!” She bounced.

“What’s your soulmate’s name?” Virgil asked.

“Logan!” She chirped.Virgil nodded and wrote Logan onto his arm. Moments later there was a little check mark next to the name, showing that Roman had seen it.

“Looks like they do know each other.”

#sander sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #g/t #giant/tiny #borrower Virgil #ask #request #promt #soulmate au #just a little emo #trans patton #kid roman #kid virgil

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musictrash0426 · 3 years

Text

Killing Stalking

My name is Elizabeth Stevens, I’m 17 and it is one month until my senior year of highschool. Most of my friends are going crazy trying to plan out their futures. However, unlike my peers, I've known what I've wanted to be since I was 13. I want to be an artist, my parents fully support my decision which is nice. They have bought me plenty of professional quality supplies since my 14th birthday when they saw all the hard work I put into my art. I've even started selling prints of my work on Redbubble. I also have quite the following

Overall I live in a pretty good neighbourhood. It has great people, including my best friend Kai who lives a few streets over. My family and I live in a pretty large house. It has three floors which is a little big if you ask me. There are only the three of us living here, me, mom and dad. But with that being said my parents gave me the entire basement on my 13th birthday. They also helped me set up every room down here the way I want. Not much has changed, even after being down here for four years..

When you come down the stairs you are greeted with my lounge area. Where we have a couch, tv, game system, large bookshelf and some other things. Next we have my room where I have a fairly minimal look. I have a large bed, large dresser, a walk in closet, and my vanity where I do my makeup. The next room is probably my favourite; it's my art studio. Like I said my parents have supported me over the years so I have a lot of supplies. Honestly I couldn't be more grateful for them and everything they’ve given me. I have a full easel, desk, and a lot of supplies, markers, colour pencils, paint (water, acrylic, oils), alongside my new drawing tablet.

This morning when I got up, I went to my art room and started sketching. I've gotten into this habit as it helps me get into a creative mindset, along with getting into drawing for the day. Once I stop doodling I start to make a list of the things of supplies I had recently run out of.

As I was about to leave, I asked my parents if they needed anything. My mom told me to get her a drink from Starbucks on my way home as she knows I’m planning on going there anyways.

I get into my car and drive to the art store. Luckily this store is only 10 minutes from my house. I walk into the store and look for the supplies on my list. While going through the store, grabbing the things I needed, I decided I also wanted to try out a new paint while I was here. I got some winsor and newton acrylics in red, blue,yellow, sienna, black and white along with some mixing pallets. I also got a canvas as I want to make a large painting later.

My mom texted me asking if I could pick up milk and eggs. So I ran into the supermarket and picked up the few things she wanted. I then went to starbucks, got both my parents, and myself a few drinks, and went home.

I got out of my car balancing shopping bags on my arm,the drinks in my hand and I went inside. I put the milk and eggs in the fridge, gave my parents their drinks and made my way down to my art room to put my supplies away. I started brainstorming ideas of what I want to paint and I finally came up with a concept I liked. I open my sketchbook and I start to draw the rough copy of the picture before blowing it up on the canvas and painting it. While I am drawing out the picture I'm watching lavendertowne’s creepypastas series as it's one of my favourites on youtube.

In my concentration, I lose track of time, and before I know it it’s 4:30 pm. My mom walks to my art room saying her and dad are going on a trip for the next week. So I get the house to myself, which is cool. I've been home alone before. “Elle, you can have Kai over to stay for the week if you want.” mom said. “Also I transferred some money into your account so you and Kai can just order some food if you guys get hungry.”

“Thanks mom,” I say “ I love you.”

“Love you too sweetie.”

I walk upstairs with mom as her and dad are about to leave. I hug them goodbye and tell them to have a safe trip.

I decide to take mom up with her offer and invite Kai over for the week. Lately I haven't been wanting to be home alone. So I called him and he said he’d be over in 10 minutes.

I grab a glass of water and wait, before I knew it there was a knock on my door and it was Kai. I give him a hug and he smiles.

“It’s like we haven't seen each other in a while.” Kai teases me. We saw each other yesterday and I called him late last night because I just wanted to talk to someone.

Kai has literally been my best friend since we were both in diapers. Our moms grew up together so it was bound to happen that we would too. He’s my biggest support system, he’s one of the only people who know how I got into art. I watched a lot of anime growing up, I still do, and the art style is what got me into wanting to be an artist.

“Have you started a new piece yet?” Kai asked

“Yeah I have! And I just finished the rough copy” I say.

“Can I watch you work on it?”

“Of course you can silly,” I say with a grin. I show Kai the canvas to let him gauge what I’ve been working on.

“It looks really good!” But his face saddens a little bit. “Are you doing alright?” I give him a confused look. “You tend to draw horror pieces when you're trying to get yourself into a better place.”

Horror pieces are my favourite to draw. I don't have an explanation for it, but I've always liked them. Maybe it's because I loved horror shows growing up but who knows. I look back at all my works and Kai’s right. I tend to do these pictures more when I'm not the best headspace.

“You really know me, at this point it's mostly subconscious” I laugh “I was also watching creepypasta videos so the idea could have come from that. Anyways, what do you think about it so far?”

“I love it of course!” Kai says

I work on transferring it onto the canvas and after about 2 hours the pencil sketch is laid out. Once that's done we decide to go to the movies. We went and saw whatever Kai wanted to see. He picked some rom com which I wasn't mad at as I enjoy these types of movies.

After the movie we went to a sushi place for dinner. I wasn't that hungry so I got the rest of mine to go. Then we went to the supermarket to get some candy and pop for tonight. We decided that we were going to stay up quite a bit of the night so I can work on my artwork and we can just talk about life and stuff. We pull into the parking lot and head inside. This store is open 24/7 so we have plenty of time to get our stuff, but still it is 11:30pm and something makes the air feel very eerie tonight.

After walking around the store Kai and I look at eachother and we both feel like something is off because this uneasy feeling Kai and I hurry up and grab what we wanted. Kai and I decided to pick up Sour Patch Kids, gummy bears and some chips. We then went into the drink aisle where I picked out Dr. Pepper, and ginger ale. Kai picked out diet Pepsi and cream soda. We picked out the four flavours that we both love. We then decided to get a tub of cotton candy ice cream. As we were turning there was this lady who crashed her cart into ours as we were on our way to check out. I looked up and noticed that it was the same lady that had been in each aisle with us, which honestly didn’t make any sense as we just went to the isles we needed.

We check out of the store and head back to the car. After putting everything in the trunk of the car, I look up and see the same woman still there. What the fuck?

“Hey Kai, can you take the cart back please?” He nods and I get into the car and lock it.

I hear a knock that startles me and I look up. It was just Kai. I unlocked the door and he got in. “Wanna tell me why you had the door locked Elle?”

I look over and the woman gets into the car next to us oh great my horror brain made something out of nothing. She was also probably having a movie night with some of her friends.

“It’s nothing Kai, I think I’m just psyching myself out.”

“Okay.” With that we drove back to my place right in the nic of time too as it just started to rain. We shut off all the lights and lock the doors and windows upstairs. We head back down to my studio and I set up everything to begin painting.

I wanted something in the background while I was working so I put on Another. Kai and I have already watched it a few times but we didn’t want to start something new since I wouldn't be able to give it my full attention. Also it's a horror anime so it will put me in the mood for my painting.

I looked down at the outline I drew; it was a girl who had gone psychotic and had a knife in her hand. My plan is to add blood to her once the painting is completely dry, but first I start by painting the eyes. When they are finished they look very dead and already mentally gone inside. I take a break and lay my head on Kai’s shoulder.

“Tired?” he asks me.

“No, I just wanted a break.” We continue watching the anime after two more episodes. There was a bang of thunder and a flash of lightning, I looked out the small window and saw what looked to be a figure of a woman. I looked back to get a better look but she's gone. I must just be seeing things.

I brush it off then get back to my painting. About an hour later I finish painting the skin and I see another flash out of the corner of my eye. I think to myself how odd that is because there was no thunder. I brushed it off as the volume of the show probably just covered the sound. I decided to be done with painting for the night, so we moved out into the lounge area and continued watching Another. There was another flash and in the window we saw her. The woman from the supermarket was in my window.We were going to call the cops then with another flash she's gone.

We decided we couldn't take anymore horror tonight so we put on Ouran Highschool Host Club a few hours later we were on the episode where a character named Tamaki was trying to figure out his friend Haruhi’s biggest fear. When we see a flash of lightning in the episode, it also flashes here, and we see her silhouette again and she vanishes with the lightning once more.

Creeped out we went to my room and lay in bed, I cuddled into Kai because honestly I was shaking and needed comfort.

In the morning Kai and I woke up to banging on the door. I checked the time and it was 8:30 am. We got up and checked no one was there, but there was an envelope that said Elizabeth Steevens and Kai Kalua I brought it inside.

“Ummmm Kai?”

“Yeah?”

I turn the envelope to show him. We were both scared and didn't know what to do. We opened it and there were at least 40 photos of us, starting from when we were coming out of the movie. There were photos of us at the sushi restaurant, the grocery store, and the worst ones of all the ones that were taken looking into my house. Ones of us in my art room, in the lounge, and ones of us asleep in my bed.

Panicked, I call the police and they tell us to come down to the station. Since neither of us knew the woman's name they said there was nothing they could really do for us except to have us tell them if something else happens. Some help they were, I thought.

Kai and I went back to my studio and I continued working on the piece. This time our show of choice was Miria Nikki. As I was painting the hair I saw another flash and considering what happened last night we decided to go to my parents office and check the security cameras and lo and behold she's there on the property.

“Kai whats that in her hand?”

“I don’t know,”

I looked closer and saw that it was a knife. We once again called the police and this time they came, but hearing a car must have scared her. They came inside and asked to watch the cameras with us. Only this time she was at the back door that's connected to the kitchen and of course I happened to leave it unlocked…

“Oh Elizabeth, Kai, come out come out wherever you are..” The woman sang out menacingly. Her voice rang through the house loudly causing me to look to one of the officers for advice

He nods for Kai and I walk out.

“There you two are,”

“Do we know you?” I ask, genuinely confused as to who this woman is.

“Yeah I don't know who you are either.” Kai said just as confused.

“I'm Chloe. I am in your art class.” She says.

We were both confused; we don’t remember having ever seen her before. Our art class had six people in it, us two, three other of our friends and some weird girl who doesn't talk to anybody.

“... you’re the weird girl in our class aren’t you?” Kai questions.

“What did you call me?” She asked with a defensive tone.

“What did you expect him to say, you literally refuse to talk to us. Then whenever the teacher praises my work, you get angry. Besides who goes around taking pictures of people in their own house! That is fucking creepy.” I say

“I get angry because you always get the spotlight! Give someone else a turn.”

“Elle gets the attention because she actually shows her artwork, you just sit in the back of the class and do nothing. If you want attention why ignore us when we try talking to you? What is your problem? And why do you have a knife?” You can tell Kai is starting to lose patience with the situation, as his questions get increasingly aggressive.

“So I can get rid of my competition,” she smiles sweetly.

“What competition? There is no competition Chloe” I ask

“What competition? I have liked Kai forever!” Chloe says frustrated, slightly getting closer to the two of them with the knife.

Kai puts one hand out towards her, while using the other to pull me back with him a couple steps, creating distance between her and I before he speaks again.“I will never like you. Besides there is only one person I like, and hate to break it to sweetheart but it's not you.” This makes me curious who Kai was referring to.

“Then who is it then?” she asks angrily

That's when Kai kissed me. I kissed him back, albeit slightly flustered. This caused Chloe to become enraged, she came towards us with the knife and that's when the cops came out and told her to put the knife down. She complied and dropped the knife as she didn’t realize that the police were here.

One of the two cops took her away as the other came and told us they were going to hold her and do a mental assessment on her. He also checked to see if Kai and I were okay. After we tell him we are he also leaves, leaving Kai and I alone to deal with this new revelation.

“Do you actually like me? Or were you just saying that to get her to stop…” anxious about the answer since I have liked Kai for a while, but didn't want to make things awkward with him.

“Elle I have liked you for a while but I didn't want to lose you.” Kai says as he pulls me closer to him.

I don't know how to respond, all my mind was telling me was ‘kiss him’. I pull him in by his shoulders to another kiss, quickly dispelling doubts either of us had. Kai placed his hands on my waist and melted into it. He pulls away and leans his forehead against mine, just holding me. For the first time in a few days I felt safe.

“Kai?” I ask in a quiet tone almost a whisper.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Can you stay while my parents are gone?” I don’t feel safe enough to be home alone, and you wanted to stay in the comfort that he gave you.

“Of course I can angel.”

#anime #alone #creepy #artist #high school #home alone #horror #oneshot #senior #stalker

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flowerslut · 4 years

Photo

DAY SIX: REINCARNATION Rating: T for language. Words: 2,436

The semi-supernatural meet-cute.

TO BE ALIVE

The noise of the blaring car horn was easily ignored as he crossed the street, not even acknowledging the car trying to make a right hand turn, letting them stew in their irritation at his refusal to wait for the crosswalk signal.

Once he was fully out of it’s way, the car pulled around the corner, and it wasn’t until someone rolled down the window and yelled “watch out, asshole” that he turned and watched the white Tesla speed away. He rolled his eyes before making his way across the street. The sound of hysterical laughter greeted him from a little further down on the sidewalk.

He never bothered to learn the guy’s name—a bum that frequented the neighborhood who was loud but harmless—but Jasper shook his head toward the guy and kept moving. He didn’t have any change or cigarettes to spare for the crazy old man that day, and it was too hot to make small talk. He lifted a hand in a half-wave and continued onward towards home.

It wasn’t until he was four entire blocks from the bus stop when he stopped and swore loudly.

He couldn’t believe he’d left his skateboard on the fucking bus.

He paused for a moment, lifting his head up toward the sky and closing his eyes, concentrating on calming down before his temper got the better of him. After several long seconds he opened his eyes and sighed, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. Someone probably picked it up by now. It wasn’t like the MTA had a lost and found.

He swore again as he resumed his walk. Losing his board meant plenty of things. It would take him longer to get to work, it would take him longer to get home from work, and now he had to walk down the entirety of Spring street in the blistering summer heat.

Shaking out his blond hair he realized that if this was the case, a shorter hairstyle might be necessary. Or, he mused as he began the trek down the street that led to his home, he could grow it out a little more, and just tie it up in the back.

The walk would be almost enjoyable if it wasn’t so damn hot. Of course, the neighborhood had been better when Jasper was a kid. People were nicer. There was more of a sense of community when you walked down the streets. But with the gentrification of the area well underway it had lost a good amount of it’s charm.

Blinking ahead of him, he squinted his eyes into the setting sun. He knew he had a pair of sunglasses somewhere in his backpack, but he’d rather get home quicker than spend a good three minutes digging around in the cluttered bag for a pair of cheap shades.

As he approached a long stretch of road, he focused on someone standing on the sidewalk ahead of him. Directly to his left was a giant wall, separating the street from a highway exit ramp. It was a long, tall thing, stretching most of the street. It used to be prime real estate for graffiti artists, but in the past ten years the city had cracked down. Something about the wall being a part of some long-forgotten war memorial.

It was dumb as hell. The art along this walk used to look sick.

His mood—which was solidly bad but bordering on hopeless—suddenly lifted as he made his way further toward his house. Just ahead, a brand-new, giant mural had been painted on the wall.

He couldn’t hold back his grin as he slowly approached. After he got home and relieved the babysitter he’d probably take Kelsey and Austin back to look at it and take some pictures. Surely, the city had been alerted and it would be gone as soon as the weekend hit. He’d send a picture to Dad, too. Jasper was sure the guy needed something to smile about on his sixth twelve hour shift this week.

The closer he got, he realized that’s what the person on the sidewalk must have been doing; they hadn’t moved in a while. Probably one of the new residents of the newest luxury apartments across the street by the looks of it. She was wearing a white sundress and a yellow bucket hat, and her sneakers looked expensive.

He was barely twenty feet away when her canvas bag fell from her shoulder to the ground, sending all her belongings sprawling across the sidewalk. But as he made his way forward, cautiously now, the girl made no move to collect her items. She didn’t even acknowledge that they’d fallen.

A tiny alarm started to ring in his head, worry blooming abruptly in his stomach. As long as this girl didn’t hit the pavement, it would be okay.

“Um,” he spoke up as he approached, bending down to pick up an aluminum water bottle that had rolled it’s way toward him, “hello? You dropped your stuff.”

The girl didn’t react. At first, Jasper didn’t think she heard him. But then, he heard her.

Sniffling, that was. And when Jasper realized this random stranger was crying the discomfort struck him like a physical thing. “Miss?”

And when she turned toward him, she jumped as if she’d been snuck up on. Big blue eyes bloodshot red and full of tears. She blinked a few times, her mouth falling wide open as she studied his face, not once averting her eyes. Jasper didn’t know if it was rude or just bizarre, but it wasn’t until he found himself staring back when he realized something felt strange.

Familiar, almost. But the feeling passed quickly. Jasper was certain he didn’t know this girl.

But she kept staring at him, her eyes wide and stunned, her tears still falling.

He shifted her fallen water bottle from one hand to the next before his eyes began looking elsewhere. What he was looking for, he didn’t know. An escape route, maybe? A solution to this weird problem he suddenly found himself faced with? Instead his eye fell upon the giant mural, it’s colors blossoming across the wall in huge, arching floral patterns.

In the center, a line of elaborate text: “It’s a beautiful thing to be alive.”

The words were familiar to him in a way he couldn’t quite place. And suddenly a strange feeling of dejavu fell upon him as he stared at the art. He didn’t recognize the style, and there were no tags so he had no idea who the artist was. But, staring at this art, he felt something warm within him.

When he looked back to the girl, she jumped again, finally averting her gaze as she lifted a quick hand to wipe at her tear-stained face.

“Jeez, I’m so sorry,” she sniffled before laughing awkwardly. “That was weird. I don’t know what came over me.”

“You dropped some things,” Jasper spoke, still apprehensive as the girl wiped at her face and shook her head. He gestured to the ground with the water bottle he was still holding.

“Oh, goodness,” she was on the ground then, grabbing the bag and quickly shoving items back inside. Naturally, Jasper leaned forward to help, handing her a tangled pair of headphones, a few pens, and even her wallet. “Thank you so much, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assured, feeling genuinely bad for the girl now. “It’s a little dented up,” he grimaced as she finally accepted the water bottle from him.

“It’s been like that,” she waved a dismissive hand and with the other reached out for the bottle, their fingertips brushing ever-so-lightly. Her eyes met his again, and she quickly looked away once more.

“It’s a very beautiful mural,” she spoke, the words coming out quickly as she found herself staring back toward the vibrant colors. “I just moved here and wanted to take a walk but then I got lost and then suddenly I saw this thing and I guess I was just overwhelmed and—god, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really.” He shifted slightly on his feet. “You said you were lost?”

She frowned, nodding. “I have a vague idea where I am…”

“Where are you trying to go?”

“Spring and Alpine.”

Jasper looked at her strangely then. “Well, you’re on Spring. Alpine is just a few blocks that way,” he threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing back the way he’d just come. “Right by the bus stop?”

“Yeah, by the blue building?” Jasper nodded. “Just moved into that.”

Jasper made a face as he thought to himself. As far as he knew that wasn’t a residential building, but he kept his comment to himself. “It’s not far up that way. I wouldn’t worry about finding your way home. I’d do it soon though,” he turned, surveying the nearly-empty street that gave off a misleading, quiet vibe. “The neighborhood isn’t very safe at night.”

The girl nodded, “Thanks for the heads up,” then, she sniffled again. “God, I don’t know why I’m such a wreck.”

“Are you okay?” He didn’t want to think about how weird it was, so he forced the offer out before he could truly let the impact of his idea settle. “Do you want me to walk you home, or?” Then the implication struck him, “Or I could just get you to Alpine—I don’t want to freak you out or anything. Just trying to help.”

“Um, if you could just point me in the direction, I think I’ll be able to figure it out.” She smiled up at him then, and Jasper felt suddenly like a creep for even offering. “Thank you though,” she stepped toward him, her smile softening, “I really appreciate it, really.”

Jasper cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly on his feet as he turned. “Well once you make it to the end of the block you’ll see the entrance to the highway. Then just turn left and Alpine will be up ahead. If you get to the CVS you’ve gone too far.”

“Thank you so much,” she sighed as she rearranged her bag onto her other shoulder, before peeking inside and double-checking the ground around her. Her eyes widened as she shuffled toward the curb and reached into the street, picking up a couple of discarded markers. “Whoops.”

“You got everything?” He asked, forcing himself to keep his feet planted as she wandered around, checking the ground for more of her items. He didn’t want to come off as menacing or scary to any degree, reminding himself that he was just some weird punk that had run into this normal-looking girl on the street. Anything to give off as much of a non-threatening vibe as possible. He even stepped back when she approached him again.

“This might be a bit forward, but can I see your hand?”

It was a strange request but Jasper didn’t even hesitate when he held his hand out toward her. At first, he thought she was going for a handshake—which was awkward enough—but when she grabbed his hand in her own small one, turning it palm-up, he froze when he realized she was writing something with one of her Sharpies.

“I know we don’t know the first thing about one another, but if you’re ever bored and feel like showing me the cool spots around here, that would be nice.” As she spoke she recapped her pen and tossed it into her bag, smiling brightly up at him. Then, she adjusted her bucket hat and began to walk down the street, waving happily toward him.

For several seconds Jasper stared down at his palm, the phone number (with a little fucking heart scrawled beside it) staring back at him, the ink feathering across the creases in his hand. Then, he spun toward where she was leaving. “Wait!” He called out, feeling silly. “I don’t even know your name.”

She turned as she walked, smiling back at him as she moved backwards. “I don’t know yours either!” She laughed, and when a breeze blew her dress around her slightly, the sun shining it’s golden beams to illuminate her face for him, Jasper felt his chest constrict slightly.

“It’s Jasper,” he called toward her as she moved further up the street.

“Hi Jasper,” she paused long enough to curtsy, before turning back toward her destination. “I’m Alice!” And with a lifted arm she waved toward him, her introduction apparently serving as a farewell to their encounter.

Jasper took a few moments to himself, his eyes torn between three things: Alice’s departing form, the phone number he was quickly committing to memory, and the mural that had stood watch over the entire encounter.

Turning toward it, he whispered the words out loud, “It’s a beautiful thing to be alive.” And the words, no matter how cliche and how much Jasper would’ve typically mocked such a statement, somehow resonated with him. He turned again, watching as Alice’s form disappeared as she reached the end of the street and turned, following his directions, and felt a strange sensation within his chest.

Later, after he’d sent the babysitter home but before he cooked dinner, he grabbed his siblings by the hands and escorted the two nine-year olds back the way he’d come. But the wall on spring street was mysteriously and impossibly blank. His brother and sister stomped their feet, demanding to know what the deal was, but Jasper had simply stared, confused and shocked, assuring the twins that no, he wasn’t messing with them and yes, there really had been a giant piece of art there, hardly a half hour ago.

It wasn’t until that night when the twins were in bed and he was finishing the dishes in the sink that he paused, staring down at the number that was slowly fading on his palm. He made quick word of the cleaning before sitting himself firmly in a chair, opening his phone to type a quick message.

Alice? He sent the text, feeling solidly crazy ever since the disappearance of the art. It’s Jasper.

Her reply was almost immediate and brought him a level of relief and comfort that he didn’t know was possible—he hadn’t dreamed the encounter up, she was a real person. And if that was the case, then that meant that maybe he wasn’t insane. Maybe the mural had been there. Either way, he somehow knew that it didn’t even matter. He’d met this girl, and he had a strangely good feeling about her.

You’ve kept me waiting long enough.

#jaliceweek20 #the twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #Alice cullen #jasper hale #knocked this one out in a few hours and I shockingly really like it!!#esp since I found the prompt by searching Writing Prompts on Tumblr and scrolling for hours the other night lmaoooo #either way I love the idea that even without vampires involved they can't escape some sort of supernatural means of them ending up together

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vergilthelibrarian · 4 years

Text

Muse.

Yandere!Taeyong x Male!Reader

So like tw for drugging. I got a spark of an idea and decided to write this ^^

I hope y’all like it

Taeyong stared at the canvas, sighing as he realized that he still suffered from an artist block. He scratched his head, pouting slightly. Maybe he needed to go out for some coffee, he thought to himself. He’s been locked up in his house for about 4 days now and he needed to go out. The reason why he’s been in his house for 4 days was well, because of art block.

Thinking it was a good idea to get a cup of coffee, he threw on a sweater, a pair of sneakers and headed out.

Taeyong Lee was an up and coming artist in the art scene of Seoul. He usually painted people in a multitude of scenarios and scenery. He was becoming rather popular to say the least and he had a deadline approaching for his new art exhibit. He just needed one more painted to finish his exhibit but nothing came to mind of what to paint.

Nothing.

He even searched up scenery online to get some inspiration but nada.

Taeyong was stuck and he needed to find a muse and fast.

As he walked to the cafe, he kept his eye out for anything that would spark his artistic streak. Anything that would make him want to drop everything and paint.

Seeing nothing, he gulped as he open the heavy door of the cafe, noticing how thirsty he was.

The cafe wasn’t full today, only 3 people sat at tables, one being a couple.

Taeyong walked up to the cashier and ringed the bell as no one was at the stand.

Hearing soft footsteps approaching, Taeyong’s breath hitched as he saw the most breathtaking man that, in his opinion, he has ever seen.

“Hi! How may I help you?” he asked and Taeyong blinked his eyes rapidly, his palms becoming sweaty.

“I-I uh-I” he stuttered which caused the barista to giggle.

Taeyong coughed.

“I’ll have a hot matcha green tea with a chocolate cake.”

“Will that be for here or to go?” “Here.” “Okay, coming right up!” and the man gave the black buzzer to Taeyong and then walked away to fix the order.

Taeyong grabbed the buzzer and took a sit.

He taking glances at the young foreign barista, realizing that at one point he was staring.

Taeyong always came to this cafe because the food and drinks were good but he has never saw this worker before.

He must be new here, he thought remembering that the place were hiring again.

He looked at his phone deciding to play a game instead of continuously glancing at the young worker.

A couple of minutes has passed, Taeyong felt the buzzer go off, signaling that his order was ready and he got up to get his order.

“Thank you.” he quietly said before turning around only to be stopped by a voice.

“Umm, I don’t mean to be rude but aren’t you Lee Taeyong?” He turned around, nodding his head.

“Y-yeah. How do you know that?” The barista laughed and Taeyong felt his heart skip a beat.

“Oh, well I was searching up about the art scene here in Seoul and came across your paintings on a couple of websites that conveniently also had a picture of you as well.” he answered, his cheeks heating up.

“Really now?” and the young man nodded.

“Mhm. I really like your work. It catches everyday life in a dreamy way.” and Taeyong smiled.

“Why thank you. Really. It’s always nice to get a compliment from someone as cute as you.” he blurted, cursing himself in his head.

The barista became bashful.

“I-I’m not cute.” he stuttered which caused Taeyong to shake his head.

“You’re stunning.” he responded back, an idea popping into his head.

“How about this, I’ll paint you and show you just how beautiful you are.” Taeyong had no idea where this confidence was coming from but he rolled with it mostly because in his mind he had found his muse.

“Um, o-okay.” the barista smiled shyly.

“Since you know my name, it’s only best if you tell me yours.” “I’m Y/n.”

~~ Taeyong stared at his phone.

He took deep breathes trying to gain the courage to call you over for the first day of him painting you.

He bit his bottom lip and pressed your name, hearing the ringing of the phone. You picked up after 2 rings.

“Hi Taeyong.” and said man let out the breathe he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Hey Y/n. You’re still coming over right?” “Yup! I’m putting on my shoes now.” “Okay. See you in a few.”

“Alright.” and you hung up.

Taeyong threw his phone onto the couch, sitting bedside it.

This was his last week before his deadline which was this Saturday. He needed to get a painting done now and he thought that you would be his best bet. He was stressed out but he had hope that you would make that change.

Rubbing his temples, his head whipped to the direction to the sound of knocking. Getting up, he walked to his door, opened it and smiled warmly.

“You made it!” and you giggled.

“Yeah. I got kinda lost on my way here though. I took the right train going the opposite direction but it’s all good.” you say.

Taeyong moved to the side and you took off your shoes. Once you put your shoes neatly to the side you looked around at the living room. Natural light was shinning into the space and paint splatter along with a few hand prints decorated the wall along with some classical paintings. It was very Taeyong in your opinion.

You took your book bag off and unzipped your sweater and Taeyong took them, hanging them both on the coat rack.

“Just take a sit on the couch.” he said before walking off to the canvas. You went through your book bag and took out a book.

“Is it alright if I read?” you asked and Taeyong smile.

“It’s fine.”

You took a seat on the couch and began reading your book. Taeyong started his painting, noting beautiful you looked.

~~ Taeyong had turned on some music, it was classical music but you didn’t mind.

You yawned here and there, covering your mouth when you did.

You didn’t know why you agreed to be painted by this handsome stranger but you didn’t really care either.

Just in case he turned out to be a psychopath though, you did tell your friends where you were going and who Taeyong was, some of them even making comments on how jealous they were that you were being painted by the handsome young painter.

As you read, your ears perked up and you looked up to see Taeyong getting up from his stool. He began walking to his kitchen and you, curiously, set you book marker into the book, set it down on the couch and got up to follow him.

“You’re hungry aren’t you?” he questioned and you nodded. You practically slept all day today, only waking up when it was time for you to get ready for your painting session so you didn’t ate today.

Going through his fridge, Taeyong took out some fruit.

Strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, and green grapes to be exact.

He cut up the strawberries and made you a fruit salad.

Handing you the bowl he took a grape and ate it, smiling at you once he was done chewing it.

“Thank you.” you said shyly and he chuckled.

“No problem. You’re my guest. I can’t have you starving now, can I?”

You 2 walked back to the living room and Taeyong sat beside you instead of sitting on his stool.

“I’m a bit curious about the book you’re reading. What is it?” “It’s called Tale For The Time Being.” “What’s it about?” “It’s about a girl who’s planning to take her life but before she does, she writes about her grandmother who was a Buddhist Monk. It’s really good.”

“Hmm.” he hummed.

Taeyong asked some more questions and you did the same with and before you both knew, you 2 were getting to know each other.

“Wait! You like bugs?” you asked in shock.

Taeyong laughed.

“Yeah haha! I have a beetle collection downstairs in my basement actually.” “Well, as long as you don’t have spiders, I’m good. I’m scared of spiders.” you shivered “Spiders aren’t insects though.” He told you about his pet frog to which he decided to get and show you.

“Aww~” you cooed. “He’s cute.” “His name Minho.”

The more you 2 talked, the later it got and soon it was time for you to leave which Taeyong hated. He wanted you to stay if he was being honest with himself but he had to let you leave.

“See you tomorrow at the same time?” you smiled which caused him to smile back at you.

“Yeah.

Taeyong stared at his ceiling.

Another day with you and he was ecstatic about it.

He believed in love at first sight and you were exactly that, love at first sight.

He dreamt of the 2 of you having a date, a picnic in a field of flowers.

It was the best dream he had in years but just like with any good dream was ruined by the crushing reality that he had 4 days to complete his painting.

Getting up, he went downstairs to check the painting.

He was surprised at how far he had gotten thinking that he may get down today if he was lucky.

Though that made Taeyong happy, he became slightly sad at the thought of you ditching him once he was done painting you.

A small voice in the back of his mind told him you wouldn’t do that but he couldn’t shake the fear of you leaving him forever.

You were foreign after all and though you were here in Seoul for college, you may leave and go back to your country one day and Taeyong couldn’t have that.

Running upstairs to his bedroom, he grabbed his phone and made a call.

You knock on the door, waiting patiently for Taeyong to open the door.

After a couple of seconds, the door opened and Taeyong smiled at you, saying hi and letting you in.

You repeated what you did yesterday, taking off your shoes, sweater and book bag. You took out your book and sat on the couch and began reading.

Taeyong took his spot and began painting.

Some hours passed as you read and once again you ears perked as Taeyong said, “You must be hungry. I’ll fix you something to eat.” and got up to go to the kitchen. You sat your book down but didn’t follow him this time, instead you went on your phone.

You heard footsteps a couple of minutes later and saw a bowl of fruit and a cup enter your vision.

“I gave you some orange juice since that’s all I had. I really need to go food shopping soon.” he muttered, taking a seat next to you.

You ate some fruit and took a sip of your drank.

“Sooo, you’re scared of spiders?” Taeyong brought up and you nodded.

“Yeah. I have a serious fear of them. I can kill the smaller guys with no problem but the bigger ones.” you shuttered. “Like tarantulas scare me!”

“Hmm.” he hummed. “I don’t think it’s right to kill them. They’re living creatures after all.” “But they creep me out! Seriously, I can’t even look up pictures of spiders without it freaking me out!” and Taeyong nodded.

“I get it. But who knows… Maybe you’ll get over your fear soon...” “Oh, I hope so. I’m tired of being scared of things that are actually afraid of me! It’s a bit silly when you think about it.” You took another sip of the orange juice.

“Are you done yet?” “Pretty much. Wanna see?”

“Of course!” you responded excitedly but for some reason, you were beginning to feel tired.

Getting up, you 2 walked over to the painting and the you gasped.

The painting was of you reading and though it was a simple painting, it was beautiful. Every little detail of you he got into the painting and your eyes welled up a bit.

Let’s just say you were a very happy customer.

“I… Taeyong wow… And in only 2 days? How?” “You’re my muse.” he answered and suddenly you were hit with a wave of grogginess.

“I-I need to sit down.” you said, stumbling over to the couch and sitting down.

You’re breathing became shallow and your eyes began to flutter and soon you were passed out.

Taeyong stared at your unconscious body and it laid on the floor, his eyes drinking in your figure.

He had tied you up in the basement of his house which thankfully, was sound proof.

He yawned a bit as he continue to stare at you.

He didn’t really think this through but was glad that he did it anyway.

Yes, you didn’t know each other well, but he knew that his feelings were real. He was in love and you were simply going to have to deal with it.

Once you began waking up, you blinked a couple of times, the light of the basement blinding your vision a bit.

As soon as you could see though, you met the brown eyes of Taeyong and when you tried to speak, your mouth was taped shut.

You tried to move but noticed that your body had been tied up.

Beginning to panic, you thrashed around only for Taeyong to stop you.

“Stop struggling Y/n. It’s no use really.”

You’re breathing became hard and quick.

“You know, even though I was popular with girls growing up, I always felt alone. Have you felt that way Y/n?” Your muffled cry filled the air as tears began forming in your eyes.

“I always wanted someone to love. Someone to love me, someone to heal me… I’m so broken Y/n, that’s why I paint.”

Taeyong crawled over to your body and grabbed your face, staring deep into your eyes, his head tilted.

“You… you bring light to my dull life and I can’t let you leave, no. I can’t.” he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. “My friend Jaehyun gave me the drug that I spiked your drank with. I should thank him later...”

He let go of your head, gently placing it back onto the floor and got up.

He went to the back of the basement and opened a box that was on the floor. He picked up whatever it was, turned around and your eyes widen.

It was a goddamn tarantula.

You began panicking once more.

“That’s it. That’s what I want to see. Fear. I want to see the fear in your eyes. And I want to paint it.” He looked at the spider. “You’re probably wondering why I’m doing this. I’ll tell you. 1. I’m in love with you and 2.” he looked at you, his eyes holding an unreadable emotion. “You are my muse.”

#aw snap here's some more yandere taeyong #taeyong x you #taeyong x reader #taeyong x male reader #lee taeyong x reader #lee taeyong x you #lee taeyong x male reader #yandere taeyong #yandere nct #yandere kpop #nct yandere #taeyong yandere

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jenner-benjamin · 3 years

Text

SURREALISTS STUCK AT HOME: Writing and Drawing Lockdown

This is the second online workshop I have attended by London Drawing Group, this time hosted by artist Luisa-Maria MacCormack and writer Philip Webb Gregg. I cannot commend London Drawing Group highly enough. The workshops they offer are engaging, insightful and incredibly well researched and presented. From my experience they have been ‘pay what you can’, which when times are financially uncertain is a fantastic option.

In the last couple of months I have found myself in isolation twice, as per the government guidelines for coming in to contact with someone who has tested positive for coronavirus. It is a strange period of time where you are led to feel as though you have been given a golden opportunity to create artworks and be productive, but this time does not necessarily lend itself to positive thinking or inspired creativity. This has led to a period of self doubt and a general feeling of demotivation.

I have found solace in virtual courses, workshops and activities that have given me a feeling of artificial normality and some routine to long stretches of disorganised and unstructured days.

This Surrealist workshop caught my eye because it incorporated writing alongside drawing and I felt it might inspire some visual poetry. We were instructed to have prepared a body of text in which we would be defacing, which reminded me of the Dadaist poetry that I had considered in the last module.

The introduction stated that Surrealism was described as being a reaction against the ridiculousness of the world. I felt this sentiment resonated with most participants. A series of rapid challenges were thrust upon us in quick succession that did not allow for us to sit and contemplate too much about the work we were making, but to accept and enjoy the creative chaos that ensued.

The tasks that we were asked to participate in were selected from the Surrealist Book of Games. In all honesty the games we took part in were not revolutionary tasks that I had not come across before, but did stimulate a response from the part of me that had been struggling to feel free with my creative outlets. I have felt very despondent of late, and forcing work that does not want to be forced. These tasks encouraged expression and amusement. I have since bought the Surrealist Book of Games for myself for times when I feel creatively disorientated.

Below are examples of the drawings and written works that came from the workshop, some were more successful than others, but all were important reminders to not expect too much of yourself in a strange and unsettling time such as the one we find ourselves in. Being encouraged to seek out words and images in this hour also led to a newfound appreciation for the space around us in lockdown, encouraging us to not merely exist in the space but to live in it.

Ephemeral Poem - a game in which you explore your home environment searching for misplaced words in order to create a collaged poem. We had two minutes to search for words or phrases, and then two words to compose a poem.

Shake, and create your own universe,

Enjoy!

Love, distilled and bottled.

Found Drawing - a game in which you explore the home environment searching for misplaced imagery in order to create a collaged drawing which will reflect the experience of your environment. Each item was given a different time limit, some were as short as 5 seconds, some as long as 30 seconds.

Text as art - select a body of text and cut up words or phrases, not reading the words beforehand. We had four minutes to cut up the text, and then four minutes to compose a poem.

we’re gonna do tonight

outside on the street

we’ve got it all planned,

laughing and feeling good

he was the funniest

Decalcomania - also know as ‘blackout poetry’. Take a page of text and ruthlessly erase big bodies of writing with a black marker pen, trying not to read the text beforehand.

at any moment

freedom and absolute freedom.

I myself was not a lovely little poem

for this one rare full moon.

Involuntary Sculpture - take a page of text and screw it up into a sculpture, studying the sculpture and composing a poem with the words that you can find.

Your Spot - a series of 4x three minute drawings from a place that you find yourself drawn to in lockdown. The drawings must sit on one sheet of paper, either on top of each other or as a panoramic study.

Automatic Writing - allowing yourself to be completely honest with what feelings or thoughts arise in response to a specific image. In this case, we responded to ‘The Therapist’ by René Magritte and subsequently ‘Notes for an Apocalypse’ by Dorothea Tanning.

I can’t support myself. I’m tired, and hiding, and tired. I want to leave, but I'm trapped in my outside inside. Clutching, not holding. Red, white and blue, but not in a freedom way. Two birds in the cage is worth how many in the hand? How many in the bag?

‘The Therapist’ by René Magritte, 1937 - oil on canvas.

I don’t understand what it is I'm experiencing. A tablecloth that is a cloud, but not. And how many limbs? And a green goblin? Stuff of nightmares with a fireball halo. Confusion, uncertainty and a fireball halo in a moody grey sky.

‘Notes for an Apocalypse’ by Dorothea Tanning, 1978 - oil on canvas.

As a closing task for the workshop we we asked to select elements from both artworks and create a new surrealist piece in response to these. The drawing I ended up creating was made while not looking at the page, fully embracing the surrealist weirdness of what happens when you relinquish control of the drawing to pure intuition.

#practice #londondrawinggroup #surrealism #surrealist #dadaism #dadaist #abstract #abstractart #COVID-19 #coronavirus #lockdown #workshop #printmaking #masters #mamdp

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samwritesforyou · 4 years

Text

ARMY ZIP drabbles

JOURNEY

you and joon have been pretty close friends since you first came to this new highschool. your family has been moving around a lot, so you never stayed long in any schools, until this one.

your mom eventually got to know namjoon’s mother and they became friends as well.

there were always some activities for your class, and one day it was a trip for the whole day, where teachers took all of you to the place that was very similar to some kind of jungle.

it was no surprise to find this type of surroundings in australia, so nobody was really super stoked by it.

but the exciting part was, that your main partner for the day was joon, and together you’d get lost, just enjoying each other’s company.

to avoid punishment, joon took the situation under his control and called the teacher in charge, bluntly lying about the fact that you two have gone home already. you two didn’t mind spending more time together, especially in this beautiful scenery.

after all you’d find your way out of there and joon would walk you home from the bus station, because it already got dark, and he would give you his grey jacket, because you said under your breath a silent, “how much colder can it be..”

your mom was waiting for you on the porch already - pretty mad - and joon took all the blame on himself, apologising and saying that you two got lost because of him.. she actually forgave the both of you and even invited joon to stay for a cup of tea.

the whole time beside the dinner table you couldn’t take your eyes off him, and he did the same, captivating your eyes with his..

in the hall you were just simply talking about how much fun the whole day was and you both ended up in a warm hug towards the end of your conversation.

since you’re both still underage, your mom makes a firm statement that she will drive namjoon to his own home and as you waved him goodbye you were smiling, because.. damn, he forgot to take his jacket back from you. and you couldn’t help yourself but realise that it smelled just exactly like him.. like home.

PERFECT

yoongi was this perfect friend. you didn’t know him for too long, but it didn’t matter. your personalities clicked and you started to spend a lot of time together.

he was the best baseball player in the whole school and you were fortunate enough to always be by his side, whenever some victory happened.

but what you missed on - in the early stages of your friendship - were the losses, the bad things that happened.

one day you were just passing by the slightly opened door of the changing rooms, when you heard a slight whimper.

you immediately stopped and carefully peeked through the crack, trying to inspect who’s inside.

you saw light hair and a small posture, crouched on the floor near the lockers, shuddering their shoulders, with arms wrapped around their knees, as they desperately tried to hide the sounds that sometimes escaped their lips.

it didn’t take you long to realise who it was..

“yoongi?..” you called, softly, opening the door further and making your way inside.

“i fucked it up.. i fucked it all up,” was all he said, burying his head even tighter to his knees.

so he wasn’t perfect, after all, huh? everyone kept painting yoongi as this cold and professional kid, but they just never got to see the more emotional and vulnerable side of him.

perhaps he didn’t let them see it.

didn’t want them to see it.

but he let you. and when you dropped down on the floor next to him, consoling him and patting his hair, he let you.

when you leaned towards him, he started to cry even harder, letting his emotions out, and finally felt how it was to be truly supported by someone.

that’s what true friends do, right? being here for each other in good and bad times.

ZOMBIE

it was the end of it all. the world has gone insane since last week, when a massive zombie virus broke out... somehow.. to the whole world.

Nobody knows exactly what or how it happened, but even though everyone was fairly “educated” on the apocalypse matter from all the movies and books, loads of people were still getting turned on a daily basis.

in other words, it was terrifying, and not as adventurous as in the fiction.

you were fortunate enough to find yourself, after days on the road, in the abandoned house, still filled with some leftover foods around.

you just did your evening routine and came back to your “room”, where you stood by a small window, looking out and trying to concentrate your attention on the lightest of sounds.

and you finally heard it. a zombie was approaching from the hallway, their grunting clear as day for your careful hearing.

you had no weapon, no help around..

you didn’t know exactly what was your plan, but.. something will have to do.

you grabbed the nearest brick into your palm and squeezed hard, getting nervous.

the undead person already came into the view, feeling your presence and moving in your direction.

when there were only a few meters between the two of you, the gunshot blazed through the air.

the body fell to the floor and you saw a man standing in the hallway, rifle in his strong hands.

“hey.. you okay?” a man said, fixing his freshly dyed purple hair.

“yeah..”

“good. i think you could use a friend in this apocalypse,” a man smirked and gave you a bag with some food, by this making a peace pact between you.

STREET

hoseok was an international student from korea, who was studying art and dancing majors.

you were friends for some time already, but both of you never had time to actually hang out outside of the school grounds.

you were into filmmaking and your study hours were crazy, to say the least.

but finally, summer holidays were approaching. you didn’t make any plans, because most of your friends went travelling, and your buddies from the dorms were supposed to leave to go back to their lovely families.. you just didn’t have that.

one of the final days of the semester before the big break, you were just wandering around the campus, finally having nothing to do, after months of hard work..

and suddenly your phone rang. it startled you, on the screen showing “hoseok” with his number underneath it.

you picked it up, of course.

“hey, are you in town?” you heard an exciting tone on the other end.

“yes, actually..”

“wanna hang out? come to that park near the school, in 20 minutes?”

and it was settled. when you dragged your ass over there, you came perfectly on time and hoseok was already waiting for you, sitting on top of the many big cans that were laying around here.

he simply handed you the graffiti colour. you couldn’t help yourself but to make a surprised expression, but took the paint anyways.

“let’s create something!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and started to dance around, filling the walls with some slogans and pictures of all sorts.

he noticed you hesitating at first, and gently put his elegant hand on your back.

“heyy, don’t be afraid, it’s my first time with this kind of medium too! i just figured we could do something for the first time together and not worry about the result that much, most important thing is just having fun, isnt it?” he smiled at you warmly, and you just couldn’t help it and put your arm towards the wall, spraying his name on it.

YOUNG

it was one of those days, when everything seems quiet, slow and kind of lazy.. it was just another weekend in your small city, far far away from all the excitement of the bigger metropolis.

you were fortunate enough to meet one of the closest people in your life here, though.

you came over to jimin’s place, as you have previously agreed on.

he made you some tea. kettle boiled in the silence of his apartment and you smiled at each other, when he picked your favourite kind.

you knew each other well. and jimin knew even better about your current struggles, as of the problem that you’re trying to become a tattoo artist, but it wasn’t quite working out yet.

he was always trying to help and make things better.

so when you ended up in his room, he took out a marker from his pencil-case and showed it to you, excitedly.

“what should i do with it?” you chuckled, but sadness still prevailed on your face.

“draw on me,” he simply said and put the tool firmly into your hand, “imagine i’m the canvas and you’re about to ink my skin.”

“okay..” it seemed a little weird and embarrassing at first, but after a while you both got fully into it and your passion literally blossomed in front of his eyes and reflected there as beautiful sparkles.

“youth?..” he asked, looking at his arm, with a genuine warm smile.

“youth. let’s never forget about this. when we’re still young, you know?” you smiled and then jimin started laughing with his angelic voice.

“i like it! write more, please..”

you ended up writing things like “i me”, “happy song :)” and a big “nevermind” in some really rough, but pretty font on his ribs.

“i really like this one..” jimin said, truly amazed.

and a few years later, after you’ve finally made it out of the small town and owned your own tattoo studio, jimin came with a request of nevermind on his ribs.

MAFIA

it was really risky to try and accomplish this mission and you knew it.

there were literally myths and stories going around this mafia, especially their leader.

nobody never described how he looked, just that he was ruthless and never spared their enemies.

all the other heads of gangs had exceptions for some people, but not him.

and when you were caught, illegally transporting some dangerous.. “items” by one of his people, you were immediately captured. this wasn’t supposed to happen and now you knew your fate.

you were held hostage for some days, but now you’re finally on the way to meet the master head behind all of this.

you were pushed into this luxurious room, doors closing loudly behind you. but it was empty..

after the uncomfortable silence the backdoor of this strange place opened and you saw him come in.

his expression was grim and intimidating, but changed in a heartbeat when your eyes met.

“taehyung?..” your voice cracked in between the pronunciation of his name and you were just.. astounded.

you were close friends until last two years, because you suddenly lost contact with each other.

“are you okay?” he immediately rushed to you, uncuffed your hands and wrapped you in a warm hug, dropping his stern facade this instant. in that second all your memories from when you were younger and just having fun together popped up in your head and you couldn’t help but only hug him tighter.

when you pulled away after a while, you cupped his cheeks with your hands and stared into his eyes, “how the fuck did you get into all of this mess?”

you just wanted him to stay this innocent and pure boy you always knew..

“i should ask you the same thing then,” he frowned his brows and pouted.

“i guess we’ll have to figure it out somehow..” you turned your head towards the doors, that slowly clicked as someone was clearly ears dropping you.

“now it’s only you and me, partner.”

MESSENGER

you were just an ice cream truck worker, giving out yet another frozen treat to a happy family in front of your face. ugh. you didn’t like your job one bit. but what can you do in summer, when you don’t have enough money from your usual income like drawing or writing articles, right? next second you look up from your phone and another customer is standing there. “can i get some ice, please? just ice,” he says firmly and tries to keep up a smile, but it breaks a few times, because the man looks genuinely injured on the side of his head. “are you sure? you should call a doctor for that-“ you can’t even finish your sentence when he just pulls his hand into the ice-cubes container himself and pushes it against his temple, part of the ice melting and some of it falling down. suddenly he’s checking his phone and then frantically looks around, not loosing his cool image. then his eyes dart back at you and he says, “do you think i can hide behind the truck? you’d still stand there so its not suspicious that the truck is here by itself?” he really seemed to be in a hurry, so you just nodded your head yes and he was already crouching next to you, in a still position. soon a group of bulky men appeared, coming to you and asking if you havent seen a younger guy with longer brown hair, tattoos and piercings. you have, and he has been hiding just next to your legs. “no, i’m sorry,” you said with an innocent smile and eventually they went away. when the air was clear, the man finally stepped away and most adorable smile appeared on his face. he was holding a small transparent package, full of white crystals. from all the happiness he kissed the package and then patted you a little awkwardly on the shoulder. “thank you so much for covering me. i’m jeongguk, by the way,” he stretched his tattooed arm towards you and you shook hands. “can i get an ice cream now?” he said, a little bit embarrassed, as he stood in front of the truck now, like a normal customer.

#namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts army zip #army zip #army zip 2020 #bts drabble

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saturdayxiii · 3 years

Photo

Yesterday at work, I had an inspiration to do a quick portrait from a photo reference, so I did. I used a black, fat, chisel marker on a panel of cardboard and it took about 5 minutes. The results weren’t great, but if you looked at the reference I think you could tell what I was going for. I was encouraged by this. I love the idea of being able to do portraits or capture images in the moment and bust out a recreation in a few minutes. So I decided to do some more practicing when I got home that evening.

Why did it go so horribly?

These pictures are my practice and while the one I half-assed at work wasn’t great, these ones are off the chart bad. I don’t know what exactly I need to fix in my approach to even get on the right path, but needed to post my thoughts about the experience. Maybe in hopes that that will be the trigger that helps me get better and leave these scraps behind, even though I don’t know how to improve even if I could be confident that I’d properly assessed my weaknesses. I mean, that’s why I did these sketches, because I thought I knew what areas to focus on, and it took me a huge step backwards.

What irritates me the most, is how none of the sketches even have the aura of their subjects. There’s a hint here or there, but nothing like “yah, the art’s not tight, but that is definitely that person”, and that’s really what I want to accomplish the most.

Here’s my individual notes:

1. I started digital because I really love the idea of having my one device that I take with me everywhere and do everything with. I’ve been pushing myself to prioritize digital art for about 6 years now, even though I was always familiar with digital coloring/touch ups, but the weaknesses really glare here. Accuracy is huge, as it’s next to impossible to get the lines that I want digitally. It’s always sketch, undo, sketch, undo, sketch, undo, and then when I get sick of that it’s sketch sketch sketch, new layer, slow trace, undo, slow trace. A lot of people understand this to be the nature of digital art, and I don’t 100% buy into that, but none the less it’s what I’m contending with. I didn’t really concentrate on going slow, and I think that’s something I really need to consciously aim for, but right here that defeats the purpose of doing fast portraits. I want to feel good and natural when drawing, so I decided to switch back to analogue art.

2. No. Stop. No matter what, I have a ridiculous number of false starts. Just trying to coordinate my brain with the medium I guess. Warm up exercises would probably help, but it also seems like a waste of resources if I happen to get lucky and make something reasonable on my first try.

3. Skew. I always skew. I’m well aware of my inability to do symmetry, and I try really hard to correct this when drawing. I’ve been addressing this for years, and it hasn’t gotten any better. This handicap is laid bare when I can’t start with a rough sketch. I am trying to measure and compare proportions, but they still skew as I go. I guess I really need to get my hand off the page, stop and check my work. But when I don’t have an initial sketch, and that’s the point of this exercise, what am I checking? The lines that don’t exist are in my head, and they don’t end up on the paper in the same spots. I have to work with the mistakes I’ve made no matter what.

4. The features in this one are just so off. I can’t even. I had been marking points where I thought stuff should go, before drawing lines to connect them. Not only is everything still completely inaccurate, but the picture just looks so dead. It’s a corpse of a face that no one’s ever seen before.

5. So I bailed on pre mapping and went the n00b route of starting with individual features. Of course the eyes are where I feel most comfortable. I probably am most happy with this portrait, but it’s such a step back from every tutorial that I’ve been getting help from these days. I wish this was my starting point of my drawing exercise. I might be able to continue from this approach, but I need to get comfortable with a better starting point as this brings the usual issue of not being able to keep my drawing on the page. I know Davinci started with the ear, but that’s a little too around the bend for me. Maybe I can try starting from the cheek to the forehead or something to help me work on features while still having a better overview of my total size... maybe.

6. This one is wrong, but like the last one it doesn’t upset me. It was especially frustrating as I had the hair framing the face, then in full awareness but no ability to stop I watched myself draw the right eye too close to the hair, then the left eye too far away, despite having some pretty easy markers to work with. Speaking of markers, I switched to a traditional sharpie pen for this one. I had been using a dip pen. I think I need to hunt down a chisel tip marker like at work as that seems to be best of both worlds. Especially as my medium at work was pretty large, maybe about the size of legal paper, while everything I worked with at home was no larger than 6 inches.

Hopefully this word vomit cleanses me, or something. Though why would it? I don’t think my art has improved for the last 15 years. I have a couple helpful techniques for digital art, but nothing that applies in this exercise. I can’t even pin point anything I did right in these sketches. Like, nothing that’s says “that’s good, keep doing that.” It’s just, throw it all away and start at square zero again. At least I got some new teases, like, maybe try a chisel marker on a full canvas, find a way to fake a sketch that will let me test proportions before final lines, and looking at the thumbnails of my work is even helping me pick out better shapes in my subjects that I wish I noticed the first time.

*sigh*, maybe at some decade in my life I’ll be able to do consistent work of an adequate quality, or at least perhaps the false hope will keep me from falling into complete anhedonia. Maybe.

#art #thoughts #sketches #portrait #sketch #art practice #poor quality #self pity #ink

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shekissesturians · 4 years

Text

~Sun Showers ~ Mirio x Fem!Reader/Oc (Chapter 1)

Synopsis~ Quirks are as much a blessing as they are a curse.

This is the reality Toogata Mirio is confronted with upon interning with Nighteye Agency. It is hard to create a program that can counsel all the different varieties of abilities that can manifest in a quirk. Most follow a basic formula that is easy to adapt and control... while others fall through the crack with a quirk that does not fit into counseling parameters.

When Mirio responds to a flyer that is seeking help for a final art project, he encounters a girl who clearly is one the few who has fallen through the cracks. The more he gets to know her the more he learns how unstable her quirk is.If she doesn't gain control, he fears that she might become one of the many who become another problem in the system. A statistic that is "treated" and lost.

He can't let that happen.

He won't let her fall. ~

Chapter 1- 3,520 words - Ao3 link

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Wanted to post a full version on Tumblr as it might be easier for some to read. Hope you enjoy <3

* * *

Mirio thoughtfully thumbed the green flyer in his hand as he looked around himself trying to gain somewhat of a handle on his surroundings. The one thing he knew was that he was currently at Tsukuru High School…. And that was the current extent of his knowledge. Currently, he was in decent sized courtyard that had a strip of grass planted down the center with benches dashed along on either side. Around the courtyard was a string of tan doors situated under white awnings, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out where their room markers were. This school wasn’t nearly as big as U.A. so he had figured it would be no problem finding the room mentioned on the flyer! Alas… he was gravely mistaken.

Mirio quickly brought the flier back up to his face reading it over for a third time now-

~Wanted ~

Nude models for final art project.

3 session commitment.

Will compensate time with a paid in full dinner.

This is professional - I really need to pass my class.

I promise it will be a good dinner!

If interested meetup time is from 3pm-5pm at classroom B32a at Tsukuru High School.

I will be there every day, please consider!!

Please!!

- 3rd year, Ueno Yua

He had discovered the flier while patrolling with Bubble Girl and knew immediately he needed to help out a fellow student in need! Especially after they asked so kindly, and he would get free dinner out of it which was an especially nice bonus!

It all worked out perfectly, Sir Nighteye had him doing patrols from 11am till 1pm, then a check in from 1pm till 2pm, which would give him more than enough time to get across town to Tsukuru High within the time stated on the flier! Unless he got horribly lost… which he did- because for some reason this school decided not to mark their classrooms!

Mirio released a deep sigh just as he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He froze, glancing over his shoulder to see a pair of big grey eyes looking up at him from underneath deep cyan hued bangs.

“Excuse me? Are you lost?” The girl’s voice was gentle and soft, so soft it took Mirio a second to hear what she had said, “ Um, pardon? Are you lost?” She repeated a second time a bit louder when she realized he couldn’t hear her.

“Oh!” He brightened into a smile, finally pulling the flier away from his face, “I am lost, how’d ya know!?”

The girl, who appeared to be around his age, pointed to his uniform. Mirio’s gaze followed her finger to where it was pointing inches away from his chest.

“We have different uniforms.” She stated politely, but very matter of fact.

He looked back and forth between the two of them, quickly noticing the differences. While his uniform was the standard U.A. green and white, this girls’ was white with a red and blue plaid on her short skirt and tie.

Mirio released a quick laugh, “ Yeah I guess that is an easy tell, isn’t it?” He looked back over to her and held out the flier for her to see, “ I’m here because of this flier. I am looking for room B32a, do you know where that is?”

The girl blinked as the flier was thrusted in her direction. She looked over it briefly before her eyes widened and a huge smile spread across her face.

“That’s me!” She suddenly pressed her hands together in a cheer. Her voice still soft but now filled with excitement, “That’s my flier!”

“Wait, this is your flier!?” Mirio couldn’t help but smile along with the girl’s new infections excitement. It was a complete switch from the quiet demeanor she had displayed just moments ago. Now she was bouncing in place, her short hair bobbing on her shoulders, while she practically glowed from ear to ear.

… It was pretty cute.

“Yes! I’m Ueno Yua!” She quickly grabbed his hand, pulling him into an overly excited handshake.

Mirio laughed, “I’m Toogata Mirio, nice to meet you, Ueno!”

“Oh, thank you so much for coming!” She quickly turned, shifting her grip to pull him towards a nearby room, “B32a is right over here!”

Mirio stumbled behind her as she practically dragged him under the awning pathway that lined all the classroom entrances. It wasn’t until he was underneath that he finally spotted the classroom numbers above the door.

They were there the whole time!?

Jeesh.

“You can’t see the numbers if you aren’t under the pathway.” Yua pointed above the door. She looked back at Mirio to see defeated realization etched across his face.

Her smile instantly sunk with concern, “Ah…I should have wrote it in the flier! Maybe that’s why others haven’t shown up…”

“You mean, you haven’t gotten any other models?” Mirio straightened his posture as she released his hand to pull an ID card out of her skirt pocket.

“You’re the first.” Yua pressed the card to a black reader pad next to the classroom door. With a light click, the door was pulled open and instantly the smells of solvents and paints waft out of the room.

Mirio was instantly consumed with curiosity as he entered. It was nothing like any classroom he had seen before! There was a whimsical chaotic-ness to the room. Wood easels were spewed about with no real organization in mind. Some held canvas’, some did not, but all of them were spattered in an array of paint stains which gave each easel its own unique character.

Behind the forest of easels, on the far back wall, was a large metal trough sink. The counter space surrounding it was piled with different sized cups and containers. Mirio grinned as he continued to take in the room. While the classroom was colored in grey and white tones it was the aftermath paint splatters and spills across the floor and even the walls that gave the classroom its warmth and color.

While Mirio explored the room further, Yua walked over to her easel that was set up near the center of the room and began to prep her station.

“Thank you again by the way,” She spoke out to Mirio. He paused in his current exploration of a large shelved wall that house nearly every color of paint one could imagine. “- for coming to model. You saved me, I would have failed my project.”

He grinned back rubbing a finger under his nose.“Well, that is what heroes do!”

Yua curiously tilted her head as she fiddled with some of the paints on the small table next to her easel, “Oh! You’re a hero?”

“Well, working on it.” Mirio made his way back towards her, “I go to U.A.”

“Really!? Wow, you must be something then!” Yua excitedly squeezed the brushes in her hands tighter, “I get to capture a future Pro- hero in my painting!? It really is my lucky day!”

Her actions caused him to chuckle, she was definitely an easily excited person.

Now Yua’s attention wasn’t even on him anymore. She was looking up towards the ceiling completely encapsulated by her thoughts, whatever they might be.

Mirio had a hunch though.

He could see it, the passion she had about her work. It made him even more pleased that he decided to answer the flier. It wasn’t what one would consider “normal” hero work but he was helping someone in need so it definitely counted in his book! As a bonus, she seemed to be really nice as well.

“Okay.” Yua finally breathed out seeming to gather her thoughts just as Mirio reached the painting station she had created around her easel, “I know exactly what I want now.”

She sat down her brushes before walking towards the center of the room. Yua turned motioning for Mirio to follow her as stepped up onto a raised platform that was draped with a thick red sheet.

“So you will be posed here,” She gestured beside herself, “ - and If you could go ahead and get undress I will adjust the lighting.” Again her eyes drifting to the ceiling in thought while she chewed lightly on her bottom lip, “I was thinking about a kneeling pose.”

Mirio watched as Yua knelt down on the platform resting on her right knee while her left leg stayed up in a bent position.

“Like this!” Yua guided, “Oh I will need to get you a cushion for your knee…” She noted feeling the pressure of her own on the hard surface, “- but then I’ll have you lean over your leg and look to the ground.”

Mirio nodded, studying her examples carefully, “I can definitely do that!”

“Wonderful!” She popped back up to her feet with a smile. Once again she pressed the palms of her hands together happily, “I have a cushion over here we can put under your knee once you cha-”

Yua’s voice froze she turned to see Mirio instantly phase out of his entire school uniform,

“What happened to your clothes!?” She quickly rubbed her eyes with her fists making sure she had just correctly seen a man permeate through clothing.

“Oh that’s just my quirk. Pretty nifty huh??” Mirio stepped away from his clothes with a smile, “So you just want me over here?” He stepped up onto the platform.

Yua stared at him with unwavering eyes as he stepped up next to her. She had figured he was in shape being at U.A. and all but she never imagined him being in that good of shape. His physique completely through her off guard, but in a great way, this was better than anything she could have hoped for!

Mirio could feel her gaze carefully trailing over his form, examining him with what he could only describe as… inquisitive intrigue. Still, when her bottom lip was captured between her teeth as she slipped into another bout of deep thought, he couldn’t help the tint that rose to his cheeks.

She was really too cute to be making a face like that while he stood next to her naked!

“...You really work out huh?” Yua finally released her lip.

Mirio couldn’t help the snort of a laugh that escaped him, “Oh you know, on occasion.” He teased.

His voice seemed to snap Yua out of her daze as she quickly covered her mouth with her hands. A mortified wave of emotion washed over her features upon the realization she had just been staring at him in the most unprofessional way possible.

“Sorry!” She quickly bowed, hoping that she had not made him too uncomfortable…. That was until she realized she was now face to face with his crotch.

Yua’s eyes widened in absolute horror, “Sorry again!!” She squeaked, immediately covering her hands over her eyes and tripping over her feet as she tried to turn away from him.

“It’s okay!! It’s okay!!” Mirio kept repeating. He slapped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to conceal his laughter and not embarrass the poor girl even more, but the series of antics that had just unfolded was too much.

While Yua squatted down into a ball rambling of apologies, Mirio suddenly felt himself begin to sweat as an intense wave of heat hit the room.

“It’s alright Ueno! No worries!!” He tried to reassure her as his laughter finally calmed.

The shroud of heat that suddenly encompassed the classroom was now thickening the air like a sauna.

“Ueno, I’m sorry, but do you feel like it got really hot in here all of the sudden??” Large beads of sweat were now accumulating his skin. This wasn’t in his head, the temperature definitely changed in the room.

As soon as the words left his mouth Yua’s string of apologies halted. She removed her hands from over her eyes, lifting up her palms to take in the new sensation around them.

“… It’s me.” Yua’s voice softened as she returned her hands to cover her face, the red tint on her cheeks deepening.

“Pardon?” Mirio leaned down trying to hear her better. She was talking softly again and he could barely hear her. His hands fanned his face furiously as he waited for her response, it was getting hotter by the second!

“My quirk!” Yua forced her voice to speak up, “It’s … it’s because I’m embarrassed.” She slapped her face a few times with the palms of her hands in an attempt to knock out the embarrassment.

At her words, a light suddenly clicked on in Mirio’s head, everything made complete sense now!

“You don’t need to be embarrassed Ueno!” He quickly jumped into a crouch in front of her, “I’m the one that's naked, I should be embarrassed!”

“No, no.” She shook her head and began to pinch her own cheeks, “ You’re the model, I’m supposed to make you feel comfortable, but I just bowed my head into your crotch!”

There was a warm haze to everything in the room now. The temperature was getting close to unbearable. It quickly became obvious to Mirio that Yua did not have very good control of her quirk…. If any at all.

“You’re not the first person to get up close and personal with my willy, I’m used to it!” He tried to brush off her concern, until he saw her eyes widen through her fingers, “ Wait… that didn’t come out right.”

A sudden spike in heat forced Mirio to cringe. He could barely breathe at this point, it felt as though he was about to burn alive, but he couldn’t just run out and leave her alone. He had to think of a way to help her. He was a hero, he could do this!

“So get this,” Mirio forced up a smile, steam was now beginning to swirl around them. He had to work quickly, “I tell dad jokes, but I don't have any kids…. Guess that makes me a faux pa.”

Yua peaked up at him through her fingers to see the huge grin he was holding even though his face was turning beet red from the heat.

“So when does a joke become a dad joke?” Mirio paused for a beat, “….When it becomes apparent!”

Yua couldn’t contain the smile that broke through the cover of her hands as he continued.

It was working! Mirio could feel the heaviness of heat in the room begin to dissipate along with the swirls of steam. Now he just had to land the big finisher!

“Did you know… your Japanese when you go into the bathroom, and you’re Japanese when you come out of the bathroom, but do you know what you are while you’re in there?” He raised a brow in Yua’s direction with a pause making sure he had her full attention, “European!”

At his last word, Yua’s laughter broke into the room instantly causing the wave of intense heat to dissipate.

Mirio couldn’t contain the deep sigh he released at the sudden temperature change. He felt like he could breathe again! His chest rose and fell with each breath as he began to cool down. Sweat was dripping down his face but he couldn’t help but genuinely smile as he watched Yua laugh.

It was a deep laugh, a hearty laugh… a nice laugh.

“Those... were horrible.” Yua’s laughter slowed into a chuckle before she flashed Mirio a grateful smile.

“Hey now!” He tried to wipe the sweat that was still dripping into his eyes away with his forearm, “You laughed. You thought they were funny!”

“They were funny and horrible.” She locked her eyes with his, “Thank you, Toogata.”

“Any time!” Mirio straightened his posture, “Though I’m sorry, I’m so sweaty now.” He looked down at himself, he was literally drenched in a sheen of sweat.

“No, no,” Yua looked over his form with him, “This is actually perfect, don’t wipe any off! It’s defining your physique, and with the right lighting you’ll be even better to paint now!” An excited glow was back on her features.

Mirio smiled as he watched her quickly rush about - grabbing a pillow, adjusting the standing lights around the platform, and situating the red sheet across the pedestal to her liking. She was back to being passionate and focused as though they both weren’t just nearly baked alive.

He could tell though, this probably wasn’t the first time an incident like this occurred. Though her overall disposition was bright there was a lingering sullenness in her eyes he just couldn’t shake concern for.

Once Mirio was in the position Yua wanted, she quickly skipped over to her easel and got right into laying paint down onto the canvas.

“So if you don’t mind me asking, what is your quirk? Cus honestly that was pretty crazy!” He tried to speak as upbeat as possible, he was so curious but hated to trigger another occurrence.

“Oh….” Yua responded, slowing in her painting a bit as she thought through how to answer his question.

“- And I mean crazy in a good way!” Mirio quickly added, turning his head towards her so she could see his smile.

“It’s weather.” Yua spoke up after finishing a few strokes on the canvas, “It’s triggered by my emotions, so… I have a hard time controlling it….”

“That’s pretty sweet though!” Mirio chimed in making sure she wouldn’t have a chance to feel negative. He could tell from the way her voice was softening it wasn’t something she was necessarily comfortable talking about, “ So you could make it rain, or snow, or anything like that?”

Yua couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips from the enthusiasm of Mirio’s questions. She found the positivity over her quirk pretty refreshing.

“I can.” She answered, splitting her attention between him and the canvas in front of her.

“So which emotion would make it snow?” Mirio thoughtfully inquired, “That would be awesome for on a hot summer day!”

Yua paused from her painting to study Mirio for a moment, she had never thought about her quirk in such a way before,

“… I don’t know,” She went back to her work, shading in the contours of his back, “It’s often rather random, …many times I don’t even realize it's me right away… Honestly, I try to avoid triggering it.”

“All quirks take practice, gosh I still lose my clothes on a regular basis!” Mirio poked fun at himself, trying to lift her own spirits.

He didn’t know Yua at all, but the thought of her feeling such turmoil with her quirk made he himself feel downhearted. There were still red marks on her cheeks from where she had been pinching herself earlier, trying to get her quirk to stop. She was really struggling, perhaps even more than he initially realized in the moment.

“I can only imagine.” She giggled, “Doesn’t it get frustrating though?”

“Well yeah, of course!” Mirio glanced over his leg to watch her paint for a moment, “But it also makes people laugh, so I think that’s a pretty great trade-off.”

He watched Yua captured her bottom lip in her teeth, she was thinking again, contemplating something important.

“You really like to make others laugh, don’t you Toogata?” She finally released her lip, turning to dip her brush into a jar of gamsol before dipping it into a new color of paint.

“Absolutely! I mean you never know whose around that might need a pick-me-up. Laughter can really change a lot for people, also… it’s just fun don’t yah think?” He flashed her a bright grin.

“Yeah… ” Yua made eye contact with him for a moment before turning back to her work, “It is…. so where would you like to eat after we are done?” She completed a few more strokes before picking up some more paint on the tip of her brush, “I definitely owe you a good dinner after this session.”

“Oh yeah!” Mirio nearly forgot, “My payment!”

“Have you been to Kaiyo Joō?” Yua smiled, focusing on her work, but keeping her attention on Mirio.

“Oh that’s good! I won’t get sushi there though.” Mirio responded.

“Really why?” Yua tilted her head in question.

“It’s a little fishy.”

Yua nearly knocked over her canvas at his comment as she snorted out a laugh.

Mirio couldn’t help but laugh along with her, and he was sure for a second he felt a crisp breeze swirl throughout the room.

... She really did have a nice laugh.

Next- Chapter 2

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