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kalims · 3 months

Text

scribbles

"( – ⌓ – ) ⎯⎯ he lets you draw on his skin, yeah thats pretty much it.

ft. malleus, vil

malleus

it was... a breach of your patience.

the lesson, was awfully boring. the more you listened to the apparent 'heroic' doings of certain individuals. the more it strips away your attentiveness to the words spilling out of professor trein's mouth. no matter how many times you will your ears to make out the incoherent lecturing of the man... it remains deaf.

so you decide to sate said boredom.

how? of course you need to bother your seatmate!

your intentions remained within the circle of yourself of course. your eyes stuck to the stray marker over your paper so you silently twisted the cap off and scribbled on your paper—then it was your palm—and now, malleus' arm.

"child of...?" man. malleus finishes in his mind, his attention suddenly snapped away at the sudden tug of his arm. definitely not his own decision to even make it move in the first place. usually it would remain stiffly beside his body like usual and even if someone tried to pry it to them it would remain still. but without his attention, his body lets you.

without another word. you peel open his fingers, palm open to you and it's a notion he allows. and he stays silent when you tug his gloves off. perhaps with a curious huff, malleus drifts closer to you. to accommodate your actions that he's yet to get an explanation for.

... and suddenly there's very bright flowers drawn on his palm.

said owner of the palm might just be toe darkest person in the room so it's quite out of place.

but it's from you so he likes it.

he peeks at it, with a fond smile on his face. I should enchant it to remain there forever. he thinks to himself, the curve of his lips growing wider at his thoughts, like he'd proud of the idea. the idea of being able to carry around something made exclusively by you might as well shove him into a cannonball and send him to cloud nine.

it's adorable. you're adorable.

his world grows a little more blue the more he stares at you. and if it weren't for the searing glances the professor sends your way malleus would just let his eyes engrave you into his memory forever, so he laments over it and reluctantly peels his gaze off you. mind speaking a thousand memories, the very same reason he somehow can't hear anything trein says.

you draw a strange looking lizard beneath his ring finger, one that looks a little like him and he thinks that you're asking him for marriage.

that can be arranged... he ponders, oblivious.

vil

drawings, doodles, painting— art. a reflection of the soul.

vil is great at makeup.

every brush on your face, a step to beauty. that is his reflection. you are his soul. he wants to make you look—no, make you feel like you're beautiful cause the canvas he's standing in front of is his greatest piece of art, he'd want to put you on the tallest pedestal there is. the grandest one just so the rest knows your beauty is parallel to none, something they can see and admire but not reach.

but he also wants to keep you in his own room, because only he knows what he felt when he painted you. only he should be the one given the grace.

this... he doesn't know what to consider.

perhaps vil should be bothered, if not then a little peeved at the several colors across his skin. a myriad of doodles, some words, and some simple drawings. a poor portrait of him is drawn next to one he assumes yours, the 'fairest' word on the right side of his hand, and flowers.

he's sure though. you're definitely no artist.

the thought cracks a smile at him, and you steal a glance midst the cool tip of the pen dancing along his skin. "I'd thought you wouldn't even let me do this," you admit, chair having been moved over closer to him so you wouldn't have any leaning problems. a suggestion by vil you gratefully took up, though you doubt it was just another excuse to have you closer.

"why?"

"dunno," you shrug. "it looks unseemly compared to you."

he huffs, flashing you a light smirk. "so my face is, hmmm..." vil ponders for a moment, and your face twists to the realization that you possibly just exposed what you think. but you suppose it isn't really a problem since it was basically common sense that vil is...

"gorgeous." you finish for him.

his aura brightens. (probably will be for the rest of the week.)

your hand retracts from him, the marker gripped between your fingers. and he takes a look at your 'art.' he doesn't know if he should consider it as one since there are a heap of sloppy lines, and the color bleeds into his skin. some smudges that you accidentally brushed against that makes it seem like a messy picture of chaos.

vil strives for perfection, but it's only natural there are flaws. to love oneself, you must love all parts. and to love you, he loves whatever the ink on his skin is.

well, what the heck.

"pass it to me," he stretches his hand, and you quirk a brow. questioning but curious so he indulges you. "I'll show you how it's done."

note. ngl idk what I wrote for vil it's currently 12 AM rn ☠ <- newer note, this has been rotting in my drafts for weeks and I couldn't decide whether to post it cause I wasn't sure about vil's but here hehehe

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst fluff #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #x gn reader

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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

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You Have A Type, Don't You?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Based on this post

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

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

Word Count: 1,601

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All done, dear?”

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

“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”

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

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

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

“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

Tag List:

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

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

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impishjesters · 6 months

Note

I have this idea floating around in my brain for a while about a reader who likes to draw and because they have a crush on Jax they draw him. Jax eventually steals their notebook and probably teases them about it lol.

Jax x Crushing!Reader

warning(s): innuendos, bullying/teasing, Jax note(s): Look it's me and Jax, there's gonna be innuendos or some spicy wording and bullying. It's like a packaged deal or something. A/N: If you see me mixing Angel Dust's speech into Jax, no you didn't. If you didn't notice, I don't know how to tease and not be an asshole, so pretty on the brand I guess.

Caine had given you a sketchbook upon request, it was a little different than an actual sketchbook but it did the job regardless. Ever since your arrival, your fingers have been itching to draw, there were so many new sights and so much new inspiration.

There were so many things, so why did it seem like the doodles of Jax ended up on almost every page?

Easy, you had a crush on the apathetic, mischievous jerk named Jax.

Why? Well, now that’s the million-dollar question. He’s not inherently awful, no, that’s a lie, he’s an asshole. You don’t really have a good read on him yet but he’s funny! That’s gotta be redeemable, right? However, his jokes are usually backhanded and often involve being mean at the expense of others.

Okay so he’s a walking red flag but there’s something about him that has you crushing on the purple bastard.

Looking down at the sketchbook on your lap shows another two pages filled with sketches of random things, though most of the page is filled with Jax. You had taken to sketching things back in the real world to remind yourself of home, but eventually, those sketches would involve Jax doing mundane things.

Thing’s like sitting at a table eating real food, though you took creative measures when drawing an open mouth on him, it still looked off but it was serene and domestic. Then there’s the little sketch at the bottom of the page of Jax leaning against a window and staring outside. You’d manage to nab the pose and angle when he was leaning against one of the many random geometrical-shaped things in the main room and later added in a window.

It was embarrassing that almost more than half of the pages in the book involved Jax to some degree. Some pages weren’t even subtle, the whole page taking up a detailed portrait version of the male. Sometimes you even got creative and put him in different clothing.

Thumbing through the pages you saw there weren’t that many empty pages left. You’d need to ask Caine for another one and figure out what to do with this one. It couldn’t be left out in the open, you knew Jax had keys to everyone’s room and wouldn’t put it past him to go snooping. He’d already questioned you about the sketchbook before.

You’d been so focused on the sketchbook that you hadn’t noticed the man of the hour walking up. Jax noticed your intense focus and peeked over to see the infamous sketchbook on your lap, and with practiced ease managed to yoink it right off your lap.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You finally showing me what you keep your nose buried into?”

A yelp left you, stumbling to get on your feet you rushed to him and began swatting at the book and of course, he’d keep raising it just out of reach. “You took it! I didn’t say you could look at that!”

“Nah, pretty sure you said I could look at it.” He continued to lower and raise the book as you jumped to grab it. Sure he was curious before, but with a reaction like that? How could he not be even more curious? What kind of seedy shit were you drawing? Or perhaps some spicy nonfamily-friendly content?

Jax ignored your frantic words and opened the book to a random page, he was going to tease you about whatever dumb stuff you drew since you always had your nose in it but all he saw were sketches of himself.

A normal person might get embarrassed and hand the book back, but he’s not a normal person. It’s a little freaky, he won’t lie. A glance downwards shows him you’ve gone silent in front of him, simply staring down while he invades the privacy that was your sketchbook.

Your face is red and you look like you’re going to cry any second.

He’s a jerk, he was going to fuck with you, and he still is, but for the moment he’s taking in all the creative little pieces involving his face. Ya know, he never really thought much about how he’d look in other clothes. Gotta say he looks pretty snazzy in something that isn’t these shitty overalls.

“You know if I didn’t know any better,” his fingers still flip through the pages as he steps closer, circling you. “I’d say you like me.”

“I don’t.”

The reply is rushed and he rolls his eyes at the blatant lie, he’ll humor you this time. “Oh yeah? Does that mean you’ve got sketchbooks for everyone else too? Cause I’m pretty sure this is the only one I’ve seen you with.” He taps a doodle on the cover that gives away it’s the same notebook he always sees you with.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, you knew he was a jerk but this felt like too much. You just wanted your sketchbook back and to run away to your room, maybe pin something in front of the door that would render even the key useless.

His eyes roll the second he sees a tear, he’s not really seeing the problem here. You’ve got a book full of creepy—okay not completely creepy, he’s a good model so good on you for seeing that—sketches of him and he’s truthfully honored. It’s clear that you didn’t do this with everyone, so he’s honored to be your little model. Besides, it’s not like you actually have a crush on him, right?

Minutes tick by of him simply eyeing you, you’re still crying and it’s starting to get a little ugly and snotty, ugh. But you aren’t trying to further deny his little comment about you liking him. He’ll have to have a little talk about that later, what you could possibly see in him because he knows that you aren’t a sadist—oh, are you a masochist? That’d explain a lot.

Jax sighs and closes the book but doesn’t hand it over, simply putting the free hand on his hip. “You know if you wanted to see my face all you gotta do is ask. I’ll gladly show you this handsome face any day toots.”

Of all the things you thought he’d say, that wasn’t it. “H-huh..?” You embarrassingly wipe away the tears and snot before looking up at him.

“You heard me. Ya know I love this face too, very handsome. Maybe we can get Caine to put up some artwork in the tent of yours truly.” Jax wouldn’t consider himself vain, but you did have a way of making him look more, dare he say, attractive.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand…” Was he still making fun of you?

He rolls his eyes before playfully hitting your head with the book. “Jeez, and here I thought you were smart.” Jax leaned over like he was speaking to a child and pushed the book to your chest. “I’m saying, the next time you wanna draw me I’ll give you a front-row seat. Maybe even take it to the bedroom so we won’t be disturbed.”

You push the book into his face to cover up that growing smirk and blush furiously. “Wh-what?! N-no I-I don’t…!” It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not in his offer to model for you, especially with the bedroom comment.

“C’mon, clearly you got taste. I mean that book is filled with sketches of me. I’ll commend you on your immaculate taste.” Jax taps the book before playfully bopping your nose. “At least let me give you the pleasure of seeing me close up. I’ve never been a model before so you might have to get a little hands-on to get me the way you want me.”

As the innuendos continue your face feels like it’s getting impossibly red and warm. Somehow this is worse than him telling you a sketchbook full of his face is creepy, in fact, you’d almost prefer it because your poor little heart can’t take anymore. You let out a yell and it stops his tangent but that stupid smirk of his never disappears.

“Offer still stands. You know where to find me.” Jax turns away but not before throwing a little wink over his shoulder. He still plans on pestering you about what you see in him, but for now, he’ll cut you some slack. You’re about as red as Ragatha’s hair and as much as he loves to see it, he didn’t plan to get this sidetracked when he saw you on your own.

He’s got a sucker to prank.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax

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luveline · 2 years

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if you want, maybe roan is just like doodling around and stuff yk and she draws a typical like family pic but eddie notices that beside the both of them there’s another messily drawn figure and it’s the reader :( <3

HELL yeh ty baby ♡ fem!reader

Eddie's a good dad. Fuck anyone who thinks otherwise, he's good at this shit, and if Roan wants to go get burgers every Friday he's gonna take her. His daughter deserves the world.

Including greasy, messy quarter pounders from Benny's diner.

"What's that one?" Eddie asks, pointing over Roan's half eaten plate with his pinky finger at her drawing, the table between them covered in crayons from her open pencil case.

"This? This'a doggy," she says, like it's obvious and he's the worst.

"I knew that," — he did not know that — "I meant want kind of doggy."

"Oh. That's our dal-dalm-damnation!"

Eddie grins at the idea of a dalmatian named damnation. Fucking sweet. "Dalmatian, babe." He wipes his fingers in a napkin so he can lean over and pick sesame seeds out of her hair and off of her little sweater. "I thought you wanted a St. Bernard. The rescue dogs with the medicine around their neck, you remember?"

She points at the dalmatian's side where she's drawn a cross in red crayon. "He is a rescue dog."

Eddie hums appreciatively and picks up his burger again. But the time he's finished Roan has moved onto a clean page. She sits there tap tap tapping her crayon against the corner.

"What do I draw?" she asks.

Eddie grabs his napkin. "You didn't give me a look at the first one!" he exclaims, stacking her plate on top of his.

Roan struggles. Her sketchbook is a simple plain workbook from Bradley's with thin paper, but the size of it is still heavy in her small hands. She turns back to the page she'd just been decorating and brandishes it against her chest proudly.

"Holy sugar, that's awesome," he praises, and means it. "Is that Princess Peony?"

"The damnation is saving her," Roan says.

"I can see that."

He reaches under the table for his backpack. Inside, he carries around all the bare essentials necessary for successful kid outings — spare clothes, Teddy the pink bear with one ear, a hair brush, hair ties, her rain mac. And, the most important thing, wet wipes.

"Alright, c'mere. Let me wipe that face."

Despite contrary instruction, Eddie walks around to sit on her side of the booth. He does hands first, then crayons caught in the crossfire, then her face. She hates it, but when she was a baby she loathed it. He takes her scowl as an improvement.

"Why don't you draw... Maybe, a new family portrait? We can put it on the fridge like the first one. You can even include your damnation, if you like."

"He isn't real, dad."

"Just draw what's real, then. Can I trust you while I go get drinks?"

She makes a haughty little face that he takes for an eye roll and leaves to get drinks, though he's not really leaving. He's about ten feet away from her at all times and he keeps his eye on her.

He only looks away for what can't be ten seconds, and she's gone. His heart skips as his eyes scour the diner.

"Dad?"

Eddie flinches, his coke tipping over the side and down his hand. "Oh, sh- sugar," he says, kissing his fingers dry. "Babe, you scared me."

Roan stands at his knee with her drawing in hand. She wields it up at him insistently.

"That's for me? Swap?" he asks, offering her a small glass of juice.

Roan takes the juice in one hand. Eddie quickly takes her drawing so she can use both hands, watching the pride as she shuffles carefully back to the table. She doesn't spill a drop.

Eddie shakes out the drawing and sips his coke. The edges are ragged along the top where she's torn it free.

Front and centre is Roan. She's drawn herself with big long eyelashes and a full head of curls, total dad-win, in a huge cloud of pink he assumes is her very best princess dress. To her left is Eddie, same head of curls, long lashes amiss but a huge smile on his face, and to Eddie's left is Wayne. He looks especially dapper, a coffee mug in hand.

It's a great likeness.

And then there's you.

Your hair, your favourite shirt. Roan has drawn you with lovely eyes and a heart next to your smile, messy but so obviously you.

He beams like a fool as he sits down next to her again. She's already turned to a new page in her blook.

"Roan, this is amazing. And... That's Y/N."

"Duh," she says.

"Duh," he repeats, dumbfounded.

He wonders what he's supposed to say here. Telling her you aren't part of their family wouldn't be true. Telling her you are might set a precedent you aren't ready for. He worries it over for a while and takes despondent swings of coke, listening to Roan scribbling furiously beside him.

"Done!"

Eddie looks down. He gawks.

"Baby, is that..."

She points with her crayon enthusiastically. "Tada!"

"It's a castle," Eddie says carefully.

"That's where a princess gets married."

"And that's..."

"That's Y/N!"

There you are. Smiling, a bouquet of blue, red and yellow flowers on bright green stalks in hand. A prince stands beside you in a suit with a bright red scribble across his chest like a sash. The prince also has long, curly hair.

"Where are you?" he asks.

Roan points at a purple blob with black hair in the background. "I'm the flower girl."

Eddie throws his arm over her small shoulders and drops a firm, smacking kiss against her round cheek. "That's where you're wrong, bub. You'd be right next to me, my best girl."

She giggles infectiously at him, his words and breath tickling her face.

"Dad, don't be stupid. It's s'posed to be a man with you."

"Make an exception? Just this once it can be a girl. Pretty please?"

She smiles at him. It's a much older expression than she should have, like she's entertaining his fantasy, like he's the kid. "Okay, dad. I will be the best girl."

Later, when he tells you the story, you get super indignant. His stomach turns to a pit as he worries he's overstepped, but you say, "How is that fair? I want her to be my best girl."

"Maid of honour."

"What's the difference? You got her all this time completely by yourself, and you're not gonna share her on our wedding day?" Your voice drifts off as you dissapear into the bathroom, though he can hear you muttering, "Ridiculous."

He hides his electric blush with a pillow over his face. When you return, you climb half on his chest and force the pillow away to dot spearmint kisses against his pinked cheeks.

more eddie and roan (and reader!)

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie and roan #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic

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bloodandoranges · 7 months

Text

Through Your Eyes

Astarion x Reader/Tav / short / soft and sweet / Tav draws Astarion, he gushes

Thank you for all the love on my first post! I’m working on some Karlach stuff right now because I noticed that she’s really lacking in fics so obviously that needs to be rectified.

Astarion tapped his foot, leaning back against his hands as he waited…he liked to think he was a patient man, but…he was not.

“Darling, how much longer will this take?” He complained, tilting his head from side to side as if his muscles were aching.

Tav glance over her sketch pad, a soft laugh escaping her. “… Astarion, I’ve been drawing for ten minutes," she spoke, gazing intently at him for a moment… before getting back to work.

He gave a bit of a huff; though it clearly wasn’t genuine annoyance. He actually really appreciated it. She was a wonderful artist. He’d caught her doodling their companions and seeing how well she caught their likeness? He was eager to see himself from her eyes… and well, eager to see himself in general.

Cazador may have been more than happy to splurge on portraits of himself, but his spawn? He wouldn’t even dream of it. He frowned a little at the thought, and Tav gave a soft laugh.

“Stop frowning… I want to draw that beautiful smile.” Of course, she wasn’t to know what was on his mind. Astarion blinked, eyes widening a bit…clearly? He hadn’t noticed he was outwardly expressing his frustration.

He gave a little huff, readjusting and giving her a sly smile. “…You know that’s not what I mean," she spoke, lowering the sketch pad…He caught the slightest glimpse of himself and beamed. “That one!” she laughed, eagerly fumbling to adjust the sketch.

“Oh come now, you’ve got to be done, surely!” he sighed frantically as he crawled over, arms winding around her waist as he nuzzled into her shoulder, gazing over the sketch… His face softened immediately at the sight.

There he was, basking in the sun and settled in front of his tent, an adoring smile on his face. His hair was coiffed, somehow curled around his face perfectly despite the whole no mirror thing… He looked ethereal. There were a couple more sketches on the page too, showcasing his face up close, wrinkles and blemishes and all.

Of course, he knew he was gorgeous; he’d had zero doubts about that. But to see what he truly looked like? Drawn by someone who treasured him so dearly? It almost bought a tear to his eye. Almost.

“Darling, these are simply divine…” he whispered, taking the sketch pad from her to admire them. “We should get them framed.”

“Wh- they’re not /that/ good!” she cried, eyes wide at the suggestion.

“Nonsense! They’re everything to me…” he cooed, setting the sketch pad down to cup her face, gazing at her with so much love.

Tav flushed, hands slowly moving to settle over his. She really didn’t feel like a couple sketches warranted framing, but it was clearly important to him. “…Okay, Astarion. I’ll get them framed,” Tav cooed, kissing lazily at his palms… Which turned into lazy kisses, which turned into Gale loudly scolding the pair from across the camp.

They looked at each other, laughing loudly as they untangled themselves to stand… And just like that, they were off to the city.

#bg3 #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate 3 #Astarion #astarion ancunin #Astarion x tv #astarion x reader #astarion x y/n #short #fic #soft n sweet

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ivy-loves-chocolate · 10 days

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✧˚ · .Painting their portrait ✧˚ · .

Note: I hope everyone is doing well 💖 I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 💖 If you want to commission me check my ko-fi and pinned post for prices. Thank you!

When he found out about your talent, he immediately bought you the most expensive equipment. Whether you like to paint on a canvas or on a graphic tablet, he will buy you only the best products.

He's very old-fashioned and wants a classic portrait. He'll arrange a proper setting to fit his taste. With a fireplace in the background, an expensive suit, and some other decoration that screams old money, he’ll sit with his legs crossed in his comfy chair while he looks at you. A soft smile would appear on his face, especially when you two locked eyes. You thought about painting that lovely smile and contouring those sweet dimples, but you know him better and chose to leave a stoic expression on his face. His soft side is for your eyes only.

He won’t mind sitting for hours because he'll have the greatest company. You two will gossip about the hottest tea at work, talk about his latest projects, and besides that, he'll have his romantic moments when he tells you how much he cherishes you.

The final result leaves him in awe.

"Darling, this is astonishing." He said, amber eyes studying every inch of the canvas and feeling an immense sense of pride washing over him. He couldn't take his eyes off your masterpiece.

"I knew you had it in you," he began after a short period of total silence. "Yet you managed to exceed my expectations."

You breathe a sigh of relief. Even if he was your boyfriend, it was hard to please him. He didn't coddle you, so when he praised you, you knew it was real.

He will hang that portrait with pride in his office, and he’ll tell everyone with pride that his partner made the incredible art.

With the corner of his eye, he noticed how you kept shifting your gaze from your notebook to him. Sometimes you'd stare longer at him, and sometimes your hand would go faster and then slower as if you were trying to remember something. Sometimes, you would scratch your head with the pencil and sighed in frustration.

Whatever you were doodling, it wasn't coming along as you wanted.

Not being able to control his curiosity anymore, he slowly approached your desk.

"Whatcha doing there?" he asked, looking over your shoulder, directly in the notebook. A wide smile appeared shortly.

You didn't hide the page in time, and Leon saw the sketches with his face. You drew him from three different angles. Even if you were in a hurry, you still captured his soft features—his genuine smile and his gentle gaze.

"I- uh-I..." you fumbled, hands going in random directions over the paper.

"You don't have to hide it. I think it looks good." He smirked and went back to his desk.

"Thanks. Listen, I was taking a break, and I felt a bit of inspiration coming in-"

"You don't have to excuse yourself." He chucked and turned to face you. In that moment, you saw a faint blush on his cheeks. "I think it looks great, given how fast you draw."

"And given how much you fidget,"

He chuckled.

"Seriously, man, lay off that coffee."

You both laughed, making some people turn their attention to you out of curiosity. A quick glance around, and you quiet down a bit.

"If you want to finish, I'll try my best to stand still."

"I would appreciate that."

You both smiled at each other. Time went by fast, and by the time you finished, the office was empty. None of you felt the time passing by as you got to know each other better. Leon loved his portraits and "stole" your notebook.

He loved everything you did. Every gesture, every tic, everything was just perfect for him.

What he cherished most was your talent when it came to art. Everything you touched turned into a masterpiece, something so beautiful that it can’t be described by a simple man. So, when you wanted to paint him, he looked at you in shock.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"Why?" he chuckled.

"Because I want to. And because I want an excuse to stare at your picture for hours while you are away on missions."

He pulled you closer and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Alright. Make sure to highlight my good side."

"As if you have a bad one."

Despite loving how affectionate and supportive you were with him, he never understood why. He viewed himself as a rough, cranky man who got on everyone's nerve. For short, an asshole. But to you, he wasn't like that. Despite the hardships in his life, he still maintained a soft gaze.

Naturally, he wondered why you wanted him to be part of your beautiful portfolio. And more importantly, did he deserve to be part of it?

For the next couple of days, he waited for you to finish. He would peek in your room to see the progress, but you didn't let him. You wanted to surprise him.

When he came back from his mission, arriving in your comfy apartment, you shoved your art in front of his face.

"Do you like it?" you asked excitedly.

He reluctantly took the canvas and stared at it for a few seconds. It's not that he didn't like it. It's the fact that he didn't recognize himself. His scars weren’t so prominent, his eyes weren't so full of sadness and anger, and his lips were curved in a soft smile. His features were softer, friendlier, even.

“This… I know it’s me, but it feels like I’m looking at a stranger.”

"Why do you say that?”

“It feels like you retouched my face.”

“Hmm, no, this is how you look in real life. You're not as tough-looking as you think."

He loves it regardless, and he loves you even more.

His muse in this life was you. Every time he looked at you, every time he saw your pretty face, his mood would lighten up in a heartbeat. A catastrophe at the moment would turn into something insignificant, something he could overcome with ease.

What he loved most about you was your talent. He was amazed at the beautiful things you could create with your hands, unlike him. He found refuge in your art, staring at your finished and unfinished projects for hours.

"Mi dulzura, what masterpieces are you creating?"

"Thank you, mi rey. Wanna be part of them?"

He smiled. He approached you with light footsteps, rubbing your shoulders gently when he reached your back.

"I'd be honoured."

He was thrilled. Being fascinated by your talent, he wanted to ask you long ago, but he didn't want to overcrowd you as you had many projects and clients. He didn't want to put more pressure. He simply told you that he doesn't want anything fancy.

He waited every day for you to finish, barely containing himself from asking dozens of questions. You had to kick him out multiple times from your room because you wanted to surprise him.

"Luis," you called out, "it's done!"

He came in a hurry, and as expected, he loved the result. He wouldn't stop praising you for creating another masterpiece.

"This is...I have no words. It's simply stunning."

"Well, you are stunning," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I guess I really am your Prince Charming."

You chuckled and were ready to say something, but he caught your lips in a quick, gentle kiss.

From that moment on, he becomes your one and only muse. You'd paint him in various poses and various clothes, sometimes with you as well. He would sit near you, watching you do your magic without saying a word. He loves and respects what you do a lot.

#resident evil #albert wesker #leon kennedy #luis sera #resident evil 4 remake #leon kennedy x reader #albert wesker x reader #luis serra x reader #jack krauser #jack krauser x reader #fluff #headcanons

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trashpandato · 6 months

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Art

Kara is a doodler.

Anytime she has a pen or pencil in her hand, she doodles. Initially, it started off as a way for Kara to find a credible explanation for when she was drawing Kryptonian symbols on the edges of her school work in high school.

“Kara likes to doodle,” Jeremiah explained to her teacher who had pointed it out during a parent-teacher meeting.

Kara had to ask Jeremiah what doodling meant, and then vehemently disagreed with him that that is what she was doing. But then Jeremiah reminded her, again, that she could never let anyone know that she wasn’t human and really shouldn’t be writing Kryptonian words on anything that could be seen in public.

From that moment on, Kara learned to stay away from words and began to try and capture her memories of Krypton as images. She still doddled, as Jeremiah called it, because all anyone not familiar with Kara’s background would see on the page were circles (not Krypton’s moons) or abstract shapes (not the skyline of buildings Kara remembered seeing from her bedroom window).

Over time, Kara’s doodles became less about Krypton and more about things she had seen on Earth. Cat Grant famously asked her about a scribble of a cat in a tree that showed up on the upper left edge of a printed press release Kara had handed to her. Kara stammered her way through an apology and explained that she had rescued a cat during her lunch break and the image must have stuck in her head somehow.

Most of the time, Kara’s doodles are about food, though.

She draws little pizzas, dumplings still in their steamer baskets, croissants that make a decorative edge around the notes from her latest interview. It’s mindless fun and keeps her hands entertained when she’s bored or needs some release valve for her extra energy.

“It’s almost Freudian with you” Alex joked once when she found a small ink pen drawing of a box of donuts on a few notes Kara made while listening to a briefing at the DEO.

“I told you not to schedule the briefing over lunch,” Kara shot back and then immediately launched herself into the skies in search of her favourite donuts in National City.

And then she meets Lena, and it doesn’t take long for Kara’s doodles to include little chess pieces, loops that remind her of the earrings Lena wore that day, sharp lines that look a lot like a certain building with a large L on its facade.

It’s years into their friendship when Lena finally asks her about it.

Kara is sitting at her kitchen island, lost in thought. She’s spent the last few days frantically trying to help organize Alex and Kelly’s wedding. She’s exhausted, and Lena has offered to make them some tea to help Kara relax when she turns around and asks.

“What’s that?”

Kara frowns but looks up at Lena then.

“What’s what?”

“You’re, I don’t know, scribbling something. Or drawing. I’m not sure because it almost didn’t look like you were even paying attention to what your hand was doing.”

“Oh,” Kara feels a little like Lena caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. “It’s nothing. Just a doodle.”

Kara wants to cover up the paper in front of her but Lena is already there, craning her neck to see the small image that has appeared on the edge of Kara’s to-do list for the wedding.

It’s a small portrait of Lena. Next to a larger doodled heart.

It’s not subtle, but then again, none of Kara’s doodles ever are. It’s just that usually no one else sees them. But when Lena does see this one, she freezes. For a brief moment, Kara wishes a portal would open up in her kitchen so she could disappear rather than have to explain. But then, Lena turns to face her, eyes wide but oh so full of hope and Kara knows this is it, the final step for them.

Years later, Sam finds the framed doodle in Lena’s and Kara’s apartment, hanging just to the side of several photos they’ve taken over the years of their friends and family. Sam turns to Kara and smirks.

“This is high art. You should feature it more prominently.”

Kara smacks Sam’s arm but can’t help the broad smile overtaking her features.

“I’m sure if I move the Kandinsky to hang this one up by the fireplace instead, Lena is going to divorce me.”

Sam laughs but then says: “Lena loves you so much, she would let you doodle on that Kandinsky.”

And Kara isn’t so sure about that. It’s an original, after all. But she is sure that Lena loves her, so she just nods and pulls Sam back into the living room to re-join their friends.

Kara does draw a small portrait of Lena on the side of her Yahtzee score sheet later, though.

#supercorp #kara x lena #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober

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obsessedwrhys · 19 days

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Aesthete

(adj.) Someone with a deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ where Abby let's you draw a portrait of her

c/w: fluff, reader is female because I refuse to believe she's straight 😡, abby being insecure (?), gun talk, some cursing, just two lesbos bickering like a married couple, kissing, did not proof read this!!

ᯓ★

Inside your shared room, you somehow found yourself painting on another canvas after just telling yourself you'd be done with your last one. Since you were a kid, you've always been drawn towards anything that had to do with brushes and colours. It was better spending your time painting rather than talking to people, they were always rude or just straight off insensitive. All except for someone...

Abby...

She always adored your skills. Everytime you were assigned to go on patrols together, she would just peek her head from behind your shoulder to see what you were doodling in your journal. Out of everyone you knew, she was the one constantly bragging about your drawings to her friends. And you guys aren't even dating!!

Yet... which you always liked to tell yourself.

With your brush applying another soft stroke on the canvas, you started to grow bored of it, another idea already crawling up from the back of your mind. Maybe you could try doing a portrait, you have the experience but you just don't have the subject. Almost out of instinct, you knew who to find. Pretty much the only person you'd figure would be fine with this.

Abandoning your brush and pallette on the round chair, you decided to leave and try to find Abby. It wasn't hard to find her since she would spend almost all of her time in the gym. Swinging open the glass door, you headed in and walked past several other WLFs who were also training, your eyes glued to one person.

There she was, doing bench presses as usual.

You decided to stop a few feet away from where she was, almost like you were in a trance from watching her biceps flex each time she lifted the heavy weight. Not wanting to be seen as a creep, which you already have, you walked closer to make your presence known. "Hey Abby" You said with a smile. Your voice startling her a bit.

"Oh, hey" She said before setting the weight back to its rightful place. She sits up on the bench as she looks at you with a friendly smile. "You need anything?" She said, always kind and polite towards you that it somehow made you feel all giddy inside.

"I was wondering if you'd liked to be the subject of a portrait I'm doing" You said and your words struck her a bit. She looked like she just received news of something big. "Uhh... if you're worried about the portrait turning out ugly, I promise I'll be extra focused on the details" You said, figuring if that was the reason behind her reaction.

"Huh? Ah no, I wasn't worried about that. I'm just surprised you'd pick me" She chuckles awkwardly as she stands up, her height scaring you a bit. "Did you expect me to pick someone else?" You asked, the two of you walking side by side.

"Well... maybe I figured you'd choose someone more... elegant" She said, holding the door open for you to go first. "Elegant?" You scoff out of amusement.

"Didn't you show me one of your books? Where all of the people drawn were wearing those tight dresses and having their hair up so high" Abby said, recalling the memory.

"Pssh, that's different, trust me, I know what I'm doing" You opened the door to your room, inviting her inside.

"Whatever you say" She responded with a playful smile. Once you closed the door, her eyes were already examining around the room that's messy from all of your art stuff.

"Seems like you didn't take my advice" She said, looking at the stack of books you had thrown along with the pile of discontinued drawings.

"I'll do that later" You said dismissively since you realised everytime you cleaned your supplies, you were always gonna use it and make a mess anyways, best to save it for a day where you have the energy to clean.

"Soo uhh... what do I...?" Abby walks over to where you're busy setting a brand new canvas.

"You can just sit at the sofa so you can be right in front of me" You said, putting everything in place and she just does what you instructed. She finds herself seated in front of you and it somehow made her shy. Does she pose or...? This is all new to her.

"You can move your body around a bit, just try not to move your head a lot, so uh... relax" You said, already picking up your brush. "Got it" She said as she leans back onto the cushion.

With your focus on the portrait, you failed to notice the way she was watching you, her gaze was full of warmth and admiration. She was eyeing your every move as if she was watching a film.

"I never got to ask, how did you learn to paint?" Abby said and it made you stop in your act to think it over. "Can't remember exactly when, I just knew it was fun to do so I kept doing it" You simply responded and she smiles softly at your answer. "Fun huh? Is that why you're doing a portrait of me?" She said and her playful tone made you almost freeze in place.

"I guess you could say that" You said, your hand carefully doing the shades of her face. The room remained quiet for a moment, just faint sounds of your brush mixing together different colours on your pallete. "Can you lift your head up a bit?" You asked and she does just that. "Perfect" You said and quickly press your brush back on the canvas.

Your eagerness had her struggle to contain a smile. "If only you were this passionate about your gun training" She said since this was a topic that you could care less about.

"I don’t really like guns, it's too violent for me"

"True... but its also the reason why you're still alive. C'mon, at least fix your aim" She said which had you turn to look at her.

"Whats wrong with my aim?"

"Errr..." She trails off, struggling to find the right words but you were well aware of what she was trying to say. "Just try not to have your bullets flying everywhere" She said, her response having you raise an eyebrow at her.

"... don't make me draw a hairy moustache on you" You threatened which had her laugh.

"Am I supposed to find that scary?" She asked to which you pointed the end of your paintbrush at her to warn her to be careful of her next words. This action just encouraging her even more but for her sake of not wanting a horrendous looking moustache on her portrait, she'll stop.

After a while, she let's out a soft sigh. "Getting tired?" You asked, your face hidden by the canvas so she couldn't see you.

"A bit" She admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. Your head peaks from the side of canvas, trying to mimic the sweat that was still present on her forehead due to her earlier workout.

Without even realising, you were basically staring at her face a little too hard. It was funnier from Abby's perspective cause all she could see was your pair of eyes staring at her so intensely. "Am I too far away? You're looking pretty hard" She joked, pointing out how your brows were slightly narrowed.

You ended up shushing her which she found amusing. "I'm thinking, don't disrupt my thoughts" You said.

"Yes ma'am"

After a couple of minutes, you managed to finish the portrait, just a few details here and there then you were finally satisfied with yourself. "You can get up now" You said as you carefully added some tiny dots or lines. Abby pushed herself off the sofa and stood beside you.

"Damn" She said, blown away by the portrait you had done of her. It was like a reflection in a mirror. "What are you gonna do with it?" Abby asked as you stepped back to finally admire your work. "I don't know... maybe I'll hang it up somewhere in my room" You said. This caught her interest almost immediately. "You want a portrait of me in your room?" She asked, seeming embarrassed.

"Well do you want it in your room?" You asked which made her go silent.

"It's fine, I really don't mind, you'd be surprised by how many scary things I've painted and displayed on my walls" You said, carefully picking up the canvas and moving it to the other side of the room. Abby simply follows you with her arms folded.

"Comparing my face to scary things doesn't make it sound any better" She said and you could sense a tiny hint of frustration in her tone which had you chuckle to yourself. "Stop being a baby and help me hang this up" You said after finding a open spot on the wall to put it.

"You.are.unbelievable" She shakes her head slightly with a defeated smile as she takes the canvas from your hand before standing on the chair to hang it on to the nail.

Once she was done, she stepped down from the chair to stand beside you. The two of you now staring at the portrait.

"I have to admit, you're really gifted" Abby said and it made you turn your head to look at her. "Thanks" You smiled at her compliment. The second she turns to look at you, you felt yourself melt at her stare as if her blue eyes were hypnotising you. You swore for a second you could see hearts popping up around her.

Why is she looking at you like that?

Like you're the single most beautiful thing she has ever seen

"If you uh don't mind... could I stay for a while?" She asked, her voice so soft it was intoxicating.

"Sure" You blurted out without even thinking twice.

Noticing how flustered you looked, Abby tilts her head with a grin. "You okay?" She asked but her tone was anything but concern, it was like she was teasing you, knowing the effect she had on you.

"Yeahh, I'm good" You turned around and began walking back to your supplies, feeling as though you needed to escape her presence quickly to be able to think straight.

"Are you sure? Cause you looked like you wanted to kiss me just now" She said and it stopped you from reaching out to your brushes. Your mind was short circuiting.

Fuck this woman...

"And what if I said I wanted to?" You managed to say since it was easier that you weren't looking at her.

Suddenly you could hear her footsteps approaching you from behind, almost like each step she took added a weight in your chest. The tension on you shoulders relaxed the moment you felt her hands placed on them, gently, she turned you around to have you face her.

"Then kiss me" She said, no, pleaded. Her face showing how much she also wanted this.

You leaned in closer to her, the two of you haven't even kissed yet but just from the feeling of your chests pressed together made you both breathless. Eventually you pressed your lips on hers, taking it slow as you wanted to savour this moment, but it didn't last long as the desperation started to grew.

Within seconds, you were kissing Abby hard and she did the same, her hand wrapped around the back of your neck while the other is placed on your hip. The kiss was messy. Your hands grabbing at whatever you could on her body as you were completely lost in the taste of her.

Your touch was driving her crazy as well, thinking back to the countless nights of how she much she wanted this. To have you this close, to have you melt just from her lips. Out of breath and feeling tired, you pulled away but Abby didn't let you and quickly pulled you back in for another kiss. Her action causing you to yelp and for a sec she felt her stomach flip. She chuckles.

"So pretty" She muttered before pressing her lips back on yours again and again, not wanting the moment to end.

"Abby..." You laid your hands on her arms and she pulled back to admire you. The mess she had made of you.

"Yes...?" She said, gently caressing your face.

"You keep kissing me and I'm gonna pass out" You said and your words had her chuckle softly.

"Sorry, can't help it when your lips are so sweet" She said, her thumb rubbing on your cheek affectionately.

"Did you think this would happen when you asked me to come over?" She asks.

"Ummm... maybe?" You said. You had a feeling something might happen but you never thought it'd turn out like this.

"I've just liked you for a very long time but I wasn't sure you felt the same" You confessed and her smile grew wider.

"Seriously? What, was me bragging about you to everyone not obvious enough? Should I have been starting a fan club for you so you'd find out better?" She teased and you smacked her on the shoulder playfully.

"Maybe you should, then I'd know that you actually liked me" She sighs, pretending to act like she's regretting this missed opportunity.

"You're right. Maybe if I did start a massive fan club dedicated to you, we would of had this kiss sooner" She said, leaning in closer to have her forehead rested on yours.

"Well we're here now aren't we?" You looked up at her, a smirk on your face.

"True" She then started to move and you couldn't help but let your eyes flutter close, waiting for her to kiss you again but somehow the feeling of her lips on yours never came.

You opened your eyes and found her actually moving her lips inches away from your ears instead. "How about we clean your room now, hm?" She said which had you in disbelief. She was now reminding you of how dirty your room is after just kissing you.

"If tidying up my things is so much fun then sure" You moved away from her but she was quick to follow you.

"If I get to spend more time with you, I don't see anything boring about it" Abby said, already on to arrange your stack of unorganised books. You watch her with a look of gratitude, knowing this mess is gonna take a very long time to clean.

"Thanks Abs"

"You can thank me with a kiss after we're done" She shoot you a cheeky smile which had you roll your eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards.

"Fine" You stood beside her to help with putting your books in order. Seeing how focused you were, Abby couldn't help but have her hip nudging yours on purpose to get your attention. You chuckle, knowing this cleaning session is gonna take a while.

(Now I'm gonna do super duper angst Ellie, this plot has been stuck on my mind 😄)

#CHAT IS THIS REAL #BEEN CRUSHING ON THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby tlou2 #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #fluff #x reader #abby anderson tlou2

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next-station-willde-central · 3 months

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Something about Nine makes me sad and happy at the same time - he's an artist; he did his own grafittis, to be exact, and that's yet another thing that differentiates him from Tails, that, as I'm aware, isn't really skilled in spraypainting

"Wait, Wild, aren't you just projecting headcanons onto your favourite character?" - nope. The proof is in his original New Yoke base:

"Oh, but it's just the creators 'prolly drawing him and placing it as a treat" - then how, in-universe, did it appear there? And why is it a drawing of Nine specifically (notice he's shown in his hoodie and off-coloured), alongside a gun (?) and, I assume, some spray tests, just like people test brushes and paints? No one else had access to his base other than Nine himself, and knowing how distrustful he is, he would not let some random street artist barge into his lair and do his portrait on the wall.

What further supports this theory is the fact he has the same drawings in the Grim... which, again, could not be accessed by anyone other than him (by the way, it seems like all the paintings were made on a movable board that Nine must've carried all the way from New Yoke, which still, why would you move THOSE DRAWINGS in particular if you weren't the author that's, I'd even say, proud of them?).

Annndddd let's also not forget the board has a drawing of a gun, like aformentioned - the same one he used to scan Sonic... is that a coincidence? I really, really don't think so.

On the ending note(s), can we talk about how he even picks colors and how he portrays himself? Because in the drawing of himself, he seems sharper and more vibrant (f.e.: his fur is phosphorescent lime-yellow, or his muzzle is literally cyan), with a bitching expression ever more amplified by the shadows around his face and a black hoodie, like he even WANTS to be viewed, even in his private home, in interior no one should even see, in a simple spray doodle, as someone dangerous, someone you would never want to cross paths with, someone shady and a little bit of not obvious (that part refers to the absolutely eyesore colours he used; unless Nine is just colorblind and doesn't know how that drawing appears to most people, buut that's more of a big speculation-theory territory that we do not get into in this post).

Second ending, it also further proves that Nine is not really Tails - sure, in the New Yoke universe he does fill the niche of being Miles Prower, same as Mangey does in Boscage Maze and Sails in No Place, but in this equation Nine =/= Tails (and some, like me, would say Nine > Tails, but we call those horrid phases opinions and we keep them under our pillows /lh). They share the basics - being super-intelligent, young foxes skilled in mechanics, inventors bullied for their two tails that overcame hardships due to their determination - but aside from that? The skeleton is identical, but everything else that's bulit upon it is completely different - this is why they aren't really the same person. Tails is a prodigy kid and a hero, accompanied by friends and a team ready to help him, and Nine is an isolated and ostracized anarchist basement dweller driven by anxiety and childhood trauma that also happens to be an artist. And a hacker. And a suprisingly good fighter. And-

And a person with his own identity - imagine stripping away his every single original trait and comparing him to a random kid that's also a "better", more successful version of him that actually won in the end.

A kid that's super great, but can the kid do those amazing grafittis like him? Nah. 1:0 for Nine, losahs' /j

tldr; Nine can actually spraypaint and he's good at it, as seen in his New Yoke lab/in Grim - the way he does it kind of tells his personality and thoughts; also further proves Tails and Nine are two different people and that Nine is just occupying Tails' "niche" in his Shatterverse, not directly being him

#sonic prime #sonic prime s3 #nine the fox #tails nine #analysis #also he's such an theatre kid lmao #“let's make an Elsa palace in a purple gem wasteland to show my utteerrrr powerrr”#yeah nine this is how you do it

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simplylatte · 7 months

Text

♡ First Date with Wally Darling! ♡

I think this is self-explanatory of what happens here. You really know how to sweep Wally off of his feet ♡♡♡

Oh boy, where to start with this silly little fella?

Wally was very hesitant to ask you out at first

He didn't know how to express his feelings for you, you were his first

Don't worry, you're his only one hehe

Being too worried about being rejected upfront, Wally ended up mailing you a letter and confessing to you that way

The letter itself had so many doodles of hearts

Wait... is that you and Wally holding hands!?!?

Let's just say... Wally came home with a bunch of kisses that night

You made his heart beat so fast <33

SO now came the dates!!

Surprisingly enough, the first date wasn't a dinner date

You went over to his Home and painted with this silly puppet!! A colorful date, of you will!

You saw how he drew and painted, all in his unique art style to his liking

Okay, Wally may or may not have rambled about you during your time together, but c'mon! He's just so in love with you!!

"You know, I just really love your smile."

"Why are you so pretty? I can't seem to stop staring."

His compliments, without a doubt, left you so flustered

Wally ended up painting a lovely portrait of you while you made an attempt to paint him in return

Regardless of how you thought of your art skills, Wally absolutely adored the painting!

"Oh, is that me? You painted me? Ha, ha.. that's adorable."

He was very excited and happy for your generous gift, he still has it hung up on his walls ♡♡

To add more onto this colorful date, you and Wally ended up snuggling with each other!! Aww, you two are so cute together!

He was still too shy to kiss you, since he didn't know how, but he would not let go of your hand

Funny enough, the first date is what helped you find out that Wally loves snuggles!

Overall very lighthearted and simple, nothing too fancy :>

Let's just say though.. Wally had the biggest smile his neighbors have ever seen

You're his most ♡

#welcome home #wally darling #wally welcome home #wally darling x reader #wally darling x y/n #wally loves you

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fulgurbugs · 4 days

Note

share with us some of your silly headcanons :)

hehe i got two asks about headcanons so im gonna make yours an OT1 post and the other one an OT2 post….

Ok for OT1 here’s a random list of

Alfyn is genuinely a very good artist, he’s spent a lot of time practicing (at first just trying to emulate drawings of medicinal plants working on his ability to understand and identity them) but it ended up just becoming a hobby of his, and he’s pretty good at drawing from life, he can just sit somewhere and draw the scene in front of him or a pretty accurate portrait. this contrasts with his completely illegible handwriting. (tressa specifically finds this baffling as a neat handwriting haver and a…. decent-ish artist. she mostly just likes to doodle. she’s like how can you draw that good and write that bad. tressa they’re different brain areas alright. they don’t translate to each other)

ok. nonbinary tressa. is so real to me. i feel like she’s nonbinary in the way where she doesn’t care about the way she’s gendered, like whatever cis passing she just doesn’t give a fuck, but inwardly she’s like. gender i hardly know her. doesn’t give a fuck kind of thing (ME PROJECTING ALERT) but as she gets older she starts to just have a tendency towards more masculine ways of dressing, keeping her hair shorter, etc. light androgyny. it kind of isn’t at the forefront of her mind tho.

Therion has like, a select few party-trickish skills that he basically never pulls out because they’re objectively useless in a fight or his work or whatever. and you know. he hasn’t really had the opportunity (or outward desire) to like. ever pull out the fact he can juggle or “is this your card” some shit. this is part of the two wolves inside therion (the nobody look at me wolf) vs (the show-off wolf) so even he’s like i don’t even know why the hell i bothered to learn to do this kind of crap. (it’s because he’s got a theatrical streak.)

ok and also i was also thinking abt this a while back from the worst poker game post, but here’s a ranking of how good i think everyone is

1. Therion (cheats, but even when he doesn’t he’s really good)

2. Olberic (experienced player)

3. H’aanit (really good poker face)

4. Ophilia (often underestimated opponent, and she knows it and uses this to her advantage.)

5. Primrose (good but not great)

6. Cyrus (understands all the strategies, but cannot execute and often isn’t able to read his opponents as well)

7. Alfyn (he’s better at reading other people, but unfortunately is basically incapable of looking neutral himself)

8. Tressa (though she, like cyrus, understands the game and what she should be doing, she lacks the experience to be deceptive, is easy to cheat against, etc. but give her some time and eventually she’ll figure it out and rise in the ranks. she can be molded into a champion eventually and win all the money. just not yet.

Here a bonus doodle for this one

#octopath #me and my bestie r constantly making like.#random ass category then rank the travelers lists. so much fun i love doing that

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hrts4wonu · 5 months

Note

minghaos who takes his time when drawing any portrait of you, making sure to get every detail of your beauty

a/n: oh my god jasmine??? i just started reading your fanfics last night and let me tell you, i was so damn obsessed; i'm not sure if this is a hard thought or anything but i did try to make it smut (with a little bit of fluff and comfort)

wc: 1.7k

today was like any other day. well, not technically. today was your boyfriend's project's due date. he was supposed to draw a portrait of the person that means a lot to him; though he first thought of his very own mother, he remembered the first few words you said when you met him.

(flashback)

those few sweet words that came out of your mouth like it was nothing; "i love your artstyle, maybe you should draw your future girlfriend, yeah?" you chuckle as he turned to look at you. "pardon?" he says, a little confused.

"i'm talking about me, hao." he laughs at your straightforwardness and displays a warm smile at you while he remains seated.

you laugh along comfortably, sitting next to him while staring at the canvas that was filled with colorful strokes of red, orange, yellow, blue and pink. "you assume too much, don't y'think?" he teased as he cups your cheeks, tucking your hair behind your ear. "well, you never know, do you?" both of you chuckle together before he picks up his paintbrush and finishes his artwork.

(end of flashback)

that was long ago, yet, the memory itself never fails to melt his heart. though, he couldn't deny; he has drew you before. a couple of times actually.

the problem was, all of them just seemed bad to him. he doodled and sketched your face everyday in class; thinking that everytime he drew you with a different pen or pencil, his sketches get more terrible each day. (and yet he still managed to get good grades even though he doesn't pay attention in class because he's always drawing you)

and so, he never showed you, until you found his sketchbook in his room on your 5th monthsary. he was pretty embarrassed about it, but your praises on his drawings were enough to boost his ego and confidence.

while he quietly sits down on his chair, staring into his computer, he slowly turns to look at you with a nervous smile on his face.

"darling," he starts off, standing up and approaching you on the bed. you hum in response, dropping your phone and looking back at him. "do you want to become my reference? it's for an art project."

you nod, changing your position on the bed. "what do you need me to wear? a dress, or--"

"need you nude, baby." the temptation from his voice was enough to electrify something inside of you; feeling a bit flustered from what he said. "..if you're comfortable with it, of course. i wouldn't want to make myself look like i'm into creepy things like this, yeah?" he adds. "if you really don't wanna, it's fi--"

"mm." you shook your head no. "it's fine," though it seemed aberrant to minghao (because of how much of a gentleman he is), the longing ache in you was basically killing you.

a few minutes later, you slowly got out of the bathroom with a robe on. you were nervous of him judging you, the way your body was built, your skin tone, or maybe that was just your neediness that's getting to you.

he puts on a smile and gives you a warm hug, "take it off when you're ready, hm?" minghao whispers in your ear, leaving a small kiss.

you nod, "yeah."

minghao slowly lets go and stands behind his canvas; squeezing out all the paint onto his palette. he quickly grabs his paintbrush and starts speaking up once more, "hey," he sat down on the tiny chair. "there's still time to back out if you're really not into thi--"

"minghao? is there something wrong?" you throw your robe to the side, crossing your arms which squished your tits from below a bit.

he shook his head, "no, not at all." he looks away and focuses back on his canvas.

minghao couldn't help but stare at you for a bit longer, he didn't know what to say or do at all. it's not like there is a problem- it's that you're there, with no clothes on, and you're on full display.

but besides that, you're gorgeous.

absolutely admirable and so, so, so, so, so beautiful. to him and only him. maybe even to the whole world.

countless hours pass by and minghao was finally done with his work, "baby?" he stands up and dusts his hands off.

"did you fall aslee- oh." you quietly let out muffled moans as you try fingering yourself on the sofa; if only you could see the greed and devotion in his eyes while he painted your figure, he would've dropped his paintbrushes to the floor and take care of you already.

the sweet smile on his face disappears and instead turns into a wicked yet sinister smirk.

minghao cups your cheeks. "let me help you baby, yeah?" he coos, crouching down to give you a soft kiss on the lips before falling onto his knees.

"p-please.." you beg, withdrawing your hand from your pussy but before you could wipe it on the couch, minghao grabs it and slides it in his mouth, licking your small digits that were unlike his long, veiny hands. "hao.." you whine at the sight.

"what is it, pretty girl?" he places his hands on both of your thighs, spreading them apart. "need me?"

you nod. "i've been longing, hao."

he starts kissing your inner thighs; wet lips enough to get you even wetter than you were 10 seconds ago. though your legs were now resting on his shoulder, he still had a firm grasp on them. his nails dug onto your skin, leaving temporary crescent-shaped nail marks onto them.

"so have i, darling." he replies, leaning in towards your pussy, his nose bumping with your clit.

you whine when you feel the pleasure; it's overwhelming, yes, but it feels so good that you can't even utter a single word. not even a single one, the only thing you can let out is a moan.

he licks your pussy's lips and starts eating you out, the sweet taste not leaving his tongue. "f..fuck, hao,"

"mind your language or i'm gonna leave you aching on this sofa, y/n." he threatens and you slightly look away in embarrassment when you saw his bloodthirsty eyes darken in lust. "you wouldn't want that, would you?" he leans back, away from you as the wind's cold breeze comes in contact with your skin.

you shook your head no gently, replying to his question. "well, it's not like you could ever leave me hanging like that, hao." you tease.

he scoffs; "there's always a first time for everything, sweetheart. you should know that." he stood up and quickly switches your position in missionary, pinning you down on the sofa and pressing your legs against your chest and his.

"but, hey." you look at him in confusion as he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. it was long and veiny, t'was so outstanding and beautiful. something so out of this world. "contrary to what mingyu said before," he breathes, fixing his position on top of you as he leans close enough to your ear. "most of the greatest works of art don't know how great they are not because they're unreal, instead, it's because they don't see the talent in the artist's eyes that were enough to make the painting as appealing as it already is." his hot breath against your ear makes you tremble, "you're just like an artwork, you know?" he teases.

"really?" he nods. "you think so?" your cute puppy eyes, begging and pleading for his angry, red tip was enough to send him to the edge but as punishment, he will make you wait longer.

after a few more minutes of teasing, he finally gives in and thrusts inside of you.

you moan loudly, holding onto his body, yet it seemed so unfair because you were basically naked and he still had his shirt on. "mm.." he looks at you, stopping his thrusting as he felt a little confused.

"what is it, hm?" you slowly tug at his shirt and he finally gets it. "ah, i see." he smirks and takes his shirt off.

he goes back to thrusting inside of you and you let out another moan, "m-mmh!"; he grunts as he thrusts even harder, not stopping for even a breath.

you squirm, putting your hand over your mouth to keep your mouth shut yet you can't help yourself but moan even louder. he notices this and he stops for a moment, leaving you hanging which made you ache for more (though it's not like he could pull out because your pussy was basically sucking him back in), grabbing your hand pinning them over your head as he fucks into you.

"h..hao!" you moan loudly as you felt him hitting that 'sweet spot' inside of you. "hao.." you breathe, starting to pant as your legs start trembling. "i-.. i'm so close.." you whine continuously as his hand lets go of your wrists, traveling down to your nipples.

he rubs them gently, leaning in and licking them clean. minghao does the same for the other breast making you moan and yearn for more;

"i..i'm gonna cum, please.." you beg.

"please what, baby?" he smirks, pulling his lips away from your lips and staring into your doe eyes. "tell me," he starts. "tell me what you need, i'll give you everything. every single thing just for you, my lovely, pretty girl."

you look at him with desire and thirst. "need to cum, please.."

everything was testing him; no, no, no.. that's not the right word, is it? let's try that again-- everything was arousing him. it felt like you were tormenting eachother using their own bodies. everything was so tempting to him, he couldn't help but give in; "cum for me, princess," he says with a smirk on his face. "do it, make me proud, okay?"

it wasn't that long until you reach your climax and you came on his cock. he helps you ride your orgasm until he reaches his, planting his seed inside of you.

the both of you catch your breathes together before he pulls out of you and places a warm, loving kiss on your temple; "come on, let's clean you up, hm?" despite being exhausted, you shot him a smile and he stood up, carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. "mhm.." you manage to say, still trying to catch your breath from what had just happened.

"hao, i love you." you say, with a smile on your face as you return his kiss back, instead, this time it was on his lips. "i love you too, baby."

a/n 2: sorry this took so long,, i had work and i was slightly busy.. but anyways, i'm FINALLY done! it didn't turn out how i expected it to be yet i still think it's a little better than what i usually write. besides that, i'm really, really glad to make a minghao fanfic so please ask / request for more <3

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crazychaoticizzy · 1 year

Text

Pretty Portraits

What happens when you, Kugisaki and Itadori find that Fushiguro left his journal behind?

WARNINGS: none. just pure fluff. maybe a tiny bit of angst if you squint really hard.

Word Count: 4.6k

Masterlist

You were just about to leave the booth, only to pause at the sight of a black notebook waiting on the seat. You recognized it at Fushiguro's journal, and when you flipped the cover to see the name written on the inside your suspicions were proved to be correct.

"Hey, Fushiguro forgot his notebook," you said to Itadori and Kugisaki. They both looked away from whatever they were doing, eyeing the notebook in your hands. "Do you guys remember where he said he was going?"

"Uhh, I don't think he actually said where he was going," Itadori said. "If we don't run into him in the school hallways, then we can just leave it in his room."

"Or." Kugisaki drew out the word, sidling up next to you. "We could take a little look inside. See what kind of a person Fushiguro really is."

"Isn't that an invasion of privacy?" Itadori asked.

"Not if he doesn't know."

"I don't think that's how that works," you pointed out.

"Come on, it'd just be a little peek. Besides, he's most likely a really boring person. He probably takes notes on techniques and how he can improve himself. If anything, this will be a learning experience for us if we decide to look through it.”

Kugisaki was right, there was nothing embarrassing in there. You know because you asked one day when he seemed especially invested in his journal. He showed you pages full of notes for different classes and a couple small doodles in the corner. Despite knowing this, you still didn’t want to look through it because you didn’t want to invade his personal belongings.

You shook your head, holding it out to Itadori. “No, I still don’t want to look through it.”

Kugisaki shrugged, taking it from Itadori’s hand and sitting back down in the booth the three of you had just left. She opened it, flipping past the first page, the one with Fushiguro’s name on it. “Okay. Then I’ll look through it and you two can just so happen to look through my shoulder.”

Damn loopholes, you thought. In all honesty, you were curious about what Fushiguro had added since you last saw the contents of the journal.

Despite your better judgement, you sat down beside Kugisaki.

It was just as you had expected, notes about Fushiguro’s classes for a good chunk of the journal. When Kugisaki got tired of staring at Fushiguro’s neat handwriting, she let out a breath and closed it, opening it again to a random page.

More writing, but this page was accompanied by a portrait that looked eerily familiar. The name of the person drawn was on the top of your tongue when Itadori suddenly said something.

”Hey, that kinda looks like Y/n, don’t you think?”

You were way off. You were going to say it looked like a fictional character you had told Fushiguro about a while ago.

”Oh my gosh, this is a letter!” Kugisaki exclaimed. “Hold on it starts in the middle of it on this page.”

Kugisaki flipped back a couple pages, finding that the letter was longer than anticipated. She found the beginning, a grand three pages front and back away from the drawing, and started quietly reading.

”’Y/n, I doubt I’ll ever give this to you or say anything about this, but just know that this is for you.’ Holy shit is this a love letter?”

”Wow.” Itadori stared at the page in awe. “I didn’t think he’d actually write it.” He took the book from Kugisaki’s grasp, flipping through a couple pages.

”You knew about this and didn’t think to tell me?” Kugisaki yelled. She was shushed by a nearby waiter, and she quieted down.

”Fushiguro asked me not to tell anyone, so I didn’t.” Itadori shrugged. “He told me forever ago about this, said he wanted to give it to you when he finished it, but I guess he never did because look at the date.”

He pointed to the corner of the page, where the written date was almost exactly four months ago.

”Damn,” Kugisaki said. “He must have been super inspired about something to write this. Listen, he quoted a couple books. ‘You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.’ God damn, he really used that Pride and Prejudice quote.”

Itadori continued flipping through the pages, now laying the notebook flat on the table for the three of them to see it.

there were multiple pages filled with drawings of you. The pages filled with notes from class were almost completely gone, being replaced by your portraits and short writings accompanied by this reminded me of them to the side.

You stared as they continued flipping through the pages, watching as the drawings improved. The last one was of your side profile, laughing as you held a straw to your lips, about to drink from it. You realized it was from today, and softly ran your fingers over the drawing.

So that’s what he was doing this whole time.

Since that was the last page with anything on it, Itadori closed it and slid it across the table back to you. You didn’t move to touch it, only continued to stare at it.

”Y/n? You okay there?”

You nodded in the general direction of Itadori, moving your hand to grab the black journal. “Yeah. Uh, I’ll take this back to Fushiguro, if you don’t mind. I know you two are busy later anyways.”

Neither of them objected. You assumed this was a situation where they both knew something you didn’t and were most likely over the moon that Fushiguro was finally going somewhere.

You may not be the smartest, but you could definitely piece things together when you’re given enough. You were still unsure, though, so you didn’t want to confront him about it right away.

—

Your knuckles rapped against the wood of Fushiguro’s door, and you gently tapped your fingers against the surface of the black notebook in your hands as you waited for him to answer.

The noise of the door unlocking and opening threw you off guard. It was such a stark contrast to the quiet hallway, and your thoughts had drifted elsewhere completely.

You noticed that Fushiguro stood a little bit straighter when he saw it was you. You briefly wondered if he always did that, or if he only did it for you.

You pushed the thought from your mind not wanting to think about it now.

You took in what he was wearing—gray sweatpants and a black sweater. He looked like he was about to go to bed. It was still early, but you couldn’t blame him. Despite them being your best friends, hanging out with Kugisaki and Itadori could get tiring.

”Uhm, you left this at the booth earlier,” you awkwardly said, holding out the journal to him. “I wanted to bring it back.”

He gently took it from your grasp. “Thanks.”

He didn’t close the door. Instead, he tossed the book to his bed and stepped further outside his room, leaning against the doorframe.

”Where else did you guys go? After I left, I mean,” he said.

”Oh, we just kind of walked around Tokyo for a bit,” you replied. You hid your hands behind your back, playing with your fingers. “We went into a bookstore but didn’t buy anything. We kind of lost Kugisaki and Itadori was summoned by Gojo.”

Fushiguro nodded thoughtfully, putting his hands in his pockets.

You wanted to ask about the drawings in the journal before he continued talking, but you weren’t sure how to bring it up without making it blatantly obvious that you had gone through it. You decided to take a shot, letting your inner self decide what you said.

”Uhm, it fell and I saw some of your drawings,” you said. “Your notebook, I mean. They were really good. I didn’t know you liked doing that.”

Fushiguro’s eyes widened for a brief moment before he returned to his usual stoic expression. His face changed so fast you almost didn’t notice it, but the way he brought his hand up to scratch the side of his neck—one of his nervous ticks you had noticed—told you everything.

”Yeah, I picked it up a few months ago,” he replied. “I do it sometimes at the end of the day to wind down. It helps me relax.”

You nodded. You weren’t sure how to continue the conversation, but you still wanted to know if your suspicion about why he drew you so much was correct.

”Oh, that’s cool. Itadori saw the drawing and said it looked like me,” you decided to say.

”Did he now?” You had caught him with his pants down. He reached up to gently scratch his neck again. “Well, it might have been you. I draw you sometimes for practice. You have a pretty face for that.”

He paused at his own words, crossing his legs at the ankles. He hoped you didn’t notice his wording.

You did. And this time you were the one caught off guard.

”Thank you,” you said. “If that was a compliment. Thanks for saying I have a pretty face.”

He nodded once. “Yeah.”

Awkward silence ensued again. You weren’t sure how much longer you could beat around the bush for. This same routine had randomly started one day and continued almost daily for months. It was annoying, and you wanted it to end.

So you decided to take a leap of faith.

“Uhm, I actually brought that up because I think I know something, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions.”

An indirect leap of faith, but a leap of faith nonetheless.

Fushiguro was listening to you, you could tell because he was looking directly at you, into your eyes. It made you nervous, and you almost brushed off what you were about to say and walked away.

“So, I wanted to tell you my feelings first. And then you could decide how you feel about them. If you want to, that is.”

“Yeah, of course. Do you wanna come inside?” He motioned towards his room. “To get more comfortable, if you want.”

You nodded, following him in. “Sure.”

He gently closed the door behind you, leaving it open a crack before sitting on the bed with you. It was silent for a few moments before he motioned for you to speak.

You took a breath. “So, I’ve been debating telling you this for a while, I just haven’t. But with Kugisaki and Itadori earlier I decided that I should.” You paused for a moment, putting together the next sentence in your head before you said it. “I kind of like you. Like a lot.” You paused again, deciding that was all you needed to say and shrugging with your hands.

You seemed a lot cooler with this confession that you though you would be. You thought you would be a stuttering mess, trying to beat around the bush so much you wouldn’t even know what you were saying. But you didn’t, instead you feigned outward calmness, but you could feel your heart pounding violently against your chest.

Fushiguro’s eyebrows raised as he took in the information.

The action worried you, because he didn’t move for a few moments after that. You sat, waiting for his response. You almost apologized and excused yourself from his room, meaning to hide in your dorm for a couple days until you would be able to face him again, before he gave you a small smile. He stood up, sauntering over to his dresser and opening the top drawer.

When he closed it and turned around, he revealed a square of white paper and held it out to you. You took it, realizing it was an envelope.

“Open it.”

You did as Fushiguro said while he moved across the room, this time opening the bottom drawer of his desk and pulling out a stack of papers along with a small notebook.

You took the paper out of the envelope as he continued what he was doing, opening the folded sheet.

It was a letter. Addressed to you.

You started reading. It had a similar structure as the one you read from his journal earlier, using some of the same wordings and comparisons.

Fushiguro assumed his previous spot on the bed next to you, setting the papers and notebook down beside him. He watched intently as you read the letter, not saying a word as he took in your reaction to his written words.

You were speechless reading it. You didn’t know he could be so wordy and poetic. He never said much. You assumed that he was just a quiet person that didn’t have much to say. Someone that liked observing more than contributing to conversations.

Your assumptions were mostly correct. Except you didn’t realize he noticed or had this much to say. It shocked you, and you weren’t sure what kind of response would match his words.

You were genuinely shocked that he shared the same feelings. You assumed that the dry conversations between the two of you had started because he found out about you liking him. You thought he found that awkward.

But this letter, an explanation for all those awkward moments between the two of you.

Apparently he thought the same thing you did.

Your eyes quickly drifted over the words when you finished. You truly didn’t know what to say, and figured at least trying to form a response in your head would be best.

Your mind drew a blank on what to say. But you had to say something. You would see Fushiguro getting anxious for your response.

When you looked up to meet Fushiguro’s gaze, he was staring at you. You smiled at him, deciding to speak truthfully about what was going through your head.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered. “This is the most beautiful writing I’ve ever read. Do you really mean everything?”

“Every single word,” he responded. He handed you a piece of notebook paper from the top of the pile he had brought over. “This was my first drawing of you. I just did it without thought one day and continued. You’re really the only thing I draw.”

You gently took the paper from his grasp, looking it over, admiring the graphite lines, imagining the way his eyes might have followed his pencil, focused.

“Are all of these . . .” You motioned towards the stack of papers beside you, and Fushiguro nodded before you finished your question. “Wow . . .”

You were in awe, returning your gaze to the piece of notebook paper before looking at a couple more.

Fushiguro gently took the paper you held from your hand, putting it aside and taking both of your hands in his. He reached for your jaw, softly redirecting the way your head was turned so you looked directly into his eyes.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Y/n. I want to be more than friends.” There was a small amount of fear in his eyes. He was terrified you would reject him, despite already knowing how you felt.

Your eyes were wide, your mouth slightly agape. He hadn’t even said anything monumentally heart-wrenching, but just the sound of his voice could leave you speechless.

“Do you really want that?” You quietly asked.

He nodded with complete confidence in his answer. “I do.”

You couldn’t help the smile that overcame your features as you gently squeezed his hand. “Okay. I want that too.”

He didn’t kiss you, and you didn’t kiss him. Not yet. It wasn’t the right moment, and he wanted it to be perfect. So he didn’t kiss you, even though he desperately wanted to. Wanted nothing more than to feel your lips against his, to run his hands through your hair.

Not yet, he told himself. He could wait just a little bit longer.

—

You and Fushiguro (you’re proud to call him Megumi now, even though you still get flustered when you say his name) had been dating for weeks. By now, the news of your relationship had spread to the other first years, who spent a short amount of time exchanging money before congratulating and bombarding the two of you with questions.

Tonight was the first night the two of you had alone since you had gotten together. Itadori and Kugisaki were out, and Gojo was currently over seas for a mission. You and your boyfriend spent the night in the middle of the training field on a couple blankets, snuggling as you stargazed. Though, you weren’t doing much stargazing, instead talking while he showed you his most recent portrait of you.

You were asleep in the drawing, your arm resting under your head as you gripped the blanket in your hands. You were embarrassed he had caught such a moment. He interlocked his pinky with yours, moving your hands from your face as he told you it was cute.

He left a soft kiss on your knuckle, pulling you to sit up with him as he grabbed his journal.

“Can you look at the sky for me?” he asked.

You obliged with a smile on your face, looking at the sky as you began counting stars.

Fushiguro had recently become more open when drawing you. He had asked you to pose for him more, occasionally gently nudging you into the exact position he wanted. He even sometimes did so in front of Itadori and Kugisaki without shame.

You listened as his pencil rubbed against the paper, enjoying the sound. You snuck a glance at him, turning your head to watch as his eyes followed his pencil along the page. Eventually he looked up at you, smiling before he put his hand under your chin, redirecting your gaze.

You apologized with a light chuckle. He continued his drawing, the sounds of his pencil returning. “You’re just so pretty when you draw,” you said.

You heard his pencil suddenly stop. You turned to look at him to find that he was already staring intently at you.

You peeked at the drawing in his notebook, noticing the vague background. “Oh, are you adding a background to this one?”

He moved his gaze to his lap. “Yeah, I like drawing you at night. The sky reminds me of you.”

“How so?”

He took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. “Well, I realized that you weren’t the sun in my sky.” You raised your eyebrows at him. “I say that because I’ve only ever squinted angrily at the sun. I don’t do that with you. No, I stare at you in wonder and look away when you meet my eyes. I smile when I see you and watch your every action in awe of what you do. I want you to always be present. To be there to help me calm down because just seeing you lifts weight off my shoulders when I’m stressed. Before I met you it was the night sky that did that. It was the night sky that I wished would stay, that I wanted to see to help calm me down.”

Megumi Fushiguro was the only person in the world that could make you speechless, not knowing how to react. And he didn’t even know he was the only person that held this power.

You could feel your eyes burning with tears. He’s constantly moving the bar higher, constantly speaking his mind around you in the most beautiful, poetic way imaginable, constantly taking you by surprise with his words.

You feel bad for never having anything to say in response to him, but he understands how you feel. You usually find yourself replying to him with a tight hug, squeezing him as though if you let go he would disappear.

But tonight, you truly didn’t know what to do.

Watching as your hand moves to cover your mouth, your hand lightly squeezing his own, something in his brain decides that now is the right time. Now is the best time.

He takes a leap, moving his hand to cup your jaw as he gazes into your eyes. His eyes briefly flicker to your lips before he’s slowly leaning in, giving you a chance to reject him if you want.

You don’t reject him. You let him kiss you, freezing as his soft lips met yours. Your eyes were closed, but you didn’t know what to do.

He pulled away, a faint smile painting his lips. “You have to kiss me back, dummy.”

“Sorry,” you apologized. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

He hummed, leaning forward ever so slightly, his lips ghosting yours. “It’s okay.” He kisses you again. This time you kiss back, moving your hand to grip his bicep as if to pull him closer to you.

When you momentarily break the kiss he chases your lips, making you chuckle into the kiss.

“Megumi,” you whispered. He hummed, trying to reach your lips again, making you smile brightly. “Gumi, give me a second.”

He stopped, still holding your hand. “What happened?” Worry was laced in his voice, scared he had done something wrong.

“Nothing, just give me a second.”

You grabbed the notebook from his lap, moving the ribbon to mark the page he was drawing on, closing it and moving it to the side as you shifted closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. He tentatively placed his hands on your waist as you kissed him again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to try and bring him even closer.

When the kiss broke, this time neither of you moving to kiss the other again, your foreheads rested together as you simply basked in each other’s presence.

He felt the overwhelming urge to say it, something he had been thinking about for a long time. He’s not sure what took possession of him, but the words, “I love you,” were slipping out of his mouth before he could even process it.

Your eyes snapped open, and you pulled away from him just a little bit. He did as well, bringing a hand to cover his face as he began apologizing profusely, saying that he didn’t mean to say that.

The smile that was slowly growing on your face fell. You knew that sometimes his thoughts got jumbled together, making it somewhat difficult to voice them. This had to be one of those situations, but hearing him say he didn’t mean it made your heart crack.

He seemed to realize his words, because he cut himself off, going into another tangent.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I do mean that, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he admitted. “I don’t want to force you to jump into things too early. If you don’t feel the same way then don’t say it back. Tell me and I won’t say it again until you want me to, I promise.”

His words pulled at your heartstrings. All he wanted was to make sure you were comfortable with the relationship, but in the process he disregards his own feelings. It hurt you. You wanted him to be open, to allow himself to be vulnerable around you, even if it was just for a few minutes.

“Megumi, I want you to share your thoughts with me. It doesn’t matter what it is, if you want to tell me something then tell me. You won’t make me uncomfortable, I promise.” You leaned forward again, capturing him between your arms and squeezing him. “Because I love you, too. I have for a while. I want you to be comfortable with me. I want to be someone you can talk to, your rock. Please share things with me.”

You felt him wrap his arms around you, squeezing you with just as much force as you were. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath. He loved the way you smelled—lavender, curtesy of the products Kugisaki had bought you for your birthday.

“I know your trying,” you said into his shoulder, “and I love that you’re letting your walls down for me. I’ll wait for you to open up for me, I don’t care how long it takes. I want to know everything about you, I want to love everything about you. Take as long as you need, I’ll still be here. I promise.”

The two of you stayed in your embrace. You felt your heart pounding in your ears as you awaited his reply, hoping you didn’t take it too far.

He gently kissed your collarbone, knocking both of you over so you laid on the blanket. You quietly yelped upon impact, not expecting the action.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. You smiled, readjusting your position so you faced him. You wrapped your arms around him, running your hands through his black hair.

“You smell so good,” he said suddenly, making you laugh. “I love the way you smell.”

You thanked him, feeling your eyes droop. You snapped them open, hoping to stay awake just a little longer, hoping you would be able to spend just a few more seconds with Fushiguro in this moment.

Alas, you fell asleep, but not before you quietly said, “I love you, Megumi,” into his hair.

He smiled at your words, repeating them before he realized you were already fast asleep. He grabbed a blanket from nearby, throwing it over the two of you as he admired your sleeping face before he dozed off as well.

—

You awoke the next morning to a blinding light being shone in your face, followed by the shutter of a camera. You groaned, opening your eyes and yawning before seeing what was happening.

It was no surprise when you saw Gojo, accompanied by Kugisaki and Itadori, standing above you and your still sleeping boyfriend.

“Oops, I forgot to turn off flash,” Gojo said.

You rolled your eyes before closing them again, resuming your previous sleeping position and closing your eyes. “Leave us alone,” you muttered.

You felt Fushiguro stir next to you, assuming he was awake when he let out an exasperated breath.

“See, we would leave you alone. However the second years need to train and you two love bugs are lying in the middle of the field.”

You groaned, forcing yourself to sit up along with Fushiguro. You shooed the other three away as you started picking up your things with your boyfriend, stacking the blankets and taking them from Fushiguro’s grasp as you stood. He followed suit, and the two of you ignored your classmates and teacher as you walked towards the dorms.

“We don’t have anything to do today, right?” you asked.

Fushiguro nodded. “It’s just a day off.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “I think I’m just gonna go back to sleep, then.”

Fushiguro took hold of one of your hands, the one that wasn’t carrying the blankets. “Do you mind if I join you?”

You let out a fake, exaggerated gasp. “A boy in my dorm? How scandalous, don’t you think?” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Of course you can. I’d love it if you did.”

He smiled at you, continuing the walk to your dorm. Upon entering, you plopped the blankets down in a random area o the floor, continuing to drag Fushiguro onto the bed and under your covers.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” you said as the two of you readjusted yourselves. “I’m normally the only one that comes in here.”

“It’s fine,” he whispered, kissing the crown of your head. “Just go to sleep.”

You nodded against his shoulder. “I love you.”

He smiled into your hair. “I love you, too.”

And the two of you would continue saying that. At every chance you got. You would never allow the other to forget that fact for as long as you lived.

This was a late birthday present for one of my friends. Anyways as i was writing I was seriously debating turning the fic in a different direction and going down an angst route. I don’t know I might add a part two to this or something because I do have ideas.

Idk what do y’all think?

Also this was copy and pasted from my notes app so I apologize if it doesn’t look right 💀

#fanfic #writing #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk megumi #jjk x y/n #megumi x y/n #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #izzy’s imagines ❀

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