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dzpenumbra · 11 months

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6/3/23

Despite being up super late, I slept a full 8 hours. I did yoga... kinda. I grazed on leftovers all day.

I'm just gonna level, I'm super depressed. And kinda aimless. I feel deeply deflated. Like... what's the fucking point? Like... if every goddamn thing that I set my sights on, people just talk me out of... what's the point?

I swear to god, if half the energy that people around me put into talking me out of my goals was put into actually supporting me and helping me work towards them? I might actually have something sustainable here. I might be something.

Instead, I just... make things. And put them on a shelf. And they gather dust. And I move on to the next thing. And I'm just fucking cowering here scared to even reach out and --- I just don't know what to do anymore.

My feeling of being an impostor is... I'm struggling to find the right way to phrase this... all-encompassing. Hard to see past. I feel like I'm literally the only person in the world that sees what I do, and what I want to do, as being legitimate ways to spend a human life. I feel like any time I try to explain what my goals are, or what inspires me, or what I see as my purpose in life... I get side-eye glares and suspicion, or eye rolls. Like... if someone asked me what my goals are, their next question is naturally going to be, "but what are you really going to do?" "But what are you going to do to support that hobby?"

Don't you find it weird that some people... when they say "I love dinosaurs, and I have since I was a kid, and I just want to dig up dinosaur bones and study them for a living" people go... "you should be a paleontologist!" And others go... "okay, you can dick around with your dinosaur shit in your free time, what are you going to do for work though?"

I'm upsetting myself. And I'm conflicted. I feel like I need to vent thoughts like this to get them out... but I don't want to linger on them, or let my mind have free reign to go to such stressful places. I feel like I should vent and let go at the same time, and I'm really not sure which is the healthier option.

I guess I should just talk about the insecurity part. I don't see myself as an artist that is going to get into a gallery. Or an artist that is going to be able to open up a shop or something. I don't. Not now. And I don't know what I'm doing wrong about that. I feel like I work a lot, and I just don't feel like I have a lot to show for it, and I really don't know why. I don't know if that's in my head, or if I'm actually not as prolific as I think I am. And I feel like I've been in this line of thought thousands of times. And maybe... maybe it's a result of being the scattered multimedia artist that I am. Maybe that's it.

See... I think of artists that I follow on Instagram. Like this chick Polina Bright, for example. She's a watercolor artist from AU, she has a very distinct style, she is constantly putting out new work and she seems quite successful. It seems very coherent what she does, if you look at her page. Like... if you were a gallery, and you looked at that, you would know what you're getting. I... don't feel that way. I don't feel like my work speaks the same way, and I feel like it makes it so much harder for me. I'm all over the map. My last projects were an inked goat skull, a hand-painted hoodie with my astrology chart on it, a concept performance piece done in Minecraft that I animated in Blender and turned into an 11 minute video, hand-shaped and polished stones, handmade jewelry. I mean... there are common themes between all of it... for me. It makes sense... to me... it's all part of an ever-unfolding evolutionary process... but without that context, I feel like it's kinda lost and scattered. I don't know. I struggle to articulate the thoughts I have here.

And I think that's just because of my upbringing. The compulsion to justify, because... I'm different. Because I'm not... the guy who does that one thing. And this dates back all the way back to college. I originally went to college as a... recovering graffiti artist who wanted to improve his craft. I was in a community college, after having failed out of art TWICE in high school because I was inspired to do a project that didn't fit into the guidelines of what was expected... aka... was creative... ... ... Let's just keep walking past that one... XD I took Drawing in community college when I was getting back into school, and I was by far the best artist in the class. To the point where people were intimidated by me. And I have no clue how, I just drew a lot as a kid and doodled a lot as a young adult. Compulsively, actually, I would entirely fill the margins in my notebooks in school, and the covers and everything. I'd have entire pages full of doodles and designs. When I took the drawing class, it sparked a vast improvement in my skill. It gave me focus and direction, and also opened more doors than just... designing tags and shit. Which... I mean, there was that teenage adrenaline thrill to it, but beyond that... I grew out of graffiti pretty quick.

I wanted to... say something. I was still very young and didn't really know... what I wanted to say... But I knew I wanted to do more with my art than just spraypaint my name on the side of a parking garage or under a bridge or something. And my music helped me with that. Comparing my art to my music, where my music was very... confessional, and personal... very honest and intuitive. In a genre - hip-hop/rap - that was/is utterly consumed with egocentrism, narcissism, greed and hedonism. I was much more concerned with conveying a message of... how I experienced the world. Which is vastly different than that. So... the whole... just tagging my name on a wall thing... it didn't really mesh.

When I transferred into the college that I eventually graduated from, I went with the intentions of having a focus in drawing. Graffiti-style and tattoo style artwork was what I was hoping to get into at the time, but I was still blooming beyond that. --- I'm wondering why I'm going down memory lane right now... Then I glanced over and saw the old sketchbook from my college Drawing class sitting on the desk. Its only half-full, and I pulled it because I wanted to just make myself draw tonight. Just not think and just draw. I ended up just looking through it and not using it, and drawing another abstract ink piece instead. I'm glad I got that piece done, but yeah... that's likely where this is coming from.

Instead of going beat-by-beat here, let me skip to the point. I started experimenting in college with a variety of styles. And I went from designing tags to... my final projects were a piece that was my first ever guitar on which I painted an image from a recurring dream (which got called "not real art" in a critique by a guest artist) and a skate video I made with my friends. In that span, I did pieces in ink on cloth, I did tons of acrylic work on all kinds of wood, I did pieces drawn in oil pastel on cardboard, I did an acrylic piece that I set on fire and threw fake blood all over. I've always been all over the map. I love exploring, I love trying new things and bringing my perspective from other disciplines with me. I can play like 5 fucking instruments. I really think it's just... part of who I am. And every time I try to just repeat the same fucking thing over and over... like my realistic colored pencil bird drawings, or my mandalas, or my abstract ink pieces, or my necklaces, or portraiture. Whatever it is, if I just do the same thing for like 6 months straight... I end up just... getting burnt out. Every time.

And here's the thing. This is so hard to explain to non-creatives, so please bear with me if you can't relate. I don't feel like I choose my projects. In fact, I feel like when I do choose my projects... it feels forced. Some of my worst and most contrived work has been when I try to craft something that appears inspired. Something I seek out, rather than something that seeks out me. Again, hard to accurately describe.

I'm gonna level here. I feel like I'm bullshitting, even when I'm not. It's an anxiety/trauma thing, I know, but man... it feels so fucking real. Have you ever seen a video of someone that you know for a fact (because it came out later) is lying on stand in court, or lying to a police officer or something? Or someone lying in a job interview? That's the kinda feeling I have. That I'm being perceived that way, even though I'm legitimately being genuine. And the reason why I feel that way? Because I have been viewed that way my entire life. Like I'm lying, like I'm cheating. Like I'm making excuses and calling what I do "legitimate", when really, I'm just making up an excuse to dick around and play on someone else's hard-earned dime. Like how I'm sure much of the older generation viewed people who got into the field of video games - either in broadcasting, playing professionally, or even development. They would worship Hollywood actors, even directors and shit. But people who worked on some of the most successful and innovative entertainment media in the history of mankind? They're "cheating". They're just "trying to get paid to sit on their ass and play games all day." Meanwhile, they go watch the Super Bowl, where grown men run around in tights and throw a ball across a field and hit each other trying to stop them from bringing the ball down the field... and they do this full-time, and get paid a literal fortune to do so. Figure that shit out.

I think people just want to make other people miserable. I think miserable people just want to make other miserable people miserable like them... or more miserable, to make them feel better about themselves. And it's a damn shame that so many people have felt it necessary to stomp on my dreams, my purpose... rather than helping lift me up and help me connect... simply because they gave up on their dreams.

I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's making me go from frustrated to sad. And the big wave of depression hits when... I bring in the fact that I've been "technically" unemployed for the past 10 years while I pursued all of this. And... it's been for nothing. I have no references, no friends, and no resume. I'm pretty all-in. So... yeah. Not fun when I feel that threatened, or when I'm told that it's just... not going to work.

I really need to let this go. It doesn't really contribute anything towards moving my life forward. It's just rehashing the same frustrations and yelling at the same old ghosts haunting my life.

Despite my upset with it yesterday, I spent most of the day on Twitch. Even watching that same streamer. Partially because I just couldn't really sit with my depression, partially because I didn't want my anxiety last night to "win".

I spent a good chunk of the evening trying to make music. Without success. There are barriers between me and my muse right now, which makes these times especially difficult to bear. At times when I could most use a creative product to demonstrate to myself "look, see this? You are talented, you are good at this, this is worth it, keep going." Those are the times I am most disconnected from my inspiration. Typically, at least. Sucks.

Anyway, here's my fuck you to my depression. Despite how absolutely emotionally shitty I felt all day, I played music for a long time, and I started and completed an ink piece. That's good. That's big. And I texted the family friend back and it was 100% fine, as predicted. So... today wasn't bad. It was actually... pretty on par, a pretty normal day. But man, getting trauma set off really makes it feel like I survived a fucking warzone today or something. Today felt like a fucking battle.

Ugh, okay, enough of that. I'm gonna move on to tarot for the night.

Past - Knight of Swords, inverted (Clarity from confusion. Rugged, fierce, determined, logical. Deliverer of answers, but frank to a fault.) Present - II: The High Priestess (The Subconscious. Spiritual enlightenment. The power of unseen forces to manifest creation. Ruler of the night and daughter of the Moon, so her work is often mysterious, hidden or unexpected.) Future - 0: The Fool, inverted (A new adventure. Something new on the horizon. A leap of faith.)

Man, I got that same pushback again. That whole... "I don't wanna do this" towards tarot. And the reasoning for that? I drew the same two cards I got yesterday, and I... reshuffled. Yep, I did. I never do that. But this time, I did. My inner skeptic came out and was just like... "inverted Page of Cups again, huh..." I have no idea how I can shuffle and cut a deck of 78 cards like 3 times and still somehow draw two consecutive repeat cards in the same position... So yeah, just putting that out there, because it made this new pull feel... "less genuine". But yeah, I'm just gonna move past that because it's really unnecessary stress.

The origin of this thread is the inverted Knight of Swords - a similar vein as the Queen of Swords from last night, but... more a rogue-like and inexperienced manifestation of it. Since it's inverted, this can be a blunt and possibly crude delivery of answers, that is not well received. Either rough delivery to me, or me delivering it and it going very poorly. That's just one action manifested by this symbol, what's really important is the... personality that comes through here. It's someone witty and determined, and it just isn't clicking? Something isn't going right with it?

That thread connects to... the High Priestess. The agent of the Subconscious, disciple of the Moon. She is the embodiment of a balance between the masculine and feminine nature; she is the gatekeeper of the soul, the mind and the heart. Pretty impressive resume, no? XD As far as I can see, she represents the influence of the Subconscious, being a transformative force in your life. Again, working through the power of the Moon, so... in mysterious and often confusing ways.

And that connects to... The Fool, inverted. The Fool is the symbol of new beginnings. The Fool has a connotation (you know, because they're a fool...) of being sorta, inept and aloof. The image is literally them walking off a cliff with their eyes closed. But it represents a leap of faith. For better or worse, a leap of faith, leaving the past behind and moving forward to a new adventure.

Now, to tie this all together. Something dysfunctional having to do with a smart, witty, confident persona... led to a spiritual enlightenment... but... this is enlightenment is delaying, or stalling, or even blocking the progression of a new adventure. For better or worse.

On a grand scale... I can see that narrative relating to my life. I used to be much more witty and confident and... rogue-like... I see a lot of that past part of my persona in this streamer I've been watching. Back in my late 20's, I was like that. And then... a combination of me trying to evolve into more of a homebody and then suffering great loss... it made me turn inwards, and invited me to connect with the Subconscious. And I did, for a long time. And it completely revolutionized how I perceive and live life, in totality. But the flip side to that coin... is that I deeply struggle to manifest that confidence that I used to have. I had the confidence to get on a plane to Las Vegas (for the first time ever) without a booked hotel room, banking on a stranger I only knew from chat rooms to let me crash in their room. Now that is a really clear demonstration of The Fool, right there! And hell, it was absolutely an adventure! But I've been struggling to manifest enough confidence to... go to the skatepark, when I'm the old guy there now. Or go for a walk into town, because I'm afraid I'll get robbed. And I feel like that's kinda... sabotaging... or stalling my ability to move on into a new phase of life.

And honestly? I don't know what that next phase is going to be. I think that's kinda the trouble. I think that's kinda been the trouble since the beginning. I want to be a trail steward, and also learn about permaculture and ancient lost Aztec farming techniques that we're just now starting to figure out, and I want to go on archaeological digs and find ancient relics, and make Zen Gardens (real ones), and make snowskating videos. I want to do all of it. Because life is short, and I don't want to waste my life chained down in a contractual obligation as a laborer. I have so much I need to do. And I want to share it all. I want to experience and learn and grow, and share that experience, tell that story. Just like I'm doing here.

Oh fuck. ... Am I a writer?

...

oh no...

I thought being an artist was rough.

Okay, that's enough existential crisis for one night. I gotta get to bed. It's nice and cool out tonight, a nice cool breeze has been wafting in all night. A welcome change after it being insanely hot and having the windows closed all day because they were spraying for bugs.

I think it might be time for me to bring meditation back into the picture, and maybe create a bit more space away from Twitch. Just for a bit. Not cold-turkey, because the shock of that might make this existential crisis much worse, but... dialing it back a bit. I need to find peace again. I'm noticing how frustrated and frantic my thoughts have been, and... I just don't think that's the best mindset to be in when making important life decisions. And... there's no rush!

Maybe I can go for a nice walk or something tomorrow, that could be nice. And gather some wood, if I can find any, to do some carving. That's been calling me lately. I have this idea of taking wood branches, or small stumps... and cutting them width-wise and hollowing out the top to make like... a cup? Like that shape. And carving the outsides decoratively, maybe adding in ink staining or even wood-burning for decoration, and then planting succulents in them. Or even little moss gardens or something, I don't know. I think it could be a cool idea.

Anyway, bed time. Bye.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

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pixelatedrose · 3 years

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ro! hello :D ! first off, i adore your new pfp, it’s so lovely!! the flowers add just enough color and it balances it all out so nicely, it’s just really really cool. and! your ranboo and michael art!! i know i’ve already said this, but you are so incredible at traditional art. the shading is amazing and all the colors go together so nicely and i love ranboo’s boots and his little memory book holder and michael’s whole outfit and the wall- dude :0 ! i love this little wall so much!! the flowers and leaves coming out of it along with it being multi-colored adds so much life into it and it’s just wonderful. i really like the wall :) anywho! i hope you’ve been having a great day and it only gets better from here! love you, big man 💛 !!

Bee!!! Hullow~!! :D

Fist off, thank you!! I'm really happy with the way my pfp turned out, especially since pixel art isn't usually my forte- or at least not my first pick of a medium. So I'm very very happy to hear it came together just as well as I hoped it had!! :D

As for the Michael and Ranboo picture; also thank you!!! There were definitely things i forgot *cough cough* ranboo and michael's tails *cough cough* but I'm super happy to hear that it looks good from an outside perspective!! It was a bit different from what I normaly try- both in the field of motion and character, since I've hardly ever drawn more than one character in a picture, and if i do they tend not to interact with one another- but i too was very very pleased with how it turned out!! I'm also very glad to see you like the wall!! Drawing inanimate objects is NOT my strong suit in the slightest- i am not much of an architect lol- but like you, again, i was very happy with how it turned out :]

As far as today- it's been quite a wonderful day!! I don't have any zoom meetings on Wednesdays, so I got to sleep in a lil bit, I watched Howl's Moving Castle with my lil sis and now I'm working on a big watercolor landscape for my art class

This is the landscape if you're interested lol

Haven't gotten far as you can see :/

All in all I've had a lovely little day!! Thank you for checkin in with me, Bee!! I ADORE hearing from you so much, my friend! I love you too, and i hope you're having an excellent day as well ;D

#spooky-scary-bumblebees #ask me things #Bee!!!#my art #don't repost my art please #watercolors stress me out sm lol #they're just so FINICKY MAN #i love to look at watercolors but actually painting in them makes me all stress sksndjsjs

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

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buncha kisses

warnings: mature language, Good music mention, slight suggestive content, lotta name calling!, basically just fluff

tags: sapnap x fem!reader (a continuation of [renamed from “a collection of moments at the beginning of your relationship”] win for me, basically, with college!au)

words: 1447

A/N: a very sweet anon requested a continuation of college!au with sappy and had some great ideas for me! i love when you guys interact and talk with me pls continue to do so! been receiving a lot of really encouraging attention from some of my favorite people (ahem, for example @strawberrymilkgeorge [among others] <3) so i just wanted to say thanks for that :)

It’s a sticky day in May.

It’s that kind of hot that irritates under the skin and works its way through the hair on your arms. Makes you want to either rip your skin off or sink into a pool full of ice.

May is a month that Florida doesn’t take very well; it’s either raining like it’s the Great Flood, or hot as a mosquito’s ball sack.

And to make matters worse, it’s the due date of a huge calculus project. Like— weighted heavier than the final kind of huge.

You’d gotten up three hours before your final at 9 just to cram. Your desk was littered with folders, chapter notes, and highlighters dull with use. A half-eaten bagel was off to the side, staling by the second.

That was before your AC broke. Yup. Broke. Ka-put. Just full on died—it was almost audible. Your roommate had stumbled into your room, face creased with sleep, and cursed for thirty seconds straight.

Completely understandable, actually.

But you didn’t have time to fret about the damn temperature. You just took your shirt off, kicked the box fan near your bed into the highest gear, and breathed hot anger down into your notes.

The only relief you would find would be lunch with Sapnap after your final. His apartment had air conditioning, and he was surprisingly deft with a knife and cutting board. Dude didn’t know how to figure the mechanics for emailing his film class project to you that one time last semester but could whip up a Greek salad and broiled chicken like no other. Your own little Gordon Ramsey.

He was yours now, officially. As of last month he was yours. A month full of drive-in movies, failed study dates, and an absurd amount of McFlurry’s.

And that’s what is waiting for you in Sapnap’s cup holder when you swing your way into his car with an exasperated look on your face. You just melt, eyes flicking up to his gratefully and silently taking it.

“How was the final?” He lays a hand on the gear shifter and nudges the AC up one more tick. The door closes behind you and you shuffle your legs apart, leg hair tingling in this heat.

“It was fucking brutal. I think I developed an ulcer just looking at the reference page,” you huff and he just shakes his head, laugh hot on his lips. “Absolutely not worth the studying—think I got a good grade, though.”

“Well, that’s cool. I’m proud of you.” The engine chugs to life when he shifts into drive and starts for the side street.

“Thanks.” Your cheeks blush ever so lightly but you pass it off to the heat. A moment passes. “So.” The straw makes a choking noise as it nudges at the bottom of an empty cup. Jesus, you finished that fast. “What’s on the menu for today?” Brandy’s Sunny Day lilts softly into the blasting air as you settle into a comfortable conversation, schoolwork at the back of your mind.

“Thinking of making banana chocolate chip muffins and pigging on those. Thoughts?” Flicking on his left turn signal with his left hand, the right slides onto your knee.

It’s never too hot for that.

“Sounds perfect,” you reply, voice small in a sudden bout of shyness. He double-takes with a smile, squeezing once at your leg.

Pigging is a perfect term for what you two do the second those muffins are out of the oven; it is too easy to shove three of those in a matter of seconds. Bellies full and in a sugar coma, you two lay under the whirring of his living room’s fan and stare up at the ceiling.

“This feels so good,” he mumbles, eyes half-lidded. Reaching a hand out, he pats his way to your hand and takes it, immediately squeezing it. “Wish you were kissing me right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” You taunt and hike a leg up onto his hips, swinging onto his lap and leaning to get your lips near his.

And that’s that.

The night is perfect.

Sapnap ushered you into his car at midnight and within four minutes you were on a US freeway with your head out the window. Like a dog.

A lone bird flies past in the dark air and you watch it swing into a patch of trees. You just close your eyes and breathe.

The stress literally melts. Melts into a puddle and drips out of you, falling onto the black pavement whipping past at a moment’s notice. School is a bitch already, much less an American college education. Grades and tests and professors and GPA’s and all that.

You swear Logan Lerman’s character knew what he was talking about when he said “we were infinite” in The Perks of Being A Wallflower. That’s what this feels like: infinity. Going 70 in a car driven by your hunk of a boyfriend, feeling the wind in your hair and the taste of midnight in between your teeth.

The inside of the car feels sweet when you duck your head back in, smile wide and hair crazy and a content look in your eyes. Sapnap gives you a glance before looking back at the road nonchalantly and lifting to curl and twitch two fingers at you. You instinctively move forward, eyebrows drawn together in curiosity. Three fingers grip your jaw tight, and then his mouth is on yours as the chorus of The King swells through the speakers. You only get two seconds to hum in happiness and slide a hand up his chest before he’s pulling away and has those beautiful eyes back on the road.

“You’re mean to me,” you sigh, and settle back into your seat with a ‘hmph’. He just looks smug. Bastard.

The nights Sapnap plays video games with his friends are—hm. Definitely something. You like to let him have those nights with no distractions most of the time; and you’re categorized as a distraction by the amount of times he “lags” when giving you a kiss or getting you on his lap.

Tonight, he got off work early and on the drive home called and asked if you’d come over and sit with him while he Robloxes with his friends. (“It’s like you can’t go one day without your hands on me,” you’d teased, but he couldn’t say a thing in response. You were right, needless to say.) “You can bring your paints!” he’d even added, knowing you like to watercolor as a hobby. You weren’t necessarily Etsy-worthy but it was fun and a stress-reliever.

And so here you were. Legs crossed, sketch pad in your lap, watching your adult boyfriend yell so loud that his voice cracks and breaks with every change of tone. You really had to remember to apologize to his neighbors…

“Baby—,” Sapnap starts, swinging around in his chair to hit you with a look so pouty his lip was in danger of falling off. “My dear girlfriend. My lovely woman.” His question doesn’t even need to be asked— he wants you to go get him a drink.

“You’re a misogynist. I’m calling NOW on you.” But you’re already heaving yourself off of his mattress and heading into the hallway, faux-annoyed look on your face. It melts into a smile upon seeing that little canvas mounted on the wall next to the door to his bathroom. It was a haphazard portrait of his parent’s dog Bowser that you’d drawn the few days his step-mom forced him to bring you home over spring break.

When you return to his room a few minutes later with a Bang and a couple of snacks for yourself, Sapnap has his headphones off and is swinging his feet in his chair like a child waiting for their parents to pick them up from school. You approach him, apprehensive smile on your face, and hand his drink over.

“Thank you,” he drawls, mid-yawn, and sets it down on the desk. Snaking an arm around your waist, he drags you between his legs and stuffs his face into your shirt. He inhales deeply but pulls away after a pause, hands tight on your abdomen. You press a thumb into his cheek and rub fondly at his facial hair, watching the way his eyes close calmly and relax.

“You’re so cute it causes me physical pain,” is all you get out before leaning and pressing a kiss square on his pink lips. They move against yours like they were meant to, one hand sliding up the material of your shirt and onto your warm skin.

“You smell like Subway,” he murmurs, and then the moment’s over.

Typical.

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D let me know what you think in the comments!

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x reader #sapnap x fem!reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap fic #sapnap one shot #sapnap oneshot #mcyt imagine #mcyt x you #bubblyhoneyfics

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hiccanna-tidbits · 3 years

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Do you have any headcanons for jackunzel?

I have!!! So very many!!! And at last, I have a place to put all of them!!!

I'm sorry this took so long Anon, it took me a while to put together all the different ones I have from all my fics/fic concepts. I thought about these guys a LOT back in the day lol

SO without further ado, here they are!!! Sorted into general categories like my Moanida headcanons.

General

I’ve seen a couple fics where Jack is written ADHD-coded and honestly...I see it???? I imagine Rapunzel is the only one who has learned to roll with and not be frustrated by his criminally short attention span (with the exception of Anna, maybe! XD). I also like to think Jack tends to prefer visual mediums of art like paintings (or movies, in a modern AU), but Rapunzel manages to get him into reading!!! He does, however, lament about how much of a “nerd” this makes him.

Jack has dealt with pretty severe depression and loneliness for 300-straight years (or just straight lifelong clinical depression and constant platonic rejection in a modern AU), and Rapunzel is highkey the only one of Jack’s friends who really GETS how to deal with it. Merida and Hiccup do the best they can, but Merida tends to get frustrated when even the wackiest of her shenanigans can’t snap him out of a particularly bad depressive funk, and Hiccup just gets anxious and stressed because there’s not really any logical process or solution to making someone...not depressed with abandonment issues and such. Punz, meanwhile, knows what it’s like to be lonely and to be rejected (just look at what she has to go through with her mom!), and how sometimes you just need to...be there. Not try to cheer him up, but just be a shoulder to cry on and keep him company and show him he’s not alone while he works through his shit. She also is always there to validate how he’s feeling and is more than happy to help cook him a healthy meal if he’s feeling too down to make himself food.

Jack is the THE most touch-starved boi (300 years of being invisible and having the only people you can interact with viewing you with mild annoyance will do that to ya) and Rapunzel is all too happy to remedy this!!! Being a generally extremely physically affectionate person and giving bear hugs to rival actual bears, they’re a match made in heaven (LITERALLY practically, with the sun-moon symbolism lmao). Rapunzel is basically always touching him, even before they formally get together. She gives him hugs (especially surprise hugs from behind!), arm pats, arm swats when he’s being annoying, and just generally likes to grab his arm and excitedly yank him around. He really has no idea what to make of this at first, considering he hasn’t been touched regularly for 300-odd years, but once he gets used to it, he loves it. He had absolutely no idea how touch-starved he was until he found someone all too happy to touch him. He gets little warm tingles wherever she touches him and it takes him a long-ass time to realize it’s because he has a crush on her and not just because he likes physical affection lmao

They do art together!!! Jack can’t really draw concrete things for shit, so what they’ll typically do is Jack will make some really thin, abstract frost designs on a canvas and then Rapunzel’ll paint over them and kinda color them in. Then when the ice melts, it makes kind of a cool, watercolor-esque type deal! They have several of these bad boys hung up in their room. Rapunzel always gives Jack far more credit than he deserves, claiming he did 80% of the work.

She draws on him. A lot. Like she’s near constantly painting on his arm or doodling all over him with a pen. His pale-ass skin makes for a wonderful human canvas, honestly. Jack allows it because feeling repetitive brushstrokes/penstrokes on his skin is surprisingly relaxing, and he has the totally-not-biased opinion that his girlfriend Rapunzel Corona has the prettiest art in the world. Jack’s heavily-tatted friend Aster Bunnymund constantly teases him about these body drawings, and Jack always claps back with “you’re just jealous that I can get better body art than your edgy garbage for FREE”

These two are THE winter activities couple, and try to cram so many into every December, January, and February that it’s almost obnoxious. They have sledded down every hill in town!!! They have visited every single ice rink!!! They have tried every hot chocolate flavor!!! Snow forts? Nay--these two built full-on snow CASTLES and proceeded to battle one another in a snowball fight so Extra that local film students sneakily taped the entire thing and turned it in as their final project! Jack has absolutely made excessive and theatrical snowman displays on par with Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes, and will not apologize for it. Rapunzel often tries to Lighten The Mood by decorating various decapitated or exploding snowmen with dried flowers and little pine boughs and such.

They also really love to just relax by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa after a long, tiring day of playing around in the snow. Jack’s family has a really good homemade hot cocoa recipe, and they love just sitting by the fire drinking it while Jack (rather theatrically) tells stories. Rapunzel’s always acknowledged that Jack’s the one with a gift for storytelling while she tends to just ramble on and on, so she’s more than happy to just listen for a little while.

Rapunzel has truly superb baking skills, and many a time she has tried to make a Pinterest recipe and it comes out far better than it really has any business to. Other times, she bakes creations that are barely recognizable as pastries. A couple times she’s invited Jack to help, but this usually ends with sugar exploding all over the kitchen or flour ending up on every conceivable surface. Regardless, Rapunzel’s creations almost always taste amazing, and she’s always more than happy to bake cookies, cupcakes, or little mini-pies for Jack. Jack, notorious sugar fiend that he is, is absolutely never going to say no. Once he’s done with Rapunzel’s pastries, it’s a wonder there’s anything left for anyone else.

Rapunzel once attempted to bake Jack a mint chocolate chip ice cream cake for his birthday. It was a bona-fide disaster--the cake batter didn’t solidify all the way, the ice cream all melted, and the snowflake designs in the frosting got smudgy and sad-looking. Jack, upon seeing this, re-ice-creamed the ice cream (is that something he can do with his powers? I’m deeming it is) and proceeded to love the cake anyway. He even once attempted to bake an even worse cake to make Punz feel good by comparison.

Rapunzel and Jack’s sister Emma (yes I know her official name is Mary or something but I’ve been calling her Emma for years...I can’t UNknow her as Emma, you feel?) are ABSOLUTE BESTIES! They make each other flower crowns!!! Rapunzel has known Emma practically since she was born and probably has helped Jack read her fairy tales and stories!!! I also like to think that Emma lowkey idolizes Punzel a bit and just constantly roasts her brother about how very out of his league Punz is and how she could do MUCH better if she wanted. Jack is like “yeah yeah I know!!! Stop reminding me how lame I am compared to my girlfriend!!!” and Emma is just like “No :)”

Rapunzel’s hair glows when she orgasms. Also, they definitely use some kind of snow/iceplay during...uh...physical intimacy. It probably creates literal steam. TMI maybe but COME ON YOU KNOW I’M RIGHT

I totally see them as being the kind of couple who like to take random city adventures, either by Jack flying Rapunzel around or in one of their cars, in a modern AU. Like they’d wanna explore every last corner of their little world that they could--even the dingy parts!!! I also think they’d love to hang out at random cafes and just people-watch. Although Jack is certainly not above repeating especially ridiculous things he hears strangers say in a mocking tone of voice XD It cracks Punz up basically every time. It’s like: Some random stranger a few tables away: They didn’t even put enough mayonnaise on my sandwich! Jack, excessively: tHeY dIdN’t EvEn PuT eNoUgH mAyOnNaIsE oN mY sAnDwIcH

They both love astronomy!!! And bond over this!!! I mean, come ON, Rapunzel CHARTED THE FREAKING STARS as a young teen, and Jack can not only FLY, but also spent YEARS asking the moon for answers and such...no way he didn’t gain at least a little appreciation for the night sky throughout all that??? Anyways, they love stargazing together!!! And Jack frequently muses about black holes and quasars and nebulous dust clouds and alien planets and the like! Rapunzel knows all the constellations and frequently teaches Jack random astronomy fun facts, and he’s just always so impressed by how much she knows <3

Childhood Friends AU

Besties growing up for sure!!! I can see them being neighbors and just randomly going to each other’s houses and climbing in the windows to sneak up and surprise the other. Jack definitely did this more often, and he may or may not have frequently snuck up on Punzel to scare the poor girl in her own home.

There’s a big tree outside Rapunzel’s bedroom window that Jack would often climb to get into her room. He definitely broke a few bones in their youth because he often got so excited to see her that he climbed the tree like...recklessly fast and fell out of it lmao

Jack had a planet-sized crush on Punzel from the jump, but convinced himself pretty early on that she was very much out of his league and he had no chance with her. Rapunzel’s feelings were more slow-growing (she was a bit of a late bloomer romantically and didn’t have a lot of hardcore crushes during her childhood), and really started to cement in their preteen years. Jack’s been flirting with Rapunzel pretty heavily their entire lives, but always plays it off as a joke because he’s too insecure to tell her he’s actually into her. Rapunzel, meanwhile, thinks it actually is a joke and she is thus in the friendzone too XD

I totally see them making a Childhood Marriage Pact, but in more of a way like “oh cool, if we get married we can be ROOMMATES??? And raise a DOG TOGETHER??? COOL, LET’S DO IT!” and they don’t realize it’s like...a romantic thing XD They just think it’s Really Intense Upgraded Friendship. Mega Bestfriendship, if you will.

Modern/High School AU

Theater kid Jack!!! Theater kid Jack!!! (I mean...look at that little performance he was putting on with the deer antlers in his memories, the kid CLEARLY enjoys theatrics) And Rapunzel comes to absolutely all of his shows!!! And claps and cheers the loudest at the end!!!

In an AU where they aren’t childhood friends, I can totally see Rapunzel first meeting Jack because he’s in a school play (or dicking around and being a little shit in one of her classes--one of the two XD) and then getting into theater to impress him because Jack likes it and it sounds fun! I don’t think she’d score any huge roles, but I can see her really enjoying playing a couple small parts and maybe doing something like makeup crew on the side.

On that note, I can see Punz having some kind of makeup tutorial channel on YouTube and using Jack as her guinea pig to test new styles on XD Jack, for his part, totally owns it and poses dramatically at the end of every video when the makeup’s done. Hiccup makes fun of him for this, but Jack’s like “You’re just jealous because I’m prettier than you”

Jack is a closet weaboo. He pretends like he only watches anime to make fun of it, but he secretly unironically enjoys it. His friends all know that he likes to get really high and watch especially weird anime for the trippy experience--what they don’t know is that he also sometimes watches them sober. Rapunzel is the only one who knows this, but she’ll never tell.

Jack constantly mocks and teases Hiccup for how much of a “nerd” he is by being addicted to video games...despite him also being addicted to video games. Rapunzel likes to watch Jack game and cheer him on aggressively! She tries her hand at a few of his games. She’s pretty not great at the shooter ones, and they tend to stress her out more than anything, but she’s surprisingly amazing at the more plot-driven, puzzle-centered ones. Jack has been known to whinily call his girlfriend when he’s playing a particularly hard puzzle game and can’t figure out how to progress XD She just sighs, and comes over and figures out whatever it is he’s stuck on in all of 5 minutes.

Rapunzel is in their school’s art club. Jack goes to every single last one of their exhibitions and acts like Frank Reynolds. just just dramatically points to all the other paintings in the gallery like “BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! DERIVATIVE! NOW THAT...” *dramatically turns to Rapunzel’s art* “NOW THAT I LOVE. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE!” Rapunzel finds this humiliating yet flattering.

They paint each other’s nails!!! Jack is a simple man, and just does colors, while Rapunzel does full-on mini designs and pictures on Jack’s nails--and damn, is she good. She has a whole Insta page where she puts her nail art, but absolutely no one knows her hand model is Jack (mainly because, of course, he has to wash the designs off before going out in public because he’s an insecure boi XD). Rapunzel is absolutely the only one who knows Jack enjoys having pretty nails!

Sometimes they swap hoodies! Jack insists it’s solely For The Memes, but secretly he just likes the color pink and likes having an excuse to wear it. Of course, he would never admit this aloud to a single soul--not even Punzel. Rapunzel, nonetheless, figures it out eventually, because she’s not an idiot. She figures he’s too stubborn to admit it, so she just starts subtly wearing more pink around him so he gets to see it more <3

In general Jack actually has kind of an ultra-feminine streak, BUT being a typical insecure teenage boy, he denies it vehemently and sometimes acts overly macho to try and compensate. Rapunzel is basically the only person he’s felt comfortable showing his more “girly” side to. Merida would just make fun of him, Hiccup would probably just make snarky remarks, and even Anna is too much of a dudebro to really like...get it. Rapunzel, however, has never been anything but supportive and understanding, and Jack loves her so, so much for it <3

I kinda love the idea of them both dyeing their hair in a modern AU (with brown being their natural color and Jack dyeing white and Punzel dyeing blonde), and sharing hair-dyeing and hair-bleaching tips!!! Jack definitely tries to get Rapunzel to bleach her own hair (like he DEFINITELY does, let’s be real) to save on salon bills. He’s tried to get her to let him bleach it, but she doesn’t trust him not to completely fry and ruin her hair XD

They go REALLY GODDAMN HARD with Christmas/Yule decorations. Like. I imagine if they had a house together they’d have at least 20 inflatable reindeer, a full-on animatronic singing Santa on the roof, a maze in their front lawn constructed entirely of giant plastic candy canes and lawn flamingos in elf hats (Rapunzel’s idea), and their walls basically covered from ground to chimney with flashing Christmas lights. They do NOT mess around. Traffic gets bad in their neighborhood around the holidays because people come from all over town to see their extra-ass display.

Jack is OBSESSED with junk food. Also a sugar junkie far beyond the point of all reasonability. Like. This child will eat 5 party-size bags of chips, 12 cookies, and 3 chocolate bars in one sitting if left unattended. While Rapunzel is flattered that Jack is always down to eat her baked goods, she is slightly concerned that Jack pretty much inhales sugar and fat nonstop every chance he gets. She tries to get him to eat healthier, to little avail. The only time it really works is if she herself cooks for him--Punz has been known to make a tasty, nutritious meal or two!

Jack’s natural state of existing is Lazy As Hell, and honestly the only reason he’s as skinny as he is is because of Outrageously High Teenage Boy Metabolism (I’m sorry, but 90% of Jock Jack headcanons are just...incorrect??? HE IS A TWIG, HE CANNOT PLAY FOOTBALL). Rapunzel tries to set up a fitness program for him, as does Merida, but 90% of the time all he does is bitch about it XD He sometimes can be persuaded to go hiking with Rapunzel or Hiccup though!!! They know an outrageous amount about the local wildlife, so that makes it significantly more entertaining.

Jack knows how to skateboard!!! He tried to teach Rapunzel one time. It did not go well. Rapunzel sustained a few injuries. Mavis, a local skateboarding legend, is not above lightly mocking her for this from time to time.

Jack snowboards too!!! He is under the impression this makes him incredibly cool. He once invited Rapunzel along on a family ski/snowboard trip when they first started dating, and endlessly tried to show off to her. He ended up getting a mouthful of snow 90% of the time because he really isn’t as good as he thinks he is.

(Edited to be easier to read!!! It was kind of a mess before ^^;)

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obeymeluv · 4 years

Text

Signs they Love You

Back for my 1 post a week to prove school hasn’t totally killed me! When I get a semester break, I’ll post more often. In the mean time, feel free to leave me chats or PMs for stuff you want to see! :) Something nice and sappy for an okay Saturday

These turned out really long so I only did Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, and Satan. I have to get back to studying :/. Maybe I’ll have part 2 next week?

Lucifer

You wouldn’t be able to notice it because his pride wouldn’t allow you to. One of the brothers (or, to Lucifer’s extreme mortification, Lord Diavolo) would have to tell you

He’s not sure if it’s just the appreciation of you not being as totally chaotic as his brothers or genuine human naivete that has somehow worn off on him, but he loves you

Will be outed by sappy, soft stares that last 2 seconds too long.

Asmo and Satan are the first to notice and he LOATHES that

If he’s tasked with waking you up that morning, his knock will be firm but his voice will be gentle. Almost persuasive or commiserating

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by school workload, he may have a private conference with the teacher and grant you a minor extension. Will you know it was him? No. Is he happy to see you brighten up and refill with hope just a bit? Definitely. Is it worth the teasing from Lord Diavolo? ...Sure.

If he responds to texts in the wee hours of the morning when he’s still pouring over paperwork, he likes you.

Anyone who knows him can see how his eyes soften when someone else talks about you. There’s a fond slowness to his actions, how he glides his hand imperceptibly over his chest as if to feel where that emotion is coming from. Boy is whipped.

Should Lord Diavolo invite him out for a meeting, he will bring you back something small. Something he thought you’d like. Beel is upset. Levi yells “SIMP!” from the second floor and prepares for Armageddon.

Actually reminds you about assignments if you’re not already up on it yourself. Your success is his joy.

Is very keen on if/when you burn the candle too long and has a sixth sense for bad sleeping habits. Will put you on a stricter schedule for your own health

It may take almost all of the brothers to do it (or just help from Diavolo) but if he gets drunk on Demonus you’re getting a whole BOOK about why he likes you. He almost charms your memory away but everyone practically dog-piles on him not to because he needs to deal with his feelings.

You’re the only one he won’t chase out of his study when he’s doing paperwork. He’ll even set up a little fire if you like the fireplace.

How he confesses: tries to take you on a fancy date to Ristorante Six. Does not know that Lord Diavolo and Barbatos know about this (damn time-travelling butler!) and basically crash the date just to encourage him. Just long enough to encourage him.

Kind of an, “So you chose this idea, Lucifer? Admirable! I’m sure your date will be amazing! Enjoy your evening!” as Diavolo walks back to his table.

Does Lucifer deny it? Look and see how red his face is. If you’re really not sure, ask Diavolo. He will gladly yell, “I cannot lie!” across the restaurant.

Mammon

For all his talk, when he really, really decides he likes you, he doesn’t know what to say.

He can console himself with how obvious it is and how you made the best choice, but he has to show it! What to do?

Mammon’s kind of confused about it because he doesn’t really change how he behaves. You didn’t catch on already?! C’mon, human!

What, does he have to spell it out for you? Do an interview with Majolish?

His first tactic is to just be around you. Be subtle, and maybe cuddle a bit more than usual. Things to show he’s kittenish and at your mercy. Comfortable with you.

You don’t seem to be getting the hint so he throws the net a little wider by trying to find things you like or that you’ve been talking about. They mysteriously show up at your door.

It sends the others on a gossip train about who your admire could be and when they list off everyone BUT him, he wants to slam his head on the table.

Feeling tired? Coffee! Backpack heavy? Silly human, the BEST man can help you with that, OBVIOUSLY! Mammon jumps at the chance to do any little thing for you because he cares. His actions always speak louder than words.

Feeling kind of defeated and embarrassed, Mammon will go talk to the flock of crows that meander around the House of Lamentation’s yard when he really needs them.

For the next few days you’re accosted in the nicest way, birds chirping at you and dropping off various shiny things

You collect them, finally showing them to Mammon and he’s embarrassed that his representative animal has taken to courting you on his behalf.

He calls them to him, embarrassed and ready to rant or fall into the ground never to be seen again, when they start talking. Repeating all the things he’s practiced saying.

“Hey baby,”, “Hey human,” “Love you!”, “Silly! Silly!”, “Dummy, no, dummy!”, “My human.”

It’s broken and confusing, six or seven bird children cawing in your face and bobbing, but you get it.

Levi

Levi’s not the best at expressing himself but it counts, right? As much as he hates to admit he’s some kind of shy tsundere, you know what that is, right? He doesn’t have to say it?

Yes. Yes he does. His brothers are getting too chummy with you and you don’t understand his signals. Time for Plan B.

If you get invited to stand in line for a midnight release, he hopes you take it. Then it’s just you two hanging out in line? What’s this? He brought snacks? Totally not for the two of you BUT you an have some if you’re hungry. It’s whatever

When he’s not doing boss raids and playing with online friends, he’ll ask if you want to play something with him. A Player 1 needs a Player 2, you know?

I headcanon that Levi knows how to play some unusual instruments like the kalimba or a real ocarina. I could see him making you a song on one of those. Or just playing it because you inspire him. He’s very good with a harp and will play it when he’s in the mood.

Boy also likes to draw and paint. Especially loves watercolors. Would it be weird if he gave you a painting of you as a mermaid? Just you and the ocean. Beautiful.

Was there a really cute plush or knickknack you liked? Levi has his ways, regardless of how rare or limited edition it is. It will be yours.

He has a hard time understanding a passing comment of interest versus a genuine want because he genuinely wants everything he’s interested in, so if you hear a whisper about him almost securing something, stop and look it up. Make sure it’s not super expensive!!

Probably outed by Belphegor, who feels like Levi’s broadcasting all of his stress, frustration, and hope through his dreams. (”His dreams are weird. Just different ways of asking them out, and if he messes up it restarts like a simulation. My brain hurts.” he says to Beel)

You’re allowed to come into his super-restricted bedroom haven when everything’s too much. It’s very exclusive since the Mammon incident. Be happy.

Might go swimming in his big tank and pick a seashell or rock to make a necklace out of. He hopes you like it.

If he’s not outed by Belphie, some of his online friends made a game demo they wanted him to try. They specified it was two player so he asked you to join in. While he’s in the middle of bragging about how he knows people, knows developers, he totally misses the dating-sim like dialogue and the big reveal.

Doesn’t really kick in until he realize the characters look like you two. You’re busy saying ‘Yes’ to “Do you like me?” as Levi absolutely threatens to rip them apart six ways to Sunday. Almost in full demon mode, too.

Everything falls out of his brain and quiets in his throat when he realizes the characters are kissing and ‘THEY SAID YES!’ flashes on the screen.

“Y-You like me?”

“Yep.”

It was that easy all along. Levi thinks he’s going to faint.

Satan

Becomes aware of it pretty quick but ignores it for a looong time

Is it rude or foolish of him to assume you would also like him back?

Run away into books. A solid plan. If you don’t think about it, it’s not an issue

Oh, but it is an issue when you fall asleep after a mutual day of reading, forced in by bad weather. He finds his heart fluttering in a painful squeeze as he quietly whispers all the things he dare not say when you’re awake

It’s nervous poetry, and it’s beautiful

Satan tries to get himself back on track, to focus on reading, and he gets frustrated when he’s stuck on the same page almost an hour later

When you’re on the brain he just can’t do anything else

How does one show their affection? He’s swimming in books for a new reason now, as voracious as ever

He brews you a pot of Melancholy Coffee and is a bit disappointed you don’t know the meaning behind the bitterness. Wants to break the pot when Lucifer jokes about how it tastes exceptionally bitter to him as well.

Okay, so coffee didn’t work. What else do people do when they show their affections?

Asmo suggests a ‘not a date’ date and Satan sighs inside. Sounds like a lot of work and effort. It’s not that you’re not worth it, but he has a feeling that everyone will know and look at him the whole time.

Tries anyways. You guys go to a beautiful nature conservatory and take a tour of the plants and some indigenous animals

You’re starting to realize it now, he can tell. Satan tries to answer your question without saying it while you’re at school. You walk together, he offers to carry some of your books, and always requests that he be your project partner

Nearly there. If there was a single defining moment for him, he’d want it to be classic. He shows up at your door with a rose and asks you to go on a moonlit walk.

Mammon’s poking fun about how cheesy and cliche it is, Asmo’s gearing up to shut Mammon’s stupid mouth, and Satan just whisks you out the door with an aggravated sigh.

No matter what side of the house you’re on, Asmo throws up the biggest, gaudiest handmade sign that’s like ‘CUTEST COUPLE! 10/10!’

#Obey me!#Obey me x reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Levi x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Satan x Reader

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2-cute-4-school · 4 years

Text

NCT Dream reaction : you give them a handmade gift

M.list

Genre : fluff fluff fluff

Word count : 2.5K words

Mark Lee

*sigh* my overworked baby, SM pls let him rest

he probably forgets to eat from time to time or just doesn’t time to

which breaks your poor little heart :<

so when Mark stays in the recording room until late in the night once again, you don’t go to him empty handed

you go to him with a handful of homemade cookies!!! ヽ(^◇^*)/

when you enter the studio, Mark’s slumped figure immediately straightens up, tired eyes lighting up at the sight of you

he turns in his chair and stretched out his arms to you with a puppy face and your heart :((( just :((((( melts :(((((((((( wow mark no need to kill us all with your babie culture

but who are you to say no to this angel with somewhat less appropriate thoughts but you didn’t hear this from me so you don’t hesitate to walk into his open arms

he lays his head on your stomach, nuzzling into you and cuddling up to you like a clingy koala bear as you run your fingers comfortingly through his hair, lightly massaging his head

with the serene atmosphere you almost forgot why you came so you pulled away from Mark, your heart clenching at his whine and bring the bag with the cookies out of your backpack and thrust it in his hands

he looks from you to the bag and back with eyes so wide and innocent your brain almost short circuited at the utter cuteness

he digs into it once you prompt him to, a soft ‘woah’ coming out from him once he was hit with the sight of freshly baked cookies

“daaamn these are so good, babe” your eyes shine with pride

as he sticks one in his mouth, munching delighted at it (◠‿◠✿) , he grabs you with an arm, sitting you on his lap like a baby that you are and prodding your lips with another cookie he grabbed out of the bag

“oh no, I made these for you, I don’t-”

he doesn’t let you finish your sentence as he pushes the cookie in your mouth, watching you fondly as you start munching on it and patting your head with a gentle hand

“you’re so much cuter when you’re not nagging”

*GASP*

the Disrespect

Huang Renjun

this baby probably also showers you in his own gifts such as paintings or drawing of you sooo

it’s only proper that you also gist him something made by you (°∀°)

you work your cute ass off to perfect the most adorable Moomin key-chain you can come up with *huff*

the day you finally deem it good enough to be shown to the top artist Huang Renjun you sweat buckets as you approach him

Renjun is busy on his iPad as you paddle over to him and stick the key-chain in his face with a dumb but proud smile “here”

Renjun turns to you with a blank face “what is this?”

●‿●

when I tell you the blood drained from your face and you died 50 times internally, your soul just left your body and you saw your life flash before your eyes ‘well life was good, time to say goodbye eyy’

you manage a loud and definitely not artificial laugh

“HAHAHA JUST AN UGLY THING I made I MEAN FOUND HAha ʰᵃ!!! Hey doesn’t it look like you in the morning?!”

that’s when you knew you gotta bolt the scene

but Renjun of course couldn’t let your embarrassment end there the grumpy little gremlin

he snatched the keychain from you and curled his other hand around you, gluing you to his side and you froze as you looked into his sparkly wide eyes ( Renjun’s eyes are galaxies fite me )

“you made this for me?”

“uh yeah”

warning : you were strangled to death by Renjun who deemed that a simple ‘thank you’ just couldn’t suffice, you had to die asphyxiated by his bear hug

“thank u thank u thank it’s so cute, I love it so much! I love you so much!!!”

“do you love me more than Moomin?”

warning 2 : he threw you away faster than he captured you in his deathly cute hug

“know your place, no. 2″

(¤﹏¤)

Lee Jeno

so Jeno is just a biiiiit upset at you maybe

okay maybe a bit more than just a bit

because you might or might have not broken his favorite cup which, mind you, was also a gift from you, when you were at the dorms

so now this overgrown baby gives you THE stinky eye and makes sarcastic and grumpy remarks with any chance he gets

and honesty as much as you love him, you’re ABSOLUTELY DONE with his pettiness :’)

that’s how you find yourself seated at your desk with a blank cup, acrylic watercolors and brushes spread everywhere as you squeeze every ounce of willpower to finish what you started

so after 2 mental breakdown, painted fingers and a veryyy dirty desk, you finished painting a cute design on Jeno’s new cup

you let it dry and didn’t waste another second to bring it to Jeno who still sulked at the dorms

once you were let inside, you trudged over to Jeno who was sat at the couch, refusing to get up and greet you with kisses as he usually did and slammed the cup on the coffee table in front of him

his frown turned into a confused puppy face so fast his duality amazed you once again, he lifted the cup gently, running the tips of his fingers gently over the paintings you worked so hard to complete for him

“are you still mad, nono?”

his silence was quite unnerving as you started to tire yourself out, your voice weakened by worry, but he lifted his head, looking at you with eyes so soft your heart fluttered wildly in your chest

“mad? you-you did this for me and you think I’m mad?”

he put the cup down much gentler than you and stood up from his seat, engulfing you in his arms, one of his hands squeezing you impossibly close to him and the other one cradling your head to his chest

“I think I just fell in love with you once again”

“if you fall in love just from a painted cup I should be more careful when I leave you alone”

he chuckled at your witty remark, kissing the side of his neck

once you broke apart, he placed his new favorite cup on the highest shelf and turned to you with a shit-eating grin

“i’ll put this here so maybe you won’t break this one too”

“sleep with an eye open tonight, lee” (☉‿☉✿)

Lee Donghyuck

so another overworked baby of mine bless his soul

his schedule is so packed so even though he’d cuddle with you until the end of times you actually didn’t get to do that as often as you’d like

and we all know how whiny lil cutie baby Haechanie can get when he doesn’t get what he wants :’))))

and since unfortunately you can’t be beside him all of the time like he wants you to, you decide the next best thing : you knit him a scarf !! you even stuck a tag made out of a soft material with a drawing of a smiley sun to one end of the scarf

he looks so shocked when you skip into his room and lovingly strangle him with the scarf

and you swear you could see his eyes glisten when you tell him you made it yourself and he remembers the bandaids that seemed to grow in number every day which you always shrugged of when he asked

although the tears may be from the lack of air ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

n e way, he looks so thankful as he wordlessly cradles your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and taking the time to litter kisses over every single one of your small injuries, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ at the end

you swear your heart runs leaps through your rib cage

he just loves you so so much and would appreciate anything you give him

you bring his face back up and press a huge *smooch* on his lips and you both giggle in between your kisses

why so cute you lovebirds?!?

he brings the scarf everywhere he goes, to the dorms, to every show, concert, whenever he travels somewhere, no matter the season

it becomes his lucky charm

once, Renjun sends you a picture of your Hyuckie sleeping cuddled up to the scarf, his nose nuzzled into it

“you know I won’t let him forget about this. EVER” you smirk at Renjun’s text, typing back a reply

“pls do” ( ಠ◡ಠ )

Na Jaemin

this sweet boi hold close to his heart anything you give him

so there’s literally no reason to stress over the bracelet you decided to craft for him

but you being you of course you want to rip your hair out every time something doesn’t go your way ah the levels of patience are definitely soaring through the roof

you even swallowed your pride and asked Jeno for help (read as used him as a puppet) so you were sure you’d get the right size

so after doubting the colors, patterns, material, your entire life choices, you asked Jaemin to close his eyes the next time you met up

with extra shaky fingers, you wrapped the bracelet around his wrist and fumbled to tie it properly

“I’m not getting any younger over here, y/n”

“shut up, mommy jaemie”

he managed to slap the back of your head even with his eyes closed (>‘o’)>

so when you finally tied a sturdy knot with your chicken fingers, you let him open his eyes and beach let me tell you the way his entire face broke into a smile at the sight of the pretty bracelet around your wrist

the sun seemed to pale in comparison with his precious smile, jaemin lights up the world no question, there’s no way you can convince me otherwise

“oh my God, my baby spent time making me such a pretty gift, I must have saved a country in my previous life, come here, let me smooch you into next week (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ “

so that’s how you ended up trapped in Jaemin’s embrace FOREVER

he kept on complimenting you the entire day and made it his mission to boast to every member he could get is hands on about his pretty gift made by his even prettier baby, he’s such a sucker for you no joke whipped culture right here m’am

“Jaemin, the the threads are getting dirty, don’t you think it’s time to take it off-?”

“I’ll die wearing this ʘ‿ʘ“

Zhong Chenle

among all of his ultra expensive things he has, he is dead sure that you’re the most precious in his life

he often told you he’d give up every penny in his bank and all his fame as long as he got to keep you by his side

he regarded you as a ray of warm light when the world left him cold and he swore he’d fight off anything and anyone who dared to hurt you

so this is how he found himself a bit confused and extremely guilty over how he is supposed to fight himself, watch and learn baby

he never meant to upset you, especially over something you poured your blood, sweat and tears into perfecting it just for him

sure, you were aware the Chinese patters you sewed carefully into a pristine white material weren’t perfect, but the way he laughed in you face once you offered it to him toppled your negative emotions over

he wasn’t aware that you sewed it yourself when he made fun of it

“jeez, where did you get this from, Y/N, the clownery fair? even though you should report them for to costumer protection for its ugliness”

“maybe I should report you for being a bitchy prick” ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

you glare at him and storm away, slamming the door

chenle, the most oblivious and babiest boyfriend : (Θ︹Θ)ს well shit

but of course you couldn’t stay mad at him for long when he sweet talked his way back into your good side basically every minute of the day after finding out from Renjun (this angry angel helped you bless his soul) how hard you worked to sew that

so even though you’re still sulking a lil bit

you accept to come over at his house and as soon as you enter his room you’re shook

where one of his posters once hung above his bed now stood your sewing project proudly

you stared in awe like （’◎’）

“but I though you said it’s ugly”

“that’s before I knew it’s made by you. Anything you did is directly promoted to gorgeous, admirable, incomparable-”

ヾ(＠⌒▽⌒＠)ﾉ

3 weeks later while cuddling

you : *GASP* “I’m so sorry for calling you a bitchy prick, baby”

Park Jisung

he is a giant as much as he is a baby and you agree with me even if you don’t

babies are fascinated by almost anything, especially colorful things

which means Jisung is also fascinated by colorful things ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

so when you met and you pulled out a few origami figures of different, lively colors, Jisung : (✪㉨✪)

“woah, how did you do these?”

“they’re like basic origami figurines”

if he wasn’t amazed enough already

when you picked up a purple frog and pressed on its bottom and it jumped, Jisung jumped up with it

“WOAH, how did you do THAT?”

you didn’t have the heart to break his innocent awe and tell him it didn’t take longer than 5 minutes to make that frog

so you just settled for a shrug and a simple

“magic, Jisung, magic”

at that, he straightens up in his seat, his awestruck expression fading into a serious one as he grips your shoulders tightly （´＿｀）

“you’ve been lying to me, haven’t you?” ~(｡☉︵ ಠ@)>

“what do you mean, sungie?”

“you’re a wizard!!!!!!!!!”

*facepalm* *internal sigh* *whale noises because cuteness levels are just too high*

“uh, yeah sure, baby, whatever floats your boat”

you try to turn away to hide your growing smile, but jisung isn’t having it

“no, you can’t leave me like this!! teach me!!!1!”

he grips your sleeve and looks at you with such wide innocent eyes as if you’re another wonder of the world and you swear you melt on the spot

“well, you know, my services aren’t free” (¬‿¬)

“what do you want?”

“kisses?” ( jisung shutting down )

“k-kisses? kisses??!? i mean *clears throat and buffs up* yeah sure, that’s all? i can do kisses” ( this baby blushed after only mentioning it but okay boss baby go off I guess ) (*~▽~)

he could’t even be disappointed when he found out origami was nowhere near to magic when you spoiled him with kithes all evening *cue a red Jisungie*

#cznnet #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream #nct fluf #nct angst #nct dream scenarios #nct dream reactions #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct renjun #nct mark #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

Text

Watercolors & Waterfalls || College!Stanley Uris x Reader

Day 4 of Fictober

Fandom: It (2017/2019)

Pairings: College!Stanley Uris x [gn]College!Reader

Requested: Hi! Could I get a college Stan x reader where she’s an art student and always doing silly stuff and like booping his nose with paint and he acts like “ugh quit it” but he’s actually so in love? Thank youuuuu!

A//n: Hiya, honey! Thanks so much for requesting, and such an adorable one too! I could picture it as soon as I read it and I'm glad to finally be getting to it. It's not as long as I wanted since I didn't have all day to work on it and get it published in time, so I hope to come back and expand later. But hopefully this will do for now. Hope you enjoy! **** UGH okay i SWEAR i got this done before midnight, its just the whole editing process took a lot longer than anticipated and my day today was pretty busy.

Fictober Day 4: "that didn't stop you before"

"I seen a rainbow yesterday, But too many storms have come and gone, Leavin' a trace of not one God-given ray,"

Stan looks up from his text book when he realizes he's reread the same paragraph for the fourth time. Stan looks up from his text book when he realizes he's reread the same paragraph for the fourth time.

You sat across from him at your desk preparing the last of your supplies, paint somehow already on your brow before your watercolor canvas as you bounce around in your seat to your radio.

"Is it because my life is ten shades of gray, I pray all ten fade away, Seldom praise Him for the sunny days,"

Stan watches completely perplexed as you spout the lyrics almost perfectly while you make slight adjustments to your work with the pencil behind you pulled from behind your ear. You were completely captivated by the music and the task before you, and completely unaware of his stare.

"And like his promise is true, Only my faith can undo, The many chances I blew to bring my life to anew," you began painting, your hand managing to stay steady as your body continued to bounce with the beat. "Clear blue and unconditional skies, Have dried the tears from my eyes, No more lonely cries,"

Oh, how Stanley wished he had his camcorder.

"My only bleedin hope is for the folk who can't cope, With such an endurin' pain that it keeps them in the pouring rain, Who's to blame for tootin' caine into your own vain? What a shame, you shoot and aim for someone else's brain, You claim the insane and name this day in time for fallin prey to crime I say this system got you victim to your own mind. Dreams are hopeless aspirations in hopes of coming true. Believe in yourself the rest is up to me and-"

"DON'T GO CHASING WATERFALLS!" You pull your head up to look at your boyfriend of four years with a grin before diving back in. "Come on Stan, I know you know it, -THE RIVERS AND THE LAKES THAT YOUR USED TO."

Stan sighs, not bothering to fight the eye roll that brings him back to his text book. Nor the tight-lipped smile that crept up on his face. All the while missing the playful grin you wear as you continue to belt the lyrics.

"I know you're gonna have your way or nothin' at all, But I think you're moving too fast,"

"And I thought we agreed to get some work done, today?" He asks, with a look of hidden playfulness.

You easily return his look with a cocked brow, your eyes pulling away from the small pool of blue water that swirled with your brush.

"I am getting my work done," you answer. "Aren't you?"

His textbook falls back flat on the desk as he looks at you from across the wooden table, perturbance written all over his face. But your smile only widened when you spotted the look in his eyes that never left when you were around. No matter how stressed Stanley got, how angry, his eyes always held a certain softness for you. You set your brush down, now leaning on both your folded arms as you met his gaze. He was much too tall for the dorm chair he sat in now, his skinny frame towered over the desk in a long hunch that all piled onto of the table across from you.

"You said I'd be able to study," he says.

You shrug. "So study,"

Another flat look. "Y/n, I love you but you're kind of making it impossible."

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"You know exactly how,"

Your eyes fall away from his, your hands coming to lazily pick up your brush and fingers fiddling with the bristles. You can still feel his eyes drilling into yours, but you merely focus on wet beads of paint that spill onto your fingertips as you wear an exaggerated look of confusion.

"I don't know what your talking about," your innocent tone is laced with sarcasm.

Stan sighs. Don't be fooled, he adores every minute he spends with you which was why he was so eager to come to your dorm when you asked him to sit in for reference. Your current media study was watercolors, and to test your limits a bit, you had asked your loving boyfriend if he would be your reference model. He was your inspiration after all, and he adored your work. Anytime you did anything outside of school - which was a lot, mind you - Stan would make a HUGE deal about it and talk his way into keeping it. His dorm walls were completely filled with your artwork, he was no doubt your biggest fan. But today?

Well, today was another sit in day, probably one of the last ones so to speak. You had already had a few so that you could sketch him - he was NOT allowed to look, which frustrated him greatly - and he had quickly learned to bring something to do keep him busy. Unfortunately for Stanley, pressures had begun to rise in his classes as of late and Stanley was, to put it delicately, a rubber band ready to snap.

So here he was, sitting before you and your mini tabletop easel he wasn't allowed to peek at as you met his stern gaze with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Y/n, I mean it-"

You freeze as you stare at your boyfriend with your jaw hanging open in a smile. While playing with the bristles, several blue droplets of paint had gone airborne and landed all across his face. His eyes were screwed shut, lips pursed uncomfortably as blue streaks fell down his face, painting his skin.

Finally, when he's sure he was clear of paint getting in his eyes, he opened them to find you still frozen with the goofiest look on your face.

"...Whoops." you chuckle.

He just blinks at you, and before he can speak you slowly extent your brush and dot his nose with paint. "...Boop."

He shakes his head in disbelief, lips puckered as he tries fighting a smile; a battle he sorely looses. You match his grin, the undeniable love sick gaze in his eyes behind that playful anger he wore.

"You're gonna pay for that," he says finally.

You scoff. "Seriously? It was accident!"

You laughed again. "And then, yeah, the other was on purpose. But its cool though, cause you look adorable."

Without breaking his gaze, he dips his fingers in your glass jar of paint water, and flicks his hand your face making you recoil. Your playful fury surfaces, and you rise to your feet to tower over him.

"Are you challenging me, Uris?" You asked. "If so, don't expect me to play by the rules, cause I won't. I won't hold back,"

He rises to meet your eye level, eyes squinting, palms on the table and your noses inches apart.

"That didn't stop you before,"

You smirk, left hand going unnoticed as it wrapped around the mason jar of paint water that sat on the desk beside you.

#fictober20 #fictober 2020 #fictober #stanley uris x reader #stan uris x reader #stan uris imagine #stanley uris imagine #stan uris one shot #stanley uris one shot #reader insert #x reader #requested #college au #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral reader

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meruz · 3 years

Note

Hey I can't find this in your FAQ so sorry if it's been asked before! Your traditional art is so stunning and vibrant, would you happen to have any brand recommendations for people trying to get into painting? Maybe specific gouche paint, brushes, papers etc. Thank you so much and have a nice day!

no one has ever asked me this before because this is like the first time ive started putting traditional art on my blog! LOL umm to be honest I’m very far from pro on this front, most of my knowledge comes from a handful of classes I didn’t pay a lot of attention to and lots of youtube videos but here’s my recommendations:

Paint

A lot of my paints are winsor newton designer’s gouache because this is what my teachers made me buy when I was a freshman at art school LOL. it’s definitely kind of pricey, I think it’s like $10.99 for a tube which I was NOT a fan of as a college student and is still not my favorite thing now. But they’re overall worth the price if you really want solid, high quality opaque paints. Though I’ve heard their student grade winton paints are decent as well?

I’ve heard less good things about brands like reeves and artist loft... but I think turner is alright? m.graham is supposedly great.

I also bought a set of holbein acryla gouache when it was discounted on amazon a while ago and have found it very solid. One thing you have to know about acryla gouache is that it uses a binder more like acrylic paint (hence the name acryla). Paints are made out of pigment + binder and most gouache is essentially watercolor but with extra pigment/chalk to make it opaque - the binder is water soluble so these paints can be reactivated with water. Acryla gouache is NOT water soluble when dry and it dries pretty fast so it’s overall less flexible. But other than that you can pretty much treat it like any other gouache and I find they keep a little better too, less likely to get gunky or stiff.

All paint brands have a handful of starter packs which are slightly discounted but if you want to build your own starting palette I’d say get a warm and cool tint of all the primaries, get a lot of white (working with gouache somehow involves a lot of mixing with white lol), and get a brown, maybe like burnt sienna or raw umber for underpaintings. No need to get a black, mixing darks builds character, looks better, and having one out of the tube can become a crutch. If you find a white watercolor paint tube that’s cheaper you can buy that instead of a gouache white. Again, they have pretty much the same make-up. And white paints are generally opaque enough that the composition between gouache/watercolor shouldn’t matter too much.

I’ve never used a block tray of gouache. Like those paints that come in little blocks in a tray? I know there's a bunch out there but I’ve never used them and I don’t know anyone else who does so I have no opinion on them.

Brushes

I’ve been kind of exploring this myself. I recently bought a cheap set of flat brushes off amazon LOL and I like them a lot?

Theyre probably not The Best or anything but I found flat brushes suit gouache plein air painting really well because its suits the kind of color blocking shapes I want to make. Also these had the right handle length to fit in my painting bag. That’s like the main reason I chose them tbh.

Honestly a lot of my art supplies philosophy is “give it a whirl with whatever you have lying around and when it feels like you're missing something specific keep an eye out for when that stuff goes on sale”

Paper

GOTTA BE HONEST I’m using cheapo paper. Because I’m making these paintings half for study and half to give my parents something to hang in the living room.

You can actually see some of them curling in on themselves here lol. If you’ve seen the sketchbook I’m holding in any of my pics of paintings it’s one of the canson mixed media books.

and its FINE... I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it lol.. I like that the texture is very fine but it doesn’t hold a lot of water and definitely distorts. Also I keep ripping off the surface with painters tape but that might just be on me. Oh buy artist tape. Just because its so satisfying to have clean edges.

I’m using painters tape instead of artist tape because I found it in the basement but if youre buying supplies buy artist tape because it’ll be kinder to your paper.

SPEAKING OF PAPER.

I guess anything heavyweight for watercolor/mixed media will be fine? some people like a lot of texture but if you’re painting small you might want to avoid it and pick hot press over cold press. Honestly I feel like a lot of this is going to depend on what your specific needs are.. how big do you want the paper to be.. do you want a sketchbook or would you rather carry around loose paper... etc. Maybe go to an art store and touch all their paper. I feel like its easier to understand sizes and texture when you’re seeing it physically.

When I go on a trip, I normally bring a softcover heavyweight stillman & birn sketchbook because I tend to obliterate metal spiral books in my bag LOL. Also I don’t rip any pages out of my travel sketchbooks so I don’t need perforation or anything. Also they go on sale a lot in the art store I go to haha. I havent used gouache extensively in it but it takes inkwash/maker pretty well.

On the higher end, I personally haven’t used it that much but my friends who do traditional illustration professionally swear by arches watercolor paper. It comes in lots of different sizes.

Whatever you use, if you really want it to lie flat you’re gonna want to soak and stretch it on a board but I don’t bother with that because I am lazy.

Palette

You didn’t ask about palette but I’m taking the opportunity to be a shill because I personally use a sta-wet palette and I LOVE it.

One of the biggest frustrations about gouache for me was how quickly it dries after it leaves the tube. And even if you can reawaken it with water its not quite the same? and consistency is SO important when it comes to applying gouache so I don’t want to be over-watering my paint.. ugh. Anyways, I don’t have to worry about that with the sta-wet palette and really its been a game changer for me. sta-wet is a brand name but there are a bunch of other wet palettes not by masterson that I’m sure are just as good. I mean, it’s just a box with a sponge basically, that can’t be hard to replicate.

The only thing - and I personally have not had this issue but I have friends who have - is that if you leave it wet for too long it could grow mold? or a mouldy smell? Just wash your palette with soap and don’t leave it for weeks on end and it should be fine.

If you’re not feeling a palette that’s always moist, the best palette I used in school was a simple glass palette. you can buy one I guess but it’s so easy to DIY, I think the way we did it in school is getting a piece of glass and mdf from the hardware store cut the same size and then duct taped them together on the sides so it wouldn’t be sharp.

costs like nothing.

what else...get a palette knife if you like to mix paints? and like to save paints... mixing with the brush means you lose paint in your brush in the mixing process so a knife is a good way to maximize that process. I don’t use it much but sometime if I have to mix a lot of one color I’ll pull it out of my bag.

I don’t know anything about easels, I sit on the dirty ground like a gremlin when I paint.

Ok yeah that’s all the supplies tips I have. hope some of it was helpful! always try to save money with art supplies, I think. Especially if you’re just starting out - it’s less stressful to use cheap supplies too lol. Good luck! Happy painting!

#Anonymous #traditional art #gouache #one day ill work out a proper way to tag this

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 4 years

Note

Hi! Could you please write hcs on yakuza Johnny, Gyro, Diego, and Giorno’s ‘weak spots’? Like things their S/O can do that would make them melt? Hopefully I’m not bugging you, haha

Hello anon~! Of course I can~! hehe I hope you enjoy these hcs~! And sweet pea, you’re not bugging me at all~! I’m just ecstatic that so many people enjoy this AU~! ;; <3

Now, since this one doesn’t have a specified reader type, I’ll go ahead and work with a Underling!Reader ~!

» » Admin Ko

ᴍᴇʟᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ꜰᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ; ɢʏʀᴏ ; ᴅɪᴇɢᴏ ; ɢɪᴏʀɴᴏ | [𝕁𝕁𝔹𝔸] Yakuza!AU | Head Canons

ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴊᴏᴇꜱᴛᴀʀ

First and foremost, some background with this relationship. Johnny never anticipated to feel the way he does for another person, more or less an underling of all people. Though he has his distrust for all their underlings, he keeps a majority of those opinions to himself-- rather he tries to.

However, his world is thrown for a loop when he meets her. Despite being an underling, her absolute drive and motivation to accomplish her duties was something he couldn’t really keep his eyes off of. Eventually, they end up together. Johnny becoming a smidgen more interested in the work all the underlings do to help keep the business afloat.

He won’t lie when he’s playing favorites, he’ll be distinctively clear on that. Those who work hard and have strong loyalties to the Joestar family are the ones he has a... in a sense, kinder eye to.

With time, he ends up going on more missions with her; to observe or to mock no one would ever really know, but least to say the pair grew quite close in that aspect; and no matter how much coaxing he tried, he couldn’t get her to budge from the position she choose for herself.

Now then, our reader has had an ample amount of time to observe and understand the little ticks of Johnny, and even more so once they’re officially together. It’s easy to say that within Johnny’s faction, if he happens to have a large amount of pent up rage, she’s the first to be called to settle him down.

First it’s her soft voice luring him back into the world, and then it’s her soft touch against his palm, her fingers tracing simple yet meaningful words into his palm while she counts down. That’s one of the few things that she does to calm him down.

The other is during their more private moments, when it’s just the two of them. Being on his lap helps soothes his more humane thoughts of losing her, and the sweet and simple kisses are what truly melt him.

He absolutely will without a doubt become putty in her hands after 2-3 solid sweet kisses. Though the key to this is eye contact and reassuring smiles.

Though it is harder to bring him down to the ground once his emotions flip to his more...sporadic emotions, it’s the same nonetheless, except a much more blunt way of handling things. A strong yank down and a firm kiss is all it really takes to melt him back into her hands, and she’s learned to keep him in place until he melts.

ɢʏʀᴏ ᴢᴇᴘᴘᴇʟɪ

For Gyro, he isn’t opposed to the relationship. Rather he welcomes it with open arms! Their meeting is purely coincidental. During one of Gyro’s mock experiments with a live subject, she had waltzed in with a couple of heavy injuries.

Thankfully they weren’t fatal, but she was pretty certain the blood loss aided in getting her through the ordeal of having to stare at a screaming person whilst the mad doctor treated her wounds; and because of that he ticks her off in his mental box as someone of interest.

As time passes and her visits frequent, with each visit getting much more bizarre every time, the closer the pair become. He questions her, probes her, and dissects every word she utters for a better understanding as to why she acts and responds the way she does around him, and to say the least he becomes absolutely starstruck when he realizes that she doesn’t mind his grotesque work, and is actually interested in his research aspect.

Thus, they spend more time in his office reviewing over his old files as he understands the operating room isn’t for everyone, and that’s when he realizes that even the mad doctor himself has some weak and soft spots.

It starts off as a simple brush against his ear. The way her fingers delicately brush his hair out of his face and the affectionate eyes she held towards him.

The next is when he allows her to play and brush his hair. It’s almost comical how it comes about, but in the end he naturally becomes putty in her hands when he’s seated before her and her fingers begin to work their magic on his hair.

But if there is one thing that will always be considered as his most prized and valuable possession, it would be a small spherical orb. It’s unique shape and functions amusing him as she gifted him the little trinket; and let it be known that whoever touches it besides him or her, they would never see the light of day or another human being ever again.

ᴅɪᴇɢᴏ ʙʀᴀɴᴅᴏ

Cunning to a fault, Diego has no qualms intermingling with his underlings within his faction. Rather he relishes in the fact that he can blend in with their crowds with ease.

That’s exactly how he met her. A sort of routine clean-up and check-up that he planned in his mind as he evaluated each of his underlings. Who would fail and who would pass? It was a game he enjoyed in his past time, and the looks of horror he sees when they realize it’s him is what brings him the most joy. The moment when their minds are in a frazzled and weak state.

Yet with her he didn’t exactly see that. Yes, he had managed to surprise her with his sudden appearance, but unlike most it took a second longer for him to pry into her mind; unlike the rest of the underlings he had managed to check off. Thus, she ended up being promoted to a higher ranking underling.

Eventually, he finds himself frequently checking up on her. His reports stacking up as his observations become almost obsessive with her, and he’s absolutely shocked when she confronts him about it. It brings a coy smirk to his face knowing that he has such a valuable asset in his arsenal.

With time, he comes to terms with his emotions and realizes that he has fallen in love with his subordinate, and her with his strange yet endearing self.

The way Diego falls and melts is...in a sense peculiar. It’s rather comical in one sense, and very sad in another as his upbringing is shone more in the light. He adores affection, despite the front he puts up against it, he absolutely loves it.

The moments that melt him the most is when he’s curled up next to her watching a documentary on dinosaurs. His arms wrapped loosely around her waist and his head laying on her shoulder will always bring him at ease, and her gentle hands against his back always help in bringing him down from a stressful day.

As for any sudden weaknesses or melting points, it would be the nape of his neck. A quick kiss or teasing blow of air will have him struggling and stumbling over himself. Make no mistake, if she does this in a public area, he won’t hesitate to ravage her right then and there.

ɢɪᴏʀɴᴏ ɢɪᴏᴠᴀɴɴᴀ

Due to his upbringing, Giorno is a man of secrets and respect. Unlike the eldest Dio, he’s much more compassionate to his underlings like Jonathon and in a sense, Diego. He’s patient and loves to hear of what goes on in his subordinate’s minds.

Be it for the greater good or the worst he finds the information valuable and handy in any sort of situation that may arise in the future. He meets her on a whim, it’s during her rookie training and hazing when he faces her, and is quite impressed to say the least when she holds her own rather well against the veteran underlings.

He ends up frequently checking up on her, having her stop by to provide her reports in person as well as telling him of any troubles within the lower ranks of his faction. Though to his absolute surprise-- one of the few times he can be caught off guard-- she’s not someone who came for the Joestar family, but the new Passione gang.

To say the least he’s smitten right then and there. After all, Passione was his own work, his own undoing and rebuilding. None of his siblings had really stepped foot into helping him and it proved to be one of his greater accomplishments.

Eventually, he finds himself aching for her daily talks, and finds himself smiling every so often after she leaves. He’s told by Bruno, and he too can agree it’s an odd soft spot he’s grown.

Though once together, the little ticks and habits Giorno has is exploited fully by her. She doesn’t hesitate to put him in his place and will help in any way she can to calm him down if he’s enraged, but god help her if he ever is enraged.

The one thing that will absolutely melt Giorno’s facade is in the little moments in their shared room. If he’s laying on his stomach topless, she’ll paint beautiful pictures or words with watercolor. The intimate moment is something Giorno always looks forward to no matter the skill level of his significant other as the ministrations and her humming will always bring him into a new plane of existence.

A surprising way to bring him down or to exploit his weakness, is by tugging his hair down/up to eye level roughly it brings him pain, but also an awakening to what he’s been doing and how he should actually be handling a situation.

#jjba x reader #jjba headcanons #yakuza au #au #johnny joestar x reader #johnny joestar #gyro zeppeli x reader #gyro x reader #gyro zeppeli #diego brando x reader #diego brando #diego x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 15: Midnight Manhattan]

A/N: Hi y’all! Thank you so much for your patience and support. I think it’ll be worth it...this chapter has something you’ve been waiting for. Only three more chapters left after this one! 💜

Chapter summary: A family visit turns awkward, Chrissie loses her cool, Roger and Y/N have a difficult conversation, John tells the truth.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies, miscarriage, cute kids, drama, angst, more drama, more angst.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen @anotheronewritesthedust1 @pomjompish @writerxinthedark @culturefiendtrashqueen @allauraleigh@deakydeacy

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

They say losing a child will destroy a marriage, and you’re sure that’s often true; but it didn’t destroy yours.

Roger is the only one who can truly understand—who can feel that same aching and eternal, ravening absence in his bones—because he’s the only one who lost her too. He mourns with you, he stays awake through long nights with you, and when the future seems too oppressively bleak to imagine he drags you back into the light with tired daybreak smiles exchanged over mugs of tea and songs plucked on his acoustic guitar by the roaring fireplace, stories and jokes, walks through the green trellises of Hyde Park and the marble halls of the British Museum filled with ancient treasures stolen from Egypt and India and the Yucatan Peninsula, Italy and Greece, leaving craters of hollow memory littered across the planet like the imprint of the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs.

Together you bury her ashes in the garden behind the Surrey house. John brings you a pot of white calla lilies, and when the weather warms you plant them beside the small black stone carved with two names you never speak: Joan Aurora. Together you watch the blossoms grow up and grow old and wither back into the earth like everything does when the clock runs out, when the universe claims back the debt of life we borrow thinking that we own it. And through it all Roger is so persistently kind and patient and present that you’re willing to try for another pregnancy, despite the odds stacked against you like moving boxes, despite the crushing heartache that another loss would entail; despite your fearful, growing suspicion that in both casinos and the genetic lottery, the house always wins.

It never happens again, and you reach a sort of peace with this; but it’s a peace that makes you feel small and immaterial, like when you think too much about how vast the universe really is, like when you wake up restless before the dawn and wander out onto the cracked cobblestones in the garden as the sun burns the darkness off the world from east to west, watching the stars as they vanish in a sky bloodied with another world’s light.

A year passes, and then another, and then another; and every February 15th John sends you a new pot of white calla lilies to plant in the garden where other people’s children play.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Look, look, look!” Laszlo frenetically waves a crayon illustration in front of your face. On his head is the hat you knitted for him, green and featuring a large white L and with sprigs of fluffy brown hair like John’s peeking out around the edges. “I can draw like Daddy!”

It’s November 24th, 1981, and Queen is in Montreal. The band is playing two sold-out shows, one tonight and one tomorrow, and Brian and John have flown in their families for one last visit to tide their wives and children over until the touring break at Christmas. Laszlo is six years old now, Anna nearly five, Lena three, Antoni—fast asleep and presumably dreaming of such complexities as Hershey’s chocolate bars and Care Bear plushies—two; and there have been no additional Deacon children, a fact which seems to be the source of some disharmony between John and Veronica. What Laszlo has drawn with his rainbow of Crayolas most closely resembles a very chubby banana, but with black spots like a Dalmatian’s.

“Oh my goodness, you’re a young Picasso!” you exclaim. “It’s amazing! It’s a...it’s a...a...” Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up. “It’s a...giraffe...?”

“Yeah!” Laszlo confirms, grinning.

Oh thank god.

“Very impressive,” John tells you. “I would have guessed pineapple with leprosy.”

“It’s not a leopard, Daddy,” Laszlo says seriously.

“Yes of course, I didn’t say leopard, I said leprosy, which is entirely different—”

“It’s not a leopard!” Laszlo insists.

“You heard the kid, Deaks,” Roger says, winking. “No leopards. Come over here, kiddo, let me see the nice giraffe...oh yes, it is so obviously a giraffe, you can tell by the expertly placed spots...”

“You’re so good with them,” Veronica marvels, perhaps not quite approvingly, noting how Antoni is dozing peacefully against your chest, a red hat stitched with a massive A snug over his jumble of auburn hair. “He never sleeps for anyone. Not even me.”

“Being comfortable to nap on is one of my many talents.”

“It’s true,” Roger notes, smiling, combing through the knots in his brittle bleached hair.

“No, no, no, don’t try to be modest, you’ve always been fantastically good at caring for people. I remember Brian was half dead when you brought him home from that hospital in Boston.” Chrissie is sitting on the floor of the dressing room with Anna and Lena, helping to facilitate a glamorous wedding for Barbie and Ken. Teddy and Evelyn, both four years old and with massive mops of dark ringlets, are scribbling on coloring book pages of screeching dinosaurs and plunging prehistoric comets above tangles of jungle treetops.

“Hmm,” Veronica agrees lukewarmly. “You’ll be a wonderful mother to your own one day.”

You wince, bite your lower lip, peer down at Antoni’s pacific little face. His eyes, when they’re open, are a greyish blue like John’s. Chrissie kicks Veronica’s ankle and glares at her. Brian glances over from where he’s tuning his Red Special, one rangy leg propped up on a chair.

“Not so sure that’s in the cards,” you demur.

“Keep praying, dear,” Veronica offers. “The Lord will provide in his own time.”

You blink at her. She stares pityingly back with infuriating, weepy eyes. Everyone is suddenly very quiet, except for Freddie; he starts humming Another One Bites The Dust and taps his white Adidas sneakers in rhythm.

“What uniquely helpful advice,” you reply.

“Well, surely one doesn’t need biological children to be fulfilled in life,” Roger tells Veronica lightly, like it’s a warning.

She looks thunderstruck, like this is such a novel concept, like Roger just shared with her the secret to time travel or immortal life. “Perhaps not, but you know...it’s so terribly important for most women.”

“How feminist,” Chrissie quips, lighting a cigarette, flicking the ashes away irritably.

John leans into Veronica. “Stop it,” you can just barely hear him say.

“It’s interesting you would bring up timing, Veronica,” you observe. “We were all so discrete about yours.”

Freddie snorts, tries to pretend it was a sneeze, smooths his moustache as he studies himself in the mirror.

“I’m just trying to help, love,” Veronica claims innocently. “All this can’t be good for you, this ceaseless globetrotting. Almost never waking up in the same place twice. The stress of it!”

“What do you want her to do?” Roger snaps. “Sit at home nine or ten months out of the year and, what, scrub the windows until I come back? Take up watercolor painting? Knit the world’s largest quilt?”

“I’m just saying that less physical and emotional strain might help with the situation.”

“Because you’re a freaking doctor, right?” Roger flares. Chrissie kicks Veronica again.

“People should spend more time close to home,” she continues, undaunted. “There’s nothing more important than family. Look at me, I should have another on the way by now, but the band’s schedule is simply murderous...”

“Trying for a football team?” you inquire. And in the same moment you realize: This isn’t about me at all. This is about her and John.

Freddie is still humming, modelling his Superman tank top and tight white jeans in the mirror, cinching and re-cinching his belt, sliding a red sweatband unto one wrist. The kids—all except the unconscious Antoni—are giggling and pushing each other around on the slippery linoleum floor, seemingly oblivious. John whispers something to Veronica, his face dark and furious.

“John should be home more,” she bursts out. “For me, for the children—”

Roger scoffs and rolls his eyes. “For christ’s sake, lady, he’s not your bloody lapdog!”

“You don’t really need him,” she protests, almost pleads. “He’s just the bassist, he thought this would be a hobby to fill his time on weekends when he was in school, he didn’t sign up to live this way and Queen could find another bassist and you don’t need him—”

“We do need him! He’s not just some bassist! He’s a genius and he’s irreplaceable and there’s absolutely no Queen without him, we swore to it, I’d leave if he ever did!”

“You did what?!” Brian exclaims. Freddie hums louder, stomping his sneakers to the beat, mock-boxing with his reflection in the mirror. John raises his eyebrows at Roger as if he had assumed Rog wouldn’t remember that, assumed he had never really meant it. Roger, flushed, fumbles with his lighter and finally lights a cigarette on his third attempt.

Antoni stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and Chrissie swoops in to take her turn holding him. She bounces him on her hip as she sashays around the dressing room, casting fierce scowls alternately at Veronica and John and Roger.

“You don’t understand,” Veronica hurls at Roger, lashing out like a cornered animal, her voice raw and splintering. “You’ve never sacrificed anything. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of just falls into your lap. No heartache. No consequences. You don’t know what it’s like to be one of the people who get burned.”

“You don’t know anything about me—!”

“Look, I get it,” you tell Veronica. “You want John to yourself. Anyone would. You want a normal life. But that’s the tradeoff when you love someone brilliant, isn’t it? You have to learn how to share them with the world. Because the world is so much better off with them in it.”

Veronica glowers, venomous and spiteful. She’s wearing makeup tonight, quite heavy makeup; she’s started doing that with increasing frequency. “I have no intention of sharing a husband the way you’ve had to.”

Roger stands, stalks to Veronica, towers over her, blows smoke into her stunned face. “Ma’am,” he says quietly, so the children won’t hear. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Okay, darlings!” Freddie flits over, pulls Roger away, fluffs his hair and straightens his black smock-like shirt as Roger glares around Fred’s shoulder at Veronica. “Fabulous. You look like a ten-year-old about to make a papier-mâché vase for his mum in art class. I adore it. Off you go.” He pushes open the door to the hallway and shoves Roger through it.

Roger nods for you to follow him, and you do.

John frowns as you pass him. I’m so sorry, that expression says.

You shake your head in reply. Not your fault.

Roger slips his arm around your waist as you disappear into the hallway with him.

“That fucking miserable, judgmental, delusional, dogmatic bitch—”

“Shhhhh.” You cup his feverish cheek with your left hand, weighty with the ruby ring he gave you four years ago in New Orleans, and yank the white bandana out of his back pocket with your right. Then you knot it around his neck, smiling. “There. Now you look a little more rock and roll.”

“You’re not mad?” he asks in disbelief. “How are you not mad?”

“She’s clearly very unhappy. I feel sorry for her.” You tug on the bandana gently, fondly. You can hear Chrissie chastising Veronica behind the closed door of the dressing room. “Don’t let it ruin your show.”

“No, I would never.” But his eyes are still distant, unsettled, anxious in a way that is rare for him. “You are a freakishly good person, you know that?”

“I try. Don’t forget to smile so I can get some good pictures.”

“Oh, I’ll smile plenty. Just like this.” A grin splits through his face, and the Roger you know and love is back: bright, triumphant, flashing the daggerish points of his canine teeth. Then he draws you into him and kisses you, his rough hands in your hair, his lips smiling against yours. “Love of my life,” he whispers, rather pensively.

He shakes out his right arm—the one with the jagged scar along the soft vulnerable underside, the one he broke in a stairwell in Yokohama in the spring of 1975—and stretches the hand a few times. And you find yourself wondering, as you always do when he seems distracted like he does now, before he starts staying out late into the night, before he starts coming home drunk or high or not at all: Is he getting bad again? Is he?

I would never have to worry about that if I had married someone like John.

You fling that thought, that inconvenient and perpetual thought, back into the shadows where it came from; like a pebble tossed into the misted tree line of a forest, like a shell pitched into the sea.

“Rog, are you—?”

“I’m fine,” he cuts you off like a blade.

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s someone screaming out in the hallway.

You reel out of bed in the darkness, step into your slippers, yank on your fuzzy white robe. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 4:11 a.m. Roger and Brian had stayed for one more round of drinks at the club when you and Chrissie left to go back to the hotel, Chrissie to relieve her nanny from kid duty, you to quiet a budding headache. You note—with a vague, drowsy sort of dread—that Roger is not in the bed beside you, his hair a disheveled blond mess peeking from beneath the covers, snoring softly, his calloused hands outstretched towards yours. Beyond the door there are earsplitting clashes of broken glass, thumps and pounding footsteps, people shouting. And now you can recognize Chrissie’s voice, shrieking and wrathful: “Now you’ve done it, now you’ve really done it, you’re going to fucking kill her!”

You throw open the door to see Roger crouched against the hallway wall, covering his head with his hands; he is surrounded by shards of glass, tiny hotel shampoo and mouthwash bottles, Bibles ripped from nightstand drawers. He’s dripping with what smells like a combination of every kind of alcohol you’ve ever tasted, and maybe some you haven’t as well.

“I wish she’d never fucking met you!” Chrissie screams, launching a bottle of Grey Goose from the minibar in her room at Roger. It explodes against the wall just above his head, and glass and vodka rain down on him. Brian is unsuccessfully attempting to coax Chrissie back into their room as she ignores him. “I wish she’d never stepped off that fucking plane because the day she agreed to come to London with you was the worst day of her life!”

“Will you stop?!” Roger yells. “Jesus christ, Chris!”

“She saved you,” Chrissie hisses, landing an elbow into Brian’s gut and sending him flying backwards. “She saved your life and this is how you repay her, you disgusting degenerate bastard!”

A bottle of Captain Morgan hits the wall and detonates two inches from Roger’s face.

“What’s going on?!” you shout at Chrissie, your arms crossed over your chest.

A few rooms down the hallway, a door opens and Freddie wanders out in a pink kimono. After a moment, John and Veronica appear from their own room in their pajamas, rubbing bleary eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep so I phoned my mum and guess what’s on the cover of the News Of The World this week.” Chrissie points at Roger. “Go on. Tell her. Tell her what you did.”

He knows; he doesn’t say anything, but he knows. You can see that he does. It’s lurking in the shallow cerulean pools of his glistening eyes like a shadow, like a ghost.

“What did you do?” John asks him, mystified.

Roger doesn’t answer. He’s looking at you, at Chrissie, back to you. It isn’t often that Roger is fearful, acutely and bone-rattlingly afraid; but he is now.

“Fine, you don’t want to own up to it? I’ll do it. I’ll tell her, you coward.” Chrissie spins to you. “Dominique Beyrand is seven months pregnant.”

I’m surrounded by goddamn mothers. “Okay. Good for her.”

Chrissie waits for it to hit you. And then it does.

Oh. Oh.

“Bleeding christ,” you hear Freddie sigh, rubbing his forehead. Veronica covers her gaping mouth with one pale hand, and she doesn’t look smug or vindicated or condemnatory; she looks terrified. John is watching you, you can see him on the periphery of your vision; you are dimly aware of him edging closer as you gaze at Roger, your eyes wide and blurring with tears, your throat burning.

You can’t understand it, can’t imagine it, and then suddenly you can: his fingers threading through her glossy black hair, his lips skating over her neck, promises whispered through nightscape phone calls, haphazard lies whispered to you; reckless, small-boned, doe-eyed children with Dom’s olive skin and Roger’s sharp little canine teeth.

This is the part where I wake up. This is the part where it turns out to be just a hellacious dream.

But you don’t wake up, because this is real.

“Oh,” you exhale, brainlessly, helplessly.

Roger doesn’t sputter some desperate apology, he doesn’t beg you to forgive him. He stares at you with huge, starry blue eyes, booze dripping from his hair, surrender etched into the concave slump of his back and shoulders.

You ask him, already knowing the answer: “It’s not just a fling, is it?”

“No,” he replies miserably. “I thought it was, but it isn’t.”

You nod, those first hot tears spilling down your cheeks. “Okay,” you concede, your words brittle and fracturing. “I’ll file as soon as we get back to London.” File for divorce. File this entire misadventure away in my mind as a horrific and juvenile mistake. Shred the good memories into oblivion so I can’t remember how alive he once made me feel.

That seems to bother Roger, jolts him into urgency. The white bandana is still tied around his neck. “You don’t have to do that—”

“Are you fucking joking?” you pitch at him. “Are you not done humiliating me yet? Am I not ruined enough? Do I somehow still look remotely whole to you?”

John’s hand closes around your wrist. “Don’t,” he tells you gently.

Roger begins: “I never wanted to hurt—”

“But you did,” you seethe, tears slithering down your face. It’s sinking in now, it’s becoming real, it’s materializing from years of gnawing distrust into fact. They were all right about him. They were always right. John’s arms circle you, holding you back as you struggle against him. “You fucking did and I forgave you like an idiot just so you could prove to me over and over and over again how exceptionally little you cared.”

“That’s not true—!”

“You’ve done enough!” Chrissie roars at him. Brian wrestles a bottle of Don Julio out of her grasp. “You deplorable slut, can’t you see that you’ve done enough?!”

Freddie approaches Roger, dusts the glinting flecks of glass out of his hair, wrenches him staggering to his feet.

“Come on,” John murmurs, towing you towards your room. Veronica is tracking him with blazing eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Go ahead, Roger!” you shout as John drags you away, as Roger is corralled into Freddie’s room. “Get clean for her, get clean for her children, tell her she’s the love of your life and marry her and give her a ring but don’t forget to remind her that none of it means a single fucking thing—!”

John stumbles with you into your hotel room. He slams the door behind him, and the world goes deathly quiet. You reel aimlessly, collapse onto the edge of the bed, dazed, staring at the bland landscape paintings on the wall, ticking down the mental list of things you’ll need to get from the Surrey house: photographs, paperwork, John’s sketches, the conch shell from Ostia.

What about the calla lilies? What about her grave?

And there’s another list as well, whether you want there to be or not; a list of things you’ll never feel again.

His teeth grazing my knuckles, his palms cradling my face, his raspy voice as he writes songs on quiet nights, the way he loved our daughter, the way he sets souls alight like wildfire.

John just stands in the middle of the hotel room, heaving in ragged breaths, his hands on his waist. And for a long time, neither of you speak at all.

“Do you want me to stay?” John says finally.

“You can’t,” you reply, thinking of Veronica and the children.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No. I’m fine. I want to be alone.”

He comes to you, lifts your chin with one careful hand, touches his forehead to yours before he leaves. “You are never going to be alone.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You hear the key clatter in the lock, and your hotel room door creaks open. You’re laying on the floor after Queen’s second show in Montreal, staring blankly up at the ceiling, counting the black dots in the tiles like stars, imagining constellations of monsters and heroes and doomed love.

John appears above you, his brow furrowed. He shuttled all of Roger’s things to Freddie’s room after you packed them up this morning, then he took Roger’s key. “What are you doing?”

“Fantasizing about my own death.”

He checks his watch. “Will you be done in twelve minutes?”

“What happens in twelve minutes?”

“We have to leave for the afterparty on a yacht.”

You groan, sitting upright, rubbing your sore and sleepless eyes with the heels of your hands. “I can’t do it, John. I don’t have it in me tonight. I can’t mingle with all of those obnoxious music industry people. ‘Yes, hi, hello, yes it’s true, I am the sad barren soon-to-be-ex-wife, oh what a charming nineteen-year-old model mistress you have on your arm there, I too was once young and desirable and disastrously stupid.’”

He smiles. “You’re still somewhat desirable.”

“Thanks.” You reach up, take his hands, let him help you to your feet.

“You realize if you don’t go I’m going to have to hide in the corner and compulsively eat miniature quiches all by myself.”

“Your enchanting wife isn’t attending?”

“She wanted to stay with the children. Also, she hates me.”

You chuckle. “She doesn’t hate you. She passionately does not hate you, which is the problem.”

“So you’ll come with me.”

You mull this over. “Can I get so drunk I forget I exist?”

“Sure. If you promise to stay near me and away from the water.”

“Yes, I suppose that you, as a convicted felon, would be high on the list of suspects if I was to go overboard.”

“Losing you would be the worst thing that ever happened to me. Who would I call to post my bail?”

You laugh as you beam up at him, knot your fingertips through his hair, see your silhouette reflected in his greyish eyes that today remind you of storm clouds, of torrential autumn rain, of thunder. “Okay. Fine. I’ll go to your torturous yacht party.”

“Aww, what a tragedy, being forced to enjoy all the trappings of stardom” John teases, and then you can see the regret wrinkle across his face; because people don’t joke about things like tragedies around you anymore.

“It’s a hard life,” you agree. “But it feels a little easier when you’re around.”

You slip into a dark blue dress and heels and your bomber jacket that doesn’t match at all. John meets you in the hallway in a black suit. You share a limo with Brian and Chrissie, who chatter nervously about anything they can think of that doesn’t involve Roger or marriage or children or love. Bri points out constellations through the open moonroof as frigid Canadian air pours in and rattles your dangling diamond earrings, whips through your hair. John smooths the runaway strands, rests his arm across the back of your seat, smiles in a tranquil sort of way and actually appears to pay attention as Brian narrates the stories of the stars and their celestial families: Pegasus, Aquarius, Pisces, tiny Triangulum, the lightning strike zigzag of Lacerta, Perseus.

“You look gorgeous,” Chrissie tells you, and she seems to mean it.

“Thank you,” you reply politely. “If only I was also French and fertile.”

The yacht is docked on the bank of the Saint Lawrence River, an island of roaring laughter and music and twinkling strands of lights in an ocean of night. John leads you onboard, waves at the photographers who douse you in flashbulb luminescence, stands with you by the railing at the stern of the vessel as it pulls out into the river. Periodically some palpably accomplished stranger will appear, shake John’s hand, start asking him about You’re My Best Friend or Another One Bites The Dust or Under Pressure; but mostly the two of you are left alone. You drain flute after flute of pink champagne as John nurses his Manhattans, debating the merits of the various appetizers; you—ever the proud Bostonian—are partial to the bite-sized lobster rolls, while John prefers the Swedish meatballs speared on puzzlingly tropical toothpick umbrellas.

Roger is on the yacht too of course, and every once in a while you catch a glimpse of his blond hair or his blush-colored polka dot suit, hear his voice carried on the cold November wind; and you ignore this as much as you can. Twice he starts migrating towards you, and you and John pretend not to notice, dart through the crowds to the other side of the boat, your hand clasped in John’s as he weaves relatively anonymously through ballgowns and suits and reporters’ microphones. And he peeks back at you, grinning, and says: “I bet you’re thrilled no one knows who I am tonight.”

Chrissie steals you away briefly to keep her company when Brian gets snared into an excruciatingly dull interview about Queen’s next album; and when Brian comes to collect her, John greets you with a fresh glass of champagne in one hand and his fourth Manhattan in the other.

“You better make sure you don’t go overboard, Mr. Deacon,” you say, taking the champagne flute and resting your forearms on the yacht’s railing as waves break against the hull. Freshwater mist peppers your cheeks, your collarbones, the backs of your hands. Through the speakers pluck the opening notes of Hotel California. “Oh god. This song.”

“Fond memories?” John asks with a smirk. “That whole night is a blur to me.”

“It makes me think of sharks for some reason. And the Olympics.”

“It makes me feel...” He considers this. “Overwhelmed with self-loathing.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re the least loathable person I’ve ever met.” You sip your champagne, gaze out into the moonlit currents that run from the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean, to the shores of every place you’ve ever called your own. “How long did Dante live in exile from Florence?”

“Twenty years.”

You whistle. “That’s a long time to be away from home.” The fingers of your left hand clutch the railing, which is gold and sturdy and stingingly cold. “I feel a little like him sometimes. Except as you get older, home starts to feel less like places and more like people.” You twist off your ruby ring, glance down at it fleetingly, and toss it out into the glistening black waters of the Saint Lawrence River.

John looks over at you. “It’s really over, isn’t it?”

You nod slowly, mournfully. “Yeah. It’s really over.”

“And how are we feeling about that?”

“Relieved. Petrified. Exhausted. Mostly I’m just sad.”

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “For everything.”

“Why? None of it was your fault.” You sigh, shake your head, peer out into the river, into the night sky, into the stars. “Maybe this is a good thing, you know? A blessing in disguise or whatever. I can move on knowing I did everything I could to salvage the marriage. I can be free. No more waiting up at night for someone who isn’t coming home. No more searching through pockets and suitcases for white powder or used needles. No more News Of The World headlines.”

John is still staring at you.

“What?” you ask, smiling warily.

He downs the rest of his Manhattan, twirls the glass as the ice cubes clink against each other. Finally, he says: “I could have given you a very different kind of life.”

Your lips, slick with gloss and tingling with sharp carbonation from the champagne, part to ask John what he means; but then you know. Your voice is a quivering, astonished whisper. “It was about me. You’re My Best Friend.”

“Yeah, it was. And most of the others were too.”

It was about me. All those years ago, that song was about me. And it still is.

“John...”

“I watched you fall in love with Roger, watched him fall in love with you. Watched this agonizing fucking dance that you do...he can’t give you what you want, you can’t be happy with less...and I just kept waiting to wake up one day and not want you anymore. And it never happened.” He laughs, briefly, bitterly. “I mean, for christ’s sake, I refused to propose to the mother of my child until I was sure you’d stay with Roger because I thought...I thought...you know, maybe. Maybe one day you’d change your mind. And I wanted to be there if you did.”

You gaze at him, soaking him in, unambiguously aware that there is no part of you that is afraid, no part of you that is shuddering or surrendering or apprehensive; there is no instinctive chorus begging you not to fall in love with him. There’s no sensation of falling at all. It feels like you’re somewhere you’ve never left.

“I know that next to someone like Roger Taylor I don’t look like much,” John confesses. “That I don’t feel like much. That I don’t light anything up the way he does. And if you can’t imagine a future with someone who isn’t him, someone who isn’t like him...then I completely accept that. But you’re always going to feel like home to me.”

You’re My Best Friend. You And I. Spread Your Wings. In Only Seven Days. Need Your Loving Tonight.

They were all about me. They were always about me.

“John...”

You don’t know what to say. You know exactly what to say.

From the crowd, a man dressed in a blue pinstripe suit and holding a Cuban cigar bellows for John. He whirls, offers a shy wave, trots over to say hello. But as they discuss concerts and albums and tours, John’s eyes meet yours through the sea of strangers and cigarette smoke, through the shifting shadows cast by flickering incandescence and moonshine.

And you watch him as the constellations and all their stars rage above, the same stars that in the time of Dante sailors read to point them home.

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midnight-inthe-kitchen · 3 years

Text

“Hotel Potter” (Part 1)

Pairing: Remus x Reader (Marauders Era)

Word Count: 1313

Warnings: FLUFF, mentions of anxiety

Okay okay okay, but hear me out....

I had a dream last night and I’m going to come up with some out of the ordinary scenario to get my scene across so bear with me. (Also... I haven’t had a proper non-chaotic stressful dream in a while, so believe me when I say I woke up smiling).

“Come on, Lily...” You threw her a small suitcase you had brought home from last summer. “It’s only going to be one weekend out of the entire winter break...”

Lily groaned as she slumped off her bed to start packing. “I still can’t believe you agreed to go without telling me first. I mean everyone knows James keeps inviting me so that-”

“...You’ll actually accept one day? Yeah, we all know... We hear about it every year,” You grumble. With a content sigh, you start to pack your own clothes. “It will be really nice because it’s just going to be the eight of us and James says his parents gave him permission for us to stay the weekend and-”

“How is that more fun than sneaking out to the Black Forest every night and taking trash about people while we stay in our own school beds?” Lily cut in.

You rolled your eyes at the memory of every winter break for the past six years. “Safety equals Fun, my dear Lily.” You hummed back peacefully. “And I bet their house has a library and a nice reading corner AND a pretty view to watercolor-”

Lily scoffed at your daydreaming. “Are you sure you don’t just want to pay rent for the rest of the year? Sounds like your waiting to move into your retirement home, grandma.”

You passive-aggressively tossed one of her shirts she had let you borrow in her direction. “Oh shut up, I’m just trying to make the best out of a prolonged social experience.”

Lilly rolled her eyes. “Funny, I just thought you wanted to go because you expect Remus to be going...”

You look back instantly. “Is he not?” You ask almost upset you were packing a suitcase for a meaningless trip.

Lily smirked. “Of course he is, you absolutely hopeless romantic... I just wanted to see your face.” The both of you laughed at your embarrassed completion before making fun of her and James for a few more hours.

When everyone who was going home for the holidays had clambered back on the Hogwarts express, you could feel your heart thumping ferociously. It wasn’t like you to not get a little anxious going into any social situation, even with people you knew, but wow, you must’ve been hit with a big wave of nerves because all you could do while sitting in the compartment you promised the boys you would be seated in was try to slow your breathing. Yay.

You heard a cluster of footsteps make they’re way down the hall and you looked up to Lily who was almost asleep on her bag. She had strategically placed herself on the end of the seat and sat her bag next to her so that James wouldn’t be able to break her selective personal space bubble.

The silhouettes of three boisterous boys aligned themselves with the sliding door and an unmistakably messy haired boy pulled it open.

“Took you long enough,” Lily snapped, slowly sitting herself up to greet the new party. “I had almost fallen back asleep.”

After putting up his suitcase, James fell right into her trap. He plopped down next to her large bag and reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“There’ll be loads of time for sleeping when we get back to my hou-” Lilly slapped his hand away from her face without looking up. Sirius followed right behind him.

After putting his and Peter’s bags up, he sat right next to James and Peter took a seat on your side by the door.

Remus was a little ways behind it seemed, because while Sirius had taken his seat and propped his leg up over his knee, a loud couple of thuds echoed thought the hallway as a familiar voice stuttered and apology.

He quickly made his way to the compartment door, but dropped his suitcase right in the middle with no regard for Sirius’ feet. He also tossed torn book bag into the middle before turning in his heel and darting back through the hallway.

You stood up to peak around the corner, making sure he didn’t need any help, but saw him hunched over about five of his favorite books. He was frantically trying to pick them up as impatient mother truckers tried to skirt around or step over him.

You watched as he looked around for the last book but you managed to spot it first. “Accio,” you muttered as he watched his book fly to some unknown place.

When he stood up to find the beholder, he knew it was in safe hands and followed you back into the compartment.

You had already taken your seat again, not wanting to block the hallway any longer and watched as Sirius grumbled about having to put EvErYoNe’S suitcases away.

Of flipping coarse when Remus came in he sat down next to you (even though that was literally the only open spot, you still took it personally for some reason)... because why wouldn’t you have a comfortable train ride to the Potter’s mansion.

About an hour in to the trip, Lily had slapped various parts of James six times and Sirius had randomly laid on the floor twice. (It actually looked really nice). Instead, however, you had finished three small watercolors of the passing fields of flowers, grass, and mountains.

You think you might have overestimated how awkward it was going to be because you found yourself surprisingly at peace painting next to Remus reading.

You were startled however, when he leaned over slightly to mutter a thank you. “What?” You asked, tearing your eyes from your work. Remus’ face was a little pink, but the sun in the window was making it pretty warm in there.

“Thank you for helping with my books,” he finished, giving you a kind smile. It was nice to be recognized even if it was for something you barely helped with.

“No problem,” you you hummed back, giving him an asymmetrical warm smile. “Oh, and I can fix your bag if you want... My mum is a muggle tailor, so I know a little bit about sewing,”

He smiled but you slightly noticed his shifting gaze. “I would love that, thanks,” he laughed. “I don’t know much about fixing things...”

Your smile widened, barely letting yourself laugh because you weren’t sure if it’d be rude or not. You looked back up at him and confirmed your theory... He must hate eye contact like you did.... Sad, I know, but it’s okay for you to uncomfortable with normal things right? Yes, but your thought were cut off by Sirius’ loud mouth.

“What if I could like....... Eat the sun?” He philosophized from the floor. Remus audibly sighed before closing his book.

“You would probably die since it is about 92.4 million miles away and burns at temperatures not even your pick up lines could reach...” You spitballed to the floor.

Sirius sat up. “Your no fun...” he added, while making weird facial cues to Remus.

Remus shook his head disapprovingly and you pretended not to see anything.

“Thanks,” you answered, accepting the typical compliment you got from most everyone. “But if you were looking for a more exciting answer, I would say it would probably taste sweet and sour like white heated energy and feel like a fizzing whizbee...”

Sirius crossed his arms approvingly before taking a seat back next to James. “I was thinking more like, I would get the ability to light things on fire, but that works too.”

You heard Remus mumble something under his breath before reopening his book. “You don’t need to eat the sun to do that.”

#remus lupin #sirius black #books and libraries #funny #fanfiction #fanfic #maruaders imagine #marauders #marauders era fanfiction #harry potter #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #peter pettigrew #james potter #winter vacation #hogwarts #mary macdonald

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kitkatartstuff-moved · 3 years

Text

Kevin of the Day, Day 139!

It is. Far too late for me to draw, and I’m kind of at the point where I. do not know if I will have the energy for it for a day or so. Anyways with that in mind I’m sorry I’m so late, so have some Kevin paint hcs!

It’s recomended to him to try a low stress activity to help him get used to using his right and and in time strengthen his left!

Maybe he goes with painting! Its flowy, its a little messy , but its shouldnt be too bad, right?

Well... It’s certainly Something. His hand shakes when he holds the brush and the most he can manage with it is some roughly blended squiggles and wacky shapes. It isn’t spectacular but he’s surprised to find he doesn’t hate it.

Myabe he would paint shapes and continue with those squiggles. His therapist tells him to keep them, even the ones he doesn’t like or doesn’t consider “good.”

As time goes on, maybe some of the foxes notice his little hobby thing. Maybe Nicky sends him those tiktok art challenges out of the blue with zero context just for fun.

Kevin finds the challenge where you make a face on a wacky random shape to be a little weird and it’s not really something he enjoys, but he doesn’t Hate it.

I think that one challenge with all the lines and connecting them n shit would be very relaxing to him. There really isn’t a way to mess up, they’re simply lines connected to different parts of other lines.

Maybe as he painted for longer, he’d find he actually enjoyed it a little and start making more a than little shapes. Maybe he’d paint oranges or circular fruits to test the water, and maybe he’d try out different paints.

I think he’d like gouache and acrylic for their opaqueness and how solid their colors are, I think he wouldn’t be as fond of oils because of how easy it is to muddy the colors and how long it takes to dry. The fumes aren’t pleasant either. I think watercolor would be a little frustrating or confusing to him, its very much layering but there’s also a lot of patience in waiting for the water to dry before adding more pigment and knowing when to water down some colors and add more pigment to others. I think perhaps the easy blending and the way the colors bleed into eachother would be a little annoying to him. Maybe.

I think his strokes would be broad, but careful, I think he’d use smaller brushes, but not tiny ones. I think he’d prefer canvases to paper because canvases don’t usually warp when you add a lot of paint.

I’d like to think sometimes he’ll branch out and paint objects or even people. Maybe he’d paint them in a more abstracted way. Maybe their proportions would be a bit off, maybe it wouldn’t look quite right.

Maybe his paintings aren’t extraordinary or astonishing works of art. He’s still better than exy than he could ever be at painting, even while playing with his non dominant hand. But maybe that doesn’t matter. I think that while he wouldn’t consider them to be good, he’d maybe find that it didn’t really matter anyway. These were for him, not for anyone else, and I think maybe he’d realize that he can do something simply for the act of doing it, and that maybe some part of him finds painting to be a bit relaxing!

I don’t know if he would go out of his way to show them to anyone, though it is pretty unlikely that Andrew or Neil have not seen them. I just think it would be nice for him to realize that he doesn’t have to excel at something to like it. ANYWAYS, if you’re at the end of my post, 1) i’m so sorry, this was. a lot of rambling oops. my filter kind of disappeared. 2) Thank you for reading this far lmao love you guys, sorry again for how late this is!

#kevin of the day #i might do a thing with the rest of the foxes and painting? I have some ideas....#kevin day #kat.txt #aftg

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olruggioofthetorch · 3 years

Note

sorry you know me I like to ask a million questions so here it goes- Tinsel:5,18,20,27,31,39,40 / Nila:13,28/Roman:11,6,7/Benji:4,19/Saoirse: 20,25,27 /Fionn: 6,7,10,33/ Scone:21,23 - sorry can’t remember the other siblings off the top of my head and these are the major ones anyway right haha? and this is a lot of questions anyway soooo

Ooo we're getting into the selkies tonight

Tinsel

5. What was their childhood fear?

Being alone or left behind. It was definitely a threat when they were a kid like "if you aren't on the caravan before we leave at noon, we're leaving you behind". I don't think their parents would have actually left them behind when they were small but it was enough of a threat that they and their siblings listened for the most part. Its not so much a childhood fear as it is a regular adult fear now.

18. If they could live or visit anywhere, where would they go?

Tinsel really likes where they live but they do have dreams about living on a sunny coast with their partners when they all settle down. Idk if there's anywhere specific they want to visit? They just go where the adventure leads them. I think they would like to visit somewhere to meet up with their family, tho.

20. What did they dream of "growing up" to be?

Oh man, Tinsel wanted to be an A List celebrity actor. They wanted to be lead role in blockbusters. It was a big goal for them but they were sure they could do it.

27. Have they achieved any of their childhood dreams? Are they still trying? Have those dreams changed?

They've gotten some of their childhood dreams! They moved to Holly Bay and made tons of friends. They got to act in live theater. They were almost in a movie! They got some notoriety from adventuring and were on TV for it. They got to kiss their childhood crush. They didn't quite make it to the A List after getting blacklisted but they're def still trying.

In regards to how they changed: I don't think they changed too much but they did see how hard it was to achieve them. Plus, they started dreaming about having a family when they were with Bast so that's definitely something they want now.

31. Who are they when they aren't with the party?

When they're not with the party, Tinsel is way less open about themself. They're a master of either talking around a question or lying by omission and they use it when they don't feel comfortable sharing. Pre-adventure, they didn't really even tell their closest friends the entire truth about their backstory (which is honestly buckwild and hard to believe anyway) or their relationship with Bast or really anything about their love/sex life.

I think it's bc they don't think Kira and Zona will judge them.

39. If someone could tell them anything about the future they asked, would they want to know? Would they ask?

I think they have actually, they asked if they were going to get married. I don't think they would want to ask something super serious because they aren't going to listen to a no.

40. What sets them free?

A good support system. Tinsel's very talented and driven but they need the power of friendship to keep them from burning out.

Nila

13. How do they like to spend afternoons free?

Nila likes to paint. She dipped her toe into art forgery for a little bit but decided it was more fun to steal the real thing and do her own work on the side. She has one of those cute little travel watercolors she uses to paint landscapes when she gets some time alone. Absolutely no one knows she has this hobby.

28. If they could change their class(es), would they? To what?

I dont think she'd change her class from rogue but she would def take some wizard skills.

Roman

11. What were their teenage years like?

He was a horrible teenage boy, mostly bc he wanted attention. He started off with red hair but occasionally made it redder when he got teased about it. He activated the Cain instinct in a lot of his siblings but I think Tinsel tried to kicked his ass the most purely due to how close their ages are. He shot them with an arrow by accident once and never lived it down.

His mom taught him archery at around 14-15 and he got very good at it to try and impress her. He left home around 18/19, picked up some odd jobs/repaired archery equipment professionally for a few years until Nila called him up like "hey bro miss you let's do this heist together".

6. Did they grow up with siblings? What were those relationships like?

Yes lmao my boy has 9 siblings. I sort of talked about this in the last question but yeah he liked to stir the pot for attention. Even though they tried to kick his ass, his siblings still love him. Him and Saoirse always got along really well and I'm p sure she stopped him from actually getting murdered as a kid lol. He really doesn't have a bad relationship with any of them, though, besides still owing Scone a bunch of money. Rome's a lot of fun and he's the kind of guy who will give or share anything with you. He is just A Lot.

7. How were their relationships with their parents/guardians growing up?

He def knew he wasn't the favorite child lol. I think once Knox realized why his kid was acting up, he made sure to spend some extra time with him every once and a while. And once he showed promise in archery, his relationship with Fulki got better too. I think he has an okay relationship with his parents right now but he definitely would never live with them again.

Benji

4. Who was their childhood hero?

Their dad! They're very similar people and he looks up to him a lot.

19. How does the high noon sun make them feel?

Sleepy... It's too darn hot. He's 100% not interested in going out at high noon so he's either taking a nap or hanging out somewhere shady with Folsom.

Saoirse

20. What did they dream of "growing up" to be?

I don't know if Saoirse had one specific dream. What she did know is that she didn't want to get married and she didn't want to have kids. I think she went through a bunch of phases on what she wanted to be when she grew up until she landed on being a wizard. When that stuck, she just leaned hard into it.

25. What is their comfort item/habit?

She's definitely one of those "make a hot beverage when I'm stressed" kind of people. She's also a stress baker... Which used to be a "make potions and light stuff on fire" habit but she realized she gets muffins if she bakes instead.

She also has a bunch of stuffed animals in her room, purely because she's an adult wizard and no one can tell her not to have stuffies.

27. Have they achieved any of their childhood dreams? Are they still trying? Have those dreams changed?

Oh, she totally achieved the wizard thing and now she's a real Howl Pendragon figure. She got bored being by herself so she applied to get some apprentices, but due to a clerical error, she wound up with a couple of brothers (Max and Arseny) who were way too young to be apprentices. She's basically raising them as her kids (they call her mama and the Townes all consider them grandkids/nephews lol) but Saoirse insists they're still her apprentices in public.

Fionn

6. Did they grow up with siblings? What were those relationships like?

Fionn was the golden oldest brother! He and Saoirse were basically 3rd/4th parents so the rest of the siblings came to love/respect him. He was really good at keeping the peace. Dude would have made a fantastic diplomat. The siblings especially liked when he told them stories about life before their family left the Muirs or stories about knights/heroes. It was a rough day when he disappeared and the siblings that remember him really miss him.

7. How were their relationships with their parents/guardians growing up?

Very strained. Like, he was def the favorite child, but Fionn really had some childhood trauma from The Fall that they couldn't help him with bc they also had it. He sort of resents that he got put into the auxiliary parent role on top of it. I think ultimately they expected way too much out of him so it was only natural he'd disappear and be feral.

10. When did their childhood end?

I don't think it was a definite ending, more of a gradual thing around his early teens when he realized he had a lot of responsibilities.

Scone

21. How did they become an adventurer?

Scone's best friend Latte (a Yuke who's good with magic) sent her a letter that suggested they'd make a good caravanning team. She was itching to leave the family caravan (she was tired of bailing her siblings out and knew that adventuring was good money) so she agreed!

23. What is their role in the party? Not just their class on a meta level, but among the individuals who make up the party?

Imagine a buff accountant and you have Scone lol.

Like Tinsel, Scone is the tank in combat. However, unlike Tinsel, Scone is weirdly responsible. She makes sure all the supplies are stocked and in order, makes sure everyone takes care of themselves and she keeps track of their earnings. She can be outgoing but she prefers to let her team do the social leg work.

#This is a big one omg but I loved it #Thank u Marlo #Gwen asks #Tinsel T Townes #Nila Townes #Roman Townes #Benji Townes #Saoirse Townes #Fionn Townes

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

Hidden Shapes

AO3

...

He runs.

He runs past Patton, he shoves open his door, locks it behind him, then lunges through the portal hidden under his bed that Remus had installed years ago, when he’d first moved to the light side, a shortcut to his imagination, to the dark side. He pulls the trapdoor shut behind him, landing on the forest floor with barely a sound.

Colors are brighter, stranger, he’s pretty sure in this form he can actually see colors others can’t, see at a spectrum impossible for humans, since he isn’t, not really. That thought chokes a sob out of him, though it comes out as more of a growling hiss, and he throws himself back into movement, speeding across the ground, jumping up, into the trees, when they become too dense, seeing the cliff approaching, but not slowing, he braces himself, springs, his stomach flip flopping as he drops-

Then he shoots his web and latches onto the trees on the other side, swinging across the canyon. If he were in a better mood, he’d be laughing right now, at the feel of the wind, at moving so fast, at letting himself go, more than he has in years, letting himself go feral, but he isn’t, his heart is pounding and his breath is speeding and he’s moving, faster and faster, and faster-

Then, suddenly, there’s no more trees.

He doesn’t have time to stop his momentum. He manages to web the ground, before he crashes onto it, letting his shoulder impact first, easily slipping into a barrel roll, before losing control and tumbling across the earth, head spinning as he finally comes to a stop, hissing through clenched teeth as he sits up, taking in the damage.

His shoulder is bruised to hell, and scraped raw and bloody, and so are his legs, his hands, though his appendages are intact. There’s a gash on his forehead, and he curses, pulling his sleeve over his hand, pressing it against the wound to try and staunch the bleeding, letting out another hissing breath at the ache in his chest, a bruised or cracked rib.

He’s crying. He doesn’t know when it started, he feels too numb to cry, but he is, a steady, endless flow of tears that wash down his face, and he squeezes his eyes closed, doubling over, legs closing in around him, hiding him from view.

“Hello, little one.” He nearly jumps, at the sudden low and sonorous voice, but he doesn’t care, he simply curls tighter, trying to suppress the pathetic whimper trying to escape his lips. “You aren’t one of the usual resident monstrosities of Remus’s design. Are you new?” He flinches hard, this time, realizing what he’s being mistaken for, because he must truly look horrendous, and Patton, god, Patton, not to mention Roman, once he hears, and Logan will just want to study him, dissect him, like some specimen, he doesn’t want to be the monster, he isn’t, he isn’t, he isn’theisn’theisn’t- “Let me take a look at you, darling. I can help make it better.” He pulls his legs in tighter, shaking, forcing words to his lips.

“N-no. G-g-go away.” He hisses, and he hears a sharp inhale.

“Anxiety. You… aren’t supposed to be here.” He laughs, at that, a cold, hard, bitter laugh.

“look at me. Where else could I go?” He bares his fangs, eyes flashing and shadows growing as he feels hands pushing aside his legs, gently tipping his chin up, meeting the orange cat’s eyes of the dragon witch.

“I remember a time when you wore this form more often than not. You and Remus were feral little things, more beast than man, some days, all shadowy blobs of too many teeth and limbs and claws, with your venomous bites and poison laced scratches, I remember when you’d spend hours, weaving the most wonderous tapestries, that sparkled so brilliantly, in the morning dew. Or ones near invisible, that would trip up Remus, as he tried to invade your lair. Once you wouldn’t have consolidated monstrous, with evil, they are different. Plenty of monstrous things are still beautiful, after all. Plenty of monstrous things are still smart, and kind, and sweet, little one. I would have hoped that to be a lesson you remembered, still.” Her words are soft and gentle as she caresses his cheek, a tender smile on her lips. “I haven’t forgotten, my tiny terror.” He folds, falling into her open arms and sobbing, letting it all go, as her near black wings enfold them both, her tail gently coiling around his feet. She doesn’t say anything, simply holds him, rocks him as he cries, promising safety with her steady presence, her slightly hotter than normal warmth. “I gather from your state you don’t want to go back to the world?” He shakes his head frantically, not moving from his place in her arms. “alright, darling. Hold on tight, for a moment.” He feels a slight vertigo, the world running like a watercolor painting, before resettling to a homey looking cottage, a fire lit and providing gentle warmth, the floors covered in soft rugs, the smell of cinnamon and something else, something warm and fizzing and popping in the air. Magic.

“If you want tea, you’ll have to let go.” He does with a slightly rueful smile, one she adores, and she brushes back his hair, before moving to put the kettle on, getting her favorite teacup from the cupboard, along with a black and white chipped jack Skellington mug.

“you still have that?” He says, voice coming out hoarse, as he pulls himself into one of the surprisingly comfy wooden chairs surrounding the small table in the kitchen, watching as she bustles about.

“Of course. I hoped I’d have occasion to use it again. Though I admit I hoped it would be under better circumstances.” He winces, looking away.

“sorry. For not visiting. I… I should have. Me and Ree hadn’t been on the best terms, for… well, for a while. I didn’t want to chance being caught here by myself.”

“Yes. I heard all about it, believe me. He fluctuated between grief, despair, and unmitigated rage, before settling on a scarily distant disdain. Any mention of you and he just… shut down.”

“sorry.” He whispers again, to her soft huff.

“Stop apologizing, darling. I’m not placing blame or accusing. I know you had your reasons. Now, let me have a look at you, we can’t have those getting infected, and you know they will.” He groans, wincing as he pulls his sleeve away from his forehead.

“But it stings!” He whines, making her laugh, as she gathers the warm water and soft hand towel.

“You’ve had worse, Anxiety. And unless you want me to summon Remus to instant heal you, we’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.” Her voice is slightly stern now, the same tone Patton always takes, when scolding them or breaking up a fight, and he smiles slightly, glancing up at her.

“alright. It’s, um, Virgil, now, by the way.” She smiles, coming around the table and gently dabbing away the dried blood from the gash, wincing in sympathy as he grits his teeth, before patting it dry and securing gauze. “Ah. It suits you, I think." He pulls up his pants to reveal his skinned knees, his shins peppered with scrapes, though nothing there is hurt too badly, though it still stings like a son of a gun. They’re just finishing looking at his shoulder, her turning away to get an icepack for it, when he hears the tell tale swing of the doggy door, small scratching against the mat in the entryway.

“Oh, god-“ He manages to just barely brace himself, as a ball of icy silvery blue barrels into his chest, knocking his chair over backwards, sending his arms pinwheeling before he collides with the floor, his fall slowed slightly by a quick spell, that lowers him gently the last inch to avoid concussing him. He doesn’t have time to thank her, however, as his face is getting destroyed by licks, and he can’t get a word out edgewise, between his pleas to stop, and his gasping laughter.

“Nilas, stop, down girl, NiNi!” He laughs, finally managing to get the large cat sized dragon under control, though her tail still whipped wildly, and when he rolled out of the chair to sit up on the floor, she instantly climbed his shirt, draping herself around his shoulders, tail hanging off one, curling around his upper bicep to keep herself steady, her head resting on her paws on his other. He laughs again at her low, contented chuffing, the equivalent of a dragon purr, as he scratches her head. “Happy to see me, huh?” She buts her head against his cheek in response, before giving it one more lick, before laying back down on her paws, though her head stays tucked up against his face.

“Yeah. I missed you too, Nilas.” He mumbles, pain forgotten in the face of a happy dragon snuggling against him, a soothing, perfect weight that grounds him, helps him breathe a little easier against the stress slowly fading away. He rights the chair and slips back into it, taking the mug that she sets in front of him.

“Roman still giving you trouble?” He asks, after a few moments in comfortable silence, taking a sip of the tea, which is deep and herbal, just a hint of sweetness from the honey. She scowls, and he can hear her tail sweeping across the floor.

“Don’t get me started. I enjoy playing his games, but that boy has not given me a moments peace. Do you know how hard it is, to swap into evil enchantress mode, when your nemesis has showed up in the middle of you baking? I had a pie in the oven and I couldn’t stop worrying it was going to burn.”

“did it?” he asks, grinning.

“No. I told him he’d better stop wasting his time with me, and worry about my agents infiltrating the castle, and he took off. There weren’t any, of course, from what I understand he had a lovely game of whodunnit about the royal crown, though it turned out he’d simply misplaced it.” Virgil laughed, imagining Roman frantically running around, accusing random townspeople, making one of those red string conspiracy cork boards, only to find it under his bed.

“Oh, that’s amazing.” He finally wheezes through his giggling, taking another long sip of his tea, before yawning hugely.

“alright, enough catching up. To bed with you.”

“but-"

“uh, uh, uh, you know the drill. You’ll be falling out of the chair soon, anyway.” She teases gently, helping support him as he stands, a bit wobbly on his feet, another yawn impossible to stifle sneaking through.

“Curse my traitorous body.” He mutters, making her laugh, as he lays down on the cot in the dark corner of the living room, pulling all the fluffy blankets up so high they nearly cover his head, Nilas circling a few times, before curling up snuggled against his chest, kneading her paws contentedly.

“sweet dreams, tiny terror.” She murmurs, kissing his forehead fondly, as his eyes flutter shut. “sleep well. You could use it.”

“mhm. Thanks, Tabitha. Love you.” He mumbles, drifting off, a small smile on his lips as he rests his head against Nilas.

She smiles, stroking his hair a few more times before pulling away, a low sigh slipping from her lips.

Well. No doubt Remus would appear soon, and he could explain what had sent Virgil into such a tizzy, though no doubt it was something to do with the others. He wouldn’t have been so scared of himself, otherwise. He was never scared of himself, until he started hanging around them. He used to revel in causing mayhem, tearing through the imagination, scrapping with Remus, winning, more often than not, on his own merit. He was such a small little shadow, but so fierce, with those eyes of his, peeking guardedly through his mop of hair, an almost perpetual frown on his face, always braced for the worst.

But he was kind, too. The first day she'd come across him alone, he’d glared at her, hissed, baring his fangs and scuttling backwards, ready to bite.

She’d knelt down, almost as surprised to see him as he clearly was to see her.

“hello, little one. What are you doing, out here alone?” He hadn’t answered, merely continued to glare, tensed to spring or run. She’d hummed, looking around, the field was full of knee high grass, his head barely poking above the stalks, wildflowers filling the space, butterflies (both literal and figurative) drifting through the air. A distant shout rang through the imagination, an echo of whatever turmoil was occurring up in the rest of the mind, and he flinched, curling in on himself, breath catching.

“ah. Trying to find some quiet, until the storm blows over.” The little shadow nodded, watching a bee struggle to stay atop a flower blowing in the breeze, before reaching out and holding it steady, a small smile crossing his face as he leaned in, watching the bee burry its head in the pollen. “Well, don’t mind me, then. Is it alright, if I stay here to read? I won’t bother you.” A moment passed, but he nodded solemnly, watching the bee flit away, before fixing his gaze on her, which she studiously ignored, studying her book while watching out of the corner of her eye.

Another echoing shout, almost like a thunder crash, and he let out a little shriek. Before she could ask if he was okay, the little shadow had scuttled closer, throwing himself onto her lap and curled in a shivering ball, hiding himself under her cloak.

“Oh, darling, it’s alright. They won’t hurt you here, I promise.” He hadn’t uncurled, and she’d hesitantly wrapped an arm around him, brushing through his hair with her other hand, humming softly, until she felt him slowly start to uncurl, realizing finally he’d fallen asleep, tiny hands clutching at her shirt, impossible to pry off even if she’d wanted to.

When Creativity and Deceit panicked later, realizing Anxiety had been missing all day, they were surprised to find him happily coloring on the floor of the witch’s cottage, dark aura dispersed enough they could actually see his body, a dragon curled around him protectively.

The next day he’d shown back up on her doorstep, a bit shyer, but no less brave, holding out a flower crown, painstakingly woven with colorful flowers, and it may have been the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. From then on, Anxiety, or Virgil, now, was as good as hers, under her protection, always welcome, always at home in her home. Her baby, her shadow, her tiny terror.

55 notes · View notes

yukiobeyme · 4 years

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Hi! I saw your hc of the brothers reacting to a mc playing the harp. Do you think you could do hc with an skilled painter mc too? I study art, but due to a depressive episode i stoped painting, i started painting again a few days ago and remembered how much i enjoy it. Maybe due to the studys of the devildom she didnt have time for a while? Its ok if you dont want to or feel uncomfortable:)

Sorry, it took forever but hopefully, this suffices. It’s the longest thing I have ever written for Obey Me (5.6k words) The picture that is included is drawn by me, which is a painting that is featured in Detroit Become Human. It was in chapter 6 for Marcus, and the painting is human- hope. So, yea I hope you all enjoy and it’s just as good as the harp fic I did.

This is also like how the brothers try to help you with depression too because I need it lol. The first half is them noticing that you aren’t doing art anymore then you randomly paint then its the brother’s reaction though I don’t know if their reaction is long enough.

I am behind on requests but feel free to send stuff, I’m doing online classes so I have more free time and on my computer constantly. I think I’m finally gonna catch up on everything.

Trigger Warning for Depression and not necessarily Eating Disorder Otherwise Nonspecific but MC struggles to eat while depressed.

Art was something you always did. It was started as an innocent hobby, then you started to doodle on your assignments and notes. If there were paper and pencil around, there was bound to be one of your drawings on it eventually. In high school, you decided to take Art as your elective of choice, and during that time you learn what your favorite medium was and what your art style is. You found out you like paints the most; acrylics were the easiest for you, it was the most forgiving of the paints, watercolor you loved but it took work and concentration to do, and oil paint you practiced loved to hate. Oil was always so hard to work with, at first you always overworked the paint and left it looking dull and sad looking, but you were determined to get it right. Your final project was a huge oil painting, you took your time to plan and layout that painting. The topic you chose was the fall of angels, which you didn’t know much about. You knew about the Celestial Realm and Devildom, everyone does but it’s not like humans can walk freely in either of the realms. You debated back and forth if you should do a generic angel or if you should have more fun with it and recapture the fall of a true angel. Your research led you to learn about six brothers that fell around the same time. You recognized the first name easily, Lucifer; he was prideful and what everyone refers to the most powerful demon. He fell from Heaven after he became so impressed with his own beauty, intelligence, power, and position that he began to desire for himself the honor and glory that belonged to God alone. This pride represents the actual beginning of sin in the universe—preceding the fall of the human Adam by an indeterminate time. The other names, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor didn’t seem to ring any bells, but you took the time to try and research each on. You decided to capture all their falls in one painting, they fell in the order of power. Lucifer would be the furthest one down the canvas and that’s why Belphegor would be at the top still within the clouds. The painting ended up looking amazing and still hangs on the wall in your living room, it was the first decoration piece you ever put up.

Fast forward to when you were whisked away to Devildom to be an exchange student. They were nice enough to give you time to pack things, only 15 minutes to pack a year's worth of things. You grabbed random clothes and stuffed them in a bag, you grabbed your favorite stuff animal and went immediately went to your desk where you kept all your painting supplies. You made sure to grab as many different colors as possible, all different brush sizes and your two sketches that could handle the paint medium. You decided to grab your phone and its charger though you knew it probably wouldn’t work in Devildom. With one last glance around your house, you paused and looked at the oil painting before telling the demon that you were ready to start this adventure.

Much to your surprise, you were met with faces that were familiar. Though it wasn’t because you had met them before rather it was because you studied their faces and bodies to paint them. You were flushed the whole time they introduced themselves and was even more flustered when you realized you would be living with them for the next year. If they noticed, they didn’t say much about it. You knew they noticed your stares though. You were studying their faces, trying to recall if you captured them right, if your references were accurate or not.

You tried to do some form of art every day, from doodles or painting. Usually, you would sketch something during your breaks and paint them once you were back at the House of Lamentation. The brothers knew you painted but you always requested to be left alone. This was the time you played the music you wanted and get lost in the brush strokes. It was your stress release, something you found joy in, the way you reconnected with your body.

But within a month of being an exchange student, your RAD work piled up and instead of sketching during breaks you had to start studying and doing work to ensure you stayed on top of everything. The mix of stress and not taking care of yourself led you down a spiraling depression. You gave up painting and daily self-care was sparse and very little. You stayed up late and woke up early to get as much work done as possible, food was on the small side and on the go food.

You had gone shopping with Asmodeus and grabbed canvases, the now gathered dust in the corner of your room. Somewhere still blank and others left unfinished, but you could never push yourself to pick up your paintbrushes. Sometimes you would pull out all your material and just sit and stare at the canvas until you gave up and left it alone. Soon the brothers decided to make a schedule so that you never alone and offer you different types of support that were unique to them. They never pushed you to pick up painting again, though they tried to encourage it and encourage you to take care of yourself.

Lucifer:

Lucifer noticed how your habits changed, while he never saw your finished art pieces, he saw bits and pieces. He noticed that you like to draw what was around you, he had seen you draw the RAD, the House of Lamentation, and even sketches of his brothers and himself. When you stopped drawing in the morning, he just figured you weren’t as inspired, but then the dark circles under your eyes formed, skipping meals or eating too little, and how you sometimes drifted in class.

He thought it should be his job to help you, but he didn’t know how. For the first time in centuries, he felt powerless. He decided whenever you skipped meals, he would find ways to get you to eat. In the morning if you skipped breakfast, he grabbed a fruit and a granola bar to hand to you. Or when you skipped dinner, he brought the food to wherever you were studying. He made the time to sit with you, while you ate, bringing work of his own to do. He would try to brush off as he simply wanted to work in a different area when in reality, he wanted to make sure you ate.

Finally, Lucifer would ask if you had drawn or painted recently. Your grimace told him everything, “No, I haven’t been inspired recently,” you shrugged it off hoping he would drop it. But instead, he poked and tried to get more information from you. You broke after a while spilling all the struggles you have been facing and how the stress-induced depression, you assured him you been through it before and you would be fine but right now it just felt like loneliness and darkness.

While Lucifer didn’t show it, it broke his heart to hear you say that. He figured you were stressed, and you seemed down, but he didn’t know it was too this magnitude. He did his best to support and encourage you in any way he could, hoping that it would help somehow. He offered to tutor you and help you with homework in hopes to lighten your load. He knew he should tell Diavolo, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. This felt too intimate to disclose to him, he felt happy and privileged that you shared it with him, and he didn’t want to break that. At least you were talking to someone.

Mammon:

Mammon was oblivious to how your schedule and habits changed. It wasn’t until Beelz mentioned that he hadn’t seen you eat yet today during lunch. Then it clicked how he hadn’t seen you as much or rather how he had to seek you out constantly to get the attention he deserved from you.

He started to pay more attention to you and something seemed missing from your stack of books but could never place it until he came to your room and say your sketchbook on the floor under all your books. It clicks he doesn’t remember the last time he saw you drawing or doodling.

He then noticed your tired eyes, your slow-moving, and you did skip a lot of meals or at very little. He totally increased how much he spent with you, even when you claimed to have too much work to do. He would simply sit at your feet and lean against you. You would occasionally drop your hand down and play with his hair. You noticed the increase of affection and time he spent with you and at first, you were annoyed with it but soon you enjoyed the quiet company. Once Mammon saw you were happy to have him around, he started talking to you about his random schemes; which never failed to make you smile and laugh. He soon made it his goal to make sure you were always laughing and smiling, he never wanted it to stop.

You didn’t disclose everything to Mammon, but you talked about your feelings to him. In some ways it was hard not too, having him so close but you couldn’t help but feel vulnerable. He comforted you to the best of his ability, sometimes he said the wrong things, but he tried and attempted to fix it.

He would surprise you with small gifts, one day at lunch he managed to get a yakisoba bread and you were surprised when he offered you the whole thing instead of just wanting to split it. You offered to split it with him and you wouldn’t take no for an answer. You both ate you halves outside, and you couldn’t help but cuddle up against him. When you finished your food, you gave Mammon a peak of the cheek. He flushed immediately and you hooked your arms together and walked to class with him. Needless to say, he bragged about it to the brother’s group chat and he was made fun of because of how he blushed for the rest of the day.

Leviathan:

Noticed the symptoms immediately, he had been through similar things. That there were times he stopped video games and anime or stopped finding the enjoyment from it. Though because he was constantly in his room, no one would notice.

He simply offered you silent support, making sure you were never alone or in one place for too long. He would try to drag you away for a quick game or anime or watch him play a game. You finally asked why he was spending more time with you and he would bashfully say while he didn’t know how you felt, he felt like he had been through similar things. It broke your heart to hear that and you pulled him into a tight hug. Later that night, you went to his room bringing tea for both of you and you both stayed up way too late talking to each other. It seemed like talking about it help life some of the pressure off you.

He said his door was always open to you, and while you didn’t always take him up on it, you occasionally when to study and watch him play whatever game he was currently playing. It was nice to have his company, even if you didn’t talk, it was comforting to be in the company that understood your feelings.

During class, he sat to your left while Beelz sat to your right. Levi made sure to nudge you if your attention seemed to diverge from the lecture and always offer you his notes if you missed anything. He also showed you places to hide in RAD, if you wanted to hide during lunch but his only request was you took food and ate it. He said he would prefer to hang out as well but respected your privacy if you truly wanted to be alone.

Would try and encourage you to paint or draw again. Asking you to draw him some character from his games or anime. You occasionally you would indulge in drawing whatever he wanted. Overall, Levi was your quiet support and you were grateful for it, to be able to sit in quiet and not to be asked what is wrong or must talk was a perfect escape sometimes.

Satan:

He was worried about you, he offered to take you to the library for a new place to study. He would read your textbooks to you. He would read it whether you were in his room, the library, or curled up on his bed. Though most times if he read to you on his bed, you would drift off to sleep listening to his voice. He would always smile whenever you managed to fall asleep, it comforted him that he was able to help you fall asleep.

Satan would find books about depression, but he was uncertain because it sounded to clinically and he doubted that it was really like how the book described. Though he continued to research, trying to find out ways to support you. Online forums and talking to the brothers about the things they were doing and what seemed to help you.

He would stumble sometimes but you couldn’t help but feel touched he tried so hard. When you say the help guide and books he had, you cried. You couldn’t believe someone would care this much about you and want to help you. He was there to comfort you and once you calmed down you thanked him and laugh, “I was wondering why your actions seemed straight from a self-help book, Thank you,” you kissed him on the cheek and gave up studying for the day to hang out and cuddle with him. He would ask what he could do to help, what things he did that helped or hurt you. You would drift off to sleep with a smile on your face.

When you weren’t reading together and Satan would play drama, especially Korean Dramas, something you introduced to him. He would play your favorite one, the one you have already watched together and that you have seen a million times, but still loved it and reacted to the story every time. Sometimes Satan would quote the show and act dramatically to make you smile and laugh.

But there were hard times with Satan, he was the Avatar of Wrath, after all, he would get annoyed at the situation, but never at you. He always made sure that you knew that, though occasionally he would say something that he would immediately apologize for it. He tells you; he feels worthless and helpless. He wanted to help you and make it all better, but he knew that isn’t how it works.

Asmodeus:

Much like Mammon, offered you comfort and affection. Whisking you away to get the newest coffee or tea at the café, shopping, bubble baths, and doing skincare with him. While you tried to protest, he was consistent, and most times was a success. He starts to offer to go the café to study for a change of scenery, offering to quiz you while you took the bubble bath, or doing face masks that you could put on and study for a bit while it dried.

“Stress isn’t good for your skin. Neither is not sleeping,” Asmodeus would tell you pointedly.

Never directly asked what was wrong, but constantly reminded you he was there for you if you ever needed him or wanted to talk. While you didn’t to it often, instead of talking to him you would seek him out to cuddle and of course, he never denied it. It was a guaranteed break for you and most times you fell asleep.

Whenever he took you shopping, he would drag you to the art store encouraging to buy art supplies, he ended up buying you new paintbrushes, paint, and canvas. Telling you there wasn’t any rush to paint anything, but it would just be there in case you hit inspiration. He would always joke that you could paint him or “paint him like a French girl,” and would flash you a cheeky grin. You would laugh and shove his shoulder.

Sat behind you in most of your class and whenever he had the change, he would give you affection. He would pass you notes constantly, sometimes it was drawings of his own. Sometimes they were beautiful and amazing other times he drew funny sketches. You quickly found out who drew Lucifer riding the unicorn and Diavolo in the dress. The funny sketches also included exaggerated drawings of the teachers or his brothers, which was so hard not to laugh in class so you could only turn around and glare at him, that didn’t last long before you broke out into a smile and shook your head at him.

Beelzebub:

Noticed you lack interest of food and lack of eating immediately. Was constantly bring you snacks and sharing them with you. He sometimes was sneaky with it, dropping it off fruit slices and sitting it beside you and leaving. Then coming back later to see the empty plate and he was beaming. Would study with you and sat near you in class, whenever he pulled out a snack, he would set it in between you, in hopes you would snack on his food.

Whenever it was his turn to cook, he would find out your favorite comfort food; whether it was something from Devildom or Human food. Trying to make sure the food was as appetizing as possible and mouth-watering in hopes to entice you.

Would always be proud whenever you ate and encouraged yourself to be a glutton sometimes. Beelzebub was also your teddy bear, always down to engulf you in a hug and study with you occasionally. He would also tell you stories and memories about Lilith, times in the Celestial Realm, or random memories that were simply used as a distraction or calm you down when you got too tense about your schoolwork.

Beelzebub would also be the one that read you bedtime stories when you couldn’t sleep, it always made you laugh. He would do the voices and everything, as you cuddle against him. It became a normal thing to wake up to see Beelzebub leaning against you bed, he would admit he was checking on you during the middle of the night and decided to stay just in case you needed him.

He always checked up on you and while he was the Avatar of Gluttony, he indulged you in other things than food. He gave you a lot of praise and even small trinkets he found while he was out shopping.

He was just always there for you and he had his alerts on specifically for you. He would always reply with lightning speed. He was also the one that came up with the idea to not let you be alone too long and create the shifts between the brothers. While it was annoying in some ways you couldn’t help but feel touched by their efforts

Belphegor:

Consistently offered and told you take a break and naps. He would drag you to the planetarium to study and while he offered to study with you, he would end up dozing off at some point. It always made you smile. You would go snag his blanket and tuck him in.

He would constantly wrap you up in blankets and cling to you like a koala, trying to make sure you were as comfortable as possible as you study. He even would offer you to use his pillow that he carried around. While you were hesitant, but you adored how Belphegor smelled and often found comfort in that. He would be able to help you learn about the stars and constellations. He could talk forever about it and often did. He knew all the stories behind them, what they looked like and could point them out.

Sometimes you would count the stars with him to fall asleep. Belphegor was known to tuck you in, he would kiss you on your forehead and whenever he found you asleep, he would join you. It was the simple things that made you feel a little better and loved. Never forced you to talk about anything, but whenever he noticed you were staring off into space, he would begin to ramble about everything and anything. Trying to ground you and bring you back to the present.

He knew where to find you whenever you couldn’t sleep, and you weren’t in your room and he told the other brothers but always told them he would go and comfort and hang out with you. You were in the planetarium, it where he went when he couldn’t sleep or felt restless. He would sit beside you and sit in silence, he usually had a blanket to drape over the both of you. You would lean again him and rest his head on your shoulder, bringing in his smell and feel some of your tensions melt away.

Finally, one random day, you had inspiration hit you. Asmodeus had bought you a canvas and it was huge, and you knew the painting had to be just right. You decided to paint it outside, thinking maybe getting some vitamin D would help as well. You gathered your art stuff before you headed out. You ran into Satan as you made your way outside, you flashed him a shy smile and he offered to help you carry out your things. You were in the garden and you slowly set up; Satan helped you set up before disappearing. You grabbed your pencil and started to sketch out your painting. You heard someone approaching you and it was Satan though he was carrying a book before finding a place to sit near you in the shade. You gave him a soft smile before you went back to work. Before you knew it, you were loaded up your pallet with all different colors and started to paint. You allowed yourself to get lost in the painting. Letting your mind go blank and allowing your hand to take over the paint strokes. You didn’t notice the crowd that gathered behind you, you were completely lost in the joy of the painting. Your smile only continued to go the more and more you painted, you remembered how much you loved painting; the tension in your shoulders started to release and you felt renewed. Once you were finished you stepped back to see the painting in the full picture. You looked behind you to see all the brothers behind you, looking at your painting.

“It’s beautiful,” Satan said setting his book down and the other brothers nodded in agreement.

“Thank you… for everything,” you started and continued when you saw the brothers confused looks, “For supporting me and reminding me to take care of myself,” you flashed all of them a small smile.

“It’s inspired by all of you. That you reached out to me and reminded me of the hope that it gets better, even if it takes a while or doesn’t feel like it ever would.” All the brothers looked touched, but your words and it was Beelz that pulled you into a hug first. Soon you were getting hugs from all the brothers except Lucifer who gave a nod, you knew that later in private you would get a quick hug from him later.

Lucifer:

Lucifer had a sense of pride in seeing you paint again. Seeing you so engrossed in your work and how confidently your paint strokes were. He loved watching how the colors swirled together and how the painting slowly came to life. He realized he could watch you paint all day; he would later ask if you were willing to paint him something for his office. He would let you in his office and look around to get an idea of the mood of the room and how much space you had to work with. When you finished the painting, Lucifer hung it up almost immediately. He whenever he was stressed and tense, he would find himself looking at it, following the swirls of the colors to calm himself.

He also adored to indulge you in more expensive paints, which always took your breath away. He would allow you in his office to paint if you wanted. Most times Lucifer was working on papers, but occasionally he would play the piano, soft melodies that were soothing. It became a tradition that once a week, you would go to his office to paint or draw. Asking his opinions on sketches and if you should follow through with them or change it up.

Mammon:

He was taken back by how beautiful you looked as you painted. You were so carefree and happy; it took his breath away. He watched how your body moved as you painted, how smooth and elegant it looked. It was angelic, he was the only brother that dared to approach you; he would sit down on the grass and watch you.

He never formally requested any paintings from you, but you ended up painting him something anyway. You bought a copy of the magazine he was on the cover of and recreated it for him to hang up in his room. He was speechless when you gave it to him, you decided to do it more of an abstract with lots of colors. He hung it up on his wall and whenever he looked at it, he would smile and blush, it seemed so intimate that you painted him. That you probably spend a lot of time looking at his face to recreate it. He was greedy and craved watching you paint; for some reason, it was soothing for him and it made you happy so in turn, it made him happy.

Leviathan:

He watched in amazement, seeing you so shy and in a shy to being confident and standing tall. HE was in awe; his mouth fell open at some point. He felt like a child again, recalling how he has memories of having similar reactions when Lucifer did things. He followed you paint strokes, watching the painting come to life. When you turned around, he gave you the biggest smile, he was so happy to see you so passionate and happy with your work.

Even though the memory of being chased by Henry 1.0 was fresh in your mind, you decided to recapture him for Levi. So he could always have him hanging in his room. Levi was speechless when he saw it, he would whisper thank you to you. His smile made it so worth it.

Satan:

He found it super important to text his brothers that you were painting in the garden or about to start. The chat blew up with excitement. He grabbed a random book; he had no intention to read the book, but he didn’t want you to think he was staring at you. He sat underneath the trees near you and opened the book and started to pretend to read. He was amazing and honored that he could watch the full process of watching your painting coming to life. From the rough sketch, then the base paint, and then watching you add more and more color. When he saw his brothers come out, he raised one finger to his lips, to ensure they stayed quiet.

He didn’t ask you to paint him anything but asked if he could watch you occasionally. Which you mostly agreed to, though with more intimate projects you would tell him next time. You ended up painting himself something anyways. It was an old-world map, Fra Mauro map. It was made in Italy and even included the Garden of Eden. When he first saw it, he was speechless, he was excited though. This painting would go so well in his room, it matches the old-world library setting he had in his room. He was even more excited because he has a book about old-world maps that Fra Mauro is featured in it. The hug he pulled you into took your breath away, but you felt so happy because of his reaction.

Asmodeus:

Asmodeus was excited to see you painting again. He would be lying if he said it wasn’t attractive to watch you get lost in your art. While he was watching you paint, he couldn’t stop thinking about what other things you could paint and wondered if you would be okay with painting him like a French girl. Soon he disregarded the thoughts and simply appreciate the art in front of him, though he decided that you were really the masterpiece here.

Instead of painting Asmodeus a picture on canvas, you asked him to take off his shirt and lay down on his bed. You had brought your paints and paint brushed, while he was confused, he complied.

“This is going to be cold, sorry,” you gave him a heads up before you painted the stroke on his back. Asmodeus love it, you were turning him into a piece of your art. It felt intimate and precious. Though it was cold, and he complained and shivered, he was excited to see the final product.

Once you were done, you took a picture of your painting on his and yours D.D.D. You told him you combined two of your favorite paintings by Vincent Van Gogh, Starry Night but instead of the yellow stars, it was Van Gogh’s sunflowers.

Beelzebub:

He was the most excited out of the brothers, he was so happy to see you painting again. Seeing it come to life right in front of him, gave him a new appreciation for art. He could have watched you paint forever, you looked so carefree and relaxed. He didn’t know how much he missed your smile. After you were done and the painting was dried, he would ask if he could trace the colors. He would pull you into a huge hug and spin you around, making you cling onto him and laughing.

Beelz would ask instead of painting him something if you could have a paint night with him. You decided to pull up a Bob Ross video and follow it together. The results were dramatic, yours look close to Ross’ but had your unique style, while Beelz tried his hardest and it did resemble the reference paint. You started to giggle at his painting and before you knew it, Beelz took his extra paint and flung it at you. You let out a shriek before joining in, in the end, you both ended up covered in paint and laughing at each other.

Belphegor:

Belphegor was napping when his D.D.D started going off like crazy, he was annoyed until he saw that it was about you were about to paint. It gave him a jolt of energy to rush out to the garden. He was the last brother to get there. Standing behind you, he watched how your brush danced across the page and how your body swayed. You seem in your element and lost in your work. It was so relaxing to watch you paint, how the colors swirled together and just seeing how relaxed and happy you were seemed to rub off on him.

You knew you didn’t have to paint Belphie anything, but you couldn’t help yourself. You knew exactly what you wanted to draw anyways. You set up in the Planetarium and went to work to capture the sky above you. Belphie ended up joining you, he grabbed his blanket and sat behind you before curling up and watching you paint. It wasn’t long before you heard his soft snores behind him. You chuckled at him before going back to work. When you were finished you saw he was still asleep, you couldn’t help yourself. You crept near him with a paintbrush in hand and touched his cheek with it. He woke up immediately due to the cold paint, you soon were fighting over the paintbrush. You didn’t stand a chance against him, once he had the paintbrush in hand, he gave your cheek the same treatment. You both began to laugh and once you had calmed down, you showed him the painting you did for him. He pulled you into a hug, rubbing his painted cheek against yours to smear the paint even more.

When it was time for you to leave Devildom, you gave the brothers the painting. They tried to refuse but you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Please, it’s a way for you to remember me. You inspired me to do and it’s a reminder to have hope that I’ll be back soon,” you told them a little teary-eyed. You knew you were going to miss all of them so much, but you had a renew sense and passion for painting and the brothers and Devildom has inspired a lot more pieces as soon as you got back to Earth.

#obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #leviathan obey me #satan obey me #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus obey me #beelzebub obey me #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #belphegor obey me #Yuki Writes!#yuki writes

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