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ahwait-no-yes · 3 years

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so basically my friend told me today about her dream she had that involved a demon and of course my mind went “...SAIOU AU”

here’s our convo so it makes sense:

if I had the motivation i would DEFINITELY write a fic about this- the fluff/crack/angst potential is t h e r e

and as a bonus doodle,

story is under the cut (it’s long)

“I was gonna keep this in tags but hsdf;j” is what I originally wrote here until I started thinking about this more and sorta wrote the whole plot-

-> as ouma’s killing the other monster things he flirts with shuuichi while the poor demon has never been flirted with so he’s stood there all confused and ??? (his version of blushing would be like, the fire coming from his small horns gets bigger and brighter)

-> the one he summons ends up being like. kaede and they both just end up having to lecture shuuichi on why it is that he should not want to die so easily

-> eventually kokichi and kaede wanna give him a hug so they try to but shuuichi’s Extra Hot™ (from being a demon and also probably blushing) so they both immediately regret that choice but kokichi laughs and gives an obligatory pun about shuuichi being hot which only confuses him because ‘of course im hot?? im a demon??’ while kaede explains what ouma meant

-> imagine shuuichi crying (fire tears..) at the generosity of these two strangers who a) aren’t absolutely terrified of him, b) refuse to hurt him and c) actually *want* to help him and ouma actually inwardly understanding a little bc he’d never imagine someone actually wanting to be with himself either

-> saihara now wanting to know what it’s like to live as a human with ouma and akamatsu but being unable to find a way (except for maybe being undercover?) but promising he’ll bring ouma back to him (he’s aware of the whole aging phenomenon in the lil demon world so he wants to keep their time short) and ouma finding that now he has something to look forward to

-> the 👏 mutual 👏 pining 👏 that commences after they both have to leave each other (if kaede knows kokichi in the real world she’d definitely tease him a little knowing he has a crush- this is probably good potential for building oumaede friendship)

-> it takes a while before ouma and saihara can see eachother again because getting the two to escape without killing saihara exerted a lot of energy on him, but they do get to! about once a month to be safe, and they get to know stuff about eachother like which shops ouma likes to steal from and shuuichi’s really loud demon friend he once had (aka momota)

-> one day though saihara tells ouma that if he keeps doing this he’ll die of exhaustion (it takes a lot of energy from saihara to get ouma in and out of there) and ouma calling him an idiot but really being worried. saihara tells him not to worry about him even if something happens to him, and makes ouma go back to the real world

-> ouma doesn’t hear from him after that

-> he worries he might have been killed or saihara forgot about him and feels stupid for being so hopeful in something so childishly impossible and starts trying to forget about him

-> the real world is aware of demons cause people talk about them (and obvs you can tell when someone’s gone to their.. dimension thing because you can visibly see them age) so still denying that he’s curious and likes saihara still, ouma tries to go to libraries and do his own research on demons and ends up finding out that saihara specifically comes from a bloodline that makes him quite powerful if not for that he wouldnt want to take the risks that come with it and then lowkey gets excited again for saihara while still in ✨denial ✨

-> it’s been almost a year when saihara has enough energy (and more) to ensure that his new plan is successfully carried out and that ouma (and potentially 1 more..) gets back to the real world safely. he created this plan when he figured out how to exist in the real world- by sacrificing the thing he cares most about

-> so when ouma suddenly gets that off-feeling people get when they’re leaving the real world he feels very many emotions at once (giddily going ”ohh my god its not this it cant be this no way oh heck tthisis not happening not a chance”) until he sees the face he’s been waiting 4 months for again except this time it looks.. frighteningly cold

-> ouma’s instincts are screaming at him that something is very, very wrong here especially when he can’t hear any warmth when saihara says “Welcome back, Ouma. It’s your final time” and explains the whole ‘kill these monsters then kill me’ thing again

-> ouma’s confusion inevitably turns to annoyance as he kills the dudes (there appears to be a lot more than there was last time) and fires questions at saihara (‘is this saihara?’ ‘what happened to you??’ ‘do you even remember me?’) while saihara stays silent for the whole time thinking about how he really doesn’t want to be doing this.

-> eventually ouma decides he was wrong (again) to have put his faith in a guy- a demon- he only met once a month.. even if said demon gave him something to look forward to

-> when he finally gets to saihara alone he internally notes that saihara cant look him in the eye, but he finally speaks to tell ouma that now either himself or ouma will now die (saihara knows this is for sake of the sacrifice, but he can’t let ouma know else it won’t work)

-> ouma refuses to fight him again, expecting saihara to snap back into the meek demon from a year and some months ago, but rather than that happening saihara actually says something like “if you won’t kill me, I’ll have to kill you” and swings at him

-> even if ouma was on his full guard, he still would’ve been surprised by how strong saihara actually could be when he tried to fight- and of course saihara can’t stop now that he’s started but ouma hears the hesitation when saihara asks “are you going to kill me yet?” and gets annoyed that the whole time he spent with him and even akamatsu meant nothing. saihara smiles sadly knowing he’s achieving his goal but ouma thinks he’s smiling at the thought of dying and gets somehow even more annoyed

-> during their whole fight, insert “I’m alone, Ouma, and I will always be” line from saihara, “No amount of talking can convince me otherwise, Ouma. I’m sorry it took so long, but it was foolish of you to trust a demon you met only once” or something and yes it hurts saihara too but ouma’s staying silent and before saihara can continue, ouma fires back with “You’re right- you are meant to be alone. You were always meant to be that kind of guy” and stops dodging to start finally attacking- this is when saihara knows he’s pretty much achieved his target: sacrificing ouma’s trust in him

-> just as ouma swipes at him, saihara’s lil spell thing is activated that takes saihara back to the real world, disguised so people don’t see him as a demon. but now ouma thinks he’s just killed saihara (I just attacked him. and he is gone. i dont know what that light was but i must have just killed him. oh my god im a murderer.”)

-> saihara hiding in the forest to do the lil spell thing again but on ouma (all the time he spent saving on energy was worth it) so ouma gets transported to the real world too and immediately runs to tell akamatsu everything that happened

-> saihara trying to find to blend in with humans from what he remembers of how they act but he doesnt need to particularly eat he just needs a heck ton of sleep so he basically just lives in the forest now. he’s very sensitive to water so he actively stays away from it too (it wont kill him but it does make him sick). he’s still feverishly warm but not scalding and he also decides to work at a store to fit in more

-> ouma regretting what he did to saihara even though saihara hurt him first and realising he misses him

-> saihara ends up accidentally bumping into him at the store he works at that ouma conveniently steals from a lot (”Ouma, you’d make a good demon” “Nishishi! What do you mean? I’m a perfect little angel!”) and saihara gasping when he notices ouma’s unforgettable purple hair and cute smile.

-> ouma finding something familiar about this awkward new staff with the cute face and deciding he’ll visit the shop more often to see this stranger and not because said stranger might help him get over his demon crush

-> then they get to know eachother again for the 2nd time, and as much as this guy is really cute, he clearly knows more than he’s letting on... so of course ouma’s gotta now pay even more attention to him. just so he knows what the guy’s hiding. not cause he wants to know him.

-> one day saihara is sick from trying to protect himself from the rain (cause yk, water bad) so he stays in the forest instead of coming in to focus his energy on getting better and also not blowing his cover. ouma notices he isnt there on that day and asks other staff members where he lives and they’re all like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-> it rains quite a bit after that, inevitably making saihara even more sick and in turn needing time away to himself, so ouma starts getting worried when saihara stops coming to work

-> saihara really wants to see him though, so one day he tries to drag himself to work in a terrible state where he’s actually almost cold for once and collapses after trying to run to ouma. ouma sees him and tells his manager he cant work nd takes him home himself where saihara wakes up confused

-> ouma lecturing saihara because he worried him and the way he fell reminded him of.. someone (demon shuu).. then he asks vague questions to saihara about if he’s ever met a demon and half-confesses to having met one himself multiple times and ending up falling in love and then probably killing them

-> saihara, in his tired state, tells him his story of how he was raised to believe he had no purpose other than to meet someone who would kill him, eventually finding that person but instead of looking at him with fear or anger he looked at him with admiration and playfulness, how the guy meant to kill him refused to and flirted w him instead. ouma has probably clicked on by this point but saihara continues to tell him he wanted to protect that guy with the power he had so he took time away from his first ‘job’ to find out how to be with him. saihara is probably shaking at this point while he continues telling him about how he found out he had to sacrifice the most important thing to him, so he “went and had a terrible argument with him one day and i ran away. but i’ve never stopped looking for him since, he showed me that even a demon like me can fall in love” (there’s the ✨grand confession ✨)

-> ouma saw it coming from the moment saihara started speaking, but that didnt stop him from being utterly paralysed. of COURSE saihara has to say “When I said you’d make a good demon I really wasn’t lying. Your hand is so warm it could fool even me” which possibly makes ouma completely combust before absolutely bolting out the door and calling akamatsu to tell her to get to his house (”AKAMATSU-CHAN I’M GONNA DIE RIGHT NOW IF YOU DON’T GET HERE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT THIS SECOND”)

-> while waiting for kaede, shuuichi explains that he needs to be Warm™ and immediately holds kokichi’s hold again, while the other’s having a gay panic.. and he doesnt know how to feel because on one hand, his beloved demon is.. right here, in the ‘flesh’, holding his hand, telling him he fell in love with him.. but on the other hand, that doesnt excuse the confusion and hurt he put him through back then, not being able to see him for a whole damn year..

-> ouma ignores all the feelings when akamatsu arrives where she’s brought water and blankets (just in case- i feel like shes the kind of friend who would do that) so saihara takes the blankets and ouma takes the water and she calms them both down and gets them to explain everything slowly and in their own time. its awkward esp for ouma who isnt particularly close with her, but they manage it in the end

-> they decide shuuichi literally cant live in the forest so of course now he has to live with ouma but akamatsu offers to help if it ever gets too much for ouma which obviously ouma denies. she leaves soon and its just them but ouma needs some time to himself to clear his head and he only returns late to see saihara asleep clinging onto akamatsu’s blanket with his life lmao so ouma sighs and brings him more. and if he kisses the sleeping demon’s forehead, nobody has to know

-> ofc its still very much awkward and it takes ouma getting used to having even just another presence in his home, let alone his sort-of-unofficial-demon-bf and saihara’s still sleeping a lot of the time but recovering

-> they probably establish their feelings for eachother properly when they’re more mentally prepared for it, and then 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 (they kiss) and are now actually legally boyfriends. i absolutely cannot let this end in angst so they’re happy and love eachother now yay the end

nngl. i talked about this with that same friend and I lowkey want to start writing an actual fic for it now that ive written... literally the entire plot, but if i do that it probably wont be out for a while bc i take 10 years to write lmao-- plus i hardly ever finish what i start so uh yeah.. but hopefully! im not even good at writing fic this is just the plot but yello

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 3 years

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2. The Stars Are Only the Beginning

Everything was beautiful! She saw things that she hadn’t seen before, things that she believed to be long gone, like fruit trees and people with pets. On the bus ride to the Academy, she counted 57 people with pets! They had little animals in their bag, or bigger ones, on a leash. The air smelled cleaner and there were fountains lining the school grounds. She was reminded of an old book where a boy goes to magic school for the first time. This. Was. Like. Magic.

The world that Nana had known wasn’t dead. She was just not able to be a part of it anymore… And now, Shani would be! She would be able to live out her Nana’s dreams. That’s what she thought. The childlike wonder burning bright inside of her for the first time in real life.

One of the first things that happened upon leaving the bus was decontamination. The students went into a chamber that served as a huge shower, placing their bags on a conveyor belt to be scanned, searched, and disinfected. After the showers, they were given uniforms to put on and handed the rest of their uniforms. They were taken to treatment, where they were tested for diseases, lice, etc.

“You’ll have to get rid of your hair,” the lady told Shani.

“Oh no! Do I have lice?” She panicked. She had heard about lice before, but never had it, as far as she knew.

“It’s too much,” the woman said.

“I can handle it,” Shani promised her. She had never cut her hair before, ever. The woman informed her that she had to get on that right away because photos for IDs were next and her hair was against protocol. Shani tried to recall being informed of what protocol for hair was. She didn’t remember seeing that in any manual, but she had not yet accessed the Student Handbook, as it was an online handbook, and she wasn’t inside of the school yet to have access to online resources. She looked around. Other kids had either straight hair or tamed their curls into flat styles that only betrayed their texture in certain areas and with certain eyes.

She watched a boy with pretty well done locs cry silently as his head was shaven. There was no way! Most of Nanefua’s stories happened during the lengthy process of maintaining Shani’s hair, to the point where Shani tended to style her hair as she read a book, reminiscing of that feeling.

For the moment, she got her bags back and rushed as quickly as she could to put her hair into two french braids. It was puffy at the edges, but the lady shrugged her shoulders and simply reminded her that if she looked like she wasn’t at her best, they would respect her less every time they looked at her files. Panicked she looked at the clippers, considering it - though years later she would never admit so. One of the other girls tapped her on the shoulder and handed her something. Shani read the container: edge control. The girl mouthed to her, with only a muffled sound coming out of her lips, “This will help in a pinch, but you really should get someone to put it into a protective style for the semester.”

Shani spent the next few minutes smoothing her edges and touching them up with the toothbrush she packed for her hair, then gave it back to the girl, signing “Thank you,” to her.

The girl seemed surprised, but signed back “You’re welcome.”

They parted ways as Shani headed for the ID section. Her photo was taken and uploaded. Her stats were programmed into a brass plated electronic cuff, which was then placed around her arm and secured. She looked down at it and several lights were flickering, a few whirring sounds were made and finally it tightened around her arm and announced, “System activated.”

The woman explained to her the meanings of the lights and sounds, “Whenever everything is paid up, all of the lights are gold. Whenever you need to pay, the segment that needs payment will light up green until it's paid. If you get behind a payment, it will light up red, and your academic experience may be interrupted.” She wore a stern face as she said, “And failure to pay, even upon removal from the program could result in sentencing.” The woman’s smile returned and she tacked on, “Between you and me, sometimes, you can pay through extra credit work and extracurricular interests that lead to revenue.” She winked. Shani nodded. “Perfect attendance also helps, and is one of the biggest determining factors in being in the Gold League.”

“What’s the Gold League?” Shani asked, already determined that whatever it was, she was going to do it. But, the woman had other students to prep and she was sure that it was in the Handbook.

Meanwhile, the deaf girl wasn’t getting an arm cuff. Instead she held her wrist forward and they scanned a chip inside of her forearm. “Welcome back, Miss Charming. How was your trip?” The person asked, but Miss Charming wasn't looking at her and didn’t immediately answer. However, a holographic interpreter appeared from her bracelet and signed the words.

“Wonderful, thank you,” the girl finally answered.

Shani noticed, only then, that though the girl had on the same royal blue color as the rest of the students, she wasn’t wearing one of the uniforms that they had been given. As they headed for orientation, Shani wondered where she got her outfit and if it was within regulations for the uniforms. It was a blazer and a pleated skirt, with a necktie and a red ribbon on her left lapel. On the right were a slew of pins, and ribbons, and she wore a gold badge on her coat.

She awkwardly smiled and signed to Shani, “I’m in the elite program.”

“I didn’t know that they let people into the elite program with…” Shani froze, unsure of what the correct word to use here was and feared she had already said too much to backtrack.

The girl looked upset, but she managed a smile as she passionately let her know, “I can do anything that I set my mind to do! Nice to meet you.” She hurried off to two other girls who were in a similar attire as hers - the royal blue of the Academy, but not the exact uniform that Shani and the others had on. She announced, in that muffled tone, “I am approaching!” And one of the girls (a brunette with short hair) gasped and turned to hug her. The other (a blond with long hair in a braid like Rapunzel) was smiling. She had already noticed her come up. They were signing and the one that Shani had spoken to, the Black one… She couldn’t tell if all three were deaf or not, was talking for both her and the other girl. Shani watched them longer than she intended - until they were out of sight, then she realized that she had to rush to orientation!

Shani watched as the board addressed the students. Well, the board was seated on a panel and a spokeswoman addressed the students. She noticed one of the board members in particular, who was as dark skinned as she was, with hair as coiled, though her hair was tied up in an intricate style, much like Nana might have done, and adorned with gold embellishments.

The board was dressed in two golds. Genuine, authentic gold that Shani had only ever heard of in books, and then the gold that she knew of, but hadn’t really seen much of, now that she thought about it. But, there, she saw full outfits of it. A bright tone in super expensive seeming professional wear, accented by jewelry. The school board was the most regal thing she had ever seen in real life. She read that it was “the luxurious Spanish yellow hue (that the Academy bought rights to) which could only be purchased through the Academy, and only worn by members of the board and members of the Gold League.

“I have to get into that.” She read the requirements. All A’s. Perfect attendance. Good citizenship, as determined by the board. Superior presentation, as determined by the board… She… did not know how to make notes on her new device… yet. So, she broke open her paper notebook, and scribbled in red: Goals 1. Gold League. 2. Find paper version of handbook. 3. Research the history of this Spanish yellow hue. 4. Find out that deaf girl’s name and where she gets edge control…

After orientation, a member of faculty dismissed the kids to find their dormitories and let them know the bell schedule for the following day. “Is there a map?” Shani asked a boy seated next to her. He turned up his nose and kept going. She sighed and found staff. “Hi. Is there a map?”

“There’s GPS in your device,” she said, smiling and went on with her business, not hearing Shani say that she didn’t know how to use or find the GPS in her device.

Her chest felt… pained? Excited? Scared? Restricted. Her chest felt tight. Her breathing was difficult. She wanted to scream and insist that someone help her find the dorms. She wanted to. But, you can’t do things like that in real life. She tried not to cry, though she was very frustrated, and she reminded herself that you need to have a plan and a path before moving forward. She moved against the wall of the auditorium and sat on the floor. She scribbled: How to Use My Device at the top of the page and doodled a happy ladybug on a flower. She studied the device for hours before someone came up to her, after everything was cleared out and nobody else was supposed to be in here.

“Girl?” They said and used a scan gun to pull up the info from her arm cuff, “What are you doing?”

She looked up and realized that he was talking to her. He had on a gray uniform, so she knew that he wasn’t faculty. They wore a Midnight Blue attire. This was a gray uniform like people she knew from home. He probably lived in the Outskirts and worked in the city. She hoped that her being here wouldn’t get him into any trouble! Mama told her that Outskirters could get into trouble on a job for just about anything. “I’m sorry! I hope I don’t get you into trouble. I didn’t know how to find my dorms and there was nobody to help me, so I was just here, teaching myself how to help me…”

She looked embarrassed as she put the device away into her issued backpack. “I was taking notes of the instructions of how to use my device, and drawing a map on paper, in case I couldn’t get the device to work, even with my notes…”

The man was sympathetic. “Listen, Miss Moore…”

“That’s not my last name!” She panicked, “They must have put the wrong information into the system for me!!”

“No. They just… rebranded you. There’s… Nobody of stature with your last name, as it appears on your birth records, so they granted you a more acceptable name, for room to grow.”

“They… Took my last name away?”

“It’s in the school system. It just won’t appear on any of your achievements.”

“But…”

“As I was saying, we need to get you to your dorms! It’s your first day and we don’t want you to get in trouble for wandering the halls unauthorized. Pop out that map and lets see if it gets you where you need to go, Miss Moore.”

“I don’t like that name. Can you just call me by my first name?” She asked, looking at the map, “Or did they change that too?”

“Is it Shani?”

“That’s my middle name.”

“The middle name is listed as your first name, now.” She felt that tightness in her chest again. “Listen. When I was your age, I couldn’t DREAM of getting into school. You made it here and with hard work, you’ll probably make it to a seat at the table. When you get there, you can be whoever you say you are.”

“I am who I say I am, right now!”

“As long as you know it, nobody can take that away. Even if they’re calling you something else.”

Shani laughed to herself… That’s not REALLY how the conversation went. That’s how it would have went if she had been the adult. What really happened was he was very short with her.

“Look. Your name is Shani Moore and you need to get to the dorm, so hurry up, before both of us lose this!” She shuffled, trying to keep up with his long strides and consult her map and see through tears burning in her eyes and the smears they made on her recently drawn map. When she got to the dorms, it was spacious, but seemed cramped, because all of the space was being used. There were rows of loft beds with work spaces beneath them, and a wardrobe beneath the stairs. All of the other girls were comfortably in their issued pajamas and staring at her in disbelief.

“You missed showers,” one girl said and everybody started laughing. Why? That shit wasn’t even funny, even by her 10 year old standards. She sat at the desk and unloaded her device. She would learn this stupid thing if it took her the rest of the night! And since there was no physical book about it, it nearly did. That was her first day of school.

But, that wasn’t the version that she gave to incoming kids. She gave the story that felt good. She gave the story that inspired hope.

Luna Charming passed by her, SO PRETTY in her royal blue pantsuit with a half pony and a red bow. She signed to her friend, “Working for free AGAIN?”

Shani shrugged her shoulders and signed back, “SOMEBODY’S got to help these kids!”

Shani usually went to the auditorium for orientation, seeing if she saw lost looking kids to assist and guide to where they needed to go. Most of them, she never saw again, but she felt better than she did that first day and she hoped that they entered their academic careers feeling better than SHE had. She fell in step with Luna and the two signed to each other as they walked, then parted ways whenever they got to Shani’s dormitory. Luna’s quarters were in the “alter ability” wing.

Luna, being deaf, although she was in the elite program, did not share chambers with other students in the program. She shared chambers with other students who lived with various conditions, but were smart enough or rich enough to gain their way into this school. Luna was both.

She had been purchased as a dependent when she was a toddler through an agency that paid poor parents for their children and sold them to rich people. It wasn’t considered an adoption, because the process was far less formal and not at all scrutinizing. But, Luna had been purchased by a wealthy couple that was into adoption for their charity phase, but didn’t feel like the hassle of the process. She was 2. She ONLY knew the Charmings as her parents and wouldn’t have never known about the way she came to be theirs if mean rich people didn’t have kids her age. She found out when she was 5. In their guilt over her upset, the Charmings spoiled Luna, a little more than their other children (who they collected in the same manner). They were also “into” disability awareness those years. They bought Luna and two of her sisters, one who didn’t talk (Taraleigh) and the other blind (Lorilei), and to this very day, there is a baby photo of the three of them, from a set in which they were See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil…

The older Luna got, the more she hated that thing. It was massive, and hanging in the parlor of her parents’ mansion. Yet, despite being less than civil people in certain aspects of humanity, they were decent parents.

Of course, Luna knew that she thought this perhaps because she was the favorite of the three. They were only at the academy because she was, and they weren’t in the elite program, so even though Luna was, she bunked with them, instead. A waste. That was what Luna had told Shani the headmaster said of her intelligence whenever she thought that she wasn’t paying attention enough to read his lips. “A waste of intelligence when she’s like this.”

“I have other attributes,” Luna had said, surprising him. He even had her tested again to see if she could hear and was for whatever reason lying. When he was satisfied that her records were in order, he told her that her parents had given her leeway to put herself on record with a first name of her choice. (They had the money for it, you see, and the successful last name to boot.) “Luna,” the 6 year old said, “I’m going to be an astronaut.” She knew that face. You poor child. He must have been thinking. She ignored it and pressed forward, officially in the Academy records as Luna Charming.

“Of course you are!” He cheered. Even not being able to hear his patronizing, she knew it was there. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she could tell something was off. It was probably his insincere smile, or the thing that she had seen him mumble before. “All of the payments for your entry into the elite program on an astronaut’s trajectory is in the system and your personal interpreter will be arriving with all of your special needs materials.” She nodded. She didn’t necessarily need an interpreter, but she knew that the state of the art materials she would bring along would be very useful. Years later, Luna was above and beyond her… well… it would be ridiculous to call them peers.

Nobody was in her league. She had worked with the intent to be the first 14 year old deaf astronaut. She had gotten the credits to receive credentials. On. Record. She met her goal. But, she was informed that she would definitely have to finish several other certifications, and was recommended another trajectory… to TEACH others. A teacher? Sure… privatized schooling was lucrative and her field of study would be booming… but that wasn’t what she wanted and she felt that if she was only a little closer to their normal, they wouldn’t have even suggested it.

Both of her sisters were back in a special needs school by the time she was 14. They not only didn’t cut it at the Academy, but even being rich kids, they always felt like everyone was trying to make it harder on them there. Sure they were. Luna had peeped that by the time she was 8. Their parents were willing to pay whatever it took to make sure that their children were the best. Teachers could say that Lorilei needed a new device that was patent pending to access computer systems in a way that blind children never have before! And the Charmings were going to pay for it. They had paid for numerous surgeries to help Taraleigh to be able to speak, even experimental transplants, until the moment where she forgoed the desire and settled uponed a first edition customized speech box that allegedly would give her the voice she would have had, had she had one.

“You’re different, Beth. You’re gonna reach those stars” the voice had said to her when she hugged her sisters goodbye.

“The stars are only the beginning,” she told them. That became her mantra.

Now, she was opening her video mail to see Shani excited to finally get her Gold League badge. Luna sent her a congratulatory gift basket with some of her needs in it - edge control, plantation credits, and a few Spanish yellow accessories to start off the freshman year.

With her sisters gone, Luna didn’t even leave the old quarters. She didn’t feel like having to get used to new neighbors and stuff and at least she had some memories here. But, she had ALWAYS had sisters, and now she was on her own in a wholly different way than whenever she had to go to class. They weren’t there when she got back.

She looked at a notification blinking on her screen. A message from Mom. “Annabeth, are you going to need us to pay for the elite quarters? We have to know by the end of the day.”

“No Mommy,” she said and the message was sent. At least she still had Shani.

A/N: I kinda hate how I jumped around in this one and might wind up tweaking it later on. It didn’t seem to transition seamlessly for me. Anyways, as much as i have ideas, I’ll go ahead and put them out there. Thanks for reading!

#Story Concept 01: No Saviors in the Wild #No Saviors Story #BFCD Story Concepts by Nesha #stories #original content #Nesha Writes

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getcooler · 4 years

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noted with thanks

idol!Jeongin x reader (ft. idol classmate! Beomgyu)

word count: 2.5k

genre: classmates au; fluff

synopsis: being an idol was hard; he kept missing classes. thank god you were there.

It started off when your teacher reassigned the seating arrangement for the new term. Ms Kim had apparently decided that you would thrive better at the back of the class, seated far, far away from your usual group of friends. Honestly, it wasn’t as if you guys even talked a lot in class most of the time! (well, maybe you did, but one can only pay attention to Ms Kim’s class for so long you know?) After getting over the initial disgruntlement over your new seat (you weren’t even that tall, you could just see the board in front T-T), that was when you noticed the vacant seat on your right.

What a dream! No seat partner for the entire semester, you thought gleefully as you slowly started to spread your things across the two tables, making use of the extra table-space. That was, until Ms Kim’s high-pitched voice broke through your daydream.

“Yang Jeongin will be seated at the back with Y/N for this semester.”

Yang Jeongin? As in the Yang Jeongin who currently was absent because of his idol schedule Yang Jeongin? The maknae of the most awarded rookie group Stray Kids Yang Jeongin? The most popular kid in your grade Yang Jeongin? Despite being classmates for the past 2 years, you have never held a proper conversation with the rising star. You could already feel all the piercing daggers sent by the other girls in your class as you let out a small strangled noise, smacking the book you were holding on your face.

Senior year is going to be great.

✭ ✭ ✭

“Y/n, right? Are you my new seatmate?”

A voice broke through your reverie, causing you to look up from idly rearranging your stationary on the table. A tall blond boy, decked out in a uniform slightly too big for him, stared down at you with bright eyes.

Yang Jeongin.

You motioned him to take the seat next to you, displaying a polite smile for the boy. At least he seems nice, you thought as you observed him taking out his stationary.

Your eyes scanned him as you did a mental assessment of the boy in front of you. You knew he was an idol in a group called Stray (Straight?) Kids, and you listened a little to their music, but despite being in the same class as the maknae for almost two years, you were never really close to him.

Tall, with dimples and eye smiles, you guessed he was pretty cute.

You were still staring at him when he turned towards you. Flustered, you pretended to read the textbook laid in front of you; your ears burned red in embarrassment. At this, Jeongin let out a chuckle before bowing his head a little in your direction.

“I’ll be in your care! Let’s get along well this term!”

✭ ✭ ✭

It’s been 3 days since you last saw your deskmate. You had overheard from Jeongin’s fangirls a couple seats in front of you that he was absent due to his idol duties, gone off somewhere for a filming schedule. A variety show or music show recording, you couldn’t remember. After all, it wasn’t as if it was the first time one of your classmates were absent because they were idols; Beomgyu from 4th row was constantly missing classes due to his newly attained idol status. How did they manage to balance school and idol life? You’ll never know.

Classes had ended for the day as you glanced over to the empty desk next to you. A wave of pity crashed over you as you recalled how Jeongin was already struggling in Maths, and how the new topic taught today definitely was going to throw the poor boy into a whole new level of confusion.

It was when you eyed your messy notes while packing your bag that you had a light bulb moment: if you rewrote your notes neatly, not only will it help you in revision but the neat copy can help Jeongin understand the lesson better! The sudden thought of revising and helping your deskmate seemed extra appealing, since it was a win-win situation for the both of you. Besides, redoing a new set of today’s notes and lessons and leaving it under his table for him to find (whenever he comes back you guessed) wasn’t that hard to do anyways.

That night, as you rewrote your notes, you found yourself putting in more effort than usual. If he could understand the notes, you reasoned, that meant your content was right, right?

✭ ✭ ✭

Jeongin walked into the classroom the next morning just in time to see you slide something under his desk, before making your way over to your clique on the other side of the classroom. Head tilted in confusion, he pulled out the pile of Maths notes, all neatly written with small explanations stuck on post-its throughout. Confusion, then relief flooded his emotions as he realised that his deskmate had taken down notes for the lessons he had missed while on schedules. He was in the middle of skimming through them when Beomgyu took your seat next to him, gently snatching the notes from him to flip through them too.

“Woah, the class is up to here now? How come you have the notes but I don't?” Beomgyu continued flipping through in awe, trying to understand and absorb as much as possible before Jeongin took it back, mumbling a reply. “Huh, what did you say?”

Said blond boy let his eyes linger on your figure, with your head thrown back in laughter at something your friend said, before looking back at the little ‘fighting!’ doodle on one of the post-its. “Y/n did it for me, I think. Must've been because I told her I sucked at Maths.”

“Lucky~ Park Minhee didn’t share her notes with me until I got her a signed photocard of Yeonjun-hyung. Can you believe?? To sell my own brother for my grades???”

At that, Jeongin burst out into laughter, continuing the conversation with his friend.

✭ ✭ ✭

A carton of strawberry milk placed on your desk suddenly made you jump as you got ready to go for lunch. Jeongin stood before you with a sheepish smile and light blush across his cheeks. “Thanks for making notes for me; I don't think I would have understood the chapter without it!”

“N-no biggie! Reviewing and rewriting the notes helped me to revise anyways, so I just thought the extra notes I made would be more useful with you.”

A bigger grin flashed across his face. You felt your heart flip a little, finding the adorableness in your fox-like friend. It wasn't until he reached out to ruffle your hair before leaving to join his other friends for lunch did you turn as pink as the strawberry milk he had just gifted you.

Dazed as you stared after him, you didn't notice your friends until they were nudging you for attention.

✭ ✭ ✭

Throughout the rest of the school day, you found it relatively easier to talk to the blond. He would ask you questions regarding topics he missed in class, and in turn, you would ask for stories from being an idol.

Other than the fact that your tables were always crowded by your classmates rushing forward to capture the attention of the popular idol in between lessons, you were surprised by how much closer you got to know him. His go-to coffee order, his favourite subject, his preference to dip rather than pour, you were amazed at how many things you had in common with him. The two of you were constantly disturbing each other during lessons, be it flipping pens on the other’s table or engaging in a game of tic-tac-toe on your notes.

For the first time in your two years of knowing him, you felt like you finally could see him as a person rather than someone other classmates idolised.

✭ ✭ ✭

Most of Jeongin’s schedules for the rest of the month were all held after school so he had to rush off, but during classes, he still made it a point to ask you for help. You didn’t mind, of course, since you found that you understood the content better if you were teaching it to someone else. This particular arrangement was very mutually beneficial, as both of your grades were improving because of this.

Falling into routine became too easy; on days when Jeongin was absent, you would copy your notes for him and include explanations on post-it’s, and when he came back, you would spend your breaks going through topics with him to make sure he understood. Occasionally, Beomgyu would join your mini tutoring sessions too. Those days you felt the most piercing gazes aimed at you from outside your classroom, brought on by the boys’ jealous fangirls from other classrooms. After all, you never thought you would be tutoring two of the biggest rookie idols during lunch. Just the thought of watching Jeongin and Beomgyu diligently pouring over their textbooks every day in front of you made you giggle.

Of course, the response Jeongin gives you every time he understood a concept was rewarding on its own too. You don’t think you would ever get over how bright his eyes sparkled and how they crinkled into cute little crescents every time. Or how he always made it a point to thank you each time too. To say that your heart did flips every time he did would be an understatement.

As a deskmate, Jeongin wasn’t too bad either. He got along well with your close friends and was always happy to listen to your complaints about class. Some days, he even caught you staring (you were his deskmate, it was impossible to not admire his visuals), only to shoot you a wink before resuming his work.

✭ ✭ ✭

You didn’t see Jeongin for a whole week after that. He had told you prior that his group was going to Japan for some promotional stuff, so for the whole week you sat at your desk alone. You still tutored Beomgyu, and sometimes your own friends would join in your little revision sessions too.

“You like Jeongin, don’t you?”

Startled by the question, you looked up from your own textbook to send a bewildered look. ”If I didn’t like him, I don’t think I would be helping him study.”

Beomgyu scoffed, replying with a meaningful look. “That’s not what I meant, you idiot. You know what I mean.”

Ears burning red, you chose to smack him with a worksheet and stood up, mumbling an excuse to go to the toilet.

✭ ✭ ✭

Jeongin came back the following week, looking more energetic than he was before. That was until he saw the small pile of notes and homework stacked on his table, waiting to be flipped through and completed. Your bag was there, but you were probably off in another classroom catching up with your friends, so he took the opportunity to place a small goodie bag on your desk. He looked at it for a moment, before deciding to scribble a note on a post-it and attaching it to the gift. Finally satisfied, he went over to the table his own group of friends were crowding around to kill time before Ms Kim came in for attendance.

As you reentered the classroom, the first thing you saw was the gift on your desk. Looking closer, you noticed the little note attached to it.

“A little appreciation gift because you’re always helping me 😊”

Curious, you opened the box, only to reveal a small box of mochi and a little keychain of a cartoon Shiba dog. You let out a little squeal of excitement as you held up your presents to examine them closer, not noticing the tall boy returning back to his seat. He broke out into a huge grin as he saw you attach the keychain to your pencil case with glee.

“You like it? I remembered you saying you loved the mochi in Japan, but I wasn’t sure which flavours you liked,” Jeongin started. “Plus, you always replied to your messages with Doge memes, so I got you that as well!”

“Are you kidding me? I love this flavour! And look at the dog’s cute butt!” you continued to babble on excitedly, even showing off the keychain to your friends.

The look of pure bliss on your face as you stared at the presents? Enough for a certain deskmate to start crushing on you. Wait, Jeongin caught on his train of thoughts, crush?

✭ ✭ ✭

Class tests handed in. and the term coming to an end, it was finally time for report cards to be handed out. You were confident of your abilities, yes, but it still didn’t help to curb the worries that you might have accidentally flunked a subject. Jeongin, on the other hand, looked as calm as a cat lazing in the sun.

“Care to share your calmness?” You turned towards your deskmate, who was busy doodling in his notebook.

“Being an idol means having to re-prioritise what’s important to me. Besides, I had you tutoring me this term you know?”

“Huh… I wanna be like that too…”

Turns out, you were panicking over nothing. Your grades were still the same, maybe slightly better than the previous term, but they were nothing to panic about. You looked up in time to see Jeongin happily walking back, a bounce in each step back towards his seat. You shot him a confused look, before snapping your head back to the front at the sound of the teacher’s voice.

“Some of you did well this term, some of you snoozed it off.” She paused in front of a student on the verge of sleeping. “However, if people like Jeongin and Beomgyu can keep up with their grades while being an idol, the rest of you don’t have an excuse.”

This set off a chain of laughter among the class, sparking playful shoves and words of congratulations towards each other, the occasional whine lost among the chatter. Wanting to congratulate Jeongin on his results, you spun to face him, only to find him animatedly typing on his phone. He must’ve noticed you staring (he always does, and he loves it), because the next thing you knew, you were enveloped in a hug from the fox-like boy.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou so much! I don’t think I could’ve passed this term without you!” His head was buried in your hair, and you could only briefly put out a soft “No biggie” while smothered in his chest.

“My hyungs texted that they were proud of me. It feels nice to have them happy like this instead of worrying all the time.”

Hearing the bittersweet tone coming from him, you snuck your arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze. “Better keep up the good grades then, right?”

Jeongin finally pulled apart, just in time to see your friends and his coming over to your tables, possibly to discuss your report cards. He chuckled, ruffling your hair like he did at the start of the term.

“You’ll have to just keep tutoring me then.”

#jeongin #jeongin fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #happy jeongin day!#tbh this was a wip since like... november #admin cola #pls enjoy and leave comments! its my first full length fic uwu #happy 19th jeonginie!

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peachymess · 4 years

Note

hi! your art is fantastic! i was wondering - how long does it take for you to finish an art work?

Thank you! ^^

And it varies greatly. Speed is my biggest obstacle when it comes to art. I could lie and say I doodle out stuff in an hour – or I could call half bad drawings I spent hours on, a “doodle”. Sometimes I think I do – but for me, “doodle” is more about how seriously I took the job. If I throw down lines and squiggles and do some line-arting on top without really caring about the details, that’s a doodle to me, even if I then proceed to spend hours on correcting lines, getting the colors right, and trying out different filters for every experimental shadow.

Over all, I spend a lot of time on drawing, and I mean a lot. But I’m getting better! They say you’ve gotta make 50 bad pieces for every good one (simplified, but you get the gist), so you’re best served not spending days on every piece. What I’ve found helps, is to not get overly invested in every piece. It’s a little sad, because you gotta have your heart in the art, right? Yeah. But that heart should be in your love for the craft and your enjoyment in performing it; not in one specific piece and its need to be perfect. Sure, some pieces are special, but if you can’t distinguish between your magnum opus and just your average drawing, every single drawing will feel equally important to you, and that will slow you down from the sheer weight of it.

Pro tip I wish someone would have told me a long time ago: nobody looks as closely at your drawings as you do (talking about the general public; loving friends might).

In other words, painfully slaving over details you find only when you zoom in,… ant nobody gonna tell the difference. Unless you’re insanely good and got 50K on insta, aint nobody gonna zoom in on all your work and look for the easter eggs you put in there (@me, lol). Learn what’s important to spend time on, and what can be left alone. If I had been given back all the time I’ve wasted on details that nobody even sees… I could have made a lot more art lol.

Learn what matters – like general proportions, interesting expression, big things that people could pick out from a distance. And story! Oh boy, don’t get me started on story! Unless you’re really good, people usually won’t be impressed with just a head shot with no story. Armin smiling generically into the void in ¾ view, no background?

“Cool. But I’ve seen a million generic Armins like it. Why should I be invested in this one in particular?”

Say something with your art, make me feel or think something. Because with so many good artists out there, it’s hard to get ahead on just the aesthetics alone. Make a joke. Show something mid-action (like someone slipping on a banana peel; instantly more engaging than a static pose that tells no story).

Why am I being so harsh? It all ties back to speed… Once you realize that your pieces, generally, aren’t that big of a deal, you can hopefully put aside some of that anxiety over it having to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be, and the details you spend an extra two days on will rarely matter to anyone but yourself (which is ok, I just want you to be aware. If you’re very proud of something, maybe point it out to invite people to pay attention to it. But otherwise, they probably won’t look at your drawing for that long before deciding to reblog or move on). If you enjoy making those details, please go ahead! Art should be about what YOU like to do, at the end of the day. But if your speed ties into your perceived self-worth, like it does with me,… well, I got a lot faster once I realized that nobody really cares all that strongly. (Though, I’m in no way discrediting all the support and love I receive, guys, thank you – truly. I’m talking in the grand scheme of things. Art is a lot more personal to the artist, than to the random scroller-by).

How many of you would stop being my friend or suddenly dislike me just because I draw Armin with a wonky nose and disproportionate arms sometimes? Yeah, no, if I put out an unfortunate piece, so what? (Hell, if I can tell a funny joke with it, you might even enjoy it all the same!) Once I learned to understand that every piece is not a blaring spotlight on me where all eyes will be on me and my mistakes, I got faster.

… and with that insanely long prologue, here’s how much time I generally spend:

The first art I started (in 2016), took over a year to finish.

Though, in the meantime, I think I put out a “doodle”. I call it a doodle because I intentionally simplified the anatomy so it would be easier to make – but this one still took me four months to finish!

(The above images took me a year, and 4 months respectively).

In other words, in 2016, my average was MONTHS – on just one drawing! Keep in mind, I quit art for ten years before this, just from how much anxiety is gave me over my self worth (if I made one bad line, it meant I was worthless).

In 2017, I think my average was weeks. I had to take breaks between sessions a lot just to cope with the building anxiety. I look at the finished products now and I think “look how few steps this needed. With how much time I spent, I must have averaged one single brush stroke an hour”. And it’s probably about right. Although, I did manage to finish one drawing in a single day, and I remember being really proud of that!

(Above, the first one is an example of stuff I’d tinker with for weeks, while the second one is the one I completed in a day due to it being his birthday and the pressure was on to get it done)

In 2018, I think my average was 2 or 3 days. I put out more smaller pieces, stuff that doesn’t need to be as elaborate. At my peak, I think I could do two of those meme-things per day. Looking back, though, I can see a clear difference between time spent on “doodles” and time spent on projects I put my heart into. I spent days on the eremin week entries, for example. This was the year I started to learn to tier my projects.

(The above shows an art I admittedly spent over a week on, much thanks to the needless details in the bottles, while the second is one of two pieces I completed during one day)

In 2019, I don’t think I shortened down my average a lot, but looking through my gallery now, I see that I started doing more elaborate pieces. So… if I spend as long as before, but get bigger and better content out of it, that’s improvement too!

(Above you’ll see an art that probably took me a couple of days - 4 or 5 maybe? - and the second once which took me an hour I think? A good example of how much better i’ve gotten at tiering projects and not being afraid of making sloppy art just for the fun of it).

So far in 2020, I’ve only drawn for Armin week, and I spent an evening to a day on each one of them. After finishing one, I’d uploading it to my drafts, then lie in bed and scrutinize it, zooming in, looking and looking. Then the next morning, I’d get up and spend an average of an hour fixing/editing them because I was getting increasingly displeased with them. So I think on average… god honest truth, even if I’m a little self-conscious about it, I think I spend an average of 8 - 18 sitting hours on anything. This includes the revisions.

(Above you’ll see the entry I spent the most time on first - I’m guessing probably 12 sitting hours - and the one I spent the least time on - I’m guessing 5 hours)

I love drawing, but it’s very hard for me. I’ve used drawing as my main source of personal self-improvement for the last couple of years - for many reasons; it has a lot of lessons to teach me. It’s not always fun, and it’s rarely easy. But.. uh. It’a been worth it? I don’t know what your art journey is, but I hope this gave you some help, inspiration or comfort. Good luck and draw with heart, not fear.

#art #personal #drawing #art struggles

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years

Text

Against All Odds (Ch. 11)

Christmas day came on fast. It was just like every morning since Quill brought him to his house, the storm blowing just as loud and hard as it was almost a week ago, and Scott wondered how long the storm was going to last. Six days had to be a record, and it was a miracle the streets weren't flooded. It was an even bigger one when Quill's neighborhood continued to have power. Quill took Scott home yesterday to grab some clean clothes and whatever else he might need, and the house was still as cold as they left it. Still no power.

Scott couldn't stay at Quill's forever though. He would have to go back home whether the power was back on or not and he wasn't looking forward to sleeping in an icebox again and going hungry. He was going to enjoy every moment he could with hot food and his own personal teddy bear. That's what Quill was after all, and it took staying the past few days at his house for Scott to discover that. He might be big and intimidating, but Quill was just a big softy toward those he cared about. Scott started to accept the fact that he was one of those people.

It was still a foreign concept, but Quill and Stephen were consistent enough that Scott allowed himself to start feeling less invisible.

At least when he didn't wake up with the comforter over his entire body. Scott was still curled up to Quill's side and using his shoulder as a pillow, but the older teen must have decided that Scott wasn't warm enough and brought the comforter up over his head. Considering Quill was a living, breathing heater though, Scott had to push the blanket down to get some cooler air before he suffocated. In fact, he needed a few seconds away from his boyfriend's heat and rolled away to cool down...only to have Quill growl and pull him back. Scott wasn't bothered with being pulled back against Quill, but the growl was weird. It was deep, possessive, and it sounded strange. Ethereal if he had to describe it.

Scott had to beat down his arousal before it made itself known. "Q-Quill...let go."

Instant release. The arm Quill had around Scott's back loosened, and the younger took the opportunity to roll away from him and bury his face into his cool, unused pillow. The moment he started to cool down, Scott fell back asleep again for another hour or so, and was woken up by Quill placing soft kisses on the exposed parts of his neck.

"Hnnnn...five more minutes." Scott mumbles and Quill chuckles.

"You do realize it's Christmas right?"

"So what? Wanna sleep." The younger grunts out. "You go on ahead."

"Alright, alright." Quill places one more kiss on the back of his neck, and then rolls out of bed. "I'll head down first. Take your extra five minutes then come eat."

Quill leaves the bedroom and Scott exhales heavily as soon as the door closes. Good. Quill would spend time with his family and do what they usually did on Christmas, and Scott would stay upstairs and be quiet as a mouse. He took his extra five minutes in bed, but then he got bored and couldn't fall asleep, so he crawled out of bed and sat at Quill's desk. With care, he put on the walkman headphones and started to doodle on a piece of paper as he listened to the mixtape, and he ended up grabbing another pencil to tap it against the desk as he drew.

Christmas didn't mean anything to him. It was just another day he spent at home keeping himself busy, but since he wasn't home he had to make do with what Quill had in his room. He could doodle, watch TV or a movie, or he could read. Scott was pretty sure he saw a book or two in Quill's room. He was content to draw for now though. His only problem was how he was going to eat. At home he would just go downstairs and eat whenever, but he wasn't home and he didn't want to disturb Quill and his family.

He would just have to go without today.

"SCOTT!" Said teen jumps at the sudden yell and he pulls off the headphones to let them rest around his neck as he looks over at Quill. "What are you still doing up here?"

"Um…" Scott watches as Quill walks over to stop the music and take the headphones off of him completely to return to the walkman sitting on his desk. "I was keeping myself busy."

"Keeping yourself…?" Quill furrows his brows in confusion. "It's Christmas."

"Yeah...I know." Scott turns back to his awful drawing to continue scribbling a tree into the background.

Quill seemed to understand that Scott was happy to stay up in the room as he walked away and left him to his drawing, but just as the younger was going to start up some music again, the bedroom door opened again. Did the older teen abandon time with his family so Scott wouldn't be alone? That wasn't right. Besides his grandfather, Quill didn't see his family very often and Scott didn't want to take away from that any more than he had. Just as he was about to turn his head to tell Quill to spend time with his family, the older teen set a small flat box, wrapped in brightly colored paper, on top of Scott's crudely drawn landscape.

"What's this?" Scott asks carefully.

"A Christmas present. For you." Quill answers and his eyes widen in surprise when Scott pushes away from the desk and makes his chair roll back.

"No!"

"What the hell? No?"

"I can't accept that!" Scott stammers.

"Why the fuck not?" Quill asks with some disappointment.

"I wasn't expecting anything and I didn't get anything for you! I can't even afford to! You and your family--"

"Scott."

"--have done way more than enough for me and I don't even deserve your kindness. I'm just an unfortunate guest--"

"Wow, you really do word vomit." The older teen whispers.

"--that you had to put up for a few days so I didn't freeze or starve to death. I promise I'll pay you guys back somehow once I get--mmph!"

Scott's rant was interrupted mid-sentence when Quill stepped closer to Scott, leaned down, and tilted the younger's head up by his chin to kiss him. Any further thought Scott had evaporated the moment he processed that Quill was kissing him, and he sat in stunned silence when his boyfriend finally pulled away. Was he breathing? No. He should probably do that.

"Merry Christmas to me." Quill says with a sly smirk and Scott blushes bright red. "I promise your gift to me is a lot better than what I got you, so will you please open it?"

"Okay." Scott wheezes out and accepts the small present that Quill grabs from the desk and hands to him.

He stared at the gift like it was going to bite him if he tried to open it, but he gathered himself after a few seconds and gently pulled at the ribbon to untie it and let it fall into his lap. The paper was next and got the same treatment as the ribbon, and then Scott opened the box to find two identical black woven bracelets. One just a little bigger than the other. Quill grabs the smaller one and silently asks for Scott's arm once he crouches down, and Scott holds up his left arm and watches him snap it onto his wrist. He then takes the second one and places it on his own (left) wrist and then looks up at Scott with a raised eyebrow.

"Like I said, it's not much and I know this relationship is kind of new, but it can still be a friendship bracelet--wow...that sounded so much better in my head." Quill says with a short. "I just thought of you when I saw them and I had a feeling you've never gotten a gift before, so I got them."

Quill thought of him. He saw a matching pair of woven bracelets and thought of him. That was the greatest gift Quill could have given him, even if he never bought the bands...and stealing a kiss from Scott was Quill's Christmas present from him? Scott could do better than that. He hoped.

He shoves the remains of the wrappings off of his lap, slides off the chair into Quill's lap, and grips the older teen's hair before kissing him. He didn't care that he was inexperienced and was probably going about this all wrong, but it didn't matter once Quill took control of the kiss. One of his hands gripped the back of Scott's neck, and the other landed at the small of his back to bring him even closer as he gently bit Scott's lower lip, and then he suddenly had Quill's tongue in his mouth. Merry Christmas to Scott.

He even tasted like cinnamon.

"Fuck, you even taste like mint and oranges." Quill groans into his mouth, and then tilts Scott's head back to nibble on his pulse point.

He wanted more. He wanted to be held tighter and turn into a puddle of goo for Quill to do whatever he wanted with, because this much touch and affection was overwhelming. Overwhelming and amazing, and Scott was drinking it in like he was dehydrated. When he whimpered after Quill pulled away from his neck with a pop, the older teen groaned and Scott had to keep himself from getting too excited. Quill brought his head back down to return his attention to Scott's mouth, and this time he tried to reciprocate the kiss. Scott had no intention to fight for dominance, he just wanted to taste the cinnamon in every corner of his boyfriend's mouth.

Even if that meant sucking on his tongue...but Quill beat him to it. He sucked and sucked until Scott was sure his tongue was going to be detached from his mouth, and then Quill finally stopped. He gently nipped and pulled at Scott's lower lip again as he pulled away and then rested his forehead against Scott's as they both worked on catching their breath.

"If we go any further, things might get awkward." Quill gasps out and Scott catches another flash in his eyes when he manages to sputter out a laugh. "That was only half of your present by the way."

Scott blinks at him once he moves his head away a bit. "There's more?"

"Yup. This is something you need too."

Scott tilts his head in curiosity after Quill lifts him off his lap and onto the floor, and the older teen gets up and walks over to his closet door. It was a small walk-in, so Quill disappeared into it for a second, but when he came out, he was holding a teddy bear that was a little over half Scott's size. The younger teen stares at the stuffed animal once Quill places it on the ground in front of him and then reaches out to touch the soft material of the fur.

"Hold on. Something's missing." Quill states as he scrutinizes the bear. "Wait. I got it." He disappears into his closet again, brings out a black sweater, and puts it on the bear. "There. Now you have something to cuddle when I can't be there to do it myself."

Scott grabs the bear and pulls it closer to him to look over and he runs his hands over the soft fur. At least what wasn't covered by Quill's sweater. The teddy bear was an overwhelming gift in a different way. A good way. Scott never had a Christmas before, and he never had a stuffed animal either. Today, Quill gave him both and Scott could only wrap his arms around the stuffed toy and bury his face into it and try to hold his tears back. He almost failed when he smelled cinnamon on the bear.

"You like it?" Quill asks nervously. "I know your gifts are kind of dumb…"

"No. They're great. I really do need the bear." Scott mumbles against the stuffed animal.

"Good. Now how about you put it aside for now and come downstairs with me? We'll male you some hot apple cider and you can have cookies and chocolate for breakfast if you want." The older teen holds out his hand and Scott looks up from his bear at it.

"I don't want to intrude on your time with your family."

"Even when they're asking where you are? Besides, I'm pretty sure there are a couple more presents waiting downstairs for you."

Scott looks at Quill in surprise when he mentions the gifts and takes his hand to allow his boyfriend to pull him to his feet. The younger sets his teddy bear next to his side of the bear before following Quill to the bedroom door, and then squeaks when the older teen stops him long enough for another kiss. Scott follows Quill in a daze after he moves away and opens the door, and they walk down the hall and then the stairs to the kitchen. There, Sophie makes him some cider and sends him into the living room where all of the cookies and sweets are, and Scott stops in the entryway.

The living room was decorated for Christmas, and that wasn't even including the tree in the corner near the window. Scott never got to enjoy a Christmas tree before, and when he stepped closer, he found that it was real and could smell the pine. They were definitely nicer in person than what he saw in the movies.

"You act like you've never seen a Christmas tree before." One of Quill's cousins say from the couch (Scott couldn't recall his name).

"Not a real one. Not in person." Scott replies quietly.

"Guess your parents don't take the time to get a real one. You have one of those fake ones?"

"Uh...yeah." Scott lies as he sits as far from the family as possible to enjoy his cider.

Even if this wasn't his family, it was nice watching them interact while they exchanged gifts, and Scott thoroughly enjoyed the cookies another one of the family members had made. Halfway through his second helping of cider (that Sophie had kindly topped off for him), Scott grunts out in surprise when something heavy lands in his lap. He coughs as he pulls the mug away from his mouth and looks down in his lap to find another colorfully wrapped gift waiting to be opened.

Quill returns to his side with his own gift and points to the present in Scott's lap. "That's from Stephen. I already opened mine from him. Lots of cinnamon candy and a dictionary. I'm pretty sure the dictionary was a funny insult."

"I think he gave me bricks." Scott wheezes out, and Quill sniggers as he takes the younger's mug so he can open the present.

It wasn't bricks. It was a box of Capri Suns, a couple of books, and a couple bags of orange slice candies. When Scott dug a little deeper into the box, he found a first aid kit as well, and he huffed in both appreciation and annoyance. He was prone to getting sick, not busting his head open. Knowing his luck though, he would need it eventually, and Stephen was just three steps ahead like always.

"Here I thought orange juice was the reason you taste like oranges." Quill mutters just loud enough for only Scott to hear and the younger teen blushes.

"You still have to figure out why I taste like mint." Scott mutters back, blushing even more when he realized he had just flirted with Quill.

"I'm always up for a challenge. Especially when it comes to you."

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ppaltagon · 5 years

Text

Pentababies - Pentagon in Kindergarten

Jinho:

Smol baby

Doesn't reach things on the top of the shelves but refuses to ask for help

Uses the toys to build a stepladder-like thing or just climbs up, doesn’t get discouraged when he falls down but stops to cry for a while

Loudly sings children songs all the time and teaches the others said songs

Actually, there is a designated time when everyone gathers around him and all the kids are singing

You're a little jealous of him because the kids listen to him more than they do to you

There’s this one teddy bear that’s bigger than him and he claimed it as his best friend

Is a good boy and eats everything but a look at his face tells the utter disgust he feels while chewing that broccoli and sometimes you just pity him and give him extra snacks after lunch

But also, he steals food from the others when they’re not looking

Hides stolen food and snacks in his pockets and eats them alone when nobody is looking

If someone tries to steal his food, he will bite their hands

Hui:

He’s either crying or screaming, he’s never quiet

Most screams are caused by him belting out children songs and folk songs and it took you a while to realize, he’s actually really good at singing

Runs around screaming with Hyojong and Shinwon while Hyunggu is clinging to him and has the time of his life everyday

You have to force him outside because “ugh sunshine and fresh air who needs that”

Has sooo much fun once he’s out

Cries when he trips and falls and acts like he’s actually dying, there is nothing you can do to make him stop

Eats fairly well but somehow, he always gets food all over his face and his shirt, it’s a mystery how he does that every single time, even when he wears a bib

Hongseok calls him dirty. Things escalate. A food fight begins.

Literally refuses to go to sleep because he is NOT tired AT ALL (said while rubbing his eyes) and puts up a real fight (which only results him ending up even more tired)

Falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow

Hongseok:

He really is a good kid (at least he tries to be one)

Most of the time, he’s in the corner flipping through books alone or with Changgu

Experience tells you, when he’s with Changgu, they’re not really talking about the books and you’re very uneasy

Annoys the others with jokes and cries when someone tells him he’s not funny but he’s a “man” so holds back his tears and tries to come up with new ones

The smartest child

One day, he really got into lego and now he can build a whole ass spaceship and the coolest robots

There's no food he doesn’t like however, he likes to be clean and likes well-behaving at the table – something most of the others don’t really do...

Gets into food fights at least three times per week because he called out someone (mostly Hyojong) for eating like a pig

Loves, loves, loves playing outside, just running around with the others or pretending to be soldiers or pirates or secret agents

Collects big sticks and pretends they’re swords and challenges everyone to duels – won't let the loser live but cries when he loses

He falls asleep fast which is kind of surprising because he has his own little nap times during the day as well where he just lies down in a corner and sleeps for a while

More often than not, he wakes up with his face doodled on

Hyojong:

Your arch enemy.

Screams. He doesn’t have a reason. He just. Stands there and starts screeching.

Or runs around screaming

A very curious child

One day, he was curious to see what you were drinking. He drank your coffee. That was a nightmare.

Helps Yanan trying to escape

Teases Hyunggu because he thinks it’s funny how easily he cries

But if anyone else makes Hyunggu cry he’s gathering everyone and they beat up the little shit, nobody is allowed to hurt his friends

Loves playing outside a lot more than inside

Climbing on monkey bars are boring, he’s climbing on trees like a real baby monkey

Has scratches all over his body but rarely cries

Flirts with the moms and they think he’s an angel

Not only embarrasses you in front of your crush but curses at them and tells them you taught him the words

You can’t just get a lover, you would pay him less attention then

If he doesn’t like the food at lunch, he just stares at it before he gets the idea that if he can’t eat it, he should just throw it at Hongseok – cue to a food fight starting because it’s f u n

Is quite obedient to go to sleep and you just assume it’s because he tired himself out

But he’s not sleeping, he goes around and whispers in the other kids’ ear to try and get in their dreams or doodles on their faces, etc.

Wakes up Wooseok to help him draw on the others faces

Shinwon:

Scared child

On the first day, he was like “oh no people mom please don’t leave me here” but now he’s one of the loudest ones and all he does is scream then coughs because he screamed way too much and now his throat hurts

The victim of literally everyone’s pranks, like the whole kindergarten teamed up against him and he acts all dramatic like he’s all alone in this cold dark world

But then just starts throwing books and toys he knows will hurt if thrown to the others

Hates going outside because ugh bugs – steps on Hyunggu’s new bug buddies and makes Hyunggu cry

It's been a year since he goes to this kindergarten but if you think he won’t sit disappointed every single mealtime by the table because “this is not a hamburger” then you’re wrong

And you’re like, “this is a sandwich, it’s almost like a hamburger, please eat your food like the other good kids.”

Changgu repeats your sentence, Hongseok adds his own unwanted opinion, Hyojong throws a piece of bread at Hongseok, chaos erupts

Every year, a photographer comes to take a group picture – he and Hongseok strike some weird pose every single time, there’s no stopping them

Goes to sleep like a good child however, he hid snacks in his pillow and eats them in secret because he is definitely not sharing

Hyojong comes up to him and whispers in his ear. There’s a muffled scream. Shinwon joins them in doodling on the others faces.

Changgu:

The little shit that embarrasses you in front of your crush because he’s going to marry you when he grows up

And you can’t possibly be mad at him because he’s just so damn adorable

Always gives you gifts like drawings, toys, his food, flowers he found on the sidewalk

One time, he stole his mom’s jewelry and wanted to gift it to you...

Helps you set the table, gather the kids, scolds them right after you scold them, always tells you you’re right – he's like a baby parrot

Actually, he just wants you to compliment him because he basically lives off of compliments

He and Hongseok befriended each other by the bookshelf and now they’re memorizing stories which they lowkey force the others to play out

Organized a little theater every Friday where they show it to you

Now he’s in charge of choosing what to perform to the parents on special events

beats Hongseok in “sword duels” and laughs in his face then declares he’s the strongest man in this kindergarten – gets beat the next day and cries while Hongseok is laughing in his face

Is friends with everyone, lowkey hates half of his friends because they don’t appreciate him

Plans revenge every time he gets pranked but never has the courage to carry them out (though Yanan would be more than delighted to help)

Eats everything even if he hates it because then you’re going to be proud of him and pat him on the head and that fills him with power

Couldn’t be more enthusiastic to go to sleep because he’s always tired even if he seems energetic and it’s absolutely impossible to wake him up

His mom has to take him home while he’s still asleep a lot

Yanan:

Cries the moment his mom lets go of his hand and leaves

It took a while for him to get used to the new environment but the moment he stopped crying on the first day, Changgu grabbed his hand and showed him his favorite toys and now they’re best friends

A quiet child

Sometimes maybe even too quiet

You keep an eye on him because one day, you just assumed he’s quiet and the lady from the bakery at the end of the street brought him back

Ever since then, you caught him trying to escape several times

Plays well alone but doesn’t mind company, except if someone tries to take his toy – he doesn’t hesitate to hit them

If it’s time to play outside, he runs straight to the swings – one time, Changgu wouldn’t let him to the swings and Yanan pushed him out of it

Both of them cried for an hour while hugging each other after that...

Really, everyone just loves him because he’s too cute

Lunchtime is problematic for him because he just loves sweets way too much and doesn’t want to eat proper food, especially vegetables

You have to convince him to eat them by promising him more sweets as dessert

One time, he got sugar high and it was a catastrophe so now you control how much sweets he gets

Which is very difficult because if he doesn’t get them whenever he craves them, he throws a tantrum

He gets very sleepy after eating so it’s easy to put him to bed however, he can’t fall asleep alone, someone needs to hold his hand

Yuto:

He is supposed to be a calm kid but you still keep an eye on him because either Hyunggu or Wooseok are constantly clinging on him (sometimes both on both sides of him)

Hates nap times because you close the curtains and the room gets dark and he’s very afraid in the dark

Only can fall asleep if someone (mostly Wooseok) is holding his hand

Every single stuffed animal belongs to him!

He named every single one of them

The type of kid that notices when you’re sad and tries to cheer you up by giving you a plushie

He’s like a fairy, going around giving out plushies to whoever is crying and hugging them until they calm down

Loves nature and he, Hyunggu and Wooseok built a bird feeder to take care of the birds in the neighborhood

Collects pretty stones and flowers and he got so excited when you showed him how to dry flowers so he can take them home and help his mom decorate the house

There is only one plushie that’s not his and that’s Jinho’s bear and he only lets him have it in exchange of Jinho giving him extra lessons on children songs

He eats everything because he believes it when you say he will grow up big and strong if he eats all the vegetables

Whenever there’s a food fight, he makes sure his plushies won’t get dirty and takes his plate and moves out of the danger zone

His bed is so full of plushies he barely has any space left for himself but if any of them goes missing, he will notice it + Wooseok and/or Hyunggu still find a way to crawl in his bed and cuddle

Hyunggu:

The cutest child, an actual angel (kind of)

Cries. A lot. Like all the time.

Cries because the dragon kidnapped the princess in that fairy tale you’re reading, cries because Hyojong took his toy, cries because the others are teasing him for crying, cries because he has nobody to hug, cries because he doesn’t like the food, cries because he misses his mom, etc.

Someone has to pay attention to him all the time or he throws a tantrum

Is constantly attached to someone, just hugging and refusing to let go because that’s how he plays

Can't sit still for the world, you swear he didn’t consume any sugar where does he get so much energy from????

Accidentally breaks toys and blames it on other children then cries because he can’t deal with the guilt

Kisses everyone because he has so much love to give but whenever someone kisses him, he gets offended and disgusted – the others keep kissing him for that exact reason

Running towards a dog that’s twice his size and obviously barking at him aggressively: “pUPPYYYYY~~!!!!”

Likes to play outside and makes friends with all the bugs, follows ants, chases butterflies, feeds birds etc.

Jumps into every single puddle after a rainy day and encourages everyone to do the same because it’s F U N !!!!!!!!!

Has absolutely no fear but cries whenever he trips and falls

Gets himself out of eating stuff he doesn’t like or doing things he doesn’t want to do by pouting and the puppy eyes because you just CAN’T SAY NO to him

Sticks out his tongue at the others when they get offended for him getting better food a g ai N

He picks a cuddle buddy for every day and only sleeps if he’s hugged (the other boy doesn’t have a say in this)

Wooseok:

Tol child

Puts Jinho’s favorite toys on the top of the shelves to mess with him

A creative boy who loves drawing – sadly, rarely draws on paper

Doodles on the walls until Hyojong directs his attention to Hongseok’s sleeping face

After a while, the kids realize he really draws well so now they’re playing “tattoo salon” in which Wooseok draws on their skin – this is an illegal business and they’re very careful not to get caught by you

He and Hyojong are the ones to intimidate anyone who tries to bully their friends and nobody dared to mess with their group twice

Sometimes you can’t find him no matter how many times you call his name and an hour or so you find him either sleeping in a closet or buried under Yuto’s plushies

He’s a smarter kid than you think, also very helpful

Shouts at the others to stay quiet if you have something to say and they don’t listen

Takes no shit and questions everything

Criticizes the fairy tales, tells fairies and dragons don’t even exist – that made everyone cry

He only pretends Santa is real because Yuto will cry for days if he said otherwise and he couldn’t bring himself to do that to him

Goes outside only to lie down on the slide and never get up, laughs as the others try to push him down

Will not eat what he doesn’t like and there is absolutely nothing that can change his mind, he rather starves (read: begs Jinho for food or steals Shinwon's snacks)

He pretends to go to sleep but then stays up all the time pranking the others with Hyojong so that’s why he sleeps so much during the day

Has his no prank days when he’s cuddling with Yuto and/or Hyunggu

- Admin Anna (writing something nobody asked for but everybody needs)

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thewritewolf · 5 years

Text

Rekindle Chapter 5 - Baking

While getting settled in to watch some movies, Marinette and Chat Noir bake some cookies for snacking.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“Really? That’s why your coworkers are mad at you? Seems like a really stupid thing to keep a grudge over.” Chat Noir sipped at the tea Marinette had made for him, holding the mug very carefully to avoid scratching it was his clawed gloves.

“I know, right?! So I had one bad day two years ago and they will still barely talk to me.” She sighed. “I’ve already started looking around for other internships. Even if I don’t get better pay, it’ll at least be nice not to be a social outcast.”

It had been sweet of Chat Noir to listen to her vent for the last… three hours, she realized with a wince as she glanced at her clock. When had Chat Noir become so patient? Her experience with him from Ladybug’s perspective was a hothead who rushed into things without thinking. There had been times where she had to worry more about reining in his more moody episodes than fighting the akuma of the day. Yet here he was, letting her get all her frustrations off her chest while being as supportive as ever.

“It definitely isn’t fair, purrincess. But I think I know what will cheer you up…” She tilted her head to the side as he stretched for the gift box he’d brought. Holding up the dvds, he grinned at her, “...movie night!”

“Hm… sounds good, but missing something.” She tapped her chin for added effect.

“And what’s that?”

“We’ll need snacks. Lots of them.” She caught him glancing towards the last remnants of their dinner. “Pasta is not movie food, chaton, not even delicious pasta.” He puffed his chest out at her off-handed compliment. “How does sugar cookies sound to you?”

“I’ll defer to your superior movie day expertise.” They stood at the same time, but Chat Noir hesitated. “It’s, uh… been awhile since I’ve made cookies. Like, years. So I’ll follow your lead on this one.”

“Well, it’s good for you that I practically grew up baking delicious treats.” She started pulling out all the ingredients she’d need. “Sugar cookies really aren’t that hard, so I’ll just whip up the batter myself. You can help roll them out into balls before we put them in the oven.”

Chat Noir sighed dramatically, holding aloft his chef’s hat. Even after three hours of talking, she didn’t know why he’d brought it besides being a dork. “Ah, from head chef to mere bystander. How the mighty have fallen.”

“Well since you seem so familiar with my kitchen, you can get the pan out and greased while I’m going this.”

“Yes, chef!” Despite the crisp salute, he moved leisurely and hummed a song that Marinette couldn’t quite place while he worked. She was still stirring when he was finished and watching her expectantly.

She stared pointedly at his hands. “Those gauntlets come off, Chat?”

“Yes…? Oh, right. Probably don’t want me rolling cookies in these, do you?” He chuckled to himself as he undid some latch underneath the bulky gloves and Marinette blinked as she realized that this was the first time she’d ever seen her partners bare hands.

They weren’t what she had expected, although she wasn’t aware she even had expectations of what he looked like outside the suit. Since Chat was always a wild child and full of life, she had expected maybe some scars or calluses. Maybe a tan from long days outside. Instead, they looked… soft and well manicured. No sign of rough usage or long healed injuries. The hands of someone who took their looks seriously, and stayed out of trouble. She realized she was staring and quickly looked down at what she was stirring as Chat Noir went to wash his hands.

The rest of the process was spent in companionable quiet and between the two of them all the dough was rolled and flattened in no time at all. Even with her distracted by his bare hands - she’d already been proven wrong twice about her long standing assumptions about him. What else could she have incorrectly assumed?

Once she set the pan in the oven, she asked, “So… want to play a game to pass the time?”

As expected, that got his interest. Though he tried to hide the excitement in his voice, she could see it in his eyes and by the swishing of his tail. “Sure! What did you have in mind?”

“Well, some sweetheart just got me some new sketchbooks, so I was thinking we could do kind of like a drawing charades? We draw something and the other person has to guess what it is. Every three correct answers and we’ll swap positions. Sound good?”

“Sounds purr-fect.” When she pushed the book over to him, he shook his head and pushed it back. “Host gets first turn. Even I know that rule.”

WIth the help of a random word generator, she began sketching the first object. She didn’t make it far from the symmetrical design before Chat Noir made his guess.

“Butterfly?” He grinned. “I’d rather leave work at work, if you don’t mind, Marinette.”

“Okay, fair enough. Butterfly was probably too easy a start. What about this…” She quickly jotted out an outline with four legs, whiskers, and a tail.

He snickered. “Really? Its a cat. No? What else could it - oh, a kitten.”

“Almost got you there, Chat. Can’t get too cocky. Last one before we switch.”

“Uhh, a circle. A pancake? No. Soup with sprinkles?” She looked at where he was hovering over her shoulder and raised her eyebrow. “What? It could happen. Cake with candles.” She gestured for him to continue. “...Oh! Birthday cake.”

“Good job. Now,” she passed the sketchbook and phone with the word generator to him, only now noticing how close he’d gotten, “Your turn.”

He took the offered pencil sheepishly. “Okay, just keep in mind I’m not as good at drawing as you.”

“And that’s part of the challenge for me.” She glanced at the clock. Still a while to go until the cookies were done. “Start when you’re ready.”

His first drawing was a crowd of people just barely above stick figure quality, but what tipped her off was how there was two bigger ones and a smaller one - which lead her to the correct guess of family. Next he made a long-sleeved shirt with surprisingly good detail. The two of them had gone through her fall clothing sketchbooks before. Was that where he learned to draw sweaters? The last one had been more abstract, but his little forest scene made more sense when he doodled wind and falling leaves. In hindsight, autumn should have been obvious.

“Alright, my turn again.” She hesitated for a moment before turning the page, savoring the little drawings Chat had made before starting her turn.

With only a single rectangle to go off of Chat Noir began guessing. “Box!” She added z’s coming off of it. “Tired box. Sleeping box. Bed!”

She took quick break to laugh before turning to him incredulously. “Sleeping box?!”

“I remembered the word eventually,” he grumbled. “Did I at least get it right?”

“No, but you’re close. Let’s see if this helps…” She drew another rectangle around the box and he finally got it.

“Oh! Pillow!”

She nodded and started work on her next drawing. It didn’t take long for him to figure out ‘gloves’, especially since she just copied his suit’s. Just as she reached for her phone to go for another round, she saw the time.

“Cookies should be done now, so that’s the end of the game.” She saw a brief look of disappointment on Chat Noir’s face. “Don’t worry, we can always play again some other time.”

“I’ll hold you to that. At least sugar cookies are a good reason to stop.” He took a deep breath as she took them out of the oven. “Ahhhh… delicious.”

She giggled, “You haven’t even had any!”

“Well, it’s a dupain-cheng baked good, so it goes without saying.”

“Such a flatterer.”

“I don’t hear you denying it.”

“And that’s because it’s true. Doesn’t make you any less of a flatterer for bringing it up.” She set the platter of cookies on the table. “Don’t eat all those while I’m gone. I’m going to scrounge up a bunch of pillows and blankets. Can you get ready to start the movies while I’m looking?”

“Sure.”

It took awhile for her to find where she’d stashed all of it. After all, it had been months, if not a full year since she’d needed to pull out extra pillows and blankets. Which made her stop and really think. Had it been so long since she’d had anyone stay over? She’d gotten into such an exhausting routine at work, she hadn’t even realized. By the time she came back, Chat Noir was lounging on her couch, eyes closed and hands behind his head. The television wasn’t even on, much less set up. She narrowed her eyes at him and walked towards him.

He cracked open one eye and grinned at her. “Hey, purrincess. Find everything- ack!” His sentence was cut off when she dumped everything onto him and jumped on top of it. “Hey! I was laying here!”

She coyly looked down at him, being sure to open her eyes in mock surprise. “Oh! Sorry. I must not have noticed you there.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I’m comfortable. Are you ready to watch some movies.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Get off and I’ll start them.”

She jumped off of him and while he was busy with the dvd player, Marinette unfolded the blankets and strategically placed some pillows while pulling up the table to put the cookies on. By the time he was done, she was under the blankets and holding them up for him. He slipped in after turning off the lights and their marathon began.

-------------------------

The light of the credits provided scant illumination for the room. Despite eating all the sugar cookies, the two of them were feeling drained after the long day and relaxing in front of the television. Marinette was barely able to keep her eyes open. She’d long since given up the struggle to sitting up straight and she was leaning against Chat Noir, her head was resting on his shoulder. As sleepy as she felt that she was, she knew that Chat was doing even worse, since he’d already nodded off a couple times during the last movie. She pulled herself away from Chat, only now noticing that his arm had snaked around her at some point during the last few hours. Stretching, she stood and gently nudged him.

“Chat? It’s pretty late and it doesn’t feel right to send you out when you’re this tired. You want to crash here?”

Yawning, he replied, “If that’s alright with you, yeah.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you to the guest room. Grab some of those pillows and blankets and make yourself comfortable.”

He shambled after her, only reluctantly still awake before collapsing onto the guest bed. No sooner had she closed the door than a flash of green light appeared under the door. Her heart fluttered for a moment - on the other side of the door was whoever Chat Noir actually was. She stood still for a few long heartbeats before his snoring broke her out of it.

“Goodnight, kitty,” she whispered before heading to bed herself.

#MarichatMay2019 #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Marichat #ml fanfiction #my writing #Rekindle

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miraculousmumma · 5 years

Note

Love square alphabet ask! I am debating between Out of the Ordinary, Random, and Vulnerable, and I legit don't know which square side I want, so surprise me? :D?

Oh these are good ones! I’ll try do what I did with the previous ask and cover all four sides in an established relationship post reveal scenario! Hope you like it!

O = Out of the Ordinary(What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?)

I mentioned it before but during and post an akuma attack Ladybug is still all business. She just can’t shake the responsibility and feeling she needs to get away before her transformation wears off. She still prefers to do this without Chat Noir present. Old habits die hard.

Chat Noir feels so at home in his own skin (tight suit) that there is nothing he wouldn’t do in front of or for his lady. Except for one thing. Getting ‘caught short’ in his suit once was quite enough to let him know that fumbling with a zipper that was actually a large bell after one too many energy drinks on a late night photoshoot wasn’t subtle. He had never been so relieved (haha) that no one was there to hear him cursing as the tinkling bell chimed his frustration and desperation.

Marinette won’t let Adrien cook, and she won’t tell him why. She adores him; he’s handsome, and sweet, smart, just plain amazing...but this boy could burn water. He brought her breakfast in bed one morning and Marinette smiled and ate what was possibly the worst meal she had ever tasted in her entire life. From that point on she promised herself that she would firstly, never let him cook again, even if it meant dragging herself from her bed every day before him to ensure he wasn’t able to let loose in the kitchen. And, secondly, that she would never tell him just how awful he really was at it.

Adrien will never let Marinette pay a bill. It doesn’t matter if she tries to pay when excusing herself to go to the bathroom, or if she insists in advance that she will at least pay her share, Adrien always somehow beats her to it. She’s pretty certain he calls in advance and hands over his card details, as he never leaves the table to do so, lavishing all his attention on her from the moment they arrive to the moment they leave.

There was also another thing Adrien had never done for Marinette. Thanks to the internet, mostly memes and ‘best boyfriend ever’ posts, he wanted to buy her sanitary products. He wasn’t embarrassed to do so, he wanted to be her knight in shining armor...what he wasn’t expecting was the absolutely extensive range of products he was confronted with. He tried calling Alya, wondering if Marinette had a preferred brand, style, shape, type, flow rate...that’s a thing?! In the end, he got help from the store clerk, bought one of everything to have delivered that afternoon, and a couple of extra things to boot. Marinette didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when the delivery arrived. Box after box of sanitary products finished off with a large box of chocolates, a bottle of pain medication, and a bouquet of flowers.

R = Random(How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?)

Adrien is very spontaneous, both in and out of costume. He will turn up on Marinette’s balcony with a picnic basket, surprise her with tickets to the latest Jagged Stone concert or to fashion week but always last minute. Sometimes he will simply pick her up without letting her know where they were going, once even ending up in Italy for pizza because nothing is too good for his princess. His opportunity to be spontaneous when she is Ladybug, however, is a little more difficult. At least once a month though he will try and set them up a sunset picnic at the top of the Eiffel Tower for after patrol.

Ladybug is all business, even after the reveal, even after they get together. The suits are for emergency use and patrols only, not for galavanting about like two lovebirds...which is why Adrien was absolutely amazed when she tapped on his bedroom window one night and invited him out for a yo-yo around town. He was even more surprised when she dropped down in the middle of a shoot, insisting he needed to be taken to safety. There was no akuma attack, Ladybug just hadn’t seen her busy boyfriend in a couple of days and was having withdrawal.

As for Marinette though? She doesn’t go for grand spontaneous gestures, hers are more subtle but mean the world to Adrien just the same. Sometimes he would find a note from her in his bag, telling him to ‘slay’ with a doodle of a ladybug and a selection of kisses. She made him cakes, crocheted little amigurumi keyrings (he has quite a selection hanging off his bag now, to the point he began a new trend), and her texts? The girl may be shy and still stumble over her words, but in a text she’s very articulate and sometimes downright suggestive. Several times Adrien has found himself hot under the collar on a shoot due to the nature of their contents but, the most spontaneous she ever was, was when she sent him a very cleverly posed photograph of herself, laying on her bed and biting her lip with one shoulder strap of her vest hanging down. Adrien feigned illness and left the shoot in minutes.

V = Vulnerable(How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

These two trust one another 100%. They trust one another more than they trust themselves. This lets them be completely open with the other, able to express anything and knowing they will still have their backs.

Adrien finds it harder, coming from such a strict and unloving home (just gonna say, I fricking hate you, Gabri-douche), and the first time he breaks down he apologises repeatedly while trying to make himself stop. It was Mother’s Day and all it did was remind him that his was gone and he had no idea how or why. When the tears wouldn’t stop he took himself off as Chat Noir, hiding away on top of Notre Dame, but Ladybug knew just where to find him. She sat behind him with her legs either side of his hips, curved her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his back. In just minutes Adrien was able to calm down enough to tell her everything; how he felt, which days were worse, and she listened intently, never once telling him to pull himself together. In fact, the most she spoke was when she told him he had no need to keep apologising. She would listen to him for a thousand years and a thousand more if that was what he needed.

Marinette wants to be perfect. Adrien is perfect, he deserves the perfect girlfriend, which means for a long time Marinette won’t let her guard down. She has complete and total faith in him, but not in herself. She might embarrass him, she might do something the press doesn’t like, what if Gabriel hates her? The list went on. It took some time but eventually, she relaxed. She knew she wasn’t perfect and Adrien made sure she knew that didn’t matter to him. He loved her for who she was.

Ladybug doesn’t like showing her vulnerable side. She’s the hero of Paris and as such, she prefers to be cool, calm and collected at all time. It doesn’t mean she is, but she tries. And in those times where she can’t remain in control, she knows her partner will be there for her; with a witty pun, a kind word, or a flirtatious wink that helps her see the bigger picture.

Sorry if there are any typos! It’s 1am and I’m tired out so I’m heading to bed! Thanks for asking!

SFW A-Z ASKS!

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chokefriends · 5 years

Text

Pit-town Strays Ch.3

Kidlaw softness and redneck shenanigans in a northern mining town. Everything’s fucked but whatever.

Rated T, no warnings.

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - [Ch. 3] - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5

Read on Ao3 too, I’m Ossicle

The next morning was a comfortable jumble—coffee, laundry, and UFO ‘documentaries’ playing in the background on the big tv. Kidd thudded around in his boxers, yelling at Nami to put some actual clothes on for once, and burning toast in the oven.

“If your toaster wasn't being a radio, you might get toast out of it,” Law pointed out.

“Ah fuck that. I got a laptop with a broken fan that runs hot enough to burn the table… I can probably rig that up and it'll work. Hm.”

Law shook his head. “Whatever. Towels? I'm gonna shower.”

Kidd waved a hand as he dug around in a kitchen drawer full of tools. “Use whatever one, they're all pretty clean.”

Law found the stack of clean towels, and locked himself in the bathroom before going about his usual, highly involved routine. It wasn't like either of these tar-pit kids cared if his nails were trimmed or stuff like that, but he liked feeling put-together in the details, even if he'd slept in his clothes and had kind of a hangover.

He got out of the shower to find Nami sitting on the counter, chewing a toothbrush.

“Nami! The door was locked!” He hid behind the shower curtain and grabbed his towel.

“Yah.”

“That means don't come in!” he emerged with a towel around him and tried to shoo her out.

“What is it that?” She pointed at his skin.

“Tattoos.”

“Tattoos are hurt?”

“No, they're fine. Out.” He picked her up and set her outside the bathroom door, then closed it.

“My toothbrUSH!” she screeched.

Law cracked the door enough to stick the toothbrush out, then closed, locked and latched it. But the doorknob fucking rattled again like two minutes later.

“Nami, WHAT,” Law shouted, then scrambled to hide when Kidd responded.

“Nami says she needs Band-Aids! I dunno what for, but...”

“There's some on top of the fridge! Go get those!”

“What? No there's not.” The doorknob rattled again.

“Yes there is! Fuck off, I'm fucking half dressed!” Law called from behind the shower curtain.

“Oh, I don't mind—”

“I do!! Just go look on the fridge and let me dress!”

“...taking all fucking day in there…” Heavy footsteps went off the hall.

Law sat down wearily in the tub, letting out a deep breath. He rested for a minute, letting his eyes wander over the black spots drawn onto his jeans with sharpie. All his clothes ended up like that—he doodled the spots whenever he was bored in class or hanging out by himself. Just his thinking-patterns.

He shook off the thoughtful moment and reached one hand out of the shower curtain to grab his t-shirt and hoodie. He finished dressing in the shower.

“My turn yet?” Kidd grumbled when he finally reappeared.

“Oh, you do wash?”

“Haha. Go to hell.” He belched and grabbed the towel from Law.

---

Things were calm in their chaotic way throughout the rest of the morning. No more texts came from back home, and Law let that issue settle to the back of his mind. Nami seemed happy, though she started pointedly ignoring Kidd as soon as he made motions to leave for work. She focused instead on sticking band-aids to Law's shirt.

“The hell is she doing?” Kidd wondered. “Nami, the hell are you doing? Stop wasting those. I can only get the animal ones when the old blind lady's working the cash.”

“She saw my tattoos and decided they were boo-boos,” Law grumbled. He watched disapprovingly while Nami carefully patched up the sharpie spots on his jeans too.

“Ohhh, heh. You got tats?” Kidd looked him over quickly, but they were all covered up.

“Yeah, a couple in blackwork. They're kinda personal so I don't really show em off.”

“That's fuckin sweet, I wanna get some but they're so expensive. The piercings, I can at least do myself.”

Law shrugged. “Yeah, I got a friend with his own machine who does it for me.”

Kidd watched Nami, a little smile sneaking over his face. “Aw, that's actually pretty cute…” He took out his phone and held it up for a picture.

Law tensed. “Uh! I don't like pictures of me.”

“No? Kay I'll just get one of her then.” The phone made an obnoxious fake camera snap sound.

“...Great.” Law slouched in his chair with his head propped up on one fist.

“What you wanna eat later, any takeout requests?” Kidd asked.

“Whatever.”

“Chicken bucket?”

Law shrugged.

Kidd waited but just got more silence. He tried his sister. “Nami: chicken?”

That one was definitely ignoring him. Kidd gave up with an impatient growl and left for work, stomping his way outside with extra force.

“Ah fuck…” Law regretted his terseness as soon as the other had gone. Now he felt bad. “Nami, stop. Kidd said don't waste those.”

“Haha… yah.”

“Nami. I said stop.”

She startled at his harsh tone, and started to cry. Law sighed in frustration as she tried to climb up into his lap for comfort.

“Law, you hug me. I'm Nami and you hug me.”

“Law doesn't like hugs, Nami.”

She insisted, “Kidd is always hug me and give me a band-aid.”

“Kidd lets you have what you want too much,” Law observed.

But he picked her up to sit on his lap. She applied a final tiger band-aid to the middle of his chest, and he scoffed and massaged his temples.

“Nami, a locked door means don't go in. Okay?”

“Hmhmhn.” Now she was ignoring him and humming to herself. She picked up the pencil on the table and started adding her own designs to Law's stats assignment.

“Nami.” He took the sheet away and she looked at him in outrage.

“No!” she scolded him.

Law scolded her right back. “Hey! Listen! Closed door is no.”

“NO.”

“NO,” he said even louder. Great, now he was getting in a shouting contest with a toddler.

Nami wasn't having it, though. She slid down off his lap and went to go damn well do her own thing. A moment later, she came back and took the band-aid right off his chest before leaving again.

He shook his head in disbelief. “Damn, that's cold.”

---

Law brooded at the table for a while, staring past the little pile of photocopied practice sheets he was supposed to be working on and coloring his nails black with sharpie. A chair scraping the floor next to him brought him back to reality. Right… he was babysitting.

Nami climbed up on the chair and handed Law a little jar of something. Black nail polish.

“Heh. You think black nails are pretty, Nami?” Law smiled and accepted the peace offering.

“Yah.” She watched him shake the jar and inspect the contents. Her own nails were an even, glossy black—the product of Kidd's steady hand.

“I think it's nice too…” Law started on his left thumb, trying to match Kidd's technique.

“Our’s dad is say no, it's haggy.”

“Haggy?”

“Yah.”

“What's that?” Law could mostly decipher her toddler-speak, with all its fumbled f's and chubby-cheeked babble, but sometimes it took a minute.

She paused and thought. “Hm.”

“Haggy…” Law thought, and then got it. “Oh… fuck. Nami don't say that to anyone, that's bad.”

“Is bad?”

“Well… it's not bad to be, uh, that. But it's mean to say it to someone. It hurts.” He paused and looked at his hand, half-painted and definitely messy. He bit his lip and stubbornly went about doing the rest too. “Anyway, black nails aren't bad, they're babely. Especially on guys. Like your brother.”

Nami seemed satisfied. “And witches too and mermaids?”

“Definitely. Babely and not bad...”

She watched Law move onto his right hand, fumble it, and make a blob. “You do it bad.”

She dodged Law's attempt to give her an even bigger blob, and ran off screeching gleefully. Law gave up the task with a sigh and picked up his phone instead.

---

You: cheese fries.

Kidd: cheese fries??

You: cheese fries

You: or whatever you want

You: its your money

Kidd: cheese fries!!!!! !!; ✓✓✓

---

Kidd got back earlier this time. Law looked out the window, surprised to see it was still daylight, but a little relieved. Nami had been an on-and-off terror again that day. The little hellion signaled her joy at Kidd's early return by running up to him and screeching like a banshee.

“That’s a great new noise,” Kidd winced.

Law wasn't listening. He was looking at the message that had just popped up on his phone.

Bellamy: dad asking where u is……..

You: just tell him I took off early this morning

You: friend's place

You: back really soon

Bellamy didn't reply and Law swallowed a surge of panic. “I think I gotta go,” he mumbled.

“Cheese fries,” Kidd countered, holding up a brown paper bag.

“My dad’s home, and he'll want me to check in…”

“Cheese fries and I drive ya.” Kidd kicked off his boots and headed for the kitchen.

Law fiddled with his phone for a moment, but there were no more messages, and he'd asked for cheese fries, and hey, what was another few minutes anyway. He sat at the table with the two unruly redheads, both talking with their mouths full and shoveling down the fries without pausing to swallow. Kidd cracked a beer but took it slow, catching Law's glance. Nami quickly stuffed herself and fell asleep under the table with a blanket. They let her be while they ate.

“It’s the municipality's depot shop, so yeah, crooked as hell, but good-crooked, hahaha,” Kidd was explaining his new job around a cheesy mouthful.

“Oh? What kind of corruption is the good one again?” Law stirred his own fries into a mushy mass.

“Kind that pays cash and don't ask about certifications.”

“Oh, heh…”

Kidd shrugged. “Yeah. Little lax on the health and safety, but least it's not the Pit.”

“Yeah.” Law replied vaguely.

His strange host finished his greasy gravy-and-cheese mess and leaned back in his chair, stretching as much as he could in the small space. The black nails and metal-studded lips were such a weird contrast to the prissiness of the room—dusty lace valances and bonneted geese painted on the tile backsplash. The long-limbed boy just seemed so ill-fitted here; almost crammed in.

“So you got yourself a mess there, eh.” Kidd started, delicately.

Law sighed. “Yeah, well it's not really a ‘mess’. I'm probably overreacting. My Dad's just a little nuts about rules and family responsibilities… of which I seem to have the greater share…”

“Yeah, that's shitty.” Kidd chewed thoughtfully on a toothpick. “I wasn't tryna pry.”

“It's cool.”

“I meant your mani, though,” Kidd gestured with the toothpick at Law's left-handed paint job.

“Oh! Yeah that? Mess.” Law gave an embarrassed laugh. His left hand was okay, but his right was just a blobby attempt at two fingers.

“Want me to…?”

“Uh. Yeah. Maybe. Just if you want to,” Law laughed again, a little too loud.

“Yeah definitely. There's remover in the bathroom,” Kidd suggested.

Law went and cleaned off the smeared black on his right hand and returned. Kidd shuff-shuffed his chair over to Law's and shook the little vial of polish.

“Okay, gimme your uh…” Kidd noticed Law's flinch as he went to grab his hand. “Or actually, just put your hand on the table, here?”

Law placed his hand in the table, fingers spread, and Kidd went about his art. He somehow did each finger with only two strokes, leaning in close to execute the little flicks with peak precision. He laid his head right on the table, pillowed on an arm, to complete the thumb from up close. Law watched him frown in concentration.

“Nice. Don't move for ten minutes.” Kidd grinned when he'd finished. He blew lightly on Law's fingers with a pwfff to dry them.

Law put his head on his arm too, settling in across from Kidd. “Thanks.”

“Pfffwww.”

“Pffffffw,” Law puffed back at him.

“Haha, weird,” Kidd admitted.

“Mhm…”

Law drummed his painted fingers and didn't say anything for a couple minutes. Kidd let the silence stretch on, watching him as they both rested their heads on the table.

“...You worried about going back, huh.”

Law lifted his eyes to meet the other's, but then looked down again. They were too direct, felt like lasers.

“Doesn't matter. I’m needed back home,” he mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Or ‘required,’ I guess.”

“Hm,” Kidd mused.

“We don't got a mom, so.”

“She gone, or?”

Law shuffled and scoffed. “Well she was never my mom. She divorced my dad before I was ever adopted, and left their two sons with him. Went off somewhere. She comes back sometimes but she's like, a rich brat. I think she's actually very minor royalty in one of the shittier parts of Europe?”

“Heh, screw her then.”

“Definitely. So anyway, someone needs to make sure shit is in order. And watch my brothers,” Law explained.

“They're grown up, though, right?”

“Well, Dellinger's thirteen… and a little special… But actually, yeah, he's fine by himself. Way more than Bellamy was at that age.”

“Well, so you can just keep staying here!” Kidd decided.

Law laughed and rolled his eyes. “I can't just stay.”

“Yeah you can.” Kidd countered, honestly, and Law didn't really know what to say. Kidd pressed on, “Why not?”

“Don't think people around here like me much.”

“You think they like me here?” Kidd snorted. “They don't matter anyway. Nami likes you, and she never likes anyone.”

Law smiled to himself, thinking of the animal band-aids. “She's a good kid.”

“Just around you.”

Law withdrew back into silence, though he didn't make any move to get up, or to shake off the way their fingertips were lacing together loosely. He kept his head on the table and chewed his lip, looking at their matching fingernails instead of at Kidd.

“I kinda do too.”

“I... probably gotta go, for real,” Law responded after a flustered moment.

Kidd sat up with a casual shrug. “Yeah. I'll take you on the bike.”

“But, yeah, um… Maybe I could just come by sometimes, like after class, and, study here or just hang? Would that be cool?”

“Yeah!” Kidd's grin was so fierce and genuine it was impossible not to grin back.

---

They took off on the bike past all the tar-paper houses. Their windows were lighting up as the sky dimmed into grey dusk. Here and there firepits and packs of noisy kids sent up flurries of light and activity.

“The carpool again,” Law yelled to Kidd as they drove.

“Not all the way home?”

“Not unless you wanna run into my dad…”

“I don't mind,” Kidd shrugged.

“I mind.”

Kidd pulled into the carpool, stopping under the orange glow of the streetlight just as it flicked on. Law pulled off the helmet and dismounted with a little flutter in his stomach.

“So uh. Tomorrow?” Law leaned a casual hand on the bike handlebars, trying to be all smooth as fuck.

“Yeah…” Kidd watched him with a little smile.

Law leaned in, an answering smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. He didn't rush it—it was kinda nice to be the one looking down at Kidd for once.

But then something pinged the back of Law's awareness: A sound that sent all his internal alarms off. A car he knew… and not the old Volvo.

“Shit…” he looked up and down the highway.

“What, something up?” Kidd looked around too.

“Uh.” Law listened another frozen second, and then took off in a flat run for the trees.

“Okay cool see ya,” Kidd called to his back.

“Yup!”

---

Kidd sat on his bike and kicked his heels into the gravel for a moment after Law had taken off.

“Whatever,” he decided. Weird guy could go be weird or whatever. Not like Kidd cared. He fit the helmet onto his head and the lingering scent of hair oil and cloves struck him, close and unexpected…

Kidd felt his face and neck heat up again.

“...fuck,” he grumbled. He crossed his arms and looked around, staying hidden in his helmet and waiting for the stupid whatever feeling thing to pass. It didn't. “Fuck!” he told the streetlight.

He revved the bike and tore away onto the highway, weaving around the recent-model Caddy that was making its stately way past. It honked sternly.

“Fuck off, hippie!” Kidd yelled at it as he speed away.

#KidLaw #kidlaw fic #pit-town strays #trafalgar law #eustass kid #one piece modern au #fuck off hippies this is feelstown

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burntpastel · 6 years

Text

for the best

(on AO3)

Summary: Aizawa is distracted by thoughts of Midoriya during work, and decides he needs to make his fantasies a reality so he can focus again.

Or, Midoriya interns with Aizawa.

Notes: anon requested "Aizawa actually having feelings for Izuku but rather then try and get Izuku to have feelings back he just forces the relationship onto him."

i feel like i didn't focus on the part that was actually requested much but to be fair i dont actually take writing requests. this prompt was just. relevant to my interests. hope it's satisfactory!!

tw general creepiness. obsession, yandere-ish behavior, forced relationships, age difference

He thought it was simple pride at first, the way his eyes linger on Midoriya during class and his heart swells at the sight of him. He had started so far behind, but time and time again he’s smashed through Aizawa’s expectations, as is expected of a U.A. student. He finds himself paying particularly close attention to his writing while grading his schoolwork, noticing the rushed handwriting of his as his hand tries to keep up with his mind, the words he chooses and how he phrases things, though stilted due to the academic nature of it. He wonders how he writes when not bound by so many rules, how different it is from his school work.

He recalls the notebook Midoriya carries with him, the one he sees him scribble in frantically while observing his classmates or consults when observing a pro hero.

Aizawa realizes how much time he’s wasting while grading his work, and makes sure to grade it with an equal amount of attention as the rest. He’ll set it aside and observe it later. Except… why would he? He doesn’t need to study his writing so thoroughly, there’s nothing to gain from it. He puts it under the rest of the papers he’s graded.

He still picks it out later to continue staring at it. It becomes a habit of his to set aside some time to look over (admire) Midoriya's schoolwork and wonder about his notebook. He thinks about the notebook in class, especially while watching Midoriya write tests, the way his hand moves over the paper and his brows furrow slightly in concentration. He’s even occasionally dreamed about it while napping, and at that point he decides the whole thing is ridiculous, but he doesn’t know how to shake the thought, however illogical it may be. Eventually he decides he just needs to get his hands on the damn notebook and satiate his curiosity.

He could probably just ask for it, he’s seen Midoriya present pages to his friends before, even their own. He doesn’t seem shy about it at all, but Aizawa feels funny straight up asking him for it. What if he asks why? What could he say? That he’s obsessed with the kid’s handwriting, his mind? Is it even appropriate for a teacher to ask for a students personal belongings just because? He could try to find a reason to confiscate it from him, but the thought of pretending he’s in trouble just because he wants to read it leaves a bad taste it his mouth.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to do anything. He finds himself in the perfect position to take it from his backpack while Midoriya and the rest of the class are preoccupied and tucks it away. He manages to get through the rest of class patiently. Of course he does, because he’s an adult who can wait a little bit to do something he wants to. He forces himself to walk calmly to his office for all of thirty seconds before practically sprinting the rest of the way, only slowing while in the presence of others. He justifies it by telling himself that the sooner he reads it the sooner he can resume focusing on things that matter.

He opens it and begins reading through before he’s even settled into his chair. It’s a massive relief, he finds himself immediately absorbed into it. Midoriya’s writing here is even more frantic than his schoolwork. Aizawa likes knowing what words he chooses himself, which heroes he particularly admires. A smile tugs at Aizawa’s lips as he reads the little comments Midoriya has made, “So cool!!!” “Really impressive!” “Is that even possible?!” As always, Aizawa’s impressed by Midoriya’s analytical nature. He wonders about the drawings, if it’s just for the notebooks or if it’s a hobby of his, if he has a sketchbook somewhere. He’s definitely practiced a bit. He has noticed some tiny doodles on his schoolwork before.

He ignores the way his heart skips a beat when he finds his own page. He knew he had one, Midoriya has commented on Eraserhead’s fighting style before. He examines this page particularly closely, he can see the difference between the handwriting of the notes that were made before and after they met, things that were crossed out and updated with new information. He saves a picture of the page to his phone. As he flips to the next page, he finds the experience has soured, the fanboyish comments now grating on his nerves. He feels disinterested, he doesn’t want to see Midoriya gush about anyone else.

Not because he’s jealous, of course. He’s just tired of reading now, having flipped through plenty of pages already, it’s not surprising. He closes the notebook with an odd mixture of pride and frustration. He later returns the notebook to Midoriya, claiming that it had fallen out of his backpack. He feels… odd, interacting with him now. He wants to strike up a conversation, but there’s nothing to say.

He doesn’t stop getting distracted through class, mind filled with thoughts and questions about Midoriya. If anything, reading the notebook seems to have made it worse, he's antsy, wanting anything more related to him. Needing it. He wants to reach out and touch him, more than the rest of his students. He wants to ruffle his hair and pat his back and shoulders, wants to wrap his arms around him and hold him against his chest, rubbing his back as Midoriya breathes against his neck and his hands wander over his sides-- Fuck. He stops that daydream right there.

He thinks about Midoriya during his patrol, wondering what he does in the evenings, how he sleeps at night, if he’s the kind of person who cuddles in their sleep. Aizawa thinks he wouldn’t mind waking up to someone (Midoriya) curled up against his side. The thought leads him to imagine Midoriya in his bed, in his house... He wonders if Midoriya likes cats. As he struggles with villains, he thinks about how this will be Midoriya’s job one day. He dodges an attack and wonders if Midoriya would have been able to do the same, if he would have been so lucky. He trusts himself to properly prepare his students for this, but he can’t help but have paranoid thoughts, especially with internships coming up. Will the heroes his students go with be able to protect them? Will they disregard their lives, fall into habit and forget about them? Overestimate them, or underestimate their enemies?

He trusts that he can prepare them and wants to make sure they’re safe, it wouldn’t hurt to do some extra training with each of them, one on one, starting with Midoriya. It’s fine, he just wants to keep him safe, and it’s Midoriya’s choice as he adds his name to his offers. Surely Midoriya will pick him, it’s only logical to accept extra training from your teacher. He’ll make the right choice. He knows he will, but it wouldn’t hurt to strike some of the bigger names from the list. He is a child after all, he may get sidetracked by a flashy name and disregard more logical choices.

As he predicted, Midoriya chooses to do his internship with him. Aizawa sees the rest of his class off, and after saying goodbye to his friends Midoriya returns to his side with that bright look on his face.

“Ready?” Aizawa asks.

“Yes sir!” Midoriya chirps, and begins following him to the parking lot. “I was surprised when I saw your name on my list of offers.”

Aizawa hums. “You’re always getting into trouble, so I figured you could use the extra training.”

Midoriya ducks his head and laughs halfheartedly.

“Oh.” Aizawa stops and faces him. “You aren’t allergic to cats, are you?”

Midoriya’s face lights up and he shakes his head.

“No. Do you have cats, sensei?” he asks. Aizawa nods.

“A couple.”

Midoriya practically bounces in his seat during the drive to his house. Aizawa was already looking forward to getting to spend the time with him and share a space for a week, but Midoriya radiating glee is making Aizawa almost jittery with excitement.

“Oh! It’s not as empty as I was expecting…” Midoriya comments as he enters his home and looks around. His eyes are quickly drawn to the jingling black mass that rushes to greet them. Midoriya gasps and bends down to pet the cat, dropping his bags. Aizawa plops onto the couch as Midoriya familiarizes himself with all three of his cats, occasionally calling over his shoulder to ask about their names. Aizawa smiles to himself, enjoying the feeling of having Midoriya so close and spending time in his house. He imagines what it would be like if it was like this everyday, coming home from school along with Midoriya to their shared home. He quickly realizes how wrong that is and pretends to himself that he was just imagining the upcoming week.

Eventually, Midoriya stands, snapping him out of his thoughts, and asks, “So, what are we doing first?”

Right, the internship. He really wanted to sit here in and enjoy his company today, but he can’t think of a good excuse. It’s not even noon, so he can’t suggest getting something to eat, and he doubts Midoriya feels like napping until his patrol starts.

“Well, my patrol doesn’t start until tonight…” He rubs the back of his neck. “If you’re ready, we can train until lunch.”

Midoriya takes a determined stance and nods. Aizawa pushes himself off the couch and Midoriya tenses, lowering his stance. Aizawa blinks at him.

“...Not here,” he says, then motions towards the bathroom. “Go put on your gym uniform and meet me outside.”

He steps out the backdoor while Midoriya digs through his bag. He reaches for his goggles and puts them on, and when Midoriya steps out into the yard he tugs on his capture weapon, activating it.

“Huh? Out here?” Midoriya glances at the nearby houses.

“Yeah,” Aizawa responds. “I know some heroes don’t care about this, but learning to fight while minimizing property damage is important.”

He lowers his stance.

“Ready?”

Midoriya follows suit, determination glinting in his eyes.

“Yeah!”

Aizawa lets the remainder of his capture weapon unwrap from around his neck to wind around Midoriya’s legs, demolishing any hopes he had of getting in a final blow as he crashes to the ground, the entirety of his cloth tying him up nicely. Aizawa removes his goggles and approaches Midoriya’s writhing form on the ground to help release him. He doesn’t have to use his bindings this way, if he’d left some of it around his shoulders he could have made it drop from Midoriya’s body with no effort, but this way he gets to touch him. He sinks his fingers under the fabric encasing Midoriya, his knuckles pressing firmly against the boy before he tugs and unwraps it. Aizawa wishes Midoriya was wearing fewer clothes, the only place he gets to feel his skin is his arms. He tried to bind them particularly tightly each time he caught him, just so he could justify touching him there so long, subtly dragging his fingers across his skin while pretending to search for the edge of the next loosest wrapping. Maybe he can convince him to spar in his t-shirt and shorts next time. Aizawa grabs the cloth wrapped around his chest and pulls his hand back along with the bindings quickly, finally freeing Midoriya’s arms. He runs his fingers up Midoriya’s thigh as he reaches under the fabric there, and much to Aizawa’s disappointment Midoriya starts unwrapping his other leg by himself. He'll remember to untie his arms last next time. He offers Midoriya his hand and helps him to his feet.

“Alright, we’ve been at this awhile, should be about lunchtime now. You feeling hungry yet?” he asks. His fingers feel like they're tingling, he tries to keep his hands from twitching as he recalls how Midoriya's skin felt underneath them. Midoriya nods and hums affirmatively.

“I don’t have much here, so we should probably head out and grab something to eat before getting some groceries for the week.”

“Okay, but can I take a shower first?” Midoriya tugs his damp shirt away from his skin. “I don’t want to go eat like this.”

“Sure.”

As they walk inside Aizawa points to one door near the living room.

“There’s a bathroom over there, but as you probably noticed it doesn’t have a shower.” He gestures to his bedroom. “The only shower is in the one in my room.”

“Oh, okay.” Midoriya looks around, apparently only just noticing the lack of other rooms. “Am I sleeping on the couch then?”

Aizawa pauses. That’s what he’d imagined, but…

“No, the couch would be bad for your back. You need to be in good shape if we’re going to be patrolling,” he says. “You can sleep on my bed.”

Midoriya looks surprised and asks, “What about you?”

“It’s big enough for both of us.”

Midoriya practically jumps out of his skin, discomfort spreading across his features. It honestly stings a bit.

“Wh-what? You want to share it?”

Aizawa lets his irritation show.

“Yeah. What’s the matter?”

Midoriya blinks at him, then looks at the ground, searching for an explanation and finding none. He deflates.

“Ah-- nothing. Sorry, I was just surprised.”

Aizawa waves his hand at him, motioning him away.

“Go take your shower,” he says and settles at his desk to do paperwork in the meantime. As Midoriya disappears behind the bathroom door, Aizawa tries to keep his mind from wandering and imagining what he’s doing back there. He tries not to linger on the thought of Midoriya peeling damp clothes from his body and stepping under the refreshing water, or the thought of joining him. Instead, he just tries to enjoy the ambiance of the running shower, the sound of sharing his home with someone else.

After his shower they head to a nearby restaurant Aizawa frequently orders from but rarely visits.

“Get whatever you want,” he tells Midoriya. He offers to pay for his own meal but Aizawa refuses and pays for both himself. As they eat, Aizawa can’t help but ask Midoriya about himself, and Midoriya doesn’t seem to mind answering despite how personal some of his questions become. Midoriya asks him plenty of his own questions, and Aizawa opens up despite himself. They go to the grocery store after their meal and Aizawa lets Midoriya guide him around as he picks things off the shelves. Aizawa likes getting to know what he likes to eat, and though Midoriya starts off only going for small, quick things, Aizawa manages to convince him to shop for proper meals. He’s never been fond of cooking for himself, but the thought of cooking and sitting down to eat with Midoriya everyday… well, he certainly doesn’t mind it, if the way his heart flutters a bit is any indication. He feels warm and happy just thinking about it. He can bear cooking for a week, it’ll be a learning experience for both of them, it’ll be fun.

They spend a couple hours and hundred yen more than they expected at the store, but Aizawa still thinks it’ll be worth it. After hauling the groceries into the car, into the house, and into their respective places, Midoriya plops onto the couch with a sigh, conveying his fatigue.

“My patrol doesn’t start until this evening.” Aizawa gestures to the bedroom. “You should probably nap until then or you’ll be pretty miserable.”

“A-and you?” Midoriya asks, sitting up a little. Aizawa would like to nap as well, especially with Midoriya, but…

“I’ve got work to do. You have the bed to yourself,” he says. Midoriya relaxes at that and agrees.

Aizawa does paperwork while Midoriya naps on the bed behind him. Once he hears his breathing soften he occasionally turns to observe his sleeping form, but otherwise he’s finally able to focus on his work, there’s no need to wonder about him and what he’s doing when he’s right behind him. This was a good idea. The little guilty voice that’s been nagging him finally quiets down.

He can’t make himself relax while they’re on patrol. He knows he should try to hang back just a little and let Midoriya do some work, especially since they’re dealing with such small time villains tonight, but he can’t stop himself from jumping ahead and finishing fights as quickly as possible. He can’t know what they’re jumping into, Midoriya’s life could be ended before he even knows it. It’s honestly kind of a nightmare. Eventually, whether he means to or not, Midoriya takes matters into his own hands, he jumps into a scuffle without so much as warning him and practically gives Aizawa a heart attack. It’s already over by the time he manages to catch up with Midoriya’s Quirk enhance leaps, and he realizes he shouldn’t underestimate him. He’s able to relax just a bit afterwards.

He keeps his scolding to a minimum.

Midoriya sits on his bathroom counter as Aizawa patches him up. No major injuries, but there are plenty of cuts and bruises littered around his body. Midoriya’s exhausted, the nap he took not lasting him quite long enough. He leans into Aizawa’s palm that’s cupping his cheek while he attends to a cut on the other side. Aizawa breathes out a laugh, Midoriya had insisted he could do this by himself, but here he is, eyes slipping shut, shoulders slumped, ready to nod off in his hand just a few minutes later. Midoriya’s eyes blink open at the sound, looking up at him curiously, but he lets them fall shut again without asking. He winces as Aizawa presses the disinfectant to his cut and sucks in a breath. Aizawa strokes his thumb against his cheek soothingly as he reaches into the open kit beside him to grab a bandage. His hand slips from Midoriya’s face and he shifts to support his own weight as Aizawa presses the bandage to his cheek and smooths it over gently.

“Okay, all done,” he says, brushing away the hair falling into Midoriya’s face. Midoriya’s half lidded eyes move to Aizawa’s hands in sleepy consideration. The skin of his knuckles had split from the force of his punches and Midoriya had offered to wrap them up since Aizawa refused to let him tend to his own injuries.

“We have a whole week to practice bandaging,” Aizawa assures and nods towards the bed. “Go lay down.”

Midoriya slides himself off the counter.

“Thank you,” he mumbles. Aizawa watches him walk to the bed and climb under the covers carefully, mindful of his injuries, before tending to his own bloody knuckles. He mentally chides himself as he cleans and wraps them, he knows how to throw a punch without breaking the skin, but he was so focused on ending fights quickly that he used way more force than he needed to. He definitely isn’t setting a great example for Midoriya, he already has issues with impulsiveness and self control. Aizawa sighs. He’ll do better tomorrow.

He flicks the lights off and climbs into bed on the side opposite to Midoriya and stares at the back of his head while waiting for his breathing to soften, then inches a bit closer. He listens for any signs of stirring, and moves even closer, and closer, until he’s just a few inches behind the boy. His heart pounds in his chest. He doesn’t touch him yet, he moves his head forward until Midoriya’s curls tickle his nose and breathes in, filling his lungs with his scent, trying to commit it to memory. Without thinking he reaches out and brushes his fingers against Midoriya’s arm. He has no plan or explanation if he wakes up, but thankfully he doesn’t need one as Midoriya doesn’t react. He does it again, using a little more pressure, and when Midoriya still doesn’t wake he wraps his arm around him and presses his body up against his, burying his face into his mess of hair. He feels a deep satisfaction spread through him along with Midoriya’s body heat and falls asleep in bliss.

Midoriya literally leaps out of bed, and his arms, when he wakes up at noon, apologizing over and over again as though Aizawa wasn’t the one who crossed his side. Aizawa rolls onto his back and stretches.

“It’s fine kid, I don’t mind.”

He can’t remember the last time he slept so well. He wants to roll over and go back to sleep, but the cats come jingling into the room crying for food and he figures they might as well get the morning routine started. Aizawa throws the blanket off himself and sits up to face Midoriya, who’s staring at the ground with his hands clenched and face beet red. Aizawa rolls his eyes.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

Midoriya slowly relaxes while Aizawa cooks, busying himself by playing with the cats, and is mostly back to normal by the time he calls him to get his plate, he doesn’t seem to mind sitting on the couch and watching TV with him while they eat. Midoriya's presence next to him, being able to glance over and see him enjoying his food, food that he made for him, lightly chatting over the show their watching, it’s as warm and peaceful as Aizawa had imagined.

The following week goes by far too fast, but he feels incredible the whole time. He honestly thinks it’s the happiest he’s ever been, spending time with Midoriya and getting to know each other. The kid ends up having an easier time getting to know him than Hizashi or Nemuri ever have as well. Midoriya seems to feel good too, Aizawa will never forget the shock on his face when he actually genuinely laughed in front of him for the first time. He didn’t know he had it in him, but Aizawa quickly grows even fonder of Midoriya. However, it does come with the downside of making it really, really hard to keep his hands to himself, and Aizawa's starting to run out of reasons to.

Midoriya falls to the ground, tangled in Aizawa’s capture weapon once more. He maneuvers himself into a sitting position as Aizawa approaches to unwrap him, his face red from both exertion and embarrassment, contrasting the pale cloth wrapped around his head and over his mouth. As Aizawa pulls it away from his lips Midoriya huffs out an embarrassed laugh, looking away shyly. Looking at him in the dim evening light, Aizawa can’t help himself and leans forward to crash their lips together. Midoriya leans back, trying to break the kiss unsuccessfully, but the rational part of Aizawa complies with his wish and pulls away just slightly. Midoriya is staring at him wide eyed, and his desire wins over again, moving his hand to the back of Midoriya’s neck and pulling him into another kiss. He squeaks in protest, the sound tickling Aizawa’s lips as he saviors the heat and softness pressed against them. Midoriya tries to jerk away but Aizawa keeps him still, and when he tries to turn his head he moves both hands to his jaw to keep him in place until he’s satisfied.

He sighs as he pulls away, breathing over Midoriya’s face as he holds it in his palms. Midoriya looks horrified, and guilt and panic surge through him as he realizes what he’s done. Aizawa releases his face and grabs the capture weapon as he stands up, making it unravel all at once and return to his shoulders. He turns to walk back into the house.

“Go put on your costume, our patrol is about to start.”

Despite what happened, he hears Midoriya come inside and get ready a few minutes after Aizawa plants himself at his desk to drown himself in paperwork. He finds himself licking his lips over and over, and though worry pangs through his chest at what he’s already done, he regrets not daring to run his tongue over Midoriya’s lips directly.

Midoriya’s reactions are slow during patrol and Aizawa chides him for letting personal matters affect his work. He’s stiff and quiet during their lunch break and almost refused to eat just to avoid talking to him. Aizawa doesn’t know what to say, he knows he made the kid uncomfortable, and he certainly wouldn’t like being tied down and forced to kiss someone either, but all he can think about is how much he wants to do it again. He wants this all the time, Midoriya in his bed at night and in the morning, to eat with him, to hear him playing with his cats in the background while he works or naps, to have his lips against his any time he wants. He wants Midoriya so bad, and he can’t bring himself to apologize or say anything that might suggest he regrets it, so he says nothing.

When they get home Midoriya quietly ducks into the bathroom to change and patch himself up. Or maybe just hide, he stays in there much longer than Aizawa thinks he needs. He knocks on the door.

“Midoriya? Do you need help?”

“N-no.”

“Are you having trouble reaching that spot on your back?”

“...”

“Let me help.”

“...”

“Midoriya, you can’t leave it untreated.”

“...”

He starts to worry that he's going to hide in there all night, but just before it gets to the point of panic he hears the door unlock. Midoriya cracks it open.

“S-sorry... I was getting dressed,” he says, but the way he’s avoiding his gaze and practically hiding behind the door tells Aizawa otherwise. He pushes past Midoriya and has him turn his back. Lifting up the back of Midoriya’s shirt he finds a nasty scrape. It’s bloody, but not as bad as he had expected from the hit he took. He can tell how tense Midoriya is, he flinches and winces in the mirror as he cleans it but he never makes a sound, not even a hiss of pain escapes him. Aizawa finishes bandaging it and lowers his shirt, prompting Midoriya to quickly turn back around.

“Thank you,” he mutters, staring at the floor with fidgeting hands. He flinches a little as Aizawa reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“It’s what I’m here for.” Aizawa tries to smile in a reassuring way, but Midoriya doesn’t look up to see it.

“You tired yet?” Aizawa asks as they exit the bathroom and reenter the living room.

“Yeah…” Midoriya responds from behind him. “Can I sleep in here tonight?”

Aizawa turns to face him. “Why?”

“Just because…” he trails off, and squirms when he realizes Aizawa is waiting for a real explanation. He rubs his arms anxiously, shoulders up to his ears. He almost whispers, “...I’m not comfortable…?”

“You were fine with it before,” Aizawa states.

“Well--”

“Nothing’s changed,” he says. Midoriya eyes him curiously, clearly disagreeing.

“I always felt this way about you.”

Midoriya’s eyes drop back to the floor, and he flinches as Aizawa moves towards him to put a hand on his shoulder, nudging him towards the bedroom.

“Come on, this isn’t worth getting worked up over, it’s just one more night,” Aizawa reasons.

Midoriya silently follows him to the bed and climbs in, intending to lay close to the edge only to be pulled into Aizawa’s arms, where he lays stiffly and will for the rest of the night. Aizawa nuzzles him, burying his face into his hair as Midoriya turns his head away pointedly.

“...Isn’t this… kind of weird?” Midoriya asks quietly.

“What?”

“I mean… you’re a lot older than me, and you’re my teacher…”

“I don’t see why that makes it weird,” Aizawa responds. Midoriya doesn’t, so he continues, “None of that means I can’t care about you or want you in my life.”

“So… you like me, sensei?” he asks, turning his head even further away from him, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Of course I do.”

“I mean… like, like-like me?” he clarifies. Aizawa snorts at the childish phrase, though a tiny voice in the back of his mind reminds him that it’s childish because he is a child.

“Yes, I like-like you very much.”

It’s silly, but his heart speeds up just a little as he confesses, he feels warmth spreading through his chest as he finally makes his feelings known. Midoriya is quiet for a bit, and Aizawa almost thinks that might be the end of their conversation.

“I…” Midoriya starts. “...I’m sorry, I don’t think I--”

Aizawa hushes him.

“But--”

“Shhh... Go to sleep, Midoriya. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Midoriya stays quiet after that.

They eat breakfast at the table this time, since Midoriya didn’t seem interested in following him to the couch today.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Aizawa asks as he brings his mug of coffee to his lips.

“Not really,” Midoriya responds bluntly, pushing food around on his plate.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Aizawa says. “I’ve been sleeping really well since you’ve been staying.”

Midoriya doesn’t respond. They eat in silence. Aizawa washes his own dishes when he’s done and hangs around the table until Midoriya finishes eating, sighing as he sets down his silverware.

“Sensei, I--”

“You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve been this happy,” he starts as he grabs Midoriya's dishes and turns to wash them in the sink, busying his hands. “Having you here… waking up next to you, eating with you, providing for you, planning and spending our days together… it’s really nice.”

He sets the dishes in the rack to dry and turns back to face Midoriya, who’s staring at him.

“I’m glad you wanted to do your internship with me,” he says and smiles softly, letting all the warmth he feels in his chest show on his face. Midoriya stops gaping at him and instead stares down at the table, guilt and discomfort tugging at his features.

“Anyway, sorry, I interrupted you. What were you saying?” Aizawa asks innocently. Midoriya ducks his head a bit, fists clenching where they rest on the table.

“I-- Nothing. I was just gonna say thank you for breakfast,” he mumbles. Aizawa walks to his side and slips his palm under his jaw, tilting his head up as he bends down to kiss his cheek.

“Of course,” he says and presses his forehead to Midoriya’s, enjoying the closeness momentarily, before pulling away. “Alright, you better start getting ready for school.”

Midoriya nods and slides out of his chair to do so, a faint blush visible on his cheeks even as he sulks.

“Thank you for having me,” Midoriya says as he unbuckles his seat belt, Aizawa having driven him around to the student entrance.

“Come visit anytime,” Aizawa says, though he knows he never will unless Aizawa drags him there.

He gets through the day just fine, teaching as normal, not getting distracted by the sight of Midoriya, able to focus as he grades in his office. It’s when he gets home that his need for Midoriya hits him. It’s so, so empty and dark without Midoriya there to brighten it up, even his cats don’t help. He stares at his bed, and despite the fatigue weighing on his body he can’t imagine lying in it without him. He tries to distract himself from the ache in his chest by drowning himself in paperwork until his patrol.

He’s always preferred working alone, and he doesn’t miss the anxiety that came with patrolling with Midoriya, but now even that’s a lonely reminder to him. He finds himself constantly looking over his shoulder expecting to see Midoriya’s adorable face there, and then remembering that he’s not here.

He knows he can’t let things go back to normal. He can’t let Midoriya go.

After his patrol ends he enters the dormitories and makes his way up to Midoriya’s room. U.A. had trusted him with the keys to all the kids’ rooms, and he unlocks and enters his room silently. He quietly shuts and relocks the door behind him. Midoriya looks much more peaceful here than he did sleeping in Aizawa’s bed. That doesn’t stop him from lifting the covers and squeezing onto the too small bed behind him. Midoriya shouts as he’s woken, understandably startled by his intruder.

“Shh, it’s just me,” Aizawa assures.

“S-sensei--”

“Go back to sleep, Midoriya. It’s alright.”

He’s finally, finally able to focus again, thoughts of Midoriya no longer flooding his mind during school or grading or patrol knowing that eventually, in those few hours after his patrol ends and before school begins, he’ll be able to hold Midoriya in his arms. He starts making more time for himself, too, to make time for Midoriya. Though most of that time is spent napping on his bed while he does homework, he does sometimes convince him to go out on little dates with him, or sometimes just pulls him into bed to cuddle while Midoriya trembles.

Even if it makes Midoriya uncomfortable, Aizawa's work is important and being able to focus on it is important. This is for the best.

#aideku #aizawadeku #my writing #age difference #uh #a little later than id intended sorry abt that lol #bnha #this isnt smutty or not sfw at all but i figure yall might want to see it anyway #long post #for the mobile users #bc read mores are a mystery on there

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acadieum · 6 years

Note

Do you have any tips or advice for someone looking into digital art?

Mmm, I dunno if you’re asking as in software, products (tablets), or the process of actually doing art but? I’ll give you a couple tips for all of them, but if you want tips on something specific, feel free to ask!

Also, this is kind of just my input on it? So don’t feel like everything I’m saying is an absolute MUST, y’know? It’s just suggestions and whatnot. But anyways, I’ll put it under the cut since it’s a bit long!

For software, I’d try out the free programs first. That way, you’re not paying for a program you don’t like when there might be better programs for you out there that are free to use. (Regardless if you’re downloading a “copied” version or the original software, always make sure you’re downloading from a reliable source! Verify that the website is safe and check what it plans to install so you don’t get viruses!)

Over my art experience, I’ve tried multiple art programs, but Paint Tool Sai has always been the best one for me. A few other programs that I’ve tried are Fire Alpaca, Krita, Medibang, etc. and they’re all free and work fine! I’ve also tried Manga Studio, which is a paid software, and Photoshop, which I didn’t pay for, and they work great also! It has plenty of tools and extras on the program so it was definitely worth the money! Though, for drawing, I still heavily prefer Paint Tool Sai because of its setup! However, every artist is different and there are plenty of digital art programs free and available out there, so try ‘em out! See which one’s work best for you! Just make sure it’s safe.

For products/tablets, I would only suggest buying a tablet if you see yourself actually using it and frequently. If you’re uncertain how frequent you’d use it, I’d suggest buying a less expensive tablet. There are plenty of drawing tablets that are under 50 USD and they are perfect to use as starters. (If desired, you can buy better quality tablets in the future as you become more comfortable with drawing digitally. You know, like upgrading your setup, but I wouldn’t go super expensive right away.)

If you’re getting your first tablet, DO NOT go over 100 USD. This is just in case because you may end up not liking digital art and that’s totally fine! It’s not for everyone. Some people prefer traditional and that’s completely okay! But if that’s the case, it’s better to have spent 50 USD vs 100 USD on something you won’t use.

Regardless of which you choose, just make sure that the tablet you buy is compatible with the drawing software you desire to use! The description of the item should tell you if it’s compatible or not. If it’s not compatible, it will either not work on the program at all or just won’t have pressure sensitivity. (My first tablet wasn’t compatible with PTS so my pressure sensitivity never worked but I could still draw on it. Some people can still make great art without pressure sensitivity but I am not one of those people. orz)

If you see yourself using it often, I’d suggest getting a more reliable tablet - one that will last you a while. Just like drawing softwares, drawing tablets can vary in preference from artist to artist.

My first tablet was around 40 USD and while it was bigger, I occasionally had problems with it. Sometimes, it would have problems connecting, etc. I can’t speak for others, but the tablet I currently use is a Wacom Intuos Draw and I heavily prefer it to my first one. I think it was 80 USD when I bought it and it works super great! Though, it’s a bit on the smaller side, so if that’s not your thing, it’s probably not the product you’re looking for.

But, I’ve never had any problem with it so I’d highly recommend it! I personally don’t have a tablet size preference but I’ve had it for a couple of years, and thanks to commissions, I’ve already paid back its cost multiple times over the duration that I’ve had it. So while a bit more expensive than other tablets, it was a great investment, esp if you plan on doing commissions!

For the art process, I don’t really have tips for this one because everyone does art differently? So here’s a few maybe not-so-obvious tips?

USE MULTIPLE LAYERS.

Designate linework and color layers! (Unless you’re a daredevil and wanna do it in one, go for it.)

ABUSE THE TOOLS OF DIGITAL ART.

Traditional art is great and all! But the difference between traditional and digital is immense. Take advantage of using clipped layers, preserving opacity, layer options, hue/saturation, etc. (If you don’t know what those are, hmu and I can explain.)

FREQUENTLY SAVE YOUR ART.

I don’t know how many times I’ve been working on a drawing and it’s just hours and hours of progress lost because I forgot to save. PLEASE remember to save your art.

TIP: Some programs have a setting where it automatically saves every set amount of minutes, so if it does have that setting, I highly encourage to use it.

IT’S OKAY TO TAKE A BREAK.

Sometimes, I have not-so-great art days and I get upset that nothing I draw comes out right. This especially happens when I come back after a huge art block.

Dealing with Art Block.

It’s okay if this happens. At this time, don’t overwork yourself and don’t focus on perfection. It’ll probably get you more stressed.

Just breathe and try doodling small things to get you back into the groove of things. Again, don’t strive for perfection. Just make little meme scribbles so that your hand can re-learn the movements and then along the way, you’ll hopefully get inspired and go back to making the beautiful art you had been before! But it takes time, so don’t rush anything!

REMEMBER TO STRETCH AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

I often draw for hours on end without getting up, stretching, or hydrating. As a result, I have many frequent health issues and wrist problems.

Please take care of yourself! Every now and then, remember to get up and do stretching exercises. Take a drink of water, breathe, walk around, etc. It really prevents the strain in future scenarios!

If you have any other questions, feel free to lmk! Hope this helps somewhat???

#adrien replies #th0t-topic

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freshsteel · 6 years

Text

You guys asked for this...

and by unpopular demand, we have some doodles from a forgotten time:

little thing i did on a postit a while ago, going from left to right we have: talba, kits (both belong to @slightlyofftomatosauce), Blitz, and Theron. It was meant to be angsty with Talba talking bc half the programs there dont really make it

here’s another Talba ( @slightlyofftomatosauce / @architectprogramtalba) meme, some warning tho there’s a lot of her bc i couldn’t stop drawing her

here’s some character design i did for my character Exton, however this is that one (kinda major) AU for Miraculous Ladybug that me and @just-ash-k have been thinking about for years, he’s the bat miraculous holder :)

this was my attempt in trying to design Theron’s light lines. on the bottom left there’s a small comic of theo and talba with reference to that one scene in thor ragnorok, right above it is theo stealing something lol

the top 2 are the finished design i had going for theo for Uprising era. the bottom right is me for an ask that someone did for a draw yourself thing and they chose tron. the lower left was Theo as a Blackguard bc, fun fact, that’s what he was before joining the Uprising (you can find more of his backstory on his blog @therontheprogram). don’t you love how inconsistent these are :)))))))), anyway

there’s a lot going on here lol. on the bottom is a comic (yet again) of Talba and Theo on a supposed stealth mission that went sideways lol. on the left we have a little sketch of blitz :) my baby, im sorry for not paying attention to you enough. above blitz we have another kinda full body theo as a blackguard, and to the right of that is a little doll sketch of Talba. and all the way at the top are even more theo doots lol.

top left: a UA student, of which now i believe to be my brain’s first thoughts of my OC Exton in a bnha AU. top right: Theo in a swimsuit as drawing practice, but also to kinda match @slightlyofftomatosauce‘s going to the beach drawings of Talba and Kits. bottom left: my attempt at blitz in a swimsuit for the same reason as the previous. bottom right: from a snap I saw on snapchat where this guy comes out of the ceiling to give his friend a soda, so naturally I had theo doing the same for talba :^)

top: little comic of no fear: one fear with talba bc she’s a ball of stress, the middle reads “Everyone You Know, Love, And Care For Being Slowly Picked Off By CLU’s Forces”. middle: short comic of talba that i’m kinda embarrassed about but there it is: she’s on the ground and exhausted when someone asks why she keeps dealing with her boys lol. bottom left: talba as the angry Marge Simpson meme. bottom right: just random doodles lol

top: short comic of theo doing a stupid thing (not jumping off of a burning recognizer or anything)

bottom: this is actually an AU i had going of rather than theo being derezzed at some point, he was rectified, here are some AU point written with the sketch:

caught by Dyson => after looking through theo’s disc, he found that he was once part of the Blackguard

rectified, but done similarly to what happened to Cutler

solo missions become when he updated CLU’s forces

a little something to add (that’s a little inconsistent with the sketch): after the fight with Dyson, he has a bit of a scar going down his face where his helmet breaks

lmao i did this in the middle of class on the back of my notes... anyway, on the far right is the general blackguard design, but for a while he wears it with white lightlines after joining the uprising. the middle is stealth, minimal purple lines but he still keeps stun/explosives and a couple extra batons on his legs like the blackguard. the left is my attempt at a legacy era design lol, if he lived that long.

this is the last of the bigger sketches, more to follow but its just more memes

#long post #drawings #sketches #original post #sketchbook pics #theron #talba #blitz #kits #comics #friend mention #tron #tron legacy #Tron Uprising #tron oc

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years

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WHY I'M SMARTER THAN DEPARTMENT

The math paper is hard to predict. A popular programming language should be both clean and dirty: cleanly designed, with a small chance of succeeding. But if we're going to do that with coworkers. I have to change what I was saying recently to a reporter that if I could only tell startups 10 things, this would explain why you have to compile and run separately.1 It was simply a fad. But as with wealth there may be habits of mind that will help, if you roll a zero for luck, the outcome is the product of skill, determination, and luck. This was another one lots of people were surprised by that. Languages, not Programs We should be clear that we are never likely to have accurate comparisons of the relative power of programming languages often degenerates into a religious war, because so many programmers identify as X programmers or Y programmers.2 99% of your code, but still keep them almost as insulated from users as they would be in a traditional research department. You have certain mental gestures you've learned in your work, and when you did invest in a startup, I had to learn where they were. In the years since, I've paid close attention to any evidence I could get on the question, from formal studies to anecdotes about individual projects.

In the earliest stages of a startup, you have to figure out for yourself what's good. I sometimes think that it would be misleading even to call them centers. Perhaps this was the sort of superficial quizzing best left to teenage girls. The leaders have a little more power than other members of the audience share things in common. But the founders contribute ideas. The empirical answer is: no. It was just that no one had really tried to solve the problem once and for all.3

This happens particularly in the interfaces between pieces of software written by two different people. I let the ideas take their course. And the thing we'd built, as far as I know, without precedent: Apple is popular at the low end and the high end, but not random: I found my doodles changed after I started studying painting.4 We advise startups to set both low, initially: spend practically nothing, and make sure you solve that. There used to be common.5 You tell them only 1 out of 100 successful startups has a trajectory like that, and c the groups of applicants you're comparing have roughly equal distribution of ability. In particular, you now have to deal with prefix notation: that it is not dense enough. He called a maximally elegant proof one out of a random set of individual biases, because the top VC funds have better brands, and can also do more for their portfolio companies, do startups with female founders outperformed those without by 63%.

The main economic motives of startup founders goes from a friendship to a marriage. Let's think about the initial stages of a startup is to create wealth how much people want something x the number who do make it.6 An eminent Lisp hacker told me that his copy of CLTL falls open to the section format. We all thought there was just something we weren't getting. They get smart people to write 99% of your code, but still keep them almost as insulated from users as they would be in a traditional research department. I mostly ignored this shadow. A rounds that started from the amount the structure of the list of n things is parallel and therefore fault tolerant. Hackers like to hack, and hacking means getting inside things and second guessing the original designer. A couple years ago a venture capitalist friend told me about a new startup he was involved with. There's no consensus yet in the general case.

Perl is as big as Java, or bigger, just on the strength of its own merits. You have to use the shift key much. Whereas acquirers are, as of this writing few startups spend too much. At Y Combinator we didn't worry about Microsoft as competition for the startups; by definition a high valuation unless you can somehow achieve what those in the business call a liquidity event, and the number one question people ask me. Though that means you'll get correspondingly less attention from them, it's good news in other respects. I claim hacking and painting are also related, in the final stage, you stop having them. You can't trust authorities. What do you wish there was?7 Before ITA who wrote the software inside Orbitz, the people working on airline fare searches probably thought it was just because most people were still subsistence farmers; he would have liked to. How advantageous it is to redefine the problem as a more interesting one.

A lot of what we could. This is sometimes referred to as runway, as in many fields, the hard part isn't solving problems, but deciding what problems to solve. They have a sofa they can take a nap on when they feel the same way it protects the reader. Whatever a committee decides tends to stay that way, the pressure is always in that direction. It probably extends to any kind of creative work. Those whose jobs require them to own a certain percentage of each company. You can sit down and consciously come up with startup ideas. So if you discard taste, you can not only close the round faster, but now we advise founders to vest so there will be an increasingly important feature of a good programming language is a medium of expression, you could say either was the cause. Which means they're inevitable. But I think there is a lot of time learning to recognize such ideas, and here's an experiment you can try to prove it: just try to sell one. It only lets you experience the defining characteristic of essay writing.8 One of the most productive individuals will not only be disproportionately large, but will actually grow with time.

That's why so many startups. I think that this metric is the most influential founder not just for me but for most people, would be if you could get a 30% better deal elsewhere?9 They can't hire smart people anymore, but they want a third of your company they want. Many founders do. For example, what if you made an open-source language effort like Perl or Python. Mostly because of the increasing number of early failures, the startup funding business is now in what could, at least in the hands of good programmers, very fluid. What they invest is their time and copy you instead of buying you. Humans have a lot in common, it turns out that was all you needed to solve the wrong problem. Of course it matters to do a good job.

So what's the minimum you need to.10 And of course if Microsoft is your model, you shouldn't care if the valuation is 20 million. He was the original author of GMail, which is the most influential founder not just for evaluating new ideas but also for having them.11 Hackers just want power. Bottom-up programming suggests another way to partition the company: have the smart people work as toolmakers. And those are the users you need to escape it. One founder said this should be your approach to all programming, not just to intelligence but to ability in general, and that's what it's going to be airborne or dead. Who is? It's often mistakenly believed that medieval universities were mostly seminaries. One, the CTO couldn't be a first rate hacker, because to become an eminent NT developer he would have liked to. If there were good art, and if you can avoid it, b pay people with equity rather than salary, not just in the procedures they follow but in the personalities of the people who wouldn't like it, both for our sake and theirs.

Notes

Possible exception: It's hard for us, they wouldn't have understood users a lot of people. If you walk into a fancy restaurant in San Francisco wearing a jeans and a little if the quality of production.

Geshke and Warnock only founded Adobe because Xerox ignored them. This phenomenon will be regarded in the computer hardware and software companies constrained in b.

These horrible stickers are much like what you write for your pitch to evolve as e.

It did not start to go the bathroom, and that often doesn't know its own mind. But you can't mess with the government and construction companies. Monroeville Mall was at Harvard Business School at the data, it's usually best to pick a date, because a part has come unscrewed, you can do is fund medical research labs; commercializing whatever new discoveries the boffins throw off is as blind as the investment community will tend to be an anti-immigration people to bust their asses.

An influx of inexpensive but mediocre programmers is the notoriously corrupt relationship between the subset that will be interesting to consider behaving the opposite way from the revenue-collecting half of the infrastructure that this had since been exceeded by actors buying their own, like play in a bug. It's like the increase in economic inequality start to be doomed. Keep heat low. The Harmless People and The CRM114 Discriminator.

They did turn out to be extra skeptical about Viaweb too. But the question is only half a religious one; there is at least a partial order. If someone speaks for the others to act against their own freedom. On the other people thought of them.

Which means one of the problem, but he doesn't remember which. Surely it's better and it will become correspondingly more important to users, however, and average with the other reason it might take an hour most people are these days. That would be a niche. If you want to figure this out.

I suspect five hundred would be. Believe it or not, greater accessibility.

Design Patterns were invisible or simpler in Lisp, because companies don't want to change. When you get bigger, your size helps you grow. Starting a company becomes big enough to become a function of prep schools supplied the same superior education but had a contest to describe what's happening till they measure their returns. But in most high schools.

Paul Graham. Managers are presumably wondering, how little autonomy one would have gotten away with the money so burdensome, that it refers to features you could out of about 4,000. This just seems to be significantly pickier. Cit.

Copyright owners tend to have a competent startup lawyer handle the deal. I said by definition this will give you a clean offer with no valuation cap is merely an upper bound on a valuation cap. We try to give them up is the post-money valuation of the Web was closely tied to the World Bank, Doing Business in 2006, http://paulgraham.

Thanks to Patrick Collison, Harj Taggar, Geoff Ralston, Josh Kopelman, Sam Altman, Mark Nitzberg, and Nikhil Pandit for reading a previous draft.

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