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burntoutdaydreamer · 7 months

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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

#writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writers block #novel writing #fiction writing #writer #writers of tumblr

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mo49ko · 3 months

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hi, firstly, i love your art so much!! fengqing make me so weak ;-; secondly, do you have any tips for lack of motivation/fear of failure? like that feeling when drawing seems scary because you’re not sure if it’s going to look the way you want it to or it’s hard to get yourself to produce something just because drawing is difficult?

hello!! thank you for your kind words 💖✨ fengqings will always be here for us!!

i think that if you are not motivated to draw, there's no point in forcing yourself just to produce something, because pressuring yourself will just make you stressed. i think you can get more motivation in many ways, but you should just give it time.

for me, even doing something unrelated to drawing can give me motivation/ideas to draw!! for example, if i go shopping and i see some cute outfits, or a nice cafe, or i went somewhere fun with my friends, it will make me want to draw my fav characters doing it too hehe🤭🤭 in any case, you dont have to feel bad about not drawing. not drawing for 6 months can seem long, but its nothing in comparison to all the years that you are alive 🫡🌟

for the avoiding failure part, you can consider that a drawing doesnt ever have to be finished. one secret about drawings is that you can fix them how many times you want and you can spend months on one drawing if you want !!

i think it's the best thing to accept that you will never nail a drawing in one try. if the arm looks wrong then it just looks wrong and you can just draw over it again. if the face looks bad then you can just erase it and redraw from scratch how many times you want. in my case, i will absolute have like 60 layers of sketch before i colour lol

me duplicating my layer and redrawing each part until i get it right (2)(2)(2)(2)(2)(2)(2)(2) etc. etc.

you can't fix a thing without putting something down on the canvas first so i say just draw it however. then you can see what looks bad and fix it one by one. just work towards making it look the way you want it to.

i often post a "finished" drawing, and then come back to it months later and redraw some parts and post it again. i just think it's nice to think that you can always decide that you can still work on it!! my drawing is a dear plant that i grew myself by watering it and giving it sunshine over the days. 🌿

for a concrete advice, i would say to look up references even for things that you think you know how to draw.

it gets soso more easy when you stop relying on your brain waves to hallucinate a picture onto the canvas. if you don't know how to draw a hand holding a phone, just google "hand holding a phone stock image" and then copy the position!!

i drew both of these in under 1 minute ↓

seeing the reference pic made it easier to identify where is mistaken, and helps you improve the drawing easily.

it doesn't have to look exactly the same as the ref, but it helps you visualize better.

ALSO!!!! i will never stop recommending "PureRef" to everyone!! (a software to paste all your reference images to have them on your screen while you draw) !! you can move around the little board window and no need for a second monitor 🌟✨

in any case, keeping yourself interested in a lot of things will also make it easier to find reference pictures (by searching more precisely) + have more ideas/inspirations to draw!!

in think overall you should just let let your interests take you where they will.

happy drawing !!! 🤭💖🌟

#moko replies #anonymous #one thign about me is that i have sketching disease bc when i took a design course they forced us to submit 30 sketches before we can start #and then you realize that your first inspiration that you thought was good is never actually good #i guess i want to say to just let go of every little sketch #some of them just exist to make the “bad drawing” exit your body before you can make a good one #wow i keep talking for hours HAPPY SOUTHERN GENERALS SATURDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i like talking about drawing with my friends on tumbleerrrrrr

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jinxthejubilee · 1 year

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Venus - We Need to Talk (Again)

Back here again, aren't we? I'm so sorry, but I just can't help myself.

Because I have just discovered that there were plans to reveal not just one, but TWO lost turtles in ROTTMNT, I will discuss the story potential both Venus and Slash could have, should this show ever come back. (Please Nickelodeon, do something right for once and give us this show back-) But I must finish Venus first, before moving on to Slash.

And for those of you who might ask about Jennika, I thought about making her own page to hold out hope that she could make it into the Rise universe, only to come to the tragic realization that it was highly unlikely that she could ever appear in the show, given that Venus and Slash are pretty infamous as characters, and that the creators said that there were 2 missing turtles and not 3. My apologies to all Jennika stans.

Anyway, I did talk about Venus already, yes, but after revisting her backstory from The Next Mutation, I've come to the conclusion that her debut story isn't all bad? Yeah, I can't believe I just said that either.

I'll give the Next Mutation writer's 15-year-old brains credit, the idea that Venus was adopted by someone else and learned ninjutsu/magic is a cool concept, if explored correctly.

Since it's been pretty well-established that Big Mama's assistant was likely going to be revealed as Venus, I have an idea as to how she got there.

Now I could be wrong, but I believe that Big Mama's assistant debuted in Season 2. Whether or not she was just hired or was hiding out until the time was right, who can say.

For those of you who don't know or simply wiped that show from your memory, Venus was raised by Master Chung I, a human martial artist who taught Venus everything he knew.

Chung I died after confronting the Dragon Lord and demanding that he release Splinter. And his last words to Venus were for her to travel to New York City.

Now if I were in charge, I would keep some similarities to this, but obviously take some creative liberties.

In my Rise version of event, Draxum's lab explodes, the boys and Splinter take off, and Venus and Slash are presumed by Draxum to have died.

Instead of Venus' father being a human, I would make him a yokai, who finds her somehow and takes her to the farthest end of the Mystic City.

This father-figure would parallel Splinter in a few ways:

He would simultaneously be responsible, yet neglectful at the same time. The guy would be very much a loner with a tragic past, so while he would take care of Venus physically, her emotionally needs are something he simply can't and would not handle.

He would never leave his home. Granted, it would be hard to do so, as he lives very, very far away from other yokai, but he just refuses to interact with anyone he doesn't have to. But not because he's lazy, it would likely be due to paranoia and his strict moral code to keep his whatever he's keeping secret, safe from everyone.

Less of a father, and more of a master. A total flip from Rise Splinter, who focused more on fatherhood than teaching his sons dangerous martial arts, this guy is "teacher first, father second."

I see him as a cat. Not sure why I went with that, but it was a cool idea I thought of while brainstorming. While Splinter is an overweight, yet agile rat, I imagine Chung I would be a skeletal, agile, and exhausted cat.

I even have a sketch I drew.

Honestly, just think of 2012 Master Splinter for a frame of reference on his personality. He's still wise and knowledgeable, but instead of kind and compassionate, he's grumpy, unwelcoming, and snappy.

Not the greatest upbringing for Venus: living in isolation and rarely going outside, only knowing and living with one person her entire life, training constantly every single day, and being told that her emotions should never interfere with her duty, but she knows that it's the best for her! Poor thing...

So how does this play into how Venus became Big Mama's assistant? Allow me to explain:

The whole reason why Venus' father isolated himself and Venus was because of an ancient prophecy. I haven't worked out all the logistics of the prophecy, but basically he needs to protect that sacred amulet he has around his neck, or the Dragon Lord will rise once more.

Unfortunately, shenanigans happen and the Dragon Lord is awakened, but not at full power. Though he has just enough to kill Chung I.

Heartbroken and determined to stop the Dragon Lord, Venus travels through the Mystic City for any information on another ancient weapon that could destroy the beast once and for all.

This leads to her meeting Big Mama and learning about the Battle Nexus tournaments.

Whether Venus likes Big Mama or not, I haven't decided, but she's honestly just using her to gain battle experience and knowledge on everything going on within the Mystic City and/or the surface.

Depending on when all of this happened, she might have become Big Mama's assistant at least several months to a year prior to the boys being introduced to her in Season 2.

I picture that the big reveal of Venus being their sister would play out a bit similarly to how I discussed previously. I loved looking through everyone's ideas about Venus, and I can say without a doubt, that the amount of fanfare behind ROTTMNT and Venus overall is worth Nickelodeon bringing back this show.

Note: Well! I hope you all enjoyed this! If you read till the end, thank you very much! Please tell me what you think of my ideas, that would be very much appreciated! Until next time with my comments, concerns, and ideas about Slash, have a great day everyone! Byeee! 💗

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freebooter4ever · 1 year

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Are the lines on your drawings stylistic choices or are they measurement/guiding lines? Either way, they are cool, but just wondered. I dont understand drawing at all, might as well be a magic spell to me. I was looking at the pencil (?) sketch of Malkin with the cheesecutter hat on.

i, uh, definitely did not google 'cheesecutter hat' until after i saved out these images. :/ sorry about that. if you'd like the other one broken down, i can do that too lol. my reading comprehension when im tired is kinda lazy i just saw 'cheese' and imediately thought 'omelette'. SO here's the 1) initial sketch, 2) 'clean' sketch, and 3) final lines for the omelette boy drawing instead:

also i have had a cumulative of about 9 ish hrs of sleep total for the past two days so keep that in mind for if this explanation makes no sense, its not my fault. :( anyway! the way i draw definitely has changed over the years but currently im really trying to focus on the line i "see" rather than the one that is actually "there". i've been applying this to my writing for years (story vs happening truth) and you know it never occurred to me that i could do it in my drawings too till like...a few years ago. in general these lines seem to form the planes of the subject. if you google 'stanford bunny' you can find an easy example of a 3D surface turned into triangles. I do this too - see things in relative triangle proportions, except i've been doing it long before i knew how computers worked. i cant begin to tell you how long d*sney and cartooning's obsession with round building blocks of anatomical structure fucked with my brain until i finally decided i could cast that teaching aside completely.

ANYWAY sorry off subject again. so we have these sketchy under lines, and usually as im trying to find the proportions and form of the subject these lines end up being where the light/shadow hits. here i saved out the 1) 'flat colors', 2) the 'light', and 3) the 'shadow' parts on their own (i lightened the background for the 'shadow' so its easier to see):

the light is like four or five 'overlay' layers of pale yellow/orange. you can see how each of these layers follow one of those sketchy lines i did initially. and the same with the shadow but instead its a dark red color set to 'multiply' for each layer. and when you combine everything together you get:

some bullshit :). anyway you know that anniversary edition of beauty and the beast that featured the version previewed to nyc audiences in 1990 with the glen ke*ne sketchy keyframe animation of the beast's transformation? i watched that - must have been sometime after i graduated college - and i felt robbed that THAT version was never presented as a final piece. the 'unclean' drawings had so much more life and movement and intensity to them. tldr i like the messy lines, i hate 'inking' with a passion (HATE. IT.), and when i finally allowed myself to stop giving a fuck drawing became way more interesting. but my art is shit and i will never be glen k*ane so i dont really feel like the best advocate for this "style". alas. there was this one artist on tumblr who i fucking loved whose sketches were SPECTACULAR but the asshole racists in the m*c*ha*nz*o fandom bullied her off tumblr and ive never been able to find her art anywhere else since. she was also very negative about her 'unclean' sketches and it made me so sad. there was also this other artist whose sketches were awe inspiring but all she drew was p*rn and well...we all know what happened on tumblr in december 2018.

also i 100% stole the lighting scheme from The Bear which is currently one of the most gorgeous shows on television right now in my opinion

im really really sorry if this makes no sense, if im feeling motivated maybe i'll try again when my brain is fully functioning but with the actual 'cheesecutter hat' doodle ^_^

#thank you #wip #where in the world did that hat get the name cheesecutter from????#i guess it does look vaguely cheese wedge like #theres such a fine line between different hat forms #like those 1920s styles especially i mean #for some reason i always thought that style was called the *directors* hat #and then the more round and floppy version walt wore in the 1920s was called either newsboy or cabby hat #i searched for a version of walt's hat for YEARS #and didnt end up finding one until i moved to los angeles and stepped into go*rin bros hat shop in old pas #which is actually the same company geno uses for his trucker hat i think #that hat shop sadly closed :( i dont know why #they just sell online now i guess

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shiningstarlight101 · 8 months

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I feel like everything I drew the past 2 month were pretty bad and I really had art block that didn't go away. But apparantly my drawing talent decided to randomly come back to me a few days ago when there were 10 minutes of class left and I was just sketching rbadom poses with a pen. Nothing but trash for 2 months and my brain decided to flip the art switch back on while I was drawing with a pen on a notebook 😭😭

#artist #art block #art struggles #why does my brain give me the ability to draw the second i take out a pen #what's so special about that 1 euro office pen that makes me actually good at drawing

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ultravioart · 1 year

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Self reflection with Art

Man, I keep wanting to draw Marvin in WoY style, Dominion Au stuff, Star Wars Ocs, maybe even some Ramattra art, but I get insecure about the quality of it. My whole plan to 'post art at the end of each month' backfired because: 1: Deadlines make my brain procrastinate due to past traumatic experiences with school/work deadlines when I fell extremely ill (yes I met 95% of the deadlines, but it left me with debilitating burnout that took years to recover from. Thanks dysautonomia, spoon debt is REAL). So this January with my new "post at the end of the month" plan, instead of drawing all the time like I usually do with no pressure to post, I procrastinated, and mostly drew within the last 3 days of the month because I felt pressured by my set deadline. This was not helpful lol, I'll try something different going forward. But within that procrastinating, it did allow me to take a long break from my PC set up, and explore different activities more. Like cooking, learning to crochet, self care (meal prep, research into foods, research into how to care for my hair texture), research in general on topics I find interesting, and deeper life discussions face to face with the people in my household. I think I will include more "days off" from my art set up so that I can dedicate full days to other activities going forward. Sometimes you have to take one day at a time with POTS (dysautonomia), and that's okay. Some days you can't draw, and that's okay too, no need to force it because you REALLY want to create art right then and there. 2: looking back on the art I did draw, I didn't post it at the end of the month because I felt it wasn't "quality" enough to post. It was quick sketching with shape use I didn't like enough, or line quality I didn't like. I have to remember that posting is better than not, and it doesn't matter if I think it sucks. So what? There's nothing to be ashamed of. Going through this internal discourse, it did suddenly remind me that I draw VERY fast, and what would take someone underdrawings + line art to look like a nice doodle, I genuinely just doodle something out in less than a minute that looks like a nice doodle. So, there is no need to beat myself up if my less than a minute art isn't perfect lol. Not every day I can physically draw, and that's okay. Those low days I can just create a prep of ref, or scribble stick figures so I at least remember what the comic was so I don't forget the idea.

#text #long text #working on being more mindful #working on unmasking too #unmasking has given me back SO MANY SPOONS #actually autistic #personal #POTS #dysautonomia

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sleepy-belphie · 4 years

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Hello! I don’t know if you’re doing headcannon requests but if you don’t mind could you do something along the lines of “the brothers find out mc likes to draw and drew the brothers”

Hi! I am doing hc requests so thank you for sending this in! It was actually really fun to write, I really hope you enjoy it <3 Got a little carried away with this one too lol

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

He’s doing room checks as usual

And you left your sketchpad/drawing tablet out on your desk

You catch sight of it a bit too late and can only watch as Lucifer moves from your dresser to your desk

He pauses as his eyes spot the sketchpad/tablet

He picks it up and looks at it before glancing at you

“May I?”

You nod and nervously watch him go through your work

His face is unreadable as he goes through drawing after drawing of him and his brothers

It feels like an eternity before he finishes

“Do you do commissions?”

It takes a moment for you to register what he’s said

“...what?”

“I’d like to commission you.”

If you do traditional art he asks for a 30x40 of him and his brothers

If you do digital art he asks for a colored, full-body piece of him and his brothers

He lets you decide how much you want to be paid

But he thinks it’s not enough so he pays you 55,000 Grimm

The 30x40 piece hangs in his study

The colored, full-body piece is printed, framed, and sitting on his desk

Mammon:

He bursts into your room one night when you’re finishing up a drawing of Satan and Asmo

You’re not fast enough to hide it from him

“Is that Satan and Asmo? Oi! Where’s my drawing!?”

Before you can show him anything else he’s speaking again

“N-not that I care! It’s hard to capture this perfection! I can see why you haven’t drawn me!”

He tries to act unbothered, but you can see past his tsundere ways

Once he’s done declaring how unbothered he is, you show him some pieces with him in it

He grabs the pad/tablet excitedly and snatches it from you to marvel over your work

“This is actually really good, ya know? I bet we could make some good Grimm off your little talent.”

You can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes

But you tell him that is not happening and take your pad/tablet back

He’s a bit mopey about it for a little but eventually lets it go when he sees you aren’t budging

When he does have a little bit of Grimm he does commission you for a small piece

The brothers’ eyes almost bulge out of their head when they hear that Mammon actually paid you for work

“What!? The Great Mammon can be nice sometimes! It doesn’t mean anything!”

It means a lot actually

But you’re a pro at reading between the lines with Mammon

Leviathan:

He’s on social media when he sees a drawing on his explore page that he’s absolutely in love with

The art style? Immaculate. He wanted to see so many of his favorite game and anime characters in this style

He imagines Ruri-chan in your art style and his brain just *internet dial-up noises* for about five minutes

He goes to the artist’s profile and starts scrolling through all their posted work

He pauses when he comes across a drawing that looked suspiciously like him in his demon form

The face was blacked out but the serpentine tail, the horns, the diamonds on the neck, the side zipped hoodie

It had to be him

In shock, he scrolls back to the top of the profile and checks out the bio and name of the artist

He is greeted by a very familiar face and name

He is in your room less than 2 minutes later

“You! Y-You did this!?”

You almost drop your pad/tablet thanks to his outburst and abrupt entrance

You look at the DDD that was shoved in your face and slowly nod

You thought he was gonna blow up at you for posting a drawing of him, even though his face wasn’t in it

You are very wrong

Levi becomes your #1 source of income

The moment you finish a piece, he is commissioning you again

You worry that he’s draining his bank account because he tips you very well

But he isn’t bothered at all by it

All of your pieces are on display in his room

He also posts all of your art on his social media and tags you

Your page explodes in popularity and the commissions are rolling in from his online friends

You had no idea otakus pay so well

Mammon is very jealous of the amount of Grimm you have piling up

Satan:

One day he asks you about your hobbies and you tell him you draw

“What do you draw?”

Cue internal conflict on if it’s weird to tell someone you’ve been drawing them and their brothers since you’re always around each other

He senses your hesitation and like the smart ass he is, he’s able to guess exactly why

“Would your hesitance be because of the subject of your art?”

He knows too much for his own good

You decide it’s best for him to see it instead of telling him

Being a fan of literary art, you were worried he may be overly critical of your fine art

He was not the type to sugarcoat anything

However, he simply smiles and hands your pad/tablet back

“You’re incredibly talented, MC.”

A few days later he asks you to tag along with him while he handles something

That ‘something’ is going to feed some stray cats he’s come across

“MC, I’d like to commission you. I’ve found homes for these cats but I want something to remember them by. Will you help me?”

How can you say no to a man holding four cats in his arms?

You take some photos for reference and make four different pieces for him

When you give them to Satan, you swear you’ve never seen a bigger smile on his face

He framed them all and keeps them on top of his bookshelves

Asmodeus:

He found out through Levi’s social media

He commissioned you for a piece of him and the protagonist of a game he recently started playing

This piques Asmo’s interest and he wonders if you’ve ever drawn him before

He approaches you when you’re in the kitchen grabbing a drink

“Hi, darling. I saw the piece you did for Levi and naturally if you’ve done one of him you’ve probably drawn my beauty as well, right?”

You decide to show him since he brought it up

He’s gushing over all of your art

No, seriously, he is praising you so much even the tip of your ears start burning from your blush

He commissions you to draw him in many different ways

Him in his bedroom, him in the bath, him as a mermaid, him as an exotic dancer

He comes to you with so many different ideas

He tests your limits but you actually like that

Beelzebub:

Beel is rather stoic, but he doesn’t mean to be

It was his resting face and smiling was usually reserved for eating yummy food

But you wanted to practice drawing him with different expressions

Beel’s welcoming manner gave you the courage to approach him and ask if you can take some pictures of him to use for a reference

He’s shocked you wanna draw him but agrees with the condition that he gets to see some of your other work

You show him different pieces of him and his brothers and he’s smiling the entire time

“These are all so good. I didn’t know you could draw.”

He commissions a piece of him and Belphegor and one of all seven brothers

But he also asks if he can watch you draw them

You both spend quite a few nights together

You drawing and him munching on snacks and feeding you some every once in a while

His presence is actually pretty calming so you ask him if he minds staying around while you work even after you finish his commission

Beel being Beel, agrees to keep you company

The night usually ends with him carrying you to bed

Sometimes, he takes you to his bed to cuddle

Belphegor:

Belphie was actually the first brother you drew

You came across him asleep in the attic once and he looked so perfect

Your fingers were itching to draw him, so you did

It became a routine for you to head to the attic and draw him while he slept

You always crept out before he woke up

You thought he had no idea of your little practice sessions

But one day you looked down to fix a mistake you made on his nose

When you looked back up you saw Belphie staring right at you

“You know, if you’re gonna draw me the least you can do is show me.”

You try to stammer out an apology as he sits up

“Oh, I don’t care. You don’t make noise or anything, I’m just very hyperaware of my surroundings. So I know when someone is in the same room as me when I sleep.”

He moves over to you and looks at your pad/tablet

“Hm, not bad MC. Show me your other work some time.”

Then he goes back to his sleeping spot, curls up, and falls back asleep

You sit there with your pencil/stylus in your hand, trying to wrap your head around what just happened

But he didn’t seem disturbed so you continue drawing

When he wakes up you show him more of your work featuring his brothers

He asks if he can have a quick sketch you did of him and Beel

You jokingly say he has to pay for it

He actually pays you for it

He puts it up in his room

It’s nice to see when you visit him and Beel

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me reader insert #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #Anonymous

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pterodactylterrace · 3 years

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Guys Like You Chapter 6

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 6

Chapter Summary: More of a filler chapter, not much Henry, I’m sorry.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, pregnancy, poor self image, bad coping mechanisms, low self esteem.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5}

"I already told you, Faye! I don't want anything to do with this!"

"So because I want to keep my babies, you're leaving me? Is that what you're trying to tell me, David?"

"Yes! Shit, I knew you were dumb, but seriously!"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf too, whore? How do you even know I'm the one that knocked you up? You've slept with just about every guy in town!"

"Get the fuck out."

"Don't come crying to me later! You're nothing without me! No one is ever going to want you. Especially once you have kids. Who the hell wants used goods? Have fun living a life of regret!"

Faye jerked awake, her head spinning as she tried to catch her bearings. Did David really leave her just like that? Sure he wasn't the greatest, but he had never lashed out like that before. At least not where anyone else could witness it.

No. David's gone. He has been gone for almost four years now. New life. Starting over. It's all in the past now.

Have to get the baby up before the sitter comes. Work is coming up soon. Life goes on.

"Briar, what are you doing on the floor?" Faye chuckled, crouching down next to her daughter, curled up on her pillow by her bed.

"I'm a puppy." Briar yawned in explanation, holding her arms up to be lifted, promptly licking her mother's cheek as soon as she was up.

"Briar, we talked about licking people."

"I'm not Briar, I'm puppy."

"Ok then, puppy, no licking people. Now what do you want for breakfast?"

"Puppy food."

"Cereal it is."

Feed the toddler, quick shower, get dressed, throw her hair up away from her face, wait for the baby sitter, hugs and kisses goodbye, then off to work. The usual routine she had settled herself into.

Feed the baby, because she's hungry and she comes first.

Shower, because she probably has some sort of mystery goo on her from the toddler.

Get dressed, avoid the mirror. No one wants to be reminded of how much they've changed. The softness she wasn't used to around her lower stomach, hips and thighs. Her breasts no longer as perky as they used to be. The stretchmarks competing with her tattoo's for attention.

Then, the hardest part of the day. "Ok, Briar, Mrs. Anderson is here. Mommy has to go to work. I love you."

"I love you too, Mommy." Briar responded, hugging her mother tight and kissing her cheek before she was sat back down.

"Have a nice day, Miss Warren."

"I hope she's not too much to handle."

"Never is."

Some days, Faye likes to pretend she's ok. Like she has a handle on things. Like she knows what she's doing and not just blindly stumbling through her life while trying to do right by her daughter.

Other days, she would absently push her sleeves up and her eye would catch on the black lines decorating her forearm, just below her elbow. Some days she's reminded that life is a bitch, and you can't always get what you want. On those days she tried to stay out of her own head, though that rarely worked.

She could slap on a smile with the best of them, but she could never force it to reach her eyes. Her face always remained an open book, free for anyone to read. The past creeps up on you. There's nothing you can do to stop it some days. On a bad day, the ghosts of the past will haunt your mind, echoing the worst days of your life into the void of your shattered heart.

"No one is ever going to want you!"

"You're nothing without me!"

"Who wants used goods?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Warren. There was nothing we could do."

Over and over on a seemingly never ending loop, reminding her of the darkest times in her life.

Why would anyone want her? She's not the same hot twenty six year old she used to be. She was soft. She was saggy. She would never be as attractive as she used to be. Anyone in their right mind would turn around and run once they realized how much she had let herself go.

Days like today were best spent keeping people at a distance. Tell them some story about being tired. Avoid anyone that is going to call her out on her obvious lie. Therein lies the problem with dying your hair obnoxious colors. Among a sea of blonde and brunette, powder blue tends to stick out and make it almost impossible to vanish.

Lie your way out of it. Survive another day. Tomorrow might not be better, but at least it won't be the same.

"Mommy, you're back!" The sweetest sound she could hear all day.

"I always come back, my little love." Faye assured, kissing her daughter's head.

Need to care for the baby. She comes first. She deserves the world. Play time. Dinner time. Bath time. Story time. Bed time. The same after work routine she had established months ago when she decided to drop everything and run.

Her daughter thought the world of her. She would do anything to see her smile. She would wear the stupid costume. She would pretend to be a horsey. She would let her daughter use her as a jungle gym. She would make the same dinner again for the third night in a row for her. So what if she soaked the bathroom floor during bath time? She was a mermaid, and she wanted to show off her tail. Story time, always an adventure with her imaginative little girl. What world would they find themselves in today? Dinosaurs? Princesses? Mythology? A rhyming book?

Ah, yes of course. Her current favorite, the book about the dinosaur cleaning his room. She was a girl obsessed with dinosaurs at the moment.

"Mommy, where's my Papa?" Briar asked, staring intently down at the page depicting a mother and father watching the dinosaur throw away paper scraps.

"Don't worry about him, sweetheart. He wasn't a nice man." Faye explained, resting her cheek on her daughter's head.

"Can I have a new Papa?"

"Maybe someday, sweetheart."

"Can Spider-man be my new Papa?"

"Why do you want Spider-man to be your new Papa?"

"He's my boyfriend!"

"That's not how it works, silly. If he's your boyfriend, he can't also be by boyfriend! Pick another hero!"

"Batman!"

"Well, he is rich." Faye mused, Briar giggling happily. "Now it's time for bed, my love."

"Ok, Mommy. I love you!"

"I love you too, Briar." Faye whispered, kissing her forehead. The nightlight was switched on and the door was left cracked open, just in case. Now for her seldom used free time.

Should she sketch some more? Finish that painting she started forever ago? Ever since she started a "real" job, her art had fallen by the wayside. She was too drained to do much after work and caring of her daughter.

Maybe some drawing will lift her spirits and keep the nightmares at bay tonight. But what to draw? Not in the mood for still life. Brain too fried for something straight from her imagination. Her usual model was sleeping, and her last few self portraits had been a serious blow to her ego. She just drew what she saw in the mirror. Then, when she was finished, she decided she should have worn more clothing before she drew herself. What was supposed to boost her confidence and empower her as a woman instead left her wondering when exactly she developed that roll when sitting in that position.

"Fuck it. I'm drawing a moose." Faye grumbled to herself, turning the page from her self portrait to a blank sheet. Half an hour later when she was trying to remember what a moose's antlers looked like, she finally picked up her phone. Seven unread messages? That seems like a lot. When was the last time she looked at her phone? Oh yeah, when she got home, five hours ago.

All from one person. So she wasn't ignoring everyone at least. Seven messages, all from Henry. Shit. That's not good.

Are you ok?

You seemed off on set today

You didn't even talk to me

Did you at least make it home alright?

Can you send me a sign of life?

I'm sorry if I upset you or something. Can you please talk to me? I'm genuinely worried.

Please?

Well, fuck. Here she was playing unicorn apocalypse with her daughter, and this poor guy was worrying himself to death.

Sorry, I was drawing a moose

Perfect way of saying "I wasn't ignoring you" while also avoiding his persistent questions about her wellbeing. The good old 'drawing a moose' excuse. Works every time.

I think your moose aged me by ten years. Are you ok?

Just had a bad day

Anything I can do to help?

Squeeze me until I stop struggling and my spine snaps

That's called 'murder' Miss Warren

I knew there was a name for it

Is there anything I can do for you that involves less prison?

Nah, if you're not going to take me out, then I'm not interested

I'm not going to take you out by murder. I will take you out on a date.

Faye froze, staring at her phone. He was just playing around, like he always did. No way he was serious. Henry liked to flirt, and she wasn't about to throw herself at him over a joke. She had more dignity than that. So how does she respond? She can't just ignore him, and taking forever to respond is going to give the impression that she was freaking out over what he said.

She was completely freaking out over what he had said, but he didn't need to know that. Was he just looking to get laid or something? Probably. He had gotten pretty close the last time he had been over. There's a difference between dating and screwing, though. He was probably just looking for someone to fuck while waiting for a woman worth his time to come along. Faye was broken out of her thoughts by her phone going off again, alerting her to a new message. Didn't he know she was busy having an existential crisis?

If you're free on Sunday you can come over and show me that moose your working on

*you're

Smart ass

Sunday?

I'll have to see if Mrs. Anderson can watch Briar

Bring her along. She keeps asking me about Kal

Pretty on brand for her

Sunday?

Sunday.

Sunday. What to wear on Sunday? He was probably looking for a little something something for his time, so something slutty? She got rid of all her slutty clothes after she had Briar in a fit of self hatred toward her new mom bod, so that was out. Besides, he wouldn't have invited Briar over too if he was looking to get laid.

So what does one wear on a casual 'date' these days? She had until Sunday to figure that out.

Tag List: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #guys like you #guys like you fic #triggering themes

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arhvste · 4 years

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KOZUME KENMA - WORK OF ART

request - could it be possible to get a kenma fic/scenario where his gf or girl crush is an artist and often draws him- probably hides it n testu or someone finds it and shows him so now they go on lip dates where kenma just plays his games and she draws him just like extra fluffy if you can I love kenma so much 🥺🥺🥺 if it’s too much then just something fluffy with ken ! thank you!

warnings - none

an - thank you for the request anon i just know kuroo the little shit would show his best friend all the drawings he finds 😈

classes were boring enough as it is but learning about the history or hiragana? what was the need?

sitting by the window seat, you had the obvious choice to stare outside the glass as class dragged along but you hardly found yourself looking outside at the window. instead, you would look and admire a classmate of yours.

kozume kenma.

he was one of the prettiest boys you’d ever seen. even his actions were so delicate and gentle to which would encourage the light butteries in your stomach to flutter a little more while you watched him. it wasn’t long before you found yourself sketching the bleached haired boy.

you were an avid artist with a beautiful talent. drawing kenma seemed a little out of your comfort zone at first. when you noticed you’d been sketching him for a few weeks you tried to consciously stop yourself, you didn’t want to feel like a creep who would just stare and draw someone. these sketches captured the boy’s calmness perfectly though and you found you couldn’t help yourself but continue, even deciding to add more detail into particular pieces you liked.

you told yourself that you were just using him as inspiration. you weren't infatuated with the boy, just inspired. no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself of this though, you found yourself enjoying drawing him more than anyone or anything else bringing you to the conclusion that yes, maybe you were perhaps a little smitten with him. not that you’d ever let him find out though.

your sketch book was littered with an assortment of drawings. some finished down to the smallest detailed and others half done, lazily sketched and yet to be completed. kenma took up most of the occupation of the pages though. surrounded by statues, flowers and other pretty things you often drew kenma as the centre piece for all your pages.

the drawings you skillfully created depended on your mood and kenma’s mood on the day. some days, kenma would be struggling to keep his concentration on the lesson going on in front of him, other days he’d be almost interested and looked as if he was putting more effort into his work. your most favourite days, were ones where kenma was lazily interested in the lesson. he would often propt is chin under his hand, eyes prettily fluttering occasionally while trying to stay awake (probably sleep deprived from excessive hours of gaming) and he would sometimes even use a thin black bobby pin to pin his long hair out of his face to stop his field of vision from closing in tempting him to fall into a slumber in the midst of class. those days were your favourite. he looked extra pretty.

today just happened to be one of those days as you gazed at kenma who at this moment had his hair messily pinned out of his face, eyes drooping every so often with the setters head dropping ever so slightly every time he felt the weight of sleep too heavy to handle. one hand placed under his chin, keeping his head from completely falling onto the desk and the other weakly holding his pen as he attempted to keep up with the classes notes.

you wanted to draw him in this moment really, but you did happen to feel bad for the blonde. he was obviously struggling to keep his head clear enough to focus so you decided now was a good opportunity to step out of your comfort zone a little.

“kozume-san? you whispered ever so gently.

kenma’s eyes widened slightly at the sound of his voice being called. he tilted his head in you direction and blinked his twinkly golden eyes at you

“hm?”

“d-do you want me to uh keep up with your notes for you?”

kenma’s eyes softened at the sound of your gentle voice.

“why would you want to do that l/n?”

“i can see you’re struggling to stay focused. we sit near the back and the teacher isn't interested in looking in our direction. you can catch up on a bit of sleep - o-only if you want though you don't have to!”

you knew you were blushing now. maybe you should’ve just minded your own business but in a split second you knew it was all worth it.

kenma gave you a small but genuine smile. fuck. it was so pretty. he was so pretty. his smile wasn’t blinding no, more of a gentle angelic glowing light that warms ones heart. the rare sort of golden light that can only be captured in a small time window each day and only through clear skies. you had made kozume kenma smile and you knew you were right to have stepped out your comfort zone.

“you’re observant. its much appreciated l/n, thank you. let me know how i can repay you after.”

his soft voice heavy with sleep sent the butteries in your stomach to go off in a frenzy. his delicate hands handed you his class book and he blushed so lightly it wasn't even noticeable at the subtle contact of your fingers brushing past each other.

he gave you a gentle nod as he laid his head down gently on his desk and gave into the strong craving to fall into a sleep.

drawing and writing were two things that came naturally to you. you were able at completing both tasks at a quick speed but you did it so flawlessly. you took a shy pride in your notes and classwork as you did with your drawings. both aesthetically pleasing to look at, but full of appropriate and useful content.

writing kenma’s notes alongside yours wouldn’t be a problem to you.

however, this would cause one in the unbeknownst future to you.

class ended about 50 minutes after you had encouraged kenma to have a small sleep. classmates were closing their notebooks and packing up their things. you gently tapped the sleeping setters shoulder with notes in your hand.

after a few taps the boy slowly lifted his head and gently rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. your heart melted at the sight of his eyes flickering while adjusting to the light. the slightly darkened sun depicting his eyes as gold speckled pools of honey, his nose scrunched up as he allowed his body to wake up. was there ever a time this boy was ugly? he seemed to be attractive doing everything, it wasn’t fair.

taking the book from your hands he nodded and gave you a shy smile.

“thank you, l/n. please tell me how i can repay you”

“oh! please don't worry about it! you looked like you needed a recharge i’m just happy you were able to do just that.”

“you’re a kind person l/n. but don’t hesitate to let me know if you ever need a favour.”

and with that, the setter packed up the few papers he had been resting on and then slightly bowing at you before heading out the door most likely to get ready for practice.

you smiled to yourself and headed out your classroom to leave for home knowing you had done a good deed for the day and you had happened to have your first direct interaction with the boy you’d been delicately sketching for the past couple of months.

“kenma! you’re 2 minutes and 38 seconds later than usual! we can't afford to have the brain of the team slacking.” kuroo teased his best friend with an irritating smile.

“was talking to a classmate. she helped keep me up with the class notes.” kenma spoke boredly as he set his bag down so he could change into his gym clothes.

“notes eh? offended you wouldn't just ask me for help. this feels like betrayal.”

kenma rolled his eyes at his friend’s childish behaviour and dug through his bag to look for his clothes.

“the offer was there so i just took it. besides, l/n’s handwriting is much more eligible than yours.”

“ouch. are they as detailed though?”

“probably even more.”

“i don’t believe you.”

“look for yourself.” kenma shrugged nodding towards his schoolbag.

kuroo wandered over to kenma’s bag and pulled the classwork book out.

“uh yeah i guess these are pretty ne- oHOHO what do we have here?”

kuroos eyes danced over the pages, a shit eating grin spreading across his face.

“i hate when you pull that face what’s wrong with you?” kenma’s disgusted face looked up at kuroo who looked like he was having an internal field day.

“l/n eh? i think someones got a little crush on you kenma.”

“what?”

kuroo turned the book around to show the pages to kenma who’s eye widened.

there was the pages you had littered with beautifully depicted drawings of kenma.

both boys were silent as kenma’s eyes scanned over the pages.

“no reaction? personally i’d be flattered if someone drew me that much and with such good detail too.”

kenma was still processing all the drawings as a million possible reasons for why you’d drawn him so much ran though his head.

did you think he was attractive?

was it a crush like kuroo had teased?

did you just need a reference and he just so happened to be there?

were the drawings actually him or were they just someone scarily similar?

“sooooo... you gonna talk to her then?”

kuroo smiled teasingly at the now blushing setter.

“i’ll just give this back to her. it’s obviously personal and she might even explain herself when she sees that i have her book.”

kuroo shrugged and put the book back in kenma’s bag.

“i think it’s cute kenma, take my advice, you should take the opportunity to get to know her a little, she's obviously interested in you.”

kenma snorted at his friends words slightly as he begun to follow him out the changing rooms and into the gym to join the rest of the team.

“ironic the relationship virgin is giving me advice.”

kuroo could only roll his eyes and laugh.

“to think you’d be the one to get a girl first, in my defence i’m too busy for relationships.”

“okay mr docosahexaenoic acid, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

you had just arrived home and you felt the weight of the day lift itself off of you as you threw your shoes off and dropped your bag to the floor in your bedroom.

you bag tipped over with some of the contents spilling out causing you to huff but get up and pick it up anyway.

then you saw it.

your heart dropped.

“fuck.”

‘kozume kenma’ was written on the front of one of your classwork books. how had you been so stupid in getting them mixed up.

you began to panic and think of solutions to this fresh dilemma.

“maybe i should just tell him that i just like him nows a chance? no that's stupid why would i do that? i’ll just tell him it’s a model that just looks similar to him. no, that’s not believable is it? fuck it. i’m moving country.”

you screamed into your pillow but then stopped when you remembered something.

kenma was in practice right now. there’s no way he could’ve opened the book and bothered checking the work right? why would he bother doing that?

you checked the time on your phone. 3:28pm. you still had a while until practice was over. that would be more than enough time to go into the changing rooms and swap the books before anyone notices. and even if he had opened the book already, when he saw his book was back in his bag, you could easily play it off as if he had dreamt the drawings up as he would’ve just woken up and still been drowsy.

you wasted no time grabbing your shoes and the book to sprint out the door. school wasn’t too far from your house, a 17 minute walk to be exact. your legs started to ache at the sudden intense action of you sprinting like your life depended on it. well, your life did depend on it. if kenma saw them and thought you were weird, what were you to do then? dropping out of school seemed like the most reasonable option.

finally reaching the gates you caught your breath. getting to school was a 17 minute walk but a 9 minute run. once you gathered your thoughts you quietly approached the gym to peek inside. there the team were training and focused on the court. going in through the front of the school and walking through the halls to get to the changing rooms through the back way, you gripped the book tightly as you got to the boys changing rooms.

a quiet prayer was muttered before entering. the changing room was surprisingly clean and didn't smell like over sprayed deodorant and excessive sweat like you’d imagined. you let out a sigh of relief as you scanned the room for kenma’s stuff before noticing it at the end of the room.

“just in and out.” you muttered under your breath as you walked swiftly over to the setter’s belongings

digging through kenma’s stuff proved to be quite stressful. you were so focused on not getting caught, you failed to noticed the door separating the gym and changing rooms open.

“uh l/n?”

you jumped and turned your head to the owner of the voice.

there stood a slight sweaty and tired looking kenma who had offered to return to the changing rooms to grab one of yaku’s extra kneepads.

“uhhh i can explain.. our books got um mixed up and i uh well -”

“you’re talented you know.” kenma gave you a small almost ghost smile.

your face instantly heated up at the small praise the boy had given you.

“w-what?”

“the drawings. i must say, i was surprised when i saw them but, you have talent y/n and... i don’t mind if you keep drawing me...”

kenma’s shy persona caused the last part to come out so quietly you almost didn't hear him.

“i’ll keep that in mind.” you smiled as you approached kenma to give him his book back.

he muttered a quiet thanks and went through his own bag to fish you out your book to give back to you. the tension was awkward but not heavy enough to drive either of you away instantly. both of you holding back in anticipation waiting for one of you to talk.

“so um, do you wanna maybe go out sometime? you don’t have to.”

your eyes softened again as you shyly nodded.

“i would like that kozume-san.”

“kenma. call me kenma.”

months had passed since then. you found you had things in common with the setter and found his neutral presence calming. he wasn’t too loud or in your face but he also wasn’t completely extroverted to the point where you’d sit in awkward silence like people often assumed he was like.

you had met his team and family and they all welcomed you with open arms eager to get to know the girl who had drawn kenma not only on paper but drawn him out of his comfort zone gently.

the two of you weren’t big on going out on dates. you would both often opt to stay in and enjoy each other’s company. kenma would game and you would draw, the two of you engaging in soft and relaxing conversation. kenma would never admit it out loud, but he loved the days where you would draw him. he would act like he was too immersed in his game to notice you sketching away but he felt a sense of pride in him whenever he noticed you using him as your model.

you had grown more confident in yourself and often allowed kenma to see your drawings. you decided since you were using him as your reference, the least you could do was show him how you portrayed him and every time he would compliment and praise you for your work.

“you know i’m glad i felt extra tired that one day you offered to do my notes.”

you hummed and looked up at your boyfriend.

“yeah? i’m just gad you weren’t weirded out by my book.”

kenma offered a gentle smile at you.

“weirded out? i was taken aback but not weirded out. i was ever so slightly flattered even. thank you for seeing some sort of beauty in me.”

brushing his hair out of his face you smiled softly as you leaned closer to his face to whisper your final words before pressing a delicate kiss to his lips.

“no, thank you for being a work of art.”

#kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma x you #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!

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nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

-Blue Book- (2)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: the boys are kind of assholes in this, as most immature high school boys are. mentions of alcohol.

The next day, Chan combed through the hallways of the school, but every time he caught a glimpse of you, you'd disappear in a second.

As the school day came to a close, Chan winced as he felt someone slap his back- he turned around to see Jisung grinning widely at him, throwing his arm around his shoulder.

"How's the little quest going?"

Chan shrugged his arm off, gritting his teeth. "Just perfect." He sighed, exhausted after the day he'd had. He couldn't be bothered to do any more searching. All he wanted to do was go home and take a nice bath, maybe watch some TV and fall asleep on the couch.

"I think I'll just go home."

"Um...you sure about that?" Jisung raised an eyebrow, as he stared past Chan.

"What are you looking a-" Chan frowned, turning and following Jisung's gaze.

What he saw made his blood boil. Miyoung was standing against her locker, pressed against it by none other than Lee fucking Minho himself. He leaned over her, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle loudly.

Chan clenched his fists as Minho looked up, staring right at him. He gave him a smirk, turning back to wink at Miyoung before making his way over to the two boys.

"I'm going to fucking kill you."

"Hey, we had a deal, didn't we? Let's see the book."

"Wow. You're so mature."

Jisung rolled his eyes. "Please don't start fighting here, I don't want to be caught in between this...this battle of the alphas." His eyes widened as he saw Seungmin, Felix and Jeongin across the hall, beckoning them over quickly. "Thank God, sane people."

As the three made their way over, Chan tried to quell the jealousy rising in him. He knew Minho had zero interest in Miyoung. It enraged him, knowing he was only doing this to irritate him.

"So, hyung? Did you ask the nerd out, yet?"

"Not yet." He said, sighing. He was so done with all of this.

Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you as you quickly walked to the exit.

"Fuck- guys, I'll be back."

Minho followed his gaze to you, chuckling. "Ah, wonderful. Go get her, tiger." He mocked.

"Tell us how it goes, okay, Chan?" Changbin spoke up, appearing out of nowhere along with Hyunjin. "Remember, Felix's basement at 8."

"Yeah, yeah." Chan pushed the boys aside as he made his way over to you quickly, walking as fast as he possibly could.

"Hey! Y/n!"

You stopped in your tracks as you heard his voice, slowly turning around.

"Oh...it's you..."

"Yeah it's me...listen, I was wondering if I could ask you something-"

"Umm..." you bounced from one foot to another. "I'm kind of in a hurry right now."

"Oh-"

"But it's fine! You can ask, just make it quick." You bit your lip.

"Um, well...I was wondering if you're free...maybe we could hang out?" He asked, faking slight nervousness.

Your cheeks heated up as your brain processed what he was saying. You couldn't believe this was happening. Looking past him, you noticed his group of friends, some of them not-so-subtly watching the two of you, others looking like they didn't give a single fuck.

"I...your friends look like they're waiting for you."

"My- what?" He turned around a little, sending a sharp frown their way. Turning back to you, he smiled. "It's okay, they're okay."

"Well...I was actually going to the park again, to sketch. The sun will set soon...Which is kind of why I was in a hurry." You said shyly.

Chan tilted his head, smiling. "Hm, mind if I tag along?"

"Uh yeah sure, okay..." you smiled as he grinned.

"Lead the way."

***

You sat on the same bench as yesterday, using colour pencils you had tucked into your saddlebag to recreate the beautiful sunset in front of you on paper.

The sky looked like a bruised mango, all oranges and pinks. It was really pretty. Chan watched in silence as you drew, occasionally looking up to observe the scene in front of you.

"I don't think I've ever sat down somewhere and watched the sun set." He mused, staring at your side profile.

"Well, there's a first time for everything..." you said softly, looking up briefly at him.

"Yeah...I agree." He said, leaning back against the back of the bench. "How long have you been drawing?" It was really hard pretending to be interested in you, but Chan reminded himself that it wasn't that painful of a task, especially if Miyoung was the reward.

"Ever since I was a little girl." You said, smiling as the lead of your pencil scratched against paper. "I consider it very therapeutic. I draw because...it captures a moment forever. You know, people blaze through life too quickly. They don't usually realize how precious something is until it's gone..."

Chan slowly tuned you out as a vision filled his brain. Him and Miyoung, having their first dance as prom king and prom queen...A stupid, lovesick smile adorned his face as he thought about how pretty she would look, how soft her waist would feel under his hand. Maybe if he was lucky enough, the night would end with her under him...

"...Anyway, that's how I feel. What do you think?"

Chan snapped back to attention, eyes fixed on you as you faced your paper.

"Um, yeah. I agree with everything you said." He nodded, trying to sound convincing. You looked up at him and gave him an incredibly sweet smile, catching him off guard for a second.

"That's nice to know. People...people don't usually agree with me. I mean, they barely listen in the first place. I guess I'm just not interesting enough." You shrugged.

Chan sighed, shifting a little closer hesitantly. God, he truly had no idea how to respond to something like that. So he said what he thought you would like to hear.

"You're very interesting, Y/n, and...I really like you. Don't say stuff like that about yourself. People are just too stupid to realize what they're missing." He said gently, his finger under your chin as he made you look up at him.

You felt your cheeks burn as you avoided eye contact, his words melting you. No one had ever said anything so kind to you.

"Look at me, princess." You obeyed him slowly, eyes travelling to his.

"You have such pretty eyes..." Not as pretty as Miyoung's, but they were alright.

You let out a soft giggle as you looked up at him. "Chan..."

"Yeah...?"

"Thank you." You said softly.

"For what?"

"Um...for being here, I guess. When you could be with anyone else, anywhere else." You said, sniffing a little. "Thanks for being the first person to show interest in me since I got here." You said, a slight edge of vulnerability to your otherwise even tone.

He almost felt bad.

***

"She's wrapped around my finger. Told you guys I could do it."

"Then where's the book?" Minho asked, an amused curl to his lips as he sipped on his beer.

"Well..I don't have it yet. But I will, soon. If she's already so whipped in a day, I'm sure she'll trust me enough in a few more."

Seungmin leaned back, setting down his book for a second. "What exactly makes you think she's so whipped for you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Chan rolled his eyes. "It's quite obvious." He sat up a little straighter as he continued talking, regaling them with the events of that afternoon. As Chan finished speaking, Felix spoke up.

"This is cruel." He pointed out.

"You're such a softie." Hyunjin muttered, snatching his can from Jeongin.

"It's called having a heart. Something which, apparently, none of you have."

"Look, if you hate us so much, no one's really forcing you to stay. Besides, if you care so much about her, maybe you should have spoken up before." Minho snapped.

"I actually kind of get where Felix is coming from..." Jeongin said softly.

The sounds of bickering quickly erupted as Chan tuned them out again, a skill which he seemed to be perfecting that day.

He thought about the sincerity in your eyes when you talked about...whatever you had been talking about. The slightest pang of an unfamiliar emotion struck his heart and he frowned, pushing it away.

He just had to stick through this for another few days, and then Miyoung would be all his.

He couldn't wait.

#chan series #chan fluff #chan angst #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #bang chan angst #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #chan smut #bang chan smut

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thecagedsong · 3 years

Text

Forgotten Light: Chatper 8: Boundaries

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 8: Boundaries

Ronodin hadn’t returned, and said that he wouldn’t until tonight. Kendra had another day to whittle away. She read more in her book on the Fair Folk over breakfast, then sat in front of her crafting materials again.

Kendra had no idea if her medallion even worked, but at least it dried nicely. The wooden texture came through the paint, but that made it look functional. Like, hey, this is a wooden medallion meant to weaken my enemies, not be a high school shop class project.

Did she take woodshop class? Did she ever go to high school? From Ronodin’s story, Kendra probably had tutors. Why did she feel like she knew more about the American public school system than she did about monster hunting? Or even tutoring schedules?

Trying to figure out her past by evaluating what bodies of knowledge she possessed and what she didn’t left her with a headache.

Kendra refocused on the fabrics in front of her. She did okay with the medallion, maybe her body had remembered something her brain didn’t. Hopefully that subconscious knowledge would help her do what she wanted to make next: create a jacket.

Ronodin assured her that the clothes in her wardrobe were all hers, taken and given to Ronodin from her own closet for exactly this time. Pieces her family didn’t approve of and wouldn’t know to find missing. But old Kendra’s clothes…left a bit more exposed than she liked. Aside from also being mostly black and red, and she was really growing tired of those colors, the dresses were low cut at the top, and high cut around the thighs.

She looked sexy in them, but with Ronodin continuing to ‘forget’ that she had only met him two days ago, sexy wasn’t the look she wanted to wear. She’d start with a simple cardigan, covering up her shoulders and back, then see what she could do about altering hemlines.

Looking over the fabrics, she wished she had pink. She thought she liked the color. Pink wasn’t among the fabric options. There was more red and black, and white, silver, dark blue, green, orange, and dark purple.

Because it would clash horribly with the red and the black, she selected the pumpkin orange fabric. If she was enough of an eyesore, maybe she could convince Ronodin that they needed to pop into a shopping mall for a real wardrobe. Something she was comfortable with now. The orange fabric was a wool/giant hair blend, dyed with pigment from the Fala plant, that produced its own distractor spell to convince people that it was dead until they forgot what they were looking for.

Sewing was a lot harder than she thought, especially without a sewing machine. Did she do this by hand the first time? The needle felt so awkward, her stitches were uneven, she was approximating the designs in the book, but some of them had her folding fabric before cutting? What did it mean by grain? She tried to incorporate ‘make me look hideous!’ magic intentions as she sewed, imaging Ronodin cringing away from her, refusing to look at her in it, but it was a little hard when most of her focus went to not pricking herself.

Still, she wasn’t a quitter. Kendra had to undo a seam, because apparently clothes were assembled inside out, but by referencing the book every few minutes, and working through hand cramps, she managed to at least make the pieces stick together.

It was early afternoon when Kendra finished her uneven hems. Some of the tools in the basket might have helped her, but her books didn’t reference any of them, so she left them alone.

Holding up the final product, Kendra giggled. She’d done everything on larger estimates, figuring that her goal was to be covered and folds in fabric were easier to have than one side not fitting, and cutting down was easier than adding. The result could generously be described as an orange tent. Kendra had to see herself in the monstrosity. She rushed to the bathroom, passing Mendigo in the hall, and positioned herself in front of the mirror.

She slung on the cardigan over the black lace dress, and cracked up.

“Hi Ronodin!” Kendra waved to the mirror with both hands, one sleeve reaching halfway up her palm the other so wide it fell back against her elbow at the motion. The ruby necklace looked like it was suffering, trying to hide from her attempts at sewing.

“Oh, er Kendra, I see you tried sewing,” Kendra mocked in the mirror with a low voice.

Kendra twirled, then did an impression of herself with a higher pitch than normal, “I did, do you like it? I love it! I put soo much effort into it! I love the pumpkin look, don’t you?”

She imagined Ronodin’s face, the horror, the strain not to insult his girlfriend, and burst out laughing. Kendra couldn’t wait to see his face for real. She would insist on wearing this until he took her to the mall.

Kendra stopped laughing and frowned at her reflection. That really didn’t seem right. Even if she had arranged all of this herself, why would she arrange a hideout she couldn’t ever leave? If old Kendra had wanted to live a free life with Ronodin, why didn’t she pick a hide away that let her go outside? Her family couldn’t be powerful enough to search the whole world. If she had been able to pick anywhere, a remote island seemed like a much better hiding place than where she was.

Maybe she and Ronodin had had a disagreement over how long she should stay underground. He might be capitalizing on her memory loss to keep her extra safe; it’s possible Kendra had never intended for herself to remain sealed away. That seemed like something Ronodin would do. Slip in a little lie amongst the truths to save himself battles.

Well, wherever they were, Kendra wanted out. Now that she wasn’t dressed for a cocktail party, she would find her way to a window at least. She went back to her room, and decided to arm herself with the bow she had brought with her through the barrel, even though she didn’t have any arrows. She hadn’t had anything else on her, so she slipped on her shoes and went to the door that Ronodin usually walked out of.

She turned the heavy knob, but the door wouldn’t budge. Jiggled it some more, but didn’t move. She searched everywhere for a key, but couldn’t find on. What kind of front door could be locked from the outside?

“Mendigo?” Kendra called, and her puppet came forward. “Open this door.”

Kendra stepped to the side as Mendigo started straining his wooden hands at the door. He turned back to her and shrugged, showing his wooden fingers. Duh, no way could he get the grip he needed that way.

Should she order him to break down the door? These rooms were rented to them by their mysterious ‘host’, who apparently had Ronodin working like a slave. He probably wouldn’t appreciate her busting his door down. She decided against it until things looked more dire.

The last hasty, destructive action she had ordered had almost killed her fiancé. She would demand a key from Ronodin when he got back before resorting to property damage.

“Thank you Mendigo,” Kendra said, “Let’s see what else there is in this place.” Putting her hand on the wall to the left of the door, Kendra started walking, never lifting it. She discovered three different storage closets: one for cleaning supplies, one empty, one for linens. Kitchen, Ronodin’s bedroom (extremely frugal, disappointingly empty) (he had a couple of robes Kendra considered using to augment her own wardrobe, but decided that would send the wrong message), Library, bathroom, craft room, Kendra’s room, Kendra’s bathroom, Kendra’s closet, sitting room/front room, and back to the main door.

That was it. The entirety of her existence, done up in blacks, reds, and gray stone and drenched in blue firelight. Some of the carpets had cream accents, but that was it.

Kendra knew what kind of front door locked from the outside.

She wandered back to her craft room and picked up a canvas to draw. This was about passing time. Next time she wouldn’t let Ronodin leave without her. Kendra just needed to stay sane until he got back. Even if practicing her magic with nicer emotions would create a less effective item, she wanted something nice to look at. Something peaceful. An outdoor scene, and she’d try to work peace into it. It was for herself anyway, and she’d do it in blue and green and white, and it would look beautiful.

Unfortunately, Kendra couldn’t visualize what ‘outside’ looked like. She knew the sky was blue, it had a sun, and grass was green and flowers came in all colors, but the pieces wouldn’t put themselves together. Kendra had never seen ‘outside’, she had nothing but rote facts. She put her pencil to canvas anyway, figuring that if she drew the pieces, it would all come together eventually.

Her hand refused to move. It had no direction on what to draw. Were horizons bumpy or straight? What color blue was the sky? What did sun look like on plant leaves?

Glaring, Kendra started sketching her craft table, in front of her, with the wall behind it turning into prison bars. She’d seen those in her mad-dash self-kidnapping.

Sketching came easier than sewing or carving. Maybe because more art principals were known by the public, the curse wasn’t able to remove them as personal memories. It was nice to have something come together, even if it was only a picture of her cell.

When she got to painting, she ignored the descriptions of materials and focused on colors. Easier than before, she took threads of magic, threads of the flame from the candle inside her, into her hand and turned them to her own emotions, mixing with the paint materials. She wanted people to look at the painting and know that she was trapped. She wanted them to know the suffocation, and the feeling of crafting little trinkets while sun and stars roved the heavens unseen. Not being able to draw the sun or the sky. Not knowing what those looked like. Not knowing what anything looked like outside of six people, a puppet, and her prison. It was a nice prison, possibly one of the nicest in the world.

Kendra painted black beyond the bars. Even gilded cages birthed insanity.

#Forgotten Light #Fablehaven #Dragonwatch #Kendra Sorenson #I...may have been dealing with the initial pandemic claustrophobia when I wrote this #I'm just being dramatic #I'm at it again like an addict with pen

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seokiloquy · 4 years

Text

Lost In- What Word? Pt 2 - Akaashi Keiji

AU: Single Parent

Requested

Word Count: 2.7k+

Disclaimer: Fem! Reader, Time skip spoilers, just fluff

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3

Another Saturday rolled around and the open field of the nearby park was close to empty. It was partially cloudy outside, letting the sun pour out periodically onto the grassy field. You kicked back, keeping a lackadaisical watch over your bags while trying not to fall asleep from the warm blanket that the sun gave you. The gentle heat that was settled into your stomach wrapped around your sides in a hug, it made it difficult to keep your eyes open and watch your son practice. It definitely didn’t help that in the moments when your eyes were open, your attention was mostly captured by the sturdy movements Akaashi made as he coached Naoko, and not Naoko himself.

This was one of those moments. Back facing you, the older man fell into a deep lunge, one leg stretching out further than the other. With his hands clasped together in an arrowhead shape and arms strengthened underneath his slim-fitting t-shirt, the ball fell right into the fleshy part of his forearm, bouncing high into the air with a satisfying smack. You quickly turned your gaze away toward the incoming dark clouds, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Nice spike, Naoko!” Akaashi encouraged.

You looked back to the rally that was taking place before you, smiling at Naoko’s large grin as he hit every ball with the near-perfect ability that had been developing over the past few weeks. Something hitting your cheek stopped you from spouting your own support for your boy. Looking up to the sky, your eye was assaulted by the same light sensation. Within seconds it began to pelt your skin harshly.

“Mama, it’s raining!” Naoko cheered, spinning with a large grin in his quickly soaking clothes.

You screeched at the feeling of cold water seep through your shirt to roll down your spine. Quickly, you grabbed the three bags off the ground, wrapping your arms as tightly around them as you could. From the corner of your eye, you could see Akaashi swipe a giggling Naoko off the lawn and point in the direction of the street. Naoko thrashed around happily in the older man’s arms.

The strong rain continued to stab into your skin as the three of you sprinted. Once at the dark-haired man’s car, he set Naoko down and began patting down at the non-existent pockets of his track shorts. “Keys,” he muttered repeatedly before spinning to pull his back out from your arms.

With the back door quickly swinging the door open, Akaashi lifted the young boy off the ground and pushed him into the back seats before helping you load the bags. The rain continued to pour down your back in small, cold waves. You shivered as the last bag was thrown in and the two of you began to round the sides of the car, hoping into the front seat.

Akaashi turned on the engine and cranked up the heat as you spun in your chair to try and dry off your son’s face, using your thumbs to wipe at his cheeks. “Keiji, do you have any— uh, clothes.. no, towels in here?” you asked.

He groaned, ruffling his hair to shake the water out. “Sadly no.”

A dissatisfied hum escaped you, as you spun back to face the front of the vehicle, listening to the rain as it bounced off the metal exterior. A roll of thunder echoed in the distance, soon followed by a flash of lighting. You sighed, “I guess we’re stuck here for a bit.”

Akaashi pulled the dar out of its lane, hand coming to rest behind your seat’s shoulder as he reversed. “I’ll drive you two home,” he said, smiling at Naoko as his eyes skimmed over the boy’s damp cheeks, “how are you doing bud, cold back there?”

Naoko hummed defiantly, shaking his head quickly, sending a few stray droplets of water Akaashi’s way. “Can we go play in the rain some more?”

You tried not to laugh.

Akaashi shook his head, finally pulling into the open lane, and faced the steering wheel. “Sorry kiddo, no can do.”

Akaashi felt a tingle tickle the back of his neck as he flipped through the storyboard sketches that Udai had prepared. The pages were messily put together and had misspelt notes covering the margins. Akaashi stared at a crude sketch of a newly introduced character on the page, trying not to laugh at the silly expression before flipping the sheet over.

"I think it looks good," he said, eyes skimming over the last page.

"Really? Not too bland? It is sort of a filler chapter," Udai yawned quietly as he splayed out on his chair as much as possible.

"I think you've included enough information that it isn't redundant."

"Wow. Thanks," the artist scoffed.

Early morning checks-ins, though required in the name of productivity, often left the undesirable feeling of doing a whole day's work in just under an hour. So when Akaashi stepped out of the small meeting space and saw that the sun was still high in the sky, he couldn't stop the audible groan that escaped him.

Chiyo laughed lightly, "long day?"

"The day's hardly started," Akaashi sighed, carding a hand through his hair, ruffling it at the back of his head. "I just want to sleep. I had a long weekend."

Ena gave the editor a smirk, "had fun with (Y/N) I presume."

"Oh shut up, Ena," Chiyo chuckled.

Akaashi slumped into his spinny chair, making it squeak at the fast movement and extra weight. Despite facing the other way, the light pouring through the window was incredibly bright, making him squint uncomfortably as he glared Ena's way. The other man gave him a conniving smirk.

"I wish that were the case. But not quite, I was dragged out by one of my friends to play volleyball yesterday. Apparently, their setter got bailed out and they needed a substitute. Everything's sore." Akaashi let out a pained groan, stretching his casual blazer covered arms above his head. He peaked a look over to your cubicle glancing at the unruly organization of sticky notes and pens that touched every surface except for your frames and monitor screen. "Where's (Y/N) anyway?"

"Naoko caught a cold, so (Y/N) is working from home today." Chiyo let out a pitiful whine.

The door to Udai's office opened slowly as the artist finished her sentence. It creaked as a mop of wavy black hair poked through. His nose pushed against the edge of the door as his eyes peaked over. "Poor baby Naoko is sick?" He asked, voice curling upwards. “If I could, I would make him some warm stew.”

“If you don’t get back to work you’ll fall behind,” Chiyo warned, not taking her eyes off of the large screen she drew on. With his frown becoming an unsightly grimace, Udai rushed back into his little office, berating himself for taking his eyes off of the paper for even a second.

Akaashi continued to stare at the empty seat on the other side of the frosted cubicle, biting his lip. He sighed, turning on the monitor on his desk, just barely ready to face the work he had to do for the next few hours.

Yukie opened the door, giving the taller man a familiar curled grin as she gestured for him to enter the apartment. He noticed the tall ceiling that had a fan hanging down from it and the plain couches that were covered with a soft-looking blanket. To his left was the open kitchen, where he carried over the stiff bag that he had been holding tightly onto. Yukie coughed, still holding the door open as she kicked on her shoes, umbrella in hand.

“I’m off to see some old friends,” she said. “I would say not to burn the place down, but it seems you brought food. See you.” The door shut gently behind her.

Down the hall, in Naoko’s room, you placed a cool towel against the boy’s forehead. “You really shouldn’t have played in the rain when Keiji dropped us off, now you’re sick.”

He moaned tiredly in response, trying to turn his head to feel more comfortable, nearly letting the towel slip. Shimmying the heavy fabric back into place, you let the tips of your finger trail along his hairline, feeling for his raised temperature as you soothed him. “Oh sweetie, it’ll be okay.” You pecked his forehead lightly, grabbing the empty glass that sat on his bedside table and tucking his soft orange blanket over his shoulders. “Go to sleep, it’s okay.” His eyes were already half-closed and you were rising to your feet when the door opened.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Akaashi pitched, having waited a few moments in the hallway to listen to the melting tone of your voice as you spoke to your son in words the editor couldn’t understand.

Awe immediately filled your stomach, fluttering like little moths trying to find the nearest light. You watch as the man bowed slightly in the doorway before taking a few steps to meet your side. Leaning down, the back of his hand came to cup the younger boy’s cheek. Your eyes widened as Naoko's head fell limp in Akaashi’s palm, nuzzling into the strong muscle beneath the man’s skin. The strange feeling nagged at you again, making your lips pull into a pursed smile.

“He played in the rain didn’t he?”

“Even after I told him not to. Maybe he would’ve listened to you better,” you chuckled, crossing your arms against your stomach as your brain took a moment to switch back to the staccato paced language, different from your native tongue.

“It’s a shame though,” Akaashi said, walking to the door, hand coming up to hover behind your back. “I brought some warm soup for him to eat, I guess it’s just us then.”

The both of you walked toward the kitchen/livingroom split, and Akaashi gestured for you to sit down as if he were the host instead of the other way around. He reached into the cabinets to pull out two bowls.

“Let me help yo—”

“You’ve done enough today by taking care of Naoko. Let me at least do this for you.”

The light soup, despite not being the sick one in the house, warmed you up easily as it’s delicate flavour ran over your taste buds with each spoonful. The two of you ate in silence, listening to the rain that spat against your windows with every gust of wind. You didn’t even realize that you had asked for seconds before the bowl was once again placed in front of you by one of his sturdy hands.

You quickly looked up to inspect the sharp corners of his eyes that smiled at you without needing any assistance from his mouth. The stare you were holding was quickly diverted to the bowl in front of you.

Before you even had the chance to notice Akaashi’s adoring gaze or the syllables that were about to fall off his lips, you blurted out.

“Thank you, Keiji. For everything.” You looked up just in time to see his mouth shut, waiting. “I honestly couldn’t be more thankful for everything you’ve done for us, I can’t put it into words.” You furrowed your brow as you maintained eye contact with him. “No, I seriously don’t know the words in Japanese. Don’t expect me to start spouting out a haiku for you just yet.”

He chuckled lightly, letting the melodic sound dance into your ears, making it even more difficult to put the right words together. You could feel heat burn the skin of your cheeks.

“I want to repay you somehow, so how abo—”

“How about I take you on a date?” he asked, leaning his elbows onto the counter.

You gulped, completely unable to get the words to escape you, and nodded.

Naoko, as you noticed over time since his initial meeting of Akaashi, has grown in unprecedented ways. Now, seven years since he was born, those small insignificant memories from when he was little had slowly faded into your subconscious, despite their images being engraved into your brain in those earlier years.

Your lip swelled from the bite mark you left as you watched him bounce on the wooden court, heals never planting into the ground.

Yukie, the sports-loving and nutrition enthusiast, was the first substance added to this boy of a chemical reaction; introducing Naoko (and by association you) to the keep up sport at the ripe age of three. Working with athletes on a day to day basis and being near them since middle school gave the maroon haired woman a leg up in understanding in comparison to non-sporty parents. As soon as she was able, she took on the position of something akin to a soccer-mom. Helping you enroll Naoko in sports as soon as he was able to walk.

At the time, Naoko never seemed all too interested in volleyball itself. More attracted to the notion of being able to bounce something around. It at least kept him away from your phone. But as he grew older, and people began to notice that he wasn’t originally from Japan, Naoko’s outer shell seemed to build a bit, only opening the door for a stray volleyball to roll in. He was so shy.

Akaashi, so similar in some respects, made an unknowing catalyst in the young boy’s reaction. Suddenly and rapidly evolving the young, shy boy into one whose outer shell had carved out a bigger door, letting more things in, and a lot more out.

At the beginning of the volleyball season, only a couple weeks ago, Naoko’s coach came up to you after a practice, asking if the young player would be interested in moving up a level in the club, joining the representative (Or Rep) team for his age group. Naoko had stared at you like a tiny tawny owl until you agreed.

Now, you sat on the small metal bleachers set up for parents to watch their kids play, letting the excitement bubble in your stomach as your eyes trained on the young boy set a ball up into the air for his teammate to spike into the opposing club’s side of the court. The blue and yellow ball smacked into the floor after flying over the short net.

“Good Job!”

Your vision, as the players set up for the next serve, shot to Akaashi who was standing next to you, hands open on either side of his mouth as he yelled out in support. You smiled as he sat down again.

“Thank you for inviting me to come watch him play.”

A laugh escaped you as your hand waved defiantly. “To be honest, it was Naoko’s request. I was just the messenger. Besides,” you prompted, gesturing slightly to your son, who’s smile tore at the corner of his squishable cheeks, the largest you’ve ever seen from him. “He wanted you to see his first ‘real’ game.”

Akaashi’s charming grin was hard to look away from and at.

“You know,” you continued, nodding over at the larger man that stood on the opposite side of the court with the rest of the players. “His coach told me that Naoko was a true prodigy after his try-out.” You bit your lip as you looked down at your fiddling fingers, feeling the light throbs begin to push against the back of your eyes. “Volleyball makes him so happy, and for him to know that he has talent is only pushing him further. God, he’s only seven and he’s already told me that he wants to be a volleyball player.”

You sniffled, hands clenching each other tightly. “I owe you so much Akaashi, you don’t even realize.”

His larger hand came to pull yours apart before holding the closest one gently in his palm. Letting his thumb swipe over the back of it. “You don’t owe me a single Yen, (Y/N). But hey,” he said, making you pick your chin up to face him. “If he wants to be a professional, I know a few cool guys he might want to meet.”

Sometimes I think about the fact that some of the people that have read our one-shots might share them with their friends or have a platform where they are popular, and it scares me and makes me happy at the same time.

Also, we changed our upload date to Sunday because it works better for Kiwi. - Bacon

Posted: 13/09/2020

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #anime x reader #anime #manga x reader #manga

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ifandomalot · 4 years

Text

Baby, Baby. | part 1.

Part 1 -Telling him.

Summary: Your typical, ‘original’ fic about a one-night stand with the newest avenger, Steve finds himself to be a daddy. Being pregnant is not easy, especially when the father is a super soldier that will do anything to protect his own.

Paring: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: This fic contains pregnant!reader, Steve being steve. Cursing, violence, injuries and smut.

If you want to be tagged, comment below!

Part 2. - The First Appointment | Masterlist.

It probably wasn’t the best time, but between finding the news out two weeks ago and countless missions it was hard finding the right moment to tell Captain America he was going to be a daddy. It’s not like you didn’t try, once you met him at his office but found yourself unable to talk, not about that especially. You blame those baby blues, that charming smile, those plump lips distracting you by bringing you back to the memories of him laying them against your skin, claiming your neck, lips and legs. One time in the kitchen you almost blurted it out, but Bucky had walked up the stairs and it just seemed wrong to say something so private. Every time you did find yourself knocking on his door he was on a mission, or in the hall way, leaving for one.

This moment probably the worst of all, but you felt like you were going to explode. The extraction point was only five minutes away, the whole team suited including you. Steve’s eyes kept meeting yours, a small smirk with gentle eyes. Ever since that night he’s been nothing but flirty. The jet let out a loud ring, to warn the doors were soon dropping. You debated on telling him after, but just in case something happened he needed to know. “Steve, Can I talk to you?”

“Of course you can sweetheart.” Steve was waiting for you to speak, and met your eyes when he heard silence to realize you meant alone, away from everyone. A confused look smooths his face but nonetheless he follows.

The feeling of his eyes against your skin made it burn, head grow hot, it suddenly became to hot concentrate. He must have noticed your discomfort at his hand cupped your arm, hand rubbing from your elbow to the skin of your forearm. “Are you okay?”

“I- uh.” You pause, words jumbling inside your brain. His warm touch wasn’t helping the fact either. The alarms sounded loudly, Vision mumbles something about two minutes until point of extraction. “I’m pregnant.”

Steve looks confused, mouth opening but closing again but realization hitting him like a ton of bricks as his face morphs into a stern look. “Mine?”

“There’s been no one else. I’m seven weeks.” You don’t meet his eyes, only the shifting of your boots.

“But you said you were on the pill, and I’m pretty sure I can’t have kids.” He talking more to himself than you, letting the truth out in the open for his ears to hear, to repeat himself again.

“Well if your cells regenerate every four seconds I can’t imagine what -.” Your cheeks light up, blush filling them. “And you were frozen, you didn’t age, I imagine your body didn’t either.”

Steve’s remained the same, not managing to show one emotion which worried you. His hands tighten into fist as he drew in a long breath, “You’re staying here.”

With only seconds left until the extraction, his finger points at Vision. “You stay here, and protect her.”

“Steve, the plan, I can still be back up.” Steve tensed his shoulders with a crinkled nose, his arms cross across his chest. “You stay here.”

His eyes meet Vision, “She stays on the jet at all cost, understand?”

“Yes Captain.” Steve takes one last look at you before extending his arm, wrapping it into the shield and out the opening of the cargo doors in seconds, without a parachute.

The whole time had managed to make it out okay, despite a few cuts and bruises. No one spoke a word despite how odd Steve was acting and that he made you stay behind, but no one would dare ask with a face like that. He didn’t say much to you on the way back but you understood. You had two weeks to process this, while he had a few clear minutes before jumping into a war zone.

The load roar of the engine plane rumbled inside of your ears, feeling your heart thump in an regular pattern. It was a mix or anxiety and nerves that made your stomach sick, actually for the past week you’ve been feeling very sick. Morning sickness is what your doctor said, which you didn’t understand because it hits you every time of day?

“Are you okay? You don’t look too good Y/N.” Buck noticed the change in Steve’s behavior, and loomed closer to him. Trying to ask whats wrong but Steve rolled his shoulders away from him despite his wring hands folded on his lap.

“I’m okay.” You spluttered clutching the seat underneath you tightly, knuckles white with the amount of strength used. Bucky or Steve didn’t seem to believe you as both stalked towards you. Both peering down with arms crossed against their chests. “I’m fine, I feel a little sick is all.”

Finally you were home, and all you wanted to do was go to sleep but Steve had stopped you with a hand against the small of your back as you walked through the door of the house, “I’ll meet you back down here in ten, we have to talk,”

His tone was soft, the heat of his breath against your neck, your body reacts with small bumps breaking through smooth skin, hairs sticking up as chills run through you. All you can do is nod, nervousness making you feel sick again. Steve was there before you, small peaks of blonde hair dipping from the baseball cap he used to mask his dirty hair, a comfy flannel unbuttoned and under that a tight henley shirt that stretched over his chest beautiful. A pair of comfy sweats hung lowly on his waist, and a simple hair of black socks that kept him warm after being wet for the whole ride home. He was reaching for two mugs, “Coffee?”

It was a little strange for the time, it had to be past twelve but Steve figured he wasn’t going to sleep much anyways. “I’ll take a tea, I’m not allowed to drink too much coffee.” Your eyes drift down to your stomach, Steve’s following yours as well with a sigh.

Steve places the mug in front of you, and takes a seat directly across from you. His hand rubs the nap of his neck in distress, opens his mouth but closes it, looking for the right words to say. “I don’t want you to think I’m pushing, but what do you plan on doing?”

Your eyes met his as a hand nervously knots your hair and twirling it between your fingers. “I, ugh.”

Words didn’t come easy, especially in such a messy situation like this. Steve’s soft hand presses against your arm, comforting you in his own way. As if he was letting you know he was here, it was okay.

“My parents never wanted me. I was only four years old when they abandoned me.” You say in a dry tone, “I want it, I could never do that to another person.”

Steve nods, blue eyes calming you. “I never thought I would be a father. Sure ninety years ago it was a dream of mine but I’m here for you but that’s my baby. I will be here for you and the baby.”

Suddenly tears filled your eyes, breathing trembling with the release of your chest. “I’m sorry, I’m just very emotional. I don’t know who I am anymore.” You joke, with an unsure smile but the sweetest smile with no teeth is returned.

“You’re pregnant?” The raspy voice behind you makes you jump. Bucky leans against the wall lips twisting into a half smile, his eyes shinning with slight entertainment. “I knew it!”

“Buck this really isn’t the ti-.” Steve is cut off as Sam enters the kitchen. His eyes raise in confusion at your tears and the seriousness sketched across Steve’s face. “What’s going on here?”

“Y/N’s pregnant!” Bucky exclaims with crinkled eyes and nose.

“Bucky!” Steve narrows his eyes, running his hands over his face in annoyance.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “What? You always wanted to be a dad Steve. What’s so wrong everyone knowing?”

“And Steve is the dad?” Sam shakes his head, “I guess you aren’t infertile then man, congratulations. A drink for Steve’s spunk!”

Steve’s cheeks are red, crimson blotting his chest. “Can we not cheers on my sperm? Besides me or Buck can’t get drunk.”

It’s too late, all the classes are poured and put in front of everyone. Sam downs his quickly, before wincing. “Oops, sorry mama forgot bun in the oven.” And downs yours too.

Bucky shrugs downing the contents despite the fact. Steve’s eyes met yours with a sigh, mouthing a small ‘sorry’ but honestly you were used to it now. You may have been the newest Avenger but it’s been close to seven months of living here with everyone. Steve looks at Buck, scratching his beard. “Well you can take Bucky’s room. It’s next to mine.”

Buck’s mouth drops but before he could say a word you cut him off. “My room is fine.”

“It wasn’t a question. I would feel safer with you close to me.” Steve leaves no room for an argument, tapping his fingers against the table.

“I can take care of myself.” You argue, “I don’t need you babysitting me.”

“I’m not baby sitting you. I’m baby sitting the baby in you.” Steve said with firm persistence. “And you’ll switch rooms with Bucky.”

“As if!” With a flush face you raise your finger into the area, “I will not.”

“Can you stop being stubborn for a second and understand why?!” Steve was ignored as you turn your back to him, hoping to get some help from Sam and Bucky who raise their palms up, wanting to part of this. It was unjustified, the claim he thought he suddenly had on you, the world was a dangerous place and with the line of enemies he’s made, he couldn’t trust anyone but himself to look after you. “You’re going to Bucky’s room and that’s final.”

“You can’t make me.”

Steve chuckles, but it holds no humor as he stands and crosses his arms across his chest. “I am your captain and as leader of this team I said you are moving to the room next to me. And from this moment on no more missions.”

Your mouth drops in shock, he doesn’t bother to stay letting his words sink in. “Can you believe him?”

Sam and Bucky met eyes, “This is going to be a long nine months.”

You narrow your eyes at them with a scowl, wrapping your cardigan closer to your body as you debate whether to follow Steve and give him a peace of your mind but honestly your feet hurt to much to move at the moment and the cup of now cold tea smells amazing.

Steve was no where to be found for the rest of the night, you decided to try and sleep but there was no use. Between the sickness, thoughts running a million miles a minute and there was no way in this world you could get comfortable you found yourself walked towards the kitchen, the taste of pickles is all you craved.

That was interpreted by the tall, shirtless blonde who had been the reason you couldn’t sleep, and in his hand the jar of pickles. Your lips press together to form a tight line, tugging the hem of your pajama shorts down lower, even though he’s seen it all before.

Steve has had a lot of time to think as well, maybe he was a little pushy earlier. Maybe he could have sat down and talked in out more before exploding like he did but he didn’t usual have this problem, it was all new. His eyes roam over the redness of your skin, lines from the bed morphing into your flesh. He drew in a long breath, tilting the pickle jar in your direction. A peace offering for his behavior. His eyes watch every movement of your small fingers reaching towards the jar and up until the crunchiness of it is heard from your mouth.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He breaks the silence, kneading his shoulder, a tight pinch making it uncomfortable. You shake your head, “It’s hard to sleep now.”

He shrugs, “Why?”

“I either have to puke or can’t get comfortable.” It’s the truth, there was no sugar-coating the way you feel right now.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I’m just..” He pauses, looking for the right words to say. “I want you to be safe, It would make me feel better if you were close to me.”

You wrap the blanket tightly around you. “I understand but I’m not helpless.”

Steve sighs, “I know you’re not, I’ve worked with you for months now. I know that we didn’t mean for this to happen and that you probably wish it wasn’t with me but it is. I will do everything to make sure I take care of you.”

“Fine I’ll move into the room.” Steve nods, his hand resting against the small of your back guiding you to sit down on the stool next to him. He takes a pickle, biting it quickly before offering you another one, you shake your head as he opens the fridge to put them away. “Thank you, I’ll feel better.”

“Are you going to go back to bed?” Steve questions shyly, extending his arm to rub the back of his neck, your slightly distracted by the movement of his biceps straining. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

“I don’t even know if I can sleep. It’s cold, and I just can’t get comfortable.” You sigh.

“I can stay with you if you want.” Steve’s mouth moves before he can even process what he is saying. His skin burns red in embarrassment, “Forget I even said anything, I -.”

“Yes.” It’s a soft pause, but he gives a closed mouth smile as if he was asking if you were sure. Honestly the warmth of another body next to yours was calming, and if it was anything like the night you two spent all those weeks ago, listening to his chest rise and fall would put you right to sleep. Steve followed you without a word, tucking himself into the other side of your bed.��

Steve’s body next to yours left you in a small daze, the smell of fresh soap filled and lotion made you slightly dizzy, but in a good way. A finger slowly stokes your jaw, then the outline of your cheek, ocean eyes gazing into yours. “Goodnight sweetheart. Thank you for agreeing to switch rooms."

“Goodnight Cap, you can leave after I fall asleep if you want.” He nods with nothing else said you found yourself finally being able to drift into sleep. While you slept soundly, Steve was wide awake. Not daring to move, seeing it was quite obvious the only reason for the sleeping beauty next to him was the fact he was there. How could he sleep at a time like this?

Dreams now were filled with the echo of small feet running towards him, babbles of a baby that called him daddy, piercing blue eyes that were too identical of his own. The pit inside his stomach made him feel sick, it was so unexpected and happened so quick Steve felt as if he didn’t have time to register what was happening. He was going to be a father, he was going to be in charge of another human for the rest of his life.

Missions suddenly meant he had something to risk, there was no more risking himself for the life of another. His gaze gravitates from the ceiling to the wild-haired beauty next to him. Actually two lives depended on him now. Usually he would be shy with a girl like you, the memories of the night shared come flooding back to him.

Steve buries his face deeper into a pillow with a sigh. It was a few shots of Thor’s mead that had gotten him risky, as well as you, a drunken haze. Steve never thought it would be a father, and pushed it so deep in his subconscious he didn’t bother to consider that he was fertile. Steve takes one more look at you, the softness of skin, redness of your cheeks from the irritation of the cotton sheet and lastly to your stomach, letting his mind wonder. He gets up from the bed slowly before leaving the room, shutting the door quietly, trying to escape his problems at the moment.

A/N: Sorry it started out slow but it’ll get better promise! :)

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x reader #steve rogers imagine #marvel #marvel blurb #captain american #captain america x reader

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vanilla107 · 5 years

Text

Muse

Hey everyone!

I know I'm two days late for @chlonathweek already but I sadly fell sick and it was difficult to write while getting bed rest and recovering. I will try my best to catch up but as I type, my sickness shows no signs of slowing down :(. Day 2's prompt was Hero/Akuma and I think you'll be able to see which one I chose! I hope you enjoy it!

Stay healthy! (unlike me right now lol) vanilla107 xoxo

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

Nathanaël was a simple young man.

He drew what he wanted and he drew what he liked.

He liked sketching more than painting and was proud of his 24 journals of sketches he had collected over the past few years, each one filled to the brim with his works.

He went from sketching still live, to buildings, to random people in the street and if something -or rather someone- really inspired him, his thoughts would be plagued for days until that drawing was put to paper.

And recently he had started sketching Queen Bee.

He was well aware he was also sketching Chloe Bourgeois, the mean girl of their school, but he kept making excuses.

Chloe and Queen Bee are like two different people!

Queen Bee saves lives and Chloe….she was responsible of more than half the akumas!

When super heroes transform…maybe their personalities change too?

He knew it wasn’t fair to try and separate Chloe from her super hero identity but he couldn’t help it. Chloe was just so…mean sometimes but he always felt guilty.

Despite the internal war he had been at with himself over the blonde girl, he still sketched Queen Bee whenever inspiration struck.

Which was all the time.

During class when he could see the back of her head, after school at some fancy restaurant and rarely, but his most favourite moments, when she was fighting alongside Ladybug and Chat Noir as Queen Bee.

It was like she eluded an air of grace when she was Queen Bee and he savoured every minute of it.

Over time it became bothersome, like when inspiration struck at 3 in the morning and he had to sketch because his brain would hate him if he didn’t.

This soon became a problem for him and he began to doze off in class, not caring of he got detention or yelled at because majority of the time, his 3 am sketches were always the best ones.

One afternoon, after a long day of school, he came home, screamed, and fell on the floor when he saw Queen Bee sitting on the couch in his living room. Nathanaël’s parents were thankfully away on a business trip because God only knows how they would’ve reacted if they saw her in their house.

He was tired.

So tired and wanted to sleep so badly but the one girl he couldn’t stop thinking of was in his house.

“Chloe! What are you doing here?” he shrieked and the blonde looked up, her expression annoyed.

“That’s Queen Bee to you! And I’m here because Ladybug told me to come here!”

“Ladybug? I…I don’t understand. I didn’t make anyone mad so there shouldn’t be an akuma after me…unless I did?” he mumbled, the fogginess in his mind refusing to lift.

Queen Bee sighed and stood up, stretching her arms over her head and Nathanaël drank in how the sunlight hit the material of her suit.

So complex…I must draw-

“You didn’t make anyone mad. Ladybug sent me here because someone from our class is worried about your sleeping habits.”

“My sleeping habits? Oh…me falling asleep in class,” he yawned.

“Yeah, it’s kinda stupid because what teenager doesn’t fall asleep in class every once in a while but Ladybug told me that you’ve been sleeping through whole classes. So, are you gonna tell me what’s up or not?”

“Chlo- Queen Bee, I understand that you want to help me and that’s great it’s just I’ve been having a rough couple nights but I’m going to sleep now…so I’ll be all good tomorrow,” he lied.

I’m definitely not up at 3 in the morning sketching you because you won’t get out of my mind.

Queen Bee looked him up and down, her blue gaze sending a shiver down his spine.

“Nathanaël, you’re a terrible liar but I’ll let this slide. If there’s no improvement by tomorrow, there will be hell to pay.”

He nodded and she jumped out the window back to find Ladybug.

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

It had been three days since Queen Bee had visited him and those three days had been utter nightmares.

It seemed that Queen Bee’s presence in his home made things infinitely worse for his art because his dreams of her were consistent and had him waking up at least twice in one night to draw.

Was it good for his portfolio for art school? Yes.

Was it good for his mental and physical well-being? No.

And he could feel Chloe’s gaze burning into him each time that he was sent to the principal’s office for falling asleep.

Once he got home, he wasn’t surprised to see a pissed off Queen Bee watching tv before laying her eyes on him, fury directed at him.

“Nathanaël…you are still falling asleep in class! I thought I would only have to visit you once but no!”

“Queen Bee I swear I’m-”

“Did you develop insomnia? Do you have sleeping tablets?”

“No I don’t-”

“Then try harder to sleep! Ladybug was not impressed with me because the person that updates her on you hasn’t seen any progress!”

Nathanaël wasn’t the type of person to yell at people. He was a relatively calm person but the sleepless nights and the girl standing in front of him made something snap in him.

He stared at the superhero, sleep deprivation getting the better of him.

“Try harder? Try harder! Chloe-”

“Um, Queen Bee-”

“-You really want to know the reason I can’t sleep at night? Why I’m sleeping in class? Because I am sketching drawings of you at 3 in the freaking morning!”

The echo that came afterwards was deafening and Nathanaël had never wanted to die of embarrassment until that moment.

“You…you’ve been drawing me?” Chloe asked softly, her feet rooted to the spot.

“No…no I was lying...obviously! Must be the sleep deprivation talking-”

Her eyes landed on his sketch book in his hands and he froze.

“Chloe…no-”

One moment, the book was in his hands, and the next it was in her hands.

She ignored his protests and began to flip through the pages, her eyes widening in wonder at the drawings of her. Nathanaël tried to grab it out of her hands but her reflexes were fast and she was on the other side of the room in an instant.

“Chloe, okay. I know this looks bad but I swear I just-”

“Nathanaël…these are gorgeous.”

“Thank you for the compliment but I…”

“You what?”

Now or never Nathanaël. Just be honest. Even if that means Chloe/Queen Bee never talks to you again.

He sat down in a heap on the couch and she joined him on the opposite end.

“Chloe…Queen Bee…whoever you are…you are the reason I can’t sleep. That book is one of seven, filled with drawings of you. I know that’s borderline creepy but it’s the truth. When I first started sketching you, I thought it was harmless. Hell, I even felt weird drawing a person I initially disliked for all the shit you put me through but I kept drawing. It became obvious to me that you were my subject of interest after I completed two journals full of sketches of you and…then I was waking up at 3 in the morning because you would not get out of my head. My best drawings usually are produced at night so I was willing to sacrifice sleep for it. Which brings us to where we are now and it’s all your damn fault that I’m sleep deprived OKAY.”

Chloe was dead silent and she processed all the information before getting up from the couch and walking towards him.

“So what you’re saying is…I’m your muse?”

“I…yeah…you’re my muse,” he said awkwardly, the term feeling unfamiliar to him.

“That…that’s really sweet of you Nathanaël…thank you. I…I’m honoured.”

Nathanaël’s heart stopped.

She sounds so sincere…is this really the same Chloe?

“The drawings are beautiful but…you do need to sleep. I don’t want the one guy who draws me to die of exhaustion,” she stated and he nodded sleepily.

“How about this, I’ll visit you whenever I can…and I’ll pose for you. In exchange, you sleep and ignore your urges to draw at 3 in the morning. I know your best works are done at night but Ladybug will have my ass if there isn’t any progress.”

Nathanaël nodded once more and felt his eyelids close. All the rapid emotions he had felt were collapsing on him and he knew he was going to crash any minute.

Her voice is so soothing when she says nice things.

He felt her pick him up and carry him to his room before tucking him under the covers. He didn't protest as he sunk into the warmth of his bed.

“Sleep well Nathanaël. I’ll be back tomorrow,” Queen Bee whispered before leaving, the door closing behind her softly.

Nathanaël Kurtzberg fell asleep with a smile on his face and with the scent of lilies in the air.

#chlonath #nathchlo #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction #my writing #nathanael kurtzberg #chloe bourgeois #chlonath week 2k19

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