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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

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Inspiration (Nathan Young x Reader)

A/N: I’ve been thinking more about my headcanon that Nathan has some sort of secret artistic talent. And then I had a flash of inspiration. Word Count: 1902 Content Warnings: drinking/alcohol, criminal activity, mention of animal abuse Cross-posted to AO3: here

“Hey,” Nathan said, waving his hand in front of your face, making you jump. “Earth to Y/N!”

“Sorry, what?” you said, slightly embarrassed that you had been zoning out.

“Am I borin’ ye?” he asked, pretending to pout.

“No of course not,” you were quick to assure him, before pausing a moment. “Well…”

He gasped.

“No! You’re not boring me. It’s just…we are just sitting around drinking stolen, bad, vodka,” you took a swig of the bottle in question and grimaced at its rubbing alcohol aftertaste.

“We could do somethin’ else,” he said, smirking and waggling his eyebrows before plucking the vodka out of your hands and chugging some.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, leaning over to punch him lightly in the shoulder.

“I was thinking more like...how do you feel about petty crime and vandalism?”

He gave you a curious look. “I’d say I’m a fan.”

“Good,” you said, taking out your phone to send a quick text to your friend to see if they could drop you some supplies. “Because I noticed a lovely barren expanse of walls on my walk over here that are just begging to be graffitied.”

“I’ve never done it,” he said with a shrug, “but I’m game.”

“Well,” you said, digging through the shopping bag you had found in the open boot of an abandoned car, right where you were expecting it, “El really came through with the supplies and the world is our canvas.”

You threw your hands in a broad gesture, before planting your fist on your hip. “And by that, I mean these two walls are our canvas.”

Nathan laughed, shaking his head wryly at you. “Lovely. So, what d’ we do?”

“Oh.” Your face fell slightly. You didn’t really know how to explain it to him. You had been painting street art for so long that it just came naturally to you. “Um...I guess you just, pick a can of paint and go for it. Paint whatever you’re feeling or thinking about. Or just your initials or something in a cool way. Whatever you want.”

“Hmm. Maybe I should watch ya for a bit, get some inspiration,” he drawled, giving you a cocky half-smile.

“I...uh...sure, if you want.” You shifted awkwardly, trying to ignore his gaze that felt like it was burning into the back of your neck as you riffled through the options to find the color you wanted. Stepping back, you looked critically at the wall, calculating it’s dimensions and what to start with. Satisfied that you had everything mapped out in your head, you set to work on the outline.

Nathan watched you work, your whole body moving fluidly in a way that sent his thoughts racing (not there was much you could do that didn’t), your brow knitted in fierce concentration. Once you had a vague outline of whatever you were designing, which he couldn’t even begin to guess, you shifted your focus to each individual section and detail. Occasionally, you would take a step back to see how the whole thing was coming together, tilting your head one way or the other, tongue poking out between your teeth slightly. He had never seen you so free and relaxed.

Suddenly, inspiration struck him and he practically dove into the shopping bag, rooting about for what he’d need. Taking a couple of the cans, he ducked around the corner to get started, a strange creative fire lighting in him.

“Finally come up with something?” you called softly, teasing.

“Yeah, yeah I did,” he said, almost absently. “But it’s a surprise, so no peekin’.”

“Ooh, mysterious.”

“Ye gotta promise ye won’t look til I say, Y/N,” he insisted.

“Alright,” you frowned, surprised he was getting so tetchy. “Cross my heart, I won’t peek. I’m pretty busy over here anyway.”

About an hour later, you put the final touch on your piece, your artist’s mark at the bottom so that anyone who knew anything would know who painted it. Stepping back, you smiled, wiping the slight sheen of sweat from your brow, formed by your exertion despite the cool night.

“You almost done, Nathan?” you called, surprised that he had been practically silent since he started working.

“Oh, yeah,” he called back distractedly. “Nearly. But I’ll come over there.”

“Sure,” you answered, puzzled by his odd behavior.

While you waited, you started gathering up the spray paints, putting any cans that still had paint in them back in the bag and tossing the empties in a nearby bin.

“Wow,” you heard Nathan say, making you jump as he appeared behind your back.

He was looking up at your art piece in awe. You had painted one of your signature designs: a laughing skull with flowers spilling from its open mouth. This time, the flowers were marigolds and foxgloves, and you had added a twist in the form of literal emerald eyes. You were quite proud of it, and Nathan seemed impressed.

“You like it?” you asked sheepishly, the heat of a blush creeping across your face.

“I love it,” he exclaimed, pulling out his phone to snap a grainy picture of it. “Make a cool shirt or somethin’. Or a pirate tattoo. Very punk.”

You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him. “It’s been an...evolving design since I was like 14. Leave me alone.”

“I’m not messin with ya, Y/N. I really like it.”

“Well, thank you.” You smiled and he grinned back, and for a moment you were lost in that. And then you remembered his very secret work.

“So Hotshot, do I get to see yours now?” you asked.

He jumped, startled and then shrugged, mumbling. “‘F you want ta.”

“Of course I do,” you said, taking a step toward the corner.

“No wait! If it’s a surprise, I should cover your eyes and lead you to it.”

Knowing him, you were suspicious that he had some prank or ulterior motive in mind, but you nodded your ascent. He moved up behind you, pressing his chest against your back and curling his long fingers over your eyes.

“Can ya see anything?” he asked.

“Nope. Totally blind.”

Slowly he walked you across the gravel ground. Once you stopped, he started shifting you around by little steps in one direction or another, as if trying to get you into exactly the right spot.

“Alright,” he said, a nervous tick to his voice. “Ta-dah!”

He dramatically uncovered your eyes to show what he'd been working on.

“Oh,” you breathed, stunned.

Staring back at you from the wall were a pair of eyes caught in mid-wink. Your eyes. Captured in exquisite detail, right down to the scar in your brow, earned as a child trying to stop a group of older boys from dropping a paper sack full of kittens into the drainage ditch during a downpour.

“Nathan.” You felt your heart swell at the level of dedication, the obvious emotion he’d put into this, and tried to keep your voice from breaking.

He scuffed the toe of his dirty sneakers in the gravel, looking down and away sheepishly.

“I know. It ain't very good and it's jus' yer eyes instead o’ yer whole face but I thought this way you wouldn't get busted. And ye said t' paint what I was thinkin of…”

You turned to face him, reluctantly pulling your eyes away from the work of art before you. Tucking a hand gently under his chin, you drew his gaze back to you.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, making sure he could see the sincerity in your expression.

He blushed, barely noticeable under the dim lights. “Ya think?”

You nodded, snaking your arm around his neck and stepping closer. His hand dropped to your waist as if on instinct.

“And very sweet. Some might say romantic even.”

“Hey, don’t go spreading those lies! I have a reputation to maintain ya know,” he joked, obviously trying to hide his discomfort at your praise.

“Nah, I like keeping that secret all to myself better anyway,” you teased, smirking before stretching up on your toes to press a teasing kiss to his lips.

He groaned, pulling you closer and kissing you back, tongue trailing over your lip almost immediately. You parted to let him explore your mouth, toying with an errant curl at the nape of his neck. Slowly he guided you backward, only to suddenly jerk you to the side, accidentally biting your lip in the process.

“Ow,” you whined, pulling back and bringing a finger to your lip to see if you were bleeding. “What was that?”

“Didn’t want to mess up the art,” he explained. “Or my jacket.”

“What do you mean?” you frowned.

He looked at you incredulously. You glanced down, realizing that in your haste to get ready, you had indeed pulled on his signature plaid-lined black garment.

“Oh,” you said softly before turning your face back up toward his with a smirk and a shrug to rival his most unapologetic expressions. “Oops.”

“Ye’re lucky ye’re so damn cute, or I might be mad at ya,” he teased.

“I’m sure I can think of some way to make it up to you,” you hummed, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned at you, and you stretched up to kiss him again, but just as your lips met, a strong, chill wind cut whistling through, causing you both to shiver.

“Maybe we should take this back to my place?” he asked, breath ghosting across your face.

“I like the sound of that,” you smiled back.

Quickly, slid the bag of remaining paint cans under the nearby dumpster for your friend to pick up later. All traces of your presence in the area (except of course the now much more beautiful wall) removed, you turned back to Nathan, ready to head out. He draped an arm around your shoulders and you happily leaned in to the gesture, tucking yourself against his side. As you walked back toward the community center, your head resting on his shoulder, you thought of something.

“Nathan,” you asked, slightly hesitant, fearful that he might put up walls against you again. “I thought you said you’d never done this before?”

“I haven’t,” he answered casually.

“Then how were you so good at it? The level of detail and real, genuine artistry…”

He shrugged, taking his arm from around you to fumble in his pockets for a cigarette and a lighter, the latter of which he couldn’t seem to find. You reached into the pocket of your jeans, holding out yours and letting him light the end of the cig with it. The distraction passed, you looked back at him as he looked pointedly away and took a long drag.

“I dunno. I mean it’s not that different from doodlin’ on paper with a pen or whatever, right?” he said finally with another shrug.

“That was more than ‘doodling’, Nathan,” you said, plucking the cigarette from his lips and placing it between your own.

He pouted at you as you took a drag and offered it back. His lips brushed against your fingers as he took it back, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Guess I’m just a man of mystery,” he said vaguely, draping his arm back around your shoulder.

“I guess so,” you murmured, not voicing how much you look forward to finding them all out.

#I think street art is really cool and I envy the artists' talent #so I made the reader one #because I can live vicariously #it is not however what she was busted for that got her put on community service #also let's assume that this is far enough from the center that they won't be assigned to clean it up in the morning #Nathan Young x Reader #Misfits fic

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littleindigochildx · 4 years

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hbd timmy ♡ [task 20]

“Happy birthday to yew. Happy birthday to yew. Happy birthday dear Timmy… Happy birthday to yew.”

It was barely even light outside and already Savanna was in her brother's room singing to him. She seemed more excited about Timothy’s birthday than he appeared to be. Keeping his present a secret all week hadn’t been easy for her. There were a couple of isolated incidents where she nearly ruined the surprise. She couldn’t wait for the grand reveal.

“Savvy…” The nine year old mumbled as he pulled the blankets up over his head. “It’s too early…” Timothy groaned. Victoria wasn’t even finished with his traditional birthday breakfast. Every year on her children’s birthday she made a fat stack of rainbow pancakes with homemade whipped cream. A single candle held breakfast in place until their wish was made. This year was no exception.

“But it’s yer birthday! Ya gotta get up.” Savanna explained. “Mommy is makin’ yer special pancakes an’ daddy is gonna come over.” That was all Timmy needed to hear to get out of bed. This was the first year he’d be celebrating his birthday with their father at home. What made the day even sweeter was having off of school. Palm Valley Elementary School had parent/teacher conferences. It wasn’t mandatory that parents attend if their kids were doing well in school, which Timothy and Savanna both were, so Vic and Declan didn't have to go. “We get’a spend the whole day with mommy an’ daddy.” Savvy beamed. The smile on Timmy’s face was proof that he was equally as excited. “Are ya gonna get up now?” The seven year old questioned.

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Downstairs Victoria was busy making breakfast. She had Timothy’s plate ready by the time he came down. “Happy birthday, my sweet boy.” She greeted the nine year old with a kiss on the forehead. “Mommy, what’a ‘bout me?” Savvy chimed in causing Vic to chuckle softly. She kissed her daughter on the forehead too. “Good morning, my little butterfly.” She spoke before turning her attention back to the stove.

“What are we gonna do t’day?” The seven year old asked as she patiently waited for her pancakes to be ready. Victoria turned to face her children. Declan would be there shortly. She sent him a text when she woke up to let him know the kids were already waiting for him. It amazed her how difficult it was to get Timmy and Savanna out of bed when it was time to get ready for school, but when they had the option to sleep in for a little bit… They were up before sunrise. “Are we waitin’ for daddy ‘ta eat breakfast?” Savvy asked. No one knew when Declan would arrive, so Vic told the kids they could eat without him. She would wait. She was satisfied with her cup of coffee for the time being.

“Mom…” Timmy spoke after taking a bite of his pancakes. “If we go out ‘ta dinner t’nite, can dad come too?” The little boy opted out of a party this year. He just wanted to celebrate with his family. He knew his friends would understand. “Are Ransom an’ Dottie gonna come over?” He hoped they would. He hadn’t seen either of them in over a week and he missed spending time with them. “An’ aunt Clara?” One of his favorite traditions was when Clara and Victoria made him a cake. “They can all come ‘ta my birthday dinner.” He also secretly hoped Rory would tag along too.

Before Vic had a chance to reply, Declan walked through the front door and Timothy’s attention shifted to his father. “Dad!” His face lit up. The nine year old had a feeling this would be one of the best birthdays yet. “Happy birthday, little dude.” DC replied as his arms wrapped around his youngest son and kissed his crown. He could have sworn Timmy grew a foot overnight. Declan was all too aware of how quickly the kids were growing up. How dare they? Who gave them permission to turn into miniature adults so soon?

“Can I open presents now, mom?” Timmy turned to face Victoria giving Savanna a chance to properly greet their father. The seven year old felt like it was her birthday she was so excited to see her brother open his gifts. “After breakfast.” Vic replied. She could tell how eager he was, but it was still very early. She wanted to make sure everyone ate (especially Timmy) because she knew once gifts were opened she wouldn’t see her son again until dinner time. “Awww…” The little boy groaned, but he didn’t protest further. He knew his mother was up early to make his birthday pancakes and he wouldn’t let them go to waste.

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After breakfast, once the kids were both dressed for the day, the four of them headed to the living room to watch Timothy open his presents. There weren’t many, but quantity didn’t matter to him. Everything Victoria picked out was something he loved. In fact, he couldn’t wait to put his new Lego star destroyer together. Timmy even agreed to let Savanna help as long as she didn’t lose pieces this time. “Thank you mom.” The little boy said as he stood up to hug Victoria. “Thank you dad.” He did the same with Declan. “Savvy… I love my treasure box. It's perfect.” He pulled his little sister close and kissed her on top of the head. She had given him a hand painted box (similar to last year) with all kinds of things she collected over the course of the year. Each piece was linked to a memory. A memento of their journey whether it was a coin from a trip to the arcade, or a heart shaped rock. Everything had a specific meaning. She put a lot of thought and effort into the present so she was glad he actually liked it.

“Ya still have one more thing ya didn’t open…” The seven year old said in a cheery tone. Her attention moved from the birthday boy to her parents. They couldn’t possibly have forgotten the biggest gift all. Savanna had been hyper-focused on it all week. “Yer right, princess.” Declan smirked. “How could we forget?” He teased. “Everyone grab jackets.” He stood and pulled Victoria to her feet. Savvy couldn’t locate her own jacket so she grabbed the closest thing she could find… One of Vic’s cardigans from the hall closet.

“Yer gonna have ‘ta cover yer eyes, pal. Wouldn’t wanna ruin tha surprise.” Declan explained as he carefully led Timothy into the detached garage Declan used to store his tools. Now they were collecting dust. Ransom borrowed them from time to time, but for the most part they remained untouched for the duration of DC's incarceration. “Ya didn’t get me’a goat or somethin’ did ya?” Timmy laughed softly. “I wish!” Savanna chimed in. In her opinion, they didn’t have enough animals.

“Almost there.” Declan stopped so Timmy was standing directly in front of his present. “No peekin’.” He liked keeping the kids in suspense. “Alright… Open um.”

The nine year old uncovered his eyes but his smile quickly faded when he saw nothing but a dirty blue tarp in front of him. “Is this it?” The question made Declan and Victoria laugh. “Why don’t I give ya a hand?” Before Timothy could nod, DC pulled the tarp aside to reveal a small, but fully functional motorcycle. It was a little big for him, but Timmy would grow into it.

“What do’ya think?” Timmy was honestly speechless. He wasn’t sure what he was more excited about… Learning how to ride it or learning how to fix it. “This… Th-this is mine?” He couldn’t believe it. “Mom… Did ya know ‘bout this?” It didn't seem like a gift Victoria would be completely onboard with given how dangerous it was. Savanna spoke for her mother. “We all knew ‘bout it.” Declan chuckled watching his family. “Happy birthday, little man.” He said as he placed a new helmet on Timmy’s head. "Can't ride without one'a these. Safety first."

“...This is the best birthday ever.”

#♡ timmy deschaine #♡ declan deschaine #♡ victoria deschaine #♡ savanna deschaine #task 20 #timmy writing

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