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#this is what i was looking for in my sketchbooks. and didn't find
misdre · 1 year
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wanted to spend the night doing something relaxing so i coloured this old ice skating drawing i'd only uploaded as traditionally inked before ❄️
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vetyr · 17 days
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hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT
Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.
When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.
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I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.
Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.
For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.
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Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.
The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!
It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.
I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).
Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)
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55sturn · 2 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ FEEL IT ON THE WAY HOME
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↳ masterlist!
↳ summary: in which matt finds himself growing jealous of y/n's friendship with nathan, despite matt not officially being with her, however she sees his deepest worries and assures there's no one else for her.
↳ pairings: matthew sturniolo x fem!reader
↳ warnings: swearing, jealous!matt, snide comments here and there from matt (basically passive aggressive!matt), relationship anxiety, angst if you squint.
↳ author's note: if you tilt your head, step back a couple feet, and squint your eyes you’ll see it’s based if you are in love by taylor swift.
THIRD PERSON POV
if anyone were to ask matt, when he fell in love with you, he'd tell you somewhere between junior and senior year. but deep down he knew that he was lying. he knows he fell in love with you the moment he met you.
the two of you met during the summer between eighth and ninth grade. it was the one and only summer he let his mom send him away to summer camp with his brothers. he decided that he'd go once, just for the memories.
and boy did he make some memories.
FLASHBACK
"matt c'mon! they're letting us have a free hour on the beach!" chris exclaimed loudly as he jumped on his brother's bed, disturbing the middle triplet who tried to peacefully nap during their free hour.
"chris go away!" matt grumbled, pulling the pillow over his head, keeping away from chris until nick came into the room, ordering matt to get up. matt obliged, but not without complaint.
the three boys made their way down to the beach. chris immediately took off toward the makeshift court where a few boys his age were playing basketball. nick took off toward alahna who attended the camp as well.
matt was about to follow nick when he spotted a girl, probably his age sitting alone at table drawing away in a sketchbook.
"hey, why are you by yourself?" matt greeted, sitting across from her, feeling the need to keep this girl company.
"i just moved to boston and my mom sent me to this stupid camp to make friends in time for school but i'm mad at her so i'm not gonna make any friends." the girl replied, not taking her eyes off her book as her pencil scribbled furiously. when she realized he wasn't leaving, she let out a dramatic sigh and looked out at the water.
"well, i'm matt!" he laughed, noticing how stubborn she was about not looking at him.
"i'm y/n." she replied, finally looking at him and felt her face grow warm, but she thought that was gross so she chalked it up to the summer air against her skin.
a week later, the girl left summer camp with four new friends, despite her penchant for being alone.
when the school year began, y/n quickly found that she was attending the same high school as the triplets. she was quick to fall into their routine, developing a close relationship with their closest friends as well. almost immediately fitting into their dynamic and group.
however, y/n got rather close with nathan almost immediately after meeting him. she opened her arms and let nate in without fighting, she felt a strong brotherly tie to him.
however matt didn't know that she only considered him a brother, his jealously stewing over time. he knew he was falling in love when he wanted to punch nate for stealing y/n from him. he knew he was falling in love when he was angry when he should've been happy when y/n found her first boyfriend.
he knew he was falling in love the moment he met her.
FLASHBACK OVER
in the two years since y/n, the triplets, alahna, and nate have graduated, matt hasn't been able to pinpoint the exact moment his relationship with y/n changed.
they went from awkward teenagers trying to navigate uncomfortable and unfamiliar feelings that brew in the pits of their stomachs every time they met their best friend's eyes, to people testing the waters of what is considered a normal friendship while cuddling, spending the night with her chest to his back and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.
they went from best friends teasing each other relentlessly over not having their first kisses only to become each other's first kisses. they kept the terribly awkward, clashing of teeth, tongue in the wrong spots type of kiss, to themselves.
however, despite their first kiss being terrible, once they graduated and the triplets moved to los angeles, y/n and matt had a tendency to share more kisses every time they convinced her to come out to los angeles or whenever the triplets flew back home to boston.
matt depended on those close, personal moments of intimacy with y/n. they made him feel like he had her in his life in a way that no one did. she was special to him, his first ever love. he didn't want to give that up. and so, he and his brothers were on their way to boston, partly because they missed home and mostly because matt needed to see her.
"so are you gonna tell her?" nick hummed, looking at matt who sat in the middle seat of their section on the plane, his eyes glued to his phone as he watched the minutes tick by, his right knee bouncing rapidly as he waited for the plane to land.
"huh? tell who? what?" matt replied, a delayed reaction to nick's question, the pounding in his chest travelled to his head, causing his reaction time to be slowed.
"he asked if you're gonna tell y/n that you've been in love with her for like ever, bozo." chris snickered, earning a swift smack to the stomach, causing chris to double over groaning slightly. okay so maybe, matt's reaction time wasn't delayed.
"shut up chris. i'm not in love with her."
"that's bullshit, and you know it." nick mumbled, earning a glare from matt who just slumped back in his seat, plugging his airpods into his ears, trying to ignore his brothers and their ridiculous teasing for the rest of the flight. the flight couldn't go by fast enough for matt, who was subconsciously biting his nails as he listened to playlist that y/n had made for him. as the boys struggled to but kept busy, the flight was soon over, all three of them rushing to grab their carry/ons and get off the plane.
as the triplets headed toward their house, they grew nervous. all their friends and family knew they were coming home and were awaiting their arrival. matt felt his nerves calm slightly when he heard y/n's laugh from the open window in the kitchen.
as he pushed through the door, he felt his heart crumble to pieces deep in his chest. seeing y/n, thrown over nate's shoulder laughing loudly as he tickled her, bright matching smiles on their faces, made his words and feelings get stuck in his throat as it ran dry.
matt scoffed slightly and rolled his eyes as y/n looked up from her place over nate's, smiling brightly and squealing slightly as nate placed her on her feet. matt ignored the bitter jealously rising up his throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek briefly.
"i missed you." y/n whispered as she pulled back slightly, the look on her face sending a stubborn, unwavering warmth through matt's chest that he tried to fight hard to fight.
"yeah, you too." matt hummed, hardly looking at her as he stared nathan down, a half-assed grin on his face while he dapped his childhood friend up. as y/n hugged nick and chris, she felt eyes staring into the back of her head. turning around, she met matt's angry stare along with nathan's blissfully unaware, cheesy and lopsided grin.
"can we go to denny's? i could so fuck up some of their waffles right now." y/n laughed, looking to matt, her eyes softening as she silently pleaded for the boy in front of her to drive the group to denny's.
"yeah lemme put my shit away and we can go." matt sighed, the hardened front he masked himself with easily cracking and crumbling down completely around his feet under the soft stare that had him weak in the knees every time he looked her way.
as he quickly shuffled his suitcase and duffel bag up the stairs to his room, he felt his mind swarm with conflicting emotions and ideas, unsure if he wanted to punch his best friend for carelessly flirting with y/n as if his feelings weren't painfully obvious or if he just wanted to settle in security, knowing that he had y/n in a way no one else did.
sighing, he returned back to the group of people waiting for him, knowing if he stayed in his room, someone would come  looking for him and he didn't have the nerve to talk about the feelings swirling beneath his ribcage.
the group piled into the van, chris, nick, and matt all in their respective spots, with nate and y/n squished beside each other, giggling amongst themselves as they talked about god knows what.
"so y/n, did you finally ask out that guy you said you were into?" nick prodded, tilting his head inquisitively as he eyed the way her and nate interacted.
"wait, did you think that guy was nate?" y/n laughed loudly, not missing the things nick said with a look.
"i mean, y'all act like a couple." nick chuckled as y/n rolled her eyes.
"yeah you do, it's fucking annoying." matt whispered to no one in particular as his eyes flicked to y/n in the backseat, however chris caught his comment and quietly giggled to himself. the rest of the drive to denny's consisted of the three in the back bickering over shit while chris watched matt stew in his jealousy from beside him, smirking to himself.
as the group piled into the restaurant, they all ordered their preferred forms of breakfast despite it being nearly two in the morning. the group giggled amongst themselves, save for matt who couldn't stop glaring at nate. y/n had picked up on and it made her feel unsettled, she couldn't pinpoint why he'd be upset.
as everyone finished paying for their food, y/n pulled matt aside, her hand on his arm as she looked up at him.
"what's goin' on up there?" she asked, her voice soft and calm, hoping it'd ease matt into talking, and help her get a sense of understanding what he was feeling.
"it's nothing, y/n." he muttered, his voice cold and slightly unsteady as he pushed her hand off his arm.
"matt, c'mon i know you better than you think i do, tell me what's bothering you. you've been acting weird since you first walked in the door. nate's noticed it and so have i."
"why don't you just go bother nate about it then? you seem to be much closer with him anyway." he snapped, rolling his eyes are the shock that fell on her face, before feeling his heart sink as her eyes held something that resembled hurt.
"that's what this is about?"
"y/n, drop it please."
"no matt, i thought it was clear that i don't see anyone else the way i see you."
"well with the way you've been acting with nate it makes me wonder what we actually are. i'm normally not the type to get jealous but jesus christ, i can't help it. you're an amazing girl, any guy would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend or whatever we are and i sometimes wonder why you're into me." matt whispered, unable to keep his feelings at bay any longer with the way she was looking at him, her head tilted, nothing but love and concern in her eyes. she made him feel safe, like he could tell her his deepest emotions and she would listen intently, providing safety for him.
"matt,-" she whispered, stepping closer to him and cupping both sides of his face, her thumbs dragging along his cheekbones as he leaned into her touch, his eyes falling shut briefly.
"there is absolutely no need to worry at all, i'm yours, okay? i-" she paused, taking a deep breath before continuing,
"i love you, matt. i've never looked at another guy the way i've looked at you. not once, and frankly i don't want to. there's no one that can understand a simple look from me the way you do. there's no one who knows me better than you, no one else who's ever taken the time to understand me and be patient with me the way you have. i am yours, and i hope that you're mine. okay?"
"okay." he whispered back, nodding softly as she leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a gentle but passionate kiss that meant they had a mutual agreement, that they were each others, and that one kiss, that one simple kiss that meant they understood each other, was more than enough for matt.
the two broke apart at the sound of giggles, turning to find the rest of the group standing behind them.
"what the fuck was that?" chris exclaimed, genuinely shocked that his brother and his best friend were kissing, and seemingly together.
"a kiss, dumbass."
"yeah but is this the first time or?"
"chris you idiot, do you not ever read between the lines? it's obvious they've been together for a while now." nick replied, his tone incredibly dull, like matt and y/n being together was the most obvious thing.
"i love you too, y/n." matt whispered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side, and pressing a kiss the side of her head as they walked toward the van.
falling in love with your best friend is never easy, it's complicated and messy and leaves behind a lot of doubt but y/n was worth every bit of complicated, every bit of mess left behind, y/n was worth it all to matt.
and that alone, was enough to put his worries and self doubt at ease. because as long as y/n was there to reassure him that she was his, he knew they'd be okay.
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glitch-karma · 1 year
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Bungo character's reaction to you drawing them
Dazai
He snuck up on you while you both were supposed to be working
"Y/nnnn~! I'm bored!"
You quickly hid the drawing but he still snuck a peak of it
"What's that?"
He ofc snatched the sketchbook
"My my! It seems you've drawn quite a handsome man!" "NO NO NO"
He proceeded to run around the office showing off your skills as you ran after him yelling
He also took the drawing home with him and actually genuinely loves it
Kunikida
Unlike Dazai, you're actually the one who gave the drawing to him
"Hey uh, Kida?" "What is it? I still have a lot of work-"
When he saw the drawing he was actually speechless
You thought he died for a second as he just mindlessly stared at the drawing
"...Kida-?"
He reached out and grabbed the sketchbook, his eyes never leaving the drawing
"This. This is me, correct?" "Yeah, I just thought you were the perfect model"
You start to get self-conscious as he goes silent again.
"Can I keep this?" "Huh?"
He looked up at you with a genuine smile as he asked again:
"Can I keep it? You're drawing skills are impeccable. I'm honored to have been your muse."
Anddddd you blush immediately and agree
He has it framed by his bed
Atsushi
You also gave your drawing to Atsushi
"I have a gift for you" "Really? For me?"
As soon as he saw the drawing he bursted up out of his seat with stars in his eyes
"Wow, you actually drew this!? It's incredible! You even got my eyes and everything! You really have a gift!"
You smiled as he stared excitedly at it
After he was done spouting out praises and compliments he gave you a big hug
He keeps it in a drawer by his desk
Ranpo
Ranpo deduced it was a drawing of him by the way you kept glancing across the room at him
While you were sharpening your pencil, he snuck over and ripped out the page
"Ugh- RANPO!"
He opened his eyes to get a better look at the drawing
"Awe y/n, you just can't take your eyes off the world's greatest detective can you?" "Wait it's not done!"
He childishly ran around the office as you ran after him
You both were stopped by Kunikida and you got your drawing back
Yosano
You were injured on a mission
After Yosano was done healing you the drawing fell out of your pocket
She was gonna just put it back in your pocket, but then she noticed it had her name on it
She opened it up and was shocked to see such a well done drawing of herself
She blushed and admired the drawing for a long while before folding it and putting it in her own pocket
She kept it and you assumed you lost it
Kenji (Platonic)
You gave the drawing to Kenji as a present
"Wow you really made this with your own hands!"
He was amazed at the drawing and smiled brightly at you
You treated him to beef stew after for all his hard work
Kyoka (Platonic)
To make Kyoka feel more welcome at the agency you made her the drawing
She thought it was a picture at first
"..Why do you have a picture of me?"
After you explained that it was a drawing and that you made it she got really embarrassed
she stared at it for a while and then gave you a hug
"...It's really pretty.."
You patted her head and helped her finish her paperwork after
Chuuya
He came to pick you up for work
While on his motorcycle the drawing flew out of your pocket
You immediately panicked and begged him to go back
As he parked you ran around searching everywhere for it
"Is it really that important? It's just a drawin'."
He saw that you were genuinely distressed and felt bad
He started helping you look for it after calming you down a bit
Unfortunately, he was the one to find it
"Hey is this-"
When he saw it was him he full stopped
You saw he had it in his hand and froze as he said nothing
He burst into laughter
"All of that for a drawing of me!?"
You guys skipped work and he watched as you redrew it as payment for laughing at you
Akutagawa
You were too scared to give it to him in person so you just left it on his desk
When he first saw it he was confused, but he saw it was signed by you
He didn't say anything to you about it the next day so you got scared
You slowly forgot about it till randomly on a mission you both were on
While you two were walking to the destination he randomly spoke up:
"Oh by the way thanks for the drawing. It was well done." "..Huh-"
He didn't say anything else about it and you were very confused
Gin
You and Gin regularly hang out outside of work: during one of these times you gave it to her
She was really embarrassed about it and muttered out a "Thank you.."
She cherishes it and keeps it by her bed
Poe
you hid the drawing in one of Poe's books
When he found it he was amazed
You even included Karl and that made him happy
He wrote a poem about it and he keeps both the drawing and the poem he wrote by his bed
Fyodor
You gave it to him
He just stared at it for a long long time
He nodded before putting it in his pocket
"I'll be keeping this."
He likes it ;)
Nikolai
He grabbed it from you using his ability
He looked at it with stars in his eyes before jumping up excitedly
"Quiz timeeeee~!" "Oh boy.."
"Question one: Why did you draw me, Nikolai Gogol?" "..I just thought you were pretty."
"Excellent! Question two: Do you always think I'm prettyyyy?"
You walked away from him
Ango
Ango works a lot so you found it hard to find the right time to give it to him
Eventually, you just gave it to him at the office
He stared at it for a long time, and didn't say anything
You got scared as he stood up and walked over to you
He suddenly engulfed you in a big hug which threw you off for a second
When he pulled away he had tears in his eyes which made you PANIC
"ANGO- ARE YOU-" "It's beautiful. This is the nicest gift I've ever gotten."
He keeps it framed by his desk so he can look at it every day.
Jouno
...
Dude he's blind-
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luveline · 10 months
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𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
you have to find new ways to communicate when a cold leaves you voiceless. miguel is less than happy —featuring grumpy miguel and his cheerful spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 2.3k.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel's hackles hike as you appear. You have an obsession with toying with him and he's in the middle of something more important than your whims and wants.
"Don't start," he warns, barely looking at you. 
You point at yourself as if to say, Who, me? Grinning, you pull your arms behind your torso tightly, your shoulders harsh slopes where they'd usually be lax with calm. Your spider suit strains against the movement, shining with a subtle shimmer as you twirl your way into his side. You blink up at him, mock-innocent. 
"What did I just say?" he asks. 
He's expecting a charming rebuttal he doesn't get. You're awfully charismatic; Miguel often thinks you've manufactured a devilish siren call that yanks him in like a fish on a line no matter how hard he tries to split his lip and flee.
You're pretty, sure, but it isn't your looks that endear you to him. You have this way of speaking that's effortlessly carefree, despite the frankly ridiculous depth of the well that is your fondness for the world. It shouldn't make sense, and it does: you're happy because you love the world. When you speak to him, annoy him, praise him and degrade him in the same breath, Miguel thinks you might love him, too. 
You're silent. Miguel takes it as a blessing and finishes analysing the footage playing in front of him. He finishes as quickly as he can, and he's not a dick, he says, "Thank you." Then, with an unimpressed eyebrow raise, "Where have you been?" 
You come to see him so often he kind of forgot you didn't have to. He's taken you for granted, he knows, and after three days of not seeing you he should be happier. He should've asked you about it as soon as you appeared. 
You shrug and point at his screen. He can practically see the question mark in your eyes. 
"That's nothing. What, you're not speaking to me now?" he asks. 
Paper creaks in your hand as you pull a sketchbook from your pocket. Small, lilac, you flip to the first page and show him the scrawled message there with a rueful smile. 
Miguel's expecting a cartoon version of himself, but instead you've written three words. 
I have laryngitis. 
Miguel's gaze flickers between you and your book, assessing the claim with scepticism. "Why would you have that? You're practically impervious to disease." 
You flip to the next page. 
Superbug from Earth-87222 defeated my enhanced healing.
One of your Peter Parker friends lives there. He isn't jealous (because he knows that particular Peter doesn't like girls). "And you can't talk?" he asks. 
The next page. I can't talk.
You tuck the book to your chest. Lips parted, you attempt to speak, but all that comes out is hot air and a cruel croaking scratch that makes his chest ache. 
"Don't hurt yourself," he says, softer than he'd been speaking beforehand. He can't decide whether to glare at you or pull you in for a hug. If he hugs you, you might attach yourself to him like that thing from Alien. He glares. "You could've told me." 
You gesture to your throat. I can't speak. 
"That you were sick, you know how to type. You bother me every day for weeks and then one day you stop showing up, and you don't answer your watch, what am I supposed to think?" 
You stare up at him dreamily. He swears you get off on being scolded half the time. 
Miguel takes your wrist into his hand and turns your wristband forward to showcase the screen. "You see this? You see when my prompt comes up? You could take ten seconds and hit me back." 
Again, you open your small sketchbook, turning to a fourth page. You've predicted him well.
I didn't want to worry you. Don't be mad, handsome, you'll get more wrinkles. 
"Tu sabes todo," he fumes. You know everything. "If you're so smart, you can help me recalibrate the pocket dimension storage." 
You flip a page. It's finally a drawing rather than a knowing line, your familiar artistry obvious in your weighted linework and rushed shading. It's Miguel, his expression one he isn't sure you would've actually seen to reference as well as you have, lovingly concerned with a speech bubble coming from beside his softly rendered hair. Get well soon, cariño. 
He scoffs. "You seem fine to me." 
In truth, you don't seem fine. Now he knows, he can see evidence of your days away. Your lips are chapped under the balm you've applied, your hair dishevelled (though it's often unruly, in line with your personality). You wince when you breathe too hard. Miguel lowers the platform and sets you up next to him on a workbench in the back of the laboratory beside him for purely professional purposes. He has to make sure you're doing the calibration correctly, that's all. 
He can't quite explain away the tea he gets for you from the cafeteria, nor the research he does on the way back to you, Lyla at his shoulder saying, "You're such a softie." 
You find you don't need the sketchbook to communicate. Miguel places your tea down and your smile alone is thanks enough. It's pure reverential delight. He doesn't really deserve it, so he pretends he doesn't see. 
When you need help with a recalibration, you take his wrist gently. You don't even need to point at the screen, the subtle uptilt of your brows enough clue.
"Here, you're almost there," he murmurs under his breath, distracted by the complicated code you've been editing in the corner of the screen. "Oh, is this what you do when I'm not looking?" 
You tug his elbow. 
"No? You're not messing around?" he asks, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm stupid." 
Your fingers tighten. Miguel clicks a couple of things to finish the calibration. He looks at you from over his shoulder. Your face is near. It radiates heat. He bites the tip of his gloved finger and yanks it off clean to press the back of his naked hand to your forehead. 
"You're warm," he says, patting carefully downward. Your skin is as hot as he'd worried. 
Miguel drops his hand without rush, the side of his pinky tracing down your cheek. "Maybe you shouldn't be here." 
You shake your head vehemently. There's something in it he doesn't understand, an uncharacteristic shyness. He supposes he'd feel the same if he were sick like this, but you have no reason to be ashamed of a bad cold.
"Enough calibration, then. Take it easy." 
You do not take it easy. Your first port of call is to request to share his screen. He grants you permission and rescinds it soon after, irked when the majority of his monitor becomes wallpapered by digital post it note drawings of him looking cranky and of you in a crown, a ship's captain's hat, standing on the moon. He sets them each back to the perimeter of his window and tries to work. Trust you to find ways to bother him without teasing aloud. 
He thinks that… but then, his hands falter over the keyboard. You aren't a bother. You irritate him but he kind of likes it, most of the time. He turns his head just enough to see your face, blue and white light kissing your skin. You glow. 
Miguel thinks about how he used to do this alone. Lyla on his shoulder when she felt like it but usually tinkering in the quiet, trying to stop the end of the world, the pressure akin to how Atlas himself must have felt, knees locked and arms braced above his head to stop the Earth falling into the black abyss. Miguel doesn't always know what he's being punished for (or, he didn't). He doesn't know why this ended up on his plate, but the panic of doing it alone ebbs every day. With you by his side, unshakeable if not unfailing, it feels less like a death sentence and more like a problem that needs solving. He can't save everyone, but he can try. He can't stomach the agony of his life if he thinks about the past; you make it easy to stay present. 
Who would he rather have here than you? Out of everyone living that he knows, you're the only person he could stand to sit with for this long. 
It's not the same without your voice. Your murmurings, your kind doting, your put upon and less-so confusion. He misses it more than he can say in that moment, worse when you feel his eyes and turn to face him with a soft smile. 
Everything okay? you ask without asking. 
You don't need to speak. He can see it on your face. 
Miguel gets up from his bench to tower over you. Without giving it too much thought, he bends down, wrapping his right arm behind your shoulders, the left loose over your front, and kisses your forehead with the barest of pressures. It's hardly a kiss at all, and it makes no noise. More like he's resting his lips there, his nose at your hairline, breathing in. His hand rubs an up and down of its own accord into your upper arm, the soft fat of it melding under his touch. 
Your head dips back invitingly. You're like butter in the sun at his touch, a slow melting. 
"If you tell anyone about this, I'll deny it," he says quietly. 
You snort. You give his arm a pat and reach over it to grab your sketchbook. Miguel straightens but doesn't remove his arms, watching as you flick to the right page. 
I can't talk, the page says. You beam at him.
"I see," Miguel says. "You think it's funny because you couldn't tell if you wanted to." 
Your answering hum comes with the feeling of your fingers latching onto his elbow. Exactly. 
Well, fuck it. If you can't tell anyone, Miguel might as well send it. He leans down to grab you up into his hold, a squeezing hug that says everything he wanted to tell you while you were gone, his worry for you and his annoyance at your lack of communication. You don't need audible words to tell him things, and Miguel doesn't need words either. Hopefully his arms around you and his nose digging too rough into your temple says how he feels plainly. 
"I figured you got sick of taking orders," he confesses. You got sick of me. "When you didn't come back." 
You refuse to act small —Miguel doesn't want you to—, standing despite the weight he'd been resting on you, turning in the circle of his arms to look up into his eyes. It's too much, Miguel doesn't want your face this close to his, not with the rawness of his feelings aching a trail up between each of his rib bones, one by one. He clenches his jaw. 
Your hand climbs to his ear. He stays very still. As the initiator he should be forgiving, but your fingers touch his ear and he contemplates sinking his teeth into your hand. You stroke hair away from his face with a dramatised expression that says it's in the way, pesky stuff, though the final fond tuck of it behind the shell of his ear is impossible to deny.
Your thumb rubs his earlobe. 
"Are you having fun?" he asks dryly.
Your nod is sincere. Enthusiastic, you start to ease your fingertips into the thick tresses of his hair. 
Miguel grabs your wrist in an iron grip. 
"Enough." 
He guesses more than knows what your pout means —that isn't fair. 
"Life isn't fair," he says, pressing your forearm to your chest, an action fraught with apology. It's ridiculous how much can be said without words. He'd like for you to get your voice back solely to end this confusing misery. Well, not solely… Miguel misses the sound of it, distinct as your lopsided smiles and unconventional hand movements. "You can file a complaint just as soon as you get your voice back, how's that?" 
You roll your eyes and sit back down on your bench. Miguel takes a lap around the laboratory to calm down, returning to a new program blinking on computer his taskbar to be opened. 
He doesn't give you the satisfaction of looking your way as he opens it. 
"Miguel!" The program chirps, in a voice jarringly close to yours but not nearly as sophisticated as the majority of language intelligence he uses in his own coding. "I was waiting for you, handsome! Where have you been? Now you're back, I have a very special song to sing for you. Sing along if you know this one! Alright… Ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety nine bottles of beer! You take one down, pass it around, ninety nine bottles of beer…"
Miguel realises he can't mute or close the program shortly thereafter. Vocaloid you counts down to sixty one bottles of beer by the time he resigns to turning off his computer altogether, a headache twinging angrily behind his eyes. 
Maybe he could use a break from your voice after all. 
You giggle breathlessly at him as he drops his face into his hands. 
"Drink your tea," he orders, words muffled by his palms.
He doesn't look up. There's the sound of a big sip. Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. He's kidding himself —the sooner you get your voice back, the better. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!
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all444miles · 10 months
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can you do miles with and earthy black girl! Like I can see him wanting her nose rings, and accessories but don’t get me started on how he SIMPS for her waist beads. He loves seeing her at school with her hair wrap and locs and her lavender and coco sent, she’s a calm person to!
thank you so much for your AMAZING work God bless❤️❤️❤️❤️
— DOWN TO EARTH
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— pairing: both miles' x black!earthy!fem!reader — genre: fluff — summary: what its like for both miles' to date an earthy girl ‹3 — a/n: quick note, the reader calls 1610 miles "bambi" as a nickname becuase he reminds her of a baby deer ‹3 (credits to my pookie for that !!) — a/n 2: I didn't know which miles you meant, so i just did both 😭 also pretend that brooklyn visions academy doesnt have a uniform.. i was tired writing this so im rlly rlly RLLLY sorry if this is bad but, i hope you like this, and enjoy !! ‹3
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E-42 MILES
Miles loves being in your room. the smell of burning coconut incense, the look of your fairy lights, the small plants, it felt so chill, so peaceful. he liked that.
he always knows which incense you've used, and will pick up if you've changed them. He'll buy you some if you need any more.
"You got rid of the coconut incense? Mami, that one was my favorite." "Baby, I only have one pack left." "Oh? Aight, i'll buy you some tomorrow."
he'll never tell you, but if he misses you, he'll listen to your favorite songs that you'd always hum to yourself when you two are alone.
does he like Erykah Badu? Yes, yes he does. he'll listen to Green Eyes on his missions with his uncle whenever he gets the chance.
his uncle caught him once; one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.
"Kid, you listenin' Erykah Badu? Ian know you into allat." "Yo chill, it's only cuz my girl like her." "Mhm. You sure you my nephew or am I trippin?" "Tio, let's just roll."
he's loves to cuddle with you, especially cause you always smell like lavender. he won't let you go either.
"Miles, I gotta get some food." "Nuh, in a minute." "Hun, you done said that 2 minutes ago." "Exactly, in a minute. I like being here."
absolutely in love with your waist beads. he loves the jewllery you were (you both have matching necklaces), but your waist beads? goes absolutely crazy whenever you wearing a crop top and you have them on.
one time you two were at a beach and you wore them with your bikini, he might as well have fell in love with you all over again. bro has his hands on your waist the whoooleee time.
"Princesa, never take off your waist beads." "Why? You like 'em?" "¿Gustarme? Chica, Dios mío, estoy enamorada de ellos." (Like them? Girl, my god, i'm in love with them.) "Miles!" "What? I'm just appreciating my queen n her style, ion see no problem."
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E-1610 MILES
Miles is obsessed, like, obsessed, with your style.
if you two live close, he'll style your locs and do your head wrap for you before school.
if not, he'll come to school excited to see your ootd. that is, as if you don't send them to him everyday before school.
"You look gorgeous in your outfit, amor." "Thank you Miles. You do know i already showed you it before school, right?" "So? It's always better to see my wife's outfits in person." "Bambi, you so corny."
he draws you, all the time. look through his sketchbook and you'll find drawings of his friends from the spider society, his uncle, and thousands of you.
Instead of doing what his twin does, when he misses you, he'll draw you. He misses you a lot.
"Baby, can I see your sketchbook?" "..Uhm, yeah! Sure." "You draw me? Awwe, that's so cute."
he loves how calm you are, he actually thinks of you as an angel the way you're so peaceful.
he thinks your nose rings are so gorgeous. if you let him pick which nose ring, he'll be so honored.
adores the fact you smell like lavender. he'll always lay his head into the crook of your neck because he loves your scent sm.
like his counterpart, he's so fascinated to your waist beads. like, he just thinks you look so beautiful with em. One time, you put his hands on your waist, he honestly didn't know what to do with himself.
"Mami, did you know I love your waist beads?" "Yes, bambi, i know." "Nah, but I loooovvveeeee them!" "Baby, i know!" "Like, I looooooooooooovvvvvvvveeeeee them!" "Love, please."
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© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.
likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !
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What if instead of Wednesday being in the room when Bianca knocks on Xavier's door, he's cuddling with his new girl? Hides under the bed or closet or whatever
my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time
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You rubbed soft circles into Xavier's waist where his shirt was riding up while slowly kissing. His sketchbook had been abandoned and kicked to the end of the bed, no longer of first interest. Despite being alone, neither of you had any further intentions.
Xavier hummed at your touch and leaned into you like the soft and needy kitten he was. You smiled and continued your caresses.
Your and Xavier’s relationship was completely unknown to your Nevermore peers. After his very public breakup with Bianca Barclay, Xavier didn’t want to flash his new relationship to everyone — especially Bianca. She didn’t call the shots and tried many times to get Xavier to take her back, but he refused every time.
Besides, sometimes things are better if you keep them just yours.
A knock on the door forced you and Xavier to break apart. You didn't want to, very comfortable entangled with him on his bed, but there was a possibility this was the house master passing for his evening checking.
Xavier pushed you into his bathroom in prevention and closed the door. The floor was still wet from his shower, but it wasn’t dirty like under a bed.
He tamed his hair a little and opened the door, finding a smiling Bianca on the other side. Slamming the door in her face was tempting, but Xavier didn’t want to make a scene.
He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her inside. ‘’You're not supposed to be up here,’’ he said flatly.
‘’Good to see you too,’’ Bianca snarked back.
‘’How did you get past the house master? Did you use your siren powers?’’
‘’Not while wearing this.’’ She touched her amulet necklace.
Xavier walked away from her, keeping a distance between them. ‘’What do you want, Bianca?’’
You could hear in his voice that his interest in her was completely gone, but she refused to bury their relationship. She kept searching for a spark through the burned embers to revive the flame. Unfortunately for her, Xavier was fueling another fire.
‘’I wanted to see how you’re doing. I’m sorry about Rowan. I know you and him used to be close—’’
Xavier huffed. The last time he heard her talk to Rowan was in fencing class and she called him lazy.
‘’Since when do you give a damn about Rowan?’’
‘’I care about you.’’
He couldn’t deny that. Although she made him doubt his own feelings for her, Bianca wasn’t an evil soul. She always cared about Xavier, whether they were in a relationship or not.
Bianca stepped up to him by his bed and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers. ‘’We were good together, Xavier.’’
‘’Were we?’’ he asked, looking up at her. ‘’Or was that how you wanted me to feel?’’
The walls of the bathroom were thin enough for you to hear their conversation close to perfection. Thin enough to hear the lingering pain in Xavier’s words, still hurt by Bianca’s past actions.
‘’I made one mistake and you can’t forgive me—’’
‘’There is nothing to forgive. I just want to move on,’’ Xavier said, tired of going over the same things every time they talked. ‘’I broke up with you, remember? Now, please leave before the house master comes for bed-checks.’’
Regardless how sorry she was, the manipulation of his emotions was something he could never forgive Bianca. His whole life is controlled by his father in a way or another; the only thing Xavier has control over is his emotions and if someone take that from him, he’ll have nothing left.
She accepted her defeat and turned to leave, but on her way out, Bianca caught something on the adjacent empty bed. A jacket.
‘’Isn’t that Y/N’s jacket?’’ she asked, recognizing the clothing.
For a short few seconds, Xavier thought he had been caught. He found himself stammering while searching for a quick but good enough lie.
‘’She…she forgot it in the quad a-and I was planning to give it back to her tomorrow.’’
Bianca raised an eyebrow, doubting him. ‘’I’ll see you tomorrow at the lake. Make sure to get enough sleep…or not.’’ Her blue eyes shifted to your jacket. ‘’I’m gonna crush you anyway.’’
After her departure, Xavier groaned. She knew you were there.
Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n  @poppet05  @ell0ra-br3kk3r  @rhaenyraswife  @teaganthemorningstar   @aphex2winn @moompie   @ifevilwhyhot @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo @theyslayallday @wrldofsage @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx
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sleepyangelkami · 3 months
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You having a secret crush on ellie and you keep it to yourself but she finds your diary one day and she can't help herself so she reads it when you go to the bathroom
DEAR DIARY e.williams
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 ☆ WORD COUNT - 3.4K
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ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER
 ☆ SUMMARY - you and ellie have been best friends for as long as you can both remember. she was the artist, you were the writer. you both respected one anothers hidden sketchbook and diary. until one day you're taking much too long in the shower and it's just... sitting there! ellie can't help herself and she finds out a little secret.
 ☆ WARNINGS - snooping? tinsey bit of angst if you can even call it that, touch starved reader, sort of loser!ellie a little, lil crying, petnames, use of y/n like once, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
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for as long as you could remember, ellie had been your number one. she was your best friend in the entire world, you told her everything and she told you the same in return. okay maybe not... everything. there was one thing you'd been having an awful hard time keeping to yourself. though, you were sure it was much better in than out.
you and ellie were like an orange and black cat, you were fire and ice, the sun and moon, a writer and an artist.
ellie drew a lot. you'd seen multiple of her drawings before. you remembered the first time she'd doodled a frog onto your arm during a boring lecture from tommy and maria. she gave you a confused look to your state of shock. but you were merely surprised. sure, you knew she could draw. but you didn't know she was that good.
you were the writer. ellie was well aware of this. whether you had your laptop propped up on your knees, writing away or a pen in hand scrawling letters around the little pages. ellie always thought your handwritting was nice. it was much better than her fat chunky lettering that everyone always seemed to have trouble reading. she'd always watch the way your pen would dance across the page, so easily and smoothly. she was almost jealous.
you'd both grown to understand the boundaries of her drawings and your writing.
two things were off limits. one, was her big black bulky sketchbook that she often brought around to your house or sat under her arm. two, as your pink journal. she'd seen it once, questioning you what book was falling out from your locker drawer. you were honest with her. you told her it was your diary, the book you cherished the most, the book she could never read.
at first, ellie was a little taken aback.
sure, she knew everyone had their own secrets but it was you. you told ellie everything, or so she thought.
"oh, thank god." she spoke, pushing her jacket off as she walked into your house, right through the front door. the snow from outside decorated the crown of her head and the tip of her nose. "i was looking everywhere for that." discarding her wet boots at the door. "thought i lost it."
"nope." you chimed from your place at your kitchen counter. your stools had been the very ones joel had built for you. well, not for you. he really built them for anyone but when no takers raised their hand, you sort of felt like you had to. ellie laughed at you, stating nobody would want to sit at your kitchen counter ever again. "right here."
ellie soon made her way across the kitchen, taking the sketchbook from your hands softly. "you didn't... look at anything, did you?"
you shook your head from side to side. "'course not, els." that beloved nickname that had her cheeks turning pink. "'s the same way i wouldn't want you reading my diary. i wouldn't look at your sketchbook like that." god only knew what ellie williams was drawing on the cream coloured paper.
she breathed a sigh of relief, believing you. "okay, thank you." though she still had a gnawing feeling at the bottom of her stomach. what if you did? i mean, you wouldn't do that much less lie to her afterwards. but what if. once the thought entered her head, she had a hard time getting it to leave again.
"wanna watch a movie?" you questioned, placing your chin on your hands that had been propped up by the elbows onto your kitchen counter.
ellie sat herself on one of the white stools, not the wooden ones joel had made. "whatcha have in mind, sweetheart?" it wasn't often that ellie came over for less than a day. i mean, you two were practically attached together by the hip. if ellie was at your house, and even just for something as small as to collect the sketchbook, she was more often than not staying over.
you hummed, your lips pressed together. try as you must but you never were able to play off the stammering and flustered appearance as she called you those pretty names. but that was sort of the whole point, she liked the way your cheeks heated up. "something christmassy." you spoke. "like the muppets or something."
the girl merely raised a scarred brow at you. "it's november."
you huffed out a sigh, rolling your eyes. "'s never to early for christmas, els."
that was enough for ellie, she supposed. after this short interaction in the kitchen, you both ended up sat atop your living room couch, you fishing around with the remote. thankfully, she'd agreed on the muppets christmas carol, and you were not about to give up the oppertunity to watch your favourite movie with your favourite person.
a hand came down to your side, gently rubbing up and down gently. suddenly, the buttons on the controller seemed hazy and you blinked not once, not twice but three times, a breath falling from your lips. her fingers were so long and pretty, gently soothing the bare skin from underneath your shirt, barely hitting against your stomach. it wasn't much but for a touch starved girl alike you, it was enough to have your stomach in knots, your mind blurring into one big watercolour.
ellie seemed to have taken notice to the way your entire demeanour changed, her brows barely moving. "something wrong, baby?" you couldn't tell if she were being serious or not. perhaps it was because everything seemed hazy but truly, you couldn't distinguish whether or not she was trying to fool around with you or if her words had really been spoken with such innocence.
did she know what she was doing to you?
you cleared your throat, bee stung lips rolling. "lets jus' watch the movie, els." pressing what you assumed was the start button and watching as the screen lit up. avoiding the question completely.
you'd missed the way her lips curved up into a smirk.
of course, ellie williams was well aware of the effect she had on you.
you see, you'd been hiding this 'crush' on your best friend for quite a long time now. but it was times like this that you swore she knew, she had to. of course, she had to be aware of the way you stumbled upon your words around her or the way your face seemed on fire when she used those pretty nicknames on you. that was the thing, she called you the names, nobody else, not even those fuckbuddies of hers.
it begged the question, where did you stand to her?
you'd been best friends for so long now, you were sure she merely called you these things and seemed so impossibly close because she was comfortable with you. otherwise, there'd somehow be a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why she treated you so differently. though, the bigger part of you, the one consumed by romance novels and love letters, the one that consumed romantic films as if it were food, that part of you wanted to believe it was because you were different. well, not you necessarily. you didn't want to be different to all the girls she fucked, well, you didn't really care. you just wanted ellie's feelings for you to be different.
you didn't want ellie to look at you like you were one of those girls that'd spend the night then leave by morning without so much as a breakfast or goodbye.
you wanted her to look at you like you were worth a million stars. the way you looked at her.
you'd been enamoured by her since the day you'd met her and it appeared as though it were obvious to just about everyone other than her. your best friends dina and jesse had instantly picked up on it when you were kids. it was a wonder to both you and them how ellie still hadn't found out.
but even when dina and jesse brought it up, whether there was a teasing tone etched to their words or perhaps they were asking a serious question, you did exactly what ellie told you to do in every other situation. deny, deny, deny. probably the only time you ever took on ellie's advice.
the one person or thing, i should say, that actually knows about this little 'crush' on the auburn haired girl was the little pink notebook tucked away in the side drawer of your room, right next to your desk.
seeing as it was merely ink to a page, you didn't have to hide. you didn't have to become flustered the way you did when talking to ellie and you didn't have to lie the way you did to dina and jesse. you could simply breathe again.
it was the thing you admired most about this little book, the freedom.
you could say anything you wanted about anyone you wanted and nobody would ever know. it'd never leave the little pink book. besides, the only person that knew about your diary was ellie and you trusted her enough not to look through it. the same way you'd never pick up ellie's sketchbook and look through it.
not only because she asked but because you too know what it's like to have something of yours worth so much value. not in money, of course, but in a sense that it truly was yours and nobody elses.
"yes i could." you bit back to the auburn haired girl that sat atop your bed. the movie had ended hours ago, you'd even thrown on another one. this time, ellie got to choose and as always, she chose a horror. you hated horror movies and yet every single time, without fail, ellie was throwing one on.
"no you couldn't." she rolled her eyes. the current debate was whether or not you would be able to survive the scream movies. you were sure that you would, without a doubt but ellie wasn't so sure. "you can barely sit through a horror movie let alone be in one."
"they're just not interesting." you all but pouted, your stomach leaning against the bed as you looked up at her, tight lipped smile on your lips. "they always have the same plot and they're so... gory." it wasn't that you were scared of them necessarily. don't get me wrong, sometimes you're halfway behind ellie, screaming in her shoulder at what you're watching but even then, you still wouldn't choose to watch horror movies even without all the jump scares.
"yeah, yeah." she rolled her eyes again, she seemingly always did that when you were around. "just say you're a pussy."
you narrowed your eyes at her. "am not."
"annabell." the one word sent shivers down your spine.
"that's different." you defended. you hated the movie more than anything else in the entire world, probably even more than you hated ellie's silly jokes (you loved them really).
she cocked a brow. "how so?"
"because!" you exclaimed, flopping onto your back. "that's a scary doll that'll break into my house while i'm sleeping and―i don't know find some really creepy way to kill me. but ghostface?" you huffed out a giggle. "I could take him on."
this time, ellie tilted her head, a smirk on her lips. "really?" as if she didn't believe you at all.
you frowned at that, did she not think you were strong? you liked to believe you were strong, strong enough to take on ghostface? perhaps not. "i could take you on." you scoffed, looking at her arms.
although you wish you hadn't. the way they flexed under her shirt was enough to have your stomach rolling. her arms were the very thing that had you squirming, they were so defined and toned, along with her stomach, showing you what true muscle she had. your head felt nauseous merely looking at her.
she was getting closer to you, watching as you observed her, eyes never leaving her body. "that so?" teasing voice.
but you didn't respond with words, a mere "mhm." falling from your lips though it sort of sounded like a mix between a hum and a whine, you were failing so horribly at keeping your little secret inside.
"show me then."
you'd done this with ellie before, giggles falling from the bedroom door as you attempted to pin ellie down but right now felt so different. the air was off and the tension was rising.
at first, you tried to play it off. you playfully grabbed at her wrist, trying to push her onto the bed. usually, she'd let you win. she loved to see that victorious smirk on your face after she let you beat her. in the back of your head you'd know, though. you could never beat ellie.
but this time, she didn't let you win.
this time, she flipped your wrists and then you completely. your eyes widened when you realised how strong she was. you always knew she was strong, don't get me wrong but never had you been pinned down by her with such force behind her hands. you felt your face heat up and your stomach swirl as the girl landed above you, her head looking down at you with a smirk playing on her lips.
this time, she won.
"whatever." with a little shove, you manged to push her off. she let you, grinning as she sat back on the bed, pride swelling in her chest as she watched you flusteredly try to hide your face. "i have to go shower."
"good." she joked, watching you get up from the bed. "you fucking stink." she watched you grin and stick your tongue out at her, she did the very same in response, watching you enter your bathroom with clothes that had been sitting on your chair now in your hands.
and then, she was alone.
you'd done this the other day, about a week ago and everything changed. it was the day that ellie did the very thing she swore she'd never do and yet she did it anyway.
she just couldn't help herself.
when you were in the bathroom, showering, she'd reached over to the nightstand to look at the photograph you had on it, you and her, icecream on her nose and smeared on your cheek. a week ago, she'd grinned at it, thinking it was the most heartwarming thing she'd seen in months. then, her eyes had glanced to the little pink book that lay beneath it.
a month ago, she'd swear she'd never go near the thing, ever.
a week ago, she opened it and her eyes scanned the page.
she hadn't had any bad intentions, not really. she was just curious as to what you wrote about, what you were keeping so hidden from your dear, beloved best friend. and when she started, she couldn't stop. she soon realised that the lovely words scrawled across the page weren't about how the sunlight peeked through the clouds or how the rain fell into the puddles collected on the ground. the words were about her.
soon enough, she'd made herself believe that if the words were about her, surely, she should be allowed to read it, it was only right.
she waited until the batrhoom door closed before she reached over to the side of the bed. she knew it was wrong, so wrong, it was an invasion of privacy and she knew you'd probably burst into tears if you'd seen it. but you know what they say, curiosity kills the cat.
she placed the book on the bed, attempting to pick up where she left off.
i just can't help but like her!! what does any of this meannnn??? you don't touch someone like that as a friend, you don't call your 'friends' names like that, it's not normal!! i'm reading into this. i always fucking do this, i read into it and then bam! that's it! i'm gonna loose her to this stupid crush. it's not a crush, i think i'm in love with her. no, i can't be. it's a silly crush and it'll be gone in a day. EVEN THOUGH IT'S BEEN YEARS!! i hate myself and the only option is to throw myself off of a fucking cli―
"els, i think i left my―" she'd never shut something so fast in her entire life. ellie's wide eyes shot up, looking at you standing in the front of the bathroom doorway. "w-what are you doing?" you'd barely registered what'd happened, your eyes already burning.
"shit." there really was no way of defending herself. you'd caught her red handed with the book sitting on the bed. "darling, i didn't―"
"you read it." you deadpanned, feeling the tears begin to well up in your eyes. "you read it, you promised me you wouldn't read it!"
but ellie was already standing from the bed, discarding the book completely. "i know, angel, i know, i'm sorry i jus―"
she was attempting to race to the other side of the room, get to you and presumably comfort you. she couldn't stand the tears in your eyes. "do you know?" that you've been helplessly in love with her the past four years and running? her silence gave a response but not one that you were particularly happy with. "do you know?"
her voice was a meak whisper. "yeah, baby, i know."
humiliation, embarrassment, shame,
all you could feel.
you'd been helplessly and hopelessly in love with ellie for as long as time yet never have you truly worried about it getting back to her. dina knew but she'd never squeal, neither would jesse if he knew what was good for him.
that little pink book didn't just know briefly of this 'fleeting crush' it knew everything, every minor detail. ellie consumed the pages, every pen stroke had her name on it. you were sure that the book knew more about this crush than you could ever grasp.
"hey, hey, don't cry." she was up in your face, hands attempting to hold your face, soothing you gently. "hey, i'm sorry, i'm sorry." she kept repeating everything but nothing could stop the way your lip wobbled and your eyes filled to the brim, the dam breaking as a fat tear rolled down your cheek. "okay, just―"
ellie was panicking. she knew how you could get, once you started crying it was damn near impossible to get you to stop. the way your lip trembled served as a constant reminder that she had been the one to put you in this situation, she had made you cry.
before you could even thin, there was a big black book being shoved in your hands. you didn't think to look down, mind to foggy and far away but ellie was already opening it up for you. "angel, look, see?" finally, you pulled your eyes away from the little pink book on your bed, eyes trailing down to the sketchbook. ellie briefly flickered through the pages, your brows pinched together. were they... drawings of you? "i do it too, see?" had anyone ever put their heart on the line merely to get you to stop crying? no. then again, nobody else had ever been quite like ellie williams.
you sniffled, glancing at one of the pictures. it looked so real, as if you were looking at yourself right now, eyes shut and lips sort of smashed against the pillow. "am i sleeping?" you sniffled, mouth sort of dry.
ellie found herself a dark crimson. "well―yeah." she only now realised what she'd done. she just wanted you to stop crying, she didn't think of what she was doing to herself, outing herself like that. then again, it was only right as she'd outed you before.
you swallowed thickly, wiping the tears away with your sleeve. "'s really stalkerish, els." you mumbled and she couldn't help but grin at you.
"i'm really sorry." her voice low enough to have you glancing up at her, straining your ears. "i shouldn't have read it."
you nodded your head. "you shouldn't have." but you couldn't help but feel a little weight lift off your chest. she knew now, at least you'd no longer have to hide it.
once again it left you wondering where you stood.
ellie could see the way your eyes went sort of foggy, blocking her out. she wondered what you were thinking now. "y/n?"
finally, you pulled your eyes away from the ground, looking at her perfect green eyes.
"i love you too."
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main masterlist/ellie's masterlist
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denwritesandcries · 6 months
Text
Work of Art – Hazel Callahan
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Pairing: loser!hazel x artist!reader
Summary: You join a fight club just to spend more time with your pretty friend, Hazel Callahan. The fact that you're running out of time to finish an art project is just a detail.
Word count: 3,5k.
Content: loser!hazel trying to be smooth, sylvie being a chaotic ala, cursing, flirting, mutual pining, friends to lovers, my questionable comedy, a little blood at the start, reader is a SIMP.
A/N: This came up to me after the ‘these girls are ugly’ scene and I had to make a dramatic story about it. I'm so soft for this character, I just wanna hold her and tell her how beautiful she is.
English is not my first language.
There's a sketchbook opened on your lap, a coal pencil on your hand and a fight happening in front of you.
Technically, that's what you were supposed to be doing too – fighting with someone – it was fight club, after all. Instead, you were sitting against a wall, hastily trying to finish a sketch for your art club project.
In your defense, you weren't even going to join this self-defense club in the first place, having been quite happy just occupying yourself with your art club after school, but your friend Sylvie came up to you one day completely excited about the idea, saying that she really wanted to participate, but that to keep going they needed more members and there enters you.
You said no right away, claiming that you would end up getting overwhelmed trying to balance both clubs with all the meetings, but Sylvie could be so convincing – more like insistent – with her methods, even shouting "PLEASE COME!" in a hallway full of people during classes, that you ended up giving in to when it became too embarrassing. Therefore, you agreed to go to a meeting without the promise of staying.
You regretted that decision and swore to burn Sylvie’s stupid beanie in the first punch that hitted you. You were terrible at fighting.
After being beaten up by a girl you didn't even know the name of, you ended up with a split lip and a bruise forming on your cheek and were ready to go find your friend and gently let her down by telling her that this really wasn't your thing, that is until Hazel Callahan approaches you.
Hazel. The same Hazel who sat three seats away from you in history class for four years, with whom you usually paired up during assignments but didn't talk much. The same Hazel who is standing in front of you with a weird smile and a washcloth in her hand.
“Uh…” you start, not quite sure what to say, “Do you need anything?”
"Oh!" She seems to realize that she's been silent and staring at you for too long, shaking her head, "No, not really, but you looked like you needed it," Hazel holds out the washcloth to you.
You notice that she's doing her best to look casual, shrugging her shoulders with fake indifference and pointing to your bleeding lip with the hand holding the cloth while the other is stuffed into the pocket of her baggy, ripped jeans. The sight is so captivating that it makes you smile even when you don’t want to, with the sudden feeling that you two should interact more.
“Oh, what a gentleman," you joke when you accept and take the cloth from her hand and are happy with the fact that the fabric is dark when your blood stains it, "You came to comfort me after spending all this time watching my ass being kicked?"
Her eyes widened in panic and Hazel squealed like an alarmed puppy, "No!" She exclaims, "I didn't mean that, really. It's just that you seemed upset and I–"
“Haze, it’s okay,” you interrupt and reassure her with a gentle hand on her arm, “I’m just messing with you.”
She shakes her head, still in denial, her face red: "But you weren't that bad."
You snort, any trace of upset seeming to leave your body, “But it was bad.”
Hazel looks away from you while playing with the rings on one of her hands, she seems to want to tell you something, so you wait in silence until she has the courage.
"So…" she starts, "Are you staying? At the club, I mean."
'No,' you want to say, 'This place is completely chaotic, I have other things I'd like to do and I bet I'll get my ass kicked every time I go up against someone here.' But Hazel is looking at you with her head cocked to the side and bright, hopeful blue eyes and what kind of monster would you be to deny something and wipe that look off her face?
“Maybe.” you answer instead, an uncertain smile on your face, “I’m still thinking about it.”
That seems to be enough to satisfy her and you quickly turn around, putting the bloodstained cloth inside your backpack and packing your things to leave when you realize that you two were the only ones left in the place.
"Walk with me?" You nod towards the exit for Hazel to follow you and she does so shyly.
As you walk around the school grounds your bodies are close enough that your shoulders touch as you walk and the interaction brings you a surprising amount of comfort.
"You know," Hazel starts again, her voice at a high pitch, she clears her throat with a fist against her mouth before continuing, "You don't have to if you don't want to, but uh–" Hazel stutters, face red again, "It would be really nice if you stayed.”
You turn your head to look at her side face, her nervous attitude warming your heart in a jarring way and you suddenly wonder why you and Hazel have never been closer before, even though you've technically known each other for so many years. It seemed almost unfair to be deprived of her company for so long.
“This fighting thing really isn’t for me,” you shrugged and continued before a look of disappointment could wash over her, “But I think people make it worth coming back for.”
You hoped she would notice the flirting tone in your words; Hazel could be terrible at reading between the lines.
"Oh, you're right!" She replied with an excited smile, "I managed to make a lot of friends there since it started, maybe you can too!”
You raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for Hazel to realize what she said just to tease her, and she did, panicking.
"I didn't mean that you don't have friends!" She shouted with a wave of her arms, "I just– I just–"
Hazel's calm facade falls completely and you feel a laugh grow in your chest as you laugh openly. She takes a moment to compose herself before relaxing a little when she sees that you're not bothered.
"Okay, got it." you say with a final giggle, "Don't worry, I'll show up since it would be so nice if I stayed."
Sure, she may not have understood your flirting the first time, but her red face up to her ears and shy gaze stuck on the floor could only be an indication that she had now caught on.
When you reach the point where your paths part, you can't resist talking to Hazel one last time:
"Haze," You call in a relaxed tone as she heads to her car, "Is that really a women's empowerment club?"
Hazel smiles as she opens the door, without any nervousness this time, "I have no idea, but I like it."
You think you might like it too if you were going to see her like this more often.
When you get home that day, with your untouched art supplies weighing down your backpack, there's a message on your phone left from Sylvie. That little bastard had left without you even noticing.
slaygirl:
hey what u throught about the club
*thouth
sHIT
*thought
runned right home when I saw your mad face lol
You snorted with a roll of eyes. You had already made the decision anyway, there was no point in actually being mad at her.
you:
well I guess is not THAT bad
I'll make the sacrifice and participate
slaygirl:
HELL YEAH LET'S GOOO
told u would like it
You ask yourself one last time if you should really do this or not; the times between the fight club and art club meetings were so close together, it could easily turn into a mess. Then you think about Hazel and the way she seemed enchanted by the idea of you being there.
Fuck it, you thought, you can handle both.
You couldn't handle both. That was why you found yourself against that wall now, running out of time and without the proper sketches you were supposed to present later.
It was a relatively simple exercise that you had to do: draw everyday landscapes in charcoal pencil by sight. The problem is that you didn't have time to draw the requested amount and you haven't had much inspiration other than classrooms and parts of the school lately.
Luckily, no one really minded when you decided to opt to just be a spectator today; PJ and Josie being too busy flirting with Brittany and Isabel and Sylvie being just excited about getting into a fight with someone.
"And what are you doing there?" Hazel's voice scares you as she sits down next to you with a curious look and a small smile at the sound of your surprised squeak.
You had no idea where she had come from, having quickly talked to her as soon as you arrived and then gone straight to your task, but you were very happy to have her there now. You've been getting closer over the last few weeks since joining the club, just as you wanted, which has made all of your juggling between tasks totally worth it.
"Shouldn't you be beating up someone?" You dodged the question, giving her a look of fake reprimand.
She scoffed with a hand gesture, "I'll be right there, I just passed by to check on you," She pointed with her chin to the notebook with you, "So?”
You shrug, "Just trying to finish this project, but nothing seems to make me want to draw." You turn the sketchbook so Hazel can see the simple outline of the open area in which you practice defense, your hands are stained with coal pencil and the sheet is messy with outlines of bodies overlapping the paper.
For the confused look on her face and the slight tilt of her head, you can tell Hazel doesn't quite understand what you mean, but she gives you a reassuring smile anyway.
"You're talented, I'm sure you'll figure that out soon."
You feel a stupid smile growing on your face and you can't help the way your voice softens, "Thanks, Haze."
She returns your smile for a moment, but quickly looks away, seeming to want to break off the interaction.
Hazel breaks the silence that suddenly settles in: “Will you teach me?”, she asks.
You look at her confused, “What? Drawing?”
“Hm-hm,” She nods with a pout, “I always see you drawing during class and I'm terrible at it.”
You find her extremely captivating.
“Okay,” you snort, “I’ll give you drawing lessons if you give me fighting lessons. You’re better at this than me, than everyone here, actually.”
And then she gets nervous again, cheeks colored a soft red, stammering, “Oh– I– hm, alright.”
You think maybe she's going to say something more, but Hazel gets up and shakes her head like a puppy and your heart warms, before saying goodbye, giving you an awkward pat on the shoulder and running off to find a partner for the day's exercises.
A sigh leaves your chest as your gaze follows her as she walks, deciding to watch a little until you get the courage to finish your work.
Hazel is paired with a girl you had never spoken to but who you were sure was in your English class. A very pretty girl, by the way. It annoyed you how close they were and the way Hazel touched the girl so she could fix her position before they started fighting, the same way she did to you when you asked for help with your movements the other day; and it annoyed you even more the way the girl seemed to lean into her touch, exactly like you did on the few occasions when Hazel touched you for more than a few seconds.
Damn, you wish you knew the girl's name so you could actually get mad.
Your stomach turned uncomfortably the more you watched the duo, didn't that girl know that Hazel is... what? Your girlfriend? Your friend who you flirt with? This was practically the same as nothing. You had nothing. You couldn't be mad.
But man, you are annoyed.
With a shake of your head, you look away from the scene and open your sketchbook again, this time to a clean page. Better get back to work.
When you look up again, Hazel has the girl trapped in her arms. The way her best features are marked is unfairly hot, your silly jealousy ends up forgotten in favor of admiring how beautiful she is.
Unconsciously, you begin to trace the outline of her strong jaw onto the paper, letting the simple body outline you had begun take shape.
To you, Hazel was a work of art in every sense of the word, from her appearance to her most unusual mannerisms. Everything about her seemed to scream art and drawing her was an extremely satisfying action. It wasn't even the first time you had portrayed her, having made small sketches during the times you worked together in class and given them all to her – you wish you had kept at least one now –, maybe that's why she asked you for lessons anyway.
Either way, anything involving Hazel is more interesting than your original project.
You notice the way her hair falls over her face, the dark color contrasting with her big blue eyes, and you think it's a shame you didn't bring any supplies you could use to color them. There is a small cut where a yellowish bruise is on her cheek; Hazel seemed to always be recovering from some injury, even though she was the one who won most of the fights, not that you would count – liar, you did.
You draw the outline of her nose and lips with the practiced precision of someone who has done this many times before; she's wearing a dark green button-down shirt, one of your favorites on her, along with baggy black jeans and an old pair of vans; her hands are missing their usual rings and there are little green dinosaurs in her socks.
You won't add all of it, of course, it's not a full body drawing, but you can't help but notice every little detail about her.
Time passes without you noticing, your project remains completely forgotten while you draw Hazel from memory, no longer needing to turn to the annoying vision of her and the other girl. When the meeting is almost finished, Sylvie approaches you smiling and looks over your shoulder.
"Dude!" She exclaims in a knowing tone, “So that’s why you actually agreed to join the club!”
“Shh girl, do you want everyone here to know!?” You whisper-shouting and quickly pull the beanie she was wearing over her nose tightly, ignoring the chocked ‘fucking rude’ that Sylvie lets out.
“You should tell her,” Sylvie declares, because of course she would understand right away that you have a crush.
“What?" You ask, alarmed, “Like right now?”
"Yeah!" She pushes your shoulder in encouragement, “The day is almost over, it’s not like we have anything else to do anyway.” Sylvie shrugged, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
“I can’t just go there and tell.” You mumble, “And I have things to do.”
“Oh, come on! I’m sure she likes you back!”
“And how can you know that?” You asked.
“How come you don’t know that?” Sylvie replied, “It’s kinda obvious.”
“Okay, whatever you say, but I’m not going to tell her anything now.” You insist stubbornly.
Sylvie looks like she's about to say something else, but a tricksy smile forms on her face when she sees someone approaching.
"Tell what?" Hazel's voice coming from nearby startles you and when you turn your face to find her, she's alone, no sign of the other girl in sight.
You were about to stutter something in response – and most likely make a fool of yourself – but Sylvie was quicker.
“Oh!” Your friend exclaims in false innocence, “I was trying to convince her to show you her drawing, but she’s such a perfectionist.”
You elbow her in panic and Sylvie lightly tugs at your hair as she stands up; you don't notice the dirty look Hazel gives to the interaction, wringing her hands in her pockets.
Sylvie walks away arching her eyebrows in a suggestive expression at you and your cheeks burn at the implication as Hazel takes her place beside you.
“So…” she begins, her voice strangely tense, “Did you finish what you were drawing? Can I see it?"
“Well…” You feel nervous, there’s no way to get out of this without making her sad and that’s the last thing you would want to do. Taking a deep breath, you decide to go ahead: “Inspiration came to and I drew something, but it’s not for my project, I don’t know if you’ll like it.”
"Yes, I will!" Hazel adjusts herself excitedly, your knees touching, “Can I see it?” she repeats.
You gulp and nod, turning the sketchbook towards her. Hazel lens even closer to you to see the result, her chin brushing your shoulder and a hand running up your back and resting there, surprising you, you feel the coldness of her hand and the outline of her rings – when she did put them back? – through the fabric of your t-shirt.
You feel the moment Hazel registers the drawing on the sheet and her breath hitches, the action sending a shiver up your spine.
"Then?" You ask nervously, “What do you think?”
But Hazel remains silent. When you turn to look at her, her jaw is dropped in complete disbelief and a deep blush covers her face from her cheeks to her ears.
“Haze?” You call, unsure.
“That’s– it’s beautiful.” She stutters, one hand delicately touches the paper, coal staining her fingers, “It’s me. It’s me… beautiful.”
“You are beautiful,” you correct without hesitation and Hazel’s gaze turns to you, “That’s nothing compared to you.”
She hesitates for a moment, “Why did you do that?”
"Why?" You echo, “You know why.”
And Hazel knows. You know she knows. There hasn't been a single day that the two of you haven't flirted, that there hasn't been this tension between you. There's no way she doesn't know, but someone needs to admit it.
She looks at you expectantly, the same lovely hope as before is back in her eyes, and again, who are you to take that look off her face?
You sigh, “I have a crush on you, Haze.”
She snorts, voice shaking in a confident attempt of a joke: “I know.”
You raise an eyebrow and give her an unimpressed look and Hazel immediately backtracks.
"Sorry! Sorry!" She exclaims, “I just– I like you too, a lot.”
You feel a smile tugging at your lips when you put the notebook and pencil aside to look at her fully and your faces are so close that you would only have to lean in for your lips to touch. God, you've never wanted something so much before.
You notice every little detail of her face; a fallen eyelash on her cheek, the faint marks of dark circles over her eyes, freckles over her nose that you had never gotten close enough before to see.
Hazel looks at you like she can't believe what's happening and honestly, neither can you.
“Please,” she whispers, eyes locked on your lips.
Hazel Callahan was the most beautiful work of art you had ever seen and as an artist, you know you should never touch artworks, but Hazel asks you and you could never deny her anything.
Your lips meet and it's softer than you thought it could be – even though you've thought about it many times then – and your hands rest on her cheeks like they belong there, she lets out a sigh of contentment that warms your heart.
When you pull away, there's a coal stain on Hazel's face from where your hand was before and her pupils are dilated like dark pits, it's unfair the way it makes your heart skip a beat.
She kisses you again, shorter this time and you would have chased her lips if it weren't for someone's voice scaring you:
“ATTA GIRL, I TOLD YOU YOU COULD DO IT!” Sylvie is on the other side of the gym, cheering and pointing at you.
You had completely forgotten that the meeting wasn't over yet.
“Dude,” PJ starts on the other side, “When did this happend?”
“You know this is a public space right?” Josie asks with a hand on her hip, “Don’t make out here, man.”
You shake your head in amusement and start to gather your things, “Okay, okay,” you say, “Let’s make out somewhere else then, come on Haze.”
Hazel seems too flustreaded to speak and doesn't argue as you take her hand and pull her along as you leave to the sounds of your friends cheering and joking.
“Where are we going?” She asks, you’re still holding hands.
You shrug innocently, “I promised you drawing lessons, didn’t I?”
In the end you don't show up at the art club that day, too busy spending time with your newest girlfriend and it's totally worth it.
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zarla-s · 6 months
Note
i forget if you ever said before, but how much of handplates was planned from the beginning and what was added as you went?
Almost all of it pretty early on, haha. Well, at least the main plotpoints...
I knew Sans would push Gaster into the core (not exactly how but I knew it'd happen)
I knew the brothers would stay with Asgore for a while afterwards to adjust to normal life
Knew the brothers would slowly grow and mature into their canon forms while aligning with canon itself (befriending Undyne and Alphys etc) although not the specifics of it
Knew there'd be a murder run that'd get reset and a pacifist run after
Knew Gaster would come back (not exactly how) and the brothers would have a final confrontation where they'd show they were adults now with the strength to face and fight him/their trauma and they'd eventually convince him to come back and try again
I knew a lot of the main points but not how to tie them together exactly or their exact execution, that came as I went along. As an example, shots of Asgore with the brothers were VERY early in my sketchbook... you can see me sketching out some of the layouts for the one with Gaster trying to get Papyrus to kill something at the bottom.
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I was drawing Asgore from memory, that's why he looks off, haha. There are also sketches both for Gaster facing off with the monster (although I hadn't worked out exactly what the monster would be at that point), them back in the lab/finding the drill in Gaster's house, and Sans sassing Gaster on the same page about ten pages later in my sketchbook. I also knew that World Revolution was set in the Handplates timeline when I did it but I didn't tell anyone since it'd be huge spoilers at the time lol.
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So you can see I was working out multiple parts of the story at the same time, haha. Some of my one-shot ideas got scrapped or reworked, but the basic shape of it stayed intact throughout. A lot of sections had a lot of wiggle room as they came to me - them in the lab, them with Asgore, them in their house, them on the surface, that kind of thing. So what happened during those times and how long I'd spend there I didn't know for sure, I just knew the basic shape of the story and where I was going eventually. It was an interesting way to do it! I had a lot of freedom to run with any sudden idea for the most part, but I also always had a direction and plan for where I was going.
I had absolutely no idea it'd be this long or take this long to finish though lol.
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retrocesosdestacion · 8 months
Text
SOCIALIZING PROBLEMS. | mapi león
mapi león x reader
genre: not fluff at all, accidental confession, teenager love.
warnings: a bit of headcanon, reader being a stupid curious, mapi confessing unintentionally, also mapi being an assertive/passive person.
notes: i had this prompt when i was cooking an egg. dios im really sorry for making u guys wait too long, also i feel like this is the worst writing I've ever done in my life.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You are secretly Mapi's love and you have negative impressions about her.
But that ended when Maria accidentally left her sketchbook on the bench at the locker room.
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“ If I had a flower for every time I thought of you... I could walk through my garden forever. ”
Tennyson.
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❝ Damn. Mapi, you should become an artist. ❞ From the other side of the locker room, you could hear Pina's lips praising the spanish's drawings once again.
It was already the fifth time that day that someone had praised the scribbles in that notebook. And you too, but only in your head. You didn't even have the courage to go there and see the drawings.
Two years ago you were transferred to Barcelona. Everything was normal, you made friends, adapted to the Spain style, adapted to new rules.
But you didn't adapt to Maria León. You didn't have the slightest ability to go up to her and have a chat lasting more than two minutes.
Normally you just greet her, that's when you don't even look at her face. Anyone who saw the two of you together would pinky swear that hated each other.
This was all because in your little mind, Mapi had the greatest disinterest in you. After all, you came to this conclusion when you noticed that the defender always ran away from the conversation when you arrives.
However, over time, you accepted this treatment from the spanish woman, even if you were curious to understand the player. You even told this whole situation to Ona, your best friend.
But it was always the same dilemma: “Relax, she’s shy. “ or “ Mapi has difficulty meeting new people. “
Yet that never made sense, after all, Mapi is anything but bashful.
It became a huge snowball since you never bothered to go talk to her. Therefore, currently your relationship with Mapi is completely lacking affection.
And it was just with you.
Claudia, for example, was one of the lucky ones. She was glued to the blonde's side, attentively observing each page of the spanish woman's small notebook with the greatest freedom and comfort.
At that moment, the defender had both feet on the bench, so she could rest the notebook on her knees. Mapi slowly leafed through the drawings for her friend once again.
❝ Yo ya te dije, who knows in a few years. ❞ (I already told you.) León reply to the other spanish woman's compliment with a very hopeful tone, as part of her dream was to be a tattoo artist.
As always, you just looked at the two girls talking, as you sat, untying your boots.
❝ If you look for longer, you will have bad luck. ❞ Ona mocked your indeterminate stare. ❝ If you’re so interested, go there. ❞ She states while taking off her training uniform.
❝ Madness. She doesn't like me and you want me to suddenly get there? ❞ You threw those words into the air so quickly that Ona took a while to formulate something.
❝ Why do you think she hates you? ❞ Your friend countered.
❝ I've told you thousands of times, Ona. She looks at me dirty, ignores me, she doesn't even want to talk to me even though I'm her training partner! ❞ You justify while gesturing nervously.
❝ Stop being fucking neurotic. ❞ The spanish woman rolled her eyes, finishing putting on her post-workout clothes. ❝ Ve allí, siéntate a su lado y descubrirás por qué te trata así. ❞ (Go there, sit next to her and you will find out why she treats you like that.) Ona stated.
You only knew the basics of spanish, deciphering what the defender had said would take a while. ❝ Huh, what? Find out what? ❞
Ona didn't respond, just giving you a stupid smile and a wink.
Slowly, the oldest left your side and walked towards Mapi and Claudia. The moment she got there, Batlle poked Pina's shoulder and approached, murmuring something in her ear.
❝ What the fuck are you doing?! ❞ You whispered to yourself, automatically standing up; scared and surprised.
Suddenly, you felt the greatest penetration of looking in your direction: Claudia Pina looked at you as if she knew all your secrets, giving you chills.
She smiled a huge and mischievous smile, raised her arm and waved it, calling you over.
Before you went, the only thing you observed was Mapi's embarrassed and awkward manner, grumbling at the two spanish women for calling you.
You thought for seconds before taking the step to go there. A whirlwind of thoughts ran through your mind, like a river heading straight for the waterfall.
What if you are a nuisance to her? What if she leaves the moment you get there?
You were very worried about the relationship with someone you don't even are intimate with.
You worry about the image you give to a person that don't even want to be your friend.
Thus, your heart began to run a marathon from the moment you started your very slow steps towards Mapi León.
Maybe you were afraid of hurting her, but at the same time yourself. As if your feelings were bubbling for the defender and you didn't want to ruin everything.
In your peripheral vision, the only notable details were María closing her notebook as quickly as a middle school student after the last bell, Claudia and Ona smiling goofily and pointing at the defender.
❝ What was it? ❞ Those were your first words when you reached the other side of the locker room, completely looking away from Mapi and just focusing on the other two.
❝ You're the only one on the team who hasn't seen Mapi's drawings, right? ❞ Claudia gave the first word, pushing León's shoulder with her elbow.
You didn't even bother to answer correctly, just opening a painful smile.
❝ Yes, I think so. ❞
After you responded, Mapi frowned, rolling her eyes. This only made you more certain that León actually hated you.
❝ But there's no need to show it. I mean, I'm not interested. ❞ They were the stupidest words that came out of your mouth.
The shine in Mapi's eyes slowly faded with each word that left your lips, the spanish woman's fingers ran to the back of her neck, uncomfortable. At this point, you should be sure that you almost hurt the girl.
❝ Don't be like that. Come on Mapi, show it. ❞ Ona finally said something in the midst of the discomfort of that conversation, lightly patting the other spanish woman on the head.
❝ I'll show you later, I need to pack my things. ❞ Maria came up with the most false excuse possible, since her things were almost one hundred percent ready. León's fingers rested on the slap, giving Ona a dirty look.
Your eyes fell on Claudia and Ona, indignant at all of this.
But you didn't know why. It wasn't as if the lack of communication between two companions would cause such great discomfort.
There was something more, you could feel it. Such something else that even Ona hides from you.
❝ Dios mío, esto es horrible. You two look like children who don't know how to talk to each other. ❞ (Oh my god, this is horrible.) Claudia gave her opinion amidst the silence.
❝ Son como dos chicas enojadas. ❞ (They're like two stupid girls. ) Batlle added.
Mapi stood up delicately, pulling the bag that was previously on the floor to the bench and opening it. ❝ Could you two shut up and get out of here, wouldn't you? ❞
The spontaneous rudeness really took you by surprise, mainly because the defender was staring at the other two, but not at you.
Pina raised her hands in defense, expressing a mere comical sadness on her face. ❝ Right. ❞
The same thing for Ona, who reached for the strap of her sports bag and put it on her left shoulder. ❝ Come on, Claudia. And don't be stupid with [reader]. ❞
❝ Que se jodan ustedes dos. ❞ (Fuck you two.) Mapi grumbled as she mock-rifled through her clothes.
Ona grabbed Claudia's arm and pulled her tightly to her feet, slowly dispersing herself from you and Mapi over time, killing the last few minutes. ❝ See you later, [reader]. ❞
Your eyes screamed for help to leave together, following the two girls until they left the main door.
Okay, now you were alone with the girl you were most afraid of.
Gradually, some people and groups would leave within minutes. Silence now, which had previously been scattered conversations, was prevailing, and that was delicious on the one hand.
After all, you loved being alone at times like this. But not with Maria.
You continued standing until Mapi offered you the bench next to her, and you did so. When you laid eyes on the spanish woman, you noticed her fingers pressing against her own temples, circling fingerprints there.
❝ I'm sorry about them. They are two idiots. ❞ León murmured as she took her fingers back to the bag, closing the zipper.
❝ Alright, no problem. I'm used to it. ❞ You responded with a typical defensive tone, unaccustomed to this type of conversation with her.
Your fingers tapped upper thigh, nervous and anxious, waiting for some miracle.
Momentarily, the spanish woman's brown globes rested on you, followed by a big sigh.
❝ I'm sorry if I'm stupid with you. And it's also bad if I didn't show you the drawings, it's just that— ❞ The defender was interrupted when Patri shouted her name.
❝ Hey, Mapi! ❞ The spanish woman appeared through the door of the main hallway. ❝ Can you check for me if my boots are dropped on the field? ❞
Maria looked at you with a roll of her optics, also accompanied by a tiny and shy smile. ❝ I'll be right back. ❞
The spanish woman slowly went to the gate that connected the changing room and the field, leaving you there freely in the area.
A dead silence remained there, there was no one else but the two of you inside that locker room, and now, only you.
Your body was still warm from training, but it could be for countless reasons, maybe because of your sudden meeting with Mapi, because of the fear of everything that happens in other conversations, happening now.
Eyes slowly took in every detail of the locker room: the ceiling, the floor, all the other stalls and even your bag on the other side.
But your orbs left for your side, where Mapi's unopened bag accidentally was. And of course, the damn sketchbook.
No, no. This is terrible, a lack of privacy. Your desire to leaf through that notebook was greater, but you should be aware.
It was only a matter of time before Mapi came back and finally opened that notebook, there was no point in leafing through it before then.
But despite everything, you were a very, very curious person.
❝ Damn. ❞ You muttered to yourself, intertwining your fingers so that you unconsciously wouldn't reach for the notebook.
But, well... Your eyes darted from side to side, making sure Maria wasn't there.
Your hand rested on the notebook, at the same time your heart accelerated so quickly as a result of your comportment. You should go back.
Slowly, you opened it enough so you could peek at the drawings. Incredibly, they were drawings of outlooks and Mapi's cats.
Despite everything, it wasn't that bad. ❝ Damn. ❞ You mumbled.
Suddenly, a folded sheet of paper fell from the middle of the pages of the notebook, falling to the floor. Your face produced a confused expression until the moment you reached the sheet.
At the same time that you were almost putting the sheet back from where it had fallen, you unfolded it.
Your heartbeat increased from the moment you caught sight of your name written there, along with a drawing of yourself and several doodles in the surrounding area.
Initials together, stick drawings of the two of you together that you were sure Claudia and Ona had scribbled, your name was written in every color there was.
There, maybe you realized why Mapi never showed you the notebook. Why Mapi hated being by your side when she was with the girls.
You could feel your face burn, turning red little by little, until it was like a pepper.
Immediately, you threw your hands up to your face, along with the sheet. You breathed once, twice and three times until you understood the situation.
❝ Shit. ❞ You mumbled to yourself with a muffled tone, still with your face hidden in your hands.
Your body slowly slid down the cabin wall, rethinking all the impressions you always had of Mapi.
You folded the sheet back and hid it in the notebook again.
Suddenly, Maria's figure slowly appeared in the locker room, mainly due to the sound of her footsteps.
Your torso rose, you became so desperate that you completely forgot to let go of the notebook in your hand.
Mapi slowly stopped walking and stopped in the middle of the locker room the moment her eyes fell on your hand with the notebook.
Slowly, her lips opened ready to say something. However, the spanish's internal desperation probably prevented this.
❝ I didn't see anything, I swear. ❞ Was the only thing you could say before throwing the notebook back onto the bench and waving your hands in defense.
Maria completely changed her route, walking quickly towards you. The moment she reached you, the player grabbed your hands and squeezed.
❝ Puedo explicarlo, en serio. ❞ (I can explain it, seriously.) Mapi stuttered between words and even forgot to say them in english.
The spanish woman's face didn't even bother to hide her embarrassment. You could feel the player's fingers trembling and of course, the strong desire to cry.
❝ I thought it was cute. ❞ In the midst of all the tension, these were your stupid words. Giving a short smile, which perhaps calmed León.
❝ What? ❞ Mapi asked, raising one of her eyebrows.
❝ The drawing. ❞
❝ But you said you didn't see anything. ❞ Maybe you didn't expect her to be so naive.
❝ I'm not going to lie, I saw everything. ❞ You answer with a defensive intonation, after all, you had no idea what would happen from now on. ❝ Even those scribbles on the sid— ❞
❝ That was the girls idea. ❞ Mapi justified it so quickly, was probably true.
It was at that moment that you realized that María León was not angry or disgusted with you. Mapi was actually in love with you and was ashamed to admit it.
This all explained the insults and scandals she made whenever the girls played with her. You were the concern of all the jokes.
❝ Right. First breathe. ❞ You advised the spanish girl to calm down, after all, she was shaking more than anything.
❝ Let me explain, please. I don't want you to get it wrong. ❞ Mapi begged to hold an explaination.
❝ Go ahead. ❞
❝ I'm not some kind of stalker, okay? I only drew you because, well… Because I like you and I thought you were pretty. ❞ The defender gets confused in her own words.
You were sure that wasn't what she wanted, Mapi didn't want to confess like that stupid way.
❝ But I completely understand if you think I'm crazy like that... ❞ Mapi slowly closed her eyes, trying to throw all the despair inside. ❝ Dios mío, ¿qué carajo estoy diciendo? ❞ (Oh my god, what the fuck am I saying?)
❝ Hey, it's okay... I guess. ❞ You tried to calm down from the moment you felt León's fingers slowly slip from your hands.
Your mind enfolded the sight of Mapi in front of you, it was the only thing you could pay attention to.
Heart felling affliction, a feeling full of pity for the whole situation that Maria went through made you think a lot.
While you had the wrong impression of her, Mapi couldn't control own feelings.
❝ I don't know what to say about all this. ❞ You produced a sentence where you could try to be understandable with it. ❝ I thought you hated me. ❞
❝ What? Why?! ❞ León was really shocked.
❝ Huh… You always sounded or looked ignorant to me. But it wasn't bad, I had the wrong impression. ❞ Your lips moved automatically, everything you kept about her these two years finally escaped.
Mapi gave a short smile, perhaps your words sounded funny. ❝ Yo nunca debí contarles a Ona y Claudia sobre ti. ❞ (I should never have told Ona and Claudia about you.) The spanish woman muttered to herself, but you still understood.
❝ And now knowing that you like me was such a turning point. ❞ You explained yourself without letting go of Mapi's hands for a second. ❝ By the way, about that… ❞
❝ No need to explain yourself, I'll understand if you don't reply— ❞
❝ No. I want it. I mean, I think you won my heart after seeing your drawings. ❞ Your typical comedic tone caused few laughs between the two of you.
❝ And also, it really hurt me to get the impression that you hated me. I've been making you a fool all this time. ❞ You continued.
Mapi León paid attention to every word that left your lips. There, you noticed how the player stopped shaking and stuttering, finally taking comfort.
❝ No. I understand, I would have that impression too if I saw all of this. ❞
❝ But I hope we can go back and start over from scratch. ❞ You looked for the solution.
Despite everything, Mapi was very understandable with words, she just needed time to express herself.
Suddenly, León's brown orbs looked to the side, perhaps worried about something. ❝ I think we better go, I need to tell Patri about the boots. ❞
Mapi let go of your hands, and for a moment you didn't like that feeling. The spanish woman's fingerprints grabbed the famous intriguing notebook, putting it back in her bag.
Initially she carried the bag on her shoulder, waiting for you to do the same. Your feet lifted and strained toward your own bag, but immediately returned to Mapi's side.
❝ If you want to start from scratch, come with me. I'll stop at a coffee shop before heading home. ❞ León opened a genuine smile, extending her right hand towards you.
You got the signal, and you did it. Your long fingerprints met Mapi's, intertwining them.
❝ Yes, please. ❞
Maybe you should leave everything in the hands of time and, gingerly, the two of you would transform disagreements into affection.
Gradually, your relationship with Mapi stopped being lack of love and became the fruit of devotion. Walking alongside her was the best opportunity for that.
❝ ¡Quiero un frappuccino, por favor! ❞ (I'd like a frappuccino, please!) You used the spanish words that you knew, asking with a great enthusiasm. After all, from now you would use that dialect a lot more.
Really more.
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illubean · 5 months
Note
chrollo and kurapika (separate) with a reader who’s an artist and have a sketchbook that’s full with drawings of them<3
Chrollo and Kurapika With Artist!Reader
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Characters: Kurapika Kurta, Chrollo Lucilfer Type: Fluff, Headcanons, Gn!reader
my wifi is down until monday so i gotta write from my phone 😔 also kinda short sry >_<
Warnings: None
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Kurapika Kurta
when he first sees you with the sketchbook he keeps note of the fact you like to draw
he likes to pay attention to your interests, maybe he could gift you some new pencils or something at some point
he won't pressure you to show him whats in it but he'll get curious eventually and ask
if you show him the drawings willingly and proudly he's going to be extremely flustered
you drew him? on your own will?? and you're proud of it!????!!?
he's bright red and stammers out a compliment on your skills
if you happen to leave your sketchbook open somewhere where he can see it?
he feels a little bad for looking and invading your privacy
but he just cant help it, it's sitting right there
after seeing the first 2 drawings of himself he cant help but flip through it
surprise surprise, there's more
eventually he gets embarrassed and shuts the sketchbook
he wouldn't bring it up to you he's just too flustered about it
he really does appreciate it though
he didn't think anyone would care that much about him to turn him into their muse :(
Chrollo Lucilfer
oh boy
i think him finding out you have a sketchbook full of him would just inflate his ego
he's so smug about it
he probably caught you in the act, sneaking up behind you and peeking over your shoulder
"if you needed a model you should've just asked"
he asks to see all of the drawings and offers to pose for you the next time you decide to draw him
while flipping through the pages he lets out a laugh of endearment
he thinks you're just the cutest thing ever, doting on him like that
he would steal you the finest art supplies he can get his hands on
probably offered to be a nude model for you a few times 😭
let's pretend he has a house or you guys live together
if you give him any of your artworks he would def frame them and put them up around the house
he enjoys art and believes your talent should be showcased
358 notes · View notes
soft-mafia · 7 months
Note
Can we have where the S/O was sketching Captain Buggy in secret, because she has a thing for him and she didn't want him and the crew to know about it. Until she lost it until the crew took a glimpse while laughing; they figured that she had a crush on the captain. She hid in the Crow's Nest in shame until Buggy finds her, after hearing what she's been doing in secret
Crush [Buggy x Reader]
warning: fem reader, nude drawing descriptions
a/n: this is such a cute idea😭😭 also this is me coded bc I low key draw Buggy half naked sometimes
part 2
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Y/n was sitting in one of the crow’s nests on the Big Top, hunched over her sketchbook, scribbling out another fantasy she had of Buggy.
Yeah, it was weird drawing her own captain half naked with a visible happy trail but— was she hurting anybody? No, of course not, besides nobody had to see these drawings except her. Y/n was beginning to get a little flustered sketching out the muscles, defining them.
She had a little smile on her face, but it was all interrupted by Buggy calling everybody down to the deck. Y/n left her sketchbook up there without thinking and quickly climbed down.
A while later after they had to make a pit stop somewhere to stock up on food, Y/n was carrying crates of meat when she heard some other crew mates snickering and giggling. She wondered what the hell was so funny, so she glanced over— but then a look of horror washed over her face.
���What a pervert!!” One of the men said, flipping through the pages, “Do you think she joined the crew just to get a piece of Captain Buggy?” Another man laughed. “Awww she has a little crush on him.” Another one said before they all burst into laughter.
Oh my god?! Is that my sketch book?! She nearly dropped the crate, so she quickly set it down and ran back onto the ship, panicking and feeling humiliated. Oh god.. this was awful, what if they show the captain?! He’s gonna kick me out of the crew!! This is so embarrassing I’m gonna throw myself off the ship, I can’t do this!!
Y/n hid in the crows nest, curled up in a ball, crying into her knees from embarrassment.
“Hey Captain!! Take a look at this!!”
Buggy’s attention was directed over to the group of men with Y/n’s sketch book, “Huh? What is it?” Buggy grunted and snatched it out of the man’s hands. His eyes went wide and nearly popped out of his skull when he saw the sketches.
Why was he such a hunk?! Damn he wish he looked like this, is this how people saw him? If it was then this was an absolute win. “WHO DID THIS?!” Buggy shouted, “WHO’S SICK JOKE WAS THIS?!” There were so many pages!! Who even had time to do all of this?!
“That girl, Y/n. I think she has a little crush on you, captain.” One of the pirates jokingly cooed, which made Buggy’s face go even redder.
Y/n could hear Buggy screaming from where she was, it made her curl up and want to die even more, “Ugghh!! Why did I have to leave that fucking book up here?!” She cried to herself. “Y/N!!! WHAT IS THIS?!” Buggy said once he got back onto the ship. Y/n sniffled, peeking over the side of the crow’s nest as she looked down at Buggy, “I’m sorry captain! I-I didn’t mean to..” oh god how could this situation get any worse.
“DIDN’T MEAN TO?!” Buggy took another look at the drawings. Damn he was hot, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘DIDN’T MEAN TO’?!”
Y/n hid in the crow’s nest again, crying harder. He was going to kick her off the crew.. she knew it.
Upon her cries, Buggy sighed and decided to climb up to where she was. “Cmon-.. don’t- don’t cry.” He kneeled down and gently patted her head, he looked back at the sketchbook, still amazed with how handsome he was.. “These are really good..!” He flipped to another page which was just him.. completely naked, his eyes went wide again. That fucking penis was bigger than his, why was it was so vascular!! He cleared his throat and closed the book, handing it back to Y/n, “You really captured my likeness.” He giggled, his cheeks redder than a tomato, “Maybe you can.. draw me.. maybe a bit more buffer, taller? Just a suggestion..” he coughed again.
Y/n took her book back and sniffled, “Y-You’re not gonna kick me off the crew? You’re not mad?” She couldn’t even look up at him.
“What? Why would I do that? It’s kind of a stupid reason to kick someone off..” Buggy laughed and sat beside of her, “Of course I’m not mad. But.. am I really that hot?” He chuckled softly, making Y/n even more flustered. “Maybe I can model for you sometime eh?” He joked, but then kind of regretted it.. no way did he look as hunky as those drawings.
Y/n hid her face into her sketch book, “This is so embarrassing..” she whined, “They’re never gonna let me live this down.” She could still hear the sounds of those crew mates laughing.. it made her internally recoil.
“Yeah.. not a chance.” Buggy laughed, then patted her back, “But hey, if you ever want the real thing, you can come to me whenever you want.” He grinned, winking at her.
Her face went red again and she hid it further into her book.
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lovelybrooke · 25 days
Note
Would the hotel gang take advantage of when the reader returns to earth to take a look at the drawings and what the reader writes in the sketchbook out of curiosity or would they prefer to respect the reader's privacy?
Someone asked for more Charlie and Vaggie stuff so here this is. Might be a little short but I am in so much pain so apologizes for that
masterlist
---
Charlie felt like she was going to cry, she missed you so much. 
Her eyes welled with tears as she gazed down at drawing after drawing, all of the hotel staff. These were the only things she had left of you, and now you were gone.These silly little doodles were all she's got. 
"Don't worry Charlie, they'll be back soon." Vaggie was here, trying her best to comfort her partner, rubbing her back as she knelt on the ground, papers in hand. 
"I-I know" She mumbles, eyes glued onto the drawings. "I-it's just--was it my fault?" She whispers, finally looking up to her girlfriend. Her eyes were wide and full with guilt, and it made Vaggie frown with deep sadness. 
"No, no, of course not Charlie!" Vaggie reassured her, pulling Charlie into a deep hug. Every sniffle Charlie let out broke her heart a little bit more. 
"Then why would they leave?" Charlie asks again, voice low. In truth, Vaggie didn't have an answer. She tries her hardest to remember what you were like before you left. You were distant and quiet, more so than normal. It scared her a bit, seeing you so not like yourself. 
"(Y/n)..." She approached you one day in the lobby, near the fireplace. You were staring directly into the fire, your gaze unmoving even when she approached. After a few seconds, she sat down next to you. You didn't move. "Are you okay?" 
You don't respond for a while, and Vaggie thinks you might have not heard her. Though eventually, your quiet voice breaks the silence. "Yeah--I'm fine." You say, your voice blank and devoid of emotion. 
Your voice ripples through Vaggie's ears and sends a shiver down her spine, you definitely weren't okay. "Are you sure? You seem--" She didn't know the right word, distant, lost, dazed? 
You don't wait for her to finish her sentence, "Vaggie, do you ever get scared?" 
Vaggie tilts her head "scared of what?" 
You finally move, looking down at the floor. Your brows furrow, like you're in deep thought. "Of everything." You whisper. 
Vaggie thinks for a second, "sometimes" she responds. "Sometimes I get so scared--it feels like I can't breathe." She says, watching as your eyes move towards her. They were wide and she could see tears threatening to spill over. 
"How do you deal with it?" You question, nearly begging. 
She sighs, slowly moving her hand to rub your arm. It was awkward, but she could feel you start to relax. "For a while I did nothing." She thinks of life before Charlie, before having that support system. "And then I met Charlie, and suddenly I had someone I could go to, when I felt like everything was too much." Your breathing calmed down and your tears were dry. 
"You know you can come to us." Vaggie reminds you. "If--If anything ever happens, you can come to us, please come to us." 
You don't say anything, instead you move back, away from Vaggie and return to gazing into the fire. Vaggie couldn't describe how she felt if she wanted to, hurt, scared, disappointed. 
But it was all in the past now. 
Vaggie wished she would have done something to help you. To make you feel better. She wishes she could've seen the signs before you decided to do something like this. 
As she hugs her girlfriend, she feels that same feeling wash over her, the hurt, the fear, the disappointment. "I don't know Charlie." She says. "I don't know why they left."
"But we'll find them. I promise."
---
A/n; This didn't focus on the drawings and was kinda sad, sorry.
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maapllee · 8 days
Text
All The Stars~ PT.3
BAKUGOU X SECRET ADMIRER PT.3
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A/N: I love this part n I love writing for y'all, you guys are so sweet. I know I said this part would come out a few weeks ago, but my kitten contacted parvo virus. I hope you guys understand :<
P.S: I'd like to add that one of the next parts will have slightly suggestive themes, nothing too descriptive.
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ALL THE STARS PT.1 | ALL THE STARS PT.2
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You groaned, jolting awake from what you thought was a short nap. The sun was blazing, hot on your skin now. Your head and throat throbbed- you were dehydrated and miserable. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you took in your surroundings.
Bakugou shut the door to his dorm so hard the walls shook. His muscular back rested against the wooden door. He closed his eyes, panting. The book in his hands felt like concrete, heavy and cold. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down. Opening the book, he took in the pages- pages and pages of sketches of himself sitting idly in class. He had to admit, you had some real talent there. He looked so calm, taking notes while resting his chin on his palm.
Meanwhile, you pulled your knees towards yourself, taking a minute to recall the past few hours. Eyes widening, you frantically searched around as you remembered you had set your sketchbook down- it would be no short of a disaster if anyone opened that book. Maybe it wasn't THAT great of an idea to carry said book out of your dorm room. Shit. Bakugou pulled Kirishima into his dorm room, his heart beating in his temples now. "Woah, I didn't think L/N would be the one who was putting those gifts in your locker! I can't say I'm surprised though, you guys are so thoughtful with each other." Kirishima nodded. "Thoughtful with wHO, I can't fuckin stand her. She's so annoying and dumb and stupid, almost stupider than Deku." Bakugou shouted, hands on his cheeks.
"Yeah, totes bro." Kirishima deadpanned, patting Bakugou's back. "So, when're ya asking her out? There are a couple good movies in the theatre or that new cafe down the street... We should ask Denki, he looks like the kinda dude to have this kinda experience", Kirishima rambled on and on, which all went over the blond's head, too busy calming the thumping in his chest, his head steaming.
Shaking his head, Bakugou took a deep breath in. "Fuck that, We have training at Ground Beta in half an hour. We'd better start heading over and warming up." Bakugou said, ushering Kirishima out of his room. Closing the door shut, He put his forehead to the cool wood at the thought of facing you at the Ground- knowing you, you must be having a panic attack at the mere thought of your sketchbook being missing- fuck- now that he thought of it, that was fucking selfish of him to do. He wondered if he could slip it into your dorm room while you were on the ground- he could fake an injury or a fever or something, he'd just have to convince Aizawa Sensei. A tough task in itself.
You stood next to Uraraka at Ground Beta. You shifted your weight from one foot to another as your fingers fiddled with your hair, still anxious over how you couldn't find your sketchbook this morning. Bakugou was stretching with the boys in some distance, taking note of how you couldn't hide how anxious you were. Almost in tears, you thought about the possible scenarios. What if someone had taken your book? What if they'd shown Bakugou? What if they'd leaked it all around UA? Your hero career was as good as over.
Aizawa Sensei walked onto the ground, patting your back as he took notice of how down you were. Aizawa Sensei started reading off the pairings for training. You shook your head, taking in deep breaths while steadying yourself to get your head in the game. UA wasn't for the weak and you weren't going to let something as small as this drag you down- they were just sketches and you could always claim the book wasn't yours, un-named as the book was.
"YN/LN and Bakugou Katsuki, please make your way to the centre of Ground Beta."
You physically flinched as you grimaced at the pairing. Uraraka gave you a small push, urging you to step forward. Aizawa Sensei gave you the side eye, wondering what kind of argument you and Bakugou had again, prompting this kind of reaction from you. Little did he know, huh?
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TAGLIST: @lovra974 Thanks so much for keeping up with the series~
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Five in a time line where reader doesn't know him? Kind of like Klaus and what's his faces relationship???????
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Haven't written this in ages
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He doesn't take it well at all
He's never loved someone the way he loves you, so when he does go into a time line where you've never even met him, he freaks out internally
Though, then he starts to think that maybe this is a good thing
He knows everything about you. Your likes, dislikes, embarrassing memories, insecurities, hobbies, etc [I think you get my point]
^ He can use this knowledge and use it to make himself seem like the perfect guy/boyfriend
While you did like him in his timeline, there were moments where he wasn't the best boyfriend, but now he has a second chance
He'll 'accidentally' run into you and see you holding a book/sketchbook/notebook/journal [Whatever your interest is] and he'll pick it up before being like "Oh, you like ____? I like it, too. I can never find anyone else who likes _____"
He knows you're shy and easily scared/introverted, so he knows this is a hit or miss, but thankfully you take it really well. You were excited someone shared the same interest as you. You start babbling about it, while asking if he wanted to get a drink or food
He's quick to take up the offer. He didn't want to waste a second with you
You do think he moves incredibly fast. You never had a guy like him show such an interest in you, so you're taken aback by his enthusiasm
He doesn't want to scare you, but he can't help himself
He does begin to scare you when you realize he knows everything about you
He doesn't tell you about his powers, until you start to avoid him in fear
You're surprised when he appears in your room, going through your drawers, before tossing you your journal/diary
"You should put a lock on that"
"How- What are you- How did you get into my room?"
He sits on your bed, ignoring you
"Hello? Five?"
He looks at you, holding one of your stuff animals in his hands. If you had known he would sneak in your room, you probably would have hidden that.
"Why have you been avoiding me?"
"What?"
He gets off the bed, stepping closer to you, until your back hits the wall. He throws the stuff animal over his shoulder, before making direct eye contact with you. "Why. Are. You. Avoiding. Me?"
"I-I-I ha-haven't be-been doing that- Avoiding you I mean-" You stutter over your words, causing him to deeply frown
"Don't patronize me. I'm not fucking stupid."
"I've been busy," You quickly lie, mentally applauding yourself for coming up with that so quickly
"Doing what?" Five humored you, deciding he'd try and let you defend yourself. Maybe you weren't avoiding him. Maybe he was being paranoid
"Things?"
He groans, looking away from you, annoyed. Why were you really avoiding him? He thought things were going great? But apparently he was wrong...
What he didn't realize is that he was coming on to strong
There was silence in the room and you were scared, because he still hasn't said anything and he's not looking at you
Finally, after what feels like eternity, he speaks
"Can I tell you something-Well, let me showing something."
You were a little confused, but he pulls you towards the bed and pushes you down. He takes a deep breath, before making direct eye contact with you.
"You can't freak out. Promise me?"
"It can't possibly be that bad-"
"I'm serious. Promise me"
''Fine. I promise."
You think he's over exaggerating and blowing this out of proportion, until he fucking disappears
You look around the room confused and then he suddenly appears behind you, holding a soda. It was the one you had downstairs that you had been waiting all day to drink
"How did you do that???"
"It's complicated," He tells you, rubbing the back of his neck
"That's so cool!"
You ask him to do his talent over and over. At first he was annoyed, but then he realizes that you were probably going to break up with him, but now you were more interested in him than you've ever been
You practically become obsessed with him
He doesn't mind, in fact he finds it hot. His timeline version of you was never obsessed with him. You were just a lovely couple, but this version of you was practically as bad as him and god he loves it so much
He wants to keep you forever
And he will. You're never getting away from him
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