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#I need to get a sketchbook with blank pages
eggwishing · 1 year
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What are your drawing habits like? Like are you drawing any chance you get? Do you draw while at work/school? How did you start doing that or have you always been a drawer all the timer (I'm impressed and in awe of your consistency)
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WAAAAAAHHH OK WELL FIRST OF ALL TY U 4 THA SWEET WORDS , u SWEETIE PIE!!!!!! ❤️😊2 answer yo ur question ya I draw all the time at school Like I always have my sketchbook out to doodle stuff, I prolly spend more time drawing at school than I spend doing actual work . I started the habit in middleschool bc middleschool sucks for everyone but it especially sucked for my undiagnosed ass and I needed that outlet, drawing whenever I could like squeezing a stress ball yknow. Even if it’s like random doodles and stuff, it doesn’t matter if it looks good, doing it in the first place is the whole point . The good part comes with time n focused efforts . (Don’t get caught up in making ‘good’ doodles btw or you’ll fuck yourself up and end up barely drawing, speaking from experience. Just Draw. Done>>>>perfect !!!! ). But the largest part of why I draw so frequently is bc it’s convenient. Like I have a pretty small sketchbook that’s easy to carry around, and when you can just whip it out in a couple of seconds whenever you want, you find yourself drawing more n more. Some people prefer bigger or even smaller sketchbooks, but it’s all abt ur own preference. Personally I don’t have the kinda strength to haul around an encyclopedia that’ll take forever to get out, and also take forever to put back away when I always gotta be on the move. It kills the mood!! people underestimate how important this aspect is I think— the more accessible ur sketchbook is, the more you’ll find ur self drawing . Anyways, I hope this helped answer ur questions!! peace n love ❤️❤️🫶🫶🙏🙏
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circeyoru · 12 days
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Your Special Shush Muse = Requested
The Request
[Sung Jinwoo x A-Rank Hunter Artist!Reader]
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There was something you’ve been doing outside of your Hunter business. A calmer and less active activity. That was drawing. You love to just sit at a high place and just observe the people and their livelihood in the city. You used your <God’s Eye> to watch over people and see far, it was because of your hobby that you mastered your Hunter’s skills after awakening so easily. 
Your eyes would glow a faint aura with smokey wisps at the corner of your eye extending to your ear. The deeper the colour of the aura, the more concentrated you were at something or someone. Usually, it’d be faint to the point no one noticed because you didn’t need to doom in on the details. Once you had a basic view and some inspiration, your hand would move over the blank page, and a drawing slowly formed.
Being in high places also gives you the advantage and privacy needed for an artist such as yourself. Before awakening, you were content with being on the roof, now you could sit on the edge of a high building or the ledge of a roof. It’s mostly due to your <Wormhole> ability to create a vortex that gave you the power to teleport, but only in spaces where you could see. You had convenient abilities, but that’s not all you could do; they were abilities you were most familiar with compared to the others.
Your pencil scratched through the paper in a thick black line when your music was suddenly interrupted by an ear-piercing ringtone. You growled at the destroyed drawing in front of you before sighing, life of a Hunter is so annoying, but it was easy money as long as you’re ranked high enough and careful. You placed your pencil to your side and tapped on the side of your headphones to answer the call then reached for an eraser. 
“Hello? State your business…”
“Where are you?”
You frowned at the lack of greeting or small talk, well, it was good for you since you wanted to get back to your drawing. You carefully tried to erase the accidental line on the page. “Somewhere high in the city, not sure where I am. Why?”
“Your presence is needed for an inspection after a report of a Double Dungeon. I’ll send you the location, head there immediately. You know what to do.” And the call ended.
You cursed Woo Jinchul and his workaholic habits, if he wanted to work so much, don’t drag others into it. Still, a Double Dungeon was rare. So maybe you’ll get some inspiration from that? You shook your head and went into a Hunter mindset. After putting away your sketchbook and stationary, you checked your phone for the location while creating vortexes for you to travel down from your current location.
“What?!” Your eyes widened as you stopped mid-travel at the words your eyes landed on. This location was where Sung Jinwoo would have his D-Rank dungeon raid. Something happened? No way, why was it always Jinwoo?
Your hand raised as you ran through vortex after vortex, your heart and mind racing just as fast, if not even faster. You reached the site in record time, finding some members of the Hunters Association scattered around doing their work. You looked for Jinwoo among the survivors making their brief statements before being sent to the hospital. When he wasn’t among them, you went to question the more healthy-looking survivors. 
To your horror, they only looked away when you asked for Jinwoo. They couldn’t admit it, but their faces says it all. They abandoned Jinwoo in that dungeon. You don’t know how, but you managed to hold yourself back from punching them or lashing out. There was a glimmer of hope; Jinwoo always have some way that let him survive at the worst odds. 
“I’m going in.” You told Jinchul firmly. 
Jinchul nodded and gestured for his men to follow after you into the gate. “There’s not much time until it closes. The boss was already defeated. You have 15-20 minutes, tops.”
“I’ll use <Wormhole> if I run out of time.” You set your phone with a timer of 15 minutes; better safe than sorry. Once you entered through the gate, you immediately activated your two skills. Swiftly bringing the team to the Double Dungeon and looking for any clues as to where Jinwoo would be, the least you could do was bring back his body for a burial. 
You took a step back and readied your bow and arrow for anything while the men pushed open the double doors. When nothing happened even after a few seconds, you used your <God’s Eye> to survey the inside from a safe distance. Your view landed on the altar, but flinched at the amount of blood that pooled at the bottom. Looking up, you were met with Jinwoo’s unconscious body laying there.
“Hunter Sung Jinwoo is inside!” You shouted at the men and put away your weapon in favour of heading straight for him. “Jinwoo! Jinwoo!” You tried to shake him awake, but he remained unresponsive. You placed your ear against his heart and listened for something. His body was still warm and there was a heartbeat, albeit weak. “Thank goodness…” 
After confirming that Jinwoo was alive, you let Jinchul’s men bring Jinwoo out and to the hospital. You scanned the area again to mentally catalogue the surroundings so Jinchul could put it into a report. Another ability of yours was to transcribe what you see and recall on paper, like you were a human instant camera. You call it <Photoshot>. 
While you waited for Jinwoo to wake up, your mind went blank, and your hand moved across the blank page. Your eyes stared dreamily at Jinwoo’s peaceful form, sighing from time to time. You couldn’t explain the relief you had when Jinwoo was still alive after all that blood you saw on the alter. The torn pants leg must have meant he might have lost part of his leg, but it was still there. You have to thank whoever healed him as the first responders. 
“Drawing your crush again?” Jinchul’s voice snapped you out of your daze.
“Hello to you too.” You greeted without giving the man a glance. Yes, you have a crush on Jinwoo and you never once told him or anyone. You’ve had it since school before he dropped out due to needing money. You even had a separate sketchbook with all forms of doodles and drawings of Jinwoo. What can you say? You have dedication. “You know that’s better than me lashing out at the survivors…”
“It is.” Jinchul nodded in agreement. You were always touchy when it came to subjects regarding Jinwoo. Because you were of a higher rank than him, the two of you were worlds apart and your work was more valued than his. You saw this prejudice as something that belonged to the deep end; anyone that says otherwise belonged to the deepest part of the Earth. 
As for how he found out about your little crush… He walked in on you hugging a drawing of Jinwoo. He can’t say anymore nor could he mention to anyone else. Unless he has a death wish. He doesn’t want you vortexing him into some acid or killer contraption. 
Another thing was your darker side that you kept at bay. Whether it has been there since the beginner or emerged after your awakening as a Hunter, he’s not sure, but it wasn’t a pretty sight. As if you turned to another person when triggered, your bloodlust and cruelty was another level from the criminals. You could give them a run for their money. The saying goes, ‘Don’t offend the Quiet Hunter’.
“It’s been two days; you should rest.” Jinchul tried to get you to leave the hospital multiple times already. Judging by the number of balled-up papers on the floor to your side, you’ve been in the same spot for a long time. 
“What if he wakes up when I leave and goes into another dangerous dungeon?” You pouted as your hand stopped. Your eyes turned their focus to your drawing, and your fingers brushed through the drawing of Jinwoo’s cheek even though he was right in front of you. Perhaps you didn’t want to touch him since your fingers were dusted with the graphite powder from the pencil and drawing.
“It’s his choice as a Hunter.”
With that, you left Jinwoo in Jinchul’s hands. You didn’t want to, but you had to earn money for your family too, plus you wanted to help Jinwoo while it was out of commission. During the time you were gone from Jinwoo’s side, he grew. You didn’t notice it until you compared your drawings page by page. From an innocent childlike to a mature adult. You never outright observed him while you were in his range, but used your cheat skill. To say you weren’t flushed like a red tomato was a plain-out lie. 
Once, you peeked in on him doing exercises and saw him half naked. You fell off the roof and nearly dropped to your death if not for your sketchbook falling on your face to snap you out of it. You made a vortex to land yourself on the roof again. You clenched your heart and felt it beating like crazy. Curiosity killed the cat and you wanted to look again. Within seconds, you were falling again. Literally.
Over time, you had gotten used to it and didn’t shy away from Jinwoo’s new and incredible view. In fact, you drew it all in your sketchbook. Completely unaware of the Shadows that were staring at your actions with glee. You did, however, find it odd that there were times when you couldn’t observe Jinwoo with your <God’s Eye> and you had asked him what he was doing during those times. 
“I was just in the dungeon. Why?” Jinwoo nonchalantly answered your question before sipping on his coffee.
“Oh, nothing at all.” You flinched, you looked away while cupping your cup of drink, “I was just looking for you and you weren’t around.”
Jinwoo placed his cup down, leaning over the table, “What for?”
You gulped, leaning back into your chair unconsciously. “N- Nothing. Just Hunter business and see if you wanted me to bring you to some weapons shop for a discount.”
Jinwoo grinned and ruffled your hair in a brotherly manner. “I got some nice drops, so I don’t think I’ll be needing new weapons or gears for a while.”
“Oh. Okay…” There goes your chance to go out with him. 
Nevertheless, you love times where you and Jinwoo would just sit in a cafe or quiet restaurant just chatting and catching up with your life. You love how Jinwoo appeared more confident and prideful in a way that you couldn’t explain. It was his overall aura and imagine. Plus, the aura around him practically screams to you that he was no long an E-Rank or The Weakness Hunter of All Mankind. How you craved and prayed for such a day to be true. If it were a dream, you hpoe and wish for it to last as long as you and he lived. 
At the top of a tower, you were giggling to yourself at Jinwoo’s appearance on TV. The silliness and ignorance of him was worthy of a cute doodle and a drawing of him showing off his power. Your hand moved over the pages like you were possessed, even the weather couldn’t deter you from your mission. “Jinwoo’s so cool.”
“Thanks.”
“Ahhh!!!” You hugged your sketchbook to your chest and turned the direction where the voice came from. You knew that voice anywhere. “Jinwoo! When did you get here?! Weren’t you at the Hunters Association seconds ago?!”
“You know I can travel quickly and wherever.” Jinwoo tilted his head to the side innocently. His eyes traveled down to your sketchpad in your arms. “So, what are you drawing that got your soul split from your body?”
“Nothing! Not something you can see.” You claimed with the fiercest face you could muster. “So leave, this is my spot, I came first.”
Jinwoo still smiled, “But I seen it before.” He yoinked the sketchbook from your arms effortlessly, he was an S-Rank Hunter. He flipped through the pages and made comments at every page while you withered away in the corner. “Wow! These are so good! You make me look like some god.”
You mumbled how he was practically one in your mind, but you didn’t want to when you were dying of embarrassment. He knows… He migth as well know with this…
Jinwoo chuckled at the hearts doodled around the page. His eyes traveled to you and he closed it, holding it in his arm dedicately. He kneeled down to your level and tapped on your shoulder to make you turn around.
“What… I’m so embar—”
As smooth as your pencil over your page, Jinwoo took your chin in his fingers and leaned in close to you. Giving you a soft kiss on your lips. You blinked twice while Jinwoo stared with your eyes as if he was looking into your soul. You heart beat like a drum while Jinwoo still appears as calm and collected as ever. 
Jinwoo finally backed up and grinned at his handy work. He waved your sketchbook in the air, “I’ll take this as your confession and you can take this,” His finger tapped your lips playfully, “As my way of saying ‘I’m yours’. It applies both way okay?”
Thank whatever god there is, because you managed to nod. 
Jinwoo got up. “Good.” He dragged you along with him, pulling you up but your legs gave up from your crouching so you fell into him with a face full of muscles and hotness. His chuckles made your face light up with heat and redness. He gave you a hug, speaking right into your ear, “I’d appreciate if you’d only draw me in your sketchpad and not some other unworthy muse.”
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Note: Yup this is it! It was in my story file for a while and I just decided to post it. This is I think my third request for this fandom? There are some other requests in my inbox that are ideas that I've drafted already so no complains when I tweak it a bit or don't fulfil the request 100%.
Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed!!
Circe Y.
My Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist:
@momut
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mrghostrat · 2 months
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since we’re on the topic of bookbinding, i’ve been wanting to get into it but i haven’t actually done any research (yet) other than vibes, so do u have any tips for complete beginners?? :)
@geminibookbinding is who inspired me to finally look up the whole process and figure out where to start! this is the super helpful tutorial i got from them
i had dabbled with binding before though, using Sea Lemon's tutorials to make blank sketchbooks yearsss ago. i still use her text block and diy hardcover videos as a refresher/reminder while i bind!
the biggest thing that stopped me from learning to bind printed fiction was not understanding how to print the text from home, specifically how to get the pages in the right order for signatures. it's actually so easy with some very simple to use programs: QuantumElephant for PC users (free), and I use BookletCreator on Mac ($20)
i want to go into more detail about my process and supplies from a beginner perspective, i hope this helps:
format the text in a word processor
export your document as a single page PDF
enter that PDF file into Quantum Elephant or BookletCreator, to rearrange the pages for your signatures. your program will give you a new PDF file that you can then print.
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4. double sided printing: i was so so scared of this at first, but it's incredibly simple. no matter what printer you have, somewhere in your print settings will be an option to print even or odd pages.
print all the even pages first, then when the stack is finished printing, flip them over, insert them back into the paper feed, and print the odd pages.
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5. fold the signatures together so you have a stack of little booklets, then mark on the spine where your sewing holes need to be. manually punch the holes using an awl, or diy an awl by stuffing a cork on the end of a straight needle.
6. sewing: take regular sewing thread and run it over a block of beeswax. this makes the thread easier to manage and holds it in place better while you sew. a curved needle is also much easier to use than a straight one, especially for a kettle stitch (using Sea Lemon's tutorial)
7. gluing: glue decorative pages (or plain, but thicker paper) to the front and back to create your end pages, then press the book flat to apply PVA glue to the spine. press it overnight so the glue dries flat. (optional: glue a ribbon to the top of the spine, then sew on headbands) finally glue an additional piece of paper (or mull) around the spine to strengthen it.
8. optional: trim the edges of your book down to create a smooth edge. this one's given me the most trouble because it's very hard to get right with a knife, and the proper supplies are expensive. check your local stationery shop (i.e. Officeworks, Staples) for an industrial guillotine service
9. cover: once you have the final measurements of your text block you can start making the cover. this is essentially gluing cardboard, binders board, or plywood etc to a sheet of fabric. the fabric either needs to be bookcloth, or have some kind of non-porous back so the glue doesn't seep through. you can diy bookcloth from any fabric with tissue paper. then glue the decorate end pages to your cover to attach the textblock!
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starleska · 1 year
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Hey I saw your fainting request and thought it looked great....I have a request of my own...
Can...you do wally x reader who is autistic? Like gets distracted and/or hyperfixated on things easily, does stims like arm flapping as an example, and other stuff?
Just love wally from welcome home ever since I randomly stumbled upon welcome home! I wish they would 'find tapes of the show' so we could legit watch the episodes and stuff! Imagine the glitches and tibits they could add in! Oh I'd love it! And I adore the puppets and this adorable horror so much!
oh hell yeah, this is the ask i was waiting for!!! 🔥🔥🔥 of course i can fill out this prompt for you darling - i'm autistic myself, and it's my headcanon that every single member of the Welcome Home cast is some shade of neurodivergent 🥰💖 the lovely official arm-flapping art of both Julie and Frank is all the evidence i need!! plus, Wally sleeping on a cake...i'm choosing to believe he's a big fan of that kind of texture 😂💖 speaking of!...
Wally Darling x Autistic Reader headcanons
⭐ when you first tell Wally you're autistic, he doesn't quite grasp the concept. he nods when you give the clinical definition, but it's clear he doesn't understand why you're making the distinction. however, when you first describe your special interests, Wally's eyes light up! he grabs a pencil and his sketchbook, and quickly scrawls a crude picture of your mutual neighbour Frank, along with a host of pretty butterflies. then, right by his side Wally doodles himself, surrounded by floating apples. "It's good to be excited by things," says Wally, with all the sage wisdom of a tenured professor. ever distracted, he flips to a new page and carefully (his tongue sticks out during the process!) renders you in pencil. then, he fills in the blank space with pretty, stylised doodles of all your most beloved interests - even the obscure ones which are not easily communicated in picture form 💖 from that moment on, you know you and Wally are kindred spirits. ⭐ stimming is something Wally does regularly, and he loves it when you stim too!! Wally's most prominent stim is singing - he's constantly humming a tune or thoughtlessly mumbling lyrics to himself, sometimes from known songs, and sometimes from original compositions. Wally is also prone to pacing and threading his fingers together when he's nervous or stressed: a rare occurrence, as his outward persona is typically bright and relaxed. however, Wally never wants his pals to feel left out: if his friends are stimming, he'll quite happily mirror the movements!! Julie adores it when Wally flaps along with her, and although Frank will never admit it, he appreciates when Wally sits on the floor and rocks with him. whichever stims you prefer, he's always delighted to be a part of what helps you navigate the world and make your body and brain feel better 🥰 ⭐ Wally loves to give you deep-pressure hugs. your new neighbourhood is a kind and accepting place, but even you can become overwhelmed by its sweet, rainbow brightness. you don't know why, but one particularly hypersensitive day, you begin to approach a meltdown and have nowhere to escape. without a word, Wally slips his soft, fuzzy arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest, face-first. his strength is astonishing, and although you have an initial moment of panic, all that tension and terror starts to slip away as you inhale his unique fruit-felt scent. Wally hums to you as he holds you - and keeps you in his arms until you feel relaxed enough to slip out of your own accord 🥺 i hope this is what you were looking for, anon :3c i know we all have our unique experiences as autistic people, but i hope this was broad enough and relevant to you. have a great day 😊💖
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melanieph321 · 1 month
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bae please write something for one of the barca boys😩
🫡
Pedri/Fermin x Reader - Nude
Who's more artistic, Pedri or Fermin? 💅
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Pedri and Fermin are tricked to take an art class by some of the Barca boys. Things get a little heated as the two of them are expected to portray a nude model, the nude model being you.
Enjoy!
"I can't believe we're doing this?" Said Fermin.
"We?" Pedri pushed open the door to the arts department. They had struggled with directions on campus and were most likely running late for the class. "Look around, Fermin. It's your big mouth that keeps getting us into shit like this. If you and Cancelo would just stop betting your well-earned salaries, we could be having a day off for once. Instead, we're in The University of Barcelona, fulfilling silly side quests such as this one."
"Okay, okay, Gonzalez. I get it, I messed up....again. But let's see the positive in this."
"Which is?"
They paused on the top of a stairscase. People were passing them by, students, turning their heads at the sight of them.
"Our parents would be proud to finally see us attending university."
Pedri rolled his eyes and shoved Fermin for him to keep walking.
The boys eventually found the right classroom and stumbled through the door in chaotic fashion. Students, seated before large canvasas, shifted their heads.
Pedri and Fermin looked at each other hesitantly. "Erm...Buenos días?"
"You made it!" A woman stood from behind a canvas, approching them where they stood awkwardly by the door. "Señores! You must be Pedri, and you must be Fermin." She shook their hands vividly. A surprisingly strong grip "I'm Martina Ramirez, the teacher of this class. My husband and children are big fans of Barça. Matter of fact, they still don't believe that the two of you are participating in my class today."
"This is it?" Fermin frowned, which earned him a slap in the back of the head from Pedri.
"Puta! Why did you do that for?"
"Yes, yes, of course." She directed them towards the circle of students, sitting them down before their blank canvasas.
Pedri ignored his friend, smiling at the woman. "Thank you for having us today Señorita Ramirez. Should we take our seats?"
Fermin looked to Pedri, shaking his head in disbelief. However, as the class began, the boys found themselves surprisingly engaged. Señorita Ramirez was a great teacher, and she made the class fun and interactive. They started with drawing, and before long, Pedri was actually creating some pretty impressive sketches. Fermin, on the other hand, struggled a bit more, but he found joy in experimenting with different colors and textures. That is, until you stepped into the room.
You were late, slowed down by the unexpected rain. Luckily, your clothes were meant to come off anyway. You entered the dimly lit classroom unnoticed so as not to disturb the students, deeply immersed in their work. But of course, Señorita Ramirez spotted you and waved for you to take your place in the middle of the circle.
"Señoras y señores, our object has arrived."
Like clock work the students flipped the pages of their sketchbooks, none of them bothering to give you a second glance, none of them expect for two boys who seemed a bit lost at what the other students were doing.
"Yes, boys, just like that." Señorita Ramirez encouraged. "Flipp your pages. It's time for a new drawing."
They did what they were told. Meanwhile, you took your place in the circle, untying the ropes of your bathrobe, the fabric sliding down your naked shoulders.
"Joder!" Someone gasped. One of the lost boys. His eyes were wide, staring at you like a maniac on ecstasy.
"Now Señor Lopez...." Señorita Ramirez approched him, pointing to his blank canvas. "Paint what you see, honey. Paint what you see."
He swollowed nervously but managed to diverge his eyes back to the canvas. Beside him his friend was already getting busy with his paint brush, a slight blossom to his cheeks.
"You holler when you need a break cariño."
"Yes, señorita Ramirez."
You usually lasted the whole class without a break. However, you could feel drops of water from your wet hair running down the length of your naked back, which could be a problem for later. But right now, your main focus was to pose for the students, two of those students who looked awfully familiar to you, but from where, you had no idea.
At one point, you tilted your head to get a better look at the other. The one with the dark hair and blushing cheeks. However, some students would hiss at you, urging for you to stand still. You did this repeatedly, curiously regarding the new boy who kept his eyes on his canvas, refusing to throw glance your way. His friend on the other hand, grinned at you like a kid in a candy store. He seemed more fascinated by your nakedness than Jack did Rose in that Titanic movie.
"There, times up!" Señorita Ramirez announced.
"What, already?" Fermin sighed.
Pedri, on the other hand, stood, swiftly grabbing his coat.
"Boys..."
"Puta." He hissed, seeing as Señorita Ramirez made her way over to them.
"I hope you enjoyed attending this class as much as I liked having you here?"
"Oh, I enjoyed myself for sure." Fermin said, slapping the canvasas tucked underneath his arm. "Trust me, this one is going up on my wall at home."
Pedri wanted to slap his friend again. But just then you were seen walking up to his canvas, clutching your bathrobe around your body. You were regarding Pedri's painting, making him even more nervous.
"Excuse me?" He said, pushing pass Fermin and Señorita Ramirez. He pushed passed them and lunged for his canvas, pulling it away, out of your site. "I'm sorry, but it's not finished." He muttered.
"I can see that." You giggled. "A good start though."
Pedri looked up, meeting your eyes. "You think so?"
"I mean you only drew my face, but I guess that's the best part of me, no?"
"Yes, yes it is...."
You frowned.
"No!" He blurred out. "Not only your face looks good. All of you looks good. I just wish that I had more time to finish it."
You smiled. "Well, there's always sametime next week."
Pedri nodded, however did not raise his head to meet your eyes again. "Yeah, maybe next week..."
"Great, I'll see you then." You offered him your hand, which he shook almost immediately.
"Pedri, Pedri Gonzalez."
"Nice to meet you Pedri, my name is Y/N."
"Y/N." He said it almost dreamingly.
"....And my name is Fermin, Fermin Lopez, if you please." His friend disrupted the moment. Pedri looked to want to kill him. Nevertheless, the boys left shortly after that, never to be seen again. That is, until you turned on the TV that following night.
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Text
A Proud Artists Work❣︎
Wally Darling x reader
Summary: looking at Wally’s art work, you feel slightly discouraged about your own. However, Wally quickly finds a way to cheer you up!
Warnings: starts off fluffy but ends a bit yandere-ish
A/n: I HAD TO WRITE A WALLY DARLING SMALL FIC I COULDNT HELP MYSELF!! I LOVE THIS MAN
Well i do hope all the welcome home fans like this!! Enjoy<3
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You felt the wind brush up against your cheek as you looked down at your sketchbook in your hand. Your grip on it tightened as you looked around. The neighborhood was surprisingly calming this afternoon. Normally the neighbors would be outside playing but today they didn’t seem to come out of their homes. You watched as the leaves fell from the tree you were sitting under. You leaned up against the wood, taking a breath in.
You turned your head to look at your boyfriend, Wally Darling. He stared at his canvas intensely, focused on every paint stroke he made. His canvas faced you so you couldn’t see what he was painting. He wouldn’t allow you to see what he was creating just yet.
You admired him for his artwork. He was so diligent and his art was breath taking. You wished you were able to draw and paint like he did.
“Darling?” Wally looked over to you, noticing your dull expression. “What’s the matter?”
You sat up, looking away for him and down to the blank paper in your lap.
“Do you really think I’m a good artist?” You asked. He complimented things you have drawn before but a part of you felt like it was forced. Did he just compliment you out of pity?
Wally’s smile dropped slightly as he placed his paintbrush down. You looked up at him as he walked over to you and sat on the grass.
“Of course I do. Why would you question that?” He looked at your sketchbook, noticing it was empty.
“I can’t think of anything impressive to draw”
“Anything you draw will be impressive!” He grabbed a pencil out of pocket “Let’s draw something together!” He leaned in closer to you, starting to sketch an apple on the upper right corner of the paper. You just watched his hand move as he finished up the stem. He just spent a few seconds an apple and it looks amazing. What could you possible draw to impress him?
“Come on! What do you want to draw?” He looked to you. “Draw anything that comes to mind”
You looked up for a moment, trying to get some inspiration. You suddenly noticed a pretty pink flower growing in the grass.
“A flower?” You turned to him.
“Draw it!” He encouraged you. You gripped your pencil as you drew a circle for the base and petals around it.
“It looks great!” He began to add some grass around the flower “You should add a sun” You nodded and smiled softly. This felt nice.
An hour had passed and you two laid on the grass, doodling on the now full page. You two drew different things in nature, different animals, the neighbors, and even Home. You laughed softly seeing how the page was now full with the random doodles from you and your boyfriend.
You felt your cheeks heat up. Wally always knew how to make you feel better when you needed it.
“See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it~?” He gave you a grin “The page is full now”
“Yeah it is” You leaned on his shoulder “Thank you, Wally”
“Anything for you, darling”
Suddenly realization took over you and you remembered there was somewhere you needed to be.
“Oh I have to go!” You stood up, brushing your clothes off “I promised Sally I would meet her at her house to practice a play with her!” You quickly picked up your things, shoving them in your bag.
“Well you better run off, don’t want to leave her waiting” He stood up, holding his hands behind his back.
“See you later!” You waved at him and he blew you a kiss goodbye. He began to pack up his stuff knowing it was time for him to go home too. He carefully picked up the panting he was painting earlier, not wanting to ruin his work. He chuckled softly as he walked back to Home. Home opened the door for him, seeing that Wally’s hands were full.
“Thank you, Home” The puppet placed his paint supplies on the ground. The house squeaked as a way of saying you’re welcome.
“I drew another painting of them…~” He looked down at the colorful canvas. It looked exactly like you. You were leaning up against the tree you two were at, holding your sketchbook. He painted exactly what you looked like in the moment.
He walked down the halls, entering a room of Home. The room was filled with painting of you. Just painting of you.
Each painting you were doing normal activities, not even noticing that a certain painter was using you as his muse.
“This piece would look perfect… here” He hung the painting on an empty spot on the wall. “I like it. What do you think Home?” The house squeaked again.
“Maybe one day I can show them these paintings. I would love to see their reaction. After all, why shouldn’t an artist be proud of their work?”
974 notes · View notes
bullet-prooflove · 2 months
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Inspiration: Terry Silver x Reader
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Tagging: @Thedeadsingforme @thottieonline @rhepworth @eddieslut69 @mia1653
Companion piece to Roses - A bouquet of roses sparks an act of revenge.
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The morning after you run into your ex at the art gallery Terry wakes up to find himself alone in bed. He sighs as he runs his palm over the cool sheets because he hates that JP does this to you, that he still gets into your head after all this time.
The house is empty when he gets up, your car isn’t in the driveway. He wracks his brain for a moment trying to puzzle out where you’d be at this time in the morning and that’s when he remembers Osaka, how peaceful you always feel sitting underneath the trees during the cherry blossom festival.
There’s a place like that in LA, he recalls, somewhere you’ve been asking him to take you when he has a little time. It makes sense that you would go there, try to recapture the feeling of serenity you felt in Japan.
He finds you in Descanso Gardens, sitting on a bench with your sketchbook in your lap. It’s only when he sits down beside you that he realises just how tightly you’re gripping that fineliner.
“It’s happened again.” You say quietly as you stare down at the blank page. “I can’t draw.”
He hears the devastation in your voice at that admission, he feels it deep within his heart. The last time this happened it took almost a year to break the block.
“I hate that he does this to me, that I allow him to have this power...”
“It’s not as easy as that.” Terry says knowingly. He still wears the scars of his father’s emotional abuse, there’s days when he looks in the mirror and he remembers the cruel, twisted things the old man used to say and he feels them viscerally. Those are the days Terry needs a little more from you, your attention, your care, your love. And you give those things to him in abundance because you know what it’s like to be told you’re a disappointment, that you aren’t worth a damn thing.
That’s what happens when JP steps back into your world, you go back to that place. He may not have hit you, but there is no question in Terry’s mind that he abused you. Terry hates him for that, he hates him for a lot of the things he did to you.
“Let’s take a walk.” He suggests, tilting his head towards the reflecting pool. “A break may do you a little good.”
You don’t speak, instead you pack away your sketchpad before raising to your feet and taking Terry’s hand. He knows that you find the sound of his voice soothing so he guides you through the gardens explaining the history of the place, the flowers they have on display, the conservation efforts.
When you find yourself outside the Sturt Haaga Gallery, he draws you inside. It’s worked in the past, being around other people’s artwork, reviewing their techniques, it inspires you to try something new. It’s the reason that you were in Paris the day the two of you met.
He hangs back as you wander, your fingertips trailing over the display plaques as you read the words. He loves watching you in your element, he often wonders what it’s like, seeing the world through your eyes. You pause in front of a vase made of paper clay and embroidered fabric. He know it’s the colour that’s captivated you, it’s a rich shimming azure that reminds you of the sea back in Italy. There are contrasting flowers sewn into the material, rich hues of yellow and red, each one glistening with rhinestones.
And just like that the block is demolished and you find yourself sitting with your back to the wall on the opposite side of the room, sketching out your own provisional version of the piece. Sunshine yellow you write in the margin, alongside an arrow directed towards the main body of the image before moving onto your own delicate vine work.
It’s a couple of hours later that the gallery closes for lunch, by then you’ve developed several pages of the design along with your own notations. You’ve never worked with paper clay before, it’s going to get a little fun, a little messy and Terry thinks that’s exactly what you need.
You’re excited by the time you leave the gallery, your eyes are bright, there’s a spring in your step. You clutch your sketchbook to your chest as you tell Terry about your plans once you get back home and he can’t help but smile because you have that spark again, that fire. The cloud that JP cast is gone and there’s just you, shining in all your glory.
It’s an hour later, that your phone chimes with a notification. You’ve left it in the charging dock in the kitchen, the same place you always do when you work in the studio because you don’t want to be disturbed. Terry glances up from his lunch preparations, catching a glimpse of the message before it disappears off the screen.
Come out and play with me tonight, Velvet Underground - The Red Room, 10pm. – JP x
Love Terry S? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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selfindulgentpixies · 2 months
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Parchment and coffee stains
Almost Kaveh x GN!reader
possible Kaveh x Reader x Alhaitham in future parts if I continue
You're an artist to happens to see a pretty stranger in a cafe, through your art you find the courage to reach out.
Reader is shorter than Kaveh and described as not being from Sumeru.
This scenario was inspired by Kaveh's line in game about forgetting him umbrella.
word count: 1641
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The blank page before you feels daunting even as you’re swaddled in the warmth of the cafe. You’re tucked away, alone in a corner with a fresh sheaf of drawing paper, the first page beneath the cover challenging you. This drawing would set the tone for the new sketchbook. You’re aware you’re being dramatic as you lay down the daunting object to pick up your coffee for a sip. The warmth spreading across your tongue comforting you amidst the chatter of the cafe’, while there’s the tell-tale pattering of rain against the stained glass behind your head. It makes you glad you decided to bring your umbrella just in case when you saw the heavy clouds on your way out the door earlier.
Amidst the sights and smells a laugh chimes above the soft din of chatter of the many students seated at various tables. Looking for the source you see a flip of golden hair complimented by a lovely blue feather that if you had to guess was a quill pen of some sort. The person, a man if you had to guess but couldn’t be sure, was stunning. Your fingers twitch for your pencil and your sketch book finds its way back into your hands. You don’t give it any thought really, people watching and drawing were fairly normal practice, but you almost felt compelled in this moment. You watch from the corner of your eye, pencil gliding across the page, the slope of his nose, the elegant column of his throat, a lock of artfully swooping hair. His burnt umber eyes beautiful in color framed by elegant lashes making you wish you’d brought your colored pencils or paints despite the impracticality of bringing them to a cafe.
You’re snapped out of your near meditative state when he gets up to leave. It’s a snap decision then when you move your pencil with a flourish in the corner of the page before beginning to quickly pack up your things. You doubt you’ll catch him before he vanishes into the bustling streets but you have to try.
You nearly stumble right into his back when you step out beneath the cafe’s awning. 
“-Oh no, I forgot to bring my umbrella” You catch him saying, dismay lacing his voice as he stares out at the rain now pouring onto the streets, flowing over stone tiles like a man made river.
At your side your fingers smooth over the handle of your umbrella before you step forward. Your heart flutters just like the sound of your umbrella opening. You lift your gaze in time with your umbrella as you bring it high enough to cover both of you if you were to step out into the rain at the same time. Your eyes meet. “If you don’t have too far to go I can walk you to wherever it is you need to go?”
Dark blonde eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “Oh goodness I couldn’t impose like that. I really appreciate it though.” And even if he says that  there’s clear doubt clouding his eyes as he looks into the downpour. 
“You’re not imposing if I’m offering. If you’re going somewhere in the city it’s no trouble at all to make sure you don’t get entirely soaked.” 
He sighs but smiles a little. “If you’re really sure.”
“I am,” you say with a nod, proud of yourself for getting up the courage to speak with this pretty stranger. Not only that but you’ve gotten yourself the chance to spend at least a short bit of time with him. 
You go to fall into step beside him as he steps out from the awning only to hear him hiss, one of the ribs of your umbrella catching his hair due to your difference in height. “Ah! I’m so sorry, here allow me to” -you both hold the umbrella steady so as not to tug on his hair further.
“It’s alright really,” he says as your hands brush while you gently free his hair. You rock back from standing on your toes to flats of your feet.
 “Maybe.. You should carry the umbrella instead?” you offer while hoping that heat in your cheeks isn't obvious to him. “I may be a bit too short to hold this above your head the whole way.”
His wince morphs into a lil smile and a laugh. “Yes I think that might be a good idea.” Lightly calloused fingers brush against your own as he takes the offered umbrella. “Shall we?” he nods toward the stone path. 
This time when the two of you step forward it’s much more successful, no tangled hair or embarrassment, just the muted sounds of footsteps on wet stone. He’s mindful despite his longer stride he walks at a pace that allows him to keep in step with you so that you stay dry. 
“How far is it that you need to go?”  You tilt your head a bit as you glance up at him.
“Not terribly far. The worst of it is that it’s a bit of an incline the whole way so I hope that’s alright with you.” 
“Oh! Not at all. I kinda figured we may have to do a bit of walking up and down. Sort of what I’ve come to expect in Sumeru city, “ you give a small shrug of your shoulders.
He nods. “Hmm. It’s better than stairs but it’s often not as accessible as it could be. A large elevator like in port Ormos could certainly be of benefit.” Somehow you get the feeling he was saying that more to himself than you.
“Something like that would be helpful, it would also be good for getting bulk goods around the city. There’s actually an elevator like that in Yilong Warf in the north most part of Liyue. It links the lower and upper sections of the city that are separated by a waterfall so it’s essential but some of it’s accessibility is hampered by the fact that you need to take stairs on and off of it. At least if I’m recalling correctly, it has been a bit since I was there.” You don’t miss the surprised shift in the man’s expression as he looks at you. 
“Accessibility in architecture is often something that gets neglected unfortunately, too many people get caught up in the aesthetics or practicality that only applies to the most able bodied, leaving the elderly or others with mobility issues to struggle-” this conversation continues most of the walk, you’d had no idea that you’d hit on a topic he’d have so much insight into nor so many opinions.  You didn’t mind listening to him though. You were getting the impression that he was someone who you’d enjoy hearing what he’d have to say on quite a lot.
As you walk alongside him, nodding in all the right places and adding your thoughts where you can, your fingers play against the clasp of your satchel. Your sketch book tucked securely inside along with the portrait you’d sketched out of the man. What would he think of it? Would it be too weird to show him? Would he be offended you drew him? Upset you didn’t ask? Or would he be flattered? Nevermind how some people feel about the arts in Sumeru still, though he seems like someone who appreciates them if anything.
You’re only pulled from these thoughts when for the second time today you nearly walk into him just as he turns to face a pretty lil house. Your journey ending much like it started with the two of you standing under an awning. “And here we are. Thank you lending me your umbrella and sorry if I talked your ear off.” 
“Ah no worries, it was no trouble. And honestly you were really interesting to listen to.” You chew at your lower lip. “Before I go.. And I hope this isn’t too weird.. I want to give you something,” as you speak you open your bag and pull out your sketch book, opening it and delicately pulling out the page to hand to him. Those pretty umber eyes of his widen as he takes the portrait in his free hand. Clearly taken aback to see himself in a candid moment of joy. 
As he works to find his words and your stomach swims with butterflies the front door to his home opens, revealing another attractive man though this one had a more intimidating air to him. “Ah Kaveh, there you are-” he looks from Kaveh and the portrait to you and back again. “And who’s this?” 
“O-oh i’m uh, actually i’m just leaving,” You squeak in a way that has you kicking yourself. “ You can keep the portrait and uh, take care now!” And with that you're turning on your heel into the rain, slipping in your haste but keeping your balance enough to not land on your ass and make your retreat into the rain. Without your umbrella. Your umbrella still in the man’s, Kaveh’s, hand. 
“Hey wait!” He goes to step after you. You ignore him, all your courage from before gone. Later you’ll kick yourself for running off like this but for now you continue on. As you vanish his shoulders sag. “And they’re gone… I didn’t even get their name.” 
Alhaitham leans over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t be so sure. I assume they drew this right?” Without actually touching the page his index finger underlines the quick signature you’d made in the cafe’ before following Kaveh. 
“Oh!” Kaveh reads your name outloud, almost tasting it. “There aren’t too many foreign artists here in Sumeru, and with a name you should at least be able to return their umbrella.”
To say you feel stupid and embarrassed as you stand soaked in your lodgings would be an understatement.
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Ahhh I hope you guys enjoy this. It's very self indulgent as it's how i imagine myself meeting Kaveh and by extension Alhaitham. I may expand on this and give everyone a part 2. Really this is disaster artist for disaster artist and the man who keeps them balanced.
Special thank to @threnodians for reading over my fic and for making me these dividers
Tag list: @kaedescara @pastelle-rabbit @kweenkatsuki-fics @zorosdimples @strawberrystepmom
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crazyk-imagine · 2 years
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I Have to Follow my Heart
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Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Addams Witch!reader
Characters: Addams Witch!reader, Xavier Thorpe, Wednesday Addams, Joseph Crackstone
Briefly mentioned: Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams, Uncle Fester, Thing, Enid Sinclar, Bianca Barclay, Eugene Otinger, Tyler Galpin aka the hyde, Marilyn Thornhill (Laurel Gates)
Warnings: Supernatural fight, reader has visions, powers, mentions of Uncle Fester’s electricity powers, sacrificing oneself (more or less), bits and pieces of the last episode, the battle between Joseph Crackston and Wednesday, Xavier gets reader a phone, friends going through a tough time, Xavier and reader going through the motions of Wednesday’s theory
Word Count: 2,032
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At times I wished I had the same emotionless expression as my “cousin.” One might ask why I put air quotes around the word, it’ simple. 
Her uncle Fester happened to stumble upon myself and mother’s violin when I was merely three months old during one of his “adventures”. 
As I previously said, I wish I could copy her expression, especially now. You slam your journal shut, turning to look at your clock. 
You grab your jacket and exit the room, making your way towards Xavier’s art shed. Your mind is blank but thoughts float around your mind, you wonder what it is he wanted to talk to you about. 
With Wednesday firmly believing that he is the hyde, it makes you more weary of being alone with him… in the woods but if you can talk to him in his safe space so he doesn’t “totally freak out” as Enid would say, you believe it would do you good. 
“Do you believe me?” Xavier spins around to look at you. 
You gulp, this is not where you saw this going right after entering the shed. “I don’t- I don’t know,” you say, giving him your honest answer. 
“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s either you believe that I’m not the monster or you agree with your cousin,” he hisses out the word you’ve grown accustomed to calling the pigtailed girl. 
You ignore his gaze and opt to look at the floor. “I- I,” the thought you had written down in your journal crosses your mind. 
“I don’t think you’d do all these things, but you have to admit the evidence she has does make it highly possible for you to be the hyde.” 
He furrows his brows, face slowly becoming more void of emotion. “If you really believe that I’m the monster then why are you here?” 
You raise your head. “I- I needed to see it for myself.” 
“See what?” He asks with a tired tone. 
“I- what’s that?” You point over to the sketchbook with a flower bookmark sticking out of it. 
“That- that’s nothing. Why is that important now?” He’d never admit it out loud, but he was always impressed with how your attention could be drawn elsewhere within a second, even if it isn’t the most appropriate time for this to happen. 
You ignore him and walk over towards it, opening the page to find a drawing of yourself playing your deceased mothers’ violin. You reach for the flower and find yourself thrown into a vision. 
How odd, Wednesday’s the one who usually experiences these, at least from what you can remember. It is also weird how whenever she would have one, you would pass out. 
Eugene’s screams flood your mind. 
The cave where the monster hides is on fire. 
The hyde’s wide and red rimmed eyes. 
Red boots… red boots? 
-
You wake up, blinking as your eyes adjust to the moonlit room. “How did I get here?” 
The numerous footsteps echoing throughout the hallway draw you out of bed. 
You open the door and listen to the scared and panicked shrieks of the other students, rushing over towards the railing you find the red aura of the siren song on the lower floors. 
Crackstone. 
Your head snaps over towards the side. You furrow your brows at the sight of a pale dressed Wednesday, not your cousin but- “Goody?” 
She nods. “You must help her.” 
“Help who?” 
“The key.” 
You remember the pigtailed girl mentioning this to you, you know exactly who she’s referring to. “Where is she?” 
“I am going to her now, but you must guide her.” 
“Guide her? Guide her how?” 
“His black heart will end it… I must go to her now.” She starts to disappear. 
“No, Goody. Wait!” You sigh and look down. 
Bianca’s head snaps up. 
You block her song and search for a window. At times like this, you’re happy you’ve climbed the walls of the school.  
 -
You stand on the edge of the roof just before the upper hallway where you can see Bianca and a few others. You don’t feel good, something’s going on with the black-haired girl, the urge to scream is on the tip of your tongue but you fight it as you protect the students. 
You place a temporary shield around the area, preventing the fire from reaching any of the students and jump down. “Crackstone!” 
He turns to you, the evil look in his eye should send shivers down your spine but you don’t let it, not wanting him to harm anyone. 
“Another one. How nice.” The revived Joseph Crackstone taunts you. 
“Don’t you think this is a bit much?” 
He aims his magical staff at you, luckily you are able to block it. “I am ridding the earth of you abominations!” 
“You’re an abomination too!” 
“Lies!” 
“Your descendant raised you, brought you back from the dead!” 
You spin around, avoiding his magic. “You have magic! You are now the very thing you despise yourself! How can you get rid of what keeps your heart beating at this very moment!” 
“I am doing what should have been done years ago.” 
“You’re going to die, and your magic will not be able to save you.” You raise your hand, trying to telepathically pull the staff away from him. 
“Stay away from her.” 
Why does this voice sound so familiar? 
The arrow flies past your head, in front of the resurrected man, only for him to use his magic and flip it. 
You cannot let it hit him or anyone else and put yourself before him to stop it. You spin around, landing on your back unable to catch your breath. 
Xavier runs towards you, lifting your upper body off the ground. 
“Get the others out of here,” you tell him once you can breathe again. 
“What?” He furrows his brows, mouth curling in disbelief. 
“You need to get the other students out of here. We cannot lose anyone else.” 
“I don’t-” 
“I have to help her,” you whisper. 
He helps you up, “I don’t like this idea.” 
“Good thing,” you snap the arrow and chuck it onto the ground. “You aren’t going to be here to see the rest of it… be careful.” 
“You, too.” You push him away when you sense Joseph aiming the damn staff at you. 
You stand beside Wednesday. “We have to aim for his-” 
“Heart, yes,” she cuts you off. “I didn’t realize you were aware.” 
“Let’s say, seeing the dead does have its perks at times. I expect no tears from you at my funeral.” 
“Don’t-” 
Xavier turns at her shout, his heart drops. 
You run at him as Bianca stabs the man in the back. You rub your hands together, thankful for Fester teaching you how to use his trick now more than ever. You hold him in place and call out for her. “Now, Wednesday!” 
She lifts the sword and stabs him in his black heart. 
You can’t remove your hands from him, not until he fully disappears even then you fall, eyes closing. 
The hands on your shoulders and whoever’s attempting to do CPR bring you out of your quick reenergize nap. 
You open your eyes and give three a tired smile. 
The artist helps you sit up and continues to hold you even as Wednesday wraps her arms around you. 
You smile and kiss the top of her head, letting her know it’s over (you hope, unless Nevermore isn’t done with you all). 
She forces herself off you, letting Bianca and Xavier help you up. 
You nod to the siren. “Let’s go find the others.” 
-
The four of you walk out of the school, searching for the waiting party. 
You lean against the boy throughout the entire walk. 
He hasn’t said a word to you, and you don’t know what you could say to him other than, “I’m sorry.” 
Enid rushes over to hug your cousin, giving you a moment to talk to him. 
“Why are you sorry?” 
“I believed you were the very thing that would terrorize the school when I shouldn’t have. I should have followed my heart.” 
“I think I can forgive you. I mean, you did take an arrow to the shoulder for me.” 
“And I would do it again if it meant I had your trust.” 
He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt over my trust.” 
“I should have listened to you.” 
The corner of his lip’s tugs upward, “yeah, maybe. But now that you’ve saved the school, I think I can understand where you were coming from.” 
“No, don’t do that.” 
“What?” 
“Don’t just brush it off, I know what I did wasn’t the nicest or most respectful thing to do when I’ve known you and have been your friend for three years. I know you; I have for years, and I shouldn’t have let someone else’s theories get into my head to ruin that trust.” 
He nods, tucking the hair blocking his view behind his ear. “I’ll take that into consideration.” 
Your lips twitch, “that’s all I ask.” 
Enid rushes over to you, hugging you not nearly as tightly as your cousin but enough to let you know how much she cares about you.
 -
You leave Wednesday to finish her novel while Thing finishes packing for her. You wonder around, waiting until it’s time to leave. 
“The feeling of eyes on me brings a chill up my spine and not in the fun way,” you think. “That would be a good thought to right down when I return to my room.” 
You turn, facing the stairs to find him watching you which may be creepy to some, but you find it to be rather sweet. 
He waves and leans against the railing. 
You walk up the stairs, wanting to talk to him before your dragged out of here. “Are your parents coming to pick you up?” 
He shrugs, “probably not… I got you something.” 
“Really?” You raise a brow. 
“It’s not much but it’ll be faster than the letters." He lifts the lid off the box, showing you your new phone. 
“Don’t expect a call,” you inform him, not wanting to hurt his feeling. You must really care about him if you’re taking his feelings into consideration. 
“I’m not.” 
You squint your eyes at him, “seems you know me well.” 
“That and,” he tucks his hair behind his ears. “I know you don’t like new things… at least, until you get the hang of them.” 
“I guess we’ll have to see about this then.” 
“I believe in you.” 
“I trust that you’ll have a normal summer?” 
“It might be fun if I get a phone call.” 
“Don’t push it.” 
He smiles, having a feeling that you’ll learn to use the phone faster to call him. “How’s your shoulder?”
“Fine. I’ve decided to let it heal on its own.” 
“No magic?” 
“I believe it would be wise to save my energy. I have a feeling we’re just getting started with Nevermore and all it has to offer.” You take the phone out of the box and hold it. “How do you use this dark box you call a phone?” 
He chuckles, taking it from you, “why are you calling it a dark box exactly?” 
“It’s painfully obvious.”
“Alright, I’ll give you that. I already programmed my phone number in here. What exactly you were looking for?” 
“I want to send you my aunt Morticia and Uncle Gomez’ address. I will be staying with Wednesday and her family this summer; we believe it would be wise if we stay together.” 
“Okay,” he shows you how to use the phone. 
“I cannot guarantee I’ll be able to remember all of this.” 
“As long as you can turn it on and remember to charge it, you’ll be alright,” he assures you. 
“Do you know if you’re ability can work over the phone?” 
He shrugs. “I’ve never tried before.” 
“Perhaps it could be our summer activity?” 
He nods, not at all hiding his smile when you said, “our activity”. It seems as though there’s a chance for him to ask you out in the near future. “Maybe.”
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spilledcoffeeclub · 1 month
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I can explain.
Well, can I?
Those who follow me or have followed my Filofax journey know that this image is Wrong. I use a Filofax for all my planning, memory keeping, journaling and commonplaceing. So what is this?
Honestly I blame Lindsey @/lindseyscribbles and her new moleskine daily journal. We’ve all seen it, it’s amazing. And usually I would say I’m sort of immune to fomo from watching other peoples notebooks, I’m so wrapped up in my own notebooks and honestly looking through my old notebooks is usually what gives me the most fomo I would say. But Lindsey’s video just struck a cord with me. I looked at her moleskine and I thought “that looks so nice”.
Moleskines in general were my first love, from before i knew how to plan (I very much believe planning and journaling etc is a skill just like drawing or taking neat photos, something you have to learn and practice) or what I would ever do with a notebook. They were and are very widely available where I live, can be found in any stationary section or bookstore quite easily. And they’re so fancy. Not fancy enough that you wouldn’t give a pocket moleskine to a 10 year old, but fancier than spiral bound notebooks or cheap notebooks marketed for kids. It felt like such a an adult thing, I guess.
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So I think that’s one of the reasons why Lindseys videos struck a cord within me, to begin with and I just couldn’t get the thought of a daily dated journal out of my mind. This is such a huge move (for me at least) from the ever adaptable Filofax with endless customization and flexibility. A Filofax is also such an open system, where as a moleskine daily journal is very much a closed system. It has dated days - meaning that if you fall sick for a week and don’t feel like writing in your little journal, you will always have those blank pages there. This was what scared me most with this and one of the reasons why I have stayed away from dated planners for such a long time. I just don’t trust that I’m gonna keep it up for the entire year and I don’t like backfilling, and previously that has sort of made it impossible for me to keep a dated journal. Having spent more time in the planner community though, I’ve realized that it’s okay to leave a couple of pages blank, and that your notebook will still have value if you have a couple of missed sections. Another thing that scared me was that what if I need more than one page to write about my day? Because we all have those days.
But still with all these thoughts bouncing around in my head, not to mention the terrible paper quality in moleskine - the fact that they differ from book to book, even within the same series or from the same place is just TRASH - there was something that felt so comforting about a dated journal.
And I think that was what really sold me in the end. I wanted that comfort of knowing where I would be for the next 12/18 months. Coming from Filofax with its endless customizability there is a constant upkeep with new pages and because there is always other options its easy to fall into the trap of never really stopping to adapt and pick at your system which just becomes exhausting after a while. With a bound, dated book you only have the system that they offer and you can manipulate it a bit but there’s really only so far you can go with it. And somewhere in between having these thoughts I had put the 18 months in my cart and ordered it.
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The experience has been maybe not as glamorous as i had initially hoped - a new sketchbook has a lot of promises and potential until you realize its just a couple of papers bound together and its you who have to bring the magic. I’m using the page very much as Lindsey does, a small timed to-do list and then just rambling about my day. It’s only been about a week and I feel like I’m still learning what I want from this. It’s not so much memory keeping, because nothing all that exiting happens in my life, but rather a sort of mixture of talking my way through various tasks I need to do, and small sort of check-ins on how I’m feeling and if I’m eating etc. It’s something I’ve been doing for a long time in both bound books and Filofax and while I dont put too much value into these inserts after they are done - as they don’t have a lot of substance - it is still something I need to do every day to function and having a separate space for this has just made a lot of the noice in my head just lessened a bit. I also think that this could be something I use for a longer period (I’m not gonna say this is the one because that would just jinx it) because its such low maintenance - there is no memory keeping or decorations or backlogging, just brain dump after brain dump. I’m also very much open to the fact that my page layout will shift as the year goes by, but that hopefully all the change will happen within these pages instead of in another system.
Obviously, I’m one week in and have a terrible track-record when it comes to dated planners, but I’m feeling optimistic. Has anyone else recently changed systems?
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So. It's kinda random but what if Platonic Yandere! Strawhats with Y/n who is an artist? And maybe one day they saw how Y/n drew one of them but doesn't want to show any?
Let me see!
Yandere Straw Hats x GN!Reader
1.4k words
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It was rare to get any time to yourself around here. Ever since you got mixed in with the Strawhat Crew, you felt like you always had someone attached to your hip or hovering over your shoulder. This made indulging in your personal hobbies difficult. Granted, it’s not like any of them would stop you from doing it, but you wanted to keep at least one thing for yourself.
Today was one of those instances where you were actually being left alone. You’re not sure how it happened this time. Maybe they all thought you were already spending time with someone else. Whatever, you’re not about to waste these precious moments pondering it.
Quietly slipping into your room, you pull your sketchbook and utensils out of their hiding spot. You curled up in your bed and flipped through the book until you found a blank page. Twirling the pencil between your fingers, you contemplate what to draw.
Despite your.. Complicated relationship with the crew, you couldn’t help but be inspired by them. Well, artistically speaking at least. They were constantly doing all these incredible feats and looking cool as hell while doing it. That, and it’s not like you saw much else besides them anyways.
After mulling it over, you start sketching, having decided on drawing Luffy today. He was an incredibly fun person to draw, what with his admittedly adorable baby face and his cartoonish anatomy. 
It didn’t take long for you to really get into the zone and be only focused on putting new lines onto the sheet of paper. You’re so focused that you don’t hear the door to your room open, nor the sound of sandals slapping across the floor until it’s too late.
“(Y/N)! Why are you hiding in here, I’ve been looking for you!” Luffy giddily rushed towards your bed and threw himself onto it, and subsequently you.
Frantically, you try to hide the sketch book under the covers, but he already saw it. Perking up, he tries snatching it out of your hand, “C’mon, why are you reading a book when you could be playing with me?!” 
Yes! You might be able to get out of this yet. If he thinks it’s a book, he definitely won’t try to read it and discover what it really is. “I like reading, Luffy. I just want to curl up with a good book once in a while,” as you’re saying this, you narrowly avoid letting it fall into his grabby hands, and slip it underneath yourself to sit on it.
He pouts and rests his face on his hands, still focused on the book, “Is it really that good that you want to read it more than hang out with me?”
You cringe a bit at how pointed the question was. There was no good answer here. Either you say no and he’ll immediately drag you off, or you say yes and run the risk of hurting his feelings. Then you’ll have to deal with a temper tantrum from him, and being admonished by the rest of the crew for being mean. “It’s not about it being better than hanging out with you, I can like doing more things you know.”
Luffy huffs at your indirect answer and begins tugging on the book again, “What’s it’s even about then?”
Oh shit. Um. Hm. Now you need to improvise. “It’s about,” you dart your eyes around looking for any inspiration to help you out. You’re in a plain room on a boat in the middle of the ocean, and of course the plot of literally every book you’ve ever read has completely vacated your brain.
You were apparently taking too long to tell him, so he just ripped it out from under you to investigate himself. “It can’t be that good if it’s that hard to explain. Why would you-” Luffy’s sentence died on his tongue as he opens it, right onto a picture of himself.
Panicking, you launch yourself onto his back in a desperate attempt to confiscate it, but he simply stretches his arms to keep it out of reach.
“This is awesome! Why didn’t you tell me you could draw so good?” Much to your chagrin, he starts flipping through it, now seeing sketches of the other members, too.
“Luffy! Give that back! I didn’t say you could look at that!” Blood rushed to your face from the embarrassment of being caught.
He peers over his shoulder at you, looking bewildered at your statement, “What’s the big deal? Don’t you want to share your talent?”
“No, I don’t! Just give it back and don’t tell anyone about it! Please!” You scrambled off the bed and leapt for the book, but he just snapped his arms back and continued the game of keep away.
You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to make sense of your words and actions. His eyes suddenly widened and he grinned as something clicked for him, “Oh I get it! You don’t know how good these are! You just need some help realizing it!” With that, he took off out of your room, sketchbook in hand.
“Get back here!” You sprinted after him, hoping you could get it back before he showed everyone, but deep down you knew it was already too late.
You were at a massive disadvantage here. Luffy was fast, especially when he had something he wasn’t supposed to. By the time you make it onto the deck, you’re horrified to see he’s already acquired an audience. Nami and Robin were seated at the table, with Sanji serving them some tea and snacks (which were currently being inhaled by Luffy while they were distracted by the book).
“You aren’t supposed to see that!” You hope that you’ll be able to get it out of Robin’s hands, but Luffy wraps one of his arms around you, leaving you immobilized at his side. Before you could beg them to please put it down, Luffy shoves a tiny cake into your mouth to keep you quiet.
“Go back a page, I think I saw one of me!” Nami was pestering Robin and trying to get it to herself, but any attempts at grabbing it were thwarted by an arm sprouting from the table and swatting her hands away. 
“In a minute, Nami, I’ll let you see when I’m finished,” Robin was entirely unbothered by her pleas (and yours), choosing to casually flip through each and every page with a small smile on her face.
Sanji was looking over them, smiling at the artwork, and was the first to acknowledge that you were standing right there. “These are incredible, though I’m not surprised that you would be so talented~!”
The sweet and genuine compliment almost made you cave in to accepting the situation, but you dismissed it. Swallowing the cake, you can finally speak again, “Please stop looking at that, I don’t like people looking at my sketchbook!” Especially not when the people in question kidnapped you and are actively holding you hostage.
“Oh? Are you shy about it? How cute,” Robin teased.
“It’s not-” you were once again cut off by another cake being stuffed into your mouth.
“What are you guys all looking at?” Chopper was now approaching with Usopp not far behind. Great. Why not just let everyone see it! 
Robin flipped to a page with Chopper on it and showed it to him, “(Y/N), took the time to draw all of us, it seems.”
Chopper’s eyes sparkled at the drawing, and against all logic he was somehow blushing??? “Oh I don’t look all cutesy like that, you jerk!” His dopey smile easily contradicted his words.
“I didn’t know you were also an artist. You should have told me sooner, I could’ve been teaching you! I’ll have you know I’ve tutored many famous artists! In fact, this reminds me- You drew me too?!” Usopp’s tale is cut short when Robin shows him a sketch of himself. 
You finally stop struggling, instead choosing to flop against Luffy in defeat. What’s the point? Damn near everyone has already seen it, you’re sure Zoro will wander on over here soon enough anyways. 
Upon feeling you give up, Luffy lets go and looks very pleased with himself. He unceremoniously shoves the little remaining food into his mouth and runs off calling for Zoro while Sanji gives chase, scolding him for eating all the food.
You just stood there, not knowing what else you could do. With Luffy gone, everyone else was crowding around you, lavishing you with compliments and asking questions all at once. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, all you could do was sulk as the last thing that you had just to yourself was taken away and thrown out into the open.
It was bound to happen eventually, you suppose.
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comicaurora · 1 year
Note
Hey Red!
I have a writing question I’d like to ask, if that’s cool with you!
When it comes to starting a new story, big or small, pantsing or structuring, with black tea or chamomile, do you have any tips for, er, actually pulling the trigger and beginning? I don’t mean the “accusatory blank page”, I mean in getting to the “I genuinely believe this is a story worth telling and that should be told by me” mindset sufficient to commit. (Insofar as there’s a difference.)
Asking you because you’re someone who has excellent and proven skills in showwomanship, creativity, execution and all-round good storytelling vibes. Cuz while I’ve studied story structure and writing advice aplenty… It’s hard to take the dive when you’ve only ever been in the kiddie pool, so to speak.
Thanks either way!
Aw shucks!
I kinda feel like there's an intermediate stage here that I usually hit first, which is when I've been telling a story for myself for so long that I start feeling like I don't want to keep it to myself anymore.
A lot of the stuff I write or draw is just for me - stuff where I enjoy the act of creation or use it to flesh out and play with a concept I've been toying with. Sketchbook stuff that doesn't have an outside audience in mind, just stuff that I like. These aren't stories that have the end goal of sharing them - hell, half of them are just comic or prose adaptations of story beats that stuck with me that I wanted to play around with as practice and for fun. The rest of it is sketch pages of characters, doodles of scenes or snippets of prose writing built around a single scene or concept.
I think that the creative urge, when examined, should be subdivided into two extremely distinct subsections for clarity; the desire to make, and the desire to share. Not every person shares both in equal measure - in fact I'd say it's much more common for them to exist independently. The desire to share isn't limited to art you yourself created, either - fandom is constructed from a massive excess of the desire to share, passing around a story for examination and discussion because it is inherently fun to share the experience, and most of us can relate to the burning need to talk about this thing that's in my brain. And there's plenty of art that results from the desire to make that has none of the desire to share, ref cit everything in a sketchbook or every private writing exercise done for the joy of it. Neither element can be forced, and there's nothing wrong with either one existing without the other.
For me at least, the desire to share builds slowly for the larger projects. I might be eager to share a doodle or a sketch I think people will get a kick out of, but something bigger and more complicated will stay in my brain for much longer, and might never make it out. For me, Aurora started as just a playground for me to write and draw in, but over the years it built up to something I wanted to share - something I felt I'd be betraying if I let it sit in my head. It kind of just grew naturally, and if I'd tried to force it beforehand I would've felt self-conscious and uncomfortable rather than getting any joy out of the act of sharing.
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propertyofkylar · 6 months
Note
“ok i know i say this all the time but i really do wanna write more pleaseeee send me requests i will write whatever you want (within reason)”
alright, here’s a scenario: pc is hanging out with kylar at the park, they’ve been sitting in comfortable silence for a while, kylar’s drawing smth, his eyes focused on his notebook, when he feels a sudden pressure on his shoulder. pc has dozed off and leaned their head on his shoulder.
IF NOBODY GOT ME I KNOW SLP ANON GOT ME
The only sounds in the park were the scratch of Kylar’s pencil on paper, birds chirping, and faint distant chatter.
It was one of those warm late spring days that made everything feel cozy. The two of you had been sitting for silence for some time. Kylar wasn’t sure how long it had been. But it was nice. There was something about you that felt so safe. He didn’t feel the need to fill the air with unnecessary conversation. You were there because you wanted to be near him. That thought alone made his heart swell.
He was about to turn to ask your opinion on something he wanted to add to his drawing when he felt a sudden pressure on his shoulder. Kylar froze. Ever so slowly, he turned his head to the side. Your eyes were closed, your breathing steady.
You were fast asleep.
Instantly, Kylar’s mind began racing. He felt as though his heart might beat out of his chest. What should he do? Wait, what was he thinking? He shouldn’t do anything. He shouldn’t move a muscle. You looked so peaceful. He couldn’t bear the thought of possibly waking you up.
Kylar took the opportunity to look closer at your face. You looked different when you were sleeping. The stress you carried had melted away. No furrowed brow or slight frown was present. Just a beautiful, calm face.
Warmth spread through Kylar’s chest as he stared at you. The fact that you felt safe enough around him to fall asleep on his shoulder had him giddy. The feeling made him want to get up and jump around. As it was, he was practically vibrating in his seat. But he didn’t dare move and risk waking up.
Gently, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. The sunlight made your hair feel warm. With a smile, he rested his cheek on the top of your head. You murmured something in your sleep and shifted. Kylar was afraid you had woken up but when he whispered your name, you didn’t respond.
“I love you,” he said quietly. “I love you so, so much.”
Kylar squeezed his own eyes shut, trying to commit everything about this fleeting moment to memory. When he reopened them he flipped to a blank page in his sketchbook and quickly began to draw, hoping to capture every last detail.
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ravenmichaelisstuff · 2 years
Text
I think A LOT about Soap trying to give back the childhood Ghost lost. (Part 5)
Ghost sat at his desk, writing down reports from the last couple of missions. Writing down names of soldiers that got KIA, getting their family's contacts sorted out. He was glad that he wasn't the one who had to write the letters with condolences, it was Price's duty. Still, writing down dozens of names every few weeks was wearing off on his mental state. Sometimes he wished he was a lower rank, so all this paperwork wouldn't be his problem.
Ghost hear familiar food steps outside his room, soon after his door swung open and constant blabbering filled his room.
"My ma just called- said my old man feels better already. I told you about his injury, dumb man shouldn't be climbing a ladder at this age. Good that my sister is-"
"I am busy now, Soap" Ghost stopped him. Soap walked up to him and looked over his shoulder.
"Ugh... I could not be doing paperwork, I would fuck it up immediately or leave it for the last minute."
"I am gonna fuck up if I don't finish those by the end of the week."
 Soap stood over Ghost for a second, looking at all the paperwork work. "Alright, Lt. gimme some of them and I will help."
"Johnny you just said-"
"I can do this with clear instructions, Price will have to manage through my spelling mistakes."
Ghost looked at Soap, not knowing if he is grateful or just tired. He didn't realize that he was tearing a corner of one of the pages. "Ok, grab yourself a chair." 
Soap patted Ghost's back and sat next to him, taking in all the work before him. Ghost gathered some of it and passed it to the sergeant explaining what needed to be done.
They worked in silence for like... what, 3 minutes? After that Soap's leg started bouncing, brushing Ghost's knee every now and then. He huffed under his mask.
"So, you were talking about your sister."
"Ye won't mind me talking now?"
"I have divided attention, Johnny." And from that moment Soap talked about the situation in his family house, leg no longer moving. Surprisingly the Scott's energetic voice helped Ghost to fall into a nice work rhythm.
*******
They were filling out the paperwork for at least an hour now and they were both exhausted. Soap wasn’t even talking now, just writing things down and grabbing a corrector when Ghost pointed out a mistake every now and then. Soap was glad that he wasn’t very judgmental about it.
“What about we take a break, Lt.?” Soap leaned back in his chair. “Ye have a whole ass week for this.”
Ghost looked with a blank gaze at all the papers. “Sure, I had enough.”
And they sat in comfortable silence for a while, but Soap wasn’t one to sit in silence for long periods of time, especially when around Ghost. They could be doing so much together!
“Ah’ have a plan!” Soap perked up.
“I am saying ‘No’ to whatever it is.” Lieutenant declared.
“Ye are no fun, just- Do you have like… Who am I asking.” Soap stood up. “I will be right back.”
“I said-” But Johnny was already gone. Ghost didn’t know how the man could just ignore him and what’s weirder he didn’t know why he was letting him. Soap could tell him that he takes him on a trip to some distant part of the world and he would follow- no without bitching about it, but he would. And he didn’t know how to feel about it. Probably panicked.
Soap came back holding his sketchbook and a worn-out, flat box. He sat on the floor, back resting against Ghost’s bed. He gestured for Ghost to sit beside him. Ghost groaned, but did as Johnny wanted. It’s not like he had anything better to do- except the pile of work.
“You came here to brag about your drawing skills?”
“Oy! Ah’ don’t brag!” Soap clearly felt insulted by that.
“You bring it everywhere, Johnny.”
“But I don’t show anyone- That’s beside the point. We are gonna draw something.” He started to go through his sketchbook in search of a blank page.
“I can’t dr-” Ghost could swear he could see his mask on one of the pages, it was for a second before Soap got to the blank pages. Soap couldn’t see the blush that crept on his covered face. 
“I got my old crayons, so we won’t be able to create masterpieces anyway. Yoe are not getting out of this, Lt.” Soap scooted closer to perch his journal on both of their knees. They had to sit with their legs flushed together. How did Ghost not mind?
Soap stuck the small box between their knees. “Come on, you have one page and I draw on the other.” He already had a green crayon in hand. “You can just draw whatever comes to yer mind. It really helps with stress, well - helps me at least.”
Ghost certainly needed that now, so he grabbed himself a black crayon. Soap smiled and focused on his own side, while Ghost doodled mindlessly. It actually was pretty soothing, especially since their hands were brushing against each other. Ghost was so focused on not freaking out that he didn’t realize that Soap was now looking at his page.
“Is that a carrot?” Soap pointed to one of the doodles. Ghost sighed.
“It was supposed to be a nuke.”
“Ooooh, yeah I can see that now.” Soap was now totally in Ghost’s space, drawing things right next to his ‘drawings’. “What about this?”
“Half a dog.”
Soap snorted. “You are terrible, Simon.” They drew together for a while, Soap’s page forgotten.
“What about you draw something big to finish the page?” Sergeant proposed.
“Wouldn��t know what.”
“First thing that comes to yer mind. I will close my eyes, and see if I can tell what it is.” He chuckled and closed his eyes.
The first thing that comes to mind, huh? Ghost looked for a minute on relaxed Soap, his eyes closed, smiling. Right next to him.
He got to work. What he drew did not look like he wanted at all, but he really tried. And come on, he doesn’t know when was the last time he held a crayon in his hands. When he finished, he just moved his leg, to let Johnny know. He opened his eyes.
In the middle of the page, was a huge wonky drawing of him smiling. 
Soap’s heart swelled up- the first thing Simon thinks about is him,
I AM SPEED. I don't know why but this thing puts me in such a creative mood and I get so much motivation from all the comments <3 It's just so relaxing to write those. I hope you all like it <3
I might be projecting on Soap with the dyslexia.
Oh and I forgot I did this because I felt like it would be adorable.
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lilacmingi · 1 year
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MY MUSE
My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works
Word count: 840
Pairing: Hyunjin x fem reader (all my imagines are fem reader but there are no gendered terms in this one)
Note: I enjoy drawing and painting, so this might be a bit of a self-indulgent drabble haha
★ ────────────────── ★
Art supplies sat neatly on the table in front of you, each one ready to use. Pencils, sharpeners, erasers, and blending tools were laid out before you. Anything you could possibly need was within reach and at your disposal.
Hyunjin's sketchbook sat across from yours lying open on a blank page, his supplies lined up tidily beside the book. Your setup looked very similar; your pencil case was positioned beside your sketchbook, your own sharpener right beside it, as well as your eraser.
Hyunjin had some time off and so the two of you had planned to have a night of drawing together.
You watched as he grabbed his plastic headband and put it on, pulling his lengthy onyx hair away from his face, displaying his perfect features. He then grabbed his phone, humming to himself as he scrolled through his music library perusing the different genres and selecting a song to play before taking a seat across from you.
He gave you a gentle smile. "You ready to get started?"
"I am." You nodded.
You opened your sketchbook to an empty page, unzipping your pencil case and pulling one of them out. Unsure of what to draw, you sat idly for a few seconds, twiddling your pencil while waiting for inspiration to strike. That's when your eyes landed on the man sitting before you, already hard at work sketching across his page.
Your muse.
The tip of your freshly-sharpened pencil hit the page and you got to work, sketching out shapes and rough outlines, glancing up at Hyunjin every few seconds to make sure your draft matched the model.
The ball of your socked foot tapped against the carpet, matching the rhythm of the relaxing indie song that played from Hyunjin's Bluetooth speaker as you allowed yourself to get immersed in your work. All of your focus was zeroed in on the masterpiece in progress. The sketch was coming along well, though there was a couple times you had to keep erasing the lips and redrawing them because your sketch just wasn't doing justice to the real thing.
You loved this. Sitting peacefully while drawing with your loving boyfriend and listening to music was something you've been wanting to do with Hyunjin for a while. Even though there were no words being exchanged and you were both sitting in silence while concentrating on your own artworks, it was still absolutely perfect. One of the many things you loved about Hyunjin was being able to be in his presence and not having to say a word. Wether that be drawing, cuddling, or watching a movie. Just having him there was enough.
Your sketching ceased for a few seconds as you swapped out your pencil for one with darker lead so you could begin shading and darkening the lines of your drawing.
No more than thirty seconds later you were back to work, dragging the sharpened edge of the lead along the faded lines you'd roughly sketched out earlier.
"Relax, love." Hyunjin chuckled, pressing his thumb between your brows to smooth out the creases.
Your face relaxed under his touch as you let out a soft chuckle. "Sorry."
"You're really focused, aren't you?"
"Yeah."
"That's cute." He murmured, his eyes lowering to your sketchbook which you were quick to cover with your hands.
"No peeking."
"Alright, alright." He chortled, picking up his pencil once again and proceeding with his sketch.
The supplies which had once been laid out neatly were now scattered across the table, each one being dropped without a care as to where it landed. Neither of you had time to gently place down each item once you were finished with it, you were far too focused on your sketches. An unknown amount of time had passed since you first sat down, both you and Hyunjin getting lost in your craft. You were so engrossed you didn't get a chance to see what he was drawing.
"Alright." You huffed out, pushing your hair away from your face. "I'm finished."
Hyunjin was quiet for a moment as he quick scribbled his signature at the corner of the page.
"Me too." He announced.
You held your masterpiece to your chest, not wanting him to see just yet.
"Are you ready?" You asked.
He nodded and you flipped the page around.
Hyunjin's brows raised as he took the paper from you so he could look at it closer.
"You drew me." He stated in awe.
"Of course I did. You're my muse."
He chuckled softly, handing you his drawing.
To your surprise, an image of you sitting and drawing was portrayed in shades of gray pencil lead.
The both of you were drawing each other without even knowing.
"You're my muse too." He mentioned.
Your eyes gazed over the sketch in awe, admiring his seamless shading and the way he captured your features so well. He truly was blessed with a talent for art.
"You made me look so beautiful." You murmured softly under your breath.
"Because you are beautiful, darling."
★ ────────────────── ★
Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!
DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way
★ ────────────────── ★
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featherandferns · 20 days
Text
guilty as sin : where are they now?
jj maybank x routledge!fem!reader
word count: 700
read guilty as sin (part 1) | Thank you so so much for 1000 followers!!! Since starting this blog in May of 2023, I have written so many characters and storylines. I get so many lovely anon messages telling me about their favourite universes and wondering what happens next after my fics have ended. So, I thought to celebrate 1000 followers, I’d indulge. Here’s the (current) where are they now for all of my fics so far…
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Raleigh airport was rather slow paced compared to Denver. People moved with minimal urgency and staff didn’t feel the need to yell at half-asleep passengers at three in the morning at TSA. It didn’t feel all that long ago that you were here last, but as a person, you feel years older. Your eyes stay steady on JJ, who’s wandered up to a departures board and is studying it intently. He turns around, half-smiles, and walks back over to you, hands in his pockets. 
“A’right,” he says once he’s near. “Says Gate B21. They ain’t boarding yet but…”
“I should probably go through soon,” you mumble, finishing his sentence for him. You purse your lips and look at the TSA queue. It’s not very long. Sensing your hesitance, JJ runs a hand down your arm, guiding your attention back to him. There’s a queasy smile on his face. It’s reassuring but also somewhat reluctant. 
“I’ll see you soon,” JJ says, “just two weeks.”
“In hell,” you mutter. 
Chuckling shortly, JJ shrugs. “Yeah, well, two weeks for a life in Kildare. A deal’s a deal.”
“True,” you sigh. “Just kinda wish you could come with.”
“Same.”
The PSA announcement for a different flight serves well as a prompt to go through TSA. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable. Besides, JJ was right: only two weeks. You had your bag full of ever growing art supplies, including the paints from JJ, to keep distracted. Your mom had “requested” you return to Colorado at least three times a year, one of which being for one of the holidays. It was finally time to hold up your end of the deal. 
“Well, guess I’ll see you later,” you say, smiling up at him. 
JJ dips his head and plants a kiss to your lips. It’s short and fleeting, but stings just as much knowing that you won’t feel it for two weeks. It’s a tough pill to swallow after being attached at the hip for the past three months. 
“See you around, Little Routledge,” JJ tries to joke.
He picks up your carry on and hands it to you, and you begin to walk towards the TSA line. You turn one last time to give him a wave and JJ waves back, smiling that same smile from before. Two weeks, you tell yourself. Two weeks of your mother’s prying questions and her boyfriend’s abusive arrogance. Your friends from Colorado made you somewhat excited to return. They’d been making plans since you said you were coming back to visit, including a three-day stay at a campsite by the lakes, which already granted you some escape. Besides, you knew this time that you were coming back to Kildare. More importantly, you knew you were coming back to JJ. With that final reminder, you pass through security and venture to your gate. As promised, you drop JJ a text when you board and another just before you take off, switching to aeroplane mode. 
About an hour into your flight, you decide to dig through your backpack to retrieve your smallest palette of paints. The pocket sized sketchbook you pull out serves almost as a journal for Kildare, keeping track of the houses, the stores, the beaches and the marshes. Littered amongst the scenery are sketches and paintings of your friends and, of course, JJ. There’s a couple of pages littered with JJ’s doodles too. Cartoonish things, one of which is you circled in a love heart. It’s purposefully sappy and sweet, and it makes you smile every time you flip through that page. Just before the next blank page, something catches your eye. A short note that you didn’t write. You recognise the hand though. It’s JJ. 
Little Routledge
I’m not good at writing letters so I’ll keep it brief. I miss you and can’t wait for you to come back home. Stay safe in Colorado and call whenever you need. Happy Thanksgiving. 
Love JJ
You smile to yourself. It’s nothing that Shakespeare might envy but you know JJ isn’t the sort to write letters or leave love-notes. These few lines mean the world and more. You’re careful not to mark the page as you begin to sketch on the opposite side of the book. Today’s drawing? Of JJ, just moments before, as you recalled him in the airport, waving goodbye (for now). 
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