#i couldn't leave this to the sketchbook I Had to color it

[amphibiousdestroyer]

I dunno I'd say Etrigan is most pettable.... granted beast boy and creeper are up there green hair or not

Ehhh... Maybe if you're Zatanna

Otherwise you're liable to lose some fingers....

[narislvr]

domestic!ellie who finds herself being completely smitten by you during your weekly movie night. ✧.*

a short and quick one-shot ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

Palestine resources !!

DVD's litter the mahogany coffee table in messy arrays of colors and titles as you search for a specific disc for tonight's movie night. It wasn't a movie you and ellie had watched together yet, but you knew it was somewhere in your collection as you hunched over the edge, eyeing each and every disc the two of you owned.

"does it really take this long to pick a movie, babe?" ellie would tease, clicking her tongue as she set down two of your blankets on the couch behind you before crossing her forearms over the crown of your head and resting her chin on them. a huff leaves your lips at her comment as you tilt your head upwards, her playful gaze meeting yours through your lashes and her messy bangs.

"hey, you choose the same movie every week. You have absolutely no room to talk," you quip back, a fond look in your eyes as you watch her chuckle in amusement before glancing back down and finally spotting the DVD you had been searching for. "aha! found it!" you cheer, holding the disc up for ellie to see.

"...mama-mia? babe, I swear if this is one of those musicals you like.-"

"you'll love it. promise." you interrupt, a giddy chime in your voice as you carefully shake her off and get up to insert the beloved disc into the waiting dvd player. seeing your excitement, ellie only shook her head while letting out a playful overdramatic sigh.

"atleast pick up your mess first."

──

so maybe ellie did "love" it, but not because of the plot nor the abundance of ABBA classics. Instead it was because of the way it seemed to bring you so much joy as you smiled from ear to ear and you sang along to each and every song while commenting on little parts of the movie she otherwise wouldn't have picked up on. it was endearing, and although you were generally a rather bright person, she couldn't help but admire the genuine light in your eyes as you watched the film she had learned was your favorite.

her sketchbook was on her lap, her gaze flickering from you down to the page every so often as she scribbled down little doodles of you singing or mimicking certain actions from the characters on screen. you were too busy attempting to harmonize with "donna and the dynamites" to super trooper, that you didn't notice the way her attention was solely on you as she drew a portrait of your side profile. the light from the screen illuminated your features, accentuating the curves and edges of your face with a soft glow that she swore made you look almost ethereal. in the moment you were her muse, regardless of whether your voice cracked or went off key, and all she wanted to do was capture this moment and live in it forever.

"you're not paying attention, els." she hears you whine as your attention finally shifts back to ellie who was still sketching away in her sketchbook.

"Of course I am," she responds, looking up at the screen for a second and realizing she didn't actually know what was going on as she watched sophie help one of the three men crawl out of under a table. you raise a brow at her and she gives you a sheepish smile in return as she puts her sketchbook to the side and signals for you to lean closer to her to which you happily ablige.

"doesn't seem like it," you hum, sneaking a glance at the open book at ellies side before shifting slightly to rest your head against her chest. her arm wraps around your waist, her fingers gently resting on your stomach as she presses a kiss to your forehead.

"but I am, promise." she responds, deciding to finally pay attention to the film despite her fingers itching to finish her drawing. It was a habit she had picked up during her time with Joel, always sketching little pictures of things she found interesting in the films and writing down quotes she would later recite to the older man whenever there was a chance to reference them. she found herself doing that less nowadays but it was still something she enjoyed doing, especially in special situations like these where it was you she was drawing instead.

as the movie neared it's end, she found that maybe she could appreciate the plot even if it was rather odd in her opinion. your singing had quieted down to small hums as you slowly began to drift off against ellie's chest, the rise and fall of her chest lulling you into a sense of comfort despite your attempts to stay awake until the end of the movie. she would definitely tease you about it tomorrow morning, especially after all the times you swore you'd stay up despite your track record of falling asleep. It was cute, a sweet moment she wouldn't replace with anything in the world.

she brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, a fond look in her eyes at her feather light touch before she carefully reaches for her sketchbook with the hand that wasn't holding you to her.

she flips it open to the page she had been drawing on before scribbling something down in messy handwriting under your portrait.

"Mamma mia, here I go again ,, My, my, how can I resist you?"

it was dumb, and the song didn't necessarily fit the situation, but she knew you'd get a kick out of it the day she'd finally show you the sketchbook filled with pictures of you.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Ej, Lj, Masky, Hoodie, Masky, Ticci Toby and Bloody Painter x reader who draws them

Prize 5/5 for @reivelmin !! I hope you've enjoyed all of your prizes WOOHOO!! I had a blast writing them, hardly ever get the excuse to write for some of these characters EHEHEHEHE

EYELESS JACK

I've always headcanoned that Jack was always a bit of an artist himself, although the most he does it sketch every now and then to keep his kind busy. He points out some techniques he recognizes and asks you about it. It.. actually takes him a moment to realize that all of the drawings are him. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head before he tries to move on. This opens the window for the two of you to draw together every now and then.. though jack is always a little embarrassed.. flustered.. with the knowledge that you have so much of him in your book

LAUGHING JACK

Very loud when saying he loves it. Hes flipping through the pages before pausing, looking you dead in the eye. He makes a comment about how you must be soooooo obsessed with him. Hes teasing you, of course! He offers to draw you in return.. though dont expect anything crazy, Jack's not.. the best artist- and hes okay with that! Loves looking through your art whenever you offer it. Would kick his feet in the air while looking through the pages. Sometimes you give him sketches to color, to keep him busy while you have to go do something

MASKY

He already knew what you were drawing him before you ever have the chance to show him. The man is silent and is constantly keeping an eye on you.. he does NOT know how to be a normal roommate!! You probably dont get the chance to show him yourself, because he points at a stray pencil marking that you forgot to erase. Worst jumpscare of your life, if you werent already aware of his presence in the room... he.. actually gives a thumbs up. Which doesnt seem like much but considering that he doesnt really emote, that's a huge thing... now does he think it's a little odd that you have a bunch of sketches where hes the reference? A little, but he does offer some good poses and lighting due to him tending to lurk in the shadows

HOODIE

Very similar to Masky but at least he pretends to not know. You walk up to him with your sketchbook and hes so obviously playing dumb but its.. sweet that hes pretending. He takes his time looking through all of the art, where some of the others get too excited and flip through it all. He doesnt talk, but he does communicate that he thinks it all looks great via sign.. oh he would definitely start leaving sticky notes with doodles around for you to find

TICCI TOBY

I think Toby would be a little overwhelmed, he didnt think anyone would be interested in him enough to want to fill an entire sketchbook with him. He tries to cover up his shock by lightly making fun of the situation. Though every tease he tries to draw out falls flat, as everytime he goes to poke fun of something about the art he trails off. Besides, he couldn't bring himself to actually make fun of the stuff you make.. if it's a gift, you offer to take it back but he quickly shuts that down. Its like the Bob's burger friendship bracelet audio, "no fuck off its mine"

BLOODY PAINTER

As an artist himself, he asks you about what materials you used as well as the techniques you used! Unlike EJ, Helen is more thorough in his questioning and knows a lot more fancy terms.. he points out the good parts of your pieces, and catches himself before giving his criticisms.. he at least makes sure that the criticism is wanted before just unloading (and even then hes constructive! Hes well aware that just dunking on someone does nothing to help them grow). It actually strikes his ego a lot that you would dedicate so much time and material to just him, and it inspires him to make something for you in return. If he didnt know you were an artist prior to this, he offers to paint with you.. whether as a collab or just simply working parallel to one another! Just please pay no mind to him staring at you more intently while hes at his canvas...!

[leonsthunderthighs]

Simple Sketches

I drew a picture of him and bro is GORGEOUS (probably taking too much pride in it but no matter-)

☆RE4R Leon era <3

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"Alright perfect, stay just like that" You giggled through your words. Your eyes quickly focusing on Leon's smiling expression and back to the off-white sketchbook paper.

"Gotcha" He focused on keeping one expression and kept his eyes on you. A smile pursed your lips as you slowly admired his features and dragged the pencil imitating what you see.

Leon loved the concentration you had trying to perfectly capture his handsome portrait. The smile slowly fading while your brows furrowed, craning your neck closer and closer to the paper. His eyes wandered down curiously watching your process.

You glance back up seeing your boyfriend leaning from his position, "Leon quit being nosey, we just started." You bantered pushing back his face with your pencil against his forehead.

"Fine fine, as you wish." He said while slightly laughing and leaning back to his position. Before going back to drawing you fix his head position by gently tilting his chin, "There."

You quickly went back to drawing, the pencil scratching the paper letting you capture his features. His parted blonde hair that sat perfectly around his jawline and high cheekbones. The beauty marks that freckled his cheeks down to his neck and Adam's apple. The warm sunlight accentuated parts of his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, and his pretty lips that always has something smart to say. His dark circles that formed over the course of years made his pearly blues brighter, eyes being windows to the soul is a phrase that's almost been overused but you couldn't help but think it was true for Leon. His eyes matched the fighting spirit he has, you looked up to and admired his strength, whether it be physical nor mentally. Just the utter thought of having to do the grimey work he's forced to put through leaves a sour taste on your tongue and a heavy sense of dread weigh in your stomach.

Your focus was broken as you stared back at his lips trying to capture the soft shading. They were such a deep peachy color and the warm light only added to the sight, your eyes didn't come back down to the paper to imitate what you see so you stared at the curling smile forming on his lips. "It's rude to stare you know", his words came out smoothly in a quiet breath.

"You really make it hard not to Leon." You continued to just lovingly memorize portrait. A quiet chuckle came from the back of his throat as he left a gentle kiss upon your lips. You hummed gratified by the feeling of him pressing his lips against yours, the pads of his fingers rubbed circles against your skin.

Comfortable silence fell within the house as Leon pulled his head back to rest his forehead against yours, basking in your presence and wishing he could stay like this with you.

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Sorry I disappeared on you guys 😭 I have a lot of drafts but none of them end up getting finished and they just collect dust BUT I GOT THIS ONE DONE tho its a little short but still its so soft to me </3

Also if you see any spelling/grammar errors just pretend you didn't see that

[dumplingsfordays]

you're so pretty, you're so popular

albedo x gn!reader [university au]

genre - fluff

summary - albedo has a little (not really) crush on a semi-popular kid at his school.

cw!: jealousy, albedo's obsessed with you (in a good way I promise), professor ships you two

note - i used to simp for albedo so hard and then I stopped playing genshin... he's still pretty boy in my book though. feel like they did his hair dirty though, it's supposed to be so fluffy and they just massacred it :(

and as always, thank you for reading!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Albedo was jealous of your friends. That was the one simple truth that he never wanted to admit to himself. He'd see you laughing along with them after you'd shown them a funny video and wish that he was the one that was holding you from falling backwards onto the grass as you shook from incessant, adorable giggles, that he was the one whose face hurt from smiling at your radiant expression everyday.

As much as he loved truth, he couldn't bring himself to face it.

And he'd sit on a bench in the shade of an oak tree during lunch, whose relatives sparingly dotted the small field on which you were talking with your friends, and in a sketchbook he would draw you and him on that same grass, blanketed in sunshine as you talked about anything you'd want to. After all, hearing your voice was enough for him to break an uncommon smile.

Albedo did this day after day, and luckily for him, you'd sit on that grass with your friends consistently from midday to 1:30. It was a nice break from the otherwise monotonous existence he led - study, eat, study, walk, draw, work, eat, sleep.

Oddly enough, almost every activity on that list somehow related back to you. The margins of his notes were occasionally occupied by studies of your eyes and hair; when he'd eat, his meals were inspired by what you ate for lunch; his walks were accompanied by music that you'd recommended to him some time ago; and when he slept, his brain would sometimes conjure up images of you hugging him, saying that he'd need to hold out just a little longer and maybe when he has the chance, he'll ask you out. Drawing brought him passion and he did use it as a side source of income, but lately they'd been plagued by splintered fragments of your soul.

He did it automatically, really - he'd add in a dash of your favorite color, draw a person in the background with the same hairstyle that you usually wore, and one time, when Albedo had been painting a portrait for his art midterm, he sketched out a scarily accurate representation of your countenance, usual accessories and all.

He immediately erased it, of course. You were in the same class as him and if he brought the canvas to the professor in front of you, there was no way that you wouldn't be weirded out by him. Who does that, anyway? He'd be better off painting his little cousin, Klee, who was a ray of sunshine and was bound to earn him a hundred.

The stars aligned in such an unpredictable way for him towards the end of the year after a particularly tiring lecture. You, in all your bright, angelical beauty, walked right up to him as he was about to leave and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, 'Bedo!" you smile as he whips his head around to face you. You don't know what you do to him when you call him by his nickname - he practically melts each time.

"Hey." He's panicking - it's obviously not a bad thing, you're smiling, you don't think he's creepy or annoying or anything, so everything's okay, as long as he plays it cool and-

"So, I've been thinking," you start, averting your eyes to look at the floor and then back to him. "We haven't really hung out in a bit. Do you want to grab a bite somewhere sometime? It's okay if you can't, I know you're super busy and all but I found this super nice place that just opened nearby and I thought that it'd be nice to try it out."

He swallows. "Y-yeah, that would be nice-"

"Great!" Albedo blinks at your rather loud interruption and you clear your throat awkwardly. "Um, I mean, um, yeah! So, I think you have my number, so just text me when you're free and and we'll figure it out."

You'd never tell it to anyone but you find his small, shy grin so endearing. He stutters a little when he replies but you think it's cute - he'd never know that unless you told him straight to his face though.

"Sounds- sounds good, yeah."

"So, we're set?"

He nods and grabs his bag, offering to walk with him. You accept with a smile, to which his face reddens, and as you walk out together the professor sighs.

"Young love," he chuckles. "Guess they'll be sitting together from now on."

[blackopals-world]

Could I request Vil, Malleus, Ruggie and Jamil with a Fem!Yuu who is a seamstress that is really, really good at sewing, knitting, embroidery, and other forms of textile design.

If you're to busy to do this request, I completely understand.

Love your profile picture btw, it's so cute!

~Sure I got time~

Tailor-Made

Seamstress!Yuu x Vil , Ruggie, Malleus, and Jamil

(NRC is a mixed school with boys and girls.)

Crewel stepped over the scattered bolts of fabric as he tried to get to the bed. The room was a mess as always with sketchbook paper littering that girl's desk. Said girl was in a deep burrowing in layers and layers of loose fabric, pillows and discarded ribbons.

"My dear pup, I don't know how you will manage to get to class when you can't even wake yourself up." Crewel said to his ward as he pinched her cheek.

The girl grunted and tried to pull away before mumbling in her sleep."Five more minutes."

Crewel stared at her incredulously as he pulled harder.

"Five minutes, soon you will have no minutes! The carriage will be here soon and you're room is a mess, your hair is matted, and your not ready for school!" Crewel was rather upset.

If he had it his way she'd be shipped off to an all girls school in France but she chose NRC for some reason. Sure, it wasn't a bad school and he could look out for her, but the boys there where characters. Why did she want to transfer there?

After prodding her, Yuu eventually shook herself awake and prepared for the big day. Her stuff was packed and her familiar Grim was at her side.

"The carriage is here!"Crewel called up the stairs. The girl came running down with her hair combed and uniform tidy.

Crewel sighed fondly over the girl. She had grown so much from when she was just little pup. Her mother would be so proud.

Divya, was an extraordinary woman. He misses her dearly but her daughter was still his treasure.

"Divus? I'm leaving."Yuu looked at him with concern in her eyes.

"Oh right," He said pushing his feelings down as he kissed her forehead "Be good pup. I'll see you there."

"See ya, Da- Divus!" She panicked before rushing out the door.

With that she entered her coffin and had Grim stay at home until she the entrance ceremony was over. When she awoke it was time to stand before the magic mirror.

Her soul resonated with one dorm one made for her: Pomefiore

She stood up a little straighter when she heard it. Part of her had doubts but now she knew. Her smile was wide as she saw her guardian smiling at her as though there was no doubt. She was just like him and Divya, people who understood beauty and perfection.

Vil

Being a housewarden meant keeping his students in line. That meant also keeping students from fighting. The girls were currently dealing with a problem. One he had to take control on.

The new girl had caused a mess involving dye. Vil would have to punish her by making her clean. Though he couldn't help but do it half-heartedly.

She was rather meek about the whole ordeal and apologized over and over. She had done it with the best intentions of adding a color to her list of fabrics and it just got everywhere.

He couldn't deny that it was a rather nice shade of lavender. Still, he could see this becoming a problem. He chose to give her a room where she could do her dyeing hobby in peace. They had a room for such things anyways even if it was abandoned.

Form that day he rarely saw her. When he did she was scurrying around campus gathing materials or with friends.

He found out why from the girls. Yuu was working on something big and they were helping. They were bubbly and giddy as can be when he asked but they never told what I was. They did say something about the upcoming ball and cheaking on her. His curiosity peeked, he entered the sewing room.

The room wasn't dusty like before but the smell of old wood lingered mixed with perfume and paint. Yuu stood in the center with glasses perched on her nose and measuring tape around her neck. She was placing pins on the hem of a gown. Her eyes focused on getting it just right. She nodded before pulling out her pen and using her unique magic [Let's Stick Together] causing the pieces of fabric to fuse together.

She fingers danced across the waterfalls of handspun lace as she pulled, cut, and sowed the gown. It was the same color that drew Vil's eyes.

He looked around as the seamstress focused and became taking note of other objects in the room. Mannequins were lined up in rows. Each had a suit or dress that was meticulously crafted but some were bare. Each were designed beautifully. The moment he touched the silk of one the suits his eyes caught sight of a silhouette.

In the corner of the room was a mannequin covered by linen.

Vil eyed the unaware girl and heard the 'click clack' of her hands weaving lace designs.

He lifted the blanket and he was more then just enraptured.

The suit was quite grand, vintage but new.

When Vil saw it he felt a pull in his chest. One you'd get if you saw something perfect for you while browsing and you are over taken by such a need and desire for it.

He wanted this suit. The ball was in ta few weeks and had a outfit planned but he needed this suit. Only this one would be worthy of him.

His eyes went back to the girl who finally looked up.

"VIL-SAMA!" She shouted her glasses falling off her face but still attached to the chain around her neck.

"I see you've been working very hard." Vil praised her with a pat on the head. Yuu wrinkled her nose blushing at the remark.

"What are you doing here?" She asked dumbfounded.

"I wanted to check on you. There is so much silk and satin here you'd think it was my closet." Vil mused.

"Oh, this? A few of the girls are paying me to make their gowns for the ball and a few boys too. I've been making them in pairs." Yuu said showing off her latest gown to be finished.

"I see, what about that one?" Vil pointed to the suit that was hidden away.

"Oh, not that one. It wasn't really made for anyone." Yuu shook her head as she pulled the cover back over it. "It's not worth looking at."

Vil felt a sting in his chest. How could he say that about something so stunning, something she made with her own hands.

"You seemed to work very hard on it. "Vil said keeping calm.

"Yeah, I guess. It's not very good though. I think I made it to match some kind of prince aesthetic but messed up. Besides what good is it if no one would wear it." Yuu sounded upset with herself "It's better sometimes to stick with what you know people like. People like handmade clothes. Something made for them, not for me."

Vil wanted to argue with her but he couldn't. She was right in some aspects. Only some.

"I'd like to commission you. Make me a suit just like this one here. Fix a few things. Change the materials on the undershirt and skirt to silk." He ordered her.

Yuu agreed reluctantly. She was sure Vil would think her design was cheap and while looking fancy at first, its commodity won't last.

Still, Vil didn't let her slack on his suit and came in regularly to check on her. Almost everyday he came to watch her and advise her on styles. He even modeled a few things she was working on. Sometimes when she was having bad days he'd just sit with her until it was over. When he needed her, she'd rush over to the shoot to fix whatever the problem was. Sometimes the stylist on set just didn't get it right. They were quite the duo. It was clear from the nickname Vil gave her. Ube.

There were only three other girls in the dorm and they noticed Vil hanging around. Soon enough they were giggling amongst each other as they helped the seamstress with her work.

One girl in particular who had become Rook's little spy as of late made it no hint that the ball's theme had them going in pairs. She also made it no hint that Vil would be behind if he didn't find a partner.

"So tragic it is! Almost every girl is already taken and so are the guys." Belladona said throwing her hands up as she spoke.

"Is this you asking me to go with you." Vil had seen this tactic before.

"Of course not, Rook is taking me. You're so busy I doubt you realized that a certain girl hasn't been asked." Belladona was Yuu's closest female friend. After the dye incident, they began forming a friendship. All the girls loved the hardworking seamstress. They just didn't want her to miss out.

Vil got the message and berated himself for not thinking of this. Almost immediately he went to visit Yuu who had finished the last of her commissions just in time with a few days to spare.

"Vil! You're here! Look I'm finally done!"She showed off the finished lineup of outfits with pride.

Vil didn't looked happy though. He knew the owners of each of the set. He felt something missing.

"You're missing one" he said simply.

Yuu looked around for a second before shrugging.

"What do you mean? Yours is right here." She asked.

"I meant yours. You aren't going to make your own dress for the ball?" Vil asked knowing how much pride she had in her work.

"I didn't think I'd have time to. I had a design but with all the orders..." She fell silent "It's fine Vil, it's just a party. I'm happy to see everyone else shine."

"What good is it to say that? How can you see everyone else shine when you aren't even there." Vil has been annoyed by this women for too long.

"Vil?" Yuu asked feeling the temperature shift

"I am so sick of your self depreciating martyr complex! It's either, my work isn't good enough or putting everyone else before yourself. Can't you just admit that you are a talented person, that your hard work means something? Why can't you just see yourself like I do? Someone who's talented, beautiful, and caring. Why is that so hard?" Vil poured his heart. He didn't knownhe was holding this back. Every thought he had at the back of his mind was rushing out. "I'm sorry. It's just...I wish you'd care about yourself more. I want you to be happy."

Yuu knew Vil cared but she was dumbstruck at how much he cared. They had never put it into words.

"I'm sorry. I guess I never...thought you felt that way." Yuu said "I doubt I'll be able to go now anyways. I only have three days left to make one."

"Then allow me to help." Vil didn't know much of dress making but he had seen Yuu do it enough to get an idea.

Thankfully Belladona, Dory, and Aza came in to help as well. The dress was finished in record time.

Yuu loved it. I was better then she imagined.

"Well then, all it needs now is a suit to match." Vil said rolling the mannequin that wore his suit to stand next to it. "It looks best like this."

Jamil

Jamil knew it was cold but he was only going to be out for a few minutes before returning to his dorm. It was not that long a walk. Beside he had a jacket on.

"Jamil! Wait!" Yuu called out to him, her basket of yarn bouncing on her arm. "It's cold out!"

"I'll be fine." He said waving goodbye.

"No, don't. Put this on first!" Yuu wrapped a big scarf around Jamil's neck.

The chunky knitted scraf was only the beginning as a hat and mittens were added on. All he needed now was an obnoxiously cute knitted sweater to top off the look. Granted it was a rather comfortable scarf.

Still Yuu was a bit of a mother hen. Something fostered by being the tailor of the Pomefiore dorm. Having the fix clothes all the time.

Jamil had been a recipient of that treatment after getting a few rips and tears. One he got a rip in his PE uniform while dismounting his broom she immediately mended it with her unique magic.

He had seen her use it a few times to punish her rowdy friends by fusing their hands to walls or statues to keep them from moving.

Jamil didn't know whether to be thankful or annoyed by the mother hen. But time told that he began to rely on her help. After an incident involving a carnivorous plant in the greenhouse he managed to ruin his uniform jacket and didn't have time to fix it. He left it in her care.

"Don't worry I'll give it back to you before classes tomorrow." She said brightly before scurrying off like she always does.

Jamil couldn't believe what he got back the next day. It was his jacket but it was beautifully embroidered with gold.

"You didn't need to go that far." He said trying not to look bashful.

"Oh, I guess i can just cut out the thread." She responded a bit disappointed.

"Absolutely not! You made this for me! It mine!" Jamil yelled pulling the jacket on and keeping away from her.

"Aww, Jamil~ I knew you'd love it!" She cheered as she tired to hug him.

This was something special just for him. He doesn't like his things taken away. When others saw him in wearing it they were envious. So much envy that everyone wanted one. Embroidered uniforms were the new trend after all.

Actually, Jamil felt something vaugly familiar about this. He went to the trophy hall to check his suspensions. Inside a glass case was a uniform from a former student that was kept.

"Divya Khatri"

She was first place in many art competitions. Their were even a few pictures hanging in classrooms that were her's.

What Jamil was looking for was the similar style in the embroidery but now all he could see was the last name.

"Khatri"

I guess we all have something we want to live up to.

Ruggie

There is no such thing as wasted material. Every leftover scrap of cloth is useful.

Ruggie would often drop off old clothes he wanted tailored or recycled. Yuu didn't ask where he got it but she was able to make such cute outfits for the hyena. It saves money on material and they can dye the clothes however they want.

It was around Christmas when he asked Yuu to help make clothes tosent back home to his family. A few babies were born recently in the neighborhood and he wanted to send something.

Yuu agreed immediately and began knitting something for the children.

She might have gone too far because she ended up with a lot more clothes then she realized. She remembered that Ruggie's community is pretty big so a few extras for the bigger kids would be useful.

By the time Ruggie came to check on her she was working on something bigger. A quilt, you can't welcome a cub into the world without a quilt. It's something they need all their lives.

Ruggie had to pull her out of her sewing haze with a shake.

"I don't think you'll finish in time." Riggie said nuzzling her cheek.

Yuu pouted, a bit disappointed but understood.

"Don't be sad, why don't you come visit and we can work on it there." Ruggie chimed trying to maker her feel better. "I'm sure the kids would like to thank you in person."

"Really? I'll ask Divus and we'll go as soon as break starts!" With this she immediately started rexting her guardian.

"I've always wondered. Why do you call your dad by his first name?" Ruggie asked tilting his head makingnhis ear wiggle a little

"Divus isn't my dad. He just raised me after my my mom..." She didn't say the rest but you know the rest.

"It's okay, I understand. We have more in common then I thought. We orphans gotta stick together!" Ruggie said going back to nuzzling his giggly friend.

It's a good thing Divus didn't see that.

During the break Yuu spent time finishing the quilt with Ruggie's grandmother. Divius supervised the visit of course before they left to go home.

Malleus

Malleus liked watching Yuu work. Specifically watching her use the loom. It was calming to listen to the calming clacking of the wood knocking against the frame.

Even more he liked the spinning wheel when she was making yarn. The monotonous sound was calming and familiar.

"OW!" Yuu yelped as she pulled her hand way from the silver needle. A small drop of ruby blood fell staining the white yarn.

Immediately Malleus was at her side holding her injured hand.

"Are you feeling alright?" He asked "Do you feel faint?"

"I'm fine, I just need a band-aid. Rook will probably know any minute now and tattel to Vil again." Yuu sighed, she would be banned from the work shop until it heals.

Whatever compelled his sweet little lizard brain to lick the wound was beyond her. But it worked whatever it was supposed to do because the pin prick healed.

"Unhand her Roi du Dragon!"Rook shouted as he appeared out of the great blue yonder AGAIN!

Yuu isn't even surprised. He was doing it on purpose.

After that happened Yuu wanted to apologize for her vice warden's behavior AGAIN. She made him a embroidered handkerchief.

Mellues was very proud of his handkerchief and thanked her for it buy gifting her a pouch of jewels from his hoard. How thoughtful.

Only for him to come back with puppydog eyes with the scorched handkerchief in hand.

"I'm sorry, your precious gift was ruined." He was clearly upset.

"Don't worry, let me take a look at it." Yuu comforted him as she gently took the cloth.

It had a few singed holes in the fabric. Yuu made a 'tsk' sound as she examined.

"It was an accident." He said as if he asking for forgiveness.

"It's no problem. I could just fuse the fabric and re embroidery it or...I can just not" She said thoughtfully.

"Not?" Malleus asked.

"Well I can't unburn it. It's burnt. I can remake it but it won't be the same handkerchief I gave you. I can however stich around the holes and fuse it, preventing it from unraveling. With a bit of tlc I can make it better without distorting the original design." Yuu explained taking the cloth over to her desk.

Malleus agreed readily as he watched Yuu save his handkerchief.

Halfway through Divus called asking what she wanted for dinner.

"You are very close to the professor. Are you two related?" Malleus asked after she hung up.

"He's my guardian. Raised me since I was 4 and I learned everything I know from him and mom." Yuu answered.

"Oh, he's your father. I had no idea." The dragon said a bit surprised.

"No, not my dad. He was there for me when mom died. They dropped me off in front of his house when no one else could claim me. He was barely an adult back then, like 20." Yuu said in a clipped tone "He had enough to deal with without a kid being dropped in his lap. He probably sees me more as a sister then a daughter."

"Did he say that?" Mallues asked seeing the hurt in her eyes.

Yuu had spent her life blaming herself for Divus not being free.

'Of course not. I just assumed-" Yuu started but stoped "Let's just finish this first."

Crewel

Yuu rushed home that evening since it was the weekend. After greeting the dogs she cornered Divus in the kitchen wearing that dalmatian apron she had made him when she was 9. It had red ruffles and she made one for herself with pink ruffles to match. She had out grown it a long time ago.

"I'm home, Divus." She said peeking into the pot only to receive a slap on the hand with a spoon.

"Not yet pup, I don't want you sneaking bites before I'm finished." Crewel said sternly as he ordered her to help instead of being a nuisance.

Yuu got started on the salad like always as she huffed like a tired puppy.

"Did you have a good day at school?" Crewel asked checking on the potroast.

"Yeah, Malleus needed help fixing his handkerchief." Yuu said cutting up the lettuce.

"I'm not sure about you hanging around him. He's polite but he's still dangerous even if he doesn't mean to be." Divus was more worried about Yuu dating then the potentially dangerous dragon.

"Dad! Please don't, I can hang around boys and keep myself safe." Yuu whined.

Divus didn't say anything at first.

"Dad?"He whispered under his breath a smile creasing his lips.

"I meant Divus!" Yuu blushed.

Crewel turned down the heat on the burner before turning to face Yuu.

"Yuu, don't force yourself. You call whatever make you feel comfortable. I've been wanting to talk about this with you. I've raised you since you were little. You're as good as a daughter as one that was my flesh and blood. You're my little girl." Crewel said reaching over hugging.

"Thanks...dad." Yuu held back tears as she hugged him back.

Over dinner the two talked about the normal event of the day.

"Hey, dad? Can we talk about mom?" Yuu asked, he knew Divus never liked talking about her. It hurt him alot.

"She was my best friend. She was older then me when we went to NRC. She was brilliant artist too....."

Crewel talked on and on about his memories of Divya. He never mentioned how she died, he focused on her life. Sharing the good time just like she would have wanted.

[rosietrace]

Errand Boy

Divider by @cafekitsune !

[ This short story is important to the main story of the central character ]

⊱───────────────⊰

Central Character ; 『 Sumeragi Yuuta, “The Golden Rule” 』

Mentioned (Central) ; 『 “Rei-Rei”, ‘The Secret Silly Symphony’ 』

【 This is both a short story important to the central character's story; All Ocs belong to their respective owners and will be credited at the end. 】

Synopsis: Crowley's favorite errand boy just can't catch a break, can he? Well, at least it isn't most of his errands Yuuta has to run.

Warning(s): Angst, comfort at the end(?), backstory spoilers, nobody knows it's his birthday :(, not proofread because grammarly sucks now and we die like men

⊱────────────────────⊰

Whatever they were talking about, Yuuta wasn't putting in any effort in listening. It was just how he operated most of the time.

Disassociation; a brief hum and nod as though he were paying attention; a snarky comment thrown in when he gets asked the age-old “are you even listening?”— all culminating into one of the most mundane ways for Yuuta to start his day.

Well, maybe that was a little cruel to say; Ellis and Circe seemed to be enjoying themselves just fine. Something about the former trying on a new shade of pink she, quote on quote, invented.

Yuuta sat on the couch he'd recently helped implement into Ellis' eyesore of a room, his eyes focused on the ceiling to refrain from rolling his eyes so far back they'd get stuck.

Are they done yet? Yuuta asked himself, completely disassociating from whatever conversation Ellis and Circe were currently having. He felt a little bad for being so inattentive; fashion was one of the few things he had in common with the duo.

Yet there he was, barely even paying a sliver of attention to whatever nonsense they were talking about. Something about ‘inventing new colors’, but he was too busy thinking to actually listen.

“Yuuta?”

He blinked, his gaze flitting between the pink ceiling — that he painted for Ellis — to Ellis herself. Seemed like while he was occupied with… anything other than what they were talking about.

“Hm?” He quirked up an eyebrow. “What?”

“We were just asking what you thought of this new design Ellis came up with,” Circe took hold of Ellis’ sketchbook and went over to Yuuta, handing it to him.

Yuuta got a good look at the sketch. It was good, he believed. Then again, Ellis always did have a knack for design.

“Well?” Ellis strode over to them, tilting her head to the side with a smile Yuuta couldn't dare break.

“What do you think?”

Why do you always ask me that? Yuuta thought. The praise Ellis received for her talent in fashion and all things related to it weren't unwarranted. She didn’t need to ask him, or Circe, or anyone about if a design looked good or not— there was no need to.

It was Circe's turn to raise an eyebrow. “Yuuta?” It was as though Yuuta couldn't hear them, hear anything.

Circe snapped his fingers twice, that hint of concern plastered on his face barely even comparable to Ellis’, who seemed to take that wave of concern and multiplied it by tenfold.

Yuuta couldn't stop thinking. About the day it was, about how nobody will know about the significance of it; about the errands he'll have to deal with today to keep Ramshackle afloat, about…

The buzzing noise of Yuuta's phone gave him that opening to leave as soon as possible. Better for him to complete his everyday tasks than to deal with the concern his friends had over him.

Yuuta stood, towering over Ellis but not quite doing the same for Circe. “I have to go,” he said in such a way that implied that whatever conversation they were going to have, it wasn't going to happen anytime soon, if at all.

“Huh?” Circe scrunched their nose. “What are you- No, where are you-”

“Errands,” Yuuta dismissed far too quickly than necessary, already making a break for the door before Ellis could intercept.

At least, he would have. Not until a thought popped into his head. So much so that he stood with his body halfway out of the door, frozen in place.

Circe's face contorted from silent concern, to surprise, to just straight up befuddlement. Ellis wasn't doing much better, tucking her arms behind her back with a similar expression on her face.

“What's he doing…-?” Circe whispered to Ellis, his nose wrinkling.

“I’m…” Ellis took a slight step forward, “... Not too sure.” Hence, from there, she walked up to Yuuta, tapping his shoulder with a featherlight touch to bring him back to his senses.

She could only hope that he wouldn't be like this for the rest of the day. The mere thought just made her even more worried than she already was.

“Erm… Yuuta?” Ellis called out to him, shaking him gently; body halfway out of her room, with his head hanging low. “Yuuta, are- Are you okay? Do you need a break, or something? I'm sure if we asked Crowley, he could let you take a bre-”

“Ribbon.”

Ellis blinked. “... Pardon?”

Ellis watched Yuuta turn his head to look her directly in the eye, his expression devoid of emotion.

“I'm gonna have to ask for some ribbons. Black, purple, and blue.”

⊱───────────────⊰

Crowley had been kind in the number of errands Yuuta had to run for today. Try as he may to hate the pathetic birdbrain, he could — at the very least — feel thankful.

Though…. If he continues to go on and on about his ‘kindness’, I might just punch my way through this goddamn maze.

Yuuta had already been in a questionable mood ever since the incident with Ellis and Circe earlier in the day, it just seemed like his mood worsened when he had to perform the tasks bestowed upon him by his “enigmatic” headmaster.

“Something on your mind?” Juvia asked, noting the grumbling Yuuta's been doing for the past few minutes while they assisted in painting the roses in Heartslabyul.

Juvia, bless her heart, knew that Yuuta wasn't going to be able to do everything himself, and out of the kindness of her blot-covered heart, had convinced Yuuta to allow her to help him out; well aware of his stubborn nature and his utmost refusal to receive help most of the time.

“I'm fine,” like everyone else, Juvia played victim to the dismissiveness of Sumeragi Yuuta. May the Great Seven bless her with more patience than anyone in NRC could muster.

Yuuta picked up another bucket of paint, heading for the next bush of unpainted roses with a look so nonchalant it almost disturbed Juvia to see him in such a state.

“You're clearly thinking of something.” Juvia climbed up a ladder to reach the upper parts of the rose bush she was painting; which just so happened to be next to Yuuta's. He wondered if that'd been intentional on her part.

But that thought faded very quickly. “Well, whatever I'm thinking of, it isn't any of your business.”

“I feel like as your roommate—”

“I'm basically your landlord.”

“No you're not! Crowley's the landlord!”

“Yeah, and he's a shitty one, too.”

He let out a tsk, proceeding with the tedious task of painting the roses red without staining his uniform.

Juvia’s frown deepened. “You're clearly thinking of something, y'know.”

Yuuta's eyes rolled. “And why’re you assuming that, of all things?”

“Because,”— Juvia pursed her lips in hesitation —“you have that look.”

He blinked. “What look-?”

“Y'know! The look!” To try and prove — as well as emphasize — her point, Juvia mimicked the expression currently worn on Yuuta's face.

Yuuta merely deadpanned, unimpressed by her feeble efforts at trying to get his thoughts out of him. She's too much like her.

He shook that thought away faster than the last one. No. She isn't her, and it isn't good to try and pretend that she is.

Bad, Yuuta. Bad.

Ignoring whatever Juvia had to say next, Yuuta finished his last batch of painted roses before he could leave to fulfill the rest of his errands of the day— not without taking two deliberately unpainted white roses from the bush, of course.

That was when Noriko ‘You must not bring dishonor to Lady Victoria's name!’ Dolion intercepted him on his way out.

“Where do you think you're going?” Noriko challenged, crossing their arms in disapproval. “Housewarden Rosehearts won't exactly be pleased if he saw you with those… it violates the conduct of the Queen of Hearts.”

Yuuta chortled, brushing past Noriko and retorting back, “As if you didn't plan on doing the same thing for your favorite Fae in Pomefiore.”

And so, Yuuta left Heartslabyul with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes; with Juvia falling from her ladder, caught into the arms of a blue-haired Spade, and Noriko red in the face in shame.

⊱───────────────⊰

“You didn't have to do this, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I insist,” despite all of the errands he had to deal with earlier in the day, Yuuta had graciously offered to help Miren with two of his latest concoctions.

Some pastries, mostly cupcakes; as well as a creation so spicy it could potentially challenge Miren’s spice tolerance if he wasn't careful.

What confused Miren was Yuuta's insistence on making cupcakes while he was making that spiced up monstrosity.

“Didn't take you as much of a cupcake person,” Miren narrowed his eyes. Skeptical, and almost intrigued. At least until Yuuta got some frosting on his cheek.

Yuuta clicked his tongue. “What made you think that?”

“You don't eat sweets that much, clearly.”

“Well you clearly haven't seen me during a Heartslabyul unbirthday party.”

“That's only because your schedule's so jam-packed, you barely have time to attend them anymore,” Miren groaned out a sigh.

“Seriously, I'm starting to think you're only running so many errands for a better paycheck.”

That's one of the reasons, an unsaid reply from Yuuta. At least for today.

“Come to think of it…” Miren hummed. “You've been…. Busier, today.”

Yuuta arched up an eyebrow. “Hah?”

“You know what I mean. It's like you're overexerting yourself on purpose,” it had, very clearly, occurred to Yuuta that Miren Lockhart wasn't going to back down from this topic; possibly more so than stubborn Ellis, sassy Circe, and worrisome Juvia.

Miren leaned against the kitchen counter. It was hard to take him seriously with that smudge of frosting on his cheek, Yuuta thought.

Wanting nothing more than to just leave, Yuuta did just that. Taking the two of the dozen cupcakes he'd made, one with purple icing and the other with light blue icing, he held them with one hand to focus his free hand on lifting Miren's chin.

Once he'd done so, Yuuta had teasingly licked the frosting off of Miren's cheek. Which… just happened to be the same time Carol came in, with Mayuu and Chizuko in tow.

Carol wasn't even the least bit surprised. “I'm not even going to ask,” she said with a disapproving huff of breath as Yuuta brushed past her, Mayuu, and Chizuko.

Chizuko squinted her eyes, thinking it relevant that the look on Yuuta's was most uncharacteristic for him, indeed, but not putting in the effort to say anything about it. Simply crossing her arms and shaking her head.

Mayuu went over to Miren, slightly disgusted at Yuuta's embarrassing display. “What's going on with him?”

Miren looked off at the kitchen's doorway, his hand covering his right cheek, his face reddened with blush.

Miren just sighed, letting go of his cheek and shrugging his shoulders. Whatever bothered Yuuta about today, it was clear he wouldn't tell any of them about it.

⊱───────────────⊰

Finally, it was night. Yuuta liked late night walks; he'd indulged in them every so often with Ellis, often encountering ‘Tsunotarou’ on their walk around campus.

But tonight was a special night. A night where he wasn't burdened by a constant demand to help those around him, where it was just him. Alone. No Tsunatarou, no Ellis, no anyone.

He sighed to himself, his eyes fixated on the glimmering lights in the dark midnight sky. Gods….

He cursed to himself, far below his breath. Why had it come to this? Why was his persistence in pretending today wasn't special getting him to such a sad, pathetic, point?

He didn't know the answer to that. Yuuta didn't know if he'd ever know the answer to that. And maybe he'll know one day, and maybe he won't.

Clearly, it wouldn't be tonight.

“Maybe in some alternate timeline where I'm not… me,” Yuuta murmured, taking out a ring of keys from his pocket.

He unlocked the doors to the botanical gardens, making sure to not make the doors creak too much; Crowley had been surprisingly easy to bribe to get the keys, the old coot was even ‘generous’ enough to give Yuuta full ownership of the keys.

He made sure not to wake any of the others when he snuck out. And any opportunities to run into Malleus were quickly evaded with, in his words, “some impressive maneuvering skills”.

But that wasn't as important as what he was to do next. Other than the keys to botanical garden, Yuuta had brought a small bag containing… stuff.

He'd gone to the most secluded part of the garden, one where the glass walls couldn't see him, and a spot not even Leona knew about. A spot personal only to Yuuta.

He sat down, setting everything up with a forlorn, almost sorrowful smile on his face.

Two cupcakes with purple and blue icing respectively, with candles of the opposite color stuck on the top; two unpainted white roses with purple, blue, and black ribbons crudely tying them together.

And finally, a black rabbit stuffed animal with a blue ribbon bowtie, and bracelet.

The stuffed animal, in particular, had the added consequence of getting Yuuta relentlessly teased by his friends when they found it in his room. He never elaborated on why he got it, or where he got it, because it simply wasn't their business.

They didn't need to know any more about him than they already did.

Besides, Yuuta sucked in a breath, his throat tightening. it was her favorite animal…

Lighting the two candles of the two cupcakes together, Yuuta held in a breath, singing a soft, melancholic version of the birthday song. He sang it in such a short, hiccupped manner, that he knew — he just knew — he was on the brink of tears.

And he didn't fight them. He never fought those tears. Not when they were for her. His only true friend, his truest, kindest, friend.

A friend — a girl he saw as a sister — he'll forever miss.

“Happy birthday,” he breathed out, tears barely wiped, “to… me.”

Yuuta looked up at the glass ceiling, crying his little, broken heart out. Things couldn't be changed. He couldn't change the past for what it was, and he knew he couldn't change the way he treated her.

He wondered where she was, often. He cried himself to sleep, sometimes, at the idea she could be hurt. She didn't deserve that, she never deserved that.

Yuuta sniffled, closing his eyes after making his birthday wish. A wish he'd been making ever since her departure from his life, all those years ago.

I want to see you again, Rei-Rei. And just like all the times I've said it before, I'm sorry.

⊱────────────────────⊰

【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of OC appearances/mentions

Ellis Clawthorne — @starry-night-rose 💖

Circe Erfinderin — @geminiiviolets 👾

Juvia Yuyi Espejo — @jasdiary 🧡

Noriko Dolion — @terrovaniadorm / @hallowed-delights ‼️

Victoria Shard — Me! 😈

Miren Lockhart — @authoruio 💙

Carol Ann — @fumikomiyasaki 💚

Chizuko Minato — @sakuramidnight15 ⛓️

Mayuu — @nem0-nee ⏰

“Rei-Rei” (UNRELEASED) — @jasdiary

|| @twsted-princess || @mystery-skulls-ghost || @abyss-wonderer || @absolutelyobsessedkiya / @twistedsongstressofstarz || @spadecentral || @oseathepebble || @valse-a-mille-temps || @twst-stupid-ocs || @mintychocolate04 ||

[cloudofbutterflies92]

I've waited a hundred years, but I'd wait a million more for you

Pairing :John "Soap" Mactavish x Chloe Valentine (OC belongs to @chloekistune )

Words count: 942

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tag:@chloekistune @alypink @onehornedbeast @corvosattano @cassietrn @thewanderer-000

Notes:Before letting you read the mini shot , I first wanted to thank @chloekistune for being such a special friend who allowed me to write this little story in which Johnny and Chloe meet for the first time💕. I hope you like how I imagined their first meeting, having said that I'll leave you to read.

London, April 23 10:00 am

"I'll never get this damn tattoo design to him" Chloe sighed, maniacally tapping the tip of her pencil on her own cheek.

Yet another unsuccessful attempt to experiment with a new style for one of her clients, a well-known tattoo artist in town who urgently needed her help. Apparently the person in question had asked for a design that did not match her style at all.

Matt had pleaded with her "he is a very important person, I can give you even half of the payment that he will give me."

And she had another 24 hours to complete the task, she would never make it. It was impossible for her.

If Eden had heard her, she would have gotten a hefty earful.

But Eden was not there so, she was busy with her work so she would have called Matt and told him that she was not in the right mood(actually according to her reasoning she was not suited) and to hell with the money. She couldn't lose her mind.

Absolutely not, she could not go like this and have a paper in front of her without even a pencil line.

"It will be simple" she mumbled in her head full of tangled thoughts, like the webs of some spider, one of her greatest fears.

*Drin*

The ringing of the bell at the entrance of that bar foreshadowed the arrival of two boys: both fit, one wearing the typical cap that could be seen on the head of some passionate soccer fans, with a beaming, perfect smile. The typical golden retriever boy.

The other...well the other somehow had impressed her. She of all people who had never been love at first sight found herself looking into those eyes of that intense blue, imagining running her fingers gently along his mohawk

"No Chloe what are you going to think" she mumbled, later calling herself stupid several times. How could a stranger have struck her like that?

A handsome stranger actually.

Focusing on the drawing was definitely the best solution, she would try for the last time. One time only.

"I swear if he dares to tell me what to do again I'll punch that other eye too."

"Johnny you should forget about it, Price told you that too. You know what Colonel Harrison is like."

"Johnny...that's his name" Chloe curiously tilted her head.

The wrongest move in the world.

He was looking in her direction, it was over. How embarrassing.And he was also getting closer.

"Are you by any chance an artist?" Johnny's eyes lit up, almost like a child with his favorite toy. The other man was incredulous, moments before he was talking about wanting to beat up their colonel while now he had softened.

Chloe moved her head shyly "yes, in theory."

In theory? She wanted to give herself a boot to the head, she was making a fool of herself for a man.

"Can I see your album if you don't mind? I've had a bad day and I could use something to distract me."

She could have answered no, told him she and used the defensive. Instead, she found herself helplessly showing "Johnny" her sketchbook, each page with a drawing, a commission, or simply an emotion.

"They are very beautiful you know?"

"Pff, there are much better artists" the purple-haired girl glossed over with a dismissive hand motion. Her being her first enemy had made compliments for her like allergies.

"What if I told you I would like maybe a portrait?" He approached, with that easygoing, bastard smile. The scarlet color of Chloe's cheeks reached its peak.

"My name is Johnny anyway Chloe" he anticipated her answer as to how he knew her name, pointing to that "Chloe Valentine" on the drawing paper.

From a distance his friend was looking at him laughing but his friend was right, more because if it had been anyone else surely Chloe would have found that trashy, cringe-worthy boarding tactic.

"Okay if you really want to" having confirmation Johnny wrote his number on a napkin.

"This is my number bonnie, maybe I can show you my doodles too. In the end it's not all guns and bullets" looking at her he flashed perhaps the smile that made Chloe's heart beat as loudly as a battery. She did not initially understand the meaning of the last sentence until she saw the dog tag: a military man.

"I would be very glad Johnny."

It was really sad to see him get up, but since she had his number she would definitely call him. She wanted to know everything about him, after so long she felt she strangely wanted to open her heart again.

"And I suggest you bring lots of papers, this guy uses up a lot of them" Johnny's friend also approached the two, patting him on the back, making him snort. He seemed very easygoing and funny.

"Stop it Gaz, you should get on track too."

Had he really said on track?

"But I'm already there, I'll wait for you outside. Nice to meet you Chloe" Gaz greeted the young woman artist who responded by lightly waving her hand. Alone again.

"Don't listen to him, Gaz is very stupid" the brown haired man scratched his head embarrassed, he was really cute.

"Oh well that wasn't annoying. He is very nice" she smiled with her eyes closed.

"So..."

"...I'll see you, I'll send you my number" she finished the sentence for him who nodded, before walking away. He left a final smile, exiting the bar. Chloe looked at that number written on the napkin chewing her lips and nervously moving her leg: a first date she had not planned. Inspiration had returned to her, though. That meeting had definitely changed her day for the better.

[hannuhbee]

𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗲

eddie gives you drawing ideas when you're experiencing art block. [wc; 2.3k]

pairing; eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings; swearing and fluff, i think that's literally it (written on my phone so mistakes too)

a/n; is this completely self-indulgent... maybe... i will edit this when i wake up i swear

"i'm at a loss, eds," you say, throwing yourself onto his bed, arms and legs splayed out.

"why's that?" he was fiddling with the strings on his guitar, not looking up at you.

you sigh. "my sketchbook is like, empty and i have to turn it in by friday."

"that's in two days," he states.

"wow really? i didn't know that."

"teasing." he laughs, putting his guitar down, finally looking at you. "all outta ideas?" you nod. "draw me."

when you sit up, your face is so close to his, noses almost touching. "i can't draw you, i'll mess it up."

"then it'll be abstract. c'mon, i'll sit like a statue, i promise!”

you laugh so hard you throw your head back. the thought of eddie munson sitting still, like a statue no less, was wild. he couldn't stop fidgeting as if his life depended on it.

looking over at him, you noticed that he would make a good subject. his hands were really nice after all, the rings the cherry on top. you loved his eyes too, and his hair, and his nose. everything about him.

"okay," you say, smiling. he leans in so your nose touches his, and smiles. "i can draw you."

"fuck yeah, babe! can you do it with a colored pencil? you have those right?"

you nod. "i only have red and blue though."

"red, red's my favorite color."

you nod again, confirming the color. eddie had taken you home, to his home, after school like always, so you had all of your art supplies with you. it wasn't much, a few hb pencils, pens, and two colored pencils.

inside, eddie was freaking out. he loved your art, and would shower you with compliments and kisses when you showed him a new piece, throwing in a few can you draw hellfire posters? too.

he'd never thought to ask for a portrait before. maybe it was because some part of him, something very deep down inside him, thought it would be scary to see someone else's interpretation of him. he was excited nevertheless.

you pulled out your sketchbook with almost twenty-five percent of it filled and sighed, letting your fingers roam around the cover - feeling the divots of when you pushed your pencil too hard in to make a mark, meaningless doodles, and words.

"you can go back to doing whatever, i can go from there."

eddie kissed your temple and leaned back to get his guitar. he started messing with the strings again as if they weren't perfect the first time around.

you looked around eddies room, which had somewhat become your room. wayne suggested you move in, to help keep it clean. eddie even made a stack of your clothes on his floor.

"what's the theme of this one? they all got themes, right?" he asked, half distracted.

"uh, not sure. think it's something like family or your idea of home."

eddie smiled to himself. "yeah? you're okay with putting me with that theme?"

you started sketching out his room, the perspective a little wonky but it would turn out fine. "'course eds, not to be all cheesy but you're kinda my idea of home." you are my home, you want to say.

"that's awfully sweet of you." he teases again, but neither of you can deny the blush creeping onto his face. it starts at the tip of his ears. "just so happens that you're my idea of home too. i mean, you put your shoes next to mine!" he repeats what you said, but leaves out the kinda.

you laugh hard again, but don't reply. you relish at this moment, of eddie doing whatever he does, back towards you, but still touching you, and you doing what you love, of who you love.

your focus is turned back onto the page as you start to slowly add in blocks, mapping out the clothes on his floor, the posters, and little trinkets. crosshatching is used to add depth and shadows and make it all look a little better, more real.

when it's finished, you write home at the top right and sign your name under. "look, eds."

"you're a modern da vinci, babe." he pretends to not see the title at the top but smiles like an idiot to himself when he turns away.

you move on to the next page. anatomy. it was never something that you were particularly good at, everything looking a little off.

eddie's backside turns out to be a great reference. you start out with the outline of his back and his hair, then you slowly add details in, carving them in. you don't offer to show him this one.

next, you draw the guitar, where it hangs in front of the mirror. eddie moved on to messing with his amp. you draw the pick on his nightstand, and the box of cigarettes, though you don't draw the label. it's just a box on paper, but you know it's more.

"s'it working?" he asks. you've gotten caught up in your drawing that you didn't realize he sat right next to you again.

you hum, nodding. "i'm tired already."

it was pretty late, and you were pretty tired. "m'tired too. you sure this burst of inspiration won't disappear by tomorrow?"

"nope, because you'll still be here, i hope."

he smiles wide again. idiot, you think. my idiot. "always gonna be here."

with that, eddie helps you get situated to sleep, and you're out.

when the birds outside wake you up, you're excited to draw, your hands itching. you're excited because you get to draw eddie. the entire day was going to be focused on drawing him, his features and his hands and his tattoos, everything that makes him eddie.

because of how the trailer is set, the sun shines bright through his window, perfectly highlighting eddie. the sheets have slid down to his lower back, so you can see the curves of his back and the few light freckles on his shoulders.

it’s perfect, he’s perfect. you have to draw him.

moving as slowly as you can, you reach down to grab your sketchbook off the floor, along with a colored pencil. you mark down the general shape of him, and then work on his face - half in the pillow with furrowed eyebrows and pouted lips. you wonder what he was dreaming about.

you make sure to get the way his hair falls into his eyes and over his shoulder, a few distinct curls on his cheek.

“freak.” he mutters, opening his eyes a smidge.

“you asked for this.”

he huffs, slowly getting up with a groan. “guess i did. can i see?”

you shake your head and move the sketchbook away. “not yet, when i get it back. monday.” you say, promising.

“monday.” he agrees. “d’you want eggs? think that’s all we got.”

you nod. “eggs sound perfect, eds.” smiling, you think back on all of the other times eddie made eggs and how he dumped salt on them.

he stands up to find a shirt and pants, but not before he presses a kiss to your temple and each cheek.

you follow him into the kitchen, still clutching the sketchbook. wayne’s sitting in his chair, sipping a coffee. it was rare to see him so early.

“hi wayne.” you say, to which he turns back and waves.

“you know she’s an artist right?” eddie says, cracking four eggs into a hot pan. they sizzle.

wayne laughs. “‘course i do, you show me everything she’s ever given you.”

your face heats up at the new knowledge. “you do?”

eddie looks sheepish, like you weren’t supposed to know. he shrugs, a red blush painting his face. “i mean, yeah, sometimes.”

“all the time!” wayne corrects with a loud laugh.

eddie scowls playfully and returns to his cooking. attempt at cooking.

while eddie begins to plate the eggs, wayne departs, reminding you to show him more art. wayne was your second biggest fan, after eddie of course.

eddie, thankfully, learned how much salt is too much, so the eggs were edible. “wish we had bacon or something.” he says with his mouth full of food. you’d scold him for that, but you were too enamored with the sight before you.

his hair was a mess, his eyes were still droopy and half-lidded, and he was smiling at you once he swallowed his food. his smile. you wanted it burned into your memory forever.

“this is good.” you manage.

“you’re staring.” he states, smiling even wider.

you scoff, trying to play it off. “i do not stare!”

eddie’s finished with his eggs, so he gets up to clean his plate. he kissed your head as he passes you. “i stare at you too. in a completely normal way, though.”

“that was a normal way!” you join him in cleaning your plate.

the rest of the morning continues like it always does, brushing your teeth together, and getting dressed together, and leaving together.

the rest of the day, however, doesn’t go like you hope it does. you don’t see eddie for much of it, and all you want to do is draw him. it’s a funny feeling, not wanting to do anything but draw and draw and draw. maybe it was something eddie-specific.

before you knew it, you were walking into the drama room to watch eddie’s dungeons and dragons campaign.

the boys all lit up at the sight of you, waving and greeting you, then getting back into setting up.

“babe! how’d the drawing thing go today?” he asked, pulling you aside.

you shrugged. “didn’t do much, didn’t see you much.” he frowns. “i can do more tonight though!”

“you’ll show me?”

you smile, shrugging. “can’t make any promises.”

“god, you’re awful.”

eddie laughs loudly before running to begin the campaign. you have a seat near the table, where you can see the party to either side and eddie in the middle. the glow of the florescent light make it look like he��s got a halo around his head.

as the group progresses in the campaign and gets more rowdy, you decide to draw it. a little sketch, nothing too detailed. you’ve adopted the younger kids, so they fit in with the theme. found family, you think.

eddie’s in the middle with his arms out, and everyone else is at the sides, smiling wide with unique expressions on their faces.

you’ve still got a good chunk of sketchbook left, so you draw the party’s characters. it’s a little unclear what the exact vision was for all of them, but you do the best you can. you end up with numerous half-rendered pieces of their dungeons and dragons characters with the respective player labeled at the top.

by the time you’re done, they’ve finished the session and are cleaning up.

“was that a good one?” you ask when eddie’s done.

he puts a hand on your waist and leads you out to his van. he nods. “one of the best. think you’re my lucky charm, babe.”

“that’s cheesy.”

he pauses, thinking. “you’re right, but wasn’t that sweet? i just came up with that!”

you laugh and push his shoulder. “i could tell.”

“you’re evil.” he smiles, no real harm behind his words. “what’d you draw?“

eddie starts his van and begins to drive out of the school lot. “just you and the party, their characters, stuff like that.”

“y’know, they’d love to see that stuff.”

you nod. “i’ll tear out the pages when it’s all graded. they can keep it if they deem it worthy of their vision.”

eddie snorts. “they love you, of course they’d love it!”

you want to disagree, but eddie turns up his music so you can’t. you glare at him, but it eventually fades into an endearing smile.

once you’re at his trailer again, you’re quick to pick up where you left off - sketching his hands doing whatever he’s doing, in this case, smoking.

you draw his hand with a cigarette between his first and second finger, lightly sketching a line to make a string of smoke. you make sure to get his rings. you continue onto his arm, where he’s rolled up the sleeve. his tattoos are visible, so you draw them too. accuracy is not a concern, as you already know you’ve got them down perfectly. you know him like the back of your hand.

“think you’ll finish by tomorrow?”

you nod, drawing his side profile. “sure i will, i’ve got enough you to last a lifetime.”

“god.” he sighs, smiling to himself.

the page is full, so you turn to the next and focus on his eyes. what they look like when he smiles, the wrinkles in the corners, eyelashes kissing. what they look like when he’s happy and full of fondness. what they look like closed.

“you’re gonna get frostbite.” he says, pulling you you up and into the trailer.

“it’s seventy degrees.”

“it happens, heat frostbite.”

you give him a look, raising your eyebrows. “so… heatstroke?”

“maybe.”

the rest of the night is filled with laughter and funny looks as you try to get eddie’s not-so-patient expression down on the page. you’d have to see the real thing though, a pencil can only do so much.

the remaining pages of your sketchbook are filled with his hands. floating hands cut off at the wrist, just doing random things - holding a pick, practicing guitar, attempting homework, hold your hand. that was the hardest, trying to hold his and draw with the other.

“fucking finally.” you swear, wiping your forehead. “finally finished.”

“proud of you. all of little ole me too.” he smiles smugly, poking your side. “you’re gonna get the best grade on that goddamn sketchbook.”

you laugh, looking at him. admiring him. “i think i did well. you’re my muse now.”

eddie laughs loudly, trying to hide the growing blush on his face. to be someone’s muse was an honor, to be your muse.

you were eddie’s muse, numerous corroded coffin songs being written about you or with you in mind. two different artists, but you were all the same.

[anxious-witch]

The color between my lines

Summary: The story of the Bojan and Kris is pretty simple. They liked each other, they dated, they broke up. Almost broke up a band over it, too. Really the fact that they are such good friends now is a miracle in itself.

Kris has kept a careful balance ever since. Letting his feelings get the best of him already got him hurt once. He will not do it again. Except, when Jere enters the equation and Bojan seems to be interested in the Finn, can Kris truly let him go? Or will he risk their friendship in an attempt to try again?

Pairings: Bojan Cvjetićanin/Kris Guštin

Warnings: mentions of bullying, an unnamed character getting his arm broken, homophobia, mentions of past bullying Kris experienced

Notes:

On AO3

Okay, so first and foremost, a big thank you to @occhi-verdi-come-il-mare for beta reading this and helping me iron some details, and to @reserved-fruit for letting me expand on one of the prompts she got, I am really thankful to you both <3

Second of all, I know this chapter is a bit short, I was getting into bokris dynamics for the first time and I wanted to give a bit of the backstory first. I hope I did them justice. This fic will probably have 2-3 chapters if I don't get carried away. So yeah, enjoy

Kris’ life, for the most part, was a carefully constructed set of rules. Like a sketchbook full of drawings. You were meant to color it, but there were specific colors you should use and you needed to color in between the lines.

Simple.

Or, it was, before Bojan slowly but surely pushed his way in his life. 

Coloring his life over any and all lines, like he couldn't see them at all and breathing to life the colors Kris couldn't have even imagined.

It was a slow but inevitable dance they played, exchanging jabs towards each other. A push and pull, forever circling each other.

“That song doesn't have distortions.” Turned into “I still think you are annoying, but sure, we can hang out after school.” Then, “Please don't faint when you meet my dad.” 

“I don't think I ever would have picked up a guitar if it wasn't for you.”

Was it truly a surprise for them to end up together?

“I don't think I ever felt this way about anyone,” Bojan said to him, his eyes wide and honest. 

They were at the park, in the middle of the night, sitting on a blanket Kris sneakily took from the far end of the closet. He didn't like sneaking out at night, but only this late did they dare to be this close outside.

Besides, it was summer. It was warm and they had no obligations outside of band practices. Kris thought that for once, he could relax a bit and let himself be a bit more laid back.

Bojan passed his hand through Kris’ short hair and Kris pretended it didn't make him shiver. 

“Because you had so many experiences with dating in the first seventeen years of your life?”

Bojan lightly slapped his arm.

“I had a girlfriend before!”

Kris snorted.

“Right. The one you dated for…what? Two weeks?”

“Three!”

“My mistake.”

Bojan pushed him on his back as Kris laughed and kissed him. It was a sure way to quickly end most of their arguments. 

And even those were far and few in those first few months of their relationship.  

Months were passing quickly, though and as summer melted into autumn and then the beginning of winter, things started to change.

It was on a particularly cold night, after a gig they did that they found themselves in Kris’ house. His parents knew about it by this point, and having expressed their approval, allowed Bojan to come over when he liked.

This was how they ended up lying in Kris’ bed, the post gig adrenaline slowly dying down. Bojan was always hit with the low especially hard afterwards, so Kris made sure he didn't leave him alone after.

“Don't you sometimes wish we could just…go away?” Bojan whispered in the dark.

Kris circled his arms around his waist, pulling him closer to his chest.

“Go where?”

“Anywhere. Anywhere but here.”

Kris felt his heart squeeze painfully at the bitterness in Bojan's voice. He gently turned him so he'd face him.

“What are you saying? Why do you want to leave? I never heard you talk like this before.”

Bojan's eyes were piercing, even in the darkness of Kris’ bedroom.

“I just…don't you wish we could just hold hands in public? Kiss? Just, be ourselves?”

Kris carefully considered his words, his hand automatically intertwining with Bojan's.

“I mean, yes. But we have the time. It's not now or never. We are barely eighteen.”

Bojan huffed, turning his head away. Kris gently turned it back to him.

“Where is all this coming from?”

Bojan shrugged, but Kris could feel there was something deeper than that. So he waited.

“There is a guy from the same year as me, but in a different class. Someone broke his arm during recess today.”

Kris felt the chill sink into his bones despite being in a warm bedroom.

“Oh my God. What happened? Did they do it…on purpose?”

There was slight hesitation before Bojan nodded. Then, all at once, it clicked for Kris.”

“They did it because he is gay.”

It wasn’t a question, but Bojan nodded again. Oh Bojan, Kris thought. 

“Are you…” Kris trailed off, unsure what the right word was. Scared? Angry?

 “...okay?”

Bojan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m peachy, but I am not the one with a broken arm, am I?”

“Bojči…”

“Don’t.”

They fell silent, but the tension stayed, hanging heavily in the air. Too heavy for Kris’ childhood bedroom, too heavy than anything that hung between them before.

Kris thought of middle school where people called him a girl and a fag until he cut him hair. How he could have easily been the one to get his arm broken in slightly different circumstances. Yet, what could he say to all that? They couldn’t exactly just pack up and move away on a whim, could they?

Besides, they wouldn’t be in high school forever. For Bojan it was only a few months left, while for Kris, it was one more year. College would be different, they just had to bid their time until then. 

There were so many things Kris could say, but Bojan looked so small and exhausted, Kris didn't want to push. When he was angry or felt something was unfair, he could be quite stubborn. Pressing the issue could only result in more argument. 

“Alright, maybe we should just go to sleep and talk about this some other time, yeah?”

Bojan looked up at him for a moment, his dark eyes piercing. Kris let him, unsure what he was looking for, exactly. Then, after a moment Bojan simply nodded and wrapped around Kris tighter, as if he was trying to melt into him. Kris chuckled and pressed a kiss into his hair.

“Goodnight Bojči.”

“Goodnight Krisko.”

It didn't get better.

Ever since that night, Bojan kept pushing the issue. Saying how, if they stay, they'll cave under the pressure, get stuffed into a mold and then it'll be too late. 

Kris didn't understand. They were still themselves and while certainly, the situation wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t dire either. They were only eighteen. Where would they go? And how?

Bojan didn't seem to have a definitive answer to that, so they stopped arguing. But Kris could tell it didn't leave his mind. Then, things got worse.

Bojan began pulling away. There was no other way of describing it. Not just pulling away from Kris, but from the band, too. Kris wasn't sure what shifted, but ever since Bojan got a new music teacher, he seemed to have completely shifted his worldview.

He kept missing practice and saying he just didn't have a clear idea on the new song they started working on.

Their dates became fewer too, although it did seem Bojan put more effort into maintaining their relationship than he did in maintaining the band.

Kris did wonder why he looked so tired all the time, though. What was he doing?

He came knocking at his front door one day after class and Bojan's mom greeted him. He saw a surprise flash over her face.

“Good afternoon, Mrs Cvjetićanin.”

“Kris, you know you can call me Snežana. But also Bojan isn't home yet.”

Kris made a split second decision to lie and find out what had been happening with Bojan lately. So he smiled, hoping he came off as sheepish and earnest at the same time.

“I actually wanted to come a bit earlier and surprise him, since he had been so busy lately…”

Snežana's face turned understanding.

“Yeah, of course. Come in. You can wait in his room if you'd like. Do you want anything to drink?”

After a bit of small talk with Snežana, Kris found himself in Bojan's room. It was somehow even more of a mess than usual.

What drew Kris in was a stack of papers neatly put on the table. Or well, as neatly as one could expect from Bojan.

When he picked one up, he found they were song lyrics. Not the song lyrics of the new song Kris had been begging Bojan to work on, though. No.

This was-this wasn't even the kind of song that suited the band. And the notes on it confirmed Kris’ suspicion. 

It was a solo song.

Kris slowly sat on the bed, the paper still in his hands. He stared blankly, his brain trying to catch up to what he was seeing.

There was only white static in his head, his heart drumming in his ears. Then, the doors opened and Bojan was standing in the doorway.

Kris felt as if time slowed down. He looked up at him. Saw as Bojan's expression flickered between surprised, to fond. Then, his eyes slowly focused on the paper Kris was holding. His face paled.

“Kris, I-”

“Are you leaving the band?”

Bojan closed his mouth, then opened it, then closed it again. The pressure in Kris’ head grew, static turning into white-hot rage.

“Are you leaving the fucking band?!”

Bojan flinched back, his foot hitting the door behind him. Kris breathed in through his teeth. 

“I don't know yet. But-probably.”

Kris closed his eyes. Tried to breathe through his anger and something awfully close to heartbreak.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Kris’ hand trembled as he dragged them through his own hair, nails scratching over the scalp, attempting to ground himself with the pain.

“Humor me.”

“Statistically, solo singers are more likely to make it in the industry.”

He bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. His breaths came out as labored. He couldn't bring himself to look at Bojan at all.

“So that's what this is about? You want so badly to get away from here, you are willing to leave all of us behind?”

“No!”

Kris finally opened his eyes to see Bojan walking towards him and kneeling down to take Kris’ hands in his own.

“You-you could come with me. If it all works out as it should.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat. Bojan's voice sounded so small, as if pleading him to understand. Kris did understand. But understanding wasn't enough.

“How would that even work? We both agreed we'd have plan B. How do you think this will work with college? Besides, if we are not doing this as a band, how would I even go with you?”

Bojan didn't say anything, which was an answer in itself.

“Is this what your new music teacher told you? Is he pushing you to-”

“He is not pushing me to do anything! I want to do this!”

The black line, crudely drawn across all the other line and colors, cutting it in half.

“Well then,” Kris said, his voice coming out strangely calm, almost frosty, “I suppose there is nothing more to say.”

He saw the exact moment his words hit Bojan, his eyes widening and his face paling even further.

“Wait. Are you breaking up with me?”

Kris felt as if he was in some sort of trance, all his fiery rage turning to ice. He pulled his hands from Bojan's grasp.

“I guess I am.”

He stood up and Bojan did as well, grabbing on to his arms. Kris tried to shake him off, but Bojan held firm.

“No, wait-please listen to me!”

“What is there to listen to? You want to leave? Fine! There is nothing holding you back now!”

Kris began walking towards the door, but then Bojan grabbed him again and pinned him to the door. Kris exhaled shakily and then he was being kissed.

Bojan had never kissed him like this before. So desperate and full of despair. Kris kissed him back and cupped Bojan's face, finding it wet with tears.

By the time he pulled away, they were both breathless. 

“Stay,” Bojan whispered, his hot breath ghosting over his lips.

“Only if you do.”

Bojan's face twisted up in pain. 

“I can't, Kris I have to try. If I don't try, I'll always wonder what would have happened if I tried. I'm sorry.”

Kris’ ice shield broke and tears slid down his cheeks too.

“I'm sorry, too,” he said and pushed him away.

This time, Bojan didn't try to stop him. Kris walked past the kitchen and living room, hearing Snežana humming to the radio, blissfully unaware.

For the first time, Kris didn't say goodbye to her when he left.

He got out on the street and simply walked. Winter sunset painted the sky in beautiful orange and yellow colors, but Kris felt completely devoid of color. 

Like a coloring book with pages torn out and discarded, all the colors uneven and ugly. For the first time he saw them all, but they held no beauty and no warmth.

He swore he would never, ever let Bojan break his heart again. He would never even talk about him ever again.

He was done.

[hobiebrownismygod]

Miles-42 x Gwen-42; First Look

Mini-fanfic

Synopsis: Miles G. meets Gwen-42 for the first time, Fluff

____________________________________________________________

"Miles, we gotta go!"

Rio's voice could be heard booming from the downstairs kitchen area, slightly raised as she called him for the third time that morning. Miles cringed at his mother's tone and threw his sketchbook into his bag before opening his bedroom door and quickly climbing down the stairs. "I'm coming, Mami."

It was his first day of sophomore year, and his introduction to a completely new environment. Brooklyn Visions Academy, a prestigious private school which Miles had somehow gained admissions to only halfway through the summer. He hadn't wanted to go to this "rich-kid" school, as he called it, but his Dad had wanted him to go, and well...he didn't want to let him down.

Miles gave his mom a sheepish grin before shoveling his mouth full of cereal and grabbing his computer, placing it in his already stuffed backpack before walking out the door. "Espera, dame un beso antes de que te vayas, mijo!" (Wait, give me a kiss before you leave, mijo) Miles rolled his eyes and groaned as his mom pulled him in to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Be good."

"Yes, Mami."

Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in front of the entrance to Brooklyn Visions Academy, watching as other students walked in, laughing, talking, messing around. He couldn't help but stare at them with a solemn expression on his face. He already missed his friends. He shook the feeling off and walked straight through the entrance, staring straight ahead and trying not to make eye contact with anyone, in fear of being noticed.

Suddenly, he felt someone bump into him from the back. He stumbled forward slightly before turning around, ready to chew out whoever did that, an annoyed look on his face.

"Oh, I'm so sorry about that!"

Long blonde hair pulled back into a braid, bright blue eyes the color of the sky, light pink lips pursed into a half-frown. Miles caught himself staring. "I'm Mil-" his voice cracked. Shit. He cleared his throat quickly, leaning down to pick up the book she'd dropped. "I'm Miles."

She smiled at him, taking the book from him and extending a friendly hand out to him.

"Gwen. Gwen Stacy."

Part 2:

Miles-42 x Gwen-42: Silent Sketches

Note: Let me know if you guys liked it or if I should write more! I'm thinking of making a series about this, and there'll probably be multiple parts <3

[aalissy]

Letters

Day 14 is now done :). And it's another lil fluffy Marichat one-shot bc I love themmm <3. Lemme know what y'all think!

AO3

Marinette sat at her desk, a stack of colorful envelopes scattered in front of her. Each one bore Chat's distinctive handwriting and a playful drawing of him winking up at her. It had become a tradition between them—writing letters to each other as a way to express thoughts that they couldn't say out loud.

It had all started one rainy afternoon when Marinette found a small note tucked under her school books. It was from Chat, a simple "Hope this brightens your day, purrincess" scrawled across the paper. Inside, a tiny origami black cat grinned up at her.

He must have written it when he had come over the other night, though she couldn’t imagine when he had managed to find the time to do so. After all, they had spent most of that night just giggling and talking. Still, that didn’t stop Marinette from clutching the letter to her chest happily. 

From that day on, they began exchanging notes regularly. At first, it was light-hearted banter and small encouragement after extremely time-consuming and exhausting exams. Chat would leave letters hidden in the most unexpected places—under her sketchbook, inside her locker (which she still couldn’t figure out how he got into), and one had even been attached to a croissant from the bakery.

Marinette, in turn, began to respond with her own letters, filled with gratitude and playful retorts. She would leave them for Chat to find, sometimes folded into intricate shapes like a tiara or macaroon.

It had become a game to them, one she began to eagerly look forward to every night. She loved teasing him about the location of the latest letter. Especially if she had hidden it away well enough that he was unable to find it right away. It had very quickly become the best part of her day.

And so, as Marinette gazed at the stack of envelopes she had from Chat because of course, she kept every single one of them, she couldn't help but smile. Their letters were more than words on paper—they were a testament to the bond they shared. The bond that was growing so strong that she was soon finding that she was unable to stop herself from harboring just a small crush on him. It made so much sense, after all. It seemed almost impossible for her to not after reading all of the sweet words he had written to her.

As the weeks passed, Marinette found herself eagerly anticipating each new letter from Chat Noir. His words were a ray of sunshine in her sometimes chaotic life. She cherished the moments of connection they shared through their secret correspondence, each letter deepening her admiration for the mysterious hero.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day of dealing with Chloé's antics and trying to keep up with her latest design projects, Marinette found a letter from Chat tucked underneath her pillow. He must have placed it there a while ago when they had one of their sleepovers. She smiled as she read his words, feeling a warmth spread through her heart.

Hello Purrincess,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to remind you that you're amazing, even on the toughest days. Your creativity and kindness shine brighter than any star in the sky. Keep being your incredible self.

Yours always,

Chat Noir

Marinette felt her cheeks flush as she read his praise. It was moments like these that made her feel truly special like Chat saw something in her that others might overlook. She wrote a quick reply, expressing her gratitude and sharing a bit about her day.

Their letters continued to grow in number as they continued their little tradition. Chat's words lifted her spirits during moments of doubt, and Marinette found herself confiding in him more than she had ever thought possible. It was much easier to talk with him behind the mask. There was less terror that she would end up giving her identity away when she was Marinette. They shared secrets and dreams, their bond growing stronger with each exchanged letter.

One night, as Marinette sat by her window, watching the stars twinkle in the sky, she began to scribble down a letter filled with honesty and vulnerability.

Dearest Chaton,

I want to thank you for being there for me, even when you don't realize it. Your letters mean the absolute world to me, and I feel like I can be myself when I write to you. There's something special about our connection, something I can't quite put into words. I hope you feel the same.

Yours sincerely,

Marinette

She tucked her letter away into an envelope, feeling a sense of both anticipation and nervousness. This was the most honest that she had ever been with him about her feelings. She only hoped that his reaction upon reading it would be a positive one. 

Days passed, and Marinette's heart raced every time she heard a noise on her balcony, wondering if it was Chat coming to read her letter. Finally, one evening, she heard a very familiar thump on her balcony.

Marinette's heart skipped a beat as she craned her ears to listen for the usual footsteps on her balcony. Not wanting to wait any longer, she scrambled for her trapdoor, her pulse quickening with excitement and a hint of nervousness. Could it be her Chaton coming over to finally read her letter?

Sure enough, as she pushed open her balcony’s trapdoor, she saw him standing there, his silhouette outlined against the moonlit sky. He glanced around as if searching for something before his gaze finally landed on her. His gaze brightened as soon as she saw her and she couldn’t help herself from beaming back at him.

"Hey there, purrincess!" Chat's voice carried the usual cheerful tone, but Marinette couldn't help noticing a hint of eagerness in his eyes. Could he be as excited for her letter as she was?

"Chaton!" Marinette greeted him, trying to contain her excitement. "What brings you here tonight?"

Chat chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, just felt like dropping by. You know, I was in the neighborhood," he said with a wink.

Marinette couldn't help but smile at his playful demeanor. "Well, I'm glad you're here. Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

Chat glanced around the balcony, his gaze lingering on the various hiding spots where Marinette had often hidden letters for him. "Actually, I was wondering if you had any new letters for me. I mean, I always look forward to your messages."

Marinette's heart fluttered at his words. "Um, yeah.” She chuckled softly, tapping her index fingers together. “I actually do have something for you. But you’ll need to find it first." She winked back over at him.

“Mmm, would it be up here?” he hummed, raising a brow at her playfully.

“Purrhaps,” she responded, rocking back on her heels.

Quickly, he dove for one of her potted plants as he scoured the inside of it. Marinette giggled softly as she watched him. Did he always have to be so cute?

“Not in there,” she sang, teasing him with a wide smile.

He narrowed his eyes at her before his gaze drifted over to her small table. In an instant, they sparkled over at her knowingly. Carefully, he plucked the lid off of her tea kettle and fished inside, pulling out the small letter.

“How did you find that so quickly?” She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms against her chest. Marinette huffed quietly, scuffing at the ground with the sole of her shoe. She had hoped it would have taken him at least a little longer.

“I know you too well, I guess purrincess.” Eagerly, his gloved fingers traced over the envelope. Chat ran his fingers along the calligraphy of his name as he eyed it admiringly. "A new letter though, huh? Can't wait to read it!" He flashed her a bright smile before carefully opening the envelope.

As he read her heartfelt words, Marinette watched him intently, trying to gauge his reaction. She couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Would he understand her feelings? Would he feel the same way? Or, would he laugh at her for even trying to tell him?

After what felt like an eternity, Chat looked up from the letter, his eyes meeting hers. There was a softness in his gaze, a depth of emotion that made Marinette's heart race even faster.

"Marinette," Chat began, his voice gentle and sincere. "Your letter... It was so sweet. I feel the exact same way about our connection. It's something special. Something that’s beyond words for me too."

Marinette felt a rush of relief and joy flood through her. She had revealed the smallest hint of her newfound feelings towards him, and he had responded with exactly what she had needed him to. It was a moment she would treasure forever. And maybe... maybe someday, she’d be able to tell him that she loved him too.

"Thank you, mon Chaton," Marinette said softly, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "For being you, for being here. Just like always. You have no idea just how much this meant to me."

Chat grinned, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. He tugged her closer to him as he pulled her into a tight hug. "Always, Marinette. I'll always be here for you."

And as they stood there on her balcony, beneath the starry sky, Marinette felt like she was slowly growing. That she was getting past all of her fears and worries about needing to know every single little minute detail about her crushes that Chloé had instilled in her. And, of course, it was Chat that was helping her slowly get past this.

[artzzyb00-27]

{🧡Silence in Darkness🧡}

Trigger Warnings: Attempted assault and rape. I know people who have gone through this and experienced it further sadly. My heart goes out to victims of assault and rape and I hope justice goes in your favor.

After meeting the turtles, reader was wrapped into their world and way of life quickly. A main reason being that talking wasn't easy for her. Their first meeting was after Mikey had fallen off a building and into a dumpster. Reader had been drawing in her sketchbook and heard the noise through her headphones. Sitting on the edge of her fire escape looking out to the city, getting inspiration from the colorful lights.

Taking off her headphones and looking over the fence to see what happened, Mikey was looking up laying on his shell in the dumpster with his legs hanging out. Obviously being too big to fit completely. Reader paused her music and rushed down to check on him. Freaking out over the fact he was a giant mutant turtle quietly in her head. His brothers came down quickly, making sure she wasn't going to take a picture or try to expose them, then realizing she wanted to get close to Mikey.

Donnie had checked his brother and then reader did the same. Pulling out some gum from her pocket, and offering some to the orange-clad turtle. Once doing the same to the three other mutants, they tried to talk her out of telling someone. When she only nodded and didn't respond, Donnie had come to the assumption she was mute.

"We should get going now, have a good night, um-" he paused waiting for her to at least give them some sort of title to her person.

"Reader." the turtles nodded and began to leave. Mikey had stayed behind and asked for her number then put her name as 'Mouse 🐭' on his phone. For shits and giggles, she put him under 'Turtle with Orange zazz'. Since then they've been close, but not enough for her to talk vocally.

She would either respond with head movements, or writing, and sometimes facial expressions. Mikey was the most persistent, why wouldn't he? Outgoing extroverts always love to make shy introverts come out of their comfort zone to make something bright of themselves that shows others they're more than a stereotypical quiet kid.

Music had also become a way of interaction between the quartet and small human. While reader had a variety of preferences, they weren't picky, so they bonded with each of the turtles over their music. Mikey was a hiphop guy, while Leo loved Metal and Raph preferred classic Rock like David Bowie, Queen, Metallica, and Joan Jett. Donnie was more indie than any of them, but occasionally listened to rap while experimenting on side projects.

Reader would sometimes stay the night a couple months after meeting and tonight was one of those nights. Some would say sleeping on the couch was uncomfortable, especially the couch the turtles had. Reader would disagree, it was more comfortable than her bed back home. For what reason? She didn't know, and didn't need to know. However, tonight she felt restless and couldn't go to bed. On impulsive thoughts, she decided to walk near the pier and take a breather. Not knowing Mikey was following from the rooftops.

He had gotten up to go get some water when he saw her walking out of the lair with her red and gray-lined jumper Raph had given her for her birthday. Being the chivalrous turtle that he was, he went to make sure she was safe. So far everything was good, and Mikey was just admiring her from afar. While also being a good friend and ready to step-in if need. She may be shy but that didn't mean she couldn't fight.

Just then a guy wearing a gray hoodie had stopped her to talk. Getting a nervous feeling, Mikey got his weapons ready, even though he most likely wouldn't need them.

"Hey little lady, whatcha' doin' out here?"

"Walking." Vague and simple, almost always gets the guy to lose interest. Sadly this guy wasn't right in the head and pushed her against the railing putting a hand on her neck. She punched him on the sides making him belch in pain. She tried running back to the lair but the guy ended up tripping her and got on top of her. Holding her arms with one hand and the other heading towards her pants.

Suddenly getting kicked into the railing and ended up falling down to the beach below. Reader got up to look over and saw the guy knocked out. Or dead? Who knows, he was off of her and that's what mattered. Finally noticing the giant shadow next to her, she turned and took Mikeys' appearance in. Still a bit shaken from the experience she took some deep breaths making Mikey look at her.

"You okay?" she nodded in response. Mikey didn't expect her to talk, not after that. He put a hand on her back and guided her lightly to the direction back to the lair. While in the alley heading to a sewer grate, she gained some strength in her voice to talk.

"Thanks for that." Mikey paused for a sec then continued while smiling.

"Just doing the right thing. You can always count on me you know?" he asked, though it sounded more of a statement then anything. She nodded and waited for the grate to be opened.

"Really though, I think I might need more training. Wanna help?"

"Sure, anything to spend time with my favorite human. Don't tell April." reader laughed lightly and made her way down the ladder.

"My lips are sealed." The rest of the way they held a conversation. Once arriving they said goodnight and the next morning they were talking to each other first thing. The others confused on what had happened for this to be the result, didn't question it vocally until reader left the lair to get ready for work at the bakery.

Mikey only said they took a walk last night and bonded. Call it what you will, but Mikey was glad she came out her shell in the right way after that experience. He'd hurt or kill anyone who tried that again.

[deserteye]

CHAPTER TWO ;; That Old Statue

YOUR P.O.V.

I sighed, standing to catch my breath as I sped walked back to my cabin, staring and enjoying the view of this old wooden cabin I inherited from my parents.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead, walking up the steps, and unlocking the door. I walked inside, saying hello to my home. I set my groceries down on the counter, asking Alexa to play a playlist on my Spotify account. Humming and bouncing to the beat, putting my groceries away while listening to the song. A few crows stopped by the railing from my patio that surrounds the outside of my house, and I smile, opening the window for them to hop inside.

I fill their feed with food I got from the store, seeds, nuts, and berries, petting one of them and putting the paper grocery bags in my paper recycling. I enjoyed making my own paper for my books, which gave them an aesthetically pleasing feel.

I start singing quietly to the next song that came on, making myself a cup of coffee and putting it in a closeable cup. I also grabbed an apple, my sketchbook, my phone, and my earbuds. I transfer Spotify to my phone and plug my earbuds into my phone and ears, humming softly as I leave my house through the backdoor, wandering past my backyard and into the forest.

After a while of wandering, my data started to glitch and give out, and I noticed that my crows had stopped following me, speaking of, there wasn't any wildlife around. Not even a bug or songbird. I hummed, putting my earbuds in my pocket and coming to a clearing, with a statue.

I was a bit stunned by the statue, as it was leaning towards me, its hand out like it wanted to shake my own. I stared at it for a moment, moss and a few vines growing on them. I walked further into the clearing, looking around.

"Did, you scare away all the animals?"

I asked, not getting a response. Go figures. I laughed to myself.

"My name is Y/N, Y/N Sphinx. I didn't know you were out here, wondering who put you here."

I hummed, appreciating the aura of the area, sitting in front of him.

"I hope you don't mind if I draw you,"

I mumbled, pulling my sketchbook out and a pencil, starting to lightly sketch.

BILL CIPHER'S P.O.V.

After being flung down from The Axolotl's Domain, I quickly caught myself when I reentered the Mindscape, seeing I was stuck in this small clearing where my physical body remained. I sighed, looking at the statue, sitting down on my arm, and mumbling angrily.

"How dare it flick me like a bug.."

I mumbled angrily before a presence caught my attention, and I floated up, looking in front of me.

That familiar Y/H (Your Height), S/C (Skin Color) kid came into view, except now I could see their features much better, specifically the Sphinx's ancient forehead birthmark I cursed their bloodline with so I could find them easily. A picture of my eye; it's quite perfect to find in my opinion.

"Did, you scare away all the animals?"

"How could I? I just got here!"

I said in response, only to see they couldn't hear me, as they approached me.

"My name is Y/N, Y/N Sphinx. I didn't know you were out here, wondering who put you here."

"I know who you are! And it was those damn Pines.."

I cursed under my breath, floating over to circle the Sphinx. Once they sat in front of me, I rolled my eyes, and sat next to them, crossing my arms.

"I hope you don't mind if I draw you,"

"Wh- Draw me??"

I questioned, looking over and watching him pull out a sketchbook and pencil, and started sketching my statue. I stared wide-eyed, floating up and over his shoulder, causing his hair to stand on end; guess I do have an effect in the third dimension. I watched him sketch me, slightly fascinated by the movement of his hand that made quite impressive drawing of me.

YOUR P.O.V.

Soon enough, it'd almost been an hour since I found this statue, and I looked at the pictures I'd drawn of the statue, smiling to myself before standing up, and closing my sketchbook. I approached the statue, smiling awkwardly.

"Thank you for letting me draw you, it was a pleasure meeting you."

I smiled, reaching out and grabbing the hand that extended towards me, and I suddenly felt myself grow tired and fall.

When I woke up, the world was suddenly black and white, and hazy, and suddenly a figure who looked exactly like the triangular statue floated above the statue.

"Well, well, well then! Glad to see I can still drag people into the Mindscape,"

The triangle called. I yelped, backing up and hitting an invisible wall. The small clearing I found before was now all I could see, everything beyond that was just, a dark grey void.

"Hey! Relax kid, you're just in the Mindscape."

The triangle floated closer to me, and I winced, trying to hide deeper in the corner.

"Yeesh, you weren't scared of me when drawing my physical form."

He laughed, and I looked at him and the statue.

"Wh-Who- What- How-" I stammered, still sitting, cornered on the ground.

"You've seriously never heard of me? Wow, your bloodline has seriously failed your ancestor, hahaha!"

He laughed, tipping his hat.

"Name's Bill Cipher, and you're Y/N Sphinx, an ancestor of a long line of Egyptian royalty, and Miss Sphinx, Goddess of Protection and The Desert, also known as my arch enemy who turned me into this."

He growled when mentioning this 'Miss Sphinx', gesturing to his body.

"Miss Sphinx-? I don't know what you're talking about- I mean, I know I was related to Egyptian royalty but everyone is related to some kind of royalty nowadays-"

I mumbled, pulling the collar of my sweater.

"Hey, let's get to that later. Listen up Kid, The Big Axolotl upstairs decided to give me a second chance. And with this second chance, I need to finish some business with a few people, including you."

His voice deepened, and his figure grew to intimidate me, which worked successfully.

"Wh-What kind of business-?"

I asked nervously, feeling any ounce of confidence I had in myself leave almost instantly.

"Well! Your dear, old great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, something-something, great grandmother Sphinx banished me to the second dimension, stealing some of my powers as well. So, I've come here to kill you and regain my full power!"

He explained, and my heart sank.

"Wh-What-?! H-Hold on- there's gotta be a way to do this without you killing me, right-?!"

I stammered, completely in fight or flight mode.

"Hmm.. Alright, kid, you've caught my interest. What's your bargain?"

He asked, floating back and leaning his arms against his cane.

"I- I don't know-? I mean, you clearly know more about my family then I do-! A-And I'm sure you can read my mind and tell I'm not lying- Right-?"

I gestured with my hands, physically shaking from nerves.

"Please, I could tell that without reading your mind, you look like you're about to crumble into dust!"

He laughed. I pouted, crossing my arms, feeling embarrassed.

"O-Okay, so, you want your, 'powers' back, and I, have these powers-? If we can find a way to give you these powers, I will happily give them to you, I do not want some weird powers."

I reassured him, and he thought for a moment, making a small 'hum'.

"Well, the only way I could think of is to make it so you harness these powers, and I can just pull them out of you! But, I'll need to be in the third dimension to do that."

He explained, and I pulled myself up, trying to stop myself from shaking.

"Here's the deal, you give me a physical form and give me my powers back, and I won't kill you!"

He smiled, holding his hand out, as it engulfed in blue flames.

"W-Wait-"

I stammered, and his face showed some angered annoyance.

"Can, you also tell me about my family? About this Miss Sphinx person and stuff-? And, what happened to you?"

I asked nervously, and he seemed to relax, a bit taken aback by the last statement.

"Ah, sure thing, easy enough!"

He agreed, his face relaxing.

"Then, it's a deal."

I agreed, pulling my hand out and shaking his.

· · ─────── ·⃤ ─────── · ·

Next Chapter | CHAPTER THREE ;; Tall & Blonde

Last Chapter | CHAPTER ONE ;; Return to the Falls

[username8746489]

Prompt, the boys are working on their comic at the art room when it starts to rain outside. They have to decide if they're gonna wait the rain out or try their luck going outside.

"What do you think of this akuma design?" Nathaniel asked, holding up his sketchbook.

Marc oohed at it in awe, eyes sparkling as he rambled, "I really like it! I love the way you used the same color palette as the last akuma to emphasize the relationship between the two! Ooh, and the weapon is going to be so much fun to write for!"

Nathaniel blushed, hiding his smile behind the cover of his book.

Their talk was interrupted by a flash of light from outside the window, followed by a loud thunderbolt.

Marc shrieked, launching himself forward into Nathaniel's arms. He stayed for a moment, processing their position before jumping back, face bright red, "Sorry! Sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Nathaniel chuckled, patting his back, "No problem." He turned to look outside at the dark clouds. "I didn't realize it started raining." He frowned, "My mom wanted me home by dinner. I don't know if it'll still be warm by the time this rain lets up." The artist sighed, slumping in his seat, "And it was my favorite too..."

Marc stood up suddenly. Nathaniel didn't get a chance to ask what was wrong before he started shoving his items into his backpack.

"We'll get you home in time for dinner," Marc promised, a determined glint in his eye.

"...How are we supposed to leave during the storm?" Nathaniel asked, although still following the writer in packing his things.

"If we run fast enough, we can dodge the rain!" Marc beamed, a confident grin on his face.

Nathaniel stared at him, "I know you're like super op when it comes to soccer, but I don't think that's how it works-"

"Come on!"

Despite Nathaniel's protests, Marc dragged him out of the art room, hurrying down the stairs as fast as they could without slipping. He could already feel his clothes and hair sagging against his body, sticking to his skin as raindrops pelted them.

But even still, any complaints he had died in his throat as they ran across the courtyard, Marc turning back to look at him. He was soaking wet but his smile still shone bright as the sun.

Nathaniel couldn't help laughing along with him as they made their way up to the entrance. They stood in the door for a while, wringing out what little water they could before turning to where the metro was located, just a couple more feet away.

The two of them looked at each other, grinning wildly as they prepared to bolt through the rain once again.

"What are you guys doing?"

They both jumped, turning around to where Alix was standing, hands on her hips with a raised eyebrow.

"What?! How are you dry?!" Nathaniel sputtered.

"I walked along the walls." Alix drawled, pointing back inside. When they followed her gaze, they saw that large sections of the ground floor were indeed dry since they were covered by the second floor.

"...Oh."

[katabay]

I'm going to be honest finding your account has sent me down a rabbit hole I did not expect to find myself in, yesterday I spent six hours, looking at all of your stuff and I'm absolutely amazed, I have no words. Your art and everything you talk about I'm absolutely fascinated in a very normal way I don't mean to sound weird. I was wondering if you had any thoughts to share with someone who's hating everything they draw and have lost the fun and passion when creating, I want to snap out of it.

I've been holding onto this ask for a minute because a few years back I went through a phase (I call it a phase, I fully intended never to pick up art again) where I also hated everything I was making

ultimately, what got me out of it was mostly doing other stuff. not even in a 'get a new hobby,' kind of way, I hated drawing in my sketchbook, so I started cutting out washi tape as clothes over old sketches and filling in the negative space between scribbles with highlighter and pen colors I thought looked nice. I went out to daiso, bought $10 worth of stickers, and started putting them where I thought it would look nice when I got the urge to do something but still couldn't bring myself to actually pick up a pencil.

if there's something that you know for sure you don't like about art, it can help to confront it and then go in the other direction. there were a lot of things I used to draw because I felt like it was expected, only I was unhappy all the time, and once I realized I was unhappy because I wasn't actually exploring what I thought was interesting about the subject holding my attention, it was sometimes easier to see what I DID want to do, I just had to acknowledge what I DIDNT want first.

that said, I still have an on-off again antagonism with myself and art, it's messy and it's always going to be that way for me, but whenever I feel stuck, I do try to change things up, or head off to a space that I feel has absolutely no expectations from me whatsoever. like. whenever I get really annoyed on my history blog, I actually turn to watching 2PM's vlogs on youtube. I have enough 2PM art in my sketchbooks I almost thought about making a dedicated HOTTEST twitter account lmao.

probably my last thought on this might be: try keeping two sketchbooks. nothing expensive. one can be something more serious, but keep a space just for yourself to fuck around in. don't draw in it unless you want to. put stickers in it, press flowers that you think look neat. buy some cheap water colors and see if you like the blues that you get out of it. it's okay to feel antagonistic towards art, but if you aren't ready to break up with it (and art will always be there if you want to go back, that's an important thing), I've found the straightforwardness of 'I like these stickers, so I'm going to put them on top of this square of blue I liked,' to be akin to leaving messages for someone you aren't ready to talk to face to face just yet, but maybe someday.