[fic] lurk

anorable I FINISHED IT!!! i hope you like it, friend <3 uwu

song rec: Lurk - The Neighbourhood

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Killua likes to think that Gon is easy to understand, easy to deal with, because Gon is pretty simple with whatever he means. Deceit isn’t in his nature and he says things as they are, even if they don’t always sound right. Even if they’re embarrassing things that he should keep his mouth shut for, but Gon is Gon, and Killua is used to that.

He thought he was used to that.

“Killua?”

“Huh?” He swallows and his voice breaks, cracking in a way that makes him want to just die. Gon doesn’t seem to mind that tiny faltering sound, doesn’t seem to care when he presses closer. “Wait,” he tries, squeezing his eyes shut as he puts both of his hands on Gon’s shoulders to stop him. “Stop- what the hell are you doing?!”

“Trying to hug you,” Gon says, an odd tone in his voice when he pauses mid-lean. He covers both of Killua’s hands with his own, touches pale white skin with calloused palms in a way that makes Killua flush red with embarrassment. “But you’re not letting me. Why?”

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→ Sep 30 2014 / PERMALINK

Anonymous said: I really wanna be able to draw as awesome as you, how did you get so good at art?? How did you practice??

awww, thank you friend!! I just practiced a lot by sketching something every day! Ah, and I used a lot of tutorials and books as references too! I recommend giving Andrew Loomis’ books a read. <3

→ Sep 30 2014 / PERMALINK

(2 notes) reply anon Anonymous
[Artist!AU Kirugon]
“There’s an awful lot of white in your painting today, Gon,” Killua comments, turning the piece of paper over in his hands while squinting at it like it’ll reveal some sort of secret if he looks at it in a certain way. “Clouds?”
“You,” Gon says absently, not looking up as he stifles the urge to trace the lines over the paper in his hands. He knows what it’s like, what it does to touch art carelessly, and the last thing he wants is to ruin Killua’s sketch of that one place in Whale Island that he’d shared with him. Everything Killua does, he’s come to realize over the years, is important. Everything means something, as much as Killua likes to pretend that he’d only thought of drawing certain things on a whim.
“Me?” Killua asks incredulously.
“That’s you,” he nods, smiling brightly as he looks up from Killua’s sketch. “The whites of your hair, and your skin, and the clothes you always wear.” He crawls closer, taking his tiny watercolor case and sketch with him when he goes. “I thought the blue paint would’ve made it obvious, but I guess not?”
[[MORE]]
“The color is too light for me to make anything out properly,” Killua mumbles, turning away as he squints at the paper in his hands again. “But that’s always been your style.”
“Just like how it’s always been your style to not color anything in,” he retorts, grinning when Killua rolls his eyes at him. “But that’s what I’m here for, right? And you’re here to make my paintings look more like what they’re supposed to be.”
“Because you suck at making anything clear,” Killua says, sighing as he places the paper flat on the floor to lean back on his hands. His shoulders hunch up with the movement and Gon watches it, watches him as he breathes and sighs and stretches; realizes a little too late that he has a lot to make up for. They’d only been talking online for the past three years until Killua had somehow, through ways Gon probably shouldn’t know about, managed to gain his independence from his family with his sister by his side.
Now they’re living together, in a place where Killua’s family won’t easily find them. Gon would feel bad if Killua’s family were any other normal family, taking their son and daughter away from them just like that, but. They weren’t really a great family anyway, and Gon thinks Killua and Alluka are better off the way they are now. Killua certainly seems happier here too, being with Alluka and him.
It feels like family, in a way that’s different from how he is with Mito-san. It feels nice, and warm, and perfect.
“Take a picture, Gon,” Killua says, sly tone snapping him out of his thoughts and making him refocus until he sees the smirk on Killua’s face. “It lasts longer.”
“Hah,” he laughs dryly, shaking his head as he turns his gaze back down to the paper in his hands. “I don’t think I’d need that when I have you right here, Killua.”
“I can’t sit still for you all day if you’re not paying me for it, though.”                                                           
“Mean.”
“Gotta make a living out of something,” Killua drawls, sitting up straight from his previous position to get another good look of Gon’s painting. “It’s surprising how much it pays to just sit still for a couple of people.”
“It pays because not a lot of people are good at sitting still,” Gon comments, more than aware that he’s one of those people, though he can sit still if he really, really has to. “And not a lot of people have nice bodies.”
A pause.
Killua laughs when realization hits, the sound escaping his mouth rich with amusement and happiness that Gon can’t help from grinning at having made Killua happy. “Are you flirting with me?”
“I’m just being honest,” he says, giggling when Killua playfully kicks out a foot at his thigh. “Really!”
“I bet you say that to all the ladies,” Killua giggles, hands busying themselves with wiping at the tears of laughter in his eyes. “Anyway, are you serious about this? This is me?” he asks, gently tapping a finger on Gon’s painting. “I’m aware that a lot of artists make portraits of themselves, but that isn’t really my thing. It isn’t yours either, is it?”
“Even so, I want you to do it,” he insists, grinning at the squinting gaze Killua directs at him. “It has to be you, Killua!”
“Well, I am great at drawing people,” Killua murmurs, turning his gaze back to the painting- not noticing the victorious grin on Gon’s face at having succeeded in baiting him. It’s hard sometimes, considering how good Killua is at picking up hints of being baited into something, but it works more often than not. It’s mostly because he just can’t say no to Gon, though.
“Someday,” he begins, smiling to himself as he flattens out Killua’s drawing on the floor, “I’ll learn to sketch beautiful things too.”
“You could always let me teach you,” Killua says in the middle of lying prone on the ground beside him. His cheek rests in his open palm as he gives Gon a look, eyelashes- dark, long, curling upwards in a way that makes Gon think beautiful- fluttering over his cheek with the beat of butterfly wings. “Just like how you’re teaching me to color my stuff in.”
“I don’t really have to teach you anything, though,” he says, pouting as he lies prone on the floor beside Killua. “You already know how to color your line art. I just tell you how to make things easier.”
“That’s still teaching me something,” Killua points out, smirking as he lowers his hand from his cheek to fold it in front of him. He reaches out with his other hand to get his favorite brush pen from his pencil case, twisting the cap off before bowing his head and starting on Gon’s painting. “I know the basics, but I don’t know everything. Not like you do.”
“Still,” he huffs, opening his own box of watercolors and getting his brush from its compartment. “I want to learn on my own, just a bit, so I can be the one to draw you someday.”
Killua raises an eyebrow in question.
“I’m letting you draw over my painting of you because I know that you’d make it look beautiful,” he explains, hoping that Killua understands. Yet all Killua does is tilt his head in bemusement, not looking at all like he gets what Gon means. Again, he tries, “I want to learn how to draw beautiful sketches because I want to be able to draw you someday- without having to ask for your help.”
For a moment, Gon sees a hint of disappointment in Killua’s eyes at the notion. He isn’t sure if he’d imagined it or if it were real but he rectifies himself anyway, because what is the point of saying any of this if it’ll just make Killua look sad? He says, “I didn’t mean it like I don’t want your help anymore! I just- I meant that I want to be able to draw you, all of you, without having to rely on you to make it as beautiful as it should be.”
“I…okay.” Killua blinks, frowns, before moving his hand away from Gon’s painting. “Did you just,” he breathes out, capping his brush pen again lest he accidentally ruin the drawing under his hands. He takes a moment to close his eyes, free hand coming up to cover his mouth as he thinks of what to say. After a minute, he mumbles, voice slightly muffled by his hand, “Did you just imply that I’m beautiful?”
He grins brightly at Killua’s words, glad that he’d finally gotten his point across. “Yeah!”
“I can’t believe- you are so shameless,” Killua groans, bowing his head until Gon can’t see his face at all. “Do you even think of the words that come out of your mouth?”
“Mmhm,” he hums, nodding as he turns his attention back to Killua’s drawing. “Of course I do. If I didn’t, then that would mean I didn’t mean it.”
Killua only offers a grumbling sound in reply. Gon peeks over to his right when minutes pass and Killua doesn’t say anything else, sees Killua making careful strokes of black ink of paper, and smiles when he raises his gaze and gets a glimpse of pink-tipped ears.
Beautiful doesn’t quite sound right- like it’s not enough, being too small a word to encompass the entirety of who Killua is for him, and Alluka, and everyone else that understood who Killua really is.

But beautiful, he thinks, is the simplest word he can find to let Killua know that he’s more than who he was made to be.

[Artist!AU Kirugon]

“There’s an awful lot of white in your painting today, Gon,” Killua comments, turning the piece of paper over in his hands while squinting at it like it’ll reveal some sort of secret if he looks at it in a certain way. “Clouds?”

“You,” Gon says absently, not looking up as he stifles the urge to trace the lines over the paper in his hands. He knows what it’s like, what it does to touch art carelessly, and the last thing he wants is to ruin Killua’s sketch of that one place in Whale Island that he’d shared with him. Everything Killua does, he’s come to realize over the years, is important. Everything means something, as much as Killua likes to pretend that he’d only thought of drawing certain things on a whim.

“Me?” Killua asks incredulously.

“That’s you,” he nods, smiling brightly as he looks up from Killua’s sketch. “The whites of your hair, and your skin, and the clothes you always wear.” He crawls closer, taking his tiny watercolor case and sketch with him when he goes. “I thought the blue paint would’ve made it obvious, but I guess not?”

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→ Sep 29 2014 / PERMALINK


anorable is ruining my life tbh

anorable is ruining my life tbh

→ Sep 28 2014 / PERMALINK

some doodles i reposted from my twitter, ehehe

→ Sep 28 2014 / PERMALINK

 ( ´ ▽ ` )/ I did a screencap redraw from the last ep of tokyo ghoul for my new header! 

→ Sep 26 2014 / PERMALINK

He can’t sleep.
He’s counted to seven minutes now, counted sheep, counted the stars and Gon’s little breaths because he doesn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t this hard before, falling into slumber with Gon by his side, and he doesn’t even know just what is to blame for his sleeplessness.
“Unfair,” he grumbles under his breath, letting a sigh escape him as he turns to look at Gon’s peacefully sleeping face. It’s unfair, but I don’t think I really mind, he thinks, letting that tiny frown change (slowly, gradually) into a soft smile. I’m glad that you can sleep like this, that you feel safe beside me. Because safe isn&#8217;t what he is, isn&#8217;t what he&#8217;s supposed to be, but Gon feels safe with him anyway.
But what else should he have expected? He should have seen it coming, being who he was, that the one person who&#8217;d treat him normally- who&#8217;d see him as more than what he was taught to be, was the one person who didn&#8217;t know what normal was. 
He&#8217;s so distracted by his thoughts that he doesn&#8217;t even notice it, how his hand is already reaching out- already an inch close to touching Gon’s cheek- until he stops and abruptly pulls his hand back in realization.
What the hell am I doing? 
[[MORE]]
“You really,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face in embarrassment and exasperation, “really make me stupid, Gon.” 
You make me happy, so happy that I don’t know what to do with myself, he thinks; he blushes just thinking about it, hides his face in his hands even though he knows that no one is looking. “Shit,” he murmurs to himself, trying his best to ignore the loud thump-thumping sound in his ears. 
You were light, and you still are, but now you’re pulling me in before I can even try to look away.
“S’that so?”
Killua’s eyes blink open the moment he hears Gon’s sleepy voice, though it takes a moment for him to digest just what it was that was said. “What..?” he asks, confused, until he lowers his hands and notices the cheeky grin on Gon’s face.
“I heard.”
He blinks again.
“You were light, and-“
“Can we pretend I didn’t just say that?” he snaps the moment he hears the word “light” pass from Gon’s lips. He hadn’t even meant to say that out loud! “Since when were you awake, anyway?” he asks, blithe in tone and facial expression, trying to change the topic as quickly as possible so that Gon won’t say anything embarrassing in reply to what he’d thoughtlessly spoken aloud. 
“Since “you were light, and you-””
“I got it,” Killua interrupts before he can say more, holding his open hand up as a gesture for him to stop. He can already tell from the affectionate (and that still surprises him, being on the receiving end of such a gentle look) smile on Gon’s face that he’s blushing, and he really doesn’t want to talk about it. “Just. It slipped out,” he reasons lamely.
“You must love me a lot, huh?” Gon asks, sleepy and teasing as he props his head on his folded arm.
Killua frowns at the question. That much should be obvious already, especially after everything that’s already happened. “Of course I do.”
Gon’s smile widens and Killua bites his lip, not wanting to let it show just how warm it makes him feel to know that he can make Gon happy with such a small thing. Even though he knows that Gon deserves to be told about it, that he makes Killua happy without having to try so hard. He just can’t, not yet, because it’s still too much for someone like him. Gon says, smile soft, “I’m glad. I love you a lot too, Killua.”
“I know that,” he mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face in embarrassment as he closes his eyes for a moment. He knows that it’s futile to pretend that Gon’s cheeky smile isn’t there just because he can’t see it, but it’s all he can do to not end up more hopelessly embarrassed than he already is. “You say it often enough that I can’t even forget.”
“Good,” Gon says, his tone oddly serious that Killua can’t help from looking up at him in curiosity. Yet Gon is already smiling when he looks at him, his eyes warm and his hand gentle when he strokes Killua’s cheek. Killua feels his face grow hot at the touch but he doesn’t- can’t do anything to stop it; he’s already in far too deep to push Gon away now. “I,” Gon stops, clears his throat, before continuing with a smile, “I really want you to remember that. That I love you a lot.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I’m not just doing this for you, Killua,” Gon says and his voice comes out soft but firm, deeper than his usually high-pitched and boyish tone. It makes Killua’s heart stutter, just for a moment, because he doesn’t usually get to see this part of Gon often. “I’m doing this because I’m selfish. I’m doing this because,” and his voice trails off into a murmur, returning just as softly when he says, “I want you to remember me, always. No matter what you do. I want you to remember that I’m the one that you’re with now, that I’m the person who loves you a lot no matter what.”
“…you’re saying really dangerous things, Gon,” Killua says after a moment of silence, voice almost quiet as he covers Gon’s hand on his cheek with his own. He gives Gon’s hand a gentle squeeze, watching silently despite the odd warmth simmering under his skin from having Gon’s gaze on him.
Gon smiles. It’s a different kind of smile but not, because it still says, “I love you a lot, you know?”
“No, I’m not,” Gon murmurs, pulling his hand away from Killua’s cheek, but not before pushing away a stray strand of silver-white hair. 
“I just love you a lot, Killua.”

He can’t sleep.

He’s counted to seven minutes now, counted sheep, counted the stars and Gon’s little breaths because he doesn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t this hard before, falling into slumber with Gon by his side, and he doesn’t even know just what is to blame for his sleeplessness.

“Unfair,” he grumbles under his breath, letting a sigh escape him as he turns to look at Gon’s peacefully sleeping face. It’s unfair, but I don’t think I really mind, he thinks, letting that tiny frown change (slowly, gradually) into a soft smile. I’m glad that you can sleep like this, that you feel safe beside me. Because safe isn’t what he is, isn’t what he’s supposed to be, but Gon feels safe with him anyway.

But what else should he have expected? He should have seen it coming, being who he was, that the one person who’d treat him normally- who’d see him as more than what he was taught to be, was the one person who didn’t know what normal was. 

He’s so distracted by his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice it, how his hand is already reaching out- already an inch close to touching Gon’s cheek- until he stops and abruptly pulls his hand back in realization.

What the hell am I doing?

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→ Sep 24 2014 / PERMALINK

Anonymous said: Please stay. makorin (angst please?)

 “Please stay.”

Makoto hadn’t said it then, twelve years of age and scared of monsters and ghosts, and he isn’t saying it now. Even if he wants to, and even if it hurts to know that Rin is leaving again.

He knew what he would’ve said then, the moment that Rin had said he was leaving for Australia. He knew what he would’ve said if he had the strength, the confidence, but he didn’t have that. He doesn’t have that, not in the same way that Rin does.

“Have you finally figured out what you want to do?” Rin asks him and he smiles, the soft look something he’d prepared in case he got distracted by his thoughts. It’s been happening a lot ever since that time Haru ran away from him. Somehow, it feels a little like he’s being left behind by the people he cares about, but that isn’t true, is it? He’s the one who won’t follow after them, after all. It’s not their fault that he can’t- won’t- catch up.

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→ Sep 22 2014 / PERMALINK

radishcakeholes said: Kirugon with "I’ve got one word for you: sing-along!"

 “I think we’re missing something.”

“Huh?”

“We’ve got the campfire,” Gon says while turning in his sleeping bag. He looks up at the sky littered with stars, beautiful but not as beautiful as it would be in Whale Island, and adds, “and we’ve got the marshmallows. We’re sleeping in a tent too. I wonder what we’re missing…”

“I wouldn’t know,” Killua says in a soft exhale. He’s looking up at the same sky when Gon looks at him, his expression a thoughtful one as he props his head over his folded arms. “It’s not like I’ve gone out camping a lot- especially not for fun.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he hums, turning again until he’s facing Killua completely. He props his head up with a folded arm and grins when Killua turns his head to look at him. “But that’s what I’m here for! We’ll make a lot of memories to make up for the experiences you couldn’t have before.”

Killua huffs out a laugh. “That’s a lot of things you’ve got to make up for, Gon.”

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→ Sep 22 2014 / PERMALINK

Anonymous said: So yeah this is a little late but I follow you because I saw your art and thought it was amazing!! Plus you're an awesome writer!

Awww ;;w;; <3 thank you so much, friend! You’re very sweet ;v; <3!!

→ Sep 21 2014 / PERMALINK

(0 notes) reply anon Anonymous