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ilongfor-the-arts · 1 year

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Could you do a fanfic where the marquis meets the reader in a museum and they bond over their live of art

Meet Me in the Hallway

Pairing: Vincent de Gramont x fem! Reader

Warnings: VERY mild language

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 2.3k

The Louvre has maintained a particular place in my heart for as long as I can remember. As a child, I recall visiting during tourist season. The other children darted around, driving their guardians to the brink of insanity. However, I stood in front of the immense paintings, carefully analyzing each aspect of the art. I remember visiting The Louvre as a teenager during the winter, when the immense corridors were barren. I'd find a place to sit and ponder, observing faces and objects in the quiet halls. I recall taking advantage of any occasion to talk about art with friends and family.

My friends were perplexed by my preoccupation. When I rambled on, they would nod and appear to be attentive. But I could always tell by the look on their faces that they were eager for my rant to end.

I've always been drawn to art's beauty. One bad stroke, one outburst of rage, and the finished result may be jeopardized. Art is more than just a painting or a sculpture; it is a way of life. You must be able to look beyond what the eye can see in order to produce art. You must be able to view the world in a completely unique way. You must look for a message behind the eyes rather than simply viewing things analytically. Painters paint, artists interpret.

That is what separates the good from the iconic.

I enjoyed the near silence as I wandered through The Louvre. Because it being January, the museum was nearly totally populated with a sprinkle of wandering locals. I took a tour around my favorite section, French paintings 1780-1850. The gold frames stood out against the dark burgundy walls.

The atmosphere was serene. As night fell, the hallway was illuminated exclusively by a few fluorescent lights. The sensation that washed over me was one of sheer nostalgia and amazement.

The dimness of room 700, when combined with the massive displays showcasing the complexity of the human mind, gave off an ominous vibe. There was everything and nothing at the same time.

Nothing else on the planet can make you feel this way.

I proceeded to one of the most well-known works of art in the entire museum.

Ah, one of my favorites, Liberty Leading the People. Eugene Delacoix created this work of art in the year 1830. Delacoix depicts a scene during the July Revolution of 1830, when King Charles X-

Woah.

My gaze was drawn to a man sitting on a beautiful white couch.

I tightened my teeth to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor.

He was breathtakingly beautiful.

Was he a tourist?

No way, no how. No tourist would dress up in an expensive three-piece black suit to visit the Louvre. He's got to be a local.

He was staring at the enormous painting, his mind fixed in deep thought. Many locals stopped to look at the paintings, but he seemed to be examining every face and object.

Should I introduce myself? It would be the polite thing to do as I’ve been obviously staring at him for-

“Did no one ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

My trance was broken by his velvety accent. I hid my gitters by slipping my hands into the pockets of my beige trenchcoat.

“I’m sorry,” I said smugly, “You caught my eye.”

He sneered, a slight smirk playing on the edges of his lips. He couldn't take his gaze away from the painting. I swallowed, unsure how to dispel the uneasiness. The man uncrossed his lanky legs and pushed himself up to his full height.

He's tall, Jesus.

He strolled over to the picture, decreasing the distance between himself and the work of art to a few feet. He cocked his head upwards, his gaze wandering over the magnificent painting's many intricacies. The man put his hand on his hip and pushed his jacket to the side, revealing an astonishing variety of golden buttons along his vest.

“What do you think of this one?”

He asked, motioning with his free hand towards the canvas. I followed his movements, taking in the painting I know and adore.

“It’s a beautiful piece of art.”

I said hesitantly. The man chuckled, turning his head to meet my gaze. Despite being only three feet away, I found myself completely engrossed in his captivating green eyes.

“That’s it? It’s beautiful?”

His smirk now more prevalent than before. I exhaled a shuddery breath.

“Well, it’s one of the most famous paintings in art history. I think it's wonderful how this artwork has become a universal emblem of liberty and freedom from oppressive dominance.”

The man raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“That’s excellent insight. It’s good to meet people with an appreciation for the finer things in life.”

He returned his gaze to the canvas, motioning with his fingers for me to come towards him.

“Come closer, look at this.”

I was hesitant to approach this intimidating man, but my curiosity was far too strong to ignore. So I narrowed the gap between us to a mere six inches. As I took up a place next to him, our sides nearly brushed against each other.

He raised his finger to the stunning representation of liberty.

Take note of her features, such as her straight nose, plump lips, and delicate chin. They all look like antique Greek and Roman statues. She pays homage to both Ancient Greece, the birthplace of democracy, and Roman republican culture.”

I narrowed my eyes, mentally applying his words to the painting.

“Here, look at this,” I began, pointing to the left side of the painting.

“See that guy with the pistol? He's wearing a shirt but no jacket. He belongs to the lower class. But look at the man next to him; he's wearing a top hat, jacket, and vest. He belongs to the upper class. Delacroix aimed to include all classes of people in the fight against royalist oppression.”

The man exhaled in amazement.

“How fascinating. Delacroix’s artistic vision is truly unmatched.”

“I agree. This piece is probably my favorite in the entire museum.”

The man shrugged nonchalantly.

“It is certainly impressive. But my favorite would have to be Venus de Milo.”

He shifted his head to face me, sweeping his gaze up and down my figure. I shuddered, his heated gaze making me feel like I was under scrutiny.

“However, I suppose that opinion could simply be mine because I enjoy the presence of a beautiful woman.”

Holy shit was he flirting with me?

Heat climbed onto my cheekbones. I hoped my flush wasn't too visible, as his gaze was still fixed on me. I chuckled awkwardly.

“I suppose that could certainly contribute to your fondness of the piece.”

He motioned towards the white couch.

“Here, sit, let’s talk.”

He sat closer than I had expected. Our thighs were almost touching, and the arm slung around the back of the couch was almost brushing my shoulders. Despite the color on my cheeks and my minor intimidation of the man's large stature, I felt strangely at ease. I was intrigued rather than nervous. He exuded mystery, and I had every intention of unraveling the web of secrets.

“Do you believe talent like this is given at birth, or developed as the individual grows?”

I licked my lips, carefully contemplating my next words.

“Well, I believe we are all born blank canvases, and if we find something we are exceptionally passionate about, then we can grow those specific talents.”

I swallowed, hoping he was satisfied with that reply.

“How about you?”

“Oh, I believe people with true artistic talent are born with promise. Because if we go by your logic, anyone who loves art has the potential to become the next Delacroix.”

Wow, he was certainly quite the intellectual.

“Well, allow me to elaborate. Anyone can become a mediocre artist if they try,” I began, “but yes, I agree with you, only a few are born with the promise of artistic greatness. I mean, someone like Coco Chanel could never become the next Van Gogh or Delacroix, it just isn't meant to be. That isn’t where her talents lie.”

The man's lips curved into a smile. I locked my attention on his lovely green eyes. We were closer than I had imagined. His breath was cascading across my face. I inhaled sharply. He smelt amazing, like an expensive floral fragrance. It crept into my head, confounding my already hazy thinking.

“I like you… Miss…”

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.”

His smile widened even more, splitting his face to reveal a stunning row of white teeth.

“What a gorgeous name... It’s fitting, a gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman.”

His accent was dripping with charm. There was no way in hell this man didn't have a significant other. He was far too enticing and attractive to be single.

“You know, plenty of people wander these halls, knowing every name of every piece. Yet they don’t contemplate the true meaning of the art.”

His eyes were drawn to Liberty Leading the People. The man’s tone became somewhat agitated as he ran his tongue along his smooth bottom lip, his eyes narrowing.

“They only think about the art, they don’t contemplate it.”

He inhaled deeply, his chest softly rising and sinking beneath the pricey cloth.

“Thinking is simple, thinking is the most simple thing in the entire universe for humankind. Anyone can think, but not everyone can contemplate.”

I concur. It was pleasant to meet a thinker who cared so deeply about the beauty of art.

“Who’s your favorite painter?”

My face broke into a genuine smile.

“Paul Cezanne.”

“And why is that, Miss. Y/N Y/L/N.”

I adored how he said my name. It rolled off his tongue effortlessly, like butter on a hot pan. I could spend the entire day sitting next to him on a couch at the Louvre, listening to him utter my name.

“Well, because his distinct color-building technique and his analytical approach to nature had a great impact on the art of Cubists, Fauves, and many generations of avant-garde artists.”

I've never encountered somebody who would listen to my raving with such enthusiasm. And there was no one who properly comprehended my words and had the knowledge to respond intelligently. Not only on the subject of art, but also on the issue of life.

“Ah!”

He exclaimed, shooting a finger towards me.

“There it is!”

His hand fell to his lap.

“You, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, do not just think, you were born with the gift of careful contemplation.”

I'd dated a few men previously, but none had ever made me feel as great as this mysterious man. And I'd only known him for about 30 minutes. My eyes lit up with wonder when I heard his voice, and I hung on to every word with excitement.

“You have a dizzying intellect.”

His velvety tone dropped to an endearing whisper. My stomach flipped.

“It is very rare I meet a woman with such beauty, not only in her appearance, but in her demeanor as well.”

His long fingers pushed a stray hair behind my ear. I nearly flinched before realizing the gesture was benign. I could still feel his contact on my cheek after he removed his fingertips. He set fire to every nerve he came into contact with.

“Will you grant me the opportunity to become your acquaintance?”

His eyes were filled with anticipation. There it was, the date I'd been looking forward to throughout the duration of this conversation.

“I would like that very much Mr…”

“Vincent de Gramont.”

I hummed in delight.

“That’s a handsome name. It’s fitting, a handsome name for a handsome man.”

I said, slightly mocking his previous remark.

Vincent chuckled.

“Oh, you are a comedian as well. I like you more and more as time goes on.”

Vincent waited for a beat of silence before rising to his full height. Being the one seated while he stood certainly flipped the script. I felt small under his demeanor as his presence was felt throughout the room. He was comfortable in his own skin, demanding control of the atmosphere like a conductor.

“My bodyguards will ensure that you have all the information necessary to find my estate.”

Bodyguards?!

He indicated to two men in gray suits who were standing with their backs against the nearest maroon wall.

Wow.

I surely hoped they wouldn’t be hanging around when I finally seized the opportunity to speak with Vincent in private.

“Wonderful.”

“My estate is beautiful if I do have to say so myself. You will enjoy it.”

I can only imagine how magnificent his house was if this was the suit he decided to wear for a chance visit to a museum.

“There is lots of space, plenty of rooms to explore and places to sit and talk for hours.”

I couldn't keep a smile from breaking my face. Who would have guessed that when I walked into the Louver today, I'd walk out with a lovely new date?

“That sounds like a dream come true. I can’t wait to see it.”

Vincent returned my grin.

“I can not wait for you to see it. You will melt.”

He extended his hand. I hesitated for a moment before realizing he wanted me to lay my palm in his. Vincent leaned down and kissed the top of my hand in an exceedingly trendy gesture.

Wow, very gentlemanly.

If my cheeks weren’t pink before, they surely were bright red now.

“Thank you for granting me the pleasure of becoming your acquaintance, I look forward to seeing you around my estate.”

After his departure, I remained seated on the couch. I was unable to move, wanting to preserve the moment for as long as possible

#marquis de gramont #marquis x reader #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis vincent de gramont #vincent de gramont x you #vincent de gramont x reader #vincent de gramont #john wick 4 #john wick #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skargard #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard x reader

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vmpiires · 3 months

Text

﹆₊ 画家‧₊˚ THE BLOOD PAINTER, KAMO CHOSO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ art; the painter‘s hidden identity is made known. wc, 3.42K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. i’m back with this storyyyy. getting near the good part which also means the end but not just yet sooo just keep reading. hope ya enjoyyyy and reblog to support meee.

␥ tags. artist!choso, college AU, possible nsfw, female anatomy, smoking, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3 PART THREE

the art class was bustling with students, the scent of paint and clay wafting through the air. choso sat at his usual spot stealing glances from you. the professor announced a small project; drawing and painting your partners. but there was a twist—only two colors could be used.

choso’s heart raced as ideas began to flood his mind. everyone scattered around to their new seats and the male instantly scooted next to you. he smiled at you. it was something about that shy smile he gave you before he quietly asking if he could draw you.

“let me draw you first,” you smiled. “i don’t want you getting caught up with me and i completely forget to draw you.”

“oh, i don’t know…i’m not really good with posing or anything. and i’m not able to sit still for very long.” choso warned but you only smacked your lips as if the boy was spewing nonsense right out of his teeth.

“quit doubting yourself. you got nice style and your face would literally be perfect on a magazine cover maybe even in the art show that’s coming up.”

“art show?” choso raised a brow. for someone that loved art contests and taking trips to museums just to stare at the portrait hanging on the white walls encased in an embezzled gold frame, he seemed surprised about this information.

“yeah. don’t know how you haven’t heard about it but i was thinking of putting my painting of you in once it was finished.” you looked down at your blank canvas that was resting flat on the table just as it did when you first arrived to class.

“oh, no, you shouldn’t—i mean..you can if you want to it’s your painting but…i really don’t like being the center of attention. i don’t really like being stared at.” choso explained. he bit down on his lower lip and he sighed.

“come on, it’ll be a powerful piece.” you beamed. “i feel like it’ll really make an impact on the audience. and i promise i won’t use your name if you don’t want me to.”

choso hummed, his lips pursed before speaking again. “um…well if you think so highly of the piece then i guess i can’t say no. just promise you won’t tell anybody it’s me.”

“sure. now just hold still for me.” you say with a smile.

classes finally end for the day and the two of you made progress on your art pieces. you decided to ask choso to spend the rest of the day together, to which he agreed to without hesitation.

you both gathered your items and headed out into the bustling city of tokyo. the sun is setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. you and choso arrive at a cozy cafe and settled into a booth by a large window, surrounded by the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

the two of you had been there for a good thirty minutes talking about whatever came to mind, bouncing from topic to topic and bookmarking whatever part of the conversation you thought was interesting for another time.

“so, choso, you’ve always been into art?”

“yeah, well, i’ve always had a creative side, but i never really pursued it until recently. art helps me express things that are hard to put into words, you know?”

you nod. you never seen his art before and you just wondered how he had done things. your eyes travel over to the tote bag that was sitting flatly beside choso’s thigh. you fixed your lips to speak but a camera flash went off. you were pretty used to his off guard photos ever since the two of you started to hang out more often.

“can i see?” you leaned your body over the polished wood table before choso lowered his camera.

“not yet.” he answered. “mmm…i’ll show you when the project is complete. until then, i’ll have to hold off on showing you.”

you pout but you could understand why choso was being a bit selfish with his crafts. instead of begging to see a photo of yourself, which you prayed you didn’t blink in, you pointed to his bag.

“why don’t you finish your sketch? i mean, we have a lot of privacy right now and we don’t have any classes tomorrow. i also wanna watch you paint. its something about watching an artist in action is just so satisfying.” you say.

choso, lost in the depths of his own world, takes a sip of his green tea when he hears your unexpected statement. he recently started drinking it a bit more since that was the only thing he actually liked besides ice water.

feeling a surge of nervousness and excitement, choso shifts in his seat. painting in front of someone, especially you, made him feel vulnerable in a way he isn’t used to.

“i’m not sure…” choso looks down at his cup half filled with tea, which still had smoke billowing from it because of how hot it was. “i’ve never painted with someone else in the room before. it’s a pretty personal process for me.”

“c’mon, please? just for a minute.” you pleaded, clasping your hands and intertwining your fingers to be dramatic. choso chuckled at your silly behavior and simply sighed.

“let’s head back to the school and you can watch me work in my room, fair?” choso looks at you, awaiting an answer. of course, you agree.

back at jujutsu tech, you and choso were settling in, slipping your shoes off once you entered the room and placing your bags together against the wall.

you were amazed at how much space he had and how organized he was. the books on the bookshelves were all in size and color order and so were the cute little jars of paint that were on another shelf but you noticed that there was no red paint.

the desk was neatly organized also with choso’s laptop and ipad with its stylus side by side, charging. there was a mug with a bunch of pencils and pens and another cylinder item that looked handmade and painted with brushes in them. you assumed choso made it.

there was an easel in the corner of the room by the large windows that had blinds that would be shortly opened to let in some of the remaining light as the sun set. choso grabbed a few brushes and the rolling chair that sat at his desk and pulled it over in front of the easel and sat down. the male then reached for the canvas that had the drawing of you from his bag and placed it onto the easel. he looked pretty prepared now.

“you mind filling me a cup of clean water from the faucet?”

the question snaps you out of your awe-stricken mind and you nod. you went to the kitchen area and grabbed a cup that didn’t look like it would be used any time soon and filled it with water then brought it back to choso. he directs you to place the cup on the desk before thanking you for the simple gesture.

you noticed choso had his eyes closed now, taking a few breaths before removing the bandage on his nose and trashing it. you saw how blood shot from the black mark running over the bridge of his nose and onto the palette that was in his lap.

choso picks up one of the brushes and dipped it into the crimson liquid that had also been running down his face and began to paint. once the brush hits the canvas, all his nerves seem to dissipate, replaced by the familiar focus that comes with creating.

as choso dips his brush into the blood-infused paint, the room falls silent. the only sounds are the soft scrapes of the brush against the canvas and the occasional drips of paint.

you watched as colors of red and black filled the canvas. you weren’t familiar with the meanings of specific colors but the way you were drawn on his canvas as royalty, you could see sophistication and passion. choso put the brush down and rolled up his sleeves and began to use his fingers to paint. smearing the colors together with his knuckles.

your eyes sparkled, entranced, as choso’s knuckles danced across the canvas, blending the deep reds into the black that was present. the male was aware that he was in need of a palette knife but he’s never gotten the time to buy any.

“the way you use blood for your art is actually unique.” you spoke, breaking the silence. “i guess it adds depth and richness that’s hard to describe. it looks like the painting is alive almost.”

you were seeing it with your own eyes, his art style was hauntingly beautiful. you never seen anything like it. this whole scenario made you wonder if blood was often used when he painted or was this just a perfect coincidence. you slouch in your chair, in thought once again.

“blood has always been a part of me. a part of everyone, i should say. but mine is a curse and a blessing. incorporating it into my art feels natural to me. it’s like i’m putting a part of myself into each piece.” choso murmured.

“um…you know, i never heard you talk about your parents much, only your brothers. they must be really proud of you…you being all smart and artistic and such.” you say softly.

choso’s hand freezes mid stroke, his expression darkening. he sets down his brush and turns to face you. you see how that empty expression of his appeared onto his face again.

“my parents…they’re not in the picture. my mom isn’t alive and my dad was never proud of me. he only saw me as a tool, a weapon to be wielded. i’m happy he left me behind…”

your expression softens. on the outside, choso looked like he had it all. he was attractive, smart, talented, hell if he wasn’t the smartest guy around he probably would’ve gotten in just for being attractive and talented. he seemed perfect. but in reality, he was living in a fucked up world holding on to his creations for comfort.

“i’m so sorry, choso. i probably shouldn’t have brought that up and make you relive painful memories. but despite your past, you managed to create something beautiful out of the darkness. that takes a lot of courage and strength.”

choso nods, his gaze returning to the painting. he picks up his brush once again, lost in thought. he exhaled from his nose. though the topic did hit a nerve, he felt like he could trust you.

“it’s…fine i guess. it was a while ago. my brothers were the ones who helped me escape that life. we all live for each other and nothing can make me change that narrative. they’re my family and we’ve been through a lot together.”

“they must be really important to you, huh? you see them often?” you query. choso nodded again.

“as much as i can. i don’t really have the funds to constantly take train rides back and forth from my house to here and vice versa. we try to stay in touch, the most i can do is call them each night. yuji and eso are busy with their own business and you know they have to keep kechizu close because he’s pretty childlike and clings to eso like he’s his savior.”

you noticed the small smile on his face as he spoke of his brothers. him being the eldest, you would’ve expected him to severely despise his brothers but it seemed like he couldn’t even say the word ‘hate’ when talking about them. it was actually pretty sweet.

as the evening comes to an end, you find yourself standing outside of choso’s room and he’s leaning against the doorframe, his sleeves still rolled up, revealing thin strips of stitches along his forearm.

“what happened to your arm?” you point, making choso break his gaze and follow your finger to where you had been pointing. he only shrugged.

“a stupid accident. nothing too much to worry about.” he answered, rubbing the brand new bandage he had over his nose. his cheeks were still a little red from the blood that had been running down his face earlier.

“you should keep your bandage off. that mark is a part of who you are, and you know i accept that.” you say. choso is taken aback by your words, his hand instinctively touching the bandage again.

“it’s…not easy. people have always been afraid of me because of what what i am. it’s just easier to keep it hidden.”

“but you don’t have to hide from me. i see you, choso, for who you are, not what you are. you’re a human just like any other person here. and i think your mark is pretty cool, actually.”

choso couldn’t help but smile at your words. maybe—just maybe you had a point. maybe it was time for him to change his ways. get out of his comfort zone a little.

“um…yeah, thanks. i’ll think about it. goodnight.”

“goodnight, choso.”

“and this one would be called ‘the blood painter’.” the announcer spoke as the crowd followed around. it was perfect. better than anything else being displayed. choso stood in front of the painted canvas, staring at his own face looking down at his own partially painted portrait with a crimson liquid dripping from his nose and onto the canvas. there was a white cup filled with tea, which had been leaking from the sides as if it were overfilled.

his hair flopped down into his face before lifting a hand to brush it back with his fingers. he was awestruck. how could you have painted something like this with almost no experience. he could’ve sworn you said you were horrible at this kind of thing…maybe his memory was faulty.

“it’s perfect….” you hear him mumble as he stepped closer to the portrait. he was so tempted to touch it but he abided by the rules of not touching or taking any photos of the paintings being displayed. “how did you do this? you couldn’t have—no, you did…but this is so different from your drawing.”

“it was only a sketch. a way to get your features and everything properly. but a few days ago when we hung out, i thought i’d make something more expressive.” you grinned.

“i’m impressed.” choso’s eyes sparkled. “it’s like you captured my soul onto the canvas. i mean, i’ve seen art that expresses the soul of another person but this one is—wow.”

the male looked at you and his cheeks flushed a little. “maybe i got a little too excited. you did a nice job on your painting. hopefully you got a passing grade on it.”

you smiled at choso’s excitement and love for the art you made of him. you both knew it was simply for an assignment that would be graded then tucked away forever or thrown into a nearby dumpster but this was a sentimental thing. it was like a piece that needed to be preserved.

as you both stood in the middle of the large crowds, you two could hear people praising the painting for its raw emotion and style. one patron mentioned that it gave off a bit of a edgy feeling despite the cozy looking background.

choso was a bit surprised and delighted by the positive reactions, he felt a sense of pride in his portrait and the artist that created it—you. he turned to you with a smile on his face.

“i never thought my own portrait would have an impact like this.” choso said shifting his weight onto one leg. “see, now i kinda regret not letting you reveal my name.”

“you’re okay. it’ll make you a mystery man like the mona lisa…well she’s a real person but you get it, don’t you?” you chuckle lightly and choso does just that right along with you.

“i get it. but i’ll never be as known as she is. i’ll only be a mystery man that’s occasionally seen in shibuya.” he said. you threw your arm over choso’s shoulder and waved your hand dismissively.

“sure you will. one thing will lead to another. when you start seriously pursuing art and get your name out there, people will realize that you’re this man in the picture.” you pointed to the portrait, lightly tapping your nail against it as it created a hollow sound. you knew that you weren’t supposed to touch anything but you didn’t seem to care that much. you even went out your way to take a quick picture of it—it was surprisingly clear.

“they’ll call you signore kamo.” you added.

“you know italian?” choso raised a brow, a bit surprised by your pronunciation and how casually you said that word.

“nope, i googled it.” you smile innocently. choso released a breath as if he had been holding it for a while and returned a soft smile to you.

the art show ends and you and choso found yourselves walking close by each other on the sidewalk. the streetlights and neon lights from buildings illuminating your way as you walked back to the university. choso saw that you were on the left of him, closer to the street so he stoped to trade places with you.

“what was that for?” you ask as you put your hands down into your pocket. you had a feeling on exactly why choso did what he did but you just wanted to hear it from his mouth.

“well, just in case something happens, i’ll be hit first and you won’t have to worry about getting hurt.” choso stated, glancing at the street littered with parked cars. your instincts seemed to be correct but your lips involuntarily stretched into a smile anyway and you felt your face heat up a bit.

upon arriving back to the dorms, the two of you stood in the commons, your shadows stretching long in the dim light. since quiet hours were approaching, it was about time the two of you part ways once again until tomorrow. you turn to face each other, a mixture of contentment and longing in your eyes.

“i guess this is where we call it a day. thank you again for everything.” choso says and you nod.

“of course.” you beamed. “i had a really nice time with you today. and don’t forget that you don’t have to hide who you are around me. your true self is beautiful.”

“i’ll remember it.” choso replied before being caught off guard by your sudden hug. you flung your body into him and squeezed his sides a bit. his violet eyes widened as he contemplated on leaving you to cling onto him or hug you back. no one besides his brothers had ever given him a hug.

slowly and awkwardly his arms snaked around your body, finally returning a hug back to you. you both lingered there for a moment, holding on to each other before breaking away.

“hey, dinner on friday?” you ask.

“it’s a date.” choso replied, only making your smile grow. you both say your goodbyes and wave to each other before walking off in the opposite direction to head off to your rooms for the night.

but then another guy came along.

“hey, you got a second?” kashimo whispered. choso never interacted with the guy much but they’ve spoken enough to know how one another looked and each other’s names. sighing, choso obliged.

“i noticed the way you talked to that girl over there just a few seconds ago. you seriously scored.” the cyan haired male smirked at choso. “obviously, there’s something special between you two. maybe i could offer you some advice on that front?”

choso’s eyes narrowed, and as usual, his defensive walls go back up. he was never really comfortable with talking about his personal life, especially with someone he didn’t know all that well.

“i don’t need help with my love life, kashimo. i’m handling it perfectly fine.” choso crossed his arms. kashimo would put his hands up in a placating gesture.

“no pressure. i’m just saying that sometimes it’s easier to open up to someone who isn’t directly involved, you know? sit with me at lunch tomorrow. we can discuss this later.” the other lightly punches choso’s shoulder before heading out of the entrance doors.

“he’s weird.” choso muttered.

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

#𝐾𝑂𝑇𝐴 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑆 書く #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk x reader #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso x black!reader #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #art #hajime kashimo #jjk kashimo

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sweetracha · 10 months

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Kinky Sprinkles #2: Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin was always known for his artistic abilities. It seemed like every week he found a new outlet for his creative genius. Of course, he had his tried and true methods like dance and painting. However sometimes, when he was in a creative rut, he needed to explore more unusual mediums.

When he walked in with a paper bag from the craft store and a bright smile on his face, you knew he had found his new hobby of the week. Hyunjin sat at the edge of your shared mattress. It was clear to you that he had a question on his mind.

"I see you found something new to try. Can I see?" You sit up, trying to peer into the bag but were quickly denied.

"I did, but I need your help with it"

"Jinnie, I'm not an artist like you are. Why would you need my h--"

"I need you to be my model. It'll make more sense if you just meet me in the studio. I suggest wearing your robe...and only your robe." With a lingering sensual kiss to your lips, he disappeared.

After touching up your appearance and wearing the suggested attire, you made your way to his studio. You weren't sure what you were going to find, but having all of his equipment shoved to the walls and a singular tarp on the floor wasn't what you pictured.

"Oh, you're here! I just finished setting up. " Hyunjin slowly walked over to you. His hair was up in his signature pony tail, and he wore his painters shirt, which was an old white button-up stained in paint. "Let me help you with that." Hyunjin slender hands began to strip you from the robe.

"What exactly are we doing?"

"You, my muse, you are the canvas tonight." Hyunjin began to pull out his new paints. "Please go lie down, my love"

Hours had passed now. Your body was covered in blue and green hues. Clouds of white and pink covered your bare chest while wildflowers littered your bottom half. You weren't sure what he painted on your back, but the way he massaged your skin beforehand was intoxicating. How you didn't cum from his fine-haired bristles on your nipples shocked you. You just hope he didn't notice how your wetness was making the paint on your thighs bleed.

"And....I think...wait a second" one last flick of the brush near your clit. "And we are done! Let me help you up, my masterpiece. Couldn't mess it all up now." He outstretched his hand like a prince. You gladly accepted.

Hyunjin walked you to the mirror where you stood in awe. You really did look like a work of art. Hyunjin began twisting and turning you in the reflection so you could see everything. Your back was the same scene as before but shrouded in night. Golden yellow stars span across your shoulder blades. While you were admiring the work, it seemed Hyunjin was admiring something else.

His hands that were used to paint you began to gently caress your sides as if they were their own paintbrush. His head found its way into the crook of your neck. He slotted himself perfectly behind you and held your gaze in the mirror. Sensual silence filled the studio. Soft kisses were being left on your skin. Cascading down your back.

"Hyun, you'll mess it up" you whined.

"Y/n let the artist decide, I think it looks better this way." Hyunjin ended up in front of you now and began kissing his way down your body again. He made sure to spend extra time kissing the clouds. When he made his way to the poppies and daisies, he kneeled. Big blown-out eyes stared up at you. Hyunjin's face was covered in the paint he washed off of you. If he wasn't bracing you with hands on your thighs, you would have collapsed.

"The best part, baby?" A single kiss was left on your clit and a soft whimper left your lips. "It's edible"

#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut

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artchimes · 2 years

Link

Usually when we have a requirement for an artist or an art agency we look for places nearby on web. We can also look for results about graffiti painters near me or wall mural painters near me as they are also for same requirement and work.

#Graffiti Painters near me #Wall Art Painters near me #Wall Mural Painters near me

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brandchimes · 3 months

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Wall Painting Artists

Brand Chimes handpicks passionate artists who don’t just paint, they weave magic. Whether you crave a whimsical nursery mural, a sophisticated statement wall, or an inspiring workspace transformation, our artists translate your vision into breathtaking reality.

#3D Wall Painter near me #Wall Art Painting #Wall Painters in Delhi #Wall Painting #Wall Painting Artist near me #Wall Painting in Delhi NCR

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kararisa · 11 months

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brushstrokes

— you’re beautiful and i’m insane

— painter!kaveh x sculptor!reader; art school au

— author’s notes: kaveh’s release grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall and i’ve been enamored by this damn architect ever since. quote is from Venice Bitch by Lana Del Ray

Kaveh has always been a creative person, possessing the ability to take the whispers of an idea and turn them into tangible masterpieces of ink and color

Each line and brushstroke on the canvas were stories of all the love, joy, and pain that Kaveh has ever experienced

A desk of organized chaos is what someone is usually greeted with if they were to ever set foot in his dorm

Picture a set of markers and pencils lying splayed across his desk while he works on his next assignment. Or a stack of sketchbooks also sat in the corner of his room, both finished and unfinished (or “cursed”, as he so lovingly calls those with only a handful of sketches on the first page)

But creative drive can’t last forever – Kaveh’s brushstrokes, once guided by inspiration, now dance hesitantly upon the blank canvas in front of him

He stares at the white blankness, and he swears it stares back at him

“Find something that inspires you”, “Find beauty in the mundane”. People spewed all the same bullshit but none of it helped. and it didn’t exactly help that he’s constantly under the pressure of deadlines

Once, all he needed were his ideas. and now not even those are enough

And that’s when he met you

In one of the college library’s many hidden corners, the two of you just so happened to reach for the same book at the same time

Your hand brushed against his. And Kaveh’s eyes met yours

“I kinda need that for an assignment,” you whispered to the blonde. In response, Kaveh takes the book and gives it to you

“Here. Just as long as you hand it over to me when you’re done,” Kaveh smiles

The two of you begin to chat more while checking out your books: current projects (he learns you’ve been working on improving your sculpting, and Kaveh shares he’s working on improving his composition), favorite food in the cafeteria (Kaveh tells you that he’s quite fond of soups), and the like

He began to bump into you more often, and not just in the library. You see each other in the hallway in between classes, sometimes the quad, maybe in the dorms if he’s lucky. Heck, he even saw you taking a swig of alcohol with your friends in the hidden storage room where he and his friends would drink on cooler nights

But you truly began to get to know each other when he walked in on you working on another one of your sculptures in one of the empty art studios usually reserved for lectures and live figure drawing classes

You sit near him and the two of you make easy conversation.

As the hours passed by, and the sky’s blue hues turned orange, the topic of the conversation steered to why the two of you decided to pursue art in the first place

And Kaveh couldn’t quite explain it, but ever since that day, his creative drive seemed to return to him in earnest. It’s slow-going, but at least now he can pick up a pencil or a brush without losing his ideas

Maybe it’s because he’s found a new source of inspiration

Or maybe it’s just because he likes your company

#kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #kaveh fluff #genshin fluff #genshin modern au #genshin college au #genshin imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic

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signsandartwork · 2 months

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How to Write on a Chalkboard Using 4 Easy Chalk Options

🌟 Master the art of chalkboard writing with these 4 easy chalk options! 🖌️ Whether you're crafting chalkboard signs and artwork, designing a chalkboard menu for your restaurant, or sprucing up a pub chalkboard, these tips will elevate your skills as a chalkboard sign writer. 🎨

Traditional Chalk: The classic choice for chalkboard writing. It's affordable, readily available, and gives you that nostalgic chalkboard feel. Opt for high-quality chalk to minimize dust and ensure smooth writing. Remember to sharpen it for precise lines and invest in a good eraser for clean corrections.

Chalk Markers: Perfect for vibrant and bold designs on chalkboards. Chalk markers come in various colors and tip sizes, allowing you to create intricate artwork and eye-catching lettering. They're also easy to erase with a damp cloth, giving you flexibility to correct mistakes and update your chalkboard creations effortlessly.

Chalk Pens: Similar to chalk markers but with a finer tip, chalk pens are ideal for intricate details and delicate lettering. They offer precise control over your writing, making them a favorite among professional chalkboard artists. Plus, they're smudge-resistant once dry, ensuring your designs stay pristine for longer periods.

Liquid Chalk: Want the look of chalk without the mess? Liquid chalk is your solution. It goes on smoothly like a marker but dries to resemble traditional chalk. Use it for smooth and consistent lines, especially when working on larger chalkboard surfaces. And just like chalk markers, it's easy to wipe off with a damp cloth when you're ready for a new design.

Whether you're decorating your home with chalkboard signs and artwork or creating professional-grade menu boards for your restaurant or pub, these chalk options will help you achieve stunning results. Experiment with different techniques, combine chalk types for unique effects, and let your creativity flow! 🌈✨ #ChalkboardArt #SignsAndArtwork #ChalkboardMenu #PubChalkboard #ChalkboardSignWriter

#sign writers london #chalkboard writing #traditional signwriters near me #chalk board menu art #hand painted sign #sign writing #chalkboard sign writer #mural painter london #traditional sign writer #wall mural painting in uk

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chargoeson · 7 months

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My First Writeblr- An Introduction

I’ve used tumblr on and off for over ten years but wanted a blank slate now in time for NaNoWriMo 2023 and all the future writing projects I’m devoting myself to. Also highly inspired by all the cool writing blogs I’ve discovered so far since restarting this account <3

About Me:

My name is Char or Charlotte (she/her), I’m 24 and live in the Pacific Northwest in the US

I write literary fiction now, but have kept up various personal essay projects and poetry over the years primarily through my private newsletter!

I have a Bachelor’s degree in English Language and Lit with a soft spot for the Gothic and Romantic eras.

Nothing published yet, but since I am finally out of school I am entering a new phase of creative freedom that feels very encouraging.

Fun extras: I’m a virgo sun, pisces moon (yes, it does hurt), my cat’s name is Brad, I am also a fiber artist, musician, home renovator, perfume enthusiast, and chronic illness advocate.

My WIPs:

Project Amgydala (tentative title: Ballad of a Blue Whale) Novella- Literary Fiction/Surrealism Status- Draft 1 complete at around 33,000 words 2024 Goal- First revision/draft 2 Synopsis- Maren Hara, a recent graduate, moves back in with her father and turns completely inward. She removes herself from the life she created throughout university and begins walking from sunset to sunrise, looking for something she cannot put her finger on. This leads her to Devereaux's Salvation, a jazz bar seemingly from another era, whose eager manager and illusive owner begin to crack through Maren's walls and bring her back into humanity.

Project Corvidae (tentative title: I Want to Build a Home with You) Undetermined- Literary Fiction/Light Mystery/Horror Status- Plotting and beginning first draft 2024 Goal- Complete outlines and give draft 1 my best shot Synopsis- In the wake of the death of her family matriarch, portrait painter and former performance art prodigy Leonie Richards finds herself on the receiving end of her grandmothers vast literary legacy and her eclectic, spirit filled home. Alongside her uncle, the art store clerk, and a host of portrait clients she begins to unlock the secrets of the final years of her grandmother's life.

Mind Over Matter- this is actually backstory for Leonie from Project Corvidae and seeks to shed light on her past performance art pieces and the relationship between her and her grandmother. Light body horror, unsettling women, the works. One of These Nights- a slice of life, Murakami-inspired piece of an American expat living in Tokyo trying to ground herself within a new language. Digs into themes of friendship and social anxiety. Lots of fun music cameos. a green pea moon- my FAVORITE. My little baby. A surrealist romp through the dream world and how it relates to the joy and fear of being queer and letting yourself be loved. Near and dear to my heart.

taglist: @annlillyjose @coffeeandcalligraphy @subtlefires @belovedviolence @onomatopiya

#writer #nanowrimo #author #writerblr #creative writing #novel writing #nano 2023 #lit fic #writers on tumblr

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lonelysucker7 · 6 months

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Strangers on a Train

⚠️ Chapter 2 ⚠️

Pairing: Kaine Parker x gn!Reader

Summary: You’re just an average person making their daily living, surviving adulthood as it is. You live in Houston, Texas where even the hero the Scarlet Spider lives. And then there’s a guy, who looks like he’s gone through hell, on a train you’re crushing on.

Word count: 3.9 k

Warnings: mentions of violence (but very brief), criticism towards art, parental issues (also brief), profanity once again!!

Not proofread!! But enjoy!!! ☺️

⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴

The doors didn’t open until 11.

It was a Wednesday, and lucky for you it was a promised short day. Your work didn’t require much as a tour guide. Walk, talk, and answer questions for the art enthusiasts or students from schools that booked their tickets for days like these. And people talked. Often, even with your short time, this went on for hours without a stop.

Every art was displayed for the eye with the likes of van Gogh and Matisse, but obviously van Gogh was for the win. You’ve lost count how much you explained the importance of his life work so you didn’t really need to rehearse any mental notes and directions you were going to use. With much ease, you walked through the halls of the museum, pointing and gesturing with your hands around his paintings, remarking about the paint strokes delicately put into the work and adding backstory to them.

Occasionally there were the usual interruptions with “experts” who bragged about their knowledge regarding the tragic painter. Patiently you kept hearing them go on and on, until letting them finish when they took the hint from the crowd they wanted to move on. You didn’t bat an eye, thanking them for their contribution but silently remarking in sarcasm

“Well fuck, have my job and live my life!”

As you passed by van Gogh's Self-Portrait, you heard the crowd behind you murmuring amongst themselves in admiration. You stopped with them in front of a dark room with the exception of the interior displaying hanging LED lights, falling down from the ceiling in the style of vines colored in violets and pinks. The background offered the effect of neon lights sprawling across the walls in a manner of adding that mystic effect. It was a small forest of wonder after all.

“This is ‘Pipilotti Rist’s: Pixel Forest and Worry Will Vanish’. The artist hailing from Switzerland is always testing art in technology, intending them to be very engaging with her themes of naturalism and wonder. Composed with LED lights in the form of hanging vines and a new art form expressing human regeneration as visual imagery. There are even couches in there to relax in and dream alongside the projections shown on the walls. Maybe losing yourselves in a fantasy wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I recommend it,” you suggested with a slight smile. You stood near the doorway, scooting aside to let others take a small peak at the show.

Behind you, you hear a soft snort coming from behind the walls. Looking over your shoulder, you immediately frown with a roll of your eyes as you notice the familiar someone. Your co-worker/ friend, Bethany grinned to herself as she mimicked your speech, mouthing the words while puppeting it on her hand. Holding the urge not to call her out in the middle of the crowd, you made a small quick clap and urged your crowd to continue with you to finish the tour.

“Tickets will be available once the date is posted on the website. There will be rules regarding the exhibition so make sure to look over those if you intend on bringing children or other!”

………………………………………………………………………….

“You had me in the first half, I won’t lie. I mean, I thought your whimsy quips didn't manage to weave itself in your talk like it does out of nowhere. Because if it didn’t, I wouldn't believe you’d talk that professional.”

“Mmm, well, when you spend so much time talking about works on illusions and dreams coming to a reality, I guess you get sucked in it too. Just happens.”

The first group of touring was done for the first hour and a half, and now you found yourself having a scrutinizing conversation with Bethany about your style of work. You both were in the average noise breakroom, taking your lunch break while still keeping the time.

Getting the job was hard but you managed that getting yourself out there to effectively communicate with people required you to get yourself out of your comfort zone first.

Easy said, easy done.

One sacrifice to offer to the devil of the work was all you needed. Pretty soon your boss became impressed with your way of words, even when it seemed you lacked effort in them at first.

When you told your parents about your job, you expected them to be a little less than happy about it. That expectation was quickly dismissed as they were thrilled you had finally achieved a job (even more when they heard insurance was graciously offered to you.) Your dad joked with you about sending money their way, but you’d always cut it off with the excuse of your break coming to an end. Same case with your mom, though it was more about your college degree even being used at all.

“So what was all that money for?”

You didn’t know how to respond without becoming upset.

And you met Bethany, the security guard, meandering in the locker room. A rough start as she searched through your duffle bag for a pack of cigarettes, and to her disappointment, you didn’t have any. But you offered her gum instead and she took it without hesitation. And throughout the months that came, you got to know her better and became friends. She was in her late 30’s, single, not so much of a hopeless romantic instead preferring to stay on the side of logic and reason.

A bit “evil” you wanted to say, maybe a little too noisy but nevertheless you tolerated her presence and grew to appreciate her. Not once did she leave you out of any hot topic that roamed in the museum or her life, so you felt somewhat special being let in her inner circle.

“Ever watched that old Spanish film called ‘Open Your Eyes?’ You asked Bethany with an expectant stare from across the room. A perplexed expression crossed her features as she pulled out her casserole lunch from the microwave and made her way back to your table. She saw your sad looking ham sandwich in your hands and said

“No, why?” She tilted the veggie casserole towards you to offer in the stead of your meal and you kindly refused. You responded casually

“Because the exhibition that I talked about kinda reminds me of that movie. A dreamlike fantasy you end up losing yourself in because your reality sucks. That movie is all about that.”

Your friend made a small tsk and wagged her finger as she picked on her casserole.

“Don’t think it was the artist's literal intention to have you forget reality. Much less your worries actually vanish. All that is just for show.” Bethany mused as she picked her food, pushing away a piece of broccoli on the side of her plate. You frowned, staring at your ham sandwich with little interest. You replied assertively.

“Yeah but it's in the name. How can it not be?”

“I don’t know, I ain’t an expert in that okay? Answer it yourself.”

“Okay, fine.” A silence lingered over you both, until Bethany asked between mid-chew

“Why exactly did you ask?”

You mulled over the question of why. Maybe it was those people from the tour who interrupted so much. Maybe it was looking back on your old home life. Or the memories of what happened in the morning which flooded through your mind and you got goosebumps because of it. Suddenly you felt embarrassed to even tell. You wanted to hide under a rock from your reality. You confessed with a grim reply

“Cause I’m always wondering if my reality is a dream or my hell right now. Van Gogh was in a limbo, so where am I?”

Bethany being Bethany; cringed at the statement, making a disgusted face as she settled her fork down.

“Okay, okay enough with the philosophy and comparing yourself with dead artists. Look, I'll pinch you if you want to see if you're here with me, weirdo.”

At that you laughed breezily a bit and shook your head, responding smoothly

“No thanks, I’m good as it is. Anyways, I want to finish my lunch before I start touring again. That last group sure had its professionals. I was starting to wonder if I needed to call our boss and quit right on the spot just so they could do the job for me.” You took a bite of your sandwich with a slight grumble and chewed on it with a sigh. Bethany side glanced at you from her food and shrugged.

“Oh come on, you know Boss-man would cry if you left. You’re one of our best. You’re just overthinking it. Like you usually do with that guy on the train. Speaking of which….” Bethany leaned closer to you, you leaning back as a response from the grinchy like smile growing on her face as she rubbed her hands together.

“...You saw him again, didn’t ya?”

You stopped chewing midway of your food. No doubt you did tell her about the stranger. Fifty fifty you regret coming down to this, but she was your friend and you were dying to tell someone. In fact she was the only one you’ve told.

Bethany had remained invested in this topic for as long as you can remember, especially since you maintained your personal life private from many around you. Bethany knew some things. But glimpses of your romantic (if you wanted to coin it like that) life was like striking gold for dear Bethany.

Your eyes glanced away from her creepy smile and your mouth scrunched to the side as you mumbled

“Yes. And?”

Suddenly, she slams her palms on the table that shook with a rattle, causing you and others in the breakroom to jump. Looking back at her you almost yell with a slight strained voice, pieces of your sandwich falling abruptly on your lap.

“Was that necessary?!”

Bethany ignored you, and continued, “Did you finally ask if he was single?!”

You rolled your eyes as you shook your head, incling down at the floor from your seat as you picked up your mess from the floor.

“Of course I didn’t! You know I wouldn’t even think of asking him that. Would you have done the same?” You argued with your voice wavering a bit from the intensity, even breathing a little slowly to calm your nerves. Wrong question, you knew your answer already. Bethany crossed her arms and haughtily replied.

“Yeah, I would’ve done it if I was really that interested. Are you not? How long are ya gonna keep stalling yourself my dear co-worker? Can’t stand the idea of being rejected?”

Your brain couldn’t even process all that, leaving you gripping your thighs anxiously and your mouth gaping without a single word being uttered out. Once the calmness settled, you managed to hush out

“I’m trying… of sorts. Yeah, I’m scared shitless if I get rejected, who wouldn't? And good god Bethany, I already told you he doesn’t seem to be the type you straight up ask on those things…”

Bethany huffed a laugh, and shook her head as if she wasn’t taking that as an answer.

“Yeah but, how long have we been talking about this guy? It’s the same shit! ‘Oh I wanna talk with him this’ and ‘I wanna talk with him that—’ Please just do it, you’re killing meeeee…” Bethany whined, grabbing your shoulders from behind and shook you.

You flick your fingers on the hands on your shoulders and manage to get them off of you. As Bethany peers close to your face, you look back at her as a dark look crosses your eyes.

It finally came to your mind that you were still on your break and the whole staff room was staring at your commotion from the corner of the room. The sound of the water dripping from the sink could be heard in the background.

Pushing your chair back, you stood to let the blood flow through your legs again and moved to toss the pieces of sandwich near the garbage disposal. As you sat back down with a melancholic feeling, you mumbled,

“Everything at its time. Don’t rush me, okay?”

You buried your face in your hands continuing to mumble incoherent complaints in them. Bethany surrendered her hands in the air as she slumped in her seat and started to absentmindedly pick her casserole again.

“You're too respectful. You shouldn’t.”

You snapped your head up, glaring slightly.

“We’re strangers. I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. Some random creep asking if you're single out of nowhere? That raises so many red flags if you hadn't noticed. You know what… think I might need that pinch now.”

Bethany reached to pat your back with mild consolation, still with that smug smile and a borderline joy of taking in your pain. Now you just felt tired and yearned to go home. Sadly it was only 2 in the afternoon so you’d need to wait 3 more hours. You then hear Bethany say in a tranquilizing tone

“Take it easy. Listen I know you’re a dreamer, and you keep dreaming okay? I don’t want to burst your bubble. But while that train keeps on moving and he keeps riding it, you should shoot your shot. Never know if he’s gonna be gone the next day. Uncanny events always force someone to move out of here.”

Hearing her make that statement, raises a the hairs in the back of your head. Maybe a part of you refused to accept that fact, but you knew it was the truth. It was either take it or leave it. How long you’ve spent pondering on the thought of talking to him… oh a very long time, that you already made yourself clear on the train. You clenched your jaw, gulping quietly as you spoke with hesitancy.

“I’ll try… but I’m sure things will end up falling short of my expectations.”

“No no, I’m certain you’re gonna do fine. You have a way with words. Your personality is pretty good. And you are…” Bethany leaned back to take your form from head to toe and back over again with an easy smile “...You’re pretty hot enough to catch someone's eye. Although I’m not saying looks are everything. Say, if he saw you today, did he make any sign that he looked even the slightest interested in you?”

You scratched your cheek for a minute or two in thought, then you finally shake your head and simply responded

“No.”

“No?” Bethany repeated bluntly. You shook your head again. You made a slight tilt as you added,

“Although we did hold a stare for about 15 seconds. Does that count?”

“Hmm, it's something. What else did he do?”

“Er, well he did this funny thing with his lip. It went back a bit. Like…like he tried to…” Bethany watched you intently as you reenacted the funny lip jump. She only thinned her lips as a teasing smile started to form, until she burst, pointing a finger at you gushing.

“Oh my god, did he try to smile at you?!” Bethany's smile must have reached its limit as it was already way too wide and way too disturbing to hold eye contact. You chuckled nervously with a half-shrug.

“I guess…? It would be a first actually.” An attempted smile from him… it made your chest feel fuzzy from that thought. Still though it could’ve meant anything. Bethany giggles, wrapping an arm around you and bringing you close to her. You winced a little, smelling the breath of onion from her casserole as she whispered.

“Just go talk to him. You know you’re brave. Wake up and make it a reality. Got one life, so don’t waste it.” She gave you a small shake in her arm, before the weight was lifted off of you. You fixed the collar of your uniform and looked at the time again. Your break was over. Her words of encouragement suddenly pushed you to actually want to do it.

Like previous times of course.

“I suppose so huh? Tomorrow we’ll see then. Thanks Bethany.”

She gave you a small thumbs up as you both stood up from your seats. Both of you then stepped outside of the breakroom, departing with a side hug and left to finish the day. You waved at your crowd from the end of the hallway on your left and approached them with a professional welcoming smile.

Maybe I should do it tomorrow. Nothing can go wrong from here… right?

…………………………………..……………………………………

Now your day is over. And your pained feet were dying to get home.

But as expected you were held back for a couple reasons. First was to finish answering some questions from the guests, and then your boss whose news reached to his ears about you and Bethany “fighting” in the breakroom. To which you denied sincerely without trying to smile. You two could never.

In consequence, those actions from both parties have left you to forget the sun set earlier in the month of July. Crap.

5:45 P.M, and you also missed your train. You sent Bethany a text asking for a ride, but you deleted the message as you recalled her mentioning in the morning about a dentist appointment after her break. Meaning you were going to need to walk home.

Fuck.

Adjusting your duffel bag on your shoulder, you climbed down the stairs while keeping a taser you borrowed from Bethany close by in your pocket. You quickly took a left from the station and started jogging slightly as you wanted to avoid any possible encounter with people. Not at this hour, no siree.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve done this. But not regularly either.

The approximation from your work to your apartment was about 30-45 minutes depending how fast you got there on foot, but you knew you weren’t gonna get there anytime soon. The uncomfortable feeling of being watched as you jogged without a stop for breath became awkward as hell.

You passed by the town shops that still had their lights on, staying close by them as you needed to see the cemented path ahead of you. For a summer night the air felt a mix of cool air and warm heat, making you start sweating anyway. Man you felt that adrenaline and motivation push your limits already.

The night sky wasn’t all dark as it was being illuminated by a full moon and the stars sparkled brightly. You huffed a breath as you turned a dark corner.

Only a couple more blocks, I can do this.

You began to feel a little dizzy from your excessive jogging and weariness of your feet starting to catch up with you that you immediately slowed down. A sharp pain from the side of your ribs irked you to recoil and grab on to the wall to lean on. Ragged breathing started to fill your ears as you took a breather and your eyes scanned your surroundings.

You had entered an alleyway with no exit. Dark and murky.

A sudden crash from a nearby garbage dump from the exit of the alleyway, caused you to stagger back with alert. Your hand fumbled in your pocket as you pulled out your taser and kept it to your side as you looked over your shoulder, just to make sure nothing from the darkness or exit came out.

You were so wrong.

From the pit of your chest you felt your heart drop to your stomach as you saw something moving towards the entrance of the alleyway. Dark shadows plastered on the wall from the light reflected off the moon and a growling noise seemed to rumble out. It resembled that of the creature and you almost had a feeling what it was. It started to become closer and closer.

You bite your tongue trying not to make a noise, stepping back into the shadows but without realizing it; your heel accidentally stepped on a piece of glass breaking it loudly.

Shit—-

You let out a scream as the creature rages in the alley about to grab you with their sharp claws.

I’M DEAD, I’M SO DEAD—-!

Your panicked thoughts were cut off aggressively as you were pulled upwards by something that grabbed your back shirt. You felt it snap off of you as your body was being rag dolled around by something keeping you close.

And very tightly; your back was being dug with their immense grip on you. More growls and yells were heard by your ear and your eyes couldn’t focus on it. Everything was a blur of colors red, black—-

Red and black? Hold up—-

Instinctively you wrapped your arms around the neck of this something you realized… it was none other than the Scarlet Spider himself.

You stared in awe at his red lenses, seeing your own face back at them. And oh man… his breathing sounded hotter up close. Of all places you finally met the hero. Yet that didn’t stop you from feeling scared as the webbed hero was swinging swiftly in the air with the web in one hand from a great height. The feeling was just like when you were a kid, being pushed on the swing and feeling the air pressure wacking your face. So you gradually held on tightly.

Yeah—you wanted to throw up right then in there.

Below you a grassy patch of land was coming into view. A playground from the nearby school you knew close to your home. With a loud thump you both landed on the ground safely, the noises of growls faded away in the distance.

“Hey… you can let go now,” You heard a low rough voice speak from the mask. You didn’t realize you closed your eyes and you opened them, raising your head away from his shoulder. Dumbly, you shakily let go of the hero and a soft thud from the padding of your feet was audibly heard as it touched the grass.

As your arms slid from his shoulders, you only noticed that the hero was just leaning down for you when he suddenly straightened up from his inclined posture.

He was much…taller.

“Are you okay?” He asked with a gruff tone. A soft gruff tone if you heard carefully.

You shook your head just to quickly revert it to a nod as you silently answered his question. He answered it with a nod of his own as he craned his neck to look at you up and down for potential injuries.

“Good. Don’t be wandering out at night—it’s dangerous you hear? See what almost happened to you back there? Almost became a snack.”

If you had enough energy you would have laughed at the warning. You didn’t answer, just stared. An impatient snap to your face woke you from your trance.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“U-uh, y-yeah… t-thanks…” You stuttered softly.

A beat.

The hero stared at you in silence and for a moment it felt like he wanted to say something. From the looks of his hands on his sides flexing their fingers, he seemed to hesitate doing something. He didn’t do anything. Finally, he said in a rather plain tone,

“Go home now. Take a pill for the nerves and a day off. You’re shaken up, I can tell.”

“U-uh h-huh…” you managed, as the jelly legs found themselves on your legs when you turned around to walk. You were numbly questioning the creature that almost killed you and the urge to ask him came to you. You wanted to say something else to him as you turned around to face him once again—-but he was gone.

Damn. You wanted him to stay a little longer.

Home it is then. You pulled your duffel bag—-correction, nothing.

You scan all over your body for anything and you let out a frustrated groan as you realize your duffel bag was lost back at that alley. Worst of all, you didn’t even know which one.

Well… at least you had a spare key under your mat.

⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴

11/27/23

Hello there!!

So yes I was working on this really really hard. And you have a friend yay! Maybe you’ll expect another chapter in two weeks (I know, I’m bummed out too.)

Alright so… here’s the thing.

I was drafting where this story will head and here’s what I have in mind: Kaine technically left Houston right? Because of… stuff. But what if… what if he came back?

I have hopes for that. So this fic is where that intends to go. Where Kaine technically comes back to Houston. He has his friends back (minus one if you have an idea who), and he’s basically trying to start all over again. That’s all I can say for now.

And yes of course he still has The Other (not all fanfiction is canon remember!)

This journey is likely gonna be long folks. With super long paragraphs. And a hella amount of plot.

So… enjoy every moment and thank you for your support. You guys keep me going 🤗

—LonelySucker7

Next: Chapter 3

Previously: Chapter 1

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