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preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

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Hearts Painted on Skin

Written for @damianwayneweek's Day 4. I selected Soulmates for this. I've never written a soulmate AU before, so this was fun to explore. Thanks @audreycritter for the idea! She flooded me with ideas for this week and I am so thankful for them all.

Characters: Damian and Dick

Summary: Damian has a mark just under his collarbone in the shape of a feather. Mother has always told him it was a scar. He was mostly okay with that until he came to Gotham and saw more marks. Marks that could not possibly be scars. He is starting to wonder if she lied, and why.

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Damian looked in the mirror, his shirt in his hands, prepared to pull on. For what felt like the thousandth time, he paused to look at the little mark on his skin. It was a feather, unmistakably. Damian had held enough up to it for comparison, whenever he could get his hands on one.

“It is a scar.” Mother’s voice echoed in his head.

It was a statement she’d told him time and time again. Each moment he brought it up. Every moment he looked at a League member who had a darker patch on their cheek, or wrist. Whenever his eyes lingered on flowers and swirls and shapes painted on fingers, arms, feet, and one time an eyelid. She would lean down, her voice soft, promising, full of truth, hard as law, and whisper those four words. It. Is. A. Scar.

“But others have similar.” Damian had asked once.

“Of course they do, they are fighters as well.” she had told him.

Damian believed her. Why would she lie? What reason had she to speak falsely about such a thing?

And yet.

He dropped half of the shirt to run his fingers over it, it was smooth as the skin underneath. It was skin, just of a darker color. A warm chocolate to his tan. It was not raised, not pinched. Nothing about it was creased or seemed to be anything but natural. As if it had always been there.

“But I do not remember getting it.” he had said again, in response to her once.

“You received it when you were young. A baby.”

He had furrowed his brow. Who would harm a baby? Even in the League? Especially Talia’s child? She’d never told him.

Damian tugged his shirt on, covering the spot with soft cotton and a bright pattern of animal silhouettes that somehow did not look childish. He ran his hand over the fabric, again pausing by the not-scar. His eyes flit to his dresser. In the drawer rested a bottle of concealer, matched to his skin tone exactly. It was empty now, used up and he had yet to replace it.

Normally, Damian would cover his not-scar with it. Careful layers blended to hide the fact that anything blemished his skin. It was a dangerous mark. Made when he was a baby, and carrying a weight on it that Mother insisted would draw catastrophe to him if it were seen.

He had complained about the concealer once, hating the time it took to apply and how it made his skin feel itchy sometimes.

Mother had run her fingers through his hair, gentle and loving, “I know, dear, but it is not safe to bring attention to. If others learned of it--you would be in danger.” She had even gone so far as to insist Damian not tell Grandfather.

It was a dangerous secret so terrifying the leader of the League of Assassins could not know. One Damian had to protect him from. At least, that was what Damian had thought then. Now, he wondered if Mother was protecting him from Grandfather.

He tugged on his shirt, testing the collar, even stretched it hid his mark with ease. No one would see it today. Perhaps his new concealer would arrive soon. Pennyworth had approved the order, as something useful to help them hide their identities better. Bruises from patrol were hard to explain, especially when Richard was under scrutiny for caring for him.

A knock immediately preceded, “Damian? You ready?”

Damian turned and nodded at Richard, “Yes, I believe I am.”

He looked over his brother, searching his skin for anything like Damian’s own mark, but beyond real scars, Richard was unblemished.

His brother, and guardian, smiled at him, “Great, let’s go! It’s a beautiful day and I promised you some ducks.”

Damian allowed a smile, “Yes you did.”

They spent the day at one of Gotham’s parks. Richard said they were doing recon to determine if Wayne Enterprise should fund a beautification project, but Damian was well aware his brother was using this as a day of relaxation. He was taking the day off work, and Damian had been excused from classwork for the outing.

He’d intended to take the recon seriously, by marking down elements both in favor of, and against selecting this park as the location for beautification funds. And for a little while Damian had. Then he’d flipped to a blank page in his notebook and started sketching the scene ahead of them.

Beside him, Richard lounged on their picnic blanket, reading what looked to be a romance book, and picking at grapes Pennyworth had packed for them. Normally, Damian would take the opportunity to berate him for laziness, but they had faced a number of difficult patrols over the past few nights and Damian was inclined to let him have his break.

Richard consistently drilled into him the importance of caring for one’s body all the time, mentally and physically. Damian knew this day would make Batman safer in the field, and also--he was kind of enjoying the quiet time. It was new to him, learning to relax and feel safe outside of the very few places he’d had at the League, but he could see the appeal to it. It did help keep him sharp, and he was always better rested after.

So he focused on on relaxing. He sketched for a while, drawing the pond first, and the trees around it. Then flipping the page to work on his figure drawing. As he drew, Damian’s eyes caught on marks. On birthmarks, and scars, and tattoos. Most importantly, his eyes locked onto various not-scars. Which is what they had to be.

He doodled them on another sheet. Drawing each unique one. Even those that were similar in style usually had little differences. A star might have one arm longer than the other, while one was perfect.

The only time he saw two of them match perfectly were on a couple pushing a stroller. The couple had little numbers on the back of their hands, one on their left, the other on the right. Damian pressed his lips together. They could have been tattoos, many people had them, but Damian couldn’t help but wonder.

He had been wondering since he’d arrived in Gotham months ago. People here all had marks. They had marks and they showed them off. Confused, Damian had messaged his mother to ask her. She’d said they were scars, tattoos, birthmarks that were meaningless. They were the marks of a different type of people than Damian had been raised around.

Distance had a way of stripping his mother’s voice of it’s old comforting truth.

But he had been busy learning. There was so much to learn in Gotham that had nothing to do with the mark on his body. Damian had spent more time frustrated about rules, and fearing he’d be sent back to a place that felt less and less like home every day. More and more time learning to be a good Robin to his Batman, and learning to trust Richard.

The question of his mark was rarely on Damian’s mind, and mostly relegated to moments he was alone or like this.

He glanced over at Richard. The man was still immersed in his book and Damian’s question died on his lips. He flipped his book to a new page and focused back on the pond, specifically the ducks swimming around on it. He had, after all, been promised some ducks.

That night they returned to patrol. Damian almost suggested they take a break, but they’d been working a drug trafficking case over the course of the week and were close to wrapping it up. If all went well during this patrol then they could rest. Damian would insist upon it if Richard did not.

They staked out an old appliance store. Richard figured the drugs were being shipped out either in the appliances or the crates. They just needed to intercept a shipment, incapacitate the team working on it, and confirm the drugs were there. Then they could call in Gordon and be done with all this.

Batman and Robin were crouched together. Richard had declared that they should stick close tonight. Damian wondered if it was because he knew they both were still feeling a little worn down. He could read it in Richard’s body language, and he knew his mentor could read the same in his.

After around twenty or so minutes, a truck pulled up to the building and the shipping door opened to allow it to back in. They watched for a moment, confirming no other trucks were on their way, and then both pulled back from the edge of the roof they’d been peering over.

Richard pointed to a large vent they could drop in on the store from. Damian nodded, and followed his mentor. The slipped into the vents, then moved like mice over to where the shipping area was located. Damian paused behind Richard as the man peered through an exhaust vent to watch the proceedings below.

“They’ve started unloading.” he whispered, then tapped something on his cowl and was silent for another long moment, “And they’re talking about the drugs.”

“So we go?” Damian asked.

“I’d say so.” Richard said, “Stick close tonight Robin, I’ve seen a couple guns swinging around and I don’t want to explain a bullet wound to Al tonight.”

“The same goes for you.” Damian responded.

“There’s twelve by my count, two of those are still in the car. Try to get to them first. I’ll grab the guys with the guns,” Richard directed.

“Affirmative.” Damian agreed. Taking out the ones that could remove the product, and the ones that were the most dangerous first was a good idea.

With that, Richard kicked out the vent, tossed a handful of gas pellets, and they dropped into the smoke.

Damian bolted through it for the truck. He was able to easily dodge the men and women in the room, now sent into a flurry of action and confusion over the smoke. He ducked around the driver’s seat of the truck and yanked the door open.

The man inside was shocked, and Damian was able to use that element of surprise to yank the man out of the front, sending him tumbling to the ground. A few quick blows had him unconscious.

Damian straightened, and turned back towards the truck cab. His eyes went wide, seeing the passenger leaning over both seats, a gun aimed out the door at him. Damian dodged to the side as the gun went off. Pain sliced through his arm as the bullet nicked him, but at least it hadn’t hit him in anything vital.

He swore, Richard had just told him not to get shot.

He snarled at the man, immediately returning fire with a batarang. It caught fingers, and the gun went tumbling to the floor of the cab. Damian then lurched forward, and dragged the passenger out of the car. Twisting his arm as he fell to drag it up behind his back.

In another movement, Damian grabbed the man’s other hand and yanked it behind his back, securing them both with a zip tie.

“Stay.” he growled into his ear, “Or you will regret it.”

He climbed up into the cab and jammed a pole under the steering wheel, locking it in place to keep it from moving if anyone tried to drive the truck.

With that, he turned back into the fray. At this point the smoke had begun to clear. Damian could see that Batman had knocked out a few men already, they were down to 8 enemies to fight. Richard’s warning to stay close was fresh in Damian’s mind, his throbbing arm a reminder that maybe his Batman had wanted him to not quite jump ahead like he had. But then again, Damian should have been able to handle two men in a truck.

He huffed, and fell into line beside Batman.

“Robin, you get the car under control?”

“It will not be going anywhere.” Damian confirmed.

“Good.” There was something tight in Richard’s voice Damian didn’t recognize, but there wasn’t time to explore the reason for that the other men and women were on them already.

Damian had to admit, he and Richard worked well as a team. They were efficient, and quick. Richard’s insistence on having them run drills and practice together before they’d ever gone out into the field had paid off early on, and since then they’d only built on that success.

They managed to take out the rest of the criminals quickly, and they prevented any of them from escaping. After that, Richard directed Damian to zip tie the unconscious thugs while he checked out the boxes of goods.

As Damian was finishing up with the last man, Richard called out, “Found them! I’m calling it in.”

“Good, I am finished here.”

They paired back up outside the building as Batman called the car to their location. Damian had his cape tugged over his arm in an attempt to hide the bleeding, but as they waited, a breeze caught him by surprise and tugged it up, and out of the way.

“Robin!” Batman said, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been injured?”

Damian tugged his cape back in place, scowling, “You told me not to get shot.”

Then his eyes caught on Richard’s left arm, it too was visible and bleeding. Damian pointed at him, accusing.

“You as well! How could you not tell me you’d been injured?”

Richard opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, “I-For the same reason as you. It happened right at the start.”

That must have been why Damian hadn’t heard it, they’d been shot at roughly the same time.

His brother shook his head, “Amazing, we both managed to do the one thing we didn’t want to. Alf’s going to have a field day with this one.”

When they returned to the bunker Alfred directed them both to a shared cot.

“Shirts off young masters, I’ll need to dress both of those wounds.”

Damian rolled his eyes and started tugging off his vest, then undershirt. It wasn’t until it was off that he remembered he still had not covered up his mark. Hopefully they would lump it in with the other scars across his chest.

It was not to be however. Next to him, Richard had stilled. He was staring at Damian’s chest. Damian could feel it, his eyes locked on the feather just under his collarbone.

He froze, his spine stiffening. He didn’t know what to say. His mother’s excuses felt like lies on his tongue and he knew he couldn’t give them to Richard. The man wouldn’t believe him for a moment.

Richard’s gaze was strangely soft. Not angry or upset or any of the things Damian had come to expect from what someone might do when they saw his not-scar. It made him want to squirm in his seat, but he was Damian al Ghul-Wayne. He did not squirm.

“Damian--” Richard’s voice was terribly soft, his eyes glittering, “I had no idea.”

Damian swallowed, there it was. The sadness that he had thought might come. It was dangerous. Seeing it put people in danger, and Richard had seen it, and Damian--Damian did not want him in any kind of danger.

He reached up to put his hand over the mark, and looked down, “I am sorry--I forgot. Had I remembered I hadn’t covered it I would not have--I would have dressed my arm on my own.”

“Do you not want me to see it?” Richard sounded hurt.

Damian looked back up at him, surprised. Richard sounded like he did when Damian was particularly cruel. He tried not to be that way sometimes, but--well pain or frustration drove him to saying things he regretted.

“I--Mother told me no one was allowed to.” He pressed his palm against it a little tighter.

“Why?” Now Richard sounded confused.

Damian was confused. Shouldn’t he know? The way Mother spoke of it had made Damian believe it to be something that anyone would recognize. A black mark.

“It is dangerous.” Damian said simply, “Just seeing it would put myself and others in danger.”

Richard’s brow was furrowed. Behind him, Alfred cleared his throat.

“Master Damian, might I ask, do you know of soul marks?”

“What?” Damian asked, looking up at him, “No, I have never heard of the term.”

Something twisted in his stomach. Sour and warm. He was certain now Mother had lied. He didn’t know why she had lied, but it was making him sick. The warmth was a kind of hope. An answer to the questions plaguing him since he’d arrived.

“A soul mark is a mark each of us are born with. It is to help us find the person most suited for us in the world. Some people never meet their soulmates, but find love all the same but others do and their marks always match.”

Damian remembered the couple he’d seen in the park, their matching hands.

“So then--this is one of those? Not a scar?”

He let his hand drop, fingers grazing the feather.

“I can confirm that it is indeed a soul mark.” Alfred said.

Damian frowned at him, “Have you seen its match?”

Alfred smiled at him. Richard cleared his throat and Damian returned his attention to him. Understanding now blooming, Richard had thought he’d keep something like a soul mark from him. Had believed Damian wouldn’t want him to know something so personal. He must apologize.

Before he could get the words out, Richard had tugged his own shirt off and there, under his collar bone and just above his heart was a feather. It was the feather. Damian’s feather. The one he had seen every day in the mirror. The one he’d traced a hundred times wondering about.

“Oh.” Damian said.

And then, “I don’t understand. I--we would not be romantically compatible?”

Richard snorted, “Soulmates don’t have to be romantically involved, Dames. It can be totally platonic. Often best friends will have matching marks, or a father and son. It just means--well it means we fit together in a special way. That we’ll always be precious to each other.”

Damian could have told Richard that, and it seemed his body had already done the work for him. Or fate? Damian felt he may get a headache if he tried to figure this out.

The point was, Richard was the most important person in his life. He just--he’d had no idea that it had been declared before he’d even met the man. Before he even knew that they would get to the point where they’d trust each other with their lives. It felt right. Instead of a declaration these marks were a promise.

Richard had chosen to love Damian with his whole heart before even knowing who Damian would be to him. And Damian? Well Damian had done the same.

“I hate to break up this moment, but you are both still bleeding.” Alfred said, “You may continue to talk but I really must begin caring for your wounds.”

Damian blushed, “Yes, of course.”

Instead of talking, they fell into silence, both Damian and Richard lost in their own thoughts. Soon, Alfred was finished, and had dismissed both of them.

Damian looked from Richard to the elevator that would return them to the penthouse and back, “I still have questions.” he said, not wanting to be sent to bed with his mind still racing.

“Me too.” Richard said, “How about some cocoa? We can talk upstairs.”

“That sounds nice.”

They moved up to the penthouse, and Damian sat at the bar, his hands pressed into the marble countertop of it. They’d both dressed in pajamas, but even with a shirt tugged over his soul mark --and how nice it was to have a real word for it-- he still felt exposed. Raw. Like there was something new and strange about him.

But nothing had happened with it. It was still there, still the same color and size. Still just a part of him that he’d always had.

“So.” Richard said, taking the seat next to him, and sliding a mug of steaming hot chocolate over, “You have questions?”

“As do you.” Damian said, taking the mug to hold between his palms, “Why don’t you ask yours first?”

His brother hummed, “I think yours will probably answer mine, but let’s start with something easy or maybe not easy, but, well what do you know about soulmates or marks?”

Damian nodded, “I--Mother never explained soulmates to me. I know the term only in a general sense. A phrase used not literally, but figuratively to describe two people romantically entwined. None of my teachers spoke of it, and no one at the League did either.”

He tapped his mug, “I was not blind, I saw the marks. But I believed them to be other things. Scars, birthmarks, or--well I did not have a word for what they were.” Damian could not look at Richard, it was silly. He should have asked more, pressed Mother for answers or done his own research, “It was not until I arrived in Gotham that I saw so many and began to wonder. Surely not everyone in the world could have gotten tattoos? But--not all were visible and so I did not ask.”

Richard was quiet, listening and taking in Damian’s words with rapt attention. He hadn’t even sipped his cocoa. Damian took a gulp of his, just to do something that wasn’t watching his brother.

“And yours?” Richard asked, “What did Talia tell you about it?”

“I--Mother told me mine was dangerous.” Damian pressed his fingers to his chest again, “I was not to talk about it or ask about it. It was supposed to be a scar, from an attack on me when I was a baby. But I always knew it was not. Still, she was insistent I not tell anyone or let others see. Especially Grandfather.”

Damian frowned, “I thought for a long while it was to protect him. That I was cursed.”

He looked up at Richard, into his brother’s eyes, and knew at last why Mother had been so insistent he stay silent, “But I was wrong. Mother was protecting me, and you. If Grandfather knew I had a soulmate, he would have hunted the world for them, and then used them against me.”

Damian did not think he could have stood having Richard in danger because of him. He hated the very thought that anything would happen to his brother. Especially because of him.

He sipped his drink again, “Mother used to rub her wrist. I saw a mark there once. A little bat. I never asked her about it, and she never offered to tell me--Richard? Do the marks have special meaning? Or are they obscure?”

“They do have a meaning, there’s a lot of meaning in their placement and look and well everything.”

“Teach me?”

His brother smiled, “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

They worked their way through their mugs, and second rounds while Richard spoke. He talked about how soul marks that were hidden usually meant that the relationship was more intimate, but not always. How marks mirrored each other, one on the left, one on the right so that the pair could be face to face and match, like looking in a mirror. How if one’s soulmate died the mark faded to be almost invisible or if their relationship broke and shattered how it would line with cracks.

“Just because someone has a soulmate doesn’t mean that things will work out perfectly. We are human after all.” Richard said.

Some people could be born without marks, and very rarely one would change, and shift to take on the form of another. Most often that happened if a soulmate had died, but sometimes it happened for other reasons.

“And the meaning?” Damian pressed, wanting to know, to understand why a feather? Why this mark on his skin and not something else?

His brother hummed, “There’s books and stuff out on their meanings, especially for marks of similar styles. But when it all comes down to it, the meaning really comes from the pair. Some people know instantly why a mark looks the way it does. A shared memory or love of something. Maybe it is the first line a lover traced across another’s wrist, or an idea that is important to them.”

He leaned forward, elbow on the bar’s counter, “Want to take a guess at ours?”

Damian furrowed his brow, “Robin?” he guessed, “or your previous title, Nightwing is indicative of a bird and flight?”

Richard nodded, “Those are good thoughts. I’ve always looked at it as a symbol of flying and of freedom. But feathers have other meanings too. Trust, loyalty, hope, a connection between the creature who had the feather and where it has gone now.”

“I like those.” Damian said, and then looked down at his mug, “You have given me many of those things.”

“And you’ve done the same for me.” Richard said, “We don’t need to name why it is a feather you know. We can feel the meaning here.” he pressed a palm to his heart, “and just know.”

Damian nodded, “I am glad I share it with you. And--I am glad I did not know before now.”

His brother frowned, then nodded, “I see, if you did, and we’d have seen each other’s marks, then you might have thought our relationship was because of the soul mark?”

“Is that silly?” he said, peering up.

“No. It’s a worry a lot of people have.” Richard reached out and took Damian’s free hand, “But soul marks don’t make relationships Damian. They just indicate potential, and while they are incredibly accurate in that indication, it’s up to us what we do with it.”

Damian squeezed Richard’s hand, “I see. We are--doing well?”

Richard laughed, “I’d say so. We had a rough start, but yes, Dames. I think we’re doing just fine.”

Damian smiled, “Excellent. Thank you for answering my questions.”

“Of course.” His brother stretched, “Now, it’s later than either of us should be up. We can chat more tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Damian said.

They got up, rinsed their cups and moved to the hall with the bedrooms. Damian paused, hesitating before he entered his own.

“I was planning to suggest we take the night off patrol, but our injuries have cemented that. Perhaps we can return to the park tomorrow?” he said.

Richard smiled, “Sounds like a plan.” In a motion he tugged Damian forward into a tight hug and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “Love you, kiddo.”

Damian returned the hug, “You as well.”

#damianwayneweek2021 #Damian Wayne #Dick Grayson #day 4 #soulmates #platonic soulmates #soul marks #fluff #canon typical violence #hurt/comfort #injury #precious posts #fanficiton

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who-ever-said-i-was-nice · 3 years

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Hello there ~ Congrats on 100! 🎉💕 I'm so happy for you!! I was wondering if I could request a match up for Ikevamp. I'm fairly new to Tumblr and this is my first match up request so I'm a bit nervous since you are literally the first person I will have interacted with on here 😅 but I love your writing! If you are busy or have a lot of requests or anything please don't worry about it or overwork yourself! It's a lot of work and I totally understand!! Also edit, I'm really sorry in advance. This was way longer than I intended.

I am a bi female. I am an Aries but I am close to the cusp (April 18th). I don't typically associate myself with most Aries traits outwardly though since I am really shy and reserved, but internally I can see it as I am competitive with myself and a major perfectionist. But I'm low-key chaotic as can be like I'd identify myself as chaotic good since I'm just a mess with good intentions 😂 I am an INFP-T personality (which is scary accurate to me) if that helps any!

I am very short, only 5' tall and I am slim with overall small/petite features and frame. I have medium/dark, warmer toned brown eyes and auburn wavy/loose curly hair. I am very pale but have a lot of small freckles on my face and body. I've been told I look a lot younger than my age I think since I have a round face and am overall a small person. I'm very friendly and smile a ton but I am shy. I get big "eye smiles" whenever I smile and tend to blush a lot cause nerves. I've been told I tend to smile a lot and because I'm a shy, vv awkward person, my go to whenever I meet up with literally anyone is to smile out of nervous habit so people tend to think I'm overly friendly or approach me but in reality I'm a nervous boi.

I study landscape architecture and wildlife biology in college rn so I really love art and nature! I want to do habitat restoration after college. I especially am interested in plants and often go hiking and identify plants as well as do botanical drawings.

I am interested in both math and science as well as art. I enjoy watercolor painting as well and I am interested in illustrating children's books if landscape architecture doesn't pan out 😅

Besides that I have an obsession with extreme love for cats. I'm not ashamed to say my cat is my best friend, she is perfection 😂 I love anything living though thats not a person. Plant, animal, insect, they're all so wonderful to me and I tend to feel more comfortable around animals and nature than people.

My favorite color is a pale pink, I really love light, cutesy things. But my personal style is very retro academia. I wear a lot of clothes from the 60's and 70's or inspired by then. I really like fashion and fashion history.

My favorite food is spaghetti with just cheese. I may be an adult but oh well,, some plain ol spaghetti just hits the spot every time. I love baking and cooking though and have a sweet tooth. I used to decorate cakes in high school and I enjoy creating my own recipes and desserts.

I like to daydream, play video games, drink tea, sketch, read, and listen to music as well. I also spend a ton of time outdoors enjoying nature. I love trivial and fun facts. I want to gain as much knowledge as I can about the world.

I don't like things that are too loud I suppose. I'm a pretty easy going person but I am very nervous in crowds or places that are too loud. I'm also afraid of storms and I'm not fond of extremely dark places either. I don't like failing/faltering or embarrassing myself, especially in academics. I am extremely nervous talking to large groups or meeting new people as well, I prefer small, more personal interactions. While I enjoy talking to people it's just really hard so I don't usually unless they reach out to me first. I also hate conflict and drama (unless I'm not involved, then bring the popcorn). But any conflict is a big oof for me.

In a relationship, I really like surprise hugs and signs of affection. Sudden surprises create a sense of excitement which I really like to have. I like the idea of a relationship feeling new, passionate, and exciting, despite being together for awhile. I don't like gifts necessarily since I feel uncomfortable receiving things, I prefer sharing special memories. I'm not huge on PDA, I feel uncomfortable if someone is too clingy around others, especially my family or someone I know since my family is pretty conservative. But if we are alone, I love tons of affection and little acts of love. Hugs from behind, a small brush of our hands, holding pinkies, light kisses, and lots of smiles just make me melt, ugh tiny gestures are so cute. Communication is very important to me but not my strong suit, I tend to shy away from issues and trip over words I don't mean, but body language is very important and I think can be better for me and for my partner to understand.

I would like to be able to enjoy a comfortable silence with someone while we both read or do something while holding hands or just touching in some subtle way. I would love to be able to escape my perfectionist front that I have around others when I'm with my partner and be able to make really silly, dumb jokes and have lots of laughs. I love the idea of joking around while loosely holding each other. I present myself very seriously but I'm a big goof and rather dorky and like to have fun but romantic interactions.

Also it would be a plus if they love or at least tolerate kitty cuddles with me and my cat. My cat is such a baby, she's constantly in my lap or following me around so we are a package deal basically 😂

I'm sorry this is so long, and I hope it is enough for you as well!! Thank you so much for opening up match ups too! If you need anything else let me know! Take care of yourself and congrats!! 💕

It’s perfection don’t worry. Thank you so much for sending the request. I hope you are taking care of yourself too and everything is good.

Anyway I matched you with.....................

............Isaac

HA BET YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT ONE COMING!

oh you did?

ok I’ll stop

Isaac is a very curious person much like yourself

he loves discovering and learning new things

and that is the first thing Isaac noticed about you to be honest

sure he saw you and was like Damn she gorgeous but that was about it

however when he discovered that you are also a curious but little nervous bean he started opening up to you

neither of you like crowds and loud people who disrupt your concentration, so usually you spend your time in the library

sitting together in silence and reading

loves that your cute and blushy

even tho he’s exactly the same

as you got closer he started noticing more and more things about you

how your eyes would lit up when you passed certain plants in the garden

how you would hum to yourself and dance around thee kitchen a little when you thought nobody was looking

he loved everything about you from your adorably freckles to your reserved yet charming personality

it too him a long time to confess to you

a long time and a lot of pep talks from Leo

in the end he forgot everything Leo said and confessed to you in his own way

after that oh boy

you are the definition of inseparable

he’s new to this so you have to give him a little time to get used to it

after he’s comfortable he’s very affectionate

more in private but still

will give you surprised hugs all the time

whether it’s that he walks up behind you and hugs you while turning apple red God if Isaac was here he’d kill me for that pun or him walking and scooping you up and plopping you in his lap in the library as you both get into some book

totally gets that you don’t like going to very crowded places

BOOM your wish is my command Isaac will almost always take you to fields of beautiful flowers so you can hang out, goof around, have a picnic and the stargaze

Isaac will pull you close or just hold your hand while explaining a few things about the constellation, after you will just enjoy the silence as you bask in each others company, while gazing up at the starry sky

he holds you pinky

finds it super cute and usually blushes harder than you even though he initiated it

holding your pinky is a personal thing for him

he finds it reassuring

you’ll just be walking and all of a sudden Isaac intertwines your pinkies

he’s anxiety on legs and holding your pinky is his way to tell you that in that moment he’s scared, anxious or just extremely nervous

you usually hug him and kiss his cheek

holding your pinky can also be that he loves you and hopes he’ll be with you forever

it depends on the situation, but he likes telling you he loves you like this

he has a surprisingly good sense of humour and likes to goof around with you

loves your cat

he wasn’t much on a cat person before, but your cat likes o play with Harry and he thinks that’s really cute

all in all you guys have a really good relationship

Ok now i have to pour some water on my head

CUTENESS OVER LOAD

Lia .exe has stopped working

That’s it! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you are well! Once again thank you @uwu-catlin for the request and the compliment. Love you 3000!

#Ikemen Vampire #cybird ikemen #ikevamp+matchups #ikemen vampire match up #ikemen vampire isaac #ikemen vampire isaac x reader

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eeriefeelingsat3amuwu · 4 years

Text

Oc’s

Nina Heath

Skin tone: dark

Eye color: blue

Hair: curly, dark brown with a blue ombre

Height: 158cm

Weight: 90kg

Age: 23

Gender: nonbinary

Sexuality: bisexual

Details: vitiligo on their left shoulder/right hip/stomach/back/over the left eye, eyebrow piercing, nose ring, lip ring, ears pierced all the way up, sleeve tattoos on both arms, tattoos all over their body (thighs, ankles, torso, back, calves,...)

Personality: confident, chaotic good, gremlin, dumb but kinda smart, loyal, would kill for their friends, would kill their friends, angry, smol and chubby, disastrous bisexual, scary, yell-a-lot, bunnies!, strong, caring

Hobbies: baking, crocheting, arguing, painting nails, reading (but their head hurts), cuddling, kissing, calming their girlfriend down, Fighting with people who hurt their friends/girlfriend (is totaly the embodiment of:

Nina: You made Sophia cry!

Tray: Sophia always cries!

Sophia, crying: That’s not true...)

Hates: dysphoria, homophobes, transphobes, Karens, birds, tall people who make fun of them, their glasses (but their head hurts if they don’t wear them), contacts (but their head hurts if they don’t wear them), headaches

Job: baker

Sophia Georgening

Skin tone: caramel

Eye color: green

Hair: really messy,straight (unlike her), bob cut with a triangle undercut at the back if her head, ginger

Height: 186cm

Weight: 78kg

Age: 24

Gender: cis woman

Sexuality: lesbian

Details: freckles all over her face and shoulders, bushy eyebrows with an eyebrow cut in the left one, tongue piercing, tattoo of a Phoenix on her back between the shoulder blades, Nina and a heart tattooed on her right bicep, ripped (seriously, she’s buff, she has abs, biceps, triceps, she could crush a melon with her thighs, the CaLvEs,...), wears her hair tied up in a messy bun almost 90% of the time, vegetarian and whenever she eats a product that came from an Animal like milk or an egg, she apologizes to said animal

Personality: calm, thoughtful, lawful good, a TrEe, loving, caring, silent, secretly anxious, strict, tidy, colected, extremely smart but almost never shows it, a bottom, sensitive, crybaby

Hobbies: blacksmithing, archery (but she never shoots at living targets and cries when she needs to shoot at plastic animals), working out, running, kickboxing (even tho she apologizes to her oponent afterwards), helping people out, petting animals, kissing, cuddling

Hates: sad movies, Animal cruelty, mean people, social interactions (but she’s good at hiding it), not much else, she thinks that everyone deserves another chance and that all people have some good in them

Job: works in a flower shop, part time blacksmith/gym trainer

Tray Black

Skin tone: light

Eye color: yellow

Hair: short, bright blue

Height: 175cm

Weight: 69kg

Age: 20

Gender: genderflux (using all pronouns, mostly they/them, so they’ll be refered to as such while description is going on)

Sexuality: asexual panromantic

Details: nose ring (changes up every day), extravagant earrings, sleeve tattoo on their right arm, a snake tattooed around their left thigh, colorful/black clothing (they either look like a neon paint bomb or as a black hole), they rarely bind but pack rather often (bottom dysphoria is worse then the top one), a lot of rings and bracelets (you always know when they’re near since you hear clanking), hats, always wearing earphones

Personality: they’re really extra in every way, chill, sarcastic, funny, flegmatic, pesimistic, both love and hate attention, very competitive, potterhead but hates JK, totaly a Slytherin (and not just because of the snakes), a bit arrogant, very good leader, very very smart, good at arguments (seriously, you so don’t want to get into an argument with them, they’ll obliterate you)

Hobbies: singing, drums, gaming, playing the guitar, sketching people/sceneries, reading (mostly sci-fi/fantasy), dying hair, combining jewelry with clothes, listening to music, taking care of their pet sneks

Hates: shoping, overplayed pop songs, dogs, teeth, the summer (it’s too damn hot for them), homophobes/transphobes, J.K. Rowling, terfs, politics (the people)

Job: part time at Nina’s bakery, studying politology and sociology, in the school band

Connor Wearings

Skin tone: lightly tanned (not as pale as Tray but not as dark as Sophia)

Eye color: heterochromia - left eye is green, right eye is grey

Hair: curly, short, hazelnut brown

Height: 168cm

Weight: 64kg

Age: 21

Gender: demiboy (using he/him pronouns but not quite cis)

Sexuality: asexual, aromantic

Details: freckles. everywhere., always smiling (he’s got dimples), dressed freely (skirts, dress, pants, blouses, shirts, heels, crop tops, hoodies,...), he’s really comfortable in his body and yet he’s not fully comfortable with all that comes with it, smol bean, the cutest little pout, ALWAYS covered in paint, fingers are pernamently covered in bandaids, wears a bandana to hold his hair back while working

Personality: he’s a total sweetheart, kind, helpful, outgoing, happy-go-lucky, loving, caring, funny, always laughing/smiling, really hard to piss him off, really easy to make him upset (another embodiement of ‘he always cries), ‘Maybe I can drink my problems away’ *opens capri-sun*, dog lover, puppy-like personality, loyal

Hobbies: drawing, cooking, baking, petting animals, fluffy things!, crocheting, sewing, painting, dressing up, making tea, helping his friends, hugging, holding hands, platonic relationships

Hates: arguments, people who make fun of someone, rude people, loud music, the dark, the cold, octopuses, dark colors, unfinished jobs

Job: studying art, psychology and doing a baking course at the moment (very productive and capable), working a part-time at a convinience store and a daycare centre (the kids love him)

Abram Hayze

Skin tone: dark

Eye color: hazelnut

Hair: deep brown, curly and fluffy

Height: 197cm

Weight: 78kg

Age: 19

Gender: agender - e/em/eir/emself pronouns

Sexuality: pansexual, demiromantic

Details: e has a lot of moles all over eir body, mostly presents androgynous, yet sometimes likes to present feminine, had very unaccepting parents so whenever e is forced to go to a more profesional setting or to meet with older people, e presents masculine even though e hates it, very proud of eir hair, love to play with them when e’s nervous and try new hairstyles all the time, e never dyes it tho, piercings on both ears, piercing under the lip, piercing in the bellybutton

Personality: e is really calm, likes to think and be alone, yet also loves to spend time with eir friends, smiling a lot, always there when someone needs em, really perceptive and no one really knows how e does it, but e seems to know about a lot of stuff that other people don’t (it’s just the fact that e is very trustworthy and so a lot of people let their guard down around em), e is also really into debates, but not the political ones like Tray, eir partner, but rather ones about books, headcannons and interests, e is also really sneaky and likes to play tricks and pranks on people, especially confusing them with the food that e eats, e is chaotic good

Habbies: reading, hiding around places and letting emself be found in the most ridiculous positions, putting stuff on the top shelves when e is hanging out with eir friends (the short ones), sitting in strange places where no one knows how e got in, sleeping

Hates: homophobes/transphobes, people with no sense of humor, long waits, queues, places with a lot of people, the dark

Job: studying psychology, working part-time in a hairdressing shop

Tenzin Arish

Skin tone: slightly tanned

Eye color: purple

Hair: deep black, short (one side is totaly buzzed and the other is a bit longer) the ends are bleached and dyed (purple, blue, green, pink) depending on their mood

Height: 164cm

Weight: 58kg

Age: 22

Gender: nonbinary (xe/ xeir/ xem)

Sexuality: queer

Details: xe are really skinny and fairly androgynous, no one actually knows what xeir biological sex is and xe aren’t gonna tell anyone anytime soon, xe present androgynously, yet sometimes xe like to present masc/fem, depending on the day, xe love xeir hair and that’s why xe dye them so often, if xe don’t like the color, it can even change daily

Personality: sarcasm and irony are the two languages xe speak in, xe like coffee and practicaly live off of it, no one ever saw xem sleep, xe are always online and always awake when someone knocks on xeir door at any time (so xeir friends know that when they need a friend, xe will be awake whenever they decide to come there), xe love helping people with their mental problems yet xe never try to solve xeir own, the only other language xe speak is memes

Hobbies: taking care of stray animals, helping people out (whether it’s an old lady who needs to cross the street or a protestor who needs protection from the rubber bullets/tear gas), protesting, breaking down gender boundaries, educating people on the LGBTQ+ history, history itself, archeology, xe love caves and everything that has to do with geology

Hates: homophobes/transphobes, terfs, anyone who’s stupidly using history (especially against the LGBTQ+ comunity), plants (xe have alergies), flowers (xe think it’s overated)

Job: part-time job in a museum, studying history and geology

Okay, so I hope you enjoy...this? Please inform me if my autocorrect misgendered one of my sweethearts, I proofread it but one can never be so sure. To be clear: all of them hate transphobes/homophobes, racists, terfs, neon*zis, Tr*mp supporters and everyone else who is somehow harming people or disrespecting their rights, I just really didn’t have the willpower to write everything of this down in every Single one of the hate columns because that would mean I have to think about it and that would do me no good, because I really didn’t want to have a mental breakdown while writing about my oc’s. That’ll be all, thanks for comming to my TED talk.

Tags: @exhaustedauthor @definietlynotsatan @detroit-become-snail @nyamafriend and @ anyone who wants to read this. Bye!

#my oc’s #luv them #no misgendering!#(or at least I hope so)#i am looking 👁👁#i don’t know how to tag this #sorry

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nad-zeta · 4 years

Text

Matchup! ( ﾟヮﾟ)

hiya! I only just found your amazing blog and I was wondering if I could get a ship for IkeSen?

Basics~ I’m a straight Australian/scottish female (also huffelpuff) with longish brown wavy hair, green eyes, freckles and dimples. I’m somewhat average weight but with more of an athletic build. People are always trying to hug me even though I hate hugs and also squish my cheeks. Im very ticklish and if someone tickles me I will fight back.

Personality~ I have an INFP personality type which really explains a lot about me. I hate talking about how I feel with people and tend to just ignore feeling like sadness or anger, but then I love it when people rant to me about their own problems since I like giving advice. So I guess im quite reserved, which I think annoys people who don’t know me to well. For me, being reserved means a lot of awkwardness, and when at school I tend to just stare out the window (if I have no friends in that class) If I am comfortable about someone I love deep conversations. Like, not necessarily about proper issues more about dumb stuff like how we are our soulmate from a past live (idk me and my friend talked about that one for ages) I also have a weird laugh but oh well…

I’ve always been quite spiritual I guess, and would always see and hear things that my family wouldn’t. I used to be really quite when I was younger, not really because I was that shy or anything but more because I had a very active mind. That got better as I grew older, but im still really into tarot reading and all that squiz! Aries is my zodiac and im very passionate about research and trying to figure out strangers zodiacs.

My hobbies include: field hockey, swimming, reading (ASOIAF over and over) binge watching shows, drawing, collecting stones and making stone pets, sewing and making clothes, stargazing, researching the biology of strange insects, journalling, baking, gardening, going on rides with friends and being in my hammock for hours.

Things I dislike are: sleeping in (im an early bird), when people ask personal questions and I hardly know them, when my friends fight (im usually not apart of that), getting chilblains on my toes, when my neighbours dog won’t stop barking, tarragon (ew!), throne of glass book series (sorry, just can’t, nothing against the author), randomly judgmental people (like if you smile at them and they scoff, arggghh im already socially awkward safe me!) and the character Hannah from dark on Netflix.

- Thanks so much, I may go stalk your account now. ღ ღ

@ophelias-flower-bed

Hi hi dear! ❤🦊Thank you so much for the request! I’m sorry for taking sooo freaken long with this!🦋🥰 Hehe, hope you have a super good day! And I hope you enjoy this, love! ❤🌻🦋

I match you with……………… Yoshimoto

After having arrived back in the past and saving Nobunaga’s life you were settling in rather nicely. The warlords had gotten used to their new reserved princess, who, low key kept to herself. It had taken you a while to get Hideyoshi to trust you, mainly cause when you did communicate with him, you would awkwardly stumble over your words. Although after some time, he had come to realize that you were just a reserved little cinnaroll.

You worked extremely hard for the castle and its people, and you were starting to wear thin

As an apology for suspecting you of being an assassin, Hideyoshi showered you with gifts and turned into a big brother figure. He noticed pretty early on that you never really talked about your feelings, but the exhaustion from working hard was painted clear as day across your face. He shooed you to the markets with a bag of coins and told you to treat yourself.

You walked around the market aimlessly when a fabric stall caught your attention. The fabrics were dyed bright colours and incredibly soft. Your fingertips danced across each of the blots until you found one that you liked. You hadn’t sewn or made any clothes since arriving in the past, and you low key missed it. As you went to pay for the fabric and a few sewing notions, a loud voice boomed behind you, “What a beautiful design.” You tuned back to find a beautiful man dressed in a rather extravagant kimono. You gave a small smile, not really knowing what to say in these situations and left.

A few days later, you had successfully made your first kimono of the past and decided to test it out by going to a teahouse, to peacefully sit and sip on some tea. You sat outside, enjoying the warm sun as you looked out onto the beautiful scene before you. The teahouse had a beautiful garden, and you couldn’t help but feel inspired to draw it.

Yoshimoto had just finished spying on the Oda forces, when he spotted you sketching in the summer sun. He curiously made his way up to your table and sat down. He was low key thankful for the fact that the teahouse was packed. The only open seats to chose from was the one opposite you and one on the other far corner of the tea-house.

Your eyes shot up curiously at the new presence at your table. He simply gave you a kind smile, “Wow did you make that from the fabric, it’s absolutely stunning! You are a very talented seamstress little bird.” You gave a weary laugh in your usual awkward way, and told him that you were no seamstress, rather that you enjoyed making clothes for fun. He smiled as he sipped on his tea and watched you draw.

A light conversation flowed between the two of you, and you found yourself actually enjoying is company. In the weeks to follow, you had run into the man more and more. These run-ins would usually take place in fabric shops, and end with the two of you sitting down to have tea together.

He honestly loved your accent, and that you would listen to him rant about all his problems. He loved the way your eyes would light up whenever he would ask your opinion on a matter. He especially loved that unusual laugh you would do, whenever he complained about one of his travelling companions always wanting to pick a fight with him. As the two of you got to know each other better you found yourself opening up more and more to him

He found your love for zodiac and tarot extremely amusing. He would ask you all about it, even wanting to know what his sign was and the traits that would go along with it. Definitely asked you more than once to read his cards. He even low key wanted to try his hand at reading your cards for you. It was also at this point when you low key told him you loved to collect rocks.

He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but Yoshimoto found himself completely in love with you. You had honestly been the first person to see him for him and not as some extravagant man or the head of his clan. He would often take you on horse riding trips outside of the town. His favourite spot to take you was the beach, cause you would always get that excited glint in your eyes at the idea of finding some cool new rocks for your collection.

The two of you would walk together for hours looking at and showing off cool rocks you had found on the sand or in a nearby cave. Sometime you cuties would have a competition as to who could make the best stone pet. Yoshi has had a hard life having to burden the responsibility of being the head of his clan, but during time like this with you, he felt completely relaxed and at ease.

One day Yoshi found a bright red ruby during one of your dates on the beach. He carefully tucked it away before you could spot it. He gave the stone to Shingen and asked him to turn it into a dainty necklace for you, setting his plan in action. He had planned out the perfect date to give it to you and confess his love. After a week of reporting back to Kenshin and Shingen, he made his way back to Azuchi to spend some more time with you.

At this point, both of you knew of each other’s secret identities. You knew he was an enemy spy and the head of an enemy clan and he knew you were an Oda princess, but that never stop the two of you from hanging out with each other. You always missed him when he would go home to report back. So much so that even the Oda forces suspected that you had a special someone in your life. TBH when yoshi was away he would write the most beautiful poems and letters to you. They were never too romantic as the two of you had only been friends, but they did speak of how much he missed you.

On his way back, he spotted you in the forest with a notebook in hand sketching out strange little bugs that you had found. No matter how long he has known you, every time he saw you, you managed to surprise him. He walked his way up to you and glanced down at your notebook, you low key smacked his chest for scaring you. He spent the afternoon with you looking at strange bugs and telling you about the biology of the ones he knew. He was slightly surprised, as he never realized how many different types of bugs actually existed and inhibited the forest.

As evening fell, he took your hand and helped you onto his horse to take you to a surprise destination. You rode until the sun was well beneath the horizon and finally arrived on the hop of a big hill. He carefully helped you down and lead you to a little picnic that he had set out for the two of you.

He remembered that you had mentioned during your various conversations that you also loved stargazing and it just so happened that he too was a lover of the stars. He had told you that on that particular evening there would be a meteor shower.

The two of you sat and chatted in deep conversation about soul mates and past lives as you waited for the meteor shower to start. The two of you sat and looked up at the heavens as the meteor shower started. After the last star shot across the sky, Yoshimoto presented you with the ruby necklace and a small little ruby rock pet. He smiled as he told you that a friend of his *cough Sasuke cough* had told him the significance of giving someone a ruby and that he thought it was rather fitting for this situation.

After that, you decided to move to Kasugayama castle with Yoshi to get to know him better. You weren’t even there two days and you were named as the official castle seamstress by Kenshin due to the beautiful clothes you made. The bunny lord loved your kimonos so much that he commissioned you to make a few tiny ones for his beloved bunnies

Yoshi couldn't helps but smiles as you would sit in the council room, silently looking out of the window. He loved watching the shocked expressions that would play across his friends’ faces whenever you would instantly open up whenever he walked into the room.

He was absolutely over the moon when he found out the two of you had a hobby in common, that being gardening. He legit loves to spend hours with you outdoors as the two of you dig in the dirt and plant some beautiful flowers. Sometimes if he is feeling playful, he will try and tickle you, which usually ends up in a bit of a tickle/mud fight.

Because Yoshi is a warlord, he needs to stay fit and keep up with his training so when you tell him about your favourite sports he absolutely wants to include them in his training regimen, as a way to stay fit and spend time with you. He 100% drags his Kasugayama friends out to the open field so that all of you can play a match of field hockey. Thanks to Sasuke’s amazing ninja skills, he managed to construct a makeshift goal and hokey equipment for everyone.

Usually in the summer when it is scorching hot, Yoshi would take you to a nearby waterfall or beautiful lake to swim to your heart’s content and to cool down from the scorching sun.

He absolutely loves, loves, loves it when you surprise him with baked goods, and will 9/10 time go and brag about your fantastic baking skills to his cousin.

His all-time favourite thing is to lay in a hammock with you in his arms as you read. He would usually just sit and watch you read occasionally falling asleep while gently holding you.

Yoshi knows you hate hugs so he will keep them to a minimum, but he honestly can’t help but want to warp you up in his arms or pinch those cute cheeks of yours. His favorite thing in the world is to drop a small kiss on your dimples, as he finds them incredibly cute.

Often the two of you will be out on some fun adventure together, collecting rocks or having a blast. Quiet times between the two of you would usually involve merely enjoying each other company in random deep conversations.

Other potential matches……………. Kennyo

I hope you have a super good day!❤🦋🥰

#matchups #match ups #ikesen matchup #matches #ikesen yoshimoto #yoshimoto imagawa #yoshimoto matchup #ikemen sengoku yoshimoto #submission

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hyunsracha · 5 years

Text

home — seo changbin

word count: 2.8k

summary: you hated everything about your school. even the stupid galas your best friend forced you to go to.

You hated your school.

You hated the long, winding hallways that led to dull, lifeless classrooms. You hated the grey courtyard, meant to give students a place to be free, but only made you feel more trapped.

More importantly, you hated the people. The teachers, people who didn’t care and only wanted you to pass so you could get out of their face.

And the students. Greedy, monstrous little demons who hold each other’s secrets like playing cards, ready to whip them out and ruin each other’s lives at any given moment.

You could only stand two people at your school, and one of them graduated last year. His name was Bang Chan, and he took you under your wing when you were a freshman, guiding you through the halls in a way that kept the hardwood floors from eating you alive.

And you did the same to Lee Felix the next year. He was a new freshman, and his shaking doe eyes made your heart cry. So you took him under your wing, showing him where to go and where not to go.

Chan made you tough, teaching you to stand up for yourself against the assholes on campus.

Felix made you soft, teaching you compassion and empathy for those other than yourself.

They meant everything to you, and you couldn’t really be bothered to deal with anyone else.

But now Chan was gone, and you were a senior, and Felix was a junior.

You always thought that your grim perspective would tear Felix apart, but two years later, he still glows like the sun.

Even when the two of you are sitting in the basement of the school, a cigarette between your lips as you doodle on your math homework.

“Y/N….are you even listening to me?” Felix whined, his brown eyes somehow still sparking under the shitty yellow lamp lighting.

“No, you know that.” You pulled the cigarette from your lips’ hold, exhaling smoke and raising your eyebrow at your friend.

“I was talking about the gala. They’re doing a super cheesy theme this year: Paris. Fun, right?”

You gagged, “Of course they would do something like that. Sounds awful.”

“But Y/N!,” Felix pouted, “We have to go! We go every year. And it’s my last year with you…”

“D-Don’t give me those eyes...Felix! Fine.” You sighed. Damn Felix and his stupidly pretty eyes.

You checked the time on your phone, a soft curse leaving your lips as you put out your cigarette. You were going to be late, and art was the only class you cared about.

You loved your art class. Your teacher didn’t really care what you drew, exclaiming that, “art is everything! Even your breath is art!” And you liked drawing; it was quite soothing. Plus, the teacher loved you and said that you works were “inspired,” so the ego boost is much appreciated.

You were feeling tired today, so your drawing was simple. Just made of pencil, you drew a bedroom scene. Of course, the bedroom was much nicer than your actual one at your house, and you would much rather be in your art’s room. You sketched a bed, big and warm. You sketched a nightstand, paintings on the walls, a dresser, etc.

Your teacher stood by your side, draping a comforting arm over your shoulders, “Missing home?”

Home. A funny little word. This bedroom you drew wasn’t home, and neither was your bedroom where you lived. You didn’t really have a home.

“Yeah. Just tired today.”

—

Felix was part of Anime Club. He had Anime Club every Tuesday and Thursday, so you spent Tuesday and Thursday afternoons sitting in the back of the classroom the Anime Club kids used, getting a quick power nap. Then you two would walk home together, the sounds of your shoes clacking against the hardwood floors making you even more tired.

“What are you gonna wear to the gala?” Felix asked, the faraway look in his eyes signaling his excitement.

“I dunno...clothes, I guess.”

“Nice clothes, Y/N.”

“Fine. Nice clothes, I guess.”

Felix lived three streets away from you, which you thought was weird because you had never seen him before he was a freshman. Those last three streets were your least favorite to walk through, because they brought you closer and closer to the place you didn’t want to be.

There was nothing wrong with your house. On the outside at least. It was quite pretty; it even had flowers in the front yard. But there was nothing growing on the inside.

The air inside your house was suffocating. Your throat felt clogged as you took your shoes off.

“Y/N.”

“Mom.”

“How was school?”

“Fine. How was work?”

“Fine.”

And you were in your room.

Your mom was never the same after your dad left.

You remember that day like it was yesterday.

You were seven years old. Your mom was out at work, so it was just you and your dad. He had spent the whole day coming in and out of the house, but you didn’t know why. You had been in your room, playing with your toys, so all you heard was the door. Around 3:00, he came into your room and scooped you up into his arms. His tears were wet in your hair.

“Daddy? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” You had asked. He sat down on your bed, setting you on his lap.

“Y/N, you know I love you very much, right?”

You had giggled, “Yes, Daddy! Of course I know that!”

He kissed your forehead before setting you back on the ground, “I’m going out for a bit, okay?”

“Okay!”

And you never saw him again.

When your mom came home at 5:00 to a house without her husband, she had asked you where he went.

When you replied with, “Out,” she broke.

She spent days in her room after that, refusing any of the little snacks you brought her.

When she did finally come out, something had changed. She was much more reserved, and the light had drained from her eyes, almost like she was just a walking corpse.

When you were old enough, she explained to you why she was so sad all the time.

You never had crushes on boys after that.

Her job was hardly enough to keep you two afloat, so you sold a lot of things. Your house was almost bare, only having a couch and a tv on the floor. Your room was like that too, the only furniture being your bed and dresser. When you turned 16, you got a part-time job, and almost all of that money went to paying bills.

You flopped down on your bed, immediately curling under the blankets. You never really bothered with doing your homework. You’d just do it the next day and get an A on it. It was always like that with you.

—

Time passed quickly. Too quickly. Two weeks had already passed and it was time for the gala. You were dressed in the nicest outfit you owned. Felix had come home with you and raided your closet, claiming that you needed his fashion expertise.

“Why don’t you have any nice clothes?”

“Felix I have no money.”

“Well neither-”

“You live in a mansion, shut up.”

But you cleaned up nicely, at least that’s what Felix said. You also had to promise him that you wouldn’t smoke at all that night. He gave you those stupid eyes again, so you agreed.

You thought the gala was even more boring every year. You only went as a freshman because Chan said you needed to have the full experience of New Haven Preparatory School. You didn’t know that meant having to watch all your peers grinding on each other, alcohol and God knows what else in their systems. One thing you didn’t know about prep schools before attending one: the kids were much more rebellious. Something about being so confined made them act out even more. You heard 3 different couples hooking up in the same bathroom when you just wanted to pee.

This year might’ve been the most boring. The way overdone theme made you want to gouge your eyes out. There was a cardboard Eiffel Tower and the lights were hung up to look like stars. If you squinted, it was kind of pretty.

Felix was having a good time though. While you leaned back against the wall, sipping on a punch you were 99% sure was spiked, Felix was living it up on the dance floor. Sometimes you forgot that Felix was a dancer, as he never really talked about it much. But when you saw him dance, you remembered all of the recitals you’ve gone to for him.

You become 100% sure that the punch is spiked when Felix holds out a hand, beckoning you to the dance floor, and you accept. You don’t know if you can dance, but you’re assuming you can’t based on the amused look on your best friend’s face. You two clumsily move to the beat of Top 50 pop songs, giggling whenever one of you trips. You were tipsy, and Felix was just a clumsy guy.

The gym hushes when the doors open, revealing someone you could care less about.

Seo Changbin.

Seo Changbin was practically made of money. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Changbin could literally get away with murder. You assumed that was why everyone liked him so much.

After a moment of gaping silence, the party continued. There was more chatter, mostly from people with huge crushes on the senior.

“God, he’s so hot. Do I look good enough for him to talk to me?”

You just laughed listening to their conversations. Felix must’ve heard them, too, as he rolled his eyes.

You didn’t care about Changbin. He had never been mean to you, but he was never nice to you either. So you just didn’t care.

You cared so little that you merely shrugged when he tapped on your shoulder, taking your hand in his and dragging you away from your best friend.

You cared so little that you couldn’t be bothered to push him away when he pulled you into the janitor’s closet and suddenly had you pressed against a wall. You didn’t push him away when his lips connected with yours, with a fire you weren’t aware his possessed. In fact, you cared so little that you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

You weren’t sure how long you were in that closet, or where your shoes were, or how many hickeys were on your neck, but you didn’t really care. You just went and found Felix, telling him that you were tired and wanted to go back to your house. And Felix walked you back, the knowing smirk never leaving his face, even after he dropped you off.

—

Seo Changbin was a complicated guy, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

People called him a player, and from most angles, he looked like one. But he swore he wasn’t.

But he never really talked about his feelings.

“Dude, you’re a fuckboy. Just deal with it.” His best friend Minho had said when Changbin tried to explain himself. His other friend, Seungmin, nodded from his spot in the corner, where he was reading a manga.

Seungmin was a junior, and sometimes Changbin thought about knocking his teeth out. But Seungmin could pay to get new teeth in a day, so what was the point?

He has tried to knock Minho’s teeth out once. He doesn’t really remember what they were fighting about, but he punched Minho in the mouth and got a beating in return. They’ve agreed to never fight again.

But Changbin swears he isn’t a fuckboy.

Seo Changbin, although rough on the outside, was soft on the inside. All he wanted was someone to fall in love with. Someone to hold at night and someone to make breakfast with and someone to kiss and hug and just…someone to love.

Seo Changbin was a strong believer in fate and soulmates, and believed that you would know who your soulmate was the moment your lips touched theirs.

So he spent his whole high school career trying to find his soulmate. So he’s kissed almost everyone at school. That’s actually how he met Minho...and Seungmin.

It took him four years to find his soulmate. He couldn’t understand the energy that passed through him the moment his lips touched yours. It was like someone had lit a match inside his body and set all his organs on fire in the best way possible. When you left, it was like all of the warmth in the world had been taken away from him, and he was left in the cold.

You were Changbin’s soulmate. He was sure of it.

Now all he had to do was make you his.

—

School had gotten weirder after the gala. Everyone looked at you, which is something they never did.

“Felix,” you whined, back in the basement, “why was everyone staring at me?”

“Oh, I don’t know Y/N, maybe it’s because you hooked up with Seo Changbin in the janitor’s closet.”

“We didn’t hook up! We just kissed for a little. I have self-control, asshole.”

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Your eyes widened as you put out your cigarette, making sure your foot was covering it as the person showed themselves.

“Seo Changbin, fancy seeing you here.” Felix sent a knowing glance your way, not even trying to make his wink secretive.

“I...I just wanted to give this to Y/N.” Changbin pulled out a single rose from behind his back, shoving it into your hand with a shy smile.

“You...you didn’t fall in love with me because of a kiss, did you?” You laughed awkwardly, setting the rose down next to you.

“I did, actually.”

Oh Jesus, you thought.

“Oh Jesus.” you said.

That wasn’t the last you saw of Seo Changbin that day. He walked you to your art class, then he walked you home, with Felix trailing behind. He wasn’t the worst person to talk to, and you actually found yourself laughing at a few of his jokes.

Changbin couldn’t even describe the joy he felt when he heard your laugh.

And this continued for the next few weeks, as the end of winter transitioned into spring. You could predict Changbin’s lines at this point, and it was pretty amusing.

“The flowers are so pretty today.” Felix mused.

“Like Y/N.” You and Changbin said in sync, sending each other sly grins afterwards. You hadn’t really noticed that his hand was holding yours. It happened a lot, and you didn’t mind it. You didn’t care.

You cared so little that you let him kiss your cheek as he left to go to his house.

You cared so little that you blushed when he said, “See you tomorrow, my darling Y/N.”

You cared so little that you walked home in a daze, hardly able to hear Felix’s teasing laugh.

“Mom.” You had said once you entered the house. Your mother jumped, not used to the lightness of your tone.

“Y/N.”

“I love you.”

A smile broke out on her face, the first one you had seen from her in years, “I love you too, my baby.”

And she hugged you, and she cried, and you cried. Your house felt a little bit more like a home, and you thought you should thank Changbin. He was always bright, bringing a new perspective of optimism into your life.

The next day, you decided you would thank him.

You took his hand in yours on your walk home, startling him enough to make him stutter. You watched him as he spoke, and you told him that he looked nice that day. By the time you got to his house, he was a blushing mess.

“B-Bye, Y/N.” He turned around to go to his house, but you stopped him. You wrapped your arms around his torso from behind, trying to pour every ounce of adoration you held for him into this hug. His eyes watered as he placed his hands over yours, immediately understanding what you wanted to tell him. He knew you well enough to not say anything, only turning around and pressing a kiss to your forehead before going home.

Home wasn’t a building. Home wasn’t a person either. To you, home was a feeling. A feeling of comfort and safety. That feeling started following you everywhere, leaving you feeling at home in your own skin.

You still hated your school. The hallways and the classrooms and the courtyard and the teachers and the students. But you still felt at home there, as your home was anywhere you went.

#changbin #seo changbin #stray kids #skz #changbin scenarios #seo changbin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #changbin imagines #seo changbin imagines #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #changbin x reader #seo changbin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader

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houseofvans · 5 years

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ART SCHOOL | INTERVIEW WITH BUNNIE REISS

A combination of folk art, psychedelia, nature, magic, stars and animals, the artworks by LA based artist Bunnie Reiss imagines a visual language and beauty that is both narrative and full of storytelling. Bunnie’s large scale murals have been and are still popping up all over Los Angeles, so we wanted to catch up with this talented lady to find out more about how she got interested in art, the subjects and themes of her work, and what she’s got coming up the rest of the year!

Photographs courtesy of the artist | Portrait by Tod Seelie

Could you introduce yourself to everybody? I’m Bunnie Reiss, muralist, installation artist and painter, living and working in Los Angeles. My work is a combination of folk art from my eastern European background, places I’ve traveled around the world, psychedelic dreams, strange imaginary worlds, nature, magic, the stars and animals.

I’ve worked really hard to create a fairly diverse career that includes painting huge 9-story buildings, designing custom patterns for fashion icons like Isabel Marant, building large space boats that float on imaginary clouds, and writing/illustrating children’s books. It keeps me crazy busy, and I am grateful to be living such a full life.

I own a 5 acre property in Landers, just outside of Joshua Tree, where we go for breaks from crazy city life and often gather with many of my artist friends. It’s super magical and I love it out there. I also have a very small Maine Coone kitty named Robert Plant that I treat like a dog and comes everywhere with me ;)

How did you first find yourself creating art or being interested in art? I was a tiny rebel with a large imagination, and I kinda knew from the beginning that I didn’t fit in. There are no other artists in my family, and I was definitely the odd ball. Art was, like most misunderstood kids, the only thing that felt really good to me. I loved museums, fashion, weird books and storytelling. There seemed to be huge worlds that were out there, and I had zero fear in discovering them. Recently a family friend sent a package with tons of drawings and art I did for her when I was a child, and it’s amazing to see the same imagery I use now in many of the funny things I drew as a kid.

How would you describe your work to someone who perhaps is just coming across it for the very first time? What would you want that person to maybe take away from it? As I mentioned above, my work is crazy combo of different things: Eastern European folk art, nature, imaginary worlds, psychedelic landscapes, animals. I have worked hard on my own visual language, my own dictionary, and continue to do so. It is an ever expanding vocabulary that I hope will keep growing until the day I die. I always want people to feel like they have a sense of place, that they can feel good, even for just a brief moment in the day (which is actually a tall order for most people). I want people’s imagination to go crazy when they see one of my murals!

What are your favorite things to paint or draw in your works? I absolutely love painting animals. They are my top. And hands are right below that.

In your various works you often paint portraits of animals, hands, mythical creatures and the natural world. Tell us about your subjects and themes you explore in your works? I have fairly consistent imagery, but the conversations are always different. For instance, the children’s book I wrote and illustrated a few years ago, The Cosmic Child, was actually about Plato’s Cosmology and the idea that we have a twin star in the universe. It was a book about never feeling alone. I like taking my simple imagery and combining it with complicated stories. It adds a layer of honesty and vulnerability. I am currently working on a new book about climate change, that will consist of 50 animal portraits. I decided that instead of trying to explain why climate change is such an important issue, I am using the idea of irreversible loss to describe what is might feel like to loose entire species. Visual art is so interesting because you don’t often get the back-story about why someone has made what they have made, but you can usually feel the emotion behind it. That to me is really successful, thoughtful work.

When your working developing a new painting or piece, how does it begin - take us from sketchbook, to color choices, to finished painting? I an an avid sketchbook user, and I tend to try and do as many drawings as possible, with no specific direction. It take the pressure off of things having to be ‘something’ and keeps things really interesting. When I’m ready to work on a body, I look back over the sketchbooks to see if there is a connection to any of the drawings. Sometimes I go back to sketchbooks from 5 years ago! Sometimes entire sketchbooks become dedicated to one idea. This process allows for a very organic build of my paintings. I am almost always looking at animal references, old quilts and folk art, and reading about magic symbols and the universe. All of my paintings and murals come from my sketchbooks, and are often repainted over and over again in different ways or patterns. I like exploring how many times I can do a single image and make it look unique. My color palette is fairly consistent, and I will push on darker or lighter themes (navy blues vs pastels), depending on what the mood I’m working with is. I like painting on antique papers and things that already have energy living in them, and my colors will be based off of the color of the papers. Mural walls are treated similarly, where I’m often trying to preserve and enhance the architecture of the building. I generally try and tie in my murals with something local, like an animal that is native, a myth about the city, the state flower, etc. It’s really fun and usually feels like some kind of treasure map where I’m unearthing weird facts about the places I paint.

What’s a typical day in the studio for you like? And what are you currently working on in or out of the studio? I try and keep regular day hours as often as possible in my studio, because if I don’t I sorta become a vampire who stays up all night and sleeps all day. I bring Robert Plant, my kitty, with me and he’s always around when I’m working. Sometimes I have to ‘clean’ all day long in order to actually get to painting. Sometimes I have to organize and move things around, or do other weird stuff, in order to get things going. It all depends on my mood. I just wrapped a bunch of paintings for my last show at KP Projects in Los Angeles, and that particular body of work will continue for a while. It’s mostly portraits of animals that are extinct or close to extinction, and ties into my book as well. I am always working on mural concepts, and there are tons of drawings and sketches on my walls that may or may not turn into murals. I also quilt sometimes and love to sew, especially when I am not feeling very inspired to paint. Murals and other public work can be fairly demanding, and quilting helps me to recoup when I have wrapped a big project and need to take a little break from painting.

How do you unplug yourself so to speak? What do you do to center or re-focus yourself if you find yourself stressed out about deadlines, art shows, and the sort? It’s definitely challenging, especially when you live in such a wild city like Los Angeles. I am so grateful to have a property in the desert, and I will often go out there for a few days to unplug and just be in the quiet. The stars are amazing, and laying on my deck and staring up at the sky does wonders for my brain. I also love to ride my bike and will sometimes go out on night rides, which tends to help me refocus and feel like I’m back in my body. When I have time, surfing is the absolute best! Painting, especially big things, takes you out of your physical body and puts you in a deep space of meditation. You are usually on a large lift, far away from anyone, concentrating but also kinda in a trance. You don’t really feel much of anything. When you finish a large project, you feel everything come back into you, and it can be overwhelming and exhausting. It’s imparitive that you find outlets that really help you to keep going at a healthy pace without getting to rundown.

What inspires you and your art? What are things that influence what you do and what you make? My imagination keeps me really busy, but reading Popular Science, going to libraries and book stores, walking in neighborhoods that I’m unfamiliar with, and traveling to countries where I do not speak the language keep me filled with information. I love architecture and looking at buildings, I get obsessed with walls I want to paint and will sometimes drive by to visit them. Going out in nature and just listening to the trees speaking to each other is pretty amazing.

Not only do you create painting, but you have been doing large scale mural works for quite a bit. How did that start and how different is it for you compared to works on paper or canvas? What do you like about muraling and what do you find to be the most challenging part of it? I lived in the Bay Area for a long time (well over a decade) and space was always an issue. I loved painting big, but hated trying to store anything after I was finished. I would also get fairly lonely working in my studio for long hours, and liked interaction, but a very specific kinds. Public art and mural painting solved a lot of these problems. I could paint HUGE and leave it, walk away, never look at it again. It was a freedom that I loved, and the very special was to interact with people and neighborhoods. At the time, it was so unique and didn’t compare to anything I had ever done. This was a long time ago, and I still feel exactly the same way. There is no better way to understand a community, a city, a neighborhood, then painting outside and really being a part of it. And people are so happy and grateful that you are adding something beautiful to their neighborhood. I also love that murals are free for people to look at, and so many demographics are affected by the work. You never know who will see it and be inspired. It’s powerful and humbling at the same time, mostly because the work is incredibly physical. It sometimes feels like you are running a marathon, painting for 12-15 hours a day, dealing with weather and trouble-shooting all kinds of strange things that can happen with different kinds of walls. I love big boom lifts, dancing and singing when I am way up high with my headphones on. I have such a great time when I am painting a monster wall in the sun! I can’t stand painting in the cold ;)

What’s been one of your most rewarding projects? And what kind of challenges did you face and how did you overcome them? This past year I was invited by the United Nations to paint a mural in Mexico City on climate change. It was amazing! I painted at the largest market in Mexico, and it was nuts. So much going on around me, so much pollution mixed with sun blasting a huge wall for more than half the day. I loved it, but it was also pretty crazy.

Since we call this feature, Art School, what tip do you have for artists and folks interested in becoming an artist? Work hard, harder than you ever thought you could work, but also work smart. You have a very long career, and lots of time to develop your own style and really build your craft. There is no rush, and your work will be that much better if you take the time to really develop who you are as an artist. Also, ask for help. Reach out to other artists and see if they need help. Be an active community member and don’t isolate yourself too much in the studio. Have fun! Travel the world ;)

Who are some important artists, past or present, you are inspired by? Remedios Varo Johannes Vermeer Louise Bourgeois Antoni Gaudi Shel Silverstein

So we gotta ask what are your FAVORITE Vans? The Era.

What do you have planned for the coming up? What are you looking forward to starting? Mural season is in full-swing, and it’s going to get really busy, with murals everything month until the end of the year. I am working super hard on my climate change book, and putting together a few projects that will tie in with that project. (and maybe a book tour). I continue to build up my desert property, and love that I can put energy into it slowly and really make it a life-long art project. I am working on expanding my mural practice into 3D objects, mosaics tiles, furniture and playgrounds. My murals are only one part of a much larger puzzle that I am putting together, and soon you will get to see entire worlds built by me. It’s an exciting time!!

FOLLOW BUNNIE | WEBSITE | INSTAGRAM

#Art #Vans #Vans Art #Art School #Interview #Bunnie Reiss #painting #muralist #mural #female artist #creativity #inspiration

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elparaisodeminseok · 6 years

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Talent and Hobbies Tag

I was tagged by two very lovely and amazing vocalist @ilovexiusoo and @kokokysoo (rhi tagged me to my main @almostparadis but I ended up drafting it to this side oops) to do the talents and hobbies tag. I’m an artist™.

I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember it’s my only talent and redeemable quality. Fun fact as a Junior and Senior in high school I was in what is called the IB Art program which is basically college level lessons and I absolutely hated having to write about my pieces at the end of every quarter but then I went to an art university and did the exact same thing I’m so ://// (Who wants to see a clip of the video I had to submit for the IB art program?)

Nobody asked but I have a total of 13 sketchbooks in a variety of sizes and for different media.

Nobody asked but I don’t have enough room for all of my art supplies.

Nobody asked but my 3 yr old niece likes it when I draw what she asks :33 she also likes it when I color in her coloring books using the colors she chooses, she has a purple Elsa bc she likes purple, Elsa’s skin is purple lol.

Adding to my list of things nobody asked I have a couple more paintings/drawings on my Instagram that I do not update that frequently.

Still life a painting or drawing of an arrangement of objects, typically including fruit and flowers and objects contrasting with these in texture, such as bowls and glassware.

the pieces and media used:

First one top is drawn in oil pastels and it’s an experiment using china markers, china as in the fancy ceramic not the country, it’s a still life. I believe this one is 2013.

It’s just a sketch using graphite of an eye my most recent piece among these images from earlier this month before I got busy painting this thing for my nieces 3rd birthday party.

Third one on the top is a sectioned off still life drawn in pen, pencil and sharpie/marker, also from 2012.

First one 2nd row is Dry point etching. It’s a form of printmaking by engraving your design on a piece of glass/plastic then rubbing the paint onto the engraving then you get a damp piece of paper and roll it with the printing press. I did this one in 2012 I was a junior in high school.

Second one 2nd row is a still life using charcoal. from 2015.

First one 3rd row is a print out I had to do the shading using a pencil or a black prismacolor (an expensive color pencil amazing quality though :’)) this is why I’m broke). from 2015.

Second one 3rd row a still life of a white sheet done in charcoal I had too have a sheet pinned to my wall for 3 months!! from 2015

Third one 3rd row is soft pastels on a grey charcoal/pastel paper. from 2014.

the last one is a two point perspective pen duplicate of my actual room at the time. from 2015.

Share your hobbies, talents or things you do for fun with words or picture/videos. If you can’t think of anything, post something you love, something that makes you happy or a fun fact about yourself.

#if you understand my signature pls pretend you don't #and do us all a favor and don't google it #long post #the shapes used specifically for drawing are so expensive #sorry you have to scroll through all of that #none of them are named bc kjalhfiue #to much of a responsibility and i'm a libra you can't expect me to make a decision #oh.. I've also done a few digital drawings but my tablet it dead so :///#Talents and Hobies tag #jackie.post

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mippippippi · 6 years

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@Jajs SQ SUPERNOVA 2 ARTIST INTERVIEW

Interview with @Jajs and her work for Evening the Score aka Let You In

What is your favorite medium to work with?

Ooh! I love so many mediums, I don’t really have a *favorite* favorite, but regular old mechanical pencils and fancy bristled brush pen are my drawing go-tos. I always enjoy working digitally on my cheap little Wacom Bamboo tablet. Recently I succumbed to my mom’s insistence that i’m a decent painter (historically I hate painting), so I’ve been doing some satisfying work with acrylics lately. There’s nothing better than silk for ice dyeing. Also I’m a floral designer, so flowers, of course!

How do you choose the story? Do you look for something in particular, like a visual, for your art or is your choice based on the story itself ?

For illustration, I make notes of potential scenes as I read through a story. I always read through the entire story, and then revisit/reread my marked passages, before I decide what I want to focus in on. I always choose passages/scenes that spark a particularly striking image in my head—usually something compositional concernign the characters. Colors generally come later, once i’ve started drawing, though I always know the overall mood of a piece from the beginning.

What did the story make you see that you decided to create this particular piece? Was it a particular feeling/mood or scene?

*waggles eyebrows suggestively* Really, truly, honestly, I’ve been wanting to draw something properly smutty for this big bang challenge since it started. Jaye made my dream come truuue! Would love to draw some more next time, just saaayiiiing!

Do you have any particular steps when you are making art?

mood/composition->layout sketches->”this is going to be awesome”->finalize layout->gather reference images->detailed sketch of each character in separate layers->existential crisis->final line drawing->existential crisis part 2->flat colors->shading/highlights->”this is terrible”->fuss with line work->fuss with colors->”okay yeah this is why you won an award that one time”->it’s done!->show everyone I know->crave validation even more than usual->upload piece to Internet->”PRAISE MEEE”->panic->get reviews->”oh thank goodness”

What is your preferred working atmosphere? Do you have a certain ritual? (e.g. : Like listening to a particular song/album or do you prefer silence, or do you prefer working at night) What did you do to get yourself in the creative mood?

I usually listen to a very very short playlist or a single song on repeat, often for the duration of a project, even when i’m not working on it. I’ll listen to the song when i’m working, when i’m driving, when i’m cooking dinner, often for at least a few days!

What is the most difficult part of doing art for a written text? What are challenges you face in your work process?

Worrying about wether or not People On The Internet will like it. My challenges are generally of my own making: depression-induced poor time management and extreme procrastination #hotmess

Tell us something about yourself (e.g. your darkest secrets are preferable but a funny fact will do too) ?

Something about me: I’m really into ~fun pants~ right now as my wardrobe signature—currently wearing slate blue velveteen capris that show off my calves/leg hair/ankles. Funny Fact: I drew furry porn for money one summer during college? $$$$ Darkest Secret: I’m a big dyke but I’VE NEVER SEEN THE L WORD. WILL THE LESBIAN COMMUNITY EVER TRULY ACCEPT ME?? (yes but my girlfriend says I still have to watch it eventually)

#sqsn spotlights: artist interview #sqsn spotlights: let you in #swan queen

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dem-obscure-imagines · 7 years

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Not Normal

Warren Peace x Reader

Not Normal

Prompt: PLEASE write a warren peace imagine!! If you need an idea you could make it about a normal girl who goes the paper lantern a lot and falls for him, and how that relationship would work. But im dying so anything is fine!

Note: I’m in love with Warren Peace. This is a fact.

Warnings: Swears.

Word Count: 928

School had not been kind to you. It wasn’t that you hated school. You didn’t mind it all that much. But it was the people in it that were a pain in the ass. The Preps had everything they wanted and never had to work a day in their lives. The Athletes were practically royalty that felt entitled to basically the entire school budget.

And then there were the Art kids, like you, who spent their days in the art wing painting, sculpting, singing, and playing their days away while everyone else bathed in the spotlight.

Your sketchbook was your pride and joy, and anyone who knew you knew that. Well, they knew that and that the Paper Lantern was pretty much your second home. Not that you really knew the people there. Yet. But you were in there enough, working on your sketches, chatting with friends, and trying not to melt at the sight of the handsome server.

Today, you were there alone, sketching some flowers when he came to the table.

“You again.”

“Yep.”

“Anything I can get you to start off with?”

“Cherry Coke?”

“Coming right up.” He walked back to the kitchen, and you finally let your eyes leave your paper, watching as he left. God, he was handsome. His arms were toned and his black hair was pulled back away from his intense features. It took every bone in your body to resist sketching him then and there.

It wasn’t long before he came back to the table and set the Cherry Coke in front of you. After you had ordered, Warren looked around the mostly empty restaurant before pulling up a chair beside you.

“What are you working on?”

“Just some sketches for fun.”

“That’s actually really good.” He looked over the flowers you had drawn. “You’ve got some real talent there.”

“Thanks,” you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. “I don’t think I actually know your name.”

“Warren,” he offered his hand.

“(Y/N).”

His warm eyes locked onto yours and a soft sort of smile tugged at his lips.

“Have I seen you around school before? You seem like super familiar. Like someone I pass in the halls all the time maybe?”

“I doubt it. I go to…private school.”

“Oh, neat.”

“I’ll see you around, Picasso. I should probably do my job for once.”

You couldn’t help but grin at his nickname for you. “See ya.”

***

Warren tried not to fall for you, but he knew he was already falling. Hard. It was only a matter of time before he asked you out. And so when he finally did and the day of the first date finally rolled around, he was almost blown away by the sight of you. You were all dressed up, and for the first time in his life, it was all for him.

“You look…really nice.” He cursed himself for hesitating, but you had rendered him nearly speechless. Maybe this polo shirt was cutting circulation to his brain.

“So do you,” you reached out for his hand and he gladly slipped it into yours. God, his hands were warm. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The date went well. The movie you had settled on was a RomCom. Cute and cheesy, and actually pretty funny. Warren took you home, and then he went home and he found himself staring at his ceiling. He was in love with you. In LOVE. And this left a very big problem:

You didn’t know he had superpowers.

Someday, he would be a superhero and you had no idea about it. You had no clue that his “private school” was actually Sky High, a school for the children of the world’s best world-savers.

He was terrified that this secret would send everything crashing down.

***

It was a nice afternoon when Warren finally told you. You were watching the sunset and counting your blessings as the love of your life wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. He was crying and you didn’t know why.

“Warr, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything, I promise. Babe, why are you crying?”

He pulled away to look at your face, eyes searching yours for a long moment before letting out a long sigh.

“I’m not normal.”

“I know.” You spoke softly. His eyes widened and he visibly stiffened. “Warren, I know about your powers. I’ve known since before we were together.”

“H-how did you-”

“Not everyone can light a candle with their fingertip.”

The tears were falling faster now. You reached up to wipe them away.

“Warr, it doesn’t change anything. I love you. I love everything about you. I’m not scared of you or what you’re capable of. Just let me love you, okay?”

He was silent for a few moments, staring at you with a mix of relief and pain in his eyes. This boy had been through so much. His father was in prison, his mother had put him there, and everyone at Sky High was secretly waiting for him to crack under the pressure of being the child of a villain. And yet here you were with nothing but love in your eyes, a gentle reassuring smile painted across your features.

His arms were around you pretty quickly after that, face buried in the fabric of your sweater.

“I love you.” He mumbled. You pulled him as close as possible, holding him as tightly as you could. “I love you so much…”

“I love you too, babe.”

#warren peace #warren peace imagine #warren peace x reader #warren #warren imagine #warren x reader #sky high #sky high imagine

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chanzicoup · 7 years

Text

“Blindsided” (VIXX N x Reader Imagine)

A/N: This was suppoed to be something more but I ran out of ideas :p

Count: 2.6k

Genre: Angst???

~Blake

You were a good girl despite being from a rich family. Many people expected you to be spoiled rotten or to wear designer clothes and have an attitude but that was far opposite from the real you. No one expected you to volunteer at the hospital or at orphanages. No one thought you had just graduated at the top of your class back when you went to Harvard University last Spring. No one knew you wanted to be an artist. No one took the time to get to know the real you but they had all the time to judge you and the make their own view of who you were. You guess that's why you never really dated, no one would want to put effort into the relationship when you would be putting your all into it.

One of those judgmental people was Cha Hakyeon, who wanted to be known as N. He made it big in his music group VIXX and left his home for training. Both of his parents were close friends with yours so that meant when you were children you'd be forced to play with each other. You were also forced into the same high school classes and even some extra curricular activities like tennis most rich kids found fun. Those types of things never excited N so he always ditched practice to spend his time in the music room. You never dared to snitch on him because you didn't want to give him a reason to hate you. He was the closest thing you had to a friend.

All the popular girls at school tried to be friends with you but you quickly learned that they were the exact people others assumed you were. Mean and snobby. They picked on the other kids and then turned on you when you stopped talking to them. This also led to rumors about you thinking you were too good and better than everyone. All the popular boys just wanted you for your body, which was in good shape thanks to tennis, something you actually enjoyed. You hated your life that was already planned for you but didn't have the power to fight it.

Your life at home wasn't much better either. Your parents were too busy running their handbag company to pay much attention to you so they hired nannies to raise you through your most precious years. You often wondered why you were born if they didn't want you. Whenever you talk to them it feels more like a business deal than a normal conversation between mother and daughter or father and daughter. N's family ran a very successful company that was so well off they hired people to do work for them and this allowed them to have most of their time dedicated to N. You were always jealous but never made any indication of it. Instead you did whatever your parents told you in hopes of getting their love in return.

When the day came that your parents invited N and his family over you had no say in the matter. You mother only peaked her head through your door that morning to tell you there'd be guests over for dinner and that you had to dress accordingly, which translated to "wear your most elegant attire" in understandable words. That was about eight o'clock this morning and at the time you were in the middle of painting a cherry blossom tree in a grass field. You mother would've thrown a fit if she saw what you were doing so after she left you put all of your tools and colors in their respected containers and hid the still wet painting in your bathroom, the only room people asked for permission to enter. It was better to continue later when you thought it was safe, usually when your mother speaks to you once she'll nag until she's satisfied.

Dinner is always at five o'clock. It has been for the whole 25 years of your life, soon 26. To be exact you have 31 days until your birthday. You remember something from years ago, something your parents had scolded you about. Was it finding a husband? If it was then they would've said it on more than one occasion. It was the day you were packing for Harvard, you were keeping yourself from crying because you could not bring your paints with you. You managed to smuggle a sketch book into your luggage before your parents gave their farewell speech that consisted of, "study hard and be successful." Not once did they say, "We love you," or "Be safe!" or even a "Call us when you land!" Did they mention something about meeting someone somewhere in between? You couldn't recall, after all that was nearly 8 years ago. You were only 18 at the time, your parents "encouraged" you to go to college with out taking the summer after high school off. Talk about overload.

You sit at your table that was pristine white despite the amount of times you've spilled watercolor on it. In fact your entire room was as white as a blank canvas. It was the only color your parents enforced upon you, such a needy color, wanting to be decorated with every shade of every pigment. But no, for creativity creates less room for knowledge. The bed in your room was bigger then you needed it to be, the desk was smaller then your door, and your walls were untouched by your creative ability. Whenever you did make anything you'd sell it immediately and give the money to a charity, it was all you could do without your parents approval, therefore they would never know unless you slipped up. You were in no need of extra cash when your family controls your life to the last point. On your table there were minimal items, your journal, an old math textbook you've solved all the formulas in, and a single pencil. Your journal held the words you were never allowed to say. Your math book was something you've had since you were little. You'd gotten it as a present from one of the staff that work in your home. She said to you, "A smart girl should start smart." And you've lived up to those words everyday since then. You were five or six when the book was gifted to you but the material inside of it was college level. On your free time you'd investigate the equations to find an answer, you've always loved math because it helped you solve problems through a series of steps, there was always an answer no matter how difficult things might seem. And the pencil was obviously well used. The eraser was almost nonexistent and the length of the wood was halved over and over from the amount of times it's been used, sharpened, and used again. You should really replace that pencil with the ones in your desk drawer and throw it away, but that wouldn't be fair to trash something that still has use, even if there's not much left of it. It's not right to discard something with full potential.

Until four o'clock you sat at your desk with your books, not once getting a headache from the constant writing or calculating, it was a past time you were allowed to do without your parents becoming angry. Your mother came in to check on your preparations and was aggravated that you were still in casual wear. Before she could shout you apologized and went to your closet. She closed your door to leave you be thankfully and you pulled out a rose gold dress, a black one, and then a blue on. All of which will be perfect for a dinner in your household, but which should you wear? The rose gold was plain but can be elegant with the help of accessories. Were you in the mood for readjusting bracelets all through out the meal? Not entirely, back in the closet it goes. The blue dress was long and dark. It had a flower like pattern that covered it and fixated around your arms to act as sleeves. Wasn't it getting hotter outside because of the change of the seasons? The black dress was at knee length and had no sleeves, cancelling out the fact that the dark color will bring in more sunlight and heat. It was elegant on it's own with out the help of bulky jewels and was revealing enough at the same time to keep my body temperate. Perfect choice. I put the blue dress back and changed out of my leggings and blouse into the chic material. I paired the dress with pumps of the same color and a gold necklace my late grandmother gifted me before her passing. It had my birthstone as it's charm.

"Emmabell! The guests will be arriving shortly! Are you ready?" You heard your mother announce from the other side of your bedroom door. You only had to fix your make up and do your hair so a little white lie shouldn't shake her up.

"Yes mother, I'll be down shortly!" You rushed to the bathroom to loosely curl your jet black hair that was about the same axis as your shoulders when it's finished. You went for light colors of eye shadow and naturalistic colors for your face. All your mother would've wanted was for you to cover the oh so few freckles and acne scares you've accumulated through the years so you did the bare minimum to make sure they were covered. She wants everything to be perfect at every possible moment. When you were completely ready you plugged your phone into the charger before leaving so when you were excused to go to bed you can listen to music with out worry before slumber took over.

"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Cha! What a blessing to see you after so many years!" You heard your mother's feigned cheeriness from the top of the stairs and took it as your cue to make your appearance. You smiled at the guests and hesitated when you saw one that was familiar in an unfriendly way.

"And this must be your son, Hakyeon!" He's gotten taller since the last time you have seen him. High school graduation less than ten years ago.

"Good evening." He smiled and shook your parents hands.

"This is our daughter, Emmabell." You father gestured to you and you smiled once more.

"Hello." You greeted.

"Oh my, dear you've grown so much!" Mrs. Cha exclaimed as she came in for a hug. She's always someone you've seen as a second mother but never actually confined in, mainly because it was a rarity you'd see her. You were also deathly afraid of Mr. Cha because he reminded you of your own father. He could be the nicest man on Earth and you wouldn't know. Men with money could be dangerous because they might think they're capable of escaping punishment with the waft of a wallet.

"Shall we sit for dinner?" Your mother questioned. You had no idea why she started acting so suspicious but you went with her plan nonetheless and sat down at your father's right side, your mother on his left. In front of you sat N, who stared intensely at you for a reason you were unsure of. This was just a dinner, correct?

The chef's brought out the meal and you ate very little. An uneasy feeling caused you to loose your appetite; you simply picked you your food while the sets of parents conversed with each other. Whenever you were directed a question your mother couldn't answer you would politely and honestly give your part until you got quiet again.

"Hakyeon is just a few weeks older than Emmabell isn't he?" Your mother asked as she sipped from her wine glass. Receiving a cheerful "yes" from N's parents, a silence took over the table, as if they were beating around the bush. It was until your father said the words, "Let's get down to business." And apparently you weren't the only one that was caught by surprise. N was as in a daze as you were.

"We brought you two here to discuss something of the utmost importance." Said Mr. Cha to N and you, "we have agreed to merge our companies together by marriage."

"An arranged marriage of Hakyeon and you, Emmabell." Your mother summarized before taking another sip of red whine.

An arranged marriage? Was this something your parents thought of you, their daughter needed the help of someone else to run the business. You were fully capable of being independent and without a man in your life. Was this all the faith they had in you to succeed? You would've choked on your food if you had any in your mouth, unfortunately for N he was midbite when his father announced the news.

"Excuse me?" He asked when he gathered up himself again.

"You heard me. Your mother and I told you before you needed to find a wife before you could take over the business. We gave you time to choose your bride, now time's ticking and we have no other choice." His father's words pierced sharply through the air and you froze in your seat, your parents had given you the same choice and now it's too late. You weren't sure you could snake out of this one.

"But why should we merge with them?! Our company is running smoothly!" N defended his opinion on the marriage, but you couldn't help but be a little offended. Was he saying his family was better than yours?

"And ours isn't?" You snipped, your polite voice only emphasizing your annoyance. Your father nudged your leg under the table, his way of telling you to cool off. You weren't going to listen tonight, you'll apologize later but for now you aren't going to allow some dirt bag to mock your family's craft.

"Well thankfully I wasn't the one to say it."

"What we mean is," N's mother spoke up "If we merge companies by marriage it'll be a legal way to increase sales and overall production."

What if you rejected? Lied and said you found a man while you were studying and hadn't told your parents about him yet. That would only buy you time, and you knew you'd never fall in love before your parents had to force a ring on your finger. Apparently you weren't the only party that wasn't excited about the predicament. You could see from the spot you were sitting in that N wasn't all that happy to be your husband, he probably hated you the most. You couldn't see his hands or anything past the table but you'd have to be stupid to not know that he was clenching his fists right now, out of sight out of mind.

"We will give you two time of course. To make up for lost time." Your mother said after another sip of wine.

Since you really had nothing else to say, anything that'll make a difference that is, you kept quiet again and barely picked at your food. The news has ruined your appetite. N had given you a face, one that shouted "Say something moron!" but you ignored it. He sighed and thought of ways to get out of this. Knowing his parents they'd make him go all out and actually tolerate the woman they had set him up with. They would want them to live in a house paid for with their money and grandchildren in return for all of their hard work making wedding plans. N wasn't even warned like you were, if he had known before he would've took the chance to get with someone who had his heart, not some girl he's known forever.

#kpop #vixx #vixx n #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpopficscommunity #vixx imagine #vixx scenario

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reticexce · 7 years

Text

RETICEXCE’S RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name: birdie OOC Contact: instant messenger and asks ( bc im always on mobile ) or sky.pe and k.ik, if we’re close mutuals

Who the heck is are my muse muses anyway:

alison clair: a fashion designer who used to be a prostitute and has experienced various toxic relationships in her life and still feels the effects of them even now ( self-hate, think she’s inadequate, thinks the toxic relationships are her fault in a way ). has lots of love to give, very creative and artsy, wears a lot of pastel colors and can probably make you an entire outfit if you ask her nicely.

emile clair: ali’s twin brother ( he’s older! ) who is an overgrown boy scout but can’t go outside as much as he wants because he has an office job ( legal aid ). has a soft spot for plants, hates the other two male muses on this blog, awkward af around attractive people, hella gay but has been hiding this fact about himself for years and has only recently come to terms with it ( sort of ).

cedric privett: alison’s first boyfriend in high school; wealthy and sort of bratty but lives more humbly than people might think. is best friends with nate and teased emile for being gay in high school. verbally abusive to alison in high school. is currently a bartender who reads a lot and has to deal with drunken fights at his bar more often than he likes. will probably flirt with you muse a lot.

nate cain: a terrible person. ali’s second “boyfriend” in high school. took advantage of her in high school and her virginity. physically abused her and verbally abused emile for being gay. hates his parents because they treated him like shit and was in foster homes all of his childhood and early teen years. has bipolar II disorder. is currently djing for money and has a fucked up sleep cycle.

Points of interest:

alison: is super nice and bubbly, loves cats and flowers, wears mostly pink, will scrapbook and take a lot of photos, will probably love your muse or grow really attached , can be super self conscious about silly things, pls take care of her.

emile: will probably invite your muse to go hiking or bird watching, loves the rain and succulents, stutters a lot when talking to strangers and does embarrassing things, is tol and can help your muse reach stuff.

cedric: sarcastic, speaks in a proper manner, dresses like he’s all that because he can afford nice clothes, has read lots of books, will judge you on your drink choices, always looks like he’s making bedroom eyes at you probably, is fake af

nate: looks done 97% of the time with life, replies in short sentences and in a monotonous tone, looks tired, probably never awake when you are, makes great music though and will call you out if he thinks you listen to trash, curses a lot

What they’ve been up to recently:

alison: living day to day and trying to recover from her past. picking up a lot of hobbies and trying to keep herself busy and healthy ( though she could always use some extra help with the healthy part ). has just been assigned to work on a new fashion line with her aunt ( who owns the company ali works for ) so that’s been keeping her real busy.

emile: trying to not hate his job but it’s not working but at least his cat keeps him happy. trying to also come out of his shell more and get into the dating scene but that’s also not working as well. he’s learned a few new knots though so that’s pretty cool.

cedric: not on the best terms with his parents but he’s gotta deal with them anyway, is co-owner of a popular bar, is trying not to remember alison and had to deal with nate’s bullshit even more now since he’s back in town

nate: finally freed from high school and has taken a few college classes online but nothing to get a degree. really focused on making music with other collaborators and is hella enjoying the launchpad he got himself a few years ago. internally denies everything that’s happened with alison and is skipping out on therapy that he’s suppose to be going to for his condition

Where to find them:

alison: at her office, at cafes, at fashion shows or charity events, the bar, her apartment, the park

emile: in his office at his father’s law firm, outside in park, at the farmer’s market, in his apartment, at a cafe, rarely at the bar but you can try, at marathons bc this boy likes to run, at the train station bc this boy hates to drive and cares too much about the environment

cedric: at his bar ( the best place ), a bookstore, a restaurant or cafe, at his parents’ place, at a party his parents’ are throwing, at an office party he didn’t want to go to but got dragged into

nate: in bed, at a fast food place, at a night club or a strip club, at a bar probably getting into a fight, in an alley probably finishing that fight

Current plans:

alison: looking for more models for her clothes or for her photography hobby, sketching, trying to not skip meals, and trying to find her prince charming ( or someone to hook up with and make her feel useful and safe ). is thinking about going to school one day to become a nurse but that’ll have to wait when she has more money saved up.

emile: is also thinking about going back to school bc law is now the path for him but who knows what he’ll do ( he’s thinking history ). really determined to get back into the dating scene and meet cute people but social anxiety is an awful thing and he needs lots of patience to overcome it. really wants to get back into hiking

cedric: taking care of nate, trying to please his parents but also trying to piss them off at the same time by having more hookups, is pretty happy with where he is in life though taking care of nate can be real draining

nate: live through the self hatred and make music to keep himself sane, currently in a stable relationship with someone so that’s always exciting. he doesn’t really do much, but he’s living so that’s good for him

Desired interactions:

alison: more toxic relationships bc she always seems to attract people that aren’t so good for her, and i like to cause her pain, old clients or new ones since she does have a harlot verse, gal pals are the best, and ?? really difficult people?? i’ve always wanted to see how alison handles difficult people. oh and one night stands bc a girl has needs

emile: more dates, emile crushing really hard on a male muse and it’s possibly unrequited or emile just hasn’t had the guts to tell your muse yet and one day he just blurts it out, someone teaching emile how to kiss or hike up his flirting game

cedric: be his friend and bitch about things with him, try to be his sugar baby and see how far it takes you, call him out for being so fake

nate: former one night stand coming back and trying to get involved in nate’s life even though he has a gf, someone nate got in a fight with recognizing him and trying to get a rematch, roommates au tbh

Offered interactions:

alison: is super helpful and nice so she’s always willing to help your muse out or keep them company at like a bus stop or something. known to strike up random conversations. will offer to help fix a hole in your muse’s clothes if it ever happens ( like a wardrobe malfunction ). likes to try new foods and see new things so invite her out and have fun!!

emile: will tell you lots of stuff about his plants if you ask ( or just nature in general ), is really good at painting and wouldn’t mind helping you impress someone you like by painting you a picture and selling it to you, has really good taste in coffee and can help you find the right brew, will let you pet his cat if you’re sad.

cedric: he’s pretty good at telling when people have had too much so he’ll shut you down real quick if you ask and he’s certain you’re shitfaced, he has a lot of good recommendations when it comes to books, he probably won’t remember you if you told him you guys slept together but you can always remind him

nate: lmao nate never wants to come out but if you’re looking for a fight or wants someone to play video games with nate is your man

Current open post/s:

open tag is here!! mutuals only please.

Anything else?:

hi a shy bean in central time zone. i love multiple thread with the same person and i dont mind if you send me ten memes, love me

Tagged by: @tiivadvabadust ( indirectly! ) Tagging: idk man this was a long thing to fill out bc i had so many muses if you wanna do it then go for it and lemme see!! i would love to see!!

#long post #outofribbons

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hekate1308 · 7 years

Text

Home Base

Part of my Season 12 Destiel AU. Enjoy!

To say his life has significantly improved, Dean things waking up next to Cas one morning, would be an understatement.

He smiles and snuggles closer to his boyfriend – no harm in morning cuddles – when he suddenly realizes things feel... off.

Not bad. Just... off.

And as soon as he raises his head, he knows why.

This is not the cheap motel room they went to sleep in.

The furniture is way too expensive, it’s light and airy, and is that a freaking lake he can see outside?

He sits up abruptly, causing Cas to grumble in protest.

“Cas – wake up!”

His lover shoots up from the bed, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings.

“This is not our room” he states.

Dean nods as he calls Sam.

Despite everything, he smiles when he hears his brother sleepily grumble “Dean?” The little nerd likes to sleep in these days, too.

Sam immediately becomes more aware.

“What – where are we?”

“So I take it you’re not at the motel anymore either.”

“No, I – is that a lake?”

“My thoughts exactly” Dean breathes.

“We seem to be in the same house” Cas says, having stepped up to him to listen to their conversation.

That’s something, at least.

“Alright Sammy, best we try and find each other.”

“My duffle bag’s here” Sam tells him.

“Ours are too” Cas points out.

They’re not without weapons then. Good.

They arm themselves with guns and silver knives before exiting the room they found themselves in.

Dean almost takes a step back in surprise when the door next to theirs opens and Sam comes out, looking as good as he did yesterday.

“Gotta say, if this is some evil scheme, it’s starting off really nicely.”

“We do not appear to have been drugged” Cas muses. “So whatever brought us here, they must be strong.”

He nods.

Their best way to search this place quickly – how huge is it, anyway? The corridors go on forever – is to split up, despite his ingrained instincts not to let his little brother or anyone else he loves out of his isght.

“Be careful” he instructs them both, pressing a quick kiss on Cas’ lips and clasping Sam’s shoulder before ducking into the next corridors.

Stairs. Taht’s something, at least.

He makes his way downstairs.

And this, right there? It’s a freaking entrance hall with marble.

It all looks nice enough, he supposes. Expensive. Like someone wanted to show off and be comfortable at the same time.

He hears movement in a room to his right and makes his way there, weapon ready.

What he didn’t expect was Crowley sitting in another huge room next to a pool table, leafing through a book while sipping his usual glass of Craig.

“Crowley?”

He looks up.

“Squirell. How do you like the new home base?”

“Home base? Where are we?”

“Massachusetts.”

“Why?”

Crowley shrugs.

“As good a place as any.”

“So and this is...”

“Like I said – new home base. You let me deal with the more psychopathic of the British invasion army, and it was certainly a lot of fun” Dean probably shouldn’t enjoy hearing that as much as he does, but Ketch has done nothing to incite his sympathy or pity in any way, shape or form, and he can’t bring himself to worry much about it “but it also means their little club is up in arms, so I thought you might want to have safe quarters.”

“So you... built us a mansion.”

“There was a dilapidated structure that might once have been a house. I only added to it.”

Dean takes out his phone and sends Sam and Cas texts to join them.

They both arrive quickly, Cas a bit quicker than his brother.

“Aw, Cassie, don’t worry, your toy boy is as safe as ever.”

He shoots him a somewhat disgruntled look that’s still not without a certain fondness – that’s how crazy their life has gotten, and Dean wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Have you seen the library yet?” Crowely asks Dean just as Sam stumbles in.

“Nah. Good stuff?”

“Remember when you powered down the wards of the bunker so I could get in while we were dealing with Amara?”

He does. And he also remembers not putting them up again because – well because even back then, he and Crowley were barely enemies.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for that. I made sure to get anything the Men of Letters could use.”

“Thank you” he says honestly.

“I also made sure you had your beloved “memory foam” in case you felt like complaining about your back again – and your personal effects are in boxes in the dining room.”

Oh. He hasn’t thought about the things he used to decorate his room with in months. Sounds nice, though; Cas can get some stuff of his own, too –

Sam clears his throat.

“Do you have your own room?”

It occurs to Dean that he just thought of that as a given. Crowley hates Hell, and now that Lucifer has been dealt with, he has even less of a reason to hang out there, apart from short visits to make sure the demons are still behaving.

But for Sam to ask – that’s actually a pretty big step, now that he thinks about it.

Cas’ hand slips into his.

“As a matter of fact, yes. Now, in case you have – “

“Good.”

It’s the first time he’s seen Crowley speechless since Cain literally took his voice away.

They spent the rest of the day exploring their new home. Give it to Crowley, he really thought of everything, and it’s all brand new, nothing outdated like in the bunker.

There’s even a garage for his baby – next to the dungeon because, well, it’s Crowley. Nice he even included that in the first place considering their history with it.

As Dean and Cas soon find out, the water pressure in the showers is fantastic.

Plus, Crowley hasn’t just filled the library with the lore of their ancestors, but several works they love – at first glance, Dean sees the complete works of Vonnegut and Asimov. Jackpot.

And, okay, maybe Jane Austen is there too. Damn demon knows him too well.

And that kitchen.

“We’re going to have pancakes every day from now on” he announces, looking over the new equipment.

“Dean” Sam interjects.

“Alright, you can get some omelette with spinach. Figure I can do that if I try.”

His brother shakes his head, but he’s smiling.

“Where’s Cas anyway?” he asks. “Did he need some rest after your...”

“Shower?” Dean prompts with a grin.

“Yes. That.”

But once again, there’s no fire nor true annoyance behind Sam’s words, as there might have been, once not too long ago.

As Dean walks back to his and Cas’ room – funny, back when he only allowed himself to dream of them in half-slumbers shortly before waking up at dawn, he often pictured them in his room in the bunker – Crowley appears in front of him.

Naturally, we are still too important to walk.

“I wasn’t sure if I should put these in your boxes as well” he says, holding out a few pictures.

Dean knows them. The ones he left behind the day he turned his back on the bunker and their legacy, preferring to make his own path.

Their own path.

After reconsidering the pictures, he takes those of him and Sam.

“That’s all I need”.

Crowley understands and vanishes with the rest.

Idly, Dean wonders what Mary is thinking now, in the empty bunker. She might not have noticed their absence much, but the knowledge and weapons the Men of Letters collected is valuable.

He’s not worried about them investigating the theft. Crowley certainly left no traces.

He expects to find Cas napping, but instead he’s –

He’s painting their walls.

There is already a whole forest stretching itself towards the lake, green leaves shining, sun kissing small flowers underneath –

“Cas” he breathes.

He knew Cas likes to draw, of course. Ever since Cas fell, he’s liked to have something to do with his fingers (in moments when they aren’t... otherwise occupied, that is) and it was Dean who bought himk his first notebook. Things only spiralled from there.

Cas has sketched almost everyone they knew at this point and once made him sit completely still for a whole evening because “I need to find the right shade of green for your eyes in that angle.”

“Dean!” he stands up so quickly Dean cringes in sympathy for his spine.

“I – this – I wanted to surprise you.” He fiddles his fingers in the late afternoon light coming in from the windows, his arms covered in paint, and Dean has never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Do you like it?”

“Like it? I freaking love it, man.”

He draws Cas into a deep kiss.

“Wait – You’ll get dirty – “

“You’ll have to clean me up, then” he whispers huskily.

“Why so much green?” he asks later, much later. He thinks it will be time for dinner soon, but he can’t be sure.

Cas is tracing patterns up and down his chest and he’s way too comfortable to move and find out.

“You know why.”

“Yeah” he says, blushing, “but why so little blue? Come on, this is our room...”

“You haven’t seen it, then?”

Dean frowns and looks at the forest again.

And he sees.

There’s blue everywhere, stronger and lighter shade mixed in with the green, until it becomes impossible to say which is which.

The message is pretty clear.

He attempts to pull Cas even closer. At the moment, he couldn’t care less about the Men of Letters.

When they enter the kitchen at eight pm, Crowley exclaims, “A miracle! We might get dinner after all.”

“You don’t need to it” Cas reminds him while Dean tells Sam, “You could have started dinner.”

“Your cooking is much better than mine” Sam says. “Always has been.”

Dean remembers another occasion, when Sam was surprised he even knew what a kitchen was, but dismisses the thought.

They have both changed a lot since then.

“Alright”.

Crowley has stocked the fridge full to the brim.

“What do you – “

“Burgers” Cas says immediately.

“Alright then, burgers with salad it is.”

Crowley groans.

“You like Dean’s burgers” Cas reminds him.

Crowley grumbles something that sounds like “Doesn’t mean I have to eat them every day” but still digs in once dinner is done.

“So you’re saying it’s shielded like the bunker too?” Dean asks while they’re eating.

“No one will be able to tell where you are calling from while you’re here.”

Sam’s text alert rings out.

Dean’s surprised this didn’t happen earlier.

“What does she want?”

“Are you behind this?” Sam reads out loud.

“Tell her it’s the demon she despises so much” Crowley says. “I’m sure Mummy would love to hear that.”

“I don’t answer her texts anymore. She knows that.”

Sam puts his phone away.

“She’ll have to find another way if she wants to keep manipulating me.”

He’s never called it that, before.

Dean, he knows now, actually suspected pretty early on something was wrong, only that he didn’tb want to admit it to himself.

At least now they’re all on the same page.

Mary sends another text.

Only this time, when Sam reads it, he blanches.

Then, with a blank expression on his face, he throws his phone against the wall.

“Sammy?”

“That wall is brand new, you know” Crowley remarks mildly, but his hand has tensed around his glass.

“I’ll need a new phone” his brother says. “And we’ll have to tell our friends.”

“Yeah, of course. Sam, are you okay?”

“Yes. Mo – Mary just said something about – you, that’s all.”

“What did she say?”

“I don’t want to repeat it” is all Sam says.

“Good” Crowley comments.

Dean swallows. Knowing that Mary accused him of something – that she probably sounded like John – and that Sam would react this way – it has to have been bad –

And then Cas draws him close and kisses his forehead.

He relaxes.

He has Cas, he has his family, he has a new home.

Everything else can wait until tomorrow.

#destiel #my writings #season 12 au because i can #:)

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hogwartselementumrp · 7 years

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Congratulations Tasha! I would like to say THANK YOU!! Skylar is one of my favarite pre-written characters, he is so interesting and has the amount of plots you can develop with him are endless! The connections you wrote are super interesting, and i kinda wanna claim them all (i won’t because i want you to be super involved and plot with everyone... but i want to...)

Please send in your account soon! And I hope you enjoy your time in elementum!

OOC Information

NAME/ALIAS: Tasha

PREFERRED PRONOUN: She/her

AGE: 19!

TIMEZONE: GMT-8 (I think?? I’ve never done that before, I always just say PST)

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I usually get on every day, but if not then I’ll get on the next day for sure. I do have two 12+ hour days a week though, so those days I’ll only be on late if at all.

HOW DID YOU FIND THE RP (NEW MEMBERS): I was just scrolling through the next gen rp tags, I think. Maybe the harry potter rp tag, one of the two.

Character Information

NAME OF THE CHARACTER: Skylar Sheehan

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS:

Honestly whenever I write these things they’re super casual so I hope that’s okay. Anyway, Skylar’s the biggest sweetheart in my eyes, but basically has what I like to call a stranger-phobia. As a kid, he always had these weird abilities, and felt like a complete outsider. After discovering he was a wizard, as it says in the bio, he was excited but when he got to Hogwarts and found out hardly anyone shared his abilities, even hated him for them, his self worth started spiraling. The fear of people only grew with every attack. So now, when he’s around muggles he’s surprisingly more comfortable than in the wizarding community.

He was always really close with his parents, especially after leaving Hogwarts. But now that he doesn’t have that safety net of living with them, he’s become more fearful again. I imagine now that he’s back, he’d try and avoid people recognizing him from their previous years, and would try to be hiding the fact that he’s a spirit elemental. He’s very loyal and sweet and would hardly say a bad thing about anyone, but it takes getting to know him to get down to that soft core. Once someone is close to him, he automatically thinks that they’re worth more than him. Even if someone has managed to be in his comfort level though, he tries to pretend that he’s alright. In his mind, he’s not worth the time that someone might spend worrying if he told them everything. So instead, he tells them nothing.

I also have this headcanon that he’s really into music, and though he isn’t in the orchestra or choir, he’s been asked several times by his roommates why his guitar never comes out from under his bed (unless they’re not around.)

ANY CHANGES YOU WISH TO MAKE?: If I could change his faceclaim to Devon Bostick, that would be great. And maybe his birthday so he’s still 17 instead of 18?

DESIRED SHIPS, IF ANY: Nothing specific. Chemistry, lol

TITLES: I don’t think he’d have any tbh :P

RELATIONSHIPS:

Muggle Cousin: Skylar has a cousin who knows he’s a wizard and about his magic. She just so happened to be at his place for a family dinner when an owl came flying in his living room window and dropped the letter on his lap, and read it before they even showed his parents. She’s the only family member outside of his late parents who know about him, and sends her letters once in a while to lie about how great school is. (Obviously not playable, I just wanted to write something about her.)

Friend: Honestly someone that can make Skylar stop feeling worried all the time when he’s around them. Someone that sees him for the ball of fluff that he is behind all the two-word conversations and avoided eye contact. They’d probably need to be willing to push him, but given he’s a bit of a pushover already, that shouldn’t be a problem.

Someone from the Past: This can be a pleasant or unpleasant relationship. When he attended Hogwarts in the past, he was picked on a lot and even if he tries to hide who he is now, I’m sure he’d still be recognizable. This could even just be someone that was in one of his classes that knows who he is, to be honest.

Any of the Potters: Though Harry probably didn’t tell any of his kids about Skylar’s elemental abilities, he feels like he’s not in as much danger from the Potter children than he does with everyone else. Something about their dad being the last person he had to depend on meant a lot, and though he doubts they know anything about Harry helping Skylar, they may be the people he could go to in case of a real emergency.

FAMILY RELATIONSHIPS: Before they passed away, Skylar depended a lot on his parents. They really were the only people he could talk to, even if they didn’t know what it was like having magic. Other than whatever tutor he had or Harry Potter, they were the only people he really hung out with much. Now that they’re gone, he can’t explain how much he misses them, and avoids the topic so he won’t break down in front of others.

PARA SAMPLE (I used this as a muse thing for when I played Lorcan Lovegood)

Stillness. That was all someone may see if they were to walk into the room… and light. Light everywhere, in the colours of the sheets on the beds, on the aged stone walls, all over the floor that was constantly being cleaned. It was everywhere, and it was the cause of why Lorcan had to squint when his eyelids fluttered open, stillness broken. It was a shame, he thought, it must have seemed so peaceful, until he woke up. But what had happened to land him in the hospital wing? He’d barely pondered it for a moment before he sat up, and remembered instantly as a pain shot through the back of his head.

“Ouch.” The brunet murmured under his breath, slowing down as he finished sitting up.

It was just a moment later when the nurse was rushing out of her windowed office and in to help him, pouring him some water and handing him a pill.

“Take it, Sweety. It’ll make you feel better.” But then she looked at him funny, watching him examine the pill.

“It’s a lovely colour.” He told her just before popping it into his mouth, drinking the water to swallow it with.

Ah, yes. Falling down stairs was a painful thing to endure. Probably not as painful as what some of the Quidditch players ended up in there for, but the headaches still weren’t the most fun of things to deal with. It wasn’t bothering Lysander much now, not now that the pill was starting through his digestive tract. Magic was lovely, he told himself as he stretched. It was a lovely morning… or was it afternoon? It was slightly warm for morning, so it must be a little later than when he normally woke up. Then again, the hospital wing was in the middle of the building, whereas his common room was in a tower. It was much colder up there. Louder too.

“Have you ever considered painting the ceiling?” He was still in that dreamy state from just waking up, his mind being even more in the clouds than it was most of the time. The most wondrous things came into his mind when he’d just woken up, or even while he was asleep. Usually he kept a notebook under his pillow, lest he forget later in the day.

“The ceiling, Dear?” This was when the nurse started fearing there was something more wrong than just a headache.

“It would be lovely, then patients would wake up and see the paintings and be able to experience the beauty of it right at the beginning of their day. I know it would definitely make me feel better.”

“We’ll consider it.” And that was enough to get Lorcan to stop talking.

“It would be quite astonishing though.” He said after a minute or so, looking at his bedside table curiously. There was a chocolate frog, and then the typical jar of flowers that the nurse left beside each patient. He was sure that they were there for the same reason that he would love to see art on the ceiling, but he supposed, to most people, flowers were a more more ‘normal’ form of adding beauty to a room. Sitting beside the bedside table was his bag, which he quickly reached into, grabbing his little white sketchbook and starting to doodle the shape the ceiling, just with little designs coating it: something he’d be able to spend hours working on, if he had more than just an average sketch pencil with him.

He drew silently for a good half hour, before he looked towards the doors because of voices on the other side. Voices calling the nurse’s name. As a Quidditch player on the Hufflepuff team and someone in the yellow and black scarf walked in, his eyes fell on the girl in the middle, limping. Oh, so he’d missed the game. He figured that would happen. At least he knew about what time it was. Ah, well. He supposed he’d have to ask Lysander about the game later… but now, he figured it was time to head out of the hospital wing.

#accepted

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