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azedakude · 5 months

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Would I be able to request the jojos with a chubby s/o who's severely insecure? Like to where they won't want their partner to touch them and, even when presented with reassurance, they won't believe them as they tell them they look good? I suffer with this a bit, insecurities grow due to family and friends telling me to lose weight and be more active. It always gets to my head yk?

❁ 𐑮𐑮 ¡note 𖥻 autor! ﹆ i totally understand that!, if you need a safe place to blow off steam when you're feeling this way, feel free to message me and we can chat! <3 sorry for the severe delay !! and, i'll do a few headcannons of this, if you don't mind. i hope you like it, you are very strong for coping with this situation on your own! ♡

╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴✦ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴

ᰍ ★ ៸៸ #꯭# ❨ ♥︎ ❩ JoJo's with a insecure s/o !

꒰ 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 :

✦ He always understood that you feel this way about your body, most of the time he does his best not to bother you with compliments, or physical affection, and everything so that you can be comfortable around him. Instead, Jonathan would speak to you sweetly and very patiently, making you understand that your body is valid, and your feelings and insecurities are too. “Sweetheart, you shouldn't get carried away by bad comments about your body, they don't make sense. Could you tell me the next time someone says those comments to you? I will make them understand that those blasphemies should not be said to my partner. They do not know what magnificent person they are talking about.” little by little, Jonathan will help you manage your insecurities, facing them with you, making you see that you are not alone in this battle, he will always be by your side.

✦ Although Jonathan has rarely admitted it out loud; more than anything to not make you uncomfortable, he is fascinated by your cheeks and love your rolls; since he find it extremely attractive and even adorable. — He has the habit of holding your hand whenever he can; caressing it and also getting lost in your eyes, when caressing your hand; he will always write nice things with his index finger on your palm.

✦ From time to time, every time you fall asleep on Jonathan's chest due to fatigue, he will begin to caress your scalp with his right hand, while with his left hand he will begin to lightly pat your back, enhancing your sleep. At the same time; Jonathan will whisper various compliments and sweet words in your ear, admitting all the admiration he has for you. “I know you don't feel comfortable when I tell you these things when you're awake, but... I really love you for who and how you are, Y/N, no one and nothing can change that. You are perfect in my eyes, and that is the most important thing to me.”

✦ There were very few occasions when you wore a dress; but when that occasion passed where you used them, Jonathan would simply appreciate you from top to bottom, loving you with his eyes and smiling from ear to ear when he saw your beauty. “You are an angel in my eyes... I had never seen such perfection, until I saw you.” Jonathan would be the first to remark how divine you look in such clothes, always asking your permission to place his hands on your waist, and then kiss you gently.

꒰ 𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 :

✦ Although he is an extremely funny and hilarious guy, when you feel comfortable enough to tell him about your insecurities about your physique; he took action on the matter in a subtle, but at the same time direct way. — Joseph from time to time, if not almost always; he would buy a bouquet of flowers, every day was a different types of flowers to give to you; the flowers would always be accompanied with a poem handwritten by himself (with artistic help from Caesar Zepelli, obviously) “I may not be worthy of your presence, but I am willing to move heaven, sea and earth to show you that my love for you will never die, and will never change, because I have fallen madly in love with you, and no one else; my heart belongs to you, Y/N. — JoJo.”

✦ Every time he has the opportunity, Joseph will place tender and slow kisses all over your body, especially on your shoulders and abdomen, since these two places are his favorite parts of your body. Also, when he feels playful enough, he will tenderly caress your waist, hips, thighs and shoulders. — Every little physical affection that Joseph gives you, he will do it with total love and care, always looking for one of your best reactions, without wanting you to feel uncomfortable, since, for him, you are the most important person in his life.

✦ Joseph loves to carry you bridal style, or carry you in his arms in general; whenever you are in his arms, Joseph will kiss your cheeks and whisper tender compliments in your ear, occasionally hiding his own face against your neck to tickle you to make you laugh. “I love carrying you in my arms, you know? It makes me feel like that blue knight, who comes to rescue you.”

✦ When it comes to someone disrespecting you and insulting you because of your physique; regardless of who it is, Joseph will take it completely personally and take matters into his own hands, literally. — If it is completely necessary, Joseph will not hesitate to fight with the person who has disrespected you.

꒰ 𝐉𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐔𝐉𝐎 :

✦ He would listen to you vent about your insecurities, showing that he would always be there for you through thick and thin, without forgetting that he would gently hug you after each vent; asking you if he can kiss your forehead. “I want to see you well, Y/N, I will never leave your side, I will help you and I will be in your worst moments.” Jotaro will always tell you the same thing and he will always demonstrate it in different ways.

✦ Jotaro didn't care much about how you looked physically, but since you confessed to being insecure about your physique; he began to be much more patient with you regarding your insecurities. From time to time, Jotaro would hug you from behind every chance he got, whispering nice compliments in your ear. “You are very pretty, you know that?”

✦ He would be the type of boyfriend who would listen to you vent about your insecurities at every moment; always paying maximum attention to how you feel, and then knowing how to react and cope with the situation so that you feel better. — In turn, after each vent, Jotaro will ask you if he can hug you and comfort you for a long time, listening to you, pampering you and giving you affection.

✦ Like Joseph, he would act extremely defensive if someone outside disrespected you regarding your insecurities; without hesitating for a second to defend yourself, both verbally and physically. With the difference that, after that, Jotaro would stay by your side, comforting and supporting you.

꒰ 𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐀 :

✦ Josuke would have in mind about your problem with your physique; ttherefore, he would always try to listen to you and support you above all, accompanying you in every relapse and every progress you present, always encouraging you and giving you compliments so that you can see yourself through his own eyes. “I understand that it is difficult for you.. But believe me, my love, you are more than perfect just the way you are. You shouldn't change anything.”

✦ He would always make sure you eat your meals; since he would not want you to begin to neglect yourself in other equally important ways based on your insecurity, since for him, everything about you is important and must be taken care of with the well-deserved care.

✦ Whenever he has the opportunity, Josuke will always ask your permission to hug and caress you, while whispering nice compliments into your hair, protecting you in the middle of the hug, so that you feel safe. “I will protect you from every evil in this world, my love, I promise.”

✦ Apart from caressing your body, he will always ask your permission to give you multiple butterfly kisses on certain parts of your body; to tickle you, while he whispers nice compliments and positive affirmations between kisses.

꒰ 𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 :

✦ Giorno would try everything in his power to make you feel better about yourself; whether it be with positive affirmations, caresses, physical affection and more than anything; unconditional attention and listening above all, since, for him, you are the most important person in his universe.

✦ Whenever you feel insecure about your body, Giorno would ask you to do breathing exercises with him; to calm you down and keep you at peace, and then ask your permission so he can hug you and hold you in his arms; while repeating nice phrases to cheer you up.

✦ You would be the perfect muse for Giorno; and he would demonstrate this in his paintings, every time he wanted to paint and portray you on a canvas, he would always ask your permission before doing so, having you as a reference and divine muse. After each painting, he would take the liberty of kissing you, caressing you, pampering and hugging you.

✦ Whenever the two of you go to sleep, Giorno will whisper nice compliments and positive affirmations in your ear with a sweet voice, while he caresses your arms and places tender kisses on your temple. “You are the most divine person I have ever seen in my life.. Did you know that? I will remind you every day, so that you always keep it in mind and do not forget.”

꒰ 𝐉𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐉𝐎𝐇 :

✦ She would have been clear from minute one that you felt insecure about your physique when you decided to tell her about your insecurities; since then, Jolyne took the time to listen to you, accompany you, support and love you; always making it clear to you that she loves you just the way you are.

✦ Jolyne would get straight to the point every time she gave you a compliment; always leaving you clear and present that for her, you are the most perfect person she has ever seen, while she would always ask your permission before hugging you and comforting you so that you feel better.

✦ Little by little, Jolyne would encourage you to wear dresses; while she would encourage you to see yourself in the mirror, while she highlights each unique, beautiful and divine part of your body, starting from the tip of your head, to your feet, without forgetting to give you a thousand and one compliments, kissing you and hugging you in the process. “I will always say it and I will never get tired of telling you; pretty face, you are beautiful just the way you are, you are like a lotus flower; beautiful and delicate.”

✦ Jolyne would be the type of girlfriend who wouldn't mind in the slightest and would always try to find the perfect opportunity to carry you in her arms in bridal style, always to make you smile and cheer you up emotionally. — While smiling at you, looking into your eyes and repeating positive affirmations in your ear, so that you see yourself as perfect as she sees you in her eyes.

#jonathan x reader #joseph x reader #jotaro x reader #josuke x reader #giorno x reader #jolyne x reader #neutral reader #sfw #jjba x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #x reader #comfort

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quindriepress · 11 months

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This week's spotlight is on Beth Fuller and her comic Witching Hour. Beth is an illustrator and concept artist from Dublin, Ireland. She’s considering putting down the stylus pen and heading off into the wilderness to live as a hermit, but likes hot showers and horror films just enough to keep her in civilisation. For now, anyway. (@bethfuller | website | instagram | twitter)

"Witching Hour is about a young girl sent on a mysterious journey by her father. Two pale trees with intertwined branches form a strange gate at the edge of 12-year-old Esio’s town, and beyond it lies an old, ruined land. Over their pints, as dusk falls, the villagers say it’s where lost things - and people - eventually end up. She’s got sandwiches, an apple, plasters, a bottle of Tipperary Kidz water and a Horrible Histories book in her rucksack and she’s heading off into the unknown, with only a talisman to guide her. There’s no telling who she might meet along the way."

Read the spotlight below the cut!

"That’s the initial rundown, anyway. Speaking more subjectively, I wanted to create a setting where two totally different characters - as different from each other as you can get - are forced to work together and end up changing each other’s lives. I really do think you can get on and find common ground with almost anyone, in the right circumstances."

Witching Hour took several years to incubate. "I’d been working on a comic slowly and haltingly since I was 18. There are pages kept deep, deep in my computer with old, badly drawn versions of Esio in a radically different setting, but it never really made sense as a story. I don’t think I made it past page three! Still, the fantasy atmosphere and character of Esio stuck with me over the years. Plus I really like to mix the dull, routine and mundane aspects of everyday life with things that are otherworldly and strange."

"Eventually we had a visual narrative module as part of my degree, and while recalling my old comic pages (I was mulling over it in the shower, which is where I think many of us do our most important thinking) an idea came to me that would form the basis of Witching Hour. Adding this to the embers of my previous project gave me more than enough fuel to sit down and start drawing.

"I have plenty of ideas for what I want to get up to next. I’ll work on a tarot set, keep working on freelance concept art and illustrations, design some tattoos, maybe try my hand at another comic at some stage. As always, feel free to get in touch and let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see from me!"

Beth draws inspiration from many sources: "The landscapes of south-west Ireland. Horror films, foreign language films, fantasy films, anything animated. The writing of Michelle Paver, Neil Gaiman and Ursula LeGuin.

"For me, though, it’s primarily the work of other illustrators that has inspired me the most, and it’s often only through seeing and evaluating lots of different brilliant styles that you can start to discern your own tastes. As a child, the obligatory Ghibli film catalogue. Then the work of Chris Riddell, Max Prentis and Ian McQue were enough inspiration to foster an interest in art school. I went, studied Illustration at DJCAD, and discovered Jake Wyatt, Celia Lowenthal, Juliette Brocal, Linnea Sterte, Jack T. Cole, Evan Cagle, Alphonse Mucha and (of course) Moebius. Seeing their work is like taking the creative spark and making it into a deodorant flamethrower."

Beth's work often centres around fantastical worlds and sweeping landscapes. "I think somehow you always come back to what you know. Sometimes you don’t even notice you have a fascination with something until you start to create and it keeps returning.

"My family and I spent a lot of time around Irish coastlines growing up, especially during the warmer months. Kerry, in the south-west, has mountains that turn brown in winter, then when summer comes are carpeted with a haze of purple heather, not unlike the hills of Scotland. There are crumbling ringforts and monastic ruins on isolated hilltops. I could be in the most beautiful place in the world but still miss the coconut scent of Kerry gorse. The fantasy aspect is fun to play with, and it adds a nice sense of mystery, but fundamentally I think the landscapes I draw are an attempt to capture, and return to, the shores I kicked about on as a kid."

For aspiring comic creators, Beth has this advice: "This is a common one, but I think it’s still worth saying: if you have a story, get it down. You don’t need to consider yourself a comic artist to make a comic. You also don’t need to wait around for the right time, or enough expertise - nobody is going to give you a nametag with ‘comic artist’ on it. If you can draw, and you need to say something, just start drawing boxes and see where it goes. Also, ‘Necropolis’ by Jake Wyatt is really good."

You can pick up Witching Hour, alongside the other three comics in our 2023 collection, right here on Kickstarter!

#witching hour #2023 collection #beth fuller #bethfuller

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zoeykallus · 2 years

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Thank you so much for taking the time to write requests, you are so talented 💕 what about the bad batch (+ rex or howzer??) with an artistic reader? Like, one that sketches a lot during her free time. Maybe she teaches Omega how to sketch? Thank you 💕💕💕

Thanks for the compliment! Can't always do as many requests as I'd like to, unfortunately...

The Bad Batch x Artistic Reader HC's

Initial situation:

Clone Force 99 has temporarily landed on a forested moon. You should wait there for a handover. To kill time, you unpack your drawing pad for the first time in a long time. The Marauder against the backdrop of nature, a nice contrast you want to draw.

_________

Hunter

He sees you sitting on a rock near the ship with your drawing pad. He quietly approaches you to see what you are doing. Hunter is surprised to see you drawing, and for a long moment he silently watches you.

As you realize he is standing next to you, you look up at him.

"Sorry", he says, "Didn't want to disturb you. I just never saw you draw before"

You smile at him.

"I didn't have the time and rest to do so for a while. But while we are waiting here, I thought I give it another try"

Hunter looks at what you've done.

"That looks pretty awesome. I like the contrast of nature and machine"

Your smile widens.

"It's fascinating, isn't it?"

Hunter hums in approval and sits down next to you. There is something relaxing and calming about watching you draw. Now that he knows, he's going to watch you more often to calm down and still spend time with you.

When you start to teach Omega, he's smiling all over. It's so nice to see you two get along so well. It warms his heart.

Echo

You hear his voice behind you.

"I didn't know you are an artist"

You look over your shoulder with a little smile.

"It's a hobby, more or less. I've done this a lot more, a few years back, but there is not much rest and time these days to really focus on it"

Echo sits down next to you.

"Is it okay if I watch a little?"

You nod.

"Sure, if it's not getting boring for you"

Echo smiles and says, "It's actually pretty fascinating"

He watches your hand move, the lines you draw, the corrections you make, and it is like a Hypnosis. Echo is so focused on what you are doing, he forgets the world around you two.

Before he lost his arm, he was drawing too sometimes. Echo kind of misses it, but in some way, watching you do it, comforts him.

He tried it with his other arm, but it's not the same, he learned to do things with his other arm because he had to. But drawing was a somewhat different thing.

Echo never told you, he doesn't want pity. He's content with watching you draw.

Wrecker

"What ya doin' there, Mesh'la?"

"Drawing", you say with a smile.

Wrecker looks at your drawing pad and says, "Woah, that's lookin' really awesome!"

He gets all quiet and watches you in fascination. Wrecker is so fascinated with seeing the lines you draw becoming a picture. He's so focused he forgets why he came here to talk to you in the first place.

Hours might go by, without him saying a word. It's actually unusual for Wrecker to be so silent, especially for so long.

You almost forgot to that he is sitting right next to you when he suddenly asks, "Would you draw me too? Maybe with my brothers? You know as a memory"

You look up at him and say, "Sure, if we can find the time, I'd love to"

Wrecker smiles.

There are not many pictures of him and his brothers, and he thinks a drawing, made by you, would be even more personal and amazing to have as a memory.

Tech

Tech sees you sitting there, drawing. He's not approaching you right away. He goes back into the Marauder and when he comes back out, he has a drawing pad of his own.

He sits down right next to you.

"That looks wonderful", he says, looking at your drawing "The contrast of nature and machine is a fascinating choice"

You nod, then look at him with his drawing pad.

"You draw too?"

"Sometimes", he says, "I don't often get the time to do it"

"You never told me"

He cocks an eyebrow at you.

"You never told me either"

You chuckle, "Okay fair enough"

Softly kissing his cheek, you focus back on your drawing, as he suddenly returns the gesture. When you look up, you see he is slightly blushing. Considering how experimental and intense he can be in the sheets, it's fascinating again and again how shy he actually is.

You two draw for a good while and as you look over at his drawing you are pretty impressed. Tech's attention to detail is stunning, it's almost like a holo-image but better.

He says softly, "We should do this more often. It's relaxing, I can actually clear my head for a while"

Crosshair

"Drawing? Yet another talent of yours that I didn't know about"

You look up at him, surprised to see him. He was running errands and back earlier than expected. Crosshair sits down next to you, looking at your drawing.

"Hmm. Not bad", he mutters.

"Thanks"

His scrutinizing look makes you a little nervous. But after a while, you forget about him, because he is so quiet.

But then a breeze waves over a whiff of his aftershave and the smell tingles under your skin. You look up and Crosshair looks right into your eyes.

He smirks.

"I'm making you nervous?"

"A little"

"Still? In a good way?"

You shrug and say, "Sometimes"

Crosshair chuckles, "Well, I leave you to it then. Come see me when you're done."

He grabs your chin and presses a kiss to your lips, before getting up and leaving you to draw.

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@puppetswithte

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plumboey · 1 year

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starlight: an aspiration-based legacy challenge

hi! i've always been fascinated with family gameplay and legacy gameplays, but I've NEVER been able to finish them. i find that rules that are too specific are too stressful, but rules with not enough specificity gets boring. aspirations- which are already established in basegame- are unique and fun, and something (I think) we don't use enough! so I created ten generations of almost entirely basegame aspirations and put it into a legacy.

a lot of DLC's were taken into consideration when I wrote this. if you'd like a basegame-only version, i'd be happy to make it. only one generation has an aspiration that is DLC-specific, though. if there's a rule which is DLC-specific and you don't have it, then it's optional! i also specify particular worlds for each generation to live in- that's mostly just for fun.

if you end up trying this legacy, feel free to tag me and/or use the #plumboeystarlightlegacy tag!

rules, storyline, etc. under the cut :)

set up

obviously, one of the most important parts of the legacy is to complete whichever aspiration is associated with the generation. i didn't want to write that out ten times- it felt rather repetitive- so i didn't add it to the individual rules. starting household funds can be whatever they are after you buy your first place to live. (read: you don't have to cheat down your money after you start gen 1.) cheats that would give you an unfair advantage, whether it's career, wealth, or otherwise, are not allowed. however, all build cheats and cas cheats are allowed. in addition, mods like the MCCC mod, UI cheats for basic needs, lumpinou's interaction mods, etc. are completely allowed and recommended. when starting your first generation, freerealestate is allowed. all generations must have at least one of the traits specified and be in the career given. if there's more than one career listed, choose one randomly. all generations must also follow the rules of each generation. however, if you want to tweak the rules to fit your style of gameplay, or add rules as you see fit, absolutely do that! this should be fun, not a hassle.

once again, just to repeat: all heirs MUST complete whichever aspiration their generation is assigned.

generation one: painter extraordinaire

living in san myshuno, you've been surrounded by creativity and artists your whole life. when you became a young adult, you decided to stay in your hometown and pursue your lifetime dream of becoming a painter.

have either the creative or art lover trait get to at least level 8 of the painter career have kids with someone with a creative aspiration or the creative trait have at least three kids in your hometown never move from san myshuno

generation two: computer whiz

while your parents were creative, they always encouraged you and your siblings' hobbies, even if yours strayed away from the artsy, imaginative side of things, and leaned more into techy and industrial. in addition, computers have always been there for you when people weren't- so you've become much more introverted as a result.

have at least one of these traits: geek, loner, paranoid live in windenburg & join or create a club about computers get to level 10 of the tech guru career never get to level 10 of the charisma skill marry the first person you date, and don't have the ceremony until you're an adult only have one child

generation three: country caretaker

growing up surrounded by technology and screens always felt a little bit off to you. you preferred playing in the wilderness, making mud pies, and didn't mind tracking dirt all over the floor. after you become a young adult, you decide to move to henford-on-bagley and start your very own farm.

live on the biggest lot in henford-on-bagley have either the animal enthusiast or outdoor enthusiast trait start your farm from the ground up (i.e. no premade lots or farms from the gallery) by the time you're an elder, you should have at least a cow, a llama, five hens, and a rooster, as well as several successful crops. make friends with michael bell (the creature keeper), as well as at least one of the crumplebottom sisters meet your spouse in henford-on-bagley around the town square. when you get married, have your wedding on your farm. have at least four children

generation four: friend of the world

living in henford-on-bagley with so many siblings, you became very extroverted but easily bored. you wanted excitement, and del sol valley is where you could find it! you and your childhood bestie decide to move to the big city together to find more friends and live that lavish life.

live in del sol valley; try to meet all of the premade celebrities have either the outgoing or the insider trait get to at least level 8 of the social media career have one best friend who you've known since childhood marry that friend & have at least one child be good friends with your child(ren) throw only gold-star parties, especially birthday parties

generation five: bodybuilder

living in del sol valley with such extroverted parents was fun, but you want to be able to focus on something more attainable than just "having a lot of friends". you decide to pursue bodybuilding in order to be the strongest person you possibly can be!

live no more than three lots away from a gym have any of these traits: active, bro, dance machine have a couple "gym buddies" (i.e. people you met at the gym who you workout with) get to at least level seven of the athlete career marry someone with any of these traits: lazy, foodie, slob, loner have two kids live long enough to meet the heir of gen 7

generation six: public enemy

nobody's ever really been able to find out why you've turned out the way you did, but all anyone knows is that you were never a good kid. ever since you were small, it's been your mission to wreak havoc on the good people of the world, and no one can stop you.

in childhood, either graduate with the lowest grade possible or flunk out of school get to level 10 of the criminal career have any of these traits: hot-headed, kleptomaniac, evil, mean get married and divorced at least three times, with at least one child from each marriage have an enemy who is descended from bella goth, nancy landgraab, or jacques villareal die before you become an elder

generation seven: big happy family

your home life has never been perfect. in fact, many would call it unstable and extremely troubling. after you move out, you decide to create your own household: one that is peaceful, loving, and everything you wanted but never had as a child.

live in newcrest or brindleton bay on one of the largest lots if you want a job, work in the freelance writer career have the family oriented, cheerful, and/or neat traits get married as a young adult and have a kid or two divorce your original spouse but remain friends with them marry someone in adulthood who also has kids have gatherings with your blended family every other weekend

generation eight: mansion baron

as a child, you were spoiled with love, affection, and kindness from your parents and stepparent(s). as you got older, you decided you wanted to keep that love going, not only in regards to affection, but also material wealth- because why not?

must live on a 40x30 lot or larger (any world you want) reach level 8 in the business/law/salary-person career have the art lover, materialistic, and/or snob traits never move from your original lot have one child who you spoil endlessly- most high quality toys, best furniture, a big room throw at least three dinner parties with a gold star rating

generation nine: soulmate

having the coolest toys and best clothes was fun, but you've always prized people over things. when you get your heart broken a lot in your early years, you decide maybe it's not all that it's cracked up to be; but, when you become a proper adult, you find your soulmate at last.

have the romantic, music lover, loyal, and/or jealous traits be in any career you'd like date at least two people in high school or university, but get dumped both times don't date again until adulthood; instead, foster friendships and focus on your career get married to your soulmate in adulthood have 2-3 kids go on dates even when your couple are elders

generation ten: renaissance sim

after hearing about the crazy adventures of your huge family, you decide you want to do EVERYTHING that presents itself to you! however, being a renaissance sim also means being sort of erratic and not very stable.

MUST have the noncommittal trait; can also have the erratic trait never live on one lot for too long (specifically, never longer than four or five weeks) work a lot of odd jobs never stay in a career path for too long keep in touch with a few friends, but don't have a best friend until later in life

and the ending is up to you! thank you so much for reading all of this and for playing along with me. i hope you had/will have fun, and i hope you have a great day!

love, roey <3

#this was so fun omg i should do this more often #ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 legacy #the sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #the sims 4 legacy challenge #non gameplay #ts4 simblr #the sims 4 simblr #plumboeystarlightlegacy #plumboey starlight legacy #pslegacy #plumboey original post #simsposting #mine*

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elshells · 1 year

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🌾 & 🌸 For Harley perhaps?

Oh, absolutely!! I'll talk about my Harley darling any day! :)

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

This was one of my favorite prompts from this list, so I'm glad this was included in the ask! I'll be describing Harley through Jade's perspective. As a fellow artist, I can totally picture Jade stepping away from the canvas and attempting to write sappy, flowery poetry or journal entries about her feelings to give her some form of closure and understanding. In the style of Agent Ace, this will be written from the third-person perspective (the thought process is long-winded and a lil messy, but that could just as easily be me 😅):

From the first time they met, Jade had always noticed the little things about Harley—the pattern of freckles across her nose, the way her bangs swept over her forehead, how her eyes were the exact color of sea glass. Her hands were cool to the touch, but it was the most grounding sensation Jade had ever felt. Heaven knew she fell too easily, but every time she thought she'd overcome her feelings, she sank a little deeper. Harley always had a strange gleam in her eyes; she never stopped thinking, even when she stopped paying attention to her own brain. She solved a hundred problems a day figuring out how to make her gadget of the month work, and thinking up solutions whenever it didn't. Her humor was just as bright as her mind, and optimistic in spite of every reason she had to look for the dark. They were friends, but maybe there was room for more. After all, it was impossible for Jade to ignore the way her heart skipped whenever Harley saw a creation of her own, with a look on her face like she had never seen anything more divine.

🌸 What are some of their favourite things and why? List as many as you can think of!

Alright, here we go!

The outdoors! As children, Harley and Sophia were always outside, playing in the woods behind their house or visiting the Arkley Bay Beach to look for crabs and fish in the tide pools under the docks.

Her family has always been important to her, even though her mother is the only consistent figure in her family. Harley never had the chance to meet her father, and while she still loves Sophia dearly, Sophia's strained relationship with her mother means she never gets to see her. It hurts her to see the people she loves so broken up.

Her favorite piece of jewelry, a bracelet made of strung-together wooden beads and green jasper stones. She bought it with her allowance when she was seven, along with an identical bracelet to give to Sophia as a parting gift when she left for Guard training. Sophia wears it just as much as her wedding ring.

Her best friends, Jade and Max. They were the ones she first met when she started attending the Westheight Institute, and they took her under her wing when she was all alone. There isn't much she wouldn't risk for them.

Music is the best fuel for her creativity. Whether it's dancing at a club or concert or blasting music through headphones while she works, it's invigoration that she can't get enough of.

Books. Harley is an avid reader, and spent much of her loneliest childhood days at the corner bookstore in Blumoore, getting lost in every story she could find.

Food! She'll try everything and loves almost everything she tries. Her mother's baklava is her favorite dessert, and she has a taste for sushi and barbecue—the spicier, the better!

Tinkering around in her free time. Harley is fascinated with discovering how the world around her works. Like Jade, she considers herself a creator, but she's more geared towards the sciences rather than the arts. She's a problem solver under pressure, and thrives off the trial-and-error of building new tools and gizmos and getting them to work.

On a similar note, anything related to robotics! She actually won a robotics scholarship for college, although she ended up turning down the opportunity to work under her uncle, Atticus Manalis, an underrated but genius inventor in his own right.

Once again following a related train of thought: I like to imagine that the show BattleBots exists in the Harmont Heroes universe, and that Harley, Jade, and Max all follow it religiously. The friendly competition of drawing up brackets and placing bets on which bot will prevail in each fight is what drew them together as friends in the first place.

She has an appreciation for art of all forms, since the most she can do herself are simple sketches. Her favorite art style is anything Jade makes.

Lastly, the city of Harmont, where she was born and raised. Even though her uncle's quiet, rural home has its own appeal, there's something charming and electrifying about city living, and she couldn't imagine calling anywhere else home.

#thank you for the ask!#please forgive any typos or nonsensical tangents #it is late and I am tired #but always happy to answer questions!!#soft oc asks #harmont heroes #wip: agent ace #oc: harley manalis #current wip #ella's writing

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emiloart · 1 year

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This is a painting that I absolutely adore, it’s currently hanging in my bathroom in my house. The painting was created by Lisa Ridgers, she works with professional grade quality artist materials for her original works. She also uses UV resistant acrylic paints and mediums. Lisa chooses to use watercolor papers and mat boards. The artist mentioned that when she paints on canvases she has the canvas pre-stretched professionally and doubled, triple primed with acid free gesso. Lisa Ridgers makes sure that her works are protected and has strong quality equipment and ready to be hung up with a heavy duty frame and wire. She finds that rich colors and dramatic scenery of the desert and the countryside influences her. The artist also enjoys using new techniques, technology, and mediums which is a great way to evolve and grow as an artist. When I take a glance at this painting of a woman sitting down naked outside a bedroom I see that the artist uses very faint lines in a simple way to add the subject in her painting. She also uses the foreground darker and more vivid but also she blends out her paint in a unique way. I think that this painting has its own beauty, yes I think it is a beautiful piece. Because for me I believe that it makes a statement to true beauty in a woman's body. Who cares if she’s naked? The woman is sitting looking at what I think is nature since the artist did describe that she likes to paint using nature in her work, also the subject looks peaceful.

Hello my name is Zhenna. People call me Zee a lot of times, because it’s just easier. Anyways I am 23 years old, female, she/her, I’m originally from Khabarovsk, Russia. I've actually been adopted since I was just turning six and then my parents welcomed me home in Fairfield CT at the time we were living. I am white caucasian, Russian, siberian, ukrainian. What I love to do for fun in my free time is hang out with friends, go to bars and sing karaoke. Also I love to practice my photography and videography skills, since I wanna make movies in the future. I am not a member of any group but I kinda wish I was to keep me more busy. I currently have a new job at Publix stocking shelves and unloading the trucks that come in so I work in the grocery department. What makes me uniquely myself is that I'm outgoing, fun, loving, caring, an artist, I love all sorts of music, food, I dance like a crazy person, and people say I have a unique eye for photography and art in general.

When I look at art, the baggage that brings me along are questions, and all sorts of thoughts that make it more complicated for me to see the actual beauty in the art piece. I ask myself what is the purpose of this? What happens if you turn this work of art a different way? Etc But instead of asking myself these and just enjoy when i'm glancing at an art piece. Sometimes I think art is boring but again there are so many ways to do art, it just depends how you get inspired by art. Is it a painting, art on a building, perhaps a dance move on tiktok is the way to go.

My daily life is by far fascinating, because as a growing artist I have always been learning to grow and new ways to make art more interesting. I've always been in love with Art overall. I think that being creative has saved me from my own thoughts. My work may sometimes seem dark and gloomy like a mystery, but sometimes I change my work into moving stills or a short movie that reflects on a self portrait. Just because I want the series to grow and since I love to do both photos and videos, why not make one picture into multiple or even a short video to make the whole thing into a visual moving piece. These four self portraits represent me on how I see the world and how I use different objects to make a photo grow into a story almost. My favorite is using black and white just because it’s cleaner and the subject is more bold. That’s how I represent myself as an artist. I use a simple background so it’s not overwhelming to look at. like I said I'm a mystery thinker dark and gloomy and maybe a rainbow on top.

#self portrait #art on tumblr #artwork #study blog #virtual art

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pattersonellison92 · 2 years

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hermes scarf replica 3

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#hermes silk scarf replica #hermes scarf replica #replica hermes twilly

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wolfstarlibrarian · 3 years

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HELLO I was jw what were your favourite fics featuring POC Marauders without the shitty stereotyping 💜

Also thank you librarian for your content. Honestly this is the top tier rec blog in the fandom due to your amazing taste.

Well THIS is a great ask! It’s nice to see fans looking for authentic diversity in fics as opposed to tokenism. Just about all of these fics have been listed on various library lists, but hopefully people enjoying seeing them listed somewhere convenient. Also, this is just a VERY SMALL selection of fics featuring Remus or Sirius as POC, so if you’re looking for more of a certain representation, just send an ask!

Also, a note to authors looking to include representation (other than their own ethnicity) in their next fic: make sure that you read first hand experiences from multiple sources, research with advocacy groups, and THEN try reach out to a peer who can potentially beta/do a sensitivity read for you. It's important that we all try and learn as much as possible on our own before asking our peers to work as our educators. ❤️

POC Wolfstar

Black James & Cuban Sirius

Be My Baby by @remus-john-lupin It’s the summer of 1963, and 18 year old Remus Lupin discovers dance, love, and even himself. (A very romantic and very gay Dirty Dancing AU.)

Latino Remus

Forget-Me-Not by @halictus-writer

For someone who just woke up with amnesia and a bad concussion, Remus Lupin isn't too dispirited. He'll get through it with the help of his friends, taking it one day at a time, as Sirius says. The only (other) problem? There's something important that he's forgetting.

Retrial by phoenixgal

Remus Lupin, host of the popular podcast Retrial, decides to focus on the case of Sirius Black, a man convicted of murdering his high school best friend, for his upcoming season. Remus has gotten too close to his subjects in the past, so he promises himself that won't happen this time.

Desi Sirius

Young Hearts Intertwined by @goodboylupin

There’s a special kind of magic to a wartime wedding.

Latino Remus & Desi Sirius

A Lucky Mishap by softiejace Of course this would be just Remus’ luck - the library printer breaking when the deadline for his term paper is coming up. And to top it off, the pretty boy he’s been running into all week is there to witness his moment of misery… but maybe he can turn things around?

Sephardic Jewish Remus

Candles in the Darkness by @miraxb

In the winter of seventh year, James, Sirius, and Remus are all carrying their own burdens and fears for the growing darkness in their world. Together, they find comfort and light at the Hanukkah celebration in the Lupin household.

Half Syrian Remus

I Tried Writing Your Name In The Rain, But It Never Came, So I Used The Sun Instead by @prefectmoony

Don’t get Remus wrong. He loves his friends, he does! Loves them to the moon and back in fact. They’re his people, his favorite part of everyday, his found family. He’d do anything for them. But the thing is that doesn’t take away from the very simple fact that his friends are fucking ridiculous. Remus knows this, has known it for five years now. But it doesn’t stop him from startling awake on the morning of his sixteenth birthday surprised by the sound of fireworks exploding in their dormitory and a raucous chorus of “Happy birthday Moony!” being shouted into his ear with jaunty gusto.

Chinese Sirius

got a fascination (with your presentation) by @alifeincoffeespoons

When Remus thought of Oxford as a child, he envisioned turrets, laughter, and an unnameable, unforgettable magic. He did not envision vomiting his breakfast all over himself while standing in the halls of St. Catherine’s College.

Cut Your Bangs by @notmycatsname

"There’s something about him that catches Sirius’s eye. His voice is a little whiny, almost off-key. Sirius has heard it time and time again in the bands that Lily plays through their speakers at their apartment but it sounds more genuine, almost heart breaking, through his voice. Remus’s voice."

Black Remus, Desi Sirius & James

Palo Alto by NachoDiablo

Modern AU set in Silicon Valley. It's easy for Sirius to ignore his mixed-up feelings while he's got Remus all to himself, but when Remus starts dating again, Sirius is forced to figure things out before Remus moves on for good. Or before James and Peter strangle them both.

Japanese Remus and Taiwanese Sirius

kavaluan (means white lily here) by @claudiafekete 1926, Taiwan. Japanese empire's prized colony. Remus needed an interpreter. Sirius volunteered.

Philippino Sirius

Problems with Narrative Structure and the Rules of Manly Engagement [+Podfic] by @xinasvoice

"There were easily six hundred people living in the Paramount building in downtown San Francisco. That was a lot of neighbors to get to know, but it only took a single day of living there for Sirius to notice Remus."

Latino Remus & Japanese-American!Sirius

Discards by @picascribit When 21-year-old assistant librarian Sirius spots a cute hipster college student at the Seattle Public Library, he just needs to figure out a subtle way of determining whether he’s into guys. But Remus’s life is more complicated than Sirius knows.

Native American Sirius

Grimsfall by @remus-john-lupin

There is a legend in the old city of Grimsfall that a large, black creature used to emerge from the forest at night, and anyone who met its gaze would be driven to madness before the thing dragged them into the depths of hell.

Mexican Remus & Sirius

A Whole Queer County Fair by @bigblackdogfic Two queer Mexican kids talking, having sex, and feeling their feelings in Arizona.

Indigenous Australian Remus

Among The Gumtrees by WolfstarGarden Sirius inherits his uncle's farm, but finding the right farmhand isn't as simple as he'd hoped: Sirius just couldn’t help but wonder if fantasising about his straight farm assistant was maybe one boundary breach too far. On the other hand, perhaps Remus shouldn’t suck on the end of his pen while lost in thought.

South American Remus

The Delegate by @wanderingbandurria

It’s 1921, and Sirius Black is a sailor that wants to prove himself as a political agitator. He sets foot in a lost, forgotten port in South America, where he’s supposed to help with the local organization of syndicalists. He’s not expecting to meet a brown-eyed man who is there to help put his words into Spanish. A man that’s really not interested in anything but doing his job. Nothing more.

Thai Sirius

Whatever Words I Say -orphaned fic

When Remus Lupin is hired to control the antics of famous lead singer of the Marauders, Sirius Black, he knows he has his work cut out for him. Sirius is contrary and has absolutely no chill, and loves pissing off the press. Remus feels up to the challenge, but he certainly does not expect to fall head over heels in love from the moment he meets the charismatic singer.

Something Beautiful -orphaned fic When Remus Lupin’s ex talks him into a drunken tattoo mistake, he goes to his friend and co-worker Lily for help. Luckily her husand’s best mate is a tattoo artist who can help with the cover up. Unfortunately for Remus, the tattoo in in a rather compromising area, and he’ll have to get over his embarrassment. Luckily for him, Sirius Black is just the man for the job.

So many fics and yet so many more to go! As always, feel free to reblog with your own recs!

#poc #wolfstar #remus x sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #desi #asian #black #Latino #mexican #Japanese #chinese #native american #Philippino #Syrian #cuban #aaaaah sorry this list got so long!

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ellewords · 3 years

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atsumu was like the sun. he shined and glowed and warmed people just by being near them. without a single thought, he was able to brighten the mood in ways that no one else could. even on his darker days or when his being felt too harsh, he left an impact that made everyone long for more. you couldn’t always see him, couldn’t always feel his presence, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there somehow, unseen but known.

by association, that sort of made you the moon. you could shine brightly and leave a warm glow and comfort others when they felt like they were in the dark. but all of that wasn’t possible without the sun. without atsumu.

people didn’t know you unless you were by atsumu’s side. they didn’t spare you a glance until atsumu brought attention to you. but you didn’t mind. all you wanted was to have him by your side, to support you when you couldn’t hold yourself up, to be brilliant beside him even if you would never outshine him. you were content in your current situation.

so why did it hurt so much seeing him continue to shine? why did his warmth suddenly feel so cold? why couldn’t you be as bright as him all on your own?

or, atsumu will always be the sun, you always the moon. maybe now it’s time to accept that you’re nothing without him so you can finally shine for yourself.

-💛

— from elle ! 💛anon you never miss, do you? aaaa this was so good it lived in my head rent free ever since i first read it >_< i just had to write an addition to this for the way you made my heart actually ache. i hope i did your drabble justice :<< this just hit a lil too close to home ngl thank you for reading everyone, i hope you like this! reblogs are appreciated, they help a ton <3

fic notes / warnings : timeskip!miya atsumu x gn!reader, angst, fluff (-ish? kinda) ending, oneshot, wc: ~1.52k (!! my longest margins addition so far omg)

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

atsumu has a gravitational pull, that much has always been clear to you and everyone else; a pull so strong that you can’t help but orbit around him. every room he walks into, he commands the attention of everyone present. one can’t help but simply be drawn to him — with his bright smiles, boisterous laughs, and larger than life movements. it’s no wonder why everything seems to bend to his will, how the universe seems to revolve around him.

you’ve moved around him for as long as you can remember, every now and then, he lets you borrow his light. the world has associated you with him and you don’t blame anyone one bit.

his name has always come first. setter for the inarizaki volleyball team, miya atsumu. invited to the all-japan youth intensive training camp, miya atsumu. captain of the inarizaki volleyball team, miya atsumu. setter for division one volleyball team, the msby black jackals, miya atsumu.

meanwhile, yours is treated as an afterthought, an attachment, a footnote in the awe-inspiring narrative of his life. you’re known as his childhood friend. his best friend, the one who cheers him on from the stands in every single one of his games. alleged significant other, according to whispers in the hallway and to the tabloids and paparazzi. his eventual confirmed significant other, ln yn.

atsumu and who’s that with him? atsumu and his best friend. atsumu and his significant other. atsumu, oh, and yn’s here too. it’s always atsumu before yn; his name before yours. sometimes, you wonder if anyone would know your name if he hadn’t started dating you.

you walk behind atsumu, not beside him, when you enter a room. fingertips loosely intertwined with his, you attempt to keep your head up as atsumu introduces you around. they spare you a quick “hi”, before beginning a conversation with your sun.

though he’s not really your sun, is he? you’ve always had to share him with everyone else. everyone needs a little sunshine in their life, a little warmth; his brilliance is dazzling, like everyone else, you revelled in his glow.

the world has always associated you with him, but it never worked the other way around. atsumu has always shined on his own; you needed him to have light for yourself.

no one blames the sun for burning a little too bright; it’s simply the way it is. similarly, you’ve never blamed atsumu for being the way he is. he doesn’t know, didn’t mean to do it in the first place. atsumu has always existed for himself, lived life the way he sees fit.

you can’t blame him, no matter how much you wanted to. even if you forced yourself to.

staring at the sun is fascinating, but do it long enough and it starts to hurt. the warmth is no longer comforting, but harsh and prickly. the light is no longer magical and dazzling, but blinding and terrifying. it took some time, but you eventually convinced yourself to look away.

“ya sure ya wanna do this?” atsumu asked, immediately recognizing your hesitance. he doesn’t want to break up, he wants you to take your words back, he wants you to tell him that this was all just some sick prank. but right now, it doesn’t matter what he wants. what matters is how you feel, the emotions he didn’t realize you had been feeling.

“no…” you mumbled. the intensity of his gaze makes your knees buckle, but you stand your ground. even in the chilling darkness of his living room, he radiates light and understanding, making everything all the more difficult. you bite the inside of your cheek, letting a few beats pass before your next words, “but i have to.”

“i believe in you,” atsumu nodded, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jeans. he lets out a quiet exhale, eyes gazing on the suitcases in your hand, “yer gonna do so many amazin’ things.”

your grip on the bag’s handle tightened. it was the end of an era, one that you didn’t expect would be ending at all. but it had to be done. for the first time since you met atsumu, you finally began to think of yourself. a small smile plays on your lips, hoping that he picks up on the pure gratefulness of your tone, “thank you for lending me your light.”

his reply would play in a loop in your mind. even in a breakup, the darkest the night has ever been, atsumu offers you a little bit of light. as expected from the sun.

the moon goes through several phases. some days are better than others. it’s a wave of several highs and lows, but you grow to understand that’s how things are. on some nights it’s as invisible as they come, the clouds blocking out what little light it already produced. though it glowed on other nights, you often feel like nothing has changed. but you learn to trust the process either way.

gazing at the moon is calming, not dazzling and exceptional, but calming. it provides peace, serenity. you often gazed at the moon, especially on the nights where you could only toss and turn. a cold breeze would blow past you and send shivers down your spine, painting your bare skin with several goosebumps. leaning on the balcony railing and taking in the sounds of a city that barely slept makes you think of him.

you miss the sun; you miss your sun. you miss his presence and the warmth he brings you. atsumu checks in every now and then, asking how you’re doing and wondering if you’d ever want to meet for a cup of coffee. you’ve never accepted any of his offers for fear of only getting pulled back in.

you’ve never realized that you always had a gravitational pull of your own. atsumu spends most of his nights gazing at the moon. when his heart raced and his mind buzzed, the moon brought him tranquility — as did you, his anchor.

[ miya atsumu ] : the night sky is nice tonight, it makes me think of you. i like that we’re always looking at the same one.

[ miya atsumu ] : i hope you’re doing okay.

he’s right, the night sky does look nice. the moon is full and shining the brightest you’ve ever seen it shine. gleaming, enchanting, and breathtaking doesn’t seem to do its beauty any justice. perhaps the poets and artists had been right all along, the moon is the perfect muse. your thoughts almost convince you that its light isn’t artificial. but twinkling beside the moon are the stars, shimmering high above the world you know, their light completely their own.

you’re not okay. being the moon may not be too bad, but you’ve already realized that you want to be amongst the stars as one.

days turn into weeks, and eventually months. sometimes they blend together when nothing of interest or importance happens, though you strive for events that are worth remembering. you’ve found a job that you actually like, one that you truly excelled at. you’ve started to put yourself out there, to meet people that pushed you to be better than you had been the day before. slowly but surely, you began to create your own light.

some days your light faltered, some days are dimmer than others, but it was a light of your own. it’s one that didn’t need another’s glow to exist. soon enough, you find yourself accepting one of atsumu’s many offers for a cup of coffee.

he’s now brighter than ever. setter for division one volleyball team, the msby black jackals, miya atsumu, has turned into setter for japan’s olympic team, miya atsumu. his radiance is as blinding as ever, the largest grin on his face as he waves his hand out the second he caught sight of you.

but you’re brighter now too, weaving through the cafe tables with your head up high. you’re more sure of yourself, standing taller, making each step towards him with purpose. you’ve lost the tension in your shoulders, the weight that built in your chest. and atsumu notices it too.

“you’ve changed.” he smiles, much softer than you’re used to. his gaze is fond as you settle in the seat in front of him.

“i know,” you reply, the corners of your lips twitching upwards, “but thank you for lending me your light.”

atsumu’s smile remains that same soft one that you’re not used to as he recognizes your words almost immediately. he leans back in his seat, gesturing a hand to you, “never gave ya anythin’, this is all you.”

he replies with the same words he said several months ago, the latter half of the sentence being the only addition. warmth fills your chest as he never lost a single ounce of sincerity. the only difference? this time you actually believe him.

atsumu may still be the sun, but you’ve become a star in your own right; you no longer need him to shine. maybe someday you’ll shine bright enough to allow yourself to exist beside him. but for now, this is enough.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

send me a hc / or a scenario ! <3 | written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky29 @sakusasimpbot @aoirohi @kokogxddess @livy384 @itachislut @crapimahuman @dkeela @duhsies @rmjace @atzuums @sanchooinc @sassyglassesbunny @cemeiia @nikiniki743 @savantsoulfinder @miyadarling @tooru--o @rinsangel @asaitashi

join my hq taglist here. <3

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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years

Text

Rainy Day Rescuer

Feyre Archeron x Rhysand - OneShot

Feyre gets locked out in the rain and fears she'll have to tough out the storm. That is, until a kind stranger opens his window.

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

2130 words

*******

Feyre’s favorite thing about her apartment building wasn't the location or the free parking—although she did love that—it was the rooftop.

She’d lived in the building almost a month before realizing she could access the roof. The padlock on the door was apparently for appearances only, and it easily came off when she pulled on it. She figured out how to rest it back on the door so that when she was out on the roof the door still looked locked to anyone who didn't know better.

So far, she hadn't run into any of her neighbors trying to share the spot, but she knew someone else used it. Normally, she came up here to paint or to think and look at the stars. The view from the roof was lovely; she could see the city center and all the lit-up buildings, and the Sidra river that flowed through it.

The first time she set up her easel, one of her paintbrushes rolled away, and when she tracked it down behind an old broken crate she found a book had been carefully tucked away behind it.

Feyre couldn't help it when she picked up the book to get a better look at it. She glanced around quickly before chiding herself, knowing that no one else was out there with her. She recognized it as some sort of mythology retelling. Feyre flipped through it, trying to find some name or any indication of who it belonged to. All she found was an old receipt from a clothing store being used as a bookmark.

Spotting her runaway paintbrush, she grabbed it and put the book back where she found it.

That wasn't the last time she saw that book, and it certainly wasn't the last time she lost one of her paintbrushes.

In the next few weeks, every time Feyre went out to the roof she looked for the book.

It was always in that same place, hidden away so it wouldn't be noticed. But every time she opened the book the bookmark was moved a little further along.

She also started noticing annotations written in the margins. Feyre tried to imagine what this person must be like. It was odd, but kind of fascinating to follow along with this person’s progress.

She tried to focus on the fascinating part, and not the part that made her feel a bit like a creep for peeping into this person’s thoughts.

Except, when she made her routine book check that night, it was gone.

Feyre tried not to feel too disappointed. Why was she so invested in another person’s book? But it had become a constant that she looked forward to, and now it was gone. She could only hope they would start another one.

She laid out a thin blanket and sat down to look at the stars.

She must have dozed off at some point because she was woken up by raindrops hitting her face. It wasn't heavy yet, but she could tell it was going to start soon.

Ignoring the drizzle, she glanced at her phone. Feyre groaned and sat up, rubbing her face.

“Ugh, okay Fey, let’s call it a night.” She mumbled to herself, sleepy and moving slowly. She packed the blanket in her large tote bag and went to go back inside. Pulling on the door, she stumbled back a step. She was too tired, her grip was already slipping.

Feyre adjusted the bag on her shoulder and pulled the door again.

It didn't move.

She gripped the handle with both hands and pulled, hard.

Nothing happened.

“No, no, no, no, no…”

Feyre was wide awake now. This couldn't be happening. Shit.

She threw her bag down and used all her strength to open the door she ultimately knew wouldn't budge.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, she stepped back from the door.

“Shit.”

The rain was beginning to pick up.

“Really?!”

Lunging for her bag, Feyre dug around until she felt her phone. Gripping it, she unlocked it and was about to find someone to call for help...but she had no service.

How could she not have any service? Oh, gods, she was going to be stuck out on the roof, in the rain, until someone decided to come out there. It could be who-knows-how-long until that happened.

Spinning around, Feyre caught sight of her salvation.

“The fire escape!” Beaming, she grabbed her bag and ran over to it. “You beautiful, fantastic fire escape, help me out.”

Feyre managed to climb down the four stories of stairs and ladders without slipping on the slick metal. Gods, wouldn't that be a sight? She’d slip and come tumbling down the rest of the way, providing free entertainment to whoever walked past the building’s back alley.

When she finally made it to the lowest landing she tried to lower the final ladder that would bring her to the ground.

Only, it wouldn't move.

“Come on,” she muttered, still trying to force it down, “Don’t do this to me. I’m so close!” Feyre looked down to see the drop. Cringing, she admitted it was farther than she trusted herself to jump without breaking something—most likely her.

Thunder boomed and lightning flashed across the sky. Feyre pressed herself against the building as the rain finally poured down.

“Seriously?!” She shouted up into the apparent waterfall above her head.

A knock from behind her startled her enough that she jumped around and let out a loud shriek.

“Um, are you okay?”

A voice came from a window set into the wall that she hadn't noticed before with a man’s face pressed up against it. Through the rain streaming down the glass, she couldn't tell if he looked more concerned or wary at her appearance.

It took her a second to respond.

“No.” She tried to shake the wet hair out of her face. “I’m not.”

“Are you trying to go up or down?”

Ah. He was probably worried she was just some random person who decided to hop up onto his balcony landing.

“Down.” She said, trying not to think of how bizarre it must be for him to look out and see a woman stuck outside his window, sopping wet.

This really wasn't how she wanted to make first impressions with her neighbors.

“I got locked out on the roof and tried to get down the fire escape, but,” she gestured to herself and the now downpouring rain that was making this conversation difficult, “it didn't really work.”

She hoped he would offer before she had to ask the insane request.

Thankfully he did.

His eyebrows shot up and he seemed to finally notice how bad the rain was. Hastily opening the window, he gestured for her to come in.

“Come in, it looks awful out there.”

Before she could think better of accepting the stranger's invitation to literally climb into their apartment, she picked up her soaking bag from the grate at her feet and crawled over the windowsill, quickly closing the window behind her to block the storm.

Maneuvering to a standing position, Feyre took a moment to take a breath and thank whoever was listening for her unexpected savior.

She turned to face him. He was tall, she would have to crane her neck up if stood much closer. And he had vibrant violet eyes that the artist in her wanted to study.

“Hang on a second.” He left her standing in his living room. Feyre looked around at the sofa and tv that took up most of the space, the bookshelf propped against one wall, and pictures of friends on the wall.

The man came back in with a towel in hand.

“Here, try this.” He handed it to her politely.

“Thanks.” She quickly wrapped it around herself, trying to dry off and stop shivering.

“No problem.” He looked like he was going to ask her something when something on the bookshelf caught her eye.

“It was your book?” She gasped, pulling the familiar volume from the shelf. Feyre whirled around to face the dark-haired man who was looking at her warily. “You’re the one who’s been using the roof!”

He stepped closer to her and gently took the book from her hands, casually flipping through it. Flicking his eyes up at her, he asked, “How did you know about my book?”

Feyre could feel her cheeks heating and she could've sworn a smirk made its way across his face.

“I, uh, found it one day.”

“You found it?” he asked skeptically. “I hid it behind some old box, how did you find it?”

At least he just looked curious, and mildly amused, and not disturbed at her snooping. Yeah, maybe it was tucked away, but anyone who tried for more than a minute could’ve found it, so she didn't feel as bad.

Drawing as much pride as she could muster when she was dripping water onto this man’s carpet, she huffed, “It was a crate, not a box.” He grinned and she went on, “and for your information, I dropped a paintbrush and it rolled over there. I found the book when I was chasing my brush. I don't actively seek out other people’s things to snoop.”

His grin widened as she explained and by the end, he was chuckling.

“And here I thought you just really wanted to get to know my reading tastes.”

She scoffed, but hid a grin, “Yeah, sure. I don't even know you.”

As she said it, she realized it was true.

Besides the fact that he lived in her building and was kind enough to let her in from the rain, she had no idea who this man was.

It seemed he remembered the same thing as he gave her a charming smile and held out his hand.

“You can call me Rhys.”

“Rhys?” She raised a brow. She’d never met anyone named Rhys before.

“My full name is Rhysand, but,” he paused to wink at her, “the people I like call me Rhys.”

Feyre rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle flirting but met his hand with her own.

“Feyre. Just Feyre.” She held his gaze for a few more minutes before they both dropped their hands.

“Well, Just Feyre, I think I have something for you.”

Before she could respond, he vanished into the other room. He had something for her? What? Was this some other lame attempt at flirting?

She’d let him flirt if he wanted to, maybe she was a little interested to see what he’d try.

But he came back out to stand in front of her with one hand behind his back.

“Yes?” She tried to peek around him, but he angled his body away so she couldn't see what he was holding.

Leaning in close to her, Rhys said, “I believe that is yours.” With a flourish, he brought his hand in front of him.

“My paintbrush!” Feyre couldn't believe it. She looked back and forth between the brush and the man holding it, “I’ve been looking for this one. I lost it weeks ago! How do you have it?”

Rhys smiled broadly at her as she took it from his outstretched hand.

“I found it near the back corner one night, it must have just rolled away from you. It looked like it could blend right into the wall.”

Ceasing her inspection of the brush, shocked that she had found it—that Rhys had had it—she looked at him and beamed.

He blinked, almost dazedly, as he watched her smile.

“Thank you!”

Without thinking, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. Rhys tensed, and at that moment Feyre remembered that she was still soaking wet from the rain. Wincing, she hastily pulled away before he had a chance to return her hug.

“Sorry. I got excited.” She glanced down to see the small puddle on the floor beneath her and cringed. “I should probably go.”

“Hm? Oh.” Rhys cleared his throat and nodded, “Right. You probably want to change into something dry.”

“Yeah.” They both stood there awkwardly staring at each other, not sure what to say next.

“Okay,” Feyre picked up her bag and took a step towards the door. “I’m just gonna...” She trailed off as she and Rhys pivoted around each other so that she was closer to the door.

He walked with her the last few steps, pausing when she opened the door and turned back to him.

“Thank you, Rhys. For the paintbrush, and for not making me stand outside like a drowned cat all night.”

His laugh made Feyre crack a smile.

“Anytime Feyre, darling.”

She smiled.

“Goodnight Rhys.”

He mirrored her smile.

“Goodnight Feyre.”

Maybe getting locked out wasn’t so bad, after all.

***

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#feyre archeron #rhysand #rhys #rhys x feyre #feyre x rhysand #feysand #feysand fic #feysand au #fanfic #fanfiction #au #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #oneshot #feyre

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sunlightheidi · 3 years

Text

Jihyun Kim "V" x Reader/MC

AU Fantasy, written for the Mystic Dance Event, hosted by the lovely @little-butterfly-writes. Roles provided, "Princess x Court Painter".

"I'll meet you in the forest, let's let this wild thing grow."

- Forest, Fancy Hagood

Jihyun was chosen from a neighboring kingdom to paint the royal family.

It was an honor, to be selected as the court artist; for his art to hang on the palace walls alongside portraits of previous kings and queens.

There are countless tales told throughout the kingdoms; stories of the ruthless king who commanded the armies, of the regal queen who could turn men into stone with a simple look.

And of the stoic crowned princess, who possessed the ethereal beauty of the fae, and the same coldness too.

He’s painted that captivating beauty on canvas more than once; has traced the dip of your collarbone, the fullness of your lips, the almond shape of your eyes with his paintbrush so many times he can do it from memory alone.

You are always seated on that golden throne when he does, decorated in sapphires and dressed in layers of silk and lace – always watching him with a sort of fascination as he paints, a sparkling wonder in your gaze.

You sit on that throne now, your head held high, waves of black hair falling down your back, and a crown of rowan berries on your brow. Your dress is golden, accentuating the sun-touched colors of your skin and the darkness of your eyes as they roam over the ballroom to the people dancing and celebrating the return of autumn.

There is a sort of hypnotic magic about you and he sees it perfectly then, how you truly could have been fairy in a past life; sparkling wings on your back, adorned in colors of orange and red and yellow as you sat on a throne of marigolds and ruled over the autumn court.

Perhaps you may have even allowed yourself to dance amongst your folk, lost in the addicting taste of pomegranates as you moved freely to the wild music.

But that is not who you are now. Not who are you expected to be.

You do not partake in the autumn celebration with your people, you are not allowed to laugh and dance in the way he knows you desire to. In the way you have so freely danced and laughed by his side in hidden corridors.

Your only purpose is to serve your kingdom, and outside of your clandestine meetings with him, you play your role flawlessly. No one would dare suggest otherwise.

If only they knew the restlessness that lingers in your heart. The same kind and wild heart you have given to him– a secret belonging to you both alone.

The music ends and you clap gently in your lap, almost unconsciously, as most of your mannerisms are – but your eyes are dazed, he knows your thoughts are elsewhere.

He has been hounded by daydreams of you as well, wishes he could stand in front of that throne and take your hand as an equal; to lead you to the ballroom floor and hold you in his arms as you sway together, just as you have done many times before in the dark.

The orchestra begins to play a new piece, something slow and soft that echoes through the ballroom; the chandeliers shimmer from the high ceiling as partners retake their place and begin a new dance.

Carefully, as to not draw attention to yourself, you stand, hands gripping the skirts of your dress as you curtsey to the king and queen, who briefly nod in your direction in permission to take your leave. He follows you with his eyes as you walk down the steps of the podium and to the large entryway, but something catches his attention – a golden satin ribbon, left behind on the seat of your throne.

You have played this game before, he knows what the token means; and when he looks up, in a single moment that freezes time, you look over your shoulder and meet his gaze. He nods in understanding, and there’s a sparkle in your eye as you close the doors behind you.

He wants to run after you, to spin you around in his arms and declare his fidelity to you in front of the world. But you are a princess…and he is only the court painter – the consequences should anyone discover you two together, of the things you have done under secrecy, would end in tragedy.

So he waits, and when the kingsmen turn to assist their majesties to the ballroom floor, Jihyun slips through the entryway and weaves down dark corridors and forgotten doors.

He is lost in a haze to get to you, has waited eagerly for weeks to spend time with you, and not the person you pretend to be for everyone else. He wants your silly laughter and teasing smiles, your fondness for flowers and furry forest creatures.

In an unlit corner of an unused passageway, there is a door that blends into the stone of the walls, it is not easily seen in the dark, but Jihyun knows exactly where it is and how to twist the lock to the room that has become his haven.

He steps through the low archway and closes the door behind him, feels a sort of relief when he turns to find you watching him.

It is indescribable, how painfully beautiful you are illuminated by the candlelight – woven in golden and waiting for him.

He bows, deeply. “Princess.”

And then, the respectable haze you have found yourselves in for weeks vanishes.

In an instant, you wrench yourself forward into him, tackling him into something fierce. He grasps you, cradling you safely in his arms as you wiggle in your happiness.

“Jihyun,” you whisper against his chest, nose buried in the hilt of his tailcoat. “I was afraid you would not come.”

He pushes you back, enough to look into your eyes and trace the outline of your cheekbone with his thumb. “Of course I came. I cannot deny you a single thing, nor do I wish to.”

“I did not think I would have the time to slip by their attention tonight, I am eternally grateful their minds are elsewhere.”

“Do you need to get back?” he asks, wrapping his arms around your waist; already dreading having to part.

“Not yet, not so soon.” You reach for him, stand on the tip of your toes and brush your lips against his in the softest of kisses. “I have missed you terribly.”

“As have I, darling,” he whispers against your mouth. “I have to stop myself constantly from reaching for you in the hallways.”

An impish smile graces your lips, sly and conniving. He imagines this must be how the fae tempt humans into their world.

“You are certainly free to touch me now, in whatever way you desire.”

He catches up quickly, as he tightens the hold on your waist and brings his lips to yours – warm breath and honey taste – soft and slow, memorizing every part of this moment.

He rubs small circles on your back just above your waist, feeling the silky material of your dress as you put your arms around his neck, bringing him in as close as you possibly can. And when you pull back to catch your breath, you smile at him slyly, all hooded eyes and flushed cheeks, bottom lip between your teeth.

“Pray tell, you wicked thing. What enchantment have you placed on me?”

A soft laugh, no more than an exhale, ghosts across the side of his neck, raising goosebumps across his skin. You stand so close he can smell the sweetness of the roses pressed onto your skin, the floral scent instantly hauling him back to an afternoon in the court gardens, where you hid behind large rose bushes and he pressed you against the grass and kissed you until sundown.

“It was the pomegranate seeds I fed to you in the garden” you whisper, playfully. “It was faerie food, meant to entrap you to my side for the rest of your days.”

“You could have simply asked me,” he replies. “My answer would have been yes.”

Your eyes go soft, but sparkle suddenly in the way they do when you decide to be cheeky. “But that would be a waste of a perfectly ripe pomegranate, do you not agree?”

He bites at the pout of your lip in reprimand, feeling satisfied with the redness there when he pulls back. “Do you truly have a response for everything?”

“I thought you liked my mouth,” you say, just a fraction shy and very much teasing as your hands wonder down his chest.

“I do, it’s perfectly sweet.” His hand firmly cradles your chin and he leans in until your breath is upon his lips. “Do not divert, my dove. Will you share with me what has been on your mind tonight? You have been on a cloud all evening.”

Your eyes open in surprise, but smile softly at him as he holds your face between his hands. His thumb traces your berry lips and your eyes flutter shut in resignation.

“I have tried, for a very long time, to find dignity in my role.” He notes the softness of your voice, mixed in with the bitter resentment he’s only caught glimpses of before. When your eyes flutter open, there is sadness. “I have found nothing, and I am tired of it all. I do not know who I am beyond what I’m told to be, and I do not care for it any longer. I wish to please only you.”

Your eyes are suddenly and incredibly soft as they hold onto his, your fingertips tracing his hipbones, moving up his abdomen. He brushes a gentle stroke of his lip against yours, flashing loving eyes as if to say what neither of you has found the courage to admit yet.

“You have shone light upon my dreams, Jihyun. But there is no room for you in my life, and you deserve to be with someone that will not be a threat to your own.”

He is hardly ever angry; he finds he does not care much for such emotions. But in this moment, he feels an inexplicable sadness and fear that you will disappear before he has the chance to tell you how truly his life belongs to you.

“Should you wish to end things with me, I will retreat immediately without a word and pretend nothing has happened. But do not make decisions for me. I wish to be with you, in whatever manner possible. If these meetings are all that I will ever have, then I will have this over nothing.”

Light laughter erupts from your throat and you quickly slip one hand from his chest to muffle the unexpected sound. Tears spring from your eyes at last, a blend of humor and grief.

“I wish I could kiss you and make you king.”

He gently takes hold of your soft hands, engulfing them in his calloused ones. He notices the pleasant shiver that runs up your spine at the intimate gesture.

“I do not want to be king, I just want to be with you,” he admits.

You are quiet for a long time, contemplative. He brushes tendrils of your hair off your shoulder, feels your collarbones beneath his fingertips.

“We are in love, aren’t we?” You whisper, and there’s a sort of hesitancy there, as if you have only just realized what this could mean for both of you – the inevitable heartbreak that is destined.

From the very moment your worlds collided – he knew he would fall in love with you. And as he has come to know you – eyes alive like wildflowers and smiles that carry sunshine – he dreams of nothing more than to meet his fate by your side.

“I love you, with everything that I possess.”

“Then run away with me,” you plead, putting yourself nose to nose with him, his blue wisps of hair against your forehead. “Let’s go to another land. Somewhere far away where we can be close to an ocean and have a garden of roses.”

“Your father will send kingsmen after us,” he warns quietly, stoic beneath your hands, hesitant to reciprocate. “He will not be merciful.”

You shake your head fiercely, speak one last offer of clarity. “My father cares not for what may happen to me, he never has. He has two more children he can crown.”

“If you are sure about this, I believe King Han may grant us sanctuary should we reach his borders. I have known him since we were children, and Jumin can be ruthless, but he is fair. Though I must warn you, once we reach his castle, your title will be stripped.”

“I do not want to be a princess, I just want you,” you whisper and lean into him, press a breeze of a kiss to the corner of his mouth, another against his jawline. “Promise you will meet me at midnight, out in the forest.”

The sweetness of you has long burned away his fear, and in its place a mellow kind of anticipation has taken hold. He takes your hand in his and brings it up to his lips.

“As you wish,” he mumbles against your palm and you giggle joyfully before you throw your arms around his neck.

And for everything he believes in, your face is as precious as all the jewels and gemstones of any kingdom; it is the smile you grace him with upon his yes, shining with the power of a thousand suns, that confirm he has found the world’s greatest fortune.

#I was so hesitant to post this #but fuck it #here it is #enjoy #jihyun kim #jihyun kim x reader #mystic messenger #v mysme #v route #v mysme fanfic #v mysme x reader #v mystic messenger #Jihyun Kim fanfic #Jihyun Kim mysme #Jihyun Kim mystic messenger #period/fantasy au #the mystic dance #mint palace ball

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ohallthecrushes · 3 years

Text

Keep calm and carnival on

A/N: @deangirldream requested a fluffy fluff. Thank you for it! ^^ It was a joy to write it. I was trying to put jokes and a lot of fluff to it. I hope you like it. 🙂

Summary: You went to see your clown at work and you ended behind a tent with your face painted up by Carnival. Cause you as his clown girlfriend have to look like one!

Words count:2016

It was a long weekend as most people had three days off of work and almost everyone had some plans of how to spend these days. Most wanted to spend it with their loved ones and you were one of them.

Unfortunately, most people didn't mean everyone, someone always had to work and this time it was Artie. He had a really busy days ahead of him. A small festival was happening in a park and Arthur as Carnival was one of the clowns that were performing there. You promised him that you'd go to see him as soon as you finished your chores, and you kept your promise as you were already heading to the park to greet him and spend some time watching him in his natural environment. There was something delightful and uplifting in how a person could thrive when they did something they loved. And watching Carnival was really joyful and entertaining.

You couldn't wait to see your boyfriend, but as soon as you got there, you realized you didn't know where to find him. It was more crowded than you expected and every few meters there was another small tent with something fun to do or to buy. Arthur had to be in one of them.

You spent some time walking aimlessly from one tent to another, enjoying the weather and a cheering atmosphere. You saw one clown but not with green curls and you waved to Gary as you noticed him in a crowd. He waved you back and pointed to the right, showing you where you could find Arthur. Sweet Gary, he was as helpful as always.

Your feet took you to the green tent as you almost ran the rest of your way there. There was a small group of people standing in front of it, mostly children so you didn't have a problem to see your favorite clown dancing and singing a song to kids. They were all amused and laughing, and you could see it was giving Carnival a motivation to put even more effort into his performance. You stood there for a moment, enjoying him dancing, and looking at kids happy faces. There was only you and Carnival and the happy crowd, nothing else. No problems, no work, no shitty people, no difficult situations. One of those rare happy moments that you wanted to frame in your mind so you could come back to it any time.

Carnival made a cute spin with his hands threw aside in a comical and ending manner as he finished his dance with a bow. He spotted you and sent you a big smile before he waved his hand to you, showing to come to him now. His gesture was a bit theatrical and funny, but Arthur liked to stay in his character for as long as he could.

- Hi there, Carnival - you said with a smile before you came closer to give him a kiss to his cheek. But as you leaned towards him, your foot tripped on his big clowny shoe and you fell on him. He caught your arms and chuckled.

- You can't help it but fall for me, ha? - he joked.

- What can I say? - you shrugged - Your charm is irresistible.

You leaned again, this time without stumbling, and gave him a peck on his cheek. He smiled and you were sure he blushed, but the white paint covered the redness.

- Mr Caaarnivaaal - a soft squealing voice came from behind you - Is that your wiiife?

You looked behind you at a small girl with a lollipop and you gave her a smile.

- Soon to be, yeah. She's my girlfriend - Carnival responded, his voice full of proud, and you turned your head to him so fast you could hear something in your neck cracked.

What? Did he mean it?

He didn't look at you but he noticed the surprised look on your face. His hand found yours and gave it a squeeze.

- But she's not a clown? - the little girl questioned with a suspicious stare. For her the only proper girlfriend for a clown was of course another clown. Simple as that.

- How can you tell she's not? - Carnival leaned down to her height level and raised an eyebrow.

- Because she's not looking like one.

- Oh! You're right - a faked shock appeared on his face - we should change that than, shouldn't we?

The little girl nodded approvingly and Carnival chuckled before he pulled you with him.

- One moment, smart one - he said to her while pointing his index finger up in the air as you both disappeared behind the green tent.

- What are you doing? - you asked with curiosity - You want to changed me into one of your kind?

Mhmh - he nodded smirking - Wait a moment, ok?

He went into the tent and after a moment you saw him back with two stools and a set of grease paints and brushes.

- Are you serious? - you chuckled as he asked you to sit - Can you even disappear behind the tent like that? Won't Hoyt be angry?

- I'm on a break - he shrugged - Besides... - he reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter - I haven't smoked for four freaking hours.

He lightened the cigarette and took a deep breath.

- Better? - you asked as you watched a ball of smoke leaving his mouth.

He nodded with a smirk as he took another puff and sat down on the other stool.

You sat down too and watched as he was setting up his supplies, putting them on a grass, choosing the right brushes and colors for you.

- Alright - he said with a smile as he picked up a large brush - Let's get it started.

You giggled like a child when he leaned towards you with a white paint on the top of the brush. The smell of it was familiar to you, since you smell it often from Arthur. You tasted it a bit even when you were kissing him with the greasepaint still on his face. But you'd never known the feeling of it on your own skin. When he was slowly painting your face, starting from your cheek, you closed your eyes and focused on how that felt. The paint wasn't cold as you thought it would be, the smell was stronger, yet bearable. It tickled sometimes, especially around your mouth.

- How does it feel? - his voice came closer to you.

- Nice.

When he finished painting your face white - the blank canvas he needed to create his work - he picked up the smaller brush, more pointed, and chose the first color to frame your eyes with. He told you to keep your eyes closed, and your chin had been lifted as he carefully started coloring your eyes. The smell of greasepaint mixed with the smell of a cigarette and you wrinkled your nose.

- That was cute - he said as he picked up another brush to put a different color on you. This time red. This was going to be your new smile. Oh, that was going to be great. He had a chance to put a smile on your face, but in a different way than usual. This time it was going to be almost permanent. He was sure you'd look beautiful when he finished.

- That's tickling - you chuckled as he brushed the paint across your lips.

- I know. It's like that until you get used to it.

- Am I going to look like you? - you opened your eyes. You wished there was a mirror so you could look at yourself.

- No, a little different. I'm using colors that you like the most.

- Oh, that's going to be awesome.

He nodded and took the cigarette between his lips. It was hanging from his mouth as he leaned a bit closer to you, putting his free hand on your tight. He wanted to touch you, he hadn't touched you much today and the last time was 10 minutes ago when you fell into his arms. You were more addicting than cigarettes.

- Now hush, sweety, we don't want you to have red teeth. It would scare the kids away.

You smirked as you watched his eyebrows knitting together in concentration. His eyes got those more intense look as he very precisely was drawing lines on your face. It was exciting and fascinating to watch him doing something artistic, something he liked to do. You could see it in his eyes, that he was excited too and he was very focused on you. This extra attention was making you feel like a princess. Clown princess. You would even like that title.

He inhaled the last time before taking the cigarette from his mouth to throw it onto the ground.

- Done! - he tilted his head as he admired his work, checking if everything was done correctly - You look beautiful.

- I wish I could see myself now. I don't have any mirror.

- There's a mirror inside the tent. You can look at yourself while dressing up.

- Dressing up?

- Yeah, there's a trunk there too. I think there should be a costume you could try on.

- Wait, you want me to perform?- you laughed as you got up - I don't know how.

- You know how, you watched me so many times. We will dance together and sing songs. It's easy you'll see - he said hyped as he took your hand in his - and you can make animals from balloons with me.

- Artie... - you chuckled but agreed to his idea - you know the only animal I can make from a balloon is a snake.

- That will do - he chuckled.

You helped him with supplies and he left you inside the tent, giving you time to dress up. You couldn't wait and you looked in a mirror to see what he'd created on your face. You were amazed. The colors he picked, your favorite ones, were very vibrant and he did an amazing job bringing them together into something colorful and matching.

You wanted to admire his work longer, but at the same time you didn't want him to wait for you.

You looked around and found the trunk. You opened it and picked up the first costume that was there. It was a little too big for you, but was comfortable enough to dance with it. And it even matched Carnival's outfit. After a while you decided to stay in your shoes however, there was no way you could dance or even walk in those big clown ones. You wondered how Arthur could do it.

When you were ready you went outside and when Arthur saw you he did that funny little jumps clapping his hands with excitement. You laughed as you walked over to him to stand beside him. He took your hand and swirled you around before he looked at the small girl that was still there, sucking on her lollipop. Her eyes opened wide in shock. Your transformation was spectacular to her.

You swayed shyly to the rhythm of a song playing somewhere in the background. Arthur was already doing a little dance facing you as he swirled you around one more time. You tried to mimic his movement and have fun, and soon you both were facing the crowd, doing some funny silly dance together. The kids were curious and seemed to like you.

The small girl came to you pulling her lollipop out of her mouth.

- You are Ms Carnival! - she said as she smiled at you.

You nodded and smiled back as you glanced at your boyfriend. You started to enjoy it more and more, gaining some confidence along the way. It indeed was easy like Arthur said. Actually, with Arthur, everything seemed to be easy. If you already didn't have a job, you could maybe work at Haha's with Arthur. You could just dance and sing and play around and entertain kids. You wouldn't have to do anything else and kids still would be impressed.

The girl pulled you by your sleeve bringing you down to Earth.

- Can you do any tricks?

Oh no.

#arthur fleck #joker #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck x reader #joker x reader #joker x you #joker fanfiction #arthur fleck fanfic

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mitthsyndic · 3 years

Text

Here is my second attempt at writing Thrawn, much longer this time! Again if you have any criticisms or feedback then please feel free to share!

Read on AO3.

Summary: Lieutenant Thrawn meets the reader (gender neutral) at the Ascension Week celebrations on Coruscant, and she offers to show him around her art gallery. (Based roughly on the 2017 Thrawn book).

Pairing: Thrawn x Reader (gender neutral, Thrawn is still a Lieutenant at this point).

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,715.

A Keen Eye

If you'd learned at least one thing from your meeting with Lieutenant Thrawn, it was that he was passionate about art.

He wasn't simply an admirer or even a collector; he'd told you in detail about how he used an enemy's artwork in order to anticipate their tactics in battle, and ultimately defeat them. From what you could gather from his companions, this proved to be effective far more often than not. Your own companions scoffed dismissively at these claims, and not so politely ushered your group away from Thrawn towards more powerful, influential partygoers.

However, you believed you could understand where Thrawn was coming from, and you felt compelled to see his analysis in action. After all, it wouldn’t exactly be an inconvenience to you, as he could simply meet you at your own art gallery here on Coruscant. Furthermore, it didn’t take a keen eye for art to notice Thrawn’s strikingly good looks; his dark blue skin and illuminating red eyes caused him to stand out among the other guests, and he was what drew you over here in the first place. If he didn’t appear to be interested in any romantic prospects, you figured you could at least have some fascinating discussions about the pieces in your gallery.

"I had best follow my companions. However, Lieutenant Thrawn, I'd like to observe your analysis of artwork and the military conclusions you draw in person. Please, take my comm details and contact me to arrange a meeting at my gallery - that is, if you have any spare time." You smiled at him as you offered him your comlink.

His eyes flicked briefly between your face and the comlink, as though he was unsure how to proceed. You tried to read his face; it was unwavering and unreadable. Well, almost. You could have sworn you saw the corner of his mouth slightly upturn into a smile.

Taking your comlink and quickly inputting his details, he responded coolly, "That would be most pleasant. Allow me to check my schedule for my remaining days on Coruscant, and I shall respond with my availability."

As he handed you back your comlink, your fingers brushed for a brief second. The fleeting contact was intoxicating, yet his expression remained unvarying. It was almost impossible to tell how he felt about the momentary brush of your hands, or if he could tell that your proposition was identical to that of a date.

"Of course. It was delightful meeting the three of you, and I hope to see you again soon." Politely smiling at Ensign Vanto and Colonel Yularen, you reluctantly trailed after your friends, leaving you with the rest of the evening to reflect on your meeting with Lieutenant Thrawn.

It was late; with your thoughts consumed by your encounter with Thrawn, you had left the celebrations and gone to bed at your apartment on Coruscant. Awoken by the faint alert of your comlink, you drowsily sat up and picked it up, allowing the incoming transmission through.

“Apologies if I woke you. This is Lieutenant Thrawn.” His smooth voice echoed out of the comlink.

“No, not at all. And, please, there’s no need for titles when we’re alone.” You boldly suggested. From what you could gather, Thrawn was exceptionally good at reading body language and tone, so you tried to convey your desire for a more informal relationship, in case he hadn’t gathered the implications behind your invitation.

“Of course.” You were certain you could hear a smile behind his voice. “This may be of short notice, but I will only remain on Coruscant for another day. There is a lapse in my schedule tomorrow evening, and I leave the following morning. I would like to see the works in your gallery, and hopefully demonstrate my... abilities to you then.”

He was incredibly difficult to read -even more so when you couldn’t see him in person, but you were sure that you could detect a hint of flirtation in his tone.

“Tomorrow evening works for me. Allow me to send you its location. If you need any directions or your schedule suddenly changes, then feel free to contact me. I’ve got my comlink on me at all times.”

“Thank you. I look forward to meeting you again soon.” Your comlink clicked off, and Thrawn was gone once again.

You laid back down and allowed your mind to drift off to sleep, thoughts consumed by the mysterious Lieutenant Thrawn and your ‘date’ tomorrow.

You’d spent all day debating on whether or not to close the gallery and give Thrawn a private tour, and, eventually, you decided against it. It was never busy at this time of night anyway, and you didn’t want to appear too forward if you had in fact misinterpreted his intentions, and he really was here to only demonstrate his analytical abilities. Then came the matter of your outfit; he’d provided a rough estimation of his time of arrival, so you couldn’t exactly run off and change into something more ‘date-worthy’ before he arrived, but if you dressed in your regular work clothes then Thrawn may believe that this meeting was strictly business. After much deliberation, you’d settled on an in between that appeared professional, yet a little flirtatious.

Once that was sorted, all you had to do was wait. Many admirers came and went, as did the occasional interested buyer, yet the minutes passed by slowly as you anxiously anticipated his arrival. Normally, you would consider yourself a fairly confident, collected individual, if somewhat an overthinker, but in comparison to Thrawn? You felt almost neurotic.

Although he’d spent almost a full day now preoccupying your mind, all coherent thoughts dissipated out of your head once he finally stepped into your gallery. He was precisely on time, and wearing simple black garments that had presumably been issued to him by the Empire upon his admission into the academy. From what Colonel Yularen had said, Thrawn had been practically discovered by the Empire, as his home planet was not in a region familiar to you. He also hadn’t mentioned what species he was; at first guess he appeared to be Pantoran, yet his glowing red eyes suggested otherwise. You made a mental note to ask him at some point this evening. Furthermore, you realised he actually hadn’t told you his last name -or maybe he hadn’t told you his first name? As your lack of true knowledge about the man who stood in front of you became more and more apparent, it began to feel like an incredibly stupid idea to invite him here.

Though, it was too late to do anything about that now. I guess I’ll have to make sure I learn everything I didn’t think to ask, you thought as you approached him. His expression was indecipherable, as, you began to suspect, it always was.

“Welcome, Thrawn. May I call you that, or is that your surname? I didn’t think to ask yesterday.” You bit the bullet and chewed your way through the awkward question.

“It is Mitth'raw'nuruodo. My native language is Cheunh, and Chiss is the name of my species.” He broke eye contact and looked around at the gallery, and you did the same. Currently, it was just the two of you in there. “May I ask how you came to acquire the gallery and its pieces?”

Though, Thrawn didn’t appear to find it awkward at all. Your eyes locked, and that same small smile you identified the night before appeared on his face. “Yes, you may call me Thrawn. That is my core name, as Chiss names can be difficult for many species to pronounce.”

“Ah, I understand. May I hear it anyway? And, is Chiss the name of your language then?” You asked delicately, although Thrawn appeared unbothered by your questions.

“Well, I’ve had a passion for art since I was very little, both painting and admiring it. I practiced as much as I could with every bit of free time I had, and I took any even remotely artistic jobs. If a neighbour wanted their walls painted, I’d do it for free and they’d let me keep any leftover paint afterwards. All of my money went towards buying canvases, sketchbooks, paint, brushes, even spray cans. Sometimes I’d even spray paint murals, though I think everyone else saw that as graffiti and vandalism rather than art.” You paused, and the two of you locked eyes again. He was listening intently, so you decided to continue on. “Anyway, as I got older I’d sell my paintings, but it didn’t provide enough money for me to live on, so I begged Zena, the old owner of the gallery, to give me a job here. I did small things at first, like sweeping floors and cleaning picture frames, but eventually I got to lead tours and meet with other artists. When she retired, she left the place to me, and here we are now.”

Thrawn paused for a few moments, as though he was fully taking in and understanding your words. “How fascinating. Do you still paint now?” Thrawn began to walk slowly towards the closest painting on display.

“Yes, whenever I have any inspiration or time.” You followed close behind, intently watching his focused stare on the painting in front of him.

He then turned back to you, and stopped just before the painting. “Is any on display? May I see it?” He questioned.

“No, it’s all in the back in our studio. Plus, I’ve never fought any kind of battle in my life, so I doubt you’re going to be able to observe any military tactics from my paintings.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Many do not realise exactly what their artwork can reveal about themselves or their culture as a whole. So, although you may have never fought before, I could look at your work and anticipate your possible movements and strategies if we were to engage in battle, whether that be in a ship or in hand to hand combat. I have demonstrated it in this particular way once previously with a friend.”

He noticed the slightly apprehensive look on your face, and smiled. “Of course, we do not have to fight. That would not be very typical behaviour on a date, would it?”

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #star wars #fanfic

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riddleblack246 · 3 years

Photo

For @scoobydean and @destielsecretsanta2020

“This could be nice for Jack.”

“’My First Christmas’. Cas, this is meant for babies.”

“It’s still his first Christmas with us.”

“That mean we should get one for you too?”

“If you’d like.”

Read below for some Team Free Will 3.0 holiday head canons~!

After everything goes down with Jack makes use of his new abilities, Sam and Dean are much more willing to fight to keep him with them. He initially wonders if it is because he’s “useful” to them now. The brothers promptly inform him that no, it’s because this is the first time where they can all feel safe enough to take a breath. Sure, they’re still hunters. But after everything they’ve been through, they all deserve a chance to enjoy life without constantly looking over their shoulders. And so Jack stays.

As promised, he brought back those that were loved and lost. Obviously everyone is relieved and thankful, but that is most clearly seen in the return of Eileen and Castiel. Sam and Eileen are quick to pick up where they left off. Castiel, however, is a bit more hesitant. He didn’t expect to ever see Dean again. He truly thought he wouldn’t have to know Dean’s feelings and when he confessed, he felt he could live with that. But now he’s suddenly back in this world, aware of his existence and the knowledge that he told the man he’d been in love with for over a decade how he felt. But Dean doesn’t allow him to panic for long. Enveloping Cas in his arms, he’s squeezing the angel’s vessel so tightly that he can barely get out the words. Nonetheless, he does and finally returns the sentiment that Castiel never expected to hear.

“I love you too, Cas.”

And now to dig into holiday centric joys!

By the time Christmas rolls around, the bunker’s primary couples have developed a sense of routine. Eileen has finally moved in and Dean and Castiel have eased into a comfortable romantic domesticity. And for the first time in a while, there are no hunts to investigate or major threats to take on, and the Winchesters found themselves able to celebrate the holidays in a way that they hadn’t had a chance to in some time (save for the Mrs. Butters stint).

On the first of December, Dean sits down in the library and begins to make a list, trying to figure out exactly what was expected of a traditional Christmas. When Sam catches him, he expects scoffs of disagreement or just bored indifference. Instead, he supplies the idea of inviting some people to the bunker.

“What, Sammy? You want to throw a Christmas rager?” (The statement does earn him an eye roll)

“No. I just thought it might be nice. See everyone together.”

Neither of them explicitly say why it would be nice, but they know the relief that would come with seeing each person they never expected to see again. Dean tasks his brother with making a guest list and sending out an e-mail to those on it (because Dean draws the line at trying to make actual invitations).

The response is overwhelmingly positive and soon enough, they’re fielding constant texts from Garth, asking if it would be okay to bring his kids, and e-mails from Donna, offering to bake a multitude of requested holiday treats.

Amidst holiday planning, the group allows themselves to give into expectations of the season. Jack and Castiel are largely in the dark of what is or isn’t part of the holidays and while Dean, Sam, and Eileen aren’t the most immersed, they do have an idea of what is to be done and are admittedly eager to dive in.

One of the first things on Dean’s list is to decorate a tree. He even insists on cutting one down himself, as aside from various times he had to cut and sharpen his own stakes, it’s something he’s never had a chance to do. Sam, reluctant to join him, tells his brother to have fun. In the spirit of “giving”, Dean bring Cas and Jack along, assuring Sam and Eileen that they’ll “be a while ;)”. They return some hours later with a tree that rivals the Rockefeller Center and relief in the fact that they have two celestial beings to transport something of that size. Decorating it is another story.

After digging through the bunker and finding that, no, the Men of Letters did not hoard Christmas ornaments or wreaths or any such things among their piles of artifacts and cursed objects, the groups decides to get a little shopping done. They initially hit a big box store for a bunch of basics - lights, tinsel, various colored balls (Dean makes several jokes about this), but as the month goes on, all of them are guilty of picking up random items to decorate with while out.

Eileen delightedly shows her boys a Christmas pyramid she bought and is quick to tell Jack that he can’t light it whenever he wants, as forgetting about it could result in burning down the bunker.

Sam buys all of them advent calendars, each dedicated specifically to every member of the bunker. Dean doesn’t comment on Sam’s shift toward the holiday spirit, not only because he’s happy that his brother has allowed himself to be more joyfully invested in things, but also because every day for the month he gets to appreciate a new and weird specialty bottle of hot sauce. Sam’s own contains different types of tea, Eileen’s has jam, Jack’s has little LEGO figures, and Castiel’s has coffee.

Jack nearly gives Dean a heart attack one morning when the man wakes up to find a nutcracker as tall as he is in the crow’s nest. Jack tells him all about finding it in a shop he and Castiel passed when getting supplies and insisting that it was a perfect thing to have for the bunker. Dean looks to Castiel and knows the angel would have been too soft to say no. Then again, he knows he would have been just as guilty.

Castiel begins buying ornaments for people in the bunker. Even with Dean teasing him about it, he does buy a “my first Christmas” ornament and puts a photo of Jack inside that Eileen helped him print out. He finds that he is particularly fond of ornaments that contain photos and begins to buy ones for that explicit purpose.

Dean doesn’t necessarily have a type of decoration that he finds himself buying outside of what they have, but he is fond of the lights. He usually insists they stay on as long as allotted, urging whoever is the last to go to bed to turn them off (though it’s usually himself).

When it does snow, Dean is eventually irritable about it with Sam and Eileen in a similar boat, though to a lesser degree. Shoveling snow out of the way of the bunker’s entrance is a pain in the ass and none of them love the chore of getting treads on their respective tires. But seeing Jack’s fascination with it - and realizing that it’s his first time encountering snow, they find themselves softening.

After getting help in clearing access to the bunker, the group spends much of the day outside. There is an unspoken agreement that they want Jack to experience all the great enjoyments of snow and it honestly brings out the kid in them too. They build a mediocre snowman (Sam takes the heat for his poor artistic skills), make snow angels (the jokes about Castiel doing so get old within five minutes), have a snowball fight (Eileen is fucking ruthless and not above putting snow down jackets), and creating makeshift sleds to race. The sledding is what ultimately makes them go back inside. Garbage can lids are hard to steer and after Dean eats it by running into a tree and loosing a tooth, even Cas fixing it doesn’t resolve the choice to go in. Nonetheless, the accident doesn’t stall the mood, as Dean insists on introducing Jack to one more awesome component of the Traditional Snow Day - the hot chocolate at the end. Said hot cocoa almost results in a fight when, after Dean makes enough for all of them, Castiel reluctantly admits that he doesn’t care for it, and Dean and Jack nearly come to childish blows over who gets his mug. Later that evening, Castiel makes sure to thank Dean privately for allowing Jack to have it. ;)

Now, when it comes to cooking, Dean likes to consider himself pretty well-versed. Baking is another story. The preciseness that’s required is what gets him. Sure, he can be meticulous, but he’s always been more of a “little of this, a bunch of that” kind of guy over exact measurements, which leaves a lot more room for error when it comes to baking. But after going on a “Gilmore Girls” binge with Castiel (the couple constantly debates the superior show of the former and “Dr. Sexy, M.D.”), he can’t help imagining a scene of tenderly showing Cas how to roll out dough and mussing some flour in his hair and watching the angel lick the spoon in a way that borders on pornographic. The day after watching, he’s searching for cookie recipes and telling Castiel to dig out some aprons.

As is the Winchester way, this expectation does not come to fruition. Cas, as he thought, didn’t know a thing about cooking or baking. But Dean pictured being able to guide him, to do all the romantic shit you see in Hallmark movies. Instead, the angel is complaining about not being able to just will the baked goods into existence, standing in the way when Dean needs to get any kind of ingredient, and getting flour on every fucking surface in the kitchen. Things reach a boiling point when Cas pulls the cookies out of the oven, sans oven mitts, and for a brief moment, Dean’s brain operates on a panic reflex and snatches the tray from his hands. The result is their hours of baking scattered all over the floor, a dented baking sheet, and second-degree burns on the hunter’s hands. He’s huffing and cursing and he fully expects Cas to scold him and point out the obvious fact that he’s an angel and such temperatures have no effect on him. But instead, he watched Castiel pulled his hands from the faucet (having immediately shoved them under there after he burned himself) and tenderly brushes his finger tips over the wounds. Dean feels the familiar sensation of healing flesh, something he hasn’t felt in a bit and he’s silent as Cas brings the newly healed skin to his lips and presses a kiss to his palms. The irritability baking had brought them is gone. Dean lets Cas wave the kitchen clean and they decide to just go out and buy Christmas cookies instead. Later that evening, Cas’ lips taste like ginger and Dean finds that the reality is way better than the fantasy.

They ultimately end up hosting the party that started their shift into the Christmas spirit a few days before the actual holiday. After all, they know most of their friends prefer flying over driving and it might be a lot to ask them to come out on the actual holiday. But their concerns of traffic and irritated guests soon fly out the window in the face of so many familiar… well, faces. Hugs never stop coming and despite everyone’s claim that gifts would not be necessary, everyone knows that’s bullshit and a pile beneath their ridiculous tree grows with every teasing comment and expression of happy holidays.

Speaking of the tree, Castiel is quite pleased with his holiday crafting and the other members of the bunker share that sentiment. Since the angel discovered the photo-insert ornaments, he had taken it upon himself to spend random periods during the month finding photographs of each important person in their lives that he could and putting them into such items. Everyone takes joy in searching for their own picture. Claire comments that he picked a terrible one of her, but Cas hears her quietly asking Dean if she could take it home with her, as it features her and Kaia pressed close in a hug. Charlie adores her’s and insists that she wants to make the same craft, but only if they do it together. Everyone quietly appreciates the ones made for those that aren’t present to appreciate them. Jack ensures that Mary’s ornament has prime placement. Eileen hugs Sam when she catches him looking at Kevin’s for a while. Dean makes a point to kiss Castiel privately after finding Bobby’s nestled among some tinsel. Everyone agrees that their the best decorations in the place.

Hunters and those that know them have never been known to operate on a normal schedule, so it is nearly three in the morning before the bunker clears out. Some have elected to drive home if the trip was relatively easy. Others have settled into the many spare rooms that the bunker holds. Once all the gifts have been opened, the eggnog’s been drunk, and everyone has eaten their weight in treats, only Dean and Cas remain in the quiet bunker. They sit together in the library, positioned on one of the many extended seats they’d brought out to fit their guests. The lights of the enormous tree are still on at Dean’s request and Castiel can’t help staring at the way the different colors still look so beautiful on him. He glances up at the other decorations strewn about. The bows, the poinsettias (Garth had brought something like ten of them), the holly, the- He spots a familiar item of decor. He’d seen Sam and Eileen equally position themselves under it in wait of their partner, always stopping them with the insistence that a kiss must be administered before they continue on their way about the bunker. Lazily, he nudges Dean and points to the archways between the crow’s nest and the hall that leads to the bedrooms.

“Is standing beneath that a requirement for kissing?”

Dean follows his finger and huff out a laugh. Even though they hadn’t been dating long, they’d been together for so many years that he knows the angel is teasing. He turns to meet his eyes, smiling at the way the lights almost change them from blue to a rainbow of color.

“What, you want to kiss under the mistletoe? Now?”

For a moment, it seems as if he’s considering the offer. But instead, he shakes his head and reaches a hand up to cup Dean’s cheek. He knows that he could have kiss Dean under there the same way Eileen and Sam do. But he knows they’re different. Dean is a lot of thing and as much as he would deny it, one of those things is private. Their relationship is simultaneously new and so so ingrained into their life. Affection was always something there, just beneath the surface. And while he had the thing he desired for so long, that doesn’t mean he feels the need to push Dean into a realm of affection that just isn’t fitting of who they are together. Leaning forward, he captures Dean’s lips in a kiss. He tastes like eggnog and candy cane.

Castiel understands all the more that happiness is in the being. And he no longer fears his joy. Because he can’t imagine being happier than holding Dean beneath these lights and knowing that they still have tomorrow and so many days to come. There is no better present than that.

#destielsecretsanta2020 #scoobydean #supernatural #Destiel #saileen #saleen #jack kline #my posts

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ghost-in-the-hella · 3 years

Note

Could I get "39. holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition", Chasemarsh, Bless this Mess AU?

As you wish :) Same AU as Bless this Mess, but early days. (For those who haven't read Bless this Mess, it's an AU where Victoria and Kate didn't meet until they were adults and therefore Victoria had never bullied Kate) The museum in this ficlet is fictional but based on my own favorite museum, the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art.

---

“This… is a museum?” The building before her has nothing of the grandeur that Victoria has come to expect from museums. It is neither cold nor imposing, just a modest one-story building with some whimsical decorative frills around the entrance. Bright colors show through the large windows. There are bronze statues scattered around the grounds, but they’re all of creatures that look like they’d be more at home in a fairytale than at a museum. Children run around the grounds, screaming and frolicking.

“Of course it is, silly!” Kate stands next to the entrance sign and Vanna Whites a hand across the bold letters. “The Leo and Diane Dillon Museum of Children’s Book Art. See? It says ‘museum’ right there.”

Part of Victoria wants to roll her eyes, curl her upper lip, and unleash a comment so scathing Kate will feel flayed to the bone for having the temerity to call this obvious travesty a ‘museum’. Fortunately, this is the part of Victoria that - with the help of her therapist and years of hard emotional labor - she’s gotten better at catching and overcoming before it can claw its vicious way to the surface. She searches for something nice or at least neutral to say instead. She likes Kate. If she didn’t like her, she would be home marathoning something on crunchyroll in her pajamas instead of getting dressed up on a Saturday morning to go out on this date with her. She doesn’t want to scare Kate off by being needlessly rude. “It’s… not quite what I’d pictured when you invited me to go to a museum with you.”

Kate’s smile doesn’t falter as Victoria had feared. Instead, it softens into a grin that does frankly criminal things to the state of Victoria’s heart. “I know what you mean,” she says so fondly that Victoria is both certain and relieved that Kate has taken her comment as a compliment instead of a barely masked insult. “The first time I came here, I couldn’t believe my eyes.” Her eyes - such warm, lovely eyes; Victoria can’t imagine a work of art that holds a candle to those eyes in any museum - sparkle. “It’s been my favorite museum since I first set foot inside. I come here at least once a month.” She sighs rapturously and Victoria’s heart gives an embarrassing squeeze. “We’re so lucky to have such a special place so close by.”

Victoria makes a noncommittal sound, not wanting to quash Kate’s enthusiasm. Kate smiles at her and beckons playfully for Victoria to follow her as she leads the way inside. They’ve only gone on a handful of dates so far, but already Victoria suspects she’d follow Kate just about anywhere.

The museum truly is unlike any that Victoria’s ever been in before. There are so many children, for one thing. The security guards just smile at them benignly, for another. The last time Victoria was in a museum, she watched someone get chewed out by a security guard for having the audacity to take notes with a pen instead of a pencil. Had a parent been foolish enough to bring a small child inside, they would’ve been stalked by security and stared at so ominously they would soon think better of their faux pas, and perhaps reconsider their decision to reproduce altogether.

But here… Here, the children are not only encouraged to run free, they’re allowed to touch things with their grubby little child hands. Encouraged to, even; there are kiosks set up all over the room they’re in with interactive exhibits, as well as cozy reading areas all around full of children’s books, where parents and children can sit together and paw through museum property with their bare and presumably unwashed hands.

“Isn’t this place amazing?” Kate asks, her voice as warm and gooey as melted chocolate. “You can practically press your nose up against the art and not get in trouble for it. I love it. I can really get in there and see how the artists used all their different materials. It’s so inspiring!”

“I’ve never seen a place like it,” Victoria replies neutrally. Honestly, the idea of children near artwork makes her break out in nervous sweats. She tries to imagine how her parents would react to children running loose at the Chase Space. They’d probably have a coronary each. She herself wasn’t allowed to set foot in the gallery until she was solidly in double digits, and even then she’d always been treated like a disaster waiting to happen, a ticking time bomb in Mary Janes.

Kate nods in satisfaction. “It’s really special.” She gestures at the room they’re in. “This gallery always has a show of Leo and Diane Dillon’s works, plus the interactive exhibits. The specific stuff changes periodically. The gallery across the hall has shows of different works by children’s book illustrators.” She smiles bashfully, a delicious pink tinge warming her cheekbones. “It’s one of my biggest dreams to be included in one of those shows.”

Victoria stops short and blinks rapidly, trying to process. “Here?” she asks, dumbfounded. Here, where children run amok? Where your artwork will never be hung alongside that of a truly great artist?? She remembers Kate mentioning minoring in illustration in undergrad, but somehow that had never really clicked in Victoria’s brain as something important. It’s not like she’d studied photography or even painting, something Victoria would be able to sustain a deep conversation about.

“Of course here!” Kate giggles. “I illustrate children’s books. Well,” she avers with a shy shrug, “a little bit, anyway. It’s only a side hustle right now, but someday I’d like it to be a bigger part of my career.” She looks around the room and sighs dreamily. “It would be such an honor to show here.”

“Here,” Victoria repeats, her brain still struggling to compute. She’s fully being rude now; she can hear it in her voice, a shift from merely confused to straight up condescending.

But Kate just giggles again and rolls her eyes, not looking remotely fazed by Victoria's attitude. “Not every artist needs to show at the Guggenheim, Tori. Some artists dream of being showcased in the Whitney Biennial, and some dream of showing in, well, the Leo and Diane Dillon Museum of Children’s Book Art.”

The nickname throws Victoria even more than Kate’s good natured response to her blatant rudeness does. It distracts her so much she almost doesn’t notice when Kate’s fingers suddenly thread into her own. “Come on,” Kate goes on, “I’m really excited about this month’s exhibit. Have you ever heard of Mary Blair?”

There’s a firm but gentle tug at Victoria’s hand leading her toward the doors separating exhibition rooms and Victoria’s awareness sparks to life. Kate’s holding her hand. Her heart dances a little two-step as she fumbles for words. “N-no, I haven’t.” Heat flushes her cheeks and she clears her throat self-consciously. “My art history degree didn’t cover children’s book art.”

Kate nods thoughtfully as she pushes the doors open and returns the security guard’s smile and wave. “She was actually more involved with animation and concept art, especially for Disney. Murals, too. But it’s true; art history classes tend to leave illustration out as a whole. It’s such a shame, really. There’s some fascinating history there.”

Victoria’s never given a shit about illustration - for children’s books or otherwise - before, but she’s pretty sure Kate could deliver a four hour lecture on the subject and she’d have Victoria’s undivided attention for every minute. “Photography gets the shaft, too, especially in survey courses,” she says. “Anything other than art history courses specifically oriented toward photography, really. It’s like if you’re not a white cishet male painter, you don’t matter.” She shakes her head in aggravation. “As though the advent of photography didn’t change the entire course of art history, and painting in particular. Such bullshit.”

Kate gives Victoria’s hand a little squeeze, and Victoria is floored once more by the realization that Kate is holding her hand. Still. She’s not even leading Victoria anywhere anymore; they’re just standing there, holding hands. It’s astonishing. “We should write a book,” Kate suggests. “Shed some light on the more underappreciated aspects of art history.” Her tone is light and teasing but Victoria finds herself considering it seriously.

“I could probably sell that pitch,” Victoria muses. “I have some contacts in publishing. You could cover illustration, I could cover photography, we could tap my friend Taylor to cover--” She’s snapped out of her brainstorming by the sensation of Kate’s thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles. “Uh, but we can work out those details later. If you want to. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me about…” She gestures with her free hand. “...whatever’s going on here?”

Kate grins and gives her a warm nod, not letting go of her hand as she leads her to the nearest artwork. “Don’t be scared to get up good and close,” Kate instructs her, tugging her closer. “We’re not at the Met, don’t forget.”

Victoria scoffs. “As if I could forget that.” She lets Kate pull her closer til she’s scant inches from the art and her shoulder is pressed firmly against Kate’s. “Close to the art… or to you?” she asks softly. She doesn’t know how to look at art this closely; it all blurs to abstraction as she waits for an answer.

“Both,” Kate replies seconds before a tender kiss presses bold and warm against Victoria’s cheek.

#ghost writes #prompt fic #prompt fill #life is strange #fanfic #prompt ghost #chasemarsh #victoria chase #kate marsh

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