#van gogh clone high x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theclassclone · 4 months

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Request Guidelines and Status

[Requests: Closed]

**Please note that this list can and will be updated as time goes on. There are things I didn't think of to add and they will be added if you come up with them. And if you have any questions PLEASE ASK ME.

Request Guidelines, Below The Cut:

Please Provide the Following

WHO? Character, Reader (with preferred Gender and Pronouns), my OCs. RELATIONSHIP? Familial, other Platonic, Romantic. PLOT. What do you want to see happen during this piece? Does it take place during an episode? Prompt? Additional Information. Do you want some angst or fluff sprinkled in alongside the PLOT? If there is no provided PLOT, do you want angst or fluff? Use this space to also let me know any additional information I should touch on that you want included in the story.

What I Will Write

ANGST FLUFF RELATIONSHIPS: As I mentioned above, I will write Familial, Platonic, and Romantic relationships. READER INSERTS: Please include Gender and Pronouns. I do tend to default to Female because I am Female and that is what I do for some reason. I'm about as inclusive as Abe, you need to spell it out for me. OC INSERTS: If you like one of my OCs enough to want to see more of them, by all means, ask for it. I do not typically write for anyone else's OCs (this is largely due to the fact that I know my own OCs, not yours and for some reason in the past people didn't understand that they needed to tell me about their OC). But this is Clone High, this is cringe, this is satire and parody. If you really believe in me, send me your OCs. If you, for some demented reason, think your OC and my OC need to interact, by all means, I will write it. Additional Things. Disabilities, Insecurities, Episodes, Crack Fics.

What I Will NOT Write

(granted, this does not account for Clone High typical violence/injury/etc).

(If you see something on this list that you want, i.e., abuse and want to see if I'm open to what you have in mind, literally just ask me. You have SOME wiggle room with Clone High, the worst I'll say is no lol. I use this guideline across all fandoms, but there are definitely things I won't budge on like incest and smut. My uninterested ass won't say yes).

SELF-HARM: You can ask for this as part of a backstory, but not ongoing. EATING DISORDERS: You can ask for this as part of a backstory, but not ongoing. INCEST ABUSE: We can discuss this because of the implications and nature of Clone High. You have wiggle room in this fandom. It is very dependent on what you want, this is literally only here because I cannot write to save my life, otherwise it wouldn't be here, NGL. SMUT/LEMONS/LIMES & SIMILAR: Just because I'm an adult, who may or may not have first-hand experience, does not mean I know how to write about it. Also, I straight up don't find the appeal in writing or engaging IRL. Personal thing. POLY-SHIPS: No hate, just because I am an adult, does not mean I have first-hand experience or even know someone in this type of relationship. Personal thing, again. CHARACTERS: There is a list of CHARACTERs that I will not do; this is subject to change, and I know for a fact I am missing exclusions:

Gandhi (No Romance, sorry ladies, until the G-spot returns to canon, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do, you're luck you get anything)

Candide Sampson (She's not canon to me LMAO)

Marie Curie

Genghis Khan

Vincent van Gogh (No Romance)

Nostradamus

Moses

MLK Jr (No Romance)

Malcom X

Sigmund Freud (I'm a psych major. So, if you know, you know)

OTHER THINGS: At this time the only other thing I will typically turn down is Character/Character, I typically do these in the sense of CHARACTER A is the child of B and C. Clone High is a different breed of fuckery, so you never know.

**GIF not mine**

#request guidelines #fanfic request guidelines #clone high request guidelines #clone high fanfic request guidelines #theclassclone request guidelines #drstrangefictions request guidelines #yes thats my other account and my ao3 name deal with it

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xseizure-candyx · 2 years

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🌠💛🌻✨

#clone high van gogh #clone high #clone high van gogh x reader #clone van gogh #digital drawing

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robin-the-enby · 2 years

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Heyyy!! I rlly love your account, could you do a clone high Van Gogh x reader?? I love the lil guy so much and cant find much content about him :(

could the reader be a closed off person who doesn’t let many people into their life or get close to them, I have a hard time letting down my walls so something about Vincent just approaching the reader and shyly starting a conversation and the reader rlly liking him and letting him into their life would be rlly nice

also if the reader could be an artist or writer that would be cool :) no problem if you don’t wanna do it!!

A thousand times yes!

Pairing: Vincent van Gogh x gn!reader

Warnings: use of they/them pronouns (putting this here just in case)

A/N: Ok, this was requested when requests were closed, but I kept it, just because I haven't written anything for Clone high in a long time, so consider yourself lucky :D Also this really reminds me of my Clone high oc, Art. So if you'd like to read about them, you can find the first two parts on my masterlist <3

(Y/N) - your name

(Y/S) - your surname

Another day, another lunch.

Another time spent by him starting at them from afar.

Others might say they weren't that interesting, but Vincent couldn't disagree more.

They met during one of his art classes. They came in to model and Vincent immediately felt drawn to them, despite not being sure why. It was everything about them that made him curious, something he wasn't used to. Especially with other people, since most of the time they made him wary more than anything.

But not them, no. Everything about them was peculiar, their pose, their expression, their eyes...oh god, their eyes. There was so much hidden emotion in them, it made Vincent feel like an explorer in front of a new adventure or a curious child standing in front of a dark forest.

After that fateful class, he found out he noticed them around more. Like in the school caffeteria for example. They always sat alone or with a small group of friends, but they always seemed reserved or didn't talk at all. Sometimes a very scary frown blossomed on their face at a sensitive question or a remark that hit too close to home.

And each lunch did Vincent sit just a tad closer to their usual table, but never quite gaining the courage to fully face his classmate.

But this day, he made up his mind. He was going to talk to them. No buts, no excuses. And so before he gave himself the chance to talk himself out of it yet again, he got up and marched straight to their table with a determined expression set on his stubbly face.

He stopped right next to them, his lunch in hand. They quietly raised their head and looked at him with an unsure expression "Can I help you?" they asked. Vincent's determination instantly dissapeared as he got out, not without struggle "Is this seat taken?" he more mumbled than said and they smirked "Sure thing."

Vincent awkwardly sat across them, both continuing to eat their lunch in quiet. While Vincent was beating himself up for not knowing what to say next, they took a bite out of their lunch and raised their head once again "I remember you." Vincent whipped his head up from his meal to look at them "Re-really?" he asked, shocked. They noticed him? When? Oh god, he hoped they hadn't noticed him staring at them.

His worries were soothed soon enough though, when they said "Yeah, you're van Gogh, right? I remember you from art class when I volunteered to pose that one time." Vincent blushed and shyly asked "How do you know my name?" they grinned "Dude, everyone was talking about you when you made that sick painting of Gandhi that one time!" they exclaimed and giggled. If Vincent wasn't blushing then, he sure was now.

"Yeah, can't stand the guy." he mumbled and looked to the side. They only shrugged "He's alright. He can be a douchebag sometimes though." they nodded. After that, they looked teasingly at Vincent "Any other questions?" Vincent kept looking away as he nodded his head "What's your name?" They were quite shocked, not expecting such kind of a question. But Vincent seemed innocent enough, so they figured telling him their name wouldn't hurt "(Y/N) (Y/S)."

At the sound of their name, Vincent perked up "(Y/S?) Like the writer (Y/S)?" they laughed softly at his enthusiasm "Yeah..."

After that day, Vincent kept meeting (Y/N) at lunch, eventually mustering up the courage to ask if they want his number, to which they agreed, much to his joy. They texted each other nearly every day, if they didn't have any exams to study for. After some time they started meeting outside of school too, making various trips to gain inspiration, (Y/N) for their writing, Vincent for his painting.

Just as Vincent's feelings for the writer blossomed, so did (Y/N)'s feelings for the short painter. He was sweet, kind and most importantly genuine. He respected their boundaries and so did they when it came to his. There was just so much mutual understanding in their friendship, they felt like they had known him forever and they only hoped he felt the same. But they were scared. They were hurt by their closest ones in the past, who's to say that won't happen with Vincent too? They knew what he did to Gandhi, even though the little jerk deserved it.

They felt scared and insecure. But they couldn't get Vincent out of their head. Even their writing was starting to center around him. Finally, they told themselves they had to put a stop to this madness.

So (Y/N) did the only thing they could think of. They approached the only person they could trust. This person earned their trust and it took a long time for (Y/N) to open up to them, and they still weren't at a point where they would trust that person with their life, but they were very close. Close enough they trusted them with their love troubles.

After hanging out with them for the afternoon, they agreed that you only live once and that they should go for it and not worry about the outcome.

So when in the evening (Y/N) came home, they sat at their desk and started writing away all their feelings. They meant for it to be a short note, but it turned out longer than expected, their whole heart poured onto the paper. (Y/N) sighed and with trembling hands they put the note, or should we say letter, into a envelope.

The next day they came to school early so that they could drop the note into Vincent's locker. Then they hid just behind the corner to see his reaction, curiousity eating away at them.

Finally, the man of the hour arrived. He unlocked his locker, when (Y/N)'s letter fell out. They watched as Vincent oh so carefuly opened the envelope and unfolded the letter within. They saw his eyes scan the paper once, twice, slowly welling up with tears as he did.

(Y/N) quietly tiptoed behind him and after he was done and only clutched the piece of paper to his chest, they coughed. Vincent whirled around, a big, toothy smile blooming on his face. Quickly he threw himself into their embrace, not caring if anyone saw, that great was his joy. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!!!" he cried into their chest. As the two now lovers embraced each other, a letter fell gracefully to the ground.

Dear Vincent,

There is something sitting heavy on my chest and has been for a while now. It seems my heart decided to let you in, although I tried to fight it many times. Your kindness, empathy and caring personality tore the doors to my soul open, only for you to waltz right in and make yourself at home. My mind is open to you, every secret I kept locked is now yours too. I only wish you let me share your heart, just like I am ready to share mine. It is you who holds the key to my heart now, your new forever home. Do you wish to enter?

Love,

(Y/N)

#clone high #oneshot #clone high vincent van gogh #vincent van gogh #ch vincent van gogh #vincent van gogh x reader #vincent van gogh x you #fluff

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thewildsophia · 4 years

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.Hello, Teen Crisis Hotline. Clone High//Van Gogh x Reader

Depressed!Van Gogh x Reader

A/N: I use depressed a bit loosely in this one so there’s no trigger warning.

Word Count: 2357

~~~~~~~~~~

When Joan had come to you asking that you help her out with the Teen Crisis Hotline you couldn’t say no. You weren’t the closest of friends, but the two of you had an unspoken rule that if shit were to hit the fan, you’d have the others’ back. Or in this case, if one needed help with something, the other would do what they could to help.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were thrilled when she asked you to help her out. You had always wanted to do something to help those who are struggling mentally since you knew how serious and overlooked mental health was.

Joan had specifically asked that you help out with the hotline the day of JFK’s party, which you quickly agreed to. It wasn’t like you were going to that party.

But you figured she probably was going, despite her saying she wasn’t, to try and get Abe to notice her. Seriously, she could do sooo much better.

It was a little past 7pm when you had gotten the first call. It was a female talking about how difficult her school work was becoming and how stressed she was becoming because of it. You talked to her for about 45 minutes, comforting her and giving her tips on how to stay organized and study.

After that it was quiet for the next couple hours and you were doing school work during that time. Gandhi had forwarded a call to you around 10pm without a heads up and your phone began ringing. You answered it with a cheerful,

“Hello, Teen Crisis Hotline. How may I help you?”

“Hello?” The person answered. Their voice was deep and slightly raspy, yet it didn’t sound especially masculine.

“ Hello,” You greeted again, “Are you alright?” The person sighs before answering,

“For the most part, yeah.” Okay, definitely a guy.

“I-Um,” The guy continued, “Am I on…speaker phone?” What was this guy talking about?

“No, you’re not on speaker phone.” You responded. You heard the guy shift on the phone before saying,

“Good, the last person I talked to had me on speaker,” You heard his voice crack, “There were a lot of people who laughed at me because of it.” You were pissed at Gandhi. You knew he was an ass that didn’t care about the hotline, but you didn’t think that he would do something as shitty as that.

“Gandhi put you on speaker?” You asked, not even think about it.

“Yeah…” He sighed.

“God what an ass,” You said before you even realized it, “I mean-I’m sorry that he did that to you. I can assure you that you’re not on speaker and I’m the only one here.” You corrected yourself. You heard the guy chuckle before saying,

“No you’re right, he really is an ass.” You giggled to yourself before remembering what you were here to do.

“So, how are you feeling?” You asked. The guy was quiet for a while before answering you.

“I’ve…been better,” He said, “It’s just…okay, I already have depression and for a while it wasn’t too bad; I was able to kinda keep it in check. Lately, however, it hasn’t exactly been that easy.”

“Ah, I understand what you mean. Do you have any idea why it’s been getting worse?” You asked. He was quiet for a moment and you were worried that you had struck a nerve.

“I do,” He began, “Ever since I’ve gone here, I’ve been kinda…‘harassed?’ I’m not sure if that’s really the best word but recently it’s been getting worse.”

“Would you mind telling me who’s doing this?” You asked when you thought he was done.

“Um, yeah, I would. I-I don’t want to call anyone out.” He said. You were a bit upset that he didn’t tell you since you couldn’t help him if you didn’t know who was doing this to him, but at the same time you understood.

“Okay, that’s fine, I understand. Do you…have any support? Like from your family or some close friends?” You asked.

“Well, my foster parents are okay. They care about me and I know it, but I don’t think they really love me. As for friends…” He paused and sighs, “I’m not really good at making connections with people, so I don’t really have any friends; besides maybe the people I work with in class.” You were quiet, making sure he was done, before continuing.

“Alright. I do want to know, how do you deal with this harassment?” You questioned and once again he was quiet for a moment.

“I, uh, don’t really do anything? Like, if you’re asking what I say to them then I don’t say anything. But if you’re asking how I cope with everything…” He trailed off.

“How do you cope?” You asked him. You heard him shift again yet he remained quiet, “Do I need to be concerned?” You inquired after your mind had thought of the worst.

“No, no, I just…I listen to music a lot,” He started, but you didn’t say anything to try and get him to speak more.

“That and, uh, I cry…a lot. Sometimes I just turn the lights off in my room and cry. It’s…comforting in a way. I don’t know how to explain it.” He choked out, his voice cracking a few times.

“I understand what you mean,” You say, trying to comfort him, “Sometimes it just feels nice to let everything out. Personally something I do is get in the shower clothed and just…cry, letting everything out. I know it sounds odd but, for someone who cries to cope, this is one of the best pieces of advice I can give you.” You explain to him. You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone.

“I’ve actually heard that one before,” He said, and you imagined that he had a smile on his face, “I haven’t done it before though. Everytime I’m hit with one of those emotional outbreaks I’m just too tired to start a shower.”

“It really do be like that sometimes.” You say with a dopey smile.

“Yeah,” He sighed, “One of the only ways I was able to…to cling to my sanity was that no one known how miserable I truly am. But it would seem that I lost that since Gandhi put me on speaker phone.” He admitted with a sniffle at the end.

You were quiet for a moment.

“You’re lonely, aren’t you?” You quietly inquired. You heard him suck in a breath and shift again.

“How did you know? How could you tell?” He quickly questioned.

“It wasn’t too hard for me to piece it together,” You began, “You said that your foster parents do care about you, but not in a familiar way which had probably created a border between you and them. You also mentioned how it’s difficult to form connections with others, so you most likely don’t have anyone in the school to talk to. The fact that you called the hotline in the first place also suggests this. Therefore, you probably spend a lot of time by yourself, and no matter how much of an introvert someone is, being alone for that long would eventually get…lonely.” You finished, waiting for him to say something. Maybe you went too far with that analysis?

“Wow that’s…impressive that you were able to determine that so quickly.” He said.

“Was I right?” You asked curiously.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He answered. The two of you were quiet for a while before you asked him,

“Could you tell me your name?” This whole time you were trying to determine who you were talking to. Right now, you’ve managed to narrow your list down to four people: Issac Newton, Charles Darwin, Vincent Van Gogh, or Ludwig Von Beethoven.

He hesitated for a moment before answering you.

“I’m Van Gogh, Vincent Van Gogh.”

“Called it.” You said in your head, smiling.

“I see,” You say, “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you Van Gogh.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Van Gogh greets.

You thought about where to go from there until an idea pops into your head. A devious smile spreads over your face before you speak.

“You know what I think you need, Van Gogh?” You heard him hum in question, “A little bit of revenge on Gandhi. I’m 97% sure that’ll bring your spirits up.”

“What are you suggesting?” He asked, and you would hear the smirk in his voice.

“You are an artist, aren’t you? Well, it’s your lucky day because I’m the clone of F/N L/N, one of the best acrylic painters in history.” You announce before continuing, “I’m suggesting that we make a…memorial of Gandhi, commemorating his work for the hotline.” It was quiet for a few seconds before Van Gogh asked,

“What floor are you on?”

“Floor 5, room 18. I have a shit ton of acrylics and spray paint. If you’ve got gouache, bring it.” You answered quickly.

“Be there in 5 minutes.” He said before hanging up.

You laughed as you quickly got your shoes on and gathered your spray paints in a duffle bag, putting your acrylics and brushed in a plastic container. You slung the duffle bag over your shoulder when you heard a knock at your door. You answered it, being greeted by Van Gogh in all his tiny glory.

“You bring the gouache?” You asked while locking your dorm’s door.

“I’ve got gouache, oil, and acrylics.” He answered with a smirk. You smiled and couldn't help the heat that rushed to your face. He was so adorable. Yet so…despicable.

“Got any complaints about stopping by that party real quick? It’ll be easy to get in there since it’s late and they’re probably hammered by now.” You suggested, glancing over at him to gauge his reaction.

“Lead the way.” Was his answer. You did as you were told, the two of you making your way over to JFK’s house as quickly as possible. You snuck in through the back -- you had to help him over the fence -- and from there you two looked for Gandhi.

Van Gogh had spotted him first; he was talking to Joan, something about screwing herself over. Joan had quickly removed his belt and Gandhi said something but you weren’t in range to hear it before she held up his boxers -- which you assumed to be his. His pants fell and you looked away as he was quickly…“exposed” by her.

“Ah, good thing there was no one around to see that.” Was all you heard from him as he turned around and walked away.

“Oh yes,” You heard Van Gogh say next to you, “No one, indeed.” He finished while looking at you with a smirk. You smirked yourself when it clicked in your head what he was planning to do.

“I’ve got just the place.” You said while getting the two of you out of the party.

Next thing you knew, you two were in front of a wall that the majority of students walked by when going from their dorms to the school. The two of you started on your painting and it took you close to three hours to finish it, but it was very much worth it. You and Van Gogh signed it at the bottom and had even taken Van Gogh’s photo with it.

It was past 2am when everything was said and done, so the two of you made your way back over to your dorms. You walked with him to his dorm, chatting with him the whole time.

It was weird; it felt as if you had known him for years, the conversation between you two coming so naturally, yet you had only known him for a few hours.

When you had reached his dorm you asked,

“Hey, what time do you leave to go to school?”

“Around 7am, why?” He answered.

“Great, I’ll be here at 7 to walk with you,” You said while turning and making your way to your own dorm, “Goodnight, Van Gogh, see ya’ tomorrow!” You shouted back at him. Van Gogh smiled to himself, face warm.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He said. You turned and smiled at him before turning the corner and heading up stairs.

Even after you had gotten back, set everything down and changed you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was so lovable, how could anyone make fun of him? You figured people saw him as an easy target since he’s usually quiet and passive.

But you’d make sure he’s treated better. That was your final thought before drifting to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~

Staying true to your word, you made sure you had gotten up early -- only getting like 4 hours of sleep -- to walk Van Gogh to school. When you had made it to his dorm he was already waiting for you, and it was only 6:50am.

The two of you made your way to the school, talking the whole way. Your conversation quieted down when you turned the corner that had the painting on it.

There was a crowd of students laughing and taking pictures. Looking through the sea of students you saw Gandhi, slack-jawed and in awe. You quickly pointed him out to Van Gogh and the laugh that left his lips was a nerdy, yet adorable and just perfect to you.

The two of you continued to walk by and people cheered for you both.

“See, look: they like you.” You say while nudging his shoulder. His face blossoms in this bright pinkish-peach color that you have never seen before and the same chuckle leaves his lips again. Your stomach did flips and your face felt hot.

“Thanks, Van Gogh, Y/N!” You heard Joan yell from somewhere, but you were too focused on Van Gogh to care. It was his voice that brought you out of your dazed state.

“Thank you, Y/N, for helping me and all.” He said while rubbing the back of his neck. You cheeks were sore, but that didn’t stop you from smiling one last time.

“No problem, Van Gogh.”

#clonehigh #clone high #clone high van gogh #clone high vincent van gogh #clone high x reader #vincent van gogh #van gogh x reader #vincent van gogh x reader #thewildsophia writes

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virtueangel · 3 years

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Hc's for Vinny pls? ówò Im intp(17,she/her), but a bit more emotional/energetic. Im always mindful of other people tho, so if they dont vibe with my silliness, i immediately tone it down.Im mute w/ new ppl, tho. Im very sensitive and keep the majority of it bottled up. I love telling jokes and making others happy.Also anything nerdy is what im all about. Stuff like video games, the arts, science, history.. but art is my favorite. Usually i draw cartoons, but i do plenty of realistic stuff aswell

Van Gogh With an Introverted Reader

At first, Van Gogh has trouble making a connection with this reader. He’s not very good at conversation either, so it’s hard to kind of “break through the ice” with her. He tries to make little gestures to get her attention, like waving hello when they pass each other in the hallways and asking her for an eraser in class (even though he has his own). He’s eager to talk to her, but he’s also pretty anxious so settles for no more than a minute or two of conversation a day. But, as the weeks go on, he works up the nerve to ask her questions that aren’t necessarily about school.

Van Gogh asks her about some of her drawings, which makes her nervous. Van Gogh notices this, and comforts her by showing her some of his own drawings to let her know that he isn’t going to judge her. They start talking about art and their varying drawing styles a little bit, but even now, the conversations don’t last very long because neither of them really know how to keep them going.

One day, Van Gogh makes a bold move and decides to ask her out. He does it in sort of a discreet way, by drawing a little cartoon of them on his paper in class. It’s pretty cheesy, but she’s still flattered and says yes. It’s kind of awkward at first, but she pushes through it quickly by trying to be silly with Van Gogh. She tires to make him feel more comfortable, and that makes her feel more comfortable as well. Van Gogh really admires her sense of humour, and this even gets him to be a little sillier himself. They play off of each others’ jokes a lot. They’re really the only two people who think their jokes are funny, but it’s okay because it’s not like a lot of people are hearing them anyway.

Van Gogh is pretty glad once he gets to know her because she can carry the conversations really well. She likes to ramble on about her interests, and she gets really passionate about whatever she’s talking about. Van Gogh is really good at just listening, and it works out well in this case because he actually cares about what she’s saying. He asks questions occasionally, but it’s really just because he’s trying to prompt her to keep talking. He’d prefer to just listen when she’s talking about video games, but he can actually contribute to the conversation when it’s about art. They geek out about art a lot, everything from sharing their favourite paintings to having competitions to see who knows more obscure details about a certain artist.

They go to a lot of museums together. Museums of any kind, not necessarily just art galleries -- exploratoriums, historical exhibits, aquariums, etc. Van Gogh especially likes museums because they’re quiet, but there’s also a lot to do. Both of them are fascinated by everything in the exhibits, and they spend hours at the museums when they go.

This reader is a really good match for Van Gogh. She draws out sides of him that he usually keeps hidden, like his sense of humour. Van Gogh is also a good match for this reader, because he encourages her to talk about her feelings instead of keeping everything hidden. He’s a really good listener and comforter. They both become more open people when they’re with each other. They’re also really grateful to be with someone who has similar interests and who will listen to the other talk even if they don’t know much about the topic.

#clone high #clone high hc #clone high van gogh #clone high x reader #request #ask me!#answer #writing

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holyshxtangel · 3 years

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I’m literally too embarrassed to even OPEN my Wattpad and Tumblr account around my sister cause she’ll only see my library filled with Clone High X Readers SDJHKASJKDK

#yes i still use wattpad #cringey i know #seriously i am TOO obsessed with this show #pls someone take my laptop away #i literally cannot stop readig ch x readers #pls help #clone high #clone high jfk #clone high van gogh #jfk clone high #van gogh clone high #angel talks #xo

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jfks-phat-cheeks · 2 years

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Van Gogh, JFK and Joan w/ a ftm reader please?

Why yes ofc! apologies if this is a little short, I'm getting back into this writing format lmao (a post for my fellow transmascs out there)

Van Gogh With A FtM Reader

They would be very supportive of you, whether you told him at the beginning of your relationship or even later in. There would be a lot of mutual understanding and appreciation of each other (I stand by my firm beliefs in genderfluid van gogh <3)

I definitely think that they would do all they could to make you as comfortable as possible, a lot of encouragement and support. Whatever you need he would be there for.

If you go the through of going on hormones he would be right there by your side! if its shots and you don't feel comfortable doing them yourself, they will try and help you. And if you end up doing any surgeries, he will be by your side the whole-time post-op. "Oh no don't do that I'll grab it for you!" is something you would be hearing a lot

Dude is so protective of your honor and image, would probably bite someone's fingers off if they said anything wrong about you or misgendered you ngl.

Jfk With A FtM Reader

Oh, this poor man, he would try his hardest, but you would have to explain it to him a couple of times before he actually gets it. Once he does, he would need your guidance as you how to be there for you and help.

Would definitely be like "uh the boy ones :D?" and then look to you to see if he got it right when asked his pronouns. Which is adorable in hindsight but makes you shake your head in the moment.

He lends you his old clothes. All the time. So many clothes. This is good if you like his style but if not good luck, you can use some of it to sleep in though so it's a win win no matter what Ig. Does just throw hands to defend you. It's just what he does, it's almost like a love language for him. Oh, someone said something bad about my boyfriend? I am going to break their jaw :). You just got to expect it. Eventually people won't even try to say nasty shit because they know that they'll be hunted down for it.

Joan With A FtM Reader

Joan would be your number 1 supporter no matter what. They would be by your side from the very beginning and is there for whatever you need. Want to go shopping? She might not like too, but for you she'll do it. Need help changing your name and pronouns in the system? She will be fighting right by your side.

They love you very much and I feel like if you have top surgery, she will trace your scars when they are healed. It would just become a habit for her when you two are laying down together.

On days where you are feeling particularly dysphoric, she would sit you down on the couch and you would watch your favorite movies and eat your favorite snacks.

Will beat the shit out of people for you like Jfk, she would hold no remorse. The only difference here is that she would wait for you to tell her it's okay to do so.

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jfks-phat-cheeks · 1 year

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may I interest you all in Halloween fics? send in some reqs <3 🎃 👻

#clone high #jfk clone high #jfk #clone high van gogh #clone high jfk #clone van gogh #jfk ch #clone high joan of arc #clone high vincent van gogh #clone joan of arc #abe clone high #clone gandhi #clone high x reader

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jfks-phat-cheeks · 3 years

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Hello!!

I’d like to request some Van Gogh x tall reader headcanons? Particularly how like,, cuddling / affection would go?

Mans needs some love,,,,

I hope you have a good day / night!

As a local tall bitch I completely understand this

Van Gogh With A Tall Reader

I don’t see Van Gogh as someone who cares much about how a person looks, wether they are shorter or taller than him. As long as they weren’t a horrible person he wouldn’t mind them.

That being said I do think he has a preference for taller people (shut up it may be a personal bias)

Cuddling with him is great, he loves the feeling of you curling around him. The warmth of your body on his comforts him especially on the nights where he has trouble falling asleep.

Although there are times where he feels guilt about having you be the big spoon, or when he just wants to hold you.

During those times you tend to rest your head in his lap while he gently strokes your face or holds your hands. Sometimes in bed he will draw shapes in your back with his fingers.

If you guys are just lounging on the couch, one of you will have a leg resting over the other. It just seems like a habit at this point.

#clone high #clone high headcannons #clone high headcanons #clone high x reader #clone high vincent van gogh #clone high van gogh #ch Van Gogh #van gogh headcanons #clone van gogh x reader #van gogh headcannons #van gogh x reader #clone van gogh

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jfks-phat-cheeks · 3 years

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I just wanna hold hands and smoke cigarettes on the roof with Vincent 🥺 hnnnng I’m so soft for him 💖💖💖💖

Hhhhhhhhh y e s

There was something in the air that night. Maybe it was the cigarette smoke, who knows. Neither of you certainly don’t. You don’t remember why you were over there, it seemed so long ago when it really could have only been at least an hour.

It was quiet between the both of you, but it was a comfortable silence. A silence that you both welcomes with open arms and interlocked hands.

So you sat there. The night crickets singing their songs, the moonlight illuminating the surrounding area. Vince makes a remark, youre not sure what it was but it made you both laugh. His smile was contagious.

At some point in the night, the wind picked up and it started to get chilly. He had given you one of his jackets and draped it around your shoulders to keep you warm. The cigarettes smoke filled both of your senses, you could faintly tell that van goghs jacket smells like him.

At some point you both fell asleep, leaning on each other for comfort. The sun slowly rises and morning dew started to form. Entangled hands and soft breaths lay waiting to be woken.

#clone high #clone high x reader #clone high headcannons #clone high headcanons #clone van gogh #clone high van gogh #clone van gogh x reader #van gogh headcanons #van gogh headcannons #van gogh x reader #van gogh clone high

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jfks-phat-cheeks · 4 years

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Hey guys! I’m going to start going some general hc like this just to fill in some space. (These are super easy to do that’s why skfhahdkfj)

What Their Nicknames Are For You

Jfk

Jfk will absolutely call you typical Americanized nicknames. Examples of this include babe, sweetheart and hon. He’s a simple man and likes to keep the nicknames not super crazy. (Although he does have his moments that cause you to double take. Like the time he called you “the apple pie of my eye”)

Cleo

Cleo can be kinda picky with what she calls you. Normally it will be your name/a variation of your name. But, another nickname she has for you every now and again is darling. She just thinks it is sweet.

Joan

Joans nicknames are very original. Normally it will be some sort of play off your name, she also calls you her universe. It’s kinda cheesy, she’s aware. But it is true.

Abe

Good god. He gives you either a. No nickname and only your name or b. The most sickly sweet nicknames you have ever heard. There is no in between. Some examples are cutie pie, sweetie pie, babesy.

Gandhi

Lmao have fun with this one. Gandhi calls you such weird ass nicknames or very sexy nicknames. Some of the more normal ones are tiger, hot-stuff, and sugar-lips. Although if you both are having a sweeter moment he will call you hun.

Van Gogh

Aww okay van would absolutely ask you what nicknames you would want to be called before giving you any. But if you don’t have a specific nickname he probably would just call you by your name or my moon/sun/star. He just doesn’t want to offend or hurt you.

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thewildsophia · 4 years

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.Art Project. Clone High//Van Gogh x Reader

Van Gogh x Reader

Word Count: 2564

~~~~~~~~~~

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get the thought of the tiny Dutch artist out of your head. You weren’t even sure what about him it was that caught your attention. Perhaps it was his orange hair that almost looks red in the right lighting, or maybe his pale skin that mirrored the white bandages that you know he changes everyday (you also loved how his face would blossom with this gorgeous shade of orange-pink when he was complimented), or maybe it was just his hands. Yeah that was it. His hands, petite and delicate, that could paint such beautiful, exquisite paintings that told of many different things.

God you felt like such a creep.

But you couldn’t help it. You were absolutely infatuated, -- no, that’s not quite right -- obsessed with him.

And the worst part about it all was that the two of you have barely had any real interactions with each other. The last time the two of you had really talked was when you were assigned an art project with him. It was a collaborative project where you two were given a piece of art and two canvases and you would paint half the artwork on each canvas using styles and colors that were different, but still complimented the other half.

You two had received the artwork The Kiss by Gustav Klimt, with you painting the man and Van Gogh painting the woman. You had used cooler colors -- blues, greens, grays and purples -- while Van Gogh used warmer ones -- reds, yellows, oranges and whites. You had focused most of the detail on the man, leaving the background somewhat barren with Van Gogh doing the opposite, focusing on the background and less on the woman.

It had actually turned out really well and the two of you had received a perfect grade, but what you liked the most about the whole thing was how much time you got to spend with him.

You worked with him for a whole week and when the deadline was coming up he invited you to his dorm to finish it. You actually found it quite funny how much his room looked like The Bedroom, but you weren’t surprised.

If you really thought about it, it was probably the second day when you started to become fascinated by him. The sketches had been completed and you two had just started painting. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t focus on your piece, intrigued by his painting. His strokes were quick, decisive, like he knew exactly what he wanted. It was difficult not to stare as he painted and you had barely gotten any work done that day. And he quickly picked up on your distracted state.

“Is something the matter?” God that voice sounded just perfect to you. It was deep, but not too deep, and somewhat raspy, like he had a slight cold. You could listen to that voice for hours.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” You remember him asking.

“Yeah.” You had answered, “I’ve just never seen you paint before. It’s beautiful.” After those words had left your mouth, that beautiful peach color blessed his pale skin and he looked away with a bashful smile.

“I-Thank you.” He had stuttered and it was probably the cutest thing you had ever heard. You wanted to get him to do that more often. After that the two of you continued to work on your project with the occasional chatter between you.

When the two of you had finished, you didn’t really talk to the other. You’d wave to each other in the hallways while transitioning classes or offer a quiet “Hey” when entering Painting II. What you did find a bit strange is that if you show up first, he’ll sit at the same table as you and vice-versa, and neither of you seemed to mind it.

Actually, it kind of worked to your advantage.

You really couldn’t help yourself and often found yourself drawing Van Gogh in your sketchbook, ranging from basic sketches to full on ink pieces (of course you’d ink them when you got back to your dorm). It’s actually gotten so bad lately that you now have completed paintings of him, whether it be acrylic, watercolor, oil, gouache, you name it and you probably have it.

You were actually about half way through painting another piece of him, although you didn’t like this one as much as some of the others since he looked a bit too feminine. While painting, you heard a knock at your dorm’s door. You quickly looked at the clock hanging on the wall opposite of a window.

“It’s almost 10pm, why the hell is someone coming up here?” You thought before getting up and looking out the peephole in your door only to be greeted with nothing. You grumbled to yourself while opening the door just to make sure no one left something for you.

Upon opening the door, you’re greeted with none other than the clone of Vincent Van Gogh himself, canvas and set of acrylics pinned at his side. You felt yourself straighten as you greeted him.

“Oh-Hey. It’s almost 10, are you alright? You need something?” You asked watching him shift his stance before answering,

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for coming by so late, I just needed a bit of help with the portrait project and you’re the only person I really felt comfortable coming to.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his. You felt your heart stutter at hearing that.

“It’s alright, what did you need help with specifically?” You asked leaning onto the door frame.

“I’m having trouble with making a background that works with the subject.” He said. Weird. Backgrounds are usually his speciality. “Um, may I come in?” He asked. Your eyes widen slightly with realization of you forgetting to let him hit you.

“Of course! Sorry.” You apologized sheepishly, moving out of the way to let him in.

“It’s fine.” He said. You closed the door before quickly jogging over to your desk, grabbing the still wet painting and placing it against the wall opposite the door, facing towards said wall. You cleared a spot on your desk for him to place his things.

“Alright, let’s see what you got so far.” You said looking over his painting.

You talked to him for about 15 minutes about how he could improve what he currently had before you got up to grab you painting to show him what you had done.

“That’s Frida Kahlo, right? If I remember correctly she’s from Mexican descent, so I would use brighter colors like greens, pinks and yellows.” You said while rustling with the huge stack of paintings you had looking for it. “I had gotten Aaron Douglas, so I stuck with more desaturated colors and focused less on details and more on the silhouettes of the subjects.” Once grabbing the painting you returned to Van Gogh, placing the painting onto the desk next to his.

Only…That wasn’t the right painting.

Nope, instead it was one of Van Gogh, specifically the one of him you had finished a few weeks ago of him looking at himself in a full-body mirror while painting a self portrait. You grabbed the painting, pressing it against your chest the moment you realized it was the wrong one. You stared at him a moment before turning around and scrounging around in the pile again for the right painting.

“Y/N-” Van Gogh started, but you weren’t gonna let him finish.

“Just! Give me a second.” You said, searching a bit faster. God seemed to be against you that night because when you started to look for it faster the whole stack fell and, of course, with it came the majority of paintings you had made of him. And…the painting of Douglas.

You stood there a moment, feeling the sweat gather at your forehead and back of your neck. You grabbed the painting of Douglas before stacking all the other ones up. You turned back around, slowly walking back over to the desk and putting the right painting next to his.

“So, um, like I was saying earlier…” But your voice died in your throat when you heard him speak.

“Y/N.” He said firmly. You felt yourself swallow thickly before looking over at him. “Come with me.”

And you did. You really didn’t feel like arguing with him after what had just happened. He led you to his dorm room on the 3rd floor, unlocking it and gesturing for you to step in. You did before he closed the door and walked over to the corner of his room. He pulled out a bundle of canvas, separating them from each other.

“You know, for the longest time I felt like such a creep doing this so often, but after seeing what you’ve been doing, I feel a lot less like one.” He said while revealing the paintings to you.

They were of you. They were all of you.

You felt your heart leap out of your chest as your eyes laid on the paintings. They were all different from the last, varying in size, color, style, much like your own.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since we were assigned that project together, ever since…you said that about my painting.” He started, “At first you were just a passing thought, but as time went on, you started to plague my mind more and more often to the point where I couldn’t get you off my mind.” He finished, that stunning peach color returning to his cheeks.

You walked over to where he had the paintings spread out over his bed, running your fingers over the texture in the dried paint.

“Oh, Van Gogh, these are…” You started, still stunned about everything.

“Not my best work, I know.” He said scratching the back of his neck, “It was a bit difficult painting you without having you here to reference.” He admitted.

“No, Van Gogh, these are beautiful.” You said stroking your cheek, “And not just because they’re of me.” You added with a laugh, to which Van Gogh also let out a chuckle.

The room then when quiet, neither of you having the courage to speak up until you decided the silence had lasted enough.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” You started, “But you’ve captured my interest, and ever since I got to watch you paint that day I also haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” You paused, breathing in deeply. Well, it’s now or never you suppose.

“Everytime I think of you, I can physically feel my chest tighten and I feel almost like I’m going to be sick, but in a good way.” You tried to explain, not meeting his light blue eyes once. “I’m not sure if this is what love is supposed to feel like, since I’ve never really been in love before, but…I know that I do like you. Like…really like you and…God, I don’t know what I’m saying; I’ve probably said too much.” You finish with a nervous chuckle.

“No,” You heard him say, “You said just enough.” He grabbed your hand, making you look down at him.

“I’ve…I’ve never really been in love before either, but…I do know that I really enjoy being with you, even if we’re not talking to each other. Just being around you makes me happy. Hell, the whole point of me seeing you this late was just to see you.” Van Gogh looked up at you briefly before looking down at the ground. “Ah, I’m rambling. Look, my point is that I don’t know what it’s like to love someone, but I do know what it’s like to really like someone, and…I really like you.” He finishes, looking back up at you only to notice the glassiness of tears that clouded you e/c eyes.

“Oh, no, wait don’t start crying.” You heard him say, but you couldn’t stop the flow of tears that warmed your cheeks every so slightly. You collapsed onto your knees, embracing Van Gogh, soon feeling his arms wrap around you and the wetness of tears on the back of your shirt. You hugged him harder when you heard a sob rip from his chest, trying your best not to start sobbing yourself. After all, you didn’t look the most elegant when you cried.

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours before finally pulling away from the other. You looked him in the eyes, rubbing away some of the stray tears that still remained on his cheeks. He returned the favor.

“All this time,” he started, “I was so scared to tell you how I felt about you. Hell, I was scared to talk to you at all. I was so worried that I would mess things up between us that I decided to just stay silent.” He paused, sighing. “It’s…difficult for me to connect with people so…I don’t have many good friends. I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

“I was scared too,” You admitted, “In all honesty, I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to talk to me after we finished the project. I like being around you, so I was okay with just sitting near you in art.” You ran your hand through his orange hair, being mindful of his bandages.

“I guess we're both kinda creeps.” You say after a minute. He smiles with a chuckle.

“Yeah.” He whispers, “I guess we are.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Extended Ending:

You let go of Van Gogh, allowing him to clear his bed and put the paintings away. He straightened his bed out, looking over at his own clock that read quarter til midnight. He turned to you, peach dusting his pale cheeks.

“Would you, um…” He stuttered, “Would you like to spend the night? I don’t mean like, you know, but just…sleep. It’s late, we have class in the morning and it’s a bit of a walk to your dorm.” He finished, gesturing to his bed. You blushed before smiling.

“I’d love to.” You answered. He smiled before opening the covers, patting the open space.

“Great! I-Um, I’ll get the lights.” He said, walking past you. You took your shoes off before climbing into his bed, moving all the way over to one side. He turned the light off, the room only being visible because of the moonlight coming through the curtains. You felt the bed shift, assuming Van Gogh had gotten in the bed with you.

For a while, you both laid there stiffly, painfully aware of the other’s presence. You felt his eyes on you for a while before he spoke.

“Um…would it be alright if I…” He said, scooting closer to you. You did the same, until the two of you met in the center. You turned your body towards his and he did the same. The two of you simply stared at the other for a moment before he wrapped his arms around your neck. You, in turn, wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin upon his head. He pressed his face into your collar and you shuttered as you felt his breath on your neck.

“This,” he started, “This is…” Leaving you to finish his sentence.

“Nice.”

#clonehigh #clone high #clone high van gogh #vincent van gogh #clone high vincent van gogh #van gogh x reader #clone high x reader #vincent van gogh x reader #clone high van gogh x reader #thewildsophia writes

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