#feeling like an artist while painting is the best feeling and god i missed it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

espinosaurusrexex · 7 months

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Happy Little Accidents

Veteran!BuckyBarnes x Female!ArtTeacher!Reader

summary: In a world after the war, Bucky tries to get pieces of his old self back by joining an art class. He meets you and instantly falls head over heels. Now he just has to work up the courage to ask you out.

a/n: wrote most of this on my lunch break after finally feeling the creativity spark again. I hope you all get a cozy fall feeling.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: adapting to life after war, frustration, a little angst, love-dazed Bucky, just so much fluff and wholesomeness 💕

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

↑ the face of a man too whipped to listen - this is the Bucky vibe today

Steve Rogers was an artist. A lot of people knew about it. Hell, the Smithsonian even had a gallery full of sketches from a notebook of Steve’s he had lost back in ‘45. But Steve never needed people to recognize his work. Just like he never needed all the fame that came with his shield or all the honors he got for doing what he thought normal human decency implied - stopping bullies.

But what not many people knew was that Steve loved his art so much, he even held little sketch workshops in the camps on the western front. He drew each member of the howling commandos with impeccable accuracy. He loved drawing portraits and he loved to help.

Which was why, sooner or later, Bucky had been talked into trying his first sketches back in the day as well. Back when he was still left-handed, back when he found joy in little things such as drawing with his best friend. Back when he was not who he was now.

Yeah, he was bitter about it...

Bucky wasn’t too shabby of an artist per se. He was rather quick with his sketches always able to find the right spot for his next line and even though they weren’t perfect, one could always see what his pictures were meant to present.

Yes, they were crooked and not nearly as good as Steve’s but he had fun with it. Sketching had been an escape for his soul while bombs were exploding only miles away from his camp. It had reminded him of his best friend when they were apart, and most importantly, it taught him patience.

God, so much patience.

Bucky had never been good with it. Always fast, always right away. But the amount of times Steve made him erase carefully constructed lines and shapes had him feel scolded like a kid.

Later, he was grateful for it.

Now? He hated just touching a pencil. Every time he was reminded of his recovery, of months of frustration and anger, of grief and sadness. All because he’d lost his arm, and with it, all that had brought him joy in life.

When he had to learn to write with his right hand, he screamed at the papers before him, the crooked and shaky lines mocking him with vigor.

You’ll never be the same, they said, You’ll never have true joy back.

He felt like a child. Unable to do the most mundane of tasks, whilst fully aware of what had to be done to get it right.

But he missed it. The way drawing would clear his mind and the ease he felt when thinking of nothing but the next step in the process.

So after a particularly frustrating session with his therapist, Bucky had walked through a gallery on his way home. Beautiful pieces, each more impressive than the next hung on bright white walls until he reached a small corner with sketches and photographs. They weren’t less good than the rest, but other than the huge paintings, they seemed approachable - and they reminded him of times far gone.

“Hello, would you be interested in signing up for a sketching class?” An angelic voice had asked after holding a leaflet into his line of sight. And when he followed the hand up to your face, his breath hitched in his throat.

“I- I don’t think I’d be any good…” he had said with a pitiful smile as his left arm raised next to his head, the sleek silver of his hand shining in the showroom light.

“Oh don’t be silly. Everyone can be an artist.”

And that was all it took.

Now he was here. Sitting in a room with about eight other people, listening to you talk. Though Bucky didn’t pay much attention to your words. He was distracted by the way your lips curved when you spoke, and how your hands looked in the light when you flailed them in the air. He wanted to draw you, only you. But he knew he could never do you justice. And that frustrated him a little.

His first task was easy. A series of connected squiggles and shapes. The second was harder - finding and highlighting familiar motives in his work. But when he tried to connect his shapes, his hand began to tremble and the line on his paper got dented, he huffed in surrender.

A look to the front to you talking with another woman and he was getting off his chair.

This was useless. He should have never come here.

But when he moved to gather his things, your voice stopped him once again.

“Oh that’s interesting,” you said with a tilted head, your eyes following the little dent in his drawing.

“Yeah, I messed it up.” He shook his head and added a careful, much more quiet ‘I always do”.

“You see, it’s only a mistake if you make it one.” You turned to him and smiled and his heart began racing now that all your attention was on him. Bucky looked around to see if anyone noticed, but the other participants were all focused on their work. “I’m not going to tell you that this line isn’t supposed to be the way it is. You alone can decide that.”

You stepped closer as he eyed his paper again. “So, Bucky,” holy crap you remembered his name. And it sounded so good coming from your lips. “Are you gonna make it a mistake or not?”

❁ ❁ ❁

That was a month ago. And Bucky had come to your class every Sunday night since then. But now his crush had only intensified.

Every time you stepped behind him to watch him work, his hand began to sweat. Every time you gave him a suggestion, his eyes were so drawn to your lips, he barely heard what you were saying. Just yesterday this had caused him to get into a particularly awkward situation. He hadn’t listened, of course - those stupid mesmerizing lips of yours were at fault for it. And when Bucky finally came back from his daydream of imagining what they would feel like on his lips, he knocked over a jar of water as he noticed you had moved next to him. And to make matters even worse, you had caught him talking to himself as he cleaned up the mess.

Bucky was beyond embarrassed. He wasn’t normally that clumsy, all his moves were calculated. No limb out of control, but when you were around, he seemed to have lost that trait of his - which was actually kind of nice...

He was in deep. And he didn’t know how to handle it.

He was contemplating never going back to your class. He would probably end up ruining somebody’s work and - besides - it wasn’t like he could ever work up the courage to ask you out. It was just all too scary.

“Bucky, is that you?” Bucky froze as he studied the coffee menu above the barista. He was going to order black anyway. But the voice that called out his name almost made him want to pretend he was still studying the sign.

“Bucky.” Your voice came closer and when you were standing next to him, he finally looked at you. And there you were, with a bright smile and a scarf shielding you from the cool fall breeze outside.

“Oh, hey.” He paused, treading, not knowing what to do with his hands or pretty much any part of his body. At least, in your workshop, he had something to do. “...hey.”

“It’s nice to see you, how’s your homework going?” You rubbed your hands together to warm them and at the sight of your delicate fingers, he felt his cheeks heating up when he imagined holding them.

“It’s... well, it’s going...” He sighed and watched his feet as they shuffled on the tiled floor. “It’s not going well if I’m being honest.” And with a shy smile, he rubbed the back of his neck, watching as you nodded in understanding.

“I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes it really helps to just get started without thinking about it too much.”

He chuckled. That was exactly his problem. Because every time he wanted to start, he wondered what you would think about it. And then his thoughts drifted to you entirely and how your neck would bend when you watched him draw over his shoulder, or how your fingers swayed over his artwork to point out the parts you were talking about. God, he loved when you did that.

“-only if you want, of course.” Your nose crinkled when Bucky’s mind brought him back to the coffee shop again. You were staring at him expectantly, your smile growing nervous with every second he took to register that you had just asked him a question.

Bucky had no idea what you had just said. He had been too lost in his daydream yet again and now he made you look stupid in the middle of this coffee shop. There wasn’t much time to decide what his response would be, but under no circumstance did he want to admit just how scattered he was around you. So without thinking, he just nodded with a tight-lipped smile and willed his knees to stay strong when your eyes brightened.

“Awesome! When are you free?” Free? Did you just ask him out and he hadn’t even paid attention?

“Uh, Sunday?” Bucky stammered as his heart began to pound in his chest. This has got to be a prank.

You laughed, and Bucky got weak in the knees. “Sunday is workshop, silly.”

Stupid, stupid, Bucky. “Right, uh... Friday then.” The rapid beat in his chest took his breath away.

“Okay, great. Here give me your phone so I can give you my number.”

“You’re–“ Bucky choked as his hands scrambled to fish his phone out of his pocket. “Yes, yeah sure, cool.” Cool? Oh god.

You took it from him, entered your contact with a little paintbrush emoji, called yourself, and handed it back to his sweaty hand.

“I’ll text you my address.” You stepped forward to pay and retrieve your coffee, gifting the barista a smile that made him blush - apparently, you were a regular because Bucky did not remember you ordering - but then again - he didn’t really pay attention apparently. “Oh, and bring your art supplies!”

And then you were out the door, letting crisp air into the cozy coffee shop, and Bucky standing dazed and confused as to what had just happened.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his phone for the fifth time now, making sure he was in front of the right door before ringing the bell. He was nervous, to say the least. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was on a date, not to mention the last time he felt this nervous about being on one. He was a strong believer in facts but you asking him out had to be a sign from the universe. One he would only get once and he could not screw it up.

His hands smoothed over his black button-up one last time before adjusting his leather jacket again. Then he rang the bell and not even a minute later, you greeted him with a warm smile and urged him to give you his jacket to hang up.

“I just made tea, do you want some?” Bucky followed you to the kitchen where the faint but homey scent of pumpkin spice filled the air. He watches as you scrambled to find your oven its and then retrieve something delicious smelling from the oven. “Cookies?”

“I’m good with tea for now.” He chuckled in awe at how nice your home felt. Once he could tear his eyes away from you, he peered over the kitchen island into your living room, where many different artworks and photographs were displayed on the walls. Every pillow on your sofa had a different color and the blankets sprawled on it and the chair were too inviting for him not to picture the both of you cuddled up beneath them.

“Alright then, suit yourself. But just know these are my specialty.” You snatched one from the tray before almost dropping it again. “Ouch, hot.”

Bucky felt drawn to the room. With all its warm light and fall-scented candles, hints of read books and discarded crocheting, with a crackling fireplace and soft carpeting. He also felt awfully intimate at the glimpse he got into your life by being here, but he had already declared this place his favorite in his mind.

“Are you ready?” Bucky turned to you and watched as you padded your hands on your jeans, leaving faint flour prints on the dark denim.

“Ready for what?” He smiled again, he seemed to be unable to stop around you. But he was just so happy to be here, to be close to you, and to finally spend more time with you.

You chuckled and set two cups of tea on the table. “For your sketches. That’s the whole reason you came here for, remember?”

You settled on the ground and padded the sofa for Bucky. But he could just stand there and stare at you while trying to ignore the lump that began to build in his throat. He clenched the bag with his art supplies in his hand and watched as the soft material wrinkled in his grasp.

Of, course. He took a breath. How could he have been so naive? Then stepped towards the sofa. The whole thing had been a mistake. And finally sat down with a heavy smile.

The sadness was filling him so fast, it threatened to spill right out of him, but Bucky wouldn’t let this little big dent in the road be shown in front of you. Instead, he focused on your hands when they pulled his sketch pad from his bag. And your eager smile when you flipped through his failed attempts on the paper.

The whole atmosphere was wearing a thin layer of sorrow all of a sudden, and Bucky felt his heartache when you leaned over to him to point out the parts you liked the most. Your perfume seemed just that much sweeter as if it were mocking him all of a sudden.

He didn’t listen. He just watched you with the same longing he’s had ever since he met you. Back to square one. Back to the distance he had with you before he foolishly thought you had asked him out. Except now he’d lost all the confidence left in him to take the next step.

Bucky let the evening wash over him. Trying to concentrate on your tips and examples, tasting the tea you had offered to him with the sweetest smile. And before he knew it, he was standing in front of your apartment building again - with a box of those pumpkin cookies in hand and a heart that felt heavier than the bricks he was staring at.

He sighed and began his walk back home.

❁ ❁ ❁

On Sunday he decided that he wouldn’t give up. Bucky didn't know what changed his mind. He just knew that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and him on that incredibly comfortable sofa of yours and the scent of your cedar and cinnamon candle which seemed to linger on his skin for days after his visit. He wanted to play the sketching games he had half-heartedly endured last time and he wanted to become a better artist.

Bucky had left your cookie box at home as an excuse to meet up with you again. And even though he was sweating ferociously when he approached you after class, you had agreed to meet with him again.

He’d left the gallery with a bright smile that evening. Excited for the next time he’d see you again and eager with daydreams on the subway home.

You and Bucky met up every week. Every time, spending a little longer not just drawing and it filled his heart with warmth and happiness. You shared laughter, and, in Bucky’s eyes, a growing connection with every passing meeting.

He learned about your dreams and aspirations and told you about his past, his interests, and his most treasured fantasies.

As weeks turned into months, Bucky found himself drawn to you in more ways than the warmth radiating from your smile he’d noticed the first day he met you, or your talent of calmly helping him in every way possible. He admired your passion for art, your kindness, and your enchanting presence. The fear and the shyness that had gripped him at first, slowly faded away - replaced by a sense of comfort when he was with you.

And soon he realized that there was nothing he didn’t love about you. This was how he got the courage to, on one calm evening spent on your sofa, between the colorful pillows he had been thinking about falling asleep on for weeks, place his hand in yours and intertwine your fingers with his.

“I got something for you,” he whispered between dialogues of the Halloween movie playing on TV, watching as your eyes aimed up at him with curiosity.

With reluctance, he peeled himself out of the warm blanket you shared and trudged to the sketchbook hidden in his bag. The initial idea had been dipped in silly confidence. But it was too late to back out now. He’d already told you about it.

So despite his nervous heartbeat, Bucky came back to the sofa and handed you the book.

“Open it,” he nudged when you carefully inspected the black leather binding, unaware of the confession hidden beneath.

And when you did, he felt he could read every expression on your face like a poem.

The book was filled with sketches of you. The first pages were scattered in hasty pencil drawings, misplaced lines, and unintentional dents. Then followed the section in which he had tried to pay attention to detail. The curve of your nose or the arch of your fingers when they pointed at his artwork. He could see them now, hovering over the sketches himself, and when you turned to the last page of the section, he could see the striking resemblance between them. And so did you. On the next turn, you revealed the latest portraits he’d added to the book - finally confident enough to attempt doing what he saw you as justice, to finally look past his mistakes - or happy little accidents as you called them - and just try it.

Bucky had discovered that your weekly sketch sessions had done him good. And that you had secretly given him back what he had mourned after for so long.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you from the moment we met.” He whispered still, too afraid to break the moment you’d just created. “Thought it was time for me to tell you.”

Your eyes were glassy when you tore them from the pages in your hand, a shaky laugh escaping your lips when Bucky beamed down at you. “You did all of this for me-”

“Because of you,” he corrected and wiped a lonely tear from your cheek. “I never thought I could get the joy of drawing back until you showed me how.”

Bucky leaned in closer until your noses touched. “How to be less critical of myself.” He closed his eyes and let his hand linger on your skin. “And how to welcome a mistake by making it an accident-”

And before he could finish that sentence, he felt your lips press to his and your warm hands wrap around his neck to pull him into your body. Bucky shivered in excitement, letting his hands trail down your back and falling into the soft cushions of your sofa while he pressed you to his chest protectively.

He sighed into the kiss, feeling his heart burn with excitement.

Fascinating, how fast a mistake can turn into a happy little accident.

I love you Bob Ross <3

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captain039 · 7 months

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PART 3 Intertwined with a mortal

Ascended Vampire Duke!Astarion x human!reader

Bridgerton x Astarion 👍🏻

Warnings: Olden times, swearing, age gap, tension, slow burn, vampire Mates, vampire things, angst, sexual, harassment, bigger reader, fat shaming, 18+, angst, Astarions trauma, anxiety, depression, learning to touch and love, big dislike for children lmao, AOB, artist reader, manipulation

Previous part <-

Gods you may be going insane, your dreams were so sinful it would make the faithful cry. You danced with him twice and now he’s in your dreams caressing your body and sending you waves of pleasure you didn’t know was possible. Your books didn’t help either, you always snuck a lewd book in your bag from the library when your mother would go, now you were reading with the duke in mind and yourself as the main character. You thought a nice day of painting would send your thoughts away till you began sketching his face in your book. You’d slammed the thing shut and threw it with wide eyes and a pounding heart, gods what was wrong with you.

The third party of the season had arrived you wore a light blush coloured dress, a fan to match in your hand, it was a warm night. You found Jen easily enough and then Karlach joined as you all began talking and smiling. You enjoyed being in their company, having not seen them in a while due to their own life challenges. What shocked you though was the duke Ravengard coming up to you to sign your dance card with a charming smile. It left you confused as Karlach nudged you with a giggle. After the duke signed a total of five more potential suitors signed and you were left baffled and staring at the names. Problem was, you didn’t feel excitement, you felt dread and a horrid churn in your stomach. You found yourself scanning the crowd too often hoping to see a familiar white haired elf ready to sweep you to the dance floor. When the dancing started though your heart dropped and you realised he wasn’t coming. You shook those thoughts quickly though, gods you didn’t even like the pale elf why were your thoughts all about him. As you started your dance with a young beta named Kye, blond curly hair and pale blue eyes, soft flushed cheeks, he was rather adorable, seemed too boyish to be dancing with lady’s. You kept your polite act up as you tried to ignore the churns in your stomach with each touch, you found yourself looking for the elf even more now. His scent wasn’t horrible, he smelt comforting in the ways betas do, you missed the coldness though.

“Are you alright Milady?” The beta asked.

“Yes sorry my lord, just a little distracted, the heat” you chuckled softly giving him your best fake smile you could muster. You danced and danced till alpha Duke Ravengard, you were exhausted and defeated as you didn’t see your pale elf. Your? He wasn’t yours for gods sake. Before the dance started Duke Ravengard was interrupted quickly and you froze and felt your heart jump at Duke Ancunin taking his place quickly. You felt relief flood you as you began the dance with him. You didn’t know what to say, just knew you felt ease where you were. You wanted to comment on his lateness, saying he took his time, how dare he, but you were the one always leaving him afterwards.

“I saw the way you danced with the others” he suddenly said and you frowned he was here the whole time? Bastard.

“Tense, looking around for someone, dare I say for me” he smirked lightly and you flushed.

“You’re wrong Duke Ancunin” you fought.

“Am I?” He chuckled.

“You’re not looking around anymore, you’re at ease in my arms, your scent is calm” it felt like he knew your every secret, had you been so obvious.

“I assure you it is nothing like that” you said trying to keep up an act. You glanced to Karlach and Jen on a certain turn, Karlach gave you a wink while Jen smiled. You looked to your mum next who was probably planning your wedding, honeymoon and next fifty years of your marriage, by the swoon smile she had. As you stood close to the Duke you let out a small sigh, he’d been on your mind all week and now he was finally here. You hated yourself for thinking like that, you’d already swooned over him, you didn’t even know if he was an alpha or beta or omega. Hells you didn’t even know if he was looking for marriage. Your face must’ve shown your emotions, because the Duke spoke up.

“What’s got you deep in angry thought” he teased with a chuckle.

“A lady is allowed her secrets and thoughts” you said curtly making him grin.

“Of course she is, however you’re scrunching that beautiful face so hard it must be bothersome” he commented and you felt your cheeks go hot. You cursed him silently and his piercing red eyes as the song ended and you bowed your head. Gods you needed air.

After five dances you were feeling lightheaded, two betas two alphas and the pale elf Duke. You hadn’t felt any connection with the other dancers, your heart didn’t thump loudly in your chest with desire. You sighed leaning against the cold railing, you didn’t want to go to anymore of these, maybe you could just slip away. You glanced back into the party your mother chatting happily with some other older lady’s. you glanced around to the guards seeing them unaware of your existence. You hurried to the garden swiftly dodging any eyes or lights before you found silence. You sighed debating if you could lie on the fresh grass, best not ruin the dress. You sat down in the bench instead finally alone with your thoughts.

“You always run off, little pup”

Or not.

You looked up seeing the duke you just danced with, did he follow you? You’re sure you were sneaky. You stood up out of nerves as he smiled at you.

“You shouldn’t be out here” you stated.

“Neither should you” he said back and you cursed silently. This was wrong, being alone with a man at such a time like this.

“Please be clear with me Duke Ancunin” you said and he frowned giving you his attention again.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Why’re you dancing with me? Why did you push Duke Ravengard aside? You’re not known for wanting marriage, and Duke Ravengard is a respectful alpha-“ before you could finish the duke was in front of you quickly hand holding your throat gently making your heart stop.

“Respectful he may be, but, you feel nothing towards him” he said low his eyes burning into yours.

“Marriage isn’t for love” you muttered sadly, but nervously.

“Or feelings” you added your hand holding his wrist. He didn’t choke you, just held you in place as he stared at you.

“No, but you feel this” he said quietly and leant forward. Your eyes closed without thought thinking he’d strangle you, instead cold lips pressed against yours and you gasped. You felt a noise leave your throat as his hand moved to cup your cheek and jaw tugging you closer.

“How I burn in your mind” he whispered kissing your jaw and tilting your head.

“Your thoughts are clouded with nothing but, me” his lips ghosted over your neck making you shudder in delight. You felt overly sharp teeth scrap your neck and felt your heart jump before he lifted his head again.

“You didn’t answer me” you said breathlessly as he smirked.

“This doesn’t mean anything” you added though your mind screamed at you.

“Doesn’t it?” He asked head tilted slightly, white curls blowing in the breeze that passed.

“Gods why’re you here? If someone saw us” your mind began to panic as your eyes rapidly darted around.

“Omega, calm down” his voice held authority as you looked back to him and steadied your breathing breathing in his scent. You pulled away from him and he frowned as you shook your head.

“If this is a game, stop, please” you begged jaw clenching as you held back tears.

“I need to find a husband, before it’s too late” you said surprising even yourself as you quickly left back to the party.

Astarion stared at the spot you were just in, his dead heart would be jumping if it could. You weren’t scared when he held your throat, slight nerves, but you trusted him without even realising it. He’d watched you the whole way through the hall his hands clenched in white knuckled fists as he watched those other men throw you around in what they called dancing. He felt your nerves, your discomfort, smelt your sour scent from here. When Duke Ravengard approached he couldn’t handle it, he took over, felt your relief and that sweet omega scent of yours went back to normal as you began to dance. He’d been late from needing to feed, his body already on edge from the killing, a simple low life nobody would miss now whisked into nothingness. It was stale and horrid, nothing to what your sweet blood would taste like. He found himself unbalanced and wanting more, you dancing in his arms was what it was meant to be, not other school boys barley out of their training diapers. You needed an alpha, someone able to take care of you. With his confliction he had no rank, though the way your body reacted to him suggest that perhaps in his past life he was an alpha destined. He was toying with you, till now, now he felt raw need, raw need for your body and soul to be his, devil strike any hand that lay upon you again.

Next part ->

Also

GUIIRRRLLL DINNNEERRR

#astarion x reader #ascended astarion #x reader #aob #duke astarion #Bridgerton inspired #au #vampires #Karlach #Shadowheart

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helloslytherinstuff · 1 year

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FORMER BEST FRIEND

Being the best friend of the Nevermore’s tortured artist was not easy. Especially when you were in love with him. That was sadly her case.

She was desperately in love with her best friend. She was desperately in love with someone who would never love her back. Definitely not after Wednesday Addams’s arrival to the academy. Ever since the girl stepped through Nevermore’s threshold, Xavier was obsessed with her. In turn, Y/N was pushed aside, viewing her best friend’s life from the side-lines, as he completely neglected her.

It had been mere days since the stand-off against Crackstone, since Wednesday accused him of being the Hyde. Yet, he still followed her like a love-sick puppy. It was also the first time in weeks they hung out in his shed, the girl sitting in an armchair, reading a book while the boy painted. Y/N could not see the painting he was working on, but she was almost sure it was another one of the black-haired girl.

Y/N wanted to hate her, she really did, but she could not help but admire Wednesday Addams. What she could not understand was how Xavier missed just how gay she was for Enid.

The girl sighed, closing her book as she cast a look at Xavier. The boy seemed to be completely emersed in his painting, eyes shining as a piece of hair fell over his eyes, slipping out of what she recognised to be a pink hair tie that previously belonged to her. His hands moved expertly guiding the brush on the canvas. Ahe could vividly imagine them sliding over her body.

The girl shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the unholy thoughts.

“What are you painting, Xavier?” curiosity won over her.

Yet only response she got was a grunt as his brows knitted together, causing the girl to roll her eyes.

“Okay don’t speak to me. Nothing new after all,” she muttered bitterly.

That seemed to catch the boy’s attention as his head snapped up, his eyes meeting the girl’s.

“What do you mean by that?”

“As if you did not know,” the girl scoffed.

“Well, I don’t know Y/N. I am not a mind reader if you haven’t noticed,” he said in a dangerously low tone, lashing out at her.

“I am no mind reader either, yet I look at people’s reactions when we talk. And most importantly I listen. Though both require a conversation to happen first.”

“Look, I cannot spend every waking moment with you.”

“You can spend every waking moment with Wednesday Addams,” she finally let out what was really bothering her.

She saw Xavier roll his eyes, an annoyed expression on his face.

“Can you stop being that clingy? I honestly can’t deal with you anymore. God, you are so fucking annoying,” he continued in the low tone, not raising his voice even the slightest.

His every word acted like a hit in her stomach, as she felt a pang in her chest. Until she could not feel anymore. Her mind and heart went blank at the same time. She felt as if she was floating, observing the situation from above.

“Good to know, Thorpe. You don’t have to speak to me again,” she said her voice sounding foreign even to her own ears. Y/N stood up, taking her book in her hand before stalking to the door, stopping at the threshold. There she turned around giving Xavier one last look, not being able to read his expression.

“You know, I tried. I did, but the thing is you didn’t. Consider this friendship over,” she said before slamming the door behind her.

…

She had been wandering the forest until she came across the clearing. She felt completely numb, unable to cry, unable to do anything else but scream. And so, she did.

She let out a scream, feeling the air rushing past her, leaving havoc in its wake. That did not stop her. She let out another scream. And another. And another.

She screamed until her throat burned and her lungs could not take it anymore. Exhausted she stopped for a minute, not knowing what to do next.

And so she let her legs decide. She stared walking and carried on, until she found herself wandering the streets of Jericho, completely alone.

Y/N swore she was not looking for trouble. Yet it seemed that trouble was looking for her. She was quite close to the café when they approached her.

There were three of them. All normies, all her age. And she did not like the way they were looking at her in the slightest. She clutched the book in her hand tighter, ready to strike like a viper.

“Well, well, well look what the devil brought here,” the biggest of them taunted her.

She gave him a glare, as the leaves rustled, disturbed by an invisible breeze.

“A freak,” the second continued.

“At least they sent us a pretty one,” the last laughed mockingly, taking a step closer, placing his hand on her waist.

The girl, throat still burning from all the screaming, pulled her hand back, and whacked him over head with the thick monstrosity she called a book.

…

She had returned back to Nevermore, with one black eye, bloody nose and bruised knuckles, thanking god everyone was already in bed.

Or so she thought.

Instead of sneaking back into her room, with just Bianca, her roommate seeing her, she was met by the sight of her former best friend. Y/N was tempted to turn on her heel and walk away but was not fast enough. Bianca had already seen her, and a panicked expression took over her face.

“Oh my god what happened to you?” Bianca asked rushing to Y/N’s side, as Xavier turned around, his eyes widening, a guilty expression crossing his face before being replaced by pure fury.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded an answer.

‘You did,’ she wanted to scream but could not find her voice. Instead, she pulled her hand back, and landed a hard blow to his face, most probably giving him a matching black eye, before turning around and walking into her room.

Bianca gave Xavier one last dirty look before following her friend to their room. She barely closed the door behind her before she heard a bang, followed by a loud yelp.

Y/N was standing next to the now broken mirror, blood trickling down her right hand.

“Uh oh, he screwed up really bad. What happened?” Bianca asked, fetching water and cloth to clean up the other girl’s hand.

“He…” she started her voice sounding hoarse, tears prickling in her eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, she started again, “He, called me clingy and annoying after I kind of called him out on ghosting me.”

“That bastard. I am going to kill him and anyone else who did this,” Bianca gestured to Y/N’s face and hands.

“Please, don’t,” she whispered as she fought the tears threatening to spill. And they did. The numbness finally gave away, letting the dam break. Bianca would spend that night, and two more, holding her friend, comforting her, cursing Xavier Thorpe’s existence.

…

She awoke on Monday morning to Bianca shaking her. By now, the whole of Nevermore knew about the fight between Y/N and the resident tortured artist. Just the day before Enid and Wednesday came to visit her, the black-haired girl, congratulating her on dealing with the normies. She also offered to kill Xavier if Y/N wanted, Enid acting horrified, but deep down, knowing she would help Wednesday hide his body.

That event alone brought a smile back to the girl’s lips.

“Wear something cute to show him what he’s missing,” Bianca nudged her friend, ducking as the aforementioned girl chucked a pillow in her roommate’s direction.

“I am going, but let the record show, that the only thing that concerns Thorpe, that I truly desire to know is whether he has a black eye.”

“Of course, it is,” Bianca remarked in a matter-of-fact tone before they both burst out laughing.

…

Walking into the botany class she cursed under her breath, seeing the only vacant seat being her usual one. Right next to her former best friend, who to her delight, was indeed sporting a black eye.

Whether she wanted to or not, she took the seat, noticing the boy giving her a small smile. Usually, she would gladly return it. That day, she wanted to give him a look so cold that it would be a wonder if he did not freeze at the spot, instead opting to turn her back to him. Yet, Xavier and his black eye did not seem to take the hint, as minutes later a butterfly landed on her hand.

Something Xavier always did to cheer her up. She let out a scoff before smashing the butterfly, promptly turning it into dust, wondering whether that was his form of apology. If so, he really needed to step up his game.

Y/N tried to focus on the lesson, but it was hard as his eyes burned a hole into her back. An invisible breeze ruffled her notes as she slammed her hand on the desk to keep them from flying away, unknowingly bringing up her injured hand. She let out a tiny yelp as pain shot through the broken skin.

Looking around she tried to make sure no one heard. And no one did. Well, no one except for a certain long-haired boy.

…

For the first time in days, she was left alone without any supervision, and she had to admit she hated it. Without anyone to distract her, she kept thinking back to what Xavier told to her, wondering if he was right.

Lying in her bed, she felt hot tears roll down her face, not trying to stop them. she was wallowing in self-pity when she heard a rustling. She sat up, focusing her gaze on the door. Not wishing to be seen in that state she crossed the room in a few strides, before locking the door. After all, Bianca had her own set of keys.

“Well, I’m glad I did not choose to come through there,’’ a voice came from behind her, causing her to jump up and whirl around.

“How did you… Right,” she thought back to the fact that the boy used to date her roommate and so must have been accustomed to sneaking in.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, now you want to talk?” she said sarcastically, giving him a glare.

“Oh, come on Love don’t…” he started, but was quickly interrupted by a key flying in his direction.

“Don’t call me that ever again.”

Xavier picked up the key, putting it in his pocket and she realised her mistake immediately even without him voicing it.

“Now you don’t have a way out,” he grinned.

“I think I might strangle you,” she said doing a choking motion with her hands.

“Yeah, I certainly deserve that. But I do think the marks would match my black eye quite well,” he joked, coaxing a strangled laugh from the girl.

“I’m glad I can still make you laugh, Love,” he smiled at the girl, who looked like she wanted to strangle herself for a change.

“Very funny Xav… Thorpe,” she quickly corrected herself, turning her back to him, hoping he did not see her façade break.

Instead, an electric shock went through her as Xavier took her hand in his, turning her around.

“Come on Y/N, look at me, please. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. Please forgive me,” the boy pleaded putting one hand on the girl’s waist and the other under her chin.

The girl shifted her eyes down, avoiding looking at his face, feeling guilty for the black eye he was sporting. The truth was, she could never stay mad him before. But tis time? This time he struck a nerve.

She had always felt like she was not good enough for him. Not even in a platonic way, always feeling as if she was annoying him, which he confirmed just a few days ago.

Y/N did not realise that that she started crying again, before Xavier’s hand left her chin, and focused on wiping her tears away.

“Please don’t cry, Love. I’m sorry. I did not want to hurt you,” he repeated over and over.

“It… it’s not that. I, well I… there is…,” her head was spinning from the proximity between the two of them, his hand of her waist emitting heat, taking her ability to think clearly away.

“Oh fuck whatever! The thing is that I love you, Xavier! I always have. Ever since we met. And I don’t mean in a platonic or a brotherly way. Trust me, I have tried to explain my feelings that way. And guess what it did not work! The truth is that I am in love with you. Utterly and completely in…” she was interrupted by Xavier crashing his lips to hers, catching her completely off guard as her eyes widened. Her brain did not completely register what’s happening until after he pulled away.

“Did you just kiss me?” she asked him with disbelief in her eyes.

“No,” he claimed.

“Oh, okay I could have sworn… No, wait you did kiss me!” she said, jabbing a finger into Xavier’s chest as he gave her a shit eating grin.

“And I will gladly do it again,” he said leaning in, “unless you don’t…”

This time it was Y/N’s turn to cut him off. She could feel the boy smile into the kiss as he wrapped his arms tighter around his former best friend.

#xavier thrope imagine #xavier x reader #xavier thrope fanfic #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #angst #fluff

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beautifulchris · 11 months

Text

arts & crafts center

wc: 0,8k

pairing: demigod!hyunjin x gn demigod!reader

summary: your shared passion for art and your father's powers bring you closer together

genres: fluff, little angst, demigod!au, camp half-blood!au, strangers to friends!au, mutual pining!au, son of aphrodite!hyunjin, child of aether!reader

tw: magic, physical injury, infirmary, idiots

notes: yeah, since there's more cabins being constructed, i took the liberty to add gods of my choice. meet aether, the primordial god of light and the upper air! i'm reposting the works i posted while shadowbanned, please don't mind me

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @badwithten send ask/dm/comment to be added!

GIF publié par juiceofmoons

The guy spent most of his time in the arts and crafts center to paint. You went there to sculpt every once in a while.

Every time you went, he was the only one that wasn't from the Athena cabin. There were always Athena kids there, but an Aphrodite son... Now, that was something.

When you'd hear him complaining about the light, you'd bend it so that it would hit his subject —whatever it was— like he wanted. It was just practice for you and a divine gift for him.

It went like this for a few weeks, until he came to see you after finishing a painting. "Aether kid? Thank you. My paintings are way better when you're here and use the light," he smiled, bowing slightly.

"It's my pleasure to help a fellow artist, Aphrodite kid."

"Please, call me Hyunjin."

"Y/N."

"Sorry I didn't come earlier Y/N, I had to make sure it was really you before presenting myself."

"Of course, it would've been embarrassing to thank someone for something they didn't do," you giggled and he laughed with you.

Since then, you became friends, often going to the arts and crafts center together —at least when you went— which was more often now.

Sometimes you'd pass by on your way to the training grounds and turn invisible to scare him. Nevertheless, you'd wait for his paintbrush to be everywhere but in his hand to avoid a disaster (you're not a monster).

Once, though, he was so focused on something important for him, he got mad when you sneaked up on him, which startled you.

"Stop scaring me like that!" he hissed, annoyed.

"Okay," you faltered, "I'm sorry."

He looked over and his anger dissipated a bit. "Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to use charmspeak."

"No, it's okay. I'm really sorry. I promise I won't do it anymore."

You kept your promise alright. You were so ashamed of yourself that you avoided going back there altogether. No, it was not the best thing to do. But hey, you were young and your feelings mattered.

Of course, Hyunjin's too.

Even knowing that, you'd turn invisible and flee every time you'd see him looking for you. When he walked past your cabin (your siblings sure knew an Aphrodite kid was searching for you), before and after meals, chariot races and games of capture-the-flag.

Yeah, it lasted a while. Around two weeks, I think.

Then, Hyunjin had enough. He never thought he could miss someone so badly but here he was, pathetically whining about you not wanting to speak to him.

Needless to say, all his friends knew about you and the terrible things he did to drive you away. It was a matter of time before they teamed up with your siblings to stop this nonsense —according to them, anyway.

Fortunately —or not, depending who you're asking—, on one fateful Friday evening, an Ares kid hurt you badly enough during capture-the-flag that you ended up in the infirmary.

Guess who came to see you first?

Yes, Hyunjin, good job!

You were laying in bed, your sword arm in a plaster. He was standing a few beds away, panting and staring at your face then your arm.

If you spotted him, you did nothing to leave. Maybe you were too badly hurt from the game or just exhausted from running away. Either way, Hyunjin approached and sat on a wooden chair next to you.

"Hey," he greeted sheepishly, rubbing his nape.

“Aye,” you greeted back, a little weak.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like my arm has been run over by a train. I’ll be okay tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he breathed, then inhaled deeply. “Y/N, I’m sorry. Scaring you away was the last thing I wanted.”

You shook your head and held his gaze. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I used my ability to make you uncomfortable and I deeply apologize. I avoided you because I was too embarrassed.”

His eyes softened at your sight and kind, honest words. “I got mad at you for nothing, I’m sorry.”

“It was justified,” you insisted.

“Still, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It wasn’t cool of me to do what I did, your anger was rightful.”

“I—”

“Can you please stop and make up already? Gods, you’re so dense, both of you,” Lia cut off, frowning and tending to another camper close to them.

Hyunjin and you apologized at the same time and laughed quietly.

“The truth is… I was painting something for you, and I wanted it to be perfect. I might have been a lot stressed about it.”

“You made a painting for me? You’re so sweet Jinnie.”

Blushing at the nickname, he looked away and took your unharmed hand in his.

“So… are you coming back to the arts and crafts center if only to receive my gift?”

“Depends,” you smirked, “do you miss me or my powers?”

“All of you.”

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, here's the masterlist <3

#kflixnet #k labels #wkcnet #kpop demigod au #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #stray kids demigod au #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids x you #gender neutral reader #percy jackson au #pjo #hoo #hwang hyunjin x reader

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iapetusneume · 11 months

Text

Wing Tier List - Primarch Version

So, because my partners encouraged me to write this and there seems to be a few mutuals who are interested, I’ve compiled my Wing Tier List for the Primarchs. This is inspired by this post about an exchange between Jaghatai Khan and Mortarion shortly after Mortarion ascended to be a Daemon Primarch. I am in no way an expert in 40k tabletop rules or lore - these rulings were made mostly off of Vibes with a dash of the lore that I know - or of wings on fictional characters. I’m just someone who has spent way too much time thinking about this.

I should also mention that, while it is impossible for me to be Normal about liking Sanguinius, this did not influence the actual rankings.

(I’m going to try to use official art as best I can.)

So, let’s get to it!

Contender: Sanguinius of the Blood Angels

Because to start off with anyone else would be heresy. His wings are so well-known that he carries the nickname “the Angel” among his brothers as well as the other Legions. Jokingly and lovingly called Hawk-Boy by fandom. Commonly-known in canon as one of the two most prettiest primarchs. Wings so significant that when I went to google “which primarchs have wings” to make sure I wasn’t missing someone Obvious, I got this:

Yeah, I didn’t even say Sanguinius in my search, but Google just Knew. (And also, thank you so much to @plagueplanethq for helping me fact-check how many Primarchs actually have wings.)

Anyways. Sanguinius is first to be evaluated because he’s the OG winged-primarch. He’s also happens to be the only Loyalist on this list.

Analysis: When setting out to do the look for Sanguinius, the original artists leaned in super hard to the “Angel” keyword and not so much the “vampire” part. If you showed me a picture of Sanguinius before I was into 40k and asked me what he is, I would have never guessed “vampire.” I have seen these sorts of wings hundreds of times. Are they nicely done? Oh definitely. Does he make it look good? Absolutely. How unique is it? ...not really? He’s an angel, and has white wings. The artists understood the assignment and did a great job, but this isn’t exactly new:

7 / 10

Contender: Angron of the World Eaters

Analysis: When a dude has a nickname like “the Red Angel,” well, of course he’ll eventually get wings. I was a little worried at first that this was going to be too much “traditional demon or devil” wings, but I do like some of the detail on the model! Doing skin and/or scales for the wings also feels more practical for someone pledged to Khorne, because it feels like a chance of less maintenance than if feathers get all messy. (IRL birds will go take baths and such when they need it, but is Angron going to bother? That’s up for debate.) The spikes are very nice, and the few holes in the wings add some personality. It’s also a good reminder that they’re flying because magic and because the Warp laughs in the face of science. Consider me pleasantly surprised:

7 / 10

Contender: Magnus the Red of the Thousand Sons

Analysis: Feathers make sense for the guy pledged to a god who has birb motifs going on. I really appreciate the fact that these feathers are distinct, and have a bit of character. Also, honorable mention to hexygoblin‘s paint job here, which is stunning. He’s definitely got the best feathers on wings. I also feel like Tzeentch would appreciate a bit of style:

8 / 10

Contender: Fulgrim of the Emperor’s Children

Analysis: It is truly a shame that we don’t have a more current model for Daemon Primarch Fulgrim. I am forced to go off of the vibe of the model and that first image of him screaming to try to make a wing assessment. This looks fairly standard for what one might think of demons or devils, and I gotta say, I’m not impressed? The second drawing suggests feathers, which would make sense for the Phoenix. Mostly, I would expect the primarch who pledged themself to the Lord of Excess to be more... excessive? I’ve seen some cool fanart for different wing interpretations for Fulgrim, but I’m trying to go off of ‘canon’ as much as I can here:

5 / 10

(I will have to reassess one day when he gets a new Daemon Primarch model. Maybe we don'thave one yet because it isn't perfect.)

Contender: Mortarion of the Death Guard

Analysis: I’m definitely getting moth vibes from the way the wings are done on the model. This model was also designed a bit more naturally to look like he’s flying. Artist took the prompt of “decay, so probably flies” and gave him flies on the model, which means bonus wings. But this isn’t a “how many wings” contest, this is for “coolest wings.” (Mortarion would win for sheer quantity of wings because of all of the flies.) There’s no way he’s flying with those wings without Warp Shenanigans. I feel like these are the most unique out of all of them. The paint job and also how the wings looks like they’re trying to be tatters also suggests the futile fight against entropy, which is the Lord of Decay’s bag:

9 / 10

Honorable mention (since he’s not a primarch) is Vashtorr, because I wanted a 10 / 10 on this list:

Coolest wings, for sure. Should they be able to fly? Absolutely not. But Chaos Gods don’t care what you think is logical.

10 / 10

*drumroll* WINNER OF THE [PRIMARCH] TIER LIST IS...........

MORTARION!

#sanguinius #angron #magnus the red #fulgrim #mortarion #primarch #40k shitposting #please do not take this seriously #also Daemon Primarch Fulgrim model WHEN???#i saw so many kitbashes when trying to google primarchs with wings

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pufflix · 1 year

Text

arts & crafts center

wc: 0,8k

pairing: demigod!hyunjin x gn demigod!reader

summary: your shared passion for art and your father's powers bring you closer together

genres: fluff, little angst, demigod!au, camp half-blood!au, strangers to friends!au, mutual pining!au, son of aphrodite!hyunjin, child of aether!reader

tw: magic, physical injury, infirmary, idiots

notes: yeah, since there's more cabins being constructed, i took the liberty to add gods of my choice. meet aether, the primordial god of light and the upper air!

networks: @kflixnet @k-radio

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @badwithten send ask/dm/comment to be added!

The guy spent most of his time in the arts and crafts center to paint. You went there to sculpt every once in a while.

Every time you went, he was the only one that wasn't from the Athena cabin. There were always Athena kids there, but an Aphrodite son... Now, that was something.

When you'd hear him complaining about the light, you'd bend it so that it would hit his subject —whatever it was— like he wanted. It was just practice for you and a divine gift for him.

"It's my pleasure to help a fellow artist, Aphrodite kid."

"Please, call me Hyunjin."

"Y/N."

"Sorry I didn't come earlier Y/N, I had to make sure it was really you before presenting myself."

"Of course, it would've been embarrassing to thank someone for something they didn't do," you giggled and he laughed with you.

Since then, you became friends, often going to the arts and crafts center together —at least when you went— which was more often now.

Once, though, he was so focused on something important for him, he got mad when you sneaked up on him, which startled you.

"Stop scaring me like that!" he hissed, annoyed.

"Okay," you faltered, "I'm sorry."

He looked over and his anger dissipated a bit. "Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to use charmspeak."

"No, it's okay. I'm really sorry. I promise I won't do it anymore."

You kept your promise alright. You were so ashamed of yourself that you avoided going back there altogether. No, it was not the best thing to do. But hey, you were young and your feelings mattered.

Of course, Hyunjin's too.

Yeah, it lasted a while. Around two weeks, I think.

Then, Hyunjin had enough. He never thought he could miss someone so badly but here he was, pathetically whining about you not wanting to speak to him.

Fortunately —or not, depending who you're asking—, on one fateful Friday evening, an Ares kid hurt you badly enough during capture-the-flag that you ended up in the infirmary.

Guess who came to see you first?

Yes, Hyunjin, good job!

You were laying in bed, your sword arm in a plaster. He was standing a few beds away, panting and staring at your face then your arm.

If you spotted him, you did nothing to leave. Maybe you were too badly hurt from the game or just exhausted from running away. Either way, Hyunjin approached and sat on a wooden chair next to you.

"Hey," he greeted sheepishly, rubbing his nape.

“Aye,” you greeted back, a little weak.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like my arm has been run over by a train. I’ll be okay tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he breathed, then inhaled deeply. “Y/N, I’m sorry. Scaring you away was the last thing I wanted.”

You shook your head and held his gaze. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I used my ability to make you uncomfortable and I deeply apologize. I avoided you because I was too embarrassed.”

His eyes softened at your sight and kind, honest words. “I got mad at you for nothing, I’m sorry.”

“It was justified,” you insisted.

“Still, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It wasn’t cool of me to do what I did, your anger was rightful.”

“I—”

“Can you please stop and make up already? Gods, you’re so dense, both of you,” Lia cut off, frowning and tending to another camper close to them.

Hyunjin and you apologized at the same time and laughed quietly.

“The truth is… I was painting something for you, and I wanted it to be perfect. I might have been a lot stressed about it.”

“You made a painting for me? You’re so sweet Jinnie.”

Blushing at the nickname, he looked away and took your unharmed hand in his.

“So… are you coming back to the arts and crafts center if only to receive my gift?”

“Depends,” you smirked, “do you miss me or my powers?”

“All of you.”

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, here's the masterlist <3

#kflixnet #k radio!#kpop demigod au #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #stray kids demigod au #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids x you #gender neutral reader #percy jackson au #pjo #hoo #hwang hyunjin x reader

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twigg96 · 11 months

Text

Tag Game: Ten True Facts About Me

Rules: Share 10 facts about yourself and tag other blogs! I want to get to know my mutuals, and the people I follow a little bit :) The facts can be about anything!

Tagged by: the lovely @ir0n-moon thank you so much my dear 💕💕

1. I used to be big into cosplay. I used to hand make cosplay costumes, props, and once even attempted to make a wig. I have only ever been to a few conventions but I miss the community I used to share with fellow cosplayers pre-Covid.

2. I had an Anime Amino if anyone remembers that app. This was back during an age before discord. Back during the time I took a break from Tumblr (2015-17? Maybe) I started on Amino to look for community and friendship during a time I felt like I had none. Amino was literally just a mix of Tumblr with random blogs and discord with its chat rooms option. People mostly used it for RPs and other community events. It was a great time honestly kinda sad they killed the site.

3. I love weird ass music. I’m not talking like “oh that new album by famous artist with a weird name” no! I’m talking music that will make normal people run screaming into the next room. Give me remixed pirate/Viking songs all day long. You don’t even have to remix them. I’ll take them as is if you’re feeling spicy. Heavy metal versions of songs that have no right being metal (Disney songs, pop songs, country). 🤤. Those artists are doing gods work. Random 80’s songs. The sluttiest dirtiest music you can think of. Jazz. All of it man I love all of it as long as it’s weird.

4. My very first fan fiction was written on fan fiction.net. I used to have two accounts it was because I forgot my password for the first one but then I used the second account more than the first so it all worked out. I kinda want to archive the stuff from those accounts onto AO3 even though I’m not in those fandoms anymore. Just so I have the content.

5. My first ever crushes were on Shego and Kim Possible from said show. I didn’t know how to verbalize this as a kid so I told everyone I loved Justin Timberlake from *NSYNC.

6. I’ve been thinking about publishing a few books. I have some ideas for a few novels, series, and kids books. I just don’t know where to start or even if they’re worth while.

7. I have two dogs and two cats! My puppies names are Maizy and Chihiro. They are both Labs and are just the cutest angel babies! My cats are Eevee and Oreo. Eevee is chunk rescue baby. Oreo is our prissy princess who needs to be held at all times.

8. I have never once reset one of my animal crossing villages. I’ve had three on three different games. Game Cube, DS, and Switch. I always do my best to name the village perfectly , I would do anything in my power to have the perfect neighborhood/ villagers, I would even piss off Mr. resetti back when he was a thing just to get a second chance to try an interaction again.

9. I’m thinking about starting to stream on Twitch. Nothing too serious. Just something fun that I can try to do!

10. I am a huge collector. I collect many things lol old books, (first editions, cool instructional books, books published earlier than 1955, All the Stephen King novels), ART! I love art. All of it. Prints from artists I buy from. Hand made pieces I randomly find at art fairs and craft shows, paintings, those mystery boxes that hold figurines in them I fucking love them so god damned much.

I think I’ll tag @nsfwitchy, @normanblowup, @morbid-pigeon, @el-michoacano, @gointothevvater, @gogomeaty,

#twiggy talks #tag game #fun facts #facts about me #get to know me

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orbleglorb · 1 year

Note

The thing! About Parker! Tell me about Parker (which one? Thanks for asking!)

i made this post a while ago where i go off the rails explain my headcanons for each and every parker. however, i do have more! i have also changed some stuff. but go ahead and read both posts so you get the full experience >:)

i really really really really want to draw them in a line up one day.

prime (he/him but does not care): uses a quad cane to get around and he's decorated it with stickers, mostly those barcode stickers that are on fruits. gives incredibly good hugs but might burn you a bit. has a hard time making and keeping friends/romantic partners/platonic partners/etc but once he gets close to someone he gets very clingy

ii (it/he): was an artist, liked graffiti and spray paint. it really enjoyed painting as well and could paint beautiful landscapes and portraits. over time, it learned some magic and would enchant these paintings, to give the viewer extra luck or a feeling of vertigo (or something else entirely)

iii (he/him or se/ser): in the last post, i mentioned that he is dating wyatt mason. they met at wyatt's 17th bday party, which also doubled as a Diplomatic Mission to make blaseball gods and klickball gods not as mad at each other! (for context: wyatt mason is the child of a klickball god). that didn't work very well, but wyatt and iii met and became friends. at the time of meeting wyatt, iii was 18 but he later turned 19 a few months later. wyatt and iii would meet in "secret" (aka they would hang out in los angeles and iii would do ser best to not be spotted). they frequented parks a lot. wyatt would grab a basketball, go "this one's for you!", shoot the ball, and miss. and iii would be endeared every time. they had a qpr that iii kept mostly hidden from the coin. when the grand unslam and wyatt masoning happened, wyatt mason was gone and replaced by NaN, who is kind of a different being? and wyatt mason as we know him became the microphone. iii was pretty messed up after wyatt's death but tried very hard to appear normal. one of ser favorite things to do with wyatt before his death was make tea, sit huddled up to each other, doing different things. like iii would read a book and wyatt would play geometry dash.

iiii (he/they): universal friend. was really excited for christmas when he died. they liked all typical fair foods; pickles, corn dogs, funnel cakes, etc. they loved going to farmer's markets.

iiiii (any, primarily he/she/they but doesn't mind neos): my poor little meow meow......... i think he liked beyblade some. never really got into it but did impulse buy a bey once. i think he definitely liked neopets. had a blumaroo. she had trouble with food textures and would avoid eating sometimes, and eventually started getting or making smoothies. has the same energy as a possessed kid in a horror movie but that's just because she is putting on an act! they're actually really sweet and softspoken

iiiii alt (she/he): vegetarian. has a patterned headband collection. gets reading glasses and wears them on a chain around her neck. likes argyle and floral print (although maybe not together), and usually wears a blouse and floor-length skirt. he put flames on the side of her wheelchair. really really sweet and talkative. also really lonely! she needs a friend :(

#blaseball #parker macmillan #asks 4 sasha

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ofxiang-archive · 1 year

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TASK 002: PLAYLIST.

full playlist below !!

1. what’s a song you can put on repeat & never get tired of ?

i know the end by phoebe bridgers — "somewhere in germany, but i can't place it. man, i hate this part of texas, close my eyes, fantasize, three clicks and i'm home. when i get back, i'll lay around, then i'll get up and lay back down, romanticize a quiet life, there's no place like my room."

2. a song that instantly lifts your mood when you’re sad

cuff it by beyoncé — "bet you you'll see far, bet you you'll see stars, bet you you'll elevate, bet you you'll meet god, 'cause i feel like falling in love. i'm in the mood to fuck something up, we gonna fuck up the night."

3. your favorite song from your all-time favorite artist

nobody by mitski — "venus, planet of love was destroyed by global warming, did its people want too much too? did its people want too much? and i don't want your pity, i just want somebody near me, guess i'm a coward, i just want to feel alright."

4. a song that inspires or motivates you

mama by indigo — "hey mama, now you can lean on me, i'll always be by your side, hey mama, because you gave selflessly to me, because you were my support; hey mama, now you can believe in your son, you can smile."

5. what’s a song that reminds you of someone ?

fourth of july by sufjan stevens — "did you get enough love, my little dove, why do you cry? / shall we look at the moon, my little loon, why do you cry? make the most of your life, while it is rife, while it is light. well you do enough talk, my little hawk, why do you cry?"

6. the song that gets you in the mood to party

drunk-dazed by indigo — "honestly, i'm scared my reflection in the mirror is unfamiliar, the pitiful truth behind this mask, but i never escape. i feel it, my head's in a daze, daze, daze, i'm addicted, i replay, play, play."

7. your guilty pleasure

...baby one more time by britney spears — my loneliness is killing me (and i), i must confess i still believe (still believe), when i'm not with you i lose my mind, give me a sign, hit me baby one more time.

8. a song that’s out of your typical music preference

about you by the 1975 — "there was something about you that now i can't remember, it's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender, and i'll miss you on a train, i'll miss you in the morning, i never know what to think about."

9. what do you listen to when you’re in love ?

#1: yellow by coldplay — "your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones turn into something beautiful, and you know, for you, i'd bleed myself dry. for you, i'd bleed myself dry ... look at the stars, look how they shine for you, and all the things you do."

10. do you have song you’ve listened to all your childhood ?

welcome to the black parade by my chemical romance — "a world that sends you reeling from decimated dreams, your misery and hate will kill us all. so paint it black and take it back, let's shout it loud and clear, defiant to the end, we hear the call to carry on."

11. is there a song your parent/sibling/friend/etc. introduced you to that you love ?

slipping through my fingers by abba — "do i really see what's in her mind? each time i think i'm close to knowing, she keeps on growing, slipping through my fingers all the time; sometimes i wish that i could freeze the picture, and save it from the funny tricks of time."

12. a song you didn’t expect to like

satellite by harry styles — "i go 'round and 'round, satellite; spinning out, waiting for you to pull me in, i can see you're lonely down there, don't you know that i'm right here?"

13. what song would be your ‘intro’ music ?

lullaby by got7 — "if i'm dreaming, don’t ever wake me up, i wanna hear your melody, the only thing I could need. 'cause if i had to live without you i'd be lost, and in this moment i want more."

14. what song best represents your outward look — or your attitude towards life ?

rose-colored boy by paramore — "you say "we gotta look on the bright side" i say "well, maybe if you wanna go blind" you say my eyes are getting too dark now, but boy, you ain't ever seen my mind. just let me cry a little bit longer i ain't gonna smile if i don't want to."

15. the song with your favorite lyrics

funeral by phoebe bridgers — "i have this dream where i'm screaming underwater, while my friends are waving from the shore ... jesus christ, i'm so blue all the time, and that's just how i feel, always have and i always will. and it's 4am again and i'm doing nothing again." inner child by indigo — "i wish we would smile more, it will be okay because today's me is doing fine. yesterday's you, now it's all clear, i want to hug the many thorns in the budding rose. the smiling kid, the child who was always laughing brightly, when i see you like that, i can't help smiling."

#infinite:task #whiplash from those first 5 songs

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rejectofsociety · 9 months

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🔥 abt anything ur heart desires

I’ve been thinking about this extensively so here we fucking go.

Music doesn’t have to be good to become popular. Music can be mediocre at best and still do incredibly well, gaining millions and millions of fans with very little effort from the artist. It’s like beige paint, in a sense. Beige is not the most interesting or expressive or intimate color out there, it’s pretty bland on its own. And yet so so many people paint their houses with beige paint because it looks just good enough to fit in just about anywhere. Music can be built on algorithms, have incoherent, insincere, overall just-not-that-good lyrics, and be bland— it can sound like fucking beige paint— but as long as it hits enough taste buds, that’s fine.

More and more, music gets watered down and bastardized just to reach as many people as possible and I really do feel like the internet and social media can be blamed here. Social media has gotten the youth very comfortable and come to accept a very sanitized version of the world. Whether it’s skinny white girls on instagram showing off their excellent vacations or otherwise, people are being fed insincerity— to the point of expecting it everywhere they go— and it touches every part of society (god forbid women have body fat or body hair, god forbid men aren’t tall or muscular), but it especially touches music.

You can sing about the same break up for ten years with lyrics that are meant to look like something but are actually fuck-all, playing the poor-little-me card, as long as you’re pretty enough (a certain blonde with red lipstick should come to mind). Nobody wants to sing about real shit anymore.

It hits me extra hard for punk and metal, especially seeing these people try to make metal music but even that is somehow sanitized. These kids are too afraid to make shit for themselves and be messy with it. Where’s the hand painted patches and greasy hair? No one does that shit because it’s not instagram-worthy. If you like pop punk and metalcore, that’s great, honestly, there’s very talented bands in both those genres and I’ve enjoyed both a fair amount. But they are much cleaner than crust punk, anarcho-punk, thrash metal, death metal, all that messy, nasty shit. And I miss the messy nasty shit, but it just doesn’t get popular anymore since people are too worried about presentability. I’ve even seen this sort of resurgence in nu-metal, but for fuck’s sake— it’s clean.

Fuck, even Metallica, with their resurgence hurts to watch. They’ve completely lost their ability to play real metal and, while they have a few gems, they’re mediocre. Especially compared to other thrash metal bands. But, they’re catchy (metal isn’t fucking made to be catchy) and because they’re catchy, they hit enough taste buds that they’ve become the most mainstream thrash metal band. Leaving other thrashers in the dust. (For example: Megadeth, who didn’t want to sing about the scary sandman or apocalypse but about real shit like corruption in the government).

So bottom line, everything has to be neat and polished— not good— and people are just okay with that.

Send a “ 🔥 “ and i rant

#I don’t know if any of this makes any sense at all #It got a little off topic #Again no hate to anyone who enjoys pop or pop punk or metalcore #its just frustrating when that’s *all* there is in the industry #asks #anon

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motownfiction · 2 years

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oil painting

Steph is in the mood for an oil painting. She takes out her supplies and the canvas her grandmother got her for an early birthday gift, and she’s all set to paint her rendition of the watermelon Pop Rocks package – the one she pours into her mouth whenever she and Sam go to the corner store after school. Of course, that’s when Daniel shows up.

He comes to her window because he doesn’t seem to know how to enter a girl’s house any other way. She lets him in because God help her, he’s still cute as hell. When his feet land on the ground in Steph’s bedroom, he smiles like it’s a real accomplishment. Her heart feels like it’s on the rack, but for a second, she pretends like she doesn’t care. She’s kissing him like he’s the only one she wants to kiss.

It’s fun in the few seconds it lasts.

Daniel smiles when they break apart.

“If this is how you’re gonna say hi from now on, I’m gonna sneak in through your window a lot more often,” he says.

Steph playfully smacks him in the shoulder. He’s still grinning, and she has to fight the urge to kiss him again.

“I don’t know what came over me,” she says.

“I do,” Daniel says immediately. “Kinda came here to demonstrate, as a matter of fact.”

Steph rolls her eyes. When Daniel wraps his arms around her waist, she doesn’t stop him. She hates how good it feels to have him here. She spins around and kisses him quickly, just once. He beams at her like he knows how much it means (because he probably does).

“You’re gorgeous,” Daniel says.

Steph blushes and resents herself for it. She’s in the terrible position of knowing Daniel DeLuca’s reputation with the ladies of St. Catherine’s while also being his friend. At least, she thinks they were friends. Sam said his friends could be hers, too, and she made the sometimes unfortunate mistake of believing him. Maybe if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t be standing here with Daniel, ready to push him up against the wall so she can kiss him some more.

“You’re cliché,” Steph finally says. “I bet you use gorgeous on all your girls.”

“Not all,” Daniel says. “Just the pretty blondes who are really good at painting.”

Steph feels herself begin to blush again. She motions to the Canvas and the oil paints on the other side of the room.

“You noticed,” she says.

“Of course I noticed,” Daniel says. “You’re an artist. It’s hard to miss you.”

Steph bows her head and fights off another bright pink blush. Daniel notices, and she thinks it’s very cool of him to pretend like he doesn’t care.

“I was just about to paint something, actually,” she says.

“Oh, really?” Daniel asks. “What was it gonna be?”

She struggles. She notices the watermelon Pop Rocks on her desk, and she wishes they’d evaporate. She’s not going to stand here and explain what she likes to do after school with Sam, her boyfriend, one of Daniel’s very best friends. She’s not going to explain it. She doesn’t want to break his heart, and by his, she knows she means both Sam and Daniel. They don’t deserve this, but she deserves herself. The thought makes sense under duress.

“Nothing special,” she lies, and she wonders if Daniel can see through it (like Sam could). “I guess I better think of a new subject.”

Daniel hops in front of her and puffs out his chest like Superman.

“What about me?” he asks in a faux-deep voice.

Steph giggles.

“I don’t think that’s such a great idea,” she says.

“Oh, come on!” Daniel begs. “I think it’d be awesome. You could call it something like The World’s Shortest Casanova. Of course, that might not be true. I don’t know whether or not Casanova was tall. Do you?”

Steph snorts to avoid laughing again.

“I think it’s pretty ballsy of you to call yourself Casanova,” she says. “And besides … do you really think this is the best thing to do? Paint our affair?”

“I’m not saying we should paint ourselves doing what we’re gonna do later,” Daniel says. “I’m saying you should paint me before.”

Steph sighs. She looks at the empty canvas and then back at Daniel. He really is impossibly cute.

“Fine,” she relents. “But I don’t want anyone else to ever see it.”

“You’ve got my word,” Daniel says.

In the end, he’s telling the truth. Nobody sees the painting until 2008, when Steph is moving out of her apartment and into her own house. They have a laugh about it then. But for now, Steph is sixteen years old, and she might be falling in love with the boy right in front of her, brushstroke by brushstroke.

And it’s paralyzing.

#drabble #ch: steph armstrong #ch: daniel deluca #year: 1983 #asks #ponyboyatreides

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niamhdonlan · 2 years

Text

Punk art and clothing moodboard for digital sketchbook

Punk art and clothing have coincided with each other since the 70's, with a cloth of the clothing having artwork on them, or badges of art and album cover switched all over the jackets or the trousers. This is why I felt like making these two mood boards together while reaching them both would give me the best outcomes.

First I will show my punk art moodboard;

For this mood board I wanted to keep it simple just sow the art was clear on the page and that was the main focus. My first bit of research was punk exhibitions and here I found ‘Punk art’ named the first punk art exhibition, curated by Marc H. Miller and Bettie Ringma in Washington DC 1978. When I first did the research I though Andy Warhol was the curator, however in further research I found that I got this wrong, explain the crossed out name. I decided to display the invite, which was name out of a paper bag which is very much like most punk art, very DIY. I also decided to show the ‘Punk Manifesto’ that as written on the wall at the exhibition. While looking into this I found an article written by Miss Rosen for Another Man magazine, “Everyone had their claim to the title of being a punk and we went with their works. Half the reason they went along with the show was because it wasn’t in New York. There was this sense that, ‘We are going to invade Washington!’”...Ruth Marten did live tattooing while Steven Kramer’s Destructive Mouse, a big heavy piece of metal that moved erratically around the floor hitting people in the shins’.I really enjoyed looking through this exhibition and how they displayed their work, as I can take notes for my own exhibition for my final outcome.

Secondly I decided to show some of Jamie Reids artwork, who is one off if not the most famous punk artist, who worked very closely went Vivienne Westwood and Malcom McLaren in the 70′s. Reid has always called himself an anarchist and his work always mirrors that even up until now, his art is very politically driven and meant to say something. In the 70′s he created his pieces such as his God save the Queen piece , and even tour posters and album art for punk bands such as the Sex Pistols. In recent years he still stands up for what he believes in such as working with Extinction Rebellion and anti trump prints. Jamie Reid is a huge inspiration throughout punk culture, and I have always really enjoyed his style and feel like I take inspiration from him in my work, with the way he uses font and colour so boldly.

- Jamie Reid x Extinction rebellion

God save the USA by Jamie Reid

However even after making this mood board I did some further research I found another art piece I really loved. The art is by Niamh Hill who is a first year fine art student, her piece is called ‘Thresher’ and it is a celebration of punk aesthetics and being and alternative person who is authentically themselves. On her website thee further explains the piece “Punk is innately connected to misdirection. The stylisation, diy piercings, inhuman makeup and hair, fully cast in black, decorated in pins and badges preaching anarchy. The aesthetic is generally unapproachable but the ideology behind it is entirely about acceptance...Her look is sometimes associated with intimidation and withdrawn, distant moods but Evie...There is a temptation to paint punk as striking, aggressive and abstract using energetic brush strokes and fluid movements to mirror the spontaneity of the subject matter. However, for this piece I wanted to highlight the soft subtlety of punk acceptance and empathy whilst still showing signs of rough resilience.” This artwork really inspired me as I felt it reminded me that punk culture doesn't always have to be black, white, or red tones, that with my zine I can show colour and really prove how accepting punk culture is, and that the relationships you make with people in the scene are really precious.

Punk clothing

Next I wanted to show some acid wash jeans and Doc Martens, which was a part of not only punk but also skinhead fashion, where both of these styles quite commonly get mixed up or compared to each other. Especially for Doc Martens I found some information on how they got big in these cultures on Journey.com ‘While Dr. Martens were initially popular with England's working class, they started to get picked up by Britain's skinheads. Dr. Martens suddenly became the favorite fashion of choice for followers of the underground punk music scene. Thanks to the British bands that were popular in the 60s, Dr. Martens were pushed to the forefront of the fashion industry. Pete Townshend of the band the Who was one of the first celebrities to wear Dr. Martens! Other musicians such as Sid Vicious of the Sex Pistols.’

I also wanted to talk about leather jackets and the badges that a lot of people in the scene put on them. I then started to research the history of patches throughout the community and let there was a lot to look into. I found an article by Ira Solomantina for Sleek magazine, ‘As writer Andrew Gallix puts it, “The evolution of punk fashion was the doomed quest for authenticity” – hence why their bold DIY-aesthetic opposed to all things conventional. Punks would festoon themselves with condoms and toilet chains, wear garbage bags as tunics, spray paint on their T-shirts, tear their jeans, pierce themselves with safety pins and stitch patches to their sleeves. Each patch had a symbolic meaning and emblematically declared belonging to the punk subculture. It seems only natural that the punk movement, with its fascination for decadence, embraced something as marginal as the patch.’ This taught me that Punks really embraced the badge and saw it as another way to show that they believed in and the community that they stood for.

Lastly I also wanted to include how they did their hair and makeup because its just as important as the clothing you wear. Mohawks and spiky hair were always a big part, of the culture and I found this in a lot of the photography from the 70′s, and I definitely saw this in Derek Ridgers photography.

On top of this all the makeup I saw also seemed similar with either very bright eyeshadow, or thick black eyeliner. One of the key people who did this was Jordan Mooney, a key figure in the punk movement who worked at Vivienne Westwoods SEX store.

I enjoyed this research for the mood board a lot as I felt like it was really important information for me to know for my zine. As I wanted my zine pages to be punk inspired and be able to showcase my friends who make the art and wear the clothes, that have always been so integral to the movement.

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bartxnhood · 2 years

Text

my girl. | p.p

not my gif

| andrew!peter x fem!reader

warnings: none ? , fluff :)

summary: you and peter have been best friends since high school and you both major in different subjects. it wasn’t until new years you told him how you felt.

authors note: uh i’m considering making this a two parter. as someone who is an art student i thought this would be nice. let me know if you guys would like a part two :) also apologies for these recent fics being a fem reader ! i promise i have more gender neutral content soon. i’m so sorry. please feel free to request anything ! and happy new year !! stay safe everyone and i hope this new year treats you well <3

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

you and peter had been friends since elementary school, the two of you were always together. if you go do something, he was there. he did something, you were there. you guys were rarely apart. by high school, you had a place you guys would hang out every night; the skate park. you loved watching him skate, totally not because you had a massive crush on him since middle school.

no. no way.

okay, maybe. you only started hanging out with him at the skate park because you changed schools once you got to high school. with peter in science school, and you in art school you rarely saw him. so when you did, you cherished every moment you had with him. plus, you applied to your dream college and you’d be leaving in a few months. you hadn’t told him yet.

though, you didn’t skate you still enjoyed being there. you usually sketched while peter skated. you had never shown him your sketches though. sure, he’s seen your work but you’ve never shown him the pieces you do of him. any time he would ask you about it you’d just shrug it off.

until that day.

“you always carry that with you” his voice scared you since you didn’t know he was approaching you. “jesus christ, peter” you huffed, slamming your sketchbook closed and looking up at him. “a warning next time” he laughed. god, he’s so cute.

“can i see?” reaching for the black book, you quickly pushed his hands away. “no, they aren’t very good.” peter raised his eyebrows, “you expect me to believe that? you’re an incredible artist.” he took your hand in his.

curse you peter parker.

you felt your heart skip a beat. play it cool y/n. play it cool. you smiled at him, “maybe another day, yeah?” he pouted holding your hand tighter, “oh, cmon y/n. i deserve to see them” you only laughed, looking away hoping he wouldn’t see the red hue forming on your cheeks but you shook your head. “it’s getting late, parker. we should head back” you said, pulling your hand from his grasp to grab your coat. he smiled, he knew how to get you flustered so easily. he could simply look at you and you’d be a mess. especially when it comes to your art.

he walked you home almost every day, he loved doing it. after you switched schools he missed you so much. the way you got so happy when figuring something out you had been struggling with. the light in your eyes when you looked at him. you were everything to him. he had been like this since he was a kid. he loved watching you work on painting pieces, you made it look so effortless. you found beauty in the simplest things. he couldn’t fathom how much he loved you. when he had sleepless nights, all he wanted to do was swing to your apartment and see you. well, maybe not swing. he still hadn’t told you about his whole spider-man gig.

when you had made it to your apartment, shared with your mom he stood at the door while you opened it and walked in. “thanks for walking me home, peter” you smiled, he shrugged. “it’s no problem” before you could close the door your mom peaked around the corner.

“honey, is that peter?”

“yeah, mom” you answered

“tell him he can stay for dinner”

you turned to peter again, you stepped out of the way letting your friend in. as he walked away, you closed the door taking in a deep breath and putting a hand over your chest trying to calm your nerves. he had made his way to your bedroom where the two of you would typically hang out. truthfully, with your feelings for parker growing every day it was overwhelming.

you walked over to him, following him as he entered. both of you take your bags off and drop them on the floor. you sat the sketchbook on your wooden desk and took a seat on your bed, while peter sat on your office chair.

your attention moved to your phone while peter did whatever. this was normal. just being in each other’s presence, you didn’t have to talk you just enjoyed being around him. when he noticed your distraction he let curiosity get the best of him. he flipped through the pages of the sketchbook you had been hiding from him. when he saw that the sketches were all of him, his heart started pounding. you had pictured him so perfectly, from his eyes to his lips. you had studied him perfectly.

“y/n..” he breathed, you looked up from your phone and saw that he was in your sketchbook and you ran to grab the book out of his hands. “peter, i told you..” you quickly closed the book as peter started laughing. “don’t laugh! it isn’t funny..” you hid your face in your hands, but peter grabbed them as she stood up. “y/n, those sketches are amazing.. why would you hide them?”

“because, i didn’t want you thinking they were creepy, pete. i had nothing else to do at the park so i just..sketched whatever i saw. and..that was you” he shook his head, “no, no, no. i’m honored that you would even think to draw me.” he assured you, “what you do is incredible, don’t ever be ashamed” you couldn’t look at him, the embarrassment was too much. even if he said otherwise you hadn’t planned on him seeing them.

he brought his hand to your face, making you look at him. “it’s okay, really. i’m not mad at you” he smiled. oh my god, oh my god. you simply nodded, “okay..” you sighed.

“y/n! peter! dinner!” your mother called.

talk about being saved by the bell.

—

after peter had gone home, you stood in the kitchen with your mom helping her clean up. “have you told peter about school?” she was too busy on the dishes to notice your body language chance. “no...i haven’t got the courage..i love him, mom. i don’t want to hurt him.” your mom quickly quit what she was doing, grabbing a towel and drying her hands, and walking over to you.

“you know what you want right?” you nodded, “yes mom, but i-“ “what do you want?” you stared at her, thinking about it for a few seconds. “peter” she smiled at you, placing a kiss on your head. “talk with him, tomorrow at the ball drop”.

right, the ball drop!

you smiled, “thank you mom. i love you!” you laughed and headed to your room. you fell on your bed and sent a quick message to peter.

parker. ball drop, tomorrow. same time as always?

every year since high school, for the new year he would talk you to the ball. it started becoming a tradition it was just something the two of you enjoyed. sure, it was cheesy but you had so many memories. you had never kissed him on new years, not that you minded. okay, maybe you did. you fell asleep that night with peter on your mind, hoping you could finally get the courage to tell him you loved him the next day.

when peter woke up he was greeted by a text from you, he quickly checked it with a big grin on his face.

parker. ball drop, tomorrow. same time as always?

he laughed, almost hearing your voice while reading it. god, he loved you so much. he got out of bed changing into his suit ready to tackle on the day being spider-man until he picked you up.

you had slept in a little longer that day, there wasn’t much to y had planned on doing until that night since you usually headed out around eight. just for a decent view, but usually, you’d leave the crowd before it hit too packed for some private space.

you got up, made breakfast, and turned on the tv to watch some news. every morning you were greeted with the same red and blue suit tackling the cities crime. truthfully, you admired him for that. it takes a lot for someone to step up and help the city, so you had a positive opinion of the masked man, unlike some others.

before you knew it, peter was knocking on your window ready to pick you up. it was very rare he ever came in your front door. “peter?” you hummed, opening your window and helping him inside. “oh my god, what happened to your eye?” you asked, you gently held his face. “i had an accident on my..skateboard.” it was an obvious lie but peter didn’t want to explain everything to you so suddenly.

“peter, you rarely fall. what happened?”

he shook his head, “y/n i’ll explain it later. are you ready?” you sighed, rubbing your eyes, and nodded, “yeah, let me grab my scarf” you hummed. you quickly ran out of your room getting the black scarf and wrapping it around your neck.

the night was cold, the wind freezing the both of you but it was still fun. peter never failed to make you laugh no matter what was going on. you stood with the crowd for another hour before peter finally took you to the back to talk to you.

“y/n i have to tell you something,” he said, you looked up at him, “i do too” you blurted, quickly covering your mouth with your hand. he laughed, “you go first” you brought your hand down and sighed, “i uh..i like you peter” you looked away, afraid of what he was gonna say.

“i know”

your head quickly whipped around to him, “what?” “it’s obvious. any time i look at you or touch you, you look away and blush. not saying it’s anything bad considering i like you too” he started, he was about to open his mouth before you cut him off

“you like me?” he nodded, “i do but- there’s something you should know”

“what is it?” you blinked, “i’m..kinda..spider-man” you laughed, it was all coming together now. “i knew it!” you cheered, he laughed looking at you “oh really?”

“yes, you got buff one day, you’ve been ditching me sometimes and it’s all adding up with your wounds.” you smiled, he rolled his eyes. “yeah, yeah. so you’re not mad..?” “of course not, parker. actually, i’m glad you trust me enough to tell me” you answered, peter reached for your hand and held it tightly. you didn’t know when was the right time to tell him about your school but you were quickly pulled from that thought when peter started talking again.

“so, does this mean you'll be my girl?” he asked with a smirk. you couldn’t think clearly, looking up at his dark brown eyes as the snow dotted your clothes. “peter..i..” you breathed, looking away. he was quick to grab your chin with his calloused hand, meeting your eyes again. “yes or no?” you saw his eyes move to your lips. you closed your eyes, gaining the courage to answer him.

“yes”

he smiled, “i’m so glad you said that” his lips quickly met with yours. the kiss was passionate, as you expected from him. you had never imagined that this is how you would be kissing your best friend. you heard the countdown in the background and quickly pulled away, “peter” you hummed, he was breathless. “what?” his voice became deeper, you looked at the ball above you, “the ball” he followed your gaze.

“5”

“4”

“3”

“2”

“1”

“happy new year!!” the crowd roared, you smiled widely and turned back to peter who was already looking at you. you grabbed his jacket pulling him closer only to kiss him. it wasn’t as passionate as the previous one but still, makes your heart flutter nonetheless. once the both of you had pulled away he smiled, “happy new year, my love”

“happy new year, peter”

it was only then, you realized you didn’t tell him about your college application.

#tasm x reader #peter parker x you #andrew garfield #peter parker #andrew garfield x reader #andrew!spiderman #andrew!peter x reader #the amazing spider man #tasm 2 #no way home #peter parker x reader

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tizzymcwizzy · 2 years

Note

hello master mctizzles!! 28 & 29 for the artists ask pleae, since i know you do a fair amount of traditional? also 10! (and if u say anything other than HELL YEAH, all caps, i will have many hype words to say at you<3333)

28. For traditional artists: what medium do you like the most?

OHHH INK DIP PENS MY BELOVED

god i miss her, i haven't done an ink peice in so long this is making me yearn

for those of you who are new, i used to primarily use a dip pen and watercolors for my art, you can see a general look at all the materials in this old drawing i did for class

the bottle is way fancier than need be, but i like it so i use it lmao (the ink is winsor & newton india ink and the pens are just the general dip pens you can get at michaels or hobby lobby) the water colors where the masters touch fine art studio watercolor set with 24 colors, they're the pan kind.

also i just generally like using pencil, ik very basic, but nothing will ever beat the feel of using a 6B pencil on drawing paper, immaculate 🤌

29. For traditional artists: How do you usually start on a big piece?

I usually start with a thumbnail in my sketchbook or on a scrap piece of paper to get a general sense of the composition, and do some bigger sketches if i want to map out specific poses that might be difficult later

then I do a light sketch with as much detail as i can on a taped down peice of watercolor paper, then i ink it, erase the sketch, clean up some of the lineart with a white gel pen (sometimes white paint if I bungle it enough) and then go in with watercolor, going from dark to light, then shading over everything after the first layer is dry.

(I KNOW I KNOW, ur supposed to go from lights to darks in watercolor, and I do if I'm doing like a painting, but it's much easier for me to fill in all of chat's black and marinette's hair before i go back in to work on the grey's, and by that point im using less and less pigment the more I paint, as my little puddle of black gets smaller and smaller in my palette.)

I took a lot of process photos when i did traditional but i haven't done it in a while so these are a tad old,,

some examples of thumbnails,,

some examples of sketches

and then some lineart photos

(i usually take photos of just the lineart when im scared to start the watercolor, so theres not a lot of them)

10. Are you confident about your art?

aaahha... eh.... i answered this ask in another post, so you'll have to go there to read it,, love you maryssa, hdhdhdhf 💙

thanks for the ask!! these questions are from the artist ask game, send me some and I'll do my best to answer them!

#also speaking of pencils i tend to use either .5 mechanical ones or 4B to 6B wooden pencils #i just like the feel of softer pencils :))#ask #that sure is a lot of photos djdhhf sorry for the long ass post #tizzy talks #artist ask game

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eternally-writing · 3 years

Text

helping hands | jjk

genre: fluff and angst

rating: G (no swearing or sexual content)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: parent!au, idol!au, husband!au, one-shot

word count: 3k

warnings: none

synopsis: Parenting in general? Hard. Parenting while your husband Jungkook is away on tour? Extra hard.

special thank you to @justasparkwritings for beta reading this and @moccahobi for helping me with the title!

banner by me!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

It had been 2 weeks since Jungkook had left on tour. You would think that after being in the industry for 10 years he would have a little more leniency with his schedule, but even after the birth of your little girl, Jungkook couldn’t seem to get out of a 3 week tour around Japan and Korea.

It seemed like the Earth was weeping with you today as the rain battered against your window while you made what seemed like your 15th cup of coffee for the day. Your daughter Gidae was for once not crying - and you were eternally grateful since it gave you time to change out of your puke-covered shirt and close your eyes for 5 seconds... as if that was any replacement for the lack of sleep you’ve encountered.

All your friends whose husbands were busy idols or businessmen gave you the advice that “everything falls into place over time when you’re parenting on your own”. That it just magically happened. You’re not sure what memo you missed, or if there’s some book you forgot to read, or if worst of all, you lacked some parental intuition that everyone else possessed. Jungkook had left 13 days ago, and nothing had fallen into place.

Between Gidae being up all night every night, the pile of puke covered laundry sitting in a pile in the corner of your room, the dirty dishes in the sink that had accumulated to the point that you were eating your microwave meals with plastic cutlery, you definitely felt like a failure.

And probably the worst part of it all was that Jungkook wasn’t here to help you. This wasn’t the first time Jungkook left on tour while you two have been together, but it was the first time he had left you since Gidae had been born. The first time he had left you, a first time mother, alone with your child for an extended period of time. The first time you needed help and couldn’t ask him for it.

As if on command, while you were bracing yourself on the counter in exhaustion, your phone began to ring.

Incoming call: hubby kook ♡

As you pressed “accept call”, you could immediately heard the hustle and bustle of the backstage crowd. Too tired to be the first to say hello, you waited to see how long it would take for him to realize you were on the other line.

“Hey Y/N, just checking in before the show! How are things?” cheered Jungkook.

You could imagine what Jungkook looked like as he talked to you: already dressed in his first stage outfit, a makeup artist blotting away at the nervous sweat on his forehead, him grinning ear to ear with his hyungs and bursting with excitement for performing.

On a normal day, if you had maybe actually gotten some sleep or eaten at least one meal that didn’t come out of your freezer in the past week, you probably could have mustered a convincing “good! How’s the show going?” But you were on your last straw, and it was already giving way.

“Bad Jungkook. It’s bad. I haven’t slept at all for as long as I can remember. I have no clean clothes or clean dishes, I haven’t showered since you left so I smell like a pungent mixture of puke, sweat, and god knows what else, and Gidae misses you and won’t stop crying.So yes, it’s horrible without you here.”

You knew that wasn’t what Jungkook expected to hear,the sharp intake of breath on his side serving as a telltale sign you had caught him off guard.

“Baby I-, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

You couldn’t stop your voice from cracking as you continued. Your chest was tightening, feelings bubbling over.

“It’s -“ you paused to take a breath. “It’s really hard without you Jungkook. Really really hard.”

Jungkook tried his best to piece together the words over the phone, but you could already hear the speakers in the background calling for Jungkook to head to his position for the start of the show.

“Y/N I-“

“You have to go Jungkook, I know. Bye.”

You didn’t give him a second to recuperate as you ended the call.

No parenting book ever provided you with advice on this. The loneliness, helplessness, and frustration you were feeling right now. Crumpling down to the kitchen floor, you felt like the world was collapsing around you as you sobbed.

As if on cue, Gidae’s cries joined yours from the other room.

--♡--

You woke up slouched in a rocking chair in the nursery, with your hand reaching down to touch your daughter’s in her crib. She seemed to show you some leniency by sleeping more than 2 hours at a time, but unsure of how much free time she’d give you, you figured you might as well get a head start of the day since you felt like you were miserably falling behind already.

While mixing some formula in your kitchen, you heard a knock on your front door. The only people who ever came over were the boys and a couple of your friends, and you definitely weren’t expecting any visitors at 8am.

Frying pan clutched in your hand (safety first, right?), you creaked open your door to see a small woman standing in front of you.

With a cheery smile painting her face, the lady began to speak.

“Mrs. Jeon, I’m Seokjin-ssi’s nanny. I’ve been sent here today to take care of Gidae. Here’s a note from Mr. Jeon.”

You couldn’t help the smile that decorated your face after reading it. After so many years together, Jungkook still managed to surprise you. Taking in that there was now a woman in your house who was basically Supernanny here to help you, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

When Jungkook said that you were going to be pampered today, he sure meant it. By a “car” being outside, he actually meant a glorious Porsche with a driver and all your favorite snacks tucked in the backseat. He had booked an entire spa day just for you to get whatever treatments you needed without having to deal with the hustle and bustle of anyone else being around. Simply being in an environment that didn’t always sound like crying and children’s TV shows felt like heaven. A schedule had been waiting when you arrived, including a built in “nap” (multiple hours is just sleep, right?) in one of their private suits and lunch with none other than your best friend. It was the best surprise, and the girl talk you shared was exactly what you needed. Of course the mom guilt crept in, but whenever it did you reminded yourself of Jungkook’s words - you needed this, and only once you take care of yourself will you really be able to take care of your daughter.

You weren’t sure if it was because of the hydrating face mask or the 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep that you were able to get, but you walked into your house with a new pep in your step thanks to the relaxing day that Jungkook planned for you.

Welcomed by Ms. Yeong wearing an apron and bustling around your kitchen, you smelled freshly baked cookies (chocolate chip, your favorite too) and were thrilled at the sight of a clean house in front of you.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she began to speak with that signature smile.

“I’ve cooked dinner for you tonight and also have meals for the next 3 days in the fridge. The dishes are all done and your laundry should all be folded in your drawers. Gidae just had some milk and is now watching some Cocomelon.She woke up from her nap around 3 hours ago.”

In your excitement you couldn’t help giving her the biggest hug, squeezing her tightly. Slowly, Ms.Yeong began to pat your back, unclear about whether this hug was really for you or for her.

“I’m just doing my job Mrs. Jeon.”

You pulled away to look sincerely into her eyes.

“You are seriously a lifesaver Ms.Yeong, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

After patting your back again, it was her turn to be sincere.

“You’re a good mother, Mrs. Jeon. I know it may not feel like it sometimes, but you really are. Gidae is lucky to have you as a mom.”

Tears began to prick at your eyes, but unlike yesterday, these were happy tears. With all the failures that you had felt in the past two weeks, it meant everything to hear those words from someone, to get some confirmation that you weren’t completely messing things up.

Unable to make any words come out of your mouth, all you could do was nod in appreciation at what she was able to do for you today. Your eyes glimmering with unshed tears said all the words that Ms.Yeong needed to hear.

As she walked out the door, you made a mental note to message Seokjin and thank him for finding the angel on Earth who saved you today.

--♡--

Picking up your daughter from her crib, you cooed and brought her to you. Settling into your rocking chair, you cradled her gently in her arms.

“Mommy missed you today, babygirl, and I know you miss daddy.”

At the mention of the word “daddy” you could see your daughter perk up, looking around and trying to find said male.

All you could do is kiss her forehead. “I miss your daddy too. He’s really amazing, yknow.”

“Amazing, really? I may have said handsome, or sexy, or...”

Your head whipped around to the source of the sound.

And there he was, in the flesh. Jeon Jungkook, the man you had been waiting to see for days on end, was standing right at the door.

“Hi my love,” he said with his silly grin.

Your heart felt like it was bursting as you saw him there, and you couldn’t help but start sobbing your heart out (and I mean ugly sobbing). You felt a waterfall of emotions seeing Jungkook so close.

“Hey hey hey, what’s with this crying? I came home because I didn’t want you to be crying anymore baby.”

Walking over to you, he crouched in front of your chair and started to wipe your tears. Cupping your face in his hands, he pressed his forehead against you.

“I missed you Y/N. I missed you so much.”

You were still reeling from Jungkook’s presence.

“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed about this Kook. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Jungkook pressed a short kiss on your lips.

“Well believe it, I’m here for real babe,” he said sentimentally as he peppered your face with kisses.

Picking your daughter out of your grasp, Jungkook lifted Gidae into his hold, lifting her slightly into the air first to make her giggle. Putting on his best stern dad voice, he began his lecture.

“And you little miss, what is this I hear about you causing trouble for your mom?” Questioned Jungkook.

You smiled through your tears as you watched Jungkook go into “dad mode”.

“Before I left you promised you’d be a good girl, but I think good girls don’t cry all through the night and they definitely don’t make a mess with their toys or throw up all over their mommy.”

As Jungkook raised an eyebrow, your daughter looked at him, slightly apologetic, eyes shifting down to the floor, as if she could understand a word of what he said.

“But most of all Gidae, I missed you a whole lot. Your daddy missed you a whole lot.”

You felt like your heart could burst at the way Jungkook looked at your daughter. Even though he might be miles away when he works, you know that he doesn’t love you or your daughter any less.

“I’ll let you put her back to bed, daddy. It is my day off after all, right?” You joked with a chuckle.

Picking up your hand and kissing your palm, Jungkook grinned in agreement.

“Of course my love, go wash up and I’ll see you in bed.”

--♡--

After reading A Very Hungry Caterpillar, The Princess & the Pea, and Rainbow Fish, Gidae was beginning to yawn in Jungkook’s arms. It seemed that it wasn’t just Jungkook who was reluctant to let their father-daughter time come to an end, as Gidae was still fighting to keep her eyes open, and always kept one tiny fist clutched onto the middle of Jungkook’s shirt, as if she was worried he could disappear at any moment.

Wondering what was taking them so long, you peeked your head back in the doorway to watch Jungkook look at your daughter like she was the one who put the stars in the sky. Not wanting to interrupt, you stayed as silent as possible as you watched them together.

“Now I’m gonna say something very important Gidae, and you need to listen very very carefully to me.”

Bringing her up to eye level, Jungkook looked at your daughter sincerely as he continued.

“Sometimes daddy isn’t here and it’s just you and mommy, but I want you to know that daddy loves you and mommy so much, and you’re always gonna be daddy’s little girl, even if I’m not here with you. And I miss you always, so so much. Daddy loves you.”

You could see the tears start to stream down Jungkook’s face, and as much as you wanted to run to him and wipe his tears, just as he did hours earlier, you knew that this moment wasn’t for you. This was for Jungkook and Gidae, and you were sure that he was going to remember this forever.

“You know what would make me so happy Gidae? If you could say the word daddy. Come on - “da” “da”. You can do it!”

He started to bounce her on his lap, exaggerating his mouth movements so much that you were worried that he would accidentally pop his jaw out. His ministrations continued on fruitlessly, with Gidae still staring at him with big doe eyes (a trait she inherited from Jungkook, of course).

Unable to hide your presence any longer, you had to help Jungkook out. “You were only gone for 2 weeks, Kook. She’s still only 6 months old, it’s going to be a little while before she says any words.”

Jungkook shook his head in disbelief. It seemed that Gidae had finally succumbed to sleep in his arms, and he stared down at her again.

“Look at how big she is Y/N, she’s grown so much just in the little while I’ve been gone.”

He looked at you with tears shimmering in his doe eyes yet again.

“Seriously, next time I leave on a tour and come back she’s going to be walking and talking or something.” joked Jungkook as he lightly wiped his tears.

You hugged Jungkook from behind, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before resting your head on it.

“Wherever you are though babe, I’m gonna take photos and videos of all of it so you won’t miss a second of it.”

Jungkook stayed silent as he simply enjoyed having his small family together again.

“You were right earlier you know, on the phone.”

“Hmm?” You hummed in response, unsure of what he was getting at.

“This isn’t working - me leaving isn’t working. I’m not 15 years old anymore, when I could just drop everything and travel the world; I have the two most precious girls in the world with me now, and I need to take care of them.”

Putting his hand in yours, you sincerely looked him in the eye.

“We’re always going to be proud of you Koo, and you know I love watching you do what you love. This may be the hard part, once she gets a little older we could start travelling with you or you could fly back too. Whatever comes our way, we’ll handle it together.”

Jungkook kissed you passionately, hoping his lips could convey what he couldn’t seem to put into words. He repeated your words back to you.

“Whatever comes our way, we’ll handle it together.”

As if Mother Nature was on your side, the rain stopped, leaving the smell of new beginnings wafting in through your window.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you liked what you read please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡ - Emily

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