#ive seen another one of these with a different painting but this painting was so perfect for these lyrics
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summer interior, edward hopper // girls against god, florence + the machine
[ID: An oil painting of a woman resting on the floor beside a bed with sunlight streaming in through a window beside her. The painting is in shades of pale yellow, green, blue, orange, and dark red. The lyrics “When I decided to wage holy war, / it looked very much / like staring at my bedroom floor” have been placed on top in white in all caps. The first part of the lyrics are curved around the end of the bed and the second part of the lyrics are angled along where the wall and floor meet. /end ID.] ID by @britomart
#ive seen another one of these with a different painting but this painting was so perfect for these lyrics#florence + the machine#florence and the machine#edward hopper#lyrics edit#dance fever#girls against god#web weaving#text#girl help i cannot stop putting lyrics onto images
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wipzzz of a larger series I was gonna do, featuring my own take on Karna alter (utilizing, yes, the rejected rider design, but there was going to be More going on than just that)
however, for reasons, I'm shelving this project. for now, anyways!! maybe I'll come back to this?
#fgo#fate grand order#fate karna#karna fate#for some explanation- theres apparently another project also utilizing him again w the rejected rider design and i dont need to be seen as#cribbing off that project. i mean this is based off of 'duryodhana wishing for 'a karna that could win the war' on the grail' so i imagine#the base is very different. but still.#another reason is that while i was working on this there was some weird shit going on in the tags#didnt rly pay attention to it but it's like. okiii#not pictured: him w dury bc it's also rougher n the formatting wont like only one more pic getting added#you can tell i was trying to figure out how i wanted to paint his face. ive figured it out but it's not reflected here LMAO
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the Painted Devils reading experience is going to go one of two ways for me.
Either
I'm gonna read the whole thing over the course of one night and wake up with the biggest book hangover known to man (headache, v*miting, crying all included)
or
2. It's going to take me like three months to finish it because every sentence is going to make me put the book down and scream into my pillow and/or pace around my room for several hours before continuing
#but most likely I'll split the difference and just have the worst three days of my life lmao#the worst part is itll just be sitting there waiting for me like as soon as I drive back home from college for the summer#so i can just trade in one stress for another#although im pretty sure this books gonna make me wish for finals week stress#i cant wait#i BARELY know whats gonna happen in this book ive avoided every single bit of promotional material#just every non-spoilery review ive seen is just: this book destroyed my entire being. 5 stars#as expected#little thieves#painted devils#ya fantasy
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— UNCHARTED WATERS
pairings: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader, percy jackson x sister!reader
summary: four months of keeping percy in the dark were over, you could only hope he’d understand your reasoning for keeping him there. or the one where percy finds a polaroid of luke and a girl eerily similar to his sister, donning not a lot of clothing.
warnings: suggestive content/photos, poor percy’s eyes, arguing, confrontation, makeups, hugs & motherly reader, protective percy
a/n: the end has come 😭 i’ve absolutely adored writing this series and i’m glad it’s here sad it’s here and sad it’s over.
taglist: @songofthesun @gayforyelena @taloulalila @honeydanny @7s3ven @sssi-nr @percabethtears @gr1mes-cc @2hiigh2cry @10ava01 @ahh-chickens @fangirl-swagg @anotherblackreader @midmourn @lovelyforesst @urfavpogue @lilacspider @mysteris-things @whoreyzontal @lunalixya @dangelnleif @wordsarelife
part i, part ii, part iii, part iv
iv. uncharted waters
luke’s mouth was currently held hostage by your hand, tightly clamped over his as you waited for the kids to pass by. you were currently hidden behind large rocks in the pond, and half-naked. “if you lick my hand i swear i will drag you under the water, and you know i can.” you whispered to him. luke’s amusement was no where near yours, you could tell by the fact that he jabbed your side which caused you to shout.
the two campers turned at the sound of distress, eyes frantically scanning the area, before turning around and continuing their way back to camp. “that was close.” luke grinned whilst you hit him, “that was all your fault! now come on, before the sun sets.”
“why, is my girl scared of the dark? don’t worry i’m right here baby.”
“am not!”
“are too!”
“am not!”
“are too!”
“you’re so annoying luke.” the two of you made your way into the cold, clear waters. the day had been pretty busy and the idea of swimming before showering all the paint and grime was nothing but appealing to you. but your peace would only last so long around your boyfriend.
“what’s that shark movie y/n? and what does the music sound like?”
“jaws? and the sounds like, dun-a, dun-a.”
you should’ve seen it coming. luke repeated the sound, as you closed your eyes and faced the sun, he waded through the water before you looked his way. he was gone.
“luke? luke where did you—,”
you screamed as luke came up from below you, tipping you face first. “what the hell!” as much as you loved to hear luke laughing all you wanted to do was drown him. “it’s one thing to mess with me above ground, but in the water?” luke’s grin was wiped off as a wave came from behind. “wait hold on—,”
it was officially your turn to laugh as luke resurfaced, gasping for air. “not cool.” you covered your smile with both hands, “kinda cool.” you murmured as he made his way to you, hands around your waist as you looked up at him. “you think that was funny?” you meekly nodded as his hand tightened, another wrapped around your neck to draw you in.
the night was fast approaching and the two of you were currently laying on the shoreline. “i knew i brought this for something.” he whipped out the camera, “you look perfect as usual, would you do me the honour of modelling for me?” you grinned, “of course.”
luke wouldn’t stop staring at the picture, the whole way back to camp. so instead of allowing him to ogle the photo the whole night you tucked it into your jean shorts. claiming the decision to be for the greater good.
if there was one difference between you and percy, it was tidiness. he wasn’t terrible but he wasn’t as obsessive as you. so imagine his surprise when you passed out, towel, shorts and swimwear laid around. “kids these days, i tell you.” percy muttered as he picked up the clothes to be washed the next day. but as he did, a certain polaroid fluttered to the floor.
“what the?” he turned it over, and then had a heartattack.
“WHAT THE F—,”
“ow! why on earth are you shouting? and no swearing.” you groaned out loud. percy stomped his way over to you then waved the picture in your face, “what on earth is this? huh?” you snatched the picture from his hand before sitting on it, “nothing, what’re you talking about?”
percy clutched his head, before dramatically flopping down on his bed, “i think my eyes need to be rinsed.” you rolled your eyes, “stop being so silly, it’s a cute photo. just not a lot of clothes.” percy quiickly sat up, “exactly! and some guys hand tucking your hair behind your ear. i didn’t even know you were dating someone y/n, let alone taking weird photos.”
you’d been caught out, it was bound to happen sooner or later so you might as well tell him. your feet hit the floor before moving over to him, “i’m sorry i didn’t tell your perce, really. i just— i didn’t want to freak you out. i wanted you to continue getting adjusted to camp and all before i told you anything about it. it happened recently, and i didn’t mean for it to but feelings… are the one thing you can’t control. i’m sorry, i really am. and i’m so grateful i have such an amazing little brother who feels like he needs to protect me but you are my little brother. i’m eighteen, and more than capable of making my own decisions.”
percy didn’t want to understand what you were saying. he wanted to go find this guy and let riptide work it’s magic. but annoyingly enough, everything you said did make sense. “fine, i won’t go maiming tonight. i’m still mad you kept it from me, don’t you trust me?” your eyes teared up at the notion, “oh god no! i mean, yes, yes i do. i trust you with every bone in my body and that’s why i knew you’d try and hurt the poor guy. you’re so incredibly strong that you’d send him packing perce.”
percy’s lips twitched, a grin forming, “i am pretty amazing arent i?” you wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “that you are brother, that you are.” he hugged you so hard that it knocked you both back onto the bed.
“i guess i won’t hunt him down today.”
“thank you percy.”
“there’s always tomorrow.” he muttered.
“no perce!” he smiled up at you before wiggling out of your arms, “who is it huh?” you covered your face before sighing, “luke.” percy’s shoulders dropped, “stuff tomorrow.” he charged out the door as you ran after him, “no wait!” coincidentally the two of you rammed right into luke, “i heard shouting, i was concerned. are you okay y/n?” you smiled as he percy huffed, “no yeah, forget about the 12 year old you pummelled over viciously. continue focusing on my sister please.”
“he knows, i told him.” luke’s eyebrows raised, the reasoning behind percy’s jabs and stare revealing itself.
“oh.”
“you’ve got ten seconds castellan.”
“for what?”
“to run.”
“what did i do?”
“that photo didn’t take itself.” percy pulled out riptide, tapping it against his other hand as you stood behind him, watching luke laugh. “he’s, he’s kidding right?” you shook your head, “he’s giving you a head start castellan, i’d advise you to take it.” luke’s smile dropped as he began to step back, “i… you’re kidding.”
“ten, nine, eight—,”
luke’s shoes collided with the floor as percy shrugged, “countings for losers.” you reached out for him but it was too late, “cheater!” luke kept looking back as you sat down infront of the cabin, you officially had two idiots to look after.
#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson x fem!reader#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson fic#percy jackson x reader#percy jackon and the olympians
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I’m still deep in baby fever so maybe baby clothes shopping with Ellie or Abby! You can choose! And you end up buying tons of cute animal onesies hehe
ive been thinking about writing abby and reader with a baby but i haven’t written anything yet :( thank u for this !! such a cute idea <3
you’re in the passenger seat of abby’s jeep heading to a nearby mall, with the main mission to go baby clothes shopping and basque in the calm before the storm of a newborn baby disrupting your peace. the drive is calm and quiet, abby hand gently resting on your growing baby bump and her fingers softly caressing your swollen tummy.
you eventually get to the store, walking through the doors hand in hand with abby. the store is brightly lit, walls are painted in pale, neutral colors with fluffy cloud-shaped light fixtures hanging from the ceiling.
the entire place is filled with all types of clothes and the cutest accessories from dresses to onesies, tiny denim jeans and the smallest pairs of shoes you’ve ever seen.
abby never once lets go of your hand as she leads you through the aisles, picking out all the outfits that she thinks would look cute on your little bundle of joy. and it doesn't take long before the shopping cart is filled the the brim with every item imaginable.
you eventually wander off alone down one of the aisles and abby can’t even start to worry about you before she hears you gasping from nearby and calling out her name.
her head snaps up at the sound of your voice and she comes around the corner into the aisle you’re in. she sighs as she sees you holding up yet another ridiculous looking bear onesie. the tiny ears sticking out of the hood and the smallest little mittens attached to the arms of the onesie.
your looking down at the item in awe, imagining your perfect little baby all bundled up in your arms clad in the soft, fuzzy material. you look up at abby and pout, “abs, please. we have to get this! baby will look so cute in this!” you whine and shove the onesie into her big hands.
“babe, we have so much stuff already!” abby huffs and gestures to the overflowing shopping cart she’s been pushing around for the last half hour. you look at her sadly and give her the best doe eyes you can muster up, “one tiny onesie isn’t gonna make a difference.”
her shoulders drop in defeat and she pushes the cart towards you and you happily throw the onesie onto the pile of baby clothes before leaning up and placing a kiss on her cheek. you turn on your heel and waddle off towards the checkout desk with abby following behind, sighing and rolling her eyes at your antics.
#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆.ೃ࿔myfics⌨️#abby x fem!reader#abby anderson x fem reader#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x reader#abby the last of us#abby tlou#tlou abby#abby x you#abby x reader#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x you#abby anderson
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Question...how do you make your patches? They seem so fuckin cool. I'm working on a vest and a jacket atm, and I'd like for them to be done by the time a pride fest rolls around next month.
Main technique I use for making patches nowadays is linocut. Its best suited for mass production of patches.
Make sure to remember your carving the mirror image so you have to flip all the text. Using tracing paper to flip the design is a good trick, as well as leaving graphite marks on side, then pressing that to the lino to leave the marks in the same spot. Another trick with pencil is to view what ur carving in negative space quickly, put a paper over your design and shade over it with pencil, darker marks will be where you haven't carved yet.
I use speedball fabric ink, it takes 1 week to set then will be fine to be washed. I have magenta, violet, turqouise, and white. They have a limited range of fabric colors at the store. I have seen gold and silver fabric paint for sale and I will investigate it one day.
I use a speedball roller, i find the smaller one to be better than the big one as I can be more precise and waste less ink.
I got a fancy handle for $40 but the screws fallen out so its broken now so just get some heavy books. I used to use a mug. Whats important is pushing your whole body weight into it.
I got a speedball carving tool with different heads I can swap out so I can cut into the lino at different deepness and widths. The heads are stored inside the tool since its hollow and has a screwable removable bottom. I use linocut or dollar store erasers for my carvings. Make sure to wash the ink off your linocuts after your done using them.
A thing to increase the lifespan of you're linocuts is to use wood glue, some cork or wood pieces, and glued the lino stamps onto them. I dont do that yet so my stamps fall appart from overuse sometime and because I cut way too deep into the lino since I hate chatter.
Chatter is the term for in linocutting when theres little messy lines and stuff. It makes the art more recognisably to be linocut. My work is very clean with no chatter which is why people don't notice its linocut usually. This is a stylistic choice, with diy styles having a lot of chatter can look really cool so experiment with leaving bits of extra uncarvered lino sticking out in ur stamp. I need to experiment and buy some more lino.
You can also use multiple linocut stamps together to make a patch. Some patches ive made have like 8 different stamps. Ive made a dog nonsense patch where each letter was their own eraser stamp. You can also use different colors between the different lino stamps on the same patch to add more color. An effect I like to do is first stamp it in color, then the next day I stamp it in white over the same spot but shifted to the right and down slightly. It makes the text have a cool border 3D effect I love doing.
If making a more detailed picture with colors, i reccomend hand painting patches. I use white fabric paint mixed with acrylics for color to get all the shades i need. Acrylic paint mixed with fabric softener works too.
If doing words and you dont want a unique font reccomend using letter stamps. If you want a unique font for that i recommend hand paint for individual or linocut for mass produce.
The positive of letter stamps is the font is neat and can be done quickly. I know from lending them to my roommate that they are very helpful if you have dyslexia and have trouble getting letters right.
A visual effect of the letter stamps is that have a nice boxy edge effect, its an imperfection that adds a personally touch to it. I have both lower and upper case stamps that I got from michaels. You can use a hair band or elastic to hold a bunch of letter stamps together to make a word stamp.
You can use other stamps than letters that you find at craft stores for example my racoon print is a craftstore stamp.
You can also find big plastic letter stencils at the dollar store that you can use to do lettering by filling in gaps with a sponge or or paintbrush. They make special paintbrushes just for using stencils.
You can also get plastic stencils in the shapes of things, i got some for children and use a horse stencil for my horse smoking weed patch. Easier than drawing a horse myself.
Another technique I use for more unique clean patches is gel plating. I haven't tried printing laserprint images with it as ive seen online a lot but I will try one day. What i personally do is use it to make imprints with chains and physical objects.
Another thing i use with gelplates are any stamps or linocuts that dont have words, or words ones that i fucked up with and forgot to mirror when carving. It flips mirror image twice with the gel plate so it goes back to being right again on the patch.
Another patch making technique is using foamboard cut into shapes glued onto cardboard. This is good for a quick test of a design and is very cheap to make. It will not hold under water so is more difficult to clean.
#punk#diy#patches#diy patches#patch pants#diy punk#crust punk#crust pants#battle vest#punk fashion#punk diy#punk patch#queer art#linocut patch#gel plate#linocut#stencil#my patches#patch tips#how to make patches#patch 101
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no bc im not usually involved w stuff like this and believe everyone should be held accountable for their actions no matter what. but seeing the way quackity has been seen as non human, any emotion or misstep he has being seen as manipulative or fake is like crazy. i don’t understand how people don’t see like wait, your actually just being racist you are not capable of seeing him as a person, why? it feels like he really could’ve handled this perfectly and there still would be this large crowd regarding him as a heartless fraud??
truly. i have closely observed this situation and listened to both sides and theres a lot of different opinions that can co exist and theres a lot of complexity to them.
one particular thing that has bothered me and made me uncomfortable is the projection of quackity as this scheming conniving figure. its gross. him having to explain that hes had previous experiences like this where he keeps any sort of bad situation with another creator private and that in turn has made him perceived as more manipulative is so sad. and this isnt surprising obviously since this is something ive witnessed. but overall i think with the internet nowadays theres a large mindset that everything needs to be public information and shared with the audience while they preach to solve things in the dms. people only care for a show and to watch creators destroy themselves. thats what twitter is and what a lot of people actively strive to do on that platform. specifically in regards to leak communities.
everyone should be aware enough that theyre allowed to criticize quackity and the decisions he’s made that people may not agree with. he acknowledges that himself. but to paint him as anything other then human and someone who has deeply fucked up reaches that level where it is racism. i dont think many people quite realize micro aggressions when they see them. so theres that. and then theres obviously the extremes of the situation when it came to the doxxing and death threats. people actively celebrating and saying it surely is an okay thing to spread because well he fucked up right? hypocrisy. this goes the same way for any admin or worker involved the situation that has been sent and told the same.
this entire situation has proved to me that nobody knows how to properly handle anything or how to properly react to anything and choosing instead to immediately jump to those extremes mentioned in the name of activism and moral superiority.
anyways support the admins. listen to their stories. criticize media you consume in a constructive manner. call out xenophobia and racism when you see it. and treat people like the humans they are. they will all make mistakes each side has made a mistake. yes this also applies to the people in the community. think for more than a second before you post anything for fucks sake.
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Tattooed Heart - Part IV
SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.
PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry
TROPES: Enemies to Lovers
MUST BE 18+ TO READ
WORD COUNT: 7k+
STORY PAGE
“Ugh, look at him,” groaned Jill, nudging your shoulder with hers when she walked behind the counter to bring empty coffee cups from a nearby table.
You stopped mid-pour, turning to see whom she was talking about, but the only table occupied now besides Harry’s was the older woman whose coffee you were preparing.
“Who, Harry?” you asked, holding back a grin.
“No, Stan,” Jill scoffed. “Yes, of course Harry.”
“What about him?”
“He’s just so….ugh. Infuriatingly handsome.”
Your cheeks a rosy pink, you turned back to your task at hand. After only one date, you weren’t ready to tell your co-worker that you were interested in Harry in any way. Fortunately, you’d had the early shift that Monday morning, and Harry had arrived an hour before Jill’s shift. So she hadn’t seen your exchange when he’d walked up to the counter, a lopsided grin on his face as he’d ordered his flat white.
“I’ll get that right out to you,” you’d mimicked his smile before taking the next customer’s order.
He’d chosen his usual table by the window, opening his backpack and setting up his tablet. When you’d brought his coffee to him, he’d whispered so softly, you had to lean over to hear him.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“I still can’t stop thinking about you.” His hand had covered yours on the table, and he’d given it a quick but tender squeeze.
“Then we may have a problem.”
“Why’s that?”
Boldly, you’d leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
“Y/N!” called Jill, snapping you back to the present.
“Yeah?” you blinked. Somehow, you’d managed to finish making the older woman’s latte, and brought it to her table without even realizing. You’d had Harry brain for the last two days. And with him currently present in your cafe, minding his own business, it was a wonder you were even able to function. Especially after his previous admission.
“Come see,” your co-worker waved you over to Harry’s table. “He’s working on something new.”
Wiping your hands on a towel, you joined Jill, standing beside her to see what Harry had drawn on his tablet. As he held it up, you felt a flutter in your chest.
“Oh, that’s…” you started to say, pointing. It looked a lot like the painting you had seen at his apartment on Saturday. The one of the moon dripping. But you quickly side-stepped, not wanting to divulge your weekend whereabouts with your new friend.
“That’s really cool,” you croaked instead, clearing your throat. “I like how the drops make a heart.”
“Thanks,” muttered Harry, turning slightly to give you a smirk.
“Ugh! So talented!” Jill spun around, heading back to the counter as a customer entered.
You stood in your spot, your feet frozen to the tile as you watched Harry’s stylus pen continue its magic on the screen. Clutching your hands at your chest, you noticed the slightest differences in the current drawing and the painting from the other night. Completely mesmerized, you almost missed it when Harry’s finger beckoned you closer.
“Sorry…” you let out a breath, speaking softly as you scooted closer to his table. “I shouldn’t be staring.”
“At the drawing or me?”
You weren’t sure if it was his question or his low, raspy tone that caught you off guard, but you felt a sudden high-pitched laugh rise from your throat and escape your lips. Shaking your head, you cursed yourself for blushing. You hated sounding like a giggling schoolgirl.
“Both,” you finally admitted.
Harry’s mouth spread slowly into a sexy grin, his eyes on you. “What time should I pick you up tomorrow?”
Stealing a swift look over your shoulder, you noticed Jill was still helping the customer.
“That’s up to you. I’m free all day.”
“Yeah?” Harry raised a brow. Then folding his arms on the table, he leaned closer, licking his lips. “That opens a world of possibilities, then.”
With a laugh, you pushed your hair behind your ear. “Does it?”
“Well, that depends on what you’re into.” You felt the color rise in your cheeks again, and Harry chuckled. “I’ll think of something. How ‘bout I pick you up at noon? We’ll have lunch and go from there.”
You smiled gently. “Sounds good.”
Realizing Jill had finished with his customer, you made your way back to the counter.
“So, what were you two chatting about over there?” she asked you.
“Huh? Oh, nothing.”
“Well, he made you laugh, whatever it was.”
“It was silly,” you shook your head, waving off her comment.
“Mhm.”
“What?” you shrugged, turning toward the espresso machine. “He’s funny.”
“He’s also staring at you.”
“What?” Nearly bumping into Jill as you twirled around, your eyes caught a glimpse of Harry’s just before he returned his attention to his iPad. A sudden warmth filled your senses and you felt like you might melt.
“Well…” you heard Jill remark. “That was…something.”
You pursed your lips as you glared at her. “It was nothing.”
“I beg to differ. First he makes you laugh, then he’s staring at you?”
“Jill!”
Breaking your train of thought and protest, the cafe door swung open then and two businessmen walked in. As soon as you took their order, a young woman entered, followed by three more. The lunch crowd was starting to trickle in.
Just as you had taken the two men’s orders to them and returned to the counter, you noticed Harry had packed up his things, his rucksack slung over his shoulder. You saw him look up and meet your gaze, an easy grin on his face. Lifting his hand, he gave you a wave, and you waved back as he exited the cafe.
Soon enough, the end of your shift arrived, and Melaina, another waitress, greeted you behind the counter to take your place. You couldn’t get home soon enough, prepared to take the longest, deepest nap of all time. But as soon as your head hit the pillow, you heard your phone ping with a text.
What was with the secrecy?
Confused, you simply typed, ???
You pretended you hadn’t seen my art before. You don’t want your friend to know?
To know what?
LOL ok, I get it. I can play along.
I’m not sure I know what you mean.
That was a lie. You knew what he was getting at. You also knew you weren’t interested in telling Jill - or anyone for that matter - about you and Harry because…you weren’t sure where this was going yet. It was too soon. And with everything that had led up to the first date, you certainly didn’t want everything to unravel and get worse than how it had started.
At least you think about me. Glad to know that.
You texted back the blushing emoji since that’s exactly what you were doing. Again.
Do you work tonight?
Yeah. I’m in my office now. Just wanted to text you first.
Oh ok. I’m about to take a nap. Have a good day!
Can I ring you tonight? Might be late.
Sure, that’s fine.
Have a great nap babe. xx
After laying your phone on your bedside table, you drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face.
“Want some more popcorn?” asked Shae, holding out the bowl between you.
“No, thanks,” you shook your head.
You were getting sleepy, your eyelids weighing down as you tried to focus on the end of the movie. A buzz from your left side startled you, and as you picked up your phone, a sly grin twitched your lips.
“Hello?”
“Hey. What are you doing?”
“Just a sec.” Rising from the sofa, you addressed your roommate. “I’m gonna take this in my room.”
“Aw, but Y/N, the movie’s almost over!”
“It’s okay. Tell me how it ends.”
Shae huffed as she watched you round the couch and head for your room, shutting the door behind you.
“Sorry about that. I was watching a movie.”
“Oh. Don’t let me interrupt,” Harry insisted.
“It’s fine. I’ve seen it already.” You heard Harry chuckle low as you sat on your bed. “How was work?”
“Good,” Harry sighed. “But I’m glad it’s over so I can talk to you.”
“Wow, you’re laying it on thick already,” you teased.
“Heyyy. It’s the truth! I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
“Mhm.”
“Almost came by the cafe yesterday just to see you. But I was afraid it might be a bit much.”
“Why? You should have. I was bored out of my skull yesterday.”
“Were you the only one working?”
“Yep, until closing.”
“Then I’m a stupid twit.”
You laughed out loud, quickly covering your mouth with your hand. This guy was already making you feel…things. You weren’t sure if you were ready.
“At least we have tomorrow. We’re still on, right?”
“Yes, of course,” you replied.
“I was thinking we could have a picnic if you’re up for it. The weather’s supposed to be lovely.”
“A picnic?”
“Yeah. Too cheesy?”
“No…” you swallowed hard and laid back on your pillow. “No, not at all. I’d like that.”
“Good,” Harry said with a smile in his voice. “Can’t wait to see you, love.”
You chuckled lightly. “You just saw me this morning.”
“I know. Funny, innit?”
“If you keep this up, you might get sick of me,” you jested.
Harry’s laugh rang through the phone, and you felt your heart skip. “I sincerely doubt it.”
You bit your lip as you tried to keep your thoughts in line.
“Honestly, babe?” Harry continued. “If I’d had my way, I would have come to yours straight from work to pick you up. And you’d be here with me in this bed now instead of there on the phone.”
Your breath caught in your throat before you gasped aloud. “Harry…”
His low chuckle only fueled the fire. “See what I mean? It’s a bit insane how much my thoughts revolve around you. I’m trying to be a gentleman though.”
You swallowed. “Are you saying you regret what happened Saturday night?”
“Fuck, no. I loved it. If I think about it hard enough, I can still taste you on my tongue.”
“Oh my God, I should probably hang up now.”
“Why?” laughed Harry. “Are you blushing, babe?”
“Indubitably.”
Harry chuckled harder. “You’re cute.”
“And you’re an insatiable flirt.”
“Can’t help it, honey. I enjoy teasing you.”
“And using pet names,” you remarked.
“That’s only ‘cause I like you. But if you don’t want me to…”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No? Which one do you like best?” asked Harry.
“Hmm. I don’t have a preference. I just want it to be natural.”
“Good answer. I like that.”
You chatted for a little while longer until you noticed the time was after 1AM. It was Harry, surprisingly, who suggested you both say goodnight.
“I’ll see you at noon, Y/N. Sleep well.”
“Goodnight, Harry.”
“Sweet dreams, baby.”
You laid on your bed, atop your covers for another ten minutes or so, arms spread wide as you stared at the ceiling.
How had he managed it? In one day - not even a whole day because you’d only seen him for a couple hours at the cafe, and then talked to him on the phone for maybe another hour - Harry Styles had already turned your world topsy-turvy. You were feeling it. No, not love…that was silly. It was way too soon to have those kinds of feelings. But…feelings nonetheless. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to recall the last time you’d felt this way.
Excited. Blissful. Giddy.
Yeah, it was way too soon for this.
He was going to be there any minute. Having already gotten his text announcing he was on his way, you rushed to double check yourself in the mirror, pleased with your choice of the peasant blouse and jeans. Quickly slipping into your shoes, you nearly bumped into Shae when you opened your bedroom door.
“Oh. Hey. I thought you were working today.”
“Nope,” she said, popping her P. “I’m off. You look nice though. Where are you off to?”
“Um…nowhere.”
The sound of the doorbell made you jump. And when your roommate made a move toward the door, you wanted to scream or crawl under the table or…something. But you knew your time had run out. Stood frozen, you cringed as you watched Shae swing the door open.
“Oh! Hi…” she furrowed her brows.
“Hi…um, Shae, right?” you heard Harry mutter.
“Yeah…what…”
“I take it Y/N didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Shae’s glare shifted from Harry to you. “It’s that Harry guy.”
“Yeah, um…” you cleared your throat, opening the door wider. Your stomach flipped when your eyes met Harry’s who stared at you with a questioning gaze. “Harry and I are…on good terms now. We made amends.”
“Made amends? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s…” you sighed, looking at your friend, “it’s a long story. And it’s complicated. I probably should have told you, and I’m sorry. But I’ll tell you more about it later, okay?”
You stepped out onto the landing, giving Harry a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi, babe. You look beautiful.”
“What the hell is going on?” exclaimed Shae, her hands on her hips. “Are you seeing him now? After what he did to you?”
“Like I said, I’ll explain it all later. But to answer your question, yes.”
Her mouth agape, Shae stared at you incredulously as you waved goodbye and took Harry’s hand.
“Your roommate’s gonna hate me now,” remarked Harry when you reached his car.
“She already hates you. Because I hated you, remember? Don’t worry, once I tell her everything, she’ll adore you. She already thought you were hot. She’ll be relieved you’re not really an asshole.”
Harry cackled as he held open the door for you. “I dunno if I should be flattered or offended.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you grinned, rising on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. “I think you’re hot and a sweetheart.”
Harry beamed his dimpled smile as he rounded the car and got behind the wheel. His expression matched the gorgeous weather that he’d proclaimed was imminent. Without a cloud in the sky, you rode next to Harry in his car as he drove down familiar roads until he turned down a side street that led to the park. While it had regretfully been a while since you’d visited, you still considered it one of your favorite places. Even though there had been no way for Harry to know that, you still felt grateful.
After finding a place to park, Harry opened the back door to retrieve a tartan blanket which he handed to you, along with a large basket. Grinning, he took your hand to lead you across the grass. Stopping near a tree, he set the basket on the ground and reached for the blanket which you helped spread out on the green.
“I have to say, Harry,” you paused, biting your lip, “when you mentioned a picnic, this was immediately what I was picturing. But then I told myself I was being too literal. I truly was not expecting you to have an actual picnic basket.”
“It wouldn’t be a picnic otherwise,” he stated matter-of-factly, sitting on the blanket.
“I don’t know. You could have very easily brought something in a paper bag. Or even stopped off at McDonald’s.”
Shaking his head, Harry snorted as he reached inside the basket. “You need to give me more credit than that.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. This is just very out of the ordinary for me.”
“How so?” Harry asked as he set out what looked to be individually wrapped mini sandwiches.
“Well, I…no one’s ever…did you make these?”
Harry raised a brow. “Of course.”
“Wow. These look fancy! And delicious. What’s in them?”
“Um…salami, mozzarella, pesto, basil, spinach and tomato.”
You continued to stare at Harry as he pulled more items from the picnic basket. He had a mix of fruit, some kind of layered salad in mason jars, a small quiche, and a large carafe of water with lemon and mint. With a sense of contentment, you settled comfortably on the blanket as Harry poured the water into plastic cups. Handing you one, he smiled.
“Dig in, babe.”
Clearing your throat, you blinked. “Sorry, I…I’m overwhelmed.”
“It’s just food, darling.”
Your chest felt tight and heavy as you shook your head. “No, it’s not. It’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
Setting down your cup, you leaned over and planted a kiss on his lips. He grinned against you before reciprocating, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his lap. Your kisses continued, his soft, pillowy lips combined with his intoxicating cologne making you light-headed, until you finally broke away.
“Sorry…” you breathed.
“Don’t be,” Harry blinked slowly, his long lashes brushing softly against his cheeks. “Reckon I started off on the right foot this time. I only hope I didn’t peak too early.”
A small giggle escaped your throat as you sat back. “Well, let’s not forget, I haven’t actually eaten the food yet.”
“What will you do if it’s rubbish?” Harry laughed.
“Guess I’ll have to walk home.”
Harry continued to snicker as he playfully rolled his eyes, handing you a plate. “I guarantee you’ll at least like the fruit. And probably the sandwiches.”
Grabbing one of the mini baguettes, you unwrapped it and took a large bite. Immediately your mouth danced with glee as you took in the delectable flavors. Pleased by the reaction on your face, Harry opened one of the mason jars and spooned out the salad onto your plate. Then he cut a portion of the quiche and laid it beside the salad.
“You don’t have to feed me,” you insisted.
“What if I want to?”
“Hmm…then I guess I’ll let you.” Picking up the small pie with your fingers, you took a savory bite. “God, this is by far the best lunch I’ve ever had.”
“Glad to hear it,” Harry beamed, handing you a plastic fork for your salad and taking a bite of his own.
“Do you like to cook?”
“I do, actually. It’s one of my hobbies, you could say.”
“You’re full of surprises, Harry,” you commented before taking a sip of water. “Although, I shouldn’t be surprised. I already knew you’re a man of many talents.”
You caught the smirk on Harry’s lips as he looked down at his plate. You both ate in silence for a bit, enjoying each other’s company and the ideal weather. You gazed around you, taking in the atmosphere. You watched a couple who tossed a frisbee back and forth, and a young mother pushing her child in a stroller. When you took the last bite of your quiche, Harry surprised you again by leaning over with a strawberry between his fingers. With a grin, you popped open your mouth and allowed him to feed it to you.
When nearly all of the food had been devoured, and you helped Harry pack up the remains into the basket and discarded the trash in a nearby waste bin, you laid back on the blanket, enjoying the warm sun on your face. While it was still a rather cool day, the sunshine made it pleasant.
“Be right back,” you heard Harry announce. “Gonna get something out of the car.”
Squinting your eyes, you watched him pick up the basket and take it with him. When he returned, you noticed the notebook in his hand.
“What are you doing?” you asked, lifting yourself up on your elbows.
“No, lay back down,” he instructed, taking his seat next to you.
When he opened the notebook, he slid a pencil out from beneath the spiral and began to sketch.
“Are you drawing?” you inquired softly.
His green eyes lifting from his paper, he gave a sly grin.
“What are you- you’re not drawing me!” you exclaimed rolling onto your side.
“Stay still,” Harry chuckled. “Lay back the way you were.”
With a huff, you slowly moved to your previous position as you listened to the sound of the pencil against the paper. You silently wondered how long you had to remain still as you continued to watch Harry’s gaze shift from you to his notebook. Your breaths quickened as his eyes roamed your body, making you a bit self-conscious. Finally, you saw his lips twitch into a sexy grin, and he lowered his paper and shut the book.
“Do I get to see?”
Instead of answering, Harry laid down next to you, his shoulder brushing yours.
“Harry!”
With a snicker, Harry lifted the notebook. “Alright. But just so you know, it’s just a quick sketch. And it does not fully reflect the way I see you.”
Grimacing, you glared at him. “Is that good or bad?”
“Here,” Harry laughed, opening the book to the page he’d just sketched and handing it to you. While it was indeed a quick sketch, maybe even a bit messy by some standards, you were amazed at how much it looked like you.
“That’s…remarkable,” you commented softly, choosing the best word.
Turning your head to look at him, you noticed he was already staring at you. When he rolled over and brushed your hair from your face, you lowered the notebook to your side. He kissed you tenderly at first, so softly that your entire body felt like you were lying on a cloud, and not the blanket on the ground. Your hands traveled around to his back while he hovered over you, lifting his head slightly to look into your eyes. Though he didn’t speak, his eyes spoke volumes. The only words you really needed right then. And when his mouth met yours again, and you eagerly allowed his tongue access, you knew he’d heard your words as well.
“Hmm,” Harry hummed when he broke free, his forehead resting against yours. “Your lips drive me mad, baby. I could kiss you all day.”
With a smile, you lifted your hand to his jaw, rubbing his scruffy chin. “Same here.”
After a few more kisses, Harry sat up, running his fingers through his hair. “I had another idea for this afternoon, but do you mind if we stop at my flat first?”
“Not at all. What is your other idea?”
“If you’d like, we could visit the art gallery.”
You sat up urgently. “Where your art is? I would love that!”
“Yeah?” Satisfied with your response, Harry rose from the blanket and reached his hand out to help you up. Then lightly brushing the back of his hand against your cheek, he looked like he was about to say something, but his words escaped him. You didn’t mind, however. When you helped him fold up the blanket and walked with him to the car, you had a feeling the day was going to be filled with unspoken words - gestures of mutual feelings.
After putting away the rest of the food and freshening up in Harry’s bathroom, you were excited to go see his art on display at the gallery.
“Harry! So good to see you!” greeted a man in a suit.
“You as well, Sherod,” said Harry, shaking the man’s hand. “How are things?”
“Can’t complain, can’t complain,” Sherod nodded emphatically. “We are still waiting patiently on your newest project, yes?”
“Yeah, I’m still…tweaking it.”
“Ah, don’t tweak too much, Harry. You know the best art is always what comes naturally, from the heart.” As Harry shrugged, you noticed Sherod making eye contact with you. “And who is this delicate creature?”
“Sherod, this beautiful lady is Y/N. I’ve come to show her around.”
Color rose in your cheeks at both Sherod’s and Harry’s compliments. Not to mention the way Harry had his hand on your lower back.
“Miss Y/N, so lovely to have you here today. Please enjoy your visit.”
Once Sherod was out of earshot, Harry grinned at you and gestured to the left. You joined him in the large room where many art pieces were displayed on the walls and on pedestals, some encased. For the most part, you simply nodded as Harry pointed out some of the art he liked, commenting a bit when something caught your eye.
“I especially like this one,” Harry said when he stopped in front of a large canvas of greens and blues, tiny streaks of gold in between that resembled marble. “I sometimes come here just to stare at it for a bit. It calms me.”
“It looks like the ocean,” you agreed. “But also…a little like an enchanted forest, if that makes sense. Very tranquil.”
Turning his head to look at you, Harry opened his mouth. Once again, he seemed unable to speak, so you simply smiled back at him. Running your hand down his arm, you walked behind him to inspect the next painting.
“This one, however, has a different feeling altogether,” you remarked. “It’s sexy…a bit sensual, but not necessarily in a calming way. Kind of reminds me of pent up energy, ready to explode.”
Standing behind you, Harry placed his hands on your waist. You felt his breath in your hair before he pressed his lips to your head. You hummed softly at his sweet gesture, covering his hands with yours.
“Where’s your art, Harry?” you whispered.
Clearing his throat, he released his hands from your body and stepped toward the right. “Over here.”
At the end of the room, Harry stopped in front of a display of art that you recognized from his website. Seeing it in person was different from seeing it on a screen. It took your breath away. Mesmerized, you inspected each detail, every line, every stroke. You could feel Harry’s stare as you walked around his mini gallery. When you took in the last piece, you looked up at him.
“You’re amazing,” you declared. “It’s all so extraordinary.”
“Thank you, love,” he blinked slowly.
Taking his hands, you smiled. “Is it okay to kiss you in here?”
Harry chuckled, his eyes dancing. “I think it’s perfectly okay.”
His lips met yours as you lifted your hands to his neck, pulling him closer.
“I know, I have nothing really to go on,” you added when your mouths separated. “I’m not all that knowledgeable in art. I just know what moves me and what doesn’t. And yours definitely does.”
“Baby…” Harry breathed. “God, love, you’ve rendered me speechless today.”
Giving him one extra kiss, you took his hand again and gave it a squeeze. He didn’t need to say anything.
When you rounded the corner, however, Harry stopped in his tracks, an immediate look of disdain on his face. Following his point of vision, you noticed a familiar looking blonde at the reception desk. When she turned around, she tossed her hair behind her shoulder and lifted her chin.
“Hello, Harry.”
“Nicolette. What are you doing here?”
Of course. The former arm candy.
“Came to do some business with Sherod. Daddy’s having one of his restaurants remodeled, and he wants to buy all new art for it.”
“I see,” Harry frowned. With almost a shutter, he quickly cleared his throat and addressed you. “Sorry, Y/N, this is Nicolette Eisman, Nicolette, Y/N Y/LN.”
“Nice to meet you,” you greeted, gritting your teeth and hoping she didn’t recognize you from Zelda’s.
“Pleasure,” Nicolette said thinly, not bothering to even look you in the eye, her glare still on Harry. “How’s the moon series coming along? Have you finished it yet? Or are you going to wait another three months agonizing over it?”
“I don’t reckon that’s any of your concern anymore.”
“Ouch! Come now, Harry,” Nicolette retorted. “I thought we ended on better terms than that.”
“You thought wrong,” Harry said flatly.
Wanting to crawl into a hole, you were relieved when you saw Sherod emerge from a back room, holding out both hands to Nicolette.
“Darling! So good to see you!” he greeted her with the same emphatic energy he’d given Harry.
“C’mon, let’s go,” you heard him mutter before guiding you to the exit and out the door.
Once in the car, Harry revved up the engine before running his hands down his face with an exasperated sigh.
“Harry…” you said softly.
“I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “I definitely didn’t mean to run into her.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“She just…infuriates me. But…ugh, it has nothing to do with you. I don’t want this to ruin our day. I’m sorry.”
“Harry,” you said again, reaching your hand out to touch his arm. “It’s okay. It was bound to happen sooner or later. She obviously still does business here. Nothing you can do about that.”
“Yeah.”
Scooting closer to him, you smiled reassuringly. “Besides. I’m already having the best day with you. One snarky blonde is not going to ruin it.”
His million dollar smile sent a spark through your bloodstream and made you weak in the knees. When he pulled you into a kiss, he didn’t hesitate to let you know he wanted to deepen it, his tongue eager to fill your mouth. His hands cupping your face, he moaned against your lips, sending a whole other surge of arousal to your privates. You nearly gasped when he released you, your face warm with desire.
“Come home with me?” He asked it in a question form, but it sounded more like a demand. “I don’t want this day to end.”
“Me neither.”
“I’ll cook us dinner and we can watch the sunset. Then if you want, we can go to the shop, and I’ll give you your tattoo.”
“My tattoo? Tonight? But I still don’t know what I wanna get.”
“The heart moon. That art of mine you’d liked. I was working on it yesterday at the cafe.”
“You were working on a tattoo for me?”
“Yeah…” he smirked. “Rather presumptuous of me, I know. But I thought you might like it.”
Your smile widening, you nodded. “I do.”
You sat out on the small terrace of Harry’s apartment, overlooking the city, the sun descending before you in shades of orange, purple and red. Harry had cooked another lovely meal, this time bringing out a bottle of rosé as you sat barefoot on the same blanket from the picnic.
“Gorgeous, innit?” you heard him ask when you took a sip of wine.
“Breathtaking.”
“It’s my favorite thing about this flat. When there’s a full moon, you can see it clearly, like a big ball in the sky. It’s what inspired those paintings.”
“Harry, this…this is so romantic. This whole day. It’s been incredible.”
Harry feigned offense, a tiny smirk on his face. “What? You didn’t think I could be romantic?”
“No, I…well, the restaurant the other night was romantic too, it’s just…I wasn’t expecting this.”
“What were you expecting?”
“I dunno,” you shrugged. “I guess I figured…you know…after Saturday night, at the tattoo shop…”
“I’m not after a quick fix, Y/N.”
“No?”
Harry ran his fingers through his hair. “Let me make something clear, Y/N,” he said, scooting closer to you. “I’m immensely attracted to you. I’m excited to explore every single inch of your body, and to share mine with you. In every way you can imagine. But I reckon, if we’re on the same page…and I’m pretty sure we are…then we have plenty of time for all of that.”
You gulped, then blew out a breath. “We do?”
Harry reached a hand up to push a curl from your cheek. “I hope so.” His fingers lingered against your skin before he lightly ghosted the tips across your jaw. “You like me, yeah?”
You shivered at his touch as well as the way he was staring at you so intently. “Of course.”
“I like you, too. And the fact that I haven’t been able to get you off my mind tells me there’s something between us. Something I’m eager to explore further.”
“Really?”
Nodding, Harry set down his glass and reached for yours, placing it next to his.
“I’ve been…feeling something today, haven’t you? It’s like…you get me.”
“Yeah? How?” you asked.
“Like at the gallery. When you told me what those paintings made you feel. I feel the same thing. And when I sketched you at the park. You didn’t laugh at me, even though it was basically a rubbish scribble. It’s like you’re willing to open up a space for me in your heart. And I appreciate it so much. I…fuck, I dunno what I’m saying…I-”
Silencing him with your kiss, you moved even closer to him, and he ardently pulled you into his lap. His kisses were thirsty, as though it wasn’t the hundredth time your lips had touched that day.
“Harry…” you breathed. “I do get you. And I’ve been feeling it as well, all day. Just the fact that you wanted to show me your art at the gallery said so much. Not in a show-off kind of way; I didn’t take it like that. But more like you were willing to share a little bit more of yourself with me. Something you take pride in. That’s special to me, and means a lot.”
Harry smiled wide, running his hands up and down your back.
“Does that mean you might be willing to share something with me?”
“Like what?” you blushed.
“Like…your writing.”
“Oh,” you scoffed. “I haven’t written anything in ages.”
“Well…when you do? Can I read?”
You smiled. “Deal.”
“Good. Now…you ready to go get your tattoo?”
“No,” you sighed and shook your head.
“No?”
“Let’s save it for another day.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. I hope to have lots more of these with you.”
“Alright. I can’t promise anything though. I reckon I’ve run out of ideas.”
You playfully pushed his shoulder, making him lean back. “Stop it.”
“No, I’m perfectly fine with that,” he grinned. “Elated even.”
He kissed you fervently then, his tongue wanting nothing more than to wrestle with yours. He filled your mouth with wanton and shameless desire, your own appetite growing so much, you thought you might come undone. When his left hand cupped your breast while his right held your neck, you gasped.
“Can we go to the bedroom?” you inquired against his lips.
“Are you sure?” Harry asked, his chest falling with heavy breaths.
“Yes. I know you’d been holding back all day, trying to be a gentleman. And I appreciate the chivalry, I do. But I need to feel you now.”
A mere nod is all it took for you to rise from Harry’s lap. This time you held your hand out for him the way he had for you at the park. Taking your hand in his, he led you to his bedroom, his large bed claiming the majority of the space. You caught a quick glimpse of another painting above his bed before he laid you down and kissed you passionately.
“Baby…” he cooed. “Tell me what you like.”
With an inward chuckle, you grinned. “Somehow I knew you’d be the kind of guy to ask that.”
“Why? Don’t you want me to please you?”
“Very much.”
“Then tell me. I wanna make you feel good.”
“I think we both know you have no problems with that.”
Harry chuckled then, his sly smirk returning to his handsome face. “Alright then. Can I undress you?”
“Mhmm,” you nodded, sitting up slightly to allow Harry to pull your peasant blouse over your head. When his eyes traveled down your chest, you saw them darken with lust. And when he unhooked the front closure of your bra to reveal your bare breasts, his breath hitched in his throat.
“Jesus, babe, you’re beautiful.”
As you laid back down, Harry removed his own shirt, tossing it on the floor. Then he hovered over you, kissing you deeply once again. His necklace tapped against your bare skin as his mouth traveled down your neck and chest and between your breasts. His hands cupped them while his wet mouth sucked hungrily on your nipples, giving each equal attention.
When his lips moved further south, you felt him unbutton your jeans, tugging them as you lifted your butt so he could pull them down and off. Harry grinned when he spied your lace panties, a black pair this time.
“One day,” he commented, “when we’re both off from work and have nothing to do, I want you to spend the day here with me wearing nothing but your sexy lacy panties.”
You giggled delightfully as he grinned at you, his hands running up your thighs.
“You are so fucking sexy. I wanna make you scream my name, babe. But I’m afraid I might not last. Just being honest.”
Before you could retort, Harry slid your panties down your legs, caressing your feet on the way. Then he stood up and removed his own jeans and underwear. You barely had time to process the view of his delicious body before he was above you again, kissing you on the way up.
“Harry…baby…” you breathed hard when his mouth found your nipples again and his hand slid between your thighs, finding your wetness.
“Yeah, sweetheart. Tell me.”
“I need you. Now. Please.”
You gulped hard, trying to catch your breath as Harry’s thumb teased your clit. You could already feel yourself dripping, and when he slid his fingers up your slit and brought them to his mouth, you whined his name again.
“I’m here, babe,” he promised. “Just need a condom.”
Retrieving one from his bedside table, he rolled it over his length as you watched. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for his size. Then when he situated himself between your legs, he kissed you once again. When he lifted his head, his eyes were a dark, emerald green, his lips pink and swollen. You ran your hands up his inked chest and down his shoulders, grabbing hold of his biceps.
“I’m ready for you, love. Are you ready for me?”
You nodded as you looked into his eyes just before he pushed into you. You gasped even though he was considerate to be slow and easy as he moved. Before long you adjusted to his girth, your juices quickly dripping down your thighs.
You moaned at the sensation, the friction good enough to make you want to weep. Harry’s own groans and low pitched sounds sent your body trembling until you wrapped your legs around him, holding on tightly.
“Taking me so well, Y/N,” you heard him say. “That fuckin’ pretty pussy of yours. So wet.”
Mumbling sweet nothings in your ear, Harry rolled into you deeper. You thought he whispered something else about you feeling so good, but you were already on too much of a high to make out the words. Finally, grasping for the covers underneath you, you threw your head back and called out to God.
“Yeah baby,” Harry moaned. “I’m so close already.”
“Me too,” you breathed. “Holy shit, Harry. Fuck me!”
With a grunt, Harry shifted his body, grabbing your wrists and holding them down as he thrusted harder and faster. He cursed between heavy breaths, his voice quivering as he called you baby and honey while you took him deeper. Your toes curled and more moans escaped your lips until you knew you were close to the edge. Raking your fingernails down his back, you grabbed hold of his ass, pulling your legs back and wide.
“Fuck! Yesss!” Harry cried, pounding into you so hard, the headboard hit the wall. He propped himself up by grabbing it, sending you both sliding toward it until your head was flush against it.
Reaching between you, you took Harry’s balls in your hand and caressed them. You watched his eyes roll back in his head, his mouth gaping open as he continued to fuck you. He cursed again as he licked his lips, veins in his temples thick and prominent before you heard him let out a guttural moan, his hips thrusting a few more times. Then with a tiny whimper, his body fell against yours, his face buried in your neck.
“Shit,” he exhaled. “God damn, baby, you’re amazing.”
“Hmm, so are you,” you cooed, tracing invisible shapes across his back.
“No, ‘m not. I wanted to make you come first.”
With a giggle, you whispered, “I’m not even mad about that.”
Harry lifted his head then to look at you. You smiled at him, his beautiful face wet with perspiration, his curls messy atop his head. As he removed the condom and threw it away in the bin, he grinned at you shyly.
“I told you I might not last.”
“It’s totally okay.”
“Mmm, no it’s not. But I can still make you come.”
Harry crawled down your body like a snake, stopping at your waist. You opted not to protest. After all, he was willing to please you. Who were you to say no?
Gliding his hands down your thighs, he lifted them, wasting no time. His mouth was on your clit before you had time to take a breath, and a small cry left your lips at the contact. He hummed against you, creating a vibration that nearly made you come right then. Clutching at the sheets again, you felt your knees shake, your entire body reaching a new climax. Panting, you felt Harry’s tongue play with and tease your pussy. Wanting to come so badly, but also not wanting the unbelievable sensation to end, you bit your lip, moaning as tears began to well in your eyes. Finally, as a loud cry rose from your core, you grabbed hold of his head, thrusting your hips against him. With jagged breaths, you moaned his name over and over until your legs fell slack and he released his mouth, sucking up the remaining juices.
“How was that, sweetheart?” you heard him ask from far away. Or at least it seemed far away. You couldn’t tell. Time and distance did not exist in that moment. You barely knew your name. Your reply was a mere cry of exhaustion, and you heard Harry chuckle.
“I’ll take that to mean it was good.”
With a sigh, you managed to open your eyes and look at him. “Better than good.”
Harry grinned, crawling back up your body. “I’m glad. I really enjoy making you come. But I hope next time it won’t just be from my tongue.”
You would have joked then and told him his tongue was pretty magical, but you decided instead to just stare at his gorgeous face as you ran his fingers across his jaw and traced his lips. He seemed to enjoy it, his eyelids fluttering softly, a content peaceful expression making you want to pull him closer.
“Y/N,” he whispered low after a minute or two.
“Yes?”
“Will you stay here with me tonight?”
Though your heart was pounding in your chest, and butterflies danced in your stomach, the request combined with the look on his handsome face felt more calm than the tranquil painting at the gallery.
“I can’t think of a better way to end the most perfect day,” you replied.
Pulling you even closer, Harry’s lips met yours, fitting together like puzzle pieces. You melted into the kiss, just like the melting moon, dripping into a perfect tattooed heart.
If you enjoyed, please like, reblog and comment. xx
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Blasphemous Rumors - IV
“Marry me.”
He said it with such blasé that you weren’t sure you heard him correctly. Silence surrounded the two of you and he leaned down and tilted his head, watching you like a specimen under a microscope.
“Just for a year. A marriage of convenience. Consider it nothing more than a harmless experiment for the sake of curiosity.”
Il Dottore/Female reader with established personality. Slow-ish burn. Semi-enemies to lovers.
On AO3 here. Likes, reblog, and comments appreciated.
That sentiment never left in the weeks of planning that followed.
Every time someone asked about your ring, you told them it was being resized and that neither of you were pleased with the clarity of the gems. Besides, you would say, you didn’t want to show it off before the wedding.
The wedding date was settled by a Segment (Omega, you were certain, for he was the closest to the actual Doctor in personality) unceremoniously dropping a calendar on your desk. You closed your eyes, placed your finger somewhere and landed on a weekend towards the later half of the month.
Omega then had the gall to take a paperclip from your tiny dish that held them and twist one into a ring before he left without another word.
You didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.
The timeline was short. Six weeks. Even your coworkers who dabbled in event planning for the annual ball and other celebrations balked at the small window of time. A wedding of this magnitude required at least a year, someone said, and you wished their gaze hadn’t dropped to your lower half so blatantly.
When you weren’t working and trying to keep your eyes and ears about you to pass along information, you were trying to meet and correspond with vendors and come up with a vision of an event that, quite frankly, would suit neither of you if the matter of rank didn’t come into play. It kept you so busy that you toyed with the idea of a kamera to save you time but even those in Snezhnaya were not slim nor inconspicuous. But they were expensive to maintain. You couldn’t afford to add another item to your paper-thin personal budget.
You ran through your itinerary in your head again as you made your way down from the Palace and into town, thankful the weather was at least holding out a bit. Post office, bank, and an appointment with a seamstress that wasn’t on Regrator’s list of preferred vendors.
All of the dresses you saw and tried were simply…too much. Tried too hard. Beautiful in their work but felt like another layer of paint rather than an organic addition to the whole affair.
As far as you knew, the Harbinger had a personal tailor in the Palace anyway and going off of the suggested list was bound to produce some results. You were determined to find vendors who could use the support and might be overlooked otherwise.
Bad enough you had to go to Northland; you didn’t need wedding vendors working against you either.
The post office was packed, as usual, and you eagerly handed over the last remnants of your copied ledgers and notes. They might as well have been burning holes in your cloak pocket all morning. Your room and your office was now free of damning evidence. Privacy was almost non-existent now and it would vanish entirely soon enough. If you wrote to your parents more frequently, you could still keep up the habit established and not raise suspicion.
A break in a usual routine would be seen as unusual, you reminded yourself.
Amid the other envelopes was a thicker one, your reluctant communication to your parents about the change of circumstance. They deserved to know and understand that it changed nothing (if they were different people, you would not have told them at all). Traveling to the city was out of the question for them between the cost and your father’s health, let alone the added layer of your boss being thrown into that mix.
Lord Dottore’s proposal and your agreement already put you in a spotlight you never wanted to be in. You didn’t need Pantalone knowing exactly how bad of a position your parents’ bankruptcy had put them, and you, in.
Funny how you feared the Second Harbinger far less despite his gruesome acts, you mused after you thanked the clerk and made your way to Northland’s prominent facade. At least he wouldn’t care one way or the other so long as nothing interfered with his work. He never made it personal.
Until now, in a way.
Your cheek strung for a brief moment as your skin remembered the cold metal of your letter opener. The closest thing to a kiss you two shared.
Northland’s home branch was a source of tourism as much as it was an actual bank. Vaulted ceilings soared high overhead and marble pillars provided support that, for the briefest moments, made the building feel as much of a chapel as it was a bank. The guided tours helped.
Compared to the latest branch in Liyue Harbor, it was surprisingly austere in its plainness. Pantalone’s office suite and several of the other rooms outside of the lobby of tellers were far more opulent; much like its owner, the bank presented one image to the public and another to its closest confidants. The coffered ceilings casted shadows as intricate as the dealings on the floor below.
You waited in line, as everyone did. Most of the staff knew you, at least by loose association, and you were under no impression that anything was ever truly hidden.
Your family situation wasn’t the secret you needed to keep, after all. As far away as you tried to keep it, part of you knew that your boss was likely aware you sent most of your pay home. That you worked at the Palace as a sacrifice for the poor choices of others. And that he was likely at fault, although you doubted he would ever claim as such.
The source of the money was a different story, of course.
A bridge to cross another day.
As you filled out the respective slips for deposit and withdrawal, the clerk’s head snapped up out of your peripheral vision with an audible gasp.
“My lady, why didn’t you say you would be accompanied by your fiancé, the Lord Harbinger?” She whispered, a tinge of fear tainting her words. “We would have prepared a private office for you both to take care of your business.”
“I—”
Out of the corner of your eye to your left, you caught a tall figure with hair the color of a spring morning sky and a shining earring that gave off its own glow. The white cloak with its black fur collar filled in the gaps. Around you, it felt as if the very air around you had been sucked out. Chattering had all but ceased and you heard the shuffle of people changing their posture, dedicating their attention to the notion that a Harbinger was among them.
Would you ever get used to that? Likely not. When it was just the two of you, things were different; it was you and him meeting blow for verbal blow. You did your best to keep your composure and just as you were about to politely smile and tell the clerk that you handled affairs separately, a voice to your left interjected.
“Such accommodations won’t be necessary. We are not staying long enough to require them,” Lord Dottore remarked, not even turning his head in your direction.
Your face felt hot as you thanked the clerk for their assistance and handed over the account slips. A presence lingered at your side and you didn’t have to look to see that it was Dottore; he had already finished whatever his errand was but for him to leave would look bizarre, you rationalized. You tried to ignore the biting thought that he was sticking around to ensure you didn’t bumble your way through the transaction now that the cat was out of the bag.
“Just a deposit then, My Lady?” the clerk asked.
“Yes, as usual. Will the funds be accessible later today?”
“Immediately, ma’am. The account holder should have no issue.”
If you timed it right, the morning post would arrive in time for your mother to reach the bank and take care of other affairs before the end of the day. Bills were already paid. But groceries and medicine were constant necessities and your parents couldn’t stockpile like they used to.
Next to you, Lord Dottore seemed to prickle with a question that he knew wasn’t appropriate. Hearing his fiancé was giving money away when she was, supposedly, so good at it herself, was a variable never discussed.
A lot of things weren’t discussed though. This might as well have been an elopement save for the actual, well, act of running away.
Once everything was finished, Dottore escorted you out of the bank, extending his elbow in silent regard. Right. Anything else would be too informal. You tried your best not to look uncomfortable with his proximity or at the looks and whispers from staff and client alike as you looped your hand underneath to hold the crook of his arm.
“Not an outcome I anticipated but one I will take advantage of nonetheless,” Dottore muttered, only loud enough for you to hear. “I need to borrow your hand.”
You looked up at him, face contorted in confusion. The proposal was unusual enough on its own. Did he mean your actual hand, and if so, attached or detached? Was your life now going to be filled with bizarre requests?
“What?” you hissed, baffled.
Several heads turned as you walked through the snowy street. The tilt of his head told you he was glaring at you for drawing such attention.
“You need a ring, do you not, my dear? I might be the best scholar in several centuries but even I am aware that ring sizes are best left to proper measurement devices.”
Oh. Of course. Your ring.
“I thought you were busy for the next several weeks, sir,” you emphasized your correction more for those who might overhear than the man you were speaking with. “Unless you are, in fact, not the Doctor?”
“As if I would leave such a personal matter to a segment.”
He spat the words, insulted. Whether by the insinuation he’d doled out the task or your seeming inability to tell him apart from his counterparts, you couldn’t quite tell.
You could tell them apart. Lord Dottore knew that.
But he also knew how important it would be to make this appear right.
Lord Dottore didn’t wait for you to reply and continued. “It will not take long and then you can be on your way. Where else are you off to, anyway?”
“I have an appointment with a seamstress. Plenty of well-known vendors extended their offerings but they were…” you gestured with your free hand, finding yourself at a loss for words other than, “rather unremarkable.”
The chuckle that wrenched from his lips made your blood run cold and your heart jump.
“You’re certainly playing your part, Accountant,” he teased.
Of course you were. What did he expect, to marry you in your uniform? You bit your tongue for a second to think on your words.
“As I said when last we spoke, I don’t wish to misrepresent you. That goes for your rank as well as who you are, or at least the image you project. But everything I was presented with was just not right.”
You walked in silence for three steps before Lord Dottore said, “Elaborate.”
That was like asking you to explain why you balanced numbers the way you did or why you preferred to sleep on your right rather than your left side. You just did.
“They’re beautiful but they feel almost…like I’m competing with the Tsaritsa. Like I’m just a doll to wear the dress rather than the dress being a reflection of…well, me.”
You cast a glance up at Lord Dottore as he gave a hum and found his head angled towards you in such a way that prevented you from seeing beneath his mask. A part of you was curious, of course, about what he looked like. You weren’t alone in that regard but it was never acted upon except by the young, giddy acolytes who had yet to find their place as a Fatuus, enamored with the prospect rather than the work.
Even as a spouse, you doubted you would be privy to his face. Why would you be? You were to be an equal on paper, nothing more.
“I trust your judgment, Accountant. The ceremony is long and the reception is longer; it would be better to have something that you feel comfortable in. I don’t rightly care, as you well know, but expectations must be met for this to be believable.”
Before you could speak again, you were led into a shop with glass counters and carefully placed lights. The encased jewelry and the glass itself didn’t so much sparkle as glow and you were careful to tap out your boots so as to not soak the plush carpet.
Lord Dottore didn’t so much as shake out his cloak’s hem as he addressed the shopkeeper. You tried to keep your expression neutral as you looked around, each case organized by the type of stone. Everything in here had to be worth at least ten times your salary in total and it churned your stomach to even try to calculate that amount. You tore your gaze away and returned to Dottore’s side.
Sizing was, in fact, just as quick as he said it would be. The process was just a matter of using the jeweler's equivalent to a set of keys, each sizing ring marked with the appropriate measurement. You tried on a few before settling on a number that was snug enough not to slip over your knuckle easily and came off with a bit of a struggle.
“There, matter settled,” Dottore murmured as the jeweler jotted down notes.
And you didn’t even lose a hand, you thought. Yet.
If you were alone, you might have made the joke aloud.
He was closer than you expected, his eyes seemingly glued to the case the entire time you went back and forth with the jeweler on the sizing. He’d only chimed in once in the whole process, to take your hand and try the sizer himself, as if gauging the difficulty of getting the ring over your knuckle. You tensed instantly before reminding yourself to relax.
You would need to get used to being in his presence and he would have to put your band on your finger publicly, after all.
Something in his face shifted and you got the distinct feeling you’d failed whatever he was trying to benchmark. You’d been slipping. First the bank, now this. His finger traced the faint line across your cheek as he brushed his lips over your forehead.
“You should get going if you don’t want to be late, my dear.”
“Of course,” you replied, tilting your head and daring to lean ever so slightly into the gesture.
Two could play that game.
You thanked the jeweler for their time and left the shop, hoping the cold would stave off the burning sensation on your cheek.
The seamstress appointment was better, but only just. At the mere mention of the timeline and the passing look between the shopkeeper and the assistant, you knew they connected the dots as to which upcoming wedding this was for.
“We would have come to you, my lady,” the seamstress said.
You could feel any sense of control over the situation slipping away to propriety again.
“Please, I’m not—”
“A Harbinger’s fiancé, and the Second’s at that, shouldn’t have to come down into town. We would have gladly made the trip up to the Palace.”
Was it a faux part on your part or was it fear? Her face was so hard to read. Running any kind of business was difficult enough. Harder still to contend with public courtesy and unwritten rules. Fontaine had it worst of all, you recalled, but even here in Snezhnaya, rank and social standing ruled with a golden hand.
It only went so far, though, and that Pantalone didn’t work directly with the shop spoke volumes to you. You overheard so many conversations when you were in the backroom, balancing the books and triple-checking the tax levies. Those who respected your father’s time were the ones he was always willing to work with, no matter the situation.
“I want whoever I work with to be in the best environment for them. You have everything here, after all; it makes far more sense for me to come to you,” you replied evenly.
Hopefully, in the event someone decided to speak and spread whatever they saw, you passed as humble and self-aware.
After all, that was the point.
You eventually found yourself swaddled in lace and tulle, watching as the two craftspeople worked together to find the perfect color and the perfect patterns. A very soft silvery-blue, rather than a strict white, laid a shimmering foundation upon which the lace and tulle were overlaid; the bodice and sleeves would be lace and the pattern would fade until the hem and the train. It was difficult to visualize at first until you looked at another dress, already made, and they described the changes in volume and cut with a sketch that made you wish you did have a kamera after all.
What beauty, wasted on the likes of Il Dottore, you thought as you looked in the mirror and watched as the material reflected light as though it were water. Such a moment would make any ordinary bride happy but you had never felt more alone in the entire endeavor thus far.
Neither truly balked at the six week time frame when you began discussing deadlines and cost. Instead, you were reassured that you would have a dress that would keep the rest of the nation talking for years to come. A grandiose exaggeration, spoken with all the levity one might read a law, but you appreciated it nonetheless.
When you stepped out into the cold again, you were greeted by a familiar mask and cloak; Lord Dottore was standing outside like a large menacing hound, waiting for you.
He said nothing and began to walk away as you pulled your cloak tighter around you to seal away your warmth. It took you a moment to realize he was walking in the direction of the Palace.
“If you’re finished, my lord, it would be more expedient to take a carriage back,” you advised. “The snow makes for poor footfalls and the sky might open any minute again.”
Dottore turned his head to gaze over his shoulder at you, his mouth thin. In turn, you raised your eyebrows, expectant. It was the same look you gave him when you needed an explanation during an audit.
“I walked down from the Palace,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and the biggest inconvenience to admit.
“So did I. But the people have seen us together and it would not be fitting for us to be seen trekking back up to the Palace. We don’t have to be a wholly united front but even you know that the optics of that, in addition to my empty finger, don’t bode well. Don’t want to be accused of not caring, do you?”
Dottore clicked his tongue as a puff of hot breath streamed from his nose and for a moment, he looked every bit like an angry dragon as he turned and flagged down a nearby coach. You didn’t miss the smug smirk and sardonic bite when he said, “After you,” and helped you into the closed carriage.
Silence dominated the ride out of town and back up the hill the Palace sat on. Your feet ached and now that you were sitting down, you realized how much the day had taken out of you for errands that, normally, wouldn’t have bothered you. Granted, you hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was well into the afternoon, which didn’t exactly help. You went through your mental checklist of things to be done as you gazed out the coach window; your thoughts were interrupted by a tap of your shoe from the man across from you. He withdrew his leg, as much as he could within the confines of the space and extended his hand, which held a tiny box.
Your eyes flicked from the box to his hidden face just once, finding his expression unreadable as always, before you took it from him.
Perched within were two rings of gold so brilliant it looked almost pink, woven into a vine pattern. The first ring held a sizeable light blue stone so clear it looked as if it could have been carved from ice, flanked by a smaller stone on either side that appeared more purple than blue, iridescent in the way it refracted light. The setting was dotted with tiny blue stones of the same color and clarity as the centerpiece, resulting in a diamond-shaped cluster. Beneath it, the accompanying wedding band mimicked the setting, woven vines housing tiny ice droplets, the shape lining up with the other ring exactly so the two nested together.
The sensation from earlier in the dress shop came flooding back. Such craftsmanship and time went into making such a beautiful piece. On their own, the rings were stunning, but there was thought in this choice; it matched many of the motifs the man himself used and was known for and it would act as a reminder whenever she wore it.
Something tugged at your stomach before you reminded yourself that this was all for a show, that it didn’t matter. You blinked away tears faster than they could form. No. He didn’t deserve such a thing from you.
But you couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been in that shop looking for something capable of such impact.
“It should keep Pantalone quiet. Not that anything will ever silence that man’s prattling, especially if he knew how many arms I had to twist to find something suitable.”
Briefly, you recalled the rings on Lord Pantalone’s fingers and how often they were swapped out, save the globus cruciger. It was not uncommon to hear him remark about the clarity of a stone or the difficulty in obtaining it; the bragging point was often the price and you always refrained from retching every time you heard a figure higher than the last.
You removed your gloves and slipped on the first ring. It fit perfectly; not that you expected anything less.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, handing him back the box with the wedding band. “I wasn’t expecting anything quite so…”
“As we’ve agreed, Accountant, this needs to be well beyond believable,” Dottore replied, tucking the box away in his cloak. “It would have been easy to give you any ring and have this be passable on the surface. No one questions a diamond ring in high social circles, only how big the diamond is, after all. However, we have the added thread of plausibility and both of us are aware Regrator scrutinizes everything. Aquamarine and tanzanite, with reinforced rose gold, in the event one should ask.”
When you’d managed to bring yourself to make the trip down to his workshops, you didn’t expect much from that conversation other than at least a piece of jewelry that would stop all of the lingering stares and whispers. He’d thrown your expectations out the window.
That was quintessentially him, though, wasn’t it? To take something and run with it, to push an idea well beyond the expectations and thoughts of others.
Lord Dottore knew it, too, for he adjusted his posture ever so slightly. Just like he did when he knew you had no other recourse but to give in to his budget requests.
“I’ve held up my end as requested, Accountant. But I find myself curious: what were you doing at Northland?”
A question you knew he’d been dying to ask ever since he overheard the transaction at the bank. And you were no longer in a position to deny him the answer, not when he’d not only fulfilled your request but did so well beyond the expectations you held.
Bastard.
He didn’t need to know much, you reasoned. And you were in no position to not answer. Defensiveness here would raise too many alarm bells.
“I…send money to my parents back home. Most of my pay goes to them to cover bills and expenses. My father no longer works; my mother spreads herself too thin caring for him and trying to earn a pittance when she can,” you replied.
The words almost choked you to admit them outloud. No one else, not even your coworkers, knew; Lord Pantalone probably did, at least to some extent. But it seemed like an unspoken responsibility shouldered by those within the administration spheres and on the field. The way food was shared during lunch after an admission of missing a meal or the crowd-funding of a night out to raise spirits seemed so contrary to what you expected. You had chipped in all for the sake of appearances only to be given the same respect in kind. It wasn’t foreign to you, per se, but after the bankruptcy, it was difficult to find those willing to help your family when all they saw was negligence and bad decisions.
It was nothing to be ashamed about.
To clear the air, you continued.
“They’ve asked for nothing more and I fully intend to only use my wages for such things.”
Lord Dottore tilted his head before he looked away, his gaze seemingly set on the landscaping passing by. The answer bored him, clearly, as you expected it to.
“I care little for what you do beyond your role but be sure not to neglect yourself for the sake of others.”
Icy rain fell in sheets, pelting the ground in soft plinks as you arrived back at the Palace. You parted ways without another word and you wished the metal on your finger was as cold as the rain and the man who gave it to you.
Her visit to Haeresys was quite unexpected, to say the least. Not many people ventured down into the bowels of the Palace unless they absolutely had to. But for her to not would otherwise lend itself poorly, wouldn’t it?
After all, she was never afraid to speak her mind before. More than once she has left my ego bruised and my pride singed when she laid out points I’d pushed aside in previous considerations. Said points were not neglected but rather only issues if they were encountered; when she provided context, more often than not, there was little option but to compromise. When all is said and done, she too considers the bigger picture, just from a different angle. No two artists paint the same image even when given the same set of references. It is one of the few areas of the human experience that is, perhaps, at least intriguing.
Sohreh, for all her fawning, was similar. At least the Accountant did not blush every time she laid eyes on me.
Such things were what drove my desire to create the prostheses, after all.
The pageantry of all of this…utterly ridiculous. All of this for the sake of a bet, a gamble; a ladder for Pantalone to get off of my back at the cost of time I will never regain.
How do others pursue this for the sake of emotion? This is truly joyous for some? Or is it social convention that dictates one must go this route, to celebrate so widely when so few truly know those exchanging nuptials?
Does one even need emotion, that worthless thing of love, to make these arrangements work?
The historical argument would hold that no, emotion doesn’t matter. Without that, perhaps something stronger still is erected to replace fleeting desire and heart palpitations and whimsical dreams. This farce can be plausible without such trivial things.
And Regrator will be proved wrong, as all others before him have been.
Even if it means playing by the convention he expects us to follow.
Us.
Strange to use that in reference to…an existence outside of my own.
Other than her late night gallivanting to demand a ring, I have seen little of her. Omega has dutifully managed what needed my input and that has allowed me to prioritize.
The Tsaritsa has already insisted on sending me away and offered up a choice of properties to boot. A lack of a honeymoon would be forgivable given my position and I would rather stay here and focus on what must be done. Too much progress has already been made. But I am in no position to deny Her Majesty’s will and I must also consider the Accountant’s position. She was already questioned about a ring; I would never hear the end of it from Regrator and it would put her in an even worse position, surely, if we didn’t at least leave the Palace.
Annoying. Worrying about another’s quality of life. Their actions. The impact they’ll have.
I had not expected running into her at the bank, of all places, although I cannot place why. After all, she’s an accountant and financial assistant. At the very least, she would be running an errand for work, if not for herself. That was a normal occurrence for most people.
She’d avoided eye contact with me. Even looked annoyed when the clerk mentioned transaction details, perhaps under the assumption I would be aware of them.
Not helped by her surprise when I provided my reasoning for needing her company. What did she think, that I would be severing her body? I am aware of the fear about me that spreads rumors like a plague but she should give me a little more credit than that. After all, short of the reports given to the Tsaritsa, the Accountant is one of the few who at least can put a value to the work I do.
Worse still, she looked stiff and uncomfortable during the ring sizing. The jeweler is one of Regrator’s contacts but to work with anyone else would result in another earful I didn’t want to hear. Anything detrimental would make its way back to the banker in no time. But what better way to prove solidarity than throw it right in Regrator’s face? Acting distant would do us no credit.
I had specifically chosen her for the bite she could give back and in public settings, she was proving to be less reliable than I hypothesized.
How would she react to public affection, gestures that few would think twice about? Her skin was still cold from outside when I leaned in. She hid the dark circles beneath her eyes well enough and by now, the cut on her cheek had healed, leaving behind only a thin line noticeable in the right light. The scent of parchment and ink clung to her, mingled with whatever floral scent her soap was infused with.
Disgusting. How could anyone ever find the smell of flowers pleasant?
And then she had the gall to tilt her head and look up at me through her lashes. A lesser individual might have bought such behavior.
Not me.
She left for her dress appointment and the nagging thought of my own attire came to mind. Omega was seeing to that. White with tails, blue and gold accents, all the while bearing the feathery mantle I’ve grown quite fond of. Why not have a bit of a dramatic flair, after all, if I must go through with all of this?
I should have left the ring to Omega, in hindsight. He would have come to the same conclusion I did. All the colors before me were nothing more than structural compounds of specific minerals and a mix of circumstances. No stone was special when it was broken down into its most basic components.
The deep reds and brilliant rubies were, to the jeweler’s credit, remarkable enough for what they were. If this were different, perhaps these would have been suitable…
But she has never seen my eyes. And she likely never will.
Diamonds would be appropriate, if nothing else.
Rare, resilient.
Cliche.
Aquamarine, however…would be a reflection of her homeland, among other things. Symbolically, it was impossible to go wrong or be misinterpreted.
But the stones nearby, iridescent purple ranging in various shades, were far more unique. I’d encountered such stones before, in the depths of the desert when taking apart Deshret’s Primal Constructs to reinforce my boots and weaponry during my exile. Deshret had failed in his attempt to save the people; his legacy meant little to me.
Two colors, then.
The jeweler was quick to accommodate, finding a matching band in no time, but it paled in comparison to the main ring when the stones were properly set. I had little doubt he would hesitate to inform Pantalone the moment I left. Paying extra would do little but delay the information anyway.
I found the notion of a band for myself wasteful. I’d never wear the thing. It would only get in the way.
But the Accountant was dedicated to portraying the image needed…
Platinum would, at least, survive.
The Accountant finished her appointment not long after I’d tucked both boxes in my pocket and found the shop she’d mentioned. It was impossible to see the back of the shop from the windows in front, even if I had been curious about her plans and wanted to know.
Which I didn’t.
I just wanted to be done with this entire affair so I could focus on other things. Usually, I enjoy the process of the experiment; ever since the words left my mouth weeks ago, however…
Perhaps she was feeling something similar. The look on her face when she stepped out of the shop was not unlike the one from when she first began working in the Palace, when she’d had no choice but to summon me in place of the Segments. Her smile was strained, her eyes looking at him but clearly elsewhere.
And yet she still managed to dig her heels in about a carriage, of all things.
She’d walked down herself–she wasn’t the type to take an easy route or method anywhere. The cold was, despite my Delusion, still bitter and dry for me and yet I didn’t think twice about taking the trip on-foot. Few bothered me and I could go at my own pace.
I should have left her behind. Why had I gone to the shop to wait for her, anyway?
Other than her protest for a carriage, she was quiet. Not that I minded. But her earlier behavior continued to nag, like an irritating fabric in cloying heat. Was she like the rest after all?
When she took the box and opened it, her pragmatism won out. It unsettled me that she did not, as most might, gush over the rings, but it sickened me all the more to wish she did.
What use was her praise?
None of this mattered.
The thanks from her lips were genuine enough but something in her face was harder to pin down. Her eyes were a little watery though and the flush of her cheeks was not just from the brisk wind outside. I’ll take what reactions I can get out of her…I need to document something, after all.
She kept her main ring and returned the box with the other band inside. The red leather was still warm when I tucked it away again.
I couldn’t help myself, however, as the moment from the bank came to mind again. Perhaps she would be pliable, now that I’d played along? What was the worst that could happen?
Right. Most still have a family. Living for centuries desensitizes you to all of those notions.
Sending money back home is not uncommon, especially among the lower ranks and the administrative branches. She cared for others. Not a sentiment I can understand.
But I do know what it means to rise to every occasion, to come from nothing and fight for every scrap along the way. As unconventional as it had been, the Akademiya saw to it that I would, in one way or another, find what I wanted out of life.
Her earnestness is unsettling. Hard work pays off but only when you have something to prove. At least she knows her boundaries, I suppose. That should make it all the quicker to find them myself, see how they might break…
That this is nothing more than transactional should make that all the easier.
I left the carriage as soon as the horses pulled to a stop. She’d managed to shake the doubts instilled in me with nothing more than a few words and a conviction that ran deeper than the icecaps not far from the Palace.
She was the right choice for this little experiment after all.
#fic: blasphemous rumors#il dottore#dottore#dottore x reader#il dottore x reader#dottore/reader#dottore/female reader#il dottore/female reader#dottore x female reader#female reader#marriage of convenience
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my thoughts on the new sleep token masks and what's next:
the boys have been hinting at this type of change for a while now, iii's paint slowly turning red and iv and ii taking off their masks at the show just before wembley. I think thr new album will be more metal and overall more heavy, similar to their songs vore and gods.
I don't think these changes are necessarily meant to be seen as a part of the TMBTE cycle, they quite literally said "a new era" on each of their posts, these masks are hinting at and showing us what to expect for the next era. Sleep Token is very deliberate with what they choose to do appearance wise and their lore so although these masks are a very drastic change, it's all part of the plan.
NOW for lore.... TPWBYT and Sundowning were kinda defeat albums, Vessel being at his lowest while TMBTE is a redemption album, Vessel taking control back in his life from Sleep and his insecurities/past faults. that being said- the next album will probably be Sleep fighting Vessel back. I think what's happening is that Sleep takes different forms of Vessels insecurities and past faults so Sleep is using this to their advantage, using the other vessels (ii, iii, and iv) as their puppets. the toxic back and forth cycle between Sleep and Vessel is ending so Sleep is taking the manipulation up a notch. the new masks look very intimidating and it's all deliberate, Sleep is possessing the other vessels and shaping them into Vessels (i) fears as a way to get to Vessel (i), I mean, what would be a better way to get to Vessel if not to use the band as a way to get to him?
people say the masks clash too much and they don't look consistent but I think that's exactly what's supposed to happen. Sleep is using ii, iii and iv as Vessels INDIVIDUAL insecurities. Vessel sees the others and its a mirror of his faults. or maybe they quite literally wanted to look more individual rather than have the same look as one another 🤷♀️
the next album will be like a videogame boss fight between Vessel and sleep
some other stuff I noticed and some more theories. do these mean anything? who knows! this is just me rambling:
Vessel has runes written all over his body, I couldn't exactly make out what they say but just going off the fact that it's runes- it can either be 1. a protection barrier from Sleep or 2. another way that Sleep is slowly taking over vessel
it seems like the mouths on the masks are getting wider and wider in order from ii, iv, iii, and then Vessel. while all the others have the band sigil across their eyes, ii is the only one who has it across his mouth. considering ii is the second vessel and Sleep is struggling to control Vessel(i), what if theyre going for ii? using him as the main vessel? he also imo has the most intimidating looking mask out of everyone so...
or maybe iii is gonna get a mic and thats why his mask is open HEHE
my sister pointed this one out- iii had gold on his hands as he was transitioning to the red body paint and as we all know, iii and iv are very touchy on stage, iii always lifting ivs mask up, them kissing, etc etc. now iv has gold on his mask, what if iiis gold paint from his hands transferred to ivs mask? what would this mean? IDK maybe it's another Sleep tactic or we're looking too much into it lmao
iv also has Vessels leg wraps on his arm? what's up with that?
ANYWAYS lmk your thoughts, my mind is going crazy rn and I think people are taking the mask changes at face value rather than thinking about why they look the way they do now and how it fits in the lore
#sleep token#sleep token worship#sleep token band#sleep token ii#vessel sleep token#sleep token iii#sleep token iv#sleep token lore#lore rambles#sleep token ritual#sleep token mask#tmbte#take me back to eden#tpwbyt#this place will become your tomb#sundowning#sleep token tmbte#sleep token sundowning#sleep token tpwbyt#im so in love with the new masks guys#i keep staring at them and finding cool new details!!#im losing my mind
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Can we all:
A) stop pitting show vs book Lockwood and co related things against each other because they’re both great in different ways. you can obviously have a favourite or prefer something in one or the other but I’ve seen too many people hating on one or the other
B) hating on each other for having a favourite. (Big difference of preferring one though versus calling my one worse or shit etc. there yes can be things you can point out as not great to you or that you didn’t enjoy but there’s not need for blatant hate) Again it ties in with the top one
Ive just been seeing so much unnecessary bullshit. Pitting them against one another and fighting with each other doesn’t help this be a fandom of unity, it just causes more hate.
Neither is better or worse in the scheme of things it’s personal preference they’re both great in different ways because they’re two different things but related by being based on the same story!
Basically you can’t compare a sculpture to a painting they’re two different mediums but they’re both works of art (it doesn’t mean either is perfect either they’re just admired for being awesome to you!)
#Lockwood and co#save lockwood and co#anthony lockwood#lucy carlyle#renew lockwood and co#george cubbins#George Karim#quill Kipps#locklyle#locknation#lock nation
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Can you write the TADC cast with a male ballet dancer reader? The reader experiences gender dysphoria 24/7 because they look very feminine and all that.
TADC cast x male!ballet dancer!reader w/ dysphoria
back to finishing up the current line up of requests!! reminder that im only doing requests that have been sent in prior to them being closed! any requests that are sent in while theyre still closed will not be taken and will be deleted so i can keep track of what was sent before closing; its nothing against any of yall and you guys can resend your stuff when they are reopened (i will make it very obvious when they are so dw!!)
on a different note i could have sworn i did a cast request with a reader who does ballet; but i guess it was only for jax and i was confusing the group request for the ballora type! reader from this morning
huh
anyways!! i hope you enjoy this anon! quick warning that i know literally nothing about ballet so im
CAINE:
i think he enjoys a bunch of art forms; from music stuff to dance stuff to painting stuff, this man has taste. i think he would give you a bunch of outfits for you to wear and swap around that fits your aesthetic. bro would give you a whole walk in closet. as for dysphoria, i think he would do a similar thing with jax and reinforce how masculine you are to him, usually through affirmations, but he also shows it through just being there for you, bro is not only your number one fan but hes also your biggest supporter
POMNI:
i am yet again stumped on what to put in for pomni, since i think pomni is. bad at comforting people. very awkward, do not go to her for advice she will fumble so bad. now its not like shes not trying, but i think she would be all over the place trying to cover everything that could possibly help you; perhaps you two ultimately settle on cuddling one another... if this werent the digital world you two would probably put on a movie to take your mind off of it. as for her thoughts on ballet! i think she would find it neat, similar to jax she would have a form of respect for it!
RAGATHA:
she thinks it looks pretty, the dancing! she wouldnt know all the history or more in depth parts of it but she would watch you practice if you allowed her too... i think she would make you a binder, if your digital body causes any gender dysphoria for you.. though now that i type this i recall it being said that the characters clothing being stuck to their body.. so maybe she would just make you clothing thats more masculine as well? im not sure on this one!
JAX:
doing jax first since he already got a similar post and i can use it as a basis; ive said this in that post as well as the ballora one but i think he would at least appreciate the dedication and hard work that goes into ballet... to like, fully commit to something like that impresses him you know? as for dysphoria, i think he would make it a point to call you more masculine terms. hes gonna be trying his best to try to help you with your dysphoria in the way that best helps you. lays off on his teasing on days where its worse
KINGER:
i am yet again distraught that i do not have many ideas for kinger this time, which is sad because hes my favorite character and i can relate so hard to the dysphoria thing... thinks.. probably throws all of his knowledge at you. i mean hes been in the circus for a while, hes probably seen at least a few people come and go; and sure what are the odds that he has some experience helping someone fight through their dysphoria... a boy can dream! takes you to his pillow fort and lets you stay for as long as you want
probably sits and watches you dance on a makeshift pillow thrown. claps when you're done, probably throws roses... i think caine would throw roses too except he would throw way more simply because he can literally. manifest as many as he wants
ZOOBLE:
i dont usually like sharing my lgbt hcs about characters out of fear that it would be met with discourse but if i recall correctly zooble doesnt really have a gender/a set one (if im wrong correct me!) so they understand the dysphoria thing; i think they would offer to let you hang out in your room and vent your feelings out. probably tries to give advice on how to feel better in general if you want advice, but if you want comfort theyre gonna do your best to give it to you. i dont think zooble would have much of an opinion on ballet; neither negative or positive, simply knowing thats its an art form! supports you if it makes you happy, though!
GANGLE:
while not the same thing, i like to think gangle used to do ribbon dancing in the real world... because... ribbon girl. see look im so so creative
but also i think it looks pretty
so you guys can bond over your hobbies! you might have to pry gangle to open up and talk about her interest in it, assuming she picks it up again in the digital world! as for dysphoria, i think gangle would be like zooble in terms of lending you some support; offers to help distract you if you dont want to tackle the issue at that point in time. i dont know about you, but sometimes i just, dont want to deal with my own dysphoria, but perhaps thats just a me thing
#tadc x reader#the amazing digital circus x reader#digital circus x reader#caine x reader#pomni x reader#ragatha x reader#jax x reader#kinger x reader#zooble x reader#gangle x reader
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Hellooooo! If you feel like it, might I request...
"Sorry, that was my first kiss."
"I could tell."
"I was kidding!"
with whomever you feel like writing, although I feel like it screams Fives. ;)
xoxoxoxox
Free! My wonderful friend! Thank you so much for the ask! While this is on brand for Fives, I actually was drawn to another one of our beautiful Domino Squad members with this one! Cutup!
A Good Batch
Pairing: Clone Trooper Cutup x GN!Reader
Summary: You’re the head nurse for a Republic Mobile Surgical Unit. Your unit is assigned to the region Domino Squad has been tasked to assist. Cutup is too charming for his own good.
Warnings: none. It’s fluffy and our boys live.
Word Count: 1064
A/N: This is an AU in which all of Domino Squad survive Rishi Moon, Rex claims them all as his chaos sons, and then nothing bad ever happens to them again and they live happily ever after as they deserve the end. Extra points if you catch the Clone Cadets Easter egg I dropped in there.
Prompt:
"Sorry, that was my first kiss."
"I could tell."
"I was kidding!"
…will be in bold blue
You’d been head nurse for RMSU 17 for so many rotations you’d lost count. Every new assignment was the same: Set up, help the men, tear down, move on. You were regularly poorly equipped and understaffed. Resupply visits from the Republic were unreliable, infrequent, and never adequately fulfilled your unit’s needs. But that's how all the RMSUs operated so you and the rest of the staff made do and were creative when you needed to be. You assumed this assignment would be no different.
They had warned you about Domino Squad before they arrived. “A bad batch” they’d been called. Now they were one of the most highly decorated and skilled squads in the GAR. The heroes of Rishi Moon. What you weren’t prepared for was how fully and completely you would fall for one of them.
Cutup captured your attention immediately. He was undeniably handsome with an intense piercing gaze and his tidy well kept beard. But beyond that, he was indomitable and cool headed combined with a sense of humor that regularly left you laughing until you were in tears. You often found yourself seeking his company in the RMSU cantina during your time off. Meanwhile Cutup was accompanying his brothers for medical treatment more often the longer the mission dragged on.
“Hello nurse!” He declared as he threw the hospital wing doors open, flashing you his ten million credit smile. Droidbait had landed himself in hospital for the third time that week which meant Cutup was there for his usual visit and good natured ribbing of his brother.
“Hello again Cutup.” You glanced up from Droidbait’s iv with an affectionate smile. Cutup sidled up next to you sending your stomach reeling.
“My brother. Droidbait. He gonna be okay?” He asked dramatically, throwing his arm across his forehead and flopping across Droidbait’s lap. Droidbait flashed him an impolite hand gesture as you giggled.
“Yes, he’s going to be just fine. Though I do understand how he got the name. I think he’s the first repeat customer I’ve ever had here. I’m considering starting a rewards program just for him. ‘Get three blaster bolts, you get a free surgery’ or something.”
Droidbait glared at you both as Cutup laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. You chuckled as you stepped away to the med cabinet. As you measured out the next round of meds due in ten standard minutes, you felt a presence over your shoulder. You glanced over to see Cutup hovering with a glint in his eye and a sweet grin.
“Oi, leave room for the Maker you too!” Droidbait called from his bed.
“Shhh, Droidbait you need rest,” Cutup scolded with a lazy wave of his hand, his attention never wavering from you. “I just want to thank you. For all you’ve done.”
“You don’t have to thank me. This is a field hospital. I’m a nurse. It’s my job.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
You paused, turning to face him. He smirked seeing the bewilderment painted across your face.
“I’ve seen the long nights you pull when one of us comes through. Droidbait says he has never woken up alone. Echo said you came in on your time off to make sure his wound dressing was changed correctly. Hevy said you visited him in the barracks to make sure his concussion was cleared. With all the attention you’ve paid to my brothers, I’m almost jealous I haven’t gotten injured yet.”
“You don’t have to be injured to get my attention, Cutup,” you said, almost instantly regretting it as a hot flush rushed to your face.
“No?” He asked, his voice rumbling deep in his chest as he stood so close his breath fanned your face.
“I-I would prefer you not get hurt, actually.” Your breath hitched as his amber eyes burned into you. For a moment you could have sworn he knew exactly what you were thinking.
“You worried about me, nurse?” His eyes glittered with delight as a cocky smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“I…ahh…” was all you managed to stammer before making up a halfhearted excuse about a patient needing you and rushing off.
You were surprised to find Cutup waiting for you when you finished your shift. You weren’t sure how it was possible but he managed to look even more gorgeous in the radiant starlight.
“Couldn’t let you walk alone so late,” he crooned, approaching you with a confident swagger that immediately drew your eyes to his hips.
“You’re sweet, Cutup. But I’ve walked alone countless times. I could do it with my eyes closed.”
“Oh yeah? I’d like to see that.” Cutup cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms.
“Me walking with my eyes closed?” You confirmed incredulously.
“Yeah.” He tipped his chin in a playful challenge.
You sighed and closed your eyes. However instead of proving your point, you walked into Cutup who had stepped directly into your path.
Before you had a chance to protest he firmly grasped your neck, just beneath your jaw and pulled you in for a kiss. You inhaled sharply as your lips collided, his tongue laving your bottom lip before dragging it through his teeth. His kiss was all you could have hoped for and more. His touch was electric, setting sparks alight in your chest. You whined softly as he pulled back, immediately yearning for his touch.
"Sorry, that was my first kiss." You beamed against his lips which lingered over yours.
"I could tell." He chuckled brightly before pressing his forehead to yours.
"I was kidding!" An indignant gasp escaped your lips.
“Hey it’s okay! Baby, you and me could find someplace quiet and practice all night if ya want. I got time,” he cooed smoothly. He cupped your chin, rubbing his thumb across your lips.
You hummed, leaning into his touch. You tilted your head toward your barracks.
Cutup’s eyes widened. “Wait, really?”
“Unless you don’t…”
“Kriff yes I do! Lead the way.” His hand reached for yours, delicately interlocking his fingers with your own. Even through his gloves, you felt the warmth of his hand. It traveled to your chest and bloomed into radiant joy.
I don’t know what those Kaminoans were talking about. He’s definitely from a good batch, you thought to yourself smiling as you walked hand in hand toward your tent by the light of the stars.
Ye Olde Ragu Lyst: @secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @dystopicjumpsuit @mooncommlink @moonlightwarriorqueen @sunshinesdaydream @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @multi-fan-dom-madness @808tsuika @msmeredithrose @trixie2023 @wolffegirlsunite @mythical-illustrator @wings-and-beskar @wizardofrozz @ladyzirkonia @eyeluvmusic21 @523rdrebel @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @isthereanechoinhere96 @littlemissmanga @sinfulsalutations @the-bad-batch-baroness @freesia-writes
#you asked#and the pineapple answered#first kiss#ask prompt#clone trooper cutup#cutup#tcw#tcw cutup#cutup x reader#anxiouspineapple99 writes#clone trooper Cutup x reader#gn!reader
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Sleep Token Wembley Bingo
As promised, here it is: the Wembley Bingo cards of your predictions on what might go down at Wembley. Once again, thank you @fivewholeminutes for the og post!!
There are two versions, Red and Blue. They have the same predictions, but arranged in different ways. Just save the card you want and play along on Saturday! I may or may not have a ~prize~ for whoever completes a bingo.
A lot of the predictions were very similar, so I just combined them to save space. There are a few that have been left off, either because they already happened or for some other reason, and others that make sense for them to still be there - better explanations under the cut (because I don't want to spam anyone's dash):
Predictions that have already come true and have thus been cut off:
TMBTE (song) live debut
New masks/gold motifs for the Vesselettes
Vesselettes being aloud to move/dance
Unmasking (the double mask - I was already thinking of leaving this one out to avoid any possible conflict, so I'm using the Great Unmasking of ii and iv as an excuse)
Predictions that have already come true but are still on the card:
Aqua Regia mix-up - it happened once already BUT it could still happen or not on Wembley, so I'm leaving it, because funny
Better/Bigger stage production - we got the super cool LED logo and amazing lights, but it's still very much possible for Wembley to have something extra/different
Predictions that I have cut off:
Unmasking/Identity reveal (see above)
Siam/Cleo cameo - for logistic reasons and for the snakeys well-being, I think it's safe to assume they won't be present (even though I'd love to see that 🐍)
Ritual starting on time - again, logistics are hard to control and late starts are pretty common. I figured this one was innocuous enough to leave out
iii screaming with a microphone - we don't know if he will be able to be present at all so, this one had to leave. I want you to have a change of getting a bingo!
Live official recording of the show (for a dvd or replay) - Adam Ross has stated a few weeks ago that the band does not wish to have a professional recording of their Rituals, and so an official pro-recording is a bit impossible
Previous tour props, like hats, etc - if we go by the German Rituals, they don't really bring anything over so, very very unlikely to happen
It will be a normal show - while I agree that there's a small chance Wembley will be just another regular ritual, there are a few extra special things that are bound to happen anyways, so in truth, it will never be a truly normal show. (also I needed to cut off one more 😬)
If any of these does end up becoming true, I am contractually obliged to grant you three wishes, so come find me afterwards.
Predictions that have been combined:
New masks/ new paints/ gold motifs/ new costumes - it all falls under the new/upgraded costume slot (although I kept Vessel and the guys separate)
Dancers /silent performances / theatrical elements
Pyrotechnics / Setting things on fire
Fields of Elation/ Sugar/ Telomeres/ The Apparition/ more songs in general - these were the ones most predicted to comeback/debut, so I combined them in the old songs/debut slot
Euclid/TNDNBTG - most people said it would start with The Night and end with Euclid, although I have seen a few variations in order. I kept the most common one, but it's game if on reverse
(Euclid appeared too many times, so that song has a special slot - just as TMBTE album played in full)
Stage props/ Background videos / Bigger lighting
Hozier being present; a Collad or a Cover
Remember, this is all in good fun! Some of these are super silly and fun, others are very likely to happen. What matters is that we all have a bit of fun while emotionally recovering form the London show (because we all know it'll be incredibly emotional!)
If this is not your thing, then that's totally fine too! Above all, let's all be nice and respectful to one another!
💙 Worship 💙
#It's almost time aaaaaa#i hope you make a bingo! Initially i was going to make loads of different cards but it was way too much work#I hope tumblr doesn't ruin the quality!#sleep token#sleep token wembley bingo
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I want to know more about the m9 artist au!! I remember reading a post or two about it a billion years ago (and would love to read them again) 💜
hi jess!!!! thank u for being interested hehe :")
so ever since i drew that lil thing of essek painting a frank stella inspired painting (or even before), ive been thinking of what kinds of art each of the m9 would do. essek ofc is inspired by a minimalist show that i went to here, all the big names from that movement were shown, but those really dark, sinkhole-like paintings are speaking to me. another artwork of boxes made of mirrors also seems like the thing he would do too
there's a kiln here that we visited which was huge, and surrounding it were artists' studios and some other ceramic sellers, i imagine the clay family having a place like this in the middle of nowhere amongst the trees, and caleb would do his work there
anyways because at heart im a shadowgast luver its centred around them,, they meet at an artist residency or something like that and its an incredibly slow burn that involves talking and not-talking and looking and not-looking. in the end i am but a simple wong kar wai fan so. that kinda vibes would definitely influence this, i would describe it as a quiet burning i guess?? time skipy and words that are not said
i think im gonna rant a bit more about their different mediums and styles so i'll keep it under the cut
i think caleb sculpts figures and portraits, but in a sad, kathe kollwitz charcoal vibe. maybe some funky looking animals, perhaps some pots and vases to look at the pretty glazes. he's interested in using fire to burn texture into different mediums, like ive seen it being used on shellac to make a really cool net of ink looking structure.. but yknow, just seeing the aftermath of glazed ceramic from the kiln is enough, and probably better for him to keep his distance anyways
the clay family produces most of the ceramic to sell, vases, pots, plates, cups, teapots, yknow just a whole array. and its really colourful too, depicting every family members different style. i think caduceus would do some matte glazes with a lot of different colours, theyre all a little wonky but theyre better off that way anyways. he does some really mean ink calligraphy and painting though
jester definitely does,, everything, whatever her heart desires kinda thang. she makes pastel textile installations and lighthearted cute paintings, but theyre always so contemplative and soothing. she gets m9 a lot of work cus her mom has connections, etc etc. i really love the idea of jester creating works that talk about the female body and femininity (definitely not projecting no)
beau is a printmaker and photographer who's really experimental, she loves cyanotypes and printing flowers (for yasha), idk she seems like she would put fabric and rocks into the washing machine to see what would happen. u would probably catch her in someone elses studio learning about what they do or in the library learning about what old people did
veth works in a museum as a curator, getting beau to help her sometimes with gathering artworks and artists etc. she probably organises community art projects for kids and public art installations. her house is full of m9's artworks and various other artists shes worked with.
yasha does bouquets as her post-retirement part time job, prior to that no one really knows what she did ("she probably murdered a bunch of people and is now hiding from the government"). fjord draws comics for fun but is also not a job for him, molly is a question mark for me. but these guys probably wont be in it as much anyways
im still not sure what format i wanna do this in, im actually having fun just writing it in my notebook now (digital does not facilitate the creative juices) but i do want to do some visuals like fake movie stills or storyboards. maybe they will work together well???? dunno. working on the other shadowgasty thing im doing made me realise how much easier it is to draw when there's a script already there, so im writing the script for myself
im definitely not as practiced in writing as i am in drawing, but idk im just gonna have some fun and see where that takes me, meanwhile try not to feel too bad that its fanart HAHA (very bad habit)
edit: i just saw my previous thoughts on beau being an art journalist, but i kinda like this better.. but maybe she can do both muah
#working tag for this ->#the kiln#honestly if u had any tips for writing#i'd love to hear..#i was insulted once on my writing and never wrote again HADHSFHF#oh and also emo smoking#that is somethng i want to draw more of
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if you watched steven universe, i'd like to know your thoughts on lapis? ive seen some people say catra is written better than her
i have watched steven universe and i didn't like lapis tbh. i think both lapis and catra are not very different when it comes to character development. however, as far as i remember, apart from trying to drown steven and connie that one time, lapis didn't do anything too heinous. her relationships with jasper and peridot were pretty messed up, which is why i'm glad they didn't make either of those ships canon.
jasper's and lapis's relationship/fusion was supposed to be toxic so it's not really a problematic thing, although i do think they could have addressed the fact that lapis also contributed to the toxicity, rather than painting her as the victim. i do think she owed peridot an apology, she didn't deserve that instant forgiveness from peridot.
anyway, i think the main difference here is that lapis wasn't the main villain like catra was (because, let's be real, catra was the main villain of s1-4, not hordak). she was pretty bad but she wasn't as coddled by the writers as catra was. steven universe was generally bad at redeeming antagonists (with the exception of peridot) so lapis just feels like another example of that. she was not a war criminal and didn't commit atrocity after atrocity like catra did, and she didn't get a happily ever after with her victims. she stayed friends with peridot and didn't seem to repeat any of her toxic habits afterwards, so i'm glad they left it at that. i feel like her redemption was just 1% better than catra's.
#spop critical#spop#spop discourse#spop salt#spop criticism#she ra#anti catra#su critical#su discourse#su criticism#su salt#su#steven universe#i do really really like lapis' character design though#especially her first appearance#it was so aesthetic#honestly when i first watched su i didnt think any character could be worse than lapis or the diamonds#but here we are
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