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bxllafanficc · 3 years

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Matching YSL-bags

Pairing: Damiano David x reader

Summary: You’re a writer coming to your favorite coffee shop to write and have a coffee just like every morning for several months now. Expecting everything to go exactly as it always does, you enter and take a whiff of the lovely scent of coffee and pastries. But had you entered that shop at all today if you knew that nothing would be like every morning leading up to now? Even if you knew in advance that the gorgeous stranger with eyes like melting honey you’d been watching for months would bump into you? That you’d by mistake put the notebook with embarrassing drawings of him in his Yves Saint Laurent bag, the same model as yours?

The doorbell to your favorite coffee shop announced your arrival just as the smell hit you like a wall. You took a deep sniff of the air to make the fragrance last longer and made your way to the counter, following through your daily ritual of coming here to work on your latest novel for a few hours. Behind the counter was the barista, Casey who always took your order and had been doing so for months now. The rhythm of your stay here were so current that you didn’t even say hi to each other anymore, but you just made your way to your usual table at the window and waited for her to call out your order. This was a way for you to ditch the long line of people and get to work immediately.

“(Y/n)! The delivery of your favorite brand of coffee beans are a bit late today. They’re expected to be here in about 20 minutes. Want me to pick another brand?”

“Nah, I don’t mind waiting. I have nowhere to rush off to anyway.” Casey didn’t say what all the other workers thought. ‘As always’ some would snicker and you’d laugh with them. Casey wasn’t much for talking, or being near people overall, which came off as odd considering she worked as a barista at the town’s busiest brewery.

You turned on your laptop immediately and for awhile the sentences just seemed to take form by themselves without you needing to stop and think things through. The chatting from the people in the cafe worked wonders for your need of noise to be able to concentrate. But a particular sound always seemed to bring you out of your place and look up from your novel.

“Mornin’, I’ll have the usual, please.” The browneyed beauty which seemed to be as stuck in his day-to-day habits as you were. A stranger with the face of a god, probably created by them by hand. He always greeted the baristas with a blinding smile every morning to get breakfast. You’d seen him ever since he discovered this place and henceforth, he came here whenever he got the chance. His usual table stood empty, as usual and you’d sneak glances of him throughout the hour he used to stay. Part of the reason you always got to work so quickly was because you knew in advance how distracted you got by the handsome stranger so you might as well push every second of concentration in your favor. After all, you could get in trouble for not writing fast enough but couldn’t bring yourself to change your hours to avoid him. You even used to doodle some sketches of him the times where your creativity hit rock bottom. You weren’t a professional, since you needed a reference to know the proportions but whoever looked at the doodles would without hesitation be able to point out the person you drew. So in a way you were very accurate and took notice to details critical to make the face identical that mostly were gone unnoticed by the eye. You also made doodles of him because you were to scared to take a picture. Not that you were a stalker or anything. Just an admirer of his unreal features, yeah.

“That’d be 6€. Oh and (Y/n), your order is ready!” Casey didn’t return the kind smile of the stranger and you partly felt bad for him since well, Casey never smiled and he gave her the same warm greeting every morning.

You got up and felt your hands getting sweaty as the stranger turned his head to look at you. You’d never been so close to him before from where you stood beside him just mere centimeters apart. He smelled of something mild and sweet with a tint of cigarette. You mouthed a ‘sorry’ to him since you basically interrupted the line. He took no offense though and motioned for you to pay first. You picked up your bag and quickly grabbed at your purse, your notebook with your doodles getting stuck in your grip. You felt hot skin brushing your arm and it made you drop everything you just picked up. The man must’ve raised his hand to his face or something because he looked just as surprised as you when you yelped. You bent down to pick up all the coins and cards falling out of your purse.

“I’m so sorry, I scared you, didn’t I? I’ll help you.” He bent down beside you and put his own bag to the side to use both hands. The heat of his body didn’t have to even be in contact with your skin for you to feel it. In a haze you mumbled something about being alright and stuffed everything in your bag except for your credit card. You payed up quickly and thanked him even though he barely got the time to pick anything off the floor.

Your hands stopped sweating after a big sip of your coffee. You almost downed it completely to stop your hands from shaking too. If you would’ve been anything like your main character in the novel, this wouldn’t even have been an embarrassing encounter. Stuff like that happens. But not when it came to you. It didn’t take you long to realize that your concentration had completely perished after what happened. So you stuck your hand inside your bag reaching for your notebook but found nothing. ‘That’s weird. Did it fall out after I- Shit.’ You thought. Right. It slipped on the floor and you stuffed it in the bag without a second look. But didn’t that stranger have a similar bag to the one you’ve got? You glanced his way and saw indeed the exact same Yves Saint Laurent bagmodell you carried. ‘Good taste- but fuck this is a problem!’ The doodles in there would make you look like a stalker for sure if he found it, which he most definitely would.

You sat restless in your seat for the next 10 minutes trying to come up with a plan of how to not look like a fool while also getting your notebook back. Just asking for it back would be far too embarrassing since your bag wasn’t even close to his when you mistook it for yours. He’d think that you just wanted an excuse to talk to him. ‘So I might as well talk to him then.’ You thought as you stood up and went to his table with absolutely no idea of how you’d approach him.

“Can I sit down?” His striking brown eyes looked up from his phone and caught you off guard. He should be the surprised one, though you were the one getting flustered by how his eyes looked like melting honey because of the sun streaks getting in his face. How pathetic. ‘No, no focus. Step one, just greet him and don’t get embarrassed’.

“Well, hello to you too”, He chuckled and it didn’t take long to realize why. ‘Failed step one’. You’d just asked for the seat next to him without even saying hi. How embarrassing. Heat rose to your cheeks and he gently nodded for you to sit.

“I’m sorry, my body hasn’t digested enough caffeine to make me a function like a human being yet.” It was a miracle that you managed to keep your voice from stuttering and you were thankful when he seemed to appreciate the joke, that wasn’t really a joke though.

“I hear ya. So what did you come here for? You’re usually super busy at this time so it must be important.” His smile was sweet but you began to overheat. Had he been watching you? What for? Did he notice you had been doodling him sometime? But just then your train of thoughts were interrupted by another thought.

“I have seen you somewhere.”

“That’s... why you came here?” You were stunned by his reaction. He must’ve grown irritated by now, right?

“...yes?” It came out as a question and you internally cursed yourself for being so awkward.

“You don’t seem too sure about it?” His smile returned thankfully. He brought his own coffee to his lips and took a sip.

“No, I have definitely seen you somewhere. You look like that serial killer from the news.” That caused him to almost spit out his coffee. You were just about to apologize, pack your laptop and bounce as he turned serious.

“Really? I thought I looked nothing like my mugshot.” His lips pursed and it took a moment for the meaning to hit.

“You’re kidding.” You must’ve looked dumbfounded because he burst out laughing which caused the entire shop to turn their heads.

“Yes, I’m just joking. Was it believable?” It kind of reminded you of a young boy pulling a prank on his friend, the way the stranger looked at you with anticipation. You simply nodded, too embarrassed of every single word you’d spoken to this man so far. This... ridiculously handsome man. Before now you hadn’t really gotten a close look at him. His outfits were always on point but you’d never noticed the set of rings on his hands, for example.

“I’m sorry. My name is Damiano David. I’m the singer of the band Måneskin. That’s probably from where you’ve seen me, right?”

Damiano. What a pretty name. But what- Måneskin. Oh yeah.

“Ah, yeah...” Oh yeah... they won Eurovision, right?

...

“I see- wait oh my god, that’s terrible!” You blurted out without getting a chance to control your mind. You just wanted to sink off the chair and slip under under the table in shame. That’s it, you mistook Damiano David for a serial killer. ‘Might as well switch coffee shop, say goodbye to Casey while I’m at it.’

“Uh... what is?” Maybe you should offer to pay for his breakfast too to make him forget everything.

“I made a complete fool out of myself! I mistook you for a serial killer!”

“Don’t worry about it, Cara Mia. I’ve been through worse.” He seemed genuinely fine about it, though he really shouldn’t have.

“What could be worse than being mistaken for a killer out on the run?” He fell quiet trying to think back, you assumed.

“Well, I guess you’re right. It’s pretty bad. But like I said, it’s fine. It could’ve been worse.” He finished his last sip of coffee before gathering his trash. He’d probably be leaving soon and then you’d finally be alone to sulk.

“Really?”

“Yeah, at least you’re not some stalker who made up this meeting in your head before, just to put something in my coffee. You know, kidnapping me and stuff.” He just never seemed to stop laughing, did he? ‘Well, you’re only half wrong. Wait what am I thinking. I’m not a stalker! I didn’t even know who he was until now!” You nodded and fiddled with the sleeves of your shirt, in desperate need of something to clutch onto before you started laughing hysterically. We’re you losing your mind over a guy? Well he sure was a pretty guy, then.

“I’ve actually gotta go now but I had a really good time talking to you, as weird as it seems. Do you believe in fate? His expression took a readable turn and you tried really hard figuring out what that gaze meant.

“Fate? Yes, why?” He stood up and tossed his bag over his shoulder. Just then you realized what you really came here for and how close you were to failing miserably. You needed to tell him right away the real reason or else... His scent kept you from losing yourself to your thoughts again. Damiano stopped by your side and bent down, his hot breath fanning your ear. Lips brushed your earlobe and he whispered in a husky tone.

“I believe fate made us wear matching bags today; just for you to lose your notebook and force you to finally come over here and start a conversation with me. You know I’ve waited patently, right? Good thing you’re cute or else I might’ve stopped hoping.”

‘What?’

“Call me when you feel like it. I’ll see you tomorrow the same time, (Y/n).” And with that, he handed you the notebook with some numbers you hadn’t seen before; his phone number. He left immediately and the doorbell rang seconds later, alerting you of that you were indeed alone now.

‘What... What the hell just happened?’

#damiano david x reader #maneskin imagine #damiano x reader #damiano david #damiano david imagine #damiano fanfic #måneskin #måneskin fanfic #damiano maneskin #maneskin x reader #maneskin #fanfiction #fanfic

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nadjadoll · 4 years

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YOU GUYS!! ❤️❤️❤️ @denerims @foofygoldfish @firstofficeruna @outranks

I owe you all my entire heart thank you for letting me ramble about these two dorks

long text wall ahead

1. Who is the most affectionate? Neither of them are very outwardly affectionate in public, especially Jason but you get them alone in close quarters and they’re all over each other. Jason in particular loves to give her little kisses or just have her near him because I think he really craves that kind of love. It does take a while for them both to open up to each other initially though.

2. Big spoon/Little spoon? Jason is much bigger than Olivia but he loves being the little spoon most of the time. He’s very physically intimidating and tough but when it’s just the two of them he melts around her and like I said above, he craves her love and attention even if he feels he doesn’t deserve it at times.

3. Most common argument? I think it would be about Olivia going out on patrol with one of the other family members/on her own or just about her getting into dangerous situations in general. Jason is very protective of her like he is with all his loved ones. He’s been injured and near death many many times and he really doesn’t want that for her but he can’t exactly argue with her when she throws that back in his face because she doesn’t want that for him either.

After some training from primarily Dick, Barbara and Tim though Jason feels a bit better about Olivia going and doing those things though he still isn’t very happy about it.

Olivia loves Jason but she hates when he treats her like a fragile little child that needs to be sheltered, she’s been on her own for a long time before he came around and she could take care of herself even before she got her powers.

They never argue for long though they’re terrible at verbally apologizing to each other and instead make up in other ways…

4. Favorite non-sexual activity? Reading together. Whenever they have some time off, they’ll sit in Jason’s place on those rainy days and just read. It’s very quiet and a peaceful change from their often dangerous hectic lives.

5. Who is most likely to carry the other? Jason, he’s much stronger than her haha she tried to carry him once but he’s built like a brick wall and just about as heavy, she couldn’t even get him off the ground.

6. What is their favorite feature of their partners? For Jason, it’s Olivia’s smile. Before she met him and the family, she hardly ever smiled. When they’re together though he loves making her smile or laugh more than anything.

For Olivia, it’s Jason’s eyes. When she really gets to know him, she can read him like a book just by looking at his eyes. They’re her favorite shade of blue and she blushes a bit every time she catches him looking at her.

7. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other? For Jason, it’s an “oh shit” moment and he leaves the city for like a week because he needs to be sure of it and honestly it scares him quite a bit.

By the time they catch feelings for each other, Olivia’s pretty involved with the family and the vigilante stuff so it’s hard for him to avoid her but boy does he try. It obviously doesn’t last long and after a bit of urging from Dick, he accepts it.

8. Nicknames? & If so, how did they originate? Nothing much besides the usual Jay/Liv. Olivia is the only person allowed to call Jason “Jay” too, everyone else gets a death glare.

9. Who worries the most? They worry about the same amount. Jason worries because one of his biggest fears is someone he loves getting hurt which is why he doesn’t let her go on patrol with him for the longest time.

Olivia worries because she’s lost a lot of people she’s cared about and when Jason comes along, it’s like no one else matters to her anymore. So she worries every time he goes out because it seems like Red Hood has a lot more enemies and gets shot at quite a bit more than any of the other bat vigilantes.

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant? Olivia. She’s got a talent for remembering things about other people but absolutely terrible at remembering things for herself. They eat out a lot and everything he likes is the kind of thing she just knows and never really has to think about.

11. Who tops? 🙈

12. Who initiates kisses? Jason, especially if it’s little pecks of a kiss, Olivia gets a lot of those. Except for their first kiss, she can usually always tell when he’s about to give her a serious kiss just by looking at his eyes.

13. Who reaches for the other's hands first? I would say it’s an even mix of both. If they’re in a dangerous situation she’ll reach for him and he’ll shield her without even thinking about it.

14. Who kisses the hardest? Olivia. A lot of people have come and gone in her life so when she gets attached to someone, she holds onto them hard.

15. Who wakes up first? Jason. He’s had plenty of nights with little or no sleep so he doesn’t actually sleep much at all. After he and Olivia start living together though he does manage to get a few good nights of sleep a week.

16. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer? Olivia, when Jason is awake it’s time to get up and go but Olivia is the one trying to persuade him to stay for just 5 more minutes which then turns into a few hours 👀

17. Who says I love you first? Jason, it was one of those times where he just blurted it out without thinking and regretted it immediately. It actually took a little bit of time after that for Olivia to say it back to him in the meantime Jason contemplated how hard it would be to convince Clark to throw him into the sun.

18. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?) If they were ever to have a set lunch they really never do I like to see them drawing dumb little doodles on sticky notes back and forth to each other

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first? This is very sad to say but Olivia has no biological family or friends my poor baby. Jason doesn’t explicitly tell anyone about them getting together but Dick was the one who kind of nudged Jason to go after her after he noticed how he felt about her like the good big brother he is. So when they get together, Dick is actually the one who breaks the news to the family ha.

20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship? The Batfam think Olivia is a wonderful influence on Jason. She gets him to open up a bit more and rounds his hard edges. Dick is the biggest supporter and hugged them both for a solid 10 minutes when he found out about their relationship. Overall they’re all really happy for Jason because they see how happy Olivia makes him. Alfred is the second biggest supporter of them because he remembers just how lonely Jason used to be when he was younger.

21. Who is more likely to start dancing with the other? Jason, he would never let anyone know it but he’s a total romantic dork. When they get to the comfortable part of the relationship, he’s doing all those cute sappy things like serenading her in his boxers just to make her laugh or pulling her in for a slow dance on a rainy day so he can be close to her. It’s worth it to note Olivia is the worst of the worst at dancing but he tries anyway.

22. Who cooks more/who is better at cooking? In my fic Jason lives in Chinatown and with both of their busy crime-fighting schedules, they don’t really get to slow down and cook much. When they do it’s actually usually Olivia with very little help from Jason mostly because he’s absolutely disastrous at it. No amount of teaching from Alfred when he was younger helped that boy, but thankfully Olivia is naturally gifted.

23. Who comes up with cheesy pick-up lines? Jason ha. He thinks of them just randomly during the day. Picture Jason busting a drug deal or something, guns in hand and thinking of pick up lines that will make her laugh later accompanied by an eyebrow wiggle.

24. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times? Jason absolutely. He has far more experience there than she does and it shows, he loves making her blush. Though once she did it back to him and well let’s just say it was almost over right then and there 👀

25. Who needs more assurance? Olivia does need assurance every so often but Jason for sure needs more. He still has quite a shaky relationship with the family, Bruce in particular so he can’t exactly get it from them not like he would ever ask them in the first place though.

26. What would be their theme song? I just found the song If I Killed Someone For You by Alec Benjamin and it’s a total Olivia/Jason song, it’s my favorite song on Olivia’s playlist by far.

Also it’s more of a song for them and the whole Batfam but I’ve always loved Family by Mother Mother and thought it works with Olivia & the whole batfam

“A motley crew, a rodeo A goddamn zoo, a circus show But oh don’t you know how it goes We are all walking each other home”

I can’t look at those lyrics and not think of them I mean come on.

Another choice would be Melanie Martinez’ cover of Toxic by Britney Spears

27. Who would sing their child back to sleep? Omg I can’t think about them having a child that’s too soft for my poor heart

Honestly, I think it would be Jason, he’s definitely not the singing type but I can see him cradling their baby and humming or singing lullabies very softly while Olivia watches from the doorway in tears at how much she loves them.

28. What do they do when they’re away from each other? Worry. A lot. They don’t really like to be away from each other and if they have to, they try to keep it short. Is Jason’s away he will call or text her when he can just to see if she’s alright and if Olivia is away for some reason though she never leaves Gotham, she tries very hard not to think of all the things that could happen to him while she’s away. Her powers do come in very handy if she needs to get to him quick though.

29. One headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart. I feel like even when they’re together, Jason has a hard time loving himself and believing he’s deserving of the love Olivia gives him so in the beginning he pushes her away and from time to time he’s still pretty distant around her. Over time with being together, they begin to heal each other of wounds like that.

30. One headcanon about this OTP that mends it. I’ve mentioned it before in another post about them I think but I have a headcanon that while Olivia is the better cook, Jason does cook for her if she’s feeling down. He usually makes grilled cheeses like Alfred used to make for him when he was younger 😭

#olivia perry #olivia/jason #wow i got this done QUICK #because I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH OKAY #all those asks happened pretty much at the same time so i was like well #time to answer ALL THE QUESTIONS #i loved it though #i could ramble about these two for forever #you get extra points from me if you actually read through all of this #that would mean a lot to me

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reylo-solo · 5 years

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a secret admirer

(rated G; 3536 words)

A Reylo Valentines AU from a cute prompt left by @nite0wl29 where Ben leaves secret Valentines cards in Rey’s locker! Thanks for the prompt, beautiful! I hope you all enjoy the adorableness! Happy Valentine’s Day, reylos! ❤

Read it on AO3.

10-20-30-40.

The lock opened into her palm with one firm pull. Rey slipped it out of its place and pulled her locker door open.

She was expecting to find nothing unusual inside her locker when she opened it, because it was her locker. No one knew the combination to get inside besides her. What else should she be expecting besides the same, small magnetic calendar that was two years out of date, but which she was keeping for the cute photos of kittens? What else, besides the little Polaroid pictures of her and her friends? Or the drawing she’d done of a horse that she was still quite proud of. Or the overdue library books, which were shamefully stashed away in the back, behind her textbooks and binders.

No, she did not expect to find any surprises when she opened the door. And yet, there was one, taped to the inside of her door so that she couldn’t possibly miss it.

A card, hand-made with fine, recycled stationary, decorated with gold leaf accents. Her name was printed in beautifully flowing calligraphy on the front, the ink a beautiful navy blue colour. She gasped as she saw it, and the fact that someone had been in her locker didn’t even hit her, so struck was she by the simplistic beauty of the thing.

Carefully, she pulled off the tape which secured it to her door and, leaning into her locker a little, opened it inside.

The same flawless lettering greeted her, along with something that completely shocked her: a hand-drawn portrait of herself, done in graphite and charcoal. In the drawing her hair was pulled back into her signature triple-bun style, and particular care and attention had gone into adding each freckle that graced the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones. Her eyes were downcast; her lashes, long and dark, casting a shadow over her cheeks. It looked like she was studying something, but there was a hint of a smile there upon her penciled lips, as though she had heard something amusing a minute ago. Whoever had drawn this had watched her intently for a little while. They had to share a class with her, she thought.

The other half of the card’s interior was dedicated to a brief but lovely message, which began quite eloquently with the opening stanza of Lord Byron’s “She Walks in Beauty”:

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heavy to gaudy day denies.

- Happy (almost) Valentine’s Day from your secret admirer.

P.S. I hope you like the portrait. Though it can never compare to the real thing.

P.P.S. You should really think about a more challenging lock combination. That was far too easy.

It took Rey another few minutes before she even began to realize how much her cheeks hurt from smiling. She closed the card and clutched it to her chest. She’d never gotten a Valentine like that before! Or at least, she’d never gotten one that didn’t have a cute bear or cartoon character on it, and those certainly never had romantic poetry included with them.

“Lord Byron…” she murmured to herself.

They must be in my English class. We just covered Lord Byron’s work a few days ago…

But…who was it?

She spent the next two days trying to puzzle it out on her own. This also meant that she had paid little to no attention in her English class since receiving the mysterious Valentine. The entire time her eyes had been secretly jumping around the room, as though she could catch someone staring at her, and maybe doodling in their notebook at the same time…

She ruminated the possibility of it being any number of people, but none stood out to her. She even thought about it maybe being her best friend, much to the detriment of her own anxiety, but then she remembered that Finn can’t draw, and he certainly can’t do calligraphy like that. No, it couldn’t have been him.

It was almost maddening, trying to figure it out. She began to second-guess herself. Maybe the Lord Byron thing had been a fluke. Maybe it was someone in her history class, or math. Maybe it was janitor Bob for all she knew.

Rey was starting to feel down on her luck when she opened her locker between fourth and fifth period and something fell out, gliding down to land perfectly atop her shoes. She bent down to grab it and her heart skipped a beat.

Another Valentine! Written on the same paper! Oh, and the writing is the same…

There was no poem this time; instead she found a personalized message just for her:

Rey,

Still can’t puzzle it out, can you? That’s okay. I’m not giving you very many hints, am I? Maybe I should change that for you. I’m a male in your English class, if the Byron poem wasn’t a big enough clue. We’ve had lots of classes together over the years, but you’ve probably never noticed me before, not like I’ve noticed you.

I saw you looking for me the other day in class, though. You weren’t very sneaky about it, but I didn’t mind. You looked right at me for the longest second of my life, and I thought maybe…maybe you saw it in me, but you didn’t. It’s a good thing – I’d rather you see who I am outside of class anyway.

Speaking of, Valentine’s Day is only a week away. Think you can guess who I am by then?

- Your secret admirer

He had gifted her another portrait. This one was done faster than the other, and he’d left it looking half-finished, but she liked it like that. He’d captured her mid-laugh, with that cheesy smile of hers. He’d even gotten her dimples right. Even though his pencil had spent the briefest of time on this page, he’d created something which Rey thought was even prettier than the real thing.

“Whatcha got there?”

Rey jumped and the Valentine slipped from her hands. She bent fast to pick it up but another hand had caught it before she had a chance. Rose Tico’s eyes widened as they saw the beautiful calligraphy on the front of the card, addressing it to Rey.

“Oh, wow…what is this?” Rose inquired. She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Rey. “You’re already getting Valentines? What am I saying…of course you are, look at you.”

“I-it’s nothing,” Rey excused, trying to grab for the card to no avail. Rose kept twisting away, keeping it just out of Rey’s grasp. “Can you give it back please?”

“Who’s it from?” Rose grinned broadly and opened it up, her eyes hungrily skimming over the message. She gasped. “A secret admirer?!”

“Shh!” Rey demanded, finally swiping the card away from Rose now that she was distracted enough. “Say it a little louder why don’t you, I don’t think everyone heard…”

“I can’t believe you have a secret admirer! That’s so exciting and romantic!” Rose squealed, in a much quieter tone. “Who do you think it is? And am I mistaken, or does that message sound like you’d already gotten one card from him?”

Rey sighed, looked at her friend, and figured she had not one hope in hell of keeping this secret any longer. Besides, she thought, she could use the help figuring out who the mystery man was. So, she dug around in her schoolbag and produced the first Valentine, allowing Rose to read it, provided she keep it close to her person so no prying eyes could look over her shoulder and see.

“Wow…this is beautiful,” Rose whispered. “That drawing is…wow…”

“I know,” Rey said, swiping the card back and stowing it safely away, along with the other one.

“Who could it be, though? He said he was in our English class…”

“Yeah, I have no clue,” Rey groaned. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I got the first card and I’ve gotten nowhere since.”

“Hmm…well, two minds are better than one. Let’s go grab some lunch and Nancy Drew this shit, shall we?” Rose offered Rey her arm, which Rey happily took.

“Let’s.”

The two settled themselves in a secluded area of the cafeteria, safely away from prying eyes or ears. First, they had to remember all the boys in their English class, which took much longer than they thought it would. Once they’d recalled mostly everyone (there were a few relatively new kids whose names they couldn’t remember, and so they were referred to as ‘boy with really thick glasses’, ‘boy who wears the same jacket everyday’ and so on), they began to break it down individually. This too was a little tougher than they had anticipated, once they eliminated all the boys they knew to be in a relationship. They were left with about ten viable options after that, and they had to go through each one and decide if they fit the bill or not.

Rey eliminated four of them right off the bat, either because she couldn’t stomach the thought of them leaving romantic notes for her, or they truly didn’t seem the type to think romantically, let alone write in beautiful calligraphy and make lovely sketches. Then there were a couple who hadn’t said more than one word to Rey since elementary school.

Suddenly, Rose gasped and made a low ‘ohhh’ sound.

“What?” Rey demanded. “What is it?”

“What if…no, he wouldn’t…or would he…?”

“Spit it out, Rose!”

“What if it’s Ben?”

Rey went still. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise but she didn’t move or speak for a moment. Rose was monitoring her reaction with keen interest.

Ben Solo. Tall, dark, with a boyish grin, he was alluring in the most unique of ways. He had thick raven hair and deep, soulful brown eyes; his strong, broad frame was built for endurance and power. But he hadn’t always looked that good. Rey remembered a young, gangly boy, with messy black hair and a pasty complexion, whose ears stuck out a little, running around the playground during recess with his toy spaceships, playing games with his friends.

It had been that little boy who Rey had opened her crying eyes to when she had fallen off the swing and hit her head in second grade. He’d been standing over her, blocking out the sun, and offering her his hand.

“Hi, are you okay? Do you need me to get the teacher?” he’d asked, and his voice had had a minor lisp, because he was missing two of his front teeth.

Rey had sniffed and wiped away her tears, not caring if the sand and dirt smudged on her cheeks. She remembered feeling flattered as she had taken his hand and allowed him to help her up. She hadn’t wanted a teacher to come over, and so he had offered to sit with her for the remainder of recess, until her tears stopped falling. And so they had sat together by the swings and talked and laughed until the bell rang, and by that time Rey’s head had stopped hurting, and she had long ago stopped crying.

“Ben…?” Rey whispered to Rose after mulling it over for a moment. “No…no, it couldn’t be. I haven’t had a real conversation with him since…middle school, I think.”

“So? He seems like the type to pine over a girl,” Rose argued. “You know, I’m sure there’s a proper gentleman beneath that surly exterior.”

“But he has lots of friends. Some of them are girls, even.”

“Again, I ask: so? He’s single, isn’t he?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hm, well, I’m just saying. If I had to bet on it being anyone, I’d bet on him.”

Hmm…

She didn’t receive another card until Valentine’s Day, and even then she didn’t receive it until the day was almost over and she was cut straight through with anxiety.

During that time between card two and card three, Rey had tried desperately not to convince herself that it was Ben writing them to her, but it was tougher than she anticipated. She’d continuously catch herself absentmindedly referring to her secret admirer as Ben, and then she’d proceed to mentally slap herself for doing so. She hated getting her hopes up; she’d had them crushed too many times in the past.

But she was powerless against the idea that it might be him. The thought of him bent over a desk that looked far too small in comparison, his dark locks falling over his brow and tickling the bridge of his long nose, as he penned her part of a Lord Byron poem and sketched her image just made her feel giddy for some reason. It made the cards even more flattering, and she found herself looking at them repeatedly, reading and re-reading their inscriptions.

She also had found herself watching for Ben, something she hadn’t really done before. She’d constantly be looking past someone’s shoulder, or looking over her own, trying to spot him. Every now and again she’d hear his distinct laugh or his deep, warm voice, and she’d stand up a little straighter and fix her hair.

She hated it.

It felt like he had some kind of control over her. Only he seemed capable of making her palms that clammy. She’d find herself getting annoyed at him from a distance. Who does he think he is? Walking around in his dark wash jeans, with his hair all messed up like that, smiling that goofy smile. What have you done to me, you evil, handsome snake…

One of these times, when she was viciously cursing him in her head, her eyes had actually locked with his across the school courtyard. It had just been for the briefest of moments, but in that time it felt like all the sound was sucked from the world and everything around them stopped moving. Rey’s heartbeat hammered in her ears, steady and loud. There was something there, in the space between them. Something visceral and real and tender.

Or maybe it had just been wishful thinking.

And it was that kind of doubt which had fuelled her panic on Valentine’s Day when she arrived to her locker in the morning, after having practically ran the entire way there, only to find no card inside. And it didn’t help when Rose kept asking after every period of she’d gotten it yet, and Rey kept having to answer with ‘no’.

So when she got to her locker, fully exasperated and confused, at the end of the day as everyone else was scrambling to gather their things and get the hell out of there, and found a letter taped to the outside of her locker, she nearly squealed in excitement.

This one was safely kept in an envelope (which she tore open quite quickly). There was no drawing in this one, only an urgent message:

Meet me in the theatre, right now.

She didn’t even put her books back in her locker. She took them with her as she raced past the swarm of bodies towards the theatre at the back of the school. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears and every person who got in her way came perilously close to having their toes viciously stepped on.

This was it, she thought to herself. The mystery was finally coming to a close. She was going to find out once and for all who had been behind all those letters. She was going to see who her Valentine really was.

She braced herself when she got to the theatre doors, taking a deep breath in before pushing them open. Her nerves almost had her trembling.

She walked into a mostly-dark theatre. The only light was a silvery glow angled at the stage, where an old piano sat. Upon its bench was a person, playing its keys slowly and a little awkwardly. Rey didn’t realize she was holding her breath.

Oh my god. It’s him.

The door closed with an echoing click and the piano music abruptly stopped. Ben stood, all six-foot-two of him, nearly knocking the piano bench over in his haste. His eyes landed on hers, all the way across the theatre, and his hands rubbed themselves upon the thighs of his jeans.

There it was again – that crackling in the space between them, like a field of exhilarating static.

“Hi.”

His voice echoed, too; its deep, nervous lull drew her instantly closer. She walked down the aisle towards him, one step at a time, until she had reached the stairs up to the stage. Once there she paused, staring up at him as if she couldn’t quite believe he was really there – and a part of her certainly couldn’t believe that. But the rest of her was internally screaming because, damn it, she knew it!

“Hello.” She said, her voice strangely quiet even to her own ears.

He leaned down and offered her his hand. She appraised it for a moment, her eyes roaming over its lines and freckles, before slowly, temptingly, taking it. Their fingers wound around one another and held on lightly. She took the steps up to join him on the stage.

Suddenly their bodies were very close together. She could feel his warmth and smell his entrancing scent. Her eyes travelled up to his face, and she thought her heart was going to jump from her chest when she saw those deep brown eyes lingering on her; looking at her like they never wanted to look at anything else again.

“So? Are you surprised, or did you puzzle it out on your own?” he asked slowly.

“I…had my hopes up that it would be you,” she answered shyly.

He smiled that incredibly handsome, boyish smile, and it was just for her. She couldn’t help but giggle and smile back.

After a moment, she couldn’t help herself from asking, “Why me?”

“Why you?” His eyebrows raised in surprise. “I thought you’d know.”

She tilted her head, puzzled. “Know what?”

“Ah…do you remember back in like, second grade or whatever it was, when you fell off the swing?”

She blushed. “Yes, I do. You helped me up and wiped away my tears.”

“Yeah, and we spent the rest of that recess talking,” he smiled warmly. “I don’t remember exactly what we talked about…probably silly kid stuff. But, I do remember thinking you were pretty, and that you should never have to cry like that.”

“Even then?” she whispered.

“Even then.”

“Then why…why now?”

“Because…I suck. I spent all these years with a crush on you that I could never move on from and I…I was way too nervous around you because of it. I still am, but I just…well, it’s our senior year, so I thought it was now or never. And I realized I really, really couldn’t stand the thought of it being never.”

Rey hadn’t realized until just that moment that they had been slowly getting closer and closer together. When her chest brushed against his she couldn’t help the gentle gasp she made, or the steady pounding of her heart when he didn’t move away.

One of his fingers brushed a lock of her hair away from her face and she wondered, in that brief moment when his skin made contact with hers, if he could feel the heat he’d created upon her flesh. Did he know what he was doing to her? The undeniable nervousness in his shining eyes said yes, he knew firsthand.

“If I never got to see you like this, if I never got to be alone with you again…I think I’d go mad,” he continued, his voice a softly rasping whisper. “If I never got to kiss you…”

“Then do it,” she begged, daring to place her hands delicately upon his chest. “Kiss me, now.”

His fingers trailed along her jaw as he lowered his lips to hers, and she held his hand there, as she felt the roughness of the stubble on his cheek with her other. His lips were soft upon hers at first, and alluring. He was clearly allowing himself to enjoy every tiny moment of their kiss, and it was so romantic of him, but she couldn’t resist the insatiable pull she felt within herself. She wanted more.

Her fingers threaded themselves into his hair and pulled him closer, holding him there, securing him before her. The feeling of his hand travelling down her side and slipping around her waist almost made her moan. It felt like the world was finally giving her everything she’d ever asked for, and she felt equal-parts thrilled and stunned that it had been right in front of her this entire time.

When their embrace finally ended, they looked at each other through half-lidded eyes filled with stars.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Ben whispered.

Rey chuckled and let her head settle on his chest. His arms wrapped protectively around her and she felt as comforted as she had that day on the playground.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ben.”

#reylo #reylovalentines2019 #happy valentines day #reylo fic #reylo fanfic #prompts #my fic #kylo x rey

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sevenseasofrog · 5 years

Text

Lads ‘n Lasses

pairing: highschool!ben x fem!reader

summary: single sex schools are never boring

word count: 1,661

a/n: second part of the September chapter,, enjoy !!

here’s also some stuff that could make it less confusing (especially if you’re not familiar with lingo from north west england, i’ll probably add to this with each new chapter that comes out :)

St. Mary’s/ Mary’s- the all girls school the reader attends, quite middle class and full of students who like to make drama for their own entertainment, strong focus on languages and arts

Niamh & Maria - the reader’s two closest and longest friends

St. Peter’s/ St. Pete’s - the all boys ‘brother’ school to St. Mary’s, very laddish with a focus on rugby and science

Tram/Met - British version of an overground subway?

Shout - another word for a houseparty

Snide - unfair

Swear down - saying you are telling the truth

Chapter 2

The day went by fairly quickly without too much bother, you were mostly collecting new textbooks, discussing the course outlines and meeting your teachers for the year’s classes; so the workload was relatively light. You ate lunch outside, careful not to stain your white blouse with grass, and after lunch, you were given time to study in the library, not that there was much to study quite so early on in the term however, so really you just spent the two hours messing about, doodling and having hushed discussions with Maria and Niamh. What you didn’t mention however was the fact that you spent a solid chunk of this time scrolling through Instagram in an attempt to find any profile which could potentially belong to Ben. Eventually, you found it, and were washed over with a sense of relief followed by panic. Panic that you were becoming some sort of obsessive stalker, Christ, you’d only spoken to him for an hour that morning but were beyond convinced that there was more to Ben than you originally believed. These thoughts were rudely interrupted though by the school bell signaling the end of the day, which you welcomed with open arms. You peeled yourself off the chair which you had been sunken into for the past two hours and began to pack your bag, waiting for Maria and Niamh to do the same.

The three of you made a relatively slow exit out of school, continuing to discuss the events of the summer gone by and your hopes for the coming year. The sun was peeking through the leaves of the trees, which were still a luscious green and the air seemed to be filled with a strange nostalgia of summers gone by. Making your way towards the gate of St. Peter’s you stopped as you heard a voice.

“Oi oi, Fancy seeing you lot eh?!”

You stopped and were greeted by Lewis, he had been a long time friend who you loved dearly. As a friend, however, and unfortunately this feeling was not entirely mutual between the pair of you. He was always laid back and could have you in a fit of tears without trying, he had always come off as a bit of a jack the lad too, popular and well liked by everyone he met, as well as a cracking guitar player.

“Nice to see you too stranger!”, you shot back. Living considerably further away from school had never been too much of an issue. That was until you made a decent set of friends with people who cared about you however, and you had gone the last two weeks of the summer holidays relatively isolated- enjoying the peace of your own company. Three was now four, and you eventually reached the gate, where you were somewhat relieved to find Ben waiting for you.

“I was beginning to think you’d abandoned me” He looked up from his phone and gave a nervous smile, noticing that this time you were accompanied by a crowd.

“I would never!” You dramatically threw your arm to your forehead fake shock. “Honestly! one of you back me up I’m too nice for shit like that!” Turning around to see your friends looking rather amused.

“No! I believe that!” Ben threw his arms up in defence, “It’s just that it somehow took you nearly 15 minutes to walk no more than 200 meters down the road!”

“We’re slow walkers sometimes, Ok! we were gossiping about y’know…. girls n stuff!”

By this point the other four people around you really were looking at you with amusement smeared across their faces.

“y/n… did you know that you somehow manage to make yourself look like a real tit at times?” Niamh really was finding this whole thing a bit too funny, especially since she was quite to fast to catch onto the idea that you were eager to get to know Ben more.

“Right then, let’s go, I don’t really feel like hanging around here any longer…” Lewis spoke, “Tram?” he questioned.

“Tram”, everyone responded.

The walk with the four of you went extremely quickly, you had introduced Ben to everyone and he had instantly clicked into place with your friends. When you reached the platform Maria, Niamh and Lewis announced that they had to buy tickets, and swiftly made their way towards the bartered machines, once again leaving you and Ben alone together.

“You didn’t really think I would have left you did you?” a slight tinge of worry ran through your voice.

“Nah, I really can tell you’re not a bad person, well, not bad enough to abandon their new bestie at least!” He cracked a laugh, and a wave of relief passed over you. “Plus, it’s not like I don’t have your number… I could always have just terrorised you for the rest of time if you did”

“You cocky bastard!” You retorted, the pair of you smirking at each other. When the other three returned, you noticed how nicely you seemed to gel together as a group, and it was most rewarding to see that Ben had found a friend in Lewis after such a short space of time. When it arrived, the pair rugby tackled each other onto the tram, Ben nearly sweeping the taller boy off his feet, since Lewis had much more of a slender build, and was certainly skinnier than Ben, who almost appeared as a physical opposite. You had one boy with his blonde hair lightly gelled into a coif, while the other had a mousey brown, floppy bowl cut, and frankly looked a lot like he had stepped out of an Oasis gig in the 90s. You all found seats and continued with your chatter, the focus of the conversation mainly on Ben’s past life in Bournemouth, all of you asking questions and joking much more like a group of lifelong friends, rather than a few misfit teenagers and a newbie who most of them only met half an hour ago.

The time eventually came for the others to disembark the now quiet tram carriage. Maria and Lewis first, followed by Niamh a few stops later, leaving you and Ben alone yet again.

“It’s only like 4 more stops until we get off so you don’t have to put up with me too much longer.” You spoke, noticing the silence between the pair of you.

“Nah, you’re alright, I can cope with you for that long I reckon”, he looked up from his phone. “You managed to find me on instagram pretty quickly though” He flashed a grin.

“I’m not a stalker I swear down I just was really bored since I have double study every afternoon only I had nothing to study and no art coursework to do..” You blurted, failing to notice Ben’s ears prick up at the mention of art.

“So you’re an ‘artiste’ then?”

“Well, of sorts, I’m not amazing or anything but I like it enough to carry on doing it at school” Slightly embarrassed by his interest in your work, you ducked your head down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You are such a bullshitter oh my god! these are amazing!” Oh God, He was now scrolling through your instagram page, waving his phone in your face displaying a drawing you had done over summer.

“C’mon then y/n, what other secret hobbies do you have, we’ve only talked ‘bout me today and I literally don’t know anything about you other than that we get on at the same stop, where you go to school and that you genuinely are amazing at art…” It was nice to see that he seemed genuinely interested in you, and wasn’t as self centred as some of the other boys from St. Pete’s that you had spoken to.

“Sorry to disappoint Benny Boy but art’s all I really do, unless you could class going out and about as a hobby, but a mon humble avis, I don’t think it really counts”

“Hm, I’m not so sure, there’s definitely more to you, I know it. I might be blonde but I’m not ‘that’ dumb”. With that, the both of you were laughing again, and the silence that was seemed more of a distant memory.

The slow moving metro eventually reached your stop and you both hopped off, making your way towards the stairs off the platform.

“So, are you walking or getting a lift home or…” You trailed off, unsure of where to go next.

“I’m walking, I live just off Harbour Road. Yeah. Pretty sure that’s what it’s called” He announced, re-adjusting his bag slightly.

“Coool beans my guy, I’m basically at the top end of it so we’re heading the same way”

“Looks like I’m gonna be seeing you more often than I bargained for then eh?”

“It does appear that way, your observational skills are just superb” You spoke, dragging out the the final word for comedic effect.

Another 20 minutes of walking later and you eventually reached the front pathway of your house.

“Well then, this is my stop. Not gonna get lost without me are you?” You announced with a grin.

“I’d like to think I’ll manage” He spoke, stretching his arms up into the warm autumn air.

“See you tomorrow then yeah? Meet me here at 7:15?” God. Please say yes, you prayed internally

“See you tomorrow at 7:15” Ben replied, giving a final smile before turning on his heel and continuing down the road.

You unlocked the door and were greeted my your Mother, and following this continued your evening as normal, all thoughts of Ben pushed to the back of your mind and forgotten.

That night however, although you did not remember when you woke up the next morning, dreamt of a boy with beach blonde hair and electric green eyes. Blissfully unaware of the waterfall of emotion and chaos he was about to install into your life.

hope you enjoyed !!

let me know if you want adding to the taglist :)❤️

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arplis · 4 years

Text

Arplis - News: Dad Finds His 14-Year-Old’s Comics Funny So He Decides To Post Them Online, And People Are Praising His Humor

14-year-old Jake has been drawing a new comic on the whiteboard on his bedroom door every single night. The talented teen’s comics are charming, funny, and they’ve already won over a large chunk of Instagram and Reddit. “Drawing is both a talent and a hobby of mine so comics are always fun to do,” Jake told Bored Panda about what keeps him drawing every day. “The main motivation, however, is the fact that over 10,000 people love my comics. I always try to have something ready when it’s time to post a comic, and I take my time to make sure they’re excellent.” Scroll down, upvote your fave Jake’s Door Comics and read on for our full interview with both the creative and disciplined young artist and his supportive father David. And keep an eye (or two) out for Jake’s first book which should come out by Summer’s end. More info: Instagram | DoorComics.com | Twitter | Facebook | Reddit #1 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #2 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #3 Image credits: jakes_door_comics Jake told us all about the origins of his viral comics. Like lots of great things, it started out with something done entirely for fun. “I always liked drawing little comics, but I haven’t really done anything with them until 6 months ago when the social media page started,” Jake said. “It all started when I watched a movie about a spelling bee that inspired me to make a ‘word of the day’ for my family to see. So I got a tiny whiteboard my dad had, put a hook on my door, stapled some twine onto the back of the whiteboard, and hung the twine on the hook. I wrote a word of the day for a while, but finding an interesting word every day got harder and harder until I gave up and l left the whiteboard blank.” However, the teen soon found other uses for the whiteboard. “I occasionally doodled on it and made comics sometimes (out of boredom), some of which my dad loved. My dad took pictures of them, and once we got around 50, my dad asked for permission to put them on an Instagram page. I was reluctant at first, but I gave my dad the green light to put the comics up. The page got 10,000 followers in two days, and I drew comics on the whiteboard more frequently. And that’s how it all began!” #4 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #5 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #6 Image credits: jakes_door_comics The 14-year-old also revealed what it’s like to draw his comics behind the scenes and let us in on his secret to coming up with great daily content. “It usually takes around five minutes, sometimes longer because of my hand erasing the comic while I draw (markers are not the most effective drawing tool). My dad usually gives me critique on the comics so that can take longer, too.” However, coming up with new ideas is much tougher than drawing them “Ideas are more complicated. My main source of comic ideas is my overactive imagination. I’ll have an idea for a comic, think, ‘Hey that’s actually a good idea,’ and write it down on a sticky note for future use.” #7 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #8 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #9 Image credits: jakes_door_comics He continued: “If that fails me, a good idea generator is ‘What if…’ For example, what if... ...you divided 0/0 on an experimental calculator? ...your fridge was, literally, running? ...a man hated puns so much he would kill over it? ...you played a sport with a ball filled with enough helium to make it fly? ...there was way too much caffeine in someone’s coffee? ...people noticed that whatever they say comes up in a speech bubble above their heads?” Jake said it’s a great method for generating comic ideas, especially when he’s running low on them. #10 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #11 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #12 Image credits: jakes_door_comics Meanwhile, Jake’s dad, David, says that his son has impressed everyone with his art, insight, observation, and humor. “Every night, he would draw something funny on his whiteboard, and I recognized how awesome they were. But the drawings would simply get erased and drawn over so I felt I needed to preserve them somehow. The easiest way was to just take a snapshot with my phone, and decide what to do with it later,” David said. “Eventually, the comics got funnier and funnier, and I decided I needed to post them online—if nothing more than to preserve them. I thought one day he would look back and see how creative he was at age 14.” #13 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #14 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #15 Image credits: jakes_door_comics Jake was reluctant for his dad to upload his drawings onto Instagram at first but gave in. “Things kind of took off from there,” dad David said. He explained that the main goal of this whole project was to unleash his son’s creativity. “Throughout this whole adventure, the goal was only to let Jake be creative as he wanted to be, and if it made people smile—then that was a bonus. The fact that over 20,000 people now have followed him on Instagram and Reddit is pretty mind-blowing, but as his dad, it doesn’t surprise me. He’s quite an amazing kid.” #16 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #17 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #18 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #19 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #20 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #21 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #22 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #23 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #24 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #25 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #26 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #27 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #28 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #29 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #30 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #31 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #32 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #33 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #34 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #35 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #36 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #37 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #38 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #39 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #40 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #41 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #42 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #43 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #44 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #45 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #46 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #47 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #48 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #49 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #50 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #51 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #52 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #53 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #54 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #55 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #56 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #57 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #58 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #59 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #60 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #61 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #62 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #63 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #64 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #65 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #66 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #67 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #68 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #69 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #70 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #71 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #72 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #73 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #74 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #75 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #76 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #77 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #78 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #79 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #80 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #81 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #82 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #83 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #84 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #85 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #86 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #87 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #88 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #89 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #90 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #91 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #92 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #93 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #94 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #95 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #96 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #97 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #98 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #99 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #100 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #101 Image credits: jakes_door_comics #14-year-oldArtist #Comics #HomepageFeatured #Bp-exclusive #ComicsOnBedroomDoorWhiteboard

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/dad-finds-his-14-year-old-s-comics-funny-so-he-decides-to-post-them-online-and-people-are-praising-his-humor

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elf-kid2 · 7 years

Text

Megamind Soulmate AU

When you write something on your arms, the marks appear on the arms of your soulmate as well. This is known: the soul-bond does not begin at birth; it is only possible with both souls have reached a certain level of maturity. No one knows what triggers the bond; it is not restrained by distance, by language, by contact... but everyone knows that a soulmate is true love, however improbable it may seem.

Some people develop the mark as young as 14; others begin to find their Soulmate’s marks on their skin when they’re in their 20′s; some never get a mark at all. In some countries, people bare their arms openly, to better show their art and facilitate the finding of the soulmate (who will of course match). In most of the northwest hemisphere, especially the United States, baring one’s arms in public is considered extremely taboo, even obscene: a cultural norm born of cold weather, left over from outdated arranged-marriage traditions, and puritanism.

Megamind never wrote or drew anything on his arms. There was no point: if he had ever had a soulmate (which wasn’t guaranteed) they had no doubt perished young, lost to the black hole with the rest of his homeworld.

He was never more surprised than the day he discovered a line of colors (black, white, pink, red, yellow, purple, orange, green and, when he looked closer, a shade of blue close to that of his own skin) on his left arm while getting dressed one morning. His first thought was that it must be a bruise- except that he hadn’t hit himself, it didn’t hurt, and the tidy, circular segments of colour didn’t actually look like a bruise at all. His second thought was that he must have spattered himself with paint, except that he had been in the Lair, wearing long sleeves and gloves, and he hadn’t been anywhere near the paint in three days. His third thought was that he needed a plan.

Roxanne Ritchi was not obsessed with finding her soulmate. She didn’t worry, as some did, about ‘missing her chance’ or She did not decorate her arms with new doodles every day the way some of her friends from middle and high-school claimed to, nor did she spend an excess amount of time or thought looking for a new mark and trying to determine if this or that dot was a freckle or a drop of ink-- but that’s not to say she wasn’t interested.

Every year on her birthday, Roxanne would take out a box of special colored ink-pens (given to her by an aunt for her 15th birthday as a right-of-passage type thing) and draw a multicolored pattern on her arm. She is careful to make bright, clear lines and use a variety of colours-- both light and dark-- because she’s heard too many stories of people missing their chance because they used a shade of ink to close to the color of their Soulmate’s skin, causing the marks to go unnoticed.

The day after her 22nd birthday, Roxanne woke up to find that her right arm was covered in black ink. (Was her soulmate left-handed?). Near the wrist was a pattern of tiny, unfamiliar symbols arranged in a spiral. Below that, a set of Chinese characters. Then a message in arabic. Then a question in German, then French, then Spanish. Finally, close to her shoulder, she could read the message: How did you survive?

She found translations for all of the marks except the ones closest to her wrist: How did you survive?

It took three weeks of communicating at cross-purposes before Megamind figured out that his Soulmate (who was, as it turned out, english-speaking) was in fact native to planet Earth. He felt... The realization... It felt like losing his people all over again. It hurt. He’d known, of course, that even if she (they had confirmed each others pronouns within two days of establishing communication) was also interested in starting a family, one couple was not enough to rebuild a population, even with cloning technology. He also knew that it was probably-- safer-- for both of them this way; the world was not kind so a solitary blue alien, and he could very clearly imagine what people would do if they saw more. An alien was an oddity; Aliens were an invasion or an infestation to be destroyed with extreme prejudice for the good of all humankind. He and Minion had been stockpiling weapons and improving security at the Evil Lair since the soul-bond had appeared, for just that reason. Part of him, some small, cursed part of him, was actually, secretly, a little bit relieved.

Roxanne wondered, sometimes, about his first love. Reading between the lines, Roxanne could tell that he’d initially thought that she, his Soulmate, was a certain childhood sweetheart or previous girlfriend who hadn’t been heard from since died in some sort of accident or natural disaster years ago. It was fairly common in this day and age for people to date before they made contact with their soulmate, and really it would be silly to be jealous of a girl who had died, but. But. Roxanne wondered if she would measure up to her Soulmate’s first love, the girl he had lost. She wondered if they would still have been soulmates if the other girl hadn’t died, or if she would have ended up alone. But there was nothing to be jealous about.

Mostly, it hurt. He was alone on this planet, he and Minion were completely alone hear, and when they died all that was left of his planet, all that was left of his parents’ legacy, would die with them. He had known that for years, but having hope, having a chance and then feeling it ripped away once more in the cruel hands of fate made the facts all the harder to bear. Furthermore, Megamind had somehow become Bonded to a human. She would expecting someone of her own species, probably hoping for someone tall and square-jawed, with good hair and lots of money. What if they met, and she couldn’t stand to look at him? What if she was horrified, or angry, or disappointed, or scared when-- if they met in person?

Roxanne had asked, a few times, about meeting in person, but each time he wrote a note saying that, for now, it was impossible. She understood, really, she did. Based on their first communication, where he had asked How did you survive? in so many languages, she suspected that he was from another country (most US citizens were not bilingual), and though he wrote in English fluently enough, perhaps he was less comfortable with the spoken language? In any case, if he lived in another country, it could take a lot of time and money before he was able to visit her, or before she was able to visit him. She understood.

Roxanne gave him her phone number instead.

When she gave him her phone number during one of their "evening chats” (sessions in which they would lock themselves in their rooms and exchange notes, sharing jokes, doodles, poetry, and little incidents from the day with the sort of ink that could be easily washed away to make room for more notes), he wasn’t sure what to do. She had a Metro City area code. Megamind hadn’t expected that. He knew he’d mislead her, allowing her to believe that he lived overseas in some far-away country, but he hadn’t actually expected to find out that they lived in the same city.

He wondered who she was

Two days after she’d written her own phone number on her arm (two days of worry and nervousness, because what if really he didn’t like the sound of her voice, what if she said something wrong when he called, what if he never called at all, what if he didn’t ever want to see her, what if...), Roxanne got a text message from an unlisted number: “My Queen, shall we continue our correspondence?” She blushed, smiling in delight: this was how her Soulmate liked to ‘greet’ her in their evening chats. Now they could send messages anytime... and now that she had his number, she could call him.

“Ollo?” She’d called when he was in the middle of building a weaponized tunneling vehicle (the name was also in the works). Somehow, he hadn’t expected her to call

“It’s me. I mean, this is Roxanne Ritchi, I mean... can you spare a minute to talk with your Queen?” she’d called during her lunch break, on an impulse, and she hadn’t planned on telling him her name, hadn’t planned on what to say at all, hadn’t thought that maybe there was a time difference and he was at work or asleep or something, but... she’d wanted to know what his voice sounded like.

“I always have time for you,” he said, making his voice low and smooth. “So, my only Soulmate, did you say you’re name was Roxanne?” He already knew her name of course; he’d tracked her down almost as soon as he had her number. But being able to talk to her, being able to say her beautiful, luscious name outloud, to her...

“Roxanne Ritchi,” she said. Gah, she loved his voice; she should have called him ages ago. “I’m an investigative reporter with the KMCP8 Newstation. What’s your name? What do you do for a living?” It was hard to believe they’d been bonded for months, yet she still didn’t know his name.

“I-” how was he supposed to answer? “Roxanne, I--” How was he supposed to tell Roxanne Ritchi, the smart, witty, beautiful reporter, the woman who had twice discovered his Evil Scheme early and had to be taken hostage, who he’d seen flirting with his most hated rival following both those occasions-- how was he supposed to tell her that her one and only Soulmate was a (skinny, blue, big-headed, short, freakish) notoriously unsuccessful Super Villain?

“I’m really not that interesting,” he whispered. “And Roxanne, my love, I’d much rather talk about you.”

“Come on, don’t tease,” she giggled. “I told you mine, so you tell me yours. What’s your name?” He’d drawn this out as long as possible. He could try to delay again, make it last a little bit longer, but sooner or later she would get sick of waiting; sooner or later she would figure it out.

“My name is Megamind,” he said, his voice holding more confidence than he felt. “Incredibly Handsome Criminal Genius and Master of All Villainy. Roxanne will you-- do you still--- wont you be my Queen?”

“Is this a joke?” Roxanne demanded. “It isn’t funny!” “It’s no joke,” her soul mate Megamind the voice on the other end of the phone replied. “...If you don’t believe me, you can look at your left wrist.”

“I will!” she grabbed her purse and stormed to the privacy of a stall in the Lady’s Room to role up her sleeves. (She was angry, but she wasn’t about to get undressed in public.) There on her arm, in the same handwriting her soulmate always had, was the message. My name is Megamind.

They met in person for the first time that very evening. It went infinitely better than Megamind thought it would.

It went about as well as could be expected.

He wondered if she wished that he were human. She wondered if he wished she were blue. He wanted to know what she thought of his career. She wanted to know why he chose it. He wanted to give her nice things. She wanted to give him a home. He hoped that she would get along with Minion. (Soulmate or not, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she couldn’t.) She delighted in the thought of how her family would react if when she took him home for Thanksgiving. He offered to conquer the world so that she could truly be Queen. She offered to help him rework his PR until he didn’t have to fight the world.

They kissed for the first time that night.

It was... wonderful.

The debate continued on if Megamind should give up Villainy, or if Roxanne should become his ‘Partner in Crime’.

In the end, both were happy with the decision.

They were married three months later-- after what Megamind described as a torturously long engagement. Roxanne’s family felt that it was scandalously short-- but since they were hoping the groom would die in a lab accident before the wedding, they don’t get to vote.

Roxanne and Megamind Ritchi went on to do great things together. (One of their greatest achievements was successfully creating-- and doing an unusually successful job at maintaining-- a happy family.)

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this-ginger-has-no-soul · 7 years

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Ocean soldier (Part 2 out of?)

(A/N): I seriously love mermaid Bucky *sobs*

Summary: (Y/N) happens to come across a rather friendly mermaid

Warnings: none for the time being?

Read the first part: X

(Tags at the end)

(This gif has me feeling so many things??)

You had been reluctant to go home that day, you had thoroughly enjoyed your visit with Bucky. The two of you talked...well you had done most of the talking while he sat there in the water and looked at you, occasionally grabbing the pad and pencil to write something to you. You had even managed to get him to crack a smile, not one of the small ones from earlier but a full on wide, toothy grin. It had been adorable...at first, that was until you got a glance at his sharp, jagged teeth. They almost reminded you of shark’s teeth only scarier given they were on a human being and not a marine animal. Something about this guy was seriously off, you knew that much, between the webbing and teeth and the constant need to stay in the water you had figured he was...strange to say the least. These should have scared you away, you should have run as soon as he appeared the second time but you didn’t, instead you sat down on the docks and talked to him until he had to abruptly scurry off at the first sign of people. These were all red flags, you should have talked to someone or reported this man to the police and yet again you didn’t and now here you were, the following day sitting on the dock awaiting for your friend to appear.

You doodle a bit, no longer focused on the sunrise as much as your water loving friend who had yet to make an appearance this morning. You gently sketched a face, one with a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones, you doodle some hair, long and matted with water but still gorgeous but what you truly focused on was the eyes. They had to be perfect, they had to capture the essence of curiosity and innocence but they also had to have a deeper, darker tone to them, one that implied this man- whomever he was- had a secret, or a darker side.

A soft coo is what pulls you away from your drawing but you don’t even have to look up to know it was. You set your drawing pad aside as you smile at Bucky who smiled right back, showcasing those jagged, knife like teeth.

“Hey Bucky,” You murmur quietly, as though scared to break the soothing sounds of the early morning sea. Bucky hums softly as he assumes his regular position, his head tucked upon his folded arms as he looks up at you. Your eyes rake over his form, stopping at his neck as you survey the slices of flesh, moving in time with each breath he took. They sure as hell looked like gills...but that- that wasn’t possible, human beings couldn’t have gills...could they? Bucky hums again as he looks at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. Guess he’d caught your rather curious gaze “Sorry, um uh- I was just staring at your-” You gesture to his neck, sighing rather loudly. “Okay Bucky, what the hell are those things?” Bucky reaches up with a webbed hand to touch the skin, running his fingers along the ripped flesh before setting his hand back against the dock, looking rather sheepish. “Oh god Bucky-” You sigh, knowing you’ve offended him again with your ignorance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just-” You gesture to your own neck, revealing the not ripped flesh. “Mine’s different again, see?” Bucky looks back up, his blue eyes traveling over the expanse of your neck. “Do you...do you wanna touch it?” Bucky nods as he leans up a bit, pulling himself up just enough to expose his bare chest. Your eyes rake over his skin, taking in ever piece of smooth, water covered flesh. God- this man...or whatever he is- was beautiful.

Bucky makes a little impatient sound in the back of his throat, making grabby hands at you when he realized he couldn’t quite reach your neck. You smile as you lean down a bit, allowing his cool hands to graze your skin. The feeling was...different than expected; his fingers were cool to the touch and most definitely wet but they felt good against your skin. You hum softly as Bucky touches your neck, feeling the difference between your neck and his own.

“See? Different right?” Bucky purses his lips and nods, staring down at his own body in what appeared to be shame. Whatever was below the water he obviously didn’t want you to see, the most he had exposed to you was his upper body and even that was strange, you could only imagine what it looked like down below. “Bucky?” You whisper, biting your lip as you contemplate whether the question was worth asking. The man hums as he finally retracts his hand, apparently satisfied with his little inspection. “Can I ask you something kinda of...personal?” Bucky looks at you with squinted eyes, the distrust on his face obvious but nonetheless he nods. “Um, are you- are you human?” Bucky looks up at you with an almost frightened expression, his eyes wide and lips parted. But before you can even begin to repair the damage he disappears, ducking down below the surface just as he had done yesterday. “Wait Bucky!” You cry out as you lean forward, searching the waters desperately but there was no sign of him, the only thing that would have hinted that he was here was by the way the dock was covered in rivulets of water, most likely from his dripping hair.

You slump back onto the dock, looking at the waters in surprise. How could he have just disappeared like that? And why did he just disappear like that? You bite your lip in thought as you scan the waters, waiting for any sign of your new friend but there seemed to be none. Even after five minutes you saw no sign of your friend, then ten rolled around, then 20, then 40, but by the time the beach had started to sprout a family or two you realized Bucky wasn’t coming back. You sighed softly as you stood from the dock, grabbing your sketch pad and pencil in disappointment. As you waddled away from the dock you looked back, hoping to catch some glance of your friend but there was none, only the boats and sea so with another sigh you keep on waddling, trying not to let your spirits hurt too much.

You returned the next day, with your sketch pad and pencil, awaiting for Bucky. You waited for 3 fucking hours. 3 hours of just sitting and waiting for Bucky to show up. The sun rose, the people arrived and yet here you were waiting all alone on the docks.

You sigh as you drag your pencil along your paper, creating nonsensical lines and scribbles. It looked as though Bucky wasn't going to show this morning and you couldn't help but feel like it was your fault but you'd remedy this, you'd get Bucky to come back around.

For the next two weeks you kept up the same routine, showing up with your sketch pad and pencil, waiting for your strange, water loving friend to show but he never did. The countless hours you spent on those docks waiting for him were painful, they have you time to think about him. Even if you had only known him for 3 days you couldn't help but feel attached to him and now suddenly he had disappeared. And yet here you were, the third week, and still sitting on the dock waiting for him. This time you had brought your guitar and you were gently strumming on it, humming a solemn song yourself. If you were going to wait out here for hours on end for your non existent friend to show up you had better bring something to entertain yourself since drawing wasn't doing it for you anymore.

You strummed and plucked multiple songs, slowly but surely making your way through every tune you knew how to play. By the time you were done your fingers were aching and the sounds of the beach had gone strong; It had to be noon by the time you finished and surprise, still no sign if Bucky. God- why would he just leave you like this? Why wouldn't he come back or at least tell you why he had left? Perhaps it was you? Maybe he was tired of you and didn't want to see you anymore? Perhaps your insistent questions had angered him?

A million questions swirl around your mind until you can barely think anymore, your head to jumbled with "maybe's" and "what if's". God- you had really fucked this up. For once you actually liked someone and then you went and fucked it up. If only you had kept your mouth shut, if only you hadn't been so annoying, if only you could have been better. Tears burn at your eyes and before you know it you're crying, your tears sliding off and hitting the watery docks. You were so pathetic, you knew a guy for 3 days and then he leaves and you're this heart Broken? You bury your face in your hands, crying into them like some pathetic cry baby, which you were; The negative thoughts don’t mix well with your already strong feelings of frustration and regret.

Your crying is only spurred on by your negative thoughts, both your frustration and self hate brewing together to create the 'beautiful' mixture of tears you were experiencing right now. And that's when you hear it, a gentle but soothing coo amongst the sound of ocean waves and the distant beach goers. You don't even want to look up for the fear of the noise only being your imagination but suddenly there's that strange but pleasant hand on your leg, gripping your leg gently. The coo comes again, this time a bit louder and persistent, almost as though Bucky was trying to grab your attention. Even with all your frustration and anger you look up, sniffling a bit as you do.

"Bucky..." You sniffle softly, hesitantly meeting the man’s gaze. He coos once again, his bright blue eyes very intently looking at your face. You bite your lip as you look at him, feeling even more pathetic than you did before. You can’t look into those ocean eyes any longer, your shame and embarrassment getting the better of you as you turn your head away from him but before you can there’s a gentle hand on your cheek, wiping away at your tears. You look back at Bucky in surprise, his hand feeling pleasant against your own wet cheek. This the most Bucky had ever touched you, other than when he had touched your neck and hands but this was- this was something else; this was more than those observatory touches, this was something more intimate. You sigh softly, allowing your eyes to flutter close as Bucky’s thumb runs over your cheek, collecting each tear that fell- however they don’t remain closed for long when they’re suddenly shooting back open in surprise.

“Please don’t cry...”

@kaitlynmalikisnotonfire, @alienboi3299, @rejecteddesire, @saradi1018, @jessevans, @floral-and-fine, @notsoprettykitty, @yo-yo-bro-bro, @imamoose, @nobody8990, @softwhispers, @ficbucket, @iamwarrenspeace, @ruby-rose89 (If I have forgotten to tag you please contact me so I can add you!)

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #Mermaid Bucky #Mermaid Bucky x reader #captain america #captain america imagine

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meganambers · 6 years

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“People that don’t know me for some reason think that I am some intimidating bitchy person because of the way I look or because of the way that I don’t smile a lot and they don’t try to get to know me as a person before making that judgment.” – Madeleine Paris

Dufault with her boyfriend Jake at a vendor sale

Between spending time with her boyfriend Jake and working part-time as a Janitor of a doctor’s office, 19-year-old artist Madeleine Paris Dufault sets the time to create beautiful artwork for her budding clientele. From a very young age, Dufault reveals that she has always been the type of person to be interested in art, whether it would just be a doodle or a painting. Dufault credits her artistic and music-based family for her love and appreciating for art, “My dad actually has a huge file of all my artwork from when I was younger. I would say that the first actual painting that I saw from myself was from when I was two years old.” The artist also shares that her boyfriend Jake also gives her the critique she needs in order to be the artist that she is today. “I am only thankful for it because he is very very honest with me and I never take it in the wrong way because I know that he knows how to deal with this stuff. He [also] has been into American traditional tattooing, a lot longer than I have, so I’m down to listen to what he has to say because there are different ways for people to look at things.”

Madeleine’s painting at 2 years old.

There are many things that the Massachusetts native have in common with her boyfriend, and one of them is being a fan of American traditional tattooing. Inspiring 90% of her artwork, Dufault shares that American Tattoo artist Norman “Sailor Jerry” Collins, and U.K. Tattoo Artist/Painter Cassandra Frances, are two of the many artists who she looks up to for inspiration for her own pieces. “I’ve followed a lot of people that are in the style of art that I like. [However] a lot of them live far away from me. But I would say that 90% of the inspiration for my artwork stems from traditional tattooing, but I also do the occasional realism art. I still enjoy painting realism pieces. And when it comes down to things that are not of tattoo style, I would say it’s most of the time, the color palettes that really grabs my attention.” The choice of colors for her work plays a major role in whether a piece is completed or not, particularly because of Dufault’s choice of art tool, ink. “You can go from the spectrum of the lightest pigment and just add water,” Dufault states as she explains the benefits of using ink. “and have between 50 shades between one another.” Ink, a tool Dufault calls “the most powerful of all art supplies“, has a multipurpose role for her art pieces, including outlining, shading and background coloring.

When Dufault isn’t losing “grasp of the real world“, spending hours alone in her home art studio, she is listening to the latest releases of Toro e Moi or Tame Impala. She reveals that within the last few years, she grew a huge appreciation for badbadnotgood, an instrumental band. “I never had like a crazy appreciation for instrumental music. But now that I’ve been listening to more of that kind of stuff and it’s really inspiring to me. I’ve actually have been looking to buy a saxophone.” Growing up in a middle-class home with parents who were respectively fans of BB King and the Dixie Chicks, Dufault relies on her love for all genres of music and the artwork of her favorite artists when she gets hits with a creative block. “Usually I would listen to a lot of music and scroll through all of my favorite artists’ work. I try not to go any days without doing any art because I feel like I have to keep up with my skills. I like to [try to] create something every day, for at least 20 minutes [a day].”

Dufault in her art studio

Life as an artist for Dufault has not always been an easy one. From receiving criticism from family, strangers and even a moment of severe cyberbullying, Dufault continues to push through with her art as she sees fit. Although she doesn’t use her platform to comment on current social and political issues, Dufault remembers a time when she created a piece in honor of the former US president Barack Obama, and the disapproval that she received on social media.

“The one piece of political art I ever have released was the one that said “I miss Obama” (laughs) and I got quite the negative feedback on that from my family on my Facebook page. And that’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen, but if I was to expect it from anyone it wasn’t my family. But it got to the point where someone was commenting, “If you want to see Obama, let me puke in my toilet and I’ll show that to you”, and it was just unnecessarily rude comments and I don’t need some feud going down on my professional business page. I posted a piece of art that I think is true to what I believe. I’m not posting it with the expectation of everyone agreeing with me, I was just posting it from an art aspect. I wanted to show people that I am capable of doing a portrait of a male subject because I usually draw women. But it was taken to a more personal level with my family which is why I probably won’t do very much artwork like that in the future, but I do want to speak out against stuff like that.”

“Sometimes people don’t know me on a personal level, and I feel like some part of that is good and some are bad, because there are things that someone can learn about you that–say someone was following me on Instagram and I posted about how I was really upset about all these things going on with the gun control and how people trying to change the gun laws. However, my beliefs [were] the complete opposite of theirs, and they had such a strong belief about this. And they were so passionate about this subject and the fear of them seeing that I had a different opinion from them could turn them off from wanting to support my artwork anymore. So to a certain extent, I do let people know my opinions on social and political issues, but at the same time I try and keep more of the controversial stuff to myself because I wouldn’t want it to negatively affect my business in any way or make someone not want to support what I do.”

Dufault doesn’t let the negative criticism that she receives from her art deter her from following her dreams. Naming her creativity as an outlet for her emotions, she also shares that it brings her a lot of happiness. “It’s a way for me to get my feelings on paper or canvas and it’s getting back to me. While I’m doing that it’s just the sense of happiness and doing what I feel like I’m best at.” Dufault reveals that she often looks back at past obstacles (bad family and personal relationships, mental health issues) and find comfort in how much she has progressed as an artist. “I would have never thought that I would have progressed to be the artist that I am now. Throughout the years of going through high school, going through shitty relationships, dealing with bad family relationships at home and mental health issues, [painting] helped with whatever feelings I was going through at the time. And by the time I finished working on whatever I was doing, I always feel so much better.”

“To be remembered” is the most important thing artists want to accomplish with their art. Art that lives on forever. Dufault is no different, however, she wants to also be remembered as someone who never gave up on their dreams. She continued to pursue her life’s purpose even when people told her “that it wasn’t going to work out”. It wasn’t until five years ago, the artist started to take herself seriously and consider herself a professional artist. “I would say I started taking myself seriously in 2013, about 5 years of considering myself to be like a professional artist, in terms of being proud of my work and thinking that it was something that was worth selling to someone. Thinking that I could see my art in galleries.” Dufault knows that being an artist is not easy and staying true and charging according to your worth is not easy as well. But she offers advice to those who are following in her footsteps as a commission-based artist.

“You definitely want to figure out what you see your art and your brand representing. The thing that took me the longest was figuring out what kind of art that I wanted to make, which I am not saying that every artist has to stay within one style or genre of art. But what I am saying is that when you start out as a freelance or commission artist you really want to let people know what you enjoy doing and what your strengths and weaknesses are. I have had such a long journey of figuring out, ‘Am I just going to keep my business name, Maddie Dufault? Am I going to change it into something really confusing that no one is going to know how to spell?’ I did that too and it was really a bad idea. I finally realized that using the professional version of my name was the best idea because overall, the time that I’ve had my business open I found out that it is best to keep it simple. You definitely want to know what you want your work to represent, and the type of audience you want to attract to your work.

Give yourself time to realize what it is that you want to create and put out into the world and make sure that you are 100% proud of it and you want everyone to know that that’s what you made, what you stand for and it’s what makes you happy.”

To keep up with Madeleine Paris Dufault and stay updated on any new artwork releases or to buy any pieces from her, you can follow her at the links below.

Twitter: Art by Madeleine

Instagram: Art by Madeleine Paris

Website: http://www.artbymadeleineparis.com/

Up-And-Coming Artist: Madeleine Paris Dufault "People that don't know me for some reason think that I am some intimidating bitchy person because of the way I look or because of the way that I don't smile a lot and they don't try to get to know me as a person before making that judgment.

#american traditional tattoos #badbadnotgood #Barack Obama #bb king #cassandra frances #madeleine paris dufault #Mental Health #norman collins #norman sailor jerry collins #president barack obama #sailor jerry #tame impala #tattoos #the dixie chicks #toro e moi

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arplis · 4 years

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Arplis - News: Dad Finds His 14-Year-Old’s Comics Funny So He Decides To Post Them Online, And People Are Praising His Humor

Arplis - News source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Arplis-News/~3/U-HgeTkTx34/dad-finds-his-14-year-old-s-comics-funny-so-he-decides-to-post-them-online-and-people-are-praising-his-humor

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