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[artgalleryofindia]

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[seonghwaddict]

ateez fic recs!

🧸 lilo’s notes! here is a collection of works that i loved and thought everyone should read! works marked with a bear emoji are some of my favs. i’ll be updating the list, of course. this list contains both sfw and nsfw content, minors please interact accordingly.

hongjoong

he’s kinda hot — @ohmyamor

“After a decent run with your boyfriend, you finally decide to end it when his paranoia becomes too much. Except, maybe he wasn’t crazy. And now you have demon who refuses to leave you alone.”

demon!hongjoong, fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, please see content warning before reading, suggestive

lilo’s notes! i absolutely love demon!atz aus and i can testify that this is definitely one of my favs. everything about this was absolutely fantastic and i may or may not revisit it every few weeks

you’re hongjoong’s bias — @jnginlov

“when you and your group go on idol radio to promote your latest comeback, you don’t anticipate one of the hosts to be completely enraptured by you”

idol au, fluff, gn!reader

lilo’s notes! listen… idol aus are usually not my cup of tea (though several fics on here prove that wrong), but this is absolutely one of the cutest things i’ve read.

seonghwa

new horizons — @fivestar-outlaw

“Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.”

completed series, FLUFF, idol!hwa x nonidol!fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! EEEEEEE THIS FIC IS SO CUTEEEEEE

🧸 honest (but happy) accident — @ad0rechuu

uni student!hwa, gn!reader, fluff, slice of life

lilo’s notes! y’all are gonna get so sick of me cuz you’re gonna see multiple of zero’s fics on here. jokes aside, this is genuinely so fucking cute i was rolling around and giggling while reading it.

🧸 12:25 time of love — @jaehunnyy

kindergarten teacher!hwa, mom!reader, meet cute, fluff

lilo’s notes! imagining seonghwa in a job like that genuinely makes me so soft. whenever i’m in that Emotional mood i like to read this.

🧸 impressionism — @hwaightme

“a post-graduate student specialising in impressionism, you were a regular visitor to the many art galleries in the city. who knew that among the paintings you would encounter your favourite, timeless work of art?”

vampire!gallerist!hwa x art historian!gn!reader, fluff, soulmates

lilo’s notes! as an art history nerd, this fic is so beautiful especially when combined with a vampire au like AHHHH some of my fav things in one fic

yunho

early hours — @honeyhotteoks

“you run into him in the hallway of the hotel, it's late and you're exhausted from the concert, but he thinks you should grab a drink and you can't help but agree”

idol!yunho x nonidol!fem!reader, one night stand, nsfw, some fluff

lilo’s notes! HDJSJDJSJKF the way this had me glued to my phone and giggling should be studied.

🧸 principia and opticks — @bro-atz

“you're struggling with a specific class that's required for your major; but, luckily, your professor, professor jeong, has no problem helping you out outside of class” // “you and professor jeong yunho decided to continue your relationship secretly, only to almost get caught one day”

professor!yunho x student!reader (legal), nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! don’t judge me but i think professor x student (COLLEGE. LEGAL.) is such a good trope it’s always gonna have me running laps around my room.

bottle service — @bro-atz

“all yunho wants to do is fuck the bottle girl's brains out.”

big dick!yunho x small!afab!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! i have nothing to say for myself other than size kinks are hot. even more so when it’s related to yunho

christmas dinner — @a1sh1teruu

“it didn't just end with one dinner.”

ceo!yunho x secretary!fem!reader, fluff

lilo’s recs! THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR ME AGHHHHHHHH i love it so much i think about it at least once a week

🧸 summer nights — @honeyhotteoks

“he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves.”

roommate!yunho, nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! i reread this yesterday and realised there’s a sequel. TRUST i will be devouring that as soon as i can

track 3: cyber sex — @highvern

whipped loser!yunho x camgirl!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! STOPPIJDIDJ yunho was so cute and shy in this i wanted to scream into a pillow

yeosang

🧸 lessons in intimacy — @honeyhotteoks

“you didn’t mean to actually meet the man who’s audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do”

camboy!yeo, nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! absolute perfection this was so sjsjjcjsjd i could feel myself slowly losing my mind

evolve — @nebulousbrainsoup

“more often than not, a life lived in Night City is carefully crafted, slotted firmly between preapproved lines—or it is if you value keeping it. whispers of freedom float just beyond the city's neon lights, and it's only through a chance encounter with the most unlikely of characters that you finally start to hear them.”

biker!yeosang x fem!reader, fluff, nsfw, some angst

lilo’s notes! despite it being 12k words i gobbled it up in a single sitting which is crazy tbh, it didn’t feel that long at all and i was so invested

san

🧸 prelude in e minor — @bro-atz

“your brain tells you to focus on your education, but your heart tells you to focus on professor choi”

professor!san, CELLIST!san, nsfw, angst

lilo’s notes! back at it with the professor aus yupppp y’all know me so well. i felt so many emotions while reading this i thought i was gonna go insane.

mingi

🧸 slowly, i’m going down — @yutasbellybuttonpiercing

“mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice or mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.”

college au, tutor!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! not only was this written so well, but it was so fucking entertaining. mingi is just so silly in this i love it.

angel eyes — @binniesbang

“Yunho teases Mingi when he trips over his words infront of a girl, he needs a little loving to make it better:((“

coffee shop au, fluff, comfort

lilo’s notes! AHHHHHHHH sobbing crying screaming this was so cute and soft i love this mingi

🧸 untitled — @teasteeper

“kissing practice with your best friend mingi”

best friend!mingj x fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! GRRRSGHDJDJD OH MY GOD mingi you ain’t slick at all- anyways, my turn when?

wooyoung

ribbon — @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

“You just love Wooyoung's dick, and maybe you wanted to make it look pretty like it truly is.”

daddy!wooyoung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! they be fucking but somehow it’s so??? cute?? really enjoyed this one 10/10

spiderman! — @cherrysoojins

“being spider-man comes with a lot advantages, but those advantages can have their disadvantages. like jung wooyoung not being able to show up to study groups to be able to see the girl he’s crushing on big-time.”

spiderman!wooyoung, smau + written, fluff, angst, crack. ongoing(?) series, last updated: july 7th, 2023

lilo’s notes! this was actually such a cute and fun fic and i really wished there were more chapters :c

backstage rockin’ — @a1sh1teruu

“after a late night of practice with the band, and with you lounging in the background. when his friends finally left, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself any longer.”

bandmate!wooyoung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! i think this was THE fic that awakened my love for bassists, that’s how good it was. zerda’s writing always has me giggling

jung wooyoung’s superpower — @ad0rechuu

best friend!wooyoung, fluff fluff fluff

lilo’s notes! ik i’ve probably said this a lot but this is ACTUALLY one of the cutest fics i’ve ever read i adore it so much

🧸 i’m just bein’ curious — @teeskz

“in which your friend wooyoung invites you over for a movie night”

pervy best friend!woooyung, nsfw

lilo’s notes! it’s short but if i said this didnt awaken something in me, i’d be lying. i reread it this morning and that’s what made me start this rec list

jongho

🧸 adorable — @i-luvsang

frenemy!jongho, gn!reader one bed trope, fluff, comedy

lilo’s notes! AHHHHH I LOVE RIA’S WRITING SO SO SO MUCH fluff by ria is genuinely so djdjdjsjd it’s got me giggling

untitled — @nateezfics

nsfw, fluff

lilo’s notes! i’m sorry but idc if they’re going at it, it’s so cute and soft?? they’re just so silly

multi

🧸 milky way — @ad0rechuu

“It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else…”

fanboys!hwasangi x idol!reader, smau + written, fluff, angst, suggestive, slow burn. completed series, 60 chapters + 3 different endings

lilo’s notes! i will never not be grateful that this series exists. it’s funny, cute, and angsty and i absolutely love it with my whole heart. i think it’s one of the first fics i read on tumblr, so it’s really special to me + i think this was part of the reason i got close to my lovely zero

🧸 blurred lines and lies — @yuyusuyu

the synopsis is really long

best friend!yeosang x fem!reader x best friend!jongho, love triangle, romance, slice of life, angst. completed series, 10 chapters + 2 different endings

lilo’s notes! words cannot describe how i felt reading this but i think it’s comparable to going through every stage of grief possible plus more. genuinely, one of the best fics i’ve ever read

strawberry mocha — @pirateprincessblog

“your favorite café has a new barista, and he seems oddly familiar, especially when you see his hands move when he prepares your favourite beverage”

barista!camboy!wooyoung x fem!reader, ft yunho, nsfw, angst

lilo’s notes! my thought process while reading was a cycle of “oh my god” and “what the fuck” in the BEST way possible. the writing is so good i wanted to reach through the screen a smack some characters, and hug some others

clair de lune — @atzfilm

“you’ve finally gotten the chance to enter “clair de lune”, a infamous night club to see the band hiraeth. but why did you feel like their eyes only watched you?”

yandere!ot8 x fem!reader, angst, fluff, nsfw. completed series, 8 chapters.

lilo’s notes! so iconic. if you haven’t read this, you better and that’s a threat.

murphy’s law — @atzfilm

“according to murphy’s law, everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Black holes circle each other until they collide and merge, a cataclysm so fierce, sends ripples soaring through the fabric, crossing thousands of kilometers within a fraction of a second, leaving behind a wave on the space-time continuum. That’s the simplest way you can describe meeting him. And yet, even that is an understatement.”

alien!ot8, multi x fem!reader (not ot8), soulmate au, fluff, angst, nsfw, check other warnings. completed series, 5 chapters.

lilo’s notes! another iconic fic by an iconic writer, we love to see it

mists of celeste — @hongism

“Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you.”

space pirate!ateez, multiple pairings, angst, fluff, nsfw, check other warnings. ongoing series, 49 chapters + additional content

lilo’s notes! i’m pretty sure everyone on tumblr who reads atz fics has seen this one at some point and it definitely deserves its hype. this is probably one of the best, well thought-out fics i’ve ever read and i believe it can definitely be considered better than many published books

🧸 hotel california and paradise gardens — @mint-yooxgi

“You can check out any time you’d like, but you can never leave.” // “Eternity means nothing if I don’t have you.”

yandere!demon!ot8 x fem!reader, horror, fluff, angst, nsfw, check other warnings. complete fic, 42 chapters combined

lilo’s notes! yeah i reread this every few months and i’m not ashamed to admit i’m obsessed with it.

outlaw miniseries — @hongism

individual parts for each member/unit, nsfw with a side of fluff and angst. ongoing series, 4/6 chapters

lilo’s notes! hi no i won’t shut up about hongism i think ive read everything she’s published and if i didn’t want to make this list diverse i would’ve just put a link to her masterlist and called it a day. seriously, highly recommended. my fav on this is the 2ho one.

from storm to sunrise — @ad0rechuu

“you and your boyfriend yunho wake up to find your other boyfriend mingi no where to be found”

fem!reader x bfs!yuyu and mingi, fluff, mild angst

lilo’s notes! zero try not to write something i’ll fall in love challenge, go! oh no you already failed because everything by user ad0rechuu is a masterpiece

🧸 hooked — @songmingisthighs

“A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your ‘relationship’ led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you?”

ot8 x fem!reader, smau + written, college au, fluff, crack, nsfw. completed series, 91 chapters

lilo’s notes! this is also one of the first fics i read on tumblr!! it’s definitely one of my all-time favs and it’s just such a fun read

🧸 unconventional first encounters with ateez — @bluehwale

ot8 headcanon, fluff, humour

lilo’s notes! i also reread this occasionally, the humour tag really is accurate

hongwooho — @yourfatherlucifer

idols!hongjoong, wooyoung, jongho x fem!reader, nsfw

lilo’s notes! the first time i read this (and all the times after that) i was giggling and rolling around on my bed. this kind if scenario is something i’d LOVE LOVE LOVE to see more of

sway with me — @luvt0kki

“former noble turned space pirate, wooyoung was now part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next. the ship was their home, his home… and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet. // but he hasn’t met one person of the crew… and he didn’t know that.”

ot8 x fem!reader, space pirate au, nsfw, fluff. ongoing series, 5/?? chapters + 1 interlude

lilo’s notes! i gobbled the posted chapters up in a single sitting and it was honestly sososo good 10/10 recommend. i can definitely see this being added to my favs as soon as it’s done!

🧸 ¡arriba! — @teeskz

“being a bookworm, you’re used to your regular schedule of simply studying, eating, oh, and the occasional sleeping. it isn’t until one night, you find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time, and soon get swept up in one of the craziest games you’ve ever heard. in hindsight, maybe you should’ve declined. but it was only supposed to last for one night. one, dirty night.”

hongjoong, yunho, san, mingi, wooyoung x fem!reader, college au, nsfw, part of a series (“T!TS UP”)

lilo’s notes! NO YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND I WAS GAGGEDDDDDD the way i had to pause multiple times to cool off while reading this it was so hot and something i didn’t know i needed in my life until i found it

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Flu Season.

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Mentions of Guns, and Imprisonment.

[I have a fever. Excuse the self-indulgence.]

It should’ve been enough that you’d just been kidnapped.

Dragged into the storage closet of an art gallery you could barely afford to visit, bound and gagged and blindfolded, the barrel of a gun shoved into the notch underneath your diaphragm as a man with slicked-back hair and a woman in a wine-red suit walked you out of an obscured backdoor and into a windowless van, already stocked with haphazardly packaged paintings and sculptures. It was just business as usual, the woman had explained, as if that would make you feel any better. They’d keep you as a hostage until attention died down, sell off the stolen artwork, and drop you off on the outskirts of the nearest city, alive and unharmed. As long as you didn’t put up a fight or get on anyone’s nerves, you’d walk away just fine.

Or, mostly fine, at least. Really, you had to be the unluckiest person in the world.

It wasn’t enough that you’d just been kidnapped by some shady, hyper-violent gang of thieves.

You had to get kidnapped, then come down with a cold.

Or the flu. It might’ve been the flu. You definitely had a fever. You couldn’t take your temperature, but you could feel those tell-tale chills, the splitting headaches, the constant pull of an exhaustion no amount of sleep would’ve been able to sedate. Your throat was raw from coughing, your head pounding and your tongue permanently dry, but you’d resigned yourself to nursing the lukewarm glass of stale water you’d gathered the strength to get for yourself more than a few hours ago. You barely had the energy to stand, but it wasn’t as if you could ask your kidnappers to wait on you. They seemed begrudgingly tolerant of your presence – vaguely amused at best, mildly annoyed at worst. It was safer not to draw any attention to yourself, even if that meant suffering alone for another few days.

Another sudden chill, another knot of ache in the back of your skull. You shuddered, pulling the small pile of blankets and quilts you’d amassed that much closer. The abandoned mansion they’d chosen as their temporary lair was an awful, drafty structure – all rotting wood and dirt-caked windows and thin walls that did nothing to keep out the winter air. You’d holed yourself up in one of the countless decaying bedrooms, but even the surprisingly clean king-sized mattress offered little consolation. That, paired with the holes in the walls, the layer of dust coated over every surface, didn’t make you feel very—

Your bleary thoughts were cut off by the sound of your bedroom door creaking open, of quiet footsteps approaching the spot where you laid. You shot up on reflex, but that immediately proved to be a mistake – a jolt of pure agony racing from the nape of your neck to your temples and settling in the space just behind your eyes. Cursing under your breath, you buried your face in your hands, doing your best to block out the light and soothe the sudden pain, but you didn’t have much time to console yourself. The intruder had already reached your bedside, the plush mattress dipping under their weight as they settled into your space. You spared them a withering glance, but once again, that only seemed to make things worse.

For whatever reason, the thieves’ leader himself – Chrollo, if memory served – had seen fit to pay you a visit.

And just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse.

You stiffened, pressed your back into the dilapidated headboard, did what you could to make yourself look small and unremarkable without giving him the impression that you were meek enough to go down without a fight (despite the fact that, if worst came to worst, you probably would). For what it was worth, he didn’t seem hostile. If anything, the expression written across his face was one of pleasant neutrality – a slight smirk paired with a distant look in his eyes, like he had a million things to do and whatever he’d come to you for barely ranked on his list of concerns. When he noticed you were looking at him, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Rather, he only lifted the hand furthest from you, bringing a nondescript plastic bag into your line of sight and placing it in front of you gingerly, as if he was leaving a hunk of raw meat in front of some exotic beast.

It was only when you failed to react that he started to explain himself. “I heard you were sick.”

Fuck. And you thought you’d managed to fly under his radar.

“I… I think it’s just a cold.” Because colds were safer than flus, easier to recover from and only half as contagious. Because they were less likely to decide you weren’t worth the effort it’d take to keep you around if you just had a cold. “I should be alright in a couple of days, but if you think we’ll need to move before that—”

“Oh, no, it’ll be another week or so before we move on. You'll have plenty of time to recover.” He spoke casually, as if they weren’t wanted fugitives. As if you weren’t a bargaining chip for them to flaunt in front of the police if things went south. He gestured towards the bag, his grin growing just a little wider. “Let me know if I missed something. I tried for variety, but I can make a second trip if you find that your needs haven’t been met.”

Hesitantly, you took up the bag, dragging it into your lap and pulling it open. The contents consisted of what a friend might’ve brought over after you’d missed a morning lecture to a particularly bad hangover. Mineral water, tissues, brand-name painkillers and generic cough medicine. There were a few sporadic add-ons, too – chocolate bars, two bracelets with matching broken clasps and a silver wedding band, a miniature teddy bear that’d clearly been plucked off of a Valentine’s Day clearance rack, but you choose not to linger on those any longer than you had to. Honestly, you were just glad not to find any bullet casings or disembodied extremities. “One of nen’s many silver linings. Once your body surpasses a certain point, illness tends to be more of a peripheral hazard than a daily inconvenience,” he went on, as you rummaged through the bag. “I’m a little out of practice, but hopefully, this will suffice.”

You weren’t exactly sure what he was talking about, but you did your best to nod along, only letting a small portion of your confusion shine through. None of this made sense, none of this was anything you’d ever thought to prepare yourself for, but when he finished, you scrambled to respond, as eager to please as he seemed to be to soak in your praise. “Thank you. It’s perfect, I—” The air hitched in your throat, and anything you might’ve said broke down into a violent coughing fit, only somewhat stifled by the back of your hand. He was still staring at you, when you found the strength to look toward him again, still wearing that fucking smile. Something quirked inside of your chest, and you turned away from him sharply. “I appreciate it, I really do, b-but I’m not sure what’s going on, and I don’t want to disrespect the— your—”

“The Phantom Troupe,” he finished. “My Spiders.”

“Right. That. I don't know how to deal with that.” You shook your head, letting out a slight sigh. “I’m sorry, I don’t really keep up with the world of high-class art theft.”

“Oh, we steal all sorts of things. Art, antiques, the occasional organ.” He paused, then seemed to brighten, his tone taking on a kind of childlike eagerness. “A few years ago, a buyer I’m closely acquainted with was interested in amassing a collection of teeth from notable living figures. It was a dull job, but it paid well enough, and my group made the most of it. We're very versatile.”

There was another chill, this time with a source other than your smoldering fever. You wrapped your arms over your chest, shrinking into yourself, but if Chrollo cared about how reflexively you pulled away from him, he didn’t seem to think of it as a mistake that couldn’t be corrected with a breath of a laugh, a slight tap to his knee. “Come here.”

It wasn’t a question, a request, but you considered refusing for one brief, delusional second before ignoring your better judgment and moving towards him – gradually, at first, as slowly as you were able to, until you’d gotten just a little too close and he was able to lash out, to snake an arm around your waist and pull you against his chest. There was a low chuckle, a hand brought to your cheek before it was used to brush the hair away from your face. He held you like that for a long moment – tucked against him, fingers tangled in your hair, his lips ghosting over your forehead – before his grip slackened and his hand fell back to your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. “Poor thing,” he muttered, his voice muffled by your skin. “You’re burning up.”

He let you go as quickly as he’d taken you up, unraveling himself from you and rising to his feet. There was a click of his tongue, a new lilt to his smile, and when he spoke, he did so with a certain lightness – as if he was playing a role he’d spent just a little too long preparing for. “I’ll make tea. Try to get some rest while I’m gone.”

You waited for him to leave, but he didn’t move, didn't look away from you. With no small amount of trepidation, you turned your back to him, lying on your side and drawing the tussled blankets over yourself.  That earned a hum of approval, but you didn’t let yourself so much as breathe until you heard his light footsteps, until the bedroom door groaned closed and you were left alone with only the impending knowledge that you wouldn’t be, for very long.

At least things couldn’t get any worse, right?

[kvothe-kingkiller]

I'm not the best writer when it comes to writing convincing essays or whatever, but I'm going to give this a go because it's something that I've thought for a long time that I've never seen anyone really acknowledge unless I bring it up first. (also I am sick and don't really want to do much editing here, just rambles, so good luck)

I think that when most (not all, but most) people get salty about 'modern art', they are not salty about the things people think they are salty about. When they say "this isn't art", theres an important bit that they're not articulating. What I think most of them mean is "this isn't art that should be in a museum." "this isn't art that should cost this much" "this isn't art that should be getting this kind of recognition". And there is a huge difference between that and just saying "this isn't art"

Firstly, all of the arguments about why modern art is in fact art straight up....don't apply. They don't address the problem, they don't answer the question. This isn't really anyone's fault per se, given that it is addressing the literal statement, it's just I think most people aren't actually thinking that literal statement.

So then what do they really mean? Like I said, I think they're trying to articulate why they're frustrated that this art is in a museum when "they could do it". So when you say "okay then, you do it" that doesn't address the core issue, which is "but why is this getting recognition for it, and I would get none" because yes, unless they are famous, they would get Zero recognition for it. Nobody would be lining up to buy their art, no one would ask to put it in a museum. Best place they can hope to have this displayed is a fridge door.

When you look at a piece of fine art, most can see the amount of effort put into it. They see how much training it took to get there, they see how much time it took to put those strokes on that canvas and they can go "yeah, that took skill, that took effort, not everyone can do that. it deserves recognition". And a lot of modern art does take skill, it's just skill that isn't easily noticeable to the average viewer, such as rothko's color fields, they do take a lot of skill and effort, you just can't see it if you don't know. But a lot of modern art that people complain about isn't something that has skill that's not recognized, it just requires very little technical skill at all (not a condemnation, btw).

When you're talking about something 'anyone can do' that piece's value is often not a recognition of skill, or even of the message, it's a recognition of a name. It's similar to having a gucci bag because it's a gucci bag, not because you care remotely about the bag. Yes, art isn't displayed because of how much effort went into it, but it's a huge industry that many many people are making money through from sheer name recognition alone.

Like that one painting of that one artist's (I forget which artist and my cursory google isnt finding it, but also its just an example) where it got replicated and sold to a bunch of people for a large amount of money so they could all have something that had a small chance of being a genuine painting by the artist, that's an excellent example of the fact that a lot of the gallery-level art world is Entirely about the name, not about the piece itself. If someone just made that painting but didn't say it could be from the artist, then who cares?

If you go to ringo starr's art website (https://www.ringostarrart.com/) then you can see that some of his work, especially his older work, is of that category of stuff that many people would say "I could do that" to. For instance, these two? 1,400 and 6,000 pounds respectively for a PRINT of these from his website

....okay this one I kinda enjoy.

but still. 2,000 pounds for a print.

All of this is possible because he's ringo fucking starr, he can sell his paintings for whatever he wants. If I tried to sell those for that much, I'd be laughed out of the room. All of it is just clout, it's just how big your name is and how much you can use that as leverage.

This is not to say that other forms of art don't also have this issue, they do, especially with people devaluing creative works so much today. But you could probably get a few commissions if you sell realistic art or do commissions of people's characters, while you Cannot get any money trying to sell stuff like ringos art unless you already have an audience who will buy it.

This does somewhat lead into a discussion of how art curators pick which artists are 'good' somewhat arbitrarily, but that's a whole other post.

Doing art for 'yourself' vs for other people or money is also a whole other post, one which I've actually seen quite a lot on here. But suffice to say if your response to all of this is 'just make art for yourself! Why do you need recognition?' then maybe go find some of those posts. It's not bad to want recognition, and it's not bad to question why that guy is getting much more recognition for the exact same thing you're doing just because he has a bunch of rich friends who are able to host fancy parties and go 'hmm. yes this is good art.' (not that all modern artists had rich friends, but they did almost all get Extremely lucky in some shape or another that led to them now being widely accepted as good artists).

You cannot make a living off modern art unless you're well known, and if you happen to be well known already, you could likely make a living off modern art without having any experience, and that's what a lot of people hate about modern art, even if they don't articulate it. While some would, most wouldn't say "my five year old could do that" to someone's personal piece that they made themselves and hung up in their home, or that their friend made and gave to them. They say that about the pieces bought for thousands of dollars or millions of dollars.

And I don't want people to think that I do hate modern art, I don't (though this is tumblr, so I'm pissing on the poor just by writing this). I don't hate any of the famous modern artists, I don't think modern art isn't art. I do hate the industry that says their art is suddenly worth something just because some rich fuckers somewhere decided they should be, and anything I tried to do in a similar vein, original or not, would be better suited to sit in a coffee shop and continuously marked down and never sold.

So next time you say "so why don't you make it", maybe ask yourself if you would buy it.

[an-au-blog]

Artist Usopp who has the most vivid dreams of Sanji ever since he can remember, this mysterious blond growing alongside him in the unconscious world. So he grows up, goes to art school, gets his degree, and starts the path of a starving artist. Not a lot of people buy his art, but he keeps making it. He never liked showing the overwhelmingly large collection of sketches, paintings, 3D prints, carvings, clay figurines, literally anything he could make of Sanji. It felt too personal to show anyone, but people would inevitably see them, as he can't stop doodling the man. They keep saying that's what he should be promoting as his work and how people would pay big money for those, but he always doubted it.

A time came where he could feel the "starving artist" title a bit too literally. With regret, he took his friend's advice and sold a painting to some random guy. The man came back with a friend - lover of the arts and before Usopp knew it, he was selling the blond of his dreams to collectors and museums. He started making marble sculptures, now that he could afford it, like the blond was a greek god, an angel sent to feed him in his most desperate times. Usopp knew such a man didn't exist, but it was nice to have him in his dreams at least.

Well... that was until one day Luffy sent him a video. One of those memes where people went to galleries and posed with victorian portraits that looked like them. He captioned it with "lol rly thought it was him for a sec". Usopp thought this would be another video forgotten in the waves of spam Luffy liked to send, but as the different people went by, suddenly, Usopp felt cold sweat down his back. It was the blond. He looked exactly like the man in his dreams... no. that was the same man. He was absolutely sure of it. He had been drawing and studying that face, those hands, the colors and curves all his life. That was him!

He desperately tried finding him, but all he had was a private page and that was it. He couldn't get any clue as to who he was from the user name "LetHimCook" or the bio saying he was 21 and a rat and a cheff's hat emoji.

Usopp gave up hope for the time being as he was supposed to finish a project that was the biggest in his career so far.

The day to present it had come and Usopp stood there, nervous, talking about his art while snobbish-looking people hummed as if they understood anything about his life's work. Some of the asked questions that he absentmindedly answered, but then someone from the back, who Usopp couldn't see asked something that caught his attention.

"I have two questions if I may. Firstly, who is the inspiration to this "dream" collection? It seems to be more about a lover than actual dreams. And secondly, have you ever considered doing an auto portrait?"

The two unrelated questions caught him off guard, and he didn't know how to say anything about the first one without sounding insane, or the second - without sounding depressed.

"Uhm, interesting questions." Usopp cleared his throat. "You see, uh..." he tried finding the words but they died on his tongue when the asker came into view. It was him. "It's you." He said accidentally out loud.

"I beg your pardon?"

They look at each other for a long second. Usopp couldn't tear his eyes away from the blue haunting his every day and night. "Sorry, I- I didn't answer your uh-" Usopp stuttered, trying to keep any semblance of dignity he could. "I don't like doing self portraits, I've made a few but the model kind of sucks." The people laughed with him but the blond only gave a small smile.

"I would love to see them some time, as I'm sure I'm not the only one."

How could this man leave him speechless every time.

After the Q&A bit was over, Usopp tried his best to avoid small talk from the guests so he could get to the blond before he left. But by the time he got there, Sanji was talking to someone, it would have been extremely awkward to join in.

"Hey, Usopp!" The man who was talking to Sanji turned, and oh God it was Luffy.

The artist didn't know if he should be happy or a bit scared. Luffy dragged Usopp into the conversation and it started flowing quite easily. It was not long before Luffy left to see another friend of his but his absence didn't make it uncomfortable. Usopp learned the man's name, that he loved to cook and that he had been a fan of his work for a while.

Agreeing that Sanji would get a "private tour" or the rest of Usopps (not displayed works), the "party" ends.

On their way home, Luffy hits him with a "It was so funny seeing that guy flirt with you all night."

Usopp, stopping dead in his tracks: Who?

Luffy: Blond guy who kinda looks like your obsession drawings...

Usopp malfunctioning: .......... oh...... . .. . . ... OH!

When they finally arrange a date for the "private tour", Usopp keeps an open mind, trying to see if he really WAS flirting. But then they get to the half-assed self portraits Usopp made of himself and, honestly - Usopp never wanted to show them. He wasn't all that good-looking, he didn't like how they turned out, he hadn't put in any effort and most of them were more reminiscent of grotesque caricatures than the usual realistic beauty he was used to painting.

"They're not really - I mean I mostly made them out of boredom, I- I don't really like them and- and-" He tried to excuse himself, but when he looked at Sanji, he lost all his words. The blond was looking at the paintings and sketches with such awe and sympathy. He reached out to the painted face, the tips of his fingers barely grazing the surface.

He looked back at Usopp, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

"You're far too mean to yourself." Sanji said, faint, barely audible. His eyes widened slightly as the words escaped his lips as if he didn't mean to let them slip.

On instinct, the deep-rooted self-loading Usopp had harboured all these years bubbled just the slightest. "Haha, or maybe not enough."

But then Sanji turned to him seriously, lips in a thin line, a bit hurt. "In... in an interview you once said you're glad the public liked your art, because you wouldn't bare sharing a piece of your soul and seeing anyone insult the man who's haunted your dreams." A stuttering breath. "So, I'd like to request you don't insult the man from mine..."

Oh...

[wnbnny]

to the boy of golden sunlight- hwang hyunjin(h.hj)

summary: your love lasts forever, through the boundaries of time.

warning: angst if you squint??, fluff, and that's it you're good to go:)

to the boy of golden sunlight, i love you.

you would quietly whisper in the night, willing the breeze to carry the words to your lover miles away from you.

to the boy of golden sunlight, i love you.

hyunjin had always thought you were the most beautiful being on earth. if he was your sunlight, you were his moon. calm and quiet, just like the waves crashing against the shore on a calm summer's night. the calmness to his passion, the muse to his inner poet. you two balanced each other out perfectly.

so when you would have little arguments with him, he would do everything to get you back. he couldn't lose you, not now, not ever.

you loved him too, in your own quiet way. you loved everything about him, from the way his eyes would crinkle up into thin creases when he smiled to the way he would kiss you goodbye every single morning without fail. you loved him with all his imperfections, loved him even through every argument you had with him, no matter how big or small.

"hi hyun," you giggled softly when he wrapped his arms around you in one fluid motion, nuzzling his face into your neck and pressing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"had a good day at work?"

hyunjin worked as the proud owner of his own art gallery, having taken interest in art when he was young and dreaming of being an artist or art curator . recently, his studio had begun to rise in popularity, leading to quite a number of famous art curators taking interest in him, so he was always extra busy these days working with clients and whatnot.

"mmm," he hummed, turning you around from where you were cooking at the kitchen to press a soft peck to your lips.

"hyun, i'm cooking, the food will burn," you laughed, turning around and trying to ignore the irresistible pout on his face as best you could.

"aside from one grumpy old art director that kept bugging me to sell one art piece to him , it went well," he sighed. "i've got even more meetings with clients lined up tomorrow, i don't think i even have time to finish that painting of you i'm doing by the end of the week." he frowned, eyebrows creasing slightly.

"well, i'm always available anytime you need to rant," you smiled, finishing up the pasta you had made and putting the pot in the sink to wash.

hyunjin stared, arms finally disentangling from you after back-hugging you for so long. then something clicked in him.

"marry me."

"what?" you stilled in your movements, turning around to look at the man you had called your lover for years.

"marry me." hyunjin stated, taking your hand.

as the soft glow of the lamp cast shadows and hazy light over the shared apartment you two owned, he had never felt more at home, more comfortable, more relaxed, more in love than he had ever been before. right then and there in that moment, he knew he wanted to marry you. wanted to hold you forever, wanted to call you his. he would always love you, now and forever. and he didn't need gaudy displays of affection, no grand gestures, for him to know that you loved him too.

"i'll get a ring soon, flowers, anything you want. but marry me one day." it came out so simply, so softly in the quiet and comfort of your home, his home too.

"i love you," he whispered, thumb brushing gently over the knuckles of your hand as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

"i'll marry you," you sniffed, tears dripping down your face. "my boy of golden sunlight."

[gabessquishytum]

Penniless Artist Dream doesn't have a choice but to take a position as house staff/live-in tutor for Widower Hob's Robin/sell the last of his art supplies for the livery for the job, and while he knows he didn’t have a choice, working on anything not his art makes him very sad.

And he's convinced that Master Gadling (No, Dream is not going to call him Hob) only gave him the position out of pity - which Dream can't abide.

Hob thinks Dream is fantastic! A fantastic artist and person; and so good with Robin. Hob doesn't know how, but he's going to figure out a way for Dream to start doing his art again....Hob's okay if Robin becomes an artist. The finger paintings and hand turkeys that Dream has him making are so great! Hob has kept all of them.

I can't decide if this is Regency-y or Modern Times-y, because Robin+Dream Art would live in a place of honor on Hob's fridge; but Old Time-y Hob getting all the canvases framed at expense and put in places of honor all over the house,,,,,that's totally a thing too.

AND when Dream finally gets back to his art and does a best selling gallery series with Robin's little Gadling handprints all in them,,,Hob would give it to him soooooo good.

Omg. We absolutely need artist Dream with Hob as his patron!! And lil Robin as his biggest fan!! And hey, I cant resist a little regency au in my life *winks at @seiya-starsniper *

Dream is a good tutor, but Hob can see that he's an even better painter. He wants to see Dream thrive and flourish! And so he causally offers him a commission: he wants a painting of a particular view from one of his favourite spots on his estate. Dream is hesitant at first, but Hob persuades him gently. Robin is still quite little, so he doesn't need Dream to be teaching him all the time. Hob can take him out for rides and play with him while Dream works on his art! He's missed playing with his little man anyway, so really Dream will be doing him a huge favour. And so, mostly because the money is too good to resist, Dream gives in.

He paints a magnificent landscape and Hob gushes about how much he loves it. He hangs it in the most important place in the house and makes all his guests look at it. He offers Dream more commissions and Dream can't resist Hob’s puppyish enthusiasm. He paints and paints and teaches Robin at the same time, until the boy is quite the budding little artist. Hob is so proud!

He even suggests that they should send one of Dream’s pictures off to the royal exhibition in London. Dream is very hesitant but Hob is persuasive, and he's got nothing to lose: Hob is paying all the fees. Dream just has to wait and see. When they find out that Dream’s painting is going on display, Hob pulls Dream into his arms and squeezes him, practically lifting him off the ground! He can't wait to take Dream and Robin to see the exhibition! No doubt, he's got it bad for his artist.

They make love for the first night in Hob’s London home, trying to be quiet so nobody will hear. Dream puts his lovely slim fingers in Hob’s mouth and muffles his moans into Hob’s chest, both of them completely floating away on a wave of love and joy. Hob wakes in the morning to the sight of Dream, sketchbook in hand, drawing out his naked form. They're both covered in charcoal by the time they're finished.

Dream isn't exactly a roaring success in London, but he picks up a few commissions from those who saw his painting at the exhibition. It's a huge improvement on his former situation, and he has plenty of room to grow. Although it may be difficult to persuade Hob to let anyone else buy the paintings - he's a liiiiittle possessive. And he'll always worship everything Dream creates <3

[mochatsin]

WHEN MC CAN DRAW

Drawing and the arts is one of the things you’re most passionate about. There’s a lot of things, and certain demons, that are out there to give you inspiration to draw. How will the brothers react when they find out you’re a great artist?

literally in the middle of drawing when I thought about this and i'm wondering why it took me this long to think of an Artist!MC prompt damn. Enjoy reading!

------------

Lucifer

He already had a vague idea that you have a keen eye for the arts when he took you to a gallery once. You’re familiar with a lot of paintings in the human realm, but none of them could quite compare to the styles down here in Devildom.

Lucifer wanted to teach you more about the cultures of Devildom through painted histories and stories which is why he took you to the gallery, and he notices how observant you are of the details on the artwork. He assumed maybe you’re just very educated with the arts up in your world.

Though one day he found you in your room trying to draw a piece with the styles similar to the paintings you both saw the other day. The linework and colors are very on point, Lucifer would have assumed this wasn’t done by your own hands if he saw it displayed on the walls. 

“You’re quite talented if you drew all this after just one art gallery tour.” Lucifer says as he moves closer to further inspect your art. If you ask him how to improve it or how the method works, he would be happy to give you some tips or pointers. 

“As impressive as this is, I would like to see something you’ve made in your own style.” Lucifer would want you to show something that speaks more about you, not about Devildom. He’s curious to see what makes your art style original. He wants to see you take pride in whatever you create of course. 

He’d love to have one of your artworks be framed somewhere in the house. You can use his office for that peace and quiet so that none of his brothers would disturb you while you worked. Lucifer wanted it framed in his room for him to enjoy, though after his brother’s protests and one heated dinner discussion, the piece was placed in the living room instead for everyone. 

Mammon

Mammon doesn’t really have the best sense of boundaries when it comes to your room, so he ends up barging through the doors to see what you were up to and maybe try to whisk you away for a bit of gambling for the evening. Though he finds you on your desk doing some homework, papers scattered on your bed.

You tell him you’re busy working on a project so he whines but stays with you in your room. You have homework about summoning circles so you had several discarded drafts resting on your bed. Mammon can’t help but go through the papers while he waits out of pure boredom. 

Mammon eventually spots under the pile a few of your own personal artworks you’ve made. You forgot to keep them away since they got buried underneath all those papers. “EY!! This ain’t part of a class project right?! This looks freakin’ fantastic!” 

You can tell he’s being genuine about his compliments just by seeing the look on his face. “I-I'm not just sayin’ that cuz you’re my human! I know a gold mine when I see one yaknow?” Mammon says while he goes through the pile to see if there are more works out there for him to admire. He might be tempted to steal one of them just so he can piece of something you’re passionate about so close to him. 

He would definitely urge you to sell some of them for profit, put up commissions online or advertise it on RAD. At first you wondered if this was part of his money-making schemes… he admits it was at first but he wants you to succeed in this if it’s something you genuinely want to do.

“You gotta cut me some slack sometimes ya know? I bet you’ll make bank outta this. I know my old plans for quick grimm haven't worked out, but this one I'm SURE won’t fail” his enthusiasm is almost contagious. Regardless of your decision, Mammon is happy enough to sit back and enjoy your artwork. 

Levi

He is going to be so ecstatic knowing that you’re actually really good at drawing in any form of medium. Levi found out one day when he asked to borrow your notes for class and you lend him your notebook. He was flipping through the pages until he noticed that you’ve been doing little doodles at the back. “I-is that…”

Your peaceful little afternoon got chaotic when you heard an excited scream from down the hall, followed by rampant footsteps that got louder in a matter of seconds until your door opened. Levi has your notebook in hand, with the biggest grin plastered on his face. 

“Y-YOU COULD DRAW RURI-CHAN?!” Levi doesn’t even give you the time to speak when he shows you the doodles and starts going on a rant on how you captured the details of her outfit so perfectly. Even the magic staff is actually on point! 

There’s times he would be peeking by your door while you’re doodling something in your room. Levi wanted to ask if you could draw his favorite characters but he’s too shy to do so, but he’ll be the happiest when you agree to it. 

“I-if you need the references i have a few!” He would say ‘few’ but ends up giving you what’s almost an entire album of art references that you could use. If you want, he can even take the figurines of said characters off his shelf (which is rare) so you can have a better look at it from all angles. 

Levi would definitely have it posted on the walls, keeping all your artworks like a new collection. He would gush about how he wishes he could draw because it’s another way of expressing your love for something you care about. Would definitely commission you for certain things because he doesn’t want to keep asking you for free art.

Satan

Recently he got you hooked on this detective novel series, and you both spend a lot of time together just talking about your favorite parts. Satan loves that chase scene between the detective and thief since it was written so well, it’s almost like you can play the scene in your head.

He’s with you in his room, sitting on the couch with the book propped up by your knees. He assumes you’re just rereading the book and does his own thing. He likes that about your company where the silence is comforting, though there are times you ask Satan what he thinks the detective or the thief looks like in his head.

By the time Satan had to answer one more query that he realized you’re not actually reading the book. He sees that you’re holding onto a pen as you scribble something behind the book, so he decides to sneak behind you while you’re distracted out of curiosity.

He’s surprised to find you drawing on a notebook, looking at the chapter of the book with the chase scene that he mentioned the other day. “You’re… drawing the scene?” He asked, the corners of his lips tugging into a smile. He’s impressed that you got the compositions so well too. To him, you brought this scene to life. 

“Is this why you were asking me all those questions? Well, I’d say you perfectly captured the scene and-” He’d talk about the details you’ve drawn and how it matches what’s written in the book, like a professional critique. He’d love to see the piece once you finish, and even see all your other works you’ve done in the past as well. One cat drawing would make him excited for sure. 

One time you made him a bookmark by using your art for the designs. The brothers know that Satan doesn’t use those as often because he tends to finish books in one sitting, but he began to have that cute little bookmark pressed between the pages of his current book. Not only is the design so perfect, it’s from his precious human too.

Asmo

Asmo is adoring the attention he’s been getting from you recently whenever he would make a little fashion show in his room with all the new outfits he’s bought. He loves the awe he hears from you and how you eye him up and down after he strikes a pose. 

He even saw you buying a magazine with him on the cover, and he just can’t help but feel giddy at the thought of how much you probably adore him because who wouldn’t? You must really love how he looks, right? Asmo even thought of giving you a private show just for your eyes. 

Though he found out eventually that you’re using the poses in his magazines as reference when he saw that you’re trying to copy the pose he made on the cover. “I’m rather offended that you didn’t reference me, the source material itself! I’m always ready to be your model, hun!” 

Asmo would make the perfect model because being in model magazines, he’s used to holding on poses for periods of time without complaint. He’s not shy about his body either so you can ask him to be in any sort of pose for you (but you have to stop him from being not so family friendly when you try to fix his position).

If you’re good at designing clothes then Asmo is going to fall for you even harder. He would admire all the designs you can do, and if you’re open to suggestions then as someone who works and shops frequently at Majolish, he would have a lot of good ideas. He’ll have the connections to make your designs come to life and model it for you.

“I just know if you posted these fine works on Devilgram, it’ll get you tons of views for sure! Especially if the muse is me” Asmo says with a wink as he admires your art. If you made an account then he’ll be loud about it on his social media, wanting people to feast their eyes on it.

Beel

He does a lot of home workouts so often you spot him doing a lot of stretches or lifts around the house. There’s even times you offer to help like sitting on his back while he does his push ups or just being his little moral support. 

Though he noticed all the attention you’re giving on his muscles recently. You offered to wipe off the dirt and sweat he got from his Fangol practice, and Beel sees how much you’re staring intently at his muscles while you wipe him dry with a towel. “MC… is there something wrong?” 

It's only then you realize that your eyes have been glued to him for so long so you decide to explain. You tell Beel that you’ve been sketching recently with someone of his body type but you can’t seem to get the muscles correctly. Hearing that makes Beel smile though. 

“Well, if you want me to help I could. But I want to see your works, if that’s okay with you” Beel said. He’s not much of an artist himself (Satan notes that Beel’s art still haunts him to this day), so he’s very supportive knowing that you can draw.  

He has this awe in his face like how he looks when the restaurant serves him the biggest platter of food as soon as he sees your artworks. Beel is happy you’re sharing such talent with him. “This piece is so colorful. It reminds me of the rainbow layered parfait we had the other day… oh, now I'm hungry.” Even if Beel can eat books and things that aren’t exactly food, he never once tried that with your artworks. 

He’d invite you more often to his little home workouts so you can study his muscles more closely. Beel would love it if you sit on his back while he does push ups as you draw. The sound of the pencil scribbling would bring him to focus.  

Belphie

There’s an upcoming event for RAD that requires a lot of decorations. Since a lot of people are busy with their own tasks, you and Belphie were paired up to think of possible decor for the stage.

Belphie complained how Asmo or Levi should’ve been here instead but since they’re both in charge of the outfits, then he’ll settle with this because at least it requires minimal work. You both were trying to discuss the backdrop designs and the props but he fell asleep midway. 

Belphie wakes up in a few minutes later to the sound of scribbling pens when he saw you creating the designs. You asked him to pick from one of the sets you made but he’s too stunned to even decided when all of them are so good. “You made all of that while I was asleep?” Belphie is in a state of disbelief. 

The one that struck him the most is the starry sky landscape. For someone who loves to watch the stars, this one was particularly mesmerizing for Belphie. So out of personal bias he chose that one.

He never stopped bugging you about your art, always wanting to see what you’re drawing when he spots you on your notebook. He’s not much of a ‘draw me next’ kind of person, but he’d be absolutely happy if you did. More so if you drew him and Beel together. 

Whenever you’re drawing, Belphie wants to take a nap by your lap while you do your work. He likes the look you make whenever you’re trying to figure out something in your art before he drifts off to sleep. His favorite part is waking up to see that you’ve already finished your piece so he gets to admire it first.

[sinful-lanterns]

Wait, University au thought! Ok so like we have three visual arts girlies, right? Lisa, Enfer, and McQueen (they're the only ones I can remember right now).

You know those life painting classes, where they practice figures, often nude, of the person standing at the center of the room? Imagine if Reader agreed to work one of those classes.

Like just the three women who we just know all attended the Reader fan club meetings at least once. Suddenly getting an eye full of what half the women on the campus wants most. And now they have a room full of student paintings/sketches that that population of students would pay just about anything for?

It would be chaos, each piece being held at so much value, at first because of the subject, our dear sweet Reader. But then someone actually shares a small piece of the image... and Reader just looks so cute, so vulnerable, the kind of facial expression and body language that makes you want to run up to someone and smother them in affection.

Oh our poor girlies would be so done for, both to get these paintings, and possibly trying to prevent others from getting any of them.

Not there being a whole black market for Reader’s nude paintings 😭😭

I can imagine Chelsea holding up a whole auction for these paintings in the fan club, and all the women just go feral, trying to outbid each other for a chance of getting a nude Reader painting, only to be outbid by some of the more richer women like Eirene, Cabernet, Ariel, etc…

Also, I can see the three art majors (Enfer, Lisa and McQueen) just…flat out refusing to sell their paintings because the whole experience of seeing Reader naked and getting to stare and admire her for hours is just too valuable for any of them to give up. The other women would be begging for these three to sell their paintings (or at least show them) as they were the best painted of the class, so Enfer, Lisa and McQueen will open up a small “art exhibit” in their dorms, where the other women could pay to see their exclusive nude Reader paintings like an art gallery…

Long story short, these nude Reader paintings are now the hottest thing in the market. Also, Ariel trying to bid at the auction for a chance to win a painting of you, definitely surprised the other women to say the least, as they all thought Ariel was still cute and innocent 😅

[tiphyrow]

Stardew post-marriage headcanons

<<<I'm using this fanart as an excuse to post these on my predominantly art-based tumblr lmao.>>>

!!!BACHELORETTE EDITION!!!

Abigail: very involved, wants to help wherever she can even if she doesn’t really know what she’s doing. Loves the animals, knows them by name. Likes to watch the Junimos work, she thinks they're so cute. She doesn't cook super often (or super well) but when she does it's hearty, filling and often spicy. Kisses your cheeks whenever she can. Takes a while for her to fully realise her freedom and start actually doing the things she wants fully. Will often go out when it rains, still hangs out with the gang, but will sometimes come home with cuts and bruises which is always concerning but you understand. She's getting better with a sword (thanks to some very flirtatious lessons you’ve provided), but is still very slowly collecting scars. Tries not to kill anything, but sometimes it's unavoidable. First few times, she came back from the mines shaking and distant. It doesn’t stop her from going though. She gets used to it like you did, but it's always hard on her. Likes it when you go to the mines together but always prefers going alone, just for the feeling of it. Collects many things and starts her own little collection of artifacts. Will occasionally sell things from the mines, just for pocket money though. Doesn’t really have a job otherwise. Always feels a little guilty about you making all the money for the both of you, but is also very content with the life it provides for her. Her ideal night is both of you under a big blanket and a cheesy horror movie.

Leah: Actually helps on the farm and starts fixing things right away. Forages around the farm and cares for the animals. She paints little murals on all the farm buildings, just for fun. The Junimos weirded her out at first but she comes around pretty fast. Likes cooking for you and always makes heavy and filling food. Lots of mushrooms and stews. Hugs from behind, head on your shoulder. Really appreciates how hard you work and tries her best to keep up with you. Keeps working on her art and will go hours not eating or drinking if she gets too absorbed, only taking a break if you make her. She keeps trying to convince you to let her sculpt you nude, but she's too good and you don't want your nudes displayed in your house lmao. Posts her work on socials and gets a pretty big following. She works her way into a few gallery shows in the city and starts a biannual art showing in town. It gets decently popular (mostly with hipsters) and it's where she sells most of her work. Her art makes more money than she thought it would, but your house still has small piles of canvases and statues that she can’t sell. She REFUSES to let you lend her money for supplies/whatever because she insists on her art becoming self-sufficient (which it eventually does). She will accept gifts though. You can still find her at the river sometimes, just looking at the water. She loves when you join her there, head on her shoulder and hand in hers.

Penny: Best housewife. Cooks and cleans and all that jazz. Gets better at cooking, but still tries her “experiments” that have varying degrees of success. Very homely meals, basic but classic. She likes the bees and always wants to watch while you harvest honey. The Junimos freak her out, she doesn’t like to be near them though she tries to be nice. Doesn’t know how to do much in terms of farm work (will tend to flowers if you have them) so she focuses on the house. Keeps the house spotless but homey, decorates every room unless you’ve already done so, fills the house with flowers. Very quiet and soft spoken. Definitely shy about touching but will hold your hand as often as she can. Struggles to find hobbies (outside of books) once she has more free time and discovers a love of puzzles. Will spend the whole day sitting silent at the table working on a puzzle, just listening to birds. Her favourite ones are classical paintings and those puzzles that are just, like, a bunch of baby shoes lined up. Gets guilty sometimes about how much you work and tries her best to do her part. Still teaches the kids and will bring them on the farm sometimes. Invites Marnie and Jodi for dinner on occasion. Her ideal night is just cuddling on the couch with you and a cup of hot cocoa, watching something like a nature documentary, and just talking about the day.

Maru: Big help with automation, likes building all the machines you need and does it much better than you do. Minmaxer at heart lmao. Immediately goes around the farm fixing anything you’ve messed up, not in a condescending way. She genuinely just wants to help. Doesn’t like when you go in the mines, but understands that it’s become part of your job. Cue the love interest bandaging your wounds scene (she is a nurse). Very interested in the junimos in a “if you find a dead one let me dissect it please” kind of way. Does not know how cook, never learnt, but would like to if you offer to teach. She's a little distant, staying in her work shop for days on end with little food and water. After a while you learn that you need to snap her out of it when she gets like that or she’ll crash. She will take a day to relax but only if you force her to. She appreciates it. She tried working in a lab in the city but never got used to how claustrophobic it is there. She's content just staying at the farm house, doing her work in the workshop (kind of freelance stuff? I think? Idk i'm not an engineer lmao sry, but like also her personal projects). She never fully gets used to being around you everyday. She just looks at you sometimes, a little disbelieving. She sometimes feels like she’s not good enough for you, so you have to remind her. Direct words and soft hugs do the trick.

Haley: Very housewife core. She slips right into the role, trying her best to take care of your home while you work. She’s not the best at it, but she's trying. She cooks well enough and bakes often. Sundays you have dinner with Emily. Decor is her favourite, making the cottage feel like a cottage. Very bright and floral. She thinks the junimos are cute in a freaky sort of way. She mostly stays away from them. She loves the animals, especially the rabbits and cows. Has her own little names for them all. Loves watching you work (she thinks it's hot). Has a blog where she posts her photos and occasionally goes to the city for a photography job, but not very often as it is just a hobby to her. Has a messy scrapbook full of photos of you and the farm. She usually refuses to show it to you, but you’ve persuaded her a couple times. She doesn’t really work, very happy to just decorate the farm and pet the bunnies. Also happy to spend your money, but not often and not without telling you. Wants to be touching you as often as she can. Holding hands, linked arms, hands on your waist, anything. If she can tell you're working too hard, she will physically force you to chill out for a bit, even if it's just five minutes. Will tell you that you look like shit and need to sleep very bluntly and is always right about it. She insists you start taking care of yourself and loves having couples spa days. Unwinding with you after a long day is always something she loves.

Emily: bi wife! bi wife! bi wife! She's very accustomed to taking care of a house and does a great job with yours. Fills it with crystals, protection tokens and the smell of incense. The crystals are partially your fault because you keep giving them to her. Lots of healthy meals, spicy food and kale. Tends to any flower gardens you have and talks to the animals. She mends your clothes and hides embroidered flowers all over them, Not even phased by the junimos, she's definitely seen them before. Delighted that you can understand them. She starts handling any cloth production you might have and uses the fabric to sew clothes to sell online. Has an etsy shop that does quite well and makes sure to advertise the products as homemade from start to finish. Is able to sell the pieces at more affordable prices because of how much money you make. The business is still somewhat profitable, but she really just cares about sharing affordable eco-friendly fashion. It's a little niche style wise but still sells pretty fast. She dances around the house. Whatever she's doing, she does it to a rhythm. Meditates outside frequently and has invited you to join her many times. She takes your hands in hers, tracing the lines of your palms and telling you what they mean. The reading always includes how you two were destined to collide, blessed by fate.

<<<I might do a bachelor version but idk. This took a while. I also have some spicier headcanons that I’m hesitant to share because my irls might see lmao.>>>

[artgalleryofindia]

Buy Traditional Indian Folk Art and Madhubani Paintings online

If you are looking to Buy Madhubani Painting Online, you've found the right place. Dirums has a large selection of traditional Indian paintings, Madhubani paintings, Warli paintings, Tanjore paintings, and more. Visit our website to look through all of our painting collections.

[theodorecanaryhood]

The artist and the Tattooist

🏳️‍🌈Jason Todd x Male!Reader

Reader is a painter and owns a gallery across the street from Jason’s Tattoo Studio

Day one of living in Gotham and you really didn’t get why it had a bad rep. It was a nice area, at least the part you lived in. The area you opened your gallery was in a nice area too.

You did get that some parts of Gotham were not as welcoming once the sun went down, but that’s like most places.

You placed all your canvases on the stands as you looked around, breathing in deeply with a smile on your face. You could be your own boss, work your own hours. Relax.

You heard rock music playing from across the street, not too loud, but loud enough it caught your attention.

There was a guy outside the studio across the street, he was tall, muscular and had ink almost everywhere. At least from where you could see, though he was wearing a tank top and shorts, which didn’t cover much. He was carrying boxes inside from the back of his truck.

‘Todd’s place, sounds cute’ you said to yourself as you walked out of your studio, making sure to lock the doors behind yourself.

You walked across the street and went inside the studio, you looked round to see books on the shelves. Opening some and flipping through pages, it was all artwork.

The smell of fresh ink filled your nostrils as you took in the sight of the studio, it was clean. The sound of a tattoo gun could be heard in the distance.

‘Hey, can I help you?’ The tall, muscular guy from earlier said as he walked into view. Smiling at you.

Tattoos down both his arms, up his neck, you could see a bit of his chest and there were tattoos there too. His hands had some nice flower work.

‘Hi, sorry to just walk in, I just opened the art studio across the street. I heard music and thought I’d come over’ you said, trying not to blush too much, as the handsome man looked in your eyes.

‘Sorry, is the music too loud? I was cleaning and moving stuff around to make room for the delivery. I must’ve not realised’ he said, fumbling for the control to the stereo.

‘Oh no, I like Nirvana. I just wanted to come and introduce myself’ you reached your hand out, stopping him from turning the music off.

‘Great, well it’s nice to meet you, I’m Jason. Jason Todd’ he held his hand out.

‘Y/n y/l/n’ you shook his hand, smiling.

‘Todd? As in…?’ You began, Jason chuckling.

‘Yeah, Todd’s place, thought it would be a cool name’ Jason blushed a little.

‘It is’ you reassured, Jason nodding over to your studio.

‘What’s your place called?’ He asked, you narrowed your eyes.

‘Y/l/n’

Jason laughed, finding it funny that you both had the same idea of naming your studio simply after your last names.

‘I like the artwork, who’s the artist? In the books’ you asked, Jason smiled slightly.

‘Me and my best friend, Roy’ he admitted, you raising an eyebrow. Clearly impressed.

‘Wow, I’m impressed’

‘Thanks, I’m assuming the canvases you sell are your own artwork?’ Jason urged, he was seemingly liking this conversation.

‘Yeah, some anonymous artists send stuff in for me to sell, but haven’t had that privilege since last year’ you laugh, Jason stepping a little closer to you.

‘Well, if you ever get bored and want to play around with designs, we could use some help with our art books’ Jason suggested as you nodded, eagerly.

‘Same if you want to sell your artwork as more than tattoos’ you wink.

You both left the conversation on a light note as you both realised you should get back to work, but there was a spring in your step. Jason seemed like a genuine person, a genuinely nice guy. You were quite shocked, he looked rough around the edges from afar, but then after talking. He was just like everyone else.

You’d settled really quickly into the swing of everything, selling your art to various types of people.

Some were rich snobs who wanted a painting for their second bathroom, some were newly weds looking for a piece for their first home together. Some just really liked the design and wanted to find a space to hang it up.

You were so caught up in your own mind that you’d neglected that the canvases were running low. Along with work to sell.

You’d set yourself a day aside in the weekend to finish everything, which you would’ve done easily had it not been for the fact that you also ran low on supplies.

‘Hey’ you smiled as you walked into Jason’s tattoo studio, he smiled at you while cleaning up a client.

‘What’s up y/n?’ Jason greeted you kindly, as you walked to the counter.

‘Was wondering if you had any brushes I could borrow?’ You asked, Jason nodded as he pointed to a shelf.

You thanked him as you left the studio, while Jason looked at your form walking away. Which surprised even him, he didn’t register his actions till you had left. His still present client cleared her throat.

‘Sorry, let me just wrap this up’ Jason got back to his work, with you in his mind.

You’d been going at painting for a good few hours now, to the point your hand began to hurt a little. Fingers becoming stiff around the brush.

Wasn’t the best way for you to spend a Saturday afternoon, working out of hours while everyone else was out having fun.

A sudden knock at your door caught your attention, you putting your brush down and walking over to the apartment door.

‘Jason?’ You questioned, he just smiled as he lifted up a bucket.

‘Hey, thought you might want these’ he suggested, you looked inside the bucket to find more brushes.

‘Thank you’ you accepted as you let him inside your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

‘Nice place, wow, that’s beautiful’ Jason said as your painting caught his eye. He admired the design and the colours.

‘Thanks, it’s not finished yet. Still needs to dry a bit before I add somethings to it’ you said, placing the bucket on the counter. Jason turned and looked at you.

You were dressed in an old pair of blue dungarees, with paint all over your hands, arms and a bit on your face.

‘We don’t use brushes anymore, so thought you could have them’ Jason explained as he stepped closer to you.

‘Thanks again, how’d you know where I live by the way?’ You asked, curious as Jason looked to the floor.

‘You listed your address on your studio website, maybe don’t do that in case creeps show up’ Jason laughed, looking back at you.

‘Got it’

You walked over and put away the stuff you were using, putting it out of the way. Closing the pots of paint too.

‘You want a beer?’ You asked Jason, he nodded a little.

You grabbed two cold beers from the fridge and handed one to Jason, while you stopped off at the sink to wash yourself free of the paint on your body.

‘So, how long you been an artist?’ Jason asked as he sat down, sipping his beer.

‘Since I was a kid, my older siblings were more into lovers and fame. I wanted something meaningful’

Jason nodded as he felt he could relate in a way, the self-proclaimed black sheep of his family. Feeling like he had to compete to be taken serious at times.

‘You should sell this stuff to a museum, you’d make a mint’ Jason stared into your eyes, you huffed a little.

‘I’m not that good’ you replied as you walked over to the table where Jason was sitting and began drinking your beer.

‘You are, really’ he insisted, you going a little red in the face as Jason didn’t break eye contact with you.

‘Thank you. So how long you been tattooing?’ You asked Jason, he smiled a little.

‘Since I was about 20, but couldn’t do it professional yet, only opened up the studio about 2 years ago’

Jason took it upon himself to work for the money to open up his studio, he felt it too easy to ask for Daddy to give him money. Bruce would’ve done it, but that’s not the point. Jason wanted to work hard for it, not have it handed to him.

Much like yourself, you could have just asked one of your older siblings to give you a loan or your parents. It just seemed more meaningful to do it by yourself.

‘It’s great work, wish I was brave enough to get one’ you chuckled, Jason smiled brightly.

‘I could do one for you, they really don’t hurt that much’ Jason informed, ‘plus I won’t charge much’ he joked.

‘I’ll keep that in mind’

Jason still caught himself staring at you as you spoke, your handsome face just seemed so inviting to him. He’d been with men before, but he’d never been so captured by someone like you.

‘What are you doing tonight?’ Jason asked you suddenly, you shot an eyebrow up.

‘Nothing, probably working on the next piece’ you answered, Jason sighed at the answer.

‘It’s a weekend, come on get out with friends’

‘I don’t have any, not in Gotham anyway’ you replied, Jason looked a little saddened by your response.

‘I’ll be your friend’ Jason said genuine, making you laugh a little.

‘Sorry, it’s just so cute that you care’

Jason placed his hand on yours as he spoke softly again.

‘I’m serious y/n, why don’t me and you do something?’

You studied Jason’s face as he looked deep in your eyes, his gesture not changing.

‘Ok, you know Gotham better than me, show me the good spots’

And show you he did, Jason took you to all the good places he could. Bars, nightclubs, he took you to eat too. Insisting to pay for the majority of the night as it was his idea. Though you did pay your way of course, you didn’t like the thought of Jason being ‘expected’ to pay for everything.

It was a great afternoon to night out with Jason, you both got to know each other better. You even found out that his adoptive father was Bruce Wayne, which isn’t something Jason brags about.

You invited Jason back to your apartment as he seemed to not want to go home yet, so he came home with you.

‘I have something to show you’ you informed as you walked Jason to the guest bedroom.

Jason looked at the room a little confused as you pointed to the floor, sitting down.

‘Lay on your back’ you urged, Jason doing so a little unsure.

‘Wow’ he gasped a little as he lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

It was an art piece of the solar system painted into the ceiling, the sky of the room lit up from the product of glow in the dark paint. Purples, greens, white…it was a design no one had seen.

‘I finished it last week’ you said, Jason looking at you, seemingly in shock.

‘You painted this?’ He asked, shock present in his voice.

You simply nodded as Jason looked back at the rooms sky, mesmerised by it. You could hear the sound of Jason’s calm breathing, watching in the corner of your eye as Jason’s chest lifted up and down.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ Jason came out with, not looking at you as he still looked at the ceiling, you hummed in response.

‘You wanna go out again sometime? Like tonight’ he continued, you smiled brightly.

‘Yeah, I’d like that’ you replied, looking as Jason smiled.

He turned his head to face you as he found you were looking at him, he placed his hand on your face. Pulling you in a little as he greeted your lips with his, after a few seconds of the two of your lips meeting officially, Jason found his tongue inside your mouth. You welcomed it as you did the same.

Jason rolled onto his front with you laying on your back underneath him, still holding each other. Your lips and tongues dancing together in a sweet tango.

‘God, you’re so beautiful’ Jason breathed out as he looked at you. You pulling him in again, wanting his lips on yours.

It was a heated make out session as Jason found his jacket tossed across the room, you then found your hands in his T-shirt as you felt up his torso.

‘Fuck’ you breathed out into the kiss as Jason buried his face into your neck.

You could feel the heat coming from between your legs, as did Jason from between his. It was a perfect moment of passion, a sweet moment to end the night.

The sight of two men in a heated kiss as they slowly discarded their clothes, making a sweet night end with a hot moment. You didn’t even go to your bed, you both remained under the sky of the room, the very room that caught Jason’s attention.

You felt a slight chill up your spine as you woke up, a blanket covering your legs and groin, you found yourself with no clothes on. Laying next to a fast asleep Jason, who was also not wearing any clothes.

You didn’t know if it was morning or not, or how early or late it was. You just knew that it was a great night. Jason felt so good inside you, he was gentle and sweet.

You found your underwear in the corner of the room, where Jason threw it so he could let his mouth work you up. You smiled as you remembered the acts from last night, how good Jason made you feel.

‘Morning beautiful’ Jason smiled as he rolled over, seeing you standing up. Putting on your underwear.

‘Morning, you want some coffee?’ You sat on the floor next to Jason as you kissed his head.

Jason pulled you in for a sweet little kiss, as he held your face. While his free hand held your thigh.

‘I’ll have some please, just wanted to kiss you again’ Jason smiled, you blushed.

Jason drank his coffee while laying in only his underwear in your bed. You cleaning up on some more work.

Jason just looked at you as he admired your form and how you handled your piece, how much passion you had behind everything.

‘I’m hard, you’re making me hard’ Jason said, rubbing his hand through his hair.

‘How am I making you hard?’ You chuckled, Jason placing his empty coffee cup on your bedside table.

‘Come here, you sexy fucker’ Jason gestured with his hand, you smiled as you crawled over to the bed.

Climbing on top of Jason’s lap as you two made out again, you felt Jason’s length against you which caused you to get hard yourself.

‘Fuck’ you gasped, Jason grabbed at the waist of your underwear, pulling it down to expose part of your ass.

It was just as good as last night as you sat on Jason’s hard, friend. Jason’s moans made you so hot. You couldn’t believe the luck you had.

The hot tattoo artist across the street was now naked in your bed. With you.

It wasn’t all about the sex though as Jason felt the urge to take you for a long breakfast date. Well, by now it was more lunchtime.

As weeks went by Jason and you were getting closer and closer, even being the talk of the customers when you’d both run over the street to each other to have a quick kiss and chat.

It was special times with Jason and he made you feel, like you were the only man on earth. You did the same for him.

Though neither of you had said it yet to one another, there was love present in every way.

[dailyrothko]

Thoughts on Barnett Newman? Since his "Stations of the Cross" series is right next to a room of Rothko paintings in the national gallery I was curious about what you think of him, personally I prefer Rothko's work but Stations of the Cross is nice imo :)

I do like the Stations of the Cross, and it's really nice the way the NGA has them all together much more effective as a group I think. They are my favorites of his paintings.

Newman was a writer and become a painter later than Rothko or Gottlieb or Still. I think there was tension about him as he was seen to be getting on the bandwagon. They say Gottlieb was enraged called him "Bullshit Barney" (i think that's right, something like that). But depending on who you ask, Rothko was less wound up about it, I think he didn't feel as threatened. However, Clement Greenberg, the most influential critic of the time, embraced Newman and didn't like Rothko. To me it's all politics but I think it may have hurt Rothko's feelings, he was sensitive.

Newman appealed to Rothko's intellectual side but they were very different. Newman affected a pose, wore a monocle, posed in a suit with a cigarette holder. Everyone seems to say he was a very smart person but some of his peers I think were less impressed with his actual painting. One annoyance was that he apparently changed the dates on some paintings to make it appear as if he had done them earlier than he had.

I hesitate to say anything is 100% true, I only know what I read.

Jack Tworkov said, "I think that Rothko's struggle was an intense one. And now that I know his work much better, his earlier work that I've seen a great deal more of, I can now see what he started from, what he worked through in order to get where he did. Whereas Newman began painting I think in 1947 with that stripe and that was it."

Without being even more digressive, I do think as a society we place too much emphasis on the single artist and whole genius idea. People are parts of groups and their groups are part of a society that has different functions depending on when they exist (Tworkov has good things to say about that). Ginsberg had the Beat poets, for instance, it's part of a bigger tapestry, if you will. I think Americans love this genius myth, (everyone is a goddamn genius, apparently)and that obsession fuels the art world too. There are plenty of painters who do great paintings as good as anyone, but if they are not anointed, they don't sell the same, so i think it invites the idea that one artist is the best and the others must be lesser. If you're an Orson Welles type, you are great but also great at fueling your myth to get work, other people just don't have it in them. Newman could play the whole game a lot better than Rothko.

For me, I do like his paintings and especially Stations of the Cross, but I would say I find his painting less deep than Rothko's. He kind of stuck to a simpler thing than some of the artists of the period. It's not about these personalities really, it's about the art. But I thought I would give some Rothko context to your question.

[thelollipoplux]

Cupid's Corner | In Focus: Chris

Chris is deeply dedicated to his physique, primarily because he competes in bodybuilding contests. This obsession with his physical appearance can sometimes become overwhelming to the point where others might find it off-putting. Fortunately, his best friends, Aiden and Justin, are always there to remind him to take care of his well-being. Chris lives with Justin in the Fashion District of San Myshuno, at apartment 702 ZenView.

When Chris is not working out at the gym, he enjoys engaging in various activities such as rock climbing, skiing, and snowboarding. These pursuits help him broaden his experiences and push his body to its limits. Recently, he has also been considering embarking on a wellness journey to further enhance his overall health.

To unwind and maintain a sense of peace and balance, Chris indulges in painting as a hobby and visiting art galleries. He is still in the process of discovering his unique art style and finding his voice in the creative realm. Additionally, he is exploring the possibility of launching an online shop where he can sell some of his prints and accept commissions from people interested in his artwork.

Chris has a bit of a reputation for being a flirt, having had several casual relationships and flings in the past. However, he now feels ready to settle down and is looking for a more serious relationship, whether it be short-term or long-term.

Additional information about Chris can be found below.

Aspiration

Bodybuilder

Job

Athlete — Bodybuilder Branch (Level 7)

Skills

Fitness (8), Charisma (5), Rock Climbing (5), Painting (4), Fishing (3), Snowboarding (3)

Traits

Active, Bro, Art Lover, Gym Rat, High Metabolism, Morning Sim, Mentor, Antiseptic, Heat Acclimation, Cold Acclimation, Waterproof Sim, Great Kisser

Lifestyles

Energetic

Likes and Dislikes

Hobbies and Skills Likes: Fishing, Rock Climbing, Snowboarding, Fitness, Painting Dislikes: Gardening, Rocket Science

Conversation Topics Likes: Flirtation, Compliments, Deep Thoughts, Potty Humor, Jokes, Affection, Discussing Hobbies Dislikes: Complaints, Gossip, Malicious Interactions, Small Talk

Sim Characteristics Likes: Idealist Sims, Romance Enthusiasts, Family-Motivated Sims, Nature Enthusiasts, Hard-Working Sims Dislikes: Ambitionless Sims, Rascals

Color Likes: Blue, Brown, Green, Yellow Dislikes: Orange, Purple

Music Likes: DJ Booth, Jazz, Metal, Classical, Electronica Dislikes: Retro, Backyard, New Age, Tween Pop

Fashion Likes: Basics, Polished, Preppy, Streetwear Dislikes: Boho, Hipster

Décor Likes: Cute, Basics Dislikes: Storybook, Shabby

All these characteristics, including Milestones, have been set to add to the sim's character. You can download Chris on the Gallery. My username is @thelollipoplux the same as on Tumblr.

The Cupid's Corner Template is by @sarahsimmerxo Thank you so much for making such a wonderful template!

[rosanna-writer]

Love at First Sight's for Suckers (2/5)

Summary: [A Feysand Newsies AU] Rhysand had a reputation. A big reputation. But fortunately for Feyre, a newsie selling papers on the streets of Velaris, tabloid gossip about the handsome, charismatic, hard-partying war-hero of a High Lord's heir means business is booming. That is, until the city's newspaper magnates get greedy, Feyre finds herself an unwitting labor leader at the center of a strike, and Rhys becomes an unexpected ally... Warnings: None

We're back with Feyre continuing to unwittingly make Rhys lose his mind in second part of my gift for @the-lonelybarricade for @acotargiftexchange! Thank you to @itsthedoodle for beta reading <3

Ch. 1 - Got a Feelin' 'bout the Headline | Ch. 2 - Beautiful. Smart. Independent.

You can read the second chapter Here on AO3 or under the readmore.

Feyre really didn't like the way that cop was looking at her. He'd already passed her corner once, and she'd forced herself to ignore him and just keep hawking papers. There were hundreds of lesser fae newsies just like her on the streets of Velaris—even though she was shouting headlines, she might as well have been invisible.

And when you were technically a fugitive, nothing less than invisible would do.

But something had made him turn around and come back. Lucien, at least, was long gone, back to his spot by the docks to finish work for the day. Feyre hoped he wouldn't come looking for her again; if she needed to bolt, Lucien couldn't travel through shadows, and Feyre would never, ever leave her best friend behind.

Recognition flickered in the policeman's eyes. He broke into a run, straight towards her. "Feyre Archeron!" he shouted.

Heads turned. Feyre's heart pounded. The faeries in the square turned their attention to her, putting it together that they had a criminal in their midst.

So Feyre became a shadow again.

To everyone else, it looked like she'd disappeared entirely. But Feyre had merely made herself impossible to grab, nothing more than a wisp of darkness, and she slid into the shadow that the nearby streetlight cast in the late afternoon sun.

She couldn't stay like this forever, so like a ghost, she passed through the solid walls and doors of the Rainbow. Feyre tried to ignore the pang of longing at the workshops and art galleries—there was no time to linger. The Rainbow had always been a safe haven, but there was one place in particular she knew she wouldn't be found.

Once she was backstage at Ressina's theater, Feyre let herself become corporeal again…only to be greeted by an ear-piercing shriek.

"High Lady! " Ressina cried. "Do you really have to do that right in the middle of my dressing room?"

"Sorry. Had a bit of an emergency, Mind if I hide out here for a while?" Feyre said.

Ressina smiled. "My favorite scenic designer can stay here as long as she likes."

Feyre leaned in and kissed the air just above both of Ressina's cheeks, careful not to touch the actress's heavy stage makeup. If Ressina hadn't been wearing an elaborate sequined costume, complete with feathered hat perched precariously on her head, Feyre would have given the female a hug.

"Painting a few trees hardly makes me a scenic designer."

"I made sure you're credited as one in the playbill. And we've been getting such good reviews, I can finally pay instead of owing you a favor. Rhysand and Morrigan are even in the audience tonight."

"Rhysand is…here?" Feyre almost didn't believe she'd heard correctly. As far as she knew, the prince spent his free time at parties and pleasure halls—not in small, lesser fae-run playhouses in out-of-the-way corners of the city.

Cauldron, did he even like musicals?

"Probably some arts patronage thing. Morrigan is on the board of damn near every charity in Velaris."

That made a bit more sense, Feyre supposed. It was common knowledge that Rhys and his cousin were close; perhaps she'd dragged him here. And regardless of why, the buzz from the prince's attendance would do wonders for ticket sales, and Ressina deserved that. In addition to performing, she owned the place, having built the business from the ground up herself. "That's fantastic news."

Ressina shrugged. "We'll see if anything actually comes of it. I don't count my dragons before they hatch. Intermission is almost over, but feel free to stay and watch the rest."

And with that, Ressina left. From previous experience, Feyre knew that backstage in the middle of a show was a busy place, so she crept up to the front of the house and hoped she could find an empty seat.

As she passed one of the private boxes, a familiar voice drifted through the open door. Feyre did her best to ignore the way her heart gave a traitorous little flip at the sound.

"Mor, are you positive that your contacts at the food bank will be prepared for the increased demand?" Rhys was saying.

That was…odd. Whatever this was about, he sounded deadly serious, not at all like a person who was out to enjoy a night at the theater. Feyre froze and strained to listen for Mor's reply, telling herself that obviously the matter was something of political importance if more people in Velaris were suddenly going to need assistance.

Yes, definitely that and not just her own inherent nosiness.

But Mor's reply never came. And neither did the chance to fade back into the shadows. When Rhys's voice drifted out from the open door again, his purr was unmistakably aimed at her. "Hello Feyre darling.

If he wasn't accusing her of anything, Feyre certainly wasn't about to apologize. "Twice in one day. Think it's fate?" she said evenly, letting her voice carry to him.

He materialized in front of her, leaning against the doorframe. At some point since that morning, he'd changed into a formal black tunic embroidered with silver swirls. Feyre found herself wondering idly if the design matched the Illyrian tattoos she'd never seen for herself—the Herald ran plenty of headlines about Rhys in compromising positions, but tragically, a picture of him completely shirtless had never made the front page.

But of course, Feyre was only thinking about that because the plunging neckline he'd worn last Starfall had sold out papers in record time.

"If it is, then I'm the luckiest male in the world." Something in Rhys's smile was just a bit too knowing. Feyre didn't like it.

But still, there was something comfortingly familiar about hearing more of his teasing. "It's nice to see you, too."

His voice floated into her head, which nearly made her jump out of her skin. Rhys had never used his daemati abilities on her before. You shouldn't be out here, not with the police still after you. The box is secluded enough to hide, and there's an extra seat. Join me.

For a long moment, Feyre just stared at him, blinking in surprise. She'd merely stolen a loaf of bread for Lucien in a moment of desperation when he'd spent several days too sick to work and her own earnings hadn't been enough to support them both. Avoiding arrest by fading into darkness hardly made her a notorious criminal, not when any other shadow-wraith could call upon the same abilities.

But Rhys knew. And Feyre couldn't fathom who might have told him or why he'd care. She didn't trust it. "You'll want something in return, won't you?"

"I might." He gave her another one of those annoying feline smiles. She scowled back.

"Fine. What do you want?"

"Draw something for me on the blank newsprint in your bag, and we'll call it even."

Feyre had never heard him sound so earnest, and his violet eyes had gone soft in a way she'd never seen from him before, either. She couldn't shake the feeling she was missing something. "I— What? Why would you want that?"

"My walls are looking a bit bare. What better way to fix that than with something you made?"

More teasing, then. They were back on familiar ground, and Feyre would have thrown a punch—mocking her art was a low blow—if Rhys hadn't praised her work before. When they'd met, she'd been sketching the skyline over the Sidra on a spare bit of newsprint leftover at the end of the day. He'd asked if she was selling newspapers to pay for art school, and she'd laughed in his face.

But after that, he'd returned to buy the paper from her every morning without fail.

"Alright. It's a bargain."

Magic crackled in the air as the bargain tattoo appeared on Feyre's arm, a swirling design that covered everything from the elbow to the fingertips of her left hand. She'd spent her whole life in the Night Court; she knew what bargain tattoos were. But by the Cauldron was this one elaborate. And beautiful.

Rhys was looking at her as if he could hear her thoughts. Feyre frantically double-checked that her shields were up—it was so easy to forget she was in the company of a daemati. "You have an artist's eye. I hope it's up to your standards."

"Bargains go both ways. Where's yours?"

"If you're that curious, undress me and find out."

It must be exhausting, Feyre supposed, to go through life unable to stop flirting for more than a few minutes at a time. But then again, Rhysand never looked tired. "Will you manage to keep quiet during the show? Or am I going to hear you blathering on about how my eyes are like stars the entire time?"

"That's something else you'll have to find out for yourself."

Before Feyre could get another word in, he took her hand and tugged her into the box. The door snicked shut behind her on a night-kissed wind.

A blonde female Feyre only recognized from newspaper photos turned and smiled at them. Morrigan, Feyre realized. She'd heard Rhys use his cousin's name, but after shouting so many headlines about her, Feyre was still caught off-guard by the sight of the Morrigan in the flesh.

"You must be Feyre Archeron. I'm Morrigan, but call me Mor. It's so nice to finally meet you," she was saying, holding out a hand for Feyre to shake.

"Oh. Um. Hello," Feyre said. There was an awkward beat of silence as she tugged her hand—which was still in Rhys's—back so she could shake Morrigan's. "Nice to meet you, too."

There was more uncomfortable silence as Rhys and Mor just stared at each other, and several different expressions cycled across their faces in quick succession. At first, Feyre didn't know what to make of it. But then she realized they must have been speaking about something mind-to-mind. Whatever the topic was, it seemed…contentious.

And that had almost distracted her enough not to notice that Mor had said nice to finally meet her. Feyre couldn't imagine who could possibly have been speaking about her to Mor so frequently.

Rhys indicated for her to sit, and Feyre did. He was right about the box being secluded; the seats were set far enough back that she'd be difficult to spot if someone came looking for her. It put her at ease.

"Do you need something to write with?" he asked, dropping into the seat next to her and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

Feyre always carried a pencil. She reached up under her cap and pulled it out of the messy bun it had been keeping in place all day. Her hair—light brown now that she was fully corporeal—tumbled down her shoulders. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Rhys staring at her, mouth slightly parted.

Before he had an opportunity to say something cutting, Feyre said, "You left a loophole, you know. I could just draw a line on the paper, and I'd keep my half of the bargain."

He shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted to see what you'd do."

Feyre had no idea what to say to that. But at that moment, the lights dimmed, and Mor took a seat on Rhys's other side. Musicians began to play the opening notes of the entr'acte. Feyre tuned it out; she'd heard it enough times when she'd been painting sets during rehearsals.

The bigger question was what she was going to draw for Rhys. As a shadow-wraith, she could see perfectly in the dark theater, so there was nothing stopping her from spending the next hour perfecting a sketch. And uninterrupted time to work on her art was vanishingly rare.

But still, it was Rhys, so the temptation to draw the outline of a cock just to spite him was strong.

Even stronger, though, was the urge to sketch his face. Rhysand was without a doubt the most beautiful male Feyre had ever seen, and since the day they'd met, she'd been eager to try her hand at capturing his strangely sensual-yet-swaggering demeanor on canvas. But a prince could have his portrait done by any artist he liked, and Feyre doubted that he'd agree if he asked him to model for her.

So even though it was against her better instincts to do something that might inflate his ego, Feyre wanted to sketch a portrait of Rhys. To her surprise, he kept quiet and still, actually paying attention to the show.

It was the longest Feyre had ever seen him go without smirking. His features were soft, and she did her best to capture that instead of the smug mask he presented to the world. Something told her moments where he looked this unguarded were rare.

She finished just as the show ended and the lights brightened again. Before Rhys could see what she'd drawn, Feyre rolled up the portrait and held it out for him with a pointed look, daring him to unroll it and examine it in front of her. The bargain tattoo on her hand faded.

Wisely, he merely thanked her and tucked it into a pocket dimension.

"Feyre, the sets you painted look like dreamscapes," Mor said, brown eyes bright. If Feyre wasn't mistaken, that was admiration.

Feyre shrugged. "The actors just needed something pretty to stand in front of while they sing."

Mor locked eyes with Rhysand again, probably having another wordless conversation. Feyre took it as her cue to leave—she could easily slip into the crowd headed for the exit, then find Ressina backstage. But Mor let out a decidedly unladylike snort, squeezed Rhys's shoulder, and winnowed away.

Rhys looked at her, and something in his eyes pinned Feyre to the spot. "Will you allow me to walk you home?" he said.

***

Rhys wasn't entirely sure he was breathing as he waited for Feyre to answer. Not that it was the point, but he wasn't sure his already-bruised ego would survive slinking back to the House of Wind alone after he'd just urged Mor to leave him alone with his mate.

"Why?" Feyre said. At least it wasn't a no.

He slid his hands into his pockets, hoping he looked nonchalant. "Because I'd like to see you get home safely, and no one will bother you if you're with me."

She nodded once. "Alright."

"I can meet you at the stage door once you've gotten your coat."

"I— I don't have one."

He was pulling his own off the back of his chair and wrapping it around her shoulders before he knew what he was doing. This late in the year, Velaris was cold after dark. And perhaps it was reckless, but the risk of a few headlines about Feyre taking him home was worth making sure she didn't freeze.

At least she'd put her arms through the sleeves while she'd scowled at him, though.

Rhys looped his arm through hers and winnowed them outside to the street. Without thinking about it, he started walking towards the tenement she shared with far too many newsies crammed into the small space. Hopefully she wouldn't ask why he knew exactly where it was.

For a while, they said nothing, but to Rhys's immense pleasure, Feyre didn't pull away from him. The silence was comfortable, and for a moment, Rhys just let himself imagine that they were walking home at the end of a proper night out.

But he'd gone to Ressina's in hopes of finding Feyre there for a reason, so Rhys broke the silence. "In a turn of events, I have news for you this evening."

"Do you?" Feyre raised her brows expectantly.

"Starting tomorrow, the owners of Velaris's newspapers will increase the price they charge the newsies. Sixty cents per hundred."

Her hand tightened on his arm as Feyre's entire body went stuff. Their mating bond was still unaccepted—and therefore, faint—but Feyre's anger surged down it anyway. The force of it was nearly enough to knock him off his feet.

When Feyre spoke again, her voice was low and deadly. "Who told you?"

"I was there when they petitioned my father for assistance today. He said no, so they moved on to another strategy."

"And why are you telling me?"

"Because if this develops the way I anticipate it will, then I want to make sure you're the first to know that I won't be buying the paper from a scab. I'd publicly support a strike."

Feyre went quiet, and to keep himself from succumbing to the temptation to read her thoughts, Rhys forced himself to focus on the lights reflected on the river in the distance. Her fingers on his arm never relaxed.

"We don't have a union," she said eventually.

"Then consider this a head start to remedy that." If anyone could form one in a matter of hours, it was Velaris's High Lady. Rhys was sure of it.

"Thank you."

They lapsed back into silence again. Even if Rhys weren't a daemati, he'd be able to see the wheels turning in her head, just from the determined set of her chin and the way a muscle ticked in her jaw. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a more beautiful sight.

All too soon, they arrived at Feyre's stoop. Before Rhys had a chance to insist she keep the coat, she shrugged it off and handed it to him. "I'm not a charity case," she said, as if she could hear his thoughts.

Rhys took the coat but didn't slip it back on. "I know better than to suggest you are."

"Good." Despite the cold, Feyre made no move to step inside. Rhys was torn between urging her to go warm up and wishing that she'd stay out here with him forever. Something in her face softened, and Rhys could almost fool himself into believing she'd let him kiss her goodnight after a night at the theater as he courted her properly.

But Feyre, he reminded himself, didn't want him like that.

Rhys started to say goodbye, but Feyre added, a bit more softly, "For what it's worth, you're going to be one hell of a High Lord one day, Rhys."

Maybe Rhys didn't have Feyre Archeron's heart, but he did have her respect. And maybe that mattered more.

"My father's not a dreamer, and the Night Court suffers for it. Good luck tomorrow."

Rhys refused to waste any more of her time; unable to resist preening for her just a bit, he stretched his wings out wide, then launched himself into the air to return to the House of Wind.

When Feyre had shown up outside the box, he hadn't been able to avoid telling Mor exactly who she was to him. And now, Rhys could practically feel his cousin's mind vibrating with curiosity as he reached for it. She reassured him—not for the first time that day—that Velaris's charities were prepared to handle an influx of newsies in need, and Rhys pointedly ignored his cousin's request for updates on what she'd termed the moonlit stroll with his mate.

Alone in his bedroom with the door firmly locked behind him, Rhys finally pulled the newsprint out of the pocket dimension. And if Feyre's art hadn't been so precious, he would have dropped it in shock.

She'd sketched him. There was something soft about Feyre's portrait that had been missing from the stiff, official ones he'd sat through with his family. It gave Rhys the strangest feeling that Feyre had seen something soul-deep within him and recreated it with a pencil on a spare bit of newsprint.

If the next day weren't likely to be long and uncertain, he would have spent half the night staring at it.

When he woke early the next morning, Rhys could still feel Feyre's anger simmering in the back of his mind. He resisted the urge to tug on the bond for reassurance she was alright—the last thing he needed was for her to feel the pull just behind her ribs and realize what it meant. So all he did was keep alert as he dressed, ate, and made his way to his father's study.

And as if on cue, when the High Lord's daily briefing was barely through, Pulitzer himself burst into the study. Darkness swirled around Rhys's father, dimming the room, a clear warning that the interruption was unwelcome.

"My apologies, High Lord, but it's urgent," Pulitzer said, bowing politely.

"What, exactly, is urgent?" Rhys's father snapped.

"The newsies of Velaris are forming a union. They intend to strike, and I'm here on behalf of the city's newspaper owners to ask for your support with breaking the strike."

Rhys stilled. For a long moment, the study went silent. The slight deepening of his father's frown—and the fact that a tendril of darkness hadn't already thrown Pulitzer from the room—made it clear enough that the High Lord was weighing his options.

"Who's their leader?" Rhys said, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

"An upstart shadow-wraith named Feyre Archeron. They call her the High Lady," Pulitzer said with a sneer.

Rhys felt a warm glow of pride—despite the darkness that rolled off his father in waves. The High Lord jealously guarded his power, and it seemed that even a poor lesser-fae female couldn't get away with a nickname he took as a threat or a jibe.

"You can't possibly—" Rhys said.

The High Lord cut him off. "What sort of support?"

"Police, if you can spare them," Pulitzer said.

Rhys stood so quickly, he nearly knocked over his chair. "There is no reason at all this needs to escalate to violence."

"As my heir," the High Lord said coldly, "you need to learn that in situations like this, it's necessary. If we make an example of the newsies, the rest of Velaris will hesitate to disturb the peace going forward. Pulitzer, you have all the crown's resources you need."

Pulitzer was bowing again and thanking the High Lord for his support, but Rhys hardly noticed. He was already storming off towards the Rainbow.

[we-are-inevitable]

actually shut up. davey being an author and jack is his ex and they both know it was a right person wrong time kind of thing. they both knew they were losing each other too soon but how could they fix it? david needed his career to take off and jack needed life to slow down. david spent a lifetime stalling and jack spent a lifetime running and now david wants to go go go i need to go i need to do this i need to work need to be better need to be the best need to do this, jack, i need to do this, please support this, please. and all jack wants to do is slow down and stop and breathe and davey i cant, i need you here, you need to be here, please stay here stay with me i know you need to run with this but i need you to lay here for just another minute, please.

and they both pause. both understand. both know they need something different in life right now. david needs to experience a fast-paced world of publishing and writing a mile a minute with his ever-running mind, and jack needs to experience a slow-paced world of galleries and painting a stroke a day with hands that need a rest from always itching for more. and so they stop, they separate. they kiss one last time and wipe each other’s tears and suddenly their shared apartment is empty, so empty, leaving jack in the dust and davey in a rundown townhouse in brooklyn.

and here they are, ten years later: davey has that bestselling book series he spent so long on and jack has quite the following with his art and they’re both still hurting, still healing. as we know, creatives have their content ripped out of their chests whether they like it or not, sentences and brushstrokes, painstaking edits until the piece is exactly how they’ve imagined, how they were forced by their own minds to create it.

and give me jack, a tortured artist stereotype (he hates it he hates it why does he hate it), who wanders into a bookstore; he has some extra cash and he wants one of those nicer leatherbound sketchbooks that he knows they sell. he walks in and sees a face, davey’s face, his davey’s face, on a display of books, all brandishing the name David Jacobs at the bottom. so, he’s made it. good for him.

and give me jack, delicately picking up a book as though he may tarnish it, just as he feels he tarnished their relationship. and give me jack, opening up to the first page, and reading:

To J, for haunting my memories enough to keep me awake. Your apparition is the only reason this book is finished— what else was going to make me write until sunrise?

jack closes it. places it back down, picks up the sequel sitting right next to it.

To J, for being there when this started. Maybe you’ll see this when it’s finished. I don’t know. I still have a third book to write.

and maybe that spurs jack on. maybe he’s not J, but he rather wishes he was- he wishes david still thought of him, just like how jack has still been using david’s essence as painting inspiration all these years ago, just how he’s never been able to take another relationship seriously, just how he’s certain that he gave everything he had to david and has nothing left for anyone else.

he takes the plunge. he sends a letter. david’s third book is published later that year.

To J, for coming home. Writing this book with your head on my chest is the forever I’ve been dreaming of.