#also sorry for the lack of art! been really busy with school. and playing fashion dreamer jsadjnhrd

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No Secrets Among Sisters

Pairing: Ina x Lillian 

Summary: Following the incident in the bookstore, Ina confides in her sister about the nature of her relationship with Bea.  

Warnings: Just fluff! 

Word count: 2607 

Tagging: @ikingsley @kaitlynliaofanxx @kwaj115 @sheepmomther-personal @swimmingshoebakerydreamer

*** 

Ina knocks at the door, muttering to herself nervously “breathe Kingsley, just breathe”. Almost immediately a familiar voice rings out from inside, “coming!”.

The door swings open and Lillian stands on the step, smiling from ear to ear at the sight of her older sister. “Ina! Come in already, I was starting to forget what you looked like”, she teased. “Sorry Lil, I have been rather... Preoccupied”. She scolded herself internally as she stepped inside, ‘preoccupied?! Is that really all you could come up with?’.

The truth was that Ina had been avoiding her sister since the night at the Speakeasy and subsequently, finding out Bea was her student. The evasion wasn’t ignored. “So where’ve you been for the last three weeks? I thought you may have eloped for some illicit affair?” her sister joked, waving her hands dramatically as she headed for the kitchen. For a split second Ina froze, her mouth hanging wide open, she only hoped that Lillian’s choice of scenario was coincidental. ‘WITCHCRAFT’ she thought, ‘it’s the only plausible explanation’. Thankfully Ina had managed to compose herself when Lillian turned her attention back to her, “well?” she laughed.

Ina was no good at keeping secrets, the pair were close enough that Lillian would see straight through her and she was certainly no liar. There was a moment’s pause as Ina contemplated how to respond, she was almost consumed by the awkward silence when the youngest of the Kingsley women bound in to the room, “Auntie Inaaaaa”. Charlotte came running through, jumping straight in to Ina’s arms. “Oh how i’ve I missed these hugs” Ina exclaimed, whilst Charlotte all but squeezed the life out of her.

“Let’s get a good look at you” Ina said as she pulled back from Charlotte, turning her full circle and back to face her. Charlotte giggled as she went round, rolling her eyes as she lands back in front of her aunt. “Yes, you’ve definitely grown some” Ina concluded, eyes crinkling at the corners with the first heartfelt smile she had offered since arriving.

“Auntie Ina, will you come see my Lego? I’ve just finished building the Millennium Falcon!”. Charlotte was hopping on the spot in excitement, she really did take after her aunt when it came to her love of Star Wars. “I do really need to speak to Mummy a little first…” Ina started as she spared a glance at Lillian (who by now had stopped busying herself to listen), her attention was brought back to Charlotte when her shoulders visibly and quite dramatically deflated. “I have a mini Chewie?” Charlotte added, in a bid to sweeten the deal. Ina hummed, that’s when the young girl realised she needed to play her final card. ‘Is she giving me puppy dog eyes’ Ina thought to herself, internally appraising the mini genius, ‘oh god she is! Smooth move kid’. “You make an interesting offer little Kingsley” she finally answered.

Ina didn’t make a habit of saying no to her niece, she often felt the need to compensate for their lack of family, it really was just the three of them. That didn’t stop her milking it for what it was worth though, Ina convinced herself she was helping keep that super brain on it’s toes. “Do you think you could go get it ready and wait for me?” she finally caved, offering her pinky in promise. Charlotte smugly accepted before skipping back out the room.

Lillian moved to the table, “I’m guessing by your tone that I should probably sit down for this?” she asked. Ina couldn’t quite meet her sister’s eyes as she pulled out a chair “yes, that’s probably best”. Lillian shook her head, laughing silently “I knew something was off the moment you came in. You may have a PHD Ina Kingsley, but you are a terrible liar”. Ina finally looked up, “I am under no false illusion when it comes to my skills in lying” she replied, hands up in surrender. “However I really did think I had mastered the art of deflection!” She challenged, her expression mocking offence. “Not with me you haven’t” Lillian replied, pressing her lips firmly together as she slowly shakes her head.

“I’ve met someone” Ina finally admitted, turning serious.

“Ina! That’s great news, we should be celebrating? Why aren’t you happy?” Lillian questioned, eyebrows knitted tightly together. “Oh, make no mistake Lil, I am” Ina was quick to dispel that notion, sitting forward in her seat. Her eyes dropped back down, fixed on her hands, she twiddled her fingers nervously as she considered her next words.

Lillian focused on her older sister intently, giving her the space to continue. There were only two occasions she recalled seeing Ina this anxious, the first was when she came out to their parents, the second was when she helped Lillian tell them about the pregnancy. Neither conversation ended well.

The minute that passed had felt like forever and finally Ina continued, “I’m just not particularly sure you are going to approve of my decisions”. Lillian frowned at her accusingly, “I swear to god Ina, if you are sleeping with a married woman, I will disown you. You know how I feel about that. How you of all people should feel about that”. There it was, the conclusion Ina knew her sister would be jumping to, ‘two feet as always!’ she thought, huffing at the idea. “No Lil. I’m not, and will never be, the other woman” Ina spat, as if the words themselves were poisonous.”What then? Ina you couldn’t even play hooky at school, what could possibly be so bad?”.

Her wild imagination didn’t stop there, Ina would have almost found it comical if the situation wasn’t so dire. The older woman knew she should probably just come out with it, but it was so interesting to see where Lillian’s mind went. ‘Wow… I am a terrible person, this is not the time for subject analysis!’ Ina admonished herself, but it really was a force of habit.

“Is she serving time? Drugs? OH MY GOD… Please tell me it’s not a he?!” Lillian pushed, whispering the last part. That was it, Ina couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her. “Lillian stop!” Ina’s eyes were wide at the absurdities being thrown her way, although at this point she wondered if they were better than the truth. “For the record, absolutely not – on the males species I mean. Some things simply cannot be undone” she affirmed, a flicker of a smirk fading as quickly as it arrived.

Ina closed her eyes as if bracing herself “I need you to let me finish though. If I don’t tell you now I’m not certain I ever will” she pleaded, opening her eyes. She exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself and regain some resemblance of her usual composure. “She’s my…” Ina paused, summoning whatever courage she could from within. “She’s my student”.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Ina searched her sister’s eyes for a moment, eyes she knew well, eyes that mirrored her own. When Lillian eventually spoke, her voice was soft. “Oh Ina” she sighed.

The room was quiet, bar the ticking of the clock. Ina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not really sure whether she should speak next or just leave whilst Lilian cradled her head in her hands. “Please say something” Ina breathed, “anything?”.

Lillian moved to prop her face on one hand before replying, “I don’t quite know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. This isn’t like you Ina?” she reflected, the disbelief evident on her features. “I know” Ina mumbled as she went back to toying with her thumbs. Another agonising pause left Ina rubbing her hand over her face, it was only then that Lillian noticed how tired she looked. In fact, this was a look normally reserved for a stressed Ina, the same Ina who wouldn’t have slept in three nights just to meet a deadline.

“Please don’t think for one minute, that I’m not already punishing myself for allowing it to get this far” Ina said as she met her sister’s gaze. “I know it’s inappropriate. Trust me when I say, I’ve tried to distance myself from her”.

“Clearly not enough!” Lillian immediately retorted. Ina winced. As much as it stung, she also knew it was true.

As difficult as she found the conversation, Lillian wasn’t about to let Ina off lightly. “Have you had sex with her?”. The question hung in the air.

“Yes” Ina simply replied, earning a groan from Lillian, who was now massaging her temples. “That was before discovering she was my student though” Ina quickly added, “not that it makes much difference at this point”. It was clear she had been berating herself enough, so Lillian eased off. “How?” Came her next question, much softer than before.

Ina leaned back her in her chair, relaxing only a little by the change of tone. “I was having a drink at that little speakeasy, when this young woman approached the bar. We only spoke briefly at first, whilst she was being served, but she was different. She had this air about her, she was just… Completely captivating!”. Lillian watched her sister smile fondly at the memory.

“Dare I say, I was devastated when she returned to her table. I was on my third old fashioned and feeling rather courageous, so I sent over a drink”. Lillian raised her eyebrows in surprise, it was’t like Ina to be so bold.

As much as Lillian tried to hide it, she was now fully invested in how the story would progress (she always was the soppier of the two). “Sooo? Did she come back?” she asked. Ina’s grin grew wide with triumph, “she did”.

“We must have spoken for a good couple of hours, it all felt so effortless. I knew I wanted to kiss her, but I wasn’t sure how I should go about it. I mean, I would consider myself a bit out of practice!” She chuckled, acknowledging her love life, or lack of. “Despite my earlier confidence, I just didn’t have the nerve. Thankfully that was something she wasn’t short of though, she seemed to pick her moment perfectly”. Ina started to rub the scar below her lip absentmindedly, as she recalled how they had shared their first kiss. The small gesture didn’t go unnoticed, nor did the light in her eyes as she went on. “One thing led to another and before I knew it, I was semi naked in one of the private lounges!” Ina finished in a rush. “I’ll spare you the details” she added, as a blush crept across her cheeks.

“So you really had no idea she was from Belvoire?” Lillian queried, her initial disapproval subsiding slightly. Ina shook her head, “I didn’t even know her name. I gave her my number but If I’m honest I wasn’t sure I would ever see her again. I was pleasantly surprised when she text me the next morning, and rewarded me with said name”. Lillian gave her sister an expectant look, “Bea” Ina breathed, answering the silent question.

Lillian could see the impact the young woman had already made on Ina, pushing her to almost feel sorry for her.

“Imagine my horror when I walked in to my first lecture the very next day, and Bea’s sitting three rows in”.

Ina explained that she had tried to stay away, but couldn’t ignore the connection they had. She joked how Bea might as well be living in her mind, rent free, only it wasn’t really a joke. Ina told Lillian how she had vowed to herself to keep things professional, however that was proving increasingly difficult.

Taking her older sister’s hands, Lillian prepared herself to approach the elephant in the room, the one they had both been dancing around for some time. “Ina, I’ve spent the last two years watching you bury your head in your career, helping you undo the damage she did”. Lillian paused as Ina interjected “you mean she who shall not be named?”. “Yes, Voldemort” Lillian replied, knowing Ina would appreciate her easing the conversation with some humour.

“You’ve barely been able to consider the possibility of love again, because of the pain she put you through. And the one time you do, it threatens to jeopardise the very thing that saved you”. Ina bit her lip as she gave Lillian’s words some real thought.

Lillian carried on “I know how much love you have to give and how desperately you want to give it. You have to ask yourself at what cost though Ina?” Before continuing, she stopped for a second to allow the message to sink in. “I want nothing more than for you to open your heart again, but you can’t be the only one making sacrifices. Especially not of this size, and not based on one night of passion”.

Although Lillian’s voice was one of warning, her eyes showed nothing but care. Ina pulled her hands away to wipe the tears that had to started to escape the corners of her eyes.

“I know you’re right Lillian. I have worked so hard for my career, I daren’t think about what I would do if I were to lose it”. Satisfied that she had highlighted the enormity of the risk (and that it had been understood), Lillian softened once again.

“You deserve the greatest love story of them all Ina. Do you really believe you are ready?”. Ina sighed softly as she thought about the prospect of some kind of ‘future’ with Bea. “I think she’s good for me Lil. In one breath she makes me nervous, but in the next she knows exactly what to say to put me at ease. She may be the cause of my turmoil but it’s like she is also the only resolution”.

“It’s wrong I know, but I can’t help wanting to explore this with her?” Ina said, running her hand through her hair.

“Okay enough of this” Lillian slammed her hands on the table, way harder than intended. “Here’s my advice Ina. You need to keeping working and keep it professional, as professional as possible. That doesn’t mean you can’t get to know her though. If this girl really is interested in you, she will put in the work, thus giving you the chance to work out how you really feel. Then and only then, can you decide where your moral compass wants to settle and if you are willing to put your job at stake”.

Ina nodded slowly, mulling it over, however Lillian wasn’t done. “In the meantime, why don’t you speak to Sam? She’s had her fair share of work place scandals after the whole Dalton/Russo saga, she might be able to offer you some sound advice”.

“That’s actually a really good idea” Ina replied, “she won’t judge me either”.

“Exactly, it’s always worth getting a second opinion from someone who isn’t blinded by sex appeal” Lilian teased as she got up and made her way round the table. “Wait a minute, isn’t that exactly what happened…” Ina was cut off by Lillian pulling her to her feet and giving her a tight embrace. “It’s going to be okay Ina. Thank you for being open with me”.

Breaking the hug and holding Ina at arms length, Lillian laughed at her sisters pout. “Now pull yourself together, get upstairs and see my daughter. I can’t deal with two mopey Kingsleys”, she added with a wink.

“Thank you Lil” Ina said earnestly as she straightened herself up, “I don’t know what I would do without you”.

***

[yonymii]

2 arabesques

a/n; this one was hard to write bc I did it while having writers block but I hope it's ok!! I love alisa a lot she is lovely and I would marry her if she was real 🥰🥰😍😁😁 also I got very absorbed like, halfway through so y/ns personality is basically me. yes

wc; 3.9k

warnings; cursing,

genre; fluff, strangers/friends to lovers, romance

pairing; alisa haiba x gn!reader

listen to 2 arabesques here!

She reminded you of the old paintings of angels you’d seen in art galleries as a child. It was weird, seeing something so ethereal reincarnate as a university student. She didn’t belong here; she belonged on a pedestal, deserved to be adored. But life was unfair, you supposed, and not everyone could experience the excitement of such an elaborate life. Perhaps that was why she was studying fashion modeling in the first place (whatever that was). You’d probably never know. She had absolutely no idea who you were.

By the time you’d stopped daydreaming, your final class of the day was over and everyone had left. Only you were left in the lecture hall, sitting at the very back with your head resting ontop of your arms, the shuffling of the professor packing up his things quickly making tiny little noises at the front of the room. He left, the door swinging shut behind him, but it wasn’t locked. 

It didn’t take you long to pack up, seeing as your laptop hadn’t left your bag in the first place. You swung it over your shoulder after your coat, tucking your hands into the sleeves to protect them from the bite of the wind. It had been snowing when you arrived in the morning, and it took and hour to wake up your fingers to be able to type, let alone write anything. 

The hallways were quiet (as usual; it wasn’t as if anyone wanted to stay in school when they didn’t need to). The little shop on the ground floor had a few students in it, but they were in a hurry to leave too. The large exit doors had obviously been open all day and it was absolutely freezing. You were glad you’d put on your big coat in the morning; it was a long walk back to your apartment and you planned on going to a coffee shop before going there.

It had stopped snowing, but the ground was covered in puddles and your boots and feet got soaked in numbingly cold water as you wandered towards the place you usually studied. It was slowly getting darker as you walked and the sun was lowering itself below the tall line of skyscrapers and apartment blocks when you entered the coffee shop and joined the small queue of teenagers and tired-looking adults ordering their drinks. 

It was quiet inside but you were thankful for the warmth the heaters provided, and the low hum of voices under the music wasn’t unwelcome; you payed for your drink quickly and went to sit at your usual spot, the two-seater table in the corner. There was a small, dim light hanging above your head and it lit the space in a soft, golden glow, unlike the rest of the coffee shop that was lit by streetlamps outside. The moon was hid behind a building, only half of it visible, but you still found yourself staring at it for an unnecessary amount of time. It reminded you of her; your friend’s friend. The girl studying fashion modeling. 

To be quite honest, you didn’t see her that often, so it was a mystery as to why she plagued your mind so often. Apparently, her brother played volleyball for a highschool called Nekoma (albeit not very well), and she was half Russian. Not that it mattered to you, though. You supposed that you’d like her anyway. 

Suddenly, you found yourself snapped out of your little trance by the waiter bringing your mug to the table and setting it down a little too loudly. He walked away quickly, avoiding any sort of contact with you, but you weren’t bothered by it. You were focused on your book so the lack of conversation wasn’t disappointing in the slightest. The bell at the door rung again, and because of the small distraction of your drink arriving you raised your head to see who it was, somewhat begrudgingly, despite it being completely of your own accord.

Your eyes were met with a pair of stark green ones that seemed to go right through you; you shivered, not because they were unfriendly. Admittedly, you knew who she was, but your frank lack of energy made it hard to want to communicate with anyone, and so you pretended not to see her, looking back down at your book and swiftly burying yourself in the pages, as if you were trying to hide from her.

You knew your efforts were futile though. She was almost too nice, and it wasn’t like she knew you were already half-asleep and probably weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. At this point, you weren’t even reading. The words were going right over your head. 

You heard her footsteps before her voice, and you didn’t even need to look up to know she was smiling. “Y/n!”. Too loud. You tried not to wince to noticeably.

“Hey, Alisa,” you managed to spit a greeting out. You weren’t sure what you thought about her at this point. You were tired, and it was late, and you had so many essays due that you doubted you’d get more than an hour of sleep over the next few days. Yeah, sure, you loved her but you were so overwhelmed you didn’t think you’d be able to handle talking to one more person. Emotions were confusing (especially when you considered yourself to be in love, whatever that felt like).

“How have you been?”, her voice was like silk, and you had to wait a moment to process what she was saying. Alisa continued, “I haven’t seen you since last month! How have you been?” she looked down at your book, then at your bag that barely held all the paper assigments from your classes. She laughed (the same laugh that gave you heart palpitations. This  was the reason she wasn’t good for you) “You look busy.”

You laughed (it was sort of forced, but that isn’t the point), “Yeah. School tends to keep you busy,” you paused, adding shakily, “I’m used to it, though. Don’t worry about me!” 

The blonde girl frowned as she watched you panic, your eyes darting everywhere but her. It was hard not to worry when you watch someone you consider a friend fall apart in the back corner of a coffee shop. She tried her best to ignore it though, and as soon as you managed to look back at her she continued the conversation.

“I don’t think we have each other’s numbers yet, y/n. Do you mind exchanging? Maybe we could go out together sometime, since i have to get home and look after Lev,” she sighed, and her eyes closed momentarily, “He’s a bit of a handful. For a fifteen-year-old.”

You didn’t have the energy to feel sorry for her but you let her enter her number into your phone, and she listened attentively when you told her yours to make sure she didn’t get it wrong and end up texting a random stranger to make plans. After you watched her leave, take-out cup of coffee in hand, you lay your head on the darkening pages of your book, ear pressed to the paper. You closed your eyes for a moment and then sat up, breathing deeply as you drank the rest of your tea. You closed your book, tucking it into the bottom of your bag and standing up, patting your coat pocket to check that your phone was still in there. 

It was pitch-black when you stepped outside, and the streetlamps made you squint and cover your eyes with one hand; your apartment wasn’t too far away but it was cold and taxis were easy. You flagged one down and climbed into the back, sitting directly behind the driver (it made you feel safer anyway), and you put in your headphones. 

The drive passed quickly, and as soon as you paid for the journey and exited the car you began to walk briskly up the stairs to your place. Your keys were in the same pocket as your phone, and you pulled them out wearily, pushing the silver one into the lock and turning it till you heard the familiar click. 

The door felt extra heavy tonight, and your bag dropped to the floor just as quickly as you dropped onto your bed. The lights were too bright to turn on but the fairy lights lining the walls were fine; you opted for them as you dropped your thick coat next to your bag and shoes. Closing the window from the freezing cold and switching on the little heater, you crawled into bed and let the warmth envelop you. You fell asleep in mere seconds, ignoring the loud vibrations from your phone carry across the room. 

-

Most of the time, when you don’t want to reply to someone’s message or call them back, you just pretend to have not read it or noticed in the first place. It was weird, leaving the notification there, just to remind yourself that she texted you first. When you’d exchanged numbers the previous week, you just assumed that you’d be the first one to reach out. That’s how it had been with every other friend you’d made. You weren’t disappointed; in fact, you were grateful. You hated having to initiate conversations, however you still felt bad for not replying. 

It had been five days since Alisa first messaged you, three since the second time, and fifteen minutes since the last. The latest one read ‘I’m coming over. Be about 20 minutes!’. 

You sighed, reading it once more and then turning your brightness down. Just because you hadn’t replied to any of her texts didn’t mean you weren’t ok. The music barely reached your ears since you were buried so deep under your covers, but that was fine. You weren’t really listening to it anyways.

There was a knock at the door. You didn’t think that the person on the other side realised how thin it was, but you definitely heard them sigh and let out a string of curses after you didn’t reply. It was Alisa, but you knew that. Nobody else would want to check in on you. The doorknob rattled and you winced; too loud. It opened, a little quieter this time, and slowly, the covers were peeled off of your figure. Alisa sighed (again. How sick of you could she possibly be? You only got back in touch less that six days ago) and looked down at you with disdain. 

“You need to get up. Have you missed any classes?” you shook you head in response to her questions. You couldn’t miss classes. It’s not as if you found them particularly difficult. Just a little boring, that’s all. 

You closed your eyes, tapping your fingers against the mattress. The blinds had been opened and now the evening light was pouring into your room unfiltered. Alisa grabbed your wrist gently, pulling you up painfully slowly. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and patting her hand to let her know you can sit up on your own. 

You opened your eyes somewhat begrudgingly, squinting from the still too-bright light. Alisa was stood at your small fridge, rifling through whatever food was left in there. She pulled out a half-full bottle of milk and a packet of ham. “Do you not uhh,” she paused, “have any… other kinds of food? Or is your diet limited to milk and ham sandwiches?” 

“I usually get takeout. Or ham sandwiches. Sort of depends how lazy i’m feeling on that day.” She turned and smiled at you, nodded her head back towards the door. “We can go to mine. I have ‘good’ food there. Lev needs feeding anyways.”. You grinned, “I thought Lev was fifteen?” 

“Yeah, but he’s still incompetent. I’ll teach him to cook later, when i’m not taking care of you.”

You looked down at your lap, and then at the pair of shoes on the floor next to your bed. Sliding them on, you stood, looking at Alisa for approval. “You look fine. When was the last time you changed?”

You hesitated, thinking for a moment, “A few hours ago, when i got back from class.” You grabbed the brush on the bedside table and combed through your hair a few times, evening it out from the mess it was a minute ago. “C’mon,” Alisa opened the door, “Don’t forget your keys! I doubt you wanna get locked out, right?”

-

Alisa’s house was big. She was lucky not to have to live in student accommodation, in all honesty. When you sat down on her large sofa, you heard the voices of two adults nearing. You weren’t sure what to think at this point. You and Alisa barely knew each other, and she’d come to your apartment, dragged you out of bed, invited you into her home where her whole family was. 

“Alisa, darling? Have you brought a friend over?” 

You saw her nod out of the corner of your eye as she made your meal, humming quietly to the tune of the music. There were loud, fast footsteps in the corridor that her parents had exited and looking up, you saw a lanky grey-haired boy with the same stark green eyes as her. He was almost as tall as the ceiling, and when he entered the room he had to duck to get through the threshold. You assumed this was Lev, Alisa’s high school age brother. Volleyball boy. Whatever. He was unimportant, and you were hungry. 

“Ah! Lyovochka! Are your teammates here? Do they want food?” she didn’t look up from the kitchen counter as she spoke but Lev nodded, running back to ask his friends if they wanted food. (He never came back to give any sort of answer, though)

“So!” the sudden appearance of Alisa’s mother was unexpected. She was just as pretty as her daughter, but very obviously older. “What’s your name?”

You stuttered, panicking slightly, avoiding any possible eye contact. You looked to Alisa for help, and caught her gaze as she hurried over, sitting next to you. “This is y/n, mom. We met a while ago but i invited her over for lunch today,” she looked at you and patted your thigh, trying to calm you down slightly, “We might go out to the city later, if that’s okay with them.”

Alisa’s mother raised her eyebrows at your unwillingness to speak; maybe she thought you were being rude, but you didn’t have the capacity to worry about that right now. “Nice to meet you, y/n.” You nodded, slightly dizzy from being so overwhelmed but trying to be as polite as possible nonetheless. Alisa’s dad was stood behind the sofa, a large cup of what you assumed to be tea inbetween his hands. 

Alisa stood and ushered her parents away, towards the door. “Were you going out?” they nodded, grabbing bags and phones on the way out, “We’ll see you later, then!” Her father tried protesting, but Alisa reassured them that Lev was completely fine while you and her were here. 

Once the door was closed, Alisa looked back at you apologetically. “Sorry about them! They can be a little overbearing sometimes.” she gave you a small smile and pulled out two plates. “I think that’s an understatement.” you replied quietly. 

She laughed loudly, earning a smile from you. “I’m glad you’re okay now though.” she looked at you, smile instantly gone from her face. “You are okay, right?” You nodded, and she relaxed, serving your food onto the plates and bringing them round to the coffee table you were sat facing. “It might be a little hot. Wait a bit before you try it.”

You picked up your plate and put it onto your lap, the warmth of it heating your legs, as if the heat of the room wasn’t already enough. Your face felt warm and your hands shook slightly as you reached to pick up the food; you were either hungry or nervous. It was probably best to not think about it too much.

Alisa was staring at the TV that was sat on a polished wooden desk by the wall, her eyes mirroring the images from the screen. From the looks of it, she was watching a documentary on animals in the arctic, probably one you’d seen before. You weren’t looking at it, but the narrator’s voice sounded familiar and when you were little you’d watch stuff like that constantly, sometimes the same one over and over again until you got bored of it then moved on to the next one (which you’d also - metaphorically - beat half to death and then abandon)

After your meal, the two of you were still, to your displeasure, sat it silence. Alisa had turned the show off and was now sat reading a book and you were fiddling with your hands, waiting for her to notice you and let you go home (really, you could leave any moment, but you didn’t want to say anything first). 

You stood up upon hearing Lev shouting from what you assumed was his room, and Alisa’s head immediately snapped up. She checked the time on the clock above the kitchen counter, and gasped, looking at you apologetically. 

“Gosh! Y/n, you should have told me it was so late! I’ll walk you home.”

You shook your head, and the blonde girl in front of you sighed. “Are you sure? It’s getting dark. At least let me call you a taxi, ok?”. You hummed out a noise of approval and she picked up her phone that had been resting precariously on the arm of the sofa. 

As she was speaking to the person on the other end of the line, (a series of yeses followed by her address and then your street. You smiled, tapping your chest and then sliding your arms into the sleeves of your jacket. She opened the door for you and the taxi pulled into her drive as you stepped out of the threshold; you waved at her, thanking her for your stay, and then wandered over to the taxi, sitting in your usual seat (behind the driver) and she only closed the door of her home when the car drove off. Your phone buzzed; ‘text me when you get home safe, ok! -Alisa <3’.    

-

The next month was January.

The holiday season had passed without you seeing Alisa once, except for in a corner shop once, where you pretended not to see her but ended up being approached anyways. That time there was a pink coating her porcelain skin (you weren’t sure whether it was makeup, the cold or an actual blush, but you opted for the last one to satisfy yourself somewhat).

You sort of wished that you’d been able to spend the holidays with her, though. Sometimes, you found yourself thinking about her unconsciously. It was weird, but you ignored it. Stuff like that seemed like a lot of effort to you, and you were not notorious for being invested in relationships, platonic or romantic. 

You only had one class today, and after that you saw her in the hallways. She’d obviously had a class in the same building of you, and as usual, you pretended not to have seen her. You just kept walking, coffee in hand, eyes on the floor. Again, like the first time you’d really talked, you heard her footsteps approaching and accepted your fate. 

“Y/n! Hey!” she kept walking after you; you buried your face into your scarf and tried to get yourself to stop but it felt like your feet were moving on their own. Why were you ignoring her? You liked her, for god’s sake! You barely knew her, you should be using moments like these to get to know her better! What the hell were you doing?

Her hand landed on your shoulder and pulled you back. By now, the pair of you were outside, and your feet were crunching over newly layed snow. It was coming down thickly, you had to squint to see her properly. She looked tired, and her face was pale in comparison to the pink of the tip of her nose and her ears. It was cold, after all, and she didn’t have a scarf of hat or anything. You wanted to lend her yours; that was what people who were close did, wasn’t it? Why did she look so bedraggled anyway? 

“Y/n, seriously, stop.” 

You frowned, confused. You looked sad? And why would she care anyways? You weren’t close, and you could see her friends looking on from the steps of the building. The snow was catching in her hair and it felt like time had stopped; she really did look unreal. “I didn’t know you cared about me so much, Alisa. We’re not close, and we barely ever talk.”

It looked like she was about to cry. Maybe it was the cold?

“I don’t need a reason to care about you, y/n!” she reached a hand up to rub her eyes, “I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy!” she pointed to her friends on the steps, “They know it!” she was shouting now, and the wind seemed to whistle even louder in your ears, “Everyone else seems to know i’m in love with you except you! And i’m sorry if i didn’t make it obvious enough for you.”

At this point your brain was going overdrive to process what she’d just told you. You knew you probably looked stupid just standing there and staring at he but what else could you do? This wasn’t exactly how you’d pictured your evening going, and despite receiving confessions before this one felt different; you felt like your heart was on fire. It burned, and you were out of breath despite standing completely still. Alisa reached out and took your freezing cold hand into her own. She was surprisingly warm, and there were tears dripping off of her chin onto her coat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, you probably never felt the same way. Like you said, right? We barely even know each other.”

You stepped forward (again, it felt like you weren’t in control of your own feet) and with the hand Alisa wasn’t holding, cupped her cold cheek. She looked back at you and you could see her friends out of the corner of your eyes chewing the inside of their cheeks. It was embarrassing to say the least, but necessary. Alisa sniffed, and you looked back down at the ground, shaking your head. “No that’s not what i..” you tried to make your voice louder, “I just didn’t expect you to also feel like that.” 

She laughed (it was probably the most beautiful noise you’d ever had the pleasure of hearing) and leaned in so that your foreheads were touching, her pretty smile still adorning her lips. “I’m glad,” she whispered, and the burning of your cheeks felt like a blazing fire across your face. 

“Call me later, ok?” you nodded as she moved her face away, hand leaving yours reluctantly. “We can go out sometime. If it’s uhh.. okay with you, of course.” You giggled, and Alisa waved, her friends running after her (also giggling and patting Alisa’s head in what looked like celebration). It had stopped snowing, and the sun was shining through the clouds in a golden evening glow, lighting up the city marvellously. You decided to walk home today.

tags; @chqrryvelvet @wissbby

[megucarecord]

Rating Genshin Impact Character Designs (Pt. 1)

Hey y’all! I’ve been thinking of doing this for a really long time and I decided to finally stop being lazy and do it. So this is going to be a review of all the playable characters in Genshin Impact from a design perspective. I don’t really have any prerequisites to make this list worth anything (unless you count one year of a fashion/sewing class in high school lol) but hey idk, seems fun?

Gonna be super long (10 characters) so putting everything under the cut.

Disclaimer: I don’t actually hate any of these designs, nor do I consider my opinions “fixing” them, this is just for fun. 

Character: Lumine

I have a lot of conflicting feelings about this design. The hair and basic build are fine, very generic but that’s unsurprising for any character that is working at least partially as a pseudo self-insert. The color scheme is also very bland - and is one of the reasons I originally thought that Aether was automatically Geo traveler and Lumine was Anemo traveler. I think that adding more colors would’ve been a good thing, but also would’ve required a revamp of the dress itself, so maybe not the most practical thing, even if I think the dress is a bit too busy. The biggest changes I would make would be to get rid of the fancy part of her stockings as well as the extra flow/ruffled back of the skirt, which is just a bit too much considering the top layer of the skirt is already quite detailed (in a very nice way) and that could’ve just been extended. I also have to admit that though the scarf is very impractical and showy, but it reminds me of a costume from a series I like so I actually like it a lot, although you could definitely term it unnecessary.

Rating: 7/10

Character: Aether

Okay ngl this character design kinda slaps. Firstly, I love that Aether has long hair, it’s a good contrast to Lumine’s cut (and contrast should be super important with characters that are siblings/parallels of one another) and idk long braids are kinda cool. I love that the outfit has distinctive colors, which give the character personality and keeps him from being washed out. The design is much more streamlined than Lumine’s, and although I’m not a huge fan of midrifts (a theme in this post I’m sorry) there’s not actually much I’d change in this design. Except maybe make the cape a scarf to better match with Lumine. This is definitely the superior design in terms of the siblings in my opinion and I think the lack of intricacy fits the image of “traveler” better. It’s not my favorite and there isn’t anything that really stands out in the design, but it’s really solid and I like it.

Rating: 9/10

Character: Albedo

This design has a lot of potential, but I think in the end it’s just a bit too busy (which will be a theme in this game haha). I like the hair - in general I’m glad Genshin isn’t scared to try a bunch of different lengths and styles on guys because if not everything would become painfully boring. I also like the clothes for the most part. The boots are especially sleek, and I like that despite being a Geo character they gave Albedo a bluer, darker color scheme. I think it fits with his mysterious sort of quietly menacing vibe (this man is Frankensteining something I know it). But it really starts to get a bit too much with the coat. I think he needed a coat, again it fits the character, he’s in the middle of a frozen tundra and he’s also a magic scientist man, he needs some sort of coat. But I think the chain and the strap across the front is a bit too much. If I were the designers I would’ve continued with a sleeker theme, make the sleeves longer, the gloves shorter, if you wanted some ornamentation maybe a pack of vials on his belt. Overall very good design, greater color scheme, too busy. Also can we appreciate his banner art? It’s so good I love it.

Rating: 8/10

Character: Amber

Okay first I’m gonna say her card art is super cute. Love the pose, love the style. All gut. Now let me say that this outfit had potential but then it sorta... fell flat. I like the color scheme for the most part, except the white cause idk white is boring and in the game it looks kinda latexy, but I understand wanting three colors and black might be too close to brown. That being said, I hate stockings. Stockings are just the worst, they’re impractical, hard to put on, uncomfortable, should only be worn with dresses. No knight of Favonius needs stockings. Might I suggest pants or shorts? Or like cool pseudo armor plates like with Lumine. Also though I do like the jacket and the leather stomacher design, I think a bomber jacket might suit the character better, because idk they’re cool and they make me think of Amelia Earheart, although that’s such a culturally distinct thing I can’t blame them for not thinking that way. Again the jacket is still very cool, love the stomacher, and love the cuffs.. The belt is lovely and like I said love the embossed designs, but ultimately this design is too impractical, and too bland to get away with being impratical for me. So... yeah.

Rating: 5/10

Character: Barbara

Barbara! Our fav crazy nun. First I’m gonna thank her for having an attack of pure magic then I’m gonna say I hate the color white apparently because I also didn’t like it here. I’m pretty sure she’s supposed to be a novice (could be wrong), so I’d flip the colors, have the accents be white and the main color navy. But idk that’s just me. Overall I quite like her design. It’s a pretty good balance between simple and detailed. I don’t even hate the stockings. I’d say the least good part is the top, the bow and the weird collar is just... ehh? but I don’t think getting rid of the collar would help though. I’d say ditch the bow, make the dress connect to the collar, keep the off the shoulders cold sleeves. I really like the ruffled part of the top skirt. Idk it’s the best part of the design. The hat makes her look like a nurse not a nun though. maybe make the hair ties for the ponytails little veils, might fit better. Overall mostly nitpicks, it’s a strong design.

Rating: 8/10

Character: Beidou

Firstly I’d like to apologize to the Beidou I pulled before never using her (forgive me ily); next I’d like to admit I don’t love her design. I haven’t really harped on the lack of armor on these characters - because I’m not sure how I’d integrate armor into all them without making them bland af, no one wants people running around in full plate armor how tf you supposed to climb in that - but I still wouldn’t’ve put her in a leotard and boots only when she’s a canonical fighter, without even the armor accents on most of the other character. I know that traditional qipao would probably be terrible to fight in, so I’m not going to complain about them slitting it - I actually quite like it I think it’s cool and sleek and fits her vibe - but I will complain about them putting her in a leotard underneath. As someone who dances I can assure you no one in their right mind would want to fight in a leotard, which yes I know isn’t the point and I can’t blame them for not thinking that way. Anyways, I think leggings/stockings and tall boots are quite cool so that’s prolly what I’d do, streamlines the whole design too, gives it a sense of connectivity (idk I’m weird and I don’t look at this character often so yeah). I like the top of her design, although I’d prolly replace the fur on the cap with a large collar, sort of pirate-y or Navy-like. Also let me just say I love the hair and eye patch. Fits her reckless sort of character to hate her hair whipping around, and the eyepatch really sells the concept of her having fought for years. The hand guards didn’t need to be flared, but I don’t mind them being there. Especially since handling a Claymore would definitely rip up your hands if you didn’t have protection. Also the boots though impractical are very cool so... yeah.

Rating: 6/10

Character: Bennett

One of my main team and prolly the closest thing I currently have to a DPS I have conflicting opinions on Bennett’s design. I think it’s a pretty good design all things considered. His belt and all his packs would be busy if you didn’t know Bennett’s character, but considering he’s a wanna be adventurer, I think it works pretty well. Although I don’t know why his extra belt straps are so long... or even exist?? Idk kinda weird. His top is... ehh? I don’t really like it, I think partially because I don’t think Bennett would wear a midrift shirt like this (midrifts where there shouldn’t be midrifts or, as I like to call it, being MagiReco-d) and partially cause the color, though understandable in such a busy design, is kinda bland. I think that’s why the collar works instead of being too busy, we needed some color. If I had to changed the design I’d get rid of the midrift and get rid of those weird extra belt things. Also that one random dagger star thing on one side of his blue collar is just so weird and random and like why does it exist? But overall I like the design, and it doesn’t bug me when I’m playing with him. I think it’s a good example of how busyness can accurately portray a character. Well done.

Rating: 8/10

Character: Chongyun

Another character who I own but have never played, though my friend has him on their main team and they look super cool. I’m not gonna lie I love this character’s design. Firstly the color palette is so good, the white feels like it works to offset all the blue hues - which I love that even the darkest parts of his design are blue not black - so it doesn’t feel bland or irritating, especially with the gold giving it a sense of luxury. I also like the choice to have a tunic that extends to the pants, I think having only white pants would be too bland - again white it a meh color for designs - so it really gives it some necessary details and color. I also like the jacket, again it gives the design a sense of detail while being simple enough not to feel like too much. Also I have no idea what the outfit would look like without the jacket and I have a feeling that answer would be Not Good, so... yeah. Some nitpicks; the left arm band thingie golden cuff is kinda too much and seems impractical and irritating. And... that’s it. I know the slippers are impractical, but I think they work, he is an exorcist not an adventurer after all. Overall, probably second favorite design in the game. Great job

Rating: 10/10

Character: Diluc

Give Diluc a high ponytail, I’m begging you. Lol anyways personal preference aside (which is impossible this entire post is personal preference) I like this design. I think the color works and the whole outfit is a good reflection of Diluc’s character, closed off, luxurious while also a bit ragged and uncontrollable. Yeah. I like it. I do think the thing chain accessory is kinda random, and I don’t think there’s anything about the design that knocks me off my feet, but I do really love the design overall. Also the gloves, good gloves. Suggestions? High ponytailed Diluc. Nothing else. Also though he’s not in this post I like that this outfit is very streamlined and simple compared to Kaeya, it’s a good portrayal of their differing views and opinions through fashion. Because unlike with the traveller siblings I think these brothers have a dynamic where contrast is better than parallel.

Rating: 9/10

Character: Diona

Okay so though I’ve never interacted with this character I skimmed the wiki and I love her backstory it’s hilarious. Also since I never interact with her I don’t have many opinions about her design except why does she only have one sock on? Honestly relatable moments. I think the extra ponytail is kinda weird and excessive considering the hat and I’d prolly make the hair orange to match the ears but overall very cute design. What do bartenders look like? Idk. Oh and also there are a bit too many colors roaming around, but I get it. Overall fairly generic but kinda cute. I still think midrifts are bad.

Rating: 7/10

And that’s it! I hope this didn’t come off as “lol these designs are gross and I’m superior and we should fix them” because no. No one should take any of these suggestions seriously. Except maybe the ponytail one lol. Anyways I hope at least one person likes this cause this took forever and I kinda burned out after a while. Next post if I make it will be interesting cause it includes my least favorite design. May you all have lovely playing and if you love a design I don’t honestly more power to you. Bye!!

[lady-charinette]

A Clawful Plan & A Pawssibly Good Day (Chapter 10) - Dinner for Two Marichat Fic

A Clawful Plan & A Pawssibly Good Day

Plagg quietly sipped at his coffee the next morning, idly watching Pierre set down the chairs for the morning hours when the restaurant would open for business.

His voice seemed loud in the emptiness of the large space and the lack of the usual talk of the crowd and bustling kitchen, “Did Adrien say when he would be back today?”

The chair scraped slightly against the floor and Pierre pushed it under the table neatly, a sigh escaping him, “He said to expect him just before-“

The doors opened as if on cue and the blond himself walked in, hoodie pulled down deeper to cover his face, hair messy, “Hello Pierre, Plagg.” Adrien moved the protective cover of the hoodie away from his face, smiling tiredly at his friends, “I’m sorry for being late, had late night shoots yesterday and an exam earlier this morning.” He didn’t have any eyebags, he couldn’t allow himself to, being a model, but Plagg could definitely see the exhaustion in that green stare.

“Why don’t ya take the day off? It’s a Wednesday.” Wednesdays were reserved for Adrien to freely study for university if his schedules called for it, like upcoming exams or catching up with lost lectures or attend events his father forced him to go to.

Adrien rubbed his chin, resting his hand on his hip and Plagg snickered at the model pose, “Wednesdays are always so full of customers, are you guys going to be alright?” he scratched the back of his head, a sign he was uncomfortable with ditching work.

Pierre offered a kind smile, “Of course, you don’t have to worry at all Adrien. Just make sure to keep up with your studies and don’t forget to rest too.”

Adrien smiled at the elder man, bowing slightly in gratitude, “Thank you Pierre.” He looked at Plagg, who was watching him curiously, “Plagg, don’t trash the VA room again, please.”

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes playfully, “Yeah, yeah, mom don’t worry. Now shoo and go before I change my mind and sit your ass down here.” Plagg was about to take a sip of his coffee before an arm planted itself around his shoulders abruptly and a hand roughly ruffled his already messy raven hair.

“Thanks Plagg, Pierre! You guys are the best!” with a smile to Pierre, the blond raced out of the restaurant, leather bag filled with today’s lecture papers.

Pierre chuckled at the dark, murderous frown on Plagg’s face, “Shut it old man.”

Pierre’s expression changed drastically, a brief flicker of something more sinister shining in those old, brown eyes, “Excuse me, Plagg?”

The raven haired man stiffened, “A-Apologies sir!”

The old butler nodded approvingly, his usual friendly disposition in place and Plagg sighed in relief, sagging further into his seat, muttering about secret demon butlers and pesky blonds.

His phone vibrated with a new message and he lazily took it out, quickly typing in the password and opening the messages.

They were from Tikki.

‘Good morning stinky sock! I hope the cheese cake I made you yesterday was alright. Have a nice day at work, catch you for lunch tomcat!’

A heartwarming smile softened his normally sharp features, Pierre discreetly watching the man’s lips transform into a gentle smile as he typed a reply.

‘Morning, sugar cube. Of course it was, it was purrfect. Don’t overwork yourself either today, I’ll wait for you with lunch outside the shop.’

Adding a silly emoji at the end, Plagg sent his message taking another sip of his coffee.

For some reason, it tasted sweeter.

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

Marinette stubbed her toe against the desk, cursing under her breath and Nathaniel paused in his sketch to look over his shoulder curiously, a sympathetic smile on his lips, “You okay?”

The dark haired woman sighed, slumping back onto her chair, “Fine…”

Nathaniel set his pencil down and turned towards his friend completely, “Sure? You don’t look that fine to me. When did you go to sleep?” he had always had an eye for detail, ever since his childhood days where he first began to draw every day. It also meant he nearly always picked up on miniscule details other people failed to notice.

As often as Marinette wore very little to no make-up, today she had applied a thicker layer under her eyes, which blended into her skin tone to hide the dark eyebags.

Marinette should’ve known Nathaniel knew better, she gingerly touched the smooth skin beneath her eye, “That obvious?” she offered a tired smile and Nathaniel shook his head.

“To me, yes, but not to others.” His small smile stretched into a concerned frown, “Seriously, what’s up? You’ve been on edge lately. We made the deal with that model and the fashion event is only a few days away, I would be relaxed in your stead.” The red-head crossed his arms, carefully observing the woman before him who wrung her hands in her lap nervously before her.

A drawn out sigh and a groan followed her next words, “I know but-! Argh!” she threw her hands in the air, standing up and pacing back and forth in a line, hands gesticulating wildly, “Have you ever met a person you thought was really funny and kind and interesting but like, you don’t know them all too well and you suddenly see a different side to them that you didn’t expect and you don’t like that side of them and you feel really helpless and frustrated?!” Marinette still continued to pace before hands clasped onto her shoulders and Nathaniel gently grabbed her attention by turning her towards him.

“Hey, easy, stop trying to walk holes into our floor.” Nathaniel soothingly squeezed her shoulders again, “I…I guess I can relate to what you’re saying Marinette.” The surprised look she gave him made the professor chuckle, “Remember Chloe? I used to have a bit of a crush on her in primary school, until she started with that bullying anyway. That went away pretty fast. I mean, I don’t really think it’s the same as your situation, but I can relate with the liking someone and not liking certain aspects of them thing. It’s natural.” He shrugged, noticing her calming down slowly, “…Want some coffee?”

Slumping her shoulders, Marinette nodded and Nathaniel led her toward the kitchen, setting up fresh coffee while Marinette slowly started talking about the restaurant she frequented in her breaks.

Once both steaming coffee mugs were in front of them, along with a cookie plate inbetween, did Nathaniel stare at the woman in bewilderment, “W-Wait…you…you’re saying there’s…a toy?” Nathaniel still tried to wrap his head around the quick explanation Marinette had given him, about her recent behavior, her extended breaks, everything. “And…there’s a guy voicing that toy and you…started liking him?” Nathaniel rubbed at his chest, feeling a stinging sensation there, but he tried to curb it.

Marinette, pink faced, slowly nodded, “I mean, maybe ‘liking’ is a bit strong, I mean, he’s really nice and funny! I like his puns! And he keeps me company while I eat, he’s easy to talk to and get along with and well, I don’t know! I l-like his voice okay!?” Marinette slapped her hands to her face, the tips of her ears a beet red and Nathaniel burst into laughter at her shy reaction, “S-Stop laughing! I’ll demote you!” the threat was empty, but it sounded adorable coming from her red face.

Nathaniel coughed a few times, trying to hold in the chuckles trying to come out, before he took a sip of his coffee and it finally died down, “So…you like his voice, huh?” Nathaniel adjusted the collar of his shirt, feeling slight embarrassment bubbling within his own chest at how cute Marinette reacted.

“Ugh, Nath!” Marinette looked ready to spontaneously combust or throw something at him, “It’s-I-I mean- it’s not like I-“ she backtracked, eyes blown wide, elbows planted on the table and hiding her eyes, “Uhm…I…actually did see him.”

The professor’s eyes flew open, leaning forward over the table, “Wait, what? You did? When? How comes you didn’t tell me?” he tried pinpointing when it could’ve possibly been, maybe the time she visited him? But that meant she saw him on campus and that was highly impo-

“I-I met him after your lectures…I kinda bumped into him in the hallway…”

Nathaniel choked.

“What does he look like? What’s his name?” alright, maybe Nathaniel was getting too excited to know this guy, but he definitely wanted the best for her, even if it meant throwing his own infatuation out of the window.

He tried ignoring the prickly, painful sensations in his heart.

“H-His name’s Erik, he’s a bit taller than me, messy dark hair, he likes to joke around and um, he teaches art psychology or uh, art therapy in your university.”

Nathaniel’s body froze and his blood ran cold.

Images conjured up in his mind.

Memories of the past two years of him working as a professor to be exact.

And him.

‘Yo, Kurtzberg, playing with colors again? You’ve got something there on your cheek.’

‘Hey tomato-head, cooped up alone in that room, doesn’t that drive you up the wall? Go out and have some fun, maybe you’ll get some friends along the way!’

“Nathaniel?” Marinette rose an eyebrow at the vacant stare he seemed to have set on a fixed point on the table and she waved her hand.

‘Heh, this looks like a bird shit on it, if I have to guess what’s on your mind, I think the answer stays the same dontcha think?’

‘Most artists only dream of being able to tell what art truly means like us therapists, it’s a shame you chose the weaker craft of the two.’

“Nathaniel? Hey! Earth to Nathaniel!” the man jumped, as if ripped from his own thoughts, wide eyes looking at her.

“Uh, s-sorry, I-uh, got lost in thoughts.” He scratched his head, ruffling his already messy hair.

Marinette noticed the familiar almost haunted look in his eyes, it reminded her of her younger days when she used to be bullied in school. Her hand reached across the table and settled lightly over his fist, “Does he treat you badly at work?”

She had a hunch, but she couldn’t picture it. It didn’t fit together, the picture she had of Chat Noir when she was in the restaurant and when she met him at campus.

Maybe she was wrong, after all.

Nathaniel smiled weakly, “Don’t worry, I tell him off politely whenever he tries to act all alpha male on me. I’ve learned a thing or two following high school.” He winked reassuringly, and patted Marinette’s hand closed over his fist, “It’s just, I always had bad vibes about him, before he started being a jerk to me. He just spells trouble.” He noticed the conflicted look on her face, “But don’t let my personal judgement influence your own, if you say he acts differently in the restaurant, maybe the jerk behavior is just an act? Maybe it’s just me.”

At that, Marinette immediately shook her head, “No! Don’t think that for a second! I don’t know what it is but I’ll find out, he can’t treat any of my friends that way if…if I really do end up liking him that much.” She looked unsure of herself and Nathaniel hated seeing her like that.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly, “I wouldn’t worry too much Marinette, if he likes you, he will realize what a mistake it is in letting you go.”

Marinette flushed, smiling warmly at him, “Thanks Nath, I can always count on you to cheer me up when I need it.” She grinned awkwardly, “Well, except Alya as your female counterpart.”

Nathaniel smiled.

-----------

Adrien almost groaned in bliss at the explosion in his mouth, the delicious pastry from the bakery he grabbed on the way felt like the first taste of heaven after enduring weeks of hell.

He was on his way to catch up on his studies at Nino’s place, before getting ready for the fashion event later this afternoon, he had enough time to pour over the new materials his professor gave him before he had to drive towards the address for the fashion event, of course hosted by Agreste Fashion, with a model wearing a dress made a growing designer. He hadn’t caught the designer’s name, but according to conversations he overheard, the designer must be good at their craft with decent production time.

He hoped to get breaks in-between, he hadn’t eaten much except for the pastry and a small breakfast in the morning before the exam. He bet Nino had some leftovers from yesterday, maybe even something edible in the fridge.

Nino was a surprisingly good cook, courtesy of Nora who loved and treated him like he was her very own little brother since his and Alya’s high school days. Nino mentioned Nora being a bit of a tough nut, instead of showering him with affection, she usually showered him with ‘tough love’ when she visited, whatever that meant.

Adrien smiled when he spotted the building Nino’s apartment was in, he also remembered the very stunned look the DJ gave him when he humbly asked to temporarily share living quarters.

‘Sure dude, you know you’re always welcome, but what happened? Did you lose your apartment? Did your dad piss you off?’

As probable as the last possibility was, Adrien had explained what the true reason was, his apartment was empty.

Not furniture-wise.

It lacked warmth.

It lacked everything a room with people living in it should have, warmth, personal belongings, trinkets that were useless or not that pretty but were still held dear.

Trivial things that made his father scrunch his nose.

Trivial things that made Adrien smile because they reminded him of his mother, when she would take little trinkets and souvenirs from places she would visit for her roles and bring back with her.

Adrien himself didn’t have much, not many personal things, the things he recently got that were closer to his heart were pictures of him and Nino. Those were already in his apartment, one in a frame, the other clipped to a piece of string he remembered seeing in Nino’s house all those years ago, when they were still teens. It inspired him to do something similar, it felt so personal, so real.

For now, only Nino’s picture hung there, they also made a few pictures with Alya at the club as a memory, those would come there too.

Adrien hoped many more would come. Maybe even some with a certain dark haired woman with bluebell eyes.

He took out the spare keys Nino gave him, quickly unlocking the front door and jogging up the stairs before finding the door to Nino’s apartment already unlocked.

Was Nino home?

Adrien pushed the door open, stepping in and setting the keys in a bowl near the doorway, taking his shoes off, “Nino?” he called out, already smelling something delicious wafting in from the kitchen.

“M’ here dude!” the boisterous voice of his friend called back and a small smile lit Adrien’s entire face as he made his way towards the kitchen.

The rooms were small, but enough for one, or two to comfortably live in.

Nino was sitting at the kitchen table, steaming plate in front of him, fork rolling around in the sea of noodles, vegetables and sauce, “Hey man, grab a plate and join me, you haven’t eaten anything much, right?”

The blond snorted softly, shaking his head as he fixed himself a plate and glass of water, “It’s scary how well you know me after all those years.”

The DJ grinned boyishly, gently punching his friend in the shoulder, “Once a model, always a model, huh?”

Adrien chuckled, “Once a friend, always a friend.” Nino’s teasing expression softened, and he nodded immediately, both men chuckling.

“I thought you were in the studio practicing for that gig you were hired for?” Adrien had to admit, even if Nino was nowhere near Marlena’s caliber of cooking, the food was still good.

He wolfed down the veggies and noodles when Nino started talking, “I was, in the morning though. It’s already two in the afternoon, don’t tell me you forgot how to read the clock?”

Adrien rolled his eyes playfully, “I forgot the time, it flew by so fast after that exam, I was just rushing from one point to the next.” Nino spotted the leather bag set on the couch in the connected living room, frowning in concern.

“Aw man, you still gotta study, huh?”

The blond shrugged, swallowing down the noodles, “Yeah, but I should be done in no time. It’s not that much, besides I still need to get ready for that event today, so I’ll go over to my apartment to prepare. I think I’ll sleep there too, so don’t stay up late okay?”

Nino huffed, taking a big gulp of water, “Whatever you say, mom. Just drive safe and don’t drink too much, young man.” Nino imitated the voice of an old woman and both men, despite themselves, burst out laughing at their silly antics.

Adrien enjoyed these things.

Whenever he entered Nino’s apartment, it always reminded him of home, or the closest thing he could associate to it. It reminded him of their school days and strong friendship and what a good man Nino was.

The two men continued eating and chatting and laughing, even after half an hour went by, Adrien felt at ease, the papers in his bag temporarily forgotten, the fashion event forgotten.

All that mattered was the food, his friend, the atmosphere.

It smelled – it felt – like home.

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

Erik strolled across campus leisurely, scanning his schedule for his next class, when he spotted the familiar sight of a certain dark haired woman in the distance.

A grin automatically stretched his lips and he waved to catch her attention, “Marinette! Hey!”

The woman jumped, surprised by the call before she relaxed upon noticing him and waving back.

Erik walked up to her and smiled down at her, “Hey, visiting tom-uh Nathaniel again?”

Marinette smiled, “Hey Erik. Yeah, I just wanted to go over a few things concerning work, I won’t be a bother for too long.” Erik looked around, that explained why she waited near his office too.

Erik planted his hands in his pockets, “I see. So, you don’t have some time today, huh?”

She flashed him an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, I don’t. I have to help organize a fashion event and help dress the models.”

His interest peaked at the word ‘models’, “Models, huh? Mind if I watch?” the grin on his face was positively feral, but the look in Marinette’s eyes hardened to steel.

“Watch?” she rose an eyebrow and Erik backtracked quickly.

“You know, your work, how you work.” He cleared his throat, “Anyway, I may not make it actually, I have classes starting soon until late. See ya tomorrow, purrhaps?”

A smile made its way on the frown previously marring her pretty features and Marinette nodded, “Sure. Good luck on your lectures!”

“Yeah, you too!” he waved and moved towards the long stairs ahead.

Marinette sighed, rubbing her arm.

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

A few hours later…

Flashing lights, clicking heels and painted faces greeted Marinette as soon as she entered.

Paparazzi, bodyguards and models as far as the eye can see.

There were so many people.

She took a breath, before carrying her designs and bag with designing tools towards the changing areas. It didn’t take her long at all to spot a model, or several of them.

Most were doing their make-up, chatting or doing pep talks. Marinette couldn’t fault them for it, she would be a jittery, nervous mess if she would’ve even have to imagine stepping foot onto a catwalk, or anywhere where hundreds of eyes would be on her.

She wasn’t good in the spotlight.

After greeting and going over the minor details and major parts of the show, Marinette helped them put on the dresses she designed, feeling at the same time odd but comfortable, handling something that was hers, her very own work in her hands, and helping models put them on, adjusting things and offering advice.

It felt liberating but also frightening, like an otherworldly experience.

Marinette wasn’t new to fashion nor to handling fabrics or designs, but she was new to this; the spotlights, the flashing cameras, the crowded fashion galas with hundreds of models running up and down looking for their agents, bodyguards or organizers.

She smiled kindly when another model thanked her for her help in braiding her hair, it wasn’t part of the job, but she would help wherever she could if it meant easing the anxious looks on the young women’s faces.

She wasn’t much older than them and yet, she felt obligated to keep them as comfortable and relaxed as possible under these circumstances.

Some models were seasoned experts, doing breathing exercises or small, personal rituals. Some were tracing patterns on their hands to calm themselves, others were looking in the mirror and silently encouraging themselves, some were chatting with others while again others were drinking juices or water to distract them from the big event which would open any minute.

It was almost time to shine.

Marinette excused herself from the changing rooms, making sure the models were taken care of before she stepped out.

The large, luxurious ballroom was filled to the brim with people. Some were already sitting, looking like they belonged to the VIPs or high end people who would asses the event. Others in suits were chatting amongst themselves near the buffet, people with cameras were keeping a low profile and trying to discreetly take pictures without disturbing the guests too much.

Marinette was glad she had the pass around her neck, people would mistake her for some lost woman who accidentally stumbled into this fine establishment and not a semi-respected designer whose work was about to be put up on stage.

She took a deep, staggering breath, accepting a glass of orange juice from a waiter who was parading around with a plate full of champagne and orange juice glasses.

She gulped the liquid down in nearly one go, frayed nerves still breaking at the seams, but at least she was sure she was hydrated.

Marinette decided to mingle about the crowd, greeting a few other designers she’d met a handful of times, but otherwise keeping to herself.

Due to so many people, there wasn’t much room for individual people to really distance themselves from the crowd. It was inevitable to hear some private conversations.

Marinette pretended to enjoy the ambience while subtly listening in on any remotely interesting conversation topics.

She spotted a group of male models a few steps away, talking, some chuckling. Almost all of them had bathrobes on, they would obviously come up on stage later, after the female models were done with their performances.

As Marinette tried to slip past the group of males, back towards the changing rooms to check on her models, she nearly tripped over her own feet when a particular voice caught her attention.

She was sure she wasn’t imagining it, but when she turned around, there were several models talking, it was impossible to say which voice belonged to whom. There was a blond with green eyes, a brunet with blue eyes, several black haired guys with brown eyes.

But there was only one name that hit her like a lightning bolt when she heard a familiar voice sound from among the group.

Chat Noir?

Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you enjoyed it :3 By the way, is the plot advancing too fast?

[peachesncreamkookies]

Exhibit A

Anon: “ He is an artist but has recently found a lack of inspiration. One day he sees you in a park and is captivated by your beauty. All his paintings become about you, in which you find out when they’re displayed at the local art exhibit “

A/N: Incredibly sorry at how long it took me to get to this, duty calls you know. I hope you enjoy this anywho.

Genre: Fluff, some comedy Pairing: Seokjin x Reader. ft: Namjoon, Yoongi and Taehyung

Seokjin’s POV:

Glasses and cupboards and slipper shuffling woke him from his slumber. Another sleepless night, tossing and turning, under the covers, over the covers, shirt on, shirt off. The man trudged into the kitchen, following the noise and wishing to silence it. 

“Morning sunshine, coffee?” His roommate smiled a toothy grin. He nodded and quietly made his way to the bathroom. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, again.” Namjoon understood his friend was in a slump so he decided to make him pancakes to go with his coffee, at least he tried. Jin ran in at the sound of the smoke alarm going off with an alarmed look on his face that was then replaced with a bemused glare as his eyes met a lump of charcoal in the pan.

“Didn’t I tell you, for the safety of myself and the rest of the world, to just stay away from cooking, sharp or fragile objects and anything else you could destroy?” He sighed and reached up to the smoke alarm while his friend disposed of yet another failed attempt at cooking. “Why were you cooking anyway?” 

“Look I know you’ve hit a rut recently and I figured there’s nothing like lifting a man’s spirits with some pancakes.” Jin thanked him for his efforts regardless and sipped on his hot coffee, feeling himself become human again with the slow intake of caffeine. After he washed his mug, Namjoon ushered him into his bedroom. “Put some clothes on, and go buy some ink for my printer, you gotta leave the house.”

He sighed but complied, he hadn’t left the apartment in a couple of weeks except to grab the mail and take out the trash. As they left the comfort of their home they saw delivery men carrying huge boxes to the apartment opposite, number 20a. The old man that lived there before had died a few months ago and it had been renovated and finally got a new owner.

They continued on, Namjoon talking about his thriving career as a head engineer and how his college roommate was in town and wanted to meet up with them. Jin was familiar with Min Yoongi, they all went way back and were good friends despite the broad career paths that separated most of them after high school. They called him up and decided to meet for coffee, said he was bringing a friend. 

Jin knew he was a handsome guy and it was plain obvious to anyone who set eyes on him but when he walked into the little retro cafe to meet their old buddy from school, his eyes met those of a truly gorgeous man. He broke into a sweet rectangle smile and shook Jin’s hand. His hands are so long and soft oh my... he thought to himself.

“I’m Taehyung, nice to meet finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He has? He didn’t recall ever hearing about him before. They all sat down and passed through small talk until Yoongi got down to business. 

“So, Jin hyung, I hear the art industry hasn’t been too kind to you recently?” He stomped on Joon’s foot under the table for telling him and nodded civilly. “Well you’re in luck. Remember that painting you did for me once and I hung it in my house, my friend here happened to like what he saw and he also happens to be an art critique/ dealer/ admirer etc. and is setting up a gallery here in Seoul.”

The older man’s ears perked up, it made sense that such a beautiful man with such unique fashion taste would also be in the art industry, he screams elegance. This could be Jin’s shot at really getting back in the game essentially. He turned his attention to Taehyung, his guardian angel it seemed.

“When I found out Yoongi hyung was friends with the artist of that beautiful piece I asked to see more. I’m offering you to feature in my gallery, it’s in a month so if you accept my offer and live up to what I’m expecting, we could become future partners, I may buy some of your work as well.” His velvet, deep voice was so soothing as it delivered such amazing news. 

“I would be honoured, I won’t let you down, don’t worry.” He smiled through the worry creeping up on him, he’s had no inspiration and done nothing good in so long, how would he magically come up with some good art in a month? He left them all at the cafe early and went for a walk. 

He walked and walked until he reached the park. The sun started coming out again as spring started and the area was so beautiful and green. Maybe it was just the cold, depressing winter and staying inside that killed Seokjin’s flame of passion for his art. The flame itself froze and shattered this winter. He smiled, feeling the sun on his skin, clean air filling his lungs and sound of light rustling leaves from the breeze. 

He plopped onto a bench with a refreshing view. His eyes scanned everything as he delved into his feelings, trying to reignite his flame. It wasn’t enough, he sighed and swallowed his frustrations and lay back on the bench with his eyes shut to shield from the blinding sun. He stayed like that, still, for what could have been 10 minutes or an hour, until the sun through his eye lids went black. He sat up and opened his eyes only to clash heads with someone who was definitely standing too close. 

Adjusting his eyes to the light again, he rubbed his eyes furiously while spitting out comments about personal space and stranger danger. Once he could finally see clearly again, his eyes turned to the woman sitting next to him. He finished mid sentence and soaked up the scene in front of him and he felt the warm feeling of his flame ignite again.

Reader’s POV:

You had just moved this morning, finally made it to the big city, you left the apartment once everything had been taken from the truck and headed out to explore. The hopes and dreams that filled your soul lit your eyes up with a wondrous light. Growing up on a farm in a small village away from literally everything, your free spirit was limited but now you could finally start acting on everything you had fantasised about.  

Meeting the neighbours was something you planned to do but they weren’t in when you stood at their door with a basket of cookies and a note inviting them to come over for a drink if they help you unpack. You heard from one of the delivery guys that they were a couple of nice young men and wanted to come see you anyway. So you left to explore. The sun was out and there was plenty to do. Nice cafes, huge sky scrapers and beautiful buildings and sights, there was just so much to see and do, you couldn’t really contain your excitement. 

Setting off into your new world, you passed by many of the buildings and cafes and everything else until you reached a lush green park. Flashbacks danced before your eyes as you remembered long summer days back home on the farm with all of the village children, hiding behind cows and climbing trees. This was different. Benches were dotted around the place and the trees perfectly spaced. little bridges over the river and a play park for the children and not a single blade of grass longer than the other. 

Your eyes scanned the the greenery and you plopped down on a bench. On an opposite bench was a man, decently dressed and lying with his head back and eyes sealed shut. He certainly didn’t look like a town drunk or hobo. After watching his motionless body for 10 minutes, you grew bored and went over to inspect him. His face was truly that of those actors or singers you’d seen on TV in recent years. A very handsome face indeed. Are all city folk this handsome? you thought to yourself.

You sat down next to him as he woke up, rubbing his eyes and cursing and complaining about personal space or something. Ignoring him, you watched him with a content smile on your face which faded gawked at you and stopped talking. “I liked you better when you were cursing or sleeping. What, never seen a real girl before?” You rolled your eyes and got up to continue on your adventure when he grabbed your wrist. 

“Hold on wait! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to, you’re just very pretty.” He mumbled the last bit but you heard him loud and clear. You shot him a dirty look and walked away, men are honestly a waste of time. Once you reached a bridge, you sneaked a look back to see if he was still there and he was. Head in hands in the same spot you left him. As much as you felt bad, you had pride and you couldn’t let the city folk think you’re a push over.

A new foe had made it onto your very short list of enemies. The stairs. It was dark and you spent the whole day exploring and shopping, by the time you reached your apartment, all the muscles in your body were aching and you just couldn’t wait to get in. Searching for your keys half heatedly, you barely saw the small yellow note on your door. 

“You didn’t take your key this morning so it is in the custody of apartment 20b residents.”

You sighed in exasperation and banged your head on the door before dropping your bags at your feet and walking across to the other apartment. You knocked and waited patiently as thuds and muffled arguing burst behind the door, stopping seconds before it was opened by a very tall and attractive man. 

“Ah, you must be our new neighbour, glad to finally meet you. Do come in.” He moved to leave room for you to reluctantly accept his kind offer only for you to stop dead in your tracks and left to get the bags you left outside your door.

“Really? The park pervert is my neighbour?” You exclaimed, whirling around to see the tall man stifling laughter behind his hand. 

“I see you’ve met already. Please, do tell me how my friend here is the “park pervert”, I would love to hear about it.” He grinned and winked at his friend as he led you to the kitchen counter stool for you to sit at while he started boiling the kettle. “Coffee, tea or soju?” 

It was your first time meeting them and from what you’d already seen of the prince charming looking one, they could be creeps. Could you trust them enough to get drunk on the first day? Oddly your instincts weren’t sending you into panic mode and you really could do with a drink. 

“Soju if you were serious?” He nods and gets out a few bottles and three glasses. Downing your first shot, you introduced yourself feeling the burn down your throat. “I’m Y/N and I moved to Seoul this morning and this weird guy on a park bench was all sleeping or something and then started cursing at me, AND THEN he gawked at me like I was steak!”

“You’ll have to excuse my friend, he loves steak and hasn’t seen a woman in weeks as he’s been cooped up here.” 

“Ya! Don’t make it look like I’m some depressed pervert.” He shot his roommate a look and turned to you finally. “I’m sorry for the weird first impression, I just really lacked inspiration for my work recently but thanks to you it seemed to have come back a bit.” He smiled and bowed his head a bit, ears growing red and hot leading him to take another shot. 

He didn’t come across well at the start but he seemed to be a nice guy, struggling like everyone else. The tension eased and you felt yourself relax. The chatter lasted until a late time when you realised you don’t even have a bed set up yet. In order to make up for how he acted, Jin offered you his bed and he’d take the couch and help you put the bed together in the morning.

Seokjin’s POV:

He couldn’t sleep. How did the beautiful girl from the park end up being his new neighbour. It was so absurd. Flashes of colour and textures soared through his mind the whole night, his finger tips tingling for the paint brush. He got up to make decaffeinated tea, it would help to have a warm drink. He glanced up at his closed bedroom door, you were sound asleep in his comfortable bed and he couldn’t even paint as all his materials were in there too. He sighed and sipped on his tea and eventually passed out on the sofa over his covers.

When he woke up in the morning, he felt like an old machine that needed oil, joints all creaky. He sat up to find you swinging your legs on the chair at the counter munching on a banana with what smelled like coffee. 

“Good morning sleeping beauty,” Jin blushed, knowing you were messing with him but he blushed anyway, “thanks for your bed last night by the way, it was so comfortable, honestly wow!” He rolled his eyes knowing full well how comfortable his bed was compared to the couch. 

“Yeah, hope you enjoyed a comfortable night.” He said, half sarcastically. He trudged over to the bathroom and walked out screaming after seeing Namjoon naked and made coffee instead. You found what you saw way too funny and teased him about it until he went to shower himself. 

After his shower and everyone had breakfast, Namjoon made his way to work and left him to assemble your bed with you. It’s not like he had anything better to do other than paint. When he realised his deadline was creeping closer, he ushered you into your apartment to start. Ignoring how flustered you made him while wearing one of his oversized shirts as pyjamas, he had no time to dwell on such things. 

While you worked, you shared small talk and found out a bit about each other. Seokjin slapped himself when he realised he made one too many dad jokes when he saw your face go from a sarcastic “haha very funny” to a serious “oh my god please stop”. As time went on, you were half finished by lunch time and he offered to cook you something in his apartment. 

He silently praised himself for doing so well, really saving it after the bad jokes. What does a girl like more than a delicious home cooked meal? “Thanks for helping me and cooking lunch by the way, you’re like my wife.” You laughed hoping to ease some tension but little did you know that was like a little dig at his pride. He just got wife zoned. Not even bro zoned. Still what could he expect, he was wrapped up in a pink apron making you lunch. “Speaking of wives, how come you don’t have one?” 

His ears burned red, why were you so confident in asking such questions to someone you literally met yesterday? “Haha why don’t I have one? Well with a face as handsome as mine, there’s too many girls to pick from you know? I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Mood lightened with some narcissistic humour, everything is fine, he thought to himself.

“Oh is that so? Yeah I saw all of them queuing up to see you, they were all so beautifully invisible too. Ah that food looks and smells amazing.” He knew it did. You both tucked in before going back to the half finished frame of a bed in your room and got back down to business. 

“So, how come you’re so eager to finish making this bed with me? Do I bore you that much?” You noticed? He panicked and apologised if he seemed rude.

“I actually think I have the opportunity for a big break, there’s a guy who offered for me to feature in his art gallery in a month and I literally don’t have anything. But since yesterday I’ve been desperate to start painting, I suddenly just have that feeling you know?” 

“Hey, I can finish this on my own if you need to go it’s fine.” Jin shook his head, explaining that he promised to help you and the painting could wait. As time went on, the bed was starting to look like a bed and the pair of you had grown quite comfortable together. When it finished, Jin carried the big mattress onto your bed and helped put on the new sheets. 

“I guess that’s me done then. I’ll see you around some time okay? Come in for coffee whenever you want, Namjoon works but I’m home most days.” As he was about to turn and leave, you grabbed his wrist. He looked so confused until you pulled him into a hug and whispered thank you in his ear. His heart started racing so fast he was afraid you could feel it. He took a deep breath and said goodbye again and walked into his apartment. 

“Wow! You work fast!” Namjoon punched Jin on the shoulder and laughed at the rising heat on his friend’s face. “How did you get her to hug you after she called you the park pervert.” The younger boy dodged his friend’s hits laughing and teasing. 

“Yah show some respect, it’s not like that, I mean we only met yesterday.” He’d had enough. Canvas, brushes, pencil and paint in hand, he sat at the window in the living room. He started to draw colour on the blank canvas, spilling his passion on the white material. The day before was bouncing through his head, from the beautiful spring park, to the beautiful new neighbour, children playing and leaves rustling in the light breeze. 

Weeks had gone by and his room was filling up with paintings. The gallery was a couple of days away. Namjoon and Yoongi both promised to take a day off to attend and see his work there. His roommate had been bugging him about inviting you but the thought tightened the knot in his stomach. 

You had been coming over regularly, usually eating breakfast then going about your days separately, sometime’s hanging around in the evening. There was a growing tension between you as well. At least Jin hoped it wasn’t just him. His friend said he could sense it when they were around each other. 

Deep breaths, he thought as he stood outside your door psyching himself up to invite you. As his knuckles made first contact with the wood, you opened the door startled to him towering over you. He jumped back full of nervous laughter.

“Hey, what are you doing here? I was just about to come over.” You stood small in front of him, his broad shoulders probably twice the length of yours. Not understanding the situation, you waited patiently observing how close you were standing. 

“Oh come over, we’ll take in there over coffee?” You followed him over and saw him poor what looked like alcohol in his coffee and he downed it and turned back to you with your hot mug. “So my art is featuring in a gallery in two days and I was wondering if you wanted to come.” His voice was noticeably wavering. As attractive as he was, he didn’t seem to do this much.

“Yeah that would be great, just give me a time and I’m there. Could I bring a plus one?” His stomach dropped. This was going to be his opportunity to ask you out.

“Yeah okay I guess I can put you both on the list. So is it like a friend or something?” Still clinging on to that string of hope.

“Actually a date, is that alright?” How did he not see that coming? If her date sees those paintings, he’s going to punch Jin square in the face. 

“Umm it’s fine but probably not the best date spot I mean, paintings are boring you don’t want to bore the guy.” He fumbled for a while trying to slyly put in reasons for you to not come but ended up pissing you off instead.

“Why don’t you want me to come anymore huh? Because I have a date? Are you jealous? Maybe you should have asked me out sooner if that’s what you wanted. He got there first! Maybe you are just some park pervert anyway.” Your voice was raised and your chest heaving and you strutted out of his apartment slamming the door, leaving Jin standing, dumbfounded behind the counter.

Reader’s POV:

You had been seeing your guy for a couple of weeks now, you’d been on 4 dates and weren’t strictly exclusive yet but it was still something. Was he your boyfriend? Questionable. So was it a big deal if you took him to your hot neighbour’s art exhibition? Maybe. But you weren’t going anymore. How could he suddenly act so edgy about it all, I mean it’s not like he was your boyfriend.

You texted your boyfriend asking generally if he’d be interested in the art gallery date and he said it sounded like a nice idea but didn’t realise you were into the arts. You pushed the idea to the back of your mind for safe keeping. That was until the next day when you found your boyfriend with another woman.

You weren’t together long enough that you’d cry much about it but you were still angry. Straight home and into bed with a tub of ice cream, ignoring your neighbours on the way up the stairs, mascara streaming down your face.

It was 2pm and his art was now on show in some gallery in Seoul and you heard him leave his apartment with his friends to head down there and you stayed safely behind your door clasping a small scribbled paper. Namjoon had heard about your argument and took matters into his own hands it seemed. The note read:

You should come, alone - Namjoon

The gallery closed in a couple of hours and you never got the part of the conversation where he gave you the location. In spite of breaking up with your boyfriend and having an argument with Jin, you wanted to set things straight. He was still your neighbour and friend and the argument was kind of your fault. Luckily you had Namjoon’s number so you privately messaged him and told him not to tell Jin you were coming. He gave you an adressed and you called a cab. 

It was a trek to find the place but you were finally outside. The bouncer eyed you and you wondered if Seokjin even put you on the list after the way you shouted at him. You gave the man your name and he asked where your plus one was. He heart went out to your friend for putting your ex on the list too despite his feelings.

The room was huge and covered in beautiful pieces all around. You spotted Jin and his friends and headed over to him, when they noticed you coming they smiled and nodded their heads in greeting and pushed the eldest out of their circle towards you.

“Aha, I didn’t think you were coming. Where’s your date?” The last word leaving his mouth obviously strained. 

“He cheated on me so I broke up with him.” Your discussion then became heated, saying he would go down to him with his friends and teach him a lesson but you refused saying you weren’t really serious anyway. 

“Look I’m sorry for not wanting you to come after finding out you were bringing a guy, I didn’t want to mess things up if you had found someone.” You began to question how he would mess things up, completely confused until he moved out of the way and you looked past him. Your eyes landed on a row of intricate paintings, all of the day you had met him.One of your face up close from his view point when you were close to his face, waking him up on the bench. Another of the bench and your legs and feet hanging off it. The next being of the park from his viewpoint on the bench, looking up at you after you had walked away. And the final one was different to the rest. It was of your lips about to connect with his and your hands firmly held in his. 

“I know I didn’t tell you sooner and it’s my fault for not asking you out. I’m sorry if you found this weird I-” You didn’t let him finish. Taking his hands in yours, you pulled him down and locked lips, the rest of the gallery fading out, the other paintings disappearing, along with people whispering, “is that the girl?” 

“Date in the park?”

[geekprincess26]

Black Castles and Blue Pencils

Written for Day 2 of Jonsa Week 2017 event organized and hosted by the magnificent ladies over at @jonsa-week!  This story is the third installment of my “Blue Pencils” series (previous installments can be read here: Part 1 | Part 2), but can be read as a standalone story.

Sansa Stark’s hand rose to her mouth barely in time to cover the huge yawn emerging from it.  For at least the fourth time that morning, she silently cursed the rule disallowing any food or drink in Casterly Rock Preparatory School’s community room during academic events.  She could really use a cup of coffee or two – maybe even three, given the unearthly hour at which she’d had to climb out of bed on a Saturday morning to drive Bran to his chess tournament.  That responsibility normally rested with one of their parents, but Ned Stark was out of town on business and Catelyn Stark with Rickon at his final rehearsal for the Wintertown Community Theater’s spring play.  And Arya, who was technically old enough to drive Bran, flat-out refused to get up at half-past seven on a Saturday morning for any reason at all.

Now Sansa was stuck in a brown metal folding chair without any coffee at all and without her sketch pad, which she normally took with her everywhere, to keep her from falling asleep.  She’d meant to grab it on her way out the door, but she’d hit the snooze button on her alarm clock one too many times and had to run around the house like a chicken with its head cut off in order to have any hope of getting Bran to his tournament on time.  Her normally placid brother had snapped at her as she’d sprinted up the stairs to retrieve her purse from her bedroom, and she’d been so flustered by his uncharacteristic outburst that she had forgotten the sketch pad altogether.  She’d also forgotten that her phone was charging on her nightstand instead of tucked into her purse.

So Sansa found herself without any means of staying awake at all except for shifting in her chair, staring at the clock, and ducking out into the hallway for a drink from the water fountain between matches.  That, and greeting Jon Snow, her neighbor and friend, when he gave her a wave and a shy grin as he and his fellow competitors in the tournament’s high school division arrived for their portion of the event.  Sansa grinned back at once.  Jon had, after all, earned that and more from her for taking her to Casterly Rock’s Valentine’s Day ball three months prior when Harry Hardyng, her ex-boyfriend, had dumped her not two hours before the dance had begun.  Casterly Rock’s rumor mill had jumped into overdrive since then, even and especially among the girls Sansa had once considered her closest friends.  That had only widened the gap between them, which was largely rooted in Sansa’s involvement with the art department of the community theater program at Jon’s behest.  Jon, with his penchant for computers and all things the other girls considered nerdy as well as his family’s lack of money, belonged nowhere near Casterly Rock’s elite, and Sansa knew it.  Since Valentine’s Day, however, she’d cared about it less and less and instead had spent more and more of her time outside of school hours hanging out with Jon, Bran, their sister Arya, and Jon’s friends.  To her surprise, she’d found herself giggling over Jon’s puns and liking more than a few of the unpopular indie folk songs Jon and his group favored.  He might brood a lot, but he never gossiped, and neither he nor Arya nor any of their friends criticized Sansa’s fashion or makeup choices.  So when Sansa had had to choose between spending the second Saturday night of April attending her senior prom without Harry or playing games with Jon, Arya, and their friends, the choice had been easier than she’d thought.  She hadn’t understood all of the games everyone had brought to the Starks’ basement recreation room, but she’d still ended up having more fun than she’d had since she could remember.  It had even been worth the cutting remarks she’d gotten from her former friend Jeyne Poole and the odd looks and snide whispers she’d gotten from nearly everybody else.

Now Bran was beginning his semifinal match, and the tournament was reaching the end of its third hour.  Sansa yawned again and wished for the thousandth time that she had paid more attention to him or Jon when they’d explained the rules of chess to her over the past few weeks.  However, she simply could not keep track of all of the different pieces or in what direction each one of them was allowed to move.  All she could remember for certain was that players tried to capture as many of their opponents’ pieces as they could, but only won the game when they captured the opponent’s king.  Even that had confused Sansa, who had wondered why the ultimate objective of the game was not for a player to capture the opponent’s queen, which after all was the most powerful piece on the board since the player could move her any number of spaces in any direction when he used her.

Sansa yawned again just as Bran replaced one of his opponent’s pieces – a castle, she realized when she saw the telltale turret crowning the piece, although she could not for the life of her remember the more technically correct name that serious chess players called it – with one of his smaller pieces.  He set the castle neatly to the side of the board.

“Check,” he said in that quiet monotone that only Bran could produce, and that he only did produce when at his moments of greatest concentration.  The other player, a brown-eyed girl perhaps a year or two younger than Bran, scowled fiercely at him and relented only at a sharp look from her teacher.

“Bored already, are we, Stark?”  A snide voice right next to her left ear made Sansa jump out of her seat.  She threw out her arms just in time to keep from falling facedown on the floor, but the impact jarred both of her arms from wrist to shoulder, and she emitted a pained yelp.  Several moments passed before she managed to push herself back up to the chair, and she almost yelped again when she saw Mr. Mallister, her algebra teacher and one of the monitors for today’s tournament.

“Everything all right, Miss Stark?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  Sansa gulped and nodded, barely managing a hushed, “Sorry – yes, Mr. Mallister,” before Mr. Mallister’s turned to her right and raised his other eyebrow.

“And you, Mr. Greyjoy?” he inquired in a much sterner voice.  Sansa whirled in her seat just in time to catch a cat-eating grin on the face of Theon Greyjoy, the cause of her fall, who was now perched in the seat next to hers without a care in the world.

“Better than ever, Mr. Mallister,” he replied.  The teacher narrowed his eyes.

“See that it stays that way, Mr. Greyjoy,” he replied before walking off.  Sansa threw a dirty look at Theon, whose grin only widened.

“Can’t help it if you’re not paying attention to your own brother, Stark,” he drawled, keeping his voice low enough to avoid any further attention from the teachers.  He shook his head dramatically.  “Such a beautiful game.  Too bad such a beautiful girl isn’t interested in it.”  He wiggled one eyebrow suggestively at Sansa, who narrowed her eyes at him, and grabbed her hand.  Theon had been wiggling and winking and leering and otherwise trying to persuade her to go out with him ever since Harry had broken up with her.  Sansa, who had never forgotten how Theon had bullied Bran back in middle school and still loved pranking and shooting snide remarks at Jon, had tried everything from refusing him to ignoring him, but Theon, as always, was annoyingly persistent.

Sansa pushed Theon’s hand away.  “I’m still not interested in you, either, Greyjoy,” she muttered now, “so, for the millionth time, shove off.”

Theon only winked at her.  “Sure, you’re not, Stark,” he smirked.  Sansa opened her mouth to spit a retort at him, but she caught sight of Mr. Mallister a few yards away, bit her tongue, and rose as quietly as she could to move to the chair furthest on the row from Theon.

“Check,” said Bran again, and Sansa grinned as her brother plucked yet another of his opponent’s pieces off the board.  She glared again, but Bran, as usual, did not so much as blink.  The teacher monitoring their match reset the timer to begin the next turn.  Not many pieces remained on the board, Sansa noticed, and of those that were left, most belonged to Bran.  Her grin widened.

Not long afterward, Bran called “Checkmate.”  Once their monitor had verified it, Sansa and the remainder of the audience applauded.  Bran held out his hand to his opponent, who scowled but shook it nonetheless.

“See you next year, Stark,” she declared, sounding more like a queen giving an order than an opponent newly defeated.  One corner of Bran’s mouth quirked upward.

“Next year, Mormont,” he agreed, his tone as placid as ever, and the girl released his hand and stalked off.  Bran rose and joined his teammates as they formed a line to file out of the room so the high school division could hold its final match.  Sansa grinned and gave him a thumbs-up, a gesture she would never have used two months prior.  That got both corners of Bran’s mouth to twitch, and Sansa decided not to be sorry for having to wake up at 7:30 AM.

No sooner had Bran disappeared through the door than the high schoolers traipsed into the room.  Jon shuffled in at the end of the line, his ever-present blue pencil tucked behind his ear amidst his riot of brown curls.  Sansa flashed him a smile, but Jon was focused too deeply on the chess board in front of him to notice.

“Awwww.”  Theon had transplanted himself next to Sansa once again.  “Lovers’ quarrel, Stark?  Boyfriend ignoring you?”

Sansa rolled her eyes.  “In case you hadn’t heard, Greyjoy, I don’t have a boyfriend,” she hissed.  “Not that I’d consider you as an option if you were the last person on earth.”

Theon only grinned.  “Keep telling yourself that, Stark,” he said and reached into his pocket.  He fished out a wadded-up scrap of paper and tossed it in Jon’s direction.  It hit Jon straight on the back of the head.  He jumped in his seat and glanced sharply around the room for the source of the interruption.  That earned him a concerned look from Sam Tarly, his best friend and chess teammate, and earned Theon the very dirtiest look Sansa could muster.  Theon only grinned more broadly.  Sansa only wished she could drag him outside and curse him volubly instead of silently.  Focus, Jon and Bran had both told her, was the chess player’s bread and butter, and losing it usually meant losing the match.

No sooner had Jon adjusted his pencil behind his ear and sat down to face his opponent, a petite brunette girl from Vale Academy, than Theon lobbed another paper missile at him.  This one struck Jon on the shoulder, and again he started in his seat and hastily glanced about him.  So did the teacher assigned to monitor the match, and Theon lost his grin and sat straight up in his seat at once.

“Do that again,” Sansa hissed at him when the teacher had started the timer to begin the match, “and I’ll report you to Mallister.”

Theon stuck out his lower lip.  “And stop the match right in the middle of poor Lover Boy’s turn?” he mocked.  Sansa glared at him.  Theon smirked back, but Sansa did not move her eyes.  Perhaps if she watched him for the duration of the match, he would not risk disrupting Jon again.  It was a faint hope, but better than none.

Or not, Sansa realized five minutes later, when Theon scooted his chair far enough for it to collide with the empty one next to it.  The resulting clanging noise startled both Jon and his opponent and earned both Theon and Sansa a pointed stare from Mr. Mallister.  Sansa’s face flushed.  She folded her hands in her lap and lowered her head.  

After a few moments, the match resumed.  Jon’s opponent promptly moved one of his pieces off the board – it was a castle again, Sansa noticed – and Jon grimaced and shook his head.  So did Sansa.  Damn Theon anyway, she thought.  If he had not broken Jon’s concentration during the previous turn, Jon might have made a different move and not lost his castle.

Screw you, Greyjoy, she spat to herself.  Only when she sensed Theon turning to grin at her did she realize she had muttered it loud enough for her to hear.

“Why, I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Stark,” he whispered.  When Sansa clenched her jaw to keep from snapping back at him, he continued.  “At least part of it.  Maybe a little kiss?  With a little tongue?  A little bite?  No?  Maybe you do want Lover Boy to be your lover, huh?”  Sansa only clenched her jaw more tightly in response, and Theon slouched back against his chair and shrugged.

“Too bad, Stark,” he muttered.  “You’re missing out.  Lover Boy has no talent with his tongue.  You’d like mine a lot better…along with a few other things.”  He swiveled his hips suggestively, but just then Mr. Mallister turned back to face them, and Sansa had to bite back the retort on the tip of her tongue.  Instead, she sighed deeply and stared straight at the table in the middle of the room, where Jon’s opponent was frowning deeply at the chessboard.  She moved one of her castle pieces just as the buzzer sounded to signal the end of her turn.

Jon, now staring fiercely at the board, reached back to adjust the pencil behind his ear, as was his wont when deep in thought.  He raised his hand as if to grab one of his pieces, but then withdrew it and went back to staring.  He reached back up, and his hand was almost touching his pencil when yet another of Theon’s projectiles smacked him on the elbow.  Jon started and bit his lip, and Sansa could almost hear him cursing its source.  The teacher next to them rotated a pointed stare from one end of the audience chairs to the other, but it was clear that she could not tell who had disrupted Jon, and Mr. Mallister was consulting with the scorekeepers in the far corner of the room.  Sansa bit her lip as Jon frowned back at the board, trying to regain his focus, and finally selected another piece to move.

She bit it harder during the next turn, when Jon’s opponent promptly captured another of his larger pieces.  This one had a rounded top.  Sansa thought it was called a priest, or perhaps a pope.  Either way, it was an important piece, and Jon had just lost it.  Worse still, the girl smiled thinly and announced, “Check.”

Jon’s face fell, and his frustration sent a blinding wave of anger through Sansa’s gut.  Jon, who had taken the blame for the fight Theon had instigated with Sansa after bullying Bran in order to protect Sansa from the consequences; Jon, whose mother, Lyanna, was not well off like the rest of Casterly Rock’s parents and could sorely use the prize money from today’s tournament, even if neither of them would admit it; Jon, who had taken Sansa to the Valentine’s Day ball when Harry had ditched her, even though he hated dancing – Jon had deserved to have Sansa set things to rights for him long ago, and now was a late and uncomfortable time for her to start, but start and finish it she would.  She drew a deep breath and turned to Theon, who was shifting in his chair next to her.  One look at the satisfied grin on his face hardened her determination and brought a devilish smile to her own, and she turned to raise her lips to a startled Theon’s ear.

“Maybe I don’t want him to be my boyfriend,” she whispered.  “Maybe I’d rather try something…different.”  She ran one finger slowly up Theon’s arm until she felt the blush coming on, and Theon’s eyes widened.  This time it was Sansa’s turn to wink at him.

“That is, if the invitation’s still open,” she whispered, her lips nearly touching his ear.  She forced herself not to cringe.  Theon’s cat-eating grin returned, and Sansa removed her hand from his arm at once.

“Might be,” muttered Theon and leaned over to reach an arm around Sansa’s shoulders until his hand was resting on her ribs, too close to Sansa’s chest for her liking.  His other hand cupped Sansa’s leg just above her knee.  Sansa pasted another sweet smile on her face.

“Maybe we should start planning our first date,” she murmured, emphasizing the last word.  “Maybe for tomorrow, hmm?  Not in such a boring place, though.  Maybe the hallway instead?”  She raised an eyebrow, and Theon’s grin widened.  

“After you, my lady,” he said, lifting his hand from Sansa’s knee.  She sighed with relief and moved silently from chair to chair until she reached the end of the row and tiptoed to the door.

Once they were out in the hallway, Theon grabbed Sansa’s hand with one of his own.  He used his other hand to maneuver her back against the wall and moved to slant his mouth across hers.  Sansa turned her head away just in time, pivoted on her heels, and used her momentum to push a startled Theon into the closest corner.  She drew back her leg and shoved her knee straight into Theon’s crotch.  He doubled over and collapsed on the floor at once, and his mouth fell open, but instead of a howl of pain, it emitted only deep, wheezing gasps.

“Don’t do that to Jon again,” she said, her voice shaking.  “Don’t go near Jon again.  And don’t come near me again, either.  Come to think of it, don’t go near anyone in my family again.”

By the end of her speech, her voice had steadied, and so had her gait.  She whirled around and marched back into the community room with her chin firmly in the air.

Just as Sansa swept through the door, the middle school students filed through the door at the opposite end of the room.  The teachers were resetting the timer and chessboard, and Jon was shuffling off to the audience area with the rest of his high school classmates.  Sansa darted across a row of chairs to reach them.

“Jon!” she exclaimed, and he whirled around so quickly that the pencil fell from behind his ear.  Sansa bent to pick it up.

“Sorry,” she said as she handed it to him, and Jon shrugged.

“No problem,” he said as he pushed the pencil back into its place.  Neither of them said anything for a long moment until Jon, who looked more dour than usual, asked, “Will Gilly have anyone else to help her with the setup tomorrow?  For the play?”

Sansa blinked until she remembered the community theater’s spring play, for which she had done most of the artwork and costume design.

“She’ll have me,” she replied.  Jon stared at her, confused.

“But you’re going on a date with Theon,” he said.  Sansa gaped at him in disbelief.

“No, I’m not!” she exclaimed.  “Why in the name of anything halfway decent would I go on a date with that sleazeball?”

The furrows deepened on Jon’s forehead.  “But I heard you,” he said.  “During the match, I mean.”

Heat flooded Sansa’s face.  If Jon had been able to hear that much, had he caught the rest of their conversation?  At that rate, it was a wonder he had been able to concentrate on his match at all.

“I – I – ”  Sansa cleared her throat.  She opened her mouth once, twice, and three times before she could get any words out.

“I said that so I could get him out of the room,” she said at last, “and stop him from distracting you.  And don’t worry; he knows now that I wouldn’t touch him with a twenty-foot pole.  And – oh, I’m sorry!  How did the match go?”

All of the dourness had melted off Jon’s face as Sansa had spoken, and a full smile had replaced it.

“I won,” he said, shrugging.  Sam Tarly, standing just behind Jon, rolled his eyes.

“Of course he won,” he said.  “He always does.”  

Jon was in the middle of rolling his eyes right back at his friend when Sansa, relieved beyond measure, threw her arms around him.

“Congratulations!” she squealed, much more loudly than she had intended.  Jon stood stock still for a moment, but moved both arms to rest tentatively on her back at the same moment someone cleared his throat right in front of them.  Sansa and Jon broke apart to see Mr. Mallister glaring at them both.  They murmured hasty apologies and fell into the seats immediately behind him.  Jon’s face was still red when he turned to Sansa again, reaching up to adjust his pencil as he did so.

“So – well – if you’re not doing anything with Theon – or anyone else,” he said, “do you want to go to Hot Pie’s for dinner before the play tomorrow?  Sam and Gilly can’t make it, but I figured – if you still wanted to do it, like before…”

Sansa smiled.  Gilly, the other costume designer and a senior at Winterfell High School, had joined her, Jon, and Sam for dinner on the opening night of every community theater production on which they had worked over the past two years.  Harry had been furious when Sansa had kept up that tradition with last fall’s production of Romeo and Juliet rather than going to his cross-country practice.

“Of course,” she said at once.  Then the rest of Jon’s words sank in.  

“Wait, Sam and Gilly can’t come?”

Jon shook his head.  “No,” he said quietly.  His gaze darted to the floor before reaching back up to meet Sansa’s.  “I mean, if you don’t want to if it’s just us, that’s fine.  We can pick another night for all four of us.  I just thought if you still wanted to do opening night – well, we should.”

Sansa could only blink.  She could just imagine what the gossip mill would grind out once she had been seen going out alone with Jon Snow –

Then she grinned at him.  “I think we should, too,” she replied, and Jon’s face lit up as Sansa had never seen it do before, not even when he had opened the first package of blue pencils she had given him as his secret admirer so long ago.  “What time?”

“The usual – five?” Jon offered, and Sansa nodded at once.  Jon turned in his seat to face her.

“Thanks for getting Theon out of my hair, by the way,” he said.  “If you hadn’t – ”

Sansa shook her head.  “You’d still have won,” she said.  “You’re the best chess player I’ve met.  And sort of the best neighbor.  And you deserved it.”  She turned in her own seat to face him.  “You more than deserved it, Jon Snow.”

Jon’s grin softened.  “Well,” he replied, “you’re sort of the best artist I’ve met.  And probably the best dancer.  And the best Theon-fighter.”

Sansa giggled.  “Theon-fighter?”

Jon shrugged.  “It’s a skill few people have,” he said dryly, and Sansa laughed again.  “So of course, you deserve it too.  That is, whatever you want at Hot Pie’s.”

Sansa gave him a pointed look.  “You know what you’re setting yourself up for when you say that,” she said, and Jon’s grin widened again.  Sansa had always ordered Hot Pie’s Triple Banana Split for dessert after their prior dinners with Sam and Gilly, largely because Harry would give her an odd look on their dates if she ever ordered dessert.  Sam and Gilly would usually have a bite or two each, leaving Jon and Sansa to devour the rest.

“Deal,” Jon said, and held out his hand.  Sansa shook it, and, as she did, shifted in her chair so she could watch Bran take his next turn at the chessboard.  She lost her balance and would have fallen had Jon not reached his arm out to steady her.

“Thanks,” Sansa murmured.  She should have let go of Jon’s arm, but it felt so warm and alive and comforting against her own that she kept it wound around his.  Jon held his arm up as if waiting for her to let go, but when she did not, he looked at her with the same warm, lopsided grin he’d given her the night they’d danced together at the Valentine’s Day ball – when they’d agreed to be friends and fellow weirdos, as Sansa had put it – except that it was softer, and his eyes were brighter, and his shoulder was bumping up comfortably against hers.  Sansa could not hold back another giggle before she leaned her head to rest against it.  As she did so, she felt the blue pencil dislodge from behind Jon’s ear and clatter to the floor behind them.

“Oh – I’m sorry!” she exclaimed.  She began to get up, but Jon shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he said.  “I’ll get it later.”

Sansa shot him an incredulous look, but Jon only gave her that soft, silly grin again, and she nestled back against him at once.

“Deal,” she murmured.  She gave him a grin loopier than his own.  She supposed she should have been embarrassed, and she supposed she should care about the rumors and whispers the school’s gossip mill would churn out on Monday, and what Harry would say, and what Jeyne would say, but when Jon smiled back, not just his eyes but the entire room lit up, and Sansa stopped caring at all.

And so it was that neither one of them heard Bran calling, “Checkmate.”

[meekochan-art]

[ NOTE ] Unfinished, but I want to move on.

Modern AU guesswork of Liesl and Goblin King from Wintersong (by S. Jae-Jones).

AUs aren’t my thing. And yet... I wondered what kind of music Liesl would write, leading to what they might look like and figured it would be the closest thing to drawing a hawt Goblin King my hand is capable of doing. (Some songs I listen to lead to this pondering, since classical bores me. Overall, I got bad taste in music, so not gonna even attempt a playlist. But! Will mention that when shuffle played NIN “Closer” I was like, whoa, this totally fits their initial internal struggles and escapes before they find themselves. [edit] After reading the unadulterated version, their struggle doesn’t match the struggle I interpret in “Closer.” [/edit] )

When deciding a pose, this particular one immediately popped in mind. Thought of one of their early conversations, either in Goblin Grove or Marketplace Mall. (Leaning towards Goblin Grove for privacy.) Liesl is guarded and wary of Goblin King as he removes her headphones. (Or put on; I clearly didn’t add enough detail to suggest she’s listening to something to escape/ignore him. Lack of planning. *sweatdrop* )

So... What do you see? *.* Any storytellers conjuring up a scenario for this scene? (Or a seasoned AU consumer/creator desiring to correct my guesswork with the red pen of doom?) Please! Share your imagination in a reblog! (I beg of you: entertain meeeeeeee~)

The follow wall of texts are what I thought of when modernizing of Liesl and Goblin King as if Wintersong were to be set in modern times instead.

Liesl: Plain, dull, invisible... But not fugly; that would attract attention. Not sure if I should think of her as a cat person or a wolf lover... Part time local college student with undecided major, mostly due to being in a rut from helping out with local family business--a diner--and her slightly backwards thinking alcoholic father. (Her mother’s biggest mistake/regret is marrying the bastard?) Kathe is super hot and popular, and rumors suggests she slept with half the school. (Of course, Liesl does not believe such rumors.) Josef is a slowly becoming something on youtube...and in the near future something viral. Hans...the boring boy next door, I guess. *shrugs* Oh, and her grandma would be running a psychic hotline scam! No idea about Antonius and Francois...music producer and contracted child entertainer? Back to Liesl. She goes by Liz, maybe Lizzy as a young child. Music is her passion, obviously, and she mainly listens to highly artistic music plus quite a few strange experimental sleep-inducing tracks. Naturally, she’s the secret genius behind her lil bro’s unique sounds. Instruments...she has dabbled in all sorts, but main instrument of choice would be the electronic keyboard due to its convenience.

Goblin King: A mystery. Really. (How many decades/centuries has he lived? Does he update with time? Does the Underground now have electricity? Does metal burn him?) When I turned off my brain, gothic punk attire won. Though I suspect that’s just my subconscious forcing that aesthetics onto him. Sorry if I ruined him for you. *mopes* Could have left him with historic attire but it felt too...time travel-ish. I guess casual clothing would have been more fitting but so boring. (And what kind of casual would a modern day Goblin King don?) As for music, he listen to anything, but performs only certain genres. I can’t imagine him performing t(w)een pop. Not even humming along. Or, should that genre be a guilty pleasure of his? o.o’ In modern time, he’d upgrade to an electric violin for occasional fun, but still mostly rock on his acoustic. Somehow. Don’t ask me how. (Currently can’t think of how he’d transition to electric guitar. Otherwise that’s what I’d give him. Lead guitarist of The Underground! ...that’s a very uncreative band name. orz )

If you’re bored--or just plain curious--bonus stuff under cut~

[ WARNING ] The following image may cause you to spit/choke whatever’s in your mouth.

What if...

I had to. I just had to. *walks out the door*

*sneaks back in* Okay, with that out of the way...

Intended to sketch up other styles but realized I’m way too lazy to google for ref. (I seriously can’t fashion. I google preppy and was like, nope, not gonna study.)

Also tried to sketch out other characters in modern time but didn’t get far...

Here’s Kathe. (Face is random cause I failed to formulate one in my mind.) As already mentioned, I can’t fashion. Seriously. I can’t. Despite years of flipping through fashion mags. Figured in modern time Kathe would be a health/fitness enthusiast that proudly shows off her killer(?) bod (that I failed to sketched out.)

Still scrolling? Wow, you must be bored as hell!

If you’re one of those rare few people that enjoy seeing art progression from the beginning to the end... (If the GIF fails to load, please view it on dA.) As you can see, I wasted quite a bit of time adjusting Goblin King’s head and expanded the canvas and eventually just gave up after painting the values. (Meant to try glazing coloring technique again.)

Oh, and that cropped image (with large ass watermark) at the top of this post... Supposed to be 100% zoom but gonna assume it’ll fail. Please fullview it on dA. ^^

[iisuya-simps]

Get to know me!

Hi! I go by Iisuya on this blog. Iisuya is a shipping personality I created in high school as an extension of myself (kind of like a Sanders Sides thing)

I started this as a prompt blog at the end of high school cause that was popular at the time I guess. But I eventually got busy and abandoned it. (Lack of motivation too)

I was never good at math, science or english student in school. (I still got a ways to go) but I always loved to write as a hobby from a young age so I think this blog will help my writing skills. I'm an arts kid baybee. And it's awesome to interact with people! I don't have a lot of self-esteem but I'm working on that too! :')

I'm rambling...

But yeah I like writing as a hobby but irl I'm a video game composer! I don't work for a studio or anything yet. Though I hope soon I'll be able to join a small studio and write music for a good game.

If you guys wanna hear some of my music I'll link it later.

I graduated college a few years ago doing music arts and that really helped develop my composition and theory skills. I've worked on a few game jams as well. Which I can also link later

Why did I choose to be a composer?

I wanted to be a fashion designer since I was a kid but gave up because I can't draw or sew...haha (I like to cross-stitch tho!)

Music has always played a big role in my life and I just wanna make songs that well get people pumped up or feel feels :p

Musical inspirations

Being a musician/composer I like to listen to a bunch of different genres. My favorites being

Classical - Rachmaninoff

Orchestral video game music - (legit anything but my fav soundtrack is Xenoblade Chronicles)

J-rock/J-pop! - LiSA is my QUEEN! (Legit I could go off about her forever shes just so talented) My fav J-rock Band is Mrs.GREENAPPLE (gosh they're so good)

Jazz - I've always liked smooth jazz artists like Peter White, Paul Hardcastle, Euge Groove (and of course the OGs like Chet Baker, Duke Ellington and Herbie Hancock) I can't fit them all into this post there are too many

My favorite video game composer of all times is Yoko Shimomura. I hope I can be at most half as great as her someday :")

I am not a fan of Country or Blues at all... (that's another rant for another time)

Fandoms

I'm a Disney nerd of course! (Fav is Aladdin)

Though my favorite movie overall is The Prince of Egypt

My favorite games are Animal Crossing, Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy and Xenoblade Chronicles (+ many others)

I got into anime pretty late (my mom wouldn't let me watch it was a kid cause it was "evil")

But my top 5 are probably

Clannad

Toradora

Assassination classroom

Uta no prince sama

Akagami no shirayukihime

(Gah again so many to choose from)

I started Clannad in the middle of high school and it's been my favorite ever since. I got into J-rock my first year of college (Rockin battle themes and anime openings are some of my favorite things to write)

I watch a lot of YouTube as my go-to entertainment (besides anime)

I like watching

Game Grumps

Markiplier

Chuggaconroy

And many others...

Random things

🎹🇨🇦🌶🍔🍝🍦🍫🐶👩🏽‍🤝‍👨🏾♍ She/her INFP-T

My favorite color is Blue! (It was pink for years tho)

I love spaghetti, mustard and dark chocolate!

My favorite game to play is Animal crossing!

I'm learning Japanese! (my friends and I are planning to go to Japan when it's safe)

My favorite webtoons? I'll save that for another post

My favorite ships?? I'll save that for another post...

I'll do a Q&A or something if yall want XD

Sorry if this was a lot 😅

[adenathebean-blog]

The Great Job Search of 2017

Hello all,

Wow, another super long break between blog posts. But you’ll be glad to hear that I’ve actually been busy over the past few weeks and not just sitting in my apartment watching k-dramas. I’d spent a fair amount of time growing accustomed to my new apartment, neighborhood, church, and friends over the past seven weeks, so naturally, my next step was to begin the daunting process of finding a job.

I’d gotten a lot of mixed reviews on being a teacher in Cambodia, some from friends and acquaintances who have experience and some from all of the online research that I’d done. Some of the pros included my status as a UK citizen and my time spent in the US, my age, the desperate need for native English teachers in SE Asia, my TEFL certificate, and the fact that I’m a female. The cons largely consisted of my age, the oversaturation of “do-good” teachers in SE Asia, my lack of a bachelor’s degree, and the fact that I’m black. Surprisingly (or maybe unsurprisingly), none of this advice was the least bit helpful. Any education standards that exist in Cambodia are rarely followed and whether you get hired or not is up the complete discretion of whoever you end up in the interview room with.

So, with high expectations and images of local flocking to me, begging me to teach their children, I did some research about the international schools closest to me. And by research, I mean that I typed “school” into Google maps and clicked on the results that were in English. I then proceeded to wade through pages and pages of information that was either incredibly vague or had nothing to do with me (that is, if the website was functioning in the first place). The foreign teachers in Cambodia pages I’d joined on Facebook were incredibly helpful during this stage and I check in almost every day to see what new positions were available in the city.

Being the planner that I am, I made a document with a list of the most promising schools, their distance from my apartment, when the next term began, and some of their requirements for prospective teachers. Then I went down my list and emailed each of the schools in turn and waited patiently for some responses. Besides a single rejection email, on the grounds that I wasn’t qualified enough (no shocker there) I got nada. And as much as I had been warned, I was finally learning first hand that Cambodia is not a country of planners and organizers and schedulers.

At that point, I didn’t really know what to do, so I waited it out for a bit, not sure what my other options were. A few days later, I did end up scheduling an interview with a small school that I had several good recommendations from people at church. The interview was online and went well, despite my webcam choosing that precise morning to stop working. Another school also called and asked if I could come in and do a teaching demo. I said yes, but the prospect of doing an hour long teaching demo with 3-4 year olds and no interview beforehand was more than a little daunting. The night before the demo was scheduled was one of the most difficult I’ve had since moving to Cambodia. I was missing family and friends and the lifestyle I’d grown accustomed to and the next morning (after I’d called my mom and finally managed to stop crying) I called to reschedule the demo. In typical Cambodia fashion, they told me they’d call back and let me know what future day and time worked best for them. As you can imagine, that was the last I heard from them. And the day after that I was contacted by the school I’d interviewed with and told that they were very sorry, but they had no positions available until the end of June. (Not sure why they interviewed me and gave me every detail of the contract if they didn’t have any vacancies, but I’m not bitter. Heh.)

In any case, that week ended up being a dud and I honestly wasn’t feeling very motivated to keep searching for a job in a field where those in charge seemed to be intentionally unhelpful. On the other hand, I spend most of my days stressing about running out of money and being a penniless cat woman in the middle of Phnom Penh. There were a lot of desperate prayers and even more not so useful advice during that time. The most frustrating part had to be the questions that people asked at church and other social gatherings.

Them: So what brought you to Cambodia?

Me: That’s a long story haha. Lots of things brought me here.

Them: Like what?

Me: (expiring visa, too late to apply for school, America’s kicking me out, didn’t feel like going to England, people at church from Cambodia, Asia’s cool, K-pop, Cambodia’s as close as I can get to Korea right now) I just feel like God called me here, ya know?

Them: Cool, cool. So what are you doing here?

Me: At church?

Them: No, in the country. Are you working?

Me: Ah not yet. Looking though. Do you have any recommendations for good schools?

Them: Oh, so you’re a teacher?

Me: Well, not yet.

Them: So you just finished your degree?

Me: *desperately looking for a way out of this convo* No actually, still working on that. I have my TEFL though.

Them: Do you have any experience?

Me: I tutored and worked with the teen ministry in San Diego.

Them: I see. How old are you?

Me: Twenty-one.

Them: Oh, you’re young.

Me: Yeah.

Them: Yeah

 So that was fun. So much fun. Anyway, I was seriously starting to doubt my purpose in Cambodia. It’s true, I have no experience in the classroom and I spent the last twenty years of my life proclaiming to the unwashed masses that the last thing I ever wanted to do was teach, especially kids. God is funny like that. He likes to answer a few prayers and then throw us for a loop by giving us something we never asked for, but learn to appreciate later. (Maybe if I tell him I never want to marry a tall, handsome, Asian man who appreciates the fine arts, plays six instruments, and loves the outdoors…) Wow, these posts are getting more and more personal as I go along. Anyway, last Thursday I did another intensive round of applications, including making phone calls and actually visiting a couple of schools and handing over my CV. One of the schools I had the address for (and had spoken to the director of) turned out not to exist, at least not in the place that it claimed to. The encouragement was strong with this round and by Thursday evening, I had secured four interviews. One was postponed as the school had another applicant who they’d already met with express interest in taking the position.

So, feeling much more sprightly and confident, I spent Friday morning playing my part as a wedding singer. (True story. Chiara and I sang Amazing Grace at the most beautiful wedding that I have ever been to. If this teaching thing doesn’t work out, being a professional wedding singer is my next choice.) That afternoon, I had my first in person interview. It went well. The school was nice, as were the principal and vice principal and its strongest feature was the proximity to the apartment. Monday came along and I had another interview at a school that was much further away, but the campus was new and clean and the director was a fellow Brit, which earned him (and me, I think) extra points. The last interview was on Monday afternoon and it was the one I was most nervous about. With the previous two, I had sent my CV ahead of time, so they had interviewed me knowing that I didn’t have a degree of very much experience. I’d simply made an inquiry to the last school about whether they had positions and they’d asked me to interview right away (I actually had to reschedule because of the wedding).

I had no idea what I was going into and ended up at the wrong campus. There are three different campuses, one for kindergarten, one for primary, and one for high school, which is where the main office is. I showed up at the kindergarten one, but luckily all of the campuses are on the same street within walking distance. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the director who I was supposed to interview with was fifteen minutes late. Once he showed up though, it was smooth sailing all the way through. He was the first person to conduct one of my interviews who wasn’t a westerner, although his English was phenomenal. Despite this, he had some of the most western ideals out of all of the people I’d spoken to during my job hunt. He placed a lot of emphasis on communication (which is a rarity in Cambodia) as well as parental involvement (also rare) and said that he likes to give people chances, it’s just up to them to prove they deserve it. And then he whipped out a contract right then and there. We went through it together, I asked all of my questions, and we sealed the deal. As of the 29th of May, 2017, I became a kindergarten teacher at True Visions International School!

Funnily enough, half an hour after I’d gotten home and done a victory lap around my apartment, I got a call from the school that I’d interviewed with that morning, letting me know that I’d passed the interview and they had a position for me with their kindergarten class. It was the same pay, and although I liked both schools, True Visions really won me over and is much closer to where I’m living, so I’m incredibly satisfied with my choice.

Now that the easy part is over, all I have to do is learn how to teach English to kindergarteners. Woohoo!

[re-the-bear]

blah blah blog

Seriously I’m tired and the following might be confusing, it’s mostly a stream of thought thing.

Land of the free? Home of the Brave? How brave are you that you drive by and shoot up a place? How American is that? How free are people when you start acting like they don’t deserve the same protection as everyone else? More so people who live their lives in fear of some spiteful cowardly racist homophobe coming at them. I was a child of an enlisted sailor in the United States Navy. I had morning inspections, I had drills, I had patriotism pummeled into my brain and my skin. America is supposed to be the land of Freedom, of Liberty, and Justice for ALL.

This isn’t justice, there hasn’t been true justice in the USA in years. Not for the Folks in Flint going on without clean water. Not for Trayvon and the growing list of black people injured or killed needlessly. Not for my Trans sisters who’ve been brutally murdered for daring to live their truth. Not for the thousands of refugees seeking the Freedom we so proudly claim to spread through our bombings and drone strikes and militarized influence.

We are not free. Not unless free means free to choose McDonalds or Burger King, Dominos or Pizza Hut, Ford or Chevy, Left or Right, Democrat or Republican. We’ve succumbed to the idea that the only freedom we’re entitled to is the freedom of choice. Not the freedom of religion, of speech, of press, of protest, the rights entitled within the bill of rights are freedoms we’re loosing every damned day. To the menace and laziness of the hateful and the xenophobic, the White Anglo-Saxon Protestants who are pro birth but anti women’s medicine, anti child, and noticeably not neighborly in the fucking slightest.

I’ve been queer my whole life, since I developed my first crush (which was on a girl in grade school) and threw my first fit about being forced into a dress. I hated being a ‘girl’, I didn’t know what that meant though. My parents insisted I was just a tomboy. I wore jeans, my favorite color was blue and I played games with the local boys. I learned to accept that I was what people called a girl, even though I didn’t feel like a girl. I was forced into a local cheer squad, then into Girl Scouts (which I enjoyed because it taught me practical and outdoorsy stuff) and a swim team. I was constantly uncomfortable for years, couple that with an abusive alcoholic father figure and a mother who’s a workaholic and miserable and just not good at being a mom, along with 2 younger siblings; and you’ve got a childhood with no room for questioning gender or sexuality (or anything really). I sometimes wonder how no one noticed the issues, but by the time the internet really became a thing (google wasn’t around when I was 14) I had already given up on the system. I tried to pass, I wore makeup and tried to tame my wild hair, tried to be fashionable and make nice with other girls. It never really worked. Then I met someone who’d change my life, a gay boy moved into my home town and we rode the same bus. He taught me about sexuality and witchcraft. I learned that there was a Goddess and that She was our Mother Divine. I also learned that my attraction to girls was okay and that I didn’t need to “find a man” if I didn’t want to. I was raised in a house without TV, and next to no internet access. I lived a 30 minute drive from anything resembling a mall or place to hangout. I didn’t have a license until I was nearly 18 and only got a car so I could drive my siblings to school and so I could attend college courses. My world was so narrow and empty for years, and I’m still scared. I’m still that kid trying to pass, more than a decade later because of people who shoot up LGBTQ Community centers, or who try to set Muslim or Jewish businesses on fire. Because I grew up with those people. I grew up knowing how they work and how easy it is for them to justify every vile evilness they commit. They have no sense of responsibility for their words. And many seem to lack basic empathy. They make cognitive dissonance into an art form. I understand that I experience white privilege, I understood it when I realized I was the most average description of girl in most TV shows I’d seen up that point (white, 5ft 6in (167cm), long ‘dirty’ blonde hair, blue eyes) toss in classes and slight bushiness to the hair and I’m stereotypical uncool/nerdy girl. I realized I could use this power for evil, if I planned it carefully I could pull of quite a bit of shenanigans because I looked bookish and motherly. This is wrong, I shouldn’t be seen as less likely to perpetrate a crime just because of a bad haircut and some fucking glasses. So I ditched the long dirty blonde hair (it’s currently an icy blue color and bordering on shoulder length again *blergh*) and have an on again off again thing for contacts. That still doesn’t erase the privilege, and I’m sorry for those times I forget. Anyways if you’ve read this far, I’m sorry. I was angry about the state of the world and decided not to crawl into bed grinding my teeth and instead stayed up to try to finish this coherently. I should probably try to join the local LGBTQ community but because I live so close to my home town I’m afraid of running into people who knew me and who will try to tear me down. I have enough self-doubt on my own