#i shared the initial sketch before and was surprised it was so liked

[sukugo]

was drawing this a while back and don't think ill be finishing either versions :P

[gyuuberryy]

a love affair in colour

pairing: art tutor!jay x princess!reader

synopsis: as a princess exploring her artistic passions, you’re drawn to jay, your mesmerising art teacher whose lessons stir more than just creativity. what begins as a quest to master your craft quickly becomes a whirlwind of tension and forbidden desire. with every brushstroke and shared moment, the line between teacher and lover blurs. but when societal barriers and personal doubts threaten your connection, will you both find a way to embrace a future together, or will your love remain a beautiful but fleeting masterpiece?

genre: strangers to lovers, forbidden relationship, comfort

warnings: kissing, lots of tension, mentions of status difference, angst, a little suggestive

note: i used my experience in art to detail all the content related to it so bear with me if it seems a little modern, i don't know much about how they did art in the olden times. also jay just constantly raises my standards??? i love that man so much he's so husband material it hurts TT enjoy reading!

word count : 11.1k

royally yours masterlist | prev:heeseung | next: jake

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

you’ve always been drawn to art. as a child, while other princesses were learning courtly etiquette or practising diplomacy, you were sneaking into the gardens to sketch the trees or hiding in your chambers, fingers stained with ink as you copied paintings from the castle’s grand halls. but those were mere indulgences, fleeting escapes from the rigid structure of royal life.

when your parents noticed your growing talent, they encouraged it—as a hobby, of course. something to amuse yourself with between diplomatic meetings, public appearances, and the pressures of royal expectations. but for you, art was never just a pastime. it was a passion. an escape. a way to express the parts of you that didn’t fit into the carefully curated image of a princess.

so, when you told your parents you wanted to pursue art seriously, it was met with initial resistance. a princess has duties, obligations, responsibilities. but you persisted, and eventually, they relented. if you were going to study art, they wanted the best for you. that’s how jay came to the palace—an accomplished artist in his own right, though he came from modest beginnings. he was hired to help you master the craft before your trip to paris, where you’d study under the finest artists in the world.

jay’s reputation preceded him. he was known not only for his skill but for his ability to bring out the best in his students. when he arrived at the palace, you were both eager and nervous, unsure of what to expect.

your first meeting was in the grand studio, a room that had once been your sanctuary. now, as you stand by the window, gazing out over the palace grounds, you feel the weight of what’s to come. you’re no longer a novice; this isn’t just a casual hobby. this is the beginning of something serious, something real. and the thought of it is both exhilarating and terrifying.

the door creaks open behind you, and you turn to see him—jay. he’s younger than you expected, though older than you by a few years. his clothes are simple, a stark contrast to the luxury of your surroundings, yet he wears them with a quiet confidence. his dark hair is tousled, as though he’s just come from a long day at work, and there’s a certain intensity in his eyes, a focus that makes your stomach flip.

“your highness,” he greets, bowing low.

“please, just my name,” you say quickly, hoping to dispel some of the formality that hangs between you. “if we’re to work together, there’s no need for titles.”

he straightens, and for a moment, you think you see a flicker of something—surprise? amusement?—in his expression, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “very well,” he says simply. “shall we begin?”

you nod, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves as you lead him to the easel set up near the window. it’s been prepared for your first lesson, a blank canvas stretched taut, waiting for the first stroke of charcoal or paint. you’ve done this before, hundreds of times, but never under the watchful eye of a teacher like jay.

“before we begin,” he says, setting his bag down on the table, “tell me why you want to do this. not because you have to—because you want to.”

his question catches you off guard. you’d expected him to dive straight into the technical aspects of drawing or painting, not to ask about your motivations. but there’s a seriousness in his tone that tells you he’s not just asking out of curiosity. he wants to understand. he wants to know you.

“i’ve always loved art,” you admit, folding your hands in front of you, feeling a little exposed. “it’s the one thing that’s mine. in a world where so much is decided for me, art is where i get to choose. it’s... freedom.”

jay nods slowly, as if weighing your words. “art is freedom,” he agrees quietly. “it’s expression. it’s telling the world who you are without saying a word. but it’s also discipline. and commitment. if you’re serious about this, i’ll push you. i’ll make sure you’re challenged. does that sound like something you’re ready for?”

your heart beats faster. his intensity is palpable, and it’s hard not to be swept up in it. “yes,” you say, though the word comes out softer than you intended. “i’m ready.”

he regards you for a moment longer, then reaches into his bag, pulling out a small sketchbook and a piece of charcoal. “we’ll start with something simple,” he says, handing you the charcoal. “i want you to draw me.”

you blink, surprised. “draw you?”

“it’s a good exercise,” he explains, moving to stand a little distance away. “if you can capture the essence of a person, you can draw anything.”

your fingers tighten around the charcoal as you sit at the easel, facing him. it feels strange, having him as the subject. his features are sharp, defined, but there’s something else—an intensity in his gaze that makes it hard to concentrate. you take a deep breath and begin to sketch, the sound of the charcoal scratching against the canvas the only sound in the room.

it’s not easy. his face is a study in contrasts—strong jawline, soft eyes, dark brows furrowed in concentration as he watches you work. you find yourself getting lost in the details, trying to capture the exact curve of his lips, the shadow beneath his cheekbone. but the more you focus, the more elusive it becomes.

“you’re overthinking it,” jay says suddenly, breaking the silence. he moves behind you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body, though he doesn’t touch you. “you’re focusing on the parts, not the whole. step back. see the bigger picture.”

you try to follow his advice, but his presence behind you is distracting, and the scent of him—earthy, with a hint of something fresh���fills your senses. your heart beats faster, though you try to ignore it.

jay steps closer, his breath warm against your ear. “here,” he says softly, reaching out to guide your hand. his fingers brush yours, sending a jolt through your body, and you almost drop the charcoal. “loosen your grip. let the lines flow.”

you do as he says, though your heart races at his nearness. his hand lingers over yours for a moment too long before he pulls away, but the connection between you doesn’t fade. the air feels charged, as if something unsaid hangs between you.

when you finish the sketch, it’s rough, imperfect, but there’s something there—a spark of life, of emotion. jay leans over your shoulder to examine it, his expression unreadable.

“better,” he says after a moment, his voice low and approving. “you’ve captured something real here.”

you look at the drawing again, trying to see what he sees, but all you can think about is the way his hand felt over yours, the way his voice seemed to wrap around you like a secret.

as he moves to gather his things, you realise that this is just the beginning. the first lesson. but already, something has shifted between you. something neither of you can name yet, but it’s there—in the shared glances, the lingering touches, the unspoken connection.

and as jay turns to leave, promising to return for your next lesson, you can’t help but wonder if this is really just about art—or if something far more dangerous has already begun.

the days following your first lesson with jay felt like a strange new rhythm. art had always been a deeply personal escape for you, something that existed in the quiet moments between royal duties, but now it had become something more. each session with jay stirred something inside you—not just the desire to improve, but a spark of something you couldn't quite name.

jay had been nothing but professional, his focus always on your craft. but beneath his calm demeanour, there was an undercurrent, a kind of intensity in the way he looked at you during your lessons. it was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there, like the brushstrokes of a painting hidden beneath layers of paint.

today, as you enter the studio, you feel it more than ever. the room is bathed in soft light, the kind of glow that makes everything seem warmer, softer. jay is already there, setting up supplies on the table, his back to you. you watch him for a moment, your eyes tracing the broad lines of his shoulders, the way his hands move with such precision and care.

“good morning,” you say, finally breaking the silence. your voice comes out softer than you intended, the room swallowing the sound.

he turns, a brief smile crossing his face. “good morning.” there’s a hint of warmth in his tone, but as always, it’s controlled, measured. jay has never been one to show too much emotion, though lately, you’ve caught glimpses of something more.

“i thought we’d try something different today,” he says, gesturing to the large canvas in the corner of the room. “i want to work on your observation skills.”

you nod, intrigued. “what do you have in mind?”

instead of answering immediately, jay picks up a chair and places it in the centre of the room, angled toward the sunlight. he then takes his sketchbook and charcoal, positioning himself in front of the chair but far enough away that there’s space between you.

“i want you to sit,” he says simply, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before flickering away. “i’m going to sketch you.”

the request catches you off guard. “me? but... shouldn’t i be the one practising sketching?”

he smiles faintly, shaking his head. “today, i want you to feel what it’s like to be the subject. to understand how the artist sees you.” he glances at the canvas, and then back at you. “it’ll help you observe the world around you with more empathy, more connection.”

the thought of jay watching you, studying you so closely, makes your heart race. you’ve always been behind the canvas, never in front of it. to have his eyes on you, not just in passing but with the intention of capturing every detail—it feels strangely vulnerable.

but you trust him. there’s something about jay that puts you at ease, even when you’re unsure of yourself. so, you sit in the chair, adjusting your posture slightly, your hands resting in your lap.

“relax,” he says softly, his voice gentle. “you don’t have to pose. just be yourself.”

you try to do as he says, leaning back into the chair, though your heart is beating a little faster now. the room is quiet except for the faint scratch of his charcoal on the page, and you’re acutely aware of his gaze as it moves over you—your face, your hands, the way the light falls on your hair.

he works silently, his brow furrowed in concentration, and you find yourself watching him, trying to read the expression on his face. there’s a softness there that you hadn’t noticed before, a kind of careful attention that feels almost… tender.

for a while, neither of you speaks. you’re not sure how long has passed—minutes? hours? time seems to lose its meaning in this space, as if the world outside the studio doesn’t exist.

“so you want to pursue art huh?” jay’s voice breaks the silence, and you blink, surprised by the question.

“yes” you reply, shifting slightly in the chair.

he doesn’t look up from his sketch. “why did you choose art? out of everything you could have pursued?”

the question is one you’ve asked yourself many times. you think back to your childhood, to the afternoons spent sneaking away from your tutors to draw in the gardens, the way art always felt like a safe space in a world full of expectations.

“i think… it’s because art lets me be free,” you say slowly, choosing your words carefully. “in everything else, i’m the princess. i have to be perfect, poised, controlled. but with art, i can be messy. i can make mistakes. it’s mine.”

jay pauses, his hand hovering over the sketchbook for a moment before he continues. “freedom is important,” he says quietly. “especially for someone like you.”

there’s something in his tone, a weight to his words, and you wonder what he means by that. does he understand what it’s like to feel trapped by expectations? to want something more, something beyond the roles you’ve been given?

before you can ask, jay looks up, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he started sketching. his gaze is intense, but not in a way that makes you uncomfortable. it’s more like he’s seeing you, really seeing you, in a way that no one else ever has.

“you have a natural grace,” he says softly, almost as if speaking to himself. “but it’s more than that. there’s something… untamed about you.”

your breath catches in your throat. no one has ever spoken to you like that before. not with such quiet certainty, as if they’ve seen beyond the surface of who you are.

you don’t know what to say. the air in the room feels heavier now, charged with something you can’t quite name. you shift in your seat, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze, but jay’s expression remains calm, thoughtful.

he tilts his head slightly, observing you with the same intensity he’s had since the beginning of the lesson. “there’s more to art than technique,” he says, his voice low. “it’s about connection. about understanding the person you’re drawing, not just how they look, but who they are.”

his words stir something inside you—a sense of being understood in a way you’ve never experienced before. you’re not just a princess in this room, not just another student. you’re you, with all your complexities and contradictions, and somehow, jay has seen that.

it makes you feel exposed in a way you hadn’t anticipated, and yet there’s a comfort in it, too. you’ve spent your whole life hiding parts of yourself, but with jay, it feels like you don’t have to.

finally, he sets the sketchbook aside, standing up and crossing the room to where you’re seated. he doesn’t hand you the sketch immediately, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s unsure about showing it to you.

“you can tell a lot about a person by how they draw,” he says quietly, standing in front of you now, his gaze unwavering. “but you can tell even more by how they let themselves be seen.”

your pulse quickens, the weight of his words settling deep within you. it’s not just about the sketch anymore—it’s about everything. the way you’ve been navigating these lessons, the way you’ve been letting him into your world, piece by piece.

he holds out the sketch to you, and when you take it, your fingers brush against his, a fleeting touch that lingers in your mind longer than it should.

the drawing is beautiful. he’s captured you in a way that feels both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. there’s a softness to your expression, a quiet strength in the lines of your face, and yet… there’s something else. something deeper.

“it’s beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the lines with your fingertips. “i’ve never seen myself like this before.”

jay watches you carefully, his expression unreadable. “that’s because no one’s ever looked at you like this before.”

the words hit you like a gentle wave, their meaning sinking in slowly. you glance up at him, unsure of how to respond. there’s a new tension between you now, but it’s not the kind that comes from desire or rushed feelings. it’s deeper than that—a connection, a shared understanding that goes beyond mere attraction.

for a moment, you sit in silence, the sketch resting in your lap as the light from the window shifts slightly, casting long shadows across the room. you can feel the change in the air, but neither of you moves to break it.

and as jay steps back, giving you space, you realise that this—whatever it is—will take time to fully unfold. you’re not rushing toward anything, but there’s something between you now, something real and undeniable.

but for now, you’ll let it simmer. there’s no need to rush. not yet.

the days have passed like pages in a book, each art lesson with jay slowly building a tension that you feel in the very air of the studio. his presence is constant but controlled, his touch fleeting yet always careful. you’ve found yourself looking forward to these lessons more than you’d ever anticipated, though not only for the sake of art. something else draws you here each time, something that’s harder to admit even to yourself.

when you arrive at the studio today, the familiar scent of paint and canvas greets you, mingling with the crisp morning air. jay is there, of course, already preparing the materials, his back to you as he arranges brushes and bottles of linseed oil. the sun filters in through the tall windows, casting long beams across the room, turning everything into shades of gold. today feels different, though you can’t quite pinpoint why.

he turns as you approach, offering you a brief smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "good morning," he says, his voice as calm and composed as ever, though you think you detect a slight hesitancy behind his words.

"good morning," you reply, your heart already beating a little faster. the last few lessons have been charged with a new energy, a subtle yet undeniable pull between the two of you. you've tried to keep your thoughts focused on the art, but with each session, it’s become harder.

jay steps over to the large canvas he’s set up for today’s lesson. "we’re going to work on technique," he explains, holding up a palette of mixed colours, the vibrant hues blending like a sunset in his hands. "i want you to feel the texture of the paint, how the brush moves against the canvas. it’s all about control and release."

you nod, though the concept seems easier said than done. painting has always been more of a challenge for you, especially when it comes to finding that balance. jay, however, has a way of guiding you through each step without ever making you feel inadequate.

"let’s start with the basics," he says, handing you a brush. his fingers brush against yours for the briefest moment, and you feel a spark travel up your arm, though you’re sure he doesn’t notice.

you position yourself in front of the canvas, trying to steady your breathing as you dip the brush into the paint. the first few strokes are tentative, careful. you focus on the movement of your hand, but your mind is distracted by the weight of jay’s presence behind you. it’s as if the air in the room has thickened, every sound, every movement, magnified.

jay watches in silence for a few moments, then steps closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body behind you. "here," he murmurs softly, his voice right beside your ear. "let me show you."

before you can respond, he places his hands lightly on your waist, adjusting your stance. the touch is firm but gentle, and it sends a shockwave through your body. your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you’re hyper-aware of every point of contact—his hands on your hips, the warmth of his chest just inches from your back.

"relax," he whispers, his voice low and calming, though you can hear a slight strain in it, like he’s carefully keeping something in check. "you’re too tense."

easier said than done. you can barely think straight with him so close, let alone concentrate on the canvas. but you try, forcing yourself to take a breath, to focus on the task at hand. jay doesn’t move away. instead, he steps even closer, his chest nearly brushing your back as he moves his hands from your waist to your arm, guiding your wrist as you hold the brush.

"feel the paint," he says, his breath warm against your ear. "don’t fight it. let it flow."

his hand wraps around yours, firm but careful, and he moves your arm in a slow, fluid motion. the brush glides across the canvas with ease, the paint spreading in smooth, even strokes. his touch is light but deliberate, and you find yourself following his lead, your body responding to the way he directs the movement.

"you’re doing well," he murmurs, and you can feel his breath against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "just like that."

the room feels smaller, the air thicker, as if the space between you is shrinking with each passing second. you try to focus on the canvas, but it’s impossible with jay so close. his presence is overwhelming, consuming, and you’re acutely aware of every shift, every movement.

"you don’t need to force it," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper now, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "let the brush move with you."

you nod, though your throat is too dry to speak. the closeness between you is intoxicating, and you can feel the tension building with each breath you take. jay’s hand tightens slightly around yours, and for a moment, you wonder if he feels it too—the pull, the unspoken connection that seems to have grown stronger with each lesson.

he guides your hand in another slow stroke across the canvas, but this time, the brush slips slightly, leaving a streak of paint that’s a little too heavy. you let out a soft, frustrated sigh, but jay only chuckles, the sound low and warm.

"don’t worry about perfection," he says, his voice rumbling in your ear. "art isn’t about being perfect. it’s about feeling."

his hand lingers on yours a moment longer before he lets go, stepping back slightly. the sudden absence of his touch leaves you feeling off-balance, as if the ground beneath you has shifted. you exhale a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and lower the brush, your heart still racing.

"good," jay says, his voice a little more distant now as he moves back to the table. "you’re getting better. it’s all about control and release, but it takes time to find that balance."

you nod, though your mind is still reeling from the intensity of the moment. you’ve never felt so aware of your body, of your own reactions, as you do when jay is close like that. it’s as though he knows exactly how to touch you, how to guide you, without ever crossing the line—but just barely.

you place the brush down on the easel, turning to face him. jay is busy cleaning the palette, his face unreadable as he focuses on the task. but there’s something different about the way he holds himself, a tension in his posture that wasn’t there before.

"thank you," you say softly, breaking the silence that has settled between you. your voice sounds a little shaky, but you hope he doesn’t notice.

he glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before flickering away. "it’s my job," he replies, but there’s something in his tone—something almost… uncertain.

the silence that follows is heavy, filled with the unspoken tension that has been growing between you for weeks. you can feel it in the way he looks at you, in the way his hands linger just a little too long when he helps you. it’s as though you’re both standing at the edge of something, but neither of you knows how to take the next step.

finally, jay sets the palette down and steps back, putting a little more distance between you. "we’ll keep working on this," he says, his voice returning to its usual composed tone. "you’re improving, but there’s still more to learn."

you nod, feeling a little breathless, though you’re not sure if it’s from the painting or from the closeness you just shared. "i’ll keep practising," you say, though the words feel almost trivial in the weight of the moment.

jay gives you a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "good," he says softly, before turning back to his brushes. "we’ll pick up again tomorrow."

you linger for a moment, watching him as he carefully cleans the paint from his hands, his movements precise and controlled. and as you leave the studio, you can’t shake the feeling that something has changed between you, something that neither of you can ignore for much longer.

the pottery studio feels different today. the atmosphere is heavy, thick with anticipation, but you try to ignore it as you sit at the wheel, your hands already messy with clay. the wheel spins slowly beneath your fingers, but no matter how many times you’ve tried, the clay refuses to cooperate, collapsing into a lump before you can give it any real shape. you groan in frustration, watching another failed attempt crumble under your touch.

“take your time. it’s all about feeling the clay, not controlling it,” jay says softly from behind you, his voice calm but carrying that familiar undercurrent of something unspoken. he’s watching closely, his presence as steady as always, but today it feels more intense—like a subtle hum in the air that makes the space between you vibrate with tension.

you sigh, wiping your hands on your apron. "i don’t think i’m getting this at all," you mutter, staring down at the shapeless mound on the wheel. pottery has proven to be a far bigger challenge than painting—there’s something about the unpredictability of the clay that throws you off balance.

jay steps closer, his footsteps almost silent on the studio floor. "you’re too tense," he observes, his voice low and measured. "let me show you."

before you can respond, he’s already moving behind you. the air shifts as his body nears, and suddenly, you can feel the heat of him pressing close. he slides onto the bench behind you, his legs on either side of yours. the intimate position makes your heart race instantly, your pulse quickening in response to his proximity. his chest brushes your back, his breath warm on the side of your neck, and suddenly it’s hard to focus on anything other than how close he is.

he pauses his movements. “is it okay if i sit behind you like this? i may need to touch your hands as well.”

you nod at his soft words, “yes that’s alright.”

the studio feels smaller, the world outside forgotten as you’re enveloped by his presence. you can feel the solid warmth of his chest against your spine, the way his thighs gently cage yours. every point of contact feels electric, the tension simmering between you palpable.

“relax,” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper, low and soothing. his breath brushes the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “you’re trying too hard to control it. you have to let the clay respond to your touch.”

his hands move to cover yours, his fingers sliding over your clay-streaked knuckles. his touch is firm but gentle, guiding your hands to the wheel as it starts spinning once again. the sensation of his fingers wrapping around yours sends a ripple of awareness through your body, and for a moment, all you can focus on is the warmth of his skin, the weight of his hands over yours.

"feel the clay," jay instructs, his voice quiet but filled with intent. his breath is warm against your ear, and the proximity, the intimacy of the moment, makes it nearly impossible to concentrate. "it moves with you. let it guide you."

his hands press lightly against yours, directing your fingers as they glide over the surface of the clay. the wheel turns slowly beneath your palms, the soft texture of the clay smoothing out under the pressure. you try to focus on the task at hand, but the sensation of his body against yours—the gentle weight of his chest pressed to your back, his legs framing yours—is overwhelming. the world narrows down to the feel of his touch, the sound of his steady breath so close to your ear.

"you need to feel the shape," jay continues, his voice lower now, more intimate. his hands move with yours, guiding your fingers as they dip into the soft clay. his touch is deliberate, patient, and it feels like he’s not just teaching you pottery, but something deeper, something far more personal.

your hands move together as you both shape the clay, your fingers sliding inside the hollow of the vase. the action is slow, almost sensual, and the suggestiveness of the movement doesn’t escape you. the pressure of his fingers over yours, the way his hands direct yours in shaping the delicate interior, feels too intimate, too deliberate. the tension that has been building for weeks now feels almost unbearable.

your breath quickens, your heart hammering in your chest, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. jay’s chest presses more firmly against your back as his hands guide you deeper into the clay, shaping it from within. his fingers dip, mirroring yours, and the act of molding the vase becomes something far more intimate than you could have ever anticipated.

"just like that," jay whispers, his voice huskier than before, his breath hot against your ear. his hands slow, his fingers lingering on yours as you move together. the wheel spins quietly, the clay yielding to your touch, but it’s hard to focus on the art when the closeness between you feels like it’s about to explode into something more.

you can feel every movement of his chest against your back, the rise and fall of his breath growing uneven. the heat of his body is overwhelming, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on the clay. your pulse is racing, and you’re certain he can feel the way your body trembles slightly under his touch.

suddenly, you realise you can feel his heart. it’s beating erratically against your spine, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. the awareness crashes over you like a wave—he’s feeling it too. the tension, the pull between you, it’s not just in your head. his hands tighten slightly over yours, his chest pressing more firmly against your back, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like the world is tilting.

you bite your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, but it’s impossible with him so close, with the weight of his body grounding you while simultaneously setting you on fire. your fingers dip into the clay once more, but all you can feel is the warmth of his hands over yours, the way his presence fills every corner of your mind.

jay’s breath hitches, barely audible, but you hear it. you feel it. the tension between you has been simmering for weeks, and now it’s at a boiling point, undeniable and heavy.

after what feels like an eternity, jay finally pulls his hands away, the absence of his touch leaving you cold and disoriented. his chest moves away from your back, and he stands slowly, as if he, too, is struggling to shake off the intensity of the moment.

"good work," he says, his voice quieter than usual, almost strained. he steps away from the wheel, his hands clenching and unclenching as though he’s trying to regain his composure.

you remain seated, your hands still coated in clay, your heart still racing. the silence between you is thick with everything unsaid. you can still feel the echo of his hands on yours, the warmth of his body lingering against your skin.

finally, you glance over your shoulder, your eyes searching his face for some kind of answer, some indication of what he’s thinking. but jay’s expression is unreadable, his gaze fixed on the now-complete vase on the wheel.

"you did well," he repeats, though his tone is quieter, almost distant. there’s something unresolved in the air, something that neither of you dares to acknowledge aloud.

as you stand, your legs unsteady, you can’t help but feel that something between you has shifted irreversibly. the line you’ve both been walking for weeks feels dangerously close to being crossed, and the question now is whether either of you is ready to take that step.

the last day of your art lessons starts with a sense of melancholy that you try to push away. you know that this will be your final session with jay, and although you’ve learned more than you could have imagined, the thought of no longer spending time with him feels like a loss. he greets you at the studio with his usual warm smile, but there’s something different about him today—a lightness that wasn’t there before.

“we’re not staying inside today,” jay says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “i figured we’ve done enough of that. you’ve been using my supplies, so i thought it’s time you get your own.”

you blink, surprised by the suggestion. “you mean we’re going shopping?”

he nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “you deserve your own tools. besides, i want to show you my favourite spots.”

the idea excites you more than you’d expected. it feels intimate, personal—like he’s sharing a part of himself with you outside the confines of the studio. and so, you follow him out into the bustling streets, the city alive with activity as you walk side by side, the sky overhead a muted grey that promises rain.

the first shop is a small, unassuming place tucked between two larger storefronts, and you wouldn’t have noticed it if jay hadn’t pointed it out. inside, it’s a treasure trove of art supplies—shelves stacked high with paints, brushes, and sketchpads of every kind. the scent of paper and wood fills the air, and you can’t help but feel a little like a child in a candy store, overwhelmed by the endless possibilities.

jay moves through the aisles with ease, clearly at home here. he picks up brushes, testing their weight in his hand before handing them to you to feel. “this one’s perfect for detail work,” he says, holding up a fine-tipped brush. “and this,” he adds, pulling out a thicker, more rugged one, “is for broader strokes, more expression.”

you watch him as he speaks, his voice low and sure, and you find yourself more captivated by him than the tools he’s showing you. there’s something about the way his hands move with such confidence, the way he seems to understand the soul of each item, that draws you in. it’s a side of him you haven’t seen before, one that’s less restrained, more passionate.

he catches you staring, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “what?”

you quickly look away, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “nothing,” you mumble, pretending to examine the brushes in front of you.

but you can’t hide your growing admiration for him, and you suspect he knows it. he moves closer, his arm brushing lightly against yours as he reaches for a set of soft pastels. “try these,” he says, handing them to you. “i think they’ll suit your style.”

you take the pastels from him, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange, and for a moment, the air between you feels charged. you swallow hard, trying to focus on the colours in your hand rather than the way his touch lingers in your mind.

from there, you move to the next shop, a slightly larger one filled with canvases of all sizes and shapes. jay pulls you toward a display of stretched canvas frames, explaining the difference between cotton and linen, the various textures and how they interact with different mediums. he talks with such enthusiasm that you can’t help but smile, his passion contagious.

“pick a few,” he says, gesturing to the rows of canvases. “you’re going to need a variety if you want to keep experimenting.”

you nod, feeling a sense of freedom in the choice. as you select your canvases, jay hovers nearby, occasionally offering suggestions but mostly watching with a quiet intensity that makes your skin prickle. you wonder what he’s thinking, whether he’s just as aware of the subtle tension that’s been growing between you over the weeks.

the third shop is more modern, filled with high-end supplies—gorgeous palettes of oil paints in jewel tones, sleek metal easels, and handcrafted wooden boxes for storing brushes. it’s clear jay has saved the best for last, and as you wander the aisles together, he shows you some of his favourites, his voice soft and reverent as he talks about the craftsmanship behind each item.

“i’ve always wanted one of these,” you say, running your fingers over a beautiful wooden palette, its smooth surface gleaming under the soft light. “it’s almost too nice to use.”

jay grins, standing beside you as he watches you admire it. “you should get it,” he says, his voice warm. “every artist needs something that feels special, something that inspires them to create.”

his words send a shiver through you, and you glance at him, the closeness between you suddenly palpable. the quiet intimacy of the moment, standing together in the softly lit store, surrounded by the tools of your shared passion, feels heavy with something unspoken. you nod, slipping the palette into your basket, trying to shake the fluttering in your chest.

as you leave the last shop, your arms full of bags and supplies, the sky opens up, releasing a sudden torrent of rain. the drops fall fast and heavy, soaking you within moments. you yelp in surprise, pulling your hood over your head, but it’s no use—you’re drenched almost immediately.

jay laughs, a rich sound that cuts through the noise of the rain. “looks like we’re in for it!” he shouts over the downpour, his hair already dripping wet as he holds a hand out to catch the rain.

you can’t help but laugh, your spirits lifting despite the sudden storm. the two of you stand in the rain for a moment, looking at each other, before jay suddenly grabs your hand.

“come on!” he says, pulling you into a run.

you follow him, laughing breathlessly as you race through the rain-soaked streets, splashing through puddles and dodging other passersby who huddle under umbrellas and awnings. the bags of art supplies jostle against your sides, but you barely notice, too caught up in the exhilaration of running with him through the storm.

the rain comes down harder, drenching you completely, your clothes clinging to your body and your hair sticking to your face. but none of it matters—you’re both laughing, the world around you a blur as you sprint through the narrow streets, your hand still held tightly in his.

jay pulls you into a narrow alleyway, ducking under a stone archway for shelter. it’s barely enough to shield you from the rain, but you’re both out of breath, giggling uncontrollably as you lean against the cold stone walls.

you’re both soaked, your clothes dripping water onto the ground, but the warmth between you is undeniable. jay’s hair is plastered to his forehead, droplets sliding down his face as he looks at you, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

you can feel the heat radiating from his body, even through the dampness of your clothes. you’re pressed so close to him in the narrow space that you can feel the tension building, the awareness of every inch of space between you—or rather, the lack of it.

jay’s laughter fades as his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the air between you shifts. his gaze softens, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something more serious, more intense. you’re both still, the rain beating down around you, but inside this tiny archway, it feels like time has slowed.

he reaches up, his fingers brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, and the simple gesture sends a shiver down your spine. his hand lingers by your cheek, and you can feel the warmth of his touch even through the coolness of the rain.

for a moment, neither of you say anything, the space between you heavy with everything that’s gone unsaid. you can feel your heart racing, your breath catching in your throat as his eyes drop to your lips for just a second, but it’s enough to make your pulse quicken.

then, without thinking, without hesitation, he leans in.

the kiss is slow at first—tentative, as though he’s testing the waters. his lips brush against yours softly, almost delicately, and for a moment, it feels like the world stops. the rain, the city, everything fades away, and all that exists is the warmth of his mouth on yours, the softness of his kiss.

your heart stutters, your body frozen for a split second before you kiss him back, your hands finding their way to his chest. the kiss deepens, and the tension that’s been building between you for weeks unravels in a rush of heat and longing. his hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, pressing into him as though you can’t get close enough.

the rain falls around you, forgotten, as you lose yourself in the kiss. there’s a desperation to it, like neither of you knows when—or if—you’ll ever get this chance again. it’s intoxicating, overwhelming, and everything you’ve been holding back spills out in that single kiss.

when you finally pull away, breathless, jay rests his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you close as though he’s afraid to let go. you’re both panting, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, but you can’t seem to move, can’t seem to break the connection between you.

the kiss lingers in the air, an invisible thread still tying you to jay even as the rain continues to fall. his forehead rests against yours, his breath shallow and quick, matching the erratic rhythm of your heart. for a moment, everything feels right, the world outside forgotten, the storm cocooning you in your own little universe.

but then something shifts. you feel it in the way his grip on your waist tightens briefly before loosening, in the way his eyes darken, filled with a sorrow that cuts through the joy of the moment.

he pulls back, just a fraction, enough to put space between you but not enough to break the connection entirely. his gaze drops to the ground, as though he can’t bear to meet your eyes.

“we… we can’t,” jay whispers, his voice heavy with regret.

the words hit you like cold water, the warmth of the kiss suddenly feeling distant. “what do you mean?” your voice is soft, confused, almost pleading. you take a step closer, unwilling to let him slip away. “jay, what are you saying?”

he sighs, running a hand through his damp hair, his shoulders tense. “you know what i mean,” he says quietly. “you’re a princess. you belong to a world of crowns and thrones, and i… i’m just your art teacher.”

you shake your head, the rain beginning to soak through your clothes, but you hardly notice. “i don’t care about that! my parents wouldn’t either. jay, this—this connection we have, it’s real. you can’t just pretend it isn’t.”

his eyes finally meet yours, and for a moment, you see the same longing reflected in them. but then he looks away again, his jaw tightening. “maybe your parents wouldn’t care, but i do. i won’t let you throw away your life for me. you have responsibilities, a future. i can’t be the reason you turn your back on all of that.”

your heart aches at his words, at the way he’s trying to protect you even as it tears you both apart. you reach for his hand, holding it tightly. “you’re not asking me to give anything up. i’m telling you what i want. you. you’re what i want, jay.”

he looks at your hand in his, and for a second, he doesn’t move, as though he’s frozen between what he wants and what he believes is right. “you don’t understand,” he says quietly. “you’re used to a life of luxury. i can’t give you that. i won’t let you settle for less.”

the frustration bubbles up inside you, mixing with the hurt. “it’s not about that. it never was. do you really think any of that matters to me if i’m not happy?”

jay’s gaze softens, but the doubt lingers in his eyes, a shadow of the barriers between you. “i need time,” he says, his voice pained. “i need to think about this.”

you bite your lip, the tears you’ve been holding back threatening to spill. “take all the time you need. just… don’t take too long. please.”

he nods, his face filled with a mix of guilt and sorrow. then, like the gentleman he is, he steps closer, offering you his arm. “let me take you home,” he says softly, his voice carrying a tenderness that only deepens the ache in your chest.

the walk back to the palace is quiet, both of you wrapped in your own thoughts, the sound of the rain the only noise between you. his arm around yours feels protective, grounding, but it’s bittersweet knowing that he’s still holding a part of himself back.

when you finally reach the palace gates, jay pauses, turning to face you. the light from the lanterns casts a soft glow over his features, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still.

“goodnight, princess,” he says, his voice gentle, though there’s an unmistakable distance in his tone now.

you look up at him, wanting to say something—anything—to make him stay, to convince him that this is worth fighting for. but the words stick in your throat. instead, you nod, forcing a small smile despite the heaviness in your heart.

“goodnight, jay.”

he gives you a final, lingering glance before turning and walking away, the rain continuing to fall as his figure disappears into the night. you stand there for a long time, watching him go, your heart aching with every step he takes.

as you finally turn and walk inside, the warmth of the palace feels stifling compared to the cool rain outside. the emptiness left in jay’s wake presses down on you, and the realisation that you might not see him again for a while hits you like a blow.

in the days that follow, the quiet is suffocating. you try to fill your time with painting, with other lessons and royal duties, but nothing seems to lift the weight pressing on your chest. each moment stretches on, and the palace, usually filled with the comfort of familiarity, now feels hollow without him.

your parents notice your change in mood but don’t pry, their knowing glances suggesting they’re aware that something more than art is on your mind. still, you keep jay’s name on the tip of your tongue, unable to speak it without feeling the ache of uncertainty.

and so, you wait. you wait for a letter, for a word from him—anything to tell you that he hasn’t let go, that he’s still thinking about you as much as you are about him. but with each passing day, the silence only grows louder, the doubt harder to ignore.

what if he doesn’t come back? what if he decides you aren’t worth the risk?

the thought makes your heart tighten painfully. you sit in your art studio, staring at an unfinished painting, the brush limp in your hand, as you wonder if jay is fighting the same battle within himself.

it feels like an eternity has passed since that rainy day, since that kiss that felt like the world shifted. and now, all you can do is hope that he finds his way back to you before it’s too late.

the days stretch long and quiet after that night in the rain, and the distance between you and jay feels more unbearable with each passing moment. you keep replaying his words, the look in his eyes, the way he had kissed you—like he wanted to hold on forever but didn’t know if he should.

you throw yourself into your art, hoping the colours and brushstrokes will distract you from the weight of his absence. but the empty space he’s left behind is hard to ignore, especially as you finish the final piece you’d been working on for weeks—a vibrant painting of a parisian street, your future awaiting you there.

paris. the word itself sounds like a dream. the trip is supposed to happen soon—your long-awaited opportunity to study art in the heart of a city known for its creativity and beauty. it’s everything you’ve worked toward, yet now the thought of leaving without jay feels hollow.

what was once the pinnacle of your aspirations now feels incomplete. you had imagined this adventure, this new chapter of your life, and pictured jay being a part of it. but now, with his silence lingering between you, you’re uncertain of whether he’ll still be there when it begins.

sitting at your desk, you stare down at the blank parchment, the quill hovering in your hand. you haven’t spoken to jay since he walked away that night, but you can’t bear to leave for paris without reaching out, without giving him one last chance to understand how much he means to you.

the words come slowly at first, but then they start to pour out, your emotions and thoughts spilling onto the page.

dear jay, it feels strange writing to you after all this time—after all the moments we shared that now seem so far away. i’ve been thinking about what you said that night, about how we come from different worlds, about the future you think i deserve. but you need to know that none of it matters to me if you’re not a part of it. i’ve wanted this trip to paris for as long as i can remember, to learn from the best, to immerse myself in art and culture. it’s something i’ve dreamed about for years. and yet, now, as the day of my departure gets closer, all i can think about is you. i don’t want to go to paris and leave you behind, wondering what could have been. you’re as much a part of my passion for art as any paintbrush or canvas. you’ve shown me new ways to see the world, to express myself, and i’ll always be grateful for that. but more than that, you’ve become someone i can’t imagine my life without. i know you think i’m giving up too much, that i’m risking my future. but my future isn’t just about royal duties or titles. it’s about choosing the life i want—and i choose you, jay. i wish you could see that. paris is calling, but so are you. i can only hope that when you think of me, it’s with the same longing that fills every moment of my days without you. i hope that when you think of our time together, you’ll realise that this isn’t about status or sacrifice—it’s about love. i’ll be leaving soon after my birthday, but before i go, i need to know: will you come with me? or will i have to leave you behind? with love, [your name]

after sealing the letter, your heart is heavy with both hope and fear. you send it to jay, knowing that the next move is his. each day that passes without a response stretches the wait longer, the ache of uncertainty growing.

you try to stay busy with preparations for your trip, packing supplies and finishing your artwork. your parents notice the change in you—the excitement for paris dimmed by something you can’t quite bring yourself to share with them yet. they ask if you’re nervous, if you’re ready for the adventure, and you smile, telling them what they want to hear. but deep down, all you want is to hear from jay.

paris is just around the corner, but so is the decision you’re waiting for—the choice that could change everything.

the ballroom is a swirl of colour and laughter, filled with nobles, artists, and well-wishers all gathered to celebrate your birthday. the chandeliers above glitter like stars, casting a golden glow over the elegant space, and the music weaves through the conversations like a living thing, light and joyous. your parents spared no expense for this occasion, not only to mark your birthday but also to celebrate the upcoming adventure to paris.

it’s your birthday ball, but your mind is elsewhere, your heart tugged toward a memory that refuses to leave. you stand in front of your painting, the centrepiece of the night, hanging proudly on display for all to see. nobles and artists alike gather around it, marvelling at the vivid colours and delicate brushstrokes. you nod and smile politely as they offer praise, but inside, your thoughts are distant, wandering to a day not long ago when everything felt simpler.

the painting is of the marketplace—a bustling, lively scene full of energy and warmth. it’s the day you and jay had gone shopping together for art supplies, the day you let yourselves be ordinary, blending in with the crowds. the colours are bright and rich, capturing the vibrant chaos of the market: vendors calling out, the smell of freshly baked bread, the sound of coins clinking and people bartering for goods. in the corner of the canvas, nestled in the shadows of an alley, is a small, quiet space. it’s where you and jay had shared a moment away from the crowd, a stolen minute of peace amidst the noise, where the world had seemed to slow just for the two of you.

every brushstroke is infused with that memory—the warmth of the sun on your skin, the soft brush of his hand as he reached for yours, the unspoken connection that had blossomed between you in that hidden corner of the market. it was a day that felt like freedom, a glimpse of something more, something forbidden but undeniably real.

“your highness, it’s simply breathtaking,” someone says beside you, pulling you momentarily back to the present. a noblewoman in an exquisite gown stands at your side, her eyes wide with admiration as she gazes at the painting. “the light, the detail… it feels as though i’m standing there in the market myself.”

you nod and smile, offering a polite thank you, but her words barely register. all you can think about is him.

the weight of his absence has been heavy, pulling at your heart with every passing day, each one more difficult than the last. and now, on the night of your birthday, as you prepare to embark on a new chapter, all you can think about is the chapter you left unfinished.

you glance at the painting again, tracing the familiar lines of the marketplace, the hidden alley. that was the moment you knew there was something between you and jay, something more than just student and teacher, more than just friendship. it was the moment you allowed yourself to hope. but now, standing here alone, you wonder if that hope was misplaced.

and then, through the hum of voices and the soft strains of music, you hear it—a voice that sends a jolt through your entire body.

“you captured it perfectly.”

the sound of his voice makes the air around you seem to freeze. your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat. slowly, you turn toward the source, and there he is—jay, standing just a few steps away, his eyes locked on the painting, his expression a mixture of awe and something deeper, something raw.

for a moment, you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. after weeks of waiting, of wondering, here he is, standing before you, his presence filling the space that had felt so empty without him. he looks different tonight—still himself, but dressed in a way that blends with the formality of the event. yet, there’s something in his posture, in the way his dark eyes flicker between you and the painting, that betrays the turmoil he’s been carrying.

“jay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. but he hears you, as he always does.

he takes a step closer, his gaze shifting to meet yours, and for a moment, the world around you disappears. the ballroom, the guests, the music—it all fades into the background, leaving only the two of you in this fragile, suspended moment.

his eyes soften as they take you in, and there’s a vulnerability in his expression that you hadn’t seen before, something that makes your heart ache even more. “you remembered,” he says quietly, gesturing toward the painting. “the marketplace. that day.”

you nod, your throat tightening. “how could i forget? it was…” you pause, searching for the right words, but nothing seems adequate. “it was perfect.”

jay’s gaze lingers on the painting, as though seeing the memory play out all over again. his lips part, but no words come. instead, he takes another step toward you, his presence so close now that you can feel the pull between you—the unspoken tension that had simmered just beneath the surface for so long.

“i’ve been thinking about that day,” he says, his voice low and rough. “about us.”

your heart hammers in your chest. “and?”

his eyes flicker with a mix of emotions—regret, longing, and something you can’t quite place. “i thought i could stay away. that it would be easier, safer, for both of us. but i couldn’t.” his voice wavers, just slightly, and the vulnerability in it makes your pulse race. “not tonight.”

you swallow, your chest tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. the distance between you feels unbearably small, but also impossibly vast. he’s here. after all this time, he’s finally here. but the question still lingers, heavy in the air between you: what happens now?

just as you open your mouth to speak, to ask the questions that have been burning inside you for weeks, jay steps closer, his eyes locked on yours. the noise of the ballroom fades even further into the background, until all that’s left is him. and in that moment, with his gaze so full of emotion, you know that nothing has been forgotten. every stolen glance, every brush of hands, every whispered word—it’s all still there, between you, as real and undeniable as ever.

the night may be full of celebrations, but the only thing that matters is this: jay is here, and nothing will ever be the same again.

the grand ballroom continues to pulse with life around you, but the world feels quiet in the cocoon of jay’s presence. you haven’t even fully processed the fact that he’s here, standing in front of you after weeks of silence. his eyes—deep and full of an emotion you’ve longed to see—are fixed on you, as though he’s drinking in the sight of you, afraid to blink in case you disappear.

the weight of his absence, the unanswered letter, the uncertainty—it all rushes to the surface, but you force yourself to stay grounded in the moment. you open your mouth to speak, to ask the questions burning in your chest, but before you can, jay takes a step closer.

“you never stopped painting,” he says quietly, nodding toward the marketplace painting, his voice filled with a mix of awe and relief. “you’ve grown even more since i left.”

his words are a gentle balm to the ache in your heart, but they only skim the surface of what you truly want to know. you swallow hard, the emotions too thick in your throat to speak.

your breath hitches. “why didn’t you respond to my letter, jay?”

there’s a beat of silence before he looks away, the rawness of his feelings flickering across his face. “because i didn’t know if i was strong enough to walk away again,” he admits. “and i wasn’t sure if i could give you the life you deserve.”

“after everything we’ve been through, you still think i care about that?” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of all the unspoken words. “i just wanted you, jay. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

his jaw tightens, and he takes another step forward, closing the distance between you until his presence is overwhelming. “i couldn’t respond, because i knew that if i did, i wouldn’t be able to stop myself from coming back to you. and once i did, i’d never want to leave. but you… you have paris, you have a future.”

“and i want you to be part of that future,” you say, your voice stronger now. “i’ve had weeks to think about this, jay. i’m leaving soon, and i need to know where we stand before i go. please, just tell me how you feel.”

jay’s eyes flash with a storm of emotions—hesitation, fear, and something deeper, something that has been bubbling just beneath the surface. he reaches out slowly, his fingers brushing yours, the touch sending warmth rushing up your arm. “i’m terrified,” he admits in a voice so soft it makes your heart ache. “i’ve never felt like this about anyone before, and i don’t want to ruin it.”

“you won’t,” you say, stepping closer until your hands are fully entwined, your pulse quickening as his warmth floods your senses. “i don’t care about titles, status, or what anyone else thinks. you make me feel alive, jay. that’s all i need.”

his grip tightens on your hand, and for a moment, it seems like he’s grappling with the depth of what you’re offering. his breath comes in shallow, uneven bursts, as though he’s trying to hold himself together.

“i don’t want you to sacrifice everything for me,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “you’re a princess, destined for greatness, for a life most people can only dream of. i’m just... a man who paints.”

you step even closer, until there’s barely any space between you. “and that’s enough for me. more than enough.”

for a split second, he looks at you as though he can’t believe you’re real. but then, before you can say anything more, he steps forward, pulling you into his arms in one swift motion. the warmth of his body against yours is overwhelming, but in the best way, and as his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly, you feel the tension that’s been building between you melt away.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear as he holds you close. “for leaving. for making you wait.”

you close your eyes, leaning into him, your heart swelling with the relief of finally having him here. “you’re here now,” you murmur against his shoulder. “that’s all that matters.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands resting gently on your arms as his dark eyes meet yours. and in them, you see everything—the love he’s been holding back, the fear, the hope. “i love you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve loved you since the first day we met, and i’ve been fighting it ever since. but i don’t want to fight it anymore.”

your heart swells at his words, the weight of them settling deep in your chest. “i love you, too,” you whisper, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you as you say the words out loud for the first time. “i always have.”

the smile that spreads across jay’s face is like sunlight breaking through clouds, and before you know it, he’s lifting you off the ground, spinning you around in a burst of joy and laughter. the world around you spins with him, but you don’t care—because for the first time in what feels like forever, everything is right. everything is exactly how it’s supposed to be.

when he finally sets you back down, your feet touching the ground once more, his hands stay on your waist, grounding you in the moment. his eyes, full of love and warmth, search yours, and for a second, neither of you speak. you don’t need to. the silence is filled with everything you’ve both been waiting for.

“i want to be with you,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “but i don’t want you to lose yourself for me.”

you smile, shaking your head. “i’m not losing anything. i’m gaining everything i’ve ever wanted.”

jay’s hand finds yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he looks at you, his gaze full of the future. “paris,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “you’re still going?”

you nod, your heart racing at the thought of what’s to come. “i am. and i want you to come with me.”

he hesitates, just for a moment, as though the reality of what you’re asking is still sinking in. but then, his smile grows, and he nods, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “i’ll come with you. we’ll go together.”

your heart leaps at his words, the hope you’d been holding onto finally blossoming into something real. paris—together. it’s everything you’d dreamed of, everything you hadn’t dared to believe could happen. but now, standing here with jay, it’s all within reach.

“we’ll see the world,” he says, his voice soft but filled with excitement. “we’ll paint, we’ll live, we’ll—”

“we’ll be happy,” you finish for him, your smile widening as you lean into his touch.

he nods, his forehead resting gently against yours. “yes. we’ll be happy.”

and in that moment, as the ballroom buzzes with life around you, as the painting of your shared memory hangs on the wall behind you, you know it’s true. you and jay—together, free, and full of love. the world is yours, waiting to be explored. and with him by your side, you know that this is only the beginning.

as you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the future stretches out before you like a blank canvas, waiting for you to fill it with all the colours of your love, your passion, and the adventures you’ll share. together, you’ll paint a life full of beauty, one brushstroke at a time.

and as the night fades and the dawn of a new chapter begins, you know—this is your happily ever after.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @punchbug9-blog @firstclassjaylee @capri-cuntz @addictedtohobi @jaysfavoritegirl @yuniesluv @isa942572 @academiq @missychief1404 //the ones in bold could not be tagged for some reason. im so sorry guys tumblr is acting up :(

[kiss4noo]

𝓗is palette ! . ˚ ౨ৎ ⊹ 

꒰ 🎨 ꒱ 𝒩ishimura ℛiki [니키] : 𝒪neshot!

𝓰enre. soulmate au, fluffy fluffy fluff! .˚⊹ 𝓹airing. non-idol,,artsy ni-ki x artsy fem reader. ໒꒱ 𝔀arning(s). bumping into each other cliche meets classmates 2 lovers. 𝔀ord 𝓬t. 869

𝓼ynopsis .ᐟ in which people see the world in shades of black & white until making contact with their soulmate.

꒰ 💬 ꒱ 𝓶i 𝓷ote. remember, this is a work of fiction. i did not proofread, so please excuse any mistakes.

if you enjoyed this fic, please like and reblog! it's always appreciated :)

enjoy, my lovely readers. xoxo, mi. ‹𝟹

NISHIMURA RIKI was the quiet, loner type at decelis high, considering the fact that his best friends were all upperclassmen that had since graduated. he often sat by himself during lunch period, headphones on blast as he drew in his small sketchbook. his art was beautiful to anyone who had the privilege to see, yet it lacked one element; color.

the boy greatly envied those who had gained their palette, straight from the source of interacting with their soulmate; to which he had yet to meet. at least that’s what he believed, since he’d never came in physical contact with them.

currently, he was sat beneath a tree in the courtyard, hoping to sketch the scenery of campus, humming along to a track playing in his ears. his legs were entirely outstretched, laid before him as he used his thighs as a surface to draw upon.

a figure, obviously in a rush, had approached with hurried steps through the grass, tripping over his limbs with a soft ‘oof’. glancing up in surprise, riki’s gaze met the back of your kneeling figure. he recognized you immediately, as you shared multiple art classes throughout the years, and many labeled you as the campus sweetheart.

but…

wait, your outfit was a different sprawl of hues from the generic blacks and whites that he could see. in fact, his view was anything but grayscale. he assumed that you’d realized the same, your head tilting a few degrees in curiosity as you stared at the green grass beneath your palms.

pulling himself from the initial shock, the boy removed his headphones, placing them and his sketchbook aside to help you gather what had fallen from your grasp, knelt beside you.

“are you okay, y/n?” the boy questioned, his fingertips grazing yours as you’d reached for the item. when your eyes met his, he felt the air leave his lungs, your features far more angelic than people had described. his sight was one that people would’ve fought for, and yet he had the privilege to witness you in such beautiful color. your expression mirrored his, the honey of his skin, the blush of his lips– it was an exquisite change, leaving you in awe.

“y/n?” his voice drew you from the daze of his beauty, causing your eyes to flutter in rapid blinks that showcased your nerves.

“s–sorry, riki.” you murmur, reaching to take your sketchbook from his hands, only for him to pull it back. leaning your upper half forward, you found yourself a mere few inches from him– your breath mingling with his.

“y/n.” riki called with a low tone, causing you to gulp, averting your gaze. his fingers reached up, gently caressing your chin as he turned your head to meet his eyes.

“why were you in such a rush, bunny?” he questions, his brows furrowing in worry of any possible injury you may have gotten. flustered by the pet name, your cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink, catching his interest as he waited patiently for a response.

“well.. well i wanted to..” you begin, stumbling over your words in embarrassment. you were actually on the search for him, hoping to find a vantage point in which you could draw him for the day. your fingers reached to grasp at the sketchbook, your name sprawled across the front; only for riki to cheekily grin at you.

“what’s in here, hm?” he questions with a playful wiggle of his brows, glancing down at the sketchbook to flip the front page.

“w–wait!” you attempted to protest, only for his lips to part in surprise, having found a drawing of… himself?

“y/n…” he whispers in disbelief, his eyes casting between the drawing and you, his gaze landing on the paper once more. his fingers gently flipped through the pages, finding a multitude of sketches you’d made of him; most of them during lunch period, where he peacefully sat alone.

“oh, pretty...” he murmurs, folding the sketchbook shut before placing it aside, practically tugging you onto his lap. “stop admiring from afar.” he mutters, pressing gentle kisses against your cheeks, to which your skin flushes even further. he was honored to have been the apple of your eye, as you were his.

after all, his staring sessions during class were rather obvious to everyone but you.

“riki!” you squeal in shyness, hands pressed against his chest as he lovingly smothers you.

“see, it's a sign that you should’ve joined me all along, baby.” he coos, glancing up at the sky and pointing with his index finger; the colors sprawled across your vision as you turned your head.

“not only can you see colors, but you have me to grace your presence.” he grins at you, ticking your sides as a giggle falls past your lips, your gaze returning to his.

“oh, yippie!” you sarcastically respond with a playful smile, earning a gasp of feign hurt from the boy; to which you place a gentle kiss to his lips.

now it was his turn to be flustered, your action catching him off guard before he pulled you in once again, your smiles meshing as you expressed your affection, no longer hidden.

꒰ 📎 ꒱ 𝓽aglist. @greentulip @nshmuras @wonsdoll

[justwritingscenarios]

Welcome back, hope you're doing well!! I would like to request scenario 13 with Law!

Tysm and hope you have a nice day/night <3

Hi! I'm so happy to write about my hubby after such a long time. Sorry about the delay ! I hope it was what you wanted to read ! - Lara

Scenario 4 : having to share a bed and accidentally end up cuddling

Law x GN!Reader // Words : 1.7K // No warnings (no beta reader).

Ever since you joined the Strawhats, it was the first time the crew divided. Sure, everyone was separated for two years, but it was forced by Kuma initially. Here Luffy was taking half the crew with him to Whole Cake Island to bring back Sanji from Big Mom’s hold. You wished you could have gone with them, but you had followed Zoro – as he was the second in charge – on Trafalgar's "ship".

You wouldn’t say you disliked the idea. The Polar Tang was impressive, and you had been curious to visit it. However, what you preferred the most about the underwater trip to Wano was to see more of Trafalgar Law.

Since you met him on Punk Hazard, where he asked Luffy to be his ally, your eyes were attracted by him whenever he was around. To your great despair Robin and Nami had noticed. And to your great relief none of them messed with you. Except maybe that time Robin entrusted Law’s safety to you when she had to fight against Gladius in Dressrosa. But she didn’t let you alone with him, Cavendish was there as well, even if you were the one patching up Law. The man was riddled with bullets and had an arm cut off from his fight with Doflamingo, you couldn’t do much but stopped the haemorrhage. You were so aware of Law’s state of health that you didn’t complain once about your own injuries. Even when Leo and later Manshelly had helped him getting better, you didn’t leave his side. He didn’t grumble about it though. And you knew he acknowledged your presence from the beginning of your shared adventures.

Law worked with Chopper and you back in Punk Hazard’s lab. You even had talks and played cards on the Sunny on your way to Dressrosa. After that you helped him change his bandages when you were sailing to Zou under Bartolomeo’s flag. You went along together.

You had many times the opportunities to look at Law closely. Yet you never found him as attractive as you did the moment you got to see him moving around his submarine, surrounded by his crewmates. Around his friends, he smiles. Not smirk, smile. You swore his shoulders loosen, and his eyes hold a certain tenderness as he listens to their stories. Once you saw him snort before quickly hid under the visor of his furry hat. You often thought about it, to the extent of being lost in your mind.

“(Name), we-“ You were in the empty dining hall, sketching a duck on a napkin when Bepo’s voice surprised you.

“I didn’t hear you entering, Bepo.”

“… I’m sorry.” His whole body loosened. You patted his hand.

“Hey, don’t be sorry. I was lost in my thoughts, that’s why I didn’t hear you.” You offered him a bright smile and were happy to constate his fluffy ears went up again. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Oh yes! Captain said we’re going to emerge soon. He said that since you’re not used to stay in locked up places like us, you would appreciate to take a breath of fresh air before we reached Wano. That way, we’ll cool down the air in the sub too.”

“Thank you for telling me! Are the others aware of it?”

“Almost everyone knows. But we are still looking for Zoro.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to always be accompanied?”

“Yes, he was with the captain. Law talked to Hakugan for a minute and when he turned around Zoro had disappeared.”

“Rookie mistakes. Rule number 1: never let Zoro leave your sight.” The both of you laughed. “I’ll help you find him.”

A few minutes later, when Zoro was eventually found by Franky and Penguin in the engine room, the Polar Tang was emerged, and the main door was opened. Everybody came out to take a breath of fresh air. It was pleasant, especially for Bepo and not-Heart-crewmates. Law was right; you weren’t used to stay inside for so long, you were spending your whole days on the deck of the Sunny. You liked his initiative even more as at that time the sun was slowly getting low, the sky and the clouds getting warm colours. Most of you stayed outside talking and having a drink.

*

It’s been two hours since you surfaced. Most of the crewmates had come back inside and the sun had left its place to the moon. You hadn’t seen Law since getting out and the last time you saw Bepo, the polar bear was holding a blanket and a small tray to another place behind the main platform. You followed the way he took to the highest outside platform of the submarine.

There, were Law and Bepo. The big polar bear was laying on the floor, asleep. Law was leaning on the bear’s tummy. You guessed his legs to be crossed under the blanket. On the tray, the drink and the plate were empty, but a candle was still lightening Law’s reading. He either saw or heard you because he looked up.

“Hey.” You whispered.

“You can talk normally. Bepo has a deep sleep. You need something?”

“No I just- I noticed Bepo coming here earlier and wondered why he wasn’t coming back. Now I know.” The both of you looked at Bepo for a moment before you kept going. “I also wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

“For emerging. I know we are quite in a hurry to reach Wano and not that we couldn’t have waited a few more days to see the surface but… It feels good to be out for a few hours. I never appreciated the cold air of the night that much before.” You took a deep breath and looked around.

“Actually, we aren’t in a hurry. The sub moves faster than a ship and Luffy won’t be there before us so…” You nodded to his words; he was right. Your eyes fell on the book he had put opened on his knees, opened about the midway. That’s when you realised…

“Oh I’m sorry, I disturbed your reading-” “It’s ok.” “If you went there it was to be at peace after all-“ “I don’t mind.” “Do you want me to bring back the tray-“ “(Name)-ya.” “It doesn’t bother me to do it-“ “(Name)-ya!”

You eventually kept quiet when he called your name a bit louder to stop your stammering. For a second, you thought he was annoyed but neither his tone nor his look was. The small smile on his face only showed amusement.

“It’s true that I came here to read peacefully but I don’t mind your presence, ok? You can stay. I can even read to you if you want.” He showed you the book. It wasn’t a medical book like you first thought. You kneeled before him to read the title.

“Moby Dick. Or The Whale. I never thought you’d be interested in those kinds of stories.”

“Not my usual reading but I’ve wanted to for a long time. You read it?”

“I was supposed to read it for school when I was… 9? I lost the book and got reprimanded by my teacher. Found it in my cat’s litter later. Don’t ask me how it end up there. Just know that she refused to lend me books after that.” Law snorted the way you saw him do with his crewmates. It made you quivered a bit. Which he saw and misinterpreted it.

“Come here. You’ll get cold if you stay like this.” As he talked, he stretched out his legs and lifted the blanket so you could come under next to him. You were still hesitated that your body was already moving to come next to him under the fabric. “You can lean on Bepo, it won’t bother him.” You did slowly as he told you, unaware of his soft gaze on you.

“Can you sum up the beginning?”

“I can also read from the beginning.”

“What? No! You’ve come so far. I just want to hear you read.”

“Oh really? If that’s so. Can I at least start again from the beginning of the chapter?” Law turned his head in your direction, his teasing eyes looking for you. You had to look up a bit as he was still taller than you were even in that situation. You played his game and squinted your eyes. Of course, you didn’t mind… all you wanted was to listen to his voice.

“Ok as it’s you.”

“Well, thanks.” He turned back to his book and started reading. “Slowly wading through the meadows of brit, the Pequod still held on her way north-eastward towards the island of Java…”

You weren’t sure when but at some point, in the story, Law’s voice became a distant lullaby in your ears. He didn’t see it right away. He just checked on you while turning a page, like he did already numerous times before, except your eyes were closed this time. He set down the book on the side, his eyes never leaving your sleeping face half sunk in the white fur, just inches away from his.

*

When Law woke up, it was still early. The very first sunrays were started to lighten the sky even if the star wasn’t showing yet. The temperature was low, but he didn’t feel cold. The cover and Bepo’s body warmth greatly helped but you did to. You had moved enough that your head was resting on his upper chest, one of your hands grabbing his sweat with the blanket.

After watching you for a few minutes, wandering what he should do, he let his fingers touched your visible cheek and then your hand, not so far. It was warm, meaning that you weren’t cold either and could stay outside longer. Because the truth was, he didn’t want to move. He felt good. He wasn’t used to it, but he was comfortable. With your head on his chest, your hand on his side, with just you.

Law wasn’t sure how he will deal with you when you’ll wake up, what your reaction would be… for the moment, he just wanted to stay like this.

[copperbadge]

As with many sports, soccer teams have three uniforms or 'kits' -- home, away, and "third" which you wear when the first two are too similar to the other team's kit. I've often liked AS Roma's third kit best because it usually takes some design risks.

In the half-written football novel I establish that Askazer-Shivadlakia has a relationship to Rome via sport -- many Shivadh are AS Roma fans because their best player had his best years there, and Miranda and Gregory are shown in Roma supporter kit in the prologue.

And I've long established that blue and orange are the Shivadh flag colors, so it makes sense to put Shivadh RFC players in blue and orange kit:

Paolo had seen initial sketches for the designs, but he still craned his neck to see the real thing. The slideshow cycled through images of children and adults in uniforms: one set bright blue, shorts and shirts, with an orange star over the left breast and the royal crest on the right.

So imagine my goddamn surprise when the new Roma third kit jersey leaked yesterday and it's very nearly in spot-on Shivadh colors.

Did I manifest this.

[ID: A tweet posted yesterday, June 30th, sharing two images of Roma's 2024-25 third kit. The shirts are a saturated blue with yellow-gold stripes down the sides and across the shoulders, and small red triangles under the arms. The Adidas logo is on the right breast with the Roma team logo on the left; below is the logo of the sponsor, Riyadh Season.]

Also I swear I came up with "Shivadh" as a term for a person from Askazer-Shivadlakia before I knew Riyadh Season existed -- they only started sponsoring Roma last year, it's a state-funded sports and entertainment festival in Saudi Arabia.

Anyway, licensed jerseys are stupid expensive, especially when you're also paying postage from Italy, but I might have to spend next month's book royalties on one. I know you can get player names on the back but I'm kind of hoping they issue a version with De Rossi (the new head coach) on it. Otherwise I'll probably get either Pellegrini or Dybala, maybe Bove.

[5starluvr]

Link up

Paring:Yang Jeongin × Reader

Genre:fluff,angst(just a tiny bit)

Warnings:fighting

Spider Kids

Something sweet before It gets angsty again ~

"Jeongin, you'll be partnered with Y/n," Ms. Jung declared, her voice booming across the classroom.

Jeongin's heart lurched. Y/n, the brilliant girl who seemed to exist on a different academic plane altogether? He stole a glance, catching her surprised gaze before she quickly returned to her meticulously highlighted notes.

The initial awkwardness was palpable. Summoning his courage, Jeongin mumbled a hesitant hello. Y/n offered a shy smile in return, her usual focus on academics momentarily broken. They settled on bioluminescence, a topic Y/n suggested with a shy smile. As they delved into research, a hesitant camaraderie blossomed.

———

One afternoon, hunched over laptops at the library, Jeongin blurted out, "You know, Spiderman uses bioluminescent material in his suit to blend in with the shadows."

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I never thought about that!" A spark ignited, and for the next hour, they weren't just classmates, they were co-conspirators, weaving science and fiction into a captivating presentation.

Weeks leading to the science fair flew by in a flurry of activity. Their project evolved into a dazzling display of glowing concoctions bubbling away in beakers and informative posters that showcased bioluminescence in nature and its potential applications. But the real magic happened during their presentation. Jeongin, usually tongue-tied, spoke with newfound confidence, his enthusiasm infectious. Y/n, at his side, chimed in with insightful details, her voice brimming with a shared passion.

They didn't just win first place; they won the respect and admiration of their classmates. As they packed up their project later, a comfortable silence hung between them. "Hey," Jeongin stammered, "maybe we could hang out sometime, outside of school?"

Y/n's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "I'd like that," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The weight of her backpack seemed to lessen as Y/n spotted Jeongin by the school gates the following afternoon. A nervous thrill danced in her stomach, a new sensation when it came to him. This wasn't just about dissecting the science fair aftermath; it was about exploring a newfound connection.

They walked side-by-side, replaying the highlights of the day. The golden light of the setting sun painted the world in warm hues as they found a quiet corner in the park. Jeongin pulled out a notebook, causing Y/n's heart to do a little skip.

"I was thinking about our project," he began, a hint of shyness tinging his voice.

"Me too," she admitted, excitement bubbling within her. "There's so much more to explore. Perhaps other bioluminescent organisms?"

His eyes lit up, mirroring her enthusiasm. "That's a great idea! We could even try creating a prototype for… hmm, maybe a self-illuminating bike path?"

Hours melted away as they delved into a whirlwind of ideas. They sketched diagrams, debated possibilities, and bounced thoughts off each other like fireflies flitting through the gathering dusk. The science project, a forced partnership at first, had blossomed into something more – a shared passion for science that crackled with intellectual curiosity.

As the stars began to pepper the darkening sky, reality intruded. "We should probably head home," Y/n said with a reluctant sigh.

Jeongin nodded, a similar sentiment etched on his face. "But hey," he added, a playful glint in his eyes, "who says the brainstorming has to stop here?"

Y/n's heart did a little flip. "Right," she managed, a smile blooming on her face. "Your place or mine?"

"My place," he blurted out, then cleared his throat. "If that's alright with you."

The warmth in his voice sent shivers down her spine. "Perfect," she replied, a feeling far stronger than just liking blooming within her.

——

The crisp autumn air swirled fallen leaves around their ankles as Jeongin and Y/n walked home from their usual science hangout. Laughter bubbled between them as they debated about various things.

Suddenly, a guttural roar shattered the peaceful evening. A hulking figure, shrouded in shadow, emerged from a deserted alleyway. Venom, the symbiote-enhanced villain, loomed before them, his glistening black form radiating menace.

Y/n's breath hitched. Fear, icy and sharp, clawed at her throat. Jeongin's face paled, but his stance remained resolute. He knew he had to act fast.

"Y/n, stay behind me!" he commanded, his voice firm despite the tremor within.

Y/n scrambled back, her eyes wide with terror. In a single, practiced motion, Jeongin ripped off his sweatshirt, revealing the now-familiar red and blue suit clinging to his skin. A mask materialized over his face, obscuring his features.

"Venom," Spiderman's voice, distorted by the mask, rang out. "Leave her alone."

Venom chuckled, a grotesque sound that sent shivers down Y/n's spine. "Another spider to squish," he snarled, his razor-sharp teeth glinting in the streetlight.

A brutal fight ensued. Venom, fueled by a dark rage, unleashed a barrage of razor-sharp tendrils. Spiderman, nimble and agile, dodged each attack with practiced ease. He countered with precisely placed web shots, attempting to immobilize the monstrous villain.

Y/n watched in stunned silence as the boy she knew as Jeongin, the one who stammered over complex scientific theories and built glowing concoctions, battled a monstrous creature with superhuman speed and agility. A newfound respect, tinged with a sliver of fear, bloomed in her chest.

As the fight raged, Y/n noticed a shift in Venom's movements. The symbiote seemed to be struggling, its black form flickering erratically. It was then she remembered something from their recent bioluminescence research – certain frequencies of light could disrupt some bioluminescent organisms.

"Jeongin!" she yelled, a desperate plea escaping her lips. "Light! You need light!"

Spiderman, momentarily distracted, caught her frantic scream. He glanced at the traffic light above, an idea sparking in his mind. With a well-aimed web shot, he triggered a short circuit, showering the area in a chaotic flicker of red, yellow, and green.

The effect was instantaneous. Venom recoiled, the symbiote writhing in agitation. Disoriented and weakened, the villain stumbled back, a frustrated screech tearing from his throat. Seizing this opportunity, Spiderman launched a final web attack, successfully encasing Venom in a sticky cocoon.

The air crackled with an unsettling silence as the villain struggled, his black form pulsating against the white webbing. Y/n rushed to Jeongin's side, relief washing over her features.

Jeongin, panting and slightly bruised, turned to face her. The mask felt suffocating, the secret it held a heavy burden. Yet, seeing the awe and gratitude in Y/n's eyes, he knew he couldn't keep hiding.

"Y/n..." he began, his voice strained. But before he could confess his dual identity, a wave of dizziness washed over him. The exertion of the fight, coupled with the emotional strain, took its toll. He stumbled, his vision blurring.

Y/n caught him before he could fall. As he looked into her worried eyes, he knew the truth would come out anyway. With a shaky breath, he pulled off the mask, revealing his face etched with exhaustion but resolute.

Y/n stared at him, her eyes wide with surprise, then with a slow dawning realization. Recognition flickered in her gaze, followed by a hesitant smile. "Jeongin?" she breathed.

A wave of relief washed over him. He wasn't sure what he'd expected – fear, anger, even disgust. But instead, he saw acceptance, a spark of something more complex in her eyes.

"It's me," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

A beat of silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant wail of approaching sirens. Then, to his utter astonishment, Y/n burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the deserted street.

"Oh my gosh, Jeongin," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "You're Spiderman!"

Jeongin stared at her, surprised by her reaction. "You're not mad?"

Y/n shook her head, her eyes sparkling with a newfound respect. "Mad? No way! That was amazing! You saved me!"

Jeongin let out a shaky breath of relief. The relief that washed over Jeongin was so profound it almost knocked him off his feet. Here he was, exposed, vulnerable, and… met with laughter and admiration?

Y/n, still wiping tears from her eyes, reached out and squeezed his hand. "Seriously, Jeongin, that was incredible! The way you moved, the strategy with the lights – you're a genius, even without a lab coat!"

A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. "Thanks, Y/n. I… I just wanted to protect you."

Her smile softened. "I know," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "And you did. You're my hero, Jeongin. Spiderman and… just Jeongin."

He couldn't help but grin, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the exertion of the fight. The secret was out, a weight lifted from his shoulders. But more importantly, a deeper connection had formed between them, forged in the crucible of danger and a shared secret.

The wail of approaching sirens grew louder. Y/n glanced down the street, her smile fading slightly. "We should probably get out of here before the police arrive,baby."

Taglist:open : @juskz @blackhairandbangs @sxnset-angel @emossssss @hanjsquokka @feelikecinderella @starlostastronaut @kpopsstuffs @lixxpix @jinnie-ret @bangchans-angel @puppyminnnie @michelle4eve @skzswife @saiko-skz @quailbagutte @briqnne @ilychee08 @dollce-exe

[emojellyace08]

Lookism x Artist! Reader Headcannons 🖤🥀🎨 Part 1 (J-High-Main Boys)

Warnings: None Genre: fluff ☁️ Reader is gender neutral (and in an established relationship with the character of choice :)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿

Daniel Park (Park Hyung Seok)

He is so amazed by your drawings no matter what art style you use. Your works never failed to surprise him.

Daniel can't also help but to stare at your focused yet cute face when you try to draw on your sketchbook/paper (he'll stop if you find it creepy but he can't help it sometimes). He's really astonished by how you illustrate something with passion and take it to the next level even if it's just a doodle. Danny also finds it really smart and creative if you put meaning behind your drawings, whether it's sad or happy! He really likes to see the way you view things in life and express your thoughts on a piece of paper/canvas and he also can't help but to shower you with lots of compliments "Y/N It looks so cool! Keep up the good work!"

Daniel will also appreciate it if you use him as your reference! His heart will melt if you initiate to sketch him especially his original body. He felt so loved and cared about when you, his special someone sees the beauty in him no matter what shape, form or size he's in. He'll look at you like 🥺👉👈"Wa-Wait really? Are you sure?" HAHAHHAHAHAHA XD. Don't mind him but when he'll have an angst episode especially when his insecurities are getting in the way again, your comfort plus your artwork of him can really lift up his spirits. "You really find me cute in my other body?" he'll ask you in his taller form as you cup his cheeks and give him a peck as a sign of affection not wanting him to feel sadness and self-loathing himself. "Yep, that's why I always ask you to be my super model for my drawings! You're more than just your looks, so chin up Danny!" he can't help but smile thinking about it especially when he's feeling sad again, him feeling loved by you especially when it's not just his looks that you really adore and love about him (he feels the same for you). It really boosts his confidence more and in return, he'll not only compliment your works but also everything about you that's just so amazing to him.

If you're the shy type who won't show off your artworks to him, he'll definitely respect your privacy and space though he can't help but to be curious sometimes. And if you're the messy and inorganized type, expect him to just randomly check out your sketchbook especially when you both clean your shared apartment (don't scold him though he just picked it up on either the floor or the dining table which where it shouldn't be lmao). "So-Sorry Y/N I didn't know what I was doing sorry!" Though he will feel relieved when you just simply brushed it off saying it's fine but he won't stop apologizing when he can feel that you're upset about it. But this rarely happens since he will think about his actions first before doing it and he'll feel so much relieved when you started showing him his drawings and him seeing you breaking into your comfort zone.

Overall Danny's supportive about your hobby as long as you don't illustrate something too weird. He wouldn't mind if you teach him the basics or if you also you use one of his friends as your model/reference (especially Duke or his mom). He just loves you so much as much as you love him too (I need a Danny in my life right now).

Zack Lee (Lee Jin Sung)

This man will talk about you to literally everybody 24/7 (in good and really romantic way of course).

Zack's so amazed by everything you do even if it's the simplest things, so what more if you make a masterpiece everybody should be proud of ;)?

He'll also ask if he can take a look of your sketches and he'll be SUPERRR HAPPY when you showed him your sketchbooks and random doodles. Zack's so fascinated by how you illustrate things in your art style, making him showering you with lots of compliments. "You're so good at this! You really are a perfect person!". Trust me when I say that just like Daniel if you asked him to draw him as a reference, his heart will not only beat a hundred times faster but he's also going to explode from your request. His someone asking him to sketch him? His day couldn't get so much better. Just like Danny, Zack will also look at you with that puppy eyes when you ask him to draw him "Really?🥺👉👈" AHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA xD. He will also tease you about it. Him posing with funny poses while you force yourself to not laugh (he's also doing it to make you smile trust me). "Y/N you think I'm attractive?" "No why?" you playfully denied as you smirked at his reaction before he teases you back. "But why did you ask for me to be your model for your drawings?" "OH C'MON ZACK JUST STAY IN PLACE I CAN'T TAKE A GOOD REFERENCE PHOTO OF YOU" "SORRY Y/N I WON'T DO IT AGAIN!".

If you're the shy type, he'll be okay if you don't want to show your drawings to him. But he'll be definitely be sad and crying inside since he feel like you don't trust him enough lmao (though he'll still respect your wishes). And he will also sneak up to see your works when it's just chilling on your desk or table, but he'll be so sorry and crying when you caught him touching your things without your permission. "SORRY Y/N I WON'T DO IT AGAINNNN!!! PLEASE FORGIVE MEEEE!!!. However, he'll be also relieved when you're okay with him checking out your sketchbook, though next time he'll ask for your permission though! (Always asking you with those puppy eyes. "Y/N can I take a look of your drawings again? I'll be careful with it I promise🥺👉👈 ". He'll also not let anyone touch your things and your coloring materials to other people unless you say so (He'll hand it to Mira since she's careful enough about others' belongings or he'll just simply put it on your desk when he needs to do something important).

Zack is just wholesome and supportive about your hobby. He will always flex you on his friends not only about your artistry but almost about everything about you. "Do you know Y/N is a great artist? You can ask for her to draw you if she/he doesn't mind it ;)". (Protect Zack at all cost).

Vasco (Lee Eun Tae)

Another cinnamon roll here.

Vasco really loves your drawings so much! He's always curious on how you managed to sketch pretty illustrations especially cute animals like kittens and puppies! He has that same puppy expression while his eyes sparkle as he views your artworks in awe. He's so confused when he tries to draw the same as you but it always end up looking a bit weird lmao (But we still love him).

He'll talk about you to Burn Knuckles especially Jace. Their reactions will be so priceless. No one had made Vasco smile and made his day better other than them! "VASCO, YOU TALKED TO A GIRL/BOY???!" "YEAH! SHE'S/HE'S SO PRETTY/HANDSOME, KIND AND SHE'S/HE'S A DRAWER!" "You mean artist right?" Jace asked as Vasco nodded with a cute smile. "Yeah! her/his drawings are so amazing!" As you became friends, Vasco will ask for you to draw him a puppy if you don't mind! And he'll be sooo happy if you did so especially on his birthday (he cherishes the others gifts that the others had given him but he just really loves your art so much!). "JACE! Y/N DREW A PUPPY FOR ME IT'S SO CUTE SHE/HE EVEN PUT IT INSIDE A PICTURE FRAME!"

If you're the shy type, he'll wonder why you're a bit hesitant of showing your works to him, though he will respect it and not force you to but he still can't help but to be curious about what it looks like. But after getting to know each other and getting closer, he will ask again if he can take a look of your sketches and if you agreed so, he'll appreciate you for trusting him and he'll give you lots of compliments so that you can show him your other drawings and he'll have that huge and cute eyes 🥺👉👈 while his mouth his gaped open in shock about how your drawings are so pretty. "Y/N you did all of this? It looks SOOO PRETTY!". And if you're the messy type or you constantly misplace your things, he'll always find your sketchbook where you left it and he'll shout at you with that childish yet deep voice as it echoes in the school hallways holding it up while waving his hand to catch your attention. "Y/NNNNN! I FOUND YOUR SKETCHBOOK IT'S ON THE CAFETERIA TABLE!!!" If he's a dog right now, his tail will waggle if you pat his head and thanked him for helping it find it. "Thanks Euntae, I appreciate your help". Your kindness along with your warm smiles, talent, and hard work never fails to amaze him and fall in love for you more!

And if you and Vasco became official after some time, expect the Burn Knuckles to cry while cheering for the both of you. You'll also find it entertaining to teach the them how to draw silly stuff that they like (It can be a pain in the ass but if that's what makes Vasco happy and you to get each other know better you're probably going to do it lmao, protect Vasco at all cost).

Jay Hong (Hong Jae Yol)

This man would be so protective and proud of you.

Jay finds it really interesting when you illustrate something beautiful while being effortless. If you're seatmates with him, he would slightly look at you sketching random things while the teacher discusses another boring lesson. Him multi-tasking with him just listening to the teacher's ramble while his eyes are focused on you drawing on your scratch paper instead of taking notes. Both of you may get into trouble for not listening but since Jay's a top student he can help you catch up with the topics (Istg I saw him on the anime and webtoon not taking notes down while there's a lesson yet he's manages to be in the top how does he do that?)

Headcannon: You and Jay would communicate with cute and silly drawings. For example you and Jay would exchange notes with you asking him how he's feeling or if he's been doing well with a cute cat doodle with a confused/concerned expression plastered on its face with a question mark. And he would respond back with a much simpler drawing of a dog smiling (considering how much he's scared of dogs, well he used to be), a sign/message that he's okay as the conversation will go on :) He also respects it if you're a bit shy of showing your drawings to him not wanting you to feel uncomfortable but he would also appreciates it when you initiate to show it to him. If you're the messy type he'll also check your sketchbook before giving it back to you. Though he will often ask permission if he can check your artworks out.

He also really likes your artstyle! No matter what style or genre of drawing you have you'll never fail to amaze him. He would also appreciate it when you draw him! I promise you he will put all of your illustrations that you gave him on expensive frames and he'll take care and preserve it like it's a delicate piece of masterpiece that needs to be put and hang on a museum (I love him so much).

Overall, Jay and you will have a special bond especially with anything related to art. Jay's perspective on it is so unique. Since he's having a really hard time in expressing his emotions and thoughts through words, he finds it as an escape and comfort on his problems (for an example is him with good fashion style). So having a partner who's an artist can be relatable for him, you and him will be a good power couple! (he also loves your good attitude and values so please be nice to him :).

A/N: Part 2 will be with Eli, Hudson, Warren, and Johan (if possible)

[ginxyy]

Symphony of us

My soulmate jun

In the quiet corners of life, where the mundane dances with the extraordinary, I stumbled upon a love so tender it felt like a melody woven into the fabric of my everyday. His name is Jun, a name that carries with it the kind of sweetness that melts into the very essence of my soul. Our love story began not with grand gestures but with unexpected encounters that spoke volumes from the very first smile.

It was a Monday, the week just terrible enough to tempt fate to throw a little magic our way. I remember that day vividly; the sun was making a valiant effort to break through the thick veil of rain clouds, illuminating the coffee shop that always buzzed with energy from artists and dreamers alike. As I sipped my caramel macchiato, scanning the crowd for a glimmer of inspiration, my gaze fell upon him Jun, seated across the room, lost in a world of sketches and stray lines. His brow furrowed with concentration, lips slightly parted as if contemplating the very essence of creation.

It was an ordinary moment, yet it felt monumental. The air around him shimmered with an ethereal glow, and I found myself captivated not solely by his talent but by the aura of gentleness he exuded. Our eyes met, and I swear the universe colluded to make time stand still. In that fleeting second, my heart recognized something monumental, something I hadn’t even dared to hope for. Jun caught my gaze and, with a charming smile, broke the invisible barrier between us. My cheeks flushed a crimson that felt like the most beautiful initiation into the world of love.

Days turned into weeks, our meetings at that little coffee shop became a cherished ritual. Each encounter was spontaneous and sprinkled with delightful surprises. There was the day we challenged each other to create the most ridiculous latte art, bursting into laughter as our masterpieces turned into bizarre creatures a cat with a mustache, a heart with legs. The laughter echoed among the clinks of cups and the soft hum of conversation, and in that cacophony, two souls harmonized effortlessly.

Jun's playful nature was matched only by his artistic spirit. He had this ability to turn the simplest moments into something enchanting. I remember the first time he invited me to an impromptu picnic in the park. It was dusk, the sky painted in hues of purple and gold, a canvas worthy of our dreams. He packed homemade sandwiches, infused with love, and I had brought my favorite blanketa well-worn quilt that carried whispers of laughter from countless past adventures.

As we sat beneath a sprawling cherry blossom tree, petals swirling around us like confetti, Jun plucked a flower and tucked it behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my skin just a moment longer than necessary. My heart raced at the touch, an electrifying connection that felt like a promise. We shared stories, our dreams intertwining under that vast twilight sky. The world around us began to fade, leaving only us, encased in our bubble of laughter and hope.

Oh, the little moments we cherished! Like when we wandered into a vintage store one rainy afternoon, soaking in the scent of nostalgia. I spotted an old record, and before I knew it, we were dancing as if the world had ceased to exist, spinning in blissful abandon amid the clutter of memories waiting to be discovered. The soft melody of this forgotten song played as a backdrop to our laughter, filling the air with an indescribable warmth that blossomed between us a spark igniting a flame.

With each shared experience, my feelings for Jun blossomed like spring flowers after a long winter. He wove happiness into the very fabric of my existence, transforming routine days into profound adventures. Whether we were wandering through art galleries, losing track of time as we explored every brush stroke, or cozying up on the couch, binge-watching our favorite shows, every second felt steeped in joy.

On a particularly magical evening, under a canopy of twinkling stars, he surprised me with a little outing to a carnival. The air was thick with the aroma of popcorn and cotton candy, laughter swirling around us in a joyous symphony. As we ventured from one exhilarating ride to another, I felt alive in a way I never had before. He held my hand tightly, guiding me through the chaos, effortlessly balancing the thrill of each moment with the tenderness of his touch.

At the Ferris wheel, our hearts beat in unison as we floated high above the ground. The world below us transformed into a sparkly fairy tale, the colors merging into a breathtaking masterpiece. But it was Jun, with his wide grin and bright eyes, that truly took my breath away. We paused at the peak, and in that suspended moment, surrounded by the vastness of the sky, he turned to me his gaze piercing through the night, igniting a warmth that wrapped itself around my heart.

"I think I’m falling for you," he confessed, his voice barely rising above the soft hum of the carnival below.

In that instant, the world stilled. I felt a rush of overwhelming love surge within me, manifesting as a brilliant glow. I met his gaze, my heart laid bare as I whispered, "I think I’m already there."

Our lips met under the stars gentle, tentative, yet filled with an urgent need that blossomed into something deeper, something pure. It was a kiss that echoed promises of tomorrow, dreams painted in the colors of sunset and joy.

From that night on, we journeyed together, hand-in-hand, navigating the beautiful chaos of life. Together, we built a home of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and love that felt like the chorus of a well-loved song. With every glance, every touch, Jun and I grew intertwined in a tapestry of moments small yet infinitely rich, soft yet robust.

As I sit here remembering those memories, my heart swells. It’s a journey I wouldn’t trade for the world our serendipitous symphony, played endlessly, blending the notes of affection, laughter, and shared dreams into a masterpiece unique to us. And even now, with every heartbeat, I find myself falling deeper, content in the knowledge that this love, this treasure, is ours to keep forever.

[ancientgreekyuri]

Today marks three years of Dianthus existing! I made my first concept sketches for her on 11/20/23 💖 this also means it's been three years of Diathesterius! I sometimes use the date I uploaded Dia to toyhouse, the 21st, as the anniversary date just in case I'm late... but I managed to finish colouring this <3 I had actually wanted to do something for this earlier in the month, I even made some very elaborate plans for it... but it ended up not happening! Which is okay 💞 but I still wanted to draw a little wedding piece... so I did! I'll make something fancier when I have more time later on... 💝 I used my own handwriting here for authenticity, but at some point... I'd like to be able to rewrite in Greek for More authenticity <3 Uncropped version (and long rambling post) under the cut 💕 I get a little Vulnerable so don't read it if you're gonna be mean or else I'll like Get You or something

I've made posts in the past talking about why Theseus and Asterius mean so much to me, but I don't think I've made one on why Dianthus herself means so much to me.. so for her own third year anniversary, I'll do that here! before I begin...! the fruit in dia's hair here are from the strawberry tree, arbutus unedo. I associate the tree and its fruit with Theseus but... it's honestly been so long, I don't remember exactly why! Just that, for some reason, I imagine thathis childhood home had a tree of these fruit blossoming just outside his mother's room, and thus he has fond memories of it. Lady Dianthus... she who loves all things pink, actively hates celery, and still has a job at the library despite being so fogetful and clumsy... she who met Theseus and immediately became obsessed because it was the first interesting thing to happen to her- not a parent or someone she's close to, but herself! her first time feeling as if she had a true purpose. She who didn't understand Theseus' obsession with Asterius until meeting he Minotaur, and promptly decided "he's not scary? he's not scary at all! he's just a cow!" I've made sona and the likes before Dia of course, but she was the first in a long time who was truly meant to resemble me in all ways (except for the setting, of course...). I made her design simple so I would easily be able to redraw her, and gave her one of my favourite palettes pink and green and cream and gold. At first I really didn't expect to get that attached to her... I went months without drawing her after her initial creation. but the more I drew her the more I realized how much fun I was having with her...! It's funny looking back on it... originally I had a much more comedic idea for her story, and di not intend to ship her with Theseus in any serious way. It was going to be a completely one-sided love (with Dianthus taking the role of "crazed fangirl" - which she still is, in a way). I'm sure it isn't a surprise but it didn't take me long at all to start drawing ship art of them, creating artworks and writing of Theseus and Asterius was a self indulgent joy for me, so why not selfship art too? I ended up invested, of course. Using Dia I put a lot of my own feelings into a story; a sense of otherness, her loneliness, feeling lost and out of place. I had removed it later on because I felt uneasy with how vulnerable it was, but at one put I had placed one of the most traumatic events of my life into Dia's story- sometimes I think about adding it back, because I know giving her an oppurtunity to open up about it with her beloveds would be something beneficial to Me irl(!). But that's besides the point here... she's a stubborn girl, sweet but arrogant is my usual go-to descriptor for her; that's how I think of myself too, just based on what I've been told (I have a hard time thinking of myself as nice, though others always say so to me...). That may be part of why I tend to look for those features in (fictional!) lovers... something feels good to me about being able to butt heads due to this shared traits, but still coming together and making amends despite it. I do think it's a little funny that the sonas I've gotten the most attached to so far- Dianthus, and now Nerine- have some sort of theme of death with them. Dianthus is literally a ghost, and Nerine is metaphorically one (and maybe liteally, if I ever make up my mind...). Maybe that's just fitting for me, though... hmm... I'm not sure what else I want to say here... I think of Dianthus as "Me but in Hades Game / Ancient Greek context." Of course some events that happen in her life didn't happen to me, or, sometimes, I dramatize it (Dia's mother leaving her and her father to become the wife of a god was inspired by the fact that for the first few yers of my life, my parents were separated... but they always had a positive relationship with one another! Unlike Dia's parents), but she's become a big par

t of me all the same. Just as I am happy and hoping to spend many more years with Theseus and Asterius, I hope to spend many more years with her as well. i think that's all I'll write for now <3 if you read this thank you for being curious enough about me to be interested in all this 😭

btw, here's the first ever post of her... (yes thats my priv </3 i briefly unlocked it to search for this... don't try and follow me over there though it's crazy over there)

[letters-unsending]

No. 46

////

“You left. You chose to leave. Not many get to, you know that?”

“I should let you have this. I should let you have your peace–your normal life with those fake papers and fake memories. I think it would be the kind thing to do. But you asked me to find you once they..removed you and I honor my word, if nothing else. I owe you this, [Hero]. I owe you so much more.”

Hero sipped their coffee as they flipped through the notebook. When they’d returned from the library, they’d noticed an extra notepad in their backpack, wedged between their [class] textbook and laptop. It was slim and black, like a misplaced slip of shade. Hero assumed they’d accidentally snagged it from the neighboring desk, but as they peeked at the first page, they discovered their name, penned in their own handwriting over the top line. The date beside the signature was more than four years ago.

The initial pages were full of diagrams. There were outlines of armor and weapons, fringed by impossible chains of numbers and equations. Deeper into the book, the math grew tangled and senseless, sprouting nonsense conclusions and diverging into page-long tangents. Rants spilled over sketches.

After pages of slantwise and ragged scrawl, the neat lines of text came as a surprise. They were written by a different hand, one characterized by tight loops and impeccably even spaces.

“You can choose to stop reading. If you care about this normal life of yours, if going to college and getting a job fulfills you, you should discard this book. Burn it. Shred it. Tossing it leaves too much risk.”

“I know you won’t though. You’re curious. You always asked questions and pushed limits–that’s what got you into trouble. It’s also what made you the best. You were are a hero, [Civilian Name], and you should’ve never needed me, of all people, to remind of you that. But I will. I’ll tell you as many times as it takes you to remember.”

A few of the next pages were ripped out, leaving shredded tufts. Hero traced the paper’s ragged edge and set their coffee down. They looked over their shoulder, then out the window, and then down the hall, as if expecting someone to break through the woodwork and declare this was all a ruse. The dining room clock ticked. The din of passersby and cars warbled stories below.

“None of the books you gave me make sense. There’s no answer. You told me there was an answer.”

“I wrote down a few memories from the missions we shared. I never knew you as a person…I didn’t know your name or face, not until the night before you left. But I hope my recollections may jog your memory. There are also some pictures, a summary of your missions as a Hero, and a list of the few things you did share with me when we were together.”

“If you do remember, there’s a place we used to meet–”

“I can’t figure this out without you. We were so close to an answer. I don’t know why you left, but we’re the city is running out of time.”

[collared-n-green]

More drawings I did months ago, I struggle to finish pieces so a lot of times I have very messy sketches that get abandoned the second another idea forms. Still, best to post before surprising anyone with the recent designs I have for them now.

Initially I planned to keep their expressions and designs in a more cartoony style, but I recently rewatched MTV’s Downtown and it had a heavy influence on how I currently draw them. I’ll share those drawings later on. Still haven’t named my MC but I have dubbed Peter “Voss”, like the water!

[local-diavolo-anon]

A small idea i had: prehistoric mermen Sun and Moon

Have some sketches

Au infos under the cut hehe

Sun x Moon x Reader where Reader is a time travelling biologist who ends up stuck in early cretaceus and all they have is their broken time capsule, some tools and their modern-era devices

They can likely communicate with modern time scientists but maybe even days go by, and those scientists cannot send somebody to rescue them bedause there is some time-traveling fuckery that allows only 1 person for geologic era or something like that

And while they wait for instructions, they need to hunt for available sources of food and verify if said source will kill them instantly or not when consumed

During that, they find themselves diving into the prehistoric ocean, coming face to face with Sun, who is a plesiosaurus mermen (you choose which type tbh, there are a lot)

Afrer the initial shock of seeing a humanoid-faced creature and the secondary shock of seeing said creature emerging from behind rocks with an almost endlessly long torso/neck, reader and Sun kind of hit off and become gradually more friendly and sociable toward one another

Reader knows how to make friends with creatures and Sun is both very smart and very eager of making friends, so while he cannot seemingly comprehend your language he is trying his best

At some point he seems eager to bring reader somewhere, so you two dive together underwater

He progressively goes deeper and deeper, and you follow until you both arrive to the bottom of the sea in that part of the coast

Sun is excited and is acting like something has to happen and reader is not understanding, maybe you were supposed to see something or something that is happening should have been exciting

So you look around yourself confused before the seafloor under your feet moves.

Surprise you were standing on Moon's back, who just woke up and is both confused at what the absolute fuck he is looking at (you) and slightly irritated

Fear.png

Follows a moment of sea lizard to sea lizard communication between sun and moon before anybody makes a move

Ultimately Moon finds you weird but amusing, you look like them but also not and you can move and breath on land so that's interesting, so he keeps you around

They follow you during your diving and protect you from other predatoes that might have been around at the time, like other species of plesiosauruses (since again, there are quite a lot)

They might also help you a bit with the food problem by occasionally providing fish and other sea creatures for you to eat like ammonites; they are both big and eat a lot so sharing a microscopic portion of food won't change anything for them

Back at home everybody is enthusiastic of your discoveries and you're tasked to remain there as long as you can and study those newly discovered creatures

[suburbanbonfire]

tagged by @18minutemajor for a hockey art share tag game! I enjoy talking about myself but am terrible at posting so this is perfect. i WILL talk too much, this is a threat.

rules: post your first ever hockey art, your latest hockey art, and your favourite hockey art, then tag three hockey artists.

FIRST ART

I made the Kraken Orb (Korb) at the end of the 22-23 season, as a commemoration, although a sort of ironic one considering i had only gotten into hockey in time for the playoffs so there are a couple players here i actually never got to see play at all before making this (Joonas, Jaycob, Burky, Fleury)

it was a whole lot of fun though! Prior to this i was in a months-long art slump after leaving a fandom, so it was a total surprise to have hockey of all things be what revitalized my art.

technically, the very first hockey art from this was Matty; you can kinda tell by the way his lines are a bit thicker than the rest since i wasn't in my groove yet. i also knew coming in that i wanted to arrange the faces in a circle, but didn't plan out beyond that, so i just made sure that i was getting a variety of head directions in my references and hoped for the best. My favorites from this are Gru, Soucy, Dunn, Schultz, Borgen, and Eeli. I think they all turned out really well.

LATEST ART

MEAT CUT MEAT CUT

this one is fun for me because it's quite different from my usual style of art, with lineart and non-realistic forms/face. I've had the concept in my head for awhile after hearing/reading so many interesting descriptions of the physical qualities that good hockey players possess.

'Sacrifice the Body' actually came in mid-art when i had an epiphany doing something like driving my car or an activity similarly unrelated. Before that, it was going to be a lil heart drawn on the chest and the going contender for the label was 'Ferda.' which would've been great, but sacrifice the body just worked too dang well with the themes.

FAVORITE ART

i mean, c'mon. it's gotta be this one.

my magnum opus, my white whale. it came out even better than i saw it in my head and i love everything about it. when i came up with the idea, i had TOTALLY forgotten that Climate Pledge has those giant windows, so when i set out to find references and saw it, it instantly made everything even better with LIGHTING!!!!

It was my first time drawing this kind of interior architecture and although there's definitely things i would do differently now, im so so proud of how it looks and turned out. I was also still drawing through my decade-old laptop at that point, so I had to split up the work on this into two files - i sketched everything, then worked ONLY on the bg until it was about 90% done, then made a flattened copy to open as a new file to draw the players on top of.

I also have a bunch of WIP shots of it in my drafts I guess I'll throw in here now!

initial sketch to get down the composition before i remembered the window | lines of the building! i actually found a 3d virtual tour of CPA from before it was built which had the PERFECT angle, so i screencapped that and straight up traced the architecture. Ultimately, the scoreboard and the paint lines ended up getting moved around.

planning out my lighting in greyscale (i really need to do this more often, i struggle with values so much, alas) | in progress bg! at this point, the ice and the boards/glass were the only things completed. I eventually said 'fuck it' to being able to see the areas behind the stands like you could in all my references, and just put the people dots all the way up.

Now the most gut-wrenching part

THE TAGS

this is where me being bad at posting comes into play, because instead i just lurk and thats not great for forming connections HERE GOES

@ruinedcasket - it has been awesome seeing your art progress! would love 2 hear your thoughts about it

@rouzys - your kraken stuff is so pretty, love how you capture likenesses

oh god oh fuck everyone else i know has already been tagged fuck oh sshit

If You Are An Artist On Hockey Twit And See This, It Is A Sign

[sketch-guardian]

Mc being exhausted and mumbling about something during class Lucifer coming into the class to scold them about their grades and Mc just slowly looking at him dead in the eye before saying so bluntly and clearly “if you keep scolding me I’m gonna draw you pregnant I swear to god I will”

Rad + exchange student reactions please and thank you! :)

Well, that's a peculiar ask, but also quite funny😂so I'll do my best to write some good enough headcanons🙈hope you enjoy✨:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH AN EXHAUSTED MC SNAPPING AT LUCIFER AND THREATENING HIM TO DRAW HIM PREGNANT"

DEMYA

Demya is usually quite bored in class, finding theoretical subjects boring, especially how they are explained by some professors, she prefers physical education, because she can release pented up energy, therefore she would understand MC's exhaustion, having them not only a lot of responsibilities, but also seven demons to basically babysit. At Lucifer's scolding towards MC, Demya would huff under her breath, mumbling to herself, she already didn't feel much sympathy for the demon due to his harshness and seriousness, furthermore criticizing her exhausted mate wouldn't work in his favor. Demya would widen her eyes at MC's threat, not expecting them to talk back to Lucifer, considering that many would never dare, so not only she would be proud of her mate, but Demya would also burst out laughing. Demya wouldn't understand exactly what's so bad about being drawn pregnant, since she would like to have an offspring one day, but Lucifer's stunned face would be enough to make her sneer and then whistle pretending nothing happened in case he noticed her. After what happened, outside RAD, Demya would take MC by the arm, congratulating them on their boldness and to make them relax, she would take MC to a restaurant for a bite to eat

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra has the reputation of being quite a delinquent, in the sense that he would occasionally skip class or get into trouble with some other demon student, however he excels quite a bit in different subjects, which would surprise and irritate many professors, not understanding how Domnra does it. Mobim would not approve much of such behavior and would often take notes itself like a good student to try to help Domnra. Domnra, finding Lucifer a bit of a braggart, would make a face seeing him scold MC, it's pretty clear that they're exhausted, so how dare Lucifer judge. MC's reaction would initially shock Domnra, not having foreseen anything of the sort, and disconcerted, even though the little curse doesn't exactly have ears and though MC hadn't said anything dirty, he would place his hands on the sides of Mobim's head, to prevent the little curse from hearing any further. Domnra would hide a faint smirk at MC's threat to Lucifer, sharing a fleeting smug look with Satan, Belphegor, and Mephistopheles in class, serves Lucifer well. After class ends, Domnra would pat MC on the back and offer them to stay in his room for a few hours to rest, letting Lucifer calm down in the meantime

AZUL

Azul is a fairly average student, despite often having his head in the clouds, he excels in subjects that interest him and is rather poor in those that he finds unchallenging. Usually when Azul notices MC exhausted in class, he would send them flying notes with magic, with sappy love messages or dumb puns written on them, however in this case Lucifer would have preceded him, by scolding MC. Azul is a painter and as such he knows the power of artists to create anything, such as drawing someone pregnant, so since he would understand the reference, Azul would burst out giggling and having no sense of self-preservation, he wouldn't care if Lucifer noticed, indeed he would add fuel to the fire, saying that with magic it a pregnancy like that could actually happen. After focusing Lucifer's wrath on himself, moving it away from MC, they would exit together from class, Azul joking that he would actually sketch something like what MC suggested sooner or later. For the hilarity of the situation, Azul's colors would change from light blue to yellow

ZURI

Zuri is a model and diligent student, who always finishes her homework on time and who sometimes had to give some tutoring to the other RAD classmates, which really tested her patience. Zuri is friendly towards Lucifer, in the sense that they have a nice friendship, however that wouldn't mean that she would agree with him on everything, in fact Zuri would consider Lucifer's intervention in class inappropriate, he could have scolded MC once outside the building and in any case, as her beloved, she would have used more tact, considering their tiredness during lessons. Zuri wouldn't be too surprised by MC's outburst, having foreseen that sooner or later they would explode, however she would be slightly concerned by their threat, considering it rather unusual. At that point Zuri would intervene, placing herself between MC and Lucifer, explaining that it was clearly their exhaustion speaking and that perhaps, if he and his brothers knew how to function without bothering MC, then they would perform better in class (ouch-). Still, Zuri would, with a little effort, make MC and Lucifer apologize to each other, taking charge of the situation from then on. Once the class is over, Zuri would offer private lessons for MC to catch up on the information missed in class

ODON

Odon is so ancient that honestly going to RAD is pretty pointless for them, they have a great affinity with magic and even if they discovered something new, Odon would learn it in an instant without making any effort, they only go to class to meet their friends and every now trying to make new ones, despite the difficulties given their reputation, it's a method to socialize. The eye-like creatures would immediately notice MC's predicament, reporting it to Odon, who would curiously watch the scene between Lucifer and MC. Odon is on good terms with Lucifer, they would like to get to know him, but the feeling is not very mutual, being that the demon doesn't trust them, understandable, but it still hurts Odon, if Lucifer were more relaxed, they imagine he would be more inclined to accept them. MC's threat would confuse Odon, not understanding what is so horrible about such drawing, so always with a smile, Odon would comment that even if somewhat unlikely as a phenomenon, they would be sure that pregnant Lucifer would glow, then not understanding his glare towards them. After class, Odon would ask MC if they wanted a ride on their back, given their exhaustion

REMIEL

Remiel is a very curious angel of death, dedicated to learning as much as possible about the world she doesn't know, genuinely interested and eager to be less naive regarding certain topics, in any case she learns quite quickly and has an amazing memory, so Remiel would a good student, without problems, if we don't count some initial comprehension difficulties. Remiel is still getting used to being in the presence of so many living beings, it's likely that she wouldn't be very familiar with Lucifer or the other demon brothers, so she wouldn't have a clear opinion of him. Remiel would tilt her head to the side in confusion at MC's threat towards Lucifer, not understanding the implication or why a drawing of such an imaginative event would upset him, there is a chance that being an innocent but blunt angel, she would ask for explanations from those directly involved, causing an awkward silence, at least for the others, to fall in the classroom. Once the lesson is over, having first sensed MC's tiredness, Remiel would suggest taking a restoring rest, perhaps while caressing their head they could also explain the matter of the drawing to her

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel seems to mind his own business in class, yet he would pay close attention to the space around him, even though he is already aware of many topics covered in class. As an angel of fairly high rank and who, unlike Remiel, was not busy reaping souls and leading them to the afterlife, Nathaniel would know Lucifer and would have remained on cordial terms, however he wouldn't approve of his method of approaching the problem with MC, clearly exhausted. Nathaniel would widen his eyes slightly at MC's outburst, however he would be lying if he said he was surprised, it was inevitable and furthermore he would catch the reference as soon as he heard the intention of drawing Lucifer pregnant, so discreetly, with an indecipherable expression, Nathaniel would show a pair of finger guns to MC, as if to say well done for not having immediately resorted to violence and for the touch of class of having added Father (god) to the threat. After lessons, Nathaniel would suggest doing something to help MC relax, given their exhaustion (Nathaniel can result grouchy when he skips his meditations for example)

URIEL

Uriel works hard in class, however she is a warrior, not a scholar, so studying theory wouldn't be her best, however she would be quite good at history, perhaps because she often ruminates on the past. In any case, the relationship between Uriel and Lucifer would be quite tense, due to the fact that she once looked up to him and now he is a demon, therefore she wouldn't tolerate criticisms made to MC, especially when Lucifer's brothers are the ones to mostly blame for messes. Uriel wouldn't understand what kind of threat would be drawing Lucifer pregnant, however, noticing his stunned face, she would think it implied something filthy and would intervene to stop such heresy immediately, adding not to mention god in vain. Uriel would report that she would take care of MC's situation personally and that Lucifer could be dismissed. After class, Uriel would advise MC to take some time off, because even warriors need to recharge and tomorrow would be another day to recover, also if anyone tried to disturb their rest, then Uriel would be the one to threaten to smite someone

[just-dreaming-marvel]

The Truth About Love ~ 11

THE TRUTH ABOUT LOVE MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,060ish

Summary:  Steve begins to spend more money on you.

Notes: I know it’s been a bit since I updated. I hope that this is okay. Please share your reactions.

As the semester continued on, you and Steve continued to spend as much time together as you could. Often, Steve would come by and help you clean up after work before the two of you headed over to his studio to study. That’s what you were doing now, standing in the elevator, heading up to Steve’s studio. The only difference is that your eyes were covered by Steve’s large hands.

“Steve,” you giggled, leaning back into him as you placed your hands over his to try and pry them away. “What are you doing?”

“It’s a surprise,” Steve responded. 

You didn’t need to see his face to know that he had a giddy smile on it. The elevator dinged and, still staying behind you and keeping his hands over your eyes, Steve guided you out of the elevator. Tripping over your own feet, you began to fall forward. One of Steve’s arms quickly wrapped around your waist to keep you up as his other hand moved to cover both of your eyes.

“I’ve got you,” Steve said softly in your ear. “I won’t let you fall.”

Your heart fluttered, knowing that Steve meant that in more than just the current moment. He turned you and continued to guide you toward one of the corners of his studio.

“Okay,” he said, coming to a stop. 

“Can I open my eyes now?” You asked, excited to see what Steve had in store for you.

“Yes.”

You opened your eyes just as he removed his hand from them. Your mouth fell open with a small gasp as your eyes took in the sight before you. The corner of Steve’s studio had been cleared out and now stood a grey cubicle. It wasn’t as ugly as cubicles found in most offices though, showing that it was clearly expensive. You took a careful step toward it, noting that there were really only two grey walls as the large floor-to-ceiling windows served as the other two. The grey walls were only about half-size, making it so Steve could easily come over and talk to you. 

Cautiously walking to the opening, you peered inside. The sight inside caused your breath to be taken away. There was an L-shaped desk with shelves scaling the grey walls, with a small whiteboard on the walls as well. The area was organized with school supplies: the nicest notebooks, a variety of pens and pencils, a duel printer-scanner, a stapler, a hole puncher, extra paper in a variety of colors, and sitting on top of the desk was a decent-sized box wrapped in shimmering silver paper with a black bow on top. There was also a clearly expensive rolling office chair in the center.

“Do you like it?” Steve’s nervous voice wondered from where he was still standing.

Honestly, you didn’t know how to respond. You were speechless, to put it lightly. This was honestly the most expensive gift you had ever been given, and you didn’t know how to take that. Glancing back at Steve, you knew that he meant well. Though it did remind you of your lack of money.

“I just felt like, since you’re studying here almost every night, that you deserved a space that was all your own,” Steve quickly explained, clearly worried about your response.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you responded. You stepped into the cubicle further, fingers brushing against the new walls. “It’s so…” 

Your words trailed off as you noticed a sketch pinned to one of the cubicle walls. You moved closer to see that it was of you, incredibly concentrated on one of your books. Your nose scrunched up with the cap of a pen in your mouth. A small note was scribbled to the side saying ‘my hard worker’ with Steve’s initials and a small heart. Your hand came out to brush your fingertips against the paper.

“Steve,” you breathed out in awe, “it’s lovely.”

“I did it the other day,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d put it in your new study area to remind you how strong and beautiful I believe you to be.”

You turned around and quickly went over and kissed him. You were becoming overwhelmed with the large—yet thoughtful—gift from Steve. You were hoping that the kiss would give Steve a good enough answer.

“There’s still one more gift,” Steve whispered as he pulled his lips away from yours. You looked at him confused. “Didn’t you see the box on the desk?”

“Oh, yes, I just blanked for a moment.”

You turned and went back into the cubicle. You were honestly nervous about what was in the box. This whole gift was already over the top and too expensive, you had a gut feeling that this was just going to push it over the top. Taking a shaky inhale, you lifted the top of the box and moved it to the side. There was tissue paper covering the actual gift. You could feel Steve’s eyes nervously watching you as your hands moved the paper away to reveal an iPad Pro, AirPods, Apple Pencil, and a keyboard case.

“I know that you have a laptop,” Steve said. “I just thought this might be easier to carry around and is very versatile.” 

You stayed silent, staring down at the new white Apple boxes. The decorated cubicle had to be at least a thousand dollars; the items in the box were worth more than that. Steve had just dropped over two thousand dollars on you.

“What do you think?” Steve asked.

“I… Honestly, Steve, this is all too much,” your voice was shaking slightly. “You really didn’t need to do all this.”

“I know and I know I might have gone a little overboard, but after you told me more about you—“

“What? You felt bad? Guilty?” You turned to face him. “Do you think that I need all of this? That the poor girl needs a rich guy to take care of her?”

“No, no, no!” Steve quickly shook his head. “That’s not what I was trying to do at all.” 

He moved toward you with urgency, hands out so that he could easily touch you. You didn’t move, just staring at him with a look of disappointed anger. His hands made contact with your arms and rushed down them to take ahold of your hands. Steve was thankful that you didn’t pull away.

“I just—Well—You’ve been working so hard at school and work, and I just felt like you deserve a place and the nicest things.”

“I don’t need all of the nicest things, Steve.”

“I know, but you deserve them.” You looked away, causing Steve to sigh. “I’m sorry. I went overboard and didn’t realize how it would make you feel. I will try my very best not to do it again.”

~~~

Not that you didn’t like your new study area, it was just odd to have such nice things just for yourself. For the next week, Steve made sure that you were okay with it. You felt bad for making him feel like it wasn’t enough or that you weren’t grateful. You were grateful, but you just knew the value of handwork and weren’t used to just getting what you wanted.

Steve didn’t do anything big like that but continued to spend his money on you. First, it was eating out a few times a week. Then it turned into him buying your groceries and other needed household items. He even bought you the correct feminine products that you often used. As the weather turned colder, you wouldn’t accept Steve’s money to get a cab or Uber to your job and school. You refused to use your own car, especially as the roads turned icy, because it was older and not necessarily trustworthy. Steve offered to pay for it to get it fixed but you quickly refused.

Steve knew that you didn’t like him spending money on you, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to make sure that you were taken care of, even though he knew that you could take care of yourself. The thought had crossed his mind to steal your car and get it fixed—or even buy you a new car—but he knew that you would be furious with him. Remembering that Tony teased him about getting a car, Steve decided to get a car for himself. 

After closing up the coffee shop one night, you and Steve walked out, hand-in-hand. You looked around, searching for the motorcycle as it began to sprinkle.

“Steve, where’s your bike?” You asked, still looking around.

He shrugged and he led you along. “I put it in storage for the winter,” he explained. “I felt it wasn’t safe enough for us to be riding on.”

“Oh, so did you get a cab or an Uber? Or are we going to walk home as it begins to rain?”

He chuckled. “No, we’re going to take this.” 

Steve pointed over to a new, shiny, blue truck that had been hiding a few cars down from the coffee shop. You took it in, mentally noting that the truck couldn’t have been cheap. Nervously licking your lips, you realized that ever since Steve and you had opened up about your pasts, Steve had been more apt to spend his money.

“Do you like it?” Steve asked. It seemed to be a popular question coming from him these days.

“I, uh… Is it yours?” You questioned, not really knowing what to say.

“Yeah, I figured that us riding the motorcycle in the winter wouldn’t be ideal and your car isn’t the safest.”

Steve helped you into the passenger’s seat, shutting the door before jogging around to the driver’s side. He started the truck and headed into traffic.

“So… you just bought this truck?” You asked, feeling a mix of emotions. “Did you have to sell the motorcycle?”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “The motorcycle is parked at my Ma’s house.”

You nodded and turned your head to stare out the window. The rest of the ride to Steve’s studio was completely silent. When you arrived there, Steve parked the car and moved to face you.

“Are you alright?” Steve carefully asked. “You seem a bit detracted.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded, shooting him a small smile. “Just tired.”

He returned a small smile before setting a gentle hand on your knee. “Let’s get you inside to do some homework and then of to bed.”

~~~

A few days later, you found yourself at your kitchen island, budgeting. Natasha was on a date with Bucky while Steve was supposed to show up at any moment. You sighed as tears pricked your eyes. You were going to have to get a second job in order to pay your bills and tuition. With your elbows propped on the table, your head fell into your hands. You squeezed your eyes closed as you heard the door knob turn and Steve enter.

“I brought lunch!” Steve exclaimed. “I just went to—Y/N?” He noticed how down you were. “What’s going on? Did something happen?” He rushed to sit on the stool beside you, setting the bag of food down.

“I… I’m fine,” you sat up straight, rubbing the tears away from your eyes.

“Please don’t lie. I want to help you.”

You sighed. “I’m just stressed… I have to get another job in order to pay my bills and tuition next semester.”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “No, I can pay for it.”

“Steve, you know how I feel about that. You already spend too much on me. I need to pay for this myself. It’s important to me that I do that.”

“But you are already overworked and overstressed, adding another job on top of that wouldn’t be helpful.”

“People do it all the time.”

“But you don’t have to. Let me help you.”

“You can help me by supporting me in this, Steve, but no more spending money on me. At least, not any more than you already do.”

“I—“

“Steve… please.”

Steve knew that you really didn’t want him to spend any more money on you. Your eyes were pleading with him to agree with you. He sighed, looking down with a nod.

“Okay… okay. I won’t help you in that respect, I promise.”

next chapter >

TAGLIST IS CLOSED - Taglist Information

[stardropcritter]

Welcome to the Valley~

I kept getting distracted instead of making a small summary post for Iris' playthrough, but I want to put it up here before I play too far lol. I've been working on some sketches for her, but please enjoy the WIPS since I keep getting distracted. During the first years, her main circle of friends is: Shiro, Yuuma, Philip, Sebastian, Sam, Leah, Hayley, Alex Kiarra, & Shane :)

The bus ride was rather exausting, but after Lewis and Robin showed her to the new farm, Iris was very pleased to have the afternoon to get settled. She probably spent most of the first week just clearing the land around the farmhouse, and enough to clear a small path towards the town, and the mountains, as well as one around her coop so she doesn't lose track of the chicks when they are out.

She ran into Alex pretty quickly, probably on the second or third day. He found her petting Dusty, chatting to the good boy. Iris isn't a super sporty person, but lots of classmates and coworkers in Zuzu were big gridball fans so she knows enough of it. She feels like Alex is a bit full of himself, but a good guy. They click well enough.

The meeting with Abigail and her family was not the best, she was a bit on edge that morning, and Abby came in swinging with the "It's a shame you moved here" welcome line. Pierre was also pushing the salesman front quite hard, and Iris can't stand that.

She met Phillip, Yuuma, and Shiro very briefly on a day when they were in Pelican Town for their therapy. It was just a short conversation, but she got along well with all of them.

It took her nearly two weeks to get the courage to take the cable cars up to the ridge. The first ride she ended up having a panic attack, during the afternoon. A tourist who was taking the car along with her ran to get Lenny and Paula while Iris struggled to get to her feet and get her heart and breathing under control. Phillip, Shiro, and Yuuma happened to be coming back on the next car, and Phillip was quick to help talk her through the attack. Girl was mortified, but super appreciative when they all walked her to the hotel for a bit.

Since then, she would say hi to them whenever she saw them in town. She didn't go back to the ridge for another 2 weeks though.

When she learned that Yuuma often stopped at Pierre's on his own to do grocery shopping she's determined to give him a hand. She shifts her schedule around a little bit so that she has one day she can spend up at the ridge. She offers to help Yuuma carry the groceries up. He does initially say it's ok and he doesnt want to cause trouble for her, but she tells him he would actually be helping her- having a goal/chore that takes her up on a regular basis can help her get over her fears. Plus, she'd feel safer if he keeps her company. He says ok after that. I headcanon Yuuma as like 8 years old or so? I don't remember if we ever get any closer age.

Throughout the first year she becomes very close with Shiro, Philip and Yuuma. Yuuma especially starts to see her as a sort of older sister, feels comfortable asking her for help, and sometimes asks to visit her farm. Iris also fully adopts Yuuma, and does her best to lessen the workload for him.

She beat Abigail at the egg hunt during the first year and Abigail was wildly bitter about it, not helping. These two just do not get along.

It doesn't help when Abigail walks by Sam's and sees that Iris is hanging out on the lawn in front of his places with both Sam and Sebastian (Abigail is crushing hard on Seb, and is a wee possesive)

Nearly missed the summer Luau, she was completely lost in finishing a new book that Sebastian had just lent her. They share similar tastes in what they like reading, and this along with music is the main building point of their friendship.

Her friends and some of their fam start picking up on her habit of making little cards or bookmarks or small trinkets with pressed flowers and leaving them around as surprise gifts for them. Granny Evelyn in particular loves getting these, and Iris is happy to help her out with the garden beds around town from time to time. Alex finds this mega endearing.

Seb, Sam, and Iris continue the Solarian Chronicles campaign, and Victor and Sophia join them later in the year. The group begins to become a bit closer due to this. Abi joins from time to time, but seems to never quite feel comfortable or fit the party much.

She gets along well with Shane, and they're close-ish but she was very surprised and very worried when she found just how bad his mental health is. She makes a concsious effort to check in on him more often, and they somtimes have evenings where she brings a book and reads at the ranch while he helps Marnie, and they chat on and off. Shane still delivers feed and other things from Marnie's to her farm, and has definitely found her asleep on the floor of the coop with a book in her lap, and a chicken too, on more than one occasion. Maybe he thinks thats cute, but you won't be hearing him admit it.

Fall, um.... June Arrived. And Iris might be in trouble y'all.

She loves listening to him play the piano at the Ridgeside hotel, and they get along very well. He's even more of a coffee nerd than she is, which was surprising. So when they had a little breakfast hangout/date and he was nerding out about coffee, no, she wasn't bored at all. Was that a blush? maybe.

and holycrapJunewhat That dialogue killed me- Iris was trying to be a silly flirt and I feel like June absolutely called her bluff and left her a tomato-faced mess. It's a shame he's only here for half of the year, she'd love to get to know him better.

She continues to to become closer with Shiro, Phillip and Yuuma. (Yuuma was the first villager i got full hearts with). She occasionally helps them with the physio as well, and some minor chores at the Kobayashi house. It's a nice way to spend time with them and chat, and for the first few months while she didn't have a kitchen, it was a good excuse to use theirs and make them dinner sometimes.

Dinner at the Legame house also becomes somewhat of a frequent occasion- She likes to help out Kiarra, and they always end up chatting late into the night. Iris loves listeining to all of Kiarra's wild stories with Joja sabotage and boycotts. Anton also grows to really enjoy her company, but his heart belongs to Paula.

As we turn to spring of Year 2, the layout of the farm is looking like this! She keeps a steady turnaround of coffee and tea, two grape varieties and honey. She makes wine and jam as well and only a small-ish selection of seasonal crops. She grows flowers near her house, and is working on renovating the little guest cabin close to the shipping box. And we got our first cow!