#the other ones are life sketches from the cafe area

[mayhems-cannon]

some more Orsay things

[minigirl87]

MINE! With Steven Grant. Part 1.

Steven Grant x F'Reader

So, having written a few one-shots with hints of NSFW. I have taken the plunge to attempt a two-part NSFW story. Please be kind. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. If you enjoy and want tagged for part 2, let me know. The Westmacott athlete is an ancient Greek sculpture in the British Museum it's underlined, and if you click it, it will take you to BM website for info on it. Enjoy. Please let me know if you want part 2.

SUMMARY:

Steven thinks that you're both going to have a nice lunch after his work, but after waiting, he goes to find you in the sculpture gallery of the museum. Finding you in the arms of another. Angry (not at reader), hurt, and jealous, Steven. Established relationship your married to them. Mentions of past bad relationships. Steven is sassy.

Warnings:

NSFW. Minors DNI. Talk and sexual actions. No smut in this part. Anxious reader due to past relationship.

Word count: 1269

Steven stood behind his till bored with a capital B. He watched people mull around the gift shop and leave. Somewhere breaking the everyday museum chaos, a child screaming breaks through.

Must have seen Donna. He smirks to himself, turning to find the time out. Just before 1pm, not long till he finishes now. You said you’d meet in the museum cafe for lunch today, as you were in there studying the sculptures for your university course.

Clock watching isn’t a good idea. The times are just going slower for him. He finishes with a customer, telling them something about they book they bought. As Jill comes back from her break, she smiles as she takes over from him.

With spring in his steps, he says his goodbyes to her and gets his stuff and heads for the cafe. 10 minutes have passed. Looking at his watch, he frowns as one of his rich velvety curls falls onto his forehead.

He stands up, thinking you’ve probably lost track of time. And heads for the sculpture gallery. He recognizes your sweet but excited voice and smiles. Turning the corner, his smile automatically fades.

“Now Y/N! Can you not feel the contour of the muscles of the thigh?” Tom says, guiding your hand in his down the cool, smooth marble. His other hand on your waist as he’s pressed up against your back.

“Yes, the Westmacott athlete is very impressive.” You say in aw, staring at the stunningly impressive piece of art.

“I especially like how defined the muscular torso and the dip of the pubic” you continue.

“Pubic area, eh?” Tom laughs, taking your hand and putting it closely over the statues phallus. “Tom” you half laugh half squeak, glad no one is presently in this part of the gallery.

Anger, hurt, or both boil in Steven’s gut. I'm glad that neither Marc nor Jake are co conscious. He watches a little longer and is about to leave when he hears Tom say “is my pretty girl getting embarrassed”

Before you can scorn Tom for that remark, Steven sees red.

“Y/N is not your pretty girl, mate” as the forcefully heads over towards you both.

“Ste, Steven” you stutter out, face in shock. Tom isn’t for letting go now. In fact, he squeezes you tighter against him. “ So, you're the Stevie, that Y/N prattles on about. Tom draws out sarcastically. “Steven actually with a V” venomously leaves Steven’s mouth with a hiss.

“well Steven with a V, I was just about to show darling Y/N, some pleasure about the Greeks sex life. He says, trying to intimidate Steven.

You feel like a mouse trapped between to cats, anxiety crawling at your throat threatening to choke you.

You didn’t want this. You don’t even like Tom. You were we’re uncomfortable being near him. But he had discovered you here in the museum gallery, sketching and taking notes. And waiting for Steven to be finished.

But Tom, who was in your class. Had a thing for you. You were trying to be pleasant and answered him with closed questions, hoping he’d go way. But it didn’t take the hint, and when his hands went yours, you flinched about to tell I’m off.

When his arm snakes around you, you go into panic mode and dutifully just answer Tom. You wished Steve would come and save you.

Steven looks like he’s ready to rip Tom apart. When You wriggle free of him when his phone buzzes. You scurry to Steven, wrapping your arms around him, burying your head into his broad chest. You feel yourself calming down his sent a mixture of citrus, lavender, and cotton.

Steven doesn’t relax or even look at you. He remains tense, with a slight hint of Marc to his eyes.

You know he’s hurting more and being angry. He puts an arm around you protectively, squeezing a bit too tight. You know a bruise will form later.

“Y/N is mine, My Wife. You don’t touch or even look at her. Mine. Do you understand.”

You had said to people that Steve was the sweetest, nicest, most gentlemanly man. She was as well as handsome, strong, and that he was one the world’s best husband, the other 2 being Marc and Jake.

Tom backed away quickly, nearly tripping over his feet, and disappeared with the same energy.

Steven looks down to you, expression not changing slightly.

“WE’RE GOING HOME NOW, Get your stuff.” grabbing your favourite colour satchel and putting your books away, putting your bag on your shoulder.

Steven softens “Put your jacket on love, it’s breezy outside” You smile, putting it on.

“HOME” Steven forcefully grabs your hand.

“Home” you repeat, as Steven pulls you away from the gallery and out the museum.

Steven’s mind is racing with thoughts about what might have happened to you. He trusts you, no doubt about that. He also knows that you get scared around certain personalities, especially men’s like you, ex.... but even knowing that, he’s still jealous.

Waiting for the bus home. Steven looks at you, your beautiful, your smile radiates sunshine. He can understand how people would want you, and you love him. He knows this.

You both get on the bus, oyster card bleeping. Stevens is still quiet, holding your hand. You now think he’s angry with you, if only you could read his thoughts. You would think very differently.

But we’ll he’s still jealous, seeing His hands on you. He remembered that you had told him of Tom, and you dislike of him. How you were uncomfortable around him as he tried to touch you, even after you told him not to.

You want to say something but don’t know what.

When we get home I’m going to show her how much I love her and leave my mark on her so people will know she’s mine, Show him she’s MINE, my beautiful wife.

Exiting the bus, the short walk back to the flat is filled with electricity between you and Steven. Entering the entrance way heading to the lift, Steven speaks to the elderly lady who lives across the landing from you. You smile at her, saying hello. She exits as you and Steven enter the lift.

The lift dings on your floor, and your exit heading to the flat door. Steven let’s go of your hand, and he unlocked the door. He walks into the flat, throws his keys and bag down, the lands with a thump and a clang.

You follow clutching your favourite colour satchel to your chest now. But Stevens is not in front anymore. Suddenly the flat door bangs and you jump, dropping your favourite colour satchel.

“Ste...Steven” you say, shaking now. You're not sure what’s happening.

Steven Stalks towards you, the flats dim light reflects of his fully blown obsidian eyes. He stands at his full height, looking at you like your prey. He rubs his thumb and fore finger along the hem of your blouse, you shiver as his rubs against your waist.

Steven steps closer and leans his head down and breathes in he smells HIM.

He grabs your chin, making you look at him as the growls “I smell him, SHOWER NOW.” You feel the words rumble through him. Sending a bolt heat surging through your core.

You nod, relieved that Steven is angry at you.

You turn to head to the shower, you feel Steven’s hand slap your arse cheek, Steven groans.

“Quickly now” as he watches you disappear, palming his semi hardness through his jeans. “I’ll be waiting love”

You smile, hearing his softness as you close the bathroom door.

The looks I thought of for Steven were inspierd by this stunning visualise concept by the very talented artist @guruan . If you love moon kight, you must check out and follow their blog. The first is when Steven goes looking for you. The second is when he sees you with Tom, and the third is, after leading to part two.

@melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @welcometostayingawake @missscarlettangel @missdictatorme @steven-grants-world @jake-g-lockley @soonknight @guruan @annautumnsoul

If you want me to remove it from this, please let me know.

[softranswolves]

So It's You

Summary: Stiles builds a Little Free Library to share his accumulation of books. A mysterious stranger keeps leaving books in exchange with a label of P. Hale, sparking Stiles to theorize who it may be. Pairing: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale, Allison Argent, briefly Noah Stilinski Rating: Teen Warnings: Implication of underage, but not explicit at all Written for the Stiles Shipping Central Fic Exchange for @sapphireginger! Sorry it's late!! <3

Shuffling through the collection of books sitting on the bed in front of him, Stiles groaned in frustration and let himself fall back onto the chair. He ran his hands through his hair, unable to commit. 

"Something bothering you?" Noah's head popped around the door frame, noticing the signs of being stuck. 

"I can't choose. Don't get me wrong, I still want to do this. But how to I depart with one of my babies? I've spent so long collecting them!"

"You do realize you can just... take them back out?" His eyebrows scrunched up, amused at his son. 

"But that's not the point. It's take one, leave one, simple as that." He stood again, hand on his hip as he pondered more. "Alright, fine. I'll just do a variety of genres, hit on anybody's interest."

Noah knew Stiles wasn't talking to him anymore, and he exited without preamble. He could still hear Stiles muttering and he shook his head, recognizing that his son didn't fall too far from the tree. 

An hour later, at the edge of the Preserve where pamphlets about the hiking trails were placed, Stiles set his box of books down. He nodded to himself as he surveyed the area, choosing a spot with damp soil to stake the frame into. Attaching the wood to its base took longer than anticipated, but after enough maneuvering it was done. Stiles stepped back to admire his work, pleased with the sight. A sketch of a wolf adorned one side, and the other contained a symbol he'd seen around town, three swirls reaching out from a center point. When he'd looked it up, the name of it seemed to be a triskelion. He figured it was significant to the roots of the town and thought it would be a nice ode to the past. 

Pulling a sharpie out of his pocket, Stiles pulled the cap off with his mouth and wrote Little Free Library on the front of the structure above its opening. He smiled to himself, proud of what he'd accomplished, and filled his books in. He covered a range, from poetry to supernatural fiction, queer rom-coms to true crime. He set an event reminder on his phone to check back in a week to see if there were any takers. 

"Need to get that?" Allison asked, nodding toward Stiles' phone. She popped the last bite of her croissant into her mouth, following it with the rest of her coffee. 

"Oh shit! I completely forgot," Stiles started, already collecting his things. 

"Forgot what?" Allison asked, trailing after him. She followed him to the jeep out of habit, sliding into the seat next to him. 

"A quest," Stiles said, grinning at her. He turned the key, having to try a few times before the ignition started. 

"Life is a quest with you," Allison teased. "Just don't forget you're supposed to drop me off at Lydia's after, okay?"

"What, you got a hot date to get to?" Stiles glanced at her and smirked, knowing the answer. They'd tried dating the year prior but realized they worked much better as friends. Since then she'd grown quite close to Lydia.

"You know the answer, asshole." The words were in jest as she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. 

The rest of the short drive went by in silence; Beacon Hills was only so large that the Preserve was barely fifteen minutes away from the cafe. When they arrived, Stiles hopped out of the jeep and pumped his arms, noticing not only that books were gone, there were now new ones. He turned back to look at Allison, grinning when he saw her smile. Those dimples always got him.

Always keeping one on hand, Stiles ran back to the jeep and reached inside, flailing a little until he reached the book on the seat. He wanted to follow the rules he himself set out, and placed the book in the library, taking one with him. He noticed a fancy label on the upper corner of the cover with the name P. Hale and was intrigued. Clearly this person cared about their books, but why would they part with something they treasured enough to claim?

“We gotta go,” Allison called out, reminding Stiles about his promise. 

He walked back to the jeep again, the cogs in his head spinning in consideration. The whole drive to Lydia’s he couldn’t stop wondering about the book, and over the course of the next week, he kept thinking of it, even coming up with theories with Allison. She always shot him down, though he was particularly fond of the one where he thought perhaps a werewolf was hiding in the woods, reading when there wasn’t a full moon. Maybe it wanted to understand the human world and found itself enraptured with a crime series.

“Okay, that’s where I draw the line,” Allison finally said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “It’s one thing to theorize about various Beacon Hills citizens, but werewolves? There’s no such thing.”

“How do you know? You can’t disprove it.”

Allison didn’t humor him with a response, instead choosing to walk away. Stiles watched her, suddenly coming up with a plan. He was going to conduct a stakeout on his little library. He sent a text to his dad saying he would be home late and drove straight to the Preserve after school, parking inconspicuously against the treeline. There were other cars parked there as well, various hikers and sightseers to provide ample cover.

After ten minutes, Stiles was incredibly bored. He gave up after another hour, choosing to come back regularly on days he didn’t have lacrosse practice. Another week went by until Stiles caught sight of the target. It was a man about his height, more built than him, wearing an exceedingly low-cut cardigan buttoned up to a v-cut neckline. Stiles tilted his head in amusement, wondering what prompted the man to bare his chest like that. 

The distraction thankfully only lasted a few moments before Stiles remembered his goal, jumping out of the jeep to race over to the culprit.

“So it’s you!” Stiles shouted, pointing a finger at the man.

“So it’s me,” he responded, a slight curl to his lip in amusement. “Can I help you?”

Stiles couldn’t help his blush, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He opened his mouth before shutting it, shaking his head, and trying again.

“This is my library. Well, it’s for the community. But I built it. You’re P. Hale aren’t you?”

“My friends call me Peter,” he said, placing his latest contribution in Stiles’ hand. 

“Does that include me?”

“If you’d like. Otherwise it’s Mr. Hale. Your choice, just like it’s your choice whether or not we get a coffee.”

“Oh you’re smooth, Peter. Okay then, it’s a deal. But first - why the fascination with this series? And why leave them when you seem to care about them?” Stiles was initially more fixated on his fictitious mystery than the proposition Peter gave.

“Hmm.” The sound was one of consideration, warm and inviting to stay for the answer. “Perhaps your theory about werewolves isn’t too far off base.”

Stiles gawked at Peter, jaw dropping. He barely noticed his hand being lifted and rotated to expose his wrist to Peter’s lips until they made contact. 

“Well then,” Stiles said. He was lost for words for what was possibly the first time in his life. “I guess we better get that coffee. Or uh, perhaps something else?”

“Whatever you’d like, little fox.”

[because-she-goes]

nike’s ascension

warnings: none. Enjoy!

Nora was now entering junior year at The Parsons School of Design. Yes, that Parsons. She had gotten accepted after she sent in a portfolio of her post-rehab work and the admissions team realized she was not just some regular New York girl who saw art as a hobby to do for a few years before marrying a Wall-Street guy and having babies in the Hamptons.

This was Nora Downey, a woman who had used art to work through her emotions and trauma and saw how it could help heal. A woman who had oil paint flowing in her veins and her skin may as well have been marble or clay. It consumed her every being, all she thought about was art - from the moment she woke up in the morning and poured her morning coffee while looking over the Art and Culture pages of the New York Times to going to sleep at night to the sounds of the city she loved. She had officially moved out of her underclassmen dorm, and with the help and blessing of her parents had gotten an apartment in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. It was small and cramped, but it was close to a studio and the subway so she could get to her classes up in Manhattan. It was her home.

She brought up the subject of her moving to her parents while at a cafe in the Gramercy area. She acknowledged that with her being more successful she could manage to pay for her rent, grocery, utilities and any other bills while helping her parents with tuition payments when possible. With the success of her rehab and underclassmen work, she landed an internship with the Metropolitan Museum of Art in their curating department and assisted in finding fresh pieces to add to their extensive collections as well as organizing their current pieces that were in storage and not for display.

She adored her life. Nora - or Nike as most of her friends called her - had a great job, a somewhat steady income, a decent-enough boyfriend to come home to, adoring parents, a good rapport with her therapist Linda and she was doing what she loved in the city she loved. She had her routine: get up at 7am, get coffee for the curating team at the Met, show up by 7:45am, stay and work until 2pm, then go to her studio classes and work on her next piece until 6pm, then meet Derek for dinner. It was what she always dreamt of. The quiet yet fulfilling life of an artist.

The fall semester went by in a breeze, Nora being the star pupil in her Junior Abstract Studio course. She had been working non-stop for months, at times her and her friends would order pizza to the studio and blast music all night and work through until sunrise. Sharing paints, ideas, sketch books and even bedrooms and couches - she was lucky enough to have a group of friends who not only supported and encouraged her work, but brought out the best in her and pushed her to improve. The group of students would then stumble out of the studio like zombies, going to the bodega for breakfast sandwiches and coffees before the cycle restarted.

Nora was in the zone, on her A game. Even now, all these years later the stories of Nora Downey surround Parsons like Greek myths, freshman whispering over how she topped the New Yorker’s Ones to Watch list that year, had 15 pieces sold before December her first year and rose like a phoenix from the coals of addiction. She was unreal. A legend among men. And she wasn’t even a senior yet.

Speaking of her senior year she had sold more works than any other individual in her class, was working on a senior thesis to present to her peers that spring, and was being pursued by every art curator she knew to get her work in their museum. She knew her stuff was sought after, but she was still humble enough to recognize she was not the only talented woman about to graduate from Parsons. She had friends who were able to make the most stunning gowns out of thin air, create buildings off a sketch, make interiors for the city’s most iconic apartment buildings, and more. She was able to recognize the power of being a woman in the arts and the inherent sisterhood that comes with that. This was something her male colleagues still refused to acknowledge - that they weren’t these special entities the media or press made them out to be, that their work was simply a variant of works that came before them and inspired the modern day. Her male counterparts would brag about themselves to various publications about how they were God’s gift to art or put on some grand display of coolness - wearing leather jackets and sunglasses in the middle of New York Summer during their break. The men tried to come off effortlessly cosmopolitan, unbothered or unknowing of their success while Nora and her friends had the wherewithal to know they were not only successful, but they had unashamedly worked hard to get to that point. The idea of putting effort into one’s work and actually caring about that process was not something to be meek about to Nora. It was this simple trait of Nora’s that cemented her as the shining star of Parson’s art program. She was disinterested in the notion that caring was uncool or unchic.

The ability to recognize that. That was what made Nora Downey into Nike. She both gave a shit about her work and also worked to not only advocate for other women, but would give them her spotlight and space without a second thought.

By the time she graduated, Nora had mentioned over 200 other female artists currently working in New York. And in her final interview with Parsons, she simply gave a single statement to explain why she found so much success:

“Because, women must hold each other and support one another to get anywhere in life. I owe all of my success so far to those who have come before me and those who work beside me. Without them, I’d be nowhere.”

With this, Nora finished her collegiate career with a series taking inspiration from her colleagues and the women who helped her improve over the years, gave her critiques, gave her support, gave her a shoulder to cry on or food in her stomach after locking herself in her studio. Some composed of black and white images, some more graphic and colorful, the dichotomy of being bold while also showing her restraint and understanding of when to be subtle being the hallmark of the collection. All of these elements taken from what she not only learned from her friends and peers, but also Parsons and its teachers.

She was smart enough to know that she had gotten a second lease on life and a chance to pursue her passion as a career - a chance many are not fortunate enough to receive - so why not put everything into her work and give herself the best possible life and experience she could. Why not put her all into this? Why not see where luck and determination lead her? In Nike, and herself, she trusts.

[omishu]

1, 4, 11, 19 (I’m 90% sure you would, so WHAT would you paint them?), 24, 33, 43, 46, 48

So many questions and I don't remember what they were! Lol had to go back and look up the ask meme.

1. Who is/are [my] comfort characters?

Probably Luffy from One Piece. I have so many fond memories of my connection to him as I grew up with the series, same for Sakura from Card Captor.

4. Which cryptyd being do [I] believe in?

Tbh I believe in a lot of supernatural/mythological/fairytale creatures, but I don't think they exist in all the same ways that people usually imagine them.

11. Favorite extracurricular activity?

Probably hiking. I just really enjoy spending time in nature, but I don't do it nearly as much as I'd like (thanks, depression).

19. imagine we're at a sleepover, would [I] paint [your] nails?

Hell yeah! People keep buying me nail polish but I never use it on myself. I love giving makeovers though. It's the cosplayer in me. I've done some fun designs on people's nails before. For you, I'd probably do a cat theme with different little kitties in neutral colors on each nail. I just think that'd be fun to have and might make you smile to look down at your hands and see. (ofc Napoleon and Lewis would make appearances)

24. if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

I think we might each have a cup of warm cider and do plein air sketches of the sky or smth. And of course we'd talk about life and comfort each other and maybe laugh together. Maybe show each other recent pictures of interesting things we've done or seen recently. Just vibing.

33. the last adventure [I]'ve been on?

Well, my mom has been trying to drag me out of the house occasionally because y'know (depression). But recently we went out to this farm and stopped at every art gallery along the way. When we were on a main highway type back road (oxymoronic, I know), it was around lunch time and I saw a sign for a cafe detour. We pulled off and drove for a while through basically nothing and found a random tiny town. Little Washington has this fancy-ass inn that's like a 5-star hotel with a michelin star restaurant. The whole area is basically built up around this inn and has a bunch of art galleries and other little fun up-scale shops. It was so weird to find out in the middle of nowhere, and we'd never heard of it. But it was a pretty cool little place, even though it was kind of a ghost town when we were there.

43. what's [my] take on spicy foods? Hell yeah, BB!! I love 'em. One time when I was at a concert in high-school, a couple of my Korean friends made me some spicy ramen. Since then nothing really seems that spicy. But I love to get hot hot hot curry and wings. Now I'm craving spicy food, yummy.

46. Favorite holiday film?

Hm well we both know I love Klaus if we're talking about winter holidays. I feel like there are probably others that I like to watch every year, but I just love Klaus sm.

48. when did [I] first try an alcohol beverage?

I had a really awkward golden birthday (I turned 21 on the 21st) celebration, definitely one of the most disappointing and underwhelming. And I had never tried alcohol before I turned 21. My sister and I went to a winery for tastings, so I think that was probably my first wine. My first beer I split with a friend from my Japan-America cultural exchange group at a fancy sushi place after an obon matsuri at a local Buddhist temple, and I still haven't had a beer better than that one.

I think that's all of them! Hopefully these satiate your curiosity, my dear xoxo

[oliviainjapann]

Independent Excursion- Media

Ghibli Museum

For my media excursion on this trip, I decided to go to the Ghibli Museum in Mitaka with Loryn, Maddie, Cadence, and my friend Chandra from home! My disclaimer is that I have actually never truly seen a Ghibli film before, besides Howl’s Moving Castle and Ponyo at a friend’s house but veryyy long ago so I don’t remember anything about them. Regardless, I had heard it was a must do while in Tokyo, so I was thrilled to snatch tickets for the 5 of us which is extremely hard to do. I was in a queue of 8,000 people but someone got placed in 200th so there were still many spots left for the day we wanted! We decided to go after our farming activity day as we had some time to spare in the afternoon. The 4 of us girls took the train as well as a Ghibli themed bus straight to the museum where we got to meet up with Chandra! Already from the outside of the museum it was clear how much though and intention was put into the museum’s layout. A large figure of Totoro stood behind glass at the entrance, and the building had a very whimsical and magical feeling to it with the colors chosen and greenery surrounding it. Upon entering, we were immediately greeted with the most cheerful workers, and were given movie tickets to see a showing of the special film with never before seen footage from one of their existing films! We began walking around the various exhibits and rooms, each of them focusing on the process of creating a Ghibli film, from brainstorming that Ghibli himself made in his office to the series of sketches put together to create each film, to seeing short clips play on the walls, allowing us to visualize the hard work come to life. Once we finished inside, we went outside to their outdoor exhibit where they had a massive figure from one of the films (I don’t know his name lol), and some areas that were replicas of the scenes from within certain films which I thought was pretty cool and made me feel like I was in one of the movies! We then got to try out the cafe where Maddie and I got yummy coffee floats and some cake before we head over to the last showing of the short film! This was probably the best part of my experience, and of course how it ties this museum to my reflection in the next section. The museum closed soon after the film ended so we had to leave shortly, but I am so happy to have gotten the opportunity to come here and gain an appreciation of these famous Japanese films!

Media Reflection

As I said before, the part of the museum that stood out to me the most was the short film from “My Neighbor Totoro” that has never been shown outside of the museum! The synopsis of this film was a young girl, the star of the original Ghibli film, on a small journey to find Totoro after being chased and afraid due to a tornado that was after her. The 20 minute film was too short! I did not want it to end and although it was fully in Japanese, the words were minimal and it made me focus on the actions and storyline that I was seeing with my eyes rather than hearing.

Already off the bat, it was clear how special these Ghibli films are to the Japanese culture as seeing this short film is a very coveted experience and the only way to do so is to attend the museum itself. During this trip, as a class we had already learned about the “cuteness” of Japan and how Japan has this sort of “soft power” over other countries as the country as a whole capitalizes on the childlike media and goods that it exports to other nations. Despite the controversy that this take on control has, I believe that in some ways, it is much more complex than just the visuals that we tend to see being portrayed and marketed to us. Going into this Ghibli museum and film showing, I was fully expecting to find it much too childish for me and I thought there were be not deeper meaning to the films other than a simple and surface-level storyline. I was completely proved wrong as I first, learned about the complex process and thought that goes into making even a 5 second clip out of the hour plus long films, and second, experienced first-hand a clip that had a deep meaning about friendship and perseverance build into the child-like characters. It was so captivating to me how the film started with a very simple storyline of a little girl being chased by a tornado, yet it turned into a film full of adventure, friendship, teamwork, and even comfort by the end of it, encapsulating so many different emotions in just 20 minutes of my time.

I think this is extremely notable especially for the children of today, because I feel as though there are many cartoons and overall media that children watch that provide them with no intellectual challenge, and forces them to put no thought or effort into what they are watching. This serves as a great issue, as critical thinking and problem solving, as well as simple character development as one ages, is essential for life in general and creating advancements within our civilization. On one hand, I understand some people’s concerns about certain media that Japan produces that is silly or thought-less, but America is guilty of this as well as seen through much of our cartoons on Nickelodeon for instance. However, on the other hand, this film that I viewed at the Ghibli Museum was able to truly change my perception on Japanese media and anime, and adjust my misguided perceptions of this soft power towards a more open-minded and understand perspective on why Japan portrays itself the way it does. I truly believe that if more people, specifically foreigners, are exposed to the more meaningful Japanese media, such as these wonderful Ghibli films, then they can slowly shift their perception of Japan away from the negative rep it gets for being “kawaii”. Instead, people can begin to understand that this country uses media to express so much raw human emotion and happiness to show us how to live our lives in a more imaginative and childlike way to stay young at heart forever.

[kpop-bg-roleplay]

By the time it was for me to change my clothes to go outside, I bandaged my wrist and put on a long coat that hides most of my figure in it to not raise suspicions in public. If any pedestrian saw me in my usual state, they put me in a hospital to recover my weight or in an asylum to be a vegetable for the rest of my life. Either way doesn't sound great to me here.

Meeting up with Mingi was something else that I didn't get to be used to. I don't see that giant at the headquarters or at the cafe these days, which means one less person to act my revenge out on and an unreadable individual that I could use for my stepping stone. Unless I do something that impresses him, which is getting the deal on a bargain and go back to being a hermit crab. At least they would treat me like a normal human being.

The ride on the car was silent majority of the time, the only thing that's somewhat making a sound is me doodling on my notebook that I packed with me during the ride. I wasn't a talkative person and it would be doing something productive instead of staring out of the window the whole time thinking when exactly I'll be free to run away from this place. If anything, I can use that opportunity to get in contact with a few people to give them the exact directions to the cafe. It doesn't have to be my handwriting that reveals it. I didn't have a phone anymore after they took away, those stingy people don't know the importance of Amazon shopping. It's been a year since I've missed new releases, I want to feel pretty once in a while, too.

Stopping at a red light when I finished my doodle, I looked briefly at Mingis direction to see a loose strand of hair out of place. I wanted to fix it so badly, but he said not to talk unless absolutely necessary. So I've decided to doodle his side profile with his strand of hair that it was surprisingly well drawn as a sketch without an ereaser or pencil to shade in. All I had was a ballpoint pen that slowly began to leave smudges on my wrist. I held it up at the next red light for him to look at. It also has a text underneath that sketch pointing at the strand of hair. 'Fix it, please. It doesn't make you look proportionate for artists to look at.'

Mingi was one of two that you didn't get to interact with often (Jongho the other with his numerous assassination requests), busy overseeing the suppliers and various dock locations Ateez used for their operations. What little you did see of him was much like the gossip whispered around in the common dining area; a man of few words and intimidating stature.

He spared but a single glance at the sketch in your hand, raising a brow at the request scribbled beside it. You were drawing his side profile? The boredom must have severely eating away at you, in that case, but he decided to relent. Tucking the strand of hair behind his hair as best he could, he simply indicated with his eyes for you to go on with what you were preocuppied with as the headlight turned green once again.

The location of the meeting was an unassuming place, as many of them were; a pierside restaurant that served the local cuisine. The suppliers themselves were already there, sitting on the porch, various cigars and cigarettes in hand.

"Seo pharmacuticals are a high-end supplier. Say anything to fuck this up and the fishermen will be trawling up your remains."

[laurensjapanadventure]

June 8- Studio Ghibli Museum

Today we went to the Ghibli Museum, and it was truly magical. The path there felt straight from a movie, adorned with lush greenery and parks along the way. I couldn’t get photos in the museum since they don’t allow photography, but I got photos in the outside areas. There were three exhibits, one that was dedicated to Miyazaki’s artistic process, another dedicated to Future Boy Conan, and a final one dedicated to the animation process. The artistic process exhibit was stunning with an amalgamation of Miyazaki’s artistic genius. There was a hodgepodge of airplane models, character sketches and books that brought the room to life. (picture attached is from internet since I couldn’t take one). I was able to thumb through the books of animation stills that he created as I recognized each fan. It was so great to be able to see the inspiration behind my favorite movies. I could pinpoint each film and the museum did a great job capturing each film individually while just having his vibe in general. The biggest praise I can give is that the entire museum felt truly “Ghibli” even if it wasn’t referencing any film in particular, as it was surrounded by nature. The Future Boy Conan exhibit gave me insight on a 26 episode series that I wasn’t aware Miyazaki directed. When I was using phone to translate, a nice employee kindly gave me a packet with translations of the exhibit. It explained each episode in depth. It was really hard to understand the convoluted plot, but I could see so many characteristics of Miyazaki’s work and got the general vibe. The animation they showed was so expressive and characteristic of him. The final exhibit was my favorite, with moving pictures and figure sets to capture the process of animation. There was a figure carousel of characters from My Neighbor Totoro which seemed like the figures were really moving due to the flickering of the lights. Old fashion film reels were visible and allowed us to watch a cool animation about evolution. Outside the exhibits, was also a room with a miniature cat bus for kids to crawl in, a store with exclusive museum goodies, a theater and a cafe. The theater screened Mei and the Kittenbus which was the most adorable thing I have ever seen. It was about Mei, from My Neighbor Totoro, being visited by a kitten version of the Catbus. She rides the bus that night and meets other forms of cat-based transportation including a cat-airplane! She shares her caramel candies with the cats and it’s adorable. She also reunited with Totoro in a scene that made my entire body fuzzy and warm. I genuinely could not stop smiling for the entire 15 minute short. I ate at the cafe and got a small strawberry snack since there weren’t many vegetarian options. The cafe was themed after Howl’s Moving Castle which was nice since it’s my favorite movie and there wasn’t much content for it. Once we finished, we wanted to go to the Shiro Hige cream puff factory. It were told by other members that they ran out of Totoro creampuffs. Finally, Ana, Bianca and I met up with Jordan at the Cinnamoroll cafe. Cinnamoroll is my favorite character so I’ve been excited for months. Unfortunately, there were out of every food item except the curry and they also didn’t have the cake. I had a sundae which was okay and a grapefruit soda that wasn’t great. Overall it was an amazing day filled with cuteness and fun.

[samspenandsword]

1. Idk how I missed your follow celebration but i hope not too late!! It’s the 29th where I am! First of all congratulations on the follow count! Second can I please request a ship request and a bestie request? I’m bisexual so either gender is fine! Here we go:

2. I go by she/her and am 20 so I don’t mind some nsfw!

3. Appearance:

As for looks, I’m 5’1, average build, tanned olive type skin, dark brown eyes, full lips, dark brown shoulder length wavy/kinda curly hair with curtain bangs. I also wear glasses with a slight cat eye to them.

4. Personality:

For personality I’m creative, introverted, and individualistic. Though I’m introverted, around my friends I can be quite talkative, humorous and outgoing. However I definitely treasure my alone time the most.

5. Hobbies/Interests:

As for hobbies escaping to new worlds while reading books/comics, watching movies, and playing rpg video games. My favorite genres are fantasy and sci-fi, though I do love a good classic from time to time. Apart from that, I love working out.

My interests on the other hand are art focused. I’m currently in art school working with both digital and traditional mediums. I love my practice and everything from interaction design and digital illustration to graphite drawings and inking.

6. Likes/dislikes:

Likes: coffee, chai tea, dark chocolate, rock/blues/jazz/ music, cafe art shows, arcades, comic book stores, purple, thai/Indian/Chinese food, roller blading to classic rock with the wind in my hair, quality alone time

Dislikes: people i am unfamiliar with and have to make small talk with, the biting cold, rain, non fiction, staying too close to reality and not being allowed to daydream/imagine/roam freely in my thoughts, physical touch, overly crowded areas

Random stuff

My favorite planet is Dathomir. Don’t ask why but I love the aesthetic and the witchy spookiness. Also maul and ventress yes pls. Idk if I’d want to live there but the vibes are immaculate.

If I had to live on a planet tho it’d prolly be Naboo, Alderaan or coruscant (pre empire ofc)

Thank you and congrats once again!

Hey there!! You're absolutely fine, your request was before the deadline (I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this out I'm such a flake oml lol). Thank you so much for participating, and I hope the week has been treating you well so far!

Sam's Pen and Sword Follower Celebration (Closed)

Danzalladagger's Follower Celebration Request

Ship request 👄

Okay, okay, okay, okay, listen. The sequel trilogy I know is pretty polarizing, especially here on Tumblr (I don't write for them most of the time), but you and Rey would be so CUTE!!! She sees your art and she literally had no idea that something could be so beautiful. You get a bit bashful because it's just a rough sketch and the dimensions are all off and tbh it was really just a warmup but Rey falls in love with it and it warms your heart so much you give it to her. She scrimps and saves money to get it properly matted and framed and she just adores it. Also, pls get this girl some healthy emotional relationships she would just flourish on Naboo. The water!! The greenery!! It's warm enough for you both but it's not a desert! HUGE plus. The war ends and Rey just wants to come home with you, to a peaceful place where she doesn't feel weighed down by her past and her powers and her responsibility. She wants a place where her friends came come and go and enjoy being there. She loves that her friends can become your friends. But the both of you also get overwhelmed with too much social interaction, and quiet nights in together, ones where Rey sits and tinkers with some mechanical bits and bobs. Ones where you've ordered takeout and you're sitting working on a new piece of art or reading Space-Dracula with Space-Ella Fitzgerald playing quietly in the background. Peaceful nights. A peaceful life. It's everything Rey didn't realize she wanted until you came along.

"It wasn't that bad." You were a bit pale in the face. For all your interests and talents, a pilot you were not. Your beautiful, powerful, pure partner, however, was a pilot of extreme skill. But every time she flew it was like she was in battle, and the ride had gotten a bit rocky there. You'd think you'd be used to it by now. "Rey, my love, you fly like Poe was on your ass." "Poe could only hope to keep up with me." You giggled a little. Poe was also a fantastic pilot, and he and Rey had had a few "friendly" competitions to see which one was better. And every single time, they asked you and Finn to judge. And every single time, you and Finn stayed the fuck out of it and were happy to let your partners be competitive little flyboys. You and Finn were quite happy to gallivant off towards a coffee shop with pastries and laugh at their antics. "Good thing he's not here to hear that," you said. "He'd be squaring up right now." "Again, he could only hope to keep up with me." You laughed again, with a fond little roll of your eyes, and reached up to kiss her cheek. "Come on, Reybird, home's awaiting." Rey smiled, that beautiful, radiant smile of hers. The one that made your cheeks warm and stomach flutter. The one that had stolen your heart. The one that you did not want to go a single day without seeing. And it felt like you were already home.

Bestie request 😎

I came this 🤏 close to putting Sabine Wren down as your ship request, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought you two would be better suited as besties. (Also I hope you're okay with me putting down a Rebels character 😊). You two would bond so easily over art. Sabine is also well-known for her individuality, creativity, independence, and introversion. Sure, she loves being with her friends and family, but sometimes Sabine just needs some goddamn alone time. And you just have to do, "same lol." I think Sabine and you would also love meeting up at your favorite (space) Thai joints cause you two can handle spice and no one else on the Ghost Crew can lol. You and Sabine would also love working out together, giving each other shit for being out of shape lol, griping and being dramatic about how tired you are.

You could hear the gentle hiss of Sabine's paint gun somewhere around the corner from you. You wondered if she was leaving behind her trademark starbird or if she was leaving something a little more detailed. The longer the paint gun went, you knew she was painting something a bit bigger than her signature symbol. Your own piece was coming along nicely. A smirk curled at your lips as the details and colors came together, a mural of pure beauty materializing and giving the drab slate durasteel wall a bit more character. Your didn't use a paint gun yourself, only for linework. You preferred a classic brush to blend and apply the colors of your work. Even if it took a bit longer. You weren't worried. You and Sabine had yet to be caught. A few more flicks of your brush brought the piece together. And with a quick arc of some black paint with your gun, the piece was done. "Nice." Sabine had finished her own work and was now sniggering at your mural. You smirked over your shoulder at her. Your mural was a wonderful rendition of one Grand Admiral Thrawn being strangled by that chimaera he seemed so fond of. You were quite proud of it. "Thanks." You slapped up a stencil and sprayed with your gun, leaving your own symbol to sign your work. "What's yours?" Sabine's was as comical and poignant as your own. It featured a figure cloaked in black, a figure you recognized as The Emperor, with a lightsaber through his ass. You sighed a little dramatically. Oh, if only. "Come on, I've still got some ideas to get out that will get me grounded if Kanan or Hera sees." Sabine flourished her paint gun. You barked a laugh. "Then I want to see it!" Sabine grinned, and as the two of you darted through the city to find your next displays, you left behind nothing but fresh paint and the knowledge that rebels had been there. Rebels were everywhere.

[violettelueur]

— RYOMEN SUKUNA || LET ME MARK YOU THEN

↳ featuring : ryomen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of sex, mention of hickeys and grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 22 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.7k

↳ synopsis : (modern!AU) after your lectures, you decided to pay your tattoo artist boyfriend a little visit only to then be persuaded to let him draw a tattoo design on you even though you never actually wanted a real one to be marked with.

↳ barista’s notes : just a little gift to you all before today’s episode and the reset the ‘coffees in progress’ list (wip) when i get enough sleep and after my disgusting online classes, i hope you enjoy the free cup of coffee everyone ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ - also i feel like this is the longest imagine i have ever posted ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ

Having a morning full of tedious lectures was not someone’s ideal day and it was definitely not yours. Although, there was nothing you could do but pursue them through with as much enthusiasm and determination that you could possibly muster while being impatient about the hands on the clock taking forever to move a single inch.

However, at this moment in time, you were able to escape the suffocating lecture hall after many hours for today and was now walking down the busy streets of Tokyo with a white plastic takeaway bag in one hand while the other was occupied with your tote bag that was resting on your shoulder, which surprisingly kept hold of some of your textbooks as well as your laptop giving you some reassurance that the bag that your boyfriend gave you was going to last for quite some time.

Looking around the busy quarter of the capital, you began to notice a few high school students roaming about here and there with some hanging out with their friends - mostly likely going to a cafe or to the nearest karaoke lounge that they could find - while other were either rushing home as they entered the station or to their part-time jobs that they had managed to obtain for a few extra bucks to save up for their next step in life. Noticeably, there were also a few adults out and about with some working as street-food vendors selling delicious treats that you would be craving if you weren’t so full while others were dressed extremely professional with their laptops out on their cafe/restaurant table to what seemed like they were on their lunch break.

‘He should be on his lunch break right now, but if not, I’ll just put his food in the shop’s fridge’

Continue walking to your destination, you finally reached to a quieter area with the city leading you to then stand in front of a glass order with a ‘closed’ sign in front along with another extremely noticeable sign proudly stating ‘Malevolent Shine’ to which if you had said that to any tattoo fanatic within Japan, they would instantly know what you were talking about.

Opening the door, there was a sudden noise of a ring being heard leading you to immediately look up to see the silver bell that you told him to arrange since he always got annoyed about the number of potential clients popping up without his acknowledgement only to tell him that they didn’t book an appointment at all causing him to become more irritated - and as a matter of fact, you couldn’t blame him at all.

Looking around the tattoo shop that you had entered, there wasn’t a single person in sight leading you to come to the conclusion that you were right about his lunch break since his assistant would be at the front desk if they weren’t. Although there was no one to greet you, the dark atmosphere did. It gave an odd sense of comfort with its hints of red that could calm a customer down if they were worried about the tattoo they were committing to having on their body or if it was their first - especially when it came to him.

“Oya~ ain’t you a sexy customer? But I’m afraid we’re closed, but I don’t mind giving you a private session if you want, kitten” someone smoothly stated, leading your eyes to slowly shift to the person who was leaning against the desk with a confident smirk on his face. There he was, the mastermind behind the whole shop itself.

“Well, I’m not coming in for a tattoo but I am here to give a little gift, Sukuna,” you mischievously stated, as you lifted the white bag with the takeaway you had ordered for the man himself, leading him to look at you in surprised before tilting his head indicating you to come to the back with him.

Following his lead, you placed the bag on his table once you reached the backroom before placing your tote on the floor beside the table’s leg so it didn’t fall, letting any of your precious studious contents to be lost as well as avoiding any damage to your laptop.

“I’m surprised you’re using the bag, kitten,” Sukuna suddenly commented, as he sat on his chair while pulling out the white styrofoam box of Thai food that he always ordered along with a bento box that was wrapped in a black cloth.

“Well, how could I not? You did buy it for me,” you quietly mentioned as you took off your black longline coat before placing it behind your chair since there was nowhere else to put it.

“Did you make this?” Sukuna quickly questioned as he lifted the bento box causing you to nod at his question once you saw what he meant leading you to state, “I didn’t know if you were going to stay back tonight, so I prepared some food for you in case,” causing Sukuna to smirk since you were right about your assumption and it did catch him by surprise since he didn’t mention it to you today when he left your shared apartment.

“Thanks,” he quietly muttered before pulling his chair closer towards you so he could place a lingering kiss on your cheek to show his appreciation towards you. “How was class?” he then asked, as he began to unwrap the cloth of the box to your surprise since you bought his favourite item from the Thai restaurant but made no mention of it.

“Annoying, it was suffocating in there but the lecture was interesting so that’s a plus,” you answered, as you began to scan his messy desk that displayed the many drawings that he was working on. Some of the designs that Sukuna was drawing were almost complete, while others were in the same situation but for some odd reason, it was crossed out as if he was unsatisfied with the outcome that it was going to have which lead you to be perplexed since some of the drawings were incredibly detailed and beautiful. However, you didn’t have the eyes of an artist like your boyfriend did, instead, you had the eyes of someone that was able to analyse things exceedingly well hence why you decided to pursue a career as a criminal lawyer.

“How has the shop been while I was away?” you asked, as you carefully picked up one of the designs that the tattoo artist seemed to have scraped leading him to answer with an annoyed huff. “A pain, there’s been so many dumbass people coming in thinking they could just walk in and get a tattoo done immediately without even booking a meeting,” Sukuna answered before taking a bite of the soy-glazed fried chicken you made as he then continued with, “it was a good idea to get the bell since I could see if it was a customer I knew or not,”.

Looking at your boyfriend, you couldn’t help but smile at the man as he continuously munched the context in the box as if he hadn’t eaten in the past week when in reality he had been raiding the fridge back home only just this morning. Slowly, you turn your head back to the paper that you were holding as you continued to admire the work of art right in front of you. 

To be honest, it was quite simple compared to all the other ones that were lying about on his work desk but that didn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful. The light sketch depicted a short section of a branch or stem decorated with different types of beautiful flowers and next to it was the same design with the only difference of it being coloured lightly in case the client wanted to have options.

“What happened here?” you asked before tilting the paper to the side, letting Sukuna have a glance at the design he decided to discard.

“Oh, the client cancelled since I wouldn’t have sex with her,” Sukuna casually stated leading you to nod before taking another look at the design with a small smile on your face. Sadly, it was such a waste since the design was beautiful and it was disappointing to not see Sukuna put this beautiful art into life.

Some people might wonder why you were so calm about the statement he had just given you, heck even his younger twin brother Itadori Yuji thought it was weird that it didn’t bother you as much as other girls would have been. The reason was that you were so used to him having female attention as well as male attention and it wasn’t a surprise when people would book an appointment with him just for a fling or hoping for something more than just that - and even though you were calm, there was also a hint of jealousy and fear within your heart that you couldn’t help.

It was like the first time you saw him in your second year of high school.

                                               ꕥ 

Stretching your arms, you had finally finished the last sheet of the budgets for the school clubs leading you to carefully clip the pile of sheets into the folder as you then stood up from your desk before quickly heading out of your homeroom, so you could give the documents to the student council president, who was a third-year within your school.

However, as you were walking past a few classrooms with some people greeting you with a smile, you came to a sudden halt when you saw a whole crowd of female and males students in front of you leading to a blockage of the halls and a blockage of the classroom you need to go through to hand the documents to your senior.

“Did you hear, I heard he was back?!”

“I can’t believe he’s back, I missed him so much!”

“I like Yuji’s kind and goofy personality, but how could you not love a bad boy like him?”

‘Bad boy?’

Carefully, you managed to find a gap between the sea of students and forcibly made yourself fit within the gap before badly struggling to make it through the arc of the classroom door leading you to nearly trip the second you got the chance to push through the gap to ender the class. Quickly looking around, you found your senior sitting next to someone who looked like your friend and basketball club member Itadori Yuji - well more like a mature replicant of the boy you were used to. However, unbothered by the sudden appearance of the new third-year, you speedily made your way to the council president and handed him the booklet that he needed today leading you to receive his gratitude.

Yet, before you could even take a single step away from your senior, you unexpectedly felt someone grab your wrist causing you to quickly turn around to find Itadori’s replica behind you leading to a few gasps coming from the students from the outside as well as in the homeroom.

“Is there an issue?” you firmly asked, as you looked down at his hand that had a tight grip on your wrist causing you to have a small glance at the two black bands that were tattooed around his wrist - even though it was prohibited to have any in your school, you weren’t the type to scold someone for having them since you weren’t sure on how the teacher’s thought it affected someone’s education.

“Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?” the salmon-haired third-year curiously asked, as he began to admire your wrist by gently turning it for your veins to come into view before beginning to trace your skin with the tip of his thumb causing a light shiver to go down your spine due to the ticklish feeling as well as his deep voice which was the complete opposite to what you thought it was going to be.

‘So this is the infamous Sukuna everyone was talking about’

“Not really,” you answered as you looked at him causing his eyes to look back at you before you continued with “I don’t think it would suit me at all,”.

“I disagree,” Sukuna counteracted, as he went back to admire the blank canvas of your wrist that he wanted to draw on so badly. No not draw. Mark. “I think you’ll suit something, maybe something on your neck or collarbone at best actually,” Sukuna mentioned leading you to give him a confused expression before he then proceeded with his speech by saying, “I’ll convince you one day and mark you brat”,

‘What...did….he….just….call….me..?’

“Ah...good luck with that idiot,” you stated in an annoyed tone leading to a few of the admiring student to gasp at your wording as well as sudden confident as they were scared on what was going to happen to you now since Sukuna wasn’t the type to tolerate insults in a nice way no matter what gender you were. However, exceeding the audience’s assumptions, Sukuna began to smirk excitedly at your attitude as he suddenly found you more interesting than any other girl he has met at the back of the school.

“Be prepared, little kitten”

                                               ꕥ

‘That nickname….’

Back then Sukuna was known to be a playboy from what you could recall, every week there was news on the new girl he had managed to convince to meet at the back alley of the school while you were just being a model student with the dream of going to law school. However, during the middle of the school year, you began to realise that the common scandalous news that seemed to be popular enough for it to be on the front cover of the newspaper began to gradually fade as Sukuna slowly pushed himself into your life since you were close with his twin brother due to your friend being part of the basketball team as the assistant coach - she even mentioned that ever since Sukuna came into your life he had stopped his acts and change slightly because of you to which, of course, you denied at the time.

It was during the first term of your third-year that you agreed to give Sukuna a chance since he was constantly annoying you by popping up at the school gate after school to ‘walk you home’ ever since his graduation - when in reality it was to take you out somewhere - without fail even when you had to stay in a few hours. However, you had given him three conditions since you were still conscious of the consequences of dating someone with such a disgraceful built reputation - much to his dismay, he shockingly agreed.

If you are going to have a fling with someone behind my back, don’t think about seeing or talking to me again.

I know you are sexually active, but you have to wait until I’m ready.

Don’t tattoo me.

Let’s just say that Sukuna had managed to keep condition number one in check and you didn’t have to worry about it at all, while with condition number two he didn’t have to wait that long for you to give in to your desires which you could tell he certainly enjoyed when you finally gave him the ‘okay’.

Number three though...

“Do you want to try that design out?”

Breaking from your daze, you quickly turned your head to find your boyfriend staring at you - with the bento box practically empty at this point - while tilting his head to the paper that was still within your grasp.

“I think you giving me hickeys are enough in my opinion, babe” you jokingly mentioned leading to both you and Sukuna laughing at each other slightly.

“I mean, do you want me to draw it on you to see how it looks?” he then asked, causing you to look at the floral design one last time before giving him a hesitant nod.

‘Trying it out won’t hurt right?’

“I need a confident answer little kitten, where did that feisty attitude of yours back in high school go?” Sukuna teased, causing you to give him the side glance before giving him the verbal permission that he wanted, leading him to smirk at you since knew his mockery would get you to give him what he wanted since you were also the stubborn type - a side that he always loved to play with.

Grabbing his pen and a black pot full of his thin-tipped coloured skin markers, he wheels his chair even closer to your before pausing, leading you to look at him in confusion since you had already pulled your wrist in front of him, the same area he had grabbed back in high school.

“You’re wearing a lot of clothing today,” Sukuna muttered as he began to fiddle with the collar of your white silk dress shirt causing you to look at him with extreme confusion before mentioning, “well it is getting colder since the Autumn season is coming around,” leading him to hum in an understanding tone as he continued to play with the smooth fabric.

“I want to draw on your collarbone area, I don’t want to draw on the area where the client wanted it to be,” Sukuna stated as he lightly pushed away your wrist leading you to realise why he paused. “You can,” you quickly mentioned leading the tattoo artist to look at you to see if you were lying, only to see nothing but the light of the trust within your eyes.

Slowly, Sukuna began to reach over to the top button to then unhook it from its loop before continuously doing the same with the others until enough skin of your shoulders were exposed with the top half of your shirt resting on the side of your arms to which then he slowly moved away the right-hand side of your bra strap to fully expose the canvas that he wanted to mark so eagerly.

Admiring the skin that was in front of him, Sukuna began to trace the area with his thumb before leaning in to place a chaste kiss on the same side of your neck before cradling your face on the other side with his other hand - as if it was a way for him to say ‘thank you’ for letting him do this.

Regrettably pulling away, Sukuna quickly grabbed his black pen as he then leaned in towards your collarbone to start drawing the outline of his design on his now favourite canvas causing you to shiver somehow due to how ticklish and weird the sensation felt when the ballpoint pen continuously gently gilded upon your skin. However, what got you shaking the most was the constant feeling of your boyfriend’s breath being felt on your upper body now that your shirt was basically off - it wasn’t completely off to the same feeling when you were underneath him the first time you allowed him to make his claim on you.

“Baby, it feels ticklish,” you commented, the second you felt a different sensation upon your skin leading Sukuna to glance up to check if you were alright like you were an actual client before placing another kiss on your jawline in a way to comfort you since he had switched to his skin markers to colour in the design he had drawn on you.

“You’re being a good kitten though, you’re not moving a lot then I thought you would,” the tattoo artist whispered leading you to quiver as his deep voice was not helping so much with your beating heart - erratic to the point where you thought he could hear or even feel.

Due to Sukuna concentrating, you couldn’t help but keep silent to help him continue with his work causing you to glance around your room with your eyes before landing upon a wall where there was a multitude of messages written leading you to carefully scan the writings that were visibly presenting themselves.

As expected, there were messages of encouragement - not that the arrogant Sukuna needed it to be honest, but it was nice of the client to do so - and a few drawings from other tattoo artists that Sukuna had famously done. However, not to your surprise, there were a few numbers here and there causing you to sigh since you couldn’t help it - you couldn’t blame your boyfriend for being an extremely handsome man.

Unexpectedly, you felt another kiss being placed upon your cheek causing you to look towards your boyfriend with a smile on your face - it was as if he knew what you were looking at. “I’m finished by the way,” Sukuna announced, causing you to look at him with widened eyes since the drawing session was a little faster than you had anticipated.

Reaching over to a drawer in his desk, Sukuna suddenly pulled out a mirror before passing it to you, leading you to lift up the little instrument to see the result that was drawn on your skin.

“You changed the design,” you quietly stated, as you began to tenderly trace the design with your index finger as you began to admire the piece of art that was masterfully drawn on your collar bone. The tattoo beautifully depicted a single strand of a blooming lavender across your collarbone with each petal in different shades of purple while the buds that weren’t in bloom were in a slight pale pink shade making you smile more since Sukuna drew this straight from his head causing you to have a hint of proudness for him.

“I wasn’t going to give you that previous design, it doesn’t suit you one bit,” the salmon-haired artist mentioned as he continued with, “I’m not going to let that disgusting design touch your skin, especially since this is the first time you let me mark you somewhat,” as he then moved behind you before placing his chin on your shoulder to look at you through the mirror you were holding.

“I might let you mark me permanently then,” you suddenly announced causing your boyfriend to look at you with a surprised look on his face leading you to giggle at his reaction.

“Yeah, let’s break condition three then, you can mark me this one time,” you informed him as you turned to look at him, causing Sukuna to give you his classic smirk before possessively grabbing your chin leading him to lean closer to you.

“Let me mark you then”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[architectuul]

An Attempted Utopia

The city of Shumen in Bulgaria is home to the country’s largest monument to the Founders of the Bulgarian State. An enormous, cathedral-like complex on the plateau above Shumen tells the story of the early Bulgarian rulers through a series of larger-than-life modernist sculptures. 

Shumen Central City Square (1988-1989), unfinished. Created by Ivan Sivrev, Elena Konyarska, Maya Petrova, and Tsvetan Vasilev; chief consultant architect Georgi Stoilov. | Photo © Darmon Richter

But while many other memorials built during the communist period have been doomed now to decay and obsolescence owing to their political symbolism – branded as they often are with hammers, sickles and stars – the Shumen monument, by focussing purely on the ancient past, has managed to remain relevant to, and loved by, its inheritors. Today this symbol of Bulgarian nationhood is better preserved than probably any other monument built during the 45 years of Bulgarian communism so many foreign visitors come to Shumen to marvel at it. 

An upwards view, from deep within the abandoned construction site of the Central City Square concrete tower.  | Photo © Darmon Richter

A vast concrete tower looms over Shumen’s city centre: phallic, foreboding, and visible from all ends of the city. Standing 18 storeys high, the tower rises from a construction site six storeys tall and spreading out to fill an entire city block. The Central City Square, a gargantuan experiment in urban design was intended to be revolutionary, incorporating shops, hotel, post office, cafes, restaurants, hall for weddings and rituals as well as municipal administrative offices but has never been finished. 

Glimpsing the full scale of vast Central City Square. | Photo © Darmon Richter

When the Bulgarian Communist Party relinquished its single-party system at the end of 1989 the country slid into a chaotic and economically unstable democracy and many former state projects has been left incomplete. All over Bulgaria are the shells of abandoned construction projects, orphans of a dissolved government but nowhere any come close to the size of Shumen’s Central City Square. The tower, its most visible element, stood between two unfinished blocks which rise behind a security fence established right along the city’s central pedestrian area on Liberation Square. Only by peering over that fence, does one realise that the tower and both blocks are all the same building, joined through lower levels, dug into the hillside, with road access to the site from a street behind. The lower levels of Central City Square extend beneath the street, emerging behind you as tunnel entrances that look like metro stations. Hotel Madara, overlooking the square, was supposed to be connected with underground tunnels that would grant guests easy access to the complex.

Cross sections of Shumen Central City Square. | Drawing via Promisljena estetika (1988) Vol. 1

The street was redeveloped in tangent with the Central City Square project, around the pedestrianised area are motifs thematically connecting it to both the new complex and the monument on the hill above. For instance, the tallest column of the Monument to the Founders of the Bulgarian State is topped with a stylised black granite lion, based on a 7th century carving, a design that is echoed in the streets below, with sculpted bronze lion heads set like sentries along a sheer concrete wall. Opposite the lions, the outer wall of the new complex nods to a culture that predates even the first Bulgarians, Hermes the messenger appears in sculpted relief on the face of what would have been the new post office.

A modernist relief at the subterranean entrance. | Photo © Darmon Richter

This redesign of Shumen city centre was a world apart from the monumental design of previous decades. Nearby, the 1949 Monument to the Red Army on Slavyanski Boulevard was pure, unadulterated socialist-realism; even the 1965 Monument to Freedom leant heavily into safe political territory with its hero figure and engraved hammer-and-sickle motif. 

Western block rises behind an advertising fence.| Photo © Darmon Richter

However, the complex at the heart of this city project was bolder still. Intended to revolutionise Shumen’s urban landscape in ways that would have made this city notable not just by Bulgarian standards, but potentially one of the more advanced urban centres anywhere in the socialist world.

In an interview with Ivan Sivrev appeared in Industrial Aesthetics, Decorative Arts (1988), a monthly magazine published by the Bulgarian State Committee for Science and Technical Progress, the architect described the project as a forum for this 100,000-person city. “Central City Square has been designed as a living organism,” said Sivrev, “the elements of which are interconnected and interdependent just like, figuratively speaking, the organs of a living creature. We intend for Shumen’s centre to materialise as a synthesis between aesthetic, artistic, social, engineering, ecological and other requirements, instilling the rich historical past of Bulgaria into a modern development.”

Ivan Sivrev (right) stands beside a model of Central City Square in 1988.

Sivrev lists the various facilities to be included in the complex “the ‘Man’s Industry’ Fashion House, ‘Pancho Vladigerov’ Festival Complex, the existing Hotel Madara, and on the first underground level, the House of Rituals and Services.” The Festival Complex alone was to feature “concert halls, a club house, recital halls, music rooms, a record shop and musical instrument outlets”, meanwhile, “the House of Rituals and Services consists of three ceremonial halls, a family centre and council offices where various administrative, legislative and technical services shall be provided. There shall be a conference hall with 400 seats and a club restaurant for the administrative workers.”

Preliminary (up left) and final (up right) building plan with silhouettes and cross sections (below). | Drawing via Promisljena estetika (1988) Vol. 1

Other outlets inside the building included tobacconists, pharmaceuticals, a panorama café, coffee shops, a luxury restaurant and nightclub for 250 guests. One particular theme that emerges from the interview is Sivrev’s commitment to environmental issues. The building was designed from the ground up with the goal of combatting congestion and pollution in the city; considerations which had been lacking from many of the Party’s previous large-scale constructions. The Shumen project was to feature open green spaces, rooftop gardens and planted terraces. It was planned with the intention of increasing the size of community green areas. Cascading water would provide a pleasantly refreshing spray in hot summers, while a unified public transport hub would free the neighbouring streets from traffic congestion.

A towering concrete skeleton of the complex today. | Photo © Darmon Richter

This effect would be achieved by moving some of the city’s essential functions underground. “The construction of underground levels is a social necessity” states Sivrev as “underground levels bring mass transportation stops immediately next to the city square without creating a conflict between pedestrians and motor vehicles. They improve usage of public transportation significantly and reduce noise pollution and car emissions.”

The first underground level was planned for public transport stations, flower shops, souvenir and jewellery shops, homewares, perfumes, a national lottery kiosk and ticket offices for Balkan airline, BDZ rail company, Avtotransport coach company. The second underground level was intended to feature a car park for 200 vehicles under the square and a space for 250 vehicles next to Georgi Dimitrov Boulevard. Below that, the third underground level would provide a united storage area for servicing all buildings in the square.

Silhouettes and cross sections along the main core axes of the central structure.  | Drawing via Promisljena estetika (1988) Vol. 1

The project as a whole reflected new ways of thinking about urban space. There are parallels between Ivan Sivrev’s design and the Radiant City proposed by Le Corbusier in 1930, when he exhibited his design for the perfected future metropolis - a linear city formed of standardised blocks, with underground transit routes reducing the surface traffic to allow for an abundance of green spaces. Each block would take the form of a self-contained vertical village containing shops, laundries, even kindergartens. The architect likened his vision to a living organism, composed of interconnected organs working together in harmony.

Le Corbusier’s proposed extent of the Radiant City. | Photo via Stadtstreicher

“I believe we managed to achieve conceptual synergy between urbanisation and architectural-artistic concepts. The development and its attributed buildings create the necessary conditions and allow for creating a unified architectural organism in which all levels and structures are both spatially and functionally connected. This is the very first such development in Bulgaria and it applies the most advanced principles of underground urbanism” is certain Sivrev. His design sketches show that the plan for Shumen Central City Square would have seen it grow considerably larger than what’s visible today. Much like Le Corbusier’s Radiant City the project would remain unrealised and today, those who venture inside will find not utopia, but a sprawling warren of abandoned spaces and twisting concrete corridors.

Unfinished spaces on the easternmost block. | Photo © Darmon Richter

Plants have taken root in some of the airier regions of the complex. | Photo © Darmon Richter

Bulgaria’s communist leader Todor Zhivkov was kicked out by his own party in 1989 in response to a number of growing criticisms throughout the final years of his regime. The rise of nationalism had been a major factor, culminating in Zhivkov’s attempted ethnic cleansing of Turkish and Roma minorities, beside that there had also been serious environmental concerns. Zhivkov had continued his predecessors’ urbanisation schemes, with large-scale industrialisation as cities were rapidly expanded to accommodate new work forces. The state had done little, however, to offset the effect this was having on the environment. By 1989, The Ledger reported that 85% of Bulgaria’s river water and 70% of its farmland had been damaged by industrial wastes and pollutants.

The Danube city of Ruse had it worst of all, when a chemical plant was built across the river at Giurgiu in Romania, it began to exhale toxic gases towards Bulgaria. Soil around the Ruse area was shown to contain concentrations of mineral acid at 40 times over the safe limit. A cloud of chemical gas descended on a Ruse meeting of the Young Pioneer organisation in September 1987, and children as young as seven were seen choking, running for cover with their red neckerchiefs clutched over their mouths. Zhivkov refused to act, however, unwilling to upset his fraternal relationship with the Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu. The Committee for the Ecological Protection of Ruse was founded, and they began protesting Zhivkov’s lack of solutions. Initially these demonstrations were crushed, Zhivkov allegedly ordered the beating of a group of environmental activists outside an OSCE summit in October 1989, but national dissatisfaction grew. Organised, nationwide protest gave birth to the Ecological Openness movement: a forerunner to the contemporary Bulgarian Green Party.

As Detlef Pollack and Jan Wielgohs note in Dissent and Opposition in Communist Eastern Europe, “On November 3 1989, Ecoglasnost (Ecological Openness) delivered the crucial blow to the Communist political system. At least 10,000 people came and marched to parliament, carrying posters and chanting the word democracy. It was a crucial breakthrough. Just a week following the Ecoglasnost march, Zhivkov was sacked.”

Bare concrete facades on the north side. | Photo © Darmon Richter

Shumen from the rooftops. | Photo © Darmon Richter

Perhaps Shumen’s Central City Square, a Corbusian city of the future, designed for a new ecologically responsible mode for urban living, had been a belated response to the problems. Perhaps it was intended as a trial, as the first of a new wave of ecologically-friendly urban redevelopments, but even if that were the case it was too little, too late.

Even by 1988, the project had reportedly been fraught with difficulties and by disagreements amongst its creative team. Sivrev explained these as “the inability to comprehend the unity and yet simultaneously multi-faceted nature of the development.” One engineer had baulked at the prospect of building the tower and ran away from the project. “Atypical solutions require atypical thinking” Sivrev concluded.

The unfinished tower. | Photo © Darmon Richter

But the final blow came in 1989 when the communist state was dissolved and Shumen’s Central City Square, like so many other unfinished constructions in Bulgaria, had its funding cut off. In place of a unified architectural organism the people of Shumen would be left instead to deal with a colossal, crumbling skeleton.

--

by Darmon Richter [Adapted with permission from Ex Utopia]

[simprisottowriter]

I absolutely adored your head cannons for Giorno and Bruno! I’d love to see some similar ones for either Jotaro or Josuke 💜

     I'd be delighted to write for both of them, rainfoxx! Both Jotaro and Josuke are wonderful choices! I have a soft spot for them! As always, hope you like these headcanons!

°Fluff Headcanons°

◇ Having built his career, his work takes a big part of his day. So even when he is in his office, finishing papers for hours, he always leaves Star Platinum to roam around the house, mostly being by your side. Star Platinum expresses every emotion that Jotaro doesn’t. It is so obvious that the stand is delighted to be with you! Being intrigued by every small task you do around the house, it is always very willing and excited to give you a hand. Even if Star accidentally ends up making a mess.

◇ Star Platinum loves learning new things, and treasures every time you read him a book. Though, whenever you leave the stand from your sight, it might end up bringing random things from outside. If you end up with someone else's drink or with a new kitten, it’s not your fault. Caring for Star Platinum is like babysitting an energetic and happy child.

◇ Jotaro loves staying at home. Crowds overwhelm him. Near you, he feels different than he does with other people. To him, you feel home. ♡

◇ He treasures the moments full of silence that you spend together. Sometimes, he likes not having anything to talk about. Just doing his thing and being near you is fine for him. Silence for him isn’t awkward. It’s a way of showing that he feels comfortable enough with you to be himself.

◇ The first time you met him, in a project regarding marine wildlife, you probably felt his overwhelmingly cold and intimidating attitude that everyone was telling you about. No matter what others were gossiping about Jotaro’s behavior, you wanted to learn more about him. Thus, you were the one who invited Jotaro to your group. Though, you were worried if he didn’t like your presence, since it was difficult to understand what he was feeling. Your worries disappeared as you listened to him answer so eagerly and softly to your every question about sea life. It was strange but comforting to see him with a much softer expression than before.

◇ Thing is, that he feels intimidating to others that cannot read him and understand him as well as you do. Jotaro is truly a thoughtful sweetheart, and once he loves someone he'll do everything he can to ensure they are safe. Even if he shows it a bit harshly and in an overprotective way, he truly cares. He even makes Star Platinum act as your personal guard.

◇ His ideal date would probably be a calm walk by the sea or a short stroll around town. Ideally, he’d like living in a small seaside town, away from the crowded areas of the city. Wouldn’t mind visiting the aquarium. Though, the exotic sea-life isn’t something that impresses him. He has already seen these rare species through his work and in numerous books. Steals soft glances at you, while you look at all the colorful fish that gather at your finger, while tapping on the glass. You can basically see him blushing through his hat, even if he tips it to hide his blushing-red face. ♡

◇ Jotaro truly falls for someone's personality and their sweet smile. Everything else is superficial. Appearances don’t matter to him a lot.

◇ At the start, he's very private about his hobbies. Though, he has many interests aside from marine biology. His hobbies don't always circle around his career.

◇ Not very good with affection or PDA in general. At first, he'd shy out from cuddling, and let Star Platinum keep you in its arms. But when Jotaro warms up to your presence, his hugs are more frequent and godlike. Full of warmth, unparalleled comfort and so protective, that you feel like you are safe from everything. You'll melt in his strong arms. ♡

◇ Avid fan of dad jokes. Says them anytime he can. Mostly says them quietly, as you are beside him, so that you are the only one who can hear them.

◇ Would cook for you whenever he has free time. He might be a workaholic, but he loves caring for you.

◇ Elegantly emanates a fragrance of body spray, paired with a soft scent of seawater and fresh air. His clothes always smell divine. Like they just came out of the drier. Generally, Jotaro feels like a gentle morning breeze.

◇ Sleeps with the dolphin plush you bought him for his birthday. Has even given it a cute nickname.

◇ He's not very accustomed to technology, but he’s trying his best! You're much more knowledgeable with devices than him, so he really admires you for that.

◇ Clean, very sharp and bold handwriting. Neat but plain. Mostly writes in caps. Never forgets punctuation.

◇ When he is in high spirits, he lets his favorite cassettes play in the background, filling the room with the gentle sound of jazz and blues. R&B is also a big favorite of his. He always makes sure to play his music not very loud, since he doesn't want to bother you. Though, you love listening to his fave songs! You always praise his good taste in music till he becomes red-faced. Adores every song you recommend him.

◇ His frequent visits to the sea are mostly work related. But even when he observes and researches sea life by the shore, he never forgets to bring home a small seashell for you. He says that its delicate and beautiful, which reminded him of you. ♡

◇ Summer in Morioh means relaxing hangouts with Josuke, full of his warmth and affection. Though, when the first leaves fall and school life is around the corner, the time you can spend together is more limited than before. That doesn’t mean he can’t go out with you after school! 

◇ Loves going on study dates. The atmosphere of the cafe is relaxing. Even if he jokes with you most of the time, and doesn’t do any school work during your hangouts, he isn't as careless as he seems. Through these study dates he ensures that you are keeping up with your studies. Plus, he understands way better the subjects when you explain them to him! University is a bit difficult for both of you, but Josuke’s presence makes it much more bearable! 

◇ Though, Josuke would prefer hanging out at home. Adores being in the safety of his room, where he could express his love for you through cuddles and any kind of physical affection. If I didn’t make this clear enough, Josuke loves PDA! Whenever he notices that you feel a bit down, he immediately squeezes you in his arms! ♡

◇ Whenever you are hanging out at home, Josuke’s stand loves being by your side! It is as affectionate as he is. Crazy Diamond always keeps you in his embrace while you are gaming with Josuke. Sometimes, it will take you in its arms just to ensure you are not harmed in any way, by checking if you have any wounds it can heal for you. ♡

◇ Josuke will always check on you, and make sure you are eating well, staying hydrated and getting enough sleep. Usually through text messages. He would prefer phone calls, as he likes hearing your voice. Josuke might not even care this much for himself and his health, but his first priority is taking care of his friends, and most importantly, you!

◇ He loves making you happy. Not only with quality time spent together, but also with small gifts! Whenever he can afford buying something extra for you, he will. He’ll spend his cash for you without second thinking.

◇ Emanates a sweet scent of cinnamon and lavender. The smell of his hair gel is very soft and characteristic.

◇ Always lets you borrow his clothes. You haven't realized how adorable he thinks you look in his outfit! ♡

◇ Delicate, legible and cursive handwriting. It looks a bit childish, but his letters are very clean! While taking notes (which is a bit rare on its own), he definitely doodles on each page. His textbook is filled with cute and messy sketches of stickmen, flowers and houses. 

◇ Usually has a variety of pop, rock and R&B songs in his playlist, which is mainly filled with Prince’s songs. Always likes sharing with you any new song he finds. He is very excited to describe to you all the emotions he felt while listening to it. Really values a good melody! Is very bashful when you send Josuke a playlist you made for him. 

◇ If you manage to wake up really early, Josuke won’t have his hairdo ready yet. His pompadour takes quite some time to do, so you always love helping him prepare his hairstyle. He finds it endearing how much you care for him, how carefully you brush his hair and apply his hair gel. Though, when its just you two, he doesn’t mind letting his hair down. His luscious, messy locks make your heart skip a beat, but Josuke has no clue. ♡

[crispys-laptop]

aeonian (h.h.j)

genre: fluff, angst, immortal au

word count: 1.4k

~warning: mentions of death, character death

Network tag: @stayverse

a/n: thanks to @blueprint-han for the banner and helping me with this fic. I swear if it's not for you, it wouldn't turn out this good 🥺🥺 (and I come back to tumblr :3)

The first time you saw him was when he stepped inside the cafe that you worked at. His presence was enough to captivate people, their gazes lingering on his form as he walked past them and went to the counter.

"One cup of Americano, please."

His order was simple. Just a cup of Americano. He ordered the same thing the next day. Until it became a routine. He would walk into the cafe and come up to you. You would be ready with his usual order. You both exchanged smiles, you being too shy to start a conversation.

"I think he likes you." Your co-worker would say, giggling.

You shook your head at her ridiculous statement, continuing your work as you felt his gaze on you, watching you intently.

A few weeks later, you mustered up enough courage to talk to him. As you made way timidly towards his table, your heart beating frantically, fearing his reaction.

"Excuse me? You come around a lot but I haven't caught your name yet. Mine's Y/N and I just hope we can be friends?"

His smile was beautiful. Too beautiful to be human. Yet his eyes were carrying something, like sadness and longing but you couldn't pinpoint it.

"The name is Hyunjin. Nice to meet you."

"Why do you keep coming to our café even though it's miles away from your place?"

Hyunjin looked up from his cup to stare at you, lips lifting in a smile. He pushed the cup away from him, finger drumming on the table as you waited for him to answer.

"Your coffee is delicious. They remind me of someone. That's all."

You frowned at his answer. Hyunjin seems to notice that you were not satisfied with his answer yet he didn't say anything.

"Why don't you ask that person to make your coffee then? Did you guys fight or something?

You asked, absentmindedly stirring your coffee. Hyunjin went quiet for a while before opening his mouth.

"She died a few years ago."

You stopped stirring, guilt starting to fill your being. You grabbed his outstretched hand, nearly knocking the cups over.

"I'm sorry. That's rude of me. I don't mean to bring that up." "It's okay."

Hyunjin smiled lightly, patting your hand as you kept on apologizing. You eventually picked up your head to look into his eyes, fighting back his gaze.

A wave of nostalgia suddenly hit you. You didn't know why but his eyes seem familiar somehow. Like you already saw them before.

"Y/N? Are you there?"

You jerked out from your trance as Hyunjin waved his hand in front of your face. He looked worried.

"I'm okay. It's just I think I remember something when I stared into your eyes." "Oh. That's good."

And the next day, he didn't come back.

People think being immortal must be nice. You won't die. You won't get hurt. You could live for so long and you won't ever get old. It's a way of avoiding death, the thing that people feared so much.

But not for Hyunjin. If he had to choose, he chooses death.

For starters, he needs to see all his loved ones die with his own eyes and it will continue to haunt his memory forever. He can't stay in one area for a long time just in case anyone noticed him. No matter how much the town means to him, he had moved away to avoid causing a ruckus.

He needs to change his identity often which is the only way so people won't recognize him and sell him out. He hates being immortal.

Not to mention, it's hard for him to fall in love. Hyunjin has been falling in love with the same person every time for 400 years now. No matter how much you changed over time, he still falls for you.

It hurts to see you falling in love, getting married, having kids, and hearing you passed away. He could have approached you yet he knows he won't stand a chance with you and the thought of seeing you dying hurts him.

Yet, this was the first time you approached him first. He still looks after you from time to time, helping you in secret if you have ever been in trouble and it surprised him when you approached his table shyly, asking to be friends.

And so Hyunjin agreed.

But when she started to remember a little bit from her past life, Hyunjin knew it was time for him to flee. He couldn't risk you remembering him. As much as he hated to leave, Hyunjin knew it was for the best.

For 40 years, he lived alone, far away from your city. He suppressed his desire to see you, to know if you're doing good, to find out if you got over him.

Until one day, he couldn't take it anymore. So he went back to your city, just to watch you from afar. Seeing you after all these years, still smiling brightly while running the little cafe, made him feel relieved to see you doing so well without him.

He was surprised to find out you still didn't get married yet, like your other past life. Until he found out you were still waiting for him and you already knew the fact about him being immortal.

Turned out, Hyunjin stupidly left his sketchbook, the one where he keeps all his sketches of Y/N from her different life after their last encounter together. And it seems like she pieced it together to form a conclusion that he's immortal.

And so Hyunjin decided to come back. This time, to stay until your very last breath.

The bell on the door chimed merrily as someone stepped inside the cafe. You picked up your head from the old cash register, smiling at the person in front of you.

His presence, as always, drew people in to look at him, gaping at his figure. Even after 40 years, he still had that dazzling smile on his face.

"You didn't change much, Hyunjin." "And you aged beautifully, Y/N"

You chuckled slowly, shaking your head as tears collected at the brim of your eyes. Hyunjin helped you to get out from the counter, his hand gripping yours tightly.

"I may be old but I'm not fragile yet."

You mumbled as Hyunjin fussed over you, asking if you were comfortable. You sighed, smiling, a bit amused at his antics. You pulled his hand to sit next to you. Smiling, he held your hand tenderly, as your tears once again flooded the brim of your eyes.

"I missed you."

As the noises from the background faded into silence, you focused solely on Hyunjin as he did the same, the feeling of longing evaporated as you both basked in each other's presence, letting out the yearning for each other.

"Me too, Hyunjin. Me too."

Hyunjin took one last look at the graveyard, focusing on your tomb. He watched as your close ones went back along with him. His mind flew back to the last conversation you had with him yesterday before you passed away in your sleep.

"I'll try to remember you in my next life."

Hyunjin smiled as he fixed your blanket gently, patting your hand. You smiled back as his hand intertwined both of your hands together.

"Don't bother, Y/N. It's never gonna work."

You chuckled but it was quickly cut off with a cough. Hyunjin quickly handed her some water as he helped her sit up on the bed. You waved his hand away as the cough subsided, shaking your head.

"We just need a miracle, Hyunjin. If I can remember you after our last encounter 40 years ago, why won't I remember the next time we meet?"

You reached out to your nightstand and took out his sketchbook, handing it to him. Hyunjin reluctantly accepted it, feeling a bit lost.

"If you show me that sketchbook in my next life, I'm sure I'll remember. After all, I won't forget the person who draws me so beautifully like that."

You chuckled as Hyunjin flipped through the pages. He nodded.

"Now let's get you to sleep. It's late."

That night, Hyunjin drew you while you were sleeping peacefully with a smile on your face as you breathed your last air.

He gripped the sketchbook tightly in his grasp, willing himself not to cry. He let out a watery smile as he walked away from the graveyard, promising himself to do what you told him to do before.

Except, you were never reborn.

[shannon-amor]

SwampCon

SwampCon was actually really enjoyable! I’ve only been to one convention in Jacksonville. I was in eighth grade and obsessed with Supernatural. I had met the actors too!! A memorable experience for me, honestly one of the best weekends of my life. SwampCon was familiar to me in the sense that it reminded me of the Supernatural convention-- I even saw a couple of Supernatural pins at one of the stands. Very reminiscent for me.

I was only able to stay for a couple of hours, but the time I was there was great. I loved seeing all of the cosplayers. There was a variety of different anime shown through the cosplay. I went with Izzy, who was Nezuko for one. I think I remember Sailor Moon cosplay going on and then other anime I haven’t watched. But there was more than anime cosplaying! I saw Star Wars, FNAF, Nintendo-inspired cosplay, and more. The vendors there were dope too. I saw really neat artwork with varying styles. People were selling rough sketches to handmade key chains to digital art to soaps. I liked to marvel at the variety. I wandered through other areas where they were selling t-shirts and sweatshirts (you already know I had to buy an Attack on Titan hoodie). While I was there, I purchased Studio Gibli stickers and a Totoro lanyard!

However, I do have to dedicate an honorable mention to the maid cafe. My friends and I got there a little early so we explored for a little. Once it opened, we were sat at a table where a very sweet maid helped us to desserts. They varied from brownies, cookies, and cake. Yes, I had brownies for breakfast. Then the maids got onto the stage and danced, which was interesting to see. We took pictures with one of the maids, it was quite the experience.

Overall, it was a pleasant couple of hours. I liked being in an environment where everyone was comfortable exploring their passions through artwork and cosplay. This reminds me of otaku culture and how they literally emerge themselves into their interests.

[chatonne-rousse]

Zibeline

Happy birthday, @tsuki-chibi​!  This one’s for you.  😘

A Christmas gift exchange story with unintended (though not unwelcome) consequences. 

Read it on Ao3.

This is not the first time it’s happened. It is, in fact, not even the fourth or fifth. It’s like he has a sixth sense or the fine-tuned hearing of a fellow feline, that leads him straight to them.

Often, it’s just one cat, skin and bones and scrounging in an alley for restaurant scraps. Sometimes it’s an entire litter, abandoned and alone, mewing frantically in search of a savior. Once in a while, he finds their mom there, too, ragged and worn and tired from life on the streets.

It always ends the same way.

Chat Noir knows the location of every animal refuge in Paris, their hours, and the names of each employee and volunteer he’s met so far. Several have even set up crates in a secure area for the cats he brings after closing. It’s amazing that it hasn’t made the news in all these years, but somehow, Paris’s own black cat has humbly and quietly saved the lives of dozens of the city's neediest felines.

Tonight, Ladybug accompanies Chat Noir to the SPA to drop off a one-eyed senior tomcat they came across on patrol. His solitary eye is cloudy with age, one ear torn from a long-ago fight, but he purrs contentedly in Chat’s arms, his demeanor as gentle as the hands that hold him close.

Once the cat who’d been affectionately dubbed Pirate upon his discovery is safe and secure in the little pen, Chat sends the rescue a quick email from his communicator to let them know about who they’ll find the next morning. Baton returned to his back, he crouches down for one more scritch behind the old grey tabby’s ears.

Ladybug is used to this, well aware after several years of partnership that her own kitty’s heart is a fathomless well of kindness, but it never stops warming her heart to see it. Without thinking, her movement mirrors his, reaching out to scratch behind his leather ears, her gloved fingers tousling his hair. His faux cat ears twitch, and he glances up at her, grin radiant even in the dim light of the refuge foyer.

“Okay, cat whisperer, let’s go. It’s almost midnight.”

He nods, still grinning, and turns back to tell his new friend goodbye.

“They’ll take good care of you here, Meow-seur Pirate, I purr-omise. Cat’s honor.”

Pirate meows his appreciation as Ladybug fondly rolls her eyes.

One hand kiss, one ‘sweet dreams, Buginette,’ and one chilly swing across rooftops in the crisp December air, and Marinette can finally crawl into the warmth of her bed and curl up against her cat pillow to go to sleep. The feline theme suddenly seems so prevalent in her life that she can’t help the snort of laughter she muffles behind its ears.

Tikki zips over to hover in the air above the bed. “What is it, Marinette?”

“Cats, Tikki. Everywhere. Cats.”

They share a giggle as the kwami settles down on the pillow to rest.

“You like cats, don’t you?” she asks. “I’ve seen a cat in some of your family portrait sketches.”

Marinette can feel her face heat up. “Tikki!” she admonishes, before trailing off into laughter again. “I love all animals! Well, almost all of them. But no one loves cats like Chat Noir.” She sighs in mock exasperation. “Give a guy fake ears and a tail and suddenly he’s a magnet for strays.”

Silence falls in the darkness of the loft, sleepy and comfortable, before it’s broken by Tikki’s tiny voice.

“You know, I think it has less to do with his miraculous and more to do with his heart.”

Marinette smiles against the pillow. “I think you might be right, Tik.”

********

Even if Père Noël no longer visits, Christmas is still exciting when you’re a teenager. If nothing else, there’s a two-week break from school to look forward to, and Marinette is counting down the days until she can shelve at least one of her many commitments, albeit temporarily. Alya, on the other hand, is living for the class gift exchange.

“I hope I get Nino this year,” she whispers excitedly, dumping her bookbag on the table and sliding into the seat beside her best friend.

Marinette’s brows furrow in confusion. “Why?”

“So I can give him something awesome and win Christmas, obviously.”

“But...if you give him a gift in class, what will you have for him on the actual holiday?”

Alya wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and gives her a sly smile.

Marinette laughs and elbows her, ears burning, just as the boys walk into the room. Nino gives a quick wave and Adrien settles into his seat with a soft smile toward the girls behind them.

“Damn, Sunshine. I hope you spend the holiday break sleeping. You look like you need it.”

Adrien leans back toward Alya, blond hair brushing Marinette’s desk. (This does not go unnoticed.)

“I think we all know that’s not going to happen,” he replies with a wry smile.

Alya pats his shoulder consolingly. “Truth.”

********

The morning slides by, and Ms. Bustier ends the lecture early before they break for lunch. She leans against her desk, holding a bowl in her hand and shaking it gently. It takes a long moment and a deliberate clearing of her throat for the students to focus on her instead of packing up their bags. She smiles kindly at them once she has their attention again.

“I’d have done this at the end of the day, but not every student will be with us in class then, so we’ll choose our gift exchange recipients now.” Adrien ducks his head. He hates when people make concessions for him, but at least Ms. Bustier is thoughtful enough not to draw further attention.

She starts up the stairs, shaking the bowl again, beginning in the back row this year. “You decided by class consensus earlier this week that your gifts would be €20 or less and no bigger than a shoebox.” Nathaniel takes a slip first, his face unreadable as he folds the paper again and lays one hand atop it. Shake, shake. “We’ll have the exchange on December 21st, during our holiday party in the afternoon. You may bring your gift in the morning and I’ll keep them all in a safe place until it’s time for the exchange.” Rose chooses, followed by Juleka. Both seem pleased.

As more and more students choose a slip from the bowl, the room buzzes louder with whispers and murmuring among friends.

Ms. Bustier’s voice cuts through the chatter again. “This is a secret gift exchange, so remember, do not share your recipient’s name. No trading. We’re all friends here.” If she glances quickly at the back of Chloé’s head as she says this, no one says a word.

Marinette waits her turn quietly. In three class gift exchanges, she has never pulled Adrien’s name, nor has he chosen hers. So much for ladybug luck. All she really hopes for at this point is to not choose Lila. She doesn’t want to break Ms. Bustier’s rules, but if that happens, she’s totally trading with Alya.

The bowl shakes near her ear, and she reaches up to blindly choose a slip. Slowly, carefully, she opens the folded paper, and suddenly all she can hear is her pulse roaring in her ears. Because there, in Adrien’s familiar script, is the name she’d given up hoping to receive.

She looks up just in time to see Adrien’s ears pinken and his shoulders scrunch as he hastily refolds his own paper slip. Marinette wonders for just a moment who he’d chosen before her brain kicks into holiday overthinking mode.

She’d rethought many of the gifts for his next several dozen birthdays, repurposed them for other friends or dismantled them to their raw materials and created something new. But a portion of the chest in her room still holds gifts meant just for him. She could choose one of those, or she could make something new. She could create a gift or purchase an item somewhere. Perhaps she could knit a hat or gloves to match his birthday scarf. Oh, the possibilities are endless!

A nudge in her side shakes her from her swirling thoughts and returns her to the din of the steadily-emptying classroom.

“Ready for lunch, Mari?” Alya asks. Nino and Adrien are looking at her expectantly, too.

“Oh. Sure! Yes! Ready for anything. Soup?”

A beat of silence.

“You heard the girl!” Nino says, slapping one hand on the table and standing up. “Let’s go get some soup.”

Alya just pats her on the back and shakes her head as they pack up their bags.

********

Soup actually turns out to be a good idea today, even if Marinette has no idea why she said that. The four friends huddle around a table in the warmth of a nearby cafe, full and relaxed and reluctant to return to afternoon classes. Adrien startles suddenly when a calico cat jumps into his lap and meows loudly, demanding pets.

Nino backs away a bit, but Adrien simply melts.

“Hello there, pretty girl!” he coos. “Do you want scritches? I can do that.” The cat twists her head, showing him exactly where she wants to be scratched, and he happily complies. Marinette can hear the cat’s contented purr from across the table. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Yes, you do.”

Alya has her phone out and recording, but Adrien doesn’t even notice. This is the first time they’ve seen this cat at this particular restaurant, but she's definitely not the first resident feline to find them while they ate. Or shopped. Or hung out at the park. Adrien attracts cats like Chat Noir, and loves every moment of it.

“And here we see the Cat Whisperer in his natural habitat, among his harem,” Alya narrates the video as though it’s a nature documentary, and Adrien snorts with laughter before looking up, a sheepish half-smile lighting up his face.

“I just really like cats,” he says, and looks back down at the kitty. She abruptly headbutts his chin, making his teeth knock together with an audible clack. He stares at her for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing, rich and joyful, but loud enough to scare the cat from his lap. She trots over to the counter and stops to groom herself.

Adrien, still chuckling, brushes fur from his pants and shakes his head in fond amusement. “Cats.”

The proverbial lightbulb flashes on above Marinette’s head, the stirrings of an idea so crazy it just might work.

She has an executive assistant to email.

********

It’s shockingly easy to get permission for something so important.

“Do you think Nathalie even asked Mr. Agreste?” Marinette wonders aloud to Tikki above the whir of the sewing machine. “I can’t imagine she didn’t, but…” she trails off, shaking her head. Adrien’s household is a web of very strange relationships she has never quite understood.

Tikki hums and shrugs a tiny shoulder. “If Nathalie said yes, I guess the answer is yes.” She flies from her perch on Marinette’s shoulder to sit on top of the sewing machine; Marinette promptly releases the pedal and meets her kwami’s gaze.

“I’m glad she did, but the longer I think about it, the more I wonder if this is a terrible idea.”

“You still have a few days to decide,” Tikki reminds her.

Marinette nods before she catches a glimpse of the clock on her computer and jumps up in alarm.

“Gah! I’m late for patrol! Again!”

********

Chat Noir is waiting quietly at their appointed meeting spot, knees pulled up to his chest and tail dangling down the opposite side of the pitched roof. He unfurls like a night-blooming flower when he hears her land nearby, legs flopping to the roof, arm raised to wave at his partner, tail animated and alert. His bright smile makes Ladybug smile in return as she plops down next to him.

“Sorry I’m late, kitty. I lost track of time.”

“It’s okay, Bugaboo.” He bumps her shoulder with his own. “I knew you didn’t forget me.”

“As if I could!” she laughs, bumping him back.

He’s still smiling, but silence descends over the pair after a moment.

“You okay, Chaton?”

“Yeah, just thinking. Our class is doing a gift exchange for Christmas and I’m having trouble deciding what to get for my...my person.” He glances at his partner, but she only nods in response. “I got one of my friends this year. Not that they’re not all my friends, but...she’s special.”

“Special, huh?” Ladybug asks, a teasing lilt coloring her voice.

“It’s not like that,” Chat rebuts. He breathes a laugh, but his smile turns impossibly soft as he looks out over the lights of the city. “We’re friends, but she’s...I don’t know. There’s no one like her. She deserves a gift as beautiful as she is.”

Ladybug blinks once, twice, caught off guard by the tenderness in his voice. If she didn’t know any better, she might think the feeling in her chest was jealousy, but that can’t possibly be right.

His words catch up to him when he looks back at her again and frantically waves his hands between the two of them. “Oh! Not like that!” he repeats. “I mean, like, beautiful on the inside. Her heart.” He holds a clawed hand to his chest, and Ladybug quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, she’s beautiful on the outside, too. But it’s...really, it’s not like that. She doesn’t like me that way, and I…” he trails off. “You know.”

Ladybug takes pity on him and tucks her hand in the crook of his elbow, patting his forearm indulgently as the inexplicable knot in her chest loosens a little. “Yeah, kitty. I know. Maybe I can help. What does she like?”

Patrol is forgotten for the evening as two superheroes take the time to simply be two friends chatting about Christmas above the city they protect.

Some of his ideas need to be reined in.

(“It’s just a skein of wool!” he gripes.

“One of the most expensive in the world, Chat! Don’t you have a spending limit?!”)

Others are nixed immediately.

(“You are not buying her an embroidery machine!”)

Finally, he decides on a pool of several items that might work - he's leaning toward tickets to a fashion show, and Ladybug is only a little bit envious of Chat's 'very special classmate' - and settles back on his hands, relieved.

“What about you, Bug? Your class does this every year, too, right?”

She nods in assent. “Yep. But I already know what I’m getting him.”

Maybe he hears it in her voice, or maybe he’s just returning her earlier tease in kind. “Ooooh, him? Did you draw Mr. Mystery Crush’s name this year?”

Ladybug doesn’t answer, but her blushing cheeks do.

“Well.” Chat clears his throat and starts over. “Well, what is this lucky guy getting for Christmas from Paris’s favorite bug?”

She turns to him with a grin. “A cat.”

It’s his turn to be left speechless with his own twinge of jealousy.

“Before you ask, I already got permission from his family. Sort of. Well, I...the bottom line is that I got permission. I’m going tomorrow to the SPA to choose one for him. I’ve already called and made sure that I can bring it back without a problem if he doesn’t like it, but I can’t imagine that happening. Chaton, I’ve never met anyone else whose love of cats rivals yours. It’ll be perfect.”

After a long moment of silence, Chat seems to come to a decision before he stands and bows gallantly to his partner. “It would be my honor to accompany you to the shelter tomorrow to choose a feline fur-ever friend for your friend. I am the chief cat-bassador of Paris, after all.”

Ladybug looks up at him and thinks of how he cradled Pirate in his arms the other night on the way to the refuge, the calm, gentle way he whispers to tired mother cats, his delight in being approached by the everyday cats of Paris out for their evening strolls before returning home for the night. It has less to do with his miraculous and more to do with his heart, she hears Tikki whisper from the back of her mind.

She takes his hand and lets him pull her up before wrapping her partner in a hug.

“It would be my honor, kitty.”

********

And that’s how Marinette finds herself at the SPA just before closing on a Saturday afternoon, suited up as Ladybug and accompanied by Chat Noir, to adopt a cat for her friend Adrien, who happens to be a teen supermodel.

She thinks distantly of how she once said she was an ordinary girl with an ordinary life and wonders what in the world she was thinking.

The staff at the shelter are friendly and positively bubbling over with excitement to have Ladybug and Chat Noir in the facility to adopt a cat instead of simply dropping off rescues. Chat is eating it up, and Ladybug can’t help but smile with pride. He’s ridiculous, but in a dozen lifetimes, she could never find a better partner.

They make their way to the cat room amidst the distant sound of barking dogs from the other side of the shelter. She knew to expect it, but the look of absolute delight that crosses Chat Noir's face as he walks in the room is like the first rays of sun after a week of rain - brilliant, bright, and beautiful.

A cacophony of cat vocalization fills the room as they walk the rows of cage enclosures, from tiny mews to hearty meows. Little paws extend through the bars when they approach, and Chat tickles their toe beans or brushes their soft fur with his own clawed fingers. It's all a bit of sensory and emotional overload, so Ladybug purposefully brings her mind back to the task at hand, turning toward a shelter employee.

"I'm thinking of a relatively young cat, but not a kitten. Calm and friendly."

The employee nods. "We have a few that I think would be perfect for you." She smiles warmly toward Chat Noir, who is currently holding a giant ginger tabby who'd been roaming free in the room. "He's rescued several of the cats housed in this room right now. We're so grateful for him." She leads Ladybug to a bank of cages to the left, swinging open the door of an enclosure at eye level. "I've been calling this fellow Sable, but your partner was a bit more creative with naming when he brought him to us."

The label on the cage reads: My name is Zibeline. I'm super happy to be here instead of on the street! I was brought to the SPA on 14 December. I am about 8 months old, fixed and up to date on my shots. I'm a little shy, but I love treats and cuddling and I'm good with kids. I get along well with other cats after proper introduction. Are you ready to take me to my forever home?

Ladybug's heart twists. She can't choose the very first cat she sees, can she?

"Oh, you found my Zibby Bear! Hi, buddy!"

Chat Noir resituates the ginger tabby cozied up in his arms and reaches out a hand over Ladybug's shoulder to scratch Zibeline under the chin. The cat extends his neck and purrs happily.

He turns to the staff member. "He looks amazing. I knew there was a gorgeous coat under all that matted fur."

"It's true. He's like a brand-new cat."

A few moments later, Ladybug finds herself sitting cross-legged on the floor, dangling a little mouse with a bell in it over the head of a deep brown Burmese mix, falling more and more in love every time the cat turns his big yellow eyes toward her. He's active and alert but still mellow and sweet. As soon as she tucks the little toy behind her back, he climbs into the space between her crossed legs and settles his front paws on her knee. She looks up at Chat Noir helplessly, and he and the employee both laugh.

"Well, that was easy," he says. "Is The Zibster the one?"

She nods, running her gloved fingers gently through the cat's thick sable fur. She can't wait to pet him with her bare hands when they get home.

The staff member leads them to the front desk while another volunteer prepares the impending adoptee for his freedom ride. As they walk, Ladybug notices a large posterboard full of photos on the wall just outside the cat room door. "Thank You, Chat Noir!" is spelled out in die-cut letters across the top. Some photos are of cats looking out from their enclosures, some include Chat Noir himself holding either cat or crate. She does a quick count by fives and is astonished at the number she comes up with.

"Chaton, you've rescued 32 cats?"

His cheeks heat up, but his smile is soft. "At this shelter, yes."

Ladybug swallows quickly around the lump in her throat, changing tack to cover her sudden surge of emotion. "And do you give all of them ridiculous names?"

"Hey, I'm an excellent cat namer, thank you very much."

"What does Zibe-whatever even mean?"

He laughs. "It means sable - it's a little animal like a mink. My mother had a long sable coat that I remember her wearing to big, fancy events when I was little. Zibby's fur reminded me of that when I found him. Er, well...I thought it would once he was cleaned up."

"Why not name him Sable?"

Chat spreads his hands out in a grand gesture. "Well, I'm a learned gentlecat who speaks four languages, Buginette. Also, I already named one Sable last year."

Ladybug just shakes her head and laughs. This dork is truly one of the best people she's ever known. Perhaps she's luckier than she thought.

********

Monday morning dawns bright and lovely, a cold, crisp Winter Solstice to mark their last day of school before the long holiday. Marinette wakes to a shaft of sunlight across her bed from the skylight above, illuminating the deep chestnut fur of her temporary companion purring against her side. She can't resist reaching down to pet him, rousing him from sleep. He lifts his head with a questioning "mrrr?" before he closes his eyes again.

"Do we have to give him to Adrien, Marinette? I want to keep him." Tikki looks up at her with huge blue eyes, and she almost, almost decides to just give Adrien the forest green beanie she knitted for his 28th birthday. But she doesn't have time for a pet, her parents are busy with the bakery, and, well...this is already Adrien's cat, even if he doesn't know it yet, and she can't take that away from him.

"Sorry, Tik," she says with a yawn, sitting up and scooping the cat into her arms to help him down the ladder to her room. "We'll just have to swing over and visit him at Adrien's sometime." Her cheeks flush at the thought.

She preps a small gift bag with the supplies she purchased with her €20 - a little bag of catnip-infused toys, a shaker container of treats, and a bell collar embroidered with brightly-colored fish. Adrien doesn't need to know that the shelter waived the usual €150 adoption fee, nor that the neon green litter pan and carrier were thrown in for free as well. She has a feeling those were a donation by a certain masked black cat, but no one mentioned it outright and she didn't ask.

She kisses the little cat on the nose with a reminder that she'll be back for him later, opens her purse for Tikki, and sets off for school.

********

The class is abuzz with excitement. They've slogged through a morning of last-minute assignments and a pop quiz that brought groans from the students until the teacher said they could use their notes. Lunch was spent trying to get each other to give up the secret of who their giftee was, but none of them would budge. Marinette had made a quick trip across the street to "pick up something she forgot" just before the lunch break ended.

Finally, finally, it's time to return to homeroom for their Christmas party. Nino's phone plays a curated playlist of holiday music that provides a cheery background the students' chatter. Ms. Bustier's desk and a little table set up next to it are filled with snacks and treats. Red and green macarons decorate a silver tray, and a bowl filled with berry punch sits next to it, little splashes marring the smooth surface of several adjacent cookies. Marinette snags those for her own plate and slides the tray a few inches away before going back to her seat.

When everyone's plates are left with only crumbs, the teacher finally gets their attention. Nino turns the music down but not off, and everyone scrambles to get their gifts for the exchange.

Marinette sends a quick text to her mom before setting her phone on the desk beside the little gift bag. Adrien, she notices, holds a simple envelope in his hand, tapping it nervously against the desk.

Gifts are given to squeals of delight, oohs and aahs and one "whoa, rad!" from Alix.

When Sabine Cheng peeks in just as Nino is digging into his gift bag, Marinette excuses herself for a moment before returning with a carefully-ventilated shoebox. Okay, it held a pair of her father's giant shoes, but Marinette still followed the gift-giving guidelines. Sort of. She settles back in her seat, the contents of the box making a loud scrabbling sound, followed by a plaintive meow.

Every eye in the classroom is suddenly on the second row.

"Why don't you give your gift next, Marinette?" Mrs. Bustier says, eyes focused on the now-wriggling box.

Marinette slides the box forward on the desk toward Adrien, who is already turned in his seat, eyes wide. His gaze flickers to hers, to the meowing box, and back to her.

"Joyeux Noël, Adrien."

Chloé huffs at the look of wonder on his face as he brings the box into his lap, but no one else makes a sound.

Slowly, reverently, he begins to lift the lid. After just a few centimeters, a tiny black nose nudges into the open space, followed by one little paw covered in deep brown fur, then a second, before the cat pushes the lid up and off and climbs Adrien's t-shirt like a tree. His hands wrap gently around the cat's body and hold him close to his shoulder. Oblivious to the class going crazy, Alya filming the moment in shocked glee, and Ms. Bustier remarking to no one in particular that she thought they'd been told not to give living creatures as gifts, Adrien simply buries his face in the cat's fur.

"I thought you'd like, crochet a blanket or something, Mari," comes from somewhere behind her. Across the aisle, she hears, "Or bring a cake or madeleines or, I don't know, not a cat!" And, predictably, "Giving a cat as a gift is utterly ridiculous." But none of that matters. The world narrows to Adrien's shaking shoulders and the beautiful chestnut cat sniffing at the hair above his ears, making no move to wriggle free of the hands that hold him firmly but gently in place. For several frantic moments, Marinette is gripped with the fear that she has made a horrible mistake here.

When he finally raises his head, Nino surreptitiously passes him a tissue and pats him on the back while he reluctantly hands the cat to a squealing Rose, the first of many in a long line of cuddles in the cat's immediate future.

Marinette couldn't have said whether she was breathing or not before Adrien's eyes meet hers, but she's distinctly aware of the moment her breath catches. Where she thought she'd see the same joy he'd displayed during his many feline encounters over the course of their friendship, she finds something different. Gratitude mixes with a tinge of sadness, but behind it is something profound that makes her feel exposed and comforted all at once.

He blinks, his brow furrows, and the moment is gone.

"Marinette, I...well, my father..."

"Oh!" she exclaims. "I got permission. I can show you Nathalie's email if you'd like." She reaches for her phone, but Adrien stops her with a hand over hers.

"You're amazing, Marinette," he says, voice painted with the same wonder that shines in his eyes.

Alya is making a sound like a whistling tea kettle behind her still-recording phone. It takes Nino asking, “So, mec, what are you going to name your new little dude?" to truly bring them all back to the moment. The three sets of eyes in Nino's immediate vicinity snap to him, but the rest of the class looks to Adrien for his answer.

He rubs his neck and glances at the floor before answering. "His name is, um...Zibeline."

"Ziba-what now?" Kim asks, and half the class laughs.

"It means sable," he says quietly. "His fur reminds me of a coat my mom had that she'd wear to fancy events when I was little."

Max pipes up, “Adrien is correct. The sable is a type of marten found in the forests of Central Asia." He looks down at his phone for more info. "In fact, its scientific name is Martes zibellina. Zibeline is a little-known term in both French and English used to describe the sable or an item with sable-like qualities."

"Well, it's a very fitting name, Adrien. I do hope you enjoy your new pet." Ms. Bustier gives Mylène a pointed look, gesturing toward Adrien with her head, and the cat is reluctantly returned to his new owner. "Next year, please, no live animals in the gift exchange."

Alya nudges a malfunctioning Marinette, who nods absently. "Got it, Miss," Alya answers for her.

Marinette hears none of this. Her heart pounds in her ears, drowning out the class, their teacher, Alya. She stares, transfixed, at Adrien's bare hands holding Zibeline, trying and failing to reconcile that those same hands, previously gloved in black, had scratched the cat's chin two days before at the shelter. It can't be true that the same doofus who makes incessant cat puns and throws himself toward danger with a smile, who finds and saves the most vulnerable cats and kittens in Paris and has loved her for literal years is sitting in front of her now, cradling the cat they adopted together and looking back at her with those big green eyes she's seen in her dreams since she was thirteen. Right? Right?

Except...he can. He is. She sees it with perfect clarity as soon as she allows herself to truly believe it.

Less about his miraculous and more about his heart, indeed.

She's brought back to the moment when a crisp white envelope slides across her desk.

"For you, Marinette."

(Oh, even his voice is the same. How did she never realize?)

Inside are two tickets to a fall preview fashion show in early January, just as she knew there would be, just as she and her partner had discussed at their chilly rooftop meeting point on Friday night.

"Thank you," she whispers, finally meeting his eyes and finding a guarded hope that makes her heart ache.

Well, that won't do, she thinks.

Ms. Bustier wraps up the gift exchange, thanking the students for their participation and wishing them a very happy holiday. The class moves around them, students getting more snacks and punch, Christmas music turned up again to party volume for the last few minutes of the day. Alya and Nino get up together to refill their drinks, leaving their two seatmates and one cat.

There's a beat of silence between them.

"Beautiful on the inside, huh?"

Adrien's eyes widen in relief and he hides a laugh in Zibeline's fur. "I'm pretty sure I said inside and out."

Marinette giggles helplessly as a giddy glee spreads through her. "You did. And then you picked out your own Christmas gift." She reaches out to pet the cat but Adrien goes one step further and presses Zibeline into her arms. The cat settles happily, propping his paws on her forearm before laying his head on top of them.

"I love him, Marinette. Thank you."

Her breath catches in her throat again. Ostensibly, he’s talking about the cat, but his eyes speak something slightly different, with a weight that compels her to respond in kind.

“You’re welcome. I...I love him, too.”

His answering smile is pure, radiant joy. It makes her heart beat a little out of rhythm, and she clutches Zibeline just a bit closer, grounding herself in the feel of his thick fur. For a moment, Marinette is stunned by the wave of emotion that rises in her chest, a sudden vision of limitless possibility that makes her feel as powerful and determined as she does wearing her spots.

As he slides from his seat to refill his plate with likely-forbidden snacks, Adrien gives her a cheeky wink and leans in close enough that she can smell his familiar cologne. “That embroidery machine is still on the table, by the way. Seems like a super gift for a girlfriend who’s beautiful inside and out, doesn’t it?”

Marinette sputters as he saunters away, her ears and cheeks burning.

“Well, well, well,” Alya drawls as she sets down her drink. “Three years and two dozen failed schemes, and it turned out all it took to make something happen between you two was a cat.” She pops an entire macaron in her mouth and chews thoughtfully. "You won Christmas, by the way."

"I thought the competition was between you and Nino?"

Alya shrugs and points at Zibeline. "No one can beat that." After a long swig of punch, she reaches over to scratch the cat behind the ears. “Girl, I hope you like cats, because in a few years, this one’s going to be yours, too.”

Marinette looks down at the cat in her arms, then back at her best friend, and all she can do is laugh.

“Don’t worry, Alya. I love them. I always have.”

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 13 - Sketch/Ache

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, so close yet so far, 3k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

October already? Looking at the work schedule posted on the wall, Willie ran a hand through his hair. The time really was just passing him by, huh? Another day over, he grabbed his skateboard and strapped on his helmet.

“Hey, Willie?” His manager, Kyle, called after him before he got through the back door.

“Yeah, man?” Willie turned to answer him.

“This Saturday we need some extra hands while we’ve got a group performing. Could you be there?”

“Totally, man,” he said, smiling with assurance before heading out into the street. Los Angeles was fresher than Vegas, at least for him. He loved the breeze from the ocean that swept in every evening and being near the water in general. There was so much more to do, as well, and he didn’t think he’d ever exhaust that list. Just the number of places to skate was constantly growing, without mentioning the rest. Of course, he had been hoping to do some of them with Alex by now, but that was easier said than done. Sunset Curve didn’t seem to be doing too many shows at the moment, and that was all he really had to track him with.

Stopping at an antiquated apartment building, he headed down a stairway into the basement and burst through the door.

“Guess who’s home!” he cried. Sheldon came pattering over with his ever-cheerful prrrp and rubbed against his leg. Kneeling to pet him, Willie chuckled. “Aww, I’m happy to see you, too.”

He immediately went over to the cat’s bowl and poured some food in, listening to Sheldon purr loudly as he ate his dinner. Willie grabbed some food for himself to snack on as he sat at his desk and looked at the unfinished drawing that had been left there early that morning. He’d begun covering his walls in sketches again, and this time he didn’t have to be afraid of everything being torn away. In fact, Willie couldn’t even believe he had convinced himself that his life was fine when staying with Caleb.

Things had changed entirely. Since his brief adventure out in the desert, Willie was fully independent. He owed most of it to Bessie, still, and he thought of that woman every day. She hadn’t left him any way to contact her, otherwise he’d want to send her a thank you card at least once a week. It even overshadowed the fact that he’d actually ridden in a plane with Harrison Ford.

Willie remembered how incredibly short the flight had been in comparison to the rest of his journey. Bessie had donated an old cat carrier that they strapped into the cabin for Sheldon while Willie joined Harrison in the cockpit. It was nothing like watching the man fly the Millenium Falcon, except that it felt like they had gone into lightspeed and landed not too long after taking off. 

“You should be proud,” Harrison had told him. “You didn’t get sick.”

It had taken Willie until after they landed at the Santa Monica Airport to realize that he’d hardly spoken a word because he kept looking at him in pure shock at the reality of the man. His embarrassment must have appeared obvious, because Harrison Ford leaned down to look him in the eye.

“I’ve seen it a million times, don’t worry about it.” There was something sage about the resting expression on his face.

Chuckling in a flustered manner, Willie tried to think of the best way to thank him.

“Well, that was...that was really amazing, Mr., um...Mr. Ford. Thank you.”

The old actor smirked a little. Willie had seen a handful of actors come through the diner in Vegas before (at least, he’d been told they were famous, since he didn’t recognize most of them), and none of them were nearly as friendly.

“Willie, right?” Harrison had asked. It was enough to get him starstruck all over again, but he managed to nod. “Well, since I’ll never see you again, I’ll give you some advice.”

Willie listened intently.

“If you believe something is worth it, don’t quit. From what I already know about you, it doesn’t look like you do, so I have an extra piece of advice for you: planning and preparation is everything.”

Thinking back to when Bessie had scolded him about not riding the bus, Willie cowered inwardly. He couldn’t imagine how stupid he had sounded then.

“Do you know where you’re headed, kid? I can call a cab to take you anywhere you need.”

“How come you’re so nice?” Willie blurted. He hadn’t meant to.

Harrison Ford bowed his head, still smirking, and looked back up.

“I was twice your age before I really got anywhere. Now I’m just an old man who still does the job. Doesn’t mean I’m always nice, but sometimes….” He shrugged and gave him a wink.

Nodding, Willie had thanked him again. Harrison Ford held out a hand, which he shook with great enthusiasm before accepting the offer for the cab and saying goodbye. When he’d asked to go to the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the cab driver had looked at him in confusion.

“You do?” the guy asked. Seeing the definitive nod from Willie in the back seat, he just looked resigned. “Okay.”

Shortly after being dropped off, Willie had realized why the cab driver had responded that way. Standing before Grauman’s Chinese Theater, the street was just another place covered in gum, surrounded by people dressed as other celebrities. He saw other people taking pictures with them, and saw that the ones all dressed up were being paid. Some young woman dressed as Marilyn Monroe was doing her best to catch his interest with a flirty pose and a wink. Awkwardly smiling, Willie turned away and went to explore that area of the city. It was a good thing he hadn’t owned a camera then.

Now, he had decided to get a cheap one, just to capture anything he found interesting when he saw it. He’d accumulated a handful of things in the past few months: the basement apartment, a mattress, his writing desk and chair, and his job at the record-store-slash-cafe, among other things. The fridge had already been in the room, which was a nice perk. It was cool enough that the owner of the building had been willing to rent to him even though he was still underage. Working at the record store was much better than both the diner and the hotel, although his hopes of having Alex or his friends chance to stop in were dwindling some.

For now, it was much like before he’d left Vegas, only without Caleb’s dark shadow constantly looming over him and a few more memories restored. And, of course, he could keep Sheldon with him. It was strange how meeting Alex and being at the Pearl already felt like a dream. Willie often had the thought that maybe he should move on and start planning out whatever he wanted now. Maybe Alex had just been the catalyst to get him out of a bad position and help him move forward.

Staring down presently at the drawing on his desk, Willie sighed. Alex’s smiling face (what he could remember of it) beamed up from the page. Sure, he could tell himself to be over it, but was he really? Sheldon began running about the apartment like he was being chased by an invisible foe, creating a distraction from Willie’s thoughts. After a while, he went to bed and lay awake replaying in his mind the last few moments he’d actually seen Alex. It was still so vivid. If it was no longer important, why could he recall it so well?

He watched as Alex stood up and held out a hand toward him. Taking it, he was impressed by the strength with which he was lifted off the surface of the observation deck. His mind returned to earlier that day when the situation had been reversed, and he wondered if Alex had felt the same exhilaration from that moment of closeness. He already missed the feeling of Alex’s fingers through his hair. Gaining his balance, he let go of Alex’s hand and a nervous giggle escaped as a bout of giddiness came over him. 

“You alright there?” Alex teased, grinning.

Shaking his head, almost to clear it like an Etch-A-Sketch, Willie grinned back.

“I’m having a good time,” he told him.

The warm smile that spread across Alex’s face and the way his eyes lit up deserved to be captured forever. Willie was sure he could fill a thousand pages of sketches, even if they were all of that one expression.

“Me, too,” Alex said, eyes wandering all over Willie’s face.

Before Willie could blush too hard, he picked up his skateboard.

“I know some shortcuts that’ll get us back to the hotel pretty quickly,” he started, pressing the button for the elevator. He didn’t want to go back so fast, but he had to remember his early work day in the morning. Caleb always had some sort of laundry list on the days he didn’t immediately go in to work at the diner.

“You’ve been a good tour guide so far,” Alex said as they stepped into the elevator.

Casting a wistful look back at the splendid view of Las Vegas, Willie watched the doors shut. Once they got out to the street again, Willie looked up at the hat sitting on Alex’s head. Impulsively, he lifted it up and put it on backwards, grinning at Alex.

“How does it look?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Alex’s jaw hung open for a moment, his nervous smile betraying him.

“It looks good,” he said in a breathless manner. It was such a cute expression, Willie wished he could make it happen again.

Alex was wishing right then that he could keep a picture of Willie with the hat on. He usually didn’t let people just steal it off his head, but when the result was that handsome he wasn’t going to complain. He’d wait until they had reached the hotel to ask for it back.

“So,” Willie started saying. “Back to L.A. in the morning, huh?”

Ah yes, the feeling of being crushed by reality. Alex bowed his head. He wasn’t excited to address it.

“Uh, yeah,” he sighed. “You know, when I got here I was hoping to just get the gig over with and leave, but that...I kind of forgot about that.”

He glanced up at Willie, not sure how much he should go into detail about why he changed his tune.

“But then you met Sheldon and he was the coolest cat ever, right?” Willie teased.

A chuckle of genuine entertainment escaped his throat. Did Willie know how charming he was? Alex wished he knew how to tell him.

“Yep, it was definitely the cat,” he responded. “Although the owner isn’t too bad, either.”

He got a casual shrug in return.

“Well, I know I’m busy, but I could call you,” Willie offered.

Fear pinched everything in Alex’s chest. It almost made him stop in his tracks.

“God, I - ” he started awkwardly, forcing his body to keep moving. “I can’t. I seriously wish I could, but that’s just...not possible.”

He already hated the words the moment they’d been spoken. His parents suspected enough things about him and his activity with the guys in his band, but they would make his reality pure hell if they ever picked up the phone from a guy they’d never met who had shown as much interest in him as Willie. While he felt fine being open just about anywhere else, at home was where he remained most guarded.

Willie was looking at him with slight disappointment.

“That’s too bad, I guess,” he said. “At least I know I won’t be going anywhere for a while, so you know where to find me.”

It was the only consolation they could afford. Alex wanted to make plans right then and there.

“And what would we do if I did find you?” he asked, knowing he was prodding for signs that he wasn’t the only one with hopes. He tried to relax his stride to appear more casual.

“Lots of possibilities,” Willie told him. “I haven’t shown you my favorite museum, or seen you skate - ”

“Just putting it out there,” Alex interrupted, raising a hand. “I cannot skate.”

Willie blew a raspberry. “Maybe not now, man, but you will by the time I’m finished with you.”

The way he wiggled his eyebrows made Alex think of something much different than riding a skateboard. He cleared his throat nervously as he looked up at the street they were on. The hotel was already a block away.

“Whoa, how’d we get here so fast?” he wondered.

“I know my shortcuts,” Willie said proudly.

Unfortunately, he did. Alex wanted more time to figure out a way to see Willie in the future. There had to be a possibility in the future. His long legs could only go so slowly, however, and soon they were stopped outside the hotel doors.

“Are you gonna make it home okay?” Alex asked. “Wherever that is?”

“I’ll be fine,” Willie shrugged plainly. “It’s not too far.”

For a minute, they stood in awkward silence. Alex could feel his entire body burning to make some gesture that left Willie with the right impression. What would be too forward? A hug? A kiss on the cheek? He’d already checked off holding him and running his hand through Willie’s hair, so he wasn’t going to simply send him off with a hand wave or something.

“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow before you guys go?” Willie said, smirking optimistically.

“Yeah, maybe,” Alex said, trying to return a smile with the same optimism.

“Oh,” Willie sputtered. He took off the hat and tried to place it back onto Alex’s head properly. It didn’t work, but Alex simply adjusted it into its comfortable backward position. His fingers twitched under the temptation to touch Willie’s hair again.

“One of these days…” he muttered.

“Hm?” Willie perked up curiously.

Oh, no, he’d said it out loud. Damn. There was no way he couldn’t follow up.

“Uh...one of these days I’ll be around here again,” he said, nodding to reassure himself. “I’ll come looking for you.”

Willie could only look up at him and smile.

“I…” Alex began to scratch the back of his neck, but forced his hand down into his pocket. It had to be said. “I definitely like you.”

He watched Willie’s face morph from surprise into a smile, and finally his trademark eyebrow raise.

“So do I,” Willie said, biting his lip.

They both giggled, now that their feelings were out there in the open. It only made Alex ache more to stay. Willie placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You take care, Alex,” he told him.

He nodded. “And you be safe, Willie.”

He got one more glance into those gorgeous brown eyes, longing to toss in a line and anchor himself in them. The dim lights from the street played off of the natural glimmer that was always present.

Feeling Willie’s hand slide off his shoulder and down his arm, Alex could’ve sworn there was a tiny squeeze he received at the end of his fingers before Willie let go and got onto his skateboard. He watched him leave until eventually he was staring out into the darkness all alone. Reluctantly, he headed back up to the hotel room.

Alex was lying awake in his bed, silent tears falling down his cheeks at the bitter memory. His last words to Willie had been powerless to protect him. What sort of sick and twisted universe would let that happen? He knew he had no control over those circumstances, but he still felt that if anyone died in a fire, it should be him. Willie had been too wonderful to deserve it.

Turning to his side, he still hated the sobs that wracked through his whole body months later. Most people would deem it pathetic to hurt this much over someone he’d barely known. It was strange, but it felt almost undeserved, like mourning as he did wasn’t allowed. What about the people that Willie had spent time with every day? How could Alex begin to fathom their pain? To them, his sorrow would appear as empty as if he were crying over Freddie Mercury. This hurt far more than when he’d cried over Freddie.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t tell his family. The guys had been okay at letting Alex have his space, but his parents kept making comments about his sudden upset over everything. They would only see death as something bittersweet, a “better place” to go for people who were doing the right things. Of course he was terrified of death - he wasn’t exactly considered worthy of anything good, by their standards. That only made the loss of Willie that much worse. He hadn’t bothered to explain himself to Abbey. He couldn’t put that emotional burden on her.

Before he could let his mind wander further into the dark, Alex tried to find something else for his brain to put on cycle. Oddly enough, it went back to singing for Julie’s mom at the hospital. The words immediately began to repeat in his mind: we all live in a yellow submarine…. It wasn’t a song that he truly loved, but it was catchy. It was the one Willie had suggested they do. Alex remembered how he’d imagined everyone in that room in their own world together, safe and free from worldly cares. Somewhere full of color and warmth and people could be happy as they were.

That’s all he truly wanted. Maybe he would have that with the band, and maybe he’d get away from his parents and finally be free from all of their pressure, and maybe one day he’d recover and find a guy like Willie again. He wasn’t sure what he really believed just yet, but there had to be something good worth holding onto. If it was just some stupid world where he and his friends lived in a yellow submarine, so be it.