#I HATE ART SCHOOL I HATE ART SCHOOL I HATE ART SCHOOL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babygorewhore · 12 hours

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Frat!Rafe Cameron x sporty! fem reader!

As Kiara’s older sister, gifted athlete and now college student, you never had time for dating. Or time to acknowledge your secret crush on Rafe Cameron. But when your eighteen year old little sister visits, she pushes you to attend one of his parties.

W.C. 2.4k. I was requested by anon for inexperienced!reader! And size kink! I hope you enjoy!! I lowkey wanna burn this lol

Warnings! I am NOT an athlete by any means so this is very vague lol. Size kink! Inexperienced reader! Manhandling, slapping kink! (Rafe likes to be slapped) degrading, praise, oral! Fem receiving! Unprotected sex! Reader is sporty and frequently works out. Kiara is also OOC but it’s my fic lol. Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Getting a visit from your parents and little sister motivated you for the performance as you accepted flowers and praise after the competition. Your mother and father finally allowed Kiara to stay the weekend with you on campus, you managed to convince them that your eighteen year old baby sister would be completely safe with you.

You knew they were mostly attempting to keep her away from Pogues back home but with your down to earth nature she felt comfortable to get along with you.

“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time studying something else. Why don’t you go to a fancy art school or some shit? Follow your dreams!” Kiara flopped on your bed in your dorm and you sighed.

“Because. Sports aren’t a long lasting career choice for me. Besides, if you want to live with me, I need to have a good paying job, right?” You countered as you sipped a protein shake.

“You need to stop thinking about everyone else. Think of yourself. You don’t have a life. All you do is study, work and compete. You’ve got to be so bored.” She argues, folding her arms.

“I’m not bored, Kiara. I stay busy and I’m fine with that. And I do have a life! I have a few friends and I have you.” You mumble and she lifts herself up, walking over to you and lightly elbows you.

“You know how much I hate them, they’re a waste of money that could be used for donations but what about parties? Have you gone to any?” Rolling your eyes, you groan at her lecture.

You knew she was jealous of your freedom, considering her relationship with your parents and her full time job. But she also didn’t understand you. The pressure you’d always been under. At a young age, you were in gymnastics. Building your body like a machine while you spent everyday challenging yourself to meet your next goal. And you were good at it.

Your wall was covered in medals, your shelf had a few trophies and photographs of your proud moments.

Dancing was a natural evolution for you. Something you’d discovered when one of your gymnast friends opened their own studio after graduating high school a few years ago. The fluidity of movement, the tempo of the beat and music brought you to life. You were strong, frequently at the gym to keep up with having to flip yourself around in the air with your part time job that was physically demanding.

Your life was fast paced, a competitive streak in your blood motivated you to remain disciplined and focused. Your guilt for being so busy was one of the reasons you wanted Kiara to stay with you this weekend. But she did have a point.

You didn’t have time for dating. You’d never had a boyfriend, guys in the past weren’t exactly pleased that you could fairly put up a physical fight given your athletic lifestyle and razor sharp drive. Men found you…boring. You had an obsession with Halloween and darker things too. It was a nice change from the neon uniforms you were forced to wear.

Her question about parties reminded you of a instagram post you were tagged in yesterday and Kiara must have sensed your train of thought. “Don’t tell me you were invited to one and you’re not gonna go?”

“I’ve been too busy! Plus I wanted to hang out with you-“

“It’s tonight?” She shrieked and started shoving you to your bedroom. “What the hell are we doing? You need to get ready.”

“Kiara, I’m not going to some stupid party. I’m tired from dancing earlier and besides Rafe Cameron isn’t going to notice one person who doesn’t show up.”

“I fucking knew it. You’ve been crushing on that asshole for years. That’s why you were so happy you got into this school.” She accused and you defensively shook your head.

“No I haven’t-“

“Me and Sarah knew you liked him when you shoved him in the pool years ago when he was messing with us when you were life guarding. And that’s why you always offered to babysit during high school. You just wanted to be near him.” Kiara made your jaw drop and you turned away.

“That’s not true! He’s a dick! Why would I like someone like Rafe? That’s why I’m ignoring his invitation.” She extended her hand.

“Let me see the post.” You grumbled something about how your little sister was the one bossing you around and you slapped your phone in her palm.

She read the invite with her mouth parted. “It’s a fucking Halloween themed party? You can dress up and you’re not going? He’s obviously obsessed with you.” You yank your phone back.

“What are you talking about? He’s not!”

“He was there tonight. I saw him watching you dance in the crowd.” You gasped and you felt your cheeks burn. “And now, he’s doing something knowing you like it. Get out of those damn sweatpants and put on something cute. You’re going to that party.”

“No I’m not! I don’t like Rafe Cameron and listen here you little goblin,” Kiara ignored you as she dug through your drawers for another set of clothes.

She tossed you an oversized shirt with skulls on it, knee socks and your converse. “Here. This is good.”

“Why do you want me to go so badly? You hate Rafe!” You complained and she waved her hands.

“Yeah I do. But I want you to have fun. Let loose for one night. Show off what you worked for and finally put yourself first.” You raised an eyebrow.

“You really wanna talk to someone don’t you and you don’t want me hovering?” She was finally silent for a few seconds and you smirked triumphantly. “Fine. I’ll go to this damn party.” You walked away, preparing to change clothes but you gave her a light smack upside the head.

“Ow! The hell was that for?” She whined.

“For telling me what to do.”

You felt your heart in your throat as you knocked on the door of the house where the party was held. You could hear the sound of music and chatter from behind the door as you shifted your weight from leg to leg.

Your face was covered in makeup and your jewelry dangled from your neck as you waited. The entrance opened and Topper ushered you in. “Hey! Look who it is! The girl of the hour!” His arm slung around your shoulders and the bustling crowd cheered. You awkwardly smiled and waved. Girl of the hour?

“Cmon. Rafe is upstairs.” Just the mention of the males name made you swallow thickly and you followed him. A lot of people were wearing costumes, fake blood and merchandise from scary movies.

You recognized Rafe because of his clothing and body but his face was covered. He was wearing a Ghostface mask. Plain black shirt and jeans. Your eyes widened briefly when he turned, noticing you before you smoothed back your nerves and approached him. He met you half way and looked down at you, mask tilted.

“You did show up after all, princess.”

You give him a smile. “Yeah I did. I heard you were at the dance. Did you like what you saw?” You didn’t know where this confidence was coming from but he seemed to be enjoying it. Rafe stepped a little closer, “Oh I loved it, baby. That’s why I told everyone to dress up. Gotta celebrate my little champion, huh?”

“Champion?” You parrot and he chuckles.

“Of course, Angel. You think I’m stupid or something? I’ve been a big fan of yours for a while. I couldn’t wait to get you here so I could have you all to myself.” He trails off quietly and you feel his big hands settle on your hips, squeezing lightly.

“Well, we’re not alone,” You respond and he tugs you against him, as much as you love the mask, you wanna rip it off.

“Easy fix, baby girl. C‘mon.” Instead of walking, Rafe lifted you off the ground and you squeaked. Throwing you over his shoulder, he walked through a hallway before opening a door.

Rafe easily tossed you onto the bed, the plush covers and pillows bounced. You shakily sat up as he tore off the mask and looked down at you with a dark smolder.

“Oh, princess. You have no fuckin idea how long I’ve wanted you in my bed.” He leaned down and put both hands on either side of you as you looked up at him, doe eyes staring into his.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything? Why would you like me? I’ve never told you-“

“Like you? Baby, I don’t just like you. I think about you all the time. No one else has made me feel like this. You’ve always stood up to me and didn’t put up with my shit. You think it’s a coincidence that I liked to push your buttons when we were kids?”

You’re breathless as he tugs on the end of your shirt with a smirk.

“I like a girl who pushes back. You’re my strong girl, hmm? But not tonight. You’re not in control for once. I am.” He grips your waist, your bare skin from your top pulled up and your core pulses.

You reach up, lightly smacking him in the face. “You think you can earn my submission?” Rafe gives you a chuckle and flash of excitement crosses his eyes.

“Princess, by the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna be my little fuck toy. You just wanna push my buttons so I throw you around.” His words turned you on more and you shudder as goosebumps rise on your skin. “Slap me again. Get a good one in too.”

“You serious?” You whisper and he nods.

“What? You too scared?”

You slap him. Hard. Hard enough that his face turns but Rafe doesn’t look angry. “That was a good one, baby. But I’m gonna make you forget any other fucker. I’m sure all those other dudes are all over you at the studio or some shit.” He grunts and tugs off your shirt. Exposing your torso and bra.

You have the urge to cover yourself but you resist. “I don’t have time for dating.”

Rafe pauses and raises an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you haven’t dated? You a virgin?”

You bristle. “No but…it’s only happened once.”

Rafe cups underneath your arms and manhandles you higher on the bed. You don’t have time to breathe before you find yourself pinned with your arms above your head, his face inches above yours. “Bet you’re soaked right now. Underneath those panties you wear.”

He reaches in between your legs and cups your cunt. “God damn, princess. This what you needed? Me to take care of you? Shut off that overthinking head of yours?” He muses and you cup his face bringing him down to fuse your lips together in a messy kiss.

He moans against your mouth and shoves his tongue inside, you separate your legs and tug him closer.

“Gonna taste more than your mouth, baby girl.” He promises and kisses down your body, peeling off your underwear.

“I’m gonna worship this perfect pussy. I’m gonna take such good care of my girl,” He mutters against your pelvis. Rafe shoves your thighs apart and buried his head in, making you groan and dig your fingers onto the sheets.

His tongue laps hungrily at your clit, sucking in all your wetness as he moans and grinds on the bed. You whimper as he fucks you with his mouth.

“You like that, babydoll?”

“Mhm! I’m gonna cum,” You stammer and he lifts up, his massive body flexing as he rips off his shirt. Exposing his fit body.

“You’re gonna cream on my dick, then you’re gonna clean it up. Are you going to be a good little whore?” He breathes and you whine.

“Mhm, yes. Please, fuck me. I need it so badly. I want you to fill me up,” You beg and he shoves off his pants. His big, thick dick slapping against his thigh.

“How can I say no to such a pretty girl?” He gives your bare ass a slap before he pumps himself a couple of times, his cock in his fist before he presses into you.

You mewl and bury your head in his neck. He growls and thrusts, hard enough that you almost feel like you’re gonna burst from how big he is. But he quickly adds his fingers to rub your clit.

“This fuckin pussy is mine. It’s so tight, splitting you in two, baby girl. Gonna breed this perfect cunt.” He huffs and your eyes squeeze shut as your peak rises.

“That’s it, princess. Cream on my dick.” He praises and your climax overwhelms you.

You cry out and sink your teeth into his naked shoulder and he moans. He moves harder, bringing slight pain but it only adds to your pleasure. He spills in you, “Gonna stuff you so full of cum you’re gonna be a brainless little doll.”

Rafe pulls out, pumping himself again as cum drips onto the bed. “Give me that pretty mouth, princess. I wanna see your eyes roll back. You can fuckin take it. Like a little champion.”

Tagging @marchsfreakshow @xxbimbobunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @redhead1180 @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @rafeinterlude @gri959 @rafesthroatbaby @slvt4jamesmarch

#rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 day

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i've been having a couple of downer days recently, and i kept looking for a verse i haven't read thrice yet for some comfort, but you're age! gap verse has been a pleasant escape even though its not what i was looking for. you're writing never fails to make me feel better ari 💕💕

Here's how they met 💜

Bruce sighed. He was starting to hate talk show appearances, but at least this one had never been too bad. Angelique was chatty and fun but not grating. Her show ran as school let out. So grannies watched after their naps and kids watched getting off the bus. She ran a little something for everyone.

He assumed he was here for the grannies.

"I'm so sorry I'm late the shoot ran over and I couldn't get away."

The voice caught his attention. Not the fake starlet over dramatic gushing, but genuine distress. And he half turned to look. You looked like you came from a shoot. Straight off the pages of a glossy magazine.

"No worries, Miss Y/L/N we got your call in enough time. We'll just touch up your face and you'll be good to go," the manager greeting you, said.

Bruce smiled a little. Clearly, you were a frequent guest. You thanked him profusely and trotted off. Not needing to be told where to go. And as you go, there's several crew members you can greet by name. You've either been here a lot or worked with them before. Or both. But, it's endearing.

He turned back around listening to Angelique get her updates on where production was. "-And Y/N is in hair and makeup as we speak."

"Oh, bless her heart," Angelique said. "That's what I get calling her last minute." She turned to Bruce and held out her hand, "Are you ready?" she asked.

"As I'll ever be," he chuckled taking her hand, "You know these sorts of things aren't my forte. My oldest on the other hand-"

"Don't you worry about a thing," Angelique reassured him, patting the hand she was holding before letting it go. "Y/N is an old pro- Ah! speak of the devil!" She swooped over and kissed you on either cheek. "You look absolutely divine, is that one of yours?"

"You know it is," you tell her laughing, returning the gesture. "As if I could walk in and NOT wear my own design, you'd never let me live it down."

"So true. Darling," she said grabbing your hand and pulling you over to Bruce, "I want you to meet Bruce. You'll be on stage together today. You know it's charity week and I though it would be great to highlight all the work you do for school arts programs along side the Wayne foundation," she said.

"Hello," you tell him, holding out your hand.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, taking the hand you offered warmly. Giving you his most charming smile. You did look good. And he could tell they hadn't done much to your face or your hair. "I'm a big fan of your work," he commented.

Your smile didn't falter but your eyes narrowed slightly. And Bruce cringed internally Shit. She thinks I mean the Playboy spread, he thought. "Your last movie, the drama, especially. The range of emotion and the depth- It really was incredible."

"Thank you," you tell him. "It was challenging but I really enjoyed it."

Bruce felt his face heat when Angelique coughed and he remembered hearing that you had the ability to make someone feel like they were the only person in the room. He'd forgotten for just a second. In just that brief moment that he was waiting for an appearance. "It showed I uh- my kids made fun of me when I cried at the end-"

"Aww, Angelique gushed, "This is amazing. you guys keep up this chemistry. It'll go totally viral." She bounced on the balls of her feet and kissed your cheek again, "I'll have someone bring you a coffee, sweetie. You're going to start wilting soon."

And before you could say anything or Bruce could offer to go and get it for you himself, Angelique had bustled off to find and assistant to give marching orders to.

#bruce wayne x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #age gap!reader

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penspolin · 2 days

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Benedict Bridgerton & Freedom: A Character Study

I think many would agree that Benedict Bridgerton's storyline in season 3 so far has been rather stagnant, potentially deja-vu-inducing. Benedict pursuing an unconventional love interest is nothing we have not already seen from the series. But despite the cyclical nature of Ben's plot, it could suggest more about his characterization (more specifically, his subconscious desperation) than what first meets the eye.

Art & Societal Detachment

Much of Benedict's plot in seasons 1 and 2 revolved around his relationship with art. Symbolically, art is a means of escape from the real world, just as it is a means of interpreting that world or one's place within it. Since both Colin and Benedict struggle with society (in similar, yet still different, ways), it only feels right that Colin feels a personal connection with writing while Benedict expresses himself through art.

It goes without saying that Benedict has poured his soul into his artistic pursuits; it is a part of him, and so naturally the revelation that Anthony bought his place in art school is a massive blow to his self-confidence. Colin experiences something similar: it's as if both brothers are struggling with this question of what it means to be themselves, not merely "Bridgertons" (side note, but the series title is interesting to me in that it calls upon the family's reputation, despite that reputation creating conflict in so many of the characters' stories).

Benedict makes several comments throughout the show that serve other characters' plots, but they speak so much to how he sees the world. For example, in S2 he tells Anthony:

"Poetry is the art of revealing precious truth with words."

By suggesting that poetry "reveals" something else, Benedict is implying that the world is made up of concealed truths. In other words, art is a means of seeing the world (and society at large) more clearly. Which brings me to...

Freedom (& Tilley Arnold)

Season 3 Benedict feels purposeless. The promotional material has indicated as much, and we saw it early when his only means of fulfillment (performing Anthony's Viscount duties while he was away on honeymoon) was taken away.

Season 3 Colin rejects society internally but tries to embrace it outwardly. Benedict has played the part himself before, but he's never pretended to enjoy it (see: his dancing at balls this season).

Ben is a rake, but he's not the kind that chases women to build his reputation. Colin was a rake to fit in, but Benedict is a rake because...well, because he wants to be. An important distinction. The similarity with Colin, however, is revealed through a conversation between Benedict and Mondrich.

Benedict views society as a cage outside of marriage. Once one becomes married, they become free. He even uses that word (a season 4 hint, perhaps? Could Ben's next pursuit of 'freedom' be finding the love of his life?).

We know Benedict hates these imposed restrictions. The most fascinating thing is that even when he has lost a huge part of his identity, Ben is still inherently searching for something, someone, to represent that detachment from society that he so craves. It's why he seems so disinterested in courting--why he runs anytime he is forced into the "societal" box. He is subconsciously searching for anything that removes him from this box...and who better than a bold, unconforming widow?

In my eyes, if Benedict falls in love with Tilley Arnold, that ultimately says more about him psychologically than any true bond between them. It is the idea of her that he falls back on so strongly after the blow he's suffered losing his art, the one thing that made him feel whole. She's temporarily filling a void.

Masquerade

Last point--the symbolism of masquerades. It's an interesting contradiction that concealing one's physical identity is actually exposing one's inner identity. That is to say, the writers have a chance to play with these ideas--self-expression, freedom, facades, escapism, etc.--at the masquerade ball (whenever we see it). It's such a poetic representation of what Benedict is searching for. I'd argue it's almost all subconscious at this point. Benedict seemed so sure of himself when he had art, but now the tables have turned on him--he's like Colin in S2: purposeless. The brothers' stories mirror each other, but the resolution of their problems is unique.

Here's hoping the showrunners/writers take advantage of the opportunity to do something more with Benedict's character in the second half of season 3. And fingers crossed this is all gearing up for Benedict as S4's lead. Seeing Colin in the spotlight in S3 presents a nice comparison with Benedict's own struggles.

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #benedict bridgerton #benedict #colin bridgerton #Bridgerton meta #benophie #luke thompson #luke newton #bridgerton season3 #meta #bridgerton s3 spoilers #benedict x sophie #bridgerton series #bridgerton meta #bridgerton analysis

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mayordoi · 14 hours

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IS isnt adding the fuckin kagamine twin protagonists from warriors so im putting my hangups towards warriors aside to draw lianna as if she was in heroes cuz i actually kinda like her design. this has definitely been done before, but now it’s my turn >:)

this takes me back! i used to love copying the art from fe heroes when i was playing it in middle school and its how i got my foot in the door with improving my art since i was always practicing. i also have made mock-heroes art during that era for a collab (drew two characters from the binding blade manga), but that was back in the stone age of 2018 and ive improved a lot since that last attempt

i am not doing rowan cuz i hate his haircut. also drawing heroes-style art is kinda exhausting lmao i am not a fan of drawing a character with the exact same colors the exact same way…….. (though i do want to try this again in the far future with one of my ocs)

#mayor doidles #fanart #fe #fire emblem #fire emblem heroes #fe heroes #feh #fe warriors #fire emblem warriors #lianna fire emblem #digital art #regular style #no this would not fool anyone lmao the lineart/edges are not super clean 🥲#not that that was the goal but. yeah #when i made my first attempt at this type of heroes art for the collab the collab runner made a silhouette teaser featuring my art #and i smugly showed it to my feh friend group as if it was real #and they were immediately able to clock it beause OBVIOUSLY and they pointed out that the hair for the character i drew looked too cartoony #idk what i was expecting but it did humble me a little. looking back like……. yeah obviously that shit would never fly in heroes LMAOOO

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gayaest · 2 days

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how boring to have original characters that arent even characters. how incredibly dull. like how can you form any sort of attachment to something so undeveloped & bland. where's the personality. where's the imagination.

Oh you’re mad for some reason, you should look within to figure that out ❤️ because it certainly has nothing to do with me!

I never said that others having oc backstories and complex stories surrounding them is a bad thing — but I personally don’t, and I never have.

That’s not how I engage with my art nor is it fun for me — especially because due to my neurological issues, reading is extremely difficult as is complex processing, not to mention writing a complex story? No way, I’m not in school for a reason 😭👍

I’m sorry you have to use the strength you have in order to spread negativity and hate ❤️ I hope you have a good night, regardless.

#anon #negative /#perhaps other disabilities do not function the same and your life is not like mine ❤️😭

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the-golden-comet · 3 days

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Thank you for the tag, @thatuselesshuman !

I think Noah hasn’t been interviewed yet, so he’ll get his time to shine in the hot seat….if we can pull him out of his apartment, that is.

Noah from YWIMC:

Were you named after anyone?

I dunno….my dad’s Catholic, so it was probably after Noah’s Ark….

When was the last time you cried?

Uhhh…I’m not sure, actually. I know the hardest time I cried was back in Georgia, when my school outed me to my parents. I don’t think I can ever look my dad in the eye again after the look he gave me….

Do you have any kids?

….Nah. I’m too focused on school right now to worry about starting a family. Ali said he wanted to adopt the children off the streets of Madinah, but his father forbade him. He’d probably make a great dad. He’s kind, and really energetic. Fuck….fuck, dude. It’s so fucking unfair to him.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

That would require me talking to a lot of people. And people suck. Except Ali…I don’t know if I could ever be sarcastic with him. He’s like a golden retriever…goofy, happy. It’d probably go over his head….and I don’t wanna hurt his feelings.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

….I don’t.

What is your eye colour?

Olive.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Neither. I like documentaries. Uhhhh, I guess if I had to choose? Happy endings. I don’t like getting jumpscared by cheap scare tactics.

Any special talents?

Err….not really? I guess…I can time manage pretty well. I’m getting good grades….uhh….

Ali: —KUN HADI. 😡 Noah can draw BEAUTIFUL bridges. Sadiq, stop downplaying your talents!

….Oh. Right. I can draw….but like so can any other architect, because we need to design—

Ali: —Shaaaaa sa sa sa sa. Nope. You’re talented. Your drawings are beautiful. Your art is beautiful. YOU are beautiful.

…..thanks, Ali.

Where were you born?

Georgia. I hated it there, so I moved up to Washington for college to get as far away from that side of the country as possible…I needed to get away from that small town. I don’t want to be recognized. I don’t….I don’t want to go through that again.

Do you have any pets?

No.

How tall are you?

5’6.

What is your dream job?

I’d like to be an architect. After school, I want to land a decent paying job, work from home, draft my designs…and if that doesn’t work out, I guess I can teach History lessons online so I don’t have to be with anybody. A nice home in the countryside, away from people, peace and quiet for me to sketch my prototypes.

Thank you again! Tagging (np): @autism-purgatory , @fortunatetragedy , @gioiaalbanoart , @finickyfelix , @bookish-karina , @brigidfromthecelts , @wyked-ao3 , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @zackprincebooks , @cybercelestian , @illarian-rambling , @corinneglass , +open tag for whoever wants to join!

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casually-slips-into-coma · 18 hours

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spoilers for iwtv s2e4

my thoughts after a rewatch:

i know claudia hates the baby loves window play but she ate up that little song

the lulu role really is so humiliating :(

louis’ expressions whenever he watches these plays always kills me lmao he hates theater kids

louis and armand talking over each other to daniel

armands theater notes lol

claudia no eyebrow big eyeliner look is kinda cunty ngl

im a fan of sam the irish vampire

making claudia be lulu all the time oooh armand i hate u so bad

almost threw up watching louis and armand give different answers to the companion question IN FRONT OF THE COVEN that shit was so embarrassing

i wouldve kms if i was armand

vamp catfight

armand stuck in this situationship dont worry king we’ve all been there😔

literally telling each other i love you and still having the what are we conversation

“do you notice how hot the room gets when you two talk about the secret” plsssss

louis only able to use the fire gift when hes angry👀👀 gee i wonder if thats gonna come back👀👀👀👀👀

louis going🤨🤨 to the schizophrenia question like it came out of nowhere

armands face while louis talked about dreamstat why not just shoot me in the head

loving these dutch angles whenever daniel dissociates and gets an armand memory

santiago looks so good in the gold suit? robe thing??

claudia santiago friendship is killing me santiago i know what u are

claudia killing the guy singing baby lu

i like that you can tell claudias french has gotten better. nice small detail

i love scenes of louis and claudia just talking about non vampire things

santiago mimicking louis was pretty cool

buffoon sighting!!!

whole dinner scene bangs

the guy saying theres smth “fragile” about armand in the photo louis took and louis saying “no he’s anything but” and then the guy saying “you’ve captured the soul he hides” 🤌🤌

louis would never survive a 4 hour art school critique

daniel telling a girl he’d only do her if she had a paper bag over her head??????

claudeline truthers how are we feeling

context for the eating paper clip in the trailer

romeo!!

armand is so down bad its sick

madeline tailoring a yellow dress for claudia😟😟

the whole claudeline interaction was great

amadeo☹️🔫

MARIUS KILL YOURSELF!!!!!!!

the way armand talks about marius

MARIUS KILL YOURSELF x2!!!!!!

“no one has painted me in 400 years” fuck

madeline period blood moment. theres so much here about femininity and maturing might make a separate post about this scene

armand pinning claudia against a wall armand i hate you so bad

we already know that armand is powerful but seeing him choke and manhandle santiago really solidified that i think

picked another one over me!!

delainey is ACTINGGGGG

louis not believing claudia about armand ooooh louis i hate you so bad

love makes you stupid clock it

louis still referring to claudia as his daughter in his head (thru dreamstat)

louis just actively talking to himself girl do that in your head

park bench moment <3

“wanker” i giggled sorry

that suit is his favorite on him :(

“im a little wet” and armand instantly pulling out an umbrella, armand lighting his cigarette, armand calling him maitre

louis calling him arun and armand calling him maitre and then louis throwing away the lighter this fucking scene is cinematic art

the other coven members calling santiago maitre

i kinda like that daniel can hear them arguing from another room. i feel like its a very human experience? really domestic? even given the circumstances

armands eyes were never brown!!!

san francisco flashback episode might kill me im not kidding

insane way to end the episode

ok this was much longer than i thought it would be but this episode has a lot in it. each episode gets better and better and this is definitely my favorite of the season so far.

i am LOVING louis and armands relationship and also both of their story arcs and characterizations. their dynamic is kind of the opposite of what i, and i think a lot of other people, expected but it still makes total sense and im enjoying it a lot

god i love this show

#iwtv spoilers #interview with the vampire #vampterview #louis de pointe du lac #the vampire armand #loumand #iwtv s2e4

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callyourose · 10 hours

Text

match point, chapter five.

↳ masterlist

— In which Art and Patrick find themselves intertwined with the relationship of tennis superstar Tashi Duncan and her best friend, Lennon Caddel.

LENNON CADDEL DIDN'T HATE TENNIS. She hated playing tennis. Which was an entirely different thing. She loved tennis. She just hated playing. She hated how everyone's eyes were on her while she played. She hated the way her legs felt after a match where her opponent ran her up and down the court. She hated the way her shoulder and her knees and her back had started to hurt all the time. It was ruining her. Physically and mentally. For months she had been hiding things from her parents and her best friend. She had started hiding things from her physical therapist. "Does it hurt when I press here?" They would ask. And she would shake her head no, even if it did. She cried in the shower after every match, even if she had won. She liked crying in the shower because nobody could hear her over the rush of the water and, if she tried hard enough, she could convince herself that she wasn't crying. It was just the warmth of the shower running over face. The crushing weight of Tashi and her dad's disappointment if she quit was enough to make her stay. She felt like she just needed to tough it out. If she toughed it out for a year, maybe two, Tashi and her dad would let up a little. They would let her pick up an extra hobby without shaking their heads in disappointment and telling her she needs to practice more. She was talented, incredible even. She knew that. She had known that for years. But she felt like her career was starting to plateau before it even really took off. And though she would never admit it, she was ok with that.

Patrick and Lennon didn't talk about tennis for the rest of the time they were out on the golf course. He felt terrible that he made he cry, truly. So in the three hours that they were sat shoulder to shoulder on the grass, he learned almost everything there is to know about Lennon Caddel. He asked her every question he could think of. Where she was from (San Diego), what her favorite color was (yellow), if she had any pets (one, a cat named June.) By the second hour, Lennon had all but forgotten their earlier conversation. She was throwing her head back in laughter when Patrick cracked a stupid joke and shoving him playfully when he poked fun at her. She found herself not wanting to back to her hotel and, by association, Tashi. It had been so long since she had had a conversation, a real genuine conversation, with someone who wasn't her best friend or her parents. She was learning a lot about Patrick, too. Every question he asked her, she threw right back. She wanted to know as much of him as she could. It was like if she didn't know everything about him, she would wake up from this dream of a moment.

It was 2 am by the time Tashi finally called her. Lennon was rolling on the ground, clutching her side, laughing so hard she couldn't breath, when she felt the pocket of her shorts vibrating. She knew who it was instantly. She sat up, desperately trying to catch her breath and wipe the tears in her eyes as she answered her call.

"Hello?" Lennon spoke into the phone, smacking Patrick's arm as he tried to make her laugh again.

"Where are you?" Lennon could hear the concern in her voice and she knew that no matter what she said next, Tashi would sway her to come back.

"Some golf course..." She bit her lip to contain another giggle and Patrick laughed out loud, which Tashi definitely heard. "I honestly don't know. Patrick brought me here and we've just been talking."

"Taking about what?" There was a sense of defensiveness in her tone, like she was offended that Lennon and Patrick wouldn't talk in front of her.

"Just tennis... and school." She lies. Tashi hums on the other end of the line and Lennon could feel the panic start to rise in her chest. "We were just about to head back." She glances at Patrick, his brow furrowed and a slight pout on his lips. Lennon mouths an 'I'm sorry.'

Tashi sighs. "That'd probably be best. We have to leave early in the morning, you know." Lennon could pratically see the way Tashi was sitting with her legs crossed, the phone sandwiched in between her ear and her shoulder, looking at her nails.

Lennon nods, even though she can't see. "I know... We'll be back soon. Promise."

That was a good enough answer for Tashi. So she says "Ok," and hangs up.

Lennon and Patrick were stood outside of her and Tashi's hotel room. She wasn't looking at him, subconsciously trying to avoid the disappointment she assumed was on his face. He wasn't disappointed in her, the opposite actually. He was grinning ear to ear. Their lack of time together making the time they were sharing all that more exciting.

Patrick reaches up to brush a stray hair out of her face and she looks up at him. She's shocked by the smile on his face, but she smiles back.

"When can I see you again?”

She blushes and looks away again. Patrick finds himself wanting to keep his hand on her face, to brush the pad of his thumb over the expanse of her cheek. He pulls back, albeit hesitantly, and smiles softly as she tries to find her answer.

"I'm uh, moving to Stanford in a couple days. And then I have a few matches the first week I'm there. So I'll be pretty busy..."

He nods slowly, fiddling with his fingers. He opens his mouth to speak but she beats him to it.

"But I can make time for you! If you want to, um, y'know... stop by." Her hands are shaking, the confession that she wants to see him again almost embarrassing.

He grins. "Yeah... yeah I'll come see you."

The door to the room swings open and Lennon and Patrick jump away. Tashi is standing in her pajamas, her arms crossed as she leans against the door frame. She eyes both Lennon and Patrick up and down, before locking eyes with the brunette boy. There's a sort of understanding between the two of them that Lennon picks up on. They're having an entire conversation with her eyes right in front of her, like she isn't even there.

"Are you coming in? It's so late." Tashi's voice snaps both Lennon and Patrick out of their daze. She nods and he backs away, but not before pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek. Lennon's face gets so red she almost looks sunburnt.

"Bye, Lennon. I'll see you soon, yeah?"

She's stuttering, unable to form a proper sentence. He didn't even do anything crazy, she knows that. But her entire body feels like it's on fire. She jerkily nods her head before Tashi speaks for her.

"Goodnight, Patrick." She grabs Lennon's arm and pulls her into their room, closing the door behind her.

Lennon is facing the door. She can feel Tashi's presence looming behind her. She's unsure if she's mad at her. You would think after nineteen years of friendship, she would get easier to read. But alas.

"Did you have fun?"

Lennon lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She can hear the smile in Tashi's voice and she can't help but mirror it. She turns around slowly. She's still blushing and she's biting her lip to keep from smiling so big her cheeks hurt.

"He's so fucking cute, dude." She laughs, putting her face in her hands. Tashi sits on their shared bed, her chin in her hand as she watches. She's grinning. Lennon's happiness meant the world to her. Truly. She reaches her hand out, waiting for Lennon to take it. She does and steps closer.

Tashi looks up at her, both of them just staring at each other and giggling. "I can't wait to hear all about it tomorrow."

Lennon isn't tired. She could stay up all night talking about Patrick. But she lets Tashi pull her into bed. The sooner the morning comes, the sooner she gets to talk about him.

Patrick is resting his head on the cold wood of his hotel room. His eyes are closed and he's taking deep breaths, as if he's trying to come down from a high. Art is laying on his back on the bed behind him, smoking a cigarette.

"How was it?"

Patrick whips his head around to face him and he rests his back against the door, tapping his own pack of cigarettes against the palm of his hand. "It was fun.. yeah. It was fine." His brows are furrowed as he goes to untie his shoes and Art raises his head to look directly at him.

"Did you guys talk about Stanford?"

Patrick shakes his head, biting on his lower lip. "No, no. She like..." He sighs and stands up fully before running a hand over his face. "She, like, started crying when I mentioned tennis."

Art's brows furrow, mirroring his friend. "What?" He laughs in disbelief.

The brunette shakes his head, dumbfounded. "Yeah I felt bad. Too bad to keep talking about tennis." He sheds his shirt and crawls into his bed. His hands are locked behind his head and he's staring up at the ceiling. "Did you talk to Tashi while I was gone?" He turns to look at Art, a smirk on his face.

Art smiles before reaching across the bed and throwing a pillow at him. "Why?" He laughs, dodging Patrick's attempt to get him back. "You jealous?"

#tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan smut #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut #tashi duncan x reader #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #match point #06032024 #challengers

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biframes · 3 days

Note

How are you today, and have any tips to get better at art?

I am doing ok thank you! I hope you are doing good too.

Now listen! When I was in school I hated being forced to draw fruit and vases. So boring. But when I was older I took life drawing classes (the kind with a naked model) my art improved so fast! I was amazed! It made me feel passionate about art again. Because I love to draw characters, and drawing the body helped me to do that! In a similar way, spending time around rats taught me that rats move like a little jelly blob, which made me able to capture them better.

So my advice is to focus on something specific you want to be able to draw, and look at references for that thing! If you want to improve drawing guns, study the shapes of different guns and draw them. If you want to draw cats, look at how cats move. If you want to draw clothes, look at different types of clothing! That’s all there is to it! Once you know how something works, you can draw it more easily from that knowledge! And improving at one thing will fill you with the passion to try others!

#askbox

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xhoess · 2 days

Text

Rivals in the Spotlight

Yunho!dancer × fem!bod singer

Masterlist

Y/N is a passionate singer determined to secure a scholarship, often feeling overshadowed at her performing arts school by Yunho, a confident and popular dancer, dreams of becoming a professional dancer while managing the pressure from his family's legacy. When they are cast as the leads in the school's musical, their well-known rivalry escalates, leading to strong disagreements in during the rehearsals. Will they get over their little rivalry and put up a good show?

Wc: I think around 4k

Genre: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff

It is 8 am, and I am currently riding the bus to school. Today is the day I find out who will get the leads in the new school play. I don’t know a lot of people who are participating, but I definitely know one person: Jeong Yunho. That son of a bitch always knows how to get on my nerves, especially when I’m already in my worst mood.

I feel stupid writing this down, but I’ve been doing this for so long that I feel the need to keep this stupid diary updated. Even though it’s 40 percent me complaining about Yunho, it still is a good way to express myself, I think? I look out the bus window as the familiar scenery of my neighborhood blurs past. My thoughts keep circling back to the audition. What if I actually get the lead? What if Yunho gets it too?

As I walk into the school, I feel eyes burning into my back. That only means one thing: the names are out. My heart races as I rush to the performing arts hallway. A group of people is gathering around a piece of paper on the wall. Yunho is there too. Of course.

I push through the crowd, my palms sweating. I quickly find myself standing in front of the paper, and now I get why people have been staring. Me and Yunho need to play the two leads in the play. The worst part is that we need to play a couple. I play Alice, the female lead and yunho plays Jay the male lead.

"No fucking way... I thought you would be a background singer or something," Yunho says, standing next to me, also staring at the paper.

"Shut up, Yunho. You’re as tall as a tree, might as well play one," I snap before walking away.

The rest of the day, I try my best to avoid talking to people and head straight home after school. My best friend Rina calls me as soon as I get home.

"Can you believe this?" I vent, flopping onto my bed. "Of all people, I have to play opposite Yunho. This is a nightmare."

"Maybe you can be so miserable to him that he’ll quit," Rina suggests.

"I wish," I sigh. "But he’s way too competitive to just quit."

The next morning, I wake up with a knot in my stomach. I can't avoid Yunho forever. Rehearsals start today. I arrive at the auditorium early, hoping to get a moment alone before the chaos begins. The large, empty space feels oddly comforting. I stand on the stage, looking out at the rows of empty seats, trying to imagine myself performing without wanting to throw up.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around to see Yunho walking towards me, his usual smirk replaced with a more serious expression.

"Hey," he says, surprisingly without a hint of sarcasm. "We need to talk."

I cross my arms defensively. "About what?"

"Look, I know we don't get along, but we have to make this work for the play's sake. It’s important to both of us, right?" His voice is calm, almost sincere.

I’m taken aback by his change in tone. "Yeah, I guess."

"Let’s just try to keep it professional," Yunho suggests. "We can hate each other offstage, but when we’re up here, we need to be convincing."

I nod, still wary. "Fine. But don’t think this means I’m going to make it easy for you."

He chuckles. "Wouldn’t expect anything less."

The sun is setting, casting long shadows through the tall windows of the rehearsal room. Once everyone is ready for rehearsal we start. Because this is the first rehearsal we only needed to learn the first few pages.

I see yunho get in character and that reminded me that we are going to be lovers in the end of the play.

"Okay everyone, get in place for the first scene" the director said.

I stand across from yunho and did some last warming up.

"3.. 2.. 1.... and go!"

"Alice did you hear what happened" yunho says.

The rehearsals go on for a little more, but I keep forgetting a few words in some sentences. I can feel the tension growing.

"Buy Jay, you never know what happens when you say no" I say, I realize the sentence is wrong. And yunho does too.

"You're impossible, you know that?" Yunho snaps, slamming his script onto a nearby table. "Do you even care about this play?"

I cross my arms, matching his glare. "Of course I care! But you’re not the director, Yunho. Stop acting like you know everything and let's just continue"

He steps closer, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Someone has to take charge when you keep messing up your lines!"

My fists clench at my sides. "I wouldn’t mess up if you weren’t constantly trying to outdo everyone. This isn’t a solo performance, Yunho. It’s a team effort."

Yunho scoffs, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You just can’t handle that I’m better at this than you."

"Better?" I laugh bitterly. "Your ego is so big, I’m surprised you can fit through the door."

He narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. "At least I put in the effort. All you do is complain and act like a victim."

My blood boils, and I take a step forward, refusing to back down. "You think you’re so perfect, don’t you? Always criticizing everyone else to make yourself look good."

"Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time practicing, we wouldn’t have these problems," he shoots back.

I feel my face flush with anger. "You’re such a jerk, Yunho. No wonder no one likes working with you."

For a moment, there’s silence, the words hanging heavily in the air. Yunho’s expression falters slightly, a flicker of hurt crossing his face before it hardens again.

"You don’t know anything about me," he says quietly, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. "You’re so wrapped up in your own little world, you can’t see past your own nose."

I open my mouth to retort, but the words catch in my throat. We stand there, breathing heavily, the room suddenly feeling too small, too stifling.

Finally, Yunho breaks the silence, his voice cold. "If you can’t handle this, maybe you should quit."

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. "Maybe I will," I manage to say, my voice shaking. "At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with you."

We stare at each other for a moment longer before I turn on my heel and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me. My heart is pounding, a mix of anger and something else I can’t quite name. As I walk down the empty hallway, I can’t help but wonder if things will ever get better between us.

Yunho is left there standing, regretting some words he said.

The cool evening air hits my face as I storm out of the auditorium, my anger still simmering beneath the surface. I find a bench near the entrance and collapse onto it, trying to catch my breath. The sky is tinged with the pinks and purples of twilight, but I’m too wrapped up in my thoughts to appreciate the beauty.

"Why does he have to be such a jerk?" I mutter to myself, kicking a small pebble with my shoe.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a message from Rina.

**Rina:** Hey, how did rehearsal go? Any updates?

I hesitate before replying, not sure how to put my frustration into words.

**Me:** It was a disaster. Yunho and I had a huge fight. Again.

Her response is almost immediate.

**Rina:** Ugh, that sucks. Want to talk about it?

**Me:** Maybe later. I just need to cool down right now.

**Rina:** Okay, just remember, you’re amazing and you can handle this. Don’t let him get to you.

I smile slightly at her words, feeling a bit better. Rina always knows how to make me feel better.

The next day:

The cafeteria is buzzing with activity as I navigate my way through the crowd, holding my lunch tray. I spot Rina at our usual table and make my way over, sliding into the seat across from her.

"Hey," she says, giving me a sympathetic look. "You look exhausted."

I sigh, poking at my food. "Didn’t sleep much. Just kept thinking about everything that happened."

She nods, taking a bite of her sandwich. "Yunho really knows how to push your buttons, huh?"

"Yeah," I agree, feeling the frustration bubble up again. "I don’t get it. One minute he’s trying to be all professional, and the next he’s tearing me down."

"Maybe he’s just stressed," Rina suggests. "This play is a big deal for everyone."

"Maybe," I concede, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. "But it’s like he enjoys making me miserable."

Before Rina can respond, I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"Can we talk?"

I turn to see Yunho standing there, looking unusually serious. Rina raises an eyebrow, but I nod, getting up from the table. We move to a quieter corner of the cafeteria.

"What do you want, Yunho?" I ask, crossing my arms defensively.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Look, about yesterday... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to get so heated."

I blink, taken aback. This is not the Yunho I’m used to. "You’re... apologizing?"

"Yeah," he says, looking genuinely uncomfortable. "I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you’re right. I’ve been acting like a jerk."

I stare at him, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

He shrugs, looking away. "I guess I realized that we’re stuck with each other for this play, and if we keep fighting, it’s going to ruin everything. For both of us."

His words make sense, but it’s hard to let go of the anger so quickly. "So, what do you suggest?"

"Truce?" he offers, holding out his hand. "Let’s try to make this work. For the sake of the play."

I hesitate for a moment before shaking his hand. "Truce."

At the Rehearsal Room, Late Afternoon:

Back in the rehearsal room, there’s a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Yunho and I still have our differences, but we’re making an effort to be civil. Our scenes start to flow better, the tension easing with each passing day.

One evening, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, I find myself sitting on the edge of the stage next to Yunho. We’re both exhausted but there’s a sense of accomplishment in the air.

"You know," I say, breaking the comfortable silence, "I never thought I’d say this, but we’re actually doing pretty well."

Yunho smiles, a genuine one this time. "Yeah, who would’ve thought?"

This new feeling was brewing in my chest, it wasn't hatred, it was far from that.

"You know I never meant to be harsh the other day" yunho says, looking down at his shoes that are hanging off the side of the stage.

"Its okay, I said some mean stuff to you too." You lift your shoulders a little while saying. "I really need this play to go well so I can have a higher chance of getting a scholarship. That's why I was getting pissed off by you" I say.

"My parents always expect the best of me, just because they were the best in their days doesn't mean I am. I guess that's why I got so angry at you for saying I wasn't a team player." Yunho sighs ".. I really try to be but sometimes my parents just get into my head and make me forget this is not a contest"

I frown at his story, it's sad that he can't express his passion the way he wants.

I stand up and hold my hand out for yunho. He looks up confused but grabs it, I pull him up and say "you need to enjoy this yunho, talk to your parents about it. It is your life and it should be fun while you're here" I say with a soft voice, not realizing that our hands are still together.

He suddenly pulls me into a hug which caught me off guard. "Thank you y/n. You're not so bad after all" I hear him whisper.

The morning of the play:

"Ahh! How are you feeling? Today’s the day!" Rina exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement as she walks next to me.

I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. "I’m feeling really good about all this. Not only will this improve my chances of getting a scholarship, but it’s also helped Yunho and me forgive each other."

We turn a corner, and my heart skips a beat when I see Yunho standing there, talking to one of his friends. I’m about to wave when I catch his words.

"I don't know, man. She is so annoying. I can't handle it any longer. I'm happy this act is all over after tonight."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Tears well up in my eyes. How could he say that after everything we’ve been through? After the connection we shared the other night?

Rina notices my change in demeanor immediately. "What’s wrong?"

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just heard Yunho saying he can't stand me and he's glad this is all over after tonight."

Rina's eyes widen in shock, then narrow in anger. "What? That can’t be right. That son of a bitch"

I nod, biting my lip to keep from crying. "I don’t know if I can go through with this tonight, acting like everything is fine. This play has done nothing but be stressfull, I'm done"

Rina takes my hand, her grip firm and comforting. "Listen, I know this hurts, but quitting now isn’t the answer. You’ve worked too hard to let this ruin it. Just hold on a little longer, don't say or do anything you will regret later" she said "I'll be right back just don't do anything okay?"

I nod, trying to take comfort in her words, but the ache in my chest remains. I steal another glance at Yunho, who’s laughing at something his friend said

Later that day in the school's hallway:

“That jerk,” she mutters, clenching her fists. “I can’t believe he said that about you after everything you two have been through.”

I shrug, trying to act indifferent, but the hurt is clear in my eyes. “It’s fine, Rina. Let’s just get through tonight.”

“No, it’s not fine,” she snaps, standing up abruptly.

Before I can stop her, Rina storms across the hallway, heading straight for Yunho. My heart races, and I quickly follow her, catching snippets of her angry muttering.

“Rina, wait!” I call out, but she’s already reached Yunho and his group.

“Hey, Yunho!” Rina’s voice cuts through the chatter, silencing the group. Yunho looks up, surprised.

“Rina? What’s up?”

“What’s up?” she repeats, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll tell you what’s up. How dare you talk about Y/N like that behind her back?”

Yunho’s brows furrow in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Rina spits, crossing her arms. “Y/N heard you this morning, calling her annoying and saying you’re glad this is all over after tonight. How could you, after everything you two have been through?”

Yunho’s face pales, realization dawning on him. “Wait, that’s not what I—”

“Oh, save it!” Rina cuts him off, her anger palpable. “She thought you were friends, that you understood each other. But you’re just a two-faced jerk!”

By now, a small crowd has gathered, watching the confrontation unfold. I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment and hurt, but I don’t stop Rina. She’s saying everything I wish I had the courage to say.

“Rina, please,” Yunho tries again, his voice pleading. “You’ve got it all wrong. I wasn’t talking about Y/N like that.”

“Then who were you talking about?” Rina demands, her eyes blazing.

Yunho takes a deep breath, looking around at the crowd before focusing on Rina. “I was talking about the director, I was talking to my friend about how I’ve been feeling overwhelmed by her, she has been on my toes the last few rehearsals. And plus if I had to say something mean to y/n I would just say it to hee face, I've done it the last few years.”

Rina’s anger falters, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face "Oh, well this is awkward" she said while laughing awkwardly.

That evening:

A buzz of excitement fills the air as students, teachers, and parents take their seats in the auditorium. Backstage, the cast is a whirlwind of activity, making final adjustments to costumes and props. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of nerves and exhilaration. I peek through the curtain and see the audience settling in. This is it. Months of hard work, late nights, and overcoming differences have led to this moment.

Yunho stands next to me, adjusting his costume. He looks at me and smiles, a warm, genuine smile that sends a flutter through my stomach. "You ready?"

I nod, trying to steady my breath. "Ready as I'll ever be."

The romance scene is next up —the moment where our characters, after a series of misunderstandings and conflicts, finally confess their love. The lines have become second nature, but tonight, something feels different. There's an electricity in the air, a deeper connection that wasn’t there during rehearsals.

As Yunho and I move through our lines, the world around us fades away. It's just the two of us on stage, our characters’ emotions mirroring our own unspoken feelings. Yunho steps closer, his character's confession blending seamlessly with his own emotions.

"I've been thinking a lot about us," he says, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "And I realized something important. I can't imagine my life without you."

My heart races as I respond, my own feelings bubbling to the surface. "I feel the same way. You’ve challenged me, pushed me, and made me better. I’ve never felt this way before."

Yunho takes my hand, and the touch sends a spark through me. He looks into my eyes, and for a moment, it’s as if time stands still. "I love you," he says, I know it's just his character speaking. But it's feels a little too real.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I whisper, "I love you too."

The curtain falls, and the audience erupts into applause. We take our bows, the adrenaline still coursing through our veins. Backstage, the cast congratulates each other, but all I can think about is Yunho.

I find him in a quiet corner, away from the chaos. He looks up as I approach, a soft smile on his face "hey"

"Hey" I reply

"That was... incredible" He says, stepping closer.

I could smell his perfume, he was standing so close. It made My heart beat a lot faster. "It really was..."

He looks down and meet my eyes, we don't say anything but we both feel what's about to come. "Would you like to go somewhere private..?" He asks, his voice low.

I nod, "I would like that"

He grabs my hand and we walk towards the drama room. The place where it all began. The room is quiet and dark, the only source of light is the moonlight that is shining through the tall windows.

Yunho closes the door behind us, and the click of the lock seems to tighten the tension even more. We stand there for a moment, just looking at each other in silence.

He moves closer, his hand moving away a piece of my hair.

His lips meet mine, it starts of soft but quickly deepens. His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer until there is no more space left between us.

We pull away, stading there breathlessly. And yunhos eyes search mine. A silent question hanging in the air. I nod, giving him my answer without him having to ask it.

He leads me to the small couch in to corner of the room, we sink down on soft cushions, his hands move gently over the curves of my body. I lay one of my hands on his bicep, he tenses up under my touch and his muscles tighten.

Yunho reconnects the kiss again, this time it's with hunger and passion. He slowly slides his hand under my shirt, cupping one of my breasts. The warmth of his hand tingling on my skin.

I gasp when he pulls my shirt over my head and throws it on the floor. Exposing me to the cool air. He lowers his head and starts to kiss me all over my body "you're so beautiful" He murmurs against my skin.

I blush, my hands start to unbutton his shirt revealing his chest. He shrugs himself out of the fabric and I move my hands over his skin.

We're now left in our underwear, Yunho's hand moves down, his fingers teasing the edge of my panties before slipping under the material. When his finger enters me, a groan escapes my lips, muffled by our kiss.

He takes my reaction as encouragement, adding another finger and moving in and out in a steady movement. The sensation of his fingers moving in and out of me sends waves of pleasure through my body, and I arch my back, pressing closer to him.

"Yunho," I whisper, my voice breathy and filled with need.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes locking onto mine, dark with desire. "Does this feel good?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Yes," I moan, my hands gripping his shoulders for support.

Yunho's free hand trails up my side, his touch light and teasing. He kisses a path down my neck, his lips leaving a burning trail on my skin. As his fingers continue their rhythm, he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. The combined sensations are almost too much, and I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Yunho, I need you," I manage to say between ragged breaths.

He looks up at me, his expression a mix of tenderness and desire. "I need you too," he whispers.

With a final, lingering kiss, he pulls his fingers out and helps me out of the last of our clothing. We pause for a moment, just taking in the sight of each other, the intimacy of the moment deepening our connection.

Yunho gently lays me back on the couch, positioning himself above me. He takes a condom from his wallet, and with a quick, practiced motion, he rolls it on. His eyes meet mine, seeking one last confirmation.

I nod, my heart pounding with a mix of nerves and anticipation. "I'm ready."

He aligns himself with me, and as he slowly enters, we both gasp at the sensation. He moves with care, giving us both time to adjust. Once he’s fully inside, he pauses, our foreheads touching as we share a moment of stillness

Yunho starts to move, it's slow at first but once I wrapped my legs around his waist he couldn't hold back any longer. A groan escaped from his lips and he fastened his pace.

His hands roam over my body, caressing and teasing, driving me closer to the edge. I can feel the tension building, the knot tightening inside of me.

"Yunho I'm close" I whisper against his neck.

"Me too" He says, his voice strained with his pleasure.

The sound of our breathing is getting heavier and faster. With a final trust I feel a wave of pleasure wash over me, yunho throws his head back when he feels my juices spilling over his cock. That is enough to send him over the edge too. Our moans filling the silent room.

We collapse together, yunho holds me close. His breath warm against my skin as we come down from the high.

"I think I like you y/n" yunho said, pressing a soft kiss against my forehead.

"I like you too yunho" I whisper back.

We lie there for a little longer, wrapped in each other's arms. And that's when I realized that this moment was the beginning of something beautiful.

#yunho smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #ateez smut #smut #ateez #ateez fanfic #romance fiction #romance #dance #theatre #love #fluff #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #yunho fic #yunho #trending

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tarotofbadkitties · 2 days

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Hate to disappoint Team "Art and Patrick are gay and would have been happier if they ran away together", but that was never going to happen. What would have happened if she hadn't given them the space to express their desire for one another is they would have stayed friends only a short while longer and then lost contact on purpose. The reason they would have done this is because they were both in turmoil over their attraction to one another. If they were gay, they would have had no choice but to deal with that directly. But the thing is...they're not gay, they're bisexual.

Which means that, while they can't choose who to be attracted to, they can choose to only act on their attraction to women, and simply avoid men they're attracted to. For example, one another. That subconscious desire to avoid one another is what made Patrick and Art make different post-high school choices, IMO. My read is that Patrick was consciously aware of his feelings towards Art and already desperate to not spend another 4 years trapped in a bedroom with a man he can't touch by the time we met them. Patrick hesitates to swipe on the man on Tinder even in present day; I think the fandom is over-estimating how comfortable Patrick and Art are with this aspect of themselves. Tashi gave them a safe, non-judgmental space to express their desire for each other, and she also brought them back together again after they parted ways. The space she makes for them to openly want each other without getting lost in the weeds of Gay Panic is essential to them feeling free enough to go for it with one another.

#challengers #bisexuality #art x patrick #art x patrick x tashi #internalized biphobia #tashi is the first person to both see their desire for one another and tell them it's okay #she has to nearly bust them out of the closet with a hatchet like it's the shining #tashi duncan

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fagtainsparklez · 14 days

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#icarus speaks #dorm life #neg #I HATE ART SCHOOL I HATE ART SCHOOL I HATE ART SCHOOL #you’re not being delulu you’re fucking trying to recall something #one of these days i will wipe the word delulu from humanity’s consciousness #and i think we will finally achieve world peace then and only then

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inkskinned · 8 months

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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

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