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neptunianmuse · 1 year

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Spouse in D1 Chart✨

Look at your d1 Vedic chart. Check where your 7th house ruler is. Here is a list of the signs and their rulers if you’re not sure !! Aries/Scorpio: Mars Taurus/Libra: Venus Gemini/Virgo: Mercury Cancer: Moon Leo: Sun Sagittarius/Pisces: Jupiter Capricorn/Aquarius: Saturn I'm gonna try to describe each placement to the best of my ability. This is just from what I've learned over time and some placements I just pieced together to figure out its meaning.

In The Houses

Seventh House ruler in the First House: Your spouse may be very attractive and confident, with prominent facial features, like a defined jawline or nose. They have a very assertive and demanding vibe. Athletic. You might meet them at a fashion show, the gym, or on a walk. They might be popular among their group.

Seventh House ruler in the Second House: Your spouse might have a very classic style, wear earthy tones, or have expensive taste. They can also be financially stable. Realistic. Committed. You might meet them at work if you work in a business-related field, at family gatherings like your cousin or family member might pyo with them (this is an observation I'm not 100% sure), or a bank.

Seventh House ruler in the Third House: Your spouse might have a youthful appearance/ look younger than their age. Or they can be actually younger than you or they act immature. Jovial. Smart. Communicative. You might meet them at school, on a road trip, or when you go on a short trip somewhere (not overseas), online. The third house rules over siblings so you might get to know them through siblings or they can be your sibling's friend.

Seventh House ruler Fourth House: Your spouse will have a very nurturing and comforting appearance. Your spouse will be a softy and approachable. They could be the person people go to for everything. They have a very warm personality. You could meet them anywhere home-related, Or a place you go to that brings you comfort. It can be an arranged marriage if that's something popular in your culture.

Seventh House ruler in the Fifth House: Your spouse could be very fashionable or enjoy fashion/art-related stuff. Very creative. Very playful vibe about them. Might enjoy same hobbies. Attractive. They could be egotistical too but not always. You could meet them at a concert, theatre, art exhibit, party, at a club. It could also be Clubs you join, literally anywhere where you pursue your hobbies.

Seventh House ruler in the Sixth House: Your spouse can be somewhere who cares about their health and physique a lot. Very organized person. Someone who has an established daily routine. Very Good hygiene. You might meet them where you work, at fitness centers, or anywhere health-related. Like a hospital perhaps. Could meet them while you're doing your daily routine, like if you go to the store every day you might meet them there.

Seventh House ruler in the Seventh House: Your spouse can have a proportionate body or a symmetrical face. Attractive spouse. Hates unfairness. Well dressed. Sophisticated vibe. Graceful. Timeless Style. Very charming. Nice Smile. Straight teeth. You can meet them in a place that's aesthetically pleasing. Weddings. Social gatherings. Elegant place. Art Gallery. Through a mutual friend.

Seventh House ruler in the Eighth House: Your spouse will have a very Intense and magnetic appearance. They might attract obsessed people, but they also might be obsessive themselves. Alluring. Captivating eyes. Mysterious. They can be attracted to the occult. You can meet them in places related to money or investments. Anywhere spiritual related. A funeral maybe? that's like the worst place to meet someone. Or at a cemetery.

Seventh House ruler in the Ninth House: Your spouse will be very philosophical. They can have big facial features, like a big nose or forehead. They might have more than one cultural background. Also can mean they're foreign. Adventurous. Can speak more than one language. You might meet them at college/university or while traveling. They are open-minded and love to learn about other cultures. They can have the same spiritual/religious beliefs as you.

Seventh House ruler in the Tenth House: Your spouse will be very career-oriented. They look very professional. Very Ambitious. Responsible. You might meet them at career-related things, maybe like a career fair, In public, or networking events. They can work as a manager or in a leadership position. They care about their public image. Could be Famous.

Seventh House ruler in the Eleventh House: Your spouse can be a very friendly person. They might have a lot of friends. A social butterfly. They are approachable people. Always smiling, they also have a warm smile. You can meet them at places where you're doing group activities, online, or community service, you can also meet them through friends. They might also be part of your friend group. Friends to lovers trope.

Seventh House ruler in the Twelfth House: Your spouse will look very dreamy. Their eyes might look like a Disney character. Very ethereal appearance. They can be spiritual or interested in spirituality. They can look like sirens/have siren qualities, they're very alluring and attract people because of it. You can meet them near bodies of water. You can also meet them when you're doing meditation/yoga. While you're going through your spiritual awakening. They can be foreign and/or different religion than you.

#astrology #birth chart #astro community #astro notes #astrology aspects #zodiac #astro observations #vedic astrology #vedic astro notes #d1 chart #spouse in astrology #astro #natal chart #astro posts #seventh house #astrology tumblr

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waltzingwithyourenemyattheball · 1 year

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PICK A CARD: HOW WILL YOU MEET YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE?

Top Left: 111 ; Top Right: 222; Bottom: 333

Disclaimer:

Take what resonates and leave the rest.

The disclaimer in pinned post applies here too.

No one is allowed to copy my work under any circumstances.

DM for personal readings.

🥀111🥀

You could meet your partner through a woman, (be it a mother, friend) an expressive and creative woman. She could be a neighbour, married women or someone who has light within them and the ability to spread light, a woman in love with life, could paint or do arts and crafts, could like sewing too. You guys could meet in some class/workshop you both are taking. One of you may not want to be here. You could meet at an art exhibition, museums, while shopping etc. Another possible location is at the park, where you run or jog. Either or both of you are into fitness, if not you will be at the time you meet them and will be taking care of yourself. Definitely at a public place, could be party where they are your friend’s friends, there is dancing, food and things fun, people will be taking among themselves. Happy positive energy, one of you likes to talk. Yes, I am seeing you’ll meet them when you are satisfied and fulfilled with how your life is going, could be 9 months from now. You could also meet them in march or May next year. You are confident, vibing, and they will show up suddenly when you least expect it. First meeting, they’ll notice you for a while before approaching you, they come across flirty, graceful, and put their best foot forward. Definitely a pleasant meeting. The meeting could end up being open-ended, like you may not have set a time to meet again, no one’s asked anyone out on a date, simply exchanged numbers/social media’s. You two might also end up going at the same bakery and meet again. They do have an offer for you but it will take some time before things become official. Don’t be disheartened, this is your future spouse so you guys definitely do end up together.

Comment ‘111’ to claim.

🌸222🌸

In class, a learning institution, could have meet in school, colleges, coaching centres, any hobby classes you take etc, but you are definitely here to learn and practice. These could be online workshops/certificate classes as well. It took you blood sweat and tears to pay for this course, it is something you have wanted to do for a long time, you know you are good, naturally talented. I am getting Annabeth from Percy Jackson, those vibes. You could meet at a martial arts academy, or even the gym. He is the new guy. Again, someone struggled to get where they are today(at the point you meet them). I am getting the same messages again, learning centre, through teachers too. You might be in the same group/team for projects, paired up together every time. You both will learn together, grow together. You will learn giving people benefit of the doubt, and becoming soft, not always having your guard up. You will be passionate about what you are doing, love is not even on your mind and you’d rather just focus on something else but it will creep up on you slowly, like the sea touches the shore take a step back before merging again, during the course of time the lines will get blurry, from I had dinner with them because practice ran late to ‘Hey, you want to get dinner together?’ With no compulsion of any situation. Slowly you will reach out to them, it will morph into a friendship with a small crush to your partner for life, it’s a slow burn but it’s worth it.

Comment ‘222’ to claim.

🌻333🌻

It will take a way for your union. Right now you need to develop into your authentic self, become more of yourself and express that. You feel unfulfilled and incomplete, you think finding a partner will solve all things, some of you are up and down the curve, on one day you literally can’t live without your soulmate and are dying for them to magically appear in your life to who cares? I just want to focus on me, my career, and money. There is loneliness in your heart. I hear that your future spouse is not currently decided which is a good thing, the more you evolve, the more evolved person you will attract as your future spouse. You could meet them during grocery shopping, buy plants, getting your salary, when you are living the life you want to life like in an apartment with many plants, some art, mainly white with pops of color all around. I am seeing Europe for some of you. You could meet them after a life changing decision you took, it could be pack up your bags and move across the world. You will not be staying where you are right now that’s for sure. You are taking a chance on life and loving it. After this everything will start to get better, feel better. You are buying flowers for no reason and getting your chai/coffee, dressing up everyday. Everything is so colourful suddenly, that’s when you meet them. This is a new person, no toxic exes here. You literally are living your best life, laughing, hanging out with friends, genuine happiness, good bed time, someone who can’t wait to wake up to their new life, that is when you’ll know your future spouse is ready to come into your life and they ARE MATCHING YOUR ENERGY.

Comment ‘333’ to claim.

EL TAROT

#pick a picture #pick a photo #pick an image #pac reading #pick a card reading #ask response #pick a pile #pick a card #pac tarot #free tarot #future spouse pick a card #future spouse

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astroa3h · 7 months

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where you'll meet your soulmate

I know this is fairly vague when it comes to astrology and how intricate of an art it can be, especially when it comes to the placement of Juno. But I find this to be pretty spot on when it comes to the dreamy meet cute you have with your destined one.

Juno in the 1st House: Picture this - you're shining bright, maybe you're on stage, or it's your birthday bash. There’s laughter, music, and bam! Your eyes lock with theirs across the room. It's electric, like a scene from a movie. Love at first sight? Heck yeah. This isn't a slow burn; it's fireworks from the get-go. Imagine meeting the one person who sees you, the real you, in a crowd of faces. That’s your moment.

Juno in the 2nd House: Imagine casually browsing through a bookstore or maybe hustling at a side gig, and there they are. Maybe they're helping you pick out the perfect gift, or you’re laughing over a bizarre find at a flea market. This connection is built on the simple things in life, like sharing a passion or working on something that matters to both of you. It’s the shared smiles and the teamwork that makes the dream work.

Juno in the 3rd House: Ever met someone and felt like you’ve known them forever? That’s Juno in the 3rd for you. It could be a friend of a friend, someone from the neighborhood, or that person you keep bumping into online because you laugh at the same memes. This could also be a childhood friend. It's the comfort of familiarity, the ease of a conversation that never ends. It’s like finding a missing piece you weren’t even aware you were looking for.

Juno in the 4th House: This is all about home, heart, and heritage. Imagine finding your soulmate at a family gathering or through a connection so deeply rooted in your past, it feels fated. It could be a cozy dinner, a traditional celebration, or through the meddling of your mom playing cupid. This soulmate brings a sense of belonging, a feeling of coming home, no matter where you are.

Juno in the 5th House: Think laughter, creativity, and a dash of spontaneity. Meeting your soulmate while you’re living your best life, maybe at a concert, an art exhibit, or while coaching little league. It’s those moments of pure joy and abandon, where you meet someone who makes your heart race faster than a rollercoaster ride. It’s about finding love in the midst of living passionately.

Juno in the 6th House: Here, love finds you in the midst of your daily grind. It could be that new colleague, someone you meet at a fitness class, or even a fellow volunteer. This is about finding someone who fits into your life like the perfect puzzle piece, making every day brighter and every routine special. It’s the beauty in the ordinary, the love that grows in shared routines and little acts of care.

Juno in the 7th House: Picture meeting your soulmate at a wedding, It's where you least expect it, in the midst of celebrating love, you find your own. It could be a plus-one that was meant to be your plus-one forever. This is about partnerships, the undeniable pull towards someone who complements you perfectly, in ways you hadn’t even dared to dream of. I sometimes find you may even find your soulmate through an ex partner with this placement.

Juno in the 8th House: This is deep, the kind of connection that happens in the quiet, unexpected moments. Maybe it’s someone you meet in a place where you both show your vulnerabilities, or perhaps during a time of transformation. You could be intoxicated or under the influence when you meet. It’s a soul-stirring, intense connection that feels predestined, a love that’s as profound as the ocean and just as mysterious.

Juno in the 9th House: Imagine crossing paths with your soulmate in a setting that screams adventure and growth. It could be a study abroad program, a spiritual journey, or just a random seminar that you both decided to attend on a whim. This is about finding someone who shares your thirst for knowledge, adventure, and the quest for meaning in life. It’s about expanding your horizons, together.

Juno in the 10th House: Here’s where your ambitions and your heart align. Meeting your soulmate in a context that’s all about achieving your life’s purpose, maybe at a conference, through a mentor, or while making your mark on the world. It’s about finding someone who not only shares your dreams but is ready to build an empire with you. This love story is about legacy, ambition, and a shared vision for the future.

Juno in the 11th House: This is the meet-cute you didn’t see coming. A friend’s party, a community event, or that random encounter at a party. It’s about connection, friendship, and shared ideals. Finding your soul mate here means finding someone who gets you on a level that's almost telepathic. It’s about shared laughs, mutual friends becoming mutual admirers, and feeling like you’ve found your tribe with this person by your side.

Juno in the 12th House: This is where souls connect on a celestial level. Imagine a tranquil setting, a spiritual retreat, or a place where you're seeking peace, and there they are. This connection is ethereal, almost like recognizing a soul from a past life. It’s a love that transcends time and space, wrapping you in a sense of calm and belonging that’s hard to put into words.

xox astro ash ✨ Get your own Juno Soulmate Reading @ astroash.net TikTok - astroa3h

#astrology #astrology readings #astrology aspects #natal chart #astrologer #astro observations #astro notes #astro community #astrology blog #daily astrology #astrology houses #horoscopes #zodiac #astro placements #birth chart #juno #soulmate

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 year

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The Art of Turning 30

“So, am I allowed to talk?” Annabelle gave an awkward little laugh, that she immediately wanted to stuff back into her mouth. “I’ve never done this before!”

“You can talk.” Julian flashed her a quick, reassuring smile. “At least until I tell you not to.”

They both laughed, then. Julian’s laugh was not awkward.

It was six months until her thirtieth birthday.

She had met him at her girlfriend Camille’s twenty-ninth birthday party, a few weeks ago, only to be surprised that they’d somehow never crossed paths before. London was big, but it wasn’t that big surely, and Julian was an artist.

Annabelle felt like she spent half her free time at artsy bohemian parties and amateur gallery openings, though maybe that was why. He wasn’t an amateur, was he?

She’d looked him up online after and seen several shining reviews of his first exhibition, and a rosy buzz of anticipation at what he’d do next.

She remembered that buzz. People used to get that buzz when they talked about her. Apparently, his work was ‘visceral’ and ‘felt startlingly alive’.

It seemed impossible that he wanted to paint her, of all people.

Annabelle shifted on the stool, glancing around Julian’s studio space as he finished setting up his easel and paints. Oils. He’d said he was using oils. That mattered in painting, didn’t it?

The studio was everything she’d always imagined a professional artist’s studio to be. It was quite large, with clean wooden floors and white walls crowded with stacks of sheet-covered canvases in progress.

There was only one that was ready and visible; a painting of a beautiful blond man, probably nearing thirty too, lounging on the same stool that Annabelle was perched upon. He gazed out at the viewer with a hungry sort of hope. Like they were the best thing he had ever seen.

The studio smelled like drying paint and the sandalwood diffuser wafting its calming scent from the window sill. Sunlight coated the room like honey, or gold.

“You’re not going to make me look ugly, are you?” she asked.

He smiled again, meeting her eyes. “I couldn’t possibly.”

He probably flirted with all of his models, but she still felt a blush of heat rise to her face.

He looked like he could be in a painting, or one of those classical sculptures still concerned with archetypal ideals of beauty. Of course, she was with Camille, so nothing would happen…but still. The attention made her heart pound. Camille was usually too tired from work to flirt with her anymore.

Annabelle wasn’t sure how good she’d be at seeing a painting of herself that she hated, and not letting it show on her face. She’d probably tear up. It would be embarrassing for both of them. She shifted on the stool once more, and tugged at the hem of her summer dress.

“This is for your next exhibition?”

“I think I’m going to call it ‘The Art of Turning 30’.”

“Explains why I’m your muse instead of some gorgeous twenty two year old ingenue.” She laughed again. He did not. She continued, even as she willed herself to stop babbling, because he wasn’t looking at her with the expectation that she do anything. He plucked up a pencil, beginning his work. “It’s like, when you’re a woman, after you turn thirty your life is over, right? It’s like with my acting. And then by the time you’re forty all of a sudden all you can possibly be is, like, a mother or a witch. Or, you know, the dead wife. It’s all downhill.”

“You wouldn’t want to be a witch?” He raised a brow. “They always seemed pretty powerful to me. I could see you as a witch.”

“But do you know what I mean?”

“Can you turn your head a little the left, please?”

“What? Oh. Yes.”

She turned her head to the side, towards the window, and hoped the sunshine made her seem younger rather than highlighting every growing crag and wrinkle.

She could only watch him out of her periphery vision now; a wistful muse, seemingly unaware that she was being observed. She tried to look deep and mysterious.

“Perfect,” he said. “Thanks. You’re just perfect.”

The canvas of the blond man fell to the floor with a soft thump.

Annabelle jumped.

“Sorry.” Julian shook his head, another easy laugh on his breath. “The landlord never lets me put proper hangings on the wall here. Says it wrecks them. I guess so long as they don’t do that at the exhibition?”

“I don’t know, you could probably play it off as a stunt…lean into the photorealism.”

“Now, there’s an idea. Genius.”

She probably didn’t look deep and mysterious. She probably just looked smitten.

***

She sat for Julian three times a week for the next several months.

It became a pocket of peace in her life, the hours when it was okay to finally stop and be for a while, because everything else seemed to be hurtling through her fingers faster than she could clutch hold of it.

She’d always imagined that she would be a successful, or at least up-and-coming, actress and screenwriter by the time she turned thirty.

Sure, women only made up around 30% of the directors or writers behind the camera, but back in school everyone always said that maybe she’d be the one to change that. She wasn’t entirely sure when they stopped saying it, but they had.

It was three months until her thirtieth birthday.

“Here.” Julian caught hold of her chin, featherlight, angling her back towards the sun. The days were getting shorter. Time was running out for them both. “You were like this.”

She had got in the habit of always sitting a little wrong, because he’d always adjust her, oh so careful and attentive, like she was his masterpiece.

She would have probably preferred to be her own masterpiece, but being his seemed like the second best option. She could practically feel the ghosts of forgotten, underappreciated female muses-past screaming at her that no, it was always better to be somebody than someone’s, but frankly she wasn’t sure she could be picky.

She’d been getting less and less call backs, and was starting to feel more like she was a part-time waitress dabbling at film than a part-time actress-filmmaker working hours in hospitality to make ends meet.

It was like a window was closing. Her window. That morning she’d found an honest to the devil grey hair on her head!

Camille told her that she was being ridiculous – that she’d become increasingly vain since Julian started painting her.

Annabelle had snapped back that vanity wasn’t vanity for an actress. Her looks were her currency.

It hadn’t always been so hard, had it?

All in all, it didn’t seem like a sin to let him touch her. It was nice to be touched. There was nothing untoward in that.

She peeked up at Julian, standing over her, his star ever on the rise. Their stares met again. He smiled that quick, reassuring smile of his.

“You look tired,” he said softly.

“Sorry.”

“No, no.” He widened his eyes. “I didn’t mean—” he huffed gently, and let go of her. “I haven’t got to your mouth yet. If you want to talk about it.”

Annabelle grinned back before she could stop herself.

It had become a standing joke. She sometimes felt she spent their whole time together talking about herself, but he always said it was interesting and made the hours fly. He was a very good listener.

More privately, she sometimes suspected that he was leaving her mouth for last just so they could continue chatting, but she wasn’t allowed to see the painting to check. The thought was thrilling though.

“It’s nothing,” she said, even if she already knew she’d probably tell him everything on her mind. “I don’t know.”

What would she do when the painting was done? She’d see him at his exhibition opening, probably, but there would hardly be a reason for them spend time together like they did when she was sitting for her portrait.

Maybe it was silly to consider him one of her friends. She’d miss it, though. She’d miss him.

Maybe he’d want to do another one of her, but who was she kidding? Maybe in ten years, when he did a gimmicky but charming follow up. The Art of Turning 40: Where Are They Now?

What did he know about turning thirty anyway? He couldn’t be more than twenty-five. He had loads of time.

“There’s an intimacy,” he murmured, “to painting someone. Especially like this, in the old fashioned way. A lot of people use photographs and quick studies because they’re more convenient and you don’t have to catch the right light, you know? But I love it.” The air filled with their breathing, and the soothing dab of his paint brushes on his palette, mixing up the colours of her. “You really get to know people this way. It adds soul to the work. It’s magic.”

She felt, more than saw, his gaze cut over her again. Her blood was electric beneath his scrutiny.

He continued, softly.

“I knew from the moment we met that I wanted you to be my centrepiece for this one.”

“Flatterer.”

“It’s true!” He laughed. “You have this great energy. I knew you were going to be interesting, and I was right. And you know how to model well. Because you’re an actress, right? You’re used to people looking at you.”

An actress, no ‘wannabe’ or ‘aspiring’ or ‘failed’ tacked on front. She couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him as best she could without turning her head.

“My boss always says I should have more energy, then I’d wait tables faster.”

“What does Camille say?”

“Camille—” Annabelle blinked in surprise, then swallowed. Her hands curled in her lap. She resisted the urge to sigh.

“Uh-oh.”

“No, no,” she said. “It’s fine. I just – she thinks if I’m not happy I should do something about it. She’s always telling me about other things I’d be really good at that have better pay, or more sociable hours.”

“So, give up on your dreams already.”

“Yeah.”

Annabelle deflated. She knew that Camille didn’t mean anything bad by it, but that was what it implied, right? She was never going to be a famous and successful actress or screenwriter, so she should settle for something manageable.

“Well, she’s not a creative, like us,” Julian said. “She doesn’t get it.”

Like us. Annabelle was a horrible girlfriend for feeling a swell of pleasure at that. It was true, though. Still.

“We’ve been together for a really long time, and she’s been really supportive. I think she’s just finding the whole ‘me turning thirty’ thing annoying. Mainly because I won’t shut up about it. Which I’m sure you sympathise with!”

Camille said that anyone who claimed life stopped at thirty was an idiot. There was no limit for potential, no one age where everyone had to have their life together and perfect by.

She was probably right, but Annabelle could still feel the panic of it clawing at her the closer her birthday got. Even if she was successful after thirty, she wouldn’t be one of those young geniuses that everyone had expected her to be. She wouldn’t be exceptional.

She would just be Annabelle. It didn’t feel like enough. Maybe if she could see herself like Julian apparently saw her, it would be better.

“Chin up,” Julian said.

Annabelle cleared her throat again. “Right, yeah.”

“No, I mean.” His voice was deadpan. “Your head. You’ve moved. Drooped.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder. The melancholy shoved itself down again in the pit of her stomach.

He tossed her a wink from behind the easel, to indicate he was joking. Only trying to cheer her up and lighten the mood.

“So, I still don’t get to see what else you’re working on, huh?” she asked.

“I’d have to kill you.” He switched to another, smaller brush in her periphery vision.

She snorted.

“It would be very inconvenient all around,” he said. “Rigor mortis sets in fast. I’d never get the painting done in time.”

“Well we can’t have that. After you’re finished with me then, I suppose.”

“Our art is a part of us, Annabelle.” He shot her another glance in turn, brush poised above his image of her, considering. “So how, then, could I ever truly be finished with you?”

Her breath hitched in her throat. She debated possible responses to that, and how he could have meant it. Her body felt warm and flushed.

He gestured that she angle her head left once more, not looking away for a second himself.

Annabelle turned.

The summer waned outside the window, but in the painting she would still be in her sundress, legs tanned and toes painted sky blue.

Thank god he kept his studio warm. The minutes ticked by, the air between them settling tranquil once more.

“Sometimes,” she said, softly, “I wish we could stay like this forever. Freeze the moment. Is that stupid?” It felt a confessional thing to say. Bold.

“No.” She could hear the equally soft smile in his voice. “It’s not stupid. Isn’t that how I got you to agree to do me this favour?”

She remembered the party; an adult version of what they all used to do, even if it still felt like they were all pretending to be grown-ups. Or at least, Annabelle felt like she was pretending. She didn’t feel twenty-nine.

She’d clutched her glass of wine and hovered near a somewhat strained conversation about mortgages and the state of the housing market, and how none of them were going to be on the property ladder before they were fifty, before she caught sight of Julian coming in.

She echoed his words, and didn’t have to fake her wistfulness that time.

“To be remembered in art is the closest any humans’ get to immortality.”

He echoed the next line back at her. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

And she’d said yes.

***

“I’ve got a date for the exhibition,” Julian said, from behind his easel. “A few weeks after your birthday. Short notice, I know. Soz.”

“Ugh, don’t mention the B word. But that’s exciting! Can I come?”

“Of course you can come,” he said. “It’s why I’m telling you. This wouldn’t be possible without you.”

“I mean, while sitting here is terribly difficult,” she said, “I do feel like you should get some of the credit. Just some.”

She heard him laugh.

She’d grown to love Julian’s laugh; he was so ready to do it, at least in their sessions.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Camille laugh at something she said. Then again, she wasn’t sure the last time she and Camille had spent all that much time together.

By the time Camille got back from a day of teaching, Annabelle was usually already out for the night shift at the pub she waited in. Yet another thing in her life that wasn’t working like it was supposed to!

Camille said that could be worked on if, hey, Annabelle was willing to actually prioritise their relationship.

It had been one of their worst arguments to date.

“There’ll be thirty paintings in total, I think,” he mused, more talkative than normal. “Yours being the main one, like I said.”

“I’m sure you will perfectly capture the raw turmoil of turning thirty.”

He laughed again. It had been one of the most notable reviews of his first exhibition – except the exact wording had been that his work perfectly captured ‘the raw turmoil of adolescence, as an emotional and nostalgic period of change and growth’.

He’d finally caved and showed her some of his previous pieces, other than the ones she’d managed to find online, as a compromise of his refusal to show her how his painting of her was coming along.

Most of the individual pieces from his first exhibit had been sold off, but he’d kept the main one.

His main piece – Girl On Swing – got the most praise, so it had apparently been a bit of a scandal that he hadn’t sold it. He’d had offers.

It was a triptych (Julian’s word) of a girl, unsurprisingly, on a swing.

In the first of three paintings she was a child, carefree and giggling. In the second, a young teenager, her face a storm of emotion. In the final one, she was a young adult, caught mid-leap flying off the swing she’d been sitting on for seemingly eighteen years. Her arms were painted halfway to transitioning to a bird’s wings. She was no longer looking back at the viewer but forward, to all that life had to offer.

Annabelle wondered what people would say about Julian’s version of her.

People liked to fantasise about how amazing being a teenager was when they were an adult, but she hadn’t met anyone who fantasied about turning thirty. It wasn’t nearly as glamorous.

She hoped he made her glamorous.

“Of course,” he was continuing, “with the date so near, we might need a few more sessions to get finished on time.”

She looked over at him again, then, even if she wasn’t supposed to be moving.

The golden light danced across his handsome features, and caught the edges of the canvases behind him. There were twenty nine of them waiting.

“I make a pretty good lasagne,” he said, biting his lip. “If I say so myself. Compensation. If you don’t mind finishing late. There’s also a nice wine I got for Christmas that I really couldn’t drink alone.”

“I don’t mind,” she heard herself saying, before she’d even thought about it. “I don’t mind at all.”

“It’s a good venue,” he said. “A really good venue. Everyone’s going to love you.”

With him, maybe, the window wouldn’t close.

***

“I’m done, except for the varnish.”

The words sent a bolt through her, stirring away the sleepy content that came with posing for an extended period of time. She felt seen. Now, though, she wanted to see. Finally.

It was the day before her thirtieth birthday, and Camille had a massive surprise party planned, that Annabelle was both pretending that she didn’t know about, and dreading like a punch to the gut.

It was sweet that Camille was doing it. But also, maybe, if she didn’t celebrate the date she could still, somehow, be in her twenties for another year. That was how it worked, right?

“You are?” She leapt off the stool, and felt her joints click. “Can I see? I feel like I should have a right to see before everyone else. I won’t tell anyone.”

“It is top secret.” He pretended to consider.

She took the opportunity to relish actually looking at him for once; there was a kiss of red on the cuff of his painting shirt that hadn’t yet dried. It was the exact colour of her lipstick. She smiled.

He really had left her mouth for last.

“Fine,” he said, and gestured her over, eyes bright with amusement. “But only because I know you won’t tell.”

In the short space of walking over, Annabelle had time to feel her stomach clench. Her old fears boiled nauseously to the surface.

What if it was awful?

What if it wasn’t what she wanted, as if that had ever been the point?

What if her immortality looked like the part-time waitress she didn’t want to be?

She would have to keep a straight face, and not hurt his feelings. He’d been working on it for so long. It would ruin everything if he knew she hated it. It would no doubt be technically very skilled. She should have researched painting techniques she could comment on.

She rounded the easel, a little dizzy.

His hand fell on the small of her back, thumb tracing the curve of her hip, idly almost.

She stared.

Her painted self was lovely. So alive, as if thirty couldn’t possibly contain her.

It was not as realistic as ‘Girl On Swing’ though.

She was caught in the motion of talking, hands gesturing animatedly in the air despite her best efforts of posing, and though her face was turned towards the light of the window it was as clear as confession that her eyes were always turning towards him, trying to steal a glimpse.

She looked at him, at the viewer, like he was the best thing she had ever seen.

Camille would see the painting too.

She had already said that she had to come to the opening, especially ‘after all the time her girlfriend had spent with this Julian fellow instead of her.’

Annabelle swallowed.

The perfect bubble burst.

She released a shaky breath, abruptly more aware of his hand through the thin material of her dress.

They hadn’t done anything.

Even the night when she ended up staying over at his, after lasagne and wine, they hadn’t done anything.

The painting made it look like they had, though. She wasn’t even sure she could accuse Julian of exactly making it up, either.

He had painted the truth. Raw. Even when it would have been politer to hide it.

“Oh,” she said. “Wow. Um. Julian—”

“Happy Birthday,” he murmured. “For tomorrow.”

His hand moved up to the back of her neck and all of the colours of the painting swirled and rushed forward to meet her.

“Oh, and Annabelle?” His voice sounded very far away. “This is the bit where you stop talking.”

***

Annabelle had been thirty for nearly a month. Well, not exactly.

They all said that she looked amazing. So realistic.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her body. But, she could watch, from her frame.

She’d watched as Julian approached her with a paintbrush dipped in varnish – to seal the work – and she’d watched with her world turned sideways as they carried her canvas from the studio to the gallery.

She’d watched as they hung her up on the wall and made comments about her like she wasn’t there at all.

She’d screamed, too, or tried to. They hadn’t been able to hear her.

Julian had approached her again when they were alone, hands in his pockets, perfectly relaxed and pleased with himself.

“It’s a good trick, isn’t it? I’ve always had the knack of turning people into portraits.” He’d flashed her the same quick, reassuring smile he always did as he peered up at her. “As I said, it’s all about getting to know the person. Getting them to pour their soul out to you.”

He’d laughed, like he so often did, only this time it was at his own joke instead of hers. Or maybe she had always been the joke.

“I did worry for a moment that I wouldn’t be finished in time. But, don’t worry. We made it. You’re twenty-nine forever! Just like you wanted. Just like I promised. I’m not that cruel.”

She’d wanted to tell him that this was not what she’d wanted. She wanted to ask a million questions. She wanted to punch him.

Instead, Annabelle watched as Camille stepped into the exhibition room, on opening night.

She watched Camille scan the crowd, feverishly, expecting her to be there.

She watched as Camille’s attention snagged on the vast painting of her across the room.

God, Camille.

Her girlfriend made a beeline over. It had been an age since Annabelle had last looked at her, properly looked at her, hadn’t it?

Camille’s face crumpled a little as she studied the portrait; a myriad of regret and fear and confusion. Hurt. Her eyes were red and swollen like she’d been crying. She raised one hand towards Annabelle’s life-sized face, as if to touch, but didn’t. Her fists curled at her sides instead.

Guilt twisted in Annabelle’s gut. Camille looked exactly like how one might when learning that their girlfriend had cheated on them.

She felt an absurd surge of hope, despite everything, that Camille might see her where no one other than Julian had. The portrait, for all of its intimacies, suggested a grand love affair. People didn’t vanish fairly from grand love affairs, they just didn’t! It was suspicious, right? He was the last person to see her. The proof was in the painting!

Camille stared at her for a moment longer, her jaw set with grim determination. Then she scrubbed a hand over her face. Her shoulders hunched against some unbearable, undefinable weight. Her dark hair was greasy with worry.

“I’ll find you,” Camille still whispered. “I swear, I’ll find you.”

Annabelle’s stomach sank.

“No, Camille—” Of course, the words didn't come out. Nothing did.

She’d had been such an idiot, hadn’t she?

She felt a fresh stab of longing for that surprise birthday party.

How long had they waited for her to arrive? Waited for her.

Had Camille reported her missing? There would be no body to find, no evidence. The painting, the wanting limited eyes she looked out of, felt like a mockery.

Maybe the life she had with Camille hadn’t been perfect, not by a long shot, but at least they’d been alive. At least they’d been real.

Camille began to turn away.

“Please.” Annabelle’s voice broke. “I’m so sorry. I’m here, please. Don’t leave me! Camille!”

More attendees bustled to claim prime spot in front of the painting, murmuring about how talented Julian was, speculating on if Annabelle was his lover. Camille flinched.

“It makes me feel,” one of gallery attendees said, “like I’m interrupting them in a private moment, you know? Of course, it’s so Julian that she’s not actually a nude—”

She couldn’t see Camille anymore.

She was never going to see Camille again, was she?

CAMILLE. CAMILLE. CAMILLE.

Annabelle screamed it with everything she had, every atom of her, with the absolute certainty that if her girlfriend walked out the gallery door that Annabelle would never escape the painting.

She would never get to say sorry, or kiss Camille, or tell her properly that nothing had happened or would ever have happened, despite what she may have let her foolish heart feel.

She’d just liked the way he looked at her.

She didn’t want to stop the clock.

She wanted her life back, to live.

The painting hit the floor of the exhibition with an almighty crash.

Everyone scattered back. Red wine spilled like a crime scene against the polished floor.

Camille whirled back around too, alone a few metres away, her eyes wide and startled.

Julian appeared, clutching a glass of champagne in one hand.

“Goddamn these hooks. Who set this up? It’s a hazard. Everyone alright?” He looked around at his adoring fans, and summoned up a rueful smile. “I should have just got eyes to follow you all around the room instead, huh?” He looked down at her, where she stared up, in the same narrow periphery vision he’d painted her with. “Really leaned into the photorealism.”

Past him, past his taunts, Camille looked between the two of them. Uncertain misery flashed across her features once more. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, before closing it.

Annabelle willed her painted self to move again too, to speak, to do anything. She willed Camille to question, to press, to not give up on them and on her. Not now.

“Camille!” Julian had caught sight of her too, and straightened. He gestured for one of the gallery employees to get Annabelle back into position. “I’m so glad you could make it! Is Annabelle not with you? She was so excited for the exhibition…”

“You haven’t seen her?” Camille’s voice broke. “I – I thought she’d be here, at least. With you.”

“With me?” Julian spoke mildly. Innocently. “No, no. I haven’t seen her. I thought she was with you. Is something wrong?” His tone gentled, as he walked towards Camille. “She mentioned you’d been having some problems…”

“No – it wasn’t like that – Camille—”

Crowds swarmed Annabelle’s painted self once more. She was lifted back on the wall, as if nothing had happened.

"Let me get you a drink," Julian said. "You can tell me everything."

She caught a glimpse of Julian's arm wrapped around Camille's waist. The way she leaned into him, looked up at him. His lips by her ear.

"Camille—"

By the time the room cleared, they were already gone.

#the last of these stories I swear #turning 30 #short story #horror #fiction #writing #creative writing #writeblr #getting rid of the archive just in case #idk what to tell you #art #magical realism

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kookslastbutton · 1 year

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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m)┃ch. IV

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4,174

Warnings: 8-year age gap, professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), jungkook snaps, lots of family drama, mommy issues, oc being accommodating, fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues but trying to be good hubby, jk gives oc more hope!

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: this week's flashback hint–nothing like a little dilf rivalry! Also, this chapter gives more of a reason why jk is adverse to parenthood 😶 My closing notes offer some explanations. Let's go! 💞

<< ch. III ༓ ch. V >> | series masterlist

For the first 22 years of your life, you had zero partners.

Most people labeled you as being jaded, stuck up, or having too high of standards for it. But fuck it. Why couldn’t anyone accept that you weren’t about to settle down with the first interested guy just 'cause of peer pressure?

Of course, you'd likely end up with someone eventually. You have gone out on a couple of dates before. Yet they were never that promising. The men, or excuse you, boys roughly your age did nothing to woo you. They just wanted a late-night fuck at 1 a.m. or a nice, cute girl to take home to their mom.

Not that you gave a hell what others were into or anything, but you had other agendas. Getting married and birthing children before kick-starting your adult life was not in your playbook. Neither was jumping into bed with random guys every week.

So you haven't had much luck in the romance department. Good riddance to it!

What you were waiting for was a gentleman. Someone that was responsible, mature, and experienced. Bonus points if they were into the arts. But it was rare to find a suitor of such quality–who wasn't ridiculously off-limits that is. Obviously, some other strong-willed man or woman sunk their claws in before you got the chance. Drats.

4 years ago

“I can’t believe you,” your best friend giggles. “You’re going to that fancy new art exhibit downtown just to run into Dr. Kim! You’re so shameless __.”

You roll your eyes and stick your plate in the dishwasher. You’re best friend Na-Rae has been one of your closest friends since your second year of undergrad. Now into your third year of friendship, you consider her as close as a sister.

Unlike you, Na-Rae is utterly fascinated with all things STEM-related. She’s currently in med school aiming to become a surgeon, which is one of the many reasons why you and her are currently roommates.

“I’m telling you one more time, I’m not going for him. I actually want to see the paintings which should come as no surprise to you. Dr. Kim just happens to be going too.”

Na-Rae leans against the kitchen island, tongue in cheek. “If that’s what you wanna tell yourself, babe. But how, may I ask, did you know he’d be there? Are you stalking him online now?”

“Of course not. I’m not a creep Na-Rae.” You throw her a dirty look. Honestly, she really thinks you’re some obsessed fangirl. Like yes, Dr. Kim is really hot for an older guy, and the fact that he’s basically the second dean of the art department? He may or may not visit you in your dreams. Especially after studying for Dr. Jeon’s fifteen million econ exams.

Now there’s a guy who definitely knows how to stick it to you.

“Besides,” you continue. “Dr. Kim doesn’t have social media.” You don’t notice how contradictory that statement sounds until your best friend lets out a sinister cackle.

“Looked him up did you?” She hits your arm, wiggling her eyebrows tauntingly. “I knew it! I knew you were stalking him!”

“I–I am not! Stop that!” You ignore her looks, seeing it best to avoid eye contact altogether.

"Iovmererdhimalkingintheallway."

"C'mon, you know I can't understand that. You did what?"

"I over…heardhimalkingintheallway," you repeat, skirting most of the sentence again.

"For the love of might __! Why are you being so–"

"I overheard him talking in the hallway!" Once you blurt the words out you scurry out of the kitchen. "Gotta get my laundry, bye!"

"Uh-__!" Na-Rae races to catch up to you. "Explain to me how that's not being stalkerish!"

You grab your laundry basket and set it next to the dryer. "It wasn't intentional alright? I happened to be passing by at the right moment." You pop the door open, stuffing your clothes in the basket. Na-Rae casually watches you from the doorway.

"Right," she says. "Just happened to overhear Dr. Kim's whereabouts on a Friday night and just happen to be going to the same place. But definitely not planned because the dress you're currently trying to hide from me isn't meant for him to coincidentally see. Oops, my bad."

You release said dress from your hand aggressively. "Dr. Kim is at least a decade older than me and he's a high-level faculty member of the university. I'm not seriously trying to present myself to him in any romantic sense. That would be so inappropriate! And as far as the dress goes, it's the grand opening tonight. Everyone's wearing these kinds of things. So no, you're wrong."

"Very well, if the lady persists," Na-Rae shrugs, checking her phone. "Shoot, I gotta get to work in fifteen but I expect a full report later!" You watch as she hustles to her room.

The exhibit's doors open at 7 pm sharp. The line to the entrance runs about three blocks which is far longer than you were expecting. Most people came in groups or pairs, making you wish Na-Rae didn't have to work tonight.

But you're right about this being a formal affair. Everyone is dressed to kill. Some lean more towards black tie while others choose to show off their highly expressive, avant-garde nature.

You look down at yourself, suddenly feeling quite underdressed. You're wearing a simple black dress that's cinched at the waist. If one were to look close enough they'd see hints of gold throughout but no one would get that close.

The artwork itself is stunning. Varying from abstraction to impressionism, you get a sense of pleasure in taking in others’ inspiration. Many of these works are from locals in the area which is one of the main reasons for the number of interested guests. You wonder if anyone here knows the artists directly.

You make your way to the next set of pieces, studying the first in line. You immediately recognize the particular style as post-impressionism. It's clear the artist has great influence by Van Gogh evident from the similar large yet controlled strokes.

As you continue observing the work you feel a second body, looming close beside you. Naturally, you shift your eyes over to see the source. His hair brushes past his face as he leans closer to the painting.

After about three seconds you quickly dart your eyes away, careful not to stare. The man appears to be equally as focused on the work in front of him, as you were. It'd be a bit embarrassing if he noticed your gaze and snapped at you for it.

The man next to you slowly straightens his bent-over posture. He moves to the other side of you, viewing the next painting on your right. You barely catch the slight glance he gives you in the process, now able to see his full face.

It's not Dr. Kim–it's Dr. Jeon.

This isn't weird, you try convincing yourself. It's perfectly normal for you to see your professor in public. Besides, who knows if he actually recognized you yet. No need to make this awkward if you simply pretend not to notice him.

You think about whether to sneakily slip away or continue to feign ignorance until…

"Are we going to keep side-eyeing each other or can I say hi?" Dr. Jeon lightly smiles at you with playful eyes. His glasses are different today–thinner design. And oh, is that a...lip ring? Is that new or has he always had it? You don't remember seeing it before. "If you keep staring at my lips like that I might get shy."

"Ahha, Dr. Jeon!" You fight the stirring of your nerves. "Hi! Sorry, I didn't mean to stare or anything. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Please, __. Outside of class, Jungkook is fine. Though I understand if that's a little out of place for you."

A little?! You've been calling Dr. Jeon, well, Dr. Jeon for the past two weeks. It's unlikely that will change. "If it's alright with you," you start, hands restless. "I'd like to stick with the usual."

Jungkook nods, giving you a brief once-over before replying. "Sure, no problem. I'm hoping you'll warm up to the idea though. Dr. Jeon makes me feel old." He lets out a throaty chuckle. "I'd ask what brings you to this art exhibit but I think I have the answer, given the amount of sketches I see you doing while I'm lecturing."

Oh god. Your professor calling you out for both gawking at his lips and doodling in class under the span of five minutes? You've never wanted to disappear more. The sketches you do aren't meant to look like a distraction and honestly, you didn't mean to gawk at the tiny ring, it was just there!

"Sorry," he continues. "That wasn't intended to be passive-aggressive. I really don't mind as long as they don't hinder your learning. Dr. Kim does the same thing whenever I'm talking to him too. I've summed it up to an itch all you artists have. I've come here in support of him actually." He gestures to the collection of paintings next to you; the post-impressionism ones you were intent on studying earlier.

"Oh wow," you gasp stupidly, following his gesture. You didn't even clue in to read the artist's name.

Stigma by Kim Taehyung.

"I had no idea Dr. Kim had some of his work displayed here. I feel so foolish. I was viewing his pieces for I don't know how long just a few minutes ago."

You were sure Dr. Kim was attending the exhibit for the same reasons as you. But while it was partially right, you obviously missed the biggest point.

"Don't fret," a deep, honey-coated voice comes from nowhere. "Any admirer of my work is a friend of mine." He strolls up to your left, Jungkook still on your right. "I don't believe we've met yet. Dr. Kim Taehyung." He tosses a hand out for you to shake.

Oh no, no no no. You hope to death you won't start sweating. You've never been this close to Kim Taehyung before and he wants you to hold his hand! "Pleasure to meet you Dr. Kim. I'm __," you say, struggling not to burst inside.

Okay, so it's not exactly holding hands but it's close enough. His fingers are so long and elegant. You can't wipe the grin off your face.

You're squeezing it now, stop stop stop. You mentally slap yourself and retract your hand as naturally as you can. Thank fuck no one can read your mind.

"I'm sorry your name is __?" Dr. Kim freezes as if suddenly needing to remember something. When you think he's recalled whatever it is he needs, he flicks his head over to Jungkook with a twinkle in his eye. "__," he repeats aloud.

"Uhm, yes..." You're definitely missing something. You look between the two men, apparently both intent on keeping you in omnious silence. What's so facinating about your name?

Taehyung whips his head back to face you, flashing a blinding grin. "You're the little artist in Jungkook's class aren't you?"

That's what this is about? He looks far too proud of himself for connecting those dots.

"Yeah I take ECON 602 with Dr. Jeon." You make the mistake of looking at Jungkook mid-sentence. For some odd reason, his previous mirthful expression has changed to one of bitter distaste.

"She isn't little," Jungkook intrudes, nearly snapping at the older man. "Little is what you call a child and it's inappropriate for you to call her that."

What the hell....? How is Dr. Kim calling you little bothering your professor more than you?

"My apologies," Taehyung says. "But she's your student, right? The one drawing during your lectures? I think she drew you once. Exquisite may I add. You captured his pissed-off look so well." He gives you a pleased look but you're too sheepish to form a reply.

"Yes, I wasn't having the best day. Can I talk to you a moment Dr. Kim? We'll be right back __, just a second." Jungkook grabs the older's arm, yanking him out of your earshot.

"What the hell are you doing, Taehyung?" Jungkook spits. "You're making my student uncomfortable."

"Aha, so she is the artist. Look I admit that using the term little was a misstep but I think she's alright. I apologized didn't I?"

"Yeah sure, but she's not alright." He makes air quotes. "Since you've also made it seem like anything she does in my class, I spill to you! Don't you see how uneasy that would make someone feel? Especially me being her professor. She could be thinking I tell you weird things too! See what you've done?!"

"But Jungkook," Taehyung drawls, face scrunching. He's not sure what's gotten Jungkook so worked up. "You do in fact regurgitate everything to me. You've been talking about her for the last week just to one-up me that she's an artist. Now I get to have a face to the name. I'm kinda tickled about it but also, what weird things are you referring to?" Taehyung pauses, eyes going as big as a saucer. "Oh my god, bro. Are you–"

Jungkook grunts firmly, shutting the man up at once. "Absolutely not Tae. Whatever you were about to say, it couldn't be a bigger no. All I'm asking is for you to keep the private things private. I don't want you blubbering everything to her."

"Very well," Taehyung hums, stealing a glance at you behind Jungkook's shoulder. From where he stood, he had an easy view of you moving down the line of paintings. You stop in front of each one, curiously examining them the best you can. "However, she's quite intriguing. I can't make any promises that I'll hold myself back."

"You better be talking about her mutual interest in art. She's my student and we have an obligation through the university not to fraternize with any–"

"Yes yes, your student. I don't need a reminder of where my boundaries are, but perhaps you do....bringing up fraternizing and all." Taehyung moves past Jungkook, striding back over to you. "Whatever else can there be besides professional or academic affairs? Of course, we're keeping our witts about us Kookie."

Behind him, Jungkook huffs and follows his lead. Then wipe that stupid smirk off your face, he thinks.

Present

Dinner is rough.

Jungkook's parents showing up unannounced and uninvited throws you both in a very quick, downward spiral. How can two people have so much time on their hands? Retirement, that's how.

You try your hardest to keep the conversation light throughout dinner, but it's obvious the air has grown thick between your husband and his mother.

"Why didn't you come to the reunion last year?" your mother-in-law presses for the second time tonight. She clutches the napkin in her hand, anxious for his response.

Jungkook sits across the table. His posture stiffens at the question. "I'm sorry, I had a lot to do. The reunion is always so close to when I have to go back to the university that I just didn't have the time."

A loud, impatient sigh comes from back across the table. "You didn't have the time or didn't make it? Honesty Jungkook, you expect me to believe that?"

When Jungkook doesn't answer, you and your father-in-law exchange troublesome looks. "Honey," Mr. Jeon speaks up, placing a hand on her shaky one. "You know how full the school year is for Jungkook. Don't blame him. Maybe he can come this year if we reschedule for a more convenient time." He pleads with his son, hopeful eyes.

"Stop helping him." She looks at Mr. Jeon and then back to Jungkook. "I don't think I'm asking for a lot. I just want you there, you and __."

At that, you find yourself gripping your husband's arm from under the table. Jungkook shifts in his seat and stares dead straight into his mother's eyes. "Funny you say that," he seethes. You tug on his arm in desperation to calm him. "Seeing that you keep dropping by at random times throughout the year, I'd say you expect a great deal from us."

Mrs. Jeon immediately snatches her hand from your father-in-law's. "Maybe I wouldn't have to if you'd come to the reunion. Or called, texted, or even emailed at this point. If it weren't for my efforts, I wouldn't hear from you at all."

"Please," Mr. Jeon pleads again, this time to both parties. "We're having dinner. Let's continue this later." He reaches for the bowl in the middle of the table but he's quickly ignored.

"You're right." Jungkook cuts. "Maybe I should come. Because it's one more way you can get what you want, isn't it? All those years of hard work so you can show me off to everyone."

"Don't you talk to me like that," Mrs. Jeon grits. "If I wanted to show you off it'll be when you give me a grandchild! I'm lucky to even have a daughter-in-law by now."

Chair legs scrape against the hardwood floor and your arm snakes out from Jungkook's arm. Your husband stands at the table, Mr. Jeon follows suit. "Okay, okay, let's just–"

"Dad," Jungkook interrupts. "Can you please take Mom home for the night?"

"Are you okay?" you pop the question once your in-laws leave for the night, a queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Mrs. Jeon looked completely bewildered, whereas Mr. Jeon looked deeply troubled; conflicted between wife and son. You have a feeling he has a better understanding of what happened than you do right now.

"I wish she hadn't come today," Jungkook plops on the bed. You sit beside him. "I'm sorry about what she said about you....I knew she was here for something."

You won't lie. When Mrs. Jeon mentioned being lucky to finally have a daughter-in-law, it stung. You detest being seen as an achievement. "I'm sure she didn't mean it like that since she said it out of impulse. It was a tense moment," you say. "As far as what she was getting at though, it was for you to go to the reunion."

"No." He shakes his head and then glances at you. "It's not about the reunion. She only wants me to go so she can show everyone how smart and successful her son has become–all her doing of course. It's been like that since high school. And she wants you to go for a similar reason."

"I knew your mom had a bit of a thing for status but I thought that mostly revolved around her profession. Also, when she was talking earlier about you not keeping in touch she seemed more hurt and sad than mad. I think she really just wants you there."

"If she seemed hurt it's because she didn't get her way," Jungkook says, nonchalant.

"Jungkook."

"I'm sorry but it's true" He adjusts his position, angling himself to face you. "Mom's used to calling the shots– at work, at home, even with our neighbors growing up. You've seen how dad is around her. Yeah, he pushes back a little but at the end of the day, he does what's asked of him."

Frightened to ask the next question, you swallow hard. "What aren't you telling me Jungkook?"

He gently takes your hand from your lap, rubbing small circles on the knuckles. "Growing up, she was hardly around or involved in my brother and I's life. Most weeks, she and Dad would be at work, and we'd be with a babysitter or nanny. Dad did what he could to take care of us but Mom? All she would do is prune us to be just like her...smart, successful, and a dash more to make up for all the achievements she couldn't make."

"Jungkook...I don't know what to say," you murmur, trying to take everything in. "But your PhD–"

"My decision but her influence. Though she wasn't pleased when I said I'd be relocating ten hours away."

You remember him telling you this part before. His mother had a hard time coping with his reluctance to stay nearby. Maybe she did want him to follow in her footsteps. "Your brother didn't have as much pressure on him did he?"

"He did, but he still bends to her will. Except for the grandchildren part." Jungkook grimaces, averting eye contact. "I guess we have that in common."

"Hey," you urge him to lift his head. "Please don't feel bad about telling me any of this. If your picture of parents has largely been their absence and desire for self-fulfillment, then I understand your grounds for not wanting children. And as far as tonight with your mom, I'm so sorry. I feel like it's partially my fault for agreeing to host them for two days."

A pair of soft eyes rest on you in the dim room. The sun was near set now and all the light previously shining into the room had come from the window. If this wasn't a serious moment you might take a candid shot of your husband.

"You're the best thing that's happened to me __," Jungkook coos. "Don't ever think your kindness is a fault." He pauses then continues. "I still want both my parents in my life but I need to draw boundaries or I will completely snap and that's not something I want to happen. Especially since we have a possible baby to make one day."

"Hu–huh?" It's the repetition of the last sentence that makes you utterly dumbfounded.

Baby? Baby with Jungkook. One day?

Your husband draws his hand up to barely caress your cheek. "Why does that always seem to stop your heart?"

You catch his wrist mid-movement and throw yourself into him. Your arms link around his neck, chest flat against his. "It doesn't stop my heart," you say, playing with his hair. "It makes it beat faster."

"Wow." Your husband hugs you closer. "So cheesy." He leans back after, pressing a soft kiss to yours.

The two of you continue making out like teenagers again; Jungkook tumbling on his back.

"Kook." You lay on top of him, straddling his sides. "Have you ever thought about seriously talking to your mom about you know, everything you told me?"

Jungkook hums, before answering. "Somewhat but, I'm not sure how that'll go."

"It might be worth it instead of having little pieces slip out when you get into conflict...like tonight for instance."

"I suppose it's not a far-fetched idea. I'll consider it but it might take some more time. For now, I think I'll start by calling her tomorrow. I'm still mad but I don't wanna leave things the way they are now. Plus, I'm sure they don't have plans to go back home early. I'd hate for them to stay in the hotel the rest of these two days."

"Sounds like a plan," you say, snuggling into the crook of his neck.

"Mom." Jungkook holds the phone to his ear. "What are you and Dad doing today?"

"Oh, I–," his mom stutters from the other end. "We're not up to too much. I think your dad wants to swing by some bookstore around town. Uh, what about you?"

"__ at work and I'm home by myself. Are you hungry? I thought maybe we could go out for brunch."

Jungkook hears his mom's tone lift. "Are you sure? I mean that would be lovely but if there are things you need to do then we don't want to...impose."

Mrs. Jeon's sudden willingness to check in is unexpected. Jungkook still senses traces of guilt but at least she's making somewhat of an effort.

"It's my treat," he assures, a little shaky. "I'm sorry about yesterday, mom. Maybe we can talk about it more in person."

"I think that would be good," she agrees simply. "Where and what time do you want to meet up?"

"Drive over here in twenty minutes. We can pile in my car and head over."

Once finally agreed, Jungkook ends the call. He opens his messages and shoots you a text.

Jungkook: Well I did it 😬 [sent at 10:42 a.m]

__: Proud of you ❤️ if anything happens, call me. [sent at 10:44 a.m]

Jungkook: I will. Also, sorry to bring it up but I gotta give Yoongi hyung an answer by tomorrow. Are we babysitting his twins Saturday? [sent at 10:47 a.m]

__: Ahm, it'll likely be the evening, right? [sent at 10:48 a.m]

Jungkook: Probably [sent at 10:49 a.m]

__: I guess, sure. We're going to need to put some stuff away though 😅 And get something fun for them to do! [sent by 10:51 a.m]

Jungkook: Noted but I'm sure they'll bring lots to do. Yoongi hyung is a big sofie for his girls. He buys them everything–literally 🫠 [sent at 10:52 a.m]

__: True. I have to get back to work now but love you xoxo [sent at 10:53 a.m]

A/N: Surprise! jk has mommy issues and they've has been triggered. Was hoping how he talked, thought, & acted towards her in the last chapter gave hints. On the brighter side, jungkook is another step closer to babyville! And next flashback will be something exciting! Lmk if you wanna be tagged or have thoughts in comments or asks! 💞

Masterlist

Taglist:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper @ellesalazar @monbebe234-blog @parkinglot-nights @borahaexoxo @hobiswhore @kimseokjinbangtan @jjk97091 @mk-id @blueberry711 @givemethemaknaes16 @iammartian07 @jjkluver7 @itsdingdong @jiminshi20 @sweet-sourhotcoco @lovingkoalaface @starsinsky1999 @rockstarrgyu @chaconnelatte @lubtou

#bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

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heartfullofleeches · 10 months

Note

Oohhh I love the night gallery crew!! <3

Okay so- how would the art gallery harem react to the news that their precious night guard used to pose as a nude art model for one if their previous jobs? Bonus points if they end up digging around and finding old drawings/portfolio pics of them posted online lol

The Painter

Their muse - a model in the past? A nude one at that? They can't say they aren't jealous others have bared witness to their beauty, but they won't be so upset about it if their dearest is willing to come out of retirement and maybe send their older photos up to their study. They promise not to stare too much, but they pray their muse doesn't mind if their eyes linger. It's rare for them to be in the presence of such raw perfection. They are more of a hands on type of painter so their muse wouldn't mind a few touches, no? As they would say, it’s all just apart of the process.

Rosebud

Of course they are interested, but they won't press the matter unless Reader offers to share.... Please ignore the excitement of their roses - though they do reflect Rosebud's inner feelings they assure Reader it's just past their feeding time. Clearly more flustered than they let on. Refuses to look at the images because they would only make them more tempted to leave bites all over Reader to claim them as their own as they are when they see the Guard's exposed neck or wrists or pretty much any uncovered inch of skin.

The Scavenger

Hope staff gives the printer in the breakroom a nice funeral because if Scavenger gets its hands on those portfolio shots it's the end of the line for that poor machine. Anything relating to their precious treasure is the pinnacle of their collection. They must have more - even if it's the same picture a thousand times it's still not enough. If anyone comes across one of their copies it's best theu leave them their because even if they're trying to return them Scavenger will accuse them of stealing. There's not doubt I my mind they've eaten a copy or two because they're weird like that.

The Faceless Angel

Conflicted. On one hand they are interested in seeing their guard in all forms, but on the other it feels like an invasion of privacy. Unlike some, their intrigue comes from an artistic viewpoint rather than sexual. They'd give anything for the opportunity to touch Reader's warm flesh without clothing in the way. It feels like heaven on their stone skin.

The Lady in Red

It's the less images she's interested in and more the people who have seen them. Swiftly cuts down anyone who views Reader's pictures while in the gallery be they human or fellow exhibit. She can't do anything about the past, but does everything in the present to keep too many eyes off her love. Takes the photos Scavenger loses and while she keeps a few on hand - she burns the rest.

Julian

Slimy fuck is probably the first to come across them being the noisy little stalker he is. As an artist in his free time, he does use them for reference, but it's much more fun to use them for other things. Like teasing Reader about their past or taping copies to the breakroom fidge. He only does it when he knows they're the only two on shift because he'll have to hurt anyone who sees them nakee besides him. Like Lady, he's more likely to attack paintings who have gotten a hold of the scavengers copies.

Anri

Their favorite coworker was once a model? How fun! They aren't the best artist, but they can draw Reader too. A little bashful about seeing them naked so they stick to just about the shoulders. They want to at least waiting until their ten date with Reader before seeing them in such a state. Covers their eyes and runs off whenever someone tries to show them. Julian only allows Anri to see the photos because it's fun to chase them through the halls with them or point out various aspects of their features to make Anri flustered

The Director

Dislikes imagine of Reader because while they can be used to create copies of them, The Director wants the real thing. Still has one of Scavenger's photos tucked in his coat pocket.

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #yandere x you #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #Night gallery tag

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pommedepersephone · 3 months

Text

Report to the Quartermaster on MI6 employee social media accounts

Rin Rigg is online

R: Hey Q, you asked me to keep an eye on everyone’s social media accounts, so here is this week’s batch! M has an officially sanctioned Facebook account which is purposely bland and mostly composed of pictures of his grizzled old sausage dog, Pickles.

Q: That is… adorable? No, wait. Please forget I ever called Mallory adorable.

R: Moneypenny loves Pinterest, because of course she does. Her boards are VERY aesthetic and filled with shoes, bags, and surprisingly a good number of DIY furniture refurbishment projects. Also, she has a wonderful collection of fashion exhibits.

Q: I didn't even realize there were that many fashion museums in the world, let alone the UK.

R: Tanner has somehow been dealt the short straw of keeping up a presence on The Platform Formerly Known As Twitter and does a good job of sharing relevant public service announcements and the like.

Q: Always was a reliable, affable sort of chap, so it is rather his fault he is stuck trying to make us all look respectable... He has a lot of sunrise shots?

R: Oh yeah, that is his thing. The only extra info he asks for in his mission briefings is the best place to see the sunrise.

Q: So wholesome. Makes me want to say drink.

R: 004 is on Tik-Tok. She appears to love dance videos. Also follows a number of history accounts. And she does, um, cosplay... Very, um, sexy cosplay...

Q: She sews these? Do you think we can convince her to work in Textiles after she retires?

R:...

R: You really are quite gay.

Q: Quite.

R: Alright, last one. Remember I asked if we should track retired staff accounts? 007 maintains a surprisingly robust Flickr, an account that goes back over a decade. It is am impressive travelog! A Shinto shrine glowing in the late afternoon sun. A spread of colorful spices at a market. Rolling lavender fields and blooming cacti and bits of mosaic work.

Q: ...

Q: Not surprising. You remember that human peacock's wardrobe. He always had a skilled eye for color and composition.

R: Oh the last few months are a lot of really artful shots of this lovely blond woman.

Q: ...

Q is offline.

R: Q? Q are you still there..?

#007 fest 2024 #station atlantic #quartermaster #sorry q so so sorry #james bond #omg shoes

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fanhackers · 3 months

Text

Affirmation/Transformation: Fandom Created - a chance to see your fanworks on display in a museum

Mark Heresy, American, b. 1965. Will to Power (detail), 1992, Ink on paper, 28 x 22 in, 2000.11.5, Gift of Peter Norton, Collection of the Haggerty Museum of Art, Marquette University

Affirmation/Transformation: Fandom Created, an exhibition of fine art pieces and the fanworks inspired by them, will run from August 23rd through December 22nd, 2024, at Marquette University’s Haggerty Museum of Art, as well as online. This exhibition considers “creation” as the line between casual enjoyment and fandom. Fans are not passive; fans create. Fans from any and all fandoms are challenged to create fanworks inspired by both their fandom and one of 14 fine art pieces from the Haggerty’s permanent collection. Visitors to the museum and to the online version of the exhibition will be able to see submitted fanworks displayed digitally alongside the fine art pieces hung in the gallery, and will be asked to consider whether the fan creations are affirmational or transformational—that is, do they affirm the fan object as it is, or transform it into something new? Affirmation/Transformation: Fandom Created also happens to be the keystone of my dissertation project.

My research focuses on the kinds of things that fans create, the ways in which fans and academics consider those creations, and the various ways fans are compensated for the work they complete. “The kinds of things that fans create” includes not only tangible creations—like fanfiction, fan art, cosplay, and collections—but also immaterial creations—like rules, rivalries, relationships, political movements, identities, histories, emotional responses, theories, community, meanings, alternative readings, and play. I am hoping fans will submit a plethora of different forms of tangible fanworks; I have already received art, fiction, original music, nail art, cross-stitch, cosplay, and more. Intangible fanworks are more difficult to gather and display; however, once Affirmation/Transformation opens in the fall, I will be conducting ethnographic research with fans regarding their experience with both tangible and intangible fan creations. Through my research, I hope to further break down what I see as an unnatural barrier between affirmational and transformational fandom, and expand on the ways in which all fanworks both affirm and transform their fan objects. Additionally, I will be investigating the various ways fans are compensated for their fannish labor.

In business, the idea of non-monetary compensation is commonly discussed. Things like benefits, time off, employee assistance programs, discounts, and other employer-provided perks are discussed as a part of an employee’s “total compensation package.” Yet, in most fan studies texts, fan labor is referred to as totally unpaid. At best, fanworks are discussed within the context of a gift economy: fans make fanworks as gifts, and are gifted more fanworks in return. I don’t disagree with this assessment of fan compensation—I personally consider each fanwork submitted to Affirmation/Transformation: Fandom Created to be a gift towards the completion of my dissertation—but it does not seem to go far enough. The “compensation” fans receive extends far beyond the (albeit massive) “gift” of the vast archives of fanfiction and fan art housed on sites like AO3 and Tumblr. Compensation can be social, emotional, communal, psychological, developmental, and beyond. If access to an EAP is considered part of the compensation package offered by a corporation, then should not access to a network of individuals within a fandom—all in possession of their own knowledge and expertise—be considered as similar compensation? Fans provide mutual aid for those in their community in ways often above and beyond what a business might do for an employee facing a period of struggle. Perhaps I am just a “cultural dupe,” but I feel I’ve gotten just as much or more from my fandom as compared to what I’ve put in, and I struggle to be fully convinced that my labor is being exploited for the mass media’s hegemony.

Through my scholarship, I hope to contribute to ongoing fan studies research through the further analysis of these alternate forms of compensation, as well as through the cataloging and archiving of fanworks as valid, artistic texts worthy of academic consideration. Not only will the fanworks submitted Affirmation/Transformation: Fandom Created be displayed as a part of the exhibition, but they will also be archived with my dissertation in Marquette University’s institutional repository, preserving them for at least as long as the University exists and making them available for further academic study. Fan submissions for Affirmation/Transformation: Fandom Created are being accepted now, and will continue to be accepted through the close of the exhibition (December 22, 2024). In order to be on display in the gallery on opening night (August 23, 2024), fanworks must be submitted by August 1st. All types of fanworks are welcome, as long as they are submitted digitally. Sound will be available to be played in the gallery (fanworks will be displayed on tablets with headphones attached). For more information, visit https://epublications.marquette.edu/fandom/Affirmationtransformation/, or email Kate Rose at [email protected]

#author: kate rose #kate rose #fanhackers #call for submissions #gift economy #fan labour #transformative fandom

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giorno-plays-piano · 1 year

Text

Metamorph

Part I

Pairing: art teacher!Aemond Targaryen x reader (Horror AU)

Warnings: dark!Aemond, obsessive behavior, murder, horror, yandere, kidnapping, misanthropy, general creepy stuff.

Words: 1.5k

Summary: Drawn to the artworks of one of the most esteemed artists in the city, you wish to learn from him and find out what inspires him to create his masterpieces. You have no idea how much his secrets will cost you.

P.S. Unhinged Aemond, my dear Ewan nation! No physical harm done to the heroine, though.

___________

"Are you ready?" He asks you calmly, but you can see his impatience, the way he restlessly looks at you and back at the door leading to one of the smaller studios he always keeps locked at all times. Aemond can't wait to show you something, some other paintings of his he prefers to hide from others, and you feel both intrigued and disturbed by what you will find.

He is a genius, no doubt. One of the best artists of the century, the critics say, and while your city literally consists of art studios and galleries, people speak of Aemond Targaryen with a weird reverence, and his name is constantly on the ear.

His drawings caught your attention the moment you saw them online, mindlessly looking through your feed. It was hard to explain what exactly made you stop and look at them - even after months of attending his course you still couldn't quite put your finger on it - but you saved the pictures, printed them out, and then was staring at them hanging from the wall for days like you had been hypnotized. The ones you stumbled upon first depicted all sorts of buildings, always only in black and white, overgrown with... something. Flowers, vines, some greenery that looked like flesh and bones, painted in vivid red, of course. It was sort of scary... but also sort of not. It was a work of art, not some background picture from a cheap horror movie. The architecture he chose, they way he drew it as if he was recording his own perception onto the paper, each stroke written with his style, perhaps his very soul embedded in it... It was impossible to describe it with words. One had to see it to understand.

So, you had visited a gallery where his works had been exhibited, and since then you were fully supportive of city's infatuation with Aemond Targaryen. There was no way you could stay indifferent to his art, especially considering your own desperate attempts to get better at drawing.

How could he be so expressive while mostly using just black, white and red paint? Most of the time, he wasn't even painting but drawing, making sketches, that sort of thing. And yet you were obsessively saving and printing all of his artworks you were able to spot online. Some you hang on the walls of your apartment, some - the ones that made you held your breath - you kept in a drawer like you were a dragon guarding your treasure chest. One time when your mom accidentally spotted them you literally wanted to fall through the floor. It was... too intimate for sharing with anyone. Despite the paintings and drawings showcased openly in the galleries for everyone to see, they felt like they were your great secret, your own hoard, too precious to even talk about it, less let people see printed artworks you kept hidden in the bottom drawer of your cabinet.

Who was he, the man who brought these breathtaking paintings to life, you had often wondered. How had he done it? How did he make the red paint so vivid, so expressive and yet not vulgar? How could he lay strokes with such precision, but not the same way most artists did? How did he build his compositions that they felt real and surreal at the same time? What sort of magic was that? Everyone around joked he must have sold his soul to the Devil.

When you saw Aemond for the first time, you thought the same thing because he scared the Hell out of you. First, he wore an eyepatch and had a long, ugly scar crossing half of his face. An incident from his childhood, someone whispered to you. Someone had stabbed him in the eye.

This felt disturbing and surreal, too. Stabbed a child in the eye? What the Hell? Wasn't he from some wealthy, upper-class sort of family?

Perhaps, it was one of the reasons why Aemond seemed so sullen and chilly, his only presence making the temperature in the room drop a couple degrees. Despite his obvious attractiveness, it felt like he was an alligator waiting in front of a crowd of stupid bunnies who came to admire his teeth. Didn't help he was dressed in all black, and both his skin and hair were alarmingly white like he wasn't really a human being.

A stupid suggestion, really.

He'd been through some serious shit, someone kept murmuring you in the ear as you stared at the artist, open-mouthed and frozen in place. His dad was really wealthy, but rumors had it he didn't really care about him or his siblings, and his mother was constantly on antidepressants. Then the incident with the eye-stabbing happened, but it was still shrouded in mystery even with journalists trying to dig up the truth for years. After he grew up, Aemond went to study business and started working under his grandfather. Rumours had it he made some crazy money but started hating his life, ended up having serious issues with drinking, and at one point, he suddenly left everything and disappeared.

Whatever happened then was a mystery, too, and the artists never spoke about it in any of his interviews expect for saying that drawing has saved him. Although nothing suggests he is a former alcoholic and had once been homeless thanks to the immaculate way he dresses, you thought there was something in his face that made you wonder if he actually got better. Aemond seemed... very hostile.

But he'a an artist, too, and you've found all of them weird in one way or the other.

Of course, despite the fact that you've been drawing for years, you've never thought yourself an artist. No, no, you just enjoy it as a hobby, and you're nowhere near people like Aemond Targaryen.

But when you heard he opened a drawing course for the general public, you were so frantic about getting in you swore to yourself, regardless how much it costs, you would get in. Even if you wouldn't be eating for the next few years.

Seriously, it was Aemond freaking Targaryen you were talking about. A literal King! He had been the talk of a month even in the capital thanks to his recent dragon paintings collection that was sold in an auction for a ridiculous sum of money. So what if he's scary and had this chilling-to-the-bone stare? Most successful people you knew seemed at least a little frightening. Besides, if anything, you could just drop out of class.

But if you were brave enough to apply, you could have a chance to actually see him at work.

How did his studio look? What sort of routine did he have? What kind of paint and pencils did he use? How had he gotten that amazing crimson color you were trying to replicate for months without any success? What did he use for inspiration?

Clearly, you just couldn't let this opportunity slip away. You had to try to get in.

Surprisingly, the course wasn't even that expensive, sold at nearly the same price as most other art courses as if Aemond was just like any other artist in the city. The problem laid in his way of choosing the students: he requested to see the artworks of applicants to determine whether he'd take them or not.

It nearly put a stop to the whole thing because you were terrified of him seeing your drawings. What would he think about an amateur like you? How could you even dream about coming to him instead of improving your technique first with some other, way less known artists? He was Aemond Targaryen, for God's sake.

But you knew he might never take other students again. He might even move to the capital that would give him much more than your city ever could. What if he just disappeared? It could have been your only chance to see him work.

When he accepted you along with 9 other students out of more than two hundred participants, you thought you were dreaming. How? Why would he? You were far from professional. Goodness, you weren't even planning on becoming a true artist, and it felt like you were cheating on people who did. So, how could he take you, knowing that?

Not that you were going to drop out before the start of the course. Over your dead body. You literally spent the entire week shopping for new materials even though you knew he would give you suggestions later. But how could you show him your pencils and brushes that looked like your dog chewed, ate, and then threw them back up? You'd rather jump from the roof.

___________

Alas, on the first day of the course, you stood there among other students, holding your breath as you watched the door of the studio open. Aemond Targaryen was going to teach you his art.

Part II

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond x reader #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #the house of the dragon #yandere

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supersonicart · 2 years

Text

SUPERSONIC: VISIONS - Now Available Online

Supersonic Art's group exhibition is now online for your viewing and purchasing pleasure.

Featuring 30 of the world's best new contemporary artists!

Head on over to Supersonic Art Shop to check out all the incredible work.

#art #painting #illustration #fine art #fine art for sale #gallery #exhibition #art show #group art show #artwork #artists on tumblr #curators on tumblr #drawing

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hrts4hanniehae · 8 months

Text

clutch || eight

there are written parts :)

note that the timeline or educations may not add up but just ignore it because i don't have the brain power to sync up THIRTEEN + 1 's education schedules

sorry for the late chpt. I was really sick so i tried my best on this chpt. next chpt will be longer, i promise.

warnings: some level of chae-young attempting infidelity, swearing

wonwoo came home to find yn passed out on the couch.

"you okay?" - wonwoo

"i need sleep. i've been stuck at school finishing my final project and i just finished. now i have to worry about the stupid reunion in two days. i have no dress and i look like a zombie. life is great." - yn

"go take a shower. i'll get the guys to help you. jeonghan has connections." - wonwoo

the word shock wasn't enough to describe the look on everyone's faces when yn and wonwoo walked in through the door.

some background information: in the one week before this gathering, yn had completed her pieces for the museum, her final project for university and all her outstanding commissions. her exhibit had been very successful and she had earned quite a significant amount of money.

"yn. is that your boyfriend?" - aunt

"yes. this is jeon wonwoo, my boyfriend." - yn

"nice to meet you, my name is jeon wonwoo." - wonwoo

"yn-noona... isn't that the streamer gameboi? you're dating Korea's number 1 [game name] player?" - younger cousin

"no way..."

the whispers in the event room got louder and louder until the people she hated finally came towards her. it was evident that chae-young was gawking at wonwoo. she didn't even bother to hide her lovestruck expression from her husband.

"so this is the new guy you have, huh yn." - mother

"good morning, i'm jeon wonwoo." - wonwoo

it seemed like he had to repeat himself often today.

"what's your net worth?" a disrespectful question right off the bat was expected and both yn and wonwoo had prepared for it.

without missing a beat, wonwoo simply smiled and said, "14 million. I am sure that I have enough to take care of yn for the rest of our lives."

the jealousy that clouded chae-young's face was the best thing that yn had ever seen.

sitting at the table was very awkward because they were surrounded by whispers and glances.

“so wonwoo. what do you work as?” chae-young’s husband was actually a very nice man. he was always kind to yn and her brother and was the complete opposite of his distasteful wife.

“i’m a gamer. i’m currently in talks of joining [fictional korea no.1 pro gamer team]. that deal closes before june,” - wonwoo

“ah i see. what about you, yn? what are you working as now?” this question was on everyone’s mind. some with ulterior motives.

“up until thursday, i was a museum part-timer and finishing university. but i recently managed to sell many of my art pieces and have made quite a name for myself in the past three days. in case you all didn’t know, almost every artwork in this building was made by me over the last 4 years.” - yn

the room was silent. you could hear a pin drop and wonwoo couldn’t help but smile to himself.

let’s walk through the real train of events.

after the “fake-dating” agreement, wonwoo, minghao, mingyu and dokyeom had helped yn move every piece of her artworks over the years to minghao’s studio to sort through them. it took them almost 30 hours to categorise. by monday, they had organised the auction within the museum, an exhibition for her other works and an online bidding website for exclusive works. from tuesday to thursday, the auctions and exhibitions opened.

every one of yn’s artworks sold for incredibly high prices. this particular hotel that the family reunion was, had purchased a significant amount of said artworks.

“you mean you painted that painting of a phoenix?” - uncle

“i did that 2 years ago.” - yn

“and that ceramic heart? that was you?” - aunt

“yes.” - yn

wonwoo could not help but smile at yn’s nonchalent bragging. just then, a hand reached across to tap his.

“so~ wonwoo-oppa~ how did you and yn meet?" chae-young began to blatantly flirt with wonwoo while her HUSBAND sat helplessly beside her.

“i commissioned an art piece from her and fell in love at first sight.” wonwoo forcefully took back his hand before leaning closer to yn, earning a scowl from chae-young.

yn was’t exaggerating when she described all of chae-young’s antics.

here’s a list of the things she tried but failed to do. seduce wonwoo, yn’s “boyfriend”, spill water on yn, pretend that yn stepped on her foot on purpose, claim yn slapped her.

how embarrassing.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23

ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

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tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @yandere-stories @coupshour @heesbees @hamji-hae @hyuckxtagram

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