BLÅHAJ MY BELOVED💙
• #pixelart • #ドット絵 • #픽셀아트 •
reminder to:
straighten your back
go pee goddAMN IT STOP HOLDING IT
go take your meds if you need to
drink some water
go get a snack if you havent eaten in a while
maybe wander around the house/stretch a little if you’ve been sat at the computer a while (artists especially: sTRETCH THOSE WRISTS)
reply to that text/message from earlier you’d forgotten about
maybe send a nice lil message to someone having a bad day?
Entangled
bro needs bluetooth headphones asap
Cherokee Miku from my home state of North Carolina!
Part 1 of portrait sketches
pairing: choreographer!steve rogers x ballerina!reader
summary: After receiving acclaim in your dance company's production of Sleeping Beauty, you audition for the principal role in its newest production, Giselle, and catch the eye of your attractive, new choreographer.
warnings: none
word count: 534 words
notes: i've been sitting on this for almost two years, and after re-reading it today, i decided to publish this sneak peek and see if there's interest in this. as a former ballerina, this is a passion piece for me, so please let me know what you think! <3 (initially wrote this as an ofc so if there's errors, my b!)
Someone was watching you. It took you a while, but when you finally realized it, your dancing changed.
You were always so sure that no one was in the building at this time. It was far too early. You loved coming in the studio early, doing warmups, choreographing ballets you were too nervous to ever present, and physically baring your soul to the three floor-to-ceiling mirrors that surrounded you. But now, someone knew your secret, and they were watching you at your most vulnerable.
As much as you wanted to cut the music, grab your bags, and flee the room, you couldn’t. The stakes were way too important. If you wanted to be Giselle, your lifelong dream, you had to stay and practice until your feet fell off.
This was your first audition where you had to perform a piece for the director and choreographer. It was new to you, and frankly, you loved the idea. It emboldened you to pick a piece from one of your secret choreographed ballets, especially one so ethereal and heartbreaking.
You began choreographing this piece when your heart first shattered into pieces. As you worked on the pieces, you felt the pieces of your heart slowing finding its way to each other, waiting for the glue to put it together. On the night you choreographed your favorite eight-count, you broke down in tears. Every time you performed that section that night, tears welled into your eyes until you was too emotionally exhausted to continue dancing.
Whoever was watching your dancing was entranced by you. They felt directly connected to you and the emotion that lied within your movement. You didn’t feel cruel judgment as you continued dancing under their watchful eyes. If it was Gia or a member of her entourage, they would’ve snickered loud enough to break your concentration. If it was Pierre, he would promptly tell you to go home and get rest.
This person felt foreign to you, but you didn’t mind dancing for them. Your nervousness quickly subsided, and you wanted to give them a show. To make up for your hyper-vigilance, you put more emotion into your movement. All of the emotions you felt while choreographing this piece rose to the surface like lava finally exploding out of a volcano. Yet no tears stained your cheeks. Your tears came in the form of arabesques, grand jetes, and a series of the best pirouettes you had ever performed in your life.
When you finished, you let out a loud exhale. You had stopped breathing unintentionally, and something told you the person watching did as well. Although you couldn’t see them beyond the one-way window, you knew they were moved by your performance. If they didn’t want to endanger their position, they would’ve clapped and sang praises for the performance. Instead, you (correctly) imagined them walking away stunned, unable to forget what they saw.
You felt proud in yourself and your capabilities. You weren’t the only person who knew your true potential. All of your anxieties had subsided in this moment. You weren’t worried about the other dancers or being reduced to a member of the corps.
You were Giselle, in more ways than one.
Ladynoir
Nah bc I would do this. Absolutely un-ironically.
*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker* Y/n: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Everyone: Tony: ...I did. I broke it. Y/n: No. No you didn't. Steve? Steve: Don't look at me. Look at Natasha. Natasha: What?! I didn't break it. Steve: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken? Natasha: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken. Steve: Suspicious. Natasha: No, it's not! Clint : If it matters, probably not, but Thor was the last one to use it. Thor: Liar! I don't even drink that crap! Clint : Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier? Thor: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Clint ! Tony: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Y/n. Y/n: No! Who broke it!? Everyone: Clint : Y/n... Steve's been awfully quiet. Steve: rEALLY?! *Everyone starts arguing* Y/n being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it. Y/n: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. Y/n: Y/n: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.
Human!Alastor x wife!Reader
Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy, blood, murder, secrets
chapter two
Synopsis: Marrying New Orleans famous radio host had been a shocker to everyone. You, a southern belle from an esteemed family, had somehow managed to catch the attention of the mysterious bachelor.
Your wedding was all in the papers and talk of the town, even though the ceremony was rather private.
You quickly settled in as the homemaker as Alastor brought home the dough and took care of you.
It was a dream come true.
But Alastor was strange, even to you and you were his wife, but you brushed it off as him just being a man. You had nothing to complain about. You lived in a nice big house, had the finest luxuries, and Alastor would dote on you. What wasn’t to love?
Well… all those things were nice, but you were starting to crave a family with your husband.
You knew of Alastor’s upbringing and had an inkling that children might not be an option…but Alastor wouldn’t deny you what you desired most would he? Of course not ma belle.
Alastor prided himself on how people often wondered about him. The renowned radio host, who the public rarely saw. He was a mystery to many. He frequented jazz lounges and often could be found drinking whiskey as he listened to the Mimzy gossip about the latest news.
He, himself was shocked when he met you, the prettiest thing in the city. He had to have you. He knew you were the one.
Like the gentleman he was, he sent you flowers and love letters to begin courting you. He never tired of how shy you were around him.
It wasn’t long before he asked your father for your hand and the two of you got hitched.
And what a wedding it was! he spared no expense to your disapproval.
Alastor was the epitome of what every husband inspired to be!
Doting, providing, and attentive.
But he had a secret he kept from his little wife…
Can he maintain control over his domestic affairs and his sinister ones?
Soft jazz played in the background as you busied around the kitchen preparing dinner. The sizzling of the oil carried the scent of fried chicken as you chopped collards and added them to another pan to fry.
You hummed along to whatever song was playing as you cooked.
You took the chicken out of the grease, poured some of it in a can for later and used the rest to make cornbread. You stirred the collards a bit, adding pepper and a little salt before turning the stove off. You glanced at the clock; 6pm, Alastor should be coming home soon.
After putting everything in pretty dishes and wrapping it in foil you sighed tiredly as you finally got off your feet, plopping down on a couch.
You almost wanted to go back into the kitchen and clean up, but thought to just wait after dinner to do so.
You perked as your radio made a noise, static as if the channel had changed, before the voice of your husband came through.
”Well folks that is all. I have for you tonight! I hope you enjoyed today’s broadcast and I will see you tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner nonono haha. Until next time!”
You smiled, feeling happy he wasn’t going to stay at the studio all night.
With that in mind, you quickly ran upstairs to freshen up, wanting to greet your husband without the smell of grease clinging to you.
“I’m home!” A voice called as the sound of the front door closing had you rushing downstairs.
Alastor was taking off his coat, when you greeted him “Oh let me take that” you smiled, grabbing his coat to put it away. He let out a relieved sigh as he removed his shoes and put them by the door. Once comfortable, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into a kiss “And how was my beautiful wife today hmm?” He asked bringing a dainty hand to his lips. You giggled “Oh nothing worth mentioning. How was work today? I heard you signing off. I hate that I missed tonight’s broadcast” you mused, untying his bow tie. Alastor hummed “oh you know same ole same ole, through I will say I got a lot of fan mail today” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes. He took a whiff of the air and grinned “Hmm looks like I actually made it in time for dinner”
You both made your way to the kitchen and you immediately went to fix his plate, while he got glasses out of the cabinet and some red wine.
Alastor practically had drool coming out of his mouth as the smell of food wafted into his nose. You took a seat across from him and smiled. “My my my dear what a meal youve prepared tonight!” He commented as he took a bite out of the cornbread, moaning in delight.
It always filled your heart with happiness seeing Alastor eat your food. When you first got married, you didn’t have a clue on how to cook. It was rather embarrassing, but you had grown up with personal cooks.
But Alastor didn’t mind teaching you, and soon enough you were whipping up delicious meals that filled his stomach, rather than upset it.
Dinner was quiet as the two of you enjoyed each others company, Alastor making comments about the lastest gossip he had heard and you catching him on the neighborhood gossip. “Oh before I forget, Mimzy wants to know if you wanted to swing by the lounge this weekend. Something about I keep you to myself too much” Alastor laughed, swiping at his mouth. You laughed, that sounded like Mimzy. Always hoping to get a chance at you singing on stage so she could make a few extra bucks. “Well tell ‘er not this weekend, I have plans to host a few of the ladies for book club. Rosie is sure to have some gossip I’ve missed.”
Alastor quirked a brow “You sure dear? I fear Mimzy will chew me a new one if she don’t get to see ou” You mulled it over “Well book club usually don’t take that long and its during tea time so I guess I don’t mind gracing the lounge with my presence” you giggled, getting up and taking your empty dishes to the sink. Alastor followed you and quickly swatted your hands as you reached to turn the sink on.
“Now now my dear, you spent all evening cooking the least I can do is wash the dishes. The chef shouldn’t cook and clean” he nudged you away from the sink as you pouted.
It never ceased to amazed you that Alastor took on household chores. Most husbands had their wives cook and clean, but not your Alastor.
He didn’t like you to tire out from maintaining the home all day.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and told him you’ll be upstairs getting ready for bed.
You had just finished rolling your hair when Alastor came up to your bedroom. You sighed as you sunk into the cool cotton sheets, finally relaxing for the day. You didn’t realized you had quickly fell asleep until feeling Alastor slide into bed beside you, arm pulling you to tuck you into his side and rest your head on his chest.
You happily cuddled into him, breathing in his scent as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.
A yawn passed your lips as began to fall asleep
”Goodnight”
”Sleep tight dear”
”Don’t let the bedbugs bite”
”haha see you in the morning light love” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sighed, chest heaving in deep breaths.
Alastor smiled at your sleeping face; how lucky was he to have a sweet wife who worked so hard while he was gone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to your soft snores.
What bliss. He wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOTE: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh why and how did my mind conjure this when I have other things to write eeeeeeehhhh!!!!!!!
Anyway….this is gonna be ANOTHER short story hehehe. Since I wrote it on a whim it might take some time for me to post the next part but I hope y’all enjoy it nevertheless!
Remember to comment on the pinned post as I have a hard time finding everyone to tag since y’all are scattered on different posts!
if i missed anyone my bad!!!!
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there's an app called "No Thanks" that scans barcodes and tells you whether a company supports israel or not if anyone is interested! it should be available on most app stores!