pansy prefers pastel colors (mostly pinks and grays) to darker colors. she loves mini skirts (like those cute white pleated tennis skirts), fuzzy pom poms, coral lipstick, and the smell of chanel (no. 5), but that doesn’t mean she won’t throw on a leather jacket just for fun. she wears doc martens, but she can pull off either the red vegans or the pastel bubblegum. the best part about pansy parkinson is that she isn’t afraid to be girly, because being girly doesn’t mean you don’t know how to kick some ass.
Portrait of a Young Lady (c.1535). Parmigianino (Italian, 1503-1540). Oil on canvas. Museo Nazionale di Capodimonte, Naples.
The lady is dressed in elegant clothes, with a yellow dress made of atlas silk. The top is patterned with lozenges, while below is a narrow white apron. Over her right shoulder, which curiously is far too broad, she is wearing a pine-marten fur stole complete with head. Importance was attached to the depiction of the expensive fabric and of the lady’s wealth; if one excludes the courtesan thesis, she must be a lady of rank.
Robin was tired. Her last assignment had been a handful. The target weren’t difficult to kill, but the guy had been certainly hard to find. She arrived at her apartment exhausted, only to be summoned to the Assassin’s Bureau a couple of hours later.
She parked her motorcycle outside the Bureau, and headed inside. Of course, on the outside it looked like an abandoned building, which it actually was, the Assassin’s complex was hidden underground. The guard stopped her before she reached the elevator. “STOP! Show me your face and tell me where do we work”. Robin pulled her hood off, revealing her face.
She had bright blue eyes, shaved eyebrows and piercings on her nose, lip and an eyebrow, not to mention all the ones she had on her ears. She had recently dyed her hair black, got short bangs and irregular length haircut, but she kept her usual side shave. That day she was wearing her Dr Martens boots, black leggings with a lot of holes, an oversized white tank top with the “Parental Advisory” label printed, and a black hoodie. She had many tattoos, but that outfit only allowed to see a peek of the one on her chest.
Looking at the guard she recited the watchword: “We work in the dark, to serve the light”. The guard smiled at her “Hi, Robin, you can go inside”. She nodded and entered the elevator. She hit the “lobby” button, and leaned against the cold elevator’s stainless steel wall.
Robin exited the elevator on the Bureau’s lobby. She looked around hoping to find a familiar face. Soon she did, at the other side of the room, a wide smile welcomed her.
you walk down the city street; the sun is dappling the sidewalk through the trees, she’s by your side, holding your hand. you’re both wearing flannels because there’s a breeze. she wears doc martens and it’s cute and her hair is short and her freckles come out when it’s summertime
you’re sharing an iced tea and maybe you’ll get smoothies later but for now you’re warm and content and in love ♡
Dena stood outside of the Camden Lock underground station. She was sucking on a lollipop and wondering if she’d worn the right outfit even a little bit.
She’d put on a long, lightweight jumper with the Picasso quote ‘The world doesn’t make sense so why should I paint pictures that do?’ on it. She was also wearing leggings with the underground map on them. Then, she was wearing doc martens.
She hoped that it didn’t make her look completely ridiculous. Her braids were back in a headband, mostly to keep them out of her face. They had just been redone recently, which was a relief. At least they’d look really nice.
When she saw Sheena emerge from the station, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Hey! Sheena!” she called out, raising one hand to wave.