fresh-lemon

Seeing Clearly (Phillip x Reader)

Phillip didn’t die and is an art major in college and falls in love with the girl who is modelling for him.


The crisp fall breezed entered through the window that Phillip had propped open in his bedroom. He sat on cool, satin sheets while mindlessly doodling. 

He had recently recovered from a nearly fatal shot to the side in a duel against a man who had called out his father. Needless to say, he wouldn’t be dueling again any time soon.

The tranquil scene reminded him of his muse, (y/n). Her cascading hair smelled of fresh cotton, lavender, and lemon. Her (y/e/c) eyes inspired images dancing through his head of such magnificent works of art; yes. She was his muse. The Mona Lisa to his da Vinci. The starry night to his Van Gogh.

He was finishing his most recent sketch, you in a long blue gown, sitting in a bed of flowers, looking at the sky. He knew every curve to your body, the way your rib cage moved as you breathed, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed. He had fallen madly in love with you. Not the kind of love marked by the color red and many sleepless nights filled with passion but the kind of love one feels for the tranquil blue waters resting clear against a green mountainside, the kind that puts you at peace with the world and fills the chaos and madness that haunts us. 

You completed him.

After filling in some more lines and blending the final touches, he finished his final sketch draft. He sent a letter to you so he could begin painting in the morning.

You had gotten his letter about meeting him in the park and the next morning, wore your blue dress, and sat on the bench where you two usually met. From the moment you saw him, you were captivated by him. His energy, his intelligence, his adorable smile. You sat on the bench daydreaming about the color of his eyes when you heard a voice. 

“Hello, (y/n)!” your heard Phillip exclaim happily as he neared you. You always loved it when he said your name. 

“Hello to you too Phillip!” you responded with a smile on your face. 

You positioned yourself in the way he had been sketching you for the last two weeks. You adored spending time with him. You both had similar outlooks on life so it was engaging to spend hours talking to him. You knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. Sadly, you didn’t know where to begin to ask him. Maybe you would once this painting was finished. 

He began mixing the hues to your dress and the flesh tones to bring your rosy face to life on the canvas.

“(Y/n), how do you feel about relationships?”

You began talking to him about the topic and found out you both wanted to explore the world and what life has in store before having children. You also found out he hasn’t been courting anyone for quite some time. Neither have you. You began thinking of ways to ask him once he had finished the painting.

Ten days later, you two were meeting in the park for one final time before he finished this painting. 

“Phillip, I do enjoy meeting you here and spending time with you,” you began.

“As do I,” he responded. 

“It’s a shame this painting is over.”

“Don’t worry, (y/n); I have another idea in mind after this. It is our fourth painting together after all.”

“Yes Phillip, but your almost done with art school. I may not get an opportunity to see you again for a while. And I- I need to tell you something.” You stopped.

“What is it, (y/n)? Is something wrong.”

“No- well, yes. I mean..It’s sort of hard to explain. I don’t want this to ruin any friendship we may have but,” you took a deep breath. “Phillip, I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

A moment of silence goes by and you wonder if you shouldn’t have been so abrupt.

“(Y/n)…That’s exactly the way I feel about you. You make me feel whole. Honestly, I was so out of it after the duel. Until I met you. You made me see inspiration again. You made me see art. My vision was blurred but now you’re here. You make me see clearly again.”

Vanilla ice cream cone from L’Artisan des Glaces located in Epcot’s France Pavilion.

petitmaitre-et-soncorbeau  asked:

soulmateAU: when your soulmate eats something you grave what they are eating! please! I mean Will poor poor Will graving human meat? goddamnit or Hannibal graving fast food? xD well this can be angsty or funny! :^)

I couldn’t decide between angsty or funny so I wrote both! :D

1.

For the first year, he doesn’t mind it.

The menu doesn’t vary much. It’s mostly cooked fish, steamed vegetables (usually string beans), nicely fluffed rice. It’s whiskey most nights and coffee most mornings (and some mornings it’s coffee and whiskey). It’s the occasional Hershey’s chocolate bar, which makes Hannibal’s palate wince - he really thought he’d taught Will how to appreciate a nice bitter dark chocolate, but he supposes some habits are hard to break.

It’s fresh lemon pie in the summer, and warm cider with rum in the winter. It’s the beef stew that Hannibal gave him the recipe for, made with a really lovely bordeaux.

It’s lomo saltado, once, although there’s a saltwater aftertaste that’s unmistakable.

All of these tastes, lingering in the back of Hannibal’s throat, dancing on the edges of his senses, he savours. Because it’s a small piece of Will that he can still cling to within these white, lifeless walls. It’s why he behaves so perfectly for his guards - the most gentlemanly of murderers - and it works. Works so well that they grant him special meal privileges, all so that Will can still taste Hannibal’s cooking, now and then.

But even that small thread can bring the deepest of pain when tugged too tight, and it does just that on an unremarkable Sunday afternoon.

The day that Hannibal tastes wedding cake on his tongue.

It’s a light sponge, perfectly moist with a dark chocolate buttercream. A simple cake, but well made. The taste makes Hannibal want to vomit.

Then he tastes the ghosting press of fingers as they playfully shove the cake in his - Will’s - face, and he does vomit then.

He retches in his tiny porcelain toilet with violent force, and he holds the stale acrid tang of it in his mouth before he spits, hoping that somewhere far away Will gets a taste.

Then he rinses his mouth out, splashes water on his face, and lies down in his grey cot. He stares up at the void of the ceiling and wishes he could never taste anything ever again.

(fluffy part 2 under the cut)

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Once upon a time, there were 3 girls and 1 boy. They were Tumblr and they took some cute pics. This (☝🏼️) is one of those.
Credits: @littl3sams
Tumblr/ig: @alexqu4lity

One of those AU masterposts

(You should totally show me the story if you use one of these)


I accidentally called you my boyfriend in front of my friends and they didn’t notice so I panicked and didn’t correct them and now I’m asking you out 4 realsies


Your friend and I have similar email addresses so once you sent me your selfies accidentally and oh wow you’re gorgeous

You keep checking out my favourite book from the library and I want to know you very badly

You’re a new kid and St OL E my napping spot in the football field

We’re classmates and kind of friends and I had a dream where we dated and now I’m very flustered around you???

We were internet friends and I didn’t realise you were this touchy feely but now I don’t want you to stop holding my hand

You have been my rival at a rocky horror picture show costume contest three years in a row AND I AM THE SUPREME DR. FRANKNFURTER-

You live in the apartment below me and your surround system is way too loud but its my favourite movie so I’ll leave you a disgruntled note but also invite you to talk about it with me

I am injured in a foreign country and you’re the only one who understood when I yelled “bandaids”


Our blog URLs accidentally match so our mutuals keep thinking we’re friends but I’ve never even met you

Both of our friends ditched us at a convention and we found each other loitering awkwardly alone but hey we’re cosplaying complimenting characters lets stick totogether

We’re on the same bus and I’m challenging you at Mario Kart but I can’t figure out what passenger you are and I want to throttle you for your continued use of blue shells

I sabotaged your art exhibit but I felt really bad so I went back in to fix it and you caught me

I part-time adopted your cat thinking it was a stray but you sent a note in the collar I gave it asking for equal shared custody and coffee

I literally bump into you on the street almost every day why can I never see you oh you’re a ghost whoops

We were urban exploring in the same location and you accidentally crept up on me so I hit you with my flashlight and you have a concussion im so sorry

You work as a line monster in a haunted house and you got in my face so I kissed you on impulse and now you’re too flustered to do your jjob

You saw me break this swing at a public park when I was drunk and I need you to never bring it up again

I could hear you passionately singing part of ‘A Little Fall Of Rain’ at two am so I picked up the duet and oh GOD you heard me

I was trying to teach you how to defend yourself and ended up punching you in the eye


I left a note in the bathroom stall for my drug dealer but you found it and replied and this is our correspondence now???

We both shouted the same pun from across the room during a lecture and now our professor hates us


I found you dyeing your hair in the communal bathrooms and four in the morning and thought you were bleeding from the head


We’re college roommates and you disappeared for three weeks and came back engaged with a giant tattoo of Jackie Chan on your leg??