A while ago I offered Minuiko to draw a pic to thank her for her awesome Jasico art and she suggested the goblet scene, which was a great request. I’m sorry it took me so long (did you think I had forgotten ? ;p) but finding a satisfying way to depict the scene wasn’t so easy, as I really wanted to include meaning and subtext ! I hope I succeeded, anyway I have to post it now or I’ll end up touching it up forever !!! ^^;; (I’m in this kind of period where I can’t be satisfied with my art. Again.)
what she means:
it's 1:59am and i'm literally lying in bed thinking about the umbrella scene and how important it is to the entire existence of the characters and relationships in this show. it is so symbolic of the connection between adrien and marinette and even though we've seen all different variations of their interactions throughout the entire season before that moment, nothing comes close to how significant and poignant this final scene is for these two characters. the shift in colors and atmosphere from the rest of the show in this one scene just emphasizes how important it is and the final line of the scene and episode and technically even season is literally "those two are meant for each other," tying everything up so perfectly that i have no words to describe how i feel about that final line. i also just stopped in the middle of this rant to watch the scene for the 30th time and i'm overwhelmed by how beautiful it is, from adrien's laugh to marinette's sigh to the amazing soundtrack in the background. but most importantly i am so happy that above all else, this scene establishes the friendship between adrien and marinette and how important it is to adrien especially. every time i watch this scene i feel so content and so satisfied and so blessed. we are so blessed to be living in the same lifetime as this scene. we are so blessed
do you live with a man who knows you / are you living the life you chose?
Summary: Victor has spent nearly his entire life being cold, from being born in the dead of winter through growing up in northern Russia to deciding to dedicate his life to ice rinks. He’s never thought much of the cold—until spends enough time feeling warm. (Or: adjusting to domestic life in St. Petersburg, the fanfic)
Word Count: 3,569
A/N: Annnnd it’s finished! This one gave me an unusual amount of difficulty to write, but I really, really wanted to do it anyway. It can also be found posted to AO3 here.
This is the second of a few fics I plan to write for follower requests after I hit a milestone about a week ago. @subteraneans and @demisexualmako both asked me for domesticity in St. Petersburg, and @comet-kind requested something fluffy and sweet and snowy for the season. The two requests ended up in combination here.
Thanks to @subteraneans for helping me with Russian terms of endearments, and happy belated birthday to @comet-kind, who shares the day with Victor!
Call it a weakness, but if there is one thing that will keep Victor lingering in a store for hours, it is the search for a perfect pair of leather gloves.
He has a whole drawer full of them in his closet, bunched behind soft-knitted scarves and few mismatched fuzzy socks. Yuuri discovers this when helping Victor pack up his room in Hasetsu, his eyes wide with a disbelief Victor rarely gets the pleasure of seeing on him in such a mundane setting. There have to be at least fifteen pairs, he points out. Yuuri pulls each pair one by one from the fingertips and deposits them on the floor in front of him in a damning spread of evidence. For what on earth does Victor need so many pairs of gloves?
The answer is simple: absolutely nothing.
Victor likes the scent of leather. It’s that somewhat sweet, somewhat sharp tang that wears away with age but never fully disappears. He breathes it in from his hands when it clings to his palms and cracks it in the air when he curls his knuckles, flexes fingers with each new glove pulled snug. Good leather, soft leather is pleasant to touch. And most importantly, whether each pair of gloves is lined with fur or fabric or nothing at all, they keep out the cold.
He jokes to Yuuri that since he has to wear cheaper, moisture-wicking gloves for exercise when he’s skating, he’s had to buy so many other nice ones to make up for all the lost time. Yuuri rolls his eyes and tells him this is absolutely terrible logic.
Victor laughs and falls back with his head in Yuuri’s lap, holding up a white fleece-lined glove to Yuuri’s cheek. “Hm,” Victor murmurs. “Perhaps a brighter color would be better with your skin-tone, Yuuri.”
what makes that end scene so great and satisfying is that kara was the one to make the move. she was the one to kiss him. she could have easily admitted her feelings and left it at that, or waited for him to lean in. instead she went for it and gave into her desires. you go girl
Ohhhh I think you asked me this last night and like a very responsible onion I fell asleep before answering. <3
I’ve been trying all day to come up with some sort of sophisticated and elegant, profoundly deep answer - and I just don’t think I have one, other than I really just….have to write. I’ve gone through periods in my life where I haven’t done so, and they’ve been a different sort of dark and lonely and less bright, if that makes sense. I love the feeling of seeing something in your head - kind of like a movie - and then finding just the right words to explain it. That tugging in your gut when something lands just right - a cliffhanger, or the perfect image - uhggghhh I live for those moments. I love creating something that didn’t exist before i took the time to sit down and make it so. Isn’t that neat? Art is such a beautiful form of expression - in any context - because of that unique, performative quality to it. Art does not exist until we, the dreamers and pushers and shakers and movers, make it so. It doesn’t matter the form or the context. We just have to sit down, show up, and do the work. And the end result is sometimes so breathtakingly beautiful.
It’s always worth it. Even if it’s a struggle (and it often is; I don’t want to romanticize this), I always learn something from what I’m writing. New ways of characterization? New ways of expressing emotions through body languages? New ways of exploring tenses, or sneaking around filter words, or playing with styles and formatting? guhhhhh I live for those. I love learning and growing in this art form - any art form. And I really do love sharing these words and ideas and gifts with people, but that’s like a cherry on top. I write first and foremost because it’s a gift I have and I really firmly believe in using the gifts we’ve been given for good and beautiful purposes. Why else do we have them? Secondly, because nobody else will tell these stories in my head if I don’t do the thing. Thirdly, I’m a sucker for punishment and like beating my head against the wall and crying when the fic won’t edit itself, when the plot is dumb, when the fic is 15k long with no end in sight…
Ehhhh this got wordy. What’d you expect, it’s me <3 I LOVE WRITING. I hope I never stop. What a great question.