Artists (Ralph x fem!reader)

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Request: Ralph x female!human!reader where the reader I am artist and their home is decorated with artwork and plants and stuff and it's being cute like the life theyre creating together as a couple -anon

A/N: Sorry, it's a bit shitty and short D: I don't like painting/drawing at all and that's why I don't know anything about it. My drawings are still just stick men and I can't do better and if I try to draw anything else, they look like they were drawn by a 5-year old. And yes, I drew a lot as a child and as a 15 years old I stopped because my arts teacher at school kept claiming that I don't even try :D I'm told it's part of my Asperger, because Aspies very rarely can draw/paint anything because our visual construct understanding (I don't know what is the real term in English, sorry, in Finnish it's visuokonstruktiivinen hahmottaminen) can be bad. Meaning some of us can't draw at all.

Warnings: None!

Word count: 439

***

Your paintbrush left beautiful, red traces on the canvas. Your nose filled with smells of flowers, you breathed slowly in and made a second, orange trace. You made little blue details and added little white lines to make the auburn look more realistic.

"What is Y/N painting?" your boyfriend asked from behind and you turned to him, smiling.

"Come", you said and shuffled away from the canvas. Ralph observed your painting for a bit. "It's not ready yet but..."

"Is that... Ralph?" he suddenly asked, looking at the painting and you smiled, nodding.

"Yes, it is you. I thought I wanted to show to everyone how much you mean to me." you said, blushing a little. Ralph looked at you, smiling widely and then he brushed your nose with his thumb. You looked at him questioningly.

"Y/N had paint on her nose." he said, and you grinned, looking down. He was so cute.

"We painters usually have our hands covered in paint. It's just part of what we do."

"Ralph is an artist too! He makes plants come alive and can make them grow in a way no one else can!" he exclaimed and jumped a little.

"I... I hadn't thought about it that way. But, I guess you are an artist, in some way. Just like me." you smiled and booped his nose with your paint-covered hand. You giggled at the sight. "Now you have paint on your nose too."

You laughed together and the rest of the evening, Ralph looked at you create. He admired you so much, he loved you and was so happy he had found someone like you. Someone who cared, who always found the right words to calm him down. Someone with such a beautiful smile, as you looked over your shoulder from time to time, smiling at Ralph.

You had once painted your hands to look the same as Ralph's, to show him that they don't make him ugly. You had painted a scar on your cheek to show Ralph you didn't look ugly with it, so why would Ralph look ugly. You had taught him through your painting that he's enough. That he's always enough. And slowly, he had learned it. And he loved you even more for teaching it to him. You were artists – free to be what you are, you could paint your own story to the gigantic canvas and show the world you were not afraid of anything or anyone. Not anymore. And as your paintbrush did it's marks to the canvas and as Ralph's plants occupied every room, you knew you were perfect for each other.

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