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gen_battleTitle: Color Riot
Author: Missy (rise_your_dead)
Fandom: How I Met Your Mother
Pairing/Characters: Background Lily/Marshall; Lily charcter study
Rating/Category/Trigger and Content Warning: G; slice of life, character study
Word Count: 150
Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me, belongs to Carter/Bay etc.
Spoilers: general spoilers for Lily's character.
Summary: Lily knew what she wanted to be when she grew up
Notes/Warnings: Written forgen_battle, prompt: art, rebellion
When Lily turns six, she knows what she’s going to be. A Real Artist, like the people whose work hang on mommy’s wall. Color captivates her brain, driving her chubby fingers to clutch her thick colored pencils with undisguised glee.
Everything she sees ends up broken down into shapes and colors in her mind. At school, the highest honor is replicative homagery. She colors outside the lines and gets a check minus.
The older she gets, the more meaning art assumes in her life. For spring break, she saves and scrimps until she has enough to fly to Boston and drift through the Museum of Fine Art with Marshall’s loving but confused face right beside her. She streaks her dark hair with lines of aqua and gold until her degree demands hair of a less original hue.
By the time she’s a mom, by the time she has studio space of her own, she’s got enough gumption to think of herself. Her paintings hang here and there in motel rooms, the living rooms of friends and the parents of kids she’s taught.
She’s not famous, not rich, but there’s room for hope, for the possibility of what might be. And that, in the end, is enough to satisfy her.
Author: Missy (
rise_your_dead)Fandom: How I Met Your Mother
Pairing/Characters: Background Lily/Marshall; Lily charcter study
Rating/Category/Trigger and Content Warning: G; slice of life, character study
Word Count: 150
Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me, belongs to Carter/Bay etc.
Spoilers: general spoilers for Lily's character.
Summary: Lily knew what she wanted to be when she grew up
Notes/Warnings: Written for
gen_battle, prompt: art, rebellionWhen Lily turns six, she knows what she’s going to be. A Real Artist, like the people whose work hang on mommy’s wall. Color captivates her brain, driving her chubby fingers to clutch her thick colored pencils with undisguised glee.
Everything she sees ends up broken down into shapes and colors in her mind. At school, the highest honor is replicative homagery. She colors outside the lines and gets a check minus.
The older she gets, the more meaning art assumes in her life. For spring break, she saves and scrimps until she has enough to fly to Boston and drift through the Museum of Fine Art with Marshall’s loving but confused face right beside her. She streaks her dark hair with lines of aqua and gold until her degree demands hair of a less original hue.
By the time she’s a mom, by the time she has studio space of her own, she’s got enough gumption to think of herself. Her paintings hang here and there in motel rooms, the living rooms of friends and the parents of kids she’s taught.
She’s not famous, not rich, but there’s room for hope, for the possibility of what might be. And that, in the end, is enough to satisfy her.
