Clone High Vincent Van Gogh X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Art p.1

Pairing: Vincent van Gogh x OC

Summary: Vincent meets the weird kids of Clone high - the poets.

Warnings: teenage awkwardness

A/N: I started watching Clone high ironically, but got too invested and so I am going to try and soothe my mind from the ending and my favourite character having little to no screentime by creating an OC. Enjoy and tell me if you’d like to see more of them!

Lunchtime at Clone high was the only time Vincent felt content and relaxed. 

He didn’t have many friends, nor was he popular, quite the opposite actually, his timid and quiet nature made him an easy target for the self-proclaimed gods of the school, like JFK. And contact is very hard to make when you automatically expect a rejection...

So naturally, Vincent really enjoyed every moment he got to spend around people without actually having to talk to any of them. Not that he’d consider any of the people occupying the table his friends. He never talked to them, outside or during school. The only thing that connected these so different people was that they were, in fact, seen as “nerds” or “losers”.

Still, listening to Newton and Edison argue about something he didn’t even bother to understand, while peacefully eating his lunch was something Vincent found relaxing.

This peaceful moment however, was soon interrupted by another person sitting hurriedly at the table.

“Edgar Allan Poe? What are you doing here?” asked Darwin in surprise, who, too, frequently occupied the “loser table”.

“Listen guys, I need your help.” said Poe, slightly out of breath. Edgar was a strange guy. Nobody really knew if he was a writer or a poet and he probably didn’t know either. Although he normally didn’t sit with the total outcasts, they never rejected him whenever he’d visit. They never really rejected anyone to be frank.

Poe liked to dress in really dark clothes. Somewhere between emo and goth, but unlike Joan, he was really commited to his aethetic. There hasn’t been a day that you wouldn’t see Edgar without his pale makeup on.

“Well, what’s the matter?” asked Edison, his argument with Newton interrupted by Poe’s arrival.

“Well, the poets are going to hang out and I need someone to bring with me!” wailed Poe. “Why don’t you just go alone?” asked Newton, waving his hand nonchalantly.

“Alone?! Have you ever hung out with the poets, Newton?!” Poe exclaimed in disbelief. “No, I haven’t. Because I’m a scientist. Listen, we’d like to help you, but you’re crying at the wrong table.” answered Isaac, who was getting annoyed. “Why don’t you just bring one of the writers?” asked Darwin, the others nodding in agreement. “Ah, I already tried, but nobody can stand them! Please guys, they’re not that bad, I promise!” Poe looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg. Edison snickered “Did you beg your writer friends like this too?” which prompted everybody to laugh.

Poe’s shoulders slumped “Well, thanks a lot guys.” he muttered sarcastically, before his eyes fell upon Vincent, who was pretending to be anywhere but not at the table. Poe’s face lit up “Vincent! You’re an artist, no? Sure you’d like to come with me?”

Everybody turned to face the quiet painter. This is exactly what Vincent did not want, to be the center of attention. He really didn’t want to go. From what he’s heard, what poets lack in their numbers, the compensate with eccentric personalities. He really did not want to judge someone he’s never met, but he had a feeling he would not do well around those people. But now everybody was staring at him, waiting for his response. Vincent could barely think things through under so much pressure-

“O-of course I’ll go!” his voice cracked and he could only laugh awkwardly, regretting those words the instant they left his mouth. “Splendid!” cheered Poe “I’ll pick you up at your dorm after school! Until then!” And thus, Poe left the table.

* * * * *

I’m not sure if I like this, so if you’d like a continuation, please tell me.

Beautiful things

Pairing: Vincent van Gogh x reader

Summary: A walk with your favourite classmate turns into a confession.

Warnings: fluff that may rot your teeth

A/N: I know very well that oc fics are amazing, but we all need some reader inserts with this tiny dood. And I am here to satiate your hunger. Requests are open!

An artist hungry for revenge. What crimes will he commit?

* * * * *

Vincent van Gogh. The man who owned your heart. No, not the original van Gogh, but rather his clone and coincidentally your classmate.

Your friends often asked you just why did you like him and you could offer them only a shocked stare, your eyebrows raising nearly to the top of your head.

How could you not like him?? You might sound cliche, but he just... he just wasn't like other guys. There was just something about the way he held himself, that awkward, shy appearance of his that made him look so adorable.

Or the way he concentrated while working on his masterpieces. His face might not tell much, but you could see the plethora of emotions swirling inside those blue wells you liked so much to get lost in.

Or the way he never rejected anyone's presence, even though he rarely talked to anyone who happened to be close to him.

And his smile...Oh, his smile.

It rarely showed and yet, when you were lucky enough to see it, you instantlu melted into a puddle and the only thing you could feel were the butterflies in your stomach. And you just wished you could be the reason of his smile.

After a long, long period of pining (that you later on found out was mutual) you finally mustered enough courage to tell him all this.

He probably wasn't expecting such a detailed confession and in the end you both ended up in tears, tears of love.

You loved to watch him paint, because it was his passion and he loved to capture you and your passion into one of his paintings.

As good as van Gogh's portraits were, you could not unsee his love for nature. If he could, he would spent all his free time outside, just...existing.

It was summer break now, perfect time for new couples to bond. So far you went on many amazing dates together, but last time you proposed that on the next date you two could just kick back and relax.

Your tiny boyfriend immediately perked up, saying that he knows the perfect spot. And how could you say no to those excited blue eyes of his?

One love text messages filled week later you found yourself waiting for Vincent near his house. He looked so handsome in his brown boots, straw hat and a brown messenger bag, you couldn't help but hug him tightly to your chest. Fortunately he didn't mind, feeling comfortable enough to snuggle up to your chest.

Vincent took your hand and sheepishly said "It's a bit of a walk, but you don't mind right?" You smiled and shook your head. How bad could a walk be?

"Vincent, when you said 'a walk', I didn't think it would mean a tour!" you said jokingly, huffing a laugh as sweat rolled down your forehead. Normally you wouldn't mind a 45 minute walk through nature, especially not with Vincent as your company, but the hot weather was killing you.

"I know, I know, but trust me, it'll be worth it once we get there! You'll see!" Stammered the young clone apologetically from few meters ahead of you.

Roughly ten minutes later Vincent jogged up to you, excited like a puppy "Alright, close your eyes (Y/N), and don't open them until I tell you." You did as he said and the next thing you feel is Vincent taking your hand and tugging you through the forest you were currently walking through.

"Van Gogh, I swear to God, if I fall because of you, you're a dead man, understand?" From in front of you you heard him say "Loud and clear!" and then he mumbled a warning about a root you were approaching.

It wasn't long before you could feel sun hitting your closed eyes and you couldn't help but scrunch up your face, to which Vincent giggled accompanied by that cute snort of his.

He let go of your arm and stood next to you as he said in a low voice "Alright, you can open them."

And the view sure was worth it, you had to give him that. You had no idea how the hell did Vincent find this place, but to find a place so pretty in this time was difficult.

Vincent led you to a lovely opening, a quiet meadow in the middle of woods, with a small pond a bit ahead of you.

"Wow, you truly outdone yourself van Gogh." you said in awe "How come you haven't painted this place? I'm sure it would look amazing." you turned to look at him. Vincent shrugged "Haven't had the time yet."

You nodded and wiped the sweat off your brow. Then you turned to look at the pond "How deep do you think it is?" Vincent turned to look with you and shrugged "Not much, it's more of a big puddle than anything."

But that was enough for you. Soon enough the two of you were sitting on the edge of the small pond or...really big puddle, as Vincent called it, your legs resting comfortably in the cool water. You guessed that there could be water up to your knees and loads of mud that could swallow you whole.

As you made yourself comfortable on the fluffy meadow grass, Vincent sat next to you and pulled a sketchbook out from the messenger bag he carried all the way here.

"You could've painted it today, y'know?" you told him, but he only shook his head "No, I want to concentrate on us today." he said as he started sketching the little piece of heaven. "And you'll remember how it looks here?" Vincent only nodded his head.

The atmosphere was peaceful, almost lulling you to sleep, the only sounds being the slight hum of the wind blowing through trees and the scratching of Vincent's pencil. It was....beautiful.

Suddenly a question came up in your mind. You turned to look at your beloved boyfriend "What do you think is beautiful Vincent?"

Vincent stopped sketching at looked at you in slight surprise, caught off guard by this particular question. He thought for a bit before responding "Well, nature is very beautiful. And all the moments I spend with you are beautiful. And...When those two combine like this...That's even more beautiful."

A stupid smile formed on your face, your cheeks heating and the urge to smother him in love becoming irresistible.

"Well what about you?" Vincent piped up.

"I also think nature is beautiful." you said slowly, Vincent nodding in agreement "Literature is also beautiful... But I guess the most beautiful thing in my world...is you."

Vincent whipped his head to look at you, his cheeks turning bright red "What, what do you mean? How?" he said meekly.

You smiled sweetly at him "Well, you yourself are so beautiful in so many ways, inside and outside. And when I'm with you, all those beautiful things that are sometimes so hard to see, are even better, just because of you." You started waving your hands in the air, showing him what you mean, not noticing the small tears welling up in his eyes "It's like there's all the beautiful stuff" you made a big circle in the air with your arms "and in the center, like kings in those medieval paintings, is you."

You barely had any time to properly breathe in, when Vincent laid down next to you, hugging you tightly and hiding his face in the crook of your neck, which quickly became wet with tears.

You slowly pulled your legs out of the pond, draping one of them over Vincent, one of your arms sneaking around him, the other tangling in his hair as you pressed soft kisses to the crown and top of his head and bandages, doing whatever you could to not shed tears yourself.

And as you held each other in the quiet piece of heaven, there was nowhere you'd rather be.