#Been messing around with color palettes

[maxwell-mtv]

You ever get home from your 9 to 11 job where you are constantly pining for the new farmer's affection just so they don't run you out of a job? Haha yeah me neither...

[humanmorph]

THE SHIT THAT YOU HATE / DON'T MAKE YOU SPECIAL

oh gucci

[dukeofqueers]

Patron Saint of Holding Onto Pain.

[lezbiansolidsnake]

errmmmm hi everyone. some stuff ive drawn!!!!!!!!!!!

[naniwatig3r]

CONTOUR LINES (18+)

Mingyu x artstudent!Femreader

Summary: You’ve finally broken up with your boyfriend Mingyu. Ignoring him has been hard, but you were finally at peace. But he had other plans, as he shows up to the figure drawing class you T.A…. And as the model.

Warnings: Unexplained breakup (im lazy lol), angst, cute fluff sometimes, art school stress, public nudity, public unprotected penetrative sex (no one is around though!), quickie

a/n: this was a idea i got while messing around with my friend who has a thing for mingyu, lol.

Word count: uhhh, around 7k ? I can’t remember 😅

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Another miss call.

Great, you thought, the tenth missed call from your ex boyfriend Mingyu this week.

It’s been about a month since you broke up with your ex, Kim Mingyu. It was an odd pairing in the first place. You met him coincidentally in the quad the beginning of the year, as you sat at the edge of the school fountain. Your sketchbook open, as you drew the scenery and people around you. A normal activity you did as an arts student.

You were clearly in the zone, drawing the fold in a random college student’s arm, before a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Whoa, you can draw.”

Your eyes snap up, seeing a towering figure, completely blocking your view. No shit, you thought.

“Yeah, I guess.” You say plainly, hoping your short answer would deter this guy. But then the sunlight is back on the page you’re drawing, and you feel his warm presence sit right next to you. Maybe he’s just sitting down to sit down, so you try and finish your life drawing of the current student, but they were gone. Probably going to their next class.

Huffing, you still for a moment to put your pencil down.

“I wish I could draw like that,” You hear, as you glance to your side. Furrowing your eyebrows in irritation as the man leans over to stare directly into your sketchbook. “You’re a really good drawer.” He says in awe.

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” You say curtly, as he continues to stare at your sketches like he’s at a museum. These sketches were nothing compared to a Degas or something, yet he stared at them like it was, his brown eyes flickering around in interest.

He clears his throat, as he looks up to meet your eyes. He smiles, a toothy one where you notice how sharp his canines were. Cute.

He pulls his sleeve up from his wrist to his elbow, holding his large hand out, “Mingyu. Kim Mingyu.” He says, introducing himself. You nod, reluctantly shaking his hand, his grip tight and strong.

“Y/n.” You say back shortly, eyeing him, wondering how long this tall man was going to bother you.

He lets go of your hand, as he adjusts his position to turn more towards you. One leg over the other, leaning forward. His bangs falling so perfectly across his eyebrow, that it made you narrow your eyes. It’s crazy, people like this seriously exist huh?

“Do you do art or something?” No shit.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m a fine arts major.” You respond, giving him a strained polite smile. It felt like you had to, the way this guy has been beaming at you like a puppy as you give the driest replies.

He grins, “Whoa, no way. Thats cool,” He praises, “I’m—“

The rest of the meet cute didn’t matter.

After this, you kept bumping into him, coincidence you thought at first, but thinking back… he had no reason to be near the art school area of the campus.

He always asked to see your sketchbook, or whatever was in your portfolio folder as you tried to get to your studio. Even helping you carry your supplies and folders inside, and once he learned where you worked he came with iced coffee when he could.

At 3 am, he’d lay on the floor of your messy studio, watching you as you mix another color on your palette. Your sweatshirt pushed to your elbows, paint on your hands and face as you work on the gigantic canvas for your final.

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” You say a bit softly, your eyes tired despite your multiple energy drinks. “It must be boring to watch me throw paint for the last few hours.”

He shakes his head, sitting up as he looks at you with his puppy like eyes. “No, I like it. You’re so focused…” He trails, “I didn’t think art would be this hard.”

You glare at him for that remark, making him immediately tread back. His mouth gaping open and closing like a fish, “Ah! Not like that it’s easy — just that you’re so passionate you know?” He explains, throwing his hands around.

Rolling your eyes, you put your brush back into the muddy cup of water. “Why? Engineering not doing it for you?” You ask lazily, as you pull your claw clip out of your hair. Massaging your scalp from the tension.

Mingyu’s eyes focused on you, his cheeks slightly flushing. Eyes roving over how strands of your hair effortlessly frame your face. He clears his throat, “Uh, no. I like it. I’ve always been good at studying, and I get the material so,” He says, as he scratches his head.

“But I guess, it’s different watching you. Your eyes are different when you’re drawing, painting, sculpting. Whatever.” He says quietly.

“Different?” You muse, standing up to stretch your legs. Mingyu following instinctively, his tall frame dwarfing you.

He nods, “Mhm, yeah. I thought art was just a major for people who didn’t want to do anything, but getting to know you…” he says, as he follows you to your studio table. As you open the most recent energy drink you got from the vending machine. “You just don’t stop. Like you’re meant to do it.” He breathes.

His genuine words make you raise an eyebrow, turning to him. You give him a small smile, making his heart rate jump. “Yeah? It’s like you, I think.” You say, taking a sip of that battery acid of a drink. “I’ve just been doing this since forever. Natural to keep going.” You say nonchalantly, but Mingyu looks at you like you’re a living genius.

“Thats whats so cool,” He gushes, “You’re just made to do this.” He says, as he glances at your current work in progress. A large canvas with pleasing colors, his eye being drawn to the right areas. The beautifully rendered figure, framed with all the right strokes.

He looks back at you, with such an adoration you think it’s hallucinations from doing so many allnighters.

“Ah,” he starts, as he moves his long legs to shuffle through his bag, pulling out some tupperware. “I forgot, I was making uh, some dinner earlier and I had leftovers.” He lies, knowing full well he made it for you. He turns around, opening the tupperware to reveal a lunch box of different side dishes and protein. It could rival any meal inspo on pinterest, as he even carefully cut out seaweed to make cute faces.

You snicker, making Mingyu’s cheeks pink. “Leftovers huh?” You say, as you grab the lunchbox from him. Your fingers brushing over his, a welcome warmth from the cold air conditioning of the studio. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I was just gonna make some ramen.”

“Yeah no problem,” He strains, smiling. “You need energy to keep on going right? At least eat well if you’re gonna sacrifice your sleep.”

You take a bite, and even though it was cold, you nod in approval at the taste. The annoyingly large man could cook. Your reaction makes Mingyu grin, as you can see shamelessly how much that did to his ego.

“Still, you should go you know?” You say, as you remember Mingyu talking about his week a few days ago as you painted. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

Oh? He doesn’t focus on the fact that you’re asking him to go. Only that you remembered his schedule. He grins, “You remembered huh?”

You roll your eyes, “Of course I did. You told me.” You say, your own cheeks reddening from how embarrassed you felt from Mingyu’s reaction. Why was he so excited?

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, I was reviewing earlier. It’s in the afternoon anyways.”

You finish the lunchbox, washing it down with your energy drink before going to pick up a new large paint brush. “Fine by me then,” you sigh, not bothering to argue with him. It was weird the first time he accompanied you on an allnighter, but Mingyu’s presence became a normal occurrence since then.

And there he was, sitting obediently like a dog next to you as you continued painting. Your playlist ending hours ago, as the only sounds are the strokes of your brush, and the breathing of both of you.

It was like this for a while, until near the end of the year. This time, you were running out of steam.

Maybe it was all the all nighters the whole year, or the fact you got sick right before finals, but you were stuck in your studio once more. Slaving away as you work on your third painting of the night, trying to get your exhibition finished before sunlight.

You hear the sound of the door opening. He had his own key now — you copied one at one point since he always was knocking. Mingyu coming in with late night take out in one hand, clad in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, ready to tackle the night with you.

You don’t even bother looking behind you, his familiar presence and cologne already telling you who it is. “Hey,” He says softly, putting the food down as he notices your tired state. It was like you were running on fumes, the amount of empty redbulls and monsters around your studio telling him all he needed to know.

You grunt, “Yeah, hey.” You say tiredly, as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. Paint smearing on your cheek. Mingyu comes over with a napkin from the takeout container, huffing as he wipes your cheek with it.

“Whens the last time you took a break?” He asks, a bit worried. Despite hanging out with you for so long, he wouldn’t say he knew anything about art. But he knew you. And the way your wrist movements against the canvas were sluggish, and the way your eyebrows furrowed as the strokes didn’t land and look the way you wanted… he knew you were at your limit.

“Doesn’t matter, I have another painting after this.” You say roughly, “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I should have painted when I was sick. At least worked on the concepts and colors so I didn’t have to figure it out right now.” You rant, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

Mingyu frowns, “No, y/n. What about a fifteen minute break? I got burgers, it’ll help.” He says, but your face isn’t budging, like the strict deadlines for the paintings.

You curse, “God, Mingyu, I can’t stop. All the fucking pieces look like shit, if I stall any longer I’ll never finish this ass of an exhibition.” You say shakily, as you haphazardly throw your brush into the water cup, the muddy water splashing out. You grab another brush to pick up a new color.

He looks around the 10 other pieces littered around the room drying, he doesn’t get it, and he never would. They all looked great, cohesive despite your protests. “Y/n, they look great. You gotta take a break you know? Maybe it’ll help. Maybe your eyes will like, reset or something. You’ve been looking at this painting for hours.” He says, trying to reason.

You don’t listen, as you flick your wrist harshly to create a quick line of color.

clack!

You wince, dropping your brush to clatter on the floor. Your wrist acting up at the worst time, as you curse under your breath. Mingyu’s hands go up instinctively to hold your wrist, holding it still.

“God, now my wrist is flaring up too. Great, just what I need!” You curse bitterly, your head down.

Mingyu holds your wrist gently, despite your angry state you don’t push him away as he gingerly inspects your wrist. “Hey, come on. Lets take a break, and then we can wrap your hand alright?” He says softly, trying to coax you.

He leans down to see your hidden face, and it breaks his heart. Hot tears welling in your eyes from stress, frustration, and the impending deadline.

He doesn’t think twice, leaning down to hold you into an embrace, pulling you off your stool into his arms. Tight, the tips of your shoes barely grazing the floor. You can’t help but cry into his shoulder, “God, why am I so bad? I can’t show anyone any of this,” You sob, as Mingyu rubs your back. His grip tightening around you, holding you close as you basically collapse into his arms.

“Hey, y/n, you’ve just been working too long. Lets take a break alright? It’ll look better once you rest your eyes a bit, I promise.” He coos, “I’ve got some burgers and sweet potato fries, even convinced them to give me extra —“

“Mingyu, why are you always here?” You ask bluntly, choking back your tears. Through the whole year you’ve been tolerating him getting closer. First, random conversations when you bumped into each other on campus, then visiting the art school, coming to your studio, staying to keep you company. You never once tried to push him away, but you didn’t understand how he hasn’t been turned off yet. Your all nighters, your insecurities, the way you reject his invitations to campus parties and events to work. It was all a mystery, especially as you crash out in his arms, over some acrylic and oil on canvas. This must look pathetic to him.

His eyes are a bit panicked at the question, “I uh, do you not want me to be?” He asks reluctantly, still holding you close.

You sniff, your hand against his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie into your fist.

“No, I just... Thank you.” You say quietly into his chest, and Mingyu felt his head spin. You could definitely hear it, he thought, the way his heart was pounding out his chest. How you relied on him, telling him to stay. If it wasn’t for the fact you were leaning on him to stay up, he’d probably melt into a puddle on the floor.

Mingyu takes you to the table, helping you sit down on one of the comfier chairs. A foldable one with a pillow he brought at one point, so he could watch you comfortably. He boasted once — y/n look! Found this by the dumpster!

You let out a deep sigh as you sit down, Mingyu bending down to his knees to look at you eye level. A hand to your cheek as you close your eyes tiredly. “Hey, you okay?” He asks, searching your face.

You nod, “Yeah, um, sorry,” You sigh, “I’m just — I’m just stressed. I didn’t mean to have a breakdown in front of you.” You say apologetically, embarrassed by it. But he shakes his head, not affected by it. In fact, it probably caused him to fall harder, seeing how hard you work.

“Don’t apologize,” He says, pushing strands of your hair back. You look up at him, straight into his brown eyes. The way he looks at you so fondly, worried, that his bottom lip juts out slightly as he observes you. The way his fingers felt along your cheek, how he’s warmed you up in the cold room, brought takeout for you.

Fuck, how his hair is tousled under the hood, and the fact his face was a sight for sore eyes after looking at your paintings all day. Something with actual 3d planes staring at you, instead of flat canvas. Maybe it was the all nighters, the fact you’re on multiple energy drinks on an empty stomach, or that Mingyu is there for you.

You lean forward, shutting your eyes shut as you push your lips against his.

It’s warm, soft… might even get lost in it if—

You pull back after a second, as you see Mingyu’s wide eyes.

Oh fuck, did you read this wrong? Shit, at least you can blame it on lack of sleep—

A pair of lips crash into yours again, this time, you part yours as Mingyu’s warm lips mold into yours. Its warm, and comforting and everything nice, as you grab his collar to pull him closer. Making him stumble forward as he holds onto the edge of the chair to steady himself close to you.

You let out a soft breath as Mingyu snakes his free hand around to the small or your back, pushing you close as possible to him. Mingyu compensating for your lack of energy with his, as he kisses you deeply, something he’s always wanted to do. Every since he watched you draw random people at that campus fountain.

He pulls back as you pathetically try to chase his lips, as he kisses you chastely before speaking. “Y/n,” He breathes, “Fuck, you don’t know how long I wanted to do that.” He confesses, as he holds your face in his large hands.

You smile softly, “Mingyu, I—“

The box of charcoals clatter, as you accidentally drop it right next to the table of supplies. Sheepishly you bow at the students in class, not meaning to disrupt their focus.

You bend down to pick up the charcoal. What are you doing? It may be the third figure drawing class today, but dropping a box of pencils as you recount your days with Mingyu was horrible. Terrible.

Especially when you boasted to one of your friends as you shared a meal, Ah, Kim Mingyu? Thats over. Lets just focus on grad review.

You sigh, standing back up as you slide the box of art supplies on the table. Checking the time, you slide the notifications of Mingyu’s missed calls away. It was five minutes before class started, where the hell was the model?

And as if on cue, the other T.A. comes skitting towards you, pushing her glasses up as she avoids the boxes of supplies around the room. “Ah, Y/n—“ She starts, talking quietly to not cause alarm.

She stops in front of you, as you furrow your brows. Today the professor wasn’t in. As the consistent T.A., she trusted you to handle today with no substitutes. It wasn’t anything hard. You just helped set up the drawing horses and supplies, adjusted the lights and made sure the models were comfortable. It was easier especially when another T.A. was assigned to assist you today.

“Hm? What?” You ask, as you dust your hands.

She takes a deep breath, “Um, well, the model got food poisoning.” She starts. Leaning in so other students didn’t hear. “I just learned this right now, she’s like in the bathroom in the main hall throwing up like crazy.”

You frown, “What? Is she okay?” You say, straightening up, walking towards the front door grabbing your jacket off one of the stray art horse chairs.

She follows clumsily, “She’s fine! But she can’t model for this class. I know you’re in charge, but I panicked and just called whoever was on the emergency model list.”

You stop, causing the other T.A. to bump into your back, with a little squeak. A small what should have been insignificant memory flooding back.

“You’re TAing now? Seriously?” Mingyu asks lightly, as he fiddles with a loose strand of your sweater, the rough pads of his fingers pulling on it.

You slap his hand away disapprovingly, causing him to pout. “Yeah, just for figure drawing. I want to make a little money anyways, but working at the campus cafe is too time consuming.” You respond, as you continue to draw in your sketchbook. Outlining the foliage in front of you with your pen.

“Hm, what would that mean?” He asks, leaning forward to wrap an arm around your shoulder. Careful not to disturb your drawing, as he rests his chin on your closer shoulder. Watching you draw was his favorite past time nowadays.

“Just like, setting up, taking care of the figure drawing models. Things like that.” You respond absentmindedly.

“Models? Like, thats a job?” He asks, making you crack a smile. You forget how normal people knew nothing about art. You’re just glad he was openminded about basically everything.

You turn to look at him, “Yeah, the school hires people to pose for drawing. Its for studying.” You respond, as you tap your pen against the tip of his nose, where his beloved mole resided. Making him scrunch his nose, the corners of his lips turning up.

“Actually, I should write the emergency contact list. The professor updates every semester of models to contact if theres no shows, and the et cetera. I should just do it now so I don’t forget —“

“Add me on there then.”

You blink.

“Huh, what?” You say confused, looking at him with raised brows.

He straightens up, “You heard me. Add my number to that list. It sounds interesting,” He defends, his tone light.

You shake your head, smiling. “Mingyu, you don’t get it. You have to stand there naked, and do different poses every five to thirty minutes. Its not an easy thing to do.” You say, dismissing his words as nonsense. Sometimes he was too eager to try things just because they existed in your world.

Mingyu doesn’t falter. “Yeah I know. I just, it sounds cool. Also having a bunch of people drawing me, I don’t know… sounds nice. Also its like emergency contact right?” He says shrugging, “It’s not like it’ll actually happen. I know you’d never call me if it was an emergency, but just add me on it. If all models decide they’re not feeling it that day.” He suggests lightly.

You stare at him still in disbelief, narrowing your eyes. He scoffs, leaning forward to lean his forehead against yours as a challenge. A little goofy smile on his face, “What? Come on. Just add me to the list.”

The rational side of you knew this would never actually happen. Mingyu had no qualifications, and besides, there was a dozen other numbers to call before him. So you suck it up, sighing, writing his name down. Just for the sake that he’d shut up about it.

“Okay, fine.”

Your heart beats, eyes wide as you try to calm yourself. You didn’t want to release your anger against this girl for trying to fix the situation. It was your fault, really, in the first place to put his number on there. But this never was something that has happened before.

“Which number picked up?” You ask calmly, clasping your hands together as you focus on not exploding on your fellow T.A.

“Uh, just called the first one. He said he was on campus so he was down, and we only have five minutes till class—“

“Jesus, his name please?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

Oh fuck. Fuuuucckkkkk.

Mouth wide, and panicked eyes, you start to speak, before you hear the opening of the classroom door. You turn, and your face practically goes pale.

There he was — Kim Mingyu, just in a simple coat and pants. His eyes immediately landing on you. Its only been a month, but he cut his hair. Slightly shorter than you remember, as you tilt your head.

Stop it. You have to act normal.

You take a deep breath, trying to act professional. There was no time to question why the hell he’d even pick up and walk all the way here. Or why your heart was beating so fast, just looking at him.

“Um, escort him to the dressing room area.” You start, prying your eyes from Mingyu to the other T.A. “There should be a clean robe there too.” You inform, patting her arm as you beeline straight away from them.

You find a haphazardly stacked amount of newsprint, focusing on making all the edges match as you calm your heart. It’s fine, it really is.

For some reason Mingyu was interested in figure drawing modeling before. Maybe he just wanted to cross that off his bucket list, and had nothing to do with you.

The other T.A. comes back to stand beside you, “Is he comfortable?” You ask.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just seems a little inexperienced,” She responds, scratching her cheek. “He asked if he had to take all his clothes off, and I was like, huh? Yeah? But other that that—“

“Yeah, alright.” You interrupt dryly. “Thank you. I’ll just take over after this.” You say, as you grab the timer from the table.

You walk towards the center, clearing your throat as the art students look up. “Right, hi. Professor Kang isn’t here today, but don’t mind. Today will be quite an easy day.” You start, crossing your arms.

Your eyes immediately follow to the ruffle of the dressing curtain, as Mingyu walks out in a fluffy robe. Brown eyes meet yours, and for a second you think this will be fine. Until the corners of his lips turn up, into a toothy grin only you knew so well.

That motherfucker. Bucket list my ass, he said yes just to mess with you!

You turn away sharply, focusing back on the class. “The model today is Kim Mingyu.” You say shortly, before stepping off the small platform.

You gesture for Mingyu to walk to the center, your face stone cold as you watch him step onto the platform.

He clears his throat, “Do I take the robe off now?” He asks cluelessly.

Great, just show everyone you have no clue what you’re doing. If this was a few months ago, it’d be cute. But Mingyu standing hopelessly waiting for instructions was annoying you, to say the least.

You nod, and immediately, he undoes his robe and lets it fall to the floor.

You can’t help but stare. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your body tense. Stop stop stop! You couldn’t give him a reaction. As an artist, it was normal to see naked bodies. It wasn’t a sexual thing, especially in figure drawing. But Mingyu wasn’t just an old man or something. He was a conventionally attractive, tall, well built man. In more places than one.

“Oh shit, he’s hot.” The other T.A. whispers to you, covering her mouth. You bite back your embarrassment, as you just send her a glare for her unprofessional reaction.

It doesn’t help that other people around the room are pleasantly surprised by Mingyu, as I see pink dusting around people’s cheeks. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Holy shit, a hot model. Is this real?”

“I thought we had a middle aged woman today. Bro… score!”

“I’ve never stared so closely.”

“Alright, warm ups. Ten one minute poses.” You say plainly, holding up the timer and pressing down on it. Immediately, Mingyu nods, springing into action.

His poses were something else. They were a bit awkward, as he stood there. First putting his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

But he started getting more comfortable. After the ten one minute poses were up, the other T.A. Adds a stool to the platform for Mingyu to sit on.

“One pose, 15 minutes.” You say, setting the timer again.

This time instead of looking at the ground, wall, or ceiling, he stared straight at you. His eyes unwavering. The sight makes your mouth go dry, as the studio lights enhance Mingyu’s features perfectly.

His face framed by the little curl of his bang, light bouncing off his tanned skin as the definition of his muscles are on display. The way his large shoulders balance his proportions, and his skin smooth and tightly wrapped around his toned torso. He always was working out, and it seemed like he kept that up, as your eyes trail from his abs to his bottom half. Your cheeks flushing as he’s so unabashedly bare in front of the whole room.

But it only propelled your anger. How could he? Just step into your domain — the art school wing — and just come here? Posing like a gangly weirdo, riding on his looks so none of the students complained. Staring straight into your eyes as a confrontation. So much it felt like he was telepathically speaking to you.

Why aren’t you returning my calls? Or, how does this make you feel? It was infuriating.

And as if satisfied in your attention on him, he smirks, like he won some imaginary battle. This idiot.

The timer rings, making you flinch against the supply table. Your cheeks flush slightly, as you clear your throat. “Another 6 poses, each 2 minutes.” You manage to choke out, pressing the timer.

As the figure session goes on for the next hour, Mingyu’s confidence was starting to irritate you to no end. At first what was awkward, was now overtly dramatic. His poses of showing off his muscles, flexing his back, it was too much. People were here to draw, not ogle.

You decided to play, not wanting Mingyu to have the upper hand. As Mingyu goes to pick up the robe off the ground, you yell, “Stop right there!”

Mingyu freezes immediately, mainly out of confusion. His eyes drifting to you, a slight furrow of his brows.

“Now, the model will stay still. Do you see how the arm connects to the shoulder blades? Please turn to a new paper and start focusing on that area.” You say, stopping Mingyu in an uncomfortable position in the name of education.

You eye how his leg starts to shake from holding it, but it only fuels you. “Now focus on the thigh muscle, we’ll hold this pose for another 3 minutes.” You say, a little glee seeping into your voice.

Mingyu’s eyes shooting up to glare at you, as you cock your head and smile.

You push Mingyu to do crazy things, like pretending to do a lay up for 10 minutes to talk about line of action. Or when you asked the students to move in closer to draw his face, having twenty people at once hyper fixate on his expression. Now, the class was fun. You completely turned it around.

The timer rings. “Alright, lunch break.” You say, as it’s half way through the 6 hour class.

Theres a collective sigh of relief, as students massage their wrists, and Mingyu putting his robe back on, but loosely. Letting his chest peek out through the fabric, as he walks around the room.

You watch as he circles, smiling and complimenting others.

“Wow, thats really good.”

“Whoa, really love how you drew that one.”

“Is that how I look? I’m flattered! Thanks.”

You huff, looking away as you catch a glimpse of him leaning over a pretty girl’s shoulder as she shows her sketches. Purposefully letting the loose robe drape his exposed chest as he examines the drawings.

Students get up to stretch their bones outside, getting lunch during the break. The other T.A. goes to check on something, leaving only you and Mingyu in the figure drawing room.

You stand, ignoring him as you walk towards the platform, readjusting the power of the studio lights. “Next part of the class is long poses,” You say, twisting the knob. “So it’ll be harsh lights. you just have to sit there, it’ll easy.”

You turn back around, Mingyu looking at you with a small smile, barely a yard away. His hands on his hips, as he looks down at you. “You know,” He drawls, his voice low. “This was a lot more fun than I thought.”

“Is it?” You respond bitterly, “Well I’m glad. Because you’re not gonna be paid for this.” You inform him, as Mingyu isn’t a real model signed with the school.

“Thats okay, I’m getting what I wanted anyways.”

You sigh, as you cross your arms. Deciding not to beat around the bush.

“What are you doing here, Mingyu?” You ask tiredly, finally looking at him straight, your brows furrowed. You boldly looking into his playful eyes.

His smug expression softens, almost reminiscent to how he would look at you before everything. He takes his bottom lip under his teeth, chewing as he looks at you.

“You seriously need me to answer that? Like always?” He says quietly, but with only you two in the studio, he could whisper from across the room and you’d still catch it.

“What, like you actually answer me with anything that makes sense?” You respond back tightly. Sighing, you relax your shoulders, biting your cheek as you glance away from him. A student’s messy pencil case catching your attention, albeit forced.

A deafening silence falls. Mingyu never really liked to fight anyways.

“You’re, you’re difficult, you know that?” He starts, as he ruffles his hair with his hand, as if that would release his pent up frustration. “When I got the random phone call that you guys needed a last minute model, I thought for a second it was intentional.”

He takes a step closer, “But of course not. You looked like you saw a ghost when I walked in.”

You gulp, “Well, to be fair, thats what you are now.” You say quietly. Avoiding his eyes.

“Oh? So I’m just dead to you?”

“No, that would be easier.” You snap, finally looking back to face his eyes. Mingyu’s jaw clenched, his eyebrows knitted, trying to figure you out like an abstract art piece.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a disappointed huff. “y/n.” He starts firmly, in a tone he barely used.

But of course, directed to you, making your skin crawl in the overly air conditioned room.

Hands on his hips, as he takes a long breath, his head facing down as he hides his expression. “For an artist, you’re really shit at expressing your feelings.” He sighs, his bangs hiding whatever you could gather from him.

“Fine.” He concludes, looking up, his shoulders more relaxed. “I’ll stop bothering you about it, since you’re so sure.” He says throwing his arms out. “On one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, wary of whatever condition he was gonna propose. Mingyu could be unpredictable when you pushed him, making the hair at the back of your neck stand.

“Draw me.” He says finally. He glances at the clock on the wall, “They still have that lunch break. So just draw me at least once, before everyone comes back.” He proposes, turning around to walk casually to the platform, as if he’s assuming you would just do it.

Is he serious? You weren’t even together anymore, and yet he wants a free commission from you? Thats crazy, like you’d ever —

“Fine.” You say curtly, “Since you’re so desperate for my attention anyways.” You quip, walking over to the supply table, making sure your shoes stomp against the hard floor. You swipe some spare paper, clipboard, and some charcoal.

The second you were at an art horse in front of Mingyu though, your fire waned slightly. The dead silence of the room was deafening, as you adjust your clipboard. The sound of the metal clips thumping against the paper, the feet of the art horse squeaking as you adjust sitting on the worn wood.

When you gaze up at Mingyu, it was obvious. He really was getting what he wanted, and it was your undivided attention.

Once ready, the charcoal in your hand, Mingyu sits down on the stool, eyes steady on you as he grips the already loose tie around his robe with his large hand. Letting it fall, as he exposes himself once more in the bright lights you set up yourself. He kicks the robe away off the platform, set on you drawing him like this.

You blink back any feelings that threaten to show on your face, readjusting the charcoal in your hand as you avoid Mingyu’s eyes, pressing down to finally start a line.

Its been a while since you last drew figures, and it usually took an hour of continuous drawing before you really found your pace in figure drawing sessions. But it was different this time.

Your heart beats in your ears, a silence of the room highlighting the sound of your charcoal smearing against the newsprint — the sounds of your breathing and of Mingyu’s, as time passes. Agonizingly slowly, yet a focus every artist aches for.

Your hand moves accordingly. Outlining the contour of his silhouette, the way his neck slopes, the soft lines that shape his abs he always was working on. Pressing for pressure with your charcoal as you indicate the weight of him sitting on the stool, hands in his laps loose as you capture his likeness with ease.

But the focus doesn’t last for long, especially when you flicker your eyes back to his. Already flicking a stroke to mimic his right eyelid, before you still. Pressing the tip of your charcoal into the paper, crumbling against the grain as you stare into his large brown eyes.

Fuck. What are you even doing?

Why are you drawing him so intently, when you vowed just a while ago that you never wanted to see Mingyu again?

Your breath hitches, as you raise your arm, flickering back to your drawing. Charcoal in the air, swinging to run a huge line through your figure of him, to smear it, to destroy it, to —

Your wrist stops mid air, as you feel a warm grip tightening around you. Eyes wide, you unfocus on the paper, to look up. Somehow in your tiny melt down Mingyu got down from the platform.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. Jaw tense, “You were just gonna ruin it, weren’t you?” He asks you quietly.

You can’t help but knit your brows, a pained expression forming that matches the one in his eyes.

The charcoal clatters out of your hand, landing on the floor in broken pieces.

Tears start welling in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling. “You’re right,” You start shakily, “I don’t know… how to address anything unless I’m drawing.” You say weakly.

Mingyu’s eyes soften slightly, swallowing hard as the bright lights highlight the contour of throat bobbing. “Yeah, seems like it.” He replies carefully. You expected him to use this as a told you so, maybe give you a smug smile, like, I knew you weren’t over me.

But Mingyu was never like that anyways. No matter how much he craved your attention, he also wanted your peace of mind. A hard thing to ask from an artist like you.

His grip on your wrist softens, as he kneels down, getting eye level with you as you still sit on the art horse. Holding your hand in his, rubbing a thumb over the veins on the back of your hand gently.

“I miss you.” You finally muster, your eyes focused on his.

“I miss you too.” He responds back, before cracking a small smile.

You strain your brows into a furrow, blinking back the warm tears you naturally formed from the vulnerable moment. A shaky huff also coming out of you, as you decide to lean forward.

Inching your face closer, until the tip of your noses brush, Mingyu stiffening slightly as you shyly graze your lips against his lips. A small breath escaping his lips, fanning over yours before you finally part them.

Your lips against his — it was like home. Finding your way back after such a tumultuous and useless road. The warmth of his lips seeping into you, Mingyu as relieved as you are. His hands finding its way to the sides of your face, pulling you impossibly closer.

It only escalates, as you open your mouth wider to push your tongue against his, making Mingyu groan out as he meets you with similar enthusiasm.

He pulls you forward, off the art horse. Taking you down to the ground, maneuvering you until your back is against the hard floor. Covering you with his large frame, his weight pressing down on you in ways you were having such a hard time admitting you missed.

It was fast, and albeit messy and rushed. Like trying to make up for wasted time as you pull him close, hands wrapped around the back of his neck as your lips go numb, your teeth clashing.

You let out a whine, when Mingyu pulls away with a heavy breath, fighting against your attempts to pull him back for a kiss.

“Y/n — fuck, can we?” He asks hurriedly, his voice breathless. A look of want in his big eyes, but there was also a little responsibility.

First of all — anyone could walk into the studio any second. There was only a lunch break, sure, an hour. But at least half of it has passed.

As you take your bottom lip under your teeth, chewing at your swollen lip as you think. And Mingyu knows exactly what look you were giving him, and he wasn’t going to reject you. Not now.

He leans back in, crashing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, breath hot against yours, before moving to your jaw. Leaving open mouthed rushed kisses down your neck, as you move your hands down his back. Feeling the muscles you were forcing yourself to look away from during the whole first half of class.

Touching Mingyu was way better than just drawing him from afar. You’re sure on that.

He moves his hand down, to push your midi skirt up, bunching the fabric to your hips. Your legs exposed to the cold air of the studio, as he wastes no time to slide your panties to the side. Already wet and damp from the heavy making out, and partially to the adrenaline of being in such a risky place.

“Damn, already?” He says, with a slight tease to his voice, making you pinch his arm. He lets out a pained chuckle, before placing his thick fingers against yours core, a gasp escaping your lips.

It helped that he knew you so well already, your legs squirming around the sides of him as he runs his fingers through yours wet folds, his thumb circling your clit as he inserts two fingers in, stretching you out as you gasp, Mingyu attacking your neck with messy kisses as he gets you ready for him.

“Fuck, Gyu,” You whine, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he curls his fingers, hitting the spongy flesh that makes you arch your back off of the floor.

You weren’t the only one worked up, Mingyu being bare this entire time. His dick pressing up against the inner of your thigh, hardening at the sounds of your pleasure.

Your hand shoots down to grab hold of him, helping him get hard as he lets out a moan, as you tighten your grip. Pumping him a few times, lining him up to you as he removes his hand from your entrance.

You both let out soft gasps as you hold his dick to swipe against you, coating him in your arousal, his tip leaking with precum.

He doesn’t even ask, he just knows, as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch. The friction from your pulled to the side panties, to the tight warm walls of your pussy, making him feel lightheaded with pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” He breathes, without even adjusting, he ruts into you roughly. Bottoming out as he knocks the wind out of you.

A whine escapes your throat, as you hold tightly around his shoulders, as Mingyu doesn’t slow his pace.

Its rough, its fast, and overall — desperate. The lewd sounds of flesh colliding echoing in the empty studio. Your mind going dumb at his fast pace, only focused on how he goes in, out. In, out.

The smell of his sweat, the way your hands run down his exposed body, all for you. He did this all for you. To get your attention, to get you back. God, does he even know how that makes you feel?

“Fuck, fuck,” He whines, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Already feeling a little fatigued from abusing your pussy so fast. But it was just too good, he missed it so much. So, so much. And he made it evident, as he pushes the back of your thighs higher to your chest, getting deep as he can. And fucking you like his life counted on it.

You feel the familiar build up of your orgasm, your walls tightening as you grip Mingyu’s shoulders. “Gyu, Gyu, I’m —“ You manage to choke out, as he moves his face from your neck to yours. Catching your cry with his mouth, drowning it as he kisses you messily.

You shudder, squirming under him as you feel the familiar high. Your body tingling with sensitivity and pleasure, as he overwhelms you with what can only be love.

He follows soon after, not being able to maintain his mouth to yours as he lets out a shaky grunt. Spilling inside you, his cum warm and filling, making your cheeks flush in contentment and relief.

He slows, stilling as you both catch your breaths. Pulling out of you with a reluctance. Pushing himself up, to lean back to sit. You follow as well, adjusting your skirt back as you push yourself up to your elbows.

Mingyu was a sight, as he always is. His tan skin glowing with a layer of sweat. The way his toned chest rises from catching his breath. The way his bangs are sticking to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with a rush of blood. A satisfied look on his face, as he sighs, licking his bottom lip as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile, a warm one. As you gather yourself.

“Lets get you cleaned up before the second half. Where did you throw your robe?”

“Oh fuck. I don’t know. You got any other ones?”

[spaceratprodigy]

wip wednesday.. post deliris again.......

it's wip wednesday.. post deliris teaser.......

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 23/10✨

I'm LIVE on my TWITCH page drawing Spicynoodle! Come and say hi!

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok so your Bio parent AU (loving it so much by the way) takes place after season 5 right? I thought it would be cool if you touched on Monkey Kings issues with Mk using the circuit on him. I eat that stuff up. if its already going in a different direction then that's ok, just a suggestion.

Aww in the end I don't think I can fit this in the story. It's absolutely an amazing idea, and I had thought of adding it for so long, but in the end the final part of the story will go differently.

Anonimo ha chiesto: How do Wukong and Macaque react that they have two grandchildren?? (Kai and Nya)

Will probably die of emotions. The fact that that's both their son's son/daughter, and that's their nephew/niece. It would blow them away. I'll never have children, but they completely change your prespective.

@shadowpeachera ha chiesto: AGHHHHHH XIAOTIANS WEAPON IS SOOO COOOOLLL AND THE WAY YOUR SHOWED HIM MAKING IT AGHHHHHH SO GOOD HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO COME UP WITH THE DESIGN? THE COLOURS? THE EVERYTHING UGHH I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS COMIC AGHHH

I think I did a couple of sketches before the final design, but I went on pinterest quite a lot before to see some variations of magical staff

@beanspassin ha chiesto: Do you think Macaque and Wukong will ever find out about each other secretly checking the other out? Cause let’s face it, Wukong will get a MASSIVE ego boost when he finds out Macaque was staring at him. 🤭

I think Macaque can HEAR when Wukong is checking him out. Wukong probably would negate the fact that he's checking him out, bc my boy is just a mess of emotion

@tessthe-cheesecake ha chiesto: Hello! I just wanted to say I really love your Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU I just have two questions, one: how is MK handling four ears? I assume he doesn't like crowded places (if yes then me too bud me too) ok second question would MK ever go back to being Wukong's successor but in his own way instead? :)

I think MK doesn't want to be a successor bc he doesn't want to be the next Monkey King, but he still wants to be the Monkie Kid. Also, I think he might be starting to feel himself a little more like an heir then a successor

@minli-daughter-of-wukong ha chiesto: So, would you have changed MK’s weapon if you thought a staff wasn’t really his style anymore? Also how did you come up with the idea for the sunset staff and can you give tips on how to find the right kind of weapon you’d choose for a character? So this is so long lol

I aint real good with weapon/characters. This was my first time matching a weapon to a character to be honest. I wanted to create something that was similar to both Wukong's and Macaque's staff, but at the same time being something new. With a new color palette that could represent the kind of hero MK wants to be

@cavern-of-shenanigans ha chiesto: Ok ok ok this is kind of silly but MKs new staff kind of reminds me of a twirling baton So combined with Macaques showmanship and the scarf bit MK tied on, they could play around with it and do a joint shadow play/ribbon dance performance! Maybe add him into the hero warrior story? Nice mother son bonding activity because its cute

HA! true! they are performance duo!

@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: Hi love your fan art, story,and art style! What if piggsy and Tang went on a long trip and lives in flower fruit Mountain

I don't think freenoodle could survive living so close to shadowpeach

@italian-wizarding-world ha chiesto: Duuude i love, Love, LOVE!!! your art, and your Mk, Wu and Mama it's just too sweet, just two question: 1 Why sunset and not dawn? is it because usually sunset are more impresive? or maybe the staff has two "forms" depending on him using more his shadow powers and if so can he change between them? 2 We need red son reaction to Mk essentially magical girl transformation even if it's just a sparkling staff, because i think it would be epic/hilarious. We need more moment about them and Mei lookin at how dumb both are

I liked sunset because in a way MK started more with Sun powers and he is now discovering more his Macaque side of powers, so he's approaching a little bit the shadows (so his journey was from day to slowly twilight)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Have you ever thought about drawing an adult MK? I love your drawing style, and I wanted to see what an adult MK would look like, as well as Mei and Red Son. Você já pensou em desenhar um MK adulto? Eu amo seu estilo de desenho, e eu queria ver como seria um MK adulto, assim como Mei e Red Son.(I'm Brazilian by the way and I love reading your Au)

Maybe in the future....?

Anonimo ha chiesto: I REALLY REALLY REALLY LOVE NO ..I ADORE YOUR DRAWINGS MAN!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ EVERY DAY I REREAD THE WHOLE LMK COMICS OF YOURS..!!!!!!❤️❤️ And hey l have a quition!!! What if mk interrupted wukong while his meditation and like wukong thinks he's in the past what is he gonna do when he see mac!?🌝❤️ Probably we will see a lot of hugs and kisses?🥹

Can you imagine since they are so cuddly even if they aren't together yet again in the AU, that because of this Macaque for a good moment DOESN'T notice the difference?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we get a character sheet for chiyou?

nope sorry, but he will come back no worry

Anonimo ha chiesto: Who else wants to see Pigsy and Tang show Monkey King and Macaque pictures of MK growing up?

Aww I think Wukong and Macaque would die from cuteness but at the same time feel a great remorse that they weren't there for their child when he was little. They are glad freenoodle was with them, but still, It's a big chunk of his life that they missed.

@itz-izzyart ha chiesto: So with the noise canceling headphones, does mk wear them so he (hopefully) doesn’t start hearing the past again or is it just something he wears to help him sleep at night?

Both. It helps him muffle the noise.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Would Wukong get ptsd if MK somehow got a circlet himself ?

He would probably loose all his immortalities rather than let MK have a circlet.

@loseranddummy ha chiesto: I have a ≈question≈ is Peng gonna be in your lmk bio parent comic by chance?

mmmm nope, sorry

@oddogoblino ha chiesto: Beeeeeg monke armmssss...meant for hug jail...

yessss..... and cudlleeeeeee...

Anonimo ha chiesto: :D was macaque grooming mk while they were waiting for the weapon to be forged

yup!

Anonimo ha chiesto: HI! Hope you're well and staying hydrated. Would we/could we see more Lilo and Stitch refs for your ShadowPeach bio parents au? I saw the last one and couldn't stop laughing. 😆 Maybe a beach scene or something?

I'll have to see the movie again and I'll see if new idea come in my mind

Anonimo ha chiesto: Have you ever thought about that because Macaque was gone from the living world for so long he doesn't know how use modern technology. Like Wukong's phone will go off when he isn't there and Macaque can't figure out how to get the stupid thing to be quiet

They are both gay boomers, your honor

Anonimo ha chiesto: In your shadowpeach au who is a morning person and who is a night owl Macaque or Wukong?

none of them. Wukong sleeps like 12 hours and Macaque like 5. (but now he's sleeping more thanks to Wukong but still wakes up earlier than Wukong)

[agarthanguide]

Is there anything interesting you can say about Bells Hells new blue motif?

Well, I mean. I think they look like they're in mourning. I remember thinking that there was an x-men thing going on. They wanted to feel like a team, they wanted to be cohesive. But the FCG colors are like... it's dark gray, it's de-saturated blue. It's gilding. What looks very smiley indeed on a cute robot looks like deep mourning, to me.

It was kind of a mess, at first. Like we were adding these new colors to everyone's old colors. But then slowly things started to change.

Ashley has a really strong sense of palette. She picked flowers carefully, she's been slowly changing the colors in her staff, she really crafted Fearne's direction so well that by the time the final came around, the sketch wasn't pinging me as Off, any more. Chetney and Orym were just.. they both had these warm brown undertones in their earlier designs that got drained like blood. I think Laudna is expressing a lot of inner turmoil with her current design. So, try as she might, she's having trouble hanging on to the elements of FCG like the others are. Ashton's FCG memorial is way more outre and aggressive, which befits their very loud form of love. Imogen was already wearing FCG's colors!

[revelboo]

No pressure but are you planning on continuing the sunny and sides stories? It can be hard to find someone who writes for them. I love all your works though and are always excited to see what you've written!

I am, I just have… quite a few ongoing storylines at this point

Can’t Finish What you Started Pt 8

Sunstreaker x Reader, Sideswipe x Reader

• Stretched out on your belly, you yelp when a heavy box is dropped about a foot from your face, neck craning to glare up at Sunstreaker as he just stares right back, completely indifferent to your annoyance. Pushing up onto your knees to look into the box, your lips part. Because the big, yellow jerk has brought you art supplies. Charcoal sticks, canvases, pens, watercolor palettes, acrylic paints, and paper. “Did you rob a Hobby Lobby?” You ask, digging through the pile.

• Stiffening with a low growl, he hooks a servo inside the box to tug it away. “If you don’t want it,” he begins before you’re seizing the box with both hands and pulling it back toward you, expression almost afraid and he relents. “I didn’t steal anything. I used a holomatter avatar to retrieve the items and convinced the console funds were exchanged.”

• Convinced the console. Biting into the inside of your cheek to keep from blurting out the fact that he definitely stole it, because with his temper he will take it all away just to be petty. Mostly you’re surprised that he’d cared to begin with. That he’d been listening when you’d told Wheeljack you were an artist. “Thank you for this.”

• “Just don’t make a mess,” he growls, uncomfortable warmth spreading through his spark as you smile up at him before turning your attention back to the box. Surprised that he does want to see what you create even as it spills bitterly through him. Reminding him that he’d wanted to be an artist once before the harsh reality of living on the streets of Kaon had crushed those idealistic dreams. Part of him wanting to linger, to do more than watch you create, wanting to add his own touches to a piece. Instead, he walks away to leave you to your excitement.

• Sitting crosslegged, bent over a canvas, you dip your finger in a puddle of paint and use it to mix colors. There wasn’t a mixing palette so you’d stripped into a pair of shorts to use your thigh and you’re shivering as you paint with a finger like a kid because there were no brushes either. But you don’t mind as you use a pinky to feather on highlights. The desk around you littered with quick charcoal sketches, working in almost a feverish state like you need to get it all out. Get it down. So focused you don’t even notice you’re not alone until the shadow falls across you. “Sunny is going to lose it,” Sideswipe groans and you startle, looking up. And he’s laughing at you, making you realize you’ve got paint all over your hands, your thighs, probably on your face. And charcoal smudges everywhere there’s not paint. Just don’t make a mess. Oops.

• Flicking his servos at you to shoo you toward your tiny curtained off wash rack area, he studies what you’ve done. Sees himself and Sunny from different angles. Alone, together. Arguing and relaxed. He hadn’t realized you’d been watching them both so closely. Or that Sunny would have cared enough to give you art supplies just because you’d said you were an artist and they might make you happy. Neither one of them able to say the things they want to say out loud, it’s always been that way. Awkward silences and false starts. Maybe you’re the same way, unable to say what you need to. But studying the art of him and Sunny leaves him oddly warm inside, because it’s your own way of telling them that you like them, like being here despite the unfairness of having no choice at all.

Previous

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[pixelprofligate]

I've been having fun messing around with ye olde Pokemon TCG GBA style

These are not actually ascribing to the limits of the GBA games, just the color palette size. Yahoo.

[endlessdreamworld]

aventurine if his darling attempts to murder him/tells him to die?

Trigger Warnings: Body horror, blood, suicide, character death

"Did you miss me~? I'm sure you're excited to finally g-" You silence that smooth, cheerful greeting of his by wrapping both of your hands around his throat. This is the only way out, properly out. Once upon a time, the sound of his voice would have made your heart melt -- the warmth spilling out until you felt fuzzy all over.

But those days were long gone.

It's been quite a while since the situation has devolved into this nightmare. Everything fell apart after your ex reached out to you for help, and you didn't have the heart to turn him away. Aventurine grew paranoid, scared, and increasingly agitated. This turned into you biting back at him due to this erratic behavior. You couldn't help it, he was putting you into a perpetual state of fight or flight, and that's no way to live.

There were countless opportunities to work things out, but you dug your heels in. You were considering finally ending things for good, because you became part of the problem. You were getting just as bad as he was, and it scared you. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him, but now it's all you could do. You never really decided how you were going to proceed.

It was quite unfortunate that you never had the opportunity to sort out your feelings. The prick must have slipped something into your drink, because the last memory you had before you woke up in that white padded room was the wonderful date the two of you were on. It was one that made you feel that your relationship was worth saving. It was proof that you still had something beautiful and special.

It surprised you that he threw in the towel before you did, especially given how tenacious he was. Whenever you'd lose hope, he'd be the one to rise to the occasion. Where did that man go? You wished he was here.

It felt like you were there for a lifetime. By the time the door opened, you were far more relieved by the blinding bright color palette of his unmistakably ostentatious sense of style than you had ever been in your entire life.

You naively believed this was just one final road bump before things could get back on track. And for a bit, that's how it seemed, life went on as normal.

Then it happened again, and you were put in that room for longer. You weren't allowed to leave the home you made together after that even when you were allowed outside of the white void. Every interaction now carried the promise that you could be imprisoned in that hell of endless light at any moment. A part of you was afraid that he'd never open the door again one day, that he planned on keeping you there until you died. That's how you found yourself with your hands around his throat in the first place.

If you wanted freedom, to go back to life you once had outside, then you'd need to get there on a road built off of the bones of your fallen jailer. Were you to fail though? Well death would truly be better than this.

You've heard how bad solitary confinement can mess with someone's mind, but you didn't truly understand how utterly destructive it could be until you started feeling maggots crawling underneath your finger nails, tickling your soft flesh with their nonexistent writhing bodies. It was the first of many, many hallucinations. Maybe death would be better than the tainted freedom you'd be able to grasp. Maybe it was already too late.

But all thoughts of maybe were drowned out by the scratchy gasps of the person you once wanted to share your life with. You had what felt like an eternity to hash out the tactics that would give you the highest likelihood of success. Honestly, choking someone to death is a horribly difficult way of going about this. Maybe you should adjust tactics and go for his eyes -- those bright, beautiful eyes of his.

When you locked gazes, all you could see is anguish and defeat reflected in what he refers to as one of the many gifts from the God of his people. How dare he empathize with you? He's the reason any of this is happening. You could have talked it out -- it never had to come to this, and --

You grit your teeth and squeeze harder, too overcome by anger to mindfully scratch out those eyes of his. Why isn't he fighting back? How dare he how dare he how dare he --

It starts raining in the hallway. You always hated how hot and sticky summer rain was, especially when it rains inside.

Ah, those are just your tears. Why are they red again? His neck feels sticky and his commodity code is smudging. You wish he'd stop crying.

You were a tempest, and it felt like you were being ripped in half down the middle. Your ribs burned and pulsed against your sternum while your heart felt like it was being tied up and squeezed. Your body started to feel like it was closing in on itself.

Your vision starts to fade from... exhaustion? No, this felt more permanent. The pain in your chest was so unbearable you couldn't speak. You were dying.

Is this a gift from his God too? Is this that protection that he'd mention, that you've seen before? You've never doubted it of course, since you've seen him defy impossible odds first hand on more than a dozen occasions. He's the reason you believed in miracles in the first place.

You slowly grew limp, and as your consciousness faded, you could still hear him breathing. You could feel Aventurine shiver, and slowly embrace you. It feels good. You were always afraid of dying alone, but it seems like you had nothing to worry about, just like he said.

But what about him? Is he going to move on? Is this another tragedy his lucky divine protection spared him from? ...Does he want to go with you? If he finally wanted to end it all, would the gun misfire? Would the rope break? The thought of such a horrible fate made you pull closer with the very last ounce of your strength. In your final moments, you wished it ended differently.

Maybe in another life, you both could have been happy. In this one, you knew in your failing heart that you would have been happy together if you both played your cards differently.

And with the way he's squeezing you back, you know he felt the same way too.

[wave2tyun]

strawberry kisses | ☆

pairing: beomgyu x reader

genre: fluff

summary: when you accepted your boyfriend's sweet request to do his makeup, you weren't expecting the fiery turn that your little makeup session was going to take

warnings: none<3

word count: 875

a/n: reposting with much love for my dear 🐾 anon!!😼💞💞 to this day i still don't know what possessed me when i wrote this fic tbh ASBHJDBSJ my turn to experience this when.......?<//3

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

“ah-“ “-it’s so cold” beomgyu exclaimed, slightly moving away from you.

“stay still-“ you grabbed his face again, dabbing the concealer you had just put on his face with a sponge.

beomgyu had been all over you that night, begging you to recreate the makeup look you had on your last date with him. but he was just so cute doing it, there was no way you could ever refuse him. so now- here you were, beomgyu sitting down on the edge of your bed with you on a chair, leaning over to do the base of his makeup. your hands were shaking a bit, even though you weren’t gonna leave the house again after this was done. it was just beomgyu who got to see the result. perhaps that was actually the root of your worries, you were nervous whether beomgyu would like your work or not.

“my neck hurts” beomgyu complained again. you let out a laugh as you got up, wanting to get your eyeshadow palette from the nightstand.

beomgyu’s arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, bringing you down with him on the bed. “w-what was that for?” you asked, flustered by his actions.

“i think i like this position better- my neck feels more relaxed this way.” he replied with a shrug.

beomgyu’s hands rested on your waist as you straddled his hips and continued continued your work. sometimes his fingeres travelled down to your thighs, tracing patterns on the velvety material of your pants. you grabbed his face again. every single one of your touches had his body melting underneath you, he was so infatuated with you, simply letting you do whatever you needed without questioning anything. he was content watching you do your thing, enjoying how all of your attention was on him and him only.

“your eyelashes are so pretty” you whispered, putting on a light coat of mascara on him. your cold fingers touched his skin, soothing down the burning sensation that bloomed in his cheeks from such simple words. your hand slid down to take hold of his chin and lift it up “pout your lips for me gyu”

“do i get a kiss if i do that?” beomgyu asked you cutely, voice laced with honey.

you playfully tilted your head to the side “maybe” you teased.

beomgyu closed his eyes, pouting his lips exaggeratedly. the feeling of the lipstick touching him instead of your own lips made him open them again. beomgyu huffed; he looked at the floor, sulking, instead of looking at you. you held back the urge to laugh and carried on with the final step, blending the crimson color with the pad of your fingers, feeling his plush lips against your skin. you could notice the way his face lit up, eyes glistening with mischief from the idea that just crossed his mind. one way or another, he was going to receive the kiss that he wanted from you “you know what this lipstick would look good on?”

“hm?” you lifted your eyebrows, waiting for beomgyu’s response.

“you” he answered, giving you a quick peck, chuckling at your surprised face.

you glanced at his lips, smudged lipstick on his face inviting you to mess it up even more. you leaned down, moving away the bangs covering his face to return the favor.

the continuous tentative pecks slowly raised in intensity, and with each kiss you would linger against his lips more, blood rushing through your veins. beomgyu took hold of you, rolling you on the bed so that you could be the one underneath him. he held your wrists above your head with one hand, his other one playing with some strands of your hair as he left kisses all over your cheeks, red marks from the lipstick blossoming along, as a clear sign of his adoration towards you. beomgyu’s heart fluttered at the sight, he took the lipstick tube and placed it in your hand, silently asking for more. he pouted his lips once again, and this time, you couldn’t resist him. your lips captured his in a shy, chaste kiss before fulfilling his request. the corners of his lips turned up and he gazed directly into your eyes as you colored his lips again. then, his head dived down, painting your neck with the same crimson marks that adored your cheeks. he nipped and gently bit at your skin, his tongue swiftly gliding over those same spots, letting out a sigh as he let himself become more and more absorbed by you, the worry of keeping his makeup intact long forgotten. he covered you with his love, slightly pulling the collar of your shirt down to cover the area right underneath your collarbone with more kisses. as much as beomgyu relished telling you that he loved you, he was much fonder of showing his endearment towards you through actions. he loved seeing how you couldn’t control the blush rushing into your cheeks as he kissed you, how you held on tighter to the sleeves of his sweatshirt as he travelled down your body, soft gasps escaping past your lips whenever his kisses turned slow and sensuous.

his face came back up, rosy lips curving into a smirk as he looked at you again “what a beautiful sight”

[ohgodthevoices]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Save point °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

time skip kenma x f!reader

word count : 2922

Premise : You’re a concept artist who recently moved to Tokyo after a personal tragedy left you questioning your purpose. You take a low-key job at a new gaming studio, where you meet Kenma Kozume, the quiet yet sharp CEO. Initially, you clash—Kenma is reserved and brutally honest, while you’re more expressive but guarded. However, as you work together on a passion project, the walls you’ve both built around yourselves begin to crumble.

note : this fanfic will be on my ao3 >here< it might be more organized and easier to keep up with it but i will still upload the chapters here <3

chapter 1/ chapter 2

Chapter one

The Tokyo skyline stretched endlessly outside the glass windows of the modest office. The sound of computers and the faint clicking of keyboards filled the space, a rhythm you’d grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. But today, there was an edge in the air—a tension you couldn’t ignore.

You adjusted your headphones, trying to drown out the growing sense of unease. You began to notice every little noise, the elevator opening and closing , the cars beeping outside, the messed up tie of the man walking past you, the ice melting in your cup of coffee.

“You’ll be collaborating directly with Kozume-san on the upcoming project. Effective immediately.”

Your stomach churned. You’d only been here a month, barely long enough to learn everyone’s names, let alone work with the CEO himself. You had joined this company partly because of its reputation for having a younger, laid-back workforce. It was refreshing to work somewhere that didn’t require stiff suits or stifling formalities. Here, you could stroll into the office in sweats, hair undone and no one would bat an eye. It wasnt simple allowed, it was the norm.

You worked in the artistic department, where your job was to bring life to the game’s visuals—character designs, environments, and UI elements. Your desk was a cluttered haven of sketches, color palettes, and concept art pinned to the walls.

It was the kind of work you’d dreamed about during late nights in art school, but the reality was far more demanding than you’d anticipated.

Deadlines were tight, revisions were endless, and creativity didn’t always come on command. Some days, the ideas flowed effortlessly, your tablet pen gliding across the screen as you brought fantastical worlds to life. Other days, you’d stare at a blank canvas, frustration bubbling as you struggled to meet expectations.

Your first impression of Kenma Kozume came in passing, and even then, he was hard to miss.

The first time you saw him, he was slouched at a desk in the far corner of the office, hoodie pulled over his head, fingers flying across his laptop keyboard. He didn’t look up once, even as people moved around him, his focus unshakable.

The second time, you caught a glimpse of him in the break room. He stood by the coffee machine, staring blankly at the counter as it filled his mug. There was something oddly unapproachable about him, even in such a mundane moment. He had an air of detachment, like the world around him barely registered unless it directly affected him.

You’d never spoken to him, but you’d already decided he wasn’t the type to make small talk or exchange pleasantries. Still, there was something magnetic about him, something that made you wonder what went on behind those sharp, tired eyes.

You had learned that prior to you , Kenma was never really in the office , he was still a streamer more than a CEO , after all this game developement project is only possible thanks to his succesful gaming career. However recently , once he saw how sucessful his idea got , he was now more present in the office and hired more people , you included.

“Hey, Y/N!”

A bright, cheerful voice cut through your spiraling thoughts. You looked up to see Kaori, her vibrant pink hair catching the fluorescent light as she leaned against your desk. Her wide grin and colorful appearance were like a splash of sunshine in the otherwise neutral-toned office.

“Hey,” she said, tilting her head. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You blinked, the metaphor hitting a little too close to home. “That’s… not far off,” you admitted, gesturing to your screen. “I have to work with Kozume-san. On his project.”

Kaori let out a low whistle, plopping into the chair beside you. “Oof, that’s a big one. But hey, you’re amazing at what you do. You’ll be fine.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “What if I mess up? He’s… him. He’s probably going to hate everything I do.” you bury you hand into the palm of you hands

“What if—”

“Nope.” Kaori held up a hand, cutting you off. “No ‘what ifs.’ You’re going to go in there, show him what you’ve got, and if he doesn’t like it, that’s his problem. Not yours.”

You couldn’t help but crack a small smile at her unwavering energy. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is easy,” she said with a wink. “Just think of him as a moody NPC. He might be hard to impress, but you’ve got the skills to win him over.

That made you laugh, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit. “Thanks, Kaori. I needed that.”

“Anytime,” she said, standing up and flipping her hair dramatically over her shoulder. “Now, go slay that boss battle. You’re the main character, after all.”

As she walked back to her desk, her bright presence lingering in the air, you took a deep breath. Maybe Kaori was right. You could do this. You just had to believe it yourself.

You checked your schedule, hoping—praying—that there had been some kind of mistake. But there it was, glaring at you in bold letters:

Meeting with Kozume-san | 2:00 PM | Conference Room 3

Your stomach sank. It wasn’t just a casual check-in; you were expected to present your ideas.

You glanced at your tablet, where the rough sketches and concept notes for the project stared back at you. The game was a platformer with a futuristic theme, but Kenma had insisted on “keeping it simple.” That vague direction had left you stuck between creating something bold and eye-catching or playing it safe with minimalist designs.

The game you were working on was set in a post-apocalyptic cyberpunk world, a crumbling cityscape where neon lights flickered through the smog and towering skyscrapers were half-collapsed, their skeletal remains a testament to a world long past its prime. The streets were flooded with a mix of broken technology and rusted machinery, the last remnants of a once-thriving society. With game mecanics similar to The Last Of Us , the players would collects ressources and try to survive in groups.

Your characters were survivors—scrappy, resourceful, and filled with the grit needed to navigate this decaying world. You’d designed them to be mismatched, each with their own story written into their attire, their scars, their expressions. The environments were dark, gritty, and filled with the hum of malfunctioning tech, but you’d infused them with moments of color—neon signs, glowing graffiti, the occasional flicker of hope in the bleakness.

But now, staring at your designs, the doubt began to creep in. Was it too much? Kenma was known for his minimalist approach, and here you were, drowning in the chaos of color and detail. Would he see your vision as too loud, too cluttered for the world he had in mind?

The clock was ticking. You had less than a couple hours before the meeting.

You were so absorbed in tweaking the final details of your designs that you didn’t notice Kaori approaching your desk. Without a word, she set a takeout bag down in front of you with a soft thud, the scent of warm food wafting through the air. A thumbs-up and a smirk was the only indication she’d left before she walked away,

With a quiet exhale and a smile, you grabbed the food, letting yourself step away from the screen. For a few minutes, you allowed yourself to just eat, to breathe, to let the chaos of your thoughts settle.

————————————————————————

You stood in front of the conference room door, your heart pounding in your chest. The cold metal of the doorknob felt like a weight in your hand

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, but your hands were shaking. The designs you’d worked so hard on, the ones that felt like your heart and soul poured onto the screen, suddenly felt like they weren’t enough. What if Kenma didn’t get it? What if he didn’t like it?

You glanced down at your phone, checking the time. Five minutes. Just five minutes until you have to go in.

You reached for the doorknob, your fingers trembling slightly, but before you could turn it, the door suddenly swung open, and you stumbled back in surprise.

Kenma Kozume stood there, but he wasn’t alone. A sleek, black cat perched casually on his shoulder, its golden eyes eerily similar to his own.

His light blonde hair, slightly messy and falling over his forehead, gave him a perpetually disheveled look. He didn’t seem to care much about appearances, as his hoodie—gray and a bit oversized—hung loosely on his frame, paired with comfortable, worn-in jeans.

The cat let out a soft meow, and Kenma, unfazed, gave it a quick scratch under the chin before glancing at you. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was a faint flicker of curiosity in his gaze.

“You’re early,” he said simply, stepping aside to let you in.

Your eyes darted between him and the cat, trying to process what you were seeing.

Waaa the cat looks exactly like him!

You hadn’t pegged him as the type to bring a pet—let alone one so comfortably perched on his shoulder—to a meeting.

As you hesitated, the cat jumped down gracefully, landing on the conference table with a soft thud. It padded across the surface, tail flicking, before curling up near the laptop that was clearly set up for the presentation.

Kenma sat down without a word, as if this was all completely normal, and started typing on his laptop.

“You can start whenever,” he said, not looking up

Snapping out of your daze, you stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind you. The cat’s gaze followed you as you moved toward the table, its tail swishing lazily.

Your tablet felt heavier in your hands as you set it down, your designs still vivid on the screen. You glanced at Kenma, but his focus remained fixed on his laptop.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint clicking of keys. You cleared your throat softly, hoping to signal that you were ready to start, but the sound barely registered.

Instead, it was the cat that took action. It stood, padded over to your tablet, and plopped down directly on top of it, effectively blocking your work from view.

Your eyes widened, and you froze, unsure of what to do. “Um…”

Kenma finally looked up, his gaze shifting between you and the cat. For a moment, you thought you saw the faintest hint of amusement in his expression.

“Pudding,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. The cat flicked its tail but didn’t move.

“Pudding?” you replied before you could stop yourself.

Kenma leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “That’s her name. She likes warm surfaces. Just move her.”

You hesitated, not wanting to offend the feline—or its owner. Tentatively, you reached out, sliding your hands under the cat’s small frame. Pudding meowed in protest but allowed herself to be relocated to the edge of the table.

As soon as your tablet was clear, you turned it on and opened your designs. The glowing images of the post-apocalyptic cyberpunk world filled the screen, casting faint neon reflections onto the polished table.

Kenma leaned forward slightly, his attention finally shifting to your work. His golden eyes narrowed as he studied the sketches, the lines of his face giving nothing away.

Your heart raced as the silence stretched on, every second feeling like an eternity. You wanted to explain, to justify your choices, but the words caught in your throat.

Finally, Kenma spoke, his voice quiet but deliberate. “Why did you choose this color palette?”

The question was simple, but it carried weight. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

“I wanted to balance the desolation of the setting with moments of vibrancy,” you said, your voice steadier than you expected. “The neon lights and glowing elements are meant to represent remnants of the old world—hope, even in destruction.”

Kenma didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flicking between the tablet and you. Then, without a word, he reached out and swiped to the next image.

The room fell silent again, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle as Pudding shifted on the table.

You watched as Kenma swiped through your designs, his expression neutral. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, before you began to explain your characters.

“These characters are survivors,” you said, gesturing to the designs on the tablet. “Each one has their own backstory, their own way of navigating this broken world. I wanted them to stand out in contrast to the bleak environment—each piece of their clothing, their scars, their accessories, all tell a story of where they’ve been and what they’ve had to survive.”

Kenma’s eyes flicked over the characters, his gaze flickering between the vibrant details of their outfits and the muted tones of the world around them. He didn’t seem to react at first, but then he spoke, his voice calm and direct.

“They’re too flashy for side characters,” he said, his tone flat but cutting. “If they’re meant to be secondary, the design needs to be more subtle. The world you’ve created is chaotic, but the characters should blend into it, not dominate it.”

You felt a sharp pang in your chest at his words. You had poured so much into these characters, wanting them to feel real, to feel alive in a world that had been stripped of so much.

“You’ve got a strong concept,” he said, his tone softer now. “Just need to refine the details.”

You nodded, trying to absorb his feedback. It wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but it was something you could work with.

The room felt quieter now, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. You couldn’t help but feel the weight of his criticism, but you also knew that this was the process.

You had to adapt.

Taking a deep breath, you swiped to the next character design, one of the more subdued ones. “I understand what you mean,” you said, your voice more composed now. “Maybe I went a little overboard. But these characters, they’ve lived through so much. I wanted them to feel like they’ve earned their place in this world.”

Kenma didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reached forward, swiping through the designs once more, his eyes scanning them critically. Pudding, who had been lounging on the table, lazily swatted at the edge of the tablet, causing the screen to flicker slightly.

Kenma glanced at the cat, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “Pudding,” he muttered, gently pushing her paw away from the screen. Then, with a sigh, he turned back to you.

“You’re not wrong,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. “The characters do need to feel like they’ve earned their place. But if they’re secondary, they shouldn’t demand attention. The focus needs to be on the world. The players need to feel like they’re in the world, not just looking at it.”

You nodded slowly, taking in his words. The idea was starting to click, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept.

“I’ll adjust the designs,” you said, determination creeping back into your voice. “I’ll make them blend into the world more, but still keep their individuality. They need to feel like they belong, but also like they’ve got something to prove.”

Kenma nodded, his eyes flicking to the screen one last time before he stood up. “Good. That’s what I want to see. Take your time with it. The meeting’s over for now.”

your mind already racing with ideas for revisions. As you gathered your things, Pudding meowed again, hopping onto your lap before you could get up.

You blinked, surprised, but couldn’t help but chuckle.

Kenma gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod. “She likes you.”

You smiled faintly, the tension in your chest easing slightly. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as you’d thought. You still had a lot of work to do, but now you had a clearer direction.

As you walked out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. You had the feedback you needed. Now it was up to you to turn it into something even better.

You stepped out of the conference room, still processing Kenma’s feedback. The weight of the revisions hung over you, but you were determined to prove him wrong, to make the changes and show him you could do it.

As you made your way down the hallway, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, it was an email from Kenma.

You paused, fingers hovering over the screen. Why would he email me?

You opened the message, your eyes scanning the short, direct note:

I want to see the updated designs by tomorrow. Come to my office at 5 PM.

Your heart skipped a beat.

His office? Tomorrow ? you didnt have much time…

Before you could process it, someone called your name from behind. You turned, only to find Kenma standing at the end of the hallway, his expression unreadable.

He was looking directly at you, his eyes piercing through the distance.

“Don’t be late,” he said, his voice low, and then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

You stood frozen, the weight of the email and his words sinking in. What was this really about?

[alex-thegiraffeboyy]

✮⋆˙A place we could call home

Summary: Little stories of you and Vi moving in together and enjoying this new life.

Modern Au! Professional boxer and trainer boxer gf ! Vi x reader

Wlw Mens DNI

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: Nothing, much love, a bit suggestives but nothing serious. Reader (And Vi--) have a cat named Titi.

Titi's Backpack

Color's that Vi and reader choses

🏡Vi and you have been dating for about two years when you decide to move in together. Your apartment leases are about to expire anyway, and after the first year Vi was spending more time in your apartment than hers, so....

Yes, they decide to move in together.

It takes them a while to find a place that suits their needs (physical and financial), but they finally find a place they both agree on.

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

The day after you and Vi sign the lease for the apartment, you both take two days to clean and paint the space.

The first day you sweep and mop the rooms. You bring a speaker and Vi plays a playlist from her phone with songs you both like, making the apartment come alive with the two of you singing (more you, tbh) and acting out the songs. Laughter and melodies fill the space, you both feel happiness coursing through every inch of your bodies, and Vi can't help but stop every now and then to watch you dance and sing while you clean up.

This is something she has wanted for a long time, a place you both can share, where you both feel comfortable and don't have to worry about things like her roomie, your homophobic neighbors, or how little space there was in your apartment. A space where you can be yourselves, where you can love each other in your own way. A place where you can make it your safe place.

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

🏡The day you and Vi go out to buy some paints to paint the walls you're not sure what color you want, but you both know that an all-white house is not your thing. You spend a few hours going through the colors and thinking about how they would look on the walls of the apartment. They finally decide on a bucket of warm orange and a bucket of light blue. But while they both wait for their colors to finish mixing, Vi looks at all the items the store sells, picking out some rollers and a couple of brushes that will come in handy later while you look at the cardboard with the color palettes of the paints. But there's one color in the blue section that catches your eye. A color you'd recognize anywhere.

"Hey Vi."

"Yes, babe?"

"Did you know your eyes color is the name of your sister?"

"Huh?"

You locate the color on the blue shelf and pick up one of the swatches before moving forward to your girlfriend and placing the cardboard next to one of her eyes. You smile with satisfaction as you see that you did, in fact, get the color right.

"What do you mean?" Vi's face is a grimace of confusion with an amused smile, she's feeling quite out of place at the moment, but she doesn't stop you, but rather waits for you to finish whatever it is you're doing with her and the piece of cardboard in your hand.

"That's right, honey" you reply with a fond chuckle, pulling the swatch away from her face and extending it towards her for her to take it "You have Powder blue eyes".

And she is very tempted to take a picture of it and send it to Jinx, but she knows she would become unbearable with that information, so she just keeps the sample in her cell phone case and tells herself that she will think about the pros and cons of sending it (in the end she will do it because she is too excited and she loves her little sister too much not).

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

🏡 The day they both decide to paint the apartment everything is a mess. There are newspapers strewn all over the apartment (courtesy of Vander and Silco, who had years of newspapers stored in their garage at home) full of stains and paint splatters. And making an even bigger mess are the two of you running around the apartment like little kids.

It all started as a joke. You were both painting the walls when suddenly you had an idea. Vi had her back to you so it was perfect. You filled your left hand with paint and slowly approached her, hugging her with your right arm, resting your chin on her shoulder. And despite your intentions you can't help but enjoy this contact with her, you can feel Vi startle at the sudden contact, which makes you let out a giggle, nuzzling her neck with your own face.

"Everything okay?" you can hear her smile in her voice, her cheek resting against your head as you both sway from one foot to the other.

"Mmhm, just happy" and you can only sigh quietly because it's true, doing all these things with her fills you with overwhelming warmth and happiness, so much so that you almost forget the real motive you were there for "Besides, I like seeing you like this."

"Yeah ?"

"Mmhm..." And God knows it's true. Seeing Violet painting walls in a tank top and shorts, exposing her toned arms and thighs makes your mouth water. The way her tattoos show on her muscles with every move. The way you can see chunks of her lower back every time she raises her arms and the tank top rises.... Either way- - - - - "But you know how you'd look better?"

Violet just makes a questioning hum at your question, turning her head with a smirk, taking a second to look at your lips before turning back to your eyes, and she can watch in slow motion as your expression turns into a macabre smile before your left hand enters her field of vision, too late for her to react, paint smeared haphazardly across her cheeks and the tip of her nose. And for a second she can't react, until she feels you walk away and hears your thunderous laughter echoing in the empty apartment.

"I'm sorry-" you manage to say between guffaws and ragged breaths, holding your stomach tightly "I couldn't help it, I'm-" but she don't let you time to finish.

Because Vi smeared some of your face with paint too.

"You're gonna pay for that, princess."

And that's how they both ended up running around the apartment, trying to smear paint on each other and running away to get free, the walls forgotten. Only to end up both on the floor laughing, cheeks strained and stomachs aching, sharing sweet paint-flavored kisses while whispering teases and sweet nothings to each other.

At some point in this cute intimacy, when the paint on your hands is dry, you pick up your phone and take several pictures of you both cuddling on the floor. They're hair is a messy, paint-streaked mess. They're clothes are wrinkled and at this point, they're more paint than fabric (luckily they wore clothes that knew they're wouldn't mind getting stained), and, evidently, you're both going to need a good shower after this.

And even though the apartment is only half-painted that day, you don't mind going an extra day to finish the job. You couldn't have done it any other way.

Needless to say, one of the photos is now your wallpaper.

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

🏡The day before the move is a disaster.

You and Vi hardly see each other after painting the apartment, both very busy trying to get everything in order for the move. You throw things away, others put them in boxes and bags, clean, rearrange, etc. From time to time they send each other pictures showing their progress, others are just selfies to motivate the other, always leaving cute messages or motivational words under the picture.

Violet <3

"I miss you, baby :("

"Me too :("

"But tomorrow we're moving

in together!!! 🥳"

"💕"

So that night they each sleep in their own apartment for the last time. The move will come early, so you need to be there to greet them and expedite things.

It feels weird not having Violet there, you're so used to them spending the day together that the silence in the apartment is almost overwhelming. So you try to leave some music or video playing in the background.

When it's already dark and you've finished packing and leaving all your stuff in the living room (except for a couple of things you'll put in a small backpack tomorrow) you take a bath and lie down on your bed to check your phone notifications. It doesn't take long for your cat to follow you and lie down next to you.

Most of the messages are from your family and friends asking how the move was going and how you were feeling (although there are also several videos and shitpost's that Powder has been sending you -and you take the time to answer one by one-). It takes you a while to answer them all, but it makes you happy to be able to chat with them for a while.

Your body feels tired and ready to rest after a long day of getting everything ready for the big move, yet part of you is so excited and restless that you feel unable to rest. So you watch tiktoks for a while and exchange videos with Powder and some other friends. Or at least until the messages from your girlfriend start coming in.

Violet <3

"Baaaaaaabeeee"

"Babe :("

"miss you"

"miss you sooooooooo much 😿"

"Come back Violet, the kid

miss you :(( (and so do I)"

"It feels weird not having you here"

"I knooow"

"Btw, I miss Titi too :(("

"Are you done packing your things?"

"Yup. Ready for tomorrow ^^"

"How about you, baby?"

Vi's text reply never comes, instead, you get a video call from your girlfriend. You arrange your phone so she can see you. You're lying on your side, your right cheek resting on the pillow while your cat is curled up next to your ribs. Once you answer, a soft smile creeps across your lips instinctively, you feel yourself relax at the sight of your girlfriend, also lying on her side with a soft, sleepy look on her face. She too is smiling at you and her eyes seem to light up a little as she sees you through her screen. "Hey Sun" her voice is just a sleepy murmur laden with affection, you see her stretch a little, and you realize that she is, in fact, not wearing anything on her torso. You let out a soft chuckle as your cat follows in her footsteps, stretching before lifting her little head towards your girlfriend's voice. You find the comparison quite amusing.

"Hey sweetheart. How you feeling?" you whisper in a soft voice, and you don't realize all the affection and love that seeps through your gaze, but Violet does, which makes her feel a warmth in her chest. It makes her feel loved. Meanwhile you watch her yawn before settling back on her bed, her eyes more clouded than before, the tiredness affecting her a little more and more.

"Tired" her raspy, slightly gravelly voice sounds over the speaker of your phone. You're about to say something else to her when your cat gets up and lets out a small meow, approaching your phone screen as she recognizes your girlfriend's voice. You giggle at the sight of your cat sniffing your phone, you hear Vi laugh, and even though you can't see her you know she has an even bigger smile than she had before "Hi Titii. Hi baby" you hear her speak to your pet in the cutest, gooey voice she has reserved just for her.

Your cat meows a couple of times as she purrs loudly, rubbing her furry little face on your phone screen "Looks like I'm not the only one who misses you" your voice amused as you watch the interaction of the two of you over the phone. You hear her laughter through the speakers, which only causes your smile to get a little bigger. You rearrange yourself on the bed to move the phone away from your cat's face so the camera can focus on the two of you "We miss you so much, Vi. We both wish you were here."

Vi lets out a long frustrated moan. You watch her roll onto her side, burying her face in the pillow and can't help but let out a giggle at the sight. "You enjoy watching me suffer?" she murmurs, her voice coming out opaque from the pillow pressed against her face.

"Me? Honey, neveeeer. What gave you that impression on me?" you reply with an affectionate mockery. You watch her shoulders shake, and very quietly hear her giggle.

"Fuck" she mutters before lifting her head, resting her chin on the pillow. A soft expression greets you from the other side of the screen. Caring smile and affectionate eyes, you soon find yourself mimicking her expression "I really wish I could be with you now" a hint of frustration and melancholy seeps into her soft expression.

How you wish you could hold her right now and shower her with kisses, caresses and cuddles "I know" your own expression turns somewhat sad, your smile is a small grimace, and you know that if she were with you right now you would probably be playing with her hair, gently brushing it away from her face, combing it with gentle caresses "Just a couple more hours, love. A couple more hours and we'll be together in our apartment."

Our apartment.

It's strange to say, but not in a bad way. They're both excited about it. A place they're both going to make their home.

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

Needless to say, you slept very little that night. After finishing the call with Vi the excitement ran through your entire body, the night seemed torturously long.

So the next morning, when your alarm went off, it was easier to wake up. At first you didn't want to get up, staying in your bed for a while longer and cuddling Titi (who spent the night with you, helping you fill in a little of your girlfriend's absence) while she just stretched out, snuggling against your stomach and purring loudly. But just the thought of what today had in store for you made the smile on your face grow bigger with excitement. So you sat up carefully and picked up your phone to text Violet.

Sunshine❤️

"Moorning love❤️"

"Excited for the day?"

" 'Cause I am <3"

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

🏡The move was pretty quick. You weren't taking a lot of stuff with you, just some furniture and boxes with items that would be hard to carry on public transportation.

Once you make sure everything is in the truck you send a message to Vi, who is already in the new apartment with her stuff (She is carrying quite a bit less stuff than you since she was sharing an apartment with someone else), letting her know that your stuff is already on its way and that you and Titi will take a while longer to arrive because you still have to wait for the owner of your now ex-apartment to give it to her along with the keys.

You turn off your phone after you see the message is delivered, you take a moment to look around your (former) empty apartment. It feels strange, reminding you of when you first arrived a few years ago. You feel nostalgic about leaving the place, knowing that this is where many of your most important moments happened here (many of them having to do with Vi), yet you leave here calmly, knowing that this is the beginning of a new facet of your relationship.

Violet <3

"Ok honey."

"I'm waiting for you here, my girls <3"

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

🏡Titi was not used to leave the apartment. So you could be sure she wasn't having a good time at the moment.

After delivering everything you took Titi's backpack, hanging it on your chest before taking the bag with your things and walking to the public transport stop. Once there you exchange some messages with Violet, you also send her some pictures of your cat, who seemed very stressed looking at everything from inside the backpack. You had put her in there with her favorite toy and blanket, trying to give her some comfort, which helped her cope a little better with the trip.

Although the drive to the apartment is a bit long, and you have to split your time between talking to Vi to get an update on the situation with the move, seeing the road, and reassuring your pet. But you finally arrive at your stop, and it only takes you a few blocks before you get there.

By the time you get to the new apartment it's half past eleven in the morning, you open the door and walk in, leaving your things by the door before announcing your arrival. Vi doesn't take long to appear, coming towards you at a brisk pace (almost running) with an excited smile on her lips. She makes her way through the pile of stuff in the move and you meet her halfway, hugging her and laughing at the excitement of the moment. You could say you have officially moved in together.

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

🏡Ordering things in your new apartment is another story.

"Babe what do we think?" your girlfriend asks from the small living-dining room of her apartment. You stick your head out through the empty wall space that divides the kitchen from the place where Vi is sitting, who has her hands on her hips and rotates her gaze between looking at the furniture and watching you, waiting for your reaction.

There is a long sofa and another one for a person you brought from your previous apartment, in the middle of it all there is a coffee table that Vi used to have in her room. Titi is sitting next to the couch, across from Vi, watching everything critically the way your girlfriend has arranged the furniture.

"Sure, babe. It looks amazing."

"Yeah?"

"Yu, it looks pretty cool. In fact, I like the way you've arranged all the furniture" which is completely true, in fact, you've just learned that your girlfriend has a very good ability to arrange furniture so that it looks aesthetically pleasing. Behind the sofas is a rectangular table with four chairs, and the TV you've had since before you moved out of your parents' house is in a corner, waiting to be installed on the wall.

Vi nods, more confident at your words as she observes the way she arranged things, her gaze moving from one to one until it stops on your (though she says it's also hers) cat, who is still watching everything critically as she wags her furry tail from side to side.

"Mmm, I don't know. You what do you say, Titi?" her voice turns honeyed and you can't do anything but smile, and she, upon hearing her name, looks at your girlfriend before diverting her attention to her surroundings once more, as if she's really thinking Vi's question over before returning her attention to her, responding with her own meow, raising her little head and blinking slowly at Vi.

"Mmhm, she definitely approves."

"Then that's it" Vi replies with a satisfied smile, bending down to pet the kitten, who promptly begins to purr at her caresses "Titi has given the final verdict."

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

🏡 You and Vi like to bathe together. Before you rarely did, only when it was planned for Vi to spend the night (which rarely happened) or when she had clean clothes that she left in your apartment (though mostly it was after you both have sex). Either way, bathing together is an activity you enjoy from time to time since you moved in. You like to pamper her, and she loves to let you do it.

You like to wash her hair, you like to run your fingers through the pink locks and massage her scalp, feel the short hair on the left side of her head, only to go down to her shoulders and massage her, and of course, Vi will return the favor later.

They usually like to bathe together at night, they like to be able to spend this quiet time together before they cuddle up in bed to go to sleep, feeling relaxed after a really good hot bath.

Sometimes you read for a while after that, something about keeping up your reading habit, you usually tell Vi. And she doesn't mind, sometimes she asks you to read out loud to her, sometimes she just hugs you, resting her face on your hip or collarbone (depending on whether you decide to read sitting or lying down) and will close her eyes and probably fall asleep, or she might get distracted on her cell phone while you finish. But it's when you refuse to sleep, even as your eyes close and your head begins to give way to its own weight, that Vi intervenes.

"Baby, you're falling asleep," she says to you softly, her voice a little hoarse and a chuckle creeps in at the end of the sentence. Her eyes narrow with exhaustion and a loving look. She sits on the bed, hugging you around the waist to pull you closer to her, and as usual, your body molds to hers, leaning against her muscular body, resting your head on her shoulder without taking your eyes off the book (even though your eyes are more closed than open).

"No, you're falling asleep" Your voice is almost unintelligible, sleep taking its toll on you, as if you've had alcohol and are now drunk.

And Vi can't help a giggle at your response "Aaaaww come on" her right hand goes up your side until it reaches your shoulder, caressing the full length of your arm, trying to coddle you to convince you "It can wait until tomorrow, you're falling over."

"I just want to finish this chapter."

And she knows you couldn't give in that easy, it wouldn't be you if you didn't put up some resistance, so she uses the best card she has, the one she knows always works.

"Okay, love. Listen" she pulls your body away from hers, and a whimper automatically leaves your lips, looking at your girlfriend with a little pout at the loss of warmth, but that only causes Vi to laugh softly "How about this? You give me the book and I'll read you what's left of the chapter while you lie in bed with me. Sound good?"

And you're no fool, you know that the moment you accept her proposal your sleep sentence is signed. But you love falling asleep with Vi's voice reading to you in the background. So you let her.

"Fine"

You both lie down and get comfortable. Vi puts her arm under your head and you wrap your arms around her waist, your head resting on her chest as one of your legs intertwines with hers. Vi pulls the sheets up and settles in, taking the book in her right hand "Are you comfortable?" she gets a murmur as affirmation, and she leaves a kiss on the crown of your head before she can turn her attention to the pages of the book "Good. So, where you stay?"

"In these walls..."

Vi repeats the phrase under her breath over and over like a mantra. Her eyes searching for the phrase between paragraphs, stopping when she finally finds it "There you are."

Her soft voice fills the space between you, the yellow light from the nightstand illuminating the room slightly, making you even sleepier.

And there's something about the way Violet reads. She does it so passionately and full of emotion, but without losing the softness of her voice, that it always relaxes you (it's a skill she developed after years of reading stories to Powder). You love listening to her, you could do it for hours and hours and never get tired of it. But now, with tiredness on your shoulders and the voice and warmth of your beloved girlfriend, you just want to sleep cuddled up next to her. So you do.

It isn't long before Vi realizes that you have indeed, as usual, fallen asleep, so she puts the book down on the nightstand and carefully turns off the lamp light so as not to wake you, snuggling back in once she's finished.

"Good night, Sunshine."

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

🏡The mornings between you are usually quite hectic. Usually in the mornings, Vi has boxing training with her team, other times she teaches boxing classes to some people who frequent at gym. And even though your activities are usually at home or later, you get up with her to speed things up.

Vi gets up at 5 a.m. to take a shower, and you follow her a few minutes later. You get up and walk to the kitchen to prepare something for the two of you, while you're at it you'll also make something for Vi to take to the gym. A while later your girlfriend will appear in the kitchen with wet hair and a towel on her shoulders, already wearing her clothes to go workout.

"Morning baby" her arms always find their way to your waist hugging you against her and leaving kisses on your crown and cheek before walking through the kitchen, preparing her bottle with water and other things she usually takes to the gym while she tells you about what her routine will be today.

Once you both finish breakfast Vi runs to brush her teeth and then checks that everything is in her bag and quickly passes by Titi (who is comfortably lying on the couch) to give her a few quick cuddles before saying goodbye to you and leaving the apartment, leaving you alone until the afternoon.

But there are days like today, days when you both coincide on a day off, or your schedules magically manage to stay clear in the mornings, that you both enjoy each other's company. And their hectic, hectic mornings turn into soft, cuddly mornings. Vi would be the first to wake up due to her usual schedule, but would quickly return to rest after a few kisses and cuddles that gradually persuade her to return to sleep in your arms.

The second time you would be the first to wake up. You like to watch her sleep, it's a sight you rarely get to enjoy. You brush some pink locks off her face and chuckle softly at the small trace of drool on her chin as you listen to her low snores. And even when you see her like this, so vulnerable and somehow so messily tender, you wonder what you did to get so lucky. Because, fuck, even then she's so pretty.

And Violet doesn't take her long to wake up.

"Enjoying the view?" her voice is low and husky, still tinged with flecks of sleep and tiredness "A picture would last longer, honey."

And you can't help but laugh, your hands find their way to her freckled cheeks, cupping them "I like seeing you in person better" drawing her to you to give her soft kisses all over her face. And she would be lying if she said she didn't like this domesticity. She likes spending quiet mornings by your side, she likes letting you love her, as much as she likes you letting her love you. So her own hands pull you to her by your waist, keeping you as close as possible. Hugging you and reciprocating your sweet kisses.

And they spend the morning like that, spoiling each other, whispering sweet nothings to each other. Embarrassed giggles, funny laughs and many more fill the space, creating a warm and loving atmosphere. And if they are in the mood, sometimes they even end up making love in the morning.

And at some point in her affectionate morning, Vi manages to convince you to let her make you breakfast. It takes her a while, as you insist on doing it with her, not wanting to part with her.

"You always make breakfast for me. Let me do it for you this time" that and a few when kisses is all she needs to convince you to stay in bed to wait for her to bring breakfast.

And a while later, as you turn on your computer to watch something with your girlfriend while you have breakfast in bed, your cat shows up in your shared room, happy after being fed by Violet, climbing into your bed, rubbing up against you before lying down next to you, keeping you company.

When Vi returns with two plates of food the laughter is instantaneous.

"Hey, that's my spot, furball" and as if the cat could understand her, she doesn't move an inch, just whines quietly, as if trying to make light of Vi's comment, who gives you your plate and leaves hers on the nightstand so she can carry Titi and get her out of the room, knowing that if she doesn't do it later she'll give them trouble while they eat "Sorry, buddy. You have her every day, it's my turn."

And as Vi closes the door to the room and continues talking to your cat (who responds to her with indignant meows) you can't help but think again how lucky you are.

And they're still trying. You are trying to find balance in this new shared life, but you love finding happiness in this domesticity. You love this home you are both creating.

[a-bleak-gallery]

Worked on this some more. Have been messing around with a really blown out limited palette because I'm not good at interesting colors. Fun to use someone else's palette to try things (shamelessly stealing colors from the incredibly talented @requinoesis - still have no idea how they do it).

[crystallizsch]

“Oh? *I* get to be in charge of our lovely Princes? Hehe. I graciously accept the challenge.”

[SR] Yuusha Tala -> GROOOOVY!! Glimmering Soirée (fan event by @starry-night-rose)

Groooovy!!: Hehe. If you want to dance with me, you’re gonna have to keep up with me first.

Set Home: Yeah, yeah… I know I’m just a glorified attendant and I don’t really have any say over the Princes... Look, just let me have this.

Home Idle 1: Helping Deuce act like a Prince has been really hilarious. But credit where credit is due, seeing him try his best is really charming.

Home Idle 2: Wow. Somehow Azul became less insufferable after being trained as a Prince. ….Wait. Nevermind. He’s still the same.

Home Idle 3: Kalim and Hornton seem to be a natural at this. I guess I should have expected that. It’s really nice to see them shine.

Home Idle - Login: Has anyone seen Grim? I swear I saw him lurking around here somewhere…

Home Idle - Groovy: I could go for "Belle of the Ball" if I really wanted to, especially since I'm the one who helped take care of everything after all. But alas, why would you vote for the magicless prefect..? Wait, unless.….

Home Tap 1: Where did I put that ghost camera? I was just holding it just a while ago… Huh? It’s around my neck? Well, that’s embarrassing. Oh stop laughing at me, will ya?

Home Tap 2: The others say I’m like a different person when I go into "manager" mode. …And they say it either like a compliment or an insult so I’m getting mixed messages.

Home Tap 3: Ugh. This cape is cool and all but people keep getting caught by it. So annoying.

Home Tap 4: Would I compete in being the Belle of the Ball if I wasn't taking care of the Princes? Depends. Would you vote for me? ~ ♡ …What do you mean you’ll give me a "pity" vote.

Home Tap 5: No, I’m not staring "longingly" at that band! …But hypothetically, do you think they’d let me play an instrument with them?

Home Tap - Groovy: Oh, wow. Crazy that they totally just left this violin here. Hmmm…..

notes:

i had fun with the voice lines aaah but it might have some changes when i’m done with the groovy (and i’ll properly put her in an actual card template)

also slight lore drop from one of the voice lines: yuusha has experience hosting formal parties pre-twst. basically she just locks in (a bit too heavily) when she has hosting duties.

(some of the voice lines also foreshadow the groovy 👀)

anyways i was just messing around a lot with the outfit design and the colors hgsdfjds

i tried my best making her purple color scheme agree with the limited color palette and i think it worked out??? idk idk--

also the cape was supposed to have patterns similar to the ceremonial robes so as to label her as someone from nrc.

i wanted to include a LOT more ruffles too but i had no patience for lining all of that 🤧

(bonus sketches/concepts below)

at first i based off her suit on hans frozen but then (because of pinterest giving me ideas) i realized i wanted a more fun outfit and so here i am-

(also help me i meant to have the voice lines to be just talking to anyone but it just hit me that it sounds like she’s talking to jamil 💀 girl they just can’t leave me alone they live in my head 24/7 rent-free)