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nerves-nebula · 2 years ago

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what made your first year of college so much worse than the second?

godddd where do i even start. Complaining goes under the cut cuz it’s too damn long.

8 hour studios 3 times a week that start at 8 AM and only break for lunch. one of the professors expected us to stand the entire time we were drawing and only sit when we went on break. plus homework for those studios, because each studio was a different foundational class. and on the days when you dont have those studios you got other foundational classes like art history and literature or something. you've got homework for all of these classes too and tests and everything.

and each studio being a different class is a huge issue and really frustrating as well. the classes are drawing, design and, like, basically a 3D class, right? where you use power tools and carve stuff and all that. But imagine you go to this school for painting or to make clothes, then the three foundational classes might just really bore and frustrate you. because you don't really feel like they're helping you gain any skills in your preferred major.

so you have all these artistic kids who want to do their best, being forced to do things they hate and being told it's to make us "more well rounded." (which dont get me wrong i understand, but that doesnt make it suck any less)

so all the art you make is painful to create, and you don't even like the result. but we knew what we signed up for, and the point is to last past first year so you can get into your major. thats the point for me, at least. so you just get what you can done, but i cant imagine what I would've done if i'd fallen behind even once.

And then my own personal hell- being in a new place and not knowing what to do or who to talk to or how to communicate ! So i was constantly stressed out in like a social way. idk if i vented about this here but i fell over in a fit of anxiety and hyperventilation in class multiple times first year. I straight up fell over at least twice and i had crying fits multiple times (with varying degrees of how quiet I was being, sometimes they don't even notice :D)

I was incredibly emotionally isolated and cried myself to sleep like every night. my only social interactions were at work because I'm very bad at socializing properly and making friends in class, and i was always too tired to go to any events. LUCKY for me I met a really cool friend while doing some student work and it was really nice and chill.

ANYWAY BACK TO THE STRESS. to give an example of the situation: our first homework for drawing class was to make this big ink master copy of a van gogh sketch, and it didn't have to be perfect, or even GOOD tbh, but regardless it took forever. and i spilled my ink on it which nearly led to a breakdown but instead i just laughed cause otherwise I'd go insane. the amount of podcasts and audiobooks i burned through that year just to keep myself sane was mind-numbing. i listened to, no joke, ALL of Well There's Your Problem, and i went back and listened to a lot of them more than once.

i was really lucky though, cause some other students had first projects that were like "bring in 50 drawings by next class" or "make a chair out of only cardboard that you can sit on without it collapsing" or something. and i never had a teacher that bad.

actually, my second semester design professor was really REALLY chill. He let me sleep in class if i finished the work so I spent a few hours in his class just chilling and sleeping fitfully (as in I was so stressed i would gasp and mutter myself awake, which really alarmed my classmates but i never got close enough to them to explain myself soooo they prolly just think something is wrong with me. which it is! oh well)

i can only speak for myself but i was basically working any moment i wasn't sleeping, eating, shitting, or showering. somehow other people made time to befriend each other and hang out and like, go to parties??? i dont know how. Frankly I don't even remember how i did what i did either, specifically I reached out to my college's mental health services and got on some medication for anxiety. I also somehow managed to write an essay for our student published thingy about how I wanted to kms and felt unsupported by mental health professionals lmao.

I have NO IDEA how i did any of that because this year i kept falling asleep for five hours in the middle of the day. my theory is that I got more done because I physically HAD TO STAY AWAKE. I COULD NOT ALLOW MYSELF TO FAIL.

I was so stressed out the first year that I often couldn't sleep without hugging my giant elephant stuffed animal or using it as a comforting weight on top of me. one morning i woke up hyperventilating and went to go cut a huge role of paper at like 6 AM because i was so worried about forgetting to cut the paper before i left before class at 8 AM.

so yeah, my theory is that since second year wasn't that insanely stressful, all those hours i spent eking out any artistic joy possible (making owl house comics, writing that essay, and painting my clothing) just to make sure i didn't kms were replaced instead with me just falling asleep at inopportune times, because I wasn't as scared that I wouldn't have time for my work.

OH MY GOD AND FIRST YEAR I GOT PUT IN TWO CONSECUTIVE GROUP PROJECTS WITH THIS ABSOLUTE MONSTER- but that could be its entire own post. suffice it to say that he had been reported multiple times for various things and one of my classmates recognized who i was talking about just from me vaguely complaining about how much i hated him.

anyway im sure there's even more that i forgot about but to be honest i think i've explained enough.

#nnstuff #ask #art college

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wholelotofweird · 2 years ago

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Okay, gamers, the first quarter of the year is over and I want to share with you the books I've consumed thus far.

I've recently been using StoryGraph and damn, it's really fun if you like data and also logging the stuff you read. Would recommend. I say that, because a number of these books were consumed thanks to one of the challenges they've set for the year, to read a number of books in different categories. Let me say, this is the most diverse spread I've read in YEARS. So. Anyway.

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses, by Kristen O'Neal

I would 100% recommend reading this book, if you are able, in print format instead of audio. There are a number of sections where the main characters are talking over text chat and I'm not sure how well that would translate over audio.

This book had me saying, "They're just like me fr" non ironically multiple times. It's such a lovely look at friendship and building our own communities and struggling with chronic illness. There is at no point any gatekeeping of what a chronic illness should look like or what a person with a chronic illness needs to look like.

The one thing that I didn't love was the fact that a white author picked first person POV of a POC. It isn't the best choice. I feel better about it after looking through O'Neal's website where she has readily admitted that it was a choice she would not make again. I appreciate the thoughtfulness of not making the "monstrous" character a POC.

Overall! I really enjoyed this book. It's a pretty fast read, but it is heartwarming and hopeful and full of genuine joy.

A Magic Steeped In Poison, by Judy I. Lin

This book was SO fun! Magic, romance, court politics, betrayal. What more could you want? Other than the magic system being tea based. That's right babies, TEA BASED! Monch monch monch, what a beautiful system I am in love.

This is another fast read. I've always been a sucker for magical tournaments and historical fantasy. If any of that is your vibe I would absolutely recommend picking this up. I know there is a second book, but I haven't had the opportunity to read that one yet.

Found, by Margaret Peterson Haddox

Now... Like I said... I was picking books for a reading challenge I'm doing. This one was from "read a middle grade book you never read", so I am FULLY aware that I am not the audience for this book.

That being said, oh my god, this was a rough one. I think my biggest gripe is that the cast are all 13-15 year olds but you would never know it. They're out here acting like 20 year olds. Maybe when I was 13 I would have been able to buy it, but at 30-whatever I am not. This is the first of multiple books and I can't say I regret not reading more.

Vincent and Theo: The Van Gogh Brothers, by Deborah Heiligman

So, I'll be honest, the reason I was drawn to this was because I got to see this amazing Van Gogh art instillation last year. Part of that instillation was a display of excerpts of the letters between Vincent and Theo, and let me tell you, that is what made me cry.

This book is certainly nothing ground-breaking. It's a biography of these two men. It tells their stories at the same time, side by side. I also cried reading this.

Am I emotional? Is it because I have younger siblings I'm very close to? Is it because I, too, am mentally ill and an artist?

Who knows, gamers.

Quackery - A Brief History of the Worst Ways to Cure Everything, By Nate Pedersen & Lydia Kang, MD

Again, nothing groundbreaking. This book is a funny and informative look at medical process through history. I'm a sucker for medical history. I did listen to the audiobook for this and I think it really helped the humor shine. If you're also a fan of bizarre medical history (or the podcast Sawbones), this is the book for you.

The Devil in the White City, by Erik Larson

I enjoyed this book! For a person who is bad at remembering names, though, it was difficult to follow at times. There were so many players in the conception and realization of the Chicago World's Fair that I would lose track of just who I was hearing about.

That said, it was a very cool look into the trials and tribulations that went into making the spectacle a reality. This book managed to touch on SO much, not even to it's detriment. Despite getting confused by names the main through-line was easy to follow. I was invested start to finish.

In the Vanishers' Palace, by Aliette de Bodard

Do you like beauty and the beast retellings, but instead the beast is a very cool dragon, and also it's hella gay??? Then do I have the book for you! It does one of my favorite sci-fi things where there is a world, there are facts of that world, but you aren't supposed to learn them. Those aren't what matter, they are simply table setting. It's a beautiful story. I do wish there was a bit more depth into the romance, but that's just me.

Beautiful, atmospheric, and emotional. Lovely book.

A Marvelous Light, by Freya Marske

Damn, the pining in this book??? Truly a wonder.

This book is such a lovely blend of interesting plot, intriguing magic system, and just lovely gay romance. I've been trying to consciously read more queer books this year and so far I am having a wonderful time. I'm going to be 32 this year and for the first time since I was a pre-teen I'm seeing myself really reflected in books. It's such a fuckin' cool experience. I'm an emotionally compromised teenaged girl.

#lycanthropy and other chronic illnesses #a marvelous light #in the vanasher's palace #devil in the white city #quackery #vincent and theo #van gough #a magic steeped in poision #lgbtqia books #queer books #books and reading

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 3 years ago

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Ikevamp Act 2.5

Ghosts of the Past

The past, like a ghost, comes at them in the present silently.

As night falls on the streets of Paris, Theodorus visits the atelier he is familiar with.

There, his brother Vincent is cleaning up his art supplies.

Theo: "Broer, I'm here to pick you up. It's unusual for you to come here."

Vincent: "I thought it would be nice to paint with someone else once in a while."

Saying this, Vincent showed one of the paintings he had done today.

Theo: "It's a nice painting. I can almost hear the painted people talking."

Vincent: "Hehe, thank you. The studio was lively today, so maybe some of the fun got onto my brush."

Vincent: "It kind of reminds me of the old days. Back when I lived in the yellow house in Arles, with Gauguin..."

Theo: ".............."

Vincent: "If we keep chatting, we're going to be late. Let's go home, Theo."

Vincent senses a slight scowl on his brother's face, a change that the others would surely not have noticed, so he breaks off the conversation.

At that moment, he heard the sound of a door opening.

Vincent: "Huh? Did someone forget something?"

Their sky and ocean-colored eyes widened as they looked back at the figure that had entered like the night wind.

Theo: "!!!"

Vincent: "Don't tell me, you're..."

???: "Hahaha, the looks on your faces are priceless. Looks like you guys remember me pretty well."

Theo: "You bastard. So you've been hiding in Paris, Gauguin!"

The man―Gauguin, takes one look at both of them, and a wry smile forms at the corners of his lips.

Gauguin: "Good to see you, Van Gogh brothers. I never thought I'd see the three of us together again like this."

Vincent: "Is that really you? But you still look the same as you did back then…"

Gauguin: "It just means I'm the same as you now, Vincent."

Gauguin: "And my purpose for being here is the same as yours, Theodorus."

Theo: "What do you mean...?"

Silently, Gauguin's smile deepens, and he puts his hand inside his suit.

Then he turned his eagle-like eyes on Vincent and raised a dull, shiny knife.

Gauguin: "A vampire resurrected from the jaws of death―for his revenge!"

With a crazy laugh, Gauguin swings the knife down on the canvas repeatedly.

The blade, filled with hatred, slices through the vivid colors of the painting.

Theo: "Broer's painting! Stop, Gauguin!"

Theodorus grabbed Gauguin to protect his brother's painting, but after some struggle, his body was thrown to the floor with unusual force.

Theo: "Guh...!"

Vincent: "Theo!"

Gauguin: "Ha! Stop it? That's weird. Didn't you always want to do this, Theodorus?"

Theo: "What did you say!?"

Gauguin: "You were so envious of your brother's unique talent that you hated him!"

Gauguin: "You and I are the same, Theodorus!"

Theo: "You're wrong! I'm...I'm..."

Vincent: "Don't listen to him, Theo!"

As if stabbed in the old wounds, Theodorus' expression turned grim. Upon seeing this, Gauguin aims the tip of the knife at him.

Vincent: "Theo!"

Vincent leaps in front of Theo, and red droplets, redder than paint, are splattered on the canvas as Gauguin's knife slashes at Vincent's arm.

Theo: "Broer, your arm!"

Vincent: "It's okay..."

Vincent: "Gauguin...please. Don't hurt my brother anymore."

Vincent: "Did you come back from the dead just to do this?"

Gauguin: "Vincent. You always looked at me with those pure eyes."

Gauguin: "You make me hate the painting I love so much..."

Vincent: "Gauguin?"

Gauguin: "I just loved your paintings..."

Gauguin: "Guhhh! My head! Damn it!"

For a moment, there seemed to be a light in Gauguin's bloodshot eyes.

Vincent: "Wait, Gauguin! Ugh."

Vincent tries to chase after Gauguin as he runs away, but he squirms in place, holding his arm.

Theo: "Hang on, broer! I'll patch you up right now!"

All that remained in the atelier were his brother's cries for support and a canvas mangled with blood and blade.

Meanwhile, in one of the city's hall...

Isaac: "Huh? Mozart?"

Mozart: "Isaac? What are you doing here?"

They both tilt their heads as they meet in an empty hall, even though they haven't arranged to meet.

Isaac: "I got a letter from a rector I know, specifying that I should come to this place for a chat."

Mozart: "A letter?"

Hearing this, Mozart pulls out a letter from his pocket, which he had also received.

Mozart: "I was summoned by the nobleman who asked me to play before."

Mozart: "I could've ignored it, but I was an acquaintance of Comte's, so I came here to save face."

Mozart: "But... it's strange."

Isaac: "Why are we being called to the same place at the same time by different people?"

Something is not right.

As both of them furrows their eyebrows at each other, a gentle tone suddenly fills the air.

It's a beautiful but somewhat sad piano piece.

Mozart: "This music..."

Mozart looks at the source of the sound.

Before he knows it, a hooded figure is seated in front of the grand piano in the hall.

Mozart: "It can't be..."

Seeing the face slightly peeking out from the hood, the delicate finger movements, and above all, the familiar music all points out to Mozart his identity.

Mozart: "Why are you here? Salieri…"

Salieri: "Long time no see, Mozart."

The man stops playing, sits up from his stool, and drops the hood he was wearing over his shoulders.

Mozart's former friend―Salieri, looks at Mozart gloomily.

Salieri: "You still look the same. Your character and your talent…"

Salieri: "But, yeah, I can now be free of my past. If I kill you, I can finally―!"

???: "What a pleasant occasion. Two friends reuniting―isn't it a memorable night, Newton?"

A dry applause echoes as Salieri exclaims in delight.

This time Isaac exclaimed in confusion when he saw the blonde young man appearing from the shadow of a pillar.

Isaac: "Heyーwait a minute. Why are you here too, Hooke!"

Robert Hooke: "Why you ask? Of course, I'm here to see you, Newton!"

Robert Hooke: "Come on, let's debate like we did back then and hate each other!"

Salieri's eyes filled with deep sorrow, and Robert's eyes filled with heat―Despite the contrast, the two looked vacant-eyed as if they were puppets.

Mozart: "Salieri... are you a vampire too by any chance?"

Salieri: "Yes, that's right. I wanted to play music again, so I got a life equal to eternity. But..."

Salieri: "You also came back to life in this world. And you still torment me. Even in death, you still torment me!"

Mozart: "..............."

The keys of the piano, struck by Salieri's fingers, play a sad and fierce melody.

While Mozart and the others held their ears at the jarring, eardrum-splitting sound, Robert burst out laughing.

Robert Hooke: "Hahaha... Newton. I really felt bad for what happened to you."

Isaac: "Huh?"

Robert Hooke: "They kicked you out of the Royal Society, remember? Do you know how sad I was to see you go?"

Robert Hooke: "But don't worry. I'm a vampire now, I'll stick with you in your deepest musings!"

Isaac: "Don't go digging up the past and telling a bunch of nonsense...!"

Isaac took a step or two back, pressured by Robert, who was nipping at his heels.

Mozart kept his eyes on them and whispered in Isaac's ear.

Mozart: "I don't think they're even sane right now."

Mozart: "I have no idea why this is happening, but we need to get out of here first."

Isaac: "That sounds like a good idea. Alright then."

Robert Hooke: "What are you whispering about? If anyone can keep Newton company in his musings, it's me..."

A shadow of jealousy flashed in Robert's clouded eyes.

Robert Hooke: "The people in the mansion are no match for you, Newton. You'd be better off with me. That's why―"

Mozart: "---!"

Robert ran across the floor before Mozart could even blink his eyes.

Robert Hooke: "Let's get rid of him first!"

Before long, a camouflage-colored knife in Robert's hand is closing in on Mozart.

The piano tone intensified, fueled by the aggression, and just as the tip of the knife was about to reach him...

Isaac: "Guh...Urgh...!"

Mozart: "Isaac!?"

Robert's knife ripped into Isaac's side as he pushed Mozart away.

Robert Hooke: "Wh―why are you protecting that guy!"

Isaac: "Mr. Hooke, you always annoyingly bumped into me..."

Isaac: "But it's not like you to hurt people like this. What in heaven's name is wrong with you?"

Robert looks down at his own bloodied hands in horror.

Robert Hooke: "What the hell am I doing? I can't believe I'm causing you trouble again."

The knife slipped from Robert's hand and made a thumping sound.

And as if on cue, the piano stopped playing.

Salieri: "That was... a terrible song. Have I risen from the dead to play such a hateful tune?"

Mozart: "............"

In a strange stillness, two pairs of eyes drift between madness and sanity.

While this is happening, Mozart puts Isaac's arm around his own shoulder to support his body.

Mozart: "It's okay. Let's go...!"

Mozart: "Just hold on a little longer, Isaac!"

Mozart and Isaac breathe out unconsciously as they leave the hall and arrive at the busy main street.

Isaac: "Those two don't seem to be following us. Good... Ouch!"

Mozart: "I'll get a carriage. I can't take you to the hospital, so you'll have to endure until we get to the mansion."

Isaac nodded his head, sweat beading on his forehead as he held his bloodied side, and a pang of bitterness welled up inside Mozart.

Mozart: "Isaac, why did you cover for me earlier?"

Isaac: "Eh? I was just moving when I realized..."

Mozart: "You're surprisingly a quick-witted fool."

Isaac: "H-Huh!? Isn't that a little bit too much?"

Mozart: "You have no reason to cover for me. Let alone take such an injury..."

Isaac: ".............."

Isaac gazes at Mozart's profile up close.

His violet eyes, usually cold, looked puzzled, regretful, and seemingly shaken with worry.

Isaac: "I don't regret my actions. I'm just glad that you're okay."

Mozart: "Is that so?"

He looks away from Isaac with his cherry-red eyes, perhaps to hide his embarrassment.

Without making eye contact, he murmurs a small "thank you" and then strongly picks Isaac back up.

The night that began so turbulently left an everlasting mark on their hearts...

Next Chapter

#ikemen vampire #ikemen series #ikevamp theo #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp act 2.5 #ikemen vampire act 2.5 #cybird #ikevamp translation #ikevamp

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loptyrs-moved · 4 years ago

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Sex Pollen List

Spring is in the air, and this has been on my brain for the last several days since I wrote the Hanahaki ask. I’m a sucker for flowers, what can I say?

So here are some headcanons of how I think some of the IkeVamp suitors would behave if affected by these ... special wild flowers.

More under the cut.

Leonardo Da Vinci

Red Salvia - Forever mine

Out of everyone in the house, Leo is perhaps the most well versed in sex pollen. He knows it exists, and has probably been affected by it once or twice. But if his partner isn’t used to it, and accidentally inhaled the sweet scent of the red salvia flowers, he knows what to do. His voice soothes his partner as he uses thick fingers to bring them some sort of relief. Sensual words feel like velvet. Leo knows every inch of their body -- he would do his best to at least make the experience for them enjoyable. But if he’s under the flowers’ spell too, there’s no holding back. Leo tries to be gentle, but he can’t help but be greedy with his beloved. But after everything, he would handle them with the utmost care. His love only deserves the best.

Vincent Van Gogh

Sunflowers - Adoration, loyalty, longevity

Probably never experienced sex pollen before, and oh boy, was he overwhelmed... It was the sunflowers -- traitorous blessing they were when the pollen was carried on the breeze, infecting both Vincent and his partner that day. Their plans were probably art related, and they just wanted to enjoy the day. But Vincent feels so unbearably hot, and the touch of his partner is the only thing that cools him down. He apologizes for being so selfish with them, but he’s driven by an animalistic urge that he can’t control. He’s sure to cover them in kisses as he fills them completely. His moans are so pretty, they’re like a work of art in themselves. After it all, Vincent might feel a little bad for being a little too rough with his partner ... but the fucked out look on their face might alleviate that anxiety for him.

Arthur Conan Doyle

Blue Delphinium - Joy, warmth, fun

He knows EXACTLY what sex pollen is, although, he’s never experienced it. To be fair, Arthur didn’t expect to come across it, but once he and his partner got caught in the crossfire of royal blue delphiniums, he was gone. Arthur was more than familiar with the heat of desire, but this fire burned differently. He felt like he would wither and fade away if he didn’t feel the sensation of his beloved skin against his. Ungloved hands couldn’t be needier. His head is swimming with thoughts of his love as he allows himself to sink deep into them. He’ll remember this moment forever with them -- Arthur will commit every declaration of love to memory. Perhaps he might look back on it while he writes for some... inspiration.

Isaac Newton

Apple Blossom - Heady love, peace, sensuality

The last thing poor Isaac expected was to be affected by a different kind of hayfever. He had heard Arthur tease him over it, remarking that maybe one day, the apple blossoms will make like Judas, and be his undoing. The damn cad jinxed him. Isaac is overwhelmed with a hunger that gnaws at him with a vengeance. It’s frightening, and he looks to his partner for relief. He can’t help but bury his fangs into the nape of their neck as they bring him relief and comfort. Their hands electrify him. Their lips ground him back to earth, and he feels so safe in their tender embrace. Once he feels comfortable enough to indulge himself completely, Isaac doesn’t hold back, and holds his partner close as they reach euphoria together.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #leonardo ikevamp #leonardo ikemen vampire #arthur ikevamp #arthur ikemen vampire #vincent ikevamp #vincent ikemen vampire #isaac ikevamp #isaac ikemen vampire #sex pollen #smut #smutcanons #headcanons #i'll start with these four #cybird ikemen #part 1 #sage writing

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years ago

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How about B, I, L, U, V for our big boi Theo? :3c

Sure thing, bub!! Theo hcs coming right up! 💙💙💙💙

I really hope you like them!!!! :3c

Fluff ABCs Template here for requests

Body -- What is his favorite part of her body?

Do y’all have any idea how hard it is for me to answer this letter without making this horny hours.

ANYWAY losing my mind because my instinct was to respond with “her tears.” And then my brain was like. Minnie that’s not a part of the body…that’s not how any of this works…But let’s pretend for a moment like I am valid, shall we?

No cap, I die on this hill. And my answer comes in two parts. The first reason tears destroy him like nothing else is because of how much she feels for the van Gogh brothers tbh. I think Theodorus is very accustomed to their situation being seen through a lens of indifference, a kind of “oh well, what can be done ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” especially. While he may argue that he’s used to it, he’s full of shit. It hurts every time–even more so because people are being dismissive about the person he loves most in the world (other than her, of course.) He’ll be silent for the most part, usually pretty stoic if those things come up, but the way her eyes glisten with tears just undoes him. He feels stupid to be so affected, but it’s something else entirely when somebody actually gives a damn. Somehow it's harder to keep his composure under that gaze...

The second reason is more about teasing. He can’t resist getting a reaction out of her sometimes, or seeing her brought to frustrated tears. That lovely blush overtaking the tips of her ears and face, to say nothing if it happens during nsfw hours. They make her face shine, a visible manifestation of all the emotion he tries so hard to deny–to run from–that it just moves him like nothing else. Where he can't find words or proper expression, she always does. Leonardo said once that a single glance at that man and you can tell he’s in love with art. And he was right, save that that kind of passion can be found in him again in moments like this. Alone, driving her to madness and pleasure.

It’s the part of him that belongs to her, and her alone.

Injury -- How would he act if she got hurt?

Lmao call Vincent instead of Theo if you actually want anything productive to be done about it.

I’m KIDDING mostly but to be honest I think he has a hard time hiding his distress when MC is hurt. If it’s something small he’ll try to play it off as mild irritation, muttering about oblivious hondjes and how she needs to be more careful. If it’s something like a bruise or a bandaged cut–maybe she bumped into something–he’ll just clumsily try to pat the pain away. Don’t try to hide it from him either because he has eyes like a hawk and will expose you. He’ll be a dumdum but it’s really sweet because he’ll be so gentle over such a tiny wound (it always amuses Dazai so much) that all the men will have to kind of hold back laughter. They don’t mean to mock the guy but he takes it so seriously it’s a little bit funny. Vincent is so unironically proud of him for being sensitive though and it’s enough to make a girl cry TwT

If it’s a very serious injury I am sorry but you are getting nothing but probably a panic attack from him. He doesn’t really do well with even the slightest suggestion of losing a loved one, so if she breaks a bone or experiences excessive bleeding–whatever the risk may be to her life–he is fighting to stay in control of his body’s response. He’s trying so hard to be strong for her, but he can hardly breathe and his vision is a little fuzzy and did they say she would be unconscious for a few days? Needless to say he’s a bit of a mess. Ideally, Vincent would do his best to help the guy stabilize while he waits for things to improve, but it’s touch and go for a bit there.

When she wakes up, he needs as much gentleness as she does in many respects. The stress attacks and constant distress have just resulted in so much tension and exhaustion, he doesn’t even have the energy for any verbal swipes at anyone. (I was going to say “he’s just a big puppy” but the irony hit me so hard I literally couldn’t finish typing the sentence). He just really needs lots of kisses and hand holds and promises she isn’t going anywhere, completely unprompted. Not to be emo (WAKE ME UP) but he really needs to be brought back to life slowly, in a way. He’ll get better with some time and assurance that she’s going to make it, but oTL hondje please, he can only take so many heart attacks in one lifetime.

Love -- How does he show her he loves her?

He does not.

I’m KIDDING but I stand by the fact that he’s more of a show than tell type of guy. He has a really, really hard time verbalizing everything that he feels, so I think the person he loves would ideally have to keep that in mind. He’s lowkey but very classy, imo. Gets surprise flowers every once in a while, buys groceries after work all the time if she needs things at home, always reliable with taking care of their finances (and in general). I feel like the thing about Theodorus is that he’s the quiet romantic; he won’t smooth talk or endlessly go on about love, but when she needs him? He’s there. Come hell or high water. When things are hard, when things feel impossible, when life just feels like one slap in the face after another–he’s warm and there and steady, leading her by the hand.

He's very proactive about just about anything other than expressing his feelings directly, so write that down--

Upset --How does he act when she's upset?

LMFAO catch him crashing at Vincent’s place tonight, no thanks murderous hondje ain’t it for me, sorry sweaty.

All jokes aside, I think he’s the type of guy who just has no idea how to handle it. I mean she’s the one that’s usually pretty stable emotionally, so when she isn’t it tends to be a big deal–the cause of her foul mood has got to be sizable. While he may be stymied upfront, will most likely go after the root cause of her distress and kill it with a hammer when her back is turned. Nobody upsets his hondje (unless it’s him) and gets away with it. The man has two modes: kill and more kill, and so he uses the second one as necessary in these situations.

That being said, it doesn't mean he's completely bereft of sensitivity. If it's a more sorrowful kind of upset, he'll try to make time for a lot of cuddling and pampering. Get her things she likes to eat/drink, rub her back gently, put on a movie she likes (even if it's boring to him). He hopes that some care and a few little distractions will be enough to calm her soon. He loves his hondje best when she's smiling, after all ùwú

Vaunt -- What is he proud of? Does he like to show her off?

Oh my goddddddd. Bih. If this man suffers from a cardinal sin, it’s pride I swear. Even if he’s Mr. Bad Mood Stink Face he will literally never say a bad word about her. There are so many people convinced he’s deadass got some kind of disorder because he has scary face, but also looks so delighted at the same time it's terrifying. Gets all puffed up about what a hard worker she is, how talented, how he couldn’t have done any of this without her. Even when he’s roaring drunk, now he just rambles on and cries about how much he loves her and Vincent and it’s beyond hilarious. Would throw down for her, would die for her, would steal a clown’s balloon for her–you name it.

She can do absolutely no wrong, so write that down.

Has a love hate relationship with showing her off (in the more blatant way) though because. Homewrecking. Does she look lovely in that dress? Undoubtedly so. If he sees one more gross lustful/covetous gaze directed at her though, he’s just gonna leave with her in tow. (He would throw hands but she doesn't like that.) Y’all know the whole Lord of The Rings’ “My p r e c i o u s” thing? That’s his vibe LMFAO. Depending on his mood he will either be like "hell yeah that's my wife you jealous bih, I'm the luckiest guy ever ik now buzz off" or he will just get more and more lowkey steamed until they leave.

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo #ikevamp theodorus #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp fluff headcanons #yall i laughed so much writing these this disaster fk kills me #the way he is just so #no💙#he's literally just that friend where you ask them to do smth #he says no #and then does it immediately #an angy legend we stan #pls enjoy all you theo thirsters #and ty for the request sweetums!!!! welcome anytime~#rambles #not incorrect quotes

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nafeary · 4 years ago

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Napoleon, Theo, Dazai, and Jean reacting to College Student!MC Stressed by Deadlines

Requested by @hqissodelicate:

hey toni boo, sara/delicateikemenmemes here ❤ i've been Going Through It with school 😔 so i was thinking of how my boos napoleon, theo, dazai & jean would react to MC who's a (stressed, exhausted) student who got yeeted to the mansion in the midst of a bunch of deadlines? thank you boo & i hope you're drinking your water 💙😤

✧✎ A/N: I’m sorry it took me this long to finish... but this was super fun to write and it helped me get back into writing after such a long break due to school bs. I’m not too satisfied with Dazai’a and the haphazard scenario/headcanons mush, but I still quite like this I think. Thank you for the request dear! Take care and drink water, everyone!

Warnings: Stress and mild mentions of anxiety, and like one mention of sexual intercourse

Napoleon Bonaparte

“You’re just a chore, after all.”

You whirled around. “Don’t act like your job is going to be that hard,” you could only scoff in annoyance, “I’m going to be inside my room all day, anyway.”

At first, Napoleon was slightly confused by your statement. Wouldn’t you want to explore this new world at all? But according to code, he’d just smirk and go (sleep) do smth

And true to your statement, you did stay inside your room for the most part

It’s not like your quadrillion essays would write themselves

It’s not like your college would just excuse your tardiness

It’s not like—

“Nunuche, you sure you don’t need a break from... whatever you’re doing?”

Napoleon was quite suddenly standing besides you, trying to read the mess that you’ve created.

“And who gave you permission to enter?”

“Me, obviously. I did have the impression that you were in danger, judging from the amount of curses I perceived.”

You could have died from embarrassment. Of course he had to hear your yells of frustration, stemming from the fact that your laptop was out of order, that you had no idea how to use ink properly, and—

“Have you realised that you regularly zone out?”

“I suppose? But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to finish...” you trailed off, gesturing to the papers in front of you.

However, at his inquisitive gaze, you decided to explain that these were essays that could very well decide how you’d pass university, and, upon further inquiry, elaborated how a modern student’s life looked like

He never interrupted you unnecessarily, only to ask questions when a concept was too modern for him to comprehend

Your cursed assignments certainly made your life in the past harder to enjoy, but it also brought you and the emperor closer than ever

Unable to access the internet—or visit the college library—you had no proper sources for you references (considering that Comte’s library had no modern content, naturally)

You also didn’t want to bother Sebastian, especially since him and Comte had shown so much understanding for your peril that they practically forbid you from helping him out around the mansion

Their reasoning didn’t make you feel less bad though

Hence, you only had one option left that could complete your last essay

Which oh-so conveniently encompasses the Napoleonic Wars, something you truly did not want to burden him with

“Napoleon? Remember those essays that I have to finish for my university courses?”

“Of course.”

You were twiddling your thumbs, contemplating whether your grades are worth revisiting unpleasant memories, aka the taboo of the mansion

Abruptly, he grabbed your cheeks with just enough force to turn you away from looking at your feet, but not enough to inflict pain. “If there is anything I can help you with, I’d never shy away from it.”

Begrudgingly, you inquired him about his reign with as little focus on the gruesome details as possible your professor be damned

And holy shit, he’s amazing at writing? And Not just cringey love letters? Panty Sniffer Napoleon brrrrr

As you grew closer, he’s spoil you with vitamin-rich snacks (going as far as asking Arthur and Sebastian for medical advice)

He enjoys carving cute shapes out of fruits and eggs because he knows that their and his adorable presence will prompt the perfect amount of distraction to allow a small moment of rest

Says that it’s his duty as your guard and boyfriend to take care of your overworking habits

Expect frequent complaints from your beau, ranging from “how could they assign so many essays? Aren’t students just humans, too?” to “‘Reasons Why Edison Is Better Than Newton’? Do they even know what they’re talking about? Tch!”

Theodorus Van Gogh

You gleefully indulged in his charades for the first few days. They were a welcome distraction from your college work, after all

But the procrastination was accompanied by guilt, your anxiety building up every second you spent helping Sebastian with the chores, and gallivanting around town with Theo

A week passed before your sense of responsibility finally kicked in. So when Sebas came to wake you up just as the sun peaked past the horizon, you were already scribbling away on some sheets you’d found in your drawers

“Ah, good morning, Sebastian-san.”

“Good morning... what are you writing, if I may ask?”

“Just some essays for my college courses...” you said, glancing dejectedly at your notes.

Now that you didn’t have access to the internet, and your laptop’s battery was all used up, it made your work all the more tedious, but you had to set your teeth and do this.

“Give me 10 minutes, and I’ll join you in the kitchen.”

He had wanted to argue, but you didn’t let him. And when he saw you leaving the house with Theo later in the afternoon, he could only shake his head.

You felt like you owed the art dealer, especially since you blurted out his secret the literal next moment, so you committed to helping him while also keeping up with your work

Although, him calling you dog wasn’t nice either—even though, according to Sebas’ explanation, Hondje wasn’t exactly the equivalent to mutt

That cycle continued for days. Helping out around the mansion, getting pulled around by Theo, and writing your essays deep into the night

Not to mention all the worries that pressured your shoulders further and further into the ground

You were missing so many group project deadlines, disappointing people that relied on you... it was safe to say that sleep did not come easy, if barely

Just before you arrived at your room after a late night art exhibit did your body decide to fail you, tripping over nothing multiple times.

It prompted Theo to call you out before you could even think of rushing past the door, steadying you with a hand more gentle than you had ever experienced it to be.

“Sebas informed me that you’ve been working yourself to death.”

You silently cursed the butler. “I haven’t—“

“Give me your laptop.”

Perplexion ran across your mien, wondering how he could possibly have remembered such a modern detail from your countless rambles. “It’s batt— it doesn’t work right now, so it’s not like it would stop me from working.”

Arguing with the devil was a mistake.

He snaked his arms around you, holding the door handle in place with one hand while the other still kept you upright. “I don’t care whether you work or not, I’m not your mother. And regardless of its abilities, hand it over, knabbletje.”

What other choice did you have but to comply?

He ordered—yes, ordered—you to go to bed right that instant

If you hesistanly ask him to do the same (we all know what a hard worker he is), he’ll just press a guileless kiss to your forehand, telling you not to worry about him

The next morning, you were already worrying for your baby’s safety within the sadist’s hands when the devil invited himself into your room

“Ever heard of knocking?”

“Morning to you, too, Hondje.” He sent you an overly handsome smirk, handing you the laptop tucked underneath his arms. “You won’t be able to use that spider web Sebas told me about, but writing should work.”

You stared at Theo in disbelief, all the while internally laughing at him misinterpreting the World Wide Web. Deciding to trust in him, you clicked the power button. And sure enough, it sprang to life. “What... how in the world did you...”

Leo overheard you and Sebas talking about solar energy sometime… hush, just run with it

He fell into the seat next to you, propping his chin upon his fist. “I didn’t do anything. Just asked Sebas whether there was a way for you to use this. Leonardo took notice and tinkered around with it. Don’t ask—ah!”

You threw your arms around his shoulders, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “Thank you for taking care of me, Theo.”

Would you have lifted your face, then you’d have caught a glimpse of the vermillion shading his cheeks. “I didn’t do it to help you. I simply can’t risk having you become a liability at work. That’s all.”

Anyway, tsundere tendencies aside, you know what another big factor of dating Theo is?

King if you’re not allergic, understandably, if so, he’ll change his clothes before even thinking of visiting you

On days that you decide to be especially stubborn, he pulls you outside, all the whilst whistling for the jolly golden retriever

And as soon as he comes running, your mind goes brrrrr cute dog

Although, he’ll try his best not to distract you from work. He knows from personal experience that it’s a much bigger annoyance than help

Thus, he’ll certainly use his connections and amiable rip Shakes relationships with the residents to help you out with the research process

Also, with his superior memory, he knows what generally makes you happy and relaxed, so he’ll be his usual observant self to decipher just what would help you perfectly relax/finish your work

Hardworking boi, please love him

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is the type of person that doesn’t mind upsetting people and risking someone’s disdain if it supports that person in the long run

And he’s able to read people like books, so it shouldn’t be surprising that he knows you’re overwhelmed before you even realize it

You’ve been going to sleep too late and waking up too early? He’ll gently force you (if you’re 100% against it, he won’t do it ofc) to sleep beside him, making sure that you won’t rise with the sun for once

You’ve been exposing your wrist to heavy sprain? He’ll teach you some handy-dandy 5 Min Crafts techniques that are guaranteed to send your hands on a vacation

You've been suffering from writer’s block? Time to go on a lovely stroll through nature with your boo

Your shoulders and neck are hurting beyond sanity? He swears by hot springs, so the thermae is his go-to for when you need to relive some muscle kinks

He never fails to procure the perfect amount of bubbles and temperature. And depending on how comfortable you are with it, he’ll offer to wash your hair.

And since dude got Disney princess hands, you most probably fall asleep, but our man is there to hold you above the water

His bare thighs are an added bonus, sending your mind into spirals faaaar away from college work

After you’re done bathing, he’ll ask you whether you’d like him to braid your hair (if it’s long enough), and his Disney princess hands will not disappoint

In the beginning, it was incredibly vexing to have a security cam in the form of a handsome man always on the qui vive

But at some point, you started embracing Dazai’s overwhelmingly passive—you knew exactly what he was doing whenever he’d do something random—protectiveness

Especially since it didn’t only help you complete your work; on the contrary, you were always excited to spend time with the Japanese writer

But that didn’t curb your confusion at the whole debacle. Why was he this focused on your well-being?

So, you decided to confront him

“Dazai?” Once again, you were relaxing in his arms, his fingers threading through your hair lulling you into a dreamlike state.

He ticked his head to the side, pulling your entwined hands closer towards his heart. The sun streamed into the run at just the right angle, yet the golden light was not as bright as his vivid citrine orbs.

You sighed, unable to look at his stupid handsome face for too long. ”Why is it that you insist on taking care of me?”

“Someone has to, Toshiko-san.”

You’d have blurted out your feelings if it wasn’t for the sudden embrace you found yourself in. As guileless as it appeared, you knew he was trying to stop you from acting on your thoughts.

Deciding that you didn’t want to pressure him further (after all, you knew that he had a hellish first life), you accepted the unclarity of his feelings—even though his actions spoke loud enough for you to understand.

It was that day that you decided to repay him for all he’s done for you

And you wouldn’t let him yeet himself through a window in an attempt to evade the love sent his way this time

Even if it took decades, you wanted him to feel just as safe and loved as you did in his company

You were glad to have such a caring man by your side who helps you with managing you self care

You could only hope that he’d allow himself to be treated the same way

Please just take our love, boo. We love you

Jean d’Arc

Well fuck, how could he possibly help someone who’s stressed when he himself is a 24/7 McDonalds that only sells Chicken McStress?

Anywho, I feel like he’d be the complete opposite of Dazai when confronted with a stressed MC

He’d care just as much, of course, but he thinks that it would be better to give her space, since he himself understands the desire for solitude well

So yeah, I can see him not going out of his way to check up on you if you weren’t super duper close friends/lovers IF it wasn’t for his friend Napoleon

After all, it was him who gave your boyfriend a lil talk, convincing him that, perhaps even if someone needs space, they probably still need someone to look after them

Living with Jean is basically Ted Talks everyday

Anyway, he embarked on his journey to hopefully help you and and to relieve some stress that was wearing you down (according to the statement of several residents)

And, finding himself halting abruptly, our pessimistic little bean realised that he’s got zero idea what did help you attain bliss

So he opted for the next best option—things he knew that made his friends relax

Plan A

Hearing a few oddly reluctant raps on your door, you went to open it. As soon as you did, the beautiful man who’d captured your heart entered your vision, your eyes finding his amethyst ones immediately.

You two stayed like that for a moments, only breaking eye contact when he sighed and simultaneously thrusted a mug into your hand, already in the process striding back to his own room.

“Uhm… Jean? I’m a bit busy right now, but would you like to come in?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t you find it inappropriate for a man to enter your room, mademoiselle?”

“Jean,” you giggled at his archaic mindset, gently rubbing your thumb between his brows to even out the crease. “We’ve had sex before, you know. Of course you ca—“

Wrong thing to say. He stormed past you, vermillion cheeks practically leaving a trail.

Chuckling to yourself, you turned to the mug’s contents. “Hm? Hot chocolate?”

Plan B:

“If this doesn’t harbor your discomfort…” Your boyfriend reluctantly stood in your room’s corner, standing straighter than a rod.

Frankly, your essays have kept you entirely too busy, and you longed for the warmth of the French man’s feather-like embrace.

“On the contrary, I enjoy your presence.” And you went right back to scribbling away.

Jean frowned. “Haven’t you been writing stories since this morning?”

“They’re not stories… and, yeah? I believe so.”

Stepping towards your seated form, he extended his hand; you grabbed it without thinking twice. “Is everything alrig—whoa!”

With the ease of a seasoned soldier, he picked you up before haphazardly tugging you into bed with bewilderment maring your features. “You should sleep.”

“—what?”

He stared at you blankly, as if expecting you to fall into the land of dreams right that instant.

“Did something prompt,” you slipped your arms out from underneath the duvets, gesturing wildly, “this?”

It was hard to be upset with Jean, his clueless but genuine persona the reason why you fell for him, yet you couldn’t disguise the irritation coursing through your veins—you had work to return to, after all.

“I think you need to rest, mademoiselle.”

Your blinking made him avert his eyes, explaining quietly, “I am uncertain what supports your release of tension, so I thought that perhaps sleeping could help since it certainly does show affect with Napoleon.”

“Ah, and you made me hot chocolate since that’s what calms Mozart.”

After internally simping for his soft and wholesome dumbass energy, you pulled him to bed beside you, claiming that it would help you relax (but only after telling him that it was okay for him to ask for your preferences)

And falling asleep to the heartbeat underneath his broad chest is definitely a 5-star-resort vacation

He’d eventually ask his relationship advisor Napoleon whether it is okay to have you help them out with his reading/writing lessons (you

You, alongside Napoleon, steadily agreed, despite knowing that it was a ploy to keep you away from overworking

Please also love this boy, thanks

Tag List of the most wonderful sweethearts (just message me if you’d like to be added <3): @juminly @kisara-16 @sweetlittlemouse @thesirenwashere @nad-zeta @delicateikemenmemes

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mangolover · 4 years ago

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Creature of The Dark part 4 (final part) (Theodorus van Gogh x reader)

Find part one here

Find part two here

Find part three here

Title: Creature of The Dark (part 4; final part)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire / Ikevamp / Ikevam

Pairing: Theodorus van Gogh x gn! reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: implied death, major character death (suicide?), nightmares, not eating properly, mentions of losing job, mentions of being homeless, argument, dark thoughts, mentions of a unhealthy relationship (lack of comunication), depression(?), swearing, shouting, snow, freezing, blood

Spoilers: Theo’s route

Word Count: 1400+

Description: He broke yet another promise and you cut ties with the whole mansion, trying to live on your own in city. Losing your job and getting kicked out, you didn’t know where else to go but to the art gallery.

Part 2: Going to the gallery was a bad idea and you become aware of that after the same mistakes got repeated and sparked an argument. Now you are sitting on a bench in the park, feeling hopeless until a faimilliar figure comes to your aid.

Part 3: You secretly came back to the mansion with the help of the Vincent, and as much as he helped you, it all came crashing down when you were discovered by Theodorus. Now all that’s left is to finally find the shadow in the darkness.

Part 4: Following Theo into the forest proved to be a stupid idea as you lost him fairly quickly. When you were close to giving up he came to your rescue, but the poor communication and the enhanced bloodlust cause him to push you aways. Finally you are ready to give up for today and lay in the snow, welcoming the cold, white blanket to be put over your whole being as you finally smile, the monsters in your head giving a you a bit of peace.

This has some first person perspective, but it’s mostly 2nd perspective.

Dark thoughts are going to be present throughout whole series, so proceed with caution.

Death might be the biggest trigger here considering it might be seen as a suicide. Please seek help and elieve me when I tell you things are gonna get better, don’t give up on yourself so soon.

Also, when somthing is writen like this ('example'), it's from the suitor's point of view or their thoughts, not reader's.

I really want to write a happy ending for this, but the angst with winter is *chef’s kiss*

Enjoy!

Running through a forest in winter may not have been the greatest idea and you learned it the hard way when you slipped and fell to the hard, cold ground, finally letting out your pent-up frustration in a single curse “Damn it!”

You slowly got up to your unsteady feet. Your whole being was unsteady and you felt like you will burst into tears at any moment, your palms and knees were stinging and you lost sight of Theo. “Theo, where are you? Please let’s just finally talk!” you yelled and spun around yourself, hoping that he can hear you. But the forest was silently mocking you. “Please…?” was muttered with a quiet, breaking voice.

‘No! Stop being so pathetic Y/n! You already dug your own grave; you can’t go back now!’

“Vincent only helped me because he’s an amazing person and you know that! I was going to sleep on the bench Theo, I lost my job and I don’t have any money for the food! That’s why I came to the gallery and that’s why Vincent snuck me in!” only the echo of your yelled-out words could be heard, but you had to continue. “I would be dead by now if it weren’t for him so don’t think he betrayed you! I am thankful to all of you for everything, but you and Vincent saved me from starving, freezing and being attacked when I needed you the most, so thank you for that!” You stopped yourself when you realized you started mumbling non-sense. You didn’t come after him to tell your pathetic sob story, you want to make things right.

“I-“ apologizing was never a hard thing to do before, so why can’t you do it now? “I’m sorry for doubting you when I know all you did was trying to protect me all those moths ago. I know that you are a secretive person and I expected too much of you and got upset when you couldn’t reach my unreachable standards.” Taking one more deep breath, you were ready to give it one last chance before you give yourself up to the cold. “Please talk to me, let me finally co-exist as your shadow, please Theodorus I am begging you.”

Silence fell over your world once again and you let out a humorless laugh before lowering your head. You kicked the small pile of snow in front of you and took a deep breath to welcome the numbness you were so desperately trying to run away from finally take over you.

“I-I am sorry” like a hero with a cape, Theo was suddenly standing in front of you, but still keeping distance for comfort. Numbness was once again casted aside for now as you tried to process just what has happened. “I’m sorry for breaking my promise once again. And I am sorry for yelling at you and scaring you, I messed up Y/n and I want to make things right…”

You want to make things right as well, maybe you always did, “but how?” you looked at him with tears in your eyes, a mix of emotions evident in your whole being. “How Theo? How can we make things right? What do we do?” you pressed your freezing fingers to your head, the never-ending headache only worsening.

“I don’t know!” Theo laced his fingers in his hair, tugging on it and lowering his head to hide a few stray tears that escaped his eyes. “I don’t know! I’m so confused right now!” The man you still loved was breaking apart in front of you and you couldn’t even hold him, trying to keep your own self together.

“I’m just so lost Theo! I miss you but I can’t find it in myself to come back! I feel like I messed up and it’s eating me up inside!” you choked on one of your sobs and fell to your knees, your hands now buried deep in the pure snow. “I just want it to be normal again, I just want us to start walking towards the sunshine together again! I am-” one more sob shook your whole body as you lifted your gaze to stare at the vampire. “I am just so tired Theo…”

Theo looked at you all this time, not even bothered by the tears that stained his cheeks. Did he mess up this bad? To him you looked like you were tired of living, like you were just barely hanging by thread anymore, but he didn’t know what to do. He was lost and tired as well. Tired from crying every night, wishing you would come back safe and sound. Tired of pushing on all alone. Tired of fighting on his own. Tired of cleaning his own wounds. Tired of going back to his old self. Tired of missing you.

Oh, just when did things go so wrong for the two of you?

“I am sorry Hondje” his voice barely above a whisper as you were shaking in front of him, breaking his heart once again, just as he finally believed he put it back together. He looked at you, his eyes so soft before his breath hitched in his throat. “Y/n, you are bleeding!”

That got your attention and you quickly looked down to your knees, trying to find any bleeding injury, but finding none. Only when Theo kneeled in front of you did you get a clear view of just how tired, but concerned he looked. He touched your cheek before stumbling back in the snow, trying to drag himself away from you. “Y/n, you need to get out of here. Now!” Your cheek was cut open when you dropped your plate and your blood was clearly affecting Theo, hard.

But you didn’t care. You only wanted the pain to stop. You only wanted to finally find your home to get some rest.

“No Theo! This is exactly why I left! You always push me away so please for once, try to work with me!” your voice was trembling a bit, but it was either dying by your lover’s hand or by the cruel miss cold that awaited you. “I am sorry for betraying you and going behind your back with Vincent yesterday, but nothing happened. I am sorry for leaving like a coward and not trying to do anything to fix-“ but Theo couldn’t hold himself back anymore, his bloodlust powered by the pure yearning for you pushed him over the edge and he yelled at you.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” you could swear the whole forest shook by the sheer power and volume of his voice and you scrambled to your feet and ran as far away as you could. By this point it was obvious to the monsters in your mind that there was no way this relationship could be saved. You couldn’t be saved either anymore. Instead you continued running ahead, blinded by the agonizing ache that you felt in your whole being.

Maybe Theo really was an unlovable man? Maybe the relationship between a human and a vampire was never deemed to last? Maybe you two were more like the sun and the moon, forever destined to be so close yet so far apart. Maybe he was the creature of the dark and you were only holding him back in the light where you could be with him. He didn’t need his loyal shadow anymore and you needed to learn that.

You tripped and fell in front of a river, but you made no attempt to get up, instead you only flipped to lay on your back and stare at the sky slowly turning dark. You didn’t feel cold anymore. You didn’t feel anything anymore. You let the pure snow reclaim you as your expression finally turned to a peaceful one. Maybe you didn’t find your home, but you found your way out, a way to finally rest.

Now you need to learn how to live without him before you finally fall asleep and never wake up, but the fluffy snow underneath you is so comfortable right now that you might just close your eyes in a bit.

You might just close your eyes and let the white blanket be put over you as you didn’t have any more energy to try and find anybody, instead only letting a shy smile grace your blue and purple, frozen lips.

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artstorieshusbandos · 4 years ago

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Tale of Two Tragedies-Theo's route (Ikemen Vampire) **spoilers**

Tragedy #1 Exhibit A

I honestly half expected him to haul off and draw a masterpiece in the tavern notebook. Not because he's a Van Gogh but because there's almost no way someone with his appreciation for art , his eye for it and his hardcore determination wouldn't have managed to at least be drawing on the side for enjoyment.

This scene would have gone down a little differently if I had actually been in MC's place. MC, it seems, doesn't do art. I've been at least scribbling since I was a kid that figured out I could rub the paint off my toys onto the wall. I would not have noticed the notebook on the counter, but ever since we left the private gallery earlier I'd been dying to ask him if he'd ever done any art. I daydreamed about asking while I was waiting for my tickets to replenish Why?

This isn't the voice of someone who doesn't want to do art.

Usually when someone tells me they can't draw I find out one of 3 things. They either don't really want to draw or at least they have other things they'd much rather put their time into which is fair. They actually can draw but have fallen into the trap of undervaluing their own work which may or may not be a result of comparing their work to the work of others. Then there's the third crowd that has the desire to do it, puts in the time but can't get anywhere because they are trying to draw from their left brain.

What am I talking about? I'm sure you may have heard that our brains have two halves and that the left half is connected to logic, mathematics, language, symbolism, ect, and the right brain is associated with imagination, creativity, music, spatial relations, distances, ect. Most of us don't know how that actually relates to someone's ability to draw or paint. The truth is art is something all humans can do to some degree. How good you manage to get is one part the desire to do it, one part putting in the practice and one part how well you can get your left brain to give over control to the right brain.

Vincent and Theo are such wonderful examples of what I'm getting at here with the whole left brain/right brain thing. Vincent is right brain dominant and I know this not because he's a talented artist but because it's a fact that Vincent Van Gogh is left handed. Our dominant hands are opposite our dominant brains. Theo is clearly left brain dominant not only because we can see it in his organizational and business skills we can see how he's talking in the second image where he's trying to draw King. He's thinking about drawing fur and eyes and the components of the dog not the forms. The parts are all named and labeled....this is left brain thinking. Compare it to how he talks when he is observing paintings and pushing the technical aside to just let it speak to him. This is the mode he needs to be in to create but he's trying to attack it with his stronger mode which is his left brain mode. It doesn't matter how much you practice if you are practicing the wrong thing.

The other pitfall he's hit is comparing himself to Vincent. As an artist never ever ever ever compare yourself to anyone but the you from yesterday. There will always be someone "better" than you and "better" will always be subjective. Vincent got a head start being right brained. When his brain reaches for it's stronger side it's going to pull from the correct one automatically.

Maybe at this point you're wondering why I spent so much time analyzing a fictional character in this manner? Honestly it breaks my heart to see him like this and though I know he's fictional I also know there are many many Theo's in this world who have given up because they don't know what's holding them back or that it can be conquered. I wrote this for them.

If this is you and you'd like to see what you're truly capable of do this one really easy exercise. Find a picture of something you'd like to draw. Draw it as best you can. If all you can do is draw a stick then draw that stick. Then take that same image and flip it upside down and draw it again. The reason for doing this is to force the left brain to let the right brain work. The left brain doesn't like to work with anything it can't define and slap a label on. When you flip the image upside down it makes it so the left brain can't properly identify the subject. It has no choice but to shut up and let the right brain work. Compare your two drawings. I was astonished the first time I did this. I no longer have my original upright drawing from the first time I tried this technique but I do have the first drawing I ever did upside down. Here it is.

Granted I had been drawing for years upright already but if you need a point of reference as to where I was in my skill when I started training my left brain to sit down here's another drawing from the same year.

Quite a bit of technical difference.

If this exercise worked for you and you're interested in learning more about how to train your brain for better art this is the book that taught me.

I recommend this book to any artist that hasn't read it. It's been the biggest help I've ever gotten on my journey. I don't know if Amazon is the best place to get a copy or not I didn't price match I just put up the first link I came to so you might want to shop around.

Tragedy #2 Exhibit B

Here is one of the last pieces I completed.

It was done in 2012. That's right.....it's been damn near a decade since I've turned out a completed art piece. It would probably break Theo's heart even more to know that there are people out here like me that have talent and aren't using it while he would love to do it and can't seem to. In fact he'd probably dump my ass if we were actually dating before he found out. I felt guilty before but now it's guilt x 1000. Are any of you out there in the same boat as me? Anyone out there that managed to get out of the rut that might have some tips for me? Maybe I should take some requests? What would you all like to see me draw?

Also if you're interested in seeing more of my stuff my gallery is collecting dust here

Theo has everything he needs to be a great artist. He has the eye for aesthetics, he has the desire and commits himself to everything. In his time psychology is in it's infancy. He doesn't even know yet what he doesn't know. If I was wrong about this and he still couldn't draw after a few training sessions I guess I'd have to start making him paint by number kits. He can pick the subject and the colors I'll map out the design and we'll do it together.

#ikemen vampire #theo #theo's route #artistic talent #spoilers #Art The Universe And Everything

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staycult · 4 years ago

Text

highschool!jisung as your boyfriend

pairing — gender neutral reader x jisung

genre — fluff / bullet scenario / friends to lovers

word count — 1.6k

enjoy!

u and jisung had been friends for quite some time now

ever since highschool started probably

u guys were in the same friend group

you were always with him during lunch

and u guys go home together bcs ure practically neighbors

“[y/n]! smile!” he said as he pulled out his favored polaroid camera

as you were about to turn your head around you heard a loud click, coming from the camera

a flash of light blinded your eyes

so you tried to cover it

“hey! i wasnt ready!” you pouted, giving jisung a light slap in the arm

he stuck his tongue out to mock your reaction and pulled out the film from his camera

“you look ugly” jisung snorted, fanning the film

“shut up and start moving!” you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand to make him walk faster

bcs guys were about to go home

“do you want to stop by at the park first?” jisung offered

ofc u cant resist him

his presence always make u feel at ease

“buy me ice cream then let’s go” you bargained, earning an eye roll from him

“Two ice cream cones please!” you requested, giving the money to the cashier. you tapped your finger on the cold surface while your other armed propped your chin. jisung on the other hand was shuffling through his notebook filled with polaroid pictures that he took with your friends.

“stop staring at my pictures, ji” you laughed while grabbing your cone from the man in front of you and giving the other cone to jisung. “keep staring and you’ll fall for me” you added as you licked your ice cream. he clicked his teeth, “ew, you wish”

both you and jisung walked around the park, still in your school uniforms. the park is the place where you and your friends hang around when you guys have time. the slide and the swing are your most favorite part.

you sat down in the swing and tapped the other seat to motion jisung to sit down as well. “look, the sun is setting!” you pointed as you finished your cone. you looked over to jisung who was his camera pointed at you for the nth time. but this time, you managed to strike a pose in front of his polaroid camera. his cheeks can be seen from behind, obviously smiling at the sight.

days went by

you and jisung had been hanging out in the park swing almost every day

just the both of you

watching the sunsets and taking pictures

you noticed that he only takes random pictures of you but when youre with friends, they need to ask first before jisung would take a picture

he claims that your face is funnier with stolen shots

ofc u believed him

he is your best friend after all

the school year is about to end

and your music and arts teacher is talking about your final project

which was to write a song or poem, draw a portrait or make a poster

with a special meaning behind it

you almost ripped your hair out of frustration when you tried to compose a song or draw

so u went for a simple poster

you and your friends were comparing your final outputs in the cafeteria

“come on, show us yours!” your friends encouraged you

“ahh, it’s really ugly im not even good at these kinds of shit!” you cursed, showing it to them anyway

“seriously? it’s good! youre like jisung. god, both of you say you did bad but it’s not!” you friend said while eyeing your poster

“really? jisung i want to see yours!” you said while grabbing some of your friend’s food

“no” he said, sticking a tongue out to mock you

“why not?” you replied while pouting

both of you bickered for atleast 3 minutes

saying lots of ‘no’s’ and ‘why not’s’

he had enough of your shit

and pulled you out of the cafeteria

holding his notebook, backpack and a ukelele

jisung was grabbing you by your wrist until you arrived at the school’s rooftop. you didn't have the time to respond at his sudden action.

“ouch! what was that about?” you said once he lets go of your wrist. “you want me to show you my output right? well here it is. listen.”

you were taken aback by his words, did he really get annoyed by your previous bickering? and why are we on a roof top anyway????

jisung grabbed his ukelele and opened his notebook, which was filled with polaroid pictures of you that was taken over the school year and years before that.

“it’s called hello stranger,” he spoke and started strumming on his ukelele

“The moment I felt like our eyes met

my body moved all on its own

Movin’, movin’, movin’, movin’, movin’

The closer we get the more I think

about what it is I’m feeling

My mind is filled with question marks

I can’t see anyone

around us anymore, you’re just growing more clear

Everything on this road

is blurred and faded out except for you

I’m filled with nothing but curiosity about who you may be

It’s like I’m approaching you drawn by something I can’t even know

I won’t beat around the bush, my subconscious is pushing straight forward

having me walk as it pleases without a single thought

Ah, a new wind is blowing

Where could it have come from?

It’s strange, but it’s not cold

Before I know it my feet are moving, following the wind

I take my hands out of my pockets

Hello Stranger, I keep being drawn to you

Growing closer

to you without a single thought

I’m curious, more and more and more as time passes,

why am I like this? Who are you to do this to me?

Stranger

Nana nanana nana

Closer

Hello Stranger, who are you to do this to me?

I can see in you the things that I myself am lacking

I try yelling out to you the things I had just yelled into empty space

The things I didn’t have, that I was missing before I met you,

all of these feelings, every moment

my mind is filled with exclamation points

I can’t see anyone

around us anymore, you’re just growing more clear

Everything on this road

is blurred and faded out except for you

Something’s different about you, but I’m not sure what

I think the light approaching me now must be you

Even if I look away I can still see your afterimage,

you never leave my sight, who are you to do this to me?

Ah, my feet are moving, following this new wind

I take my hands out of my pockets

Hello Stranger, I keep being drawn to you

Growing closer

to you without a single thought

I’m curious, more and more and more as time passes,

why am I like this? Who are you to do this to me?

i love you”

it’s been weeks since you and jisung last spoke and since his sudden confession

you were about to tell him how you felt, too

how he makes you happy these past few days

to the point where you were falling for him too

but he ignored you

was it because he felt awkward?

or scared?

confusion was taking over you

and you know damn well youre gonna have to take measures into your own hands

so you came up with a plan to atleast get him to talk to you

“come on! just say i wont be there” you begged your friend. “fine. so roof top it is?” you squealed and gave your friend a hug. plan was to make your friends invite jisung at the same place he confessed on only to see youre the only one there

you grabbed your backpack since you had a vacant class and went to the rooftop to prepare. you knew jisung had a vacant class too, so you were hopeful he’s going to drop by.

“hi, i like you too” you practiced “no, too awkward” you ran your hands through your hair in frustration. “hey jisung! will you vincent van gogh out with me?” you repeated with hand motions this time. “god no” you mentally slapped yourself because of the cringe

“jisung, i like yo-” you repeated. you felt someone hug you from behind, “you do?” his husky voice sent shivers down to your spine as he hugged you even tighter.

“i-i do” you admitted, removing his arms so you can face him properly. “i really really do, i cant stand you not talking to me.” you burried your head to the crook of his neck.

“im sorry, baby. i didnt know how to handle rejection yet” he let out a low laugh, earning a laugh from you too. he snaked his arms around you and swayed you back and forth. humming the tune of the song he composed.

“youre mine now, are you?” he spoke, kissing your forehead as you gave him a nod.

bf jisung would mean

A VERY PLAYFUL RELATIONSHIP

SERIOUSLY

the confession may be soft and cuddly

but after like 2 days

yall are like best friends again

but with a mixture of sweetness

things never really changed

but you were still glad

love letters and songs !!!!!

lots and lots of kisses

cheek, forehead, chin, shoulder kisses

you name it

he would gently cup your face while doing so

he likes teasing you

but u tease him back

ends up with him being all pouty

will help u out with homework

ice cream and park swing dates

would literally take polaroid pictures of both of you

the ones he took before yall got together is displayed in his room

on the back of his phone

and the rest, he keeps it in his notebook

which was filled with songs about you

will sing you to sleep

will hold your hand literally every where

“baby, im the luckiest to have you”

author's note —

just imagine it's the slow version of hello stranger ok ALSO i want jisung to be my bf like ??

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thewitchofbooks · 4 years ago

Note

Hello there ! I am all for new blogs and I just saw you were taking requests for ikemen vampire and so I decided to send in a request :) So how do you think Vincent, Mozart, Napoleon, Shakespeare and Arthur would react to discovering MC was an amazing actress by stumbling upon one of her movies ? Thank you so so much :))

Hello~Thank you for your support, i really appreciate it!Also, thank you for requesting!I hope you like it~

Warnings:Bad English (I’m sorry, it’s not my mother language!)

Game: Ikemen Vampire

Characters: Vincent Van Gogh, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Napoleon Bonaparte (Born to Party), William Shakespear and Arthur Conan Doyle.

Type: Headcanons

This takes place in the modern time.(The boys travelled with the MC.)

Vincent Van Gogh:

One day, Vincent stumbled upon a shiny box.He was very curious, so he opened it.(Of course, he had your permission.)

His face lit up when he saw his gorgeous girlfriend on the cover.

The more he looked at the DVDS, the more he wanted to learn about them, so he took one and put it in the DVD player.(after a lot of struggling.)

Not even ten minutes in the movie and he had already fallen for your acting.

The way you fought and the way you talked was enough for Vincent to fall in love with you all over again.

“My angel is so beautiful and strong!”He was smilling so hard whenever you were on the screen, that his cheeks were hurting.

He is so soft for you, that he laughed everytime you laughed and cried when you did.

He is already making fanart and he joins all the fandoms available.He has his own blog where he posts his fanart.

When you returned to your home, you found tones of detailed sketches with you as the protagonist.

And thousands of kisses.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart:

Mozart was very surprised to say the least.

He was bored, so he turned on the TV, but nothing caught his attention.

He desided to change one more channel and he found himself looking at you, in elegant clothes, playing the violin.

‘Wait, where you in a consert?’He read the information and understood that it was simply a movie.

Mozart was blushing madly while listening to you.Your music was good and the interactions between the characters was exiting.He would never say it out loud.

He also wouldn’t admit that he was captivated and thinking of writing a piece for you to play.

Your face was so emotional in every scene.He was a bit jealous that others could see those expressions of your.

When you returned from your work, you got bombarded with questions and a very emotional Mozart (and his wet wipes), who wanted hugs to distract him, because he saw you dying in a movie.

Napoleon Bonaparte:

Napoleon was watching a few movies with swordfighting and would you look at that!

“Is my nunuche one of those stars?Damn, she’s good!”Napoleon was impressed (and turned on) with the way you were fighting.

He remembered the time you told him that you were taking lessons, but never knew the reason why.

Now that explained a lot.

Another thing that caught his eye was the interactions between the characters and his ‘nunuche’.

Your face was harder to read than normal.It was challenging for him.

You were acting like another person and he was captivated.

By the time you woke up, he had accounts in every social network, which were full of posts filled with admiration.

William Shakespear:

This man knew that you had potential.

He is watching you every dayand all those expressions and theatrical moves are “screaming” talent for him.

Until that fateful day, where he went to the cinema and found a huge poster and your gorgeous figure as the heroine.

Shakespear didn’t want anyone to distract him from watching it, so he bought ALL the tickets for the premiere.

The day comes by and you’re in his arms, while he guides you to the best seats.

Throughout the duration of the movie, his eyes are changing from happy, to sad and everything in between.

“You are amazing, my dearest.Thou are art itself.”He spoke smoothly.

In his mind, he has new ideas for senarios and the protagonist is you!

He is pretty sure that you could enchant everyone with your acting.

Arthur Conan Doyle:

Arthur already knew these was something going on with you and acting.

Your bright eyes, the way your body was ready to move and act in every live performance the both of you went.

Days after your last date, he was alone in your house.He was extremely bored, resulting in finding a gigantic stack of films.

Arthur was glad he was right.He was smirking up until he saw a cover of you kissing another handsome man.

He was extraordinarily envious, but when he played the movie, he was awed by your acting.

“You’re so talented, luv.”

A badass scene came up and he was cheering so badly, the neighbours called to complain.

The time you set your foot in your apartment, he is kissing and hugging you.

Expect a lot of praise.

I really hope you enjoyed it!Request are still open~

NadiaSilver~

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire vincent #ikemen vampire mozart #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp arthur #ikemen vampire headcanons #fanfiction

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toomanyfandoms02 · 5 years ago

Text

Kisses // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

This is a request for both @boiled-onionrings and @aberrant-annie ! I ADORED writing this!!!

Summary - Reader is an artist with serious art block. So she decides to kiss her best friend all over and turn it into art.

Word Count - 2.2k

This is based off of THIS gif from @nationgubler

I loved being an artist, but with any career in the arts, there is a time where you have some kind of block.

And I was having artist block, right now.

I sat in my studio, my back laying against the floor of the cold tile. As if the ceiling was going to spark some kind of Vincent Van Gogh idea in my head. I lightly brought my hand to my face, slapping my forehead.

"Come on y/n! There's something in there, anything, anything!" My head lolled to the side in frustration, eyes closed. I let out a loud groan of frustration, very grateful in this moment for choosing the most soundproof room of my apartment to do art. This was out of courtesy of my very kind neighbors. I opened my eyes slowly, hoping that something would come soon so I wasn't so damn angry. That's when I saw it.

The book Matthew had gotten me for my birthday a few months ago, sitting right next to my painting of lips, one of my best selling prints.

"Hmmm." I sat up slowly, contemplating if I should even ask this favor of him, but Matthew really cared about my career. Maybe I was in luck, so I dialed his phone number. He answered within 2 rings.

"Hey y/n, what's up?" He sounded out of breath, making his voice slightly raspy. This caused my heart to beat a bit faster.

"Uh, I have a favor to ask you, are you okay? You sound out of breath." I could hear him huff another deep breath.

"Yeah! I'm on a run in the park right now."

"Oh! Well don't worry about it then, I can save this-"

"No no! What do you need, I'm on my way home." This was honestly the most nerve-wracking thing ever, asking my best friend And someone I'm slowly falling for to do a kind of scandalous pose for a painting for me.

"It's kind of, weird. It involves art. I can't come up with any ideas and this one came into my head, you can totally say no, I won't-"

"Honey, good lord, I'm not gonna judge you, just tell me." He laughed in the end, easing my stress only slightly at the sound of it.

"Alright, it would be a portrait of you from waist up, but, also, I would, ugh. I feel weird about it!" I paused momentarily, sighing into the phone and making a pouty face that he *thankfully* couldn't see. "Then I would put kisses all over you, to like, I don't know."

"Spice it up?"

"Yes."

"I'll be over soon, I'm gonna take a shower. See you soon sunshine!" And that was it. Nearly no hesitation and he agreed to it.

*Why did I worry so much?*

Probably because you like him so much, *dumbass*.

I tidied up my studio as a distraction, waiting for a knock at my door. My wooden easel clicked on the floor as I set it near the big window in the room. I set a stool in front of it for Matthew, facing him towards it for good natural lighting. I plopped a 24x16 canvas onto the easel. My heart nearly jumped from my chest as I heard the knock at my door. I almost slipped running to it.

I opened the door to see a smiling Matthew. He was leaning against my door frame dressed in a white button-down and some regular jeans.

"I don't see you wearing any lipstick, how are you gonna manage putting kisses all over me without it?" He teased with a smirk.

This man really knew how to make my heart stop, it was almost insane how much of an effect he had on me. But I was surprisingly good at hiding it.

"I haven't put it on yet you nerd." I hit his chest lightly, moving out of the doorway so he could come in. "You can still back out if you feel weird about this. And also, this is gonna take a while." I looked up at him nervously. He grabbed my shoulders, looking right into my eyes.

"I love helping you with art, stop thinking you're such a burden." He shook me a little, bringing another smile to my face.

"Fine, go sit on the stool back there and unbutton your shirt a few buttons," I ordered him as if I had any confidence when it came to him. I walked to the bathroom adjacent to my studio, grabbing my red lipstick and applying it in the mirror.

"I love the color!" Matthew shouted from the doorway of the bathroom, almost causing me to drag the makeup across my face. I pulled it away from my lips slowly, looking over at the idiot who was constantly scaring me. I gave him the death stare. He quickly brought his hands into a surrender position and backed from the room and into the studio. But not without giving me a wicked smile. I rolled my eyes and followed him.

"Sit!" I shooed him onto the stool I set up for him.

"Yes ma'am!" He saluted, sitting gracefully onto the wobbly seat.

"You promise this won't be too weird?" I asked a final time, a very *very* small part of me hoping that he would think it was too weird so I didn't have to torture myself even more with this horrible crush of mine. He just stared at me with one eyebrow raised, as to silently say.

*Do I really have to assure you again that I don't care?*

"Alright! Let go then." Another wave of anxiety shot through me as I leaned down to his level. My hands parted his hair to where I wanted it. I then kissed my thumb to make sure the lipstick was still wet enough to transfer, and sure enough, the red pigment was smudged onto the finger. Here we go.

I grabbed his face with both hands and brought my lips to his left cheek, leaving a kiss slightly above his cheekbone. I then left another kiss lower on the same cheek. On his right cheek, I put one right in the middle and one more near his chin.

I backed away from his face, pulling the lipstick from my pocket to reapply it. I watched his eyes as I put it on, seeing something I'd never seen in his eyes before.

"You okay Gubler?" I giggled a little, recapping the tube, I smacked my lips, ensuring that I got it everywhere. He blinked several times before shaking his head a little bit.

"Yeah! Uh, yes. Just zoned out." He nodded curtly, now venturing his eyes out the window.

"Okay weirdo." I chuckled. "I'm gonna kiss your chest now." I chuckled again, much more nervous than the previous one. He simply nodded and looked down at me with a small grin.

I got on my knees and opened his shirt a bit. Hopefully, he couldn't feel how much my hands were shaking, because let me tell you, I was *trembling*. I placed my hands on his shoulders and placed a kiss on the side of his neck first. I watched as Matthew sucked his lips into his mouth slowly tilting his head back. His hand was brought to his face and he left it there for a moment. I raised an eyebrow at him but quickly shrugged it off, I wasn't going to let this lipstick dry again.

I leaned down further, kissing his collar bone and then a final one near the center of his chest. At this point, Matthew was looking down at me again. He let off a loud breath and ran his tongue over his lips.

I stood up dusting my legs off, Matthew's eyes following me.

"Are you seriously okay? You're acting kind of funny." I came close to him, putting my hand on his shoulder. He looked like a puppy dog looking up at me from the stool.

"I've got a small headache I think." It was a quick answer that seemed like a lie.

"We can stop-"

"No!" I jumped back from him, startled. "No, it's seriously fine. I'm just gonna get ibuprofen from your cabinets." He stood so quickly and turned toward the door.

"I can get that for you!"

"No it's fine I got it." His voice was farther now, almost completely in the bathroom. Even from this far his voice sounded strangled.

*Was this weirding him out? It really seems like it was.*

I gathered my colors from my oil paint box and brought them to the small table next to my easel.

Just a few minutes later Matthew emerged from the bathroom, looking like he felt better.

"Looks like the ibuprofen is working fast." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He snickered, sitting on his stool with a suspiciously large smile. I just shook my head a walked up to pose him. I turned his shoulders slightly toward the window, opening the shirt to see the kisses. I frazzled his hair a little to give it a bedhead look and once I was happy with everything, I went back to my seat.

"Just look wherever is comfortable. I'm giving you free will on that." Of course, he chooses to look directly at me.

"You sure you wanna look at me during this whole process?" I joked, starting with some skin-colored paint on the canvas.

"Well yeah, you're the most interesting thing in the room." I could feel the tips of my ears burn at the comment, not bothering to hide the smile that formed on the face.

"Well, thank you." I kept my eyes on the canvas, partly because I was painting, and partly because I thought that if I looked in his eyes I might melt into a puddle.

I was finally done with the base of everything. I pretty much had an outline with the correct colors.

"Okay, I'm taking a break. Do you want to snack with me?" I stretched my legs as I stood from my chair, my arms flailing high in the air.

"Yeah, what are you getting?" His hands rubbed together like a mischievous fly.

"I made chocolate chip cookies last night. I'm gonna heat them up so they are melty." I excitedly padded my bare feet to the kitchen. I slipped 3 cookies onto a plate and placed them in the microwave for 20 seconds. My back leaned on the counter as Matthew peered over me at my cookies.

"Someones excited about cookies." I laughed, grabbing them for the microwave and setting them on the counter, eating half of it in one bite.

"And you say *I'm* excited." He replied with a mouthful, clearly poking at the way I ate the cookie.

"You just ate yours in one bite!" I shot back.

"Whatever." He grabbed another, eating that one whole as well, as melted chocolate, slipped down his chin. He raised his hand to wipe it off and I was not quick enough to stop him.

"I'll just touch it up when we go back." He looked at his hand that was a mixture of brown and red and made a pouty face at me. "It's fine, here." I handed him a rag to wipe his hands and we went back into the studio.

On the walk back I was already reapplying my lipstick so I could fix the smudge on his face. I slipped into the bathroom quickly, grabbing my makeup wipes to fix the smudge as well. He sat in the stool once again.

Much less nervous this time, I grabbed his face the same way I did before and kissed over the same spot, making it darker and more defined again. As I was about to pull away from his face, Matthew's hands grabbed my wrists, stopping me from leaning away.

"What are you doing?" My heart hammered against my ribs, and at this moment I was hoping he couldn't hear it.

"Do you think there's anything else that needs to be fixed up?" His voice came out in a whisper, I could feel it against my face. "Do you think my *lips* should be red too?"

*Was he saying what I think he was saying?*

Apparently he was, because we both leaned in with closed eyes, connecting our lips. He pulled me into his lap on the stool, grabbing the back of my neck to deepen the kiss. I was sure that I was getting lipstick on much more than his lips at this point.

After quite the makeout sesh, we pulled away, both panting.

"What was that for?" My brain was in a complete haze. I realized I was still on his lap and began standing up, only to be pulled back down by his hands.

"I decided to finally make a move." He chuckled, leaning his forehead on mine.

"You mean, you like me?"

"No, I make out with everyone, all the time." He deadpanned. I giggled, running my thumb across his lips and showing his all the red that had transferred.

"Totally worth it." He smirked, kissing the tip of my nose sweetly.

*I'm not gonna get anything done with this man around.*

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #MGG #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg fic #mgg imagine #mgg gifs #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler

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thewildsophia · 4 years ago

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.Sunflower. Clone High//Van Gogh x Reader

Van Gogh x Reader

A/N: It’s been a while hasn’t it?

Word Count: 1957

As a photographer, you saw the world in frames, scenes that were waiting to be captured. Sometimes, if you had the chance, after you’ve taken some photos, you’d return home and use them as references for your sketches. Most of them were of nature scenes or cities, but a decent size of your photos were of people. Most were of students at Clone High while the rest were of people you’d see on the streets, but recently you’re Nikon’s been filled with one person in particular.

He was an odd choice and even you couldn’t explain why he had caught your eye, but your new subject was none other than Van Gogh.

Call yourself strange or weird, but Van Gogh was generally just…handsome in your eyes. He was petite and short in height, yet he stood out in a crowd with his bright, orange hair and those striking celeste blue eyes. Many of your photos of him were taken from a distance and without him knowing, so he’s not even facing the camera in them. But the few that you did have where he was looking at the camera, where he was smiling, you cherished and often redrew.

Along with photographing him, however, you began to photograph the things he likes, mainly sunflowers. Before, you never really cared much for sunflowers; they were just another flower to you. However, after meeting Van Gogh and learning his love for sunflowers, you gained a new admiration for them.

Speaking of which, you were photographing a wheat field that had sunflowers scattered about in it -- you had found it after speaking to Van Gogh and finding out that that was one of his favorite places to just hang out -- when inspiration had struck.

You were currently working on a piece for Van Gogh himself. You had heard from a little birdie -- that birdie being Joan -- that his birthday was coming up, so you decided to make him something.

It wasn’t much, just a collage of a sunflower field that you made using the pictures of sunflowers you had with Van Gogh in the center (using, of course, one of the less creepy, stalkerish pictures of him). You had originally wanted to paint it but your painting skills were…less than desirable, so you stuck with something you knew you could do well.

You had finished it a few days before his birthday and were quite proud of it. You wrapped it and waited for the day to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time flew by and his birthday was today. Joan had informed you that her and Caesar were going to visit him and had invited you to join, which you hastily agreed to. The only problem is that you had to stay after school that day to help out the freshmen in photography (since none of the other juniors would do so).

Joan had asked where you were and you quickly sent her a text explaining that you were stuck with the freshmen and would be there as soon as you could be. Turns out the soonest you could be there was way after they had their gathering, close to 8 pm. You had told Joan to let Van Gogh know that you’d still stop by to see him.

True to your word, after closing up the photography classrooms and making sure all the freshmen had gone back to their dorms, you went back to the student dorms and made your way to the 4th floor, where Joan and told you his room was.

Collage in hand, you knocked on his door hoping that you weren’t waking him. You didn’t know how early, or late, he went to bed. After a moment the door opened and Van Gogh was there, looking up at you.

“Oh, there you are,” He began, “I was wondering if you were coming at all.”

“Sorry,” You said with an apologetic smile, “I got stuck helping the freshmen out in photography. No one else wanted to do it so I was left to.”

“You’re fine. I remember earlier this year, I spent 5 hours helping some of the sophomores in painting I. It was…not all that fun.” He said with a small smile. You laughed at that and he soon laughed with you.

“Did you want to come in?” He asked after the two of you had calmed down some. You shifted on your feet before answering,

“Only if it’s okay with you.”

“Oh it’s more than okay with me,” Van Gogh said, opening the door wider and moving to the side to let you in. Doing your best to keep your face neutral at that comment, you walked in and sat in an offered chair in his kitchen.

Van Gogh followed suit, grabbing two waters from his fridge and giving one to you. You thanked him as he sat down in the chair across from you. The two of you were quiet for a moment before you spoke.

“Sorry again for coming so late,” You began, “I really did mean to come here while the others were here.” You looked down at your hands where they were folded on the table.

“And again, it’s fine,” Van Gogh said, making you look up, “I of all people know how difficult it can be when it comes to helping lower class men.”

You smiled at his understanding before asking,

“What did you guys do anyways?”

“Not much,” Van Gogh said, “We just talked and listened to music while we painted. It really was nice; normally I spend my birthday alone.”

“Paintings. Crap your gift…stupid.”

“I’m glad to hear you had a good time, and before I forget,” You said, placing your gift on the table and sliding it over to him, “Here’s your gift, for me to you.” You finished with a smile. Van Gogh took your gift with a smile.

“Aw, you didn’t have to.” He said, running his fingers over the wrapping.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” You said, rubbing your upper arm, “Now, open it!”

“Now?”

“Yeah now.”

Van Gogh began opening it, gently removing the wrapping paper instead of tearing it. He placed the paper on the table and his face contorted when he looked down at the collage.

At first you thought he didn’t like it, but that thought subsided when you noticed how his mouth opened slightly and blue eyes widened, tears beginning to brim at the corners. He sniffled and that’s when you spoke up.

“Hey,” You called out softly, “Are you…”

“I’m okay.” He said, “I just-” He cut himself off by covering his mouth. He looked away from you, doing his best to not cry in front of you. You remained quiet, waiting for him to calm down. You were concerned, but you waited patiently.

“I love it,” Van Gogh said after a moment, “I’m sorry, I just…” He said, covering his hand against his mouth. He stood up, walking over to you and hugging you. You hugged him back, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’m always making art for other people,” He said into your shoulder, “No one’s ever made something like this for me. Thank you.” You smiled.

“You’re welcome.” You whispered before he pulled away, wiping his eyes with the palm of his hand.

“Sorry,” Van Gogh said, looking over to where the collage was still sitting on the table, “It really is a beautiful piece.” He sat back down where he was a moment before, looking over the collage in more detail.

“I’m glad you like you,” You said with a smile, “I had to go through multiple flash drives in order to find good enough photos for this, so I’m glad my effort didn’t go to waste.” He didn’t say anything, simply looking over the collage more, but you didn’t mind. After a moment, Van Gogh’s face scrunched up and he looked up at you asking,

“Are these…from the wheat field? The one with the sunflowers that I told you about?” You felt your face flush and you looked away from him.

“Some of them, yeah,” You answered, “How could you tell?”

“Here, look,” He said, waving you over, “This sunflower, the one that’s got the tiny center, is from the field. So is this one with the orange petals aaaand…so are these ones, the little siamese ones.” He pointed to each sunflower and, sure enough, those were in fact the ones from the field.

“You’ve got a good eye, Van Gogh.” You said surprised.

“So do you,” Van Gogh said, looking up, “Most people would use the ‘normal’ looking ones but you chose the ones that were different. Why?” He asked.

You thought for a moment before answering,

“Well, I just thought of the person I was giving it to,” You started, which seemed to peak his interest, “You’re different. You’re somewhat ‘ratty’ looking, but you’re not gross. You’re -- despite how cheesy this is going to sound -- unique, and that’s what I like about you. That’s… was looking for in the flowers.” You quickly added onto the end. You felt your face burn as you finished explaining this, and you hoped to God that he didn’t notice the heat rising to your face.

Van Gogh smiled softly, running his fingers over the work.

“Thank you, Y/N,” He whispered, “I really appreciate this.” He looked up at you and you felt your heart melt at the smile on his face. It made all those late nights worth it.

“You’re welcome.” You choked out. He stood up, walking deeper into his room and placing the collage and paper on, what you presumed to be, his desk. He ran his hand over the gift one more time before saying,

“Damn I miss the field; I haven’t been there in a while.” He walked back over to where you were standing at the table.

“Hey, I have tons of images of the field,” You said, “Did you want to see them?” You asked, holding your camera up.

“Only if you want to.” He answered. You sat back down at the table, Van Gogh to your left, as you turned your Nikon on.

The two of you then spend the next two hours or so flipping through the pictures you had taken of the field, along with some of the students, plants, and other landscapes while talking about whatever came to mind.

You had only noticed how late it had become when Van Gogh pointed it out to you.

“It’s past 10, I don’t want to keep you any longer than necessary.” Van Gogh said while he stood up. You followed suit and let him lead you to the door. “It was really nice having you over, even just for a few hours.”

“Thanks for having me,” You said as you opened the door to leave, “Oh and before I forget,” You said turning back around.

“Wha-” Van Gogh started but quickly stopped when he felt you soft, yet chapped, lips pressed against his forehead.

“Happy birthday, Vincent.” You said quickly, pulling away when he just stood there and turning to leave. You had walked out the door, worried that you had made a mistake, before hearing Van Gogh call out to you.

“Wait!” You quickly turned around and before you had time to think, Van Gogh had pressed a kiss to your cheek. You noticed that he was on his tippy-toes and that fact alone made you smile. He pulled away saying,

“Goodnight, Y/N,” He smiled up at you and the pink-peach color that spread across his face was absolutely beautiful.

“See you tomorrow,” You smiled, turning back around and closing the door to his dorm.

#clone high #clone high van gogh #vincent van gogh #clone high vincent van gogh #van gogh x reader #clone high x reader #thewildsophia writes

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brywrites · 4 years ago

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Little Beautiful

Summary: In which Max’s art exhibit is a gallery of beautiful things, and Spencer Reid finds himself surprised by what it includes. Spencer Reid x Max Brenner

.......

Spencer Reid can name many beautiful things. He can talk in depth about the natural splendor of the Golden Ratio and why humans love symmetry. He can explain the history of the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa, recount the painstaking detail with which the Taj Mahal was built. He’s seen desert sunsets and shooting stars and the faces of parents reunited with children they thought they might never see again.

He loves all the great and beautiful things in the world. And nobody quite makes the world look as beautiful as Max does. She’s protective of her art, fiercely private about it, but the glimpses she allows him stun him. Then again, he figures he shouldn’t be surprised. After all, she’s beautiful.

Reid thinks he could never tire of looking at her. Her wide, brown eyes, her long eyelashes, the way her cheeks are painted pink each time he pushes her hair back from her face. Her smile just knocks him out. Her movements are graceful, elegant. And the sight of her bare body in the soft light of his bedroom makes him think that no word in any language could ever even hope to come close to describing this sort of perfection.

Everything about her puts a sunset to shame. Her laugh. The way she makes him smile on the worst days. The softness of her touch when her skin is on his. The warmth of her embrace. The kindness of her heart. There’s no doubt, Maxine Brenner is beautiful, in every sense of the grossly inadequate word.

But beauty has a way of reminding him of his own inadequacies. For all his love of lovely things, Reid knows the word is never one he could hope to claim. His face won’t ever inspire poetry. His hair is, at best, an unruly mess. His stubble is always a little scruffier than he’d like it to be. And while he managed to get physically stronger after Milburn, getting in shape didn’t quite happen. He can hold an unsub on the ground without worry, but he’s absolutely terrified each time he undresses before her.

But he loves her. Which is why when she hands him a flyer that reads, Little Beautiful, he knows he’ll say yes to whatever it is before she even explains.

“I have a confession to make,” Max says. “I didn’t want to tell you sooner because I was afraid I might jinx it, but now that it’s all official – I’m going to have an exhibition at Jolie Laide!” Jolie Laide is one of the District’s most revered contemporary commercial galleries, and Max is understandably over the moon.

“What?” he gasps. “When did this happen? How?”

“There was a call for submissions, and well I’ve been working on this idea for a while and I figured why not give it a shot? Spencer, they loved it! They actually loved my art!” she says, and the little hop of joy in her step makes him want to kiss her right there in the middle of the street. Is she even aware of how adorable she is?

“That’s incredible. I mean, I’m not surprised. Everything you do is incredible. But what’s the title mean?” he asks, pointing at the flyer.

“It’s a Van Gogh reference,” she says, and he smiles. Of course it is. The Dutch master will always have a spot in her heart, and in the small “Starry Night” tattoo on her inner arm. “Find things beautiful as much as you can,” she recites. “Most people find too little beautiful.”

She takes his hand in hers. Her hands are small and dainty. He could almost close his fingers around hers completely. It makes him think he must look so strange beside her, a mess of lanky limbs.

“I know that big parties aren’t really your scene,” Max says. “But the opening night is kind of a big deal and it would really mean a lot to me if you came.”

“Are you kidding me?” he laughs. They turn down the street to his apartment. “You’re my girlfriend. We’ve been dating for five months, three weeks, and five days. Of course I’m going to be there.”

“Well good. And tell your friends! The more the merrier. I think you’re really gonna like it,” she adds, with that mischievous sparkle in her eyes that makes his stomach flip.

“If you made it, I know I’ll love it.” Deciding the doorstep of his building is close enough, he leans down to kiss her.

Two weeks later, he finds himself standing in the lobby of Jolie Laide with the rest of his team. Many of them have decided to make a date night of the event, as it’s not often profilers have the excuse to attend a formal event. Reid shifts nervously from foot to foot as they wait for the doors to open. Somehow he still feels out of place in nice suit, wearing the “Starry Night” tie she bought him at a work trip she took to the MoMA. Everyone here looks so beautiful, and he feels like he’s playing dress up, like they’ll all be able to tell he doesn’t belong in a place like this. He’s all too aware of the way he hasn’t managed to tame his hair, of the way his shirt fits a little tighter than it used to, of the way the people around him exude an air effortless cool that he could never hope to.

To ease his mind, he takes comfort in counting the people waiting. They’re all here for Max, for the beautiful things she makes. The last time he was at a gallery opening like this he was standing in a sweater vest next to Gideon who was flirting with the artist while Reid tried not to stare too much at Lila Archer. The memory makes him want to laugh – how infatuated he felt at that time with her. And now with Max, he can’t imagine thinking such a feeling was love. It’s so different than the consuming warmth he feels when he’s with her, the way hearing her voice can bring him back down to earth when his mind moves too quickly, the way he he’s always hated touch but never seems to mind when it’s her. Rather he craves the feeling of her hand in his, her arms around him, her lips on his skin. He’s in love with her, and he’s in deep.

The clock strikes seven and the doors are opened. They step into the bright white gallery space. The moment he’s inside, he is in awe. He recognizes Max’s work immediately, and it’s everywhere. There are large canvas paintings of small objects that take up so much space. There are paintings that must be zoomed in, hyper-focused views of much bigger objects. And it’s all beautiful. Max’s work has the same mastery over colors as the Impressionists, but with contemporary details and precision. Her paintings don’t just look like something, they feel like something. There is a series of pieces of stunningly detailed school supplies – a crayon, a yellow pencil, a bottle of glue. They seem to reflect light, possessing colors far too rich for items so simple.

Max has made them lovely with her gaze, with her hands.

In one painting, a vibrant sunset is seen through a small window. In another, the trunk of a tree is made to look so close that the leaves the viewer stares up at are but a golden blur. Fruit, a butterfly’s wing, and a flower are made into a kaleidoscope of colors. He catches glimpses of familiar faces in portraits – her sister Michelle’s eye, her father’s hand, identifiable by his watch, holding a baseball with vibrant red stitching.

“Wow,” Simmons says, standing beside him. “This is amazing. I mean, I don’t always get art, you know? But damn. Max is talented.”

“She sure is,” Reid says. But he’s only half listening, because he’s taken in by it, by all of it. This is the world through Max’s eyes. All these little details, all the little beautiful things that she sees. And she has reflected them back to the world in a way that takes his breath away.

The unfamiliar voice of an man calls the gallery to attention through a microphone, and Reid makes his way back towards the entrance where all the guests are slowly gathering.

“I now have the pleasure of introducing tonight’s guest of honor, Maxine Brenner,” a man with tiny wire-rimmed classes says.

Reid joins the crowd, falling into place beside Garcia and JJ just in time to see Max walk over in a white lace dress. She is utterly radiant, resplendent. His heart quickens at the sight of her. She takes the microphone and thanks the man with a dazzling smile. “Thank you all for being here,” she says. “It’s truly an honor to share this night with you, and I’m thankful to Jolie Laide for the opportunity to do so. It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that Van Gogh is my favorite artist. He once said, find things beautiful as much as you can. Most people find too little beautiful. The concept for this exhibit was to find all the beautiful things that we overlook. I wanted to pay attention to their little details and find new ways to show the world what beautiful is and what it could be. Every painting is of something I’ve found lovely – whether it’s a natural phenomenon seen through a new lens or an everyday object that just needs someone to notice it or a person–”

She pauses and her gaze moves over the crowd until she spots him. And that mischievous glimmer returns to her eyes. “– who doesn’t realize how beautiful they are. I hope that tonight helps you all to see the beauty around you and in yourselves, and maybe encourages you to see things a little differently, and to find the world a little more beautiful.” As she bows, the room bursts into applause and he swells with pride. This is her moment, and she’s beaming, and he couldn’t be more happy for her.

He wants to go up and hug her, but a swarm of admirers immediately descends upon her with enthusiastic questions and curious remarks. This is her night. He knows that when she wants to talk to him, she’ll let him know. For now, he’ll let these strangers have their moment with her – he can have all of the time in the world with her. The team opts to take a break to help themselves to the refreshment table and Emily offers to grab him a drink, but he politely refuses. He wants to keep walking around.

He can’t help but smile as he does so, hearing the praise and wonder in the words of the other guests. Yes, he wants to tell them. Yes, she’s that talented. Yes, she notices things nobody else does. And she’s hilarious and generous and gorgeous and somehow, somehow I am hers. But how unsightly it would be of him, in his suit and crooked tie, with his messy hair and off-balance gait to interrupt these strangers reveling at the beauty before them. So he stays quiet, happy just to be here. Happy to have the privilege to even witness such beauty.

When he turns the corner, he’s grateful he declined that drink because if there were a glass in his hand, he surely would have dropped it. Many of Max’s pieces are gathered on walls or in corners in groups based on themes or subjects. And in this particular nook, he finds himself uncomfortably familiar with the face staring back at him from one of them. The same face he has stared down in the mirror a thousand times.

It strikes him – Max has painted him. Reid steps closer and realizes it’s not just one painting. The whole wall is him. There is a painting of just one honey-colored eye, gazing down. A hand on the spine of a book. His lips, slightly parted, just a little uneven. His shoulders and collarbone, the slope of his neck and the curve of his chin, a few wild curls visible in the narrow view of the painting. And two portraits where his face is fully visible.

The brushstrokes are so careful, the colors so soft. She paints him in curves and edges and tiny hints of unexpected hues. She paints him with such detail, as though she has tried to memorize every inch of him. She has painted him beautiful.

And for a thirty-six seconds he can’t breathe. He just stares. Because this is how she sees him. And she’s put it on display for all the world to see.

“There’s a level of precision in these that I didn’t see in the other portraits,” an older woman says to a young woman beside her. “I can’t explain it, but it somehow feels like they were more… lovingly painted.”

“Like she knew exactly how they should feel,” her companion agrees.

“The subject has such a striking jawline,” a man says to the woman holding his hand. “And I like the way she painted his hair. Every curl is so careful.”

“It’s really beautiful,” she says, pointing to one of the portraits. Max has painted him smiling, gazing upwards, and he isn’t even sure if he’s capable of looking that way. “I think this one might be my favorite overall.” When they step aside, he can read the small placard on the wall naming the paintings. It reads, “And if I asked you to name all the things you love, how long would it take for you to name yourself?” Series. Oil on canvas. 2020.

Reid swallows hard, past the lump of emotions lodged in his throat, and turns quickly to walk to another corner of the gallery, both to avoid recognition and because if he keeps looking he thinks he might cry. But when he turns, she’s standing right there. Looking up at him through her long lashes, her graceful hands clasped in front of her as she waits in that lovely lace dress.

“Do you like it?” she asks him, nodding at the corner.

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Why did you paint me?”

Max smiles. “I told you, Magic Man, I wanted to paint pretty things.”

He shakes his head. “But I’m not – I mean, look at me, I’m–”

“I am looking.” She reaches up to brush her fingers against his cheek, having to stand on her toes even in heels to do so. “And you are beautiful. My beautiful. I wanted to show you the way I see you. Because of all the beautiful things, none of them make me feel quite like you do.”

Max takes his hand and walks up to the paintings. She says nothing, just waits as he looks at them close up, unafraid of someone realizing he’s looking at himself. He stares at the light and shadows created by her paintbrush. The bright colors that draw attention over painted skin. The soft gaze, the eyes that seem to look so alive. Stray freckles, flecks of tan and gold. It feels so astonishingly intimate. There’s no denying that her work is remarkable. It is beautiful.

And this is how she sees him. Worthy of that sort of attention. Capable of bringing those kinds of colors to life. And when he faces her, he realizes – the painting with the smile. He does look that way. He can feel the movement of the muscles in his face forming a near mirror image as he realizes he only ever looks that way at her.

“Thank you,” he says. Max pulls him down to kiss him, her lips so sweet, and it feels beautiful. He thinks that if they were not here, surrounded by other people, that he would love nothing more than to avail her of that beautiful dress and paint patterns of her skin with his fingertips, give every inch of her the same level of attention with his lips that she did with her paints, and whisper over and over to her just how lovely he finds her.

But they’re not alone, not yet. “Well I’ll be damned,” Morgan says. All of his friends are there, having discovered this nook of the gallery. “Look at that! She somehow managed to make you look even prettier than usual, Pretty Boy.” Reid flushes crimson as they praise Max’s work. She joins them to walk around the rest of the gallery, her hand in his, and from time to time he swears he can see someone staring at the two of them, and he knows they recognize his face. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how the rest of the world looks at him, so long as he knows the way he looks through her eyes. For the first time, he can see himself the way she sees him. As he is, not as he fears he is.

Somehow, this has become his life. Walking through a gallery of paintings made by his favorite person, while she gazes at him like he’s her only muse, telling him that he belongs among lovely things. Somehow believing it all. Somehow at home surrounded by strangers and a few of the people he trusts most. This is his life. And what a beautiful life it is.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x max #spencer reid x max brenner #max brenner #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds #fanfiction #imagine #little beautiful #brywrites

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kaeyas-beloved · 4 years ago

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Right To Her Side {Theo x MC/Reader} [Fluff Day]

Summary: Even after years of separation, a good boy named King recognized the smell of Theo’s other Hondje.

Warning(s): None! (Well, technically there’s a tad bit of angst... but it gets fluffy at the end I promise)

Note: This idea slapped me across the face so hard and unexpectedly that I dropped everything just to write the overall idea (because I’m forbidding myself to lose this).

Also, for the sake of this one-shot, King has an extended life too.

Note a few days after initial idea: Might as well turn this into a piece for the Theo Countdown Party. If anything, it aligns nicely with a day that I don’t have a work for a different writing challenge I’m doing (that would be day 5 of Creatober 2020)

~~~

The constant tug of King’s leash kept Theo on his toes, the golden retriever much more hyper on his walk today compared to any other. Leaves of many colours crunched beneath them as they strolled through the streets of 21st century Paris, the sights and sounds both different and similar to the old, 19th century version they were so use to.

As of right now he has everything he could ever wish for, his older brother, Vincent, his not-friend friend Arthur and his job as an art dealer. To most, it was a win-win all around the table when you have family, friends and a job.

Except it wasn’t, far from it actually. Theo didn’t have her - the dumb knabbeltje that stole his heart forever ago and yet still decided to part from his side.

In retrospect, he had no one to blame but himself. If he wanted her to stay he should’ve admitted the feelings that had blossomed during that singular month with her, it would’ve given her a reason not go through that damn time traveling door.

So why the hell didn’t he? Was he actually afraid of rejection?

Another yank from the dog at his hip, his tail wagging happily as he tried to run through a nearby park. Deep sea blue eyes trailed the path his dog wanted to go.

Discovering that it was the usual path that his pup always took when they walked on this road, Theo idly followed King. Without fail the golden retriever always brought him to the entrance of a famous museum - Le Louvre. He never did understand why King came to this particular spot, sniffed and then whined, apparently not finding what he was looking for.

In all honestly Theo would love to browse fine art with his lovable companion, yet unfortunately the museum denied entry to pets.

Sighing deeply the Dutch man crouches to the ground, scratching behind King’s floppy ear.

“Sorry boy, you can’t go in there” the dog tilted it’s head, tongue lolling out before unexpectedly making a beeline for the entrance, knocking Theo to the ground and allowing the leash to slip from his grasp.

Scrambling to his knees, the vampire was just able to witness King rush into the building before disappearing.

“Ah shit...”

Inside, the atmosphere was quiet and calm, like it always is. Many leisurely walked around, stopping whenever a particular art piece caught their eye.

For her though, the painting she gazed at wasn’t because of what it looked like but rather who painted it. Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci.

The Italian man’s name alone opened a whole casket of memories from a few years prior. The time she spent with some of histories greatest figures, where a bond quickly turned from nothing to gold.

Especially with him.

Theodorus van Gogh. He had a larger part of her heart occupied, something more than any of the others would ever get a glimpse of. The rare kindness he showed his friends, the unexpected sweet tooth he possessed (which honestly could border on unhealthy sometimes), the roundabout way he complimented those around him.

And his smile. Oh his smile could melt the coldest of hearts and was even rarer than his kindness. Not his usual, devilish smirk, no, a genuine smile. Something only she got to see the night before she left.

“I’m gonna miss you Hondje”

All these qualities of his left her heart thundering loudly.

“I miss you Theo, every bit of you...” she muttered, intending to hold onto every precious moment she'd shared with him for the rest of her life.

The watch she wore read 5:45PM and she turned to leave the museum, ready to go home for the evening. No doubt will she visit this place tomorrow, the sentiment behind the location strong enough to come back again.

Just as she made it out of the museum the sound of rushing steps bounding towards her caught her attention, a furry friend jumping up and down and barking loudly at her feet in the next second, the owner not far behind.

“Down boy!” he commanded, grabbing hold of the dog’s collar, pulling him down. Swallowing some much needed air, Theo looked up with the intent to apologize for the sudden attack on them when every word died in his throat.

Her name uttered from his lips breathlessly, and her eyes widened, realizing who it was.

“Is it really you Hondje?” he asked, hand coming up to cup her cheek, his touch the most gentle it has ever been. Was he truly able to see her again after centuries of waiting?

“Yeah... yeah it’s me...” she smiled, placing a hand on his chest and another over his larger one.

For the next few heart racing moments the two simply stared into each other’s eyes, it being the only thing they could bring themselves to do, too stunned at the reality right in front of them.

Neither knew who started to inch closer first, perhaps it was a mutual move. Still, the fact stood that after so long their feelings for each other were finally being shown through a slow, passion filled kiss.

Let this be real... please... It was their desperate plea to any god that would listen.

When the need for air grew hard to resist, the pair parted, panting slightly. Bringing his free arm around her waist, Theo tugged the woman of his dreams closer, leaning his forehead against her’s.

“Never leave my side again, got it Hondje?” Despite the underlying harshness in his tone, his eyes portrayed a whole different, stronger, emotion. Love.

“I promise Theo”

Two simple words with the sound of his name and that soft smile he revealed to her before appeared again.

And it certainly wasn’t going to be for the last time as long as he stayed with her, something he planned to do until the day he died.

I hope you enjoyed this! First time writing Theo and I don’t think I did too bad!

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