#i usually don’t like how my landscape pictures look but i love how these came out

[dykewolverine]

withlacoochee state forest, 3/10/24

[blogfullofemos]

Miguel on Supportive Husband Duties

Okay, me 🤝 lactation kink and Miguel O'Hara breathing the same air. This man has every right to be a Daddy in me 😲 (I meant to write in my eyes but as you can see, the mind never lies at night). But enough about me, enjoy this depravity of mind. It's really not THAT filthy. Also give your girl some feedback, let me know how you truly feel lmaoo.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Summary: A heated debate becomes the prime example of what not to do when you're expecting.

Warnings: Lactation, a lot of descriptive words to explain how lactation works, oral fixation on it.

Word Count: 1836

Enjoy you filthy scalawags. I love it though. 😈

   Miguel sat back with crossed arms as he watches the scene play out before him. Calling, for yet another, group meeting to better the team on catching anomalies. Something he much rather have done himself. “But Miguel you have to see the broader picture....”, “Miguel just hear me out…”, “Miggyy can you just give it a chance…” your voice echoes within his tension headache. Intentionally staring at you from across the table while you were deep in the throes of passionate word spar about tree branches with the group. He wondered why you were getting so aggravated by such a small thing that Peter, of all people, would bring up. Putting all the spiders in the room (Jessica, Gwen, you, Hobie, Pavitr, and Peter) into a whirlpool of sassy remarks and quick rebuttals. Even Mayday had her say in it; loudly babbling and blowing wet raspberries as she sat on the middle of the table. 

    He silently seethed in annoyance as he continued to observe. Jessica, Gwen, Hobie, and Pavitr in one ring. You and Peter in the other. Mayday just being her usual chaotic evil to even out the playing the field. He saw as your face slowly redden and eyes watered over time, constantly having to adjust something about yourself while you tried to catch your bearings. Miguel’s brow rose at your odd composure, “ALRIGHT, EVERYONE CALLATE!!” he roars slamming his hands on the table while lurching forward. He did it on your behalf, not too sure if you were becoming too uncomfortable by the situation. But he could definitely tell you were overwhelmed. Shockingly everybody’s incessant yelling dwindled down into sly laughs and a few sucking of the teeth. Mayday just simply turning her back to him. “NOW LET’S FOCUS ON SOMETHING MORE IMPORTANT!! LIKE CATCHING ANOMALIES!! THE REASON THAT WE CAME FOR!!” he continues to yell, as his hands gave a theatrical display to his words.

    Miguel sits back down and sighs in relief, “Now I know tree branches be whacking us off our game, but it just shows that we need to be more vigilant.” He says pinching the bridge of his nose. Albeit he lost a few anomalies because of those hellish whips of leaves, its why he much prefers a city landscape. Like mostly all the spiders do. “It’s all about timing and-.”. Jessica clears her throat.

“The velocity of the swing guys. I don’t have it fully down myself, but I’ve gotten better. Now to the anomalies.”

“Uh Mig-.”

“Shut. Up. Peter. The anomalies are only getting stronger and wiser. Wiser. That’s what-.”

“MIG!!” Mayday babbles clear enough to shock Miguel out of his technical rant. Stopping him from massaging his nose to ease the tension headache still beating at his temples. He looks at Mayday, who’s now in her dad’s arms, and points at you with furrowed brows. Making everyone’s eyes slowly travel from her to you, as you bring your eyes down to where she was pointing. Two apparent dark spots rest on your green shirt, making you and Miguel realize the reason why Mayday tried to say her first ever word. In seconds you stood up and covered your chest, your face turning back a brighter shade of red as you rushed out a “I need to go to the bathroom.”, before awkwardly stumbling away from your seat and running out the door. “Now Mayday, what did I say about pointing.” Peter says as Miguel gets off his seat to follow behind your trails.

     As he enters his private bathroom, he can hear your sniffles bounce from the walls. It didn’t take him long to see you wiping your eyes with tissues as you looked at yourself in the mirror. “This is so embarrassing!” you sob, throwing the tissue into the sink. 

“It’s only natural bebita.” he goes behind you and rests his chin on your head looking at you through the reflection; “S’nothing to beat yourself up over.” He finishes as he wraps his arms around you. But before he could fully pull you into an embrace, you hiss and push his arms away instantly making him drop them. You whine as you spin to rest your head on his chest, “It hurts Miguel.” You inform him quietly as he brushes the back of your head. Miguel closes his eyes as he racks his brain from jumbled lewd thoughts to more empathetic solutions. Giving the top of your head a peck, he simply states “Take off your shirt.”. You look up at him with watery doe-full eyes, making every state of his being fight to stay as innocent and professional as ever. He gives you a reassuring smirk before giving you a peck to your lips, “Trust me carino.” He soothes.

   You move away from him once more to take off your shirt, following your now soaked bra. Exposing your full breasts before him, and god did it awaken the urge he always had for you. You sniffled as you wiped your eyes with your hands, slowly calming down knowing it’s just you two. Miguel looks at you “You okay?” he asks touching base once more.

“Yeah.”. Miguel looks at your heavy breast, seeing as your veins became more apparent under your skin. This wasn’t his first rodeo helping his lover through the milestones of childbearing, but he could tell it was yours. “Alright bebita, so all you have to do is massage your breasts.” he instructs, keeping his distance between you two. He didn’t want to fully take charge of the situation, not knowing if it would make you uncomfortable and also wanting you to learn by your own. So he just decided to guide you. You place your hands on your breasts and make a stuttered side to side motion, “Like this?” you say looking at yourself. Miguel bites his bottom lip as he shakes his head, with an unapproving hum. The size difference between your hands and breasts just so treacherously sinful that his cock has something to say about it. “More of a circular motion around your areola, and you must make sure you apply enough pressure to help the milk flow out. As you do try to pinch your nipple throughout the process.” he instructs.

    “Okay.” you affirm, trying to find your rhythm with the session. After a few minutes of you focusing on yourself, Miguel quickly sees your frustrations build up as only small spurts left your swell mounds. In seconds you let out an exasperated sigh as you throw your hands down, “Miguel don’t just stand there!! Help me!!” you yell and that’s all he needed to hear. In seconds his broad hands takes a firm hold of your breasts, making you let out a quiet “Oh.” As you move back. The bathroom sink stopping your in an instant, “Watch me carino.” He coos, making your cheeks flare with unabashed lust. You loved when his voice instinctually sung to you, warm and enticing. “Yeah okay.” you say breathless, looking down at your hand covered breasts. You watch as Miguel meticulously massaged your breasts with a firm circular motion, hissing as you grip the edge of the sink. “I know bebita. It only hurts the first few times you do it, promise.” He says lovingly. After a few more moments, your milk starts flowing freely easing your pain drip by drip. You throw your head back as you close your eyes, breathing out in content, lavishing at the feel. As you bring your head back, you look up at Miguel and smile. Flashing reddish/brown eyes looking back at you with shaky restraint, “You’re making a mess bebita.” He taunts as his hands deepen the massage. You bite your bottom lip, stifling a moan “Yeah… W-well where else is the milk going to go?” you quip. Suddenly you watch as his eyes stay its reddish hue as he pinches one of your nipples to go at even level to the other.

    “Where it truly belongs.” he coos once more, before wrapping his lips around your budding nipple. In an instant your washed with an intense feeling of overwhelm as you feel him suckle you. Your legs trembling to stay still while you take hold of his head. You throw your head back again, unable to watch the man you love before you drink your milk with such fervor. You moan as you feel his teeth slightly pinch while his tongue prodded and lapped at your nipple. Hearing him audibly take in every gulp. As he finished his job on that breast, he popped his mouth off and you looked back to him. His hair becoming a sweaty mess as his dress pants were making his desires more apparent to you. His eyes lull like he’s already milk drunk. If only you knew how drunk he was on the prospect of fucking you right on the bathroom sink. Nice and quick, but he didn’t want to ruin anymore of your clothes. Evening out his breaths he looks at you, “Last one.” He says with a smirk. Suddenly you watch as Miguel licks the milk from the back of his hand before latching onto you again. Your body naturally rutting out for some friction as the lewd display ignited the dam to crack within you. You try to look away and distract yourself with something in the space, but Miguel pops off and tells you “Keep your eyes on me bebita.”. And you obey, god do you obey when you see him kneel in front of you. He nips your nipple making you hiss and tug his hair, earning a roll of his eyes and a grunt as he drank. You realize his other free hand is now between his legs, squeezing himself when he gets too flustered. 

      He lets milk seep out the corners of his mouth, making you thoughtlessly say “I want a taste.”. He moans as he squeezes himself again, his cock aching treat his baby right. After a few more swallows, he gathers as much milk as he could from your diminishing supply and pops off. In seconds he takes your lips with his in a bruising kiss, making you lean over the sink so the back of your head rest on the mirror. You taste your milk as he swaps it from his mouth to yours and swallow, gripping his shirt sleeve as you feel his hand cup your covered sex. After a few more tongue dances and rubs to your sensitive bundle of nerves, you break the messy make out. “Not here.” You say catching your breath.

“Need you.” Miguel pleads rubbing his head with yours like a cat.

“I know baby.” You give his lips a peck “But we need to get back before they truly suspect what we were doing was right. I’m in their heads enough today.” You conclude pushing him off and away from you.

“Now give me your shirt and lets go end this meeting, if they haven’t gotten the hint yet.”

[siren-141]

Hi hi! Could we do 777 with Simon Riley pretty please!!

With lots of love!!

-Mika🩷🥭

hey there, I'm so sorry that I'm just now getting around to this 😭😭 thank you so much for the request, I loved writing these. it's super late but this one concludes my summer challenge :) enjoy 🖤

warnings: none really lmao. unrequited love that's not actually unrequited. is this considered fluff?? summer sleepover

bad friends – black honey

It had been a long week. It had been raining, dark grey clouds covering the sky for what felt like the whole week, casting a shadow over the base. Everyone was beat down and the energy was low, everyone tucking themselves away in their own spaces. That’s how you wound up running yourself a piping hot bath, with your favorite eucalyptus candle lit in the corner.

Stepping into the tub, you slowly lowered yourself into the water. You could see the steam coming up from the surface past the bubbles, even in the dim light. This was ultimate relaxation for you – something you didn’t often have time for.

It had been about 15 minutes of relaxation, soft music playing in the background. Your eyes were shut, and all the tension was gone from your body.

“You should really lock your door,” a voice called out in your room. You didn’t even bother to open your eyes, knowing that voice from anywhere.

“I could hear your heavy footsteps down the hall, Simon. Not very Ghost-like when it’s 11pm on a night off.”

You smiled to yourself, taking a relaxing deep breath. Nothing about your team startled you – you were too used to them and their ways, that almost nothing would shock you.

Simon closed – and locked – your main door behind him. Walking around the dimly lit room, he took in the atmosphere. He looked around at the fake ivy plant on top of your dresser and the scattered pictures you had hung up of different landscapes and events you’d gone to, studying your space with a piqued interest. He could hear your phone playing in the bathroom, and took note of what kind of music you liked during a time like this.

“Just came in to check on you. Been kind of an off week for everyone, seems like,” he commented, walking further into your room, admiring the small homemade painting you had hanging near your bathroom door. It was a beautiful landscape, with lush grass and crystal blue skies, the sun filtering throughout the painting. Nothing like the usual scenery that your team was used to, no – something peaceful to look at at the end of each night, something to look forward to. He couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

“‘m fine, just figured I’d take advantage of the night off,” you answered him, and completely instinctually, he looked towards the sound of your voice. That was his mistake.

Your voice drowned out and time seemed to slow for him. Your bathroom door was only cracked about four inches open, but those four inches seemed like the cracked gates of heaven. He looked at you, really looked at you. You laid there in the tub, soap suds covering your body and almost spilling out of the tub, your head leaned back against the shower wall. Your eyes were closed, but you looked utterly at peace. Every expanse of skin that showed through – your shoulder peeking above the tub, your neck that was exposed from your hair being pulled up, the tops of your knees that raised just over the water because the tub was too short, even for you – he committed it all to memory. He could stare at you like this forever: a renaissance painting in his own mind.

“...right?” Time started again at your prompt, and he quickly concentrated on what you had just said. You know you don’t have to check on me, right?

“‘course I do,” he grunted, turning away and shaking his head. “I check on everyone. ‘ts my job.”

Simon Riley, always the caretaker. Ghost might put up a front that he’s ruthless, emotionless, and that he doesn’t care – the first of it true – but Simon was another story. This team relied on trust and empathy for one another, whether it was obvious or not: you couldn’t run if you all hated each other. Each of you had unintentionally carved out a small part of your hearts for one another to fit in, and once you were there, there was next to nothing that could remove it. Simon might have his walls up, armed guards positioned at the top of them ready to shoot at anything that might get too close, but small gestures like this was all that was needed to see that he truly cared.

You sighed, partially from the relaxing scent of your candle drifting your way, and partially from exasperation of the stubborn man in the next room. “You should worry less about us sometimes and focus all that energy on yourself, Si. When was the last time you did something for yourself?”

The question rang in his head and all he could think about was you.

“You’ve gotta start taking care of yourself, big guy.” He sits on your bed, staring at the wall in front of him or looking around the contents of your nightstand – anywhere but through the four-inch crack of your door.

It’s silent for a moment, but it’s a comfortable silence. A few minutes go by, and he can hear the water sloshing around before you pull the drain cover and let the water drain out.

You finally make an appearance. Standing in the doorway, you had finally turned the big light on in your bathroom, having gotten dressed in your night clothes. Combing your hair out with your fingers, you looked at him with your eyebrow raised. His big frame sat on your bed, making it look so small, and you could tell he looked tired.

“I meant what I said, Simon. You deserve to take care of yourself.”

Turning around, you walked back into the bathroom, door now swung all the way open. Simon followed, crossing the small space to lean against the door frame. He was so much bigger than you, head almost hitting the top of the frame and shoulders so wide that he took up almost the entire width. He watched as you went through each bottle of your four-step skincare routine, slathering serum onto your face evenly.

He broke the silence.

“You’re beautiful.”

Of course your mind began to race, heart rate picking up immediately. You’d had feelings for the guy for quite a while now, but what would it do to the team dynamic if anyone acted on it? You couldn’t take the risk. That was the excuse you told yourself – you couldn’t risk the team being awkward. In reality? You’d always just shut off that part of you – the part of your brain that would wonder things like when are you going to find someone and imagine your dream man: why does he look just like Simon and do you really want to be alone or are you just telling yourself that

So you do what you always do when situations similar to this come up – you laugh. You play it casual and you laugh it off.

Smile wide, you don’t miss a beat as you continue to stare in your bathroom mirror, rubbing in the face cream as your third step. “My hair is a mess and I’m slugging my face right now, but okay!”

You try not to think about it, thinking that maybe it was just a late night, thinking that he had forgotten about it just as quickly as he had brought it up. You finished slathering the overnight mask onto your face, washed your hands, and as you turn to leave the bathroom without really looking, you bump into him, who didn’t even budge.

His finger gently hooks under your chin, just barely missing the line where your skincare serum starts, and lifts your head.

“I meant what I said,” he holds your eye contact until he can see that you’re fully focused on him now and that your thoughts aren’t racing like they were a minute before. He needs you to be fully present when he talks to you. “You’re beautiful.”

Your breathing is shallow, and you can almost hear your heart beating through your ears; feel the blood pumping a little extra hard throughout your veins. You couldn’t break eye contact right now if you tried – he captivated you, every one of your senses utterly surrounded by him.

He leaned down slowly, bridging the gap between you two, and your eyes closed in nervous anticipation. He was still in that moment, and you could almost feel his lips on yours before he turned his head, pressing a slow and gentle kiss to your cheek. He can hear your small gasp, breath finally finding you again, and he lingers there, eyes closing to remember this moment.

Leaning back, his hand drops back to his side and he looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes that have nothing but yearning in them. “I’d better let you get to sleep. Remember to lock your door.”

Simon crosses the room and hears your small goodnight back to him as he pulls the door shut behind him, waiting silently on the other side until he hears the lock click.

That night, you stayed up for another two hours, feeling utterly lovesick. And this time, it felt good.

[truthdogg]

As I read the post linked below, it reinforced for me just how much media has changed in the past ten to twenty years. The post itself is a great snapshot of what’s required to understand a news story, and it demonstrates why most news media today is simply not working.

I don’t watch tv news, and haven’t for probably a decade. We have a subscription to the New York Times, but the login rarely works for me, and we’ve let our Washington Post subscription lapse. I get my news from a variety of online newspapers, npr, websites, blogs, and podcasts, and usually do an internet search for anything that sounds interesting or that I want to understand better.

This is a pretty terrible way to keep up with things. It takes a lot of time, and it requires a general knowledge of the ideological slant of the news outlet I’m reading. That means I either have to remember or look up who owns the company and who runs their editorial board, which takes up even more time.

I could save a lot of time by going to one source that not only spells out what just happened, but also tells who loses and who gains, what the impacts will be and how to process it, and perhaps even include links to speech transcripts and legislation for us to read on our own. Good newspapers used to do more of that, but they don’t anymore; instead they simply share the latest quotes about the subject at hand. (“He said this thing, she said a different thing, so you decide for yourself who’s telling the truth. What is truth, anyway?”) So now we need to piece full stories together from multiple sources, just like tumblr user @yiffmaster does above.

It takes a genuine interest in what you’re reading to spend the necessary time that on that. Otherwise all you’ll see are stories about how there’s a new hire at NLRB from SEIU and that upset somebody, or something about the Joy Silk doctrine that makes no sense on its own, or (most likely) that Biden spoke to a worker or two on a picket line somewhere but so did Donald Trump so both parties claim to support workers. It’s all meaningless individual trees standing on their own until you can step back, study, and see the forest.

That’s not to say we never get important dot-connecting well-researched articles. We absolutely do, and there are still plenty of amazing hardworking journalists, but the landscape is so fragmented that it’s hard to know where those articles will come from, whether they can be trusted, or often even how to find or access them. Often they don’t even have dates, so it’s hard to know just how outdated the information even is.

I would love to find a news source that organized its articles by topic and provided outside links. Every story could provide links to relevant info and source material, instead of offhand references. But such a broad news site doesn’t really exist among the sources I read. (TPM might get closest at times, but it’s a tiny company.) instead, an article gets published, it’s out of date a week later, and it remains the top search result for its subject matter for weeks, months or years. Try looking up what the Biden administration did to help rail workers after they went back to work at the start of December 2022, to see what I mean. It’s possible, but you have to already know what you’re looking for. Otherwise all you can find is that they let workers down by forcing them back to work, which isn’t remotely the whole story—what came after that was a very big deal.

But there’s a workaround to all of this that a lot of Americans use to feel they have the full picture. It’s a cable network that does connect all the dots. It ties stories back into an overarching narrative, and explains to viewers how each news story reinforces its narrative. Its viewers tune in for that narrative; they know who is blocking the programs they’re told are good or bad, and who supports the other ones. It’s called FOX News of course, and it’s complete garbage propaganda. It’s also genius in how it works.

There is no good way to deprogram a FOX viewer who’s sucked in, because there is simply no alternative that fully describes the stories that they follow. They’re in an alternative universe of facts that have bits of the real world thrown in for color. The stories that multiple reliable sources do provide cannot counter that narrative on their own, because they simply don’t explain enough. If anything they have the opposite effect, because the FOX viewer is arriving with a set narrative in their mind, and the small story that simply presents arguments with no conclusions will include the argument they’re familiar with. For them to come out of that well of ignorance will require research into multiple sources that they’re simply not going to ever do.

A liberal propaganda outlet to counter it is more than useless—most people who lean left find those annoying and and no one on the right would believe a word of it.

No, what we need is news for today to be organized completely differently, almost like a current events Wikipedia. Publishing a newspaper or making a newscast and sticking them online is borderline ridiculous. They’re only snapshots in time, and without a tree of links to accompany them—perhaps via a link back to a topic main page where that tree of links resides—they often become misinformation fairly quickly.

Many news outlets have taken some baby steps toward something like this, but only with major stories (“Follow our impeachment coverage here!”), and only with their own articles. This relegates other important news (like what the Biden Admin is doing with labor) to a lesser status and keeps these outlets as news gatekeepers, and it undermines their own credibility among doubters by presenting yet another closed system.

We need news sources that are much more comprehensive and committed to providing a full picture if we ever hope to undo the damage and division that propaganda is creating here. I’d love to know if any of you have found such a thing. I haven’t.

[dansnaturepictures]

3rd December 2022-Blackwater in the New Forest

I had a great walk here today seeing some lovely birds and mammals. A Buzzard gliding through the trees was a breathtaking sight, and Robin, many Blackbirds and Coal Tit were standout sightings too. Hearing Blackbirds and Wren call and seeing a couple of Robins well as we walked into the darkness going back to the car park late on was a good immersive natural moment. I also saw Carrion Crow, Woodpigeon, Blue Tit and possible Goldcrest. Grey Squirrels which I’m on a good run for seeing were nice to see a few times on the walk, with Fallow Deers seen possibly a couple of times including at the same time as I saw the Buzzard flying and I didn’t know what to look at. An animal I love.

I am in a lucky position with my bird year list having made it my highest ever back on 5th November seeing the Black Redstarts at Southsea with two months to spare and anything I see for the first time this year now is a bonus in one of my best ever years for birdwatching. There is one particularly notable omission from my year list currently, my bogey bird (something I light heartedly award to a bird species each year that I normally see without too much trouble but don’t see for a while) the Hawfinch which I’ve mostly seen at Blackwater over the years especially the arboretum where they come into roost. It was with the hope of seeing one I came here today and didn’t. We shall certainly try to allow me to see one when we can get chances the rest of the month but I reflected when out today how all of my highest year lists have notable birds I didn’t see that year I might usually and there is something so healthy about that of always having something to aim for which I love about my hobby and each year being different. I’ve always managed to go onto see my bogey bird in the year so it will be interesting to see if I do but I’ve still had an incredible year if I don’t.

Bits of yellow in flower gorse, bracken mixed well with it, nice heather in the arboretum and rhododendron leaves made nice plant sightings on the walk, with lichen and moss seen well on the walk and some sweet little mushrooms seen in the arboretum too. I took the seventh and eighth pictures in this photoset of the latter, the interesting shaped one with the moss in the eighth picture may be chanterelle possibly golden chanterelle not one I’d seen before. It was good to see the ones in the seventh huddled together looking nice in grass with fallen leaves on the ground. 

I liked seeing autumnal hues in the trees especially red/brown colours and bright yellow bitches still on the walk. The imposing tall pines, conifers and other trees with many bare too on a moody December afternoon were inspiring to see on a smashing walk round on the snaking paths. It is common now that I will go off on my own for a big walk at a place we all go at the weekend rather than going around with my Mum and our dog Missy now fourteen years old as she is struggling with mobility due to arthritis, and found today alone in this landscape it was a nice release to notice feeling quite insignificant down below in a nice way beneath the famous tall trees of this walk. There were pretty sky scenes today too. I took the the first six pictures in this photoset of views at Blackwater today. 

It was a good time for seeing wildlife at home before coming out and things on the way out today, with Robin as the tenth and final picture in this photoset shows, Goldfinches as the ninth picture in this set shows, Starling, House Sparrow and Blue Tit seen nicely feeding in the back garden a great bit of colour brought to an overcast morning and the Dunnock flying up from in the front garden I’d not seen it in the afternoon yet only early morning so this was nice. I had a good day for Blackbird and Robin. On the way spurge, some red and orange firethorn berries I believe poking quirkily out of a fence of a garden we always pass, a handful of Cormorants on pylons by the motorway by Broadlands, apples by the motorway nearby and cute Roe Deers in a New Forest field were nice to see. I liked seeing a spider in a crack in the hallway again tonight and a fly possibly wrapped up in a spider web. 

[haydennorthrup]

🇯🇵 DAY TEN 🇯🇵

Day ten was loaded with some amazing views and ended with a very interesting dinner (to say the least). The first two destinations were Sanjusangendo and Kiyomizudera which were much different than each other.

I remember seeing a picture of Sanjusangendo when researching Japan and being so excited to see it on the trip, but I forgot the name and was surprised when we arrived. The big temple with the 1,001 Kannon statues wasn’t the most appealing from the outside, but the numerous ponds and greenery outside made up for it.

As soon as we stepped inside the Buddhist temple our jaws dropped. Just like most other things on this trip, I’ve never seen anything like it. The rows of nearly identical statues were breathtaking and had me wondering how they were all made. I was unable to read any information at the temple, so I ran to the good ole’ internet. I initially thought that the statues had to of been made using a mold even though they are wooden and that they were all too perfect to be crafted separately. Turns out I was wrong and that they WERE sculpted separately. This discovery gave me an ever deeper appreciation for the temple and the statues. In a modern world I doubt that art like this would ever be replicated. We’re too worried about time consumption and time was very much needed to complete these 1,001 statues. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to capture any pictures of the statues since photography was prohibited, but I did get a different memorable picture. A group of school kids came up to me and a few another friends on the trip, and asked to take a picture with me. Of course I couldn’t deny, and had to take a picture of my own to capture the moment.

We then headed to Kiyomizudera Temple, which was another magnificent location. The huge area held some of the most gorgeous temples and pagodas, along with a great look out of Kyoto.

I quickly got separated from the group, so I decided to take my time and explore on my own. No matter where you looked you were surrounded by an amazing landscape. As you made it down the mountain, there was a purification site that has water said to enhance health, longevity, and success in studies. Due to the long line I unfortunately was unable to participate in the purification, but I enjoyed watching as people lined up and used the long ladles to catch water from the Otowa-no-taki waterfall.

As soon as I turned the corner to pass the purification site, I was met with a shaved ice shack. Although the building had traditional characteristics, a very modern treat was being served. I’m all for shaved ice and cold treats, and was glad that the building didn’t stand out like a sore thumb. If the building were a bright color with LED lights advertising shaved ice, I could see modernity taking over in a negative way. I believe as long as we don’t let things like that happen, the traditional feel of these locations won’t be affected. Having a good balance between tradition and modernity is important to preserve historical locations like these.

That night, six of us attended a traditional kaiseki meal in Kyoto where the meal originated. While I wasn’t too fond of the food, the dinner was an amazing experience. Being able to bond over the food and watch each other try foods we wouldn’t usually eat, brought the group closer together. At the end, we briefly discussed how modernity impacted such a traditional meal. Although it’s a small change, one thing about our meal was different than the traditional kaiseki meal. We were given ice cream and fruit at the end, which isn’t usually a part of the meal. I can see how this small difference might confuse older generations, but for the younger generations like us, we loved the ice cream.

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 28: Can’t Get To Sleep

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Words: 754

Warnings: implied sex but thats it

A/N: its somft bitch hours

You were tired, exhausted really. Work had been extra busy and the time you had at home was interrupted by tradesmen that Roger had hired to landscape the back yard and revamp the second bathroom. And that wasn’t even mentioning the regular daily minutiae that you had to deal with. Roger shared all the chores of course but his job was hardly strenuous since they were between tours, and he had more time at home than you did. It was no wonder that you were completely drained by the end of the week while he seemed as chipper as usual. But Roger did notice your state. After dinner he pulled you into a cuddle on the couch, encouraging you to just relax. And then, when TV got boring, he sent you up to bed early with a sweet kiss.  

You headed up to bed gratefully, looking forward to finally getting some sleep. But when Roger came up himself over an hour later, you were still awake. You felt tired and like you should have dropped off easily but for some reason sleep had not come. You’d tried just closing your eyes and waiting but you’d ended up just lying there in the dark, which was relaxing to some extent but not in the way you wanted. You mostly just ended up thinking about work. So, when you heard Roger carefully opening the bedroom door you hoped that his presence beside you would help you actually get to sleep. When he’d settled under the covers you wriggled closer so you could bury your nose in his neck, and prepared to finally sleep.  

It was nice for a while but when Roger began to snore you rolled back to your side of the bed, groaning in frustration. For a moment you just pondered your problem. It seemed that, as tired as your body felt, your mind had not yet switched off. But you figured that you could wear it out a little by counting sheep. So you rolled over and began trying to list every character from your favourite tv series. When you were certain you’d completed the list you moved on to trying to list every track off your favourite album. At the end of that you were no closer to sleep so decided it wasn’t helping. Instead you got up, taking your book off the nightstand. After a short detour to the kitchen to make a warm milk, you settled into one of the lounge chairs and turned on the lamp to read until you felt your brain had been exhausted. It went well, after a little over a chapter you could feel your eyes drooping and it became harder to focus on the words. You pushed it a little longer before taking your mug back to the kitchen and settling back into bed. And yet, as soon as you were laying in the dark room, you seemed as far from sleep as possible. With a frustrated huff you tried to get comfortable, tossing and turning, until you heard a voice rough with sleep. “Y/N?” he mumbled, “what times it?” “Late. Go back to sleep Rog.”   Roger shifted onto his side to face you, cuddling up to your side as you stared up at the ceiling. His hand came up to your sternum and he began rubbing soft circles with his palm which didn’t really help but felt kind of nice.   “You slept at all?” “No.” “Aw love.” “I don’t understand Rog, I feel so tired, why can’t I sleep?” Roger was quiet for a moment, his moving hand the only sign he hadn’t gone back to sleep. When he next spoke, he sounded a little more awake. “Maybe I can help.” “How? I’ve already tried everything.” “Not everything,” his hand slipped down to squeeze your breast and you could picture the grin he’d be wearing. But it did make you laugh, “Alright.” “Yeah?” He sat up, sounded more awake than ever. “Hey, I’m willing to try anything at this point. What position?” “He thought about it a moment, “You should be on time. Since we’re trying to tire you out at all. But if you’re still awake after you cum we can try the other way around.” You laughed again, “Trust you to turn my insomnia into a ploy to get my kit off.” He chuckled, “You had to know I would.” “Yeah,” you laughed, already wiggling out of your pants, “just hurry up and get your dick out, I want to sleep.”

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

A/N: hi lovely people! i hope you are all having a great day! drink some water! love you all!

Masterlist

Chapter 13

Spencer got a call from you one morning when he was leaving his apartment to pick Jo up for school.

“Spencer,” your voice sounded deeper than normal.

“I’m sick,” you groaned.

“Aw, I’m sorry. What are your symptoms?” he asked.

“Stuffy nose, fever, headache, and a sore throat,” you sniffled.

“Could you take Jo for the weekend after you pick her up today? I don’t want her getting infected too.”

“Of course, do you need me to get you anything?” he asked.

“No thanks, you’re sweet but I’m fine. Stay away from my room, germaphobe,” you giggled slightly.

“You’re going to have to get Jo all ready for school. I just knocked on her door to wake her up. I didn’t want to take any chances,” you informed him.

“Okay, feel better, sweetheart,” Spencer said.

You made a kissing sound through the phone before hanging up, presumably to go back to bed.

-

Spencer walked inside to find Jo sitting in front of the TV.

“Mommy isn’t coming out of her room,” she stated.

“I know, she’s sick so she is protecting us from all the icky germs. You are going to spend the weekend at Daddy’s place,” he picked Jo up, bringing her into the kitchen and pouring her a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.

“Eat up,” he said, pushing the bowl in front of her after adding milk and a spoon, “then Daddy is going to do your hair before we go.”

While Jo ate, Spencer packed her lunch and wrote a little note:

The word ‘dinosaur’ means ‘terrible lizard’ in Greek. See you later, Princess! Eat all of your cucumber slices!

Love,

Daddy

He sketched a little heart doodle to finish off the note, folding it and slipping it into Jo’s lunch box.

Spencer called Hotch as he was carrying Jo out to the car.

“Hey, Hotch. Can I have the day off?” he asked.

“Sure, Reid. You have plenty of sick days saved up. Is everything alright?”

“Y/N is sick so I’ve got Jo for the weekend and I want to clean up my apartment and do some grocery shopping beforehand,” Spencer explained, the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as he buckled Jo in.

“Alright, see you Monday, Reid. Tell Jo I say hi,” he said.

“Will do,” Spencer hung up the phone.

“Uncle Aaron says hi,” he said to Jo.

“Hi Uncle Aaron!” Jo exclaimed even though the phone call had already ended.

-

After dropping Jo off, Spencer drove to the grocery store.

He picked up some snacks and food to replenish his empty cabinets so Jo wouldn’t starve at his apartment. He was going to attempt to make them spaghetti and meatballs for dinner but he picked up a bag of dino nuggets as a backup.

On the way home to his apartment, he stopped back at your house and walked inside, calling your phone as he set grocery bags down on the kitchen counter.

“Hey, I’m back. I know you said to stay away but I wanted to drop off a few things,” Spencer put the phone on speaker as he began to put away the groceries, “I got you some oranges because their vitamin C will help your immune system. I got you popsicles and ice cream to help with your fever and sore throat. I also got you some more tea and soup. And, I picked up some spring rolls for you that you can reheat whenever you are hungry.”

“You are the best. Thank you, Spence,” you sleepily replied.

“I don’t know what medicine you have been taking so far but after examining the ingredients of different over-the counter medicines in the pharmacy aisle, I found two that I think will work best to fend off your symptoms if taken together,” Spencer said, walking upstairs.

“I’m leaving them both outside your door with a glass of water,” he knelt down to place the pill bottles and water on the ground.

“If I’m up for it later, can I facetime you and Jo?” you asked hopefully.

“I will figure out how to use that just for you,” Spencer smiled.

“Just swipe to accept it like a normal phone call except then I will be able to see both of your beautiful little faces,” you giggled.

“Okay, try to get some rest, drink lots of water, and try to eat something if you can,” Spencer encouraged.

“See you later, Spence.”

-

After spending the rest of the day cleaning his apartment and putting away stacks of books that were on the floor so Jo wouldn’t trip, Spencer went to go pick her up.

“Here, Daddy,” she handed him a purple piece of paper with lots of glitter glue on it as she came running out of the classroom into his awaiting arms.

“Another Jo original?” he beamed, “Is this me, you, and Mommy again?”

Jo nodded, “We need one for your fridge too.”

“How thoughtful,” Spencer lifted the girl up and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“I went back home to check on Mommy and I packed you a bag of clothes and your favorite toys so you should be all set for the weekend but we can go back if we need to,” he explained to Jo as he carried her out to the car.

-

Spencer had managed to make him and Jo spaghetti even though it was just from a box. He even asked Rossi for his meatball recipe and made those from scratch. Jo cleared her plate so she seemed to enjoy the meal or she was just sparing her Daddy’s feelings.

They were watching a National Geographic dinosaur documentary when your contact photo came up on Spencer’s phone screen. It was a picture of you that he had insisted on taking on your date because you “looked too beautiful to not admire forever in photo form”. His phone lockscreen had also been changed from just a generic scenic landscape photo to a picture that Penelope had taken of you, Spencer, and Jo at Rossi’s party.

Spencer held the phone up and swiped accept.

“Hi!” you smiled, waving through the phone, you were still laying in bed.

“Mommy!” Jo exclaimed, standing up on the couch and sitting in Spencer’s lap to see better.

“Hi, Baby J! How is Daddy’s place?” you asked.

“Good! We had spaghetti and meatballs and now we are watching a dinosaur show and Daddy bought oreos,” Jo giggled, holding up a half-eaten cookie with crumbs on her face.

“Wow he’s really spoiling you,” you laughed, “Daddy brought me spring rolls and they are helping me get all better,” you smiled, taking a bite of one of them.

“Glad you are feeling better, sweetheart,” Spencer grinned.

“I’ll give it another day but you and Jo may be able to come back on Sunday after I disinfect everything,” you replied.

“Jo, say bye bye to Mommy so she can finish her dinner and go to bed,” Spencer prompted her.

“Night night, Mommy. Love you,” she waved at the camera, blowing a kiss.

“Bye Jo. Love you too! Be good for Daddy!” you waved back, “Night, Spence.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Spencer smiled, ending the call.

Twenty minutes later, Jo was out cold in Spencer’s lap, cuddled into his chest. Spencer smiled softly, picking her up and bringing her to his bed.

“Sweet dreams, Jo,” he whispered, giving her his usual goodnight kiss on the forehead.

[parkerslatte]

Years Passed [Chapter One]

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Part Summary: After a decade of living in England, Y/N finally moves back to America to be closer to her family.

prologue / next chapter

Years Passed Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist

***

CHAPTER ONE: FAMILIAR FACES

Y/N was always one to follow her dreams. Originally her dream was to become an astronaut but she soon found that she wasn’t smart enough for that. That’s when she found herself falling down the route of art. Y/N had always been a gifted artist since she was a child. While everyone in her class was drawing stick figures and calling it a day, Y/N would take time to get the proportions of the body right. People would always say she was trying too hard or just trying to get attention. Y/N didn’t care - she was doing what she loved.

It wasn’t until high school where she began to take art more seriously, people would come to her to do art commissions. At first Y/N refused, she didn’t want to charge people for her art but once she realised how much she could make from it, doing art commissions became her job. Throughout high school it was her main source of income. However, it wasn’t until the end of high school where Y/N decided that art was the thing she definitely wanted to go down. 

Opening up her own gallery became her dream. A couple of years after breaking up with Spencer Reid, Y/N moved to England. She didn’t exactly know why, all she knew was that she wanted a fresh start. Y/N moved into a small flat in Cornwall. It was perfect for what Y/N needed. She spent just over ten years of her life living in Cornwall and Y/N couldn’t be happier, however there were many instances where she missed her family. Y/N could never afford to constantly go between England and America and neither could her family. A lot of her time was spent on phone calls and video calls with her family. 

It was only recently that Y/N moved back to America. Six months to be exact. After nearly eleven years of being away from her family constantly, Y/N decided to move back to America. She didn’t make the decision lightly, it took her many months to come to the conclusion. Y/N had many friends in England. She had her small art gallery. Most importantly, her daughter had her friends in England and her school - everything she had ever known. 

Y/N’s daughter, Harper, was seven and she was the light of Y/N’s life. Everything she did was for Harper. Y/N didn’t want to pry Harper away from her home, but she wanted her to get to know her family. When Y/N told Harper the news, Harper was excited, she had always been a curious girl and moving to a new country was exciting for her. 

“Mummy!” Harper yelled, running out of her room to Y/N who was sitting on the couch. Her daughter’s accent was a little messed up. Some words would come out in an American accent and some in a British accent - more specifically the Cornish dialect. 

Y/N smiled upon seeing her daughter. As she ran, the wild curls on top of her head bounced up and down. Harper approached Y/N and climbed onto the couch next to her. Y/N wrapped her arm around her daughter and pulled her in close to her side.

“What’s got you so energetic?” Y/N questioned. 

“Can we go to the park?” Harper asked, “You said that we could go today.”

Y/N checked the time on the clock on the wall, “You really want to go at ten in the morning? You don’t want to wait until midday then we can go out for lunch?”

“Can we go now? I’m bored.” Harper draped herself over Y/N’s lap dramatically.

Y/N shook her head, a smile on her face. Harper was definitely one for dramatics, something she inherited from her father.

“Okay, how about this?” Y/N started, “We wait until eleven and we can invite Melanie and Toby and we can go and get lunch with them?”

Harper nodded her head vigorously causing Y/N to chuckle slightly. The only reason as to why Y/N wanted to wait longer to go out was because she was waiting for Harper’s birthday present to turn up. It wasn’t her birthday for another three weeks but Y/N always wanted to leave time in case the package never turned up in case she needed to buy something else. 

“Why don’t you go and play in your room and I’ll come and get you when it’s time to go?”

Harper nodded before running off to her bedroom down the hall. Checking the clock again, Y/N realised the package wouldn’t be here for another half hour. Deciding she had time to kill, Y/N made her way to her bedroom to get changed. If she was going to be out for most of the day, she decided that being in sweatpants and an old shirt wasn’t going to look so good. 

Picking out a simple sundress, Y/N got changed in a flash before she found herself seated on the couch again. Over the last few days, Y/N had found herself being more tired than usual. Everything she did drained the life out of her, obviously she wanted to run around and play with Harper but she would tire out quickly. Harper would try not to get sad about it as she understood why Y/N got like this once a year. Y/N wasn’t going to explain it until Harper got a little older but she understood perfectly. 

Grabbing her phone off of the coffee table, Y/N pressed on Melanie’s contact. Melanie had been Y/N’s friend for a while. They met a year before Y/N had moved to England, due to their long distance friendship, Y/N had expected that they would fall out of contact but they never did. Melanie was godmother to Harper and Y/N was godmother to Melanie’s son Toby. 

The phone rang a few times before Melanie picked up. 

“Hello?” Melanie’s voice came through the phone.

“Hey Mel!” Y/N greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Well Harper and I are going to the park in an hour and I was wondering if you and Toby would like to join us?” 

“We’d love to,” Melanie answered, “Toby’s been pulling my leg asking when he would see Harper next.”

Y/N chuckled, “We’ll meet you at the park if that’s alright.”

“That’s more than fine, we’ll see you then.” Melanie responded before hanging up the phone. 

Y/N tossed her phone back on the couch and slumped back down. She could easily turn on the television and watch something but she didn’t feel up to it. Getting back up from the couch, Y/N headed over to Harper’s room and pushed it open. Her daughter was hunched over her small desk, scribbling away on a piece of paper. Y/N smiled at the sight. Her daughter had taken after her in artistic skill, always having the dream that one day she would be as good as her mother. 

“Hey Harp.” Y/N said, entering her room. 

“Mummy, look I’ve done a drawing!” Harper said excitedly holding up the picture, “It’s the same one you painted.”

Y/N took the drawing out of Harper’s hands and held it up. Y/N had painted a landscape of a forest a few weeks ago and Harper had copied it almost exactly. Every time Y/N would do a commission or a painting for fun, there would always be smaller versions of the same painting but made with colour pencil. Sometimes Harper would sit next to Y/N while she was painting and they would do it together. 

Y/N always enjoyed doing art with Harper by her side. She would constantly ask questions about it and Y/N was always more than happy to answer. From sitting next to her and watching her paint, Harper had been teaching herself how to paint. Y/N would always offer to help her but Harper always refused the help, letting Y/N only watch from a distance. Their whole house was filled with paintings from both Y/N and Harper. 

“It’s incredible, Harp.” Y/N said crouching down, “Even better than mine.”

“No it isn't, your one is better.” Harper said, “Yours are always better. I want to be like you when I grow up.”

Y/N pressed a kiss to the side of Harper’s head, “I don’t want you to be like me, I want you to be like you. You are going to grow up and be an extraordinary person, like you already are.”

Harper hugged Y/N tightly, “I love you mummy.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.” Y/N pressed a kiss to the side of her head once more before she heard the doorbell ring. 

“Is that Melanie and Toby?” Harper questioned.

“No, it’s someone else, Mel and Toby are meeting us at the park,” Y/N explained, “Now why don’t you clean up in here before we head out.”

Harper nodded before she began clearing everything away. Y/N headed out of her room and opened the front door. Y/N expected it to be Harper’s present however she was greeted by two people - more specifically FBI agents. Y/N looked between the two, very obviously confused. 

When Y/N looked up at the male agent, her eyes widened the slightest amount. His hair was curlier and he had a slight stubble. He looked as if he filled out his clothes more as well. Even if it had been more than a decade, she could recognise him anywhere. 

Spencer Reid.

PERMANENT SPENCER REID TAGLIST

@spenxerslut  @averyhotchner @drayshadow @moviequeen51 @spencer-reid-am-i-right @ssavanessa22 @amurderofcrowsinatrenchcoat @mbjackie @jklemps @reformedmoneyshovel @nomajdetective @jesuisbenny @jooniehomie @spencerreid-187 @onyourfingertips @uhuhuh @rubyhi208-42 @archer561 @c0rpsecore @sweetandsunny @zoeygraygubler @algonsa @jswessie187 @shemarmooresfedora @kaz-2y567 @alfonsais @aikrus @nani-2305 @death-becomes-her @sarejane @isabelle-558 @measure-in-pain @the-nerd-gang @manuosorioh @luredwithpretzels @ceeellewrites @totallyclearwitch @jekkles @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @sarahpaulsonlov3r @periwinklemax @kuolonsyoja @heartmira @hoodpankow @parahmur

SERIES TAGLIST

​@its-9pm @nani-2305 @reidsfish @mochionly @spencerswildestdreams1 @magnetas @matthewscumslut @madsgraygubler @bakugouswh0r3 @rexit-mo @shinshankai

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

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[tipsydipsydo]

Der Geliebte

Pairing: Jungkook x artist! Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 6.4k 

Rating: 16+

AU: non idol! Jungkook x artist! Reader AU!

Genre: strangers to lovers AU; friends to lovers AU! (idiots to lovers AU!); love at the first sight! AU; soulmate to lovers! AU (kinda?); unbelievable amount of fluff; a little angst (fluffy angst!!,); tiny amount of smut (one paragraph xD)

Warnings: tiny bit of smut/some sexual tension between both of them; Jungkook is a poor shy thing and is fucking nervous around the reader all the time; teeth rotting fluff; both are so in love with each other that they’re getting stupid to not realize it; both are insecure that they’re not meant for another... just fluff, fluff, fluff and painfully obvious pining over each other! 

A/N: Hallelujah, I finally did it! After I made Sibi @borathae​ wait over three months for her Christmas + Birthday Fanfic I finished it two weeks to late for my sweetest Darlings Birthday! I am so incredibly sorry that I made you wait for such a long time and really, Sweetie, you have all the rights to be still mad at my stupid ass! Nevertheless... I love you so goddamn much and I hope the fic made at least a little bit up for it... Love you!!!! 💕 💕 

Summary: You and Jungkook met right at the first day you opened your own atelier in Seoul after you had to leave your old home behind you. You love paint canvas with landscape motives, other people just roll with their eyes when they hear that you choose such usual, almost boring things to paint. Not so Jungkook, he seems to be different than most of visitors. It’s almost like he can read your feelings through your paintings...

Status: Edited (I am sorry for any still existing errors in here!) 

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

* Jungkook’s POV * 

"In what are you getting yourself into, Jungkook?"

 I quietly ask myself as I get rid of my clothes behind the paravent and throw the dressing gown over his body which you laid out for me. My hands are sweaty, they tremble slightly and my heart beats wildly, as if it wants to jump right out of my chest. Excitement spreads throughout my body, leaving a faint feeling in my stomach and a certain blush rises in my cheeks. I still can't believe what I've gotten myself into . But... you looked at me so pleadingly with your dear and downright innocent eyes that I would have done anything for you with that look of yours. I want to make you happy, see that happy and contented smile on your lips, which always makes a whole horde of wild butterflies break out in my belly. 'Normally I was the shyness and silence in person and with you... with her, I feel for the first timesomething like peace and security. Especially when I consider how shy I usually am around women.', I ask myself and I don't really know the answer to that. But what can I do against my feelings? I don't really know, on the one hand they scare me, on the other hand they feel so exciting and new that I don't want to eliminate them at all.

I don't even know exactly when the whole thing started. In which moment my feelings for you grew, when I felt more than just fascination and admiration for you and your artwork. Six months ago, a small studio had opened in my district, your own studio. On the day of the opening I simply went to it of pure curiosity, I had always had such a weakness for art and photography.

I can still remember exactly how I stood in front of one of your works and was literally speechless and overwhelmed by this picture and all his small details. This painting represents a classic image of the countryside, which was often to be found everywhere. But this work was different. So full of small details and ornaments. It was so much more... As a viewer you can see a beautiful clearing, which is surrounded by trees and protected from too many curious eyes. The ground of this clearing is overgrown with dense and lush green grass, which from the incoming sunlight almost invites you to let yourself fall into the grass. It reminds me instantly of my carefree childhood, when I rolled in it without overthinking my actions too much and those times when I playfully wrestled with my best friends around until our clothes had grass stains all everywhere. I could almost smell the scent of wild, untamed nature. The longer I look at the picture, the greater the longing became. Maybe I could visit this beautiful place one day, together with my partner, my significant other. Playing around with each other, chasing your beloved one until you fall into the grass breathless laughing and cuddling. Maybe we could have a picnic there and feed each other with homemade sweets? 

I didn’t know that such a "simple" landscape painting could touch and awaken so much more in me, in my soul. Suddenly, such a wanderlust came over me that I gasped for air and a heavy lump formed in my throat. My whole body was tingling and my heart was literally screaming to get away from this dreadfully grey and monotonous daily routine of my boring single life, for at least some weeks. I want to go to this place, where I could draw the warm and fresh, natural air could deep into my lungs and pamper myself with homemade delicacies. Just to let the soul dangle and don’t stuck with my closely clocked work life. Maybe sleep until 10 o'clock in the morning and then maybe have a nice nap later. Enjoy the warm nights and hear the crickets chirping. This longing was... irrepressible. This particular wanderlust for nature, just to be out of the city, this longing for exactly this abandoned and untouched forest clearing literally overwhelmed me. What was it for an artist who could trigger such feelings and emotions in me?

I had been so absorbed in the artwork that I had not even noticed that a person step next to me. "Do you like the work?", asked a soft melodic voice, which spoke perfect Korean, but was pervaded by a light accent, which I could not quite assign. I flinched a little, but this bright, happy laugh gave me a tingling goosebumps all over my body. What a beautiful laugh... I turned to the person who was the owner of this beautiful voice. I was startled when I realized that the artist and owner of this studio was standing in front of me personally. I recognized her again, as I had seen a small photo of her in the newspaper article that drew my attention to this beautiful studio in the first place. Already in this picture she had radiated something so strong, colorful, cheerful and lively, which caused an excited flutter in my stomach. 

I admit, I already laid an eye on her just by her appearance. Unfortunately I always had a hard time getting to know people ever since, let alone to talk to women. And now having you, Y/N, personally standing right in front of me, made me feel fluffy and excited in my stomach. Nothing is left of this otherwise so sassy and self-confident  man that I used to be. Only a nervous and stodgy twenty-three-year-old idiot, who did not know what to say or wanted to say, now stands in front of this stunningly pretty and intelligent woman.

Her eyes sparkles like jewels, full of joy, struck me with interest and a playful smile lays on her lips. "Did you not understand my question?", she asked kindly, but nobly reserved. Immediately a rosy puff settled on my cheeks and I stuttered nervously: "Y-Yes, excuse me! I... I was just somewhere else with my thoughts and was completely surprised that they were addressing me personally.... Your works are truly unique! They still show such ‘usual’ motifs and yet they are so special because of these finely elaborated details and this passion with which this work of art was painted. They really are... Unique artworks that you do not forget so quickly. Even for untrained eyes as my owns, I can see that a talented artist has worked on it. I am very impressed by your work, especially this work here!" You could hear the honest admiration from my voice and my heart leapt as she reacted bashful to all of my compliments.

"Thank you, really, thank you so much! I really appreciate to hear such nice words like yours, even if it is rare. I am often criticized for my ‘lack of creativity’, caused by my chosen motives. I just love the rough, almost untouched landscapes of my hometown, I try to depict the ‘normal’ as something beautiful, unique. I would like to ‘really see’ what we already take for granted again. As a wonderful creation, a work of art. Nature is a wonderful example of this, or the architecture of buildings as well. Architects are also artists, although unfortunately they are not seen as such. I just want to offer the obvious things a more meaningful space again.... People like you have become rare. I have observed how you have recognized the true meaning, this beauty and aesthetics in such a ‘usual-looking’ motif. And this pleases me so much that you can read 'between the brushstrokes'. Oh... Excuse me, I always talk way too much when someone shows an interest in art or music, my personal passions. Besides that, I have not introduced myself to you yet, I am Y/N! I was obviously so pleased to see your understanding, empathetic look at this work, if you understand what I mean... Anyway... I can guess that you knew my name already, don't you? What about you? May I know your name?", asked you, beautiful artist, with her really stunning smile.

I swallowed nervously, never before had a young lady mixed my emotions so much in me. Even the picture of her in the newspaper article, which I had read out of boredom in one of my lectures, got me so emotionallyconfused. I didn't want to say it in front of my teasing friends, but I had been really excited when I set off this Friday night. And now the creator of these works of art stood before me and seemed to want to have a longer conversation with me. My heart beats to my throat and I got sweaty hands from this nervousness in my poor body. Honestly, as soon as I wasn't surrounded by my clique of friends, I automatically turned into a nervous, slightly abashed blushing and stuttering guy who behave like an inexperienced teenager. 

In private life, without my best mates by the side, I am not so confident and daredevil. After all, I always had someone who could cover my back when things get tough, while I am on my own without anyone I know. You could usually only believe and trust, not control. That's probably why I struggled with interpersonal relationships. I always overthink too much and have some struggles with my self-confidence.

And now this attractive young woman looked at me with such interest and joy, just me. I was actually the reason for her interest. A joyful and blissful tingling seized every pore, every fiber of my body. Yes, in fact it was just me! Not my best buddy Seokjin, whom I have known since childhood and always sought the attention of everyone. It was no exaggeration to say that he was perhaps a little narcissistic, but only to cover up his own insecurities. Never would I have thought that someone would manage to get this personification of self-love under control. I admired his wife for standing up to Seokjin and keeping him and his dad Jokes at bay. Believe it or not, she of all people had the pants on in the house and knew how to deal with my best friend.

My gaze glided over the figure of the person in front of me and once again I took a sharp breath. I was so nervous to face her personally, a person I already deeply admired and had quite a respect for. I simply did not want to do anything wrong, even if this charm of hers was almost tangible and paralyzed my entire brain with its function. I can already picture how my mind waved wildly goodbye to myself and went to the summer holiday in the Caribbean.

This carefree smile and these beautiful eyes harmonized wonderfully with your complexion. Your features were awake and alive, seemingly always a slight smile surrounded the corners of your mouth, which provoked almost paradoxical reactions in my body. Your smile awake countless butterflies to flutter around in my stomach, which made me quite nervous and at the same time you radiated such a sense of security and calm, as if there was no reason not to get a word out of shyness. My gaze, which I hope examined you unobtrusively enough, wandered to your hands. You had long fingers, I could really imagine how they elegantly held the handle of the paint brushes and worked on these small details extensively in such a calm behavior. Which satisfied and concentrated calmness you possibly radiated while doing that...

A small, noble clearing of your throat again tore me out of my fantasies and speculations. God, what was I today but inattentive! How rude I must have seemed to you...

"Oh, sorry... I... I have not been able to keep my thoughts together all day..." I lied to seem at least a little more credible. Nervously, I pulled on the knot of my tie to loosen it up a little before I have a circulatory collapse. Before I went here, I thought for a long time about what I should wear for this occasion. Jeans and T-shirt were out of the question, too casual and almost an insult for your atelier. A complete suit, however, seemed too overdressed to me and so I decided for a black dress pants and a dark blue dress shirt.Understanding, Y/N nodded and gave me a cheering smile, which made my body tingle again. This woman drove me half crazy alone with his friendly gestures. How could it be that this polite lady got me confused right away?!

And somehow, it gave me a frenzy to leave my secure, anonymous side as a visitor to her exhibition and irrevocably reveal my true identity to you.

"My name is Jeon Jungkook."I answered in a slightly trembling voice, hardly daring to look into her eyes and rubbing my neck unobtrusively.

* Jungkook’s POV *

If only I had guessed what would change in me, how you changed me. That so much more would develop from a pure interest and a simple formal business contact... that you want to make me one of your artworks.

I take another deep breath before I dare to step out from behind the dark red paravent. It is pleasantly warm in this room, I should not freeze, if I am already so freely clothed. My gaze wanders through the small room with the huge, floor-to-ceiling window, which floods the entire room with light. The walls of the room have been painted in a dark orange and red colors and dark wooden planks lay out on the floor. It looks so comfortable due to the warm, dark tones. The orange-yellow evening sun dipped everything into something so cozy... sensual. Somehow into even a little erotic?

Y/N wants to work a lot with the light of the evening sun in this painting, which could be a little complicated if it is not suitable or if it is cloud-covered. But if you have put something into your head, especially in relation to your art, then you do everything you can do to go through it! Also the changing forces of nature cannot stop you from trying to realize your idea. Sometimes, you’re  someone who is quickly frustrated and dissatisfied with yourself as well, especially when something doesn't work as  you wants it to. Nevertheless when it comes to your passion, drawing and painting, you don’t let your idea go away, if you want something, you’ll find a way to make it happen. These are qualities that I know all too well of myself and thus my fascination about you only grows even more. The more time we spent together and I get to know more and more sides of you, the more attracted I became to you.

Your art means a lot to you and you’re quite tough in this respect, can not be overcome by the reproaches and the crushing criticism. That’s exactly what I admire so much about you, having the courage to stand up for personal passion. When I get criticized, all too often I think about really giving up on it, so that I don't have to endure all this criticism anymore. And then I look at you. How focused you are in this moment and carefully prepare for your next project. How you adjusts you easel to the right height, let your self-stretched canvas snap into place, spreads brushes of all sizes and shapes on the small side table next to you and prepares youracrylic colours. I swallow again, as I watched this happen. I am about to become one of your next artworks.

A little uncertainly I walk towards Y/N, the thin dressing gown tightly drawn around my body... never before have I felt so naked and vulnerable. This here is something else. I feel something about it... I feel something for you. For this pretty lady, who sprays her cheerfulness around her and could conjure a smile on the lips of even the most grumpy person. This joy almost kills you, completely engrossed this person and gives you the feeling of floating. You will get the feeling of being welcome at Y/N. To be accepted, with all the flaws and weaknesses that one has. She just smiles at you so gently and lovingly and just says, it's okay. It's okay to be the way you are. Imperfect.

"It is precisely this imperfect, this contradictory and also unpredictable thing that makes us human. That makes us an individual and also interesting. If we were really all as we are expected to be, it would be boring and monotonous. The surprise is only a real gift. Each of us is a very individual gift to a very specific addressee, who is the only one who can truly appreciate this gift. Only then did the recipient find the right person as his gift... Well, if the recipient knows about his gift...", Y/N once said with such a certain look at me, when we went out to dinner together in a restaurant in the evening to clarify some details. I wanted to help her find good contacts in Seoul and help her sell her works.

I can still remember it exactly... it was a quite... extraordinary evening. I was of course once again incredibly nervous and excited. At that time, I did not want to fully realize how much I already like you. Secretly, I had observed my opposite. Your positive and friendly disposition had turned my head all around... and in addition, this beautiful body and her elegant fingers, which already haunt me in the most erotic way unintentionally in my dreams. 

I could not prevent my dream pictures from shooting through my head, which is why my cheeks turned dark red in embarrassment. These fucking fantasies in my head! My eyes stare at the cutlery as if it were incredibly interesting because I didn't dare look up. There were scenes in my mind that made my ears turn red and I would’ve loved to hide behind the menu card. Your body, which made her look like a Greek goddess.

Naked, body covered in sweat, your body shook in lust, you sit up with a wonderful moan... You are on top of me, I could admire your beautiful, almost divine body as you sat on top of me... and rode me. This breathtakingly beautiful distorted face of yours, as if all this pleasure you feel is carved in marble... lids closed, your lips, swollen from all the kissing, are slightly opened which let    your lustful whimpering escape. This grace and elegance, as you rose from me and  then lowered yourself again... as your hands glide erratically over my stomach, searching for support... you suddenly threw your head back and clenched even more tightly around my length. The addicting sounds you’ve made... it’s like the most beautiful melody in my ears... squelching noises and even more of yourjuices gushing out of your sweet, so sweet pussy when you came...

An all-too-familiar laugh tore me out of my extremely indecent thoughts, which quite relieved me at first. Until I raised my head and not too far away I recognized no one but my best friend Kim Seokjin, who made very questionable hand signals in my direction. Oh my God, no! I knew that he had recently changed his job and got accepted for a position as a chef in a new restaurant... but not in this Restaurant! He will never let me life after he found out I was on a “Date” with a woman...

Even though Seokjin was on the other side of the restaurant, I could almost feel his smirk on my own skin. Fuck it, just pretend as if you do not know each other and hit him really hard tomorrow morning in the gym where we meet up for our work out. I quickly turned all my attention back to the person sitting opposite me and tried to ignore Seokjin as best I could.

It was only at the end of the evening, when I had said goodbye to Y/N, that I realized that this meeting had much more of a date than a "business dinner". How familiar we had talked with each other... how much I had thought about licking Y/N the drop from the chocolate sauce of her lava cake from her lips... how it would be... to kiss and touch you...

A noticeable blush has settled on my cheeks as I attended our first meeting together... or even Date in this Restaurant thought back. Four months had passed since then and I suffered from longing for you. You would never see me like I saw you. The reason you wanted to draw me was simply that she needed someone as a model. In addition to landscapes and cities, you want to devote herself gradually to more other motifs. And since I have been the first inquired. Your pleading eyes made me say yes. But I know that for me you have  no more than the feelings for a casual friendship. It hurts to see how you flirt  around so casually with all those other people. I would never be the gift for you as you are for me. If only the recipient would notice that there is a given heart laying in your hands...

"Ah, Jungkook! I’m glad that you're ready!", your cheerful and melodic voice cuts through the silence of the room and you’re walking towards me with excited shining eyes. "Come~," you say and lead me to the chaiselongue, which is placed in front of the large window. The soft, orange light of the evening sun falls on the wine-red fabric of the restored chaiselounge in baroque style. The upholstery has frames covered in gold and also the lion feet on which this historic furniture stands are gilded. Everything was decorated with so many Details, it looks so incredibly elegant and luxurious. On the left side there are some cushions in the same color and an elegant design is carved on the backrest, literally inviting to get used.

"Surely you know the movie 'Titanic', right? Do you remember the scene where Jack used charcoal pencils to draw an nude coal picture of Rose as she laid on the sofa? I would like to draw you in a similar position. I hope it's okay for you if I look at you more closely without a dressing gown... i want to get an overview of your body proportions.", you say, looking me straight in the eye. I notice that you’re very concerned about my privacy and does not want to overstep any of my personal boundaries without my consent. I nod slightly at first until I get a clear yes over my lips. She looks at me silently for a few seconds before reassuring me once again that we can always stop at any time if I feel uncomfortable. Especially your patience and mindfulness of my boundaries shows me how important it is for you as well and how I actually relax noticeably. Y/N smiles cheerfully at me and I slowly loosen the belt of the dressing gown and let the last garment slide to the ground. I feel her in-depth look at me... he is not uncomfortable... only... exciting... in a few different ways.

I swallow again and lie down on the chaiselongue as instructed. You correct my arm and leg position, also rearrange all of the cushions correctly. To my own relief, you put a red cloth over my crotch area. Not that I am ashamed of anything, I am more than comfortable with you already... I just have some worries that I will get a visible problem if I constantly feel your look on my bare skin.

 "It should be able to guess something, but not be allowed to see everything right away...", she whispered with a smile, before her fingertips unintentionally glide tenderly through my happy trail. One of your last smiles are... not really to interpret. Then you return to your easel.

* The Reader’s POV *

Carefully you sit down on your old painting stool, already quite worn out on the edges and stained with the most different types and tones of colors. It had originally been dark brown. You smile dreamily when you think back that you’re used to dangle your legs around when you were a little kid because it was way too big for you back then. For eighteen years now you have exactly this stool and this easel. They had been a gift from your grandfather for your fifth birthday. He had awakened the passion of painting and drawing in you and passed his talent on to you. A certain melancholy seized you when I thought back to how you used to paint your first real picture on canvas with your new easel in the old music room in your grandfather's country house. 

It had been the old, dusty grand piano, which must have been more than a hundred years old at that time. How the country house survived all these wars unscathed, you ask yourself to this day. Perhaps there had already been something magical about it at that time, which should remain untouched. Perhaps the small estate should remain an inconspicuous symbol of hope, the hope that at some point the sun and peace will return when the unbearable suffering and sorrow of this cruel time is over. When the wars were over and all those seeking protection who had fled to this country house were able to return to their own homes again. This house, this estate you can explain your childhood with a single word. Home.

You lift your thought-lost look from your empty, folded hands and look to Jungkook. He takes your breath away every time you see him. He is so special, such a wonderful and yet you firmly believe that he has not been chosen for you, such an ordinary woman as you are. He would belong to someone else with whom he would be happy, although he is the only one who was able to understand and read your works, the language in them. It... it had been such a beautiful moment when, six months ago, he stood in your newly opened studio, so absorbed by the painting of the forest of your childhood. All the other visitors had only looked at it briefly and smiled wearily at the fact that it was again only a landscape painting, but did not grasp what the story behind this work was. Why the artist chosed this very motif, to see, to feel what the creator wanted to communicate through the work. 

But Jungkook had been different. He had given the work, your personal heart, a chance to unravel the true meaning behind it. He did it slowly, bit by bit with his eyes... grasped with his whole mind and heart and finally let himself be influenced as a whole. You could tell from his body reactions that he felt exactly what you had felt when you painted it last summer. Longing. Infinite Longing. Mixed together with melancholy, a little homesickness and sorrow to a unique emotional color. The day you painted it was the last time you saw the house in your official possession. Your grandfather had left it to you. But unfortunately you lacked money, you had to pay some debts and with the best will you could not earn the money in other ways. So you had to sell it with a heavy heart. Your beloved birth and childhood home and the associated lands, you had to sell your true home away. The picture is the only thing left of it. And Jungkook was the only person who understood what you wanted to express with the painting. Longing. My Homesickness.

When all these sensations came upon him, he involuntarily clenched his hands tightly, his chest lifted and lowered quickly, his Adam's apple hopped repeatedly. His eyes were glassy. He experienced your longing as directly as you did. He... is so special. So infinitely amiable. He... he is the only person who’s able to read your true feelings in your works. He is able to read between your brush strokes.

So today you will try him... to paint a confession of love with this act. Maybe he could read... what you feel for him. Even if you know that you will probably never see him again. Because you would not be the recipient of his love and affection. He's just too... too... gifted for a simple artist like you. He would never be your gifted person.

Your gaze glides tenderly and caressingly over his body. Trying to absorb every little detail of his body, his charisma and his character into you and let it flow into the painting. Every birthmark you want to put on the canvas and hold on. You want to show Jungkook how beautiful he is. How godlike he lies before you on this majestic chaiselongue, how masculine and muscular he is, as if he wanted to embody an Adonis. You want to paint every muscle, even the smallest visible muscle, on the canvas in a realistic manner, you want to capture the strength and security that he conveys to you over and over again and make it visible to him. And yet... his gaze often corresponds to that of an intimidated, insecure fawn, which does not dare to want to get up on his legs on his own. The fear of falling again is too big. Through this painting you want to show Jungkook what he really is, what he represents for you and what you feel for him. He is... so contradictory. He is strong, godlike, powerful... and at the same time, so infinitely uncertain, vulnerable... almost pure.

Silence enters your little studio, only the regular breathing of the other and the muffled noise of the busy world outside the door could be heard. Here... here, it feels like time is standing still for a moment for the two of you. Your shared eternity had begun.

To your happiness that it is summer right now and it stays bright for a long time. Today you take more time than usual to mix colors. You want to mix a shade that perfectly matches his skin tone. You want to get the exact color of his black hair down onto the canvas, and the perfect brown for his beautiful eyes. The evening sun and the leaves of the huge treetops in front of the large window conjure up the most beautiful patterns on his immaculate body. A game of light and shadow. It seems to you that Jungkook's body, every single pore of his body has a tiny diamond, so that he begins to sparkle in the sunlight like an infinitely precious jewel. The evening sun warms him, lays a thin layer of sweat over his body. Every detail you try to bring to the canvas, every feeling, every movement of my heart, everything you feel for him, you want to bring to this canvas. You want to make him a masterpiece. Because for you, he is the most beautiful specimen, the only true crown of the human creation.

Some black strands have come loose from his manbun and have fallen on his forehead. It looks stunning, to see him like that. I had never seen him with a messy or even completely open hair... but even now these strands loosened from the braid make his facial features look so much softer and more relaxed. In it, the adult and strong man united with a young, vulnerable, shy boy. The result is... infinitely beautiful. He possesses both sides, so he makes the seemingly inexhaustible divine human being.

His eyes, drawing his eyes with that expression in them, cost you a lot of nerves. Too often you misunderstood this infinite longing that you find in his dark, brown eyes. Again and again you have to restrain yourself, not just to get up, to go over to him... and to kiss him.

This longing look you misinterpret is as longing as you own... according to your closeness, your touch, your affection... according to your love. Because you love him. You love everything about him, his sheepish laugh, the way of rubbing his neck shyly, the way he speaks and explains his point of views about things, how he smells... just everything... every blemish he blames on himself, you think it’s like an artwork on him. He is so perfectly imperfect that you just fell in love with him.

The sun has already set and only the last pink and purple streaks could be seen in the sky, with which the past day says goodbye to the world. One last time you can hear the velvety stroke of the brush over the canvas before you finally put the brush aside. It is finished. You have given everything that is in your power, used all of your artistic abilities and knowledge to the utmost and you have incorporated everything that you feel and think about into this artwork. And what you see put a smile on your lips, but also makes your pulse rise. What will Jungkook say when he looks at it? He will see it... can he read what you feel for him in it?

With a trembling voice, you call Jungkook and look at him one last time. The last time the sight of this male beauty was granted to you. One last time.

After Jungkook has wrapped himself in the dressing gown again, he slowly comes towards you and your easel. Your heart is throbbing as if it really wants to fearfully flight and jump out of your chest. Your body gets hot and cold at the same time and suddenly your hands get sweaty, the dried color on your skin mixes with the sweat to a uncomfortable mess in your palms, which somehow makes you even more nervous. Then he stands next to you. Looking at the canvas for the first time himself. The last brushstroke is still drying.

Once again there is silence, which makes you incredibly nervous and with every second that passes, you want to follow your instinct to escape. Jungkook's pupils are dilated and blown out, whether with bewilderment or horror, you can not recognize. One of his hands shoots up his mouth, he trembles all over his body. Suddenly you hear a suppressed, throaty sobbing. Surprised and a little appalled, you look at Jungkook, who has shut his eyes tightly and presses the palm of his hand even harder on his mouth, as if he wants to muffle every sound. Tears escape the corners of his eyes. This is a reaction... which you would not have expected...

Gently, mindful of any kind of resistance, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't sob, he doesn't whimper. He just cries. Tenderly, consolingly you hold him, without wanting to distress him. He literally presses his face into the crook of your neck. Salty tears drench your blouse, but it doesn't bother you. The reason why he had such an emotional outburst, you just don't understand. But still... it's okay. It is valid.

As he slowly calms down and his breathes becomes regularly again, he carefully lifts his head out of the crook of your neck and wipes the last tears out of his eyes dry in slight embarrassment. He slowly releases himself from your embrace until you finally stand silently in front of each other.

"What title you’ll give this artwork?", he asks softly, in a rough, throaty voice. You swallow . "It shall be called 'Der Geliebte'. ...it is german and translated it means... ‘The beloved’ ", you say barely audibly and lower your head. After this confession, you can no longer look him in the eyes.

Jungkook takes a sharp breath in and you're actually just waiting for a devastating response from him that would be like a death threat. But nothing of this happened. Instead, your chin is suddenly raised by his fingertips and you look into Jungkook's beautiful eyes. He bites his lower lip a little uncertainly,his own gaze falls on your pretty shaped lips. 

"Do you... do you allow me to kiss you?", he asks quietly... barely audible for you even though you’re standing so close to each other. He doesn't dare to look you into the eyes after such a question, he is too afraid that you deny his request. But you can hardly believe your luck, a high pitched ‘yes!’ flew over your lips and before you can control yourself, you press your own lips right onto his. They are incredibly soft and kiss you back in such a delightfully and endearing insecure and shy manner as no other could ever have done it.

Your heart beats full of joy and bliss and in your belly, the butterflies fly somersaults of all different kinds that your whole body began to tingle. Your mind cannot get a grasp of all this yet, but this... you don't need any more of it at this moment anyway.

The kiss is tender, shy and somewhat uncertain from both sides. Jungkook is very insecure and shy, but before he can escape like a frightened deer again, you put your arms around his neck and let your hands rest in the nape of his scalp. Again and again you detach yourselves from each other only for the fraction of a second to get a breath of air into your lungs in order to find each other lips again... until you stopped for a few seconds.

"I like you... I like you really, really much, Jungkook... I even dare to say that I fell on love with you.", you mutter softly against his lips. His shy, happy smile was too much for you, so you immediately kiss him again. Perhaps because of the sheer joy and maybe of the certainty that he feels the same for you, the next kiss turns into something more passionate than before...

[sankyeom]

picture perfect | k.m

pairings: kevin moon x reader genre: art student au, strangers to lovers, art!student kevin, actor!reader, another secret admirer situation (yes i know we already did that in my sangyeon fit but it’s cute so idc) summary: in which you find a sketchbook filled with drawings of you, and go on a mission to find the owner word count: 8.5k (these just get longer and longer wow) series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

Your psychology professor always spoke a mile a minute, and it made taking notes unnecessarily difficult. Usually when she lectured, your wrist cramped from writing so fast, and your classmates couldn’t wait to get out of the room. On one particular autumn afternoon, you stared into nothingness as your professor gave a lecture on Milgram’s experiments, running lines in your head instead of taking notes like you usually did.

When you were cast as one of the lead roles (who didn’t even have that many lines to begin with) in your University’s winter play of An Ideal Husband, you were ecstatic to be given a new challenge. You had never been involved in acting or theatre before University, and you always felt like you were behind your peers. Your excitement soon morphed into something less productive: fear.

You were so afraid to mess up and disappoint your peers that you frequently did poorly in rehearsals and were the source of your cast’s frustrations. Perhaps it was your lack of experience, or perhaps it was because you didn’t really have any faith in yourself. Either way, it was all you could think about.

As your classmates started packing up to leave, you realised that the lecture was over and that you had just been in your own head for over an hour without learning anything from your class. Scrambling to pack up, you put away your notebooks and pencils as your phone chimed. Checking the text, you saw a message from your friend Sunwoo asking if you wanted to get lunch with him.

Getting to your feet, you texted Sunwoo that you were down for lunch as you exited the now empty lecture hall. As you left, you felt your shoe come in contact with a solid object in the doorway; a notebook that somebody must have dropped on the way out. Knowing that you would want your notes back if someone found them – especially in this class, where your professor spoke way too fast – you opened the notebook to see who it belonged to.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It wasn’t a notebook, it was a sketchbook. With a drawing of you on the first page.

At first, you scolded yourself for assuming that the person in the drawing was you. It was presumptuous of you, wasn’t it? But the texture, colour, and length of the person’s hair perfectly matched yours. The person in the picture had your eyes, skin, clothes, and smile.

Perhaps it wasn’t so arrogant of you to presume that you were being depicted in the drawing.

“That’s a lovely drawing,” Professor Shin, who was on her way out, complimented. “You’re an excellent artist.”

You glanced up from the page, feeling a little dizzy. “It’s not mine,” you admitted, head spinning at the idea of somebody drawing you. Plain, simple, me? You couldn’t believe it. “I just found it here on the floor.”

“Looks like somebody admires you,” your Professor mused, smiling before bidding you farewell, leaving you standing in an empty lecture hall, clutching the sketchbook in your hands.

You tried to find a name on the other side of the cover, but there was no number or form of identification anywhere. The only thing that alluded to an identity was the small signature at the bottom right corner of the drawing.

Moon scribbles.

The first time Kevin saw you, he was seated three rows behind you in one of his Cultural Anthropology classes last semester. You were jotting notes as quickly as possible, brows furrowed together in concentration as you gripped your pen hard enough for your knuckles to turn white.

Kevin didn’t take any notes that day.

All the could do was watch you, appreciating the way your expressions changed as you understood the content, and the hesitance on your face when you volunteered an answer during class.

He didn’t mean to start drawing you. You had simply inspired him to pick up his pencil and start sketching, the soft strokes of the lead slowly but surely forming shapes that resembled your eyes, nose, lips…  

Kevin didn’t think that you’d be all he could draw from that moment onwards. Even during his art classes; if the assignment was to study the scenery surrounding the University and draw a landscape, Kevin couldn’t get the image out of your face out of his head. Whether he used paint, charcoal, ink, or lead, it was your profile that emerged from his efforts.

Today was no different; Kevin was supposed to be studying the Psychology slides from class that day – which he hadn’t taken notes on because he was too busy sketching you – and yet he only had the urge to add the finishing touches to his drawing instead of facilitating his studying. Dragging his messenger bag over to his desk, Kevin rifled through it in search of his sketchbook. He had filled many, many pages with your face at that point, and it had become a habit for him to bring it everywhere with him in case he had the urge to draw.

Kevin furrowed his brows when he couldn’t find it. His heart pounded suddenly, the idea of him having lost his sketchbook in a place you might find it seeming terrifying and disastrous. After a final sweep of his bag – which included emptying it inside-out to make sure he didn’t miss anything – Kevin could only hope and pray that he’d find it before you did.

“You found what?” Sunwoo asked through a mouthful of noodles, his eyes comically large and rounded in surprise.

“A sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you replied in a monotone voice, knowing fully well that Sunwoo had heard and understood you the first time. This was the fourth time you had explained the situation, and it was starting to get a little old.

Eric narrowed his eyes, judging Sunwoo’s eating habits, before turning to face you. “Are the drawings cute?” he wondered.

“I wouldn’t say they’re cute,” you said absentmindedly, thinking back to the drawings you saw. After succumbing to your own curiosity, you had looked through the notebook to see what other drawings there were. You knew this was an invasion of privacy but you couldn’t help yourself. Surely enough, they were all of you.

“They were beautiful. Drawn in such detail that I couldn’t even believe it when I first saw them… And I look genuinely gorgeous in them,” you paused when Sunwoo scoffed at your words. “I’m not saying that to be vain,” you defended. “Trust me, I look much better in the sketches than in real life. Whoever drew them just… sees me differently than I see myself. I look beautiful in the pictures.”

“Your Professor’s right, it does sound like you’ve got yourself an admirer,” Eric teased you, pleased that somebody other than your close friends was starting to see how great you were. He wasn’t your best friend like Juyeon or Sunwoo, but he knew you well enough. “Did you get a name or anything?” he asked excitedly.

“Nothing,” you sulked. “I can take an educated guess that this person is probably in my Psych class since it’s the only class I have in that room, but who knows? It could be anyone that’s seen me before.”

“Maybe it’s one of your fans from the drama department,” Sunwoo poked fun at your cast members, not liking how they were treating you in rehearsals.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes, finally picking at your rice and starting to eat. “I just want to know who’s drawing me in such an amazing way. It’s so detailed that I assume it might be someone will a lot of skill, maybe an art major? But a lot of people draw as a hobby who aren’t art majors as well. Maybe-”

Eric interrupted you. “You’re thinking too much,” he said, trying to clam you down. “Just… slow down a little. Maybe they’ll come looking for it next time you have Psych? There’s no name or information so you can’t do anything to find them, anyways,” he rationalised, something that was usually your role in your friendships.

Your eyes lit up. “Moon scribbles,” you exclaimed.

Sunwoo gave you an unimpressed look. “Bless you.”

You ignored his cheek, taking out your phone and going onto Instagram. “The artist signed all of their drawings with a signature that says Moon scribbles,” you explained.

“You know it’s rude to go onto your phone during mealtimes,” Sunwoo replied.

You laughed. “I’ll be sure to remember that for the next time you do the same, Kim Sunwoo.”

After typing moonscribbles into the search bar, you saw an art page by the same name pop up. You couldn’t tell who it belonged to, as the bio vaguely gave information about the artist going to your University, studying art and being a pisces. Since the account was private, you decided to risk it and request to follow them, no matter how strange that might be if they weren’t the person you were looking for.

“I should have invited Juyeon out for lunch instead,” Sunwoo decided, picking at your rice dish in between bites of his noodles.

“Juyeon would rather hang out with Eric than you anyway,” you teased your friend back, knowing that Juyeon and Eric had a deeper friendship despite Sunwoo and Eric being the same age. Eric grinned, amused that the was the topic of discussion and not chiming in to deny anything. “And excuse me, I paid for lunch, you rascal! Now stop complaining, I’m done anyway.”

“Alright, fine. Did anything come up?” Sunwoo wondered, slapping your wrist when you tried to take some of his noodles. You rolled your eyes. Typical Sunwoo: always taking your food but never willing to share his with you.

“I don’t know yet,” you admitted. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

A few days passed without any response from moonscribbles on Instagram. You checked a few times a day to see if they ever accepted your request to follow them, but nothing ever came back. They didn’t deny your request, nor did they let you follow them either. It was frustrating, but it fell to the back of your mind after a week due to your schedule.

You had started doing full rehearsals with your cast members on stage for the play. At first, you thought that the setting might help you remember your lines and act without feeling awkward, but you were wrong. Most of your cast mates thought you got one of the lead roles for an alternate reason; perhaps you were related to someone on the University’s board and the director put you in because they wanted to keep their job. None of that was true, of course, but it didn’t help you make any friends.

The only friend you made was Younghoon, who played the lead opposite you, and with whom you frequently got together to go over lines and practice. He was one of those actors who was a completely different person from his role; he could keep be totally in character while doing his lines and the second the scene was over, he was back to his smiley self.

It didn’t help your confidence that he was an absolute pro. It only made you seem less competent in comparison, and you scolded yourself for even thinking that. Of course you knew it wasn’t Younghoon’s fault that he was simply much better at acting than you, but it definitely hurt your pride even more.

After another disastrous rehearsal, your cast mates had left to go backstage so you could have a word with the director. Younghoon sent you an encouraging smile and a pat on the shoulder before he followed your cast mates backstage, going over his lines in a faint whisper.

“Y/n,” your director began gently. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but what’s up with you?” You said nothing, prompting her to keep talking. “Your audition was really great. I knew I wanted you to play a lead role the second you were done auditioning. But you’ve been doing pretty poorly in rehearsals.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Your director sighed. “Look Y/n, I still want you to play your role. I like your chemistry with Younghoon and I think you guys could be really great leads. But if things don’t improve, I’m going to have to replace you with your understudy for the sake of this production.”

Even though you knew it was the obvious thing to do, it still hurt to hear. “I understand,” you whispered, nodding as you glanced at the floor.

“I really hope you can figure this out,” your director said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Let me know if I can help in any way, okay?” You nodded, and your director excused herself, leaving you standing at the edge of the stage by yourself.

You groaned once you were alone, taking a seat at the edge of the stage and letting your legs dangle over the edge. Welcoming the silence in the theatre as most of the cast had left for the day, you allowed yourself to lay back and close your eyes.

Why couldn’t you get this right?

Maybe I should just quit the play, you thought to yourself. It’s probably for the best.

When you heard the gentle patter of footsteps leading onto the stage, you spoke without opening your eyes. “Let me guess, you came to tell me how terrible I am too?” you uttered, not even caring who it was anymore.

The footsteps paused. “Um, actually, I’m just here to paint the sets…” a soft male voice spoke, causing you to open your eyes and sit up.

A familiar face stood a few metres away from you, paintbrushes and paints in hand. He had black hair that slightly covered his eyes, cat-like eyes and small lips that were pursed at the awkward interaction the two of you had just had.

“Sorry,” you apologised, getting to your feet. “It’s been a rough day,” you paused. “You’re Kevin, right?”

He looked surprised that you knew who he was. “Oh. Yes, actually.”

“I’m close with Juyeon,” you explained, realising how strange it might seem that you knew his name and recognised him. “I suppose I should probably have led with that.”

Kevin smiled. “No worries. I know you as well, you’re Y/n. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” you replied, bending down to collect your script and other belongings, pushing them into your tote bag as quickly as possible. “I’ll get out of your hair, then,” you smiled at him, implying it as your farewell.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re terrible,” Kevin confessed, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and starting to mix paints. You glanced at him. “Are you in your head a little? Maybe. But you’re far from terrible,” he assured you, his brown eyes brimming with kindness.

“That’s very nice of you to say,” you replied. “Thanks. Although, you seem more like an artist than an actor,” you added, teasing him just a little. You couldn’t help yourself, he was pretty cute.

Kevin laughed. “Fair enough,” he allowed. “If you want me to brag about being the lead in Aladdin in middle school, then I will.”

You placed your tote bag on your shoulder, holding your hands up in surrender. “I take it back,” you said immediately. “You have more experience than I do on stage.” The two of you shared grins.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Kevin assured you. “If I can do it then you certainly can.”

He seemed really sincere, and you appreciated it. “Thanks, Kevin,” you said, feeling much lighter and in a far better mood than before Kevin had come on stage. “I’ll see you around,” you bid your farewells before exiting the stage.

You’d have to ask Juyeon more about his friend Kevin.

The next time you and Kevin bumped into each other was after one of your rehearsals a few weeks later.

You had improved in your rehearsal times, with a lot of help from Younghoon – who practiced with you in between classes – and Sunwoo – who you ran lines with anytime the two of you were together. When you were done rehearsing, your director had expressed how happy she was that you were starting to warm up to the stage and really get into the character the way she was hoping you would. Younghoon earned himself two week’s worth of free coffee from you, and your cast finally stopped glaring at you whenever you came to rehearsals.

“Oh, hey,” you greeted Kevin, who started coming onstage to work on the sets with other people who were involved in the production process. “Good to see you again,” you told him.

“You too,” Kevin beamed, his hair falling over his eyes just slightly. You had the urge to brush it out of the way so you could see him better, but you resisted the urge and scolded yourself for being so forward. “You guys are looking pretty good out there,” he complimented, waving at Younghoon as he left the theatre. His older friend gave him a knowing look, making big eyes at him and puckering his lips to tease Kevin about his crush on you.

“Thank you,” you smiled back at him, entirely clueless to Kevin cursing Younghoon with his eyes right in front of you. “The sets are really coming along too,” you commend him, gesturing around you. “It’s certainly adding some more colour to our rehearsals.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kevin replied. “Set painting isn’t exactly my vocation or anything, but it’s a fun way to help out with my skillset.”

“Skillset?” you echoed, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Ah,” Kevin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, I’m a fine arts major. So set painting is a little less refined than what I usually do. Not that I’m bragging,” he added quickly.

“Not at all,” you agreed, your eyes widening in realisation. “Fine arts, that’s a really cool major. You must be pretty talented to get into fine arts here, it’s such a competitive major,” your eyes widened in sudden realisation. “I’d love to see something of yours that doesn’t involve painting sets,” you motioned to the stage around you.

Kevin almost blushed. “Really?” he asked, his heart beat hammering in his chest at the idea of you seeing his art.

“Yeah,” you nodded your head eagerly. Partly because you were really curious about his art, but mostly because Kevin was pretty damn cute. “For sure! I mean, if you come to opening night of the play, I’d love to go see your art some time.”

“How’s this Saturday?” Kevin asked, his words almost slurring together at the speed he was talking. “The art department’s putting on an exhibition and a few of my drawings are going to be in it.”

“That sounds great,” you agreed. “Do you think I could bring some friends?”

Kevin nodded, his deep brown eyes brightening at the idea. “For sure! I already invited Juyeon but you can bring Sunwoo along as well.”

“Then I’ll be there,” you promised.

“Oh my god, are you touching the art?” you heard Kevin exclaim semi-loudly. You froze from your place, pointing at the water fountain from which you were filling up a cup of water to drink.

“What?” you asked dumbly, your eyes widening as Kevin smirked, hiding his laughter.

It was the Saturday of Kevin’s exhibition and you were doing your best to blend in with all the artistically-minded people in the room; admiring the paintings, motioning at the sculptures and pondering over the meanings behind the light exhibitions.

“I thought this was just a regular water fountain,” you tried to defend yourself.

“It is, I’m just messing with you,” Kevin shrugged, causing you to exhale in relief and slap Kevin’s arm.

“That was awful of you,” you scolded, unable to hide the large grin making its way onto your face. “You suck.”

“So I’ve heard,” Kevin retorted easily. “Hi. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied. “So, when am I going to see your pieces?” you asked, motioning around the room. It was filled to the brim and people were bustling around the room to get a good look at every piece.

“Right now if you’re up for it,” Kevin suggested, waving as Juyeon and Sunwoo made their way over to the pair of you. You had excused yourself to get some water when Kevin spotted you and came over. “Hey guys. Sunwoo, good to see you again.”

“You too,” Sunwoo replied courteously, which was unlike him. Sunwoo knew Kevin vaguely through Juyeon, who was the same age as Kevin and had a lot of classes with him, and Eric, who Kevin often hung out with because they both spoke English. “Any of these yours?”

“A few,” Kevin said modestly.

Sunwoo nodded, looking around. “Are they good or are they more… conceptual?” he asked, his own way of asking whether or not Kevin’s art was a piece of crap or not.

You rolled your eyes. “Your eloquence astounds me, Sunwoo,” you said sarcastically.

“Well I might as well get to the point,” Sunwoo chided, glancing back at Kevin. “So?”

Kevin, who was observing you and Sunwoo with the same amused smile that Juyeon was, motioned the three of you over as he led you in the direction of his drawings. “I’m not so sure if they’re good, or conceptual, but I suppose you could judge that for yourself,” he told Sunwoo, coming to a halt in front of a display of drawings.

The drawings were lively and bright; colours in the form of pastels and charcoal bringing richness and warmth to the image. Most of his drawings depicted a faceless person. There were multiple drawings where the person was being portrayed from the back, and ones that were head-on didn’t have any facial features.

“These are amazing,” you breathed out, enchanted by the creativity of the drawings, as well as the immense detail that went into them.

“I like them,” Sunwoo decided, causing Juyeon to nod in agreement.

“They’re really good,” Juyeon complimented his friend, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m really glad you decided to put something on display this year.” Juyeon knew all about the artistic slump Kevin was in last year, so he didn’t have any art on display.

Kevin thanked Juyeon quietly, still studying your expression. “Can I ask why they’re faceless?” you asked, tilting your head as you studied the drawings further.

“Ah, that,” Kevin began, an uncharacteristic shyness appearing in his tone. “Well, I’ve been inspired by somebody for a few months now,” he explained. “I suppose I made my drawings faceless because I don’t want people to know who my muse is. I’m not ready to face how I feel when I draw them yet, and I think it’s too personal to put in an exhibition.”

You nodded your head, understanding where he was coming from. “That’s really great. I hope that one day I’ll get to see their face,” you said kindly, genuinely enjoying his art. Your eyes widened as you realised something. “Hey, do you know the other students in your major well?” you asked him.

Kevin raised an eyebrow at your sudden change of topic. “Yeah, I think so. We’re a small major and I have all of my 300-level classes with all the same people. Why do you ask?”

“Would you be able to recognise one of your peer’s work?” you inquired, the sketchbook in your dorm room burning a hole in your mind. He might be able to solve my curiosity.

“Maybe,” Kevin drawled slowly. “Why?” he found your sudden change of pace surprising. “What’s up?”

“Well, I found someone’s sketchbook in one of my classes and I was wondering who it belonged to,” you began, hesitating before bringing up the sketchbook you found in your Psychology class. “But they didn’t put their name on it so I can’t return it to the owner. It was really detailed and skilled work, so I thought they might be a fine arts major.”

Kevin’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

His worst nightmare had come true: you had found his sketchbook. His sketchbook that was filled with his heart-felt drawings of you. And here you were, asking him if he knew who it belonged to. Somehow, it was equal parts thrilling and mortifying.

Sunwoo, having heard about your secret admirer decided to check out a different part of the exhibition, but Juyeon – who was hearing this for the first time – stayed out of curiosity. “You found someone’s sketchbook?” he repeated. “What was in it?”

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh. Well, here’s the thing… There’s some drawings of me in it,” you admitted, feeling shy about divulging everything about the sketchbook to Kevin. “I just… I guess I want to meet the person that made me feel so vibrant and beautiful when looking at the drawings.”

“You have an admirer,” Juyeon realised, beaming at you; eyes squinting into little crescents. “That’s adorable. Does it say anything inside?”

“Yeah it does, actually,” you told him, giving him a smile before meeting Kevin’s eyes again. “All of the drawings are signed with the handle Moon scribbles,” you recalled. “No name or phone number, though.”

Juyeon’s brows furrowed together. “Kev, isn’t Moon scribbles-“

“A really interesting name?” Kevin cut Juyeon off, sending him the clear message that he wasn’t ready to tell you about the fact that you were his muse and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Getting the message, Juyeon eagerly agreed, thanking Kevin for finishing his train of thought. “Um, I don’t think I’ve heard of it before. But if you show me the drawings, maybe I could recognise the style?” Kevin suggested, coming up with a solution for you to find the owner of the sketchbook.

“That would be really great, actually,” you acknowledged. “I could bring it by the next time we hang out,” you suggested, excited to figure out who you should thank for their hard work.

“Next time?” Kevin echoed, excitement filling his stomach. “Are you really so eager to solve your mystery?” he teased you.

“Well, you’re not such a bad addition,” you added with a wink.

Kevin’s heart soared.

You met up with Kevin in the library a few days later to show him your sketchbook. It was good timing because you definitely needed to study for your Psychology class after zoning out in your last few lectures, so the library was the perfect setting to meet.

“Hey,” you greeted Kevin, taking the seat next to him on one of the sofas in the more secluded area of the library.

“Hi,” Kevin mumbled in return, his voice sounding quieter and more hoarse than usual. At first, you thought it might be the fact that he had to whisper that made him sound more quiet. Then, you spotted the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he was wearing glasses, which he didn’t normally do.

“You okay?” you asked him, seeing him stretch out and yawn in his seat.

“Me?” Kevin murmured, meeting your gaze with tired, glazed-over eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Not to sound like an asshole who’s telling you that you look terrible, which I’m not, but you look really tired,” you had to tell Kevin. “Are you sure you’re up for this? You look like you could use some sleep.”

“Sleep,” Kevin said the word like it’s funny. “Sleep and I… we aren’t friends.”

You smiled sympathetically at your new friend. “Up all night studying?” you wondered.

“Insomnia,” Kevin corrected you.

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding. “So sleep is… a distant acquaintance?” you played off his previous joke.

“Something like that,” he allowed, moving his glasses up onto his forehead to rub his eyes. “I’m good, though. I look like this most days, don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so,” you trail off, your concern still not being calmed by Kevin’s explanation. “We can do this anther time if it helps, though. I wouldn’t want you to be unwell because of me.”

Kevin grinned, adjusting the beanie on his head. “But I couldn’t possibly be unwell if I’m around you,” he said, pointing his finger in the air as if he had made an excellent realisation. “Now, show me the sketchbook.”

You pulled the sketchbook out of your tote bag and handed it over to him.

Seeing it right in front of him, Kevin could confirm that it was definitely his sketch book that you had found. Although the chances of another person on campus being entirely smitten by you to the point where you became their artistic muse was slim, it wasn’t zero.

“Can I,” he motioned to the sketchbook, asking for permission to open it. It was incredibly ironic, but Kevin was too embarrassed to come clean about the sketchbook being his.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, telling him to flip through the pages.

Kevin did so, pretending he was seeing all the drawings for the first time. He paused on every page, looking over the details in the sketches and the way they realistically depicted your features. Even though he was the one who drew them, Kevin could admit that the drawings were really great. They were great because he appreciated the subject and was inspired by you. That much was clear to anybody.

“Wow,” Kevin said when he was done looking at all the drawings, holding the sketchbook on his lap. “That’s… you,” he observed, as if he didn’t already know.

“So I’m not crazy?” you asked immediately, biting your lip. “That’s me?” you glanced down at the open page in front of Kevin, seeing the resemblance between you and the person in the drawing.

“Oh it’s definitely you,” Kevin confirmed. “Unless you have an identical twin somewhere out there, there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s you.”

You let out a relieved sigh, leaning back onto the sofa. “Okay, good. I thought I was being really shallow and presumptuous at first but it’s good that you agree,” you told him, feeling a weight being lifted off your chest. “So, does it look familiar?”

“I’m not sure,” Kevin replied vaguely, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one. “Do you think I could keep this? Maybe look over it a few more times when I’m not about to pass out,” he added.

“Sure,” you allowed. You trusted Kevin enough that he wouldn’t lose the sketchbook, since all of your mutual friends spoke very highly of him. Besides, you were becoming more impressed by him every time the two of you met. “I hope something comes up. I looked moonscribbles up on Instagram but their account is private and they haven’t responded to my follow request yet.”

Kevin had completely forgotten about his private art Instagram account. Before he was inspired by you to draw, he was in a serious slump and had been spiralling downwards. In this time, he made his Instagram account private in an effort to not think about it too much. Kevin scolded himself for not realising that you would look him up on social media to find him.

“That’s too bad,” he said sympathetically. “Maybe they’ll respond soon?”

“I hope so,” you mumbled, sighing. “I just… I want to meet them.”

“Just out of curiosity, why do you want to meet them so badly?” Kevin wondered. “Because they drew pretty pictures of you?”

“Kind of?” you replied unsurely. “That’s definitely part of it. I guess I wanted to meet somebody who thought I was vibrant and colourful and beautiful,” you shrugged, glancing down at your lap. “Because I don’t think that about myself at all. It’s why I suck at acting, and it’s why my cast mates hate me. I just thought that if somebody out there really thought I was special, maybe I would have a reason to believe it, too.”

Kevin felt butterflies rising in his stomach again, but not in a fluttery, nervous way. He was anxious about what was going to happen. “I’ll do my best to help out,” he said gently. “And Y/n?” you looked back up at Kevin. “I think you’re special,” he admitted. “A lot of people do. Juyeon, Sunwoo, Eric, Younghoon… You don’t need Moon scribbles to be special, you’re already special to us.”

A grateful, shy smile spread across your lips at his words. “Thanks, Kev. For your help, and for saying that. I really appreciate it,” you acknowledged afterwards, realising that Kevin was going out of his way to figure out your mystery while he was dead tired.

Noticing the shift in atmosphere, you cleared your throat and changed the subject, heart hammering. “I’m going to stay here and study for my Psychology class, so you don’t have to stay if you’d rather get some sleep.”

“Psychology?” Kevin echoed. “Are you taking it with Professor Shin?”

“Yes,” you groaned. “She talks so fast that my hand feels like it’s going to fall off after her lectures,” you complained.

Kevin laughed. “I can relate,” he commented. “I didn’t think you were in my class. I’m in section fifteen, what about you?”

“Section twenty-two,” you said, shrugging. “Although I’m glad to hear that it’s not just my class that she’s driving crazy.”

“Ditto,” Kevin agreed. “I actually have to get some studying done for that class too. You mind if I stay?”

“Not at all,” you promised. “It always helps to study with a friend,” you added, pulling out your notes and laptop from your tote bag.

After setting up all of your work, you quickly got to studying, cross-referencing terms from your notes to the textbook to make sure you didn’t write down anything wrong in your hurry. Kevin was silent and still beside you, which you took no notice of because you were so focused. In your distraction, he soon drifted off to sleep with his pencil still in hand, head lulling back to rest on the sofa as his eyes shut by their own accord.

Forty minutes later, you had finished both of the units on Social Psychology and furrowed your brows at an unfamiliar name. “Hey Kev, did you guys talk about-“ you paused after turning to face your new friend, seeing that he was peacefully sleeping, his head now leaning to the side to face you.

The sight of him sleeping peacefully warmed your heart, especially after he had talked about his insomnia earlier. Smiling, you pulled your headphones out of your tote bag so you could listen to the recorded lectures in favour of waking up Kevin to ask him for help. As carefully as you could, you slid the pencil out of his palm and placed it to the side so he could get some rest.

You spent the next half an hour studying in silence, until you noticed Eric, Sunwoo and Jacob walking up to you and Kevin. “Hey,” Sunwoo greeted you, earning a wave from you.

“Hi guys,” you whispered back. “What’s up?”

“Are you and Kevin dating?” Eric interrupted whatever Sunwoo was about to say, an excited glint in his eyes. “You guys are in the make-out section of the library!”

You made a face. “That’s why nobody’s here?” you realised, looking around and frowning. “No, Eric. We’re just studying together.”

Jacob grinned. “Looks like Kevin’s making really great progress on that front,” he teased. “I’m Jacob, by the way,” he added, since the two of you hadn’t properly been introduced yet.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied. “Nice to finally meet you! These rascals have told me all about you,” you motioned to Sunwoo and Eric, who beamed proudly.

“I’ve heard a lot about you as well,” Jacob replied. “And I’ve come to collect Kevin. If he doesn’t wake up soon, he’s going to miss his Ceramics class,” he explained.

“Aw,” you pouted, glancing over at Kevin. “He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, though. And he said he was struggling to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Jacob agreed. “I hate waking him. Believe me, I’m his roommate so I see it all first-hand. But attendance is graded in this class, so…” he trailed off with a small shrug before leaning over and waking Kevin up.

Kevin awoke, eyes blinking drowsily as he took in the image of four people staring at him. “What did I do?” he asked, wondering what prompted all the attention.

You grinned, finding the sight rather cute. “Your wake-up service is here to tell you it’s ceramics time,” you explained.

“I fell asleep,” Kevin realised. “I’m sorry,” he apologised, feeling bad that you were studying in silence when you were supposed to be helping each other out.

“Don’t be, I’m glad you got some shut-eye,” you assured him. “Go get ready for your class.”

Kevin gathered all of his things into his bag and waved his goodbyes, trudging out of the library with Jacob. “So,” Jacob began, a wide grin gracing his features. “That’s Y/n?” he teased.

“Yes, that’s Y/n,” Kevin replied quietly.

“The famous Y/n?”

“Oh my god please tell me you didn’t say anything to Y/n.”

“What should I have said? Oh so you’re the Y/n that Kevin has been in love with all semester! The famous muse! Nice to meet you, I’m the guy that has to listen to him gush about you.”

“Don’t make me hide your guitar.”

moonscribbles accepted your follow request!

You sat up from where you were lying down on your bed, startled at the notification you had just received. Racing to open your Instagram app, you looked at moonscribbles’s account. None of the drawings on their account were of you, so you couldn’t decide if they were the right person. But they simply had to be. They went to your school, they studied art…

Braving it, you decided to send them a private message.

Hi! I think I found your sketchbook in Professor Shin’s lecture hall. How do you want me to return it to you?

You waited for a response, which came within a minute.

You can keep it.

You were pouting over your cereal in the dining hall when Juyeon joined you, his plate stacked high with all kinds of delicious breakfast foods. “Hey pouty,” he teased you, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge when he took the seat next to yours. His smile never failed to cheer you up, which is why your frown caused concern to grow in your best friend. “Why the long face?”

“I’m never going to meet moonscribbles,” you told him, your eyes uncharacteristically sad and shiny when they met Juyeon’s.

He startled at how upset you were. “What? Why would you say that?”

“They accepted my follow request on Instagram,” you explained. “And they told me I could keep the sketchbook. Then they went offline,” you recalled. “I guess I was wrong about them.”

“I’m sorry. Whoever they are, they clearly have no idea what they’re missing.” Juyeon frowned, sympathetic of your situation and confused about what Kevin thought he was doing.

“What who’s missing?” Jacob and Eric took the seats opposite you and Juyeon, their plates equally filled with breakfast foods.

“Moon scribbles,” you said vaguely, not wanting to get into it with anyone other than Juyeon and Sunwoo. While you were starting to get to know Jacob better, you didn’t feel comfortable enough around them to discuss the matter with them. And of course you loved Eric, and he knew your situation, but you hadn’t anticipated feeling so upset about Moon scribbles’s response.

“Kevin?” Jacob asked innocently, picking up his fork and elbowing Eric so he wouldn’t steal his food. “What did he do?”

Your eyes snapped over to Jacob. “What did you just say?” you asked. Juyeon’s eyes widened, mouth slightly open as Jacob revealed Kevin’s secret to you without even realising it.

“I was asking what Kevin did,” Jacob repeated. “You said Moon scribbles, didn’t you? Kevin’s artist handle?”

“That’s clever,” Eric chimed in, innocently eating his food. “Since his last name is Moon, and all.” Then his eyes widened and he realised the situation, his gaze snapping over at you to see how you were handling the reveal.

In that moment, you’d never felt like more of an idiot.

“Kevin is Moon scribbles,” you echoed, dropping your fork onto your tray.

“Oh,” Jacob paused, reading the room as he saw the way Juyeon was staring at him. “Did you… not know that?”

“No,” you told him, having lost your already minimal appetite. “He didn’t say a thing.”

“Oh boy,” Jacob said awkwardly. “I feel like I definitely just messed up.”

“No, no,” you denied, waving your hand in Jacob’s direction. “Not at all. I’m just glad that I know who it is,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself. “Did you know?” you asked Juyeon. “That day at the exhibition… You were trying to tell me that you knew it was Kevin, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I knew,” Juyeon replied slowly, confirming your suspicions.

For a moment, a dull pain ached in your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, hurt that your best friend had lied to you.

“Because I figured Kevin wanted to tell you in his own time,” he explained. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you, I just thought he’d do the right thing and explain it to you himself. It felt like it wasn’t my news to tell.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “I understand,” you got to your feet, grabbing your tray after putting your bag on your shoulder.

Juyeon stood up with you. “Are you upset with me?” he asked. “Because I understand if you are.”

You did your best to smile, not caring if it looked real or not. “I’m not upset with you,” you assured him. “I’m upset, but not at you. I have to get to the last dress rehearsal before opening night, so,” you glanced over at Jacob and Eric, who both looked mortified. “Enjoy your breakfast,” you told them before putting your tray away and walking to the theatre as quickly as you could.

“Hey!” your director greeted you when you came in, beaming. “You’re like a half hour early,” she observed.

“Oh, I’ve just come to go over lines and talk to some friends,” you lied, smiling at her before stepping backstage. The set design volunteers were adding last-minute touched to their sets, and you knew that was where you’d find Kevin.

“Hey,” he greeted you when you arrived in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Moon scribbles doesn’t want their sketchbook back,” you told him, as if you didn’t know that he was Moon scribbles. “So you don’t have to keep looking for them,” you added.

“Oh, okay,” Kevin nodded as if he didn’t already know this. “Did you want the sketchbook back?”

“You can keep it,” you declined, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s rightfully yours anyway.”

Kevin paused his painting. “It is?” he asked, voice squeaking just slightly in surprise.

“Yeah, Moon scribbles,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “Besides, it’s the only way you’ll get to see me ever again, anyway,” you added, frowning as you turned around to go. “Bye, Kevin.”

“Wait,” Kevin put his fine paintbrush down to stop you from leaving.

“What?” you asked him, facing him with a raised eyebrow. “You know what, I actually really want to hear this. What exactly is it that you’re going to say to save this situation?” you wondered.

Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for it to go on this long,” he began.

“That’s a joke,” you accused. “You knew how much this meant to me! Just admit that you were never going to tell me that you’re Moon scribbles.”

“How could I tell you?” Kevin exclaimed, startling you with his sudden increase in volume. “How could I just come forward and tell you that it was me? What would you have thought of me?”

“I’d have thought more of you than I do now,” you retorted. “Look, I get it now. I read the situation all wrong. You don’t think I’m special or vibrant or any of those things. You just drew me because I was there, I suppose,” you decided, feeling your heart dropping in your chest at your own words.

“That is not true,” Kevin denied, shaking his head. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I suppose you might have though I was pretty if you drew me,” you allowed. “But clearly, I was putting too much onto this whole Moon scribbles thing, and it didn’t mean anything to you at all. Which is fine, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It just sucks that you couldn’t just tell me that to my face,” you confessed wholeheartedly. “But it’s fine. You can just go back to drawing your faceless muse now, I’m over it,” you lied.

“That’s not why I didn’t want to tell you that I’m Moon scribbles,” Kevin insisted. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to think I drew you just because you’re beautiful.”

“That worked out well,” you muttered.

Kevin sighed. “I don’t care about your looks, as ironic as that sounds. When I first saw you… You exuded an aura. I know that sounds cheesy and not everyone believes in vibes or energy, or whatever, but it’s true. You inspired me to draw and be creative,” he explained. “But I liked you when I met you. When I saw you in class and when I saw you around Sunwoo and Juyeon. You don’t get it. You are my faceless muse. You have been ever since our Cultural Anthropology class last semester.”

That stopped your train of thought. “You were in that class?” you repeated, confused.

“Yes I was. The first time I saw you… I swear, I haven’t drawn anything other than you since that day,” Kevin’s tone was uncharacteristically serious, and you felt inclined to believe him. “No matter how hard I tried. Flowers turned into your eyes, landscapes became your hair; I was a man possessed. I still am.”

“Then why not tell me all of this?” you wondered, frustrated with the situation.

“I thought that if you found out I was Moon scribbles, you’d just think I was shallow,” he paused. “Or worse.”

You rose an eyebrow. “Worse?”

Now it was Kevin’s turn to sound frustrated. “I mean, I’m not so great and special. I figured you’d be disappointed that it’s me.”

Your heart clenched for him. “How could I be disappointed that it’s you?” you asked him. “You’re great. It’s me who’s awful.”

“You aren’t awful,” he denied. “You’re so much greater than you can see. Don’t you get it? You inspired me to create after the most awful year I’ve ever had artistically. I drew you instead of studying, I drew you instead of leaving my dorm, hell, I drew you instead of sleeping. You didn’t misunderstand anything. I do think that you’re special, and vibrant.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Okay,” you spoke quietly, your mind spinning in circles. “I believe you.”

Kevin nodded. “Good.”

You nodded back at him, unsure of how to continue. “So… You have a sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you decided to tease him, just to bring some of the usual lightheartedness you felt around Kevin back.

Kevin visibly reddened at your words. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said it was just one,” he confessed.

You brightened at his words. “You have multiple sketchbooks full of drawings of me?” you exclaimed.

“I made drawings of you for the art exhibition,” he reminded you. “I haven’t been able to draw anything else for seven months. And I draw a lot, so the sketchbooks just started piling up. Plus my iPad,” catching the delighted glint in your eyes, Kevin cut himself off. “You know what, we don’t have to talk about my iPad.”

You smiled, flattered that Kevin had been so inspired by you. “Well, thank you. For filling sketchbooks and iPads and whatever other mediums with drawings of me. You made me feel seen for the first time in a really long time, and I appreciate it,” you acknowledged his efforts. “Is this why everyone acts so weird when we’re together?” you put the pieces together.

“What are you talking about?” Kevin asked, dreading your answer.

“Eric practically skips over to me whenever he sees me now, asking about you and all kinds of other things. Jacob is a lot more subtle, but he looks at me like a proud dad sometimes,” you explained.

Kevin rested his palm against his forehead. “Why are they so obvious?”

“The real question is: Why was Juyeon the least obvious,” you retorted.

“I think he just wanted us both to figure things out in our own time,” Kevin mused, earning a hum and a nod in agreement from you.

“Hey Y/n,” Younghoon poked his head around the corner. “We’re getting ready for rehearsals. Are you going to be done in time to change?” he asked, eyes flitting between you and Kevin.

“Yeah, I’m good to start getting ready. Thanks Younghoon,” you agreed, grateful that your friend wasn’t making a big deal out of what he might have overheard. Younghoon nodded, disappearing with a wink to get himself ready. “Well, that’s my cue,” you trailed off, motioning to the backstage area where you had to get changed for your last dress rehearsal.

Kevin nodded, slightly upset that your conversation didn’t come to a closure yet. “Okay,” he replied. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

You agreed with him, grabbing your bag from where you dropped it on the floor and making your way to the changing rooms. Before you opened the door, you turned back to face Kevin, who had been watching you leave. “I came to your exhibition, so you have to come to opening night,” you reminded him of the agreement the two of you made.

“I’ll be there,” Kevin assured you, taking it as a sign that the two of you could still – at the very least – be friends.

“Good,” you smiled. “And after opening night, we have a few days off so I would definitely be available, say, Wednesday?” you informed him, hoping he’d get the idea.

Kevin brightened up, his posture straightening suddenly. “Oh?” he stammered. “Would you maybe want to get dinner on Wednesday?” he offered. “Like, a date?”

You grinned, your eye dropping into a wink. “What an excellent idea,” you told him. “By the way, don’t bother asking the boys about what I like, they’re completely clueless. My favourite flowers are peonies.”

“Peonies,” Kevin repeated, accompanied by a nod. “Any preferred colour?” he asked, giddy with excitement at the outcome your confrontation had.

You shrugged. “Surprise me.”

note: okay i know you guys waited forever for this so thank you so much for your patience!! i hope you guys enjoyed it xx

[movedbl0g]

stray kids - reacting to you being an artist

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

🖤requested by @tayatubby

-> I hope you like it!!

(Gifs also belong to their original owners)

————————————————————

Bang Chan:

Chan finally got a day off, he was spending the last days in his studio, busy with working on new music. So when you finally could meet again, you decided to go on a picnic date, bringing cinnamonrolls and a lot of other stuff with you.

After you ate, Chan laud down, his head pointing up while resting on your thigh, slowly drifting to sleep. You softly stroked his hair, when u had an idea. You grabbed your sketchbook from the bag besides you and you started to draw the peacefully sleeping man in front of you.

You were almost finished, just a few little details missed, so you were looking at Chan, appreciating his features in order to draw them right. All of the sudden, a little “hey! You’re staring!”, brought you back to earth, as you were completely zoning out. “Oh- I I’m sorry I just-“ , you stumbled nervously, but after your eyes met Chans , you both laughed it off.

Then, Chans eyes fell into your sketchbook. “What are you drawing?”, he curiously asked trying to peak on the page. You tried the close the sketchbook as fast as possible, but Chans fast reflexes already kicked in and he grabbed the book before you could close it.

As he saw your drawing, he immediately blushed and let out a small chuckle. “I didn’t know that you can draw that well y/n! This looks really amazing!! Why am I only seeing this now?? Please,,can tou draw something for me??”

Lee Know:

You were sitting on the couch in the large dance practice room,the room filled with the sound of music and Minho’s steps. He has been practicing for a while now, while you carefully watch every movement he makes.

After a while you decided to draw a little, you always had a sketchbook and a pencil with you (just in case), so you pulled it out of your beg and opened a free page.You started to sketch the different movements Minho did, analyzing his anatomy and emotions, trying to include them in your sketches.

Once you had the base of several movements and poses in the paper, you started working on the little details. You were so caught up in drawing, that you didn’t notice that the music suddenly stopped and that Minho walked up to you.

“I didn’t know that you could draw that well, y/n!”, he said and you clearly heard the amazement in his voice. “Thank you”, you said while your cheeks flushed red. “But no matter how good my drawing skills are”, you continued,” the drawings will never look as handsome as you do in real life”.

Changbin:

Finals week were coming up soon, but you just couldn’t concentrate on the school stuff in front of you. You tried listening to calm music and asmr, but nothing seemed to help. Your mind just kept swaying to other things or well...Changbin.

You started to mindlessly scribble on your notes,but after a while you started to draw an actual portrait from Changbin on your notes, trying to bring in all the details, like the sparkle in his eyes and cute dimples.

“I thought you wanted to study”, a voice behind you said, causing you to jump. You blushed and tried to cover the drawing on your notes but Changbin already laud his eyes on it. “Is- is that me??”, he asked,you were not able to tell if he liked it or if he thought that it looked horrible.

You hid your face in your hands, trying to hide the embarrassed look an your face. “Yes...maybe....”, you said slowly, waiting for a clear reaction. Changbin started to giggle, blushing from your cuteness “it really looks amazing, you could definitely sell this!”

You both started to giggle. “Well, maybe you should draw another one tho, because these math equations kinda kill the vibe”, he added,giving you a small peck before walking into the bathroom.

Hyunjin:

“You really think that you can draw better than me?”, Hyunjin asked teasingly. “I mean we could do a drawing contest and let the other members decide who won”, you answered confidently,raising an eyebrow at him.

What Hyunjin didn’t know,is that you always were good in arts and you even studied it for a while, before you decided to concentrate on other things. After you both agreed on a theme you both started drawing, a wall of arts supplies blocking you both from looking at the other’s artwork.

Time flew by quickly, you were both silent for the most time, concentrating on the drawing in front of you. “I’m finished!”, Hyunjin suddenly screamed, confidence written in his face and you can’t help but let out a small giggle.

Hyunjin eyed you offended “so you’re thinking your winning, huh”, he stated in a teasing voice, “then show me your drawing fir-“. He stopped in the middle of his sentence, as you turned around your artwork to him, causing him to gasp out loud. “Nooooo”, he whined dramatically,” how was I supposed to know that you’re THAT good at drawing....this is not fairrrrr”

Jisung:

It was the first time that you two went to your apartment. You had been together for a few months now, but you always met at different places and mostly the dorm.

The two of you had bags filled with groceries in your hand,since you were planning on cooking together this evening.After a little bit of struggle you opened your apartment door and held the door open for Jisung, letting him walk in, while his eyes explored your apartment.

As you put down the groceries in your kitchen, Jisungs eyes fell on the colorful wall in your apartment, it was filled with little drawing, landscapes, forms and a lit of different things, but somehow it all harmonized to one big picture.

As you catched your boyfriend staring at the wall, you walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his chest while pulling him close “Do you like it?”, you asked. “Are you kidding me??”, he answered, his voice excited while his eyes were still lingering on the wall, “this is one of the most amazing and beautiful things I’ve ever seen...I can really be happy to have such an talented partner like you, y/n”

Felix:

“Do you want to help me decorate this cake??”, Felix yelled from the kitchen,while you were busy scrolling on your phone in the living room. “Sure,,I’m on my way!!”, you screamed back, putting your phone down and making your way into the kitchen.

“The cake smells totally amazing!!”, you complimented as you pulled Felix into a tight back hug. The boy giggled,putting both of his hands on yours.”what theme do we want to go for?”, he asked while turning around, so that he can face you. “what about if we try to recreate the latest album cover and draw a group photo on it?”, you suggested.

“But isn’t that kinda complicated?”, Felix asked worried, but you gave him a reassuring smile. “ I mean yeah, it’s not very easy, but if we mess up we just have to eat the cake as quick as possible, so no one sees it” you said jokingly, turning to the cake to star decorating it.

After some time you were finished with decorating, the kitchen was a really big mess, but the cake turned better out than you expected. “Woahhhhh”, Felix let out as he saw the cake. “You’re talent is crazy...like wowww look at that.....”, he immediately pulled out his phone to take a picture of the beautiful decorated cake. “Now i really don’t want to eat that cake, because this artwork of yours is more than amazing”

Seungmin:

You were sick today, so you stayed at home to rest and get healthy again as soon as possible.But as time went by,you started to get really bored, so you decided to look up pictures from your boyfriend and decided to draw him.

Your bed was quickly filled with art supplies, your sketchbook on your thighs as you started to draw. You started with a simple sketch, but it soon turned into a detailed fanart and you even incorporated colors (what you usually don’t do).

After the piece was finally finished, you had to go to the toilet, so you put down the drawing on your bed and rushed into the bathroom. While you were away, Seungmin returned home, bringing your favorite take out food with him.

As he entered your bedroom, he saw the drawing of him on your bed and looked at it for a while. “Why did you print out a picture from me?”, Seungmin asked as you came back. “Huh...what?” You asked confused, until he pointed out your drawing. Your cheeks turned red and you started to giggle. “Minnie, that’s a drawing...”

Jeongin:

You came home from work and found your boyfriend in the living room drawing while talking to his fans in vlive. You gave him a small smile as a greeting and he immediately smiled back at you.

“Do you wanna draw with me?”, he asked while holding up a blank paper. You hesitated at first, but after he gave you a pouting-puppy-stare you gave in and took the paper from his hand, sitting dien behind the camera, facing Jeongin.

He continued to talk with his fans, peeking over to your drawing a few times, but he couldn’t really see what you were doing. Your mind was totally focused on drawing, you haven’t done that in a while,but now that you are drawing again, you remembered how much you loved it and how stress relieving it was.

“I’m done!”,you shout out after a while, holding your paper up to Jeongin, so that he can finally see your drawing,while waiting for his reaction. His jaw dropped open as he looked at the drawing. “Omg look guys!”, he stated while taking the paper from your hands and showing it to the fans,”I didn’t know that you could draw that well!!”. His eyes lingered over the drawing, appreciating every single detail in your drawing,while you were blushing at the cute reaction of your boyfriend.

🖤masterlist

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

13 Going on 30 pt. 3

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfic based off the movie 13 going on 30

Summary:  You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever

Warnings: Angst, Some suggestive content, But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also Peter has no powers in this fic, and some scenes will be changed to fit Peter and his personality and so I can be creative with it!)

Word Count: 2103

Peter thought it was safe to say that adult life sucked. And it wasn't just because he had run out of lucky charms this morning and had to settle for something called shredded wheat that was hidden away in the back of the panty. They were gross and tasted like cardboard, but Peter was all out of groceries so this would have to do.

 No nothing had seemed to go right for him after high school, he went to college, (even though he spent most of the time partying and goofing off), got the degree and yet he was barely scraping by. But he couldn't complain, all that much at least. He enjoyed his job and even if at times it was hard to earn money he wouldn't trade it for the world. He had fallen in love with photography in freshman year and decided to major in it. He had a minor in business too, something you had always told him would be useful as a backup. You were always practical like that, making sure he never completely fell over the edge. But he was hesitant to use it, because in using that minor it kinda meant he was giving up his dream. Giving in to the regular, soul crossing 9 to 5 job that everyone seemed to have. Peter was a dreamer at heart, in a way it would kill him to do anything other than photography.

He ate a spoonful of his cereal, making a face at the dull taste. Chewing, he glanced over at the stack of bills littering the counter. A lot of them were piling up, sooner or later he may have to give into the normalcy of a business job. Work had been slow lately and very boring. More often than not people hired him to take photos for their weddings or graduation, simple stuff. Stuff that had him bored out of his mind. But there were no clients currently so until he got one he had all the time in the world to himself. Which he loved at first but now it seems he was falling into a bit of a routine.

Peter aimlessly wandered around the kitchen lost in thought, his eyes drifted toward the collection of pictures pinned to his fridge. There was a picture of you on there, from before you had cut him out of your life. Peter set the bowl down on the counter and gently lifted the magnet to pull the picture off. It was a polaroid of you two, You had your arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, hugging him from behind. His hands were resting on yours, you both were smiling, teeth missing.

This picture was from the first day of first grade. Even back then Peter had had some feelings for you. And the way his eyes looked at you and not the camera was proof of this. Peter ran his thumb gently over the faded picture, for a moment he let himself wonder about how you were doing, before he snapped himself out of it. He put the picture back in its place and picked his bowl back up. It was too early to be having thoughts like that. 

Peter yawned and lazily plopped down on his worn out sofa, flipping through the channels on the tv. There was nothing on, signing he threw out the rest of his cereal, it had gotten soggy while he was busy reminiscing. He dropped the empty bowl into the sink, only adding to the collection of unwashed dishes. He glanced over at the phone and the soft blinking of the red light, indicating he had voicemails he hadn't listened to yet. He knew he was going to have to take her calls sooner or later but right now he didn't want to deal with her. 

He headed to the park and decided to do some laps on the path, running always helped him to relax and clear his head. He always got stares and shy smiles from the women that were jogging, he found out that apparently the silver hair that everyone made fun of him for was very attractive to women now. Something he used to use to his advantage to pick up the occasional hook up.

After that he went to go get groceries and then played on his pacman machine until lunchtime. He totally knew how to spend his time. He made his way over to the kitchen and looked at all the new groceries he had bought. Twinkies, instant ramen, mac and cheese, he picked up the box of lucky charms, weighing the option of eating it for lunch. He thought better of it and put it back on the shelf, he really needed to eat healthier, god knows sooner or later his metabolism was going to give out.

He picked up the phone and placed an order form the Chinese place a couple blocks away, ordering way more food than he needed. That way he wouldn't have to cook for the next few meals. Peter was inherently lazy and cooking was not something he was very good at. So when he would he just ordered takeout and leftovers so he could eat them later. He hung up the phone and walked over to the fridge and took out the milk, drinking it straight for the carton, while he was doing that he heard a loud knock on the door. “That was quick.” The knocking continued non stop over and over, “I’m coming hold on!” He yelled out as he shuffled to the door and opened it peering through the opening that the chain allowed. “You know it’s rude to-'' The words died in his throat. There was a woman standing at his door, wearing a coat over her night dress. 

*******************************************************

You hadn't been able to pay attention to the briefing your boss gave, your assistant came in about half way through and handed you a small slip of paper. She said that she had found Peter’s address like you had asked. You had pulled her into a hug, creating an awkward tension in the room. The meeting had seemed to go on forever, and for the life of you you couldn't even remember what it was about. As soon as the meeting ended you had bolted out the door, ignoring the calls of your boss and colleagues telling you that work wasn't over yet. 

You had found his apartment after randomly asking strangers in the street which way it was. You were at his door, the number on it hanging lopsided. You began to rapidly knock until the door was pulled open. “You know it’s rude to-” 

He paused as he saw you staring at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “You’re not the chinese delivery guy.” 

You felt your eyes widen as you took him in. “Peter?” You asked in a small voice. 

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you. “Yeah?”

 You let out a sigh of relief, smiling. “You’re tall.” You looked him up and down. “And you’re so handsome.”

His face turned red at your words. He didn't even know who this random woman was that was standing here, telling him he was handsome. He leaned against the doorframe, taking another drink out of the carton. “I’m sorry do- do I know you?” 

He watched your face fall. “You don’t know me?” 

“No?” He said, wiping the dribbling milk off his chin. Even after all these years his mannerisms were the same. 

“Wait! “ You said rushing forward. He jumped slightly at the sudden action. “It’s me, I saw you yesterday. Well I was thirteen yesterday so I guess it wasn't yesterday. Because now i'm old and I don't know where I am-” Peter watched you ramble on and slowly began to close the door. You continued on. “But you were there at my party-”

Peter paused, squinting his eyes and looking at you closely.. “(Y/n)?” He asked hesitantly, reopening the door as much as the chain would allow. “(y/n) (y/l/n)?” You smiled wide at him. 

“Yes! Yes it’s me!” 

Peter slammed the door shut in your face. You heard him unlock all the locks on his side of the door, when he was down he swung the door open. “Hey.” he gave you a small smile. You lunged at him and tackled him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He just stood there frozen, slowly moving his free hand up to awkwardly pat you on the back. “Come in I guess.” He muttered. 

You pulled back smiling at him. Even after all this time your sweet smile could make his heart skip a beat. You looked around his small apartment taking it all in. Peter did his best to kick discarded clothes into the closet, and keep you from seeing what a mess it was. You looked along his walls to see framed pictures of portraits and beautiful landscapes. “Are you still taking pictures?” You asked,

“Uh yeah, they pay the bills.” He quickly grabbed the pile of unpaid bills, stuffing them behind the couch cushion. “Usually.” He muttered under his breath. You were pacing around his apartment, in confused circles. He nervously rubbed the nape of his neck. “Hey, (y/n) I don't wanna be rude but why are you here?” 

“Petey I told you.” You said moving closer to him, he let out a little laugh. 

“Petey wow, no one has called me that in ages.” 

“Petey listen I came here cause something really weird is happening. Yesterday was my 13th birthday and then today I woke up and I’m this!” You said gesturing to your body. Peter tried his best not to look you up and down, he couldn't deny that you had grown up well. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. “And you’re that!” You said gesturing towards him. 

Peter looked down at himself self consciously. “Gee thanks. Do I really look that bad?” 

“No!” You quickly said. You felt yourself blush as you looked him over. His hair was tousled and messy, he was wearing an oversized  pink floyd crop top and from the looks of the hem it seemed he had made it himself. You watched the veins in his hands ripple and his arms slightly flex. “Uh you,” You let out an embarrassed laugh. “You actually look really good, like really good.” 

Peter flushed at your words and turned away so you couldn't see his blushing face. “Wow.” He whispered under his breath, he lifted a hand up to his face, doing his best to hide the smile that was forming. He turned back to and regained a serious composure. “Are you sure you're okay (y/n).” He took in your mismatched outfit and broken heel. “Are you high? Have you been smoking pot? Doing drugs, cause if you are I’m not judging as long as it’s just weed or something. Cause I mean I get it, I get stressed to and every now and then need-”

“No, no.” You said shaking your head rapidly. “Wait do you do-,” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Do you do drugs Peter?” 

“No! No.” Peter shrugged. “Ehhh well not drugs, just weed.” He defended. But looking at your judgmental eyes he quickly continued on. “And I don’t, well I don’t that much any more. It was in college you know how it was.” 

“Actually I don’t.” You moved even closer to him. “Look, I was sitting in my closet, and I- I skipped everything. I can’t- I can’t remember my life.” Your eyes were watery as you started back at him. His heart ached seeing you like this. You continued on. ‘You need to help me remember my life.” 

At this he scoffed, and pretended to look around as if you were referring to someone else. “Me?” he said pointing to himself, letting out an airy laugh. “That’s rich.”

“What why?” He let out another laugh at your response, this one was dry. He looked at your face and saw that you weren’t kidding, you were serious about asking for his help.

“(Y/n) I can’t.” He was in disbelief, did you seriously have no idea what you had done to him. “I don’t know anything about you. I haven't seen you since high school.” Your face morphed into one of confusion. 

“What?” 

What he said next pained him, and he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes. “(Y/n). We’re not friends anymore.”

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. “What?”

Taglist:

@lets-imagine-fanfics @steamboat-local @weasly-twin-simp

Let me know if you want to be added!!

[bostongirl13]

New Dodger Photo part 6 -  Mountain Cabin

Summary: All slowly starts to go crazy around you and your panic attacks and anxieties begin to make themselves felt. So Chris comes up with the idea to calm your body and mind.

Warnings: AGE GAP, a lot fluff (probably a little too much), soft smut, mistakes

Words:1.6k+

Masterlist

Series masterlist 

The time for your exams was approaching, and your fears and panic attacks were starting to take hold. And as if that was not enough, Chris was about to fly to LA and start working on a new film. A time of challenges and sacrifices awaited you, but you were aware of it by agreeing to be the actor's girlfriend.

Chris started to notice that something bad was happening to you and the worst that he felt helpless and guilty. Everything was starting to be on your head. So he had an idea that could help you both relax a bit and get away from reality. So while you were in class, he made a few calls to prepare a surprise. Then he packed both of you, making it so that you wouldn't get suspicious.

The next day you were off work and school, so you wanted to sleep a little longer than usual. Your wonderful fiancé had other plans, however, and so at 4 am you were sitting in the car, mad at him for waking you up at such a non-human hour and not saying where he was taking you. Dodger slept soundly in the backseat without worrying about anything, while you, wrapped in a blanket and with your arms crossed over your chest, wanted to force Chris to say the slightest word of explanation.

"Come on, Princess. You can't be mad at me all trip "

“I can and will. It's 4 AM Christopher ?! I slept for two hours thanks to you because I would like to remind you that someone wanted to have sex in the shower, which later turned into several rounds in the bathroom and bedroom. And now you drag me, who knows where and for what. So I'll be mad at you as long as you don't tell me what's going on. ” you practically snarled at him like Dodger when he was unhappy with his dad's teasing and turned your head to the window.

Somehow you managed to fall asleep and when you woke up it was already light and the landscape behind the car window began to change suddenly. The terrain was more mountainous, the trees grew closer together, suggesting you had entered the forest, and everything was covered with a white down snow duvet. You straightened up in the seat, emitting a soft wow and opening your eyes wider as a beautiful view of the mountains emerged from behind the trees.

"Do you like it?"

"Very" you couldn't take your eyes off the sight of "Are you taking me to a cabin in the mountains?" you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.

"Yup" answered, they accentuate the last letter in his distinctive way.

You never thought you would feel like the fanfiction you secretly read when Chris was working, and you had a moment to spare and didn't want to disturb him. You had the phrase that you were dreaming and someone would wake you up, or it would turn out to be a joke. But it all turned out to be true when you suddenly parked next to a wooden house by a lake situated in a small valley. You were surrounded by mountains, and the frozen surface of the lake reflected the sun, giving you a breathtaking view.

"Do you like it?" you felt a man's strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you against your hard chest.

“Very much what I did that you took me here. Or what did you do, Mr. Evans, ”you turned to be face to face with him.

"And does the fact that I love you very much and wanted to spend some time with my future wife before everything goes crazy around us count for a sufficient reason?"

You couldn't hold back the tears that started to flow down your cheeks. "What I did to deserve you."

Chris smiled and wiped the saltwater drops from your face.

"The question is what have I done to deserve you?" He leaned in and kissed you on the lips with all the love he had for you.

After you packed your bags home (which also surprised you that Chris had both of you packed and he knew exactly what you would take for such a trip) you went to a nearby town for breakfast and then for a walk. When it got dark, Chris lit the fireplace and you prepared cheese and wine. You both sat on the blankets in front of the fireplace and sat in complete silence, enjoying your presence. You didn't need much to be happy. It was enough that you had each other, in a warm cottage and the peace surrounding you.

You felt Chris starting to place gentle kisses against your neck. You had no intention of protesting, you smiled eagerly as you tilted your head to ease his access. The sweet kisses and the gentle tickle of his chin started to light a fire in you.

He wrapped his arms around you in a moment and you let my head rest upon his chest. All your thoughts stopped as if your heart took over from your head when you were close. Next, he would squeeze as if he needed to check you were really there with him, really there and really real... and you was, body and soul. You doubt anyone else ever felt the way you do about being in his arms.

You closed your eyes allowing you to surrender to the feeling. The warmth of his hands under your sweater and the chimney puff made you feel your body on fire.

"You don't have a bra. Naughty girl," Chris whispered to your ear in a voice that sent shivers down your body.

Soon after, you were both lying naked in front of the fireplace, his cock deep inside you, your bodies close not allowing the slightest break, hands clasped above your head, and your bodies illuminated only by the light from the fire.

"I love you, princess," Chris whispered, never taking his eyes off your green eyes, with which tears were shedding as a result of how well you felt and how happy you were.

His slow movements did not allow you to be quiet. Moans came out of your mouth, which for Chris was the most beautiful sound in the world. He started kissing you with an open kiss, joining your tongues in an erotic and passionate dance. You did so much at once, you knew you wouldn't last long. Chris smiled and broke off the kiss.

"I can feel you squeezing me. You're close. Don't hold back. Come on for me. Come on baby, I've got you."

You wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him as low as possible and to keep him as deep in you as possible. After a while, your whole body trembled and you were overcome by an orgasm, you moaned his name, and tears streaming down your cheeks. Not even for a second, you didn't take your eyes off his blue pupils, which were now dark with lust. You've never had an orgasm like this before, and you've had a lot of them thanks to Chris's skill in bed. Shortly after that, he growled and you felt him cum inside you painting your walls and filling you. You both lay motionless trying to get off your peak. You braided your fingers through his hair as Chris had his face tucked in the crease of your neck.

"I love you, I love you as I have never loved anyone," you said kissing his shoulder.

"I love you too. You are the one for me, Princess"

The next morning

You woke up naked in soft white sheets, alone. You stretched and you weren't even surprised when you smelled coffee and fried eggs. You got up and put on one of Chris's sweaters, pulling the fabric up to your nose for a moment and inhaling his scent.

"Good morning"

"Good morning handsome" you kissed him and sat down in the chair.

"I'm sorry you didn't wake up with me, but I wanted to make us breakfast in bed."

"I'm not angry. I don't think any woman would be angry about it if she found what I did after entering the kitchen." you smiled looking at the pancakes and scrambled eggs on the table, plus sliced ​​fruit and hot coffee.

Suddenly you heard a bark. You both turned to see Dodger sticking his head out between the sockets of the stair railing. You started laughing when the pooch had a sad face saying you left me alone in the evening and you didn't take care of me. Chris of course took a picture and posted it on his Instagram then called him for breakfast.

You felt like in a fairy tale or a dream. And you wouldn't give it up for anything in the world, because you knew that nowhere you will find the happiness Chris gave you and the way you felt being with him. Not only were you the one for him, but he was also the one for you. Age difference? Fuck it. You loved each other and you made each other happy, so nothing to anyone. It wasn't just your life anymore, it was yours and you knew that with a man like Chris, you would walk through life with the most supportive and wonderful person in the world by your side. You were happy and, above all, for the first time in your life, you felt that anything was possible.

******************************

Tags:  @patzammit @ivettt​ @mostannoyingbillioner @speechlessxx​ @angrybirdcr​ @ozarkthedog​​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @sweetflowerdreams​ 

[writingforfunsies]

The Demon Brothers: Creative Outlets Headcanons

they are all immortals and when you've lived longer than you can remember, you're bound to find a creative outlet to destress, alleviate boredom, or you know, to just have fun!

Lucifer

He’s a busy demon. If he’s not working, he's sleeping, or cleaning up one of his brother’s messes, so he doesn't have that much time to just relax and explore his creative sides. 

That said though, it doesn’t mean he has no hobbies at all.

He plays the piano. He used to play it every morning, back when he’s still in the Celestial Realm, when he’d taught Lilith how to play the piano every morning and she’d sat besides him as his fingers moved across the keys slower so she could copy him. 

Nowadays, playing the piano feels very nostalgic and bittersweet, but you’ll hear soft, bittersweet melodies drift from the music room once in a while.

He also composes his own music, but that's an even rarer occurrence. The last time he created a new music piece was centuries ago. 

(Ever since MC came to Devildom though, he's been itching to write music for them.)

Practices calligraphy for fun. He has a whole set of brushes and ink and lettering pens. His handwriting is already beautiful but his calligraphy is even more amazing.

Another thing he does is gardening. He's got a great eye for landscape architecture, he's the reason why the house's backyard is pretty. 

He plants decorative plants and likes to cross breed flowers so the House of Lamentation's backyard is full of pretty shrubs and unfamiliar flowers. 

He is usually joined by Beel as he is the other brother that finds gardening very relaxing.

Mammon

He definitely shows his creativity by coming up with the most absurdly brilliant, out-of-the-box, original schemes to make money.

Mammon can draw, like really good. His drawings are very realistic. He prefers to use traditional media: charcoal pencils, graphite sticks, blenders, erasers, drawing pens, brushes, and maybe some watercolors.

He usually does architecture sketches.

But if you check his drawers, you’ll find several sketchbooks of his brothers in different candid poses. MC alone has taken up three whole sketchbooks. Mammon makes sure MC doesn’t see those sketches though.

Crashes Asmo’s Art Day regularly, claiming that if Levi’s invited then the Great Mammon should be too. Asmo and Levi always complains but they let him stay anyway.

Mammon also has a natural talent on jewelry making and metalwork. He makes jewelry from buttons, beads, pearls, diamonds, and crystals. From small pendants to elaborate neckpieces, simple anklets to ornate hairpins. 

Mammon has made metal bookmarks for Satan because the book lover always misplaces his bookmarks or destroys them in fits of rage when he doesn't like a book's ending.

He sculpts wood. It takes him months to finish one small piece because he only does it when he's really, really bored, he prefers to make his much more profitable jewelry. 

He keeps all of his sculptures in his room, small and detailed pieces of wood engraving of Devildom native animals lining up on one of the shelves.

Leviathan

This is canon but he draws! He doesn't think he's very good at it, but he really enjoys it. 

Unlike Mammon who likes to draw with his charcoal pencils and drawing pens, Levi prefers to draw digitally. He still switch to traditional media now and then though.

Has a monthly scheduled “Art Day” where he and Asmo hang out together, Levi draws with his sketchbook or his drawing tablet and Asmo paints. They basically just gossip and hype each other’s art.

Dabbles in making short animations but feels like it’s just not something for him. He makes short comics though.

He wants to be able to make his own video game someday though. Maybe after he learns programming.

He makes the most detailed cosplay outfits for his own cosplays. He sews really good and patches his brothers clothes when they ask. Where do you think Asmo learns how to sew his own clothes from?

Really good at dancing and he really likes it too. He's a natural at it. From the most intricate traditional Devildom dances to freestyle dancing. He can make new moves on the spot and can copy any moves from one look.

He’s a shy baby though, you’ll rarely see him dance when he’s sober.

Except when he’s playing DDR (Demons Dance Revolution). Then, it’s like he’s the most confident demon in Devildom.

Satan

Satan writes poetry when inspiration strikes him. He has also written short stories but he always comes back to creating beautiful poems. He’s got a way with words.

Photography is something he has only recently taken interest in but he has a great eye for taking breathtaking shots. 

Has become the family’s go-to photographer.

“Satan, take a picture of me and Mammon!” “Satan, take our picture, quick!” “Satan, help me get a picture for my Devilgram!”

He’s the reason Asmo’s Devilgram pictures always look like they’re taken professionally in a photo studio or something.

Satan loves art, likes to stroll through museums and stare at paintings for hours, but has little talent in creating them. Even so, he still likes to paint even if he's not good at it. 

Sometimes he just wants to slap paint on a canvas and make a colorful mess. It's fun. 

He joins Art Day every other month.

Another thing he does is knitting! It relaxes him. It gives him something to focus at when he's angry (um, angrier than usual), just to give his hands something to do that doesn't involve breaking anything. The simple patterns he makes are easy enough that they don't frustrate him. 

Rarely ever finishes his knitting though, you'll just find this 5 meters long knitted fabric in one corner of his room with the ends coming undone because he calms himself down enough to stop knitting.

Asmodeus

Regularly designs, cut, and sew his own clothes. 

Has a lot of sketchbooks full of drawings of flowy dresses and stylish coats and many aesthetically pleasing shirts. 

He has started his own clothing line and sometimes collaborate with Majolish. 

But for the most part, he designs clothes for himself and himself only, he doesn't want anyone else to wear clothes as fabolous as his.

Nail art? Nail art. 

Asmo paints all of the brothers nails and sometimes he'll persuade one of them to let him do a complete manicure, with glitter polish and shiny studs and all. 

Yes, even Lucifer. You just never see the results because Lucifer wears his gloves almost all the time.

Asmo creates beautiful makeup art. He doesn't really like a lot of makeup on his own face though, so his brothers' faces are his canvases.

He also has a great eye for interior decorating and flower arranging. He restyles his room every month.

Not many people know it but he paints. And he's very good at it. He has done a painting of each brother, the paintings can be seen on the walls of the House of Lamentation's hallways. 

Art Day with Levi (and sometimes Satan or Belphie) is spent with him in front of canvases, chatting with his brothers, paint splatters on his hands. It's the only day that he doesn't mind looking a little messy.

Beelzebub

He cooks, of course!  And bakes too!

It's one of the times he’s willing to wait to eat because cooking the ingredients first rather than just straight up eating them will make the foods taste better. 

Half of the food in the kitchen are his creations. Anything he can make on his own from scratch, he will; jams, ice cream, sauces, juices, bread, chips, etc. 

Likes to experiment and always do something different than the original recipes. 

He garnishes his cooking like it’s something you order from a five star restaurant.

Beel is another demon who has a green thumb. He likes taking care of plants and doesn't mind getting a bit dirty doing it so gardening is another hobby of his. 

If Lucifer plants ornamental plants, Beel grows useful plants like herbs and vegetables and small fruits. He's also good at topiary.

Always has an idea for a DIY project. 

His creations is scattered all over the House of Lamentation. Belphie's drawer divider is made out of yogurt cups. Broken drawer knobs recycled into Asmo's jewelry organizer. The coat rack. The bathroom towel holder. 

Even Lucifer's hanging Demonus rack is handmade by Beel when he's bored one weekend, with Mammon's help for the engraving decorations along the sides of the rack. Beel's got a bit of Bob the Builder in him.

He is very good at singing. His voice is clear and he has a broad vocal range. Has been caught unconsciously humming in class many times.

Has definitely sang Belphie to sleep.

Belphegor

Does his pranks counts as a creative outlet though?😂 Between him and Satan, Belphie's ideas are the most creative and out of the box, resulting on some of the best pranks they did.

Belphie does origami. It's relaxing, easy enough to learn, and doesn't take much effort and energy to do it. 

Has stacks of origami papers in his room: standard origami paper, foil paper, traditional Washi ones, the leather-like Momigami paper, all kinds of paper. 

He especially loves to make little origami stars and keeps them in glass jars in his room.

Belphie also has adult coloring books. 

And kids coloring books.

Coloring is relaxing to him. It's very calming to just lay down and fills a page with pretty colors for a while. It's not a tiring way to destress, he can color without moving from his bed, and it feels satisfying when he finishes a whole page. 

He sometimes joins Art Day if he's not too lazy to move. Still prefers to color alone where it's quiet though.

He also journals. It's another thing he can do that is inexpensive and not energy consuming. He writes about anything that comes to his mind, his thoughts, his ideas, memories. 

Definitely keeps a dream journal.

Also I headcanon that as the Avatar of Sloth, sleep and dreams are some of the things he can manipulate. He enjoys creating dreams; the worldbuilding, the story, the details. He can be really creative when it comes to making them, spinning the most vivid and imaginative dreams. 

They’re not necessarily good dreams though. After all, he is still a demon, his dreams will most likely mess up your mind than make you smile in your sleep.