#your words are clay that you are still shaping into a lovely vase

[pocketramblr]

Not feeling very good about my writing because of an incident that happened earlier today. Any tips on what I can do to avoid feeling like this again? -Aster

I have three suggestions, depending on what type of self-talk resonates most with you. All of them take some time and effort, but they've helped me. Forming the habit is probably going to be the best way to reduce how often you feel like this

First, look at some of your old writing. Something you haven't looked at in a while, so your eyes can be fresh. Read the work, just to see what it's like. To see what you feel.

1. If you find you do really like it, then tell yourself "Hell yeah, it's great. And it's so good because I'm kickass at this. Women will want me, fish will fear me." Perhaps you will feel an urge to keep writing it! If so, great, ride the wave.

2. More likely, in my experience, you'll want to but will either have no idea or will feel inadequate to. If so, tell yourself "no, I'm the baddie who wrote it so far. Maybe I don't have the words right now, but it's all in my genius incubating until it's ready." Then, if you still don't feel like writing a bit more, bullet point just a couple ideas under it instead, like outlining or a part in the future you're looking forward to

3, if you like it, but it's not good enough for you to talk it up, or if you feel like it's all bad and you hate it, take a deep breath. Read it again. What exactly about it do you not like, what exactly isn't working for you? Bullet point under what's wrong, and how to fix it. If you don't know how to fix it, leave a space for it for now. Then, pat yourself on the back. You've grown since you wrote that, you know better, you've learned. This is a sign of progress! You have improved since you wrote this, and you will continue to improve, and you will write something you are happy with in time.

[afyrian]

ch. 8 - love, unadulterated love m.list

    a small vase rests on your counter, your handiwork written all over it. the slight grooves where your fingers ran alongside it, the small signature in the bottom of the vase. even the colors feel reminiscent of your pieces. the warm oranges and browns swirling around the vase in a peaceful motion. 

  you hold a bouquet of flowers from calico blooms (exchanged for a couple of plates with flowers carved in them), water droplets covering your fingers. staring at the red tulips within, the yellow roses sprinkled without. even the blue forget-me-nots add a drop of contrast. each flower picked with a special message in mind.

  love. unadulterated love. from each petal in the tulips slightly opening to each thorn pulled from the roses. every step of the progress led you to staring at it in the vase. a few seem out of place, your hands moving them around in an attempt to perfect the look of it all together. biting your lip, you shake your head, whispering to yourself, "it's just not right..."

  maybe you should be focusing on making sure everything else is ready for his arrival, but your eyes can't seem to leave them. your hand grabbing another flower to move around. in creating them, you wanted to subconsciously tell him that you've felt something. that something must be between the two of you. especially because the words just won't leave your lips. 

  so, it has to be perfect... everything down to the last drop of water on a petal. setting the last flower in, you can feel the petals brush against your hand, the soft touch only reminding you of osamu. of his kindness.. the softness that he harbors. you smile to yourself, shaking your head slightly. "if kiyoko would see me now..." holding back a smile, you head for the front door.

  flipping the sign to closed, the sun still shines brightly into the room. it covers the floor in a fun game of twister, the rack of ceramics twisting and manipulating the light into odd shapes. taking in a deep breath, you take a step towards the counter, hoping to sit for a moment and ground yourself. 

  however, you don't have much time as a light knock rattles the door, a soft voice on the other side, "y/n?"

  turning back around, you can see him through the glass. he's holding a woven basket in one arm, the other resting by his side. you grab a hold of the door's handle, pulling it open so you can fully see him. leaning against the side of the door, foot resting over the other, "hi... again."

  "hello, you look beautiful today. well, everyday, of course-" osamu's eyes search between yours, a small smile growing on his face, a genuine rush of heat covering his cheeks, "but, uh, i brought refreshments."

  holding up the basket, he shrugs, watching as you smile back. there's always been something about him, even in your sullen grudge and unsure feelings, you've always known there'd be something about him. the way he looks at you, it's nothing like you've ever seen before.

  "thank you, and it's nice to see your hair, it suits you," you reach up, instinctively ruffling it up, like you've known him for forever. like it's something that you've always done in an affectionate manner. 

  stepping back, you look down, mentally cursing yourself for doing such a thing. although, you can’t help but peek at the sunlight waving through the stray hairs. the way it lights up his dark hair in a way that you’ve never quite seen before. it’s beautiful, he’s wonderfully beautiful. “uh, so i already have the clay on the wheel, it’s ready for some molding,” you grab an apron for him, holding it as he sets the basket down.

  “i’m very worried about messing this up,” he looks back at you, taking the strap on his apron and resting it on his neck.

  taking the back string, he skillfully ties it himself, the way his biceps move under his shirt sends your heart rate soaring. looking away, you head over to the wheel. “you’re going to do great, i honestly don’t think you could do anything wrong,” you joke, grabbing an extra stool and setting it by the one he’ll be working on. 

  “thank you, y/n, it means a lot,” osamu joins you, sitting down in the stool, his legs spreading outward so he can move closer to the wheel.

  joining him, you begin to explain the process. you start by handing him a bucket, the both of you getting your hands wet. grabbing his hands, you guide them around the ball. maneuvering his fingers and palms so that they’re in the perfect position. his hands are rather soft within yours. osamu’s eyes constantly flickering towards you as you explain each step, from the way his thumbs lay on top to pushing it upwards to make a cone shape. 

  he moves diligently, eyes narrowing as he tries to keep up with your instructions. when he brings it back down, you grab his thumbs, pressing them into the center, “so you’ll push down here to make a divot. wait, here, let me show you.”

  standing up, you stand next to him, leaning down slightly. taking his hands in yours, you lay your thumbs over his. pushing his down, he pushes down into the clay, his heart beating quickly against your bicep. you look over at him, wanting to congratulate him on doing so well. however, when you do, he’s already looking at you. 

  his eyes glow in the sunlight, your gaze unable to stop itself from peering at his lips. the little space between you, the way your heart is beating quicker than you’ve ever experienced. “osamu-”

  “yeah?”

  “could i kiss you?”

  “absolutely…” his head leans towards you, slightly tilted as his lips meet yours.

  and you can finally taste the food on his lips. the rice and pork mixture that you wonder is in the picnic basket. but ultimately, you can feel the warmth that you’ve always known he’s had. the way his nose brushes against yours, the softness of his lips matching perfectly with his hands.

  it’s habit, but your hands make their way to his face, your thumb running over cheekbone. you feel goosebumps run along your arms. even your feet cross at the ankles, moving slightly as he smiles into the kiss. “wow,” you whisper, leaning back slightly, forehead resting against his.

  “wow’s a good word,” he breaths heavily, foot moving off of the pedal, “but did you have to put clay on my face?”

  laughing, you lean your head back, moving your hands away from his face. biting your lip, you can see the slip covering his cheeks and chin, even touching his nose. he shakes his head, leaning forward again, “no, no, i do like your hands there.”

a/n: next will be the epilogue :D

taglist: @causenessus @osakis-gf @eggyrocks @brkfclub @marisabel14

@bbybibi @etoiile @miyamoratsumuu @girlokarina @gsyche

@cherrypieyourface @zephestia @acowboykisser @whosmarjj @gumiiiiezzzz

@guitarstringed-scars @19calicos @savemebrazilhinata @phoenix-eclipses @theycallmenanamisgirl

@softpia @certaindreampost

[goatyuuji]

Must reads:

i’d like the sun to set with you by @chuuyasoup (T, 8.8k)

What changes is this:

Geto Suguru does not say, how arrogant. He does not say, kill me if you want, there’s meaning in that too. He does not look at Gojo Satoru with unfamiliar indifference and he does not assume that he won’t understand.

Or, Suguru extends an offer on that day in Shinjuku. Satoru accepts it.

愛のある場所; river of light (that brings me to you) by cosmichorrour (T, 66k)

A lesson in love is a lesson in swimming. Except for Suguru, it's getting dropped into the deep end with the tide licking at his neck, no kickboard or life preserver keeping him afloat.

(Or: This is how Satoru finds the ocean.)

Caesura by cielelyse (M, 85.5k)

The first time they meet, Suguru and Satoru do not like each other. Arrogant, cocky, insufferable, they think. Despite the smirks Shoko gives Suguru, or the sighs Yaga gives Satoru, they do not like each other.

Until a mission changes that.

paper cuts by HamsterQinghua (T, 36k)

“Hey,” he starts. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Understatement of the century. “My name’s Suguru Geto, what’s yours?” It’s a question asked purely for formalities, and he’s sure Gojo knows that, but he’s still unprepared for the other’s answer.

“Your mom,” Gojo drawls out, and Suguru realizes he’s starting to see why people want this kid dead.

or, Suguru is a contract killer. his final target is Satoru Gojo. this isn't a problem until it is.

The Traveller's Song by No_Ir (E, 23k)

When it comes, the death of summer is vapid and quiet. It tastes like stale water and smells like memories gone bad in the heat. Nothing mourns it and the air is speckled with bits of seawater that cling to the dampness on the back of his neck.

Crickets chirp throughout the night and the bed is too warm to sleep in, so he buries his face into pillows that smell like dust and salt and ignores the stabbing behind his eyes till he can feel the irritating warmth of another day on his back.

I miss the sea, he thinks, staring at the familiar outline of the window, palm resting on the friend-shaped dent on his bed. Exhaustion drapes itself over his shoulders and sweat beads like pearls at the roots of his hair.

I miss the sea like I miss my friend

Punishment For A Monster by @duckiemimi (T, 8.1k)

“Yeah! Oh, my name is Gojo Satoru, by the way.” He hides the hurt behind his teeth, his grin wide and friendly. He thought he’d only have to introduce himself once to someone he called his best friend. It’s strange to repeat words from more than a decade ago to the same person. “You can call me Satoru.” He hopes he calls him Satoru.

“I’m Geto,” he says back. You were Suguru to me, Gojo thinks. “Nice to meet you, Satoru.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” He leans against the wall beside him, tries to look nonchalant as he does. “So, do you come here often?”

Geto thinks Gojo is just a lonely guy who wants friends. Gojo just wants to know if he remembers him, even just a little bit.

bang bang, kiss kiss by bunkuto (E, 12.7k)

Suguru brings men home and Satoru wonders if, judging by the pangs in his chest and the sudden overwhelming urge to punt these hookups into the sun, he’s homophobic. They figure things out slowly.

Puppet On A String by @killjoyproductions (E, 6.8k)

Huh,” he muses. “Are you… saving yourself for marriage?”

“Nope.”

“Are you asexual?”

Satoru shakes his head. “I’m not asexual, just a virgin.”

Golden hour by damiselart (E, 38.6k)

the one in which Satoru doesn't run away at sunrise and has an existential crisis over morning sex.

love is all I ever yearned for; not this affection carved in stone by getoswrongs (juyang) (T, 15k)

“You’re a menace,” Suguru mutters.

“You do this all the time? Making clay dicks before you turn them into bowls and vases? And it took some loser dude you met at age 27 for you to realize you like dick?”

--

Suguru is a potter and Satoru is in love.

smile like brass by @chuuyasoup (T, 15k)

Upon arriving at the scene, it’s hard to say whether turning up just five minutes earlier would have made much of a difference.

As it stands, there is a lot of blood. Too much blood to be explained away, and too many strong residuals to be traced back to anyone other than Satoru.

Or, Suguru arrives at the Time Vessel Association hideout a little too late. This changes things.

[skwzks]

First Meeting

Hiroki Dan x Female Reader

word counts: 630 words

Indonesian version

You met Hiroki Dan when you went shopping for pottery. You usually go to the nearest shop, but since it was closed, you decided to go to the one in the middle of the city. There's where you meet him.

When your eyes laid on that one figure in the front of the clay shelf, you know he think hard about what kind to pick. The unknown man look very handsome, he also tall and has solid body, his black hair neatly combed, even his side profile looks perfect. Without you noticing, you stared at him too long.

"Can i help you?" He asked, making you flinched slightly before turning your gaze the other way and back to him.

"Eh.. no no. Sorry." You apologized nervously then walked towards him since he was standing in front of the clay shelf. He nodded once before looking back at the clay in front of him.

As with you, you did the same with the man beside you. You also think before choosing the right clay for you to take home.

"You look like an expert." He said. And again you flinched, making the man chuckle. "And also look like you're easily surprised." He muttered.

You laugh awkwardly. "Yeah, i got scared easily, a little bit. And no, im not an expert." You answered lowly.

"Still, you look like one." He said without looking at ylu. His eyes were focused on the clay shelf.

"Can i ask you a question?"

This is where he fully looked at you. And for the love of God, he looks like a model. You can stare at his face for 69 hours without getting bored.

You nodded slowly, waiting for the question he wanted to ask.

"You see, im still new with pottery. I did already make a couple things. The thing is, it didn't stay for long, it breaks apart. My question is, what is a good kind of clay?" You listen intently then stared at the clay shelf. "It depends on what you want to make."

"Oh, i wanna make a vase for my mushroom. You see, i just found this new mushroom, and I wanna rise it." You smiled a little at his explanation. He looks like a fun guy.

"I recommend earthenware clay. Its good for vases and stuff like that."

The man turned his face to the shelf, and his eyes quickly caught the earthenware clay. He took it, then looked at you and smiled.

"Thank you. I will be buying this." He said as be picked it up. "Your a nice lady. Im Hiroki Dan." He bends his body 30 degrees, making you quickly bend your body too. "Im (name). Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, (name). Now that i got the stuff that i need, im gonna get going." He took a step away from where you were standing.

"Hiroki… Dan." Your voice made him stop on his track. Hiroki turned to look at you and raised both of his eyebrows. "Hm?"

You blinked a few times before finally realized your mouth was calling the man's name. "Ah, im sorry for calling all of a sudden." You scratch the back of your head. "I just wanna say that… uh.. if you wanna know more about uhm.. pottery, you can ask.. me."

"So you are an expert."

"I'm not."

Hiroki laughed again then walked back towards you before taking out his phone. "Type your number here." You swiftly typed your number then handed the phone back to him.

"Well then, I'll see you around, (name)." He smiled.

"Hm. See you around." You smiled back.

That was 2 years ago. Now you got yourself a homicide investigator boyfriend and a new weirdly shaped pottery every 3 days.

2023 © all works belong to skwzks — do not repost or plagiarize my work on any platform

[softmakoharus]

makoharu fanfiction - a perfect set

This is the piece I wrote for the MakoHaru zine, Eternal Future! Please check out Twitter@makoharuzine for more information about the zine and how you can get a copy of your own.

-----

Title: A Perfect Set

Summary: Following their retirement from the professional world of swimming, Haru and Makoto settle into life together with their two cats, a home in a new city, and a love for ceramics.

Words: 2082 Rating: General Audiences Additional tags: Fluff, Married Couple Link: AO3

-----

Pottery is a curious thing.

Unexpectedly, Haru has come to love the feel of clay in his hands. It’s different from water, of course, rigid and resistant, though soft and malleable before it’s fired. It’s the very earth itself, and Haru likes that, too.

There is, however, a chaos and unpredictability to the process, and he’s still learning to accept this. A vase standing tall and strong can suddenly collapse into a pile on the wheel. A mug crafted so steadfastly can explode in the kiln. A glaze selected with confidence can create a color that had not been part of the plan at all.

Haru wraps his hands around the cylinder spinning quickly on the wheel in front of him as he finishes molding its shape, finally satisfied with the thickness of the walls. Its weight should match the other three cups sitting on the table beside him.

The wheel slows to a stop, and Haru carefully slides the thin wire under this fourth and final piece in the set to release it from the base. Now that it’s in line beside the others, it’s noticeably a little taller. Even though these cups are simply a gift for a friend, Haru can’t help but strive for perfection and considers throwing it again.

Across the yard from where Haru sits in his workshop, a figure in the kitchen window catches his eye to distract him from contemplating any further, at least for the time being. As usual, time has passed quickly into the afternoon, and Makoto has just returned home from work. Haru knows Makoto would insist that Haru’s creations don’t all have to be perfect, that those imperfections themselves can add beauty, too.

Haru smiles watching as Makoto bends down and gets back up, his eyes not leaving the floor. He’s definitely greeting their two cats. Feeling Haru’s gaze, or maybe just knowing he’d be out in the workshop, Makoto looks out the window.

I'm home, Haru-chan, he says with a cheerful smile and a wave.

Haru lifts his hand to return the silent greeting: Welcome home, Makoto.

continue reading on AO3 >>

[secretjeon]

hey! hope you're having a great day. i saw that you're taking requests and have a very specific scenario that's been living on my mind rent free with tasm!peter. so basically he is into pottery, he likes to make mugs and cute shit for the gf and one day she asks him to teach her? cute, fluffy, wholesome, his hands on her hands shaping the clay kinda vibe, the lot (can add a bit -or a lot- of spice too iykwim). anyway, hope you like this and feel free to use it or ignore it! xo

Teach Me; Peter Parker

pairing: Andrew!Peter Parker x fem!reader

warnings: fluffff, cursing, a little smutty ;) thigh riding, nipple sucking, praise kink, handjob, cum eating, uses of the nicknames pretty girl, princess, ig it’s kinda messy because they were messing with clay(?) but its never directly stated

this was too fucking cute to not write ty for requesting this 😭 i feel like i accidentally made it more smutty than fluffy im so sorry (also lowkey stole that one scene from ghost) believe it or not, this is the first time i’ve written smut (or close to it) so i hope i did ok and i hope you like it! 😭

Your boyfriend had been into pottery for as long as you can remember. You couldn’t even count how many things you had around the house that had been handmade from Peter himself, mugs, bowls, vases, an adorable teapot that looked like an elephant that you had no idea how he made so perfect. Peter absolutely loved gifting you with items that he made, and you absolutely adored the gifts you got, knowing how proud he was of himself and how long he worked on it, and how they came out looking like absolute masterpieces.

You were currently over at his place, staying for a few nights, admiring him while he was making what he said was gonna be ‘matching mugs with each other’ as you both liked to have coffee or hot chocolate dates often. He was wearing an old band t-shirt he didn’t care about much and some loose pants while you were only wearing one of his shirts, having only panties underneath as you didn’t think any of your clothes were very comfy at the moment. It was quite a sight to look at, how focused he was on making it perfect, the way his fingers moved across the clay so carefully, you were ashamed (not really) that it was turning you on. You also thought it was an amazing art, wishing you could make pottery as beautiful as Peter did, which is when you got an idea.

“Pete,” He looked up at you while still moving his fingers around the clay. “Do you think you could maybe teach me how to make pottery?” He brightened up at the words he had heard, always secretly hoping you’d ask one day. “Of course Y/N, come here.” He gestured with his head downwards, implying for you to come sit on his lap. You got up and went to sit on him, careful for his clay covered hands not to touch your clothes, though you knew they would probably end up dirty anyways.

“Okay, so all you do is put your hands like this,” He put his chin on your shoulder and his hands over yours, carefully guiding them onto the messy blob that would eventually be a mug. “And just move them like this.” Putting his fingers between yours, moving them together and helping you shape the clay. It was more fun than you thought, but you figured a part of it was because you were doing it together. You enjoyed spending time with Pete, and this was definitely something the both of you were having fun with. You were doing pretty well so far, the mug shape coming together a little more, slowly but surely.

“You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” You felt yourself get hot, shifting around in his lap, slowly getting wet from his words and the way his fingers were moving with yours. “Well you’re definitely good with your fingers, Peter. This is way worse than how yours look.”

“Come on, you of all people should know I’m good with my fingers, Y/N.” He joked while your eyes widened, realizing what he meant. You pressed your thighs together, trying to cause some relief. He laced his fingers with yours, slowly taking them off of the badly unfinished mug and bringing them to your thighs, forcing them to open.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how wet you were getting, sweetheart?” Fuck, you had forgotten about his spidey senses, and how he could definitely tell when you were aroused, recalling the moments he had known even when he was across the room from you. “Turn around,” he demanded. You shifted on his lap so you were facing him and straddling his thigh, while he was looking at you with darkened eyes, learning that he was now just as turned on as you were.

“Go on pretty girl, use my thigh to get you off.” He grabbed your waist, moving you forward to give you a start. You put your head on his shoulder, beginning to grind on his muscular thigh thanks to his spiderman activities. He started to bounce his leg a little, immediately making you moan from the stimulation. “Fuck Pete,” you whined, your pussy growing wetter by the second. You were glad he was wearing loose pants, teasing your fingers around the waistband before reaching in to take his hard cock out, spreading his precum around to get it slick before beginning to stroke it.

“Fuck princess, just like that,” He moaned. He took his hands off your waist to lift up your shirt, thanking the gods that you weren’t wearing a bra before leaning forward to take your right nipple into his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around the hard pebble before sucking on it, before switching to the other one. You moaned loudly, beginning to ride his thigh faster and jerking his cock harder.

“I’m gonna cum Peter,” You breathed out, feeling the knot in your stomach get tighter. “Yeah, pretty girl?” He took his mouth off your tits to talk. “You gonna cum for me? Cum, then. Make a mess all over me. Fuck, baby.” He moaned out the end as you swirled your thumb around the tip of his cock, bringing him closer to release.

“Cum with me Peter, please, please, please,” you began begging as your thighs started to twitch, your eyes rolling back, cumming all over his thigh. “Fuckkk Y/N,” your reaction bringing him to his own orgasm, hot spurts of cum shooting all over your hand. You sighed as you calmed down from your orgasm, bringing your hand up to lick his cum off. “I love you so fucking much, Y/N.” He kissed you harshly before you got up, getting a little embarrassed at the extremely obvious wet spot you had left on his pants. “Don’t get embarrassed darling,” he noticed your face, “It’s fucking hot. You should go lay down, you’re probably tired.” You smiled at his words before changing your soaked underwear into a clean pair and washing your hands of the clay that still occupied them and went to lay down in his bed, though with as much as you go over, it might as well be your bed too.

He came back with different pants on and clean hands and went to lay behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you closer. “I love you.” He mumbled into your neck. “I love you too, Peter.” You grabbed one of his hands that was wrapped around you and intertwined it with yours, closing your eyes and falling asleep with your lover by your side.

By the time you woke up, it was morning but Peter was nowhere to be found. You looked at the clock, seeing it was only 8 am when something caught your attention on the nightstand. It was the finished mugs from last night. Sitting side by side, both mugs sporting a sage green and brown with each mug having your names on it and little sunflowers scattered across. You smiled, absolutely loving everything about your life, knowing that with Peter, it would always be perfect.

was this bad? im so sorry i tried

[luminois]

･:*✧ 𝗢𝗧𝟴; 𝘃𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲’𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹

𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲.

𝟭𝟯𝟴𝟲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀, 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝘂𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗹.

･:*✧ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻; 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗮𝘇𝗶𝗻𝗴

having your first date with a new person away from the city when it was dark out would’ve been out of discussion, with anybody else. but it’s chan, and he’s proved himself worthy of your trust times and times again before asking you out. so there you are, laying on a blanket in the back of his truck, looking up at the starry night sky. fairy lights surround you, and you smile when he shyly admits that he took inspiration from cliché pinterest pictures. you gasp as a falling star crosses the sky, and when you tell him to make a wish he says that with you next to him there’s nothing else he could wish for. it’s cheesy and he’s blushing at himself, but your heart skips a beat and you forget to make a wish yourself.

･:*✧ 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗵𝗼; 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿

he likes to joke around, but never about the two of you. so when he said he was going to treat you like royalty you knew he wasn’t bluffing. minho looks dashing in his suit and you feel your confidence grow with the way he looks at you, uncaring of the waiter and all the people around you. you’re all dressed up, fitting in the fancy restaurant just right, and he doesn’t fail to let you know just how gorgeous he thinks you are. your cheeks are red and the air feels electric between you two, and so it stays for the entire dinner. you talk about everything and laugh at the smallest things, and you can clearly see he’s not playing a part. he shows you new sides of himself and you can’t help but fall for each and every one of them. you try each other’s dish, and when you’re done he orders a dessert and two spoons. your eyes meet as you eat from the same plate, and you think the people sitting at nearby tables can see the sparks too.

･:*✧ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗯𝗶𝗻; 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰

the pub is packed, the air buzzing with excitement as everyone waits for the band to start playing. people are laughing and chatting lively and you feel yourself smile at the pleasant energy surrounding you. changbin can’t take his eyes off of you. you’re glowing even in the dim, warm lights and when you turn to tell him something, eyes sparkling in anticipation for the imminent performance, it’s like everything else is out of focus. you stutter when he ever so gently tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and he revels in the way you look back at him, because he knows he’s sporting the same love-drunk gaze. the drink he’s ordered for you is sweet and you kiss him in lieu of letting him taste it. the band finally starts playing and you feel so moved by their music your hand instinctively finds changbin’s, your entwined fingers resting on top of the table making everything even more magical.

･:*✧ 𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗷𝗶𝗻; 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴

despite the nonexistent privacy the club provides, you feel like there’s nobody else but the two of you in the room. hyunjin hugs your waist as you wait in line to get in and he doesn’t let you go since then. many people greet him as he guides you through the crowded place but he offers them nothing more than a smile and a couple words, his attention completely enraptured by you. he shields you from the dancing bodies while you reach the bar and he makes you try tequila shots for the first time. he laughs when the strong taste makes you cough and then kisses your cheek softly to make you stop pouting. you already know he’s an amazing dancer but he proves it once more as he takes your hands and pulls you in the middle of the dance floor. as you feel the music in your bones and the little alcohol you’d had starts to make you bolder, you pull him closer until your bodies are flushed together. the colorful lights shining on his skin make him look otherworldly, and butterflies explode in your stomach when his lips meet yours in a kiss.

･:*✧ 𝗷𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴; 𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀

nobody has ever taken you on such an unusual first date before, but nobody is like jisung. you’re wearing one of his old oversized shirts that he brought for you to not get your clothes dirty, but you suspect it’s more because he wants you to wear his clothes in public. you both can’t stop glancing at each other while the teacher tries to explain what you have to do. his shirt doesn’t have sleeves and he’s unfairly attractive as he focuses on his work. his hands get dirty and his fingers run smoothly on the clay to mold it. it’s beautiful to watch and you blush as you realize just how badly you want him to touch you like that, too. you can't seem to concentrate and your supposed vase is coming out way too badly shaped, but then you feel arms surrounding you and bigger hands join yours on the clay, softly entwining together. jisung whispers in your ear and your heart is beating too fast, the moment feels like it’s straight out of a movie and you feel yourself fall in love right then.

･:*✧ 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝗶𝘅; 𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲

love songs are playing from a speaker perched on the kitchen counter. felix confesses he made a playlist specifically for the occasion and you beam at him. you try to help him around, offering to chop some vegetables or do something simple, but he insists that you just sit down and relax until dinner is ready. he’s the one that invited you in the first place and he won’t let his date do the work. and to be fair, you both know he’s the chef in this blooming relationship. he moves graciously around the stove as if he was dancing, his sweet smile never leaving as you chat about nothing at all, just enjoying the cozy atmosphere. the food turns out to be delicious, you feed each other and you’d find it too cheesy if it was anybody else but felix. you peck his lips to thank him, and it doesn’t take long until you’re cuddling on his couch, having kisses for dessert.

･:*✧ 𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗺𝗶𝗻; 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗺

he holds your hand as you wander through the gallery, mesmerized by the beauty surrounding you. sometimes you stop to admire a painting longer than usual and he gets closer, one of his arms hugging your waist as he watches your awed expression with an endeared smile. he asks you why you like this particular piece so much just for the sake of hearing you talk but he’s listening to your words too, because you deserve his complete attention. he gets excited when he knows something interesting about one of the works. he explains it with such enthusiasm and you’re happy about learning something you, but you’re happier about seeing that passionate glint in his eyes. he makes everything more enjoyable to the point you think watching paint dry with him would turn into an amazing date. you gather up your courage and you tell him that in your eyes he’s the real masterpiece, not because you’re trying to be cheesy, but because it’s true.

･:*✧ 𝗷𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻; 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲

as you step into the colorful, noisy place, you feel like you’re back in middle school, your eagerness to have fun like you used to growing by the second. you and jeongin exchange a look and then you’re having a rock-paper-scissors match to decide who gets to choose the first game. you win, and then you’re challenging him to a dance dance revolution showdown. you gather all the quarters you have and get ready to win, but it doesn’t go quite as you expected. jeongin is giving you a hard time, he’s extremely good and competitive, but after a while you forget about the challenge all together. he’s creative with his moves and he’s dancing with you more than against you, taking your hands and making you spin and switch places until your cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing too much and you’re missing more steps than you’re getting in. that’s how every other game goes as well, and by the end of the date you’re exhausted and still running high on unadulterated happiness. he gets you a plushie using the tickets he won and it’s perfect, just like him.

———

do you want to read more?

[the-tactician-magician]

Oops this one is being posted past midnight, but it's still @flufftober2021 day 19 somewhere in the world right??

Flufftober Day 19: Flowers

Rated G, Yuri/M!Byeth, 2377 words

“So? What do you think?”

Byleth let out a contemplative hum as he surveyed the empty room before him. It bore some trademarks of Abyss, such as damp stony walls and general dingy atmosphere, but it was starkly different from the rest of the underground city in two major ways.

Firstly, there were a great number of containers here, as well as shelves and counters to house them. He spotted small clay pots, cracked vases, watering troughs, even an old bathtub, and everything in between. And despite varying so much in shapes and sizes, they all had one thing in common. They were filled to the brim with dirt.

Secondly, shafts of sunlight poured through a hole in the ceiling, brightening the room considerably. Byleth didn’t want to ask if the hole was created by hand or natural causes, but he couldn’t deny the effect it had. In addition to sunlight, the hole also brought a fresh breath of air that, when combined with the loaminess of the soil, almost made him feel like he was outdoors instead of Abyss.

Not that he didn’t dislike Abyss. It may be dark and humid to an almost oppressive degree, and filled with unsavory denizens, but there were plenty of good things to be found here. Such as a strange kind of serenity that couldn’t be found aboveground, warm-hearted people bearing open arms, and a few of his favorite students, including the young man showing off his latest idea.

“It may not be as fancy as your greenhouse in the monastery, but you have to admit that our set-up is pretty impressive for being underground.” Yuri continued on. “We actually managed to get some dirt, the nice kind of dirt, mind you, and sunlight down here. So now all we need is some seeds and water to get our garden going.”

Byleth’s gaze lingered on the potted dirt some more. He didn’t understand what made dirt the nice kind of dirt, but if Yuri seemed enthused about it, then he was too. And it did seem like a lot of effort was made down here already. He couldn’t begin to imagine how long it took the Ashen Wolves and other volunteers to fill all these containers with soil.

All of their hard work didn’t answer the one question on his mind though. “Why a garden?” Byleth asked.

Yuri recoiled slightly, like he was caught off guard by his remark. “Friend, you should be asking yourself ‘why not’?”

A pause settled between them as Byleth blinked in confusion. Sensing that his joke didn’t land, Yuri covered up the awkwardness with a smile. “People like seeing green things. It’s as simple as that. Of course, growing a garden underground seemed like an impossible suggestion at first, but we’re nothing if not a determined bunch. Perhaps that’s because a certain someone taught us well?”

This time, his insinuation was not lost on Byleth. With a light feeling in his chest, he nodded in agreement and turned his attention back to the future garden.

“It’s admirable that you’re doing so much for your people…” He paused as another question formed on his tongue. “What sort of plants will you grow here?”

At that, Yuri’s smile curved into a smirk. “And this is the part where you come in. As Garreg Mach’s newest and hottest professor, procuring some plants for us should be a piece of cake. But don’t just grab any kind of plant. We need things that can thrive in the shade, for obvious reasons.”

He gestured towards their surroundings, as if things weren’t clear enough. But Byleth understood him perfectly, and gave him another nod.

“Wonderful.” Yuri said. “And just so you’re aware, feel free to drop by Abyss’s new garden anytime. I hear that you have a green thumb of sorts aboveground, so I’d love to see you work your magic down here as well.”

---

Gardening in Abyss was vastly different from gardening in Garreg Mach, Byleth soon found out.

Up there, the heat and humidity was controlled by magic to allow all sorts of plants to grow. Every patch of dirt and pot of soil was carefully measured out and allotted to students and faculty, so everyone had the chance to grow something. And their unerring supervision, as strict as it may be, paid off. Whenever Byleth paid Garreg Mach’s magnificent greenhouse a visit, he laid eyes upon plants from all corners of Fodlan and then some, as well as a student or two happily gardening away.

Abyss, on the other hand, couldn’t boast a wide variety of plants like its aboveground cousin. Not only was Byleth restricted to shade-loving plants, he had to pick out hardy plants that wouldn’t mind irregular waterings or the occasional abuse at the hands of novices. That left him with fewer choices than he liked, but they were enough, judging from Yuri’s smile when Byleth presented them to him.

Abyss’s garden also didn’t have things like magic or pegasus blessings to promote growth. Instead, Byleth, Yuri, the Ashen Wolves, and several other Abyss denizens toiled away with their bare hands, and with whatever plants were within their reach. After all, it was senseless to divy up precious resources such as water, nice dirt, willing volunteers, and the plants themselves. As long as the garden was taken care of sometime, it didn’t matter who was taking care of it.

Because of this haphazard system, the garden in the dark grew however it wanted to. Ivy sprawled out of the confines of their container. Ferns unfurled and casted a shadow over smaller plants. The few flowers they could obtained weren’t organized by type, so their differently colored and shaped buds resembled the pallet of a demented artist from afar.

Yet their garden grew. New buds sprouted from the earth everyday. More and more Abyssians started to spend their time here, either working or just enjoying the scenery. They even chipped away at the tiled floor so they could grow plants on the ground too. Byleth used his burgeoning influence and Yuri called upon a few connections to acquire rarer plants such as peace lilies, prayer plants, bleeding hearts, and spiderwort. These remarkable specimens spruced up their little green space even more, making it truly to be proud of.

Abyss’s garden may be different, but Byleth liked it all the same, and not just for the plants. He got to know the Abyssians quite well throughout his frequent visits. Despite being a bit rough around the edges, they accepted him, chatted amiably with him, laughed at jokes he himself couldn’t muster a laugh for. And when they smiled after a job well done, he almost broke through his stunted emotions to smile as well.

Actually, there was one Abyssian that Byleth managed to smile for. The gesture came unexpectedly, while he was trimming back mint leaves with Yuri. They had started to grow edible plants alongside decorative ones to augment their rations, but they didn’t expect their mint plants to grow so voraciously. At least they wouldn’t be running out of it anytime soon.

“Say, Yuri.” Byleth piped up. “How did you become so good at gardening?”

Yuri chuckled under his breath. “What makes you think that I’m any good at this?”

“Well, you are. You handle your tools well, you pay close attention to the moisture and content of the soil, you even know what plants could grow underground off the top of your head.”

Yuri’s scissors paused over the stalk of a mint plant. His lavender gaze met Byleth’s blue one for a long moment, then turned back to his job.

“Don’t go telling everyone this, but I used to be a gardener's assistant back in the day. Picked up all sorts of useful tricks from then.”

Byleth watched him work in silence. His past experience explained a lot about his skills, but not necessarily the forlorn look on his face. Byleth pondered over his next words carefully as he tried to figure out the reason behind Yuri’s melancholy.

“A gardener to an underground lord. That’s a pretty drastic career change…” He thought out loud.

“More drastic than a mercenary to a professor?” Yuri smirked.

Byleth shrugged in response. “I’m just saying you could make a decent living out of gardening. At least it involves less dubious courses of actions.”

“Ah, if only you knew what I was really up to.” Yuri laughed again. “But seriously, I don’t miss being a gardener. The job’s not as leisurely as you think, especially if you were employed by scumbags.”

Sensing his hidden meaning, Byleth nodded in understanding. As a mercenary, he had worked under cruel and selfish people before, so he was well aware of how they could ruin a hobby as peaceful as gardening.

“Besides,” Yuri continued. “If I stayed where I was, I wouldn’t have come here and met you. And that would be a real shame, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Byleth agreed through a smile.

Although he didn’t know he was smiling until Yuri paused again to stare at him. “My friend, are you actually smiling? If I knew that simple flattery was the way to your heart, I would’ve tried it much sooner.”

Byleth felt his smile fade away in an instant, but that only prompted more teasing from Yuri. “Oh come on. Show me that cute smile of yours again. I promise I won’t make fun of you. Not too much, anyway.”

“If we keep talking, the mint will grow back and undo all of our hard work.”

He snipped a stem to emphasize his point. Unfortunately for Byleth, Yuri remained unfazed by his vague threat. Rather, he seemed encouraged by it.

“And now a joke. Seems like today is my lucky day.” Yuri said, then sighed. “But I suppose these mint leaves won’t trim themselves, won’t they?”

With that, Yuri fell silent, save for the sounds of cutting scissors. Byleth appreciated their newfound peace, but at the same time, he also couldn’t stop thinking about what Yuri said to him. As those words replayed in his head over and over again, the faintest of smiles reappeared on his lips as he continued to work alongside Yuri.

---

“Well? What do you think?”

Byleth let out a contemplative hum as he surveyed the sprawling greenery before him. With every pot and patch bursting with foliage, colorful blooms reaching towards sunlight, and the scent of flowers in the air, it was obvious that the garden in Abyss had done well in his five year long absence.

The Ashen Wolves have fared well too. Especially Yuri. Byleth could scarcely believe how he managed to keep up his youthful beauty and mature into a capable leader at the same time. Yet, as they stood together in their garden they grew together, it seemed as if some things never changed.

Yuri shot Byleth a look, reminding him that he had asked a question. He nodded back in haste.

“It’s… nice. To see that some beauty in this world has survived, even in times of war.”

“Glad to hear it.” Yuri said with a smile. “Cause this isn’t just our garden, you know. It’s one of the few things that bring us Abyssians joy, so of course we would do our best to keep it pretty.”

Yuri walked over to a nearby pot of violets. To anyone else, their rich purple hue might’ve outshone his lilac hair, but to Byleth, their colors simply complimented each other well, making them greater than the sum of their parts. Awestruck by both the violets and the man handling them, Byleth couldn’t stop the words on his lips in time.

“I wasn’t just talking about the garden, you know.”

Yuri jerked his head up, eyes wide in shock. “So what are you talking about then?”

Byleth inhaled deeply. As much as he regretted what he said, he couldn’t take them back now, nor could he leave Yuri hanging. He had to finish his sentiment, no matter how embarrassing it was.

“I was… talking about you.”

That bold proclamation hung in the air, although Byleth couldn’t decide whether it was akin to a foul odor or an electrifying energy. Yuri’s face at this very moment was inscrutable, which didn’t help him at all. He could only await his reaction with bated breath, until Yuri plucked a violet from his pot.

“Is that so? I’ve had many people tell me that I’m beautiful, but to hear such praise coming from you… Well, I’m honestly flattered. In a good way.”

Byleth felt his cheeks burning as Yuri stepped closer, the violet twirling in between his fingers. “And I have to say, you’re quite beautiful yourself. Also, in a good way.”

Of all the ways Yuri could have replied, Byleth didn’t expect to be complimented in turn. His blush became even hotter as he said the first thing on his mind.

“You truly mean that?”

“Mmhmm.” By now, Yuri was a scant few inches from Byleth, which didn’t help his rosy cheeks at all. “People love green things, after all, and I see the greenest, most beautiful thing right in front of me.”

He raised a hand to stroke some green locks of hair away from Byleth’s ear. The mere contact sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. Paralyzed with the wonderful feeling, Byleth remained still as Yuri tucked the violet behind his ear, then pulled his hand back, giving his face another gentle caress in the process.

“I meant what I said, five years ago.” He whispered in an uncharacteristically vulnerable way. “I really am glad that I met you. And since then, you have become very important to me. So don’t pull another vanishing act or die on me, alright? We need to survive this war so we can make this garden even more beautiful. Together.”

His warm touch and even warmer words finally thawed the force that froze Byleth in place. He wasn’t as eloquent as Yuri, not by any definition, but he nonetheless took him by the hands and let his emotions flow.

“You’re very important to me as well. So yes, I promise to survive and keep you safe. For the sake of our garden, for Abyss, for Fodlan, and for you.”

[anonthenullifier]

Alright, my headcanon/prompt that's been living in my mind rent free is the idea that Vision doesn't buy Wanda flowers, he buys her vases with sprouts on them, new life ready to grow. When he first heard of people gifting each other flowers he didn't fully understand why you would kill something, and make your loved one watch it slowly wilt away, when you could get them something they'd help survive. After watching so many loved ones die, I just think Wanda would be really touched to help something live and grow (just like her love for him blossoming)

I love this head canon so much. So damn much! I’ve written a story before (It’s About Thyme) that has them planting a garden and nurturing it as a way to mirror their relationship so to say I like to think about them with plants is an understatement. And then your gorgeous head canon looks at it in a way I never thought about and it’s perfect. Thank you for sharing it!

Here’s a little fic that came to mind as I was reading your ask. I hope you like it!

—

To say Vision is perplexed would be an understatement. Which is itself surprising because he has come to a tentative theory that to be human is to be irrational, and yet this, this crosses a line of reasoning he cannot begin to fathom. Typically he would have Wanda here to volley his concerns towards and to then explain in however many examples and phrasings that it takes for him to understand. Except he is here covertly, under the expert opinion of Sam, to procure a token of affection for all that Wanda provides him. Which brings him to a standstill of indecision waltzing along with a niggling horror at all the implications.

Luckily for him, he hopes, there is a sales associate close by. “Pardon me?” The man turns towards him, brown apron emblazoned with stitched on daisies and a name tag that reads Samuel, a fitting name since the other Samuel in Vision’s life suggested this course of questionable action. “I was advised that purchasing and gifting flowers is a socially appropriate way to convey affection.”

Samuel’s eyes squint for half a second, a common reaction whenever Vision goes out in public. “Uh, yeah. What does your special um,” this scanning over of Vision’s body is also common, uncomfortable, but he does his best to act unperturbed otherwise it might stoke potential fear into ire from his observer, “individual like? We’ve got roses, carnations, lilies, daisies, asters. Anything float your boat?”

If this decision were a boat it would be taking on waves at the moment. “But all of these have been removed from their roots.”

“Yeah, kinda the whole point of making a bouquet.”

The sass is not appreciated but Vision believes in remaining polite because the attitude of the man could be compounded with mistreatment from other customers or negative life events and not solely due to Vision’s inquiry. “Does that not mean they will wilt and die?”

Samuel does not share the distaste for this thought, a simple shrug and a rather unhelpful piece of advice given, “They all come with flower food, helps them stay fresh a bit longer.”

“I see.” Vision determines this issue may be best cogitated alone, so he sends a polite, tight lipped smile towards the man, “Thank you, Samuel.”

“Yep.”

The man leaves and Vision continues his stare down with the beautifully variegated display case in front of him. The differing colors and petal shapes form a kaleidoscope of awe, one that feels romantic and wispy and desirable. Except they will all wilt, the petals will curl up and fall to the ground, and within a week it will be in the trash. His love is not so brief, so fragile and he is perplexed as to why he would present Wanda with a token that cannot survive. Would it not imply his love will fade? That he will, even if fed her own love and passion and attention, eventually fall away from her? Even if she were to dry them out, like he has seen Laura do at the Barton farmhouse, it would require her to keep them someplace safe and to never touch them, the lifeless remnants too delicate and brittle for anything other than distant observation—a poor metaphor for his intended message.

Wanda has endured so much already, the memories as vivid as the Tiger Lily in front of him, days of listlessness and tears, evenings brimming over with invasive memories of all the deaths and all the pain, the only salves he could offer were strong arms and gentle reassurances. Why would he gift her something that will also die? Provide a further suggestion that her life must always be dictated by loss? Why would anyone, rational or not, believe temporal brevity a better show of love than something lasting?

Vision turns away from the bouquets, prepared to leave the store and find somewhere quiet to reassess his gift. It is this defeated swivel that brings a small display into his view, one tucked away as if it was an afterthought. On it are simple clay pots of various sizes, bags of potting soil heaped on the ground next to it, and a little table top rotating kiosk of seed packets awaiting to be planted and nurtured into a long and beautiful life. Vision’s lips curl up at the new idea in his head.

————

There is a subtle chime to her left, in the general vicinity of her door. It is the closest he ever gets to a knock. Wanda puts her book down and waits for the unmistakable gleam of vibranium and the glow of Vision’s phasing to come through the wall located mere inches from her fully functioning door. “Hey Vizh.”

He pauses, irises twisting rapidly to the left and lips puckered as if he’s been caught doing something wrong. Which would be not using her door and yet he still persists and still always makes this face, and it’s a welcome joy in her day. “Good afternoon, Wanda.” Unlike usual, his hands remain behind his back, pulling the threads of his synthetic sweater into a tension similar to his body. “I, um, brought you something.”

Hoping to ease his nerves, she shuffles to the side a bit and then pats the mattress, inviting him to come over and haltingly lower himself to the bed, body remaining twisted to hide whatever it is. “What is it?”

Slowly he brings his arms into view and in his right hand is a clay pot with a little seed packet inside, all wrapped up in a red bow, and in his left is clenched a small bag of soil. Wanda shares her gratitude with a smile, scarlet twining around the gifts and bringing them to her hands to inspect them closer. “I had been informed by a trusted associate that flowers are considered the socially acceptable gift for conveying affection.”

Gently, soothingly she offers a minor correction, knowing he doesn't like to be embarrassed by misinterpreting social advice. “Usually they mean a bouquet.”

A grave nod accompanies his, “I am aware.” Vision lifts his hand, waving it around to help usher out the full story, “But it seemed incongruous to provide you a fleeting gift for a sentiment that is not so,” he hesitates, maybe because he realizes the implication himself or because he can see it in the growing smile on her face, either way he’s committed to the admission of how long he sees this new relationship going and she’s hoping he won’t back down now. And he doesn’t, even if he stammers through it. “brief. I would rather my affections be shown in an appropriately long lasting form.”

Experiencing the fascinating way his mind works is always a pleasure and, due to listening to him and learning the way he thinks and feels, she understands it perfectly, feels a deep, warming thankfulness at this chance to play a hand in allowing something to live and grow, a chance she’s been denied so much before. Wanda ropes him closer with her powers and firmly plants a kiss to his nervous smile. “Thank you.” She unwraps the bow and studies the picture of a happy sunflower, a little confused. “I didn’t think these were indoor plants.”

“Oh well,” now that an explanation that is not tied to emotions is needed, he loosens up, “they are meant to be started and nurtured indoors and then, once large enough, can be moved outside or to a greenhouse.”

“Do we have a greenhouse here?”

Vision considers this, lips parted as his thoughts tick away. “Well no, but it could be enjoyable to convert one of the older equipment sheds into such a structure so we could have a year round garden.”

This simple gift blossoms into something bigger, something rooted in a hope for a future together. “I think it would be fun.”

“Yes,” Vision slips back into a slight, carefully paced cadence, “I selected this particular flower because it is often symbolic of adoration, loyalty and um,” he acts as if his actions have not already made it clear, as if his words should be a surprise, one he isn’t certain she’ll like, “longevity.”

Wanda offers a sunny smile, hoping to sear away any question as to her appreciation and reciprocal feelings, “I love it.” An equally exuberant curve forms on his lips. “Want to help me plant it?”

His instantaneous and joyful, “Of course,” is all it takes to settle them into a path towards a life and love they’ll nurture together.

[onemoresomething]

unchained melody

a matchablossom ghost au I GUESS

i partially blame @teaisolde for this

also on ao3

It was hypnotising, almost, the way the clay spun atop the wheel. Round, and around, yet somehow this structure, essentially made of merely dirt, and water, stood tall, barely wavering. Kaoru could make it into anything he wanted, if he focused hard enough; he could make it beautiful, and useful; something to be treasured.

He often found himself in his pottery studio at odd hours. When inspiration hit, or when a project was past due, or he was struggling to sleep.

Tonight was the latter.

He would dim the lights, keeping just enough directed towards the wheel so he could see what he was doing. Although, some nights it hardly mattered to him. Some nights, for Kaoru, the end product was not important. Some nights, he simply craved the feeling of wet clay moving beneath his fingers.

Like tonight.

A song that Kaoru recognised, despite not understanding the foreign lyrics, played softly over Carla’s speakers. He liked to have music playing while he worked, filling the empty corners of his studio. Somehow it felt like the melody was cursing through his body, travelling down his arms, his fingers, into his creation on the table. Each song made one of his pieces unique, endowing it with a story that Kaoru could never describe with words.

He marvelled at the way the pot he was currently shaping (or was it a vase, he couldn’t decide) was able to stand, narrower in the middle than it was on top. To the inexperienced eye, it must have looked as though it was about to topple right over. But as Kaoru delicately reached a hand through the mouth, moulding the curves with his skilled fingers, he could feel how perfectly balanced it was.

Kaoru heard a soft set of footsteps behind him. Despite his large build, Kojiro was surprisingly light on his feet. He always took care when entering Kaoru’s studio, especially when he was working, conscious not to distract him. Kaoru loved that about him.

A quick glance over his shoulder in Kojiro’s direction let the other man know that his presence was known, that he could relax. Speak.

“Love,” the deep voice from behind him said, still weary from sleep. “What are you doing up so late? It’s almost 3am, you know.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Kaoru replied. He could feel Kojiro’s gaze on him, watching him as he let his fingers slide down the side of the vase (it was a vase now, he had decided).

“Another nightmare?” Kojiro asked, slowly approaching, as if Kaoru were a frightened animal he was trying not to scare off.

“Mmm,” he hummed, casual in his response. Nightmares were a regular occurrence for Kaoru, not something he considered worth fussing over. He heard the light scraping of a stool on the concrete floor, and leaned back to kiss Kojiro chastely on the lips as the other settled in behind him, before returning back to his work. “Did the music wake you?”

“No,” Kojiro replied, keeping a little distance between them. “Rolling over to find my husband missing from our bed woke me,” he explained, and then added after a pause, “You could have woken me up.”

Kaoru just hummed another reply. He could feel the frustration exuding from his husband in hot waves - Kojiro hated when Kaoru didn’t let him take care of him.

“You notice Adam’s eyes at ‘S’ tonight? They were all over you,” Kojiro said, clearly an attempt to get a reaction out of him. But enough time had passed for Kaoru that the mention of their former friend no longer had the effect on him than it used to.

“What? Are you jealous?” Kaoru mocked, unable to hide the grin from his lips, receiving a cheeky poke to his ribs as punishment that made him jump in surprise. And then after a moment of thought, added, “He's not looking at me anymore. He doesn't see me at all.”

He sensed Kojiro stiffening behind him at those words. Perhaps his words sounded nostalgic, or full of regret to his husband. But that wasn’t really it. The only thing Kaoru regretted was how long he had let the memory of Adam reign over him. So to ease Kojiro’s mind, he added, with a smile in his voice, “Anyway, he's not my type.”

The stool scraped closer on the concrete, and then there was a large hand creeping around his waist, coming to rest firm and grounded on his stomach.

“Mmm? And what exactly is your type?” Kojiro asked, giving his belly a gentle squeeze. The man pulled himself closer, breath fanning out hot against the back of Kaoru’s neck, making him squirm. The unexpected movement caused Kaoru’s hands to shift, the action sending the pottery slightly off centre as it continued to rotate.

“Muscle-brained gorillas, apparently,” he answered, berating his husband with a playful slap to the wrist. But that didn’t seem to deter Kojiro, whose hands slid up Kaoru’s forearms, until they were hovered over his own. He could feel static electricity in the infinitesimal space between their skin, and suddenly he was torn between not wanting his creation to be destroyed, and wanting desperately to be touched.

“What are you doing?” Kaoru asked, even though they both knew it was a warning.

“I suddenly feel inspired,” Kojiro whispered against his skin.

It took just a moment for Kojiro to distract him, with a press of hot, wet lips to the back of his neck. The kiss sent shivers down Kaoru’s spine, and Kojiro was cunning enough to take the opportunity to close the space between their hands. Kaoru whined as the force of the movement sent his vase (no longer a vase, he supposed) toppling over, collapsing back into a clump of clay, just as he had started with.

“Clumsy gorilla,” he chided, but without any real anger.

“I hope it wasn’t a masterpiece,” Kojiro chuckled, against his skin. He shuffled even closer still, pressing his warm, solid, naked chest against Kaoru’s back.

“Not anymore, it isn’t,” he replied, and then wetting his hands, and entwining their fingers around the shapeless clump, added, “But you can help me fix it.”

He proceeded to guide Kojiro’s hands over the wet clay, instructing him to just “let the clay slide between your fingers,” until both their hands were covered and messy.

Kojiro was humming, deep in his throat, as their hands moved together, and he was pressed so close that Kaoru could feel the vibrations in his body. And his hands started roaming, up his forearms, over his wrists, tangling their fingers, and Kaoru had never imagined that his craft could be this intimate before.

Then there was another hot kiss placed against his neck, then another, and another, until Kaoru was squirming in his lover’s embrace, desperate for more. He turned his head, finally allowing Kojiro to capture his mouth, breathing him in.

It was hot, and wet, and messy. And there was clay everywhere, on everything, every inch of bare skin as Kojiro devoured him and groped him with his large, powerful hands. But Kaoru didn’t care, because that’s what they were. Their relationship was messy. They were dirt and water. And sometimes they toppled over. But sometimes they could be strong, and balanced, and beautiful.

Breaking away to breathe, Kaoru took in Kojiro’s flushed, handsome face, and thought to himself that if anything were to happen to his love, he really was not sure how he would ever survive it.

“I love you, Kojiro,” he said, bringing a clay covered hand up to rest against the other man’s cheek. And the other man smiled, so glorious and dazzling that Kaoru thought no other smile would ever compare with it, and simply replied:

“Ditto.”

[literaila]

these memories live with me

spencer reid x reader

summary: a collection of letters the reader writes to spencer :D

warnings: fluffy. kinda cute. there are memories. some inferences to death. nothing too bad. and bad writing.. but yeah

****

Spencer, 

Do you remember the time we went to the beach? 

You swore to me, over and over, that you weren't going. 

“Y/N, there is an average of 3,536 fatal drownings at the beach each year, not to mention the boat accidents. We aren't going.” 

I just laughed. I was pretty sure you’d never actually been to the beach before that. It didn't seem like it, seemed more like you were trying to protect us from danger that wasn't there. I’m not sure if it was for me or for you. 

Do you remember laughing? Do you remember how much fun we had? How sunburned we were the next day? 

Do you remember me running away from you, throwing me in the water? Do you remember that little boy coming up and asking you to build a sandcastle with you? Do you remember getting dinner later that night and spilling sand onto the booth? You hated that. Do you remember the glow we had for days after? The cold showers we had to take? 

I don't think anything could’ve wiped the smile off of your face that day. Before that, I don't think I’d ever seen you have so much fun. 

You’re usually so reserved, usually, you throw out facts to fill the silence, and explain to me everything about everything. Except for you. You never really told me anything about you before that. But that day, god that day you just lit up. Suddenly nothing had to be kept secret, suddenly you weren't afraid to be yourself, weren't afraid to tell me about the books you were reading, the thoughts you were thinking, the interesting little things that I didn't know could be so interesting. 

That day you told me about your Mom. You told me how you’d always felt guilty, guilty for not being there for her, guilty for letting her be alone all the time, you told me that you wished you could visit more, that your Mom deserved more visits, more time with her only family. You told me that you could never get the image of her begging you not to go to the hospital, to stay home, out of your head. You told me that was the one thing you wished you could forget. That having a memory like yours was only good when you needed to be a textbook. 

You told me that you felt really tired. 

But you were smiling. You were telling me all these things about you, all these things that would break a normal person down, that would crush anyone else's bones in half, but you were saying all of these horrible things, all of these things I wished I could erase from existing, and you were smiling. 

I still can't imagine how you were still smiling. 

I can't imagine how you could tell me all of that and still have fun, still mention loving the beach after we left. I can't imagine how that could be a happy memory for you. But I’m glad it was. I’m glad I was the first person to introduce you to the joys of the beach. 

You have always been stronger, been so much better, so much more than everyone else. I will never know how you turned out to be such an amazing person. I will never understand how good you are. I will never understand. 

But I still know that I wouldn't change a thing about you. 

You always smiled with me. I’ve never known why. 

That day at the beach you introduced a new side of yourself to me, you decided to tell me the truth, but you also didn't allow me any room to feel bad for you. You decided to smile instead, and ask me if I wanted to go swimming. 

That's one of my favorite days with you. One of my favorite nights. 

I wish we had taken more pictures. Wish I could look at you smiling all the time, and wish that I had more memories of that day. 

Do you remember going to the beach? 

That was fun. 

She sighed and dropped her pen. She rubbed her eyes. Maybe it was time for bed. 

*

Spence, 

Do you remember going to that pottery class? 

From our bed, I can see the distorted pot that we made together. 

You were the one who set up the date. We wanted to try something new together, something that wasn't just a movie. You said pottery was the perfect thing. And while I complained before going, secretly I was happy to go with you. Mostly because you were so excited.  

You explained it all to me before we were there, told me about the proper way to make a clay pot, the best way to spin on a wheel, you explained everything to me before we even left the car, crammed all that information into your brain for that one date. 

It was adorable. 

Your eyes were so bright that night, you looked so excited to be able to learn something new with me, even though you basically already knew how to do everything. You were practically buzzing in anticipation on the way over, you were jumping up and down in my car and you were still smiling. 

I love your smile. 

Have I ever mentioned that? That I love it almost as much as I love you? It's one of my favorite things about you, one of the only things that never ceases to make me amazed- besides your brain of course -because it's so beautiful. I hope you know that. 

But once we got there you pulled me out of the car, barely letting me get the keys out of the ignition. You begged me to hurry up, 

“This is exciting Y/N, come on!” 

And once we were in there, we had no idea what we were doing. 

Apparently, reading and watching videos is not the same as doing it. 

I think you were upset about that. 

I think you wanted to impress me, wanted to show me what amazing things we could make together. But, when we finally got to sit down, both of us were not really paying attention. I think it's partly your fault we weren't listening to the instructor because you told me you knew how to do it, but you’ve always disagreed and said it was my fault. 

In the end, we left with muddy hands, dirty clothes, and what looks like an oval-shaped vase. 

I love that vase. 

You got mad at me for putting it on display. Secretly I think you love it too. 

I can feel how warm you were even while writing this, I can still imagine your soft breath on my neck, the kisses you gave my neck and cheeks when we did something right together. I can still feel your hands on mine, trying to intertwine but never quite making it due to the slick. 

I still smile when I think of the pout on your face when the wheel stopped spinning. 

Although we have a terribly made pot sitting in our house due to your idea of a date, I’m glad we went. I’m glad I got to spend time with you. I’m glad that we have this memory, one that isn't perfect, just for the two of us. I’m glad we can look back on that night and laugh at it. I’m glad you decided that making pottery was a good idea. 

I’m glad that you enjoyed it as much as you did. Before and after. 

I’m glad you got the chance to plan something for us, I’m glad we found time in between your busy schedule. I’m glad I still have the pot. 

But I will admit, my favorite part of that night was sitting in your lap. 

Her head was falling from her body. Nothing could keep it up. Maybe some more sleep would help. 

*

Love, 

Do you remember our first fight? 

Do you remember how scared I was, how used I was to all of my boyfriends leaving at any sign of danger, how terrified I was of you leaving me? Of you changing your mind. 

Because I was, I was so terrified. 

I will admit I don't have the best taste in men, that I choose guys that are bound to hurt me because I’m afraid, I’m afraid that I’m unloveable, I’m afraid that everyone will leave, that I’m not good enough for anyone to stay. I’m afraid that no matter what, nothing will last for me because that's just how I am, that's just how it's supposed to be. I was always afraid that the cards I had would never change. 

So, when you got mad, when I got upset, when we decided that it was time to fight, that not everything could be perfect for us, I froze. 

We were fighting over some silly little thing, about me going out late, being out too late for you. And looking back, I can see that you were just scared. I can see that it didn't matter how safe I could be, that you knew what kind of evil was in the world, that you understood all the bad people more than I could ever imagine. I can see that you just wanted me to be safe, that you just didn't want anything bad to happen for me. Looking back, and seeing the expression that remained on your face, the little bit of concern, the frustration which I now know was directed at yourself, rather than me. You were always so frustrated with yourself for wanting to keep me safe. 

I can see why you were upset now. I can understand it. But, I can also see myself, and I can see how annoyed I was with you taking care of me, I can see how annoying it was that you thought I couldn't take care of myself. 

I think that's why we started fighting. 

I think that even though my past was a big part of my fear, I think I was also scared because I knew you were just trying to protect me. I knew that you were only doing whatever you could to keep me from all the bad things you saw every day. 

I think I was scared that you would leave, that you would see I didn't want to be controlled, that one of us would leave and that would be it. 

I remember crying. Do you remember that? Do you remember the sobs that came out of my mouth once I saw what was happening, once I realized that we were actually fighting, that we were not perfect like I thought we were? 

I remember you being scared of my tears. I remember your face turning from irritation and concern to shock and worried. I can still hear your voice begging me to stop crying, that I didn't need to cry, that there was nothing wrong. 

I can still see the hurt in your eyes at my fear. I can still see how much it hurt you that I was upset. 

I can still hear you saying “I’m not going anywhere baby, shh, I’m not going anywhere without you beautiful.” 

I’m not sure how you knew exactly what to say, but you did. 

Sometimes, when I’m upset, when I don't feel good, I play your voice, your words on repeat in my head. I listen to your calm reassuring voice, I listen to the warmth that masked everything you said to me even then when our relationship was so young. 

I’ve always chosen bad guys, always picked from the bunch of people I knew would leave me, the people I knew I wouldn't get too attached too because I didn't want that. I didn't want to make a commitment and then lose it. I’ve always thought like that, always picked the people I decided to love like that. 

Except for you. 

I chose to love you because you were worth it. Because I knew that even if you left, even if we couldn't be together forever, that you were worth it, that even a day with you was better than nothing at all. Even when we didn't know each other well, I knew that. 

I’ve always thought you were so much better than everyone else. 

I was right. 

I’m so glad that our small fights taught us so much about each other. 

She yawned and looked at the clock. It was too late. She wasn't supposed to be up. She went to bed before anybody got there. 

*

Pumpkin, 

Do you remember the first time I told you I love you? 

Because I do. Because I still live in that moment sometimes. My epiphany. 

I remember driving with you, for twelve hours, because that's what we liked to do. We liked to spend all day in the car together, all day just talking and listening to music and watching the world pass behind us. I remember that. 

Sometimes, I still want to go on long drives with you like I used to. 

I loved that so much. 

I remember you complaining about the music, I remember you looking over to me and covering your ears, I remember laughing. 

I remember you smiling at my laugh. You always smiled when I laughed. 

I remember asking you if you wanted something if there was any place you wanted to stop before I started driving home. 

At that point, I already knew I loved you. Before that moment it was clear to me that I loved you. It was the feeling of stars bursting in my stomach, the intense want to be around you whenever I could, the tears in my eyes at your pain, the laugh in my voice at just your smile. 

It was your warmth, your undying kindness, your much too willing acceptance of who I was. It was everything about you that I loved. There was nothing that I didn't love about you. 

But, in the end, I think it was your smile. 

Your smile always paved the way for me, always brightened up every day, always made me feel better, always filled my heart with nothing but bold emotions, with nothing but everything that I was feeling at once. 

Your smile was always so intense, always so loud and bright, always there when it could be because you rarely stopped smiling. 

I think that's what I loved most about it, that you never stopped. 

And, at that moment when you smiled at me, your happiness was as plain as day, at that moment, I couldn't stop myself from telling you that I was in love with you. 

Spencer, I know you’ve denied this before, I know that you’ve always said that you were never shocked, that it wasn't too fast because you loved me too. 

But you were surprised. Your face was frozen for a moment, and you looked at me, not in a bad way, no you never looked at me in a bad way, but this was an expression that I had never seen come from you before, this was something entirely new. 

You looked like you were in awe. 

Like you couldn't believe I could love you like you had just imagined the words in your head like they weren't actually real. 

And no matter how much you deny it, I know the truth. I don't need your words to confirm it. 

But after I blurted out the words, looked shocked at myself, after that, you looked at me and finally asked 

“Is it because I don't like this song?” 

And I laughed again. And you smiled again. 

I love you. 

I will always love you. 

The tears running down her face were nothing. The hand rubbing her shoulder was nothing. 

*

Spence, 

My shoulders hurt today. 

I’m not sure why. I haven't been doing much. I never really do much when you aren't here. 

But my shoulders hurt. 

I wish you were here. Whenever my shoulders hurt and you’re in bed, you always offer to give me a back rub, always persist at my initial refusal, always tell me that you just want to be close to me for a little while. 

And you’d always whisper little things to me, always telling me how beautiful I was, how amazing I looked without any makeup on, how incredibly harsh I was on myself. You were always telling me just how proud of me you were, just how much work you’d seen me do, you always made sure to let me know that I was appreciated. 

As if I wouldn't know that by the look in your eyes. 

I wish you were here now so I could feel that again. So I could feel your hands rub up and down my back, so I could feel the warm pressure you always use to get out the knots. I wish I could hear your voice in my ear, the breath on my cheek. I wish I could ask you to rub my shoulders, not take it for granted this time. 

I miss you, Spence. 

My shoulders are sore without you. 

Come back soon. 

She didn't utter a word after that. 

*

Dr. Reid, 

When we first met, when you first explained to me about your job, you persisted the fact that you weren't going to be there all the time, that I wouldn't get you whenever I wanted like a normal boyfriend. You told me that we were going to have to work to be together, that our relationship would take work, that you understood if I didn't want to do that if it was too much for me. 

And I don't think you ever understood. 

Although I knew that you were going to be gone a lot, that it would be hard nights alone, cold nights waiting for you on the couch. That there were going to be nights when I might regret it, nights that I might miss you so much that I’d wish that we had never known each other in the first place. I knew that there were going to be days where I was lonely, days that you couldn't help me with my feelings, days when you had to be an agent first, and a boyfriend second. I knew that my attachment issues were going to be a struggle, that it was going to take more work on my part to be okay with you leaving all the time, that it was going to be hard to be so far apart from you for so long. 

I knew all of these things. 

And you’d warned me about them, you’d looked at me with hard eyes and explained everything, explained everything as if it would matter to me. You frowned for the longest time, and all I could remember was wishing for your smile. 

You didn't understand then, and I still don't think you understand. 

I could never leave you. I could never ever let go of you. 

Almost as soon as we’d met, you became like a drug to me, so relaxing, so amazing, so perfect. I knew that I was obsessed with you far too quick, that my addiction was too intense too fast. I knew that, but you never did. 

You never understood how much I tried to resist, tried to keep myself apart from you so that I couldn't become addicted, you never knew how much I had failed at doing that. 

Two months in, and you warned me, but it was too late at that point. Your warning wouldn't do a thing because you were a drug I couldn't get off of, you were something that was permanently attached to me. 

You never understood that. 

I wish I understood more. 

She fell asleep at her desk. Pen in hand. 

*

Spencer, 

I remember the first time you told me you loved me. 

I remember how elated I felt, how high my heart had soared. 

It was a couple weeks after I told you, a couple of weeks of pretending I wasn't hurt by your hesitation, a couple of weeks of trying to come to terms with the fact that you didn't love me yet. 

It was a rough couple of weeks for me. 

But you erased all of it, every inch when you mumbled the words while we were watching that movie, the one I can't remember the name of because I was so distracted by you. 

You have always been so amazing to me. 

Always so loyal, always so devoted. 

There has never been anyone who has loved anyone as much as I love you. I don't think any amount of words, any synonym for love will compare with how I feel. 

It's unfortunate I can't tell you exactly. 

I’ve always hoped you could feel it. That you didn't need words when you had me. 

I remember never being hesitant to say it again after you told me, I remember not being afraid anymore once I knew that you loved me back. 

It was a breaking point for us, the start of a new chapter. It was almost an entirely new book. 

I’ve always been sure that I loved you more. 

But, I think that as long as you loved me even a fraction of an inch as much as I loved you, it would be enough. 

It was enough that you loved me. 

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She lifted her head slightly. 

*

My love, 

They think I need to go someplace else. They think I need to getaway. 

Emily says I should stop writing. 

They all think that it isn't good for me. 

I love you. 

*

Spencer, 

Do you remember the time you forgot about our anniversary?

Do you remember how tired you were? How exhausted you had been when you got home and I was waiting for you on the couch. 

You seemed so disappointed in yourself, so upset for disappointing me. 

I was worried about you that day. 

Because, no matter what I did, no matter how many things I had planned, that day there weren't enough smiles. 

It was okay though. 

Because the next day you made up for it. It was a day late, but it was perfect. 

Thank you for tying yourself to me. 

Thank you for devoting yourself to me. 

Thank you for remembering everything I’ve ever told you. 

I wish I could remember. 

When she handed over the journal, they all pretended not to notice the tear stains ratted along it. 

*

Reid, 

I unpacked some of your boxes today. 

I moved. 

I don't like it in this new apartment. 

It's too cold without you. It doesn't smell like you. It doesn't have the bookcases. It doesn't feel like ours anymore. 

I unpacked our vase. 

And the seashells we collected. 

And the movie ticket.

And the polaroid pictures. 

And the scrapbook. 

I found the ring today. 

*

Spencer, 

I love you. 

I’ve always loved you. 

*

She sobbed as she pulled at her hair, as she fell to the floor, battered in scars and bruises that would never show up on her skin, battered in nothing but imaginary marks that she didn't think would never go away. 

She hated black dresses. 

*

Baby, 

You used to call me that. 

I miss it. 

I went to your funeral today. 

I don't think I’ll ever remember you the way I want to. 

I wish we had taken more pictures. 

*

Spencer, 

This is the last letter for now. 

I’m not allowed to write anymore. 

Everyone has insisted I get out. So I’m going to. 

I’m moving even farther this time. 

It's been a year my love. 

I miss you. I love you. 

Please don't forget about me. I’ll never forget about you. 

She slammed the car door. She put on his jacket. She had a long way to drive.

***

Sorry! I was an idiot and something happened while editing. 

Heres the taglist (again): @missdowntonabbey @your-eternal-muse @qonble @bisoner @purelypanicking 

masterlist here

[blps]

Let my hands guide you

Pairing: Akaashi x reader

Genre: fluff! And strangers to lovers

Summary: You meet Akaashi at a pottery store. (PLEASE TAKE NOTE THAT I NEVER DID POTTERY IN MY LIFE, SO PLEASE DON’T TAKE IT TOO SERIOUSLY PLS)

Word count: 1.3k

a/n: ...... ok so I’m not sure I like this, the scenario in my head is way better so I might do a different one with pottery!Akaashi because I can hahaha; I hope you lovely people had a nice weekend and here’s a fic to handle the week! Enjoy!

///////////////////////////////////////

You opened the door to enter the shop. It was a pottery store where they taught classes for beginners, sold from every type of work from mugs, plates and vases to original decorative art pieces some students were willing to sell.

It was your first time to come here, a little intimidated by the beautiful artwork displayed. You shook that feeling away, determined to simply enjoy yourself and have fun creating something. A feeling of excitement washed over you, ready to try pottery for the first time.

A kind girl greeted you, showing you the way to the back, the workspace for classes and artists. You put on an apron and followed her to your assigned molding stand for hand building method of making pottery. She showed you the three main techniques; the pinch pot, coiling and slab.

Once she taught you every method and the use of each tool, you thanked her as she left you alone to concentrate on your work. It was fun and relaxing. Concentrating on the details of your pieces and handling the tools. It was strangely therapeutic. You made one bowl, one mini pot for one of your plants and, with the clay that was left, you made a small ladybug to go on the pot as decoration. You were proud of what you accomplished and turned to notify the nice girl but you couldn’t find her. You were nervous to explore and leave your familiar workplace. Thankfully, another staff member saw your distress.

“Do you need anything?”

He took your breath away. You couldn’t believe you got the chance to lay your eyes on his beauty. He glanced at your workspace and you remembered what your goal initially was.

“Oh, I just finished my clay and I was wondering if I could know how to finalise it?”

“Yes no problem. They are wonderful for a beginner,” he complimented you, making you even more confident in your new hobby,”I can take care of this for you. So first we’ll -”

He then proceeded to show you how to finalise your pottery, explaining everything methodically and clearly. You listened as he kept on talking, entranced by both of his looks and his words.

He notified you that it would take three to eight hours for the clay to harden. They would supervise your work, taking good care until your next visit. He accompanied you to the front desk as you paid for today’s expanses.

“I would also like to book another session, preferably one with an electric wheel?” you asked.

“Of course,” the pretty staff member smiled at you and proceeded to book you your next appointment.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You realised that you never asked for the pretty staff member's name. When you picked up your artwork, you didn’t see him for the entirety of painting your mug and pot. But even at that, you enjoyed brushing the paint on the clay and continuing your newfound hobby. Akaashi was forgotten at the back of your mind, too busy enjoying your new favourite activity.

You painted your mug your favourite colour and added some details to your liking. For your pot, you chose a nice blue colour to mimic the blue sky, a contrast to your plant’s different hues. Your ladybug sat nicely on the side of the pot. It might not look hyperrealistic, but it was still one you were proud of.

Your day finished well as you returned home with your new acquired creation. Putting your plant in the new pot, it was well decorated and a feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction overcame you. Pottery made you happy and you were eager to start new projects in the future.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

For the next few sessions, you made various mugs and tableware for the shop. Making these allowed you to not pay for anything as you were producing for the shop. But of course, once in a while, you would create for your own place. Pottery soon became a regular activity of your weekly routine.

With how much you spent time there, you met the pretty staff member again, often at that. His name was Akaashi and he was the one who always put your clay to harden. He always complimented you on your work and helped you if you needed any advice. Akaashi quickly became a friend to you.

The nice girl who first taught you the basics, Yukie, was also a friendly person you could depend on.

Currently, you were frustrated because the clay wouldn’t do as you guided it to do. The shape you wanted to achieve was a challenge and the shape you had was all deformed and abstract. You turned off the power of the wheel and let out a sigh.

“Do you need any help?”

You gave Akaashi a desperate look, your eyes clearly saying yes. He smiled a little and pulled a seat facing you. He fixed the oddly shaped clay, and let your hands work. When you started to mess up the shape, Akaashi joined his hands over yours, guiding them to the proper movements of your shape. His hands were covered in clay, as were yours, but the gentle way his hands held yours made your heart skip a beat. His long fingers corrected your mistakes as he explained what you were doing wrong.

For the first time, your ears didn’t listen to him. You were surprised by how he held your hands so easily. His gaze was focused on the clay as he kept on rambling about pottery, but yours were on him. You noticed that everytime he talked about his passion, he got more talkative, having this eager tone that made his eyes light up.

Sensing that your hands were not moving and that you didn’t respond, he looks up, meeting your eyes. None of you could look away as nothing was said. The wheel continued to spin, the room was still noisy from other workers, but it seemed that the both of you were frozen in time, neither of you moving.

Then, someone bumped into you, from behind, making you fall forward into Akaashi. This seemed to wake you up from your trace as you quickly excused yourself and went to pack your stuff to go home.

Akaashi was still in the same position, looking at the door you left, wondering if you felt his heartbeat quickened.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You proceeded to avoid Akaashi for the next few days, too embarrassed to face him again. You came when he didn’t have a shift, Yukie keeping you company.

Pottery helped to take your mind off of him. You concentrated on making various creations, new pots for your new plants. The spinning of the wheel drifted your mind elsewhere, your surroundings fading away. Maybe that’s why you didn’t notice him.

“Can we talk?” You froze entirely. You already felt bad avoiding him, you might owe him an explanation.

You agreed, following him to a more private area of the store, your hands still tainted of clay. Akaashi on the other hand was dressed casually, the first time you saw his style. Of course he knew how to dress with style too. His only sign of nervousness was him playing with his fingers.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line when I touched your hands, I should’ve asked first, I-”

“That’s not it Akaashi,” he looked at you curiously, the script he memorised completely unnecessary, “When we held... well touched hands, I felt something that may cross the line of friendship. I needed time to myself-”

“What if I told you I also felt it”, your look of surprise met his, “If you are willing to try, for a relationship, I’m willing to try.”

You didn’t know what to say. Were you ready to be in a relationship with Akaashi? Would you risk your friendship? You did think he was handsome, and kind, and easy to go along with, and easy to open up to, and your heart was clearly affected by him. But was that enough? Maybe it was.

“I’m willing to try.” Your affirmation put a smile on Akaashi’s lips. Maybe, just maybe it was worth it.

[quiteaweirdworld]

A Little Vase- JJ x Reader

“I took a ceramics class”

Requested: nope

Inspired: by wonderful convos with @spilledtee and also Dax Newman on TikTok

Warnings: none!

Contains: fluff, soft JJ, reader x JJ anniversary, making vases together

Words:  1.2K

You’ve been dating JJ for around six months now, and you love all of the sides of him that you get to see. You love the tough JJ, who everyone sees. This JJ is unafraid of everything, and always protective of his friends. There’s also the soft JJ, who only the close group knows about. Soft JJ is one of your favorites, with soft kisses whenever he sees you and JJ running his hands through your hair as you fall asleep. The one side of JJ that no one, even you didn’t know about, was artsy JJ. 

It was your six month anniversary, and you got a text from JJ to wear something that can get messy, and be ready for something that takes all day. You’re used to running around and getting messy with the pogues, so all of your clothes have definitely seen better days. You wear the distressed jean shorts that are JJ’s favorite because they’re getting a little small, paired with a bright yellow halter top that makes you think of sunshine.

It’s 9am when you hear honking outside your front door and you rush out to see JJ in the van he must have borrowed from John B. 

“Hey beautiful”, he greets you as he hops out of the van for a quick kiss. You and JJ aren’t really ones for pet names, but you have to admit that you love when he calls you beautiful.

 “Hey JJ” you respond, almost shyly.

 “You’ve got the van, where are we going?” Most of the pogues just walk everywhere, so you know that if JJ took the van, you’re heading somewhere new. 

“If I told you, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?” He responded as you both got into the van and he started driving away. 

“Alright Mr. Smartaleck, but this better be one great surprise” you snark as you look out the window and try and figure out where you’re going. You hear JJ chuckle nervously under his breath, and your heart beats faster at the thought of your beautiful boy who is trying so hard to make a wonderful anniversary. 

It’s only a few minutes later when you realize that you’re stopping a bit away from JJ’s house. You know JJ usually wants you to avoid his father, and consequently his house, at all costs, so you must not be heading there. Sure enough, JJ parks the van and quickly runs around to help you down. After locking the door, he leads you away in the opposite direction of his house and down an old path in the woods. He completely ignores the constant questions that you pepper him with, trying to figure out where you’re going. 

Suddenly, he stops and takes out a blue bandana. 

“Close your eyes” You hear, and he covers your eyes with the bandana. 

“JJ” You whine as you are blindly led through what seems to be a doorway.

“Shh y/n, we’re almost there” He laughs. “Hold out your hands”

You feel something smooth and round in your cupped hands, and gasp as he takes off your blindfold. He just gave you a tiny little vase that definitely looks handmade. “JJ” you squeal.

“Well, I took a ceramics class” he explains almost shyly, scratching the back of his neck with one hand as he does when he’s nervous. You recognize the nervous gesture, and are quick to reassure him.

“I absolutely love it” You exclaim, and he gives you a small but proud smile. 

“I was thinking we could make one together” He explains and takes a step to the side so you can properly look at where you are. It’s a little ceramics shed, with a pottery wheel in the center of the room. You can tell that every single item has been painstakingly taken care of, and though the wheel is aged with use, it still looks to be in top shape. There’s a sizable amount of clay next to the wheel, and there’s another table set up with tools of all shapes and sizes. Though the little shed is a bit crowded, you can tell it’s absolutely set up with love. 

“JJ this is amazing” you say, “How’d you get this?” 

“One of the kooks that I mowed lawns for over on Figure Eight built this awhile back, and let me use this for the past year and a half” JJ explains. You realize something “A year and a half?” you ask. JJ looks a bit sheepish and looks down to the floor

“Yeah, I come here whenever I need to get away for a bit. Throwing clay around is really helpful for letting out steam” You read between the lines and understand that the others probably don’t know about this, and you are so touched that he shared this with you.

“Aww JJ” you say, reaching up to cup his face and make him look you in the eyes.

“Thank you so much for showing me, I’m so excited” You try and make sure he knows how special he is to you. JJ blushes and takes your hands away, apparently done with emotions for now. 

“Well, we’d better get started” he says as he leads you to the wheel and takes the clay into your hands. 

“Sit here” he motions to the stool in front of the wheel, and he gets behind you. You take a moment to relish in the closeness between you two, leaning back to rest your back on his chest. It’s a bit warm, and overall a bit awkward, but you wouldn’t change a thing. 

JJ guides his hands over yours as he turns on the wheel and the clay begins to take shape. You’re half paying attention to his detailed instructions on how to make a pot of your own, but the other half of you is distracted by the feel of his hands on yours. He definitely has rough hands, and while yours aren’t soft by any means, you love the feel of his large calloused hands so delicately placed on yours making sure your pot is great. You absolutely love this side of JJ, this artsy side that you didn’t know existed. You didn’t think it was possible to be any more attracted to JJ, but you fall in love with every new side that he shows you. 

Too soon, your little pot was finished, and you gave a little sigh of disappointment. JJ heard you and laughed, carrying your pot over to the kiln that was tucked away into the corner of the shed. “Don’t worry, we have all day to make as many pots as your little heart desires” he reassured you, and you gave him your biggest smile. Being here with JJ, spending all day with him, was the best way you could possibly think to spend your six month anniversary. As you spent the rest of the day making little pots and vases with your boyfriend, you couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky you are to have such a wonderful person in your life, and how you’d love to spend the rest of your life with JJ, making little vases together. 

[nitaescence]

Beauté de marbre

pairing : sculptor!Tae x reader genre : artist!au word count : 3.8k

summary — Taehyung, a formerly renowned artist, slowly reconnects with his art and catches himself falling for a girl whom sculpting leaves indifferent. That is until the day he discovers she is the critique’s daughter who caused his downfall after her libellious review on his latest work.

warnings — clay play?? oral, unprotected sex

moodboard

“Why did you step too hard?” Laughs Taehyung.

“It’s not my fault.” You pout watching him grab with one hand the big piece of clay that you’ve just sent crashing to the ground. “You set the speed too high.”

He slams the clay hard on the wheel, startling you.

He huffs, “right, my mistake.” He wets his hands and bends over you, “wan’ me centring it for you?” You nod with a small pout. He steps on the pedal and the turntable begins rotating at a nice pace. “Scoot forward a bit.”

You allow him to sit on the large stool behind you and focus on his hands expertly pressing the rough ball of clay up and down repeatedly. The muscles in his arms bulge a little in his attempt to get a perfect rotational symmetry.

He carefully retreats his hand when he hears you whine as your way to show your will to take over.

“You good on your own?”

You nod while wetting your hands. “You can go now.”

Taehyung stands up, takes two steps back and rubs his cheek with the back of his wrist, observing you trying to make a centred hollow. “Don’t need to go any faster.”

His lips stretch in a crooked smile when you don’t answer, totally focused.

His eyes travel down your back to the short shorts half-covering your enticing curves when you sit up. He chews his gum again while ogling your thighs and legs involuntarily tensing, making him twitch in his pants.

You catch him staring and whine, “go!”

He grins cheekily. “‘Right… I’m leaving you alone.”

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

His desire got the better of him and half an hour later, you hear him shuffling back in his workshop where you are still busy making pottery.

You haven’t changed your position on the stool and so he decides to sit back behind you. You feel his hand sneak between your legs to lean on the small free space you left of the chair, molding his chest to your back.

He nuzzles your hair, “are you done?”

“Hm, I finished the first ball,” you explained without averting your eyes from the ball of clay flattening under your fingers.

Taehyung finds your creation sitting on the small table on the left. He pulls away from you to take a closer look at the small vase. It isn’t the best one but to him it looks perfect.

“What’s wrong with you?” He wonders to himself. “At this rate, Jimin will ask you to teach instead of me.”

You smile at his words, remembering the small workshop adjoining Jimin’s flower shop he works in as a pottery teacher.

He puts the object back on the table and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Aaah,” you sigh and stretch your neck and shoulders. “I can’t do this.”

“Why, why, why?” He asks when he feels you resting against him. “Are you giving up?”

You nod, sulking. He chuckles looking down at you. “What’s wrong? What are you trying to make?”

You sit up and smile embarrassed, “I don’t even know. I just want to shape the walls with the same thickness but I’m just making the hole larger.”

“Want me to help?” He leans forward as well and rests his arms on your thighs. You nod. “Let’s see.”

He wets his hands and you withdraw yours.

“Let’s just start again. It’ll be easier that way.”

He nimbly prepares a third ball until he’s about to open it. He guides your hand on the wet clay and together you start hollowing it until the hole is big enough for your hands to go in.

“Put your hand here and the other one here,” he mumbles as he places you. “Keep track of the pressure you apply with your fingers.”

“No,” you cry when you feel him letting go, making him whine in return.

“You’re doing good.”    

He keeps one hand on yours and makes circles with his hurting shoulder.

“See? You’re learning fast.” He kisses the crook of your neck.

Without you realizing it, you’re left shaping on your own.

The heady scent of your hair stirs his initial motive and has him pressing his half hard-on against your ass as his coated hands trail along your thighs.

“Tae…”

He hums in response, relishing the rush of blood you’re causing, swelling him rapidly. You’re feeling it and your hands are getting weaker.

“I’m gonna mess it all over again.” You whimper while he’s lifting up your shirt and smears clay on your naked breasts.

“Forget about it, I want you.” He moans in your ear when your ass rubs his cock . His hand cups your jaw to guide and trap your mouth in his. You welcome his dominant tongue and melt in his touch but part to grunt after he’s begun to rub your clit over your shorts, nudging harder the tent in his pants.  

You feel yourself getting wetter but his fingers regrettably become unsatisfying. You take your feet off the pedal just in time when you’ve eventually realised the wheel’s picked up in pace.

A yelp of surprise leaves you when Taehyung effortlessly lifts and puts you down on the table nearby, growing quickly impatient as well. He helps you out of your clothes and undresses himself while you’re kissing him and painting his chest, neck and the hair at his nape.

You glance down and feel yourself clenching instantly at the sight of his painfully hard erection standing thick and throbbing in front of your bare sex. You desperately need a taste of him.

Taehyung catches your lips again and gently lays you on your back, following you in the motion not to break the kiss.

You moan in his mouth, he breaks apart to nibble on your neck as he steadily humps his leaking cock against your sensitive entrance and clit.

“It’s so slippery,” he grunts against your skin, gripping firmly on the edge of the table to rub himself harder. The clay has dried on your hands but you’re still able to feel the softness of his hair when your fingers interlace it.

Bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you claw his asscheek, your hand acting as an incentive to him.

“Baby…”

He cranes his neck to gaze down at you, a subtle frown adorning his gorgeous face. “What’s wrong babe?” He smirks at your frustrated look, “can’t take it anymore?”

“I’m fucking going crazy...”  

His eyes travel down naturally when you arch your back to leer at your chest pushing up directly in his face. His open mouth waters. His deep voice leaves him in a restrained whimper, “baby… Fuck…I can’t hold it.”

He supports himself above you, high enough to be able to visually guide his cock inside you without his hands.

You feel your pussy clenching expectantly every time his swollen tip brushes or pokes at your drenched entrance.

“Fuck,” he groans disgruntled. “I can’t put it in.”

“Let’s just go shower.”

Taehyung pulls you back to him to kiss and grope you while you wait for the water to get to the ideal temperature.

He washes his hands and turns you around. You crane your neck to the side to kiss him again while his palms rub your breasts clean. His fingers start playing with your pointing nipples and your hand presses on his nape.

“Let me suck on them,” he whines, turning you back to him.

Your smile falters the longer he keeps abusing the sensitive skin and you don’t want him to stop anytime soon. He grunts when you tug at his dampen hair.

You whine his name in despair and he doesn’t need more to eventually grant you some relief. His fingers blindly look for your throbbing heat, running his tips along your slit and rubbing tiny circles on your neglected clit.

He’s pleasing you just the way you love it but you don’t give him the time to even slip a finger inside you when you tell him to stop.

Just as he is straightening himself up, you drop down on your knees and take his cock in your mouth.

“____-” He moans helplessly, throwing his head back. “Baby, stop- I… I wanna be inside you-”

You shove his pulsing shaft as deep as you can, gagging on it soundly. Caught out, his mouth freezes open a couple of seconds before you pull out of him loud groans and cusses. He’s throbbing dangerously hard between your lips and he immediately forces you back up on your feet.

Satisfied, you look up at him and he chuckles. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.” He kisses you while walking you back against one of the walls. “Put me inside you.”

Moans come pouring out of you when he doesn’t let you adjust to his girth, relentlessly fucking you open.

His mouth is hovering yours, you can’t look away from his frowning face as you feel yourself getting close.

You move your hand away from his tensed up chest to rub your clit and trigger your orgasm.

Taehyung kisses you when he feels you tightening even harder around him. The leg he’s holding up begins to shake and he decides to hold you in his arms, impaling you all the way down.

“Huh… I love you.”

His ardor doesn’t ease up, overstimulating so much so tears start brimming your closed eyes.

As long as he would have liked this to last, he isn’t able to hold himself back anymore.

“I’m gonna cum.”

You try to get a grip on yourself and tap on his hand so he’ll let go of your legs. He frees one but is unable to stop his thrusting. He nuzzles your neck.

“Tae, don’t cum inside me.”

“Why not? I wanna fuck my cum in you- Shit… I can tell it’s turning you on” He whimpers in a small pout, his climax pending. His cock is brimming.

He nudges your nose. “Let me get you swollen with my baby, so you have a reason to move in with me.”

You smile coyly, “tempting but… We can’t... A- at least, not now.”

Taehyung lingers his gaze on you, fucked out and reluctantly pulls out with a curse.

You kneel down a second time and watch him guide his cock in your mouth with a push of his thumb at the base of his pulsing shaft. He’s breathing hard again when the warmth of your mouth welcomes him hungrily.

You look up and start bobbing your head, dragging your tongue and lips along the wet, veiny skin three times before the first spurt of cum shoots inside.

He lets you jerk him off, coating your breasts and chin with his sticky sperm and you can’t help but giggle at the endless amount that keeps being squirted out with every forward motion of your hand.

You suck his sensitive tip clean, overstimulating him which has him jerking in surprise.

He helps you up and you never look away from him while you scoop with your fingertip some of his semen and bring it to your mouth.

“What a waste.” He bites his lip, staring at the mess on your skin under heavy lids. “I wanna go again.”  

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

Spent, you’re both lying still on his large bed, resting in the darkness.  

You chuckle to yourself when a thought pops in your head.

Taehyung nudges you sleepily, “what is it?”

“Do you remember how angry you were when Jimin told you who my mother was?”

“Yeah… Your bruises lasted a whole week.”

You giggle quietly again. “I really had no idea.”

He doesn’t hear you immediately, too enthralled by the sight of your fingers slowly interlacing over and over again.

“About my mom…”

You feel him nudging his nose in the crook of your neck and breathing in quietly.

“I really don’t mind it… That’s behind me now.”

You look over your shoulder and see him still holding his weight on his arm, slightly leaning over your body as he gazed down at you. You barely distinguish each other in the darkness of his room yet neither one of you looks away.

You roll over to lie on your back and bring his hand between you. “How come your hands are still that soft?”

“They’re not,” he chuckles lightly.

“They are.” You object, observing it as you move it closer to your face. “They really are. I like them.”

You make Taehyung smile lazily the longer he feels you touching him. His long fingers trap both of your hands and he kisses them. “Your hands are the soft ones. They’re baby soft. It’s hard to believe you’ve done anything with them. They’re cute.”

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

You peek one eye open and close it as soon as you notice Taehyung’s face right in front of you. You slowly drape an arm around his neck and he hugs you to him in return, rubbing his face in your hair.

“What are you doing?” You mumble against his skin.

“Me? Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“You look cute sleeping.” He glances down at your frowning face when you push yourself apart from him. “What ? You don’t believe me?”

“No.”

“How can you be so sure of that, hm? You can’t see yourself sleeping…” You hide in his neck again, making him crack a smile. His hand travels down your back to smack your ass. “Silly baby…”

You don’t hear what he says at first when he speaks again.

“I think I want to sculpt something again.”

“Really?” You perk up, delighted. “That’s great. What do you have in mind?”

He gives you a childish smile. “You. You’re the only thing in my mind.”

You frown discomfited while your brain processes his words. “What? Are you serious?”

His eyes look away as he combs his fingers through your hair, dreading your reaction.

“I mean only if you’re okay with it of course.”

“I… Well, uhm- I think I am but... I’ve never… posed for anyone before… I don’t know if I’ll be a good model.”

His eyes light up. “You’ll see it’s nothing too complicated. You actually won’t have to pose for a long time.”

“How do you exactly see me?”

His hand caresses your cheek. “Like you are right now but... not in bed.”

The thought makes you smile reluctantly.

“Well I wasn’t thinking of you completely naked… I think if we used some sort of silk shawl or veil… I was thinking I could make it seem like it’s swirling around you or something and it could be covering some parts of you, like your face...”

He watches you ponder his suggestion. You seem intrigued.

“I was actually sketching you. Earlier. That’s when I got the idea. I’ll draw a draft so you’ll see what I mean and make up your mind.”

You both remain quiet. You observe him gazing down at your body, tracing it above the thin sheet barely covering you, surely thinking about the different ways he’s already picturing you.

You’ve never seen him like that before.

“You hungry?” His voice snaps you out of your daydream. “I prepared some toasts and fruits and other things...”

You nod while shifting to lie on your back and stretch longly, giving him access to your bare breasts and he doesn’t need to be persuaded to cover them with loving kisses.

You cup the back of his head and the next second he’s hovering over your face, claiming your mouth in a sloppy kiss.

“You don’t mind if I get to eat breakfast first.”

You bite your lip, “please do.”

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

You disrobe entirely in his room and put on the kimono you had brought with you. You walk toward his studio where you hear some rummaging coming from. You peek your head past the door and note he is almost finished preparing the set.

Classical music is playing in the background, setting a comfortable atmosphere. Taehyung has his back turned to you and is holding something.

You subtly clear your throat, earning his attention instantly. His short ponytail swings when he looks back before he reveals his bare chest and arms flexing while he nimbly finishes adjusting the heavy camera. You shamelessly feast your eyes on the sight of him and you share a smile with a knowing look.

He shortens the distance between you but keeps his focus on his camera for another couple of seconds. You are looking around patiently in silence. You’re able to see from your spot in the workshop different pieces of paper.

You walk closer to the table they’ve been put on and take one of them. A subtle smile curves your lips when you recognize yourself or rather the sketched version of you. Some of them have been left in shades of grey and white, others display a few pastel colours here and there.

You put the paper down.

Your chest is thudding loudly from within after you’ve caught a glimpse of the different veils bunched nearby.

“Okay.” He mumbles quietly and sets the impressive device on the worktable. “So first I’m going to take some pictures in the position I want you to be in. I need you to be super still because I need different viewing points of your body in that exact same position, ‘right?”

You smartly nod and he smiles again.

“I’ll tape up the veil on several parts of your body… I don’t really know how else to do it.” He admits with pouting lips.

“I think it’ll be fine that way… It’ll just have to not be heavy.”  

He agrees and walks away to fetch the fabrics while you keep your motivation there.

“I brought different ones, the color isn’t important.” He trails while coming back in front of you. “Ready?”      

Without hesitation, you let the kimono open itself, the soft fabric now able to slide down effortlessly along your body to pool around your feet. You look up at him.

If the sight of your bare body takes his breath away, he doesn’t let it show.

You notice the subtle squeeze his jaw makes while he’s getting an eyeful of you. Your lips part to let air rush in after he has gotten even closer, now towering over you.

Your face is instinctively pulled in when only a few inches separate you. The tips of the fabrics in his hands tickle the skin of your lower stomach. A light chuckle escapes him. You seem hypnotized.

“What is it?”

He’s looking down between you, faintly frowning. “You’re not going easy on me…”

“Too much too soon?” You giggle.

Your mouths are impossibly close but neither of you gives in. Taehyung reluctantly pulls back just in time.

A crooked smile adorns your lips while you watch him decide on the best fabric to don your enticing body and astutely find the spot where it will get taped up invisibly to you.

His fingers are barely brushing your skin, placing and replacing the veil around the tip of your feet and calf, in front of your crotch, winding it around your ribs right below the swell of your breast where a path of shivers awakens the skin. The other end of the fabric rolls up your nape to hide your face.

“Can you hold it for me?”

You raise your arm carefully to grasp the veil above your head, unable to see anything and waiting for further instruction. You hear him taking something you guess to be the camera.

“Shift your weight on your right foot.”    

White light flashes in short seconds three or four times. You try to remain as still as possible as he keeps on photographing you.

“You’re doing great,” you hear his voice behind you and light flashes again. “You cold?”

“I’m okay. Is it as good as you thought it’d be?”

He hums agreeing. “You can drop this now.”

You lower your arms and Taehyung circles your front to let you take a look at some of the pictures. He keeps a hand under to help hold the heavy camera.

Like any other photographs of you, you don’t think much of yourself but you trust his eye.

“I think it’ll look really great,” he speaks softly in your ear and gently presses himself against your back. “When I’m done with it I want myself to desire that body as much as I desire the real one.”

You are feeling everything but cold.

“I want people to feel that attraction and feel miserable because they’ll never be able to have you.”

You chuckle to yourself as you finish scrolling through all of the pictures. “You don’t have to be so dramatic, you know. What’s the next step?”

He brushes your hair to the side to kiss your neck. “Build a clay form of you.”

“And you’re able to do that from simple pictures?” You wonder as he takes the device from you.

“It’s the easiest step… but-” his hand grasps onto your hip to have your backside pushing against his twitching crotch, tearing a quiet grunt from him. “It’s preferable to have the model present.”

“Then... what are you waiting for?” You grin lightly, pushing back deliberately.

He whines and eventually takes the veil off of you and cups your breast. “There’s no rush-.”

“Hmm, that’s not very serious of you mister big artist.” You mock, looking back to face him.

“I told you, you weren’t making it easy for me...”

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

You walk in the room he’s reserved expressly for sculpting where he’s spent most of his time the past three months. The floor is covered with white residue and dust. The sculpture stands in the middle on a pedestal, imposing. Taehyung’s crouching, polishing the feet and ankles and doesn’t hear you at first.

You’ve never imagined once in your life you’d be facing a marble version of you, naked moreover but the final result is quite pleasing to your eye. You’ve never given much thought to anything art-related, your mother never managed to get you as much interested as she may have hoped for you to get.

You slowly walk around, make eye contact with him and guess his smile behind the mask he’s wearing.

“Is it nearly done yet?” You watch him standing up and removing the protective gear to join you.

“Almost…” He muses while redoing his loose bun. “I think by the end of this week it’ll be good enough.”

“Good enough?” You frown at him and look back again at his work. “Tae… I don’t think it can get anymore accomplished than that.”

He’s silent and still and it arouses your curiosity. “Is something wrong?”

“What?”

“You were having like... a weird moment- you were just staring…”

“Oh no, it’s nothing…” He answers a little flustered, getting rid of his dusty gloves. “I was just… fantasizing.”

“About what?” He shakes his head to himself but it’s too late. “Come on, tell me. I wanna know.”

“I was just thinking about sculpting your body… .”

You smile, waiting.

“But like... pregnant.”

Taehyung pouts at your sudden burst. “Why? Why are you laughing? You asked me, I answered you…” He turns again to gaze up at his creation. “You’d be fucking gorgeous.”

Your laughter calms. “I’d be fucking big.”

“You’d be fucking perfection.” He instantly counters.

“‘Right…” You start walking away. “When you’re done fantasizing, come join me. The pizza’s here!”

[prettyboyreid]

Spencer Reid x reader and the reader owns her own pottery shop where she sells the things she makes and hold classes on making pottery and the team comes in one day to relax and make some pots?? Maybe Spencer struggles more than everyone else and reader helps him and is super encouraging

my favorite piece of art

Spencer Reid x Reader

word count: 1,525

You flipped the sign at the front of your shop to “OPEN” once you watched the clock on the front wall hit 10:00 AM, wiping your hands on your smock as you made your way back to the front desk.  It was a special day today, because Spencer had taken it upon himself to make it a team bonding day at your pottery shop.  He had wanted his team to meet you for a while, and he figured it would be best if they met you in your shop; it was the best way to introduce them to what you do.

Just as your boyfriend had insisted, him and his team began filing into your small shop promptly after ten.  The first to arrive was Spencer, of course, and Penelope.  She insisted on coming in with him, just so she could meet you first.  She wore a bright top and a pair of worn down jeans, which was just about perfect for what you had suggested.  Spencer - as you had expected - had worn his usual attire: a button-up shirt and a pair of khaki pants.  

“Oh my God, you must be Y/N!” she said excitedly, making her way over to you quickly before wrapping her arms around you.  You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at how forward she was, hugging her back for a moment before she pulled away.  “I’m Penelope.  Oh, you look so much prettier in person!  Not that you weren’t pretty in the pictures he showed us,” she rambled slightly, only causing you to grin. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Penelope,” you said, smiling softly over at your boyfriend.  “I can get you two some smocks and set you up at a wheel while we wait for everyone else?” you suggested, heading to the hooks where you kept all of the smocks for customers to use. 

Emily and Aaron arrived next.  He had brought along his son, Jack, who smiled brightly and wondrously the second he entered the shop.  They greeted you immediately, not with quite as much enthusiasm as Penelope but still with smiles.  Jack excitedly looked around at the different pots and vases you had on display, making it very clear to anyone around him that he couldn’t wait to make one too. 

Rossi came with Morgan, both of them discussing something about cars as they arrived.  Derek, just as Spencer had warned you on multiple occasions, was quick to flirt with you.  Despite everyone knowing it was playful, you couldn’t help but smile as Spencer snuck up beside you and snuck his arm around your waist.  

Jennifer arrived last with her husband Will, both of them chattering and laughing with each other.  They greeted you with bright beautiful smiles, complimenting the workshop that you had worked on for the past five years. 

It didn’t take you long to get everyone set up.  You had made sure to place all of the wheels in a circular shape so they could all still talk to one another, making sure they all had slabs of clay before showing them how to use the throwing wheels.  They all seemed to be quick learners, but the resident genius seemed to have a few struggles. 

“Come on, pretty boy, just hold down on the pedal,” Morgan teased him, keeping his hands and the clay damp as he began to mold it into his desired shape.  Spencer did as he was told, but used the full force of his foot to step on the little pedal.  You couldn’t help but giggle as flecks of wet clay flew onto his face and smock, his face contorting into a confused frown before you got up and made your way over to him. 

“Here, Spence,” you said, sliding onto the stool in his place to show him how to use it.  You pressed lightly onto the pedal, making it go at different speeds as you demonstrated.  “Just… don’t overthink it,” you encouraged him, kissing a clean spot on his cheek before you returned to your seat.  You grinned as you noticed his cheeks tinting pink, and Morgan nudged him playfully with a grin. 

They all shaped their little pottery creations as they joked around with each other, simultaneously making more of a mess than a group of second graders you had a few weeks back.  But you could feel the love and happiness they all radiated together.  It brightened up the room and covered you with a warm feeling, one that you really only felt with Spencer. 

It was nice. 

Hotch, Emily, and Derek all made little bowls.  Emily said she wanted hers for a candy dish on her desk, Derek wanted his for cereal, and Jack said his dad wanted his for soup.  Rossi, Penelope, and Will made key dishes, though Penelope claimed that hers was for putting her favorite little unicorn on display by her computers.  Jennifer, Jack, and Spencer all made vases, though Spencer’s was caved in a bit and slightly lopsided.  He was very proud of it, nonetheless. 

They all decided they would come back in a few days so they could come back and glaze them, all of them helping clean up the place a bit as you loaded their art into the kiln.  You came back into the studio to see them cleaning and wiping down the wheels, still smiling and joking around while they did it.  It was quite admirable of them, if you were being honest.  They were hot shots that had much more important jobs than you, but were still humble enough to help clean up the mess they had made. 

They insisted on taking me out to dinner with them, since I didn’t close the workshop until six.  They told me where to meet them and at one time, bidding me farewell and thanking me for the use of my workshop.

Spencer was adamant on spending his free day with me, even if it was just hanging out in the almost empty shop all day.  He sat at the front desk with me, looking through all of the different pictures of art and pieces of art I had filed away.  Despite being a man of science, he seemed to find a fascination and admiration for art.  (In all honesty, you thought that he only said that since he started dating you, but you thought it was cute either way.)

Since Spencer was staying with you for the day, you wanted to surprise him with a vase he had made a while back with you that you had never gotten around to actually firing.  He had glazed it the last time he had a day off, and while he hadn’t seen it yet, he had been very proud of it.  When you retrieved it from the back room, he smiled brightly at the glossy finish it had.  It looked a lot like the one he had just made shape wise, but it had a baby blue glaze mixed with drops of violet glaze all over it.  

He smiled brightly as soon as he saw it, taking it in his hands and examining it the same way he looked at his dissertation on engineering.  However, whenever he gets excited, he becomes a little clumsy, as we all know.  He got up to go wrap the vase before his slightly sweaty hands dropped it onto the tile floor, and you watched as his face dropped quickly.  

“I’m so sorry,” was his immediate reaction, leaning down to pick up the large pieces that he had dropped moments before.  He moved to throw them away before you rested your hand on your shoulder, taking the pieces from him and setting them on the desk before digging through your drawers.

“When my mom went to Japan,” you began to explain to him, getting out some glue from the middle drawer before applying some of the industrial glue to the edges, carefully holding them against each other as the glue quickly dried.  “She told me that instead of throwing out broken vases, some of them would glue them back together.”  You quickly were able to restore the vase, smiling up at him before grabbing some gold enamel from the drawer as well.  

“They also add a little bit of some enamel to the cracks, to make them stand out a bit,” you explained, generously applying the enamel.  “Some argued that it even made the vases more beautiful than they were before,” you finished, setting down a small paintbrush you had used to cover the cracks.

You looked up at Spencer, who had watched you intently with a smile before looking back to the vase.  “This has got to be my second favorite piece of art in the world,” he said dramatically, inspecting it a bit closer without touching it.

“Oh, really?” you teased, wiping your hands off on your smock.  “What’s your first?  The Golden Ratio?” you joked, looking up at him from your seat on the stool.

“Nope,” he said, not looking away from the vase as he looked at all the little imperfections you had perfected for him. “You are.”

[sunshinejihyun]

The Shape of Love || Jihyun Kim

Summary: A date night turns into discovering how deep their love runs for the first time

Word Count: 2.8K

Masterlist

After Jihyun Kim had come back from his self healing journey and had confessed his feelings to you, he thought your relationship would be smooth sailing from that moment on. Little did he know, he would become a nervous, stuttering mess every time your hands so much as grazed his own and his whole neck would flush red when he caught you staring at him with admiration.

So this is what it was like to be loved unconditionally. It was a nice feeling, it kept him warm on the coldest nights, but it wasn’t something he was used to. To better acclimate to the feeling of a new relationship, after some time you and he had decided that you would have a date night once a week. You both would each switch back and forth on who planned it and the whole goal was to just spend time with each other outside of the RFA messenger app and hiding from Mint Eye.

It was a good idea too, Jihyun had learned so much about you just from the places you took him and he only hoped his soul was being displayed for you as brightly as yours was for him.  On your fourth official date, Jihyun decided he wanted to take you somewhere special to him, somewhere where you could create art together. What better way to explore each others souls than to create something beautiful and straight from the heart together?

“Jihyun, won’t you please tell me where you’re taking me?” you giggled and Jihyun felt his stomach do a flip at that sound. That sound: one of his favorite things in the world. Something that he wished he could paint so that he could never forget it. It was a sound that made him forget where he was and just made him stop to listen in amazement at one of the things about that brought a feeling of serenity.

“It’s a surprise, patience.” Jihyun hummed softly, grazing your hand with his own before pulling away, not before flushing red across his nose. “We’ll be there soon.”

You and Jihyun were walking side by side on a sidewalk in the city. It was a warm summer night and you held a light coverup in one hand, leaving the other closest to Jihyun swinging freely in hopes that he might envelope it with his own. He didn’t, he never did, which is fine. You knew he loved you and that he just needed time to get used to being in a relationship again. You wouldn’t push him, being patient would give you more of a reward in the long run. Not that you needed a reward, just even being in Jihyun’s presence was more than enough for you.

“Then can you at least give me a hint as to what we’re doing.” You pleaded and this time you hesitantly wrapped your free arm around his closest to you. You felt him shudder underneath you before gently pulling away and sending you a kind smile. “Sorry.”

“We’re going to get a little messy today. I hope you don’t mind, I brought you an extra tee shirt of mine so your dress wouldn’t get ruined.” Jihyun’s clear eyes sought out your own and your heartbeat sped up just with your eyes meeting.

“I don’t mind, thank you darling.” Jihyun’s gait slowed and you followed with him, standing outside of a darkened building. “What’s this?”

“Our date location.” He sent you a cheeky wink before pulling out a key from a chain under his shirt. “I hope you like pottery.”

As he opened the door and ushered you in, your senses were bombarded with the smell of wet clay and you glanced at Jihyun hesitantly. “I can’t say I’ve ever tried, to be quite honest.”

Your lover sent you a soft smile and quietly handed you the extra tee he had promised you. “That’s alright, love. I can show you.” As he turned on the lights, you noticed the way Jihyun walked around with a sense of familiarity and fondness. “I’ve been coming here for a few weeks now. I’m no expert, but I do think I’ve got the hang of it.” You watched as he sat down in front of a pottery wheel with a clump of wet clay in front of him. “Want to come over here and we can work on something together?”

You silently padded your way over to him and sat down behind him on the bench, your head straining to see anything above his shoulders. Jihyun chuckled and adjusted himself so you both were sitting thigh to thigh, one of his arms wrapped around your waist and that same hand connected with your own as he started guiding you in kneading out all the bubbles in the clay.

You relished in the feeling of his bare thigh pressing against your own, of his arm around your waist and the way his lithe fingers guided yours gently, but also in a way that exuded strength. Jihyun’s hands were something of a sculpture to you; his fingers were long and gentle and the way that he held everything with such grace was something that you wished you could display like a painting.

“Here darling, like this.” Jihyun’s hands covered your own completely and guided you to press out the last of the bubbles with more intensity than before.

Feeling his eyes watching you, you turned your face up to Jihyun’s and your nose brushed against his softly. “Hi,” you breathed out, afraid to move in case you startled him.

“Hi,” he whispered back before moving his hand from yours to push back a piece of loose hair that had fallen out of place behind your ear. “You’re beautiful.”

Your face flushed and you broke eye contact with the boy you loved. “Jihyun,”

Jihyun gently grabbed your chin, smearing it with clay, and he forced your eyes to meet his again. “Don’t,” his soft voice came out firm and your mouth opened slightly in shock. “You’re beautiful. Please allow me to tell you that.”

“You’re beautiful too, Jihyun.” You whispered back, taking your free hand and resting it against his cheek. “Your soul shines so brightly.” Leaning into your hand and not caring about the clay getting all over his face, Jihyun closed his eyes peacefully and as you moved your other hand to his other cheek, you inched your way closer to him, close enough that you could feel his breath on your lips. “Is this okay?”

Jihyun closed the small gap between you two hesitantly and you sucked in a sharp breath as his lips met yours sweetly. As your heartbeat started picking up, so did the intensity of the kiss. Jihyun’s tongue swiped softly over your lip before you opened your mouth to meet his tongue with your own and his hands moved into your hair, holding your head with such tenderness that you didn’t want to move, even if you could. A soft moan escaped from Jihyun’s mouth as you gently nipped at his bottom lip before soothing it over with your tongue and pulling away.

“I am so in love with you.” Jihyun’s words brought blood rushing to your ears and you rested your forehead against his, your noses brushing with every breath you both took.

“I’m in love with you too, Jihyun.” He pressed another light kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling away slightly.

Taking one look at you, Jihyun started to laugh and once you took a look at him, you started to laugh as well. The pair of you continued to laugh until there were tears streaming down your faces and you were doubled over and leaning on each other for support. “We look ridiculous.” Jihyun smoothed his hand over your hair, frowning at the clay matted in it. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you smiled, lacing your fingers together with his own. “This has been our best date yet.” Jihyun repositioned himself behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands on top of your own. “So, artist Kim Jihyun, what are we molding today?”

As his foot gently pressed down on the pedal that spun the wheel, he guided you hands to start a bowl shape. “How about a flower vase?”  You hummed in agreement and he continued. “It’s something we can use on our kitchen table.”

“Good idea, darling.” You murmured, looking over your shoulder and studying your lover's face as his brow furrowed in concentration. “Next week you and I will have to go flower picking for flowers to go in the vase.”

“I would like that. Maybe you’d let me paint you laying in the flowers?” Jihyun’s hands stilled for a moment for him to look at you and you smiled softly before nodding your head and kissing his cheek. The rest of the time spent shaping the vase was in a calm quiet, both of you relishing in the comfort of being around the other. “We will have to wait for the shop owner to come in tomorrow to put it in the kiln and then we can choose to leave it blank or we can paint it.”

“What will give me another date quicker?” You asked as you ran your joint hands under hot water, you and Jihyun both taking turns scrubbing the clay out from under your nailbeds.

“If it would make you happy, we could go on a date every day.” Jihyun answered as he watched you pull off his tee shirt you had previously put on over your dress and a blush covered his cheeks when more of your thighs started to get exposed as your dress rose up from the action. “Let me help.”

You couldn’t help but notice as his gaze lingered on your bare chest that was flushed red with the feeling of Jihyun being so close to you. “Thank you.”

Jihyun bent down and stole another quick kiss from you, causing both of you to giggle. “Thank you, for this wonderful date. Now, what do you say we head back to my place and open a bottle of wine?” Jihyun held his arm out for you to wrap your free one around, much like you tried to do earlier and you smiled at him before doing so, comfortably easing your way into his side as he led you to his home. “If you would like, you can take a shower to get the clay out of your hair. I can give you one of my shirts and some pants to wear home, I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable.”

“I’d like that, thank you Jihyun.” You stole a quick glance at the man to find him already watching you, a soft smile painting his lips and as you opened your mouth to speak again, he covered your lips with his own.

This was a sweeter, a lazier kiss than the one you both shared earlier but nonetheless, it still left you breathless and wanting more. That was a common theme in your relationship with Jihyun: you always selfishly wanted more. More time spent in his presence, more stolen glances and brushes of your hands against one another. There was something just so intoxicating about being around him.

“Go on then, you know where the bathroom is. I will set some clothes for you to wear on my bed and then cue up a movie to watch.” Jihyun reluctantly released you from his grasp and you felt his eyes trail you the entire time you walked to the bathroom.

Humming to yourself, you turned on the warm water and stepped into the shower, taking comfort in the smell that could only be described as Jihyun. Sweet and spicy with a small hint of paint that always constantly lingered on his skin and after you dried off and dressed yourself in some light blue silk pajama pants and one of his signature black tees that he laid out for you, you met him in the living room.

“You look comfortable.” He noted, handing you a glass of wine and you took it from him, settling down on the couch next to him. “I hope you don’t mind that I put this movie on.” You glanced at the screen and was met with Zen’s face, contorted in something you could only hope was anguish. You raised your eyebrows at Jihyun, an amused smile playing on your lips. “It’s actually good if you watch it.”

“Sure,” you agreed, leaning your head on his shoulder and Jihyun sighed contentedly as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t you want to take a shower too?”

Jihyun ruffled his damp hair and you shrieked as some water droplets covered your face. “Already ahead of you.” Before you could respond, Jihyun repositioned himself to where he was sitting facing you, his nose touching yours. “Would you mind if I tried something?”

You silently nodded your head, your breath caught in your throat and Jihyun brought his hands up to your face, lightly running his fingertips over your forehead, eyelids, down your nose and tracing your lips, almost like he was trying to memorize every single curve of your face. You shuddered under his touch as his fingers traced down your neck and dipped into your shirt, gently covering your collarbones with soft touches. As his hands reached your face again, Jihyun covered your lips with his own and you let out a soft sigh. His hands roaming over your shoulders and down to your hips, brushing the bare skin underneath the loose tee shirt you were wearing was a distant memory as his lips followed the curve of your neck. Your hands that were previously by your side had woven their way into his hair and you urged him to continue with his slew of kisses.

As his kisses turned more passionate, his hands wandered under your shirt, gently brushing your stomach with his knuckles and you did the same, your hands slipping under the unbuttoned part of his shirt and his chest quivered under your touch as he explored more of your bare skin. Pulling away from your exposed collarbones, Jihyun looked at you with his eyes wide, chest heaving up and down. He held you close for a moment, both of you opting to stay quiet and sip on your wine. After a beat of silence, Jihyun opened his mouth to speak. “Thank you for being patient with me.”

“Jihyun, loving you is a great blessing,” you admitted, brushing back a strand of his hair that had fallen into his eyes. “You have nothing to thank me for, I’m willing to wait for you as long as you need, you know that.”

“I’m tired of having you wait.” Jihyun cupped your face in one hand and rubbed gentle circles on your cheek. “I’m tired of waiting. I waited two years to see you again, I can’t stand not being without you for one moment more.”

You pressed a kiss to his palm, covering your hand with his own. “Then don’t,” you replied softly. “Be with me, let me be yours. I love you, Jihyun.”

“I love you, MC.” Jihyun replied, kissing you once more. “I cannot wait until our next date night.”

“Flower picking will be lovely,” you hummed, settling in so your back was against his solid chest, Jihyun wrapping one arm around your waist, the other bringing the wine glass back up to his lips. “Shall we restart Zen’s movie so we can tell him we saw it?”

Jihyun brushed a kiss against your temple and your senses were filled with him. “If that’s what you’d like to do, darling. I’m happy just sitting and holding you like this all night.”

You laughed and turned to press a kiss against his adams apple. “Or we could do that,” you agreed, turning off the TV and starting in on mindless chatter with Jihyun.

After that night, Jihyun and your relationship was smooth sailing. You two were drawn to each other like a moth to a flame and you would have it no other way. To anyone else, waiting for someone for two years was a something of a nightmare, especially when you weren’t sure they would come back to you. But to you, the wait was worth it; you would wait a million more years just to be able to love Jihyun Kim for even a moment.

Every time you passed by your kitchen table in your house you shared with Jihyun, you stopped to adjust the flowers in the lopsided vase that you and he had sculpted that night many years ago. It was a reminder of the night you molded your two souls together, never looking back at any regrets of the past after that moment.