but i loved how hopeful van gogh was in his art

🔷 Irises

Originally posted by talk-me-down-troye

Summary: You and Yoongi hate each other but somehow you still have feelings for him. 

Pairing: Painter!Yoongi x reader

Genre:  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) u kno 

Words: 5k 

A/N: I really like ‘enemies to lovers’ fanfictions so I decided to write one. I hope you like it. I apologize for any errors.


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Sketch || Jughead Jones

Request from @carmineofmidgardHey !!i was wondering if you could write something with artist!reader x jughead fluff ? These are some Van Gogh quotes that I like, you could use them as like prompts: Art is to console those who are broken by life.

A/N: This my first oneshot ever written! I hope this fulfills your request!

Gif by @juptern

—————

“Art is to console those who are broken by life.” -Vincent Van Gogh

Saying you’ve had a tough life was an understatement. Your father had left the family when you were very little to be with his secretary leaving you and your mom alone. Your mom, while you adored her, kept pushing for you to become a doctor. She wanted you to have a successful and self-sustaining career; one that she never got to have. You on the other hand wanted to be an artist. Ever since your dad left, you loved to draw pictures of fantasy. Castles, dragons, princesses, and princes. Anything that could draw your mind away from your mom crying at night and less frequent phone calls from your happy father was a plus. Eventually, your drawings evolved into portraits. Well, secret portraits. You drew almost everyone in the school, but no one more than Jughead Jones III. Jughead fascinated you, and truth be told, you had a crush on him. How you could crush on someone that you knew nothing about and who didn’t even know your name was anyone’s best guess. As far as you could tell, the only thing you and Jughead had in common was the fact that you were both loners. That’s it.

You and Jughead had off fifth period and you both spent that time in the library, but not sitting next to each other or even near each other. Unfortunately, Reggie and his group also hung out in the library. It was an average Friday and you had just sat down in your chair in the library when Jughead came in, sitting in a chair across the room from you. Just as you pulled your sketchbook to draw, he pulled out his laptop to write. What he was writing, you had no idea. You began to draw the simple outlines of his face, gently moving your pen along the paper. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows and you attempted to capture his facial structure and his emotions. You were so immersed with your drawing that you didn’t notice Reggie peering of your shoulder wearing a wolfish grin. He waited for the librarian to leave the room to copy some papers before he stood up and made his way over to you. Within the span of a second, Reggie quickly pulled the sketchbook from your hands, loudly proclaiming,

“Well, what do we have here, Y/N?”

Everyone in the library looked up from what they were doing, including Jughead. In a flash, you were on your feet, attempting to get your sketchbook back from Reggie.

“Give it back, Reggie!”

Reggie chortled as he looked through your sketches. He had struck gold.

“Everyone, look! Y/N’s got a thing for Norman Bates over here!”

Reggie held up your sketches for everyone to see. Panic and embarrassment flooded your senses and tears began to well up in your eyes as everyone began to laugh at you. Everywhere you looked you could see people laughing. Then you made eye contact with Jughead. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. He was looking at you intensely, but he wasn’t glaring. There was a look of concern there as well. It was too much for you to bear and you quickly ran out of the library, down the hallway, and out of the school. Knowing you couldn’t go home without your mother knowing you were skipping class, you began the trek to Pop’s.

Pop knew you were upset the moment you walked into the diner. You were always so exuberant, always saying hello and asking him about his family first chance you got. But now? You were silent. Pop looked over at you and smiled softly.

“You want the usual?”

You nodded and sat in one of the booths, your back facing the door. Pop came over with a chocolate milkshake.

“It’s on me.” Pop said and winked.

You smiled gratefully at him and slowly sipped the milkshake, the familiar taste bringing you some relief. Then you remembered you left your backpack in the library. Your sketchbook. Reggie probably still had it. He was probably running copies of your sketches of Jughead to put up all over the school to humiliate you as much as he could. You felt the hot sting of tears coming back as you remembered the laughs and Jughead’s stare and quickly wiped them away. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, just thinking about the day’s events before a jingle sounded out around the diner as the front door opened. You didn’t pay much attention to it, swirling your straw around the almost empty glass before you heard something being placed down on the floor beside you. You looked to your side and saw your backpack along with a figure standing right next to you. You knew those black pants and shoes. You froze as you realized who it was and slowly looked up, making eye contact for the second time that day with Jughead Jones III who had your sketchbook in his hand.

“I believe this is yours,” he said as he handed it to you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shakily took the sketchbook back.

“Y/N, right?”

You nodded.

“Yes.”

Your quiet voice was raw from crying and Jughead took notice. He gestured to the seat in front of you.

“Can I sit?”

You nodded, not trusting your own voice. With a quiet “thanks,” he took a seat and the two of you were silent for a moment. You swallowed again. You had to say something.

“How did you know where I was?”

You mentally smacked yourself. Really, out of everything you could’ve said, that’s what your brain came up with? Jughead raised his eyebrows at you.

“I didn’t actually. I came here because I was gonna grab a bite to eat before dropping your stuff off at your house.”

Your cheeks became bright red as you imagined Jughead in your house. Not that you’ve fantasized about that way too many times.

“Well, um, thank you. For giving me back my sketchbook and backpack and all,” you said. “How did you get them back?”

You remembered Reggie’s mean laugh as he held the sketchbook above your head and flinched at the memory. Jughead chuckled at your question.

“It wasn’t easy, let’s just say that.”

You smiled for the first time since the morning and looked down.

“They’re really good,” Jughead said.

You looked up at him inquisitively.

“Your sketches I mean.”

Your heart plunged to your stomach again as you remembered his stare across the room. You looked down again.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “It probably looks like I’m some weird stalker or something.”

You were silent as you waited for his response.

“Aw, that’s a shame,” Jughead said and you looked up at him again, confused by his nonchalant response. “I was kinda hoping you were. Would’ve made a great storyline for my novel.”

He smirked at you and you, realizing he was joking, smiled along with him. Jughead pointed at your empty glass.

“Can I buy you another milkshake?”

You smiled.

“I’d like that.”

—————

A/N: I hope that was okay! Let me know what you thought!

Kalopsia (M)

» the belief that things appear more beautiful than they are.

Summary: Jungkook’s a photographer who has a knack for finding the beauty in the simple things.
Word Count: 10,623
Genre: Photographer!Jungkook + angst/smut/fluff 
Warnings: Mentions of death 
A/N: Based on this song. This is incredibly long, and I’m sorry.

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Artistic Escape - Jughead Jones Imagine (Riverdale)

Warnings: None

Request: @carmineofmidgard:Hey!! I was wondering if you could write something with artist!reader x jughead fluff ? These are some Van Gogh quotes that I like, you could use them as like prompts for your
Just thought these would make really cute jughead fluff / comfort one shots :

Art is to console those who are broken by life.

Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.

Love always brings difficulties, that is true, but the good side of it is that it gives energy.

Summary: The reader is feeling a little neglected by Jughead as his curiosity with Jason Blossom’s murder uncovers secrets that causes the reader to become more spooked by the incident.  

A/N: I’m sorry its quite short but I did manage to use all of the Van Gogh quotes :) Also check out @carmineofmidgard‘s drawings!! How cool are they? xx

Every since the murder of Jason Blossom, tensions have been rising. Friends are being suspicious of friends, relationships are being strained as new facts arise. Being Jughead’s partner doesn’t make you feel any safer. No. because your boyfriend has taken it upon himself to form his own investigation, which now also includes you. Now investigating wiht Jughead is fun, but constantly sneaking around does have its toll. And for you, it’s your relationship. Spending time with Jughead is nice, but when all your focus is on Jason Blossom, your escape becomes your prison. In order to prevent yourself from feeling neglected, you took to drawing your emotions. Most of the time your sketches are of Jughead, with the one you’re currently sketching being no exception.

Art is to console those who are broken by life.

“Hey (Y/N),” jughead greets as he pulls out his laptop, starting to continue on his novel.

“Hey,” you both work in silence before Jughead notices something strange in your behaviour.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

“Hmm? Oh, yea I’m alright.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he quirks an eyebrow at you in response. “I’ve just been worried lately,”

“About?”

“Jason Blossom.”

“Oh?”

“Yea, the more we investigate, the more this safe, homey town becomes the stuff of horror movies.”

“You know that I’m always by your side, you’re never alone.”

“Doesn’t stop the nightmares though,” you mumble.

“(Y/N), I love you. And even though there might be a killer on the loose I will always be there to protect you and if the nightmares keep haunting you, call me. Any time, any where, I will be there for you.” He pauses, looking out the window of the booth. “How about you and me have a movie night Friday, you and me at the Twilight and we can just relax and get our minds off of this whole ordeal. What do you say?”

Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.

Here you are waiting for Jughead after school for your movie night. You’ve got lollies stashed in your bag even though you know you guys will stop on the way to buy snacks. You spot a glimpse of the grey beanie that belongs to your boyfriend.

“Hey Juggy,” you smile, excited for the night’s events.

“Hey (N/N), ready to go?” You both start walking to the corner store hand-in-hand. After buying out almost the entire confectionary section of the store you both get settled into Jughead’s little bunker.

“So what should we start with first?” Jughead asks showing you all the options on Netflix.

“Hmmm…how about…The hunger games?” He looks at you before selecting the movie. You both get settled with you sitting in between his long legs and his head on your shoulder. Arms holding you protectively.

“I really do love you, you know,” he mumbles halfway through the movie. You go to look at him only to be met with his lips on yours.

“I love you too Juggy,” you breathlessly whisper after pulling away for air. He smiles at you before pecking your lips quickly and turning his attention back to the movie. You face the screen again as you lean back further into him, enjoying the rest of the movie night in his protective arms, glad you didn’t ruin this in a moment of weakness.

Love always brings difficulties, that is true, but the good side of it is that it gives energy.

A/N: Im so sorry its short, I don’t know what is going on with my writing today. I hope you enjoyed it!!

Y/N = Your name, N/N = nickname

[ @studymei‘s Inspirational quotes for bullet journals and whatever else your heart desires! ]

I have had a rather long collection of motivational and inspirational quotes on my computer for a while which I use for my white boards, exercise books and bullet journals. I thought it time I share them, because I know how difficult it can be to find any that strike a chord. 

I hope you find these useful! 

  • “The roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet.” ―Aristotle
  • “We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.” ― Kurt Vonnegut, Mother Night
  • “Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.” ― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 6: Fables and Reflections
  • “We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” ― Maya Angelou
  • “Pain is temporary. Quitting lasts forever.” ― Lance Armstrong, Every Second Counts
  • “I dream my painting and I paint my dream.” ― Vincent van Gogh
  • “Do you want to know who you are? Don’t ask. Act! Action will delineate and define you.” ― Thomas Jefferson
  • “You have power over your mind - not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.”― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
  • “You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.” ― Jack London
  • “It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up.” ― Babe Ruth
  • “There is no dishonor in losing the race. There is only dishonor in not racing because you are afraid to lose.” ― Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain
  • “A single day is enough to make us a little larger or, another time, a little smaller.” ― Paul Klee
  • “The problem with people is they forget that most of the time it’s the small things that count.” ― Jennifer Niven, All the Bright Places
  • “Life gives us choices. You either grab on with both hands and just go for it, or you sit on the sidelines.” ― Christine Feehan, Night Game
  • “Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.” ― Suzanne Weyn, Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium
  • “Dreams are only dreams until you wake up and make them real.” ― Ned Vizzini, It’s Kind of a Funny Story
  • “Take it easy, but take it.” ― Woody Guthrie
  • “A bruise is a lesson… and each lesson makes us better.” ― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
  • “Always remember, your focus determines your reality.” ― George Lucas
  • “Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you’re climbing it.” ― Andy Rooney
  • “Don’t tell me the sky’s the limit when there are footprints on the moon.” ― Paul Brandt
  • “All knowledge is worth having.” ― Jacqueline Carey, Kushiel’s Dart
  • “Reach high, for stars lie hidden in you. Dream deep, for every dream precedes the goal.” ― Rabindranath Tagore
  • “Life, with its rules, its obligations, and its freedoms, is like a sonnet: You’re given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself.” ― Madeleine L'Engle, A Wrinkle in Time

[There are more quotes under the tab!]

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Watercolors

Word Count: 1.1k

Pairing: Kyungsoo/Reader 

Genre: Angst

“I dream my painting and I paint my dream.” 

The wooden panels creak softly as you step inside the silent studio. The white walls give the room a heavenly glow, but it’s nothing compared to the radiance of the scattered canvases. Along every side of the room, line various paintings. Some unfinished, and some only with a single stroke of medium. You love every single one of them. 

The floors are speckled with year-old stains from oil paints, charcoal, and cold coffee. You wonder how the walls still lay untouched. 

A lone easel sits in the center of the room, its legs buried by crumbled paper, paint tubes, and broken brushes. You walk over and sit on the wooden stool next to the stand. Your eyes are drawn to his latest work. You admire the vibrant colors and wonder how he does it. It’s just a base layer of blues and whites, but a strange warmth envelopes your heart. 

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Lost Boy | TEN

Genre: peter pan!au | a wave of angst  | drops of fluffiness at the end

The star: Ten / Reader

Word count: 7 257 holy crappp

A/N: I wrote this one based on a song I heard. Special thanks to Lauren, for correcting my one hundred and one faults. If there’s any grammatical mistake left, please forgive me. 

Synopsis : “You hurt me, Y/N.” He said, making the saddest face he could. “As you don’t remember, I’ll introduce myself again. Like twelve years ago.” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment and suddenly jumped on top of the bed, surprising you. “My name is Ten! I am the tenth lost boy!”

Originally posted by honeyxxxmoon

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Onsra | kihyunau!

(v.) to love for the last time - a bittersweet feeling of knowing that a love wont last

requested by @gelattuan

summary: kihyun is an international spy investigating an art robbery, and is paired up with [y/n], who was a double-agent.

ship: kihyun x [y/n]

genre: angst, romance, idk ;u;

word count: 5,611

a/n: hi there! i hope you guys like this. i don’t know but it might be all over the place ;; im so sorry. but anyways, i was listening to urban zapaka’s i don’t love you while writing the latter. you can listen to it while reading this tho! anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this and i apologize for any misspelled words and wrong grammar ;;

masterlist

Originally posted by monstaxscenariosx

“I need the you to work on this case.”

The atmosphere was utterly suffocating, and pressure was already building up. Glancing down at the folder handed to you, you scan the case file once more and let out a deep sigh. It was the tenth art theft for this year and you’ve gotten sick of hearing such cases over and over again.

“Why?” 

A simple question left your mouth. You look up to meet the gaze of the chief of the secret intelligence service that you’re currently working in. Yes, you are an agent, a double agent of some sort. Working under two different S.I.S was a piece of cake for you. Just work under the enemy, earn their trust and destroy them slowly with the information you get without earning any suspicion from your colleagues. 

“You’re one of the best agents that we have, [y/n], and we badly need your help on this one.” The Chief was already sounding like he’s desperate to have you in that case and this isn’t the first time he sounded like that. 

“Alright, I’ll do it but who’s in my team?” You query without any hesitation. Never in a million years would the Chief let you work alone. There was always an outstanding agent who’d get paired up with you.  

“Yoo Kihyun. He’s an international spy who signed contracts with us last year and he’s got outstanding skills to find the mastermind of the stolen Poppy Flower by Van Gogh. Mr. Yoo has already started this case long before the Poppy Flowers were even stolen.” The Chief declares while passing you a folder filled with Kihyun’s basic information.

“Hm.. Yoo Kihyun, 23 years old, Male..” you continue to scan the papers right in front of you and wonder why you’re being paired up with him.

“Hey, pops,” you look up from the paper that you’re currently reading and ask, tapping your lower lip with your finger, “out of all the best agents in this building, why did you choose me?”

“Simple. I know you have tons of ways to get this case done. You’re not like the other agents whom I trust with other dangerous cases and I think that you’d have some chemistry with each other. I can sense something great about you to be honest and–”

The doors burst open, revealing a handsome, young lad whom you didn’t expect to arrive. His soft black locks bounced every time he makes a step, his cheekbones ever prominent as he flashes a toothy grin at the two of you, and his eyes turning into crescent shape. If you didn’t know a single thing about him, you would practically be fooled by his appearance, thinking that he’s just some handsome man with a profession suited for his face.

“Great timing, Mr. Yoo.” The Chief beamed and takes the hand of Kihyun, shaking it before passing him the case file that he’s given you when you first came in.

“Ms. [l/n], I want you to meet Mr. Yoo. Mr. Yoo, you’ll be working with one of our top agents and I hope that the two of you get along. Now that the two of you are here, let me proceed in breaking down our objectives for this case,” Pressing a button on the remote that he’s been holding for a while, the light from the projector illuminated the presentation prepared by the Chief himself.

“First, with all the information gathered by Mr. Yoo,” The Chief passes the two of you another folder and proceeds with his presentation, “Ms. [l/n] will come in in the picture. You’ll be working in the museum with Mr. Yoo as his personal assistant.”

“Next, in order to get a head start on finding the one who stole the painting, you need to squeeze some information out of the Director running the museum itself.” Upon hearing the objectives of the case, you couldn’t help but let out another sigh.

It’s been awhile since you’ve worked on a case. You couldn’t help but feel ecstatic about it but thousands of problems came crossing in your mind. Both of the secret intelligence services that you’re working under for have requested you to do this, and you couldn’t help but think on how you should inform the main S.I.S, that you’re loyal to, without getting any suspicion from Kihyun.

Slowly losing yourself in your own train of thoughts, you didn’t notice Kihyun calling out your name, trying to get your attention. “Earth to you! Hey, are you even listening?”

Snapping out from your thoughts, you look at Kihyun and gave him a nod. “Y-yeah.” 

“I hope so. How about let’s get going, aight? And here, I think you should change into this.” Kihyun hands you a paper bag filled with normal people clothes.  Peeking through the gap, you couldn’t help but compliment his taste in fashion.

“Alright.”


“Oh, Kihyun, you’re here! Omo, and who might this be?” A man in his late 50s came to welcome the two of you with a big smile on his face. Looking at you from head to toe, you gave him a polite bow before Kihyun introduces you to him. “ [y/n], I want you to meet, Mr. Park, he’s the Director of this museum. Mr. Park, this is my personal assistant, [y/n]. She’ll be with me starting today.”

“You sure do have a good eye in choosing an assistant, Kihyun.” Winking at him, Mr. Park couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh before patting him on the shoulder and flashing you a fatherly smile.

“I welcome you with wide arms, [y/n]. I hope you enjoy working with our Kihyunnie.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Park.” you respond and gave him one last bow before he left to handle some paper works for the artworks that were coming in in a few days. As soon as the Director left, Kihyun turns to face you and gives you a clipboard filled with classified information.

“Here, if we ever get separated, we’ll still be able to communicate and track each other down with this.” Kihyun takes a hold of your wrist and wraps a watch around it, smiling at you in the process. He was utterly close and you could feel your heart skip a bit but you decided to push away any possible romantic feelings that could start to develop.

“Oh, and as a matter of fact, I can also send pictures and files through this watch and vice-versa. Quite handy, right?” Kihyun’s eyes twinkled while talking about the watch itself, as if it was just a toy to him.

“Yeah, it is.” you said, gazing at the rich clay brown leather strap and at the glossy case before catching Kihyun’s gaze. “So, Mr. Yoo, do you want to continue staring at me or should we get going and get this case done?” you playfully teased to which resulted to Kihyun bursting out into fits of laughter.

“Let’s get going.” Before you could even respond, Kihyun already has his back at you as he waltz towards the room where the theft happened. The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the whole museum. There was nothing but silence to be heard. No one really talked as they tried to enjoy and focus themselves on the meaning behind every single art that is being displayed.

Scanning the whole room with your eyes, you noticed a couple of cctv on every corner. The information that Kihyun has gathered were reliable and relevant. Taking a couple of information in your mind, you glance up to see Kihyun looking at you. 

“Have you checked the cctvs?” Kihyun didn’t think twice but to respond right away with a nod. “I’ve checked each and every cctv there is in this room,” He points at every cctv in the room and continues, “However each camera were somewhat hacked during the of the robbery. In addition to this, they did not only hack the cctvs in this room, but also in the whole building.”

“Were they able to hack the cctv from the outside of the museum?” You question once more but you didn’t stay at the same position. You walk up to the cctv and scrutinize ever side of it for any possible lead. 

“They were. Mr. Park has actually hired a hacker to check if there was any possible chance in retrieving any possible footage but… they weren’t able to find any.”

“Gotcha.” you mutter under your breath as you turned around and gestured Kihyun to come closer. Kihyun, confused of what’s up, went closer to you and asked, “What is it?” 

“Lift me up.” you order without any hesitation. “What? Why?” Being ordered by someone out of the blue baffled Kihyun. “Just give me a lift, will you?” Without complaining, Kihyun positions himself and effortlessly lifted you up. In the midst of removing something from the cctv, Kihyun couldn’t help but feel flushed when he realized that you were wearing a skirt.

Get a hold of yourself Yoo Kihyun! Kihyun mentally scolds himself and looks up to see if you’re already done. “I got it!” you beamed and carefully get off of Kihyun. Kihyun’s eyebrows were furrowed, curiosity got him and he’s been itching to ask you what you just found. 

“Did you ever think of checking the cctvs for any… oh I don’t know… any device of such sort?” You playfully ask whilst showing him the small device in between your fingers.

“Wait, is that..” 

“It is.” You quickly answer his question. “They seem to have forgotten to remove such device that can be easily tracked or maybe hacked, if possible.” Kihyun was definitely impressed by your skills. A smile found its way to his lips, making you look at him weirdly.

“Why are you smiling like that?” You ask whilst studying his features up close. Smooth, flawless skin, red plump lips, sharp nose and a pair of beautiful that could make you lose yourself to. “You’re pretty good.” Chuckling at his sudden compliment, you nod your head and mutter a, “Let’s get this device checked.”

The two of you didn’t waste any time and proceeded to his office where the two of you spent most of your time in.


Days turned to weeks and neither one of you was able to get a lead to this case. Staying in his office didn’t really help but you weren’t in the place to complain about it. Reviewing the gathered information once more, a thought popped out of the blue. 

You remembered that Kihyun started to work in this museum long before the Poppy Flower was even stolen. “Hey, Kihyun.” catching his attention in just seconds, Kihyun looks up to meet your gaze. Dark circles were already forming under his eyes. Both of you spent sleepless nights together and throughout those nights, the two of you were able to get to know about each other.

“Chief told me that you were already working here before the Poppy Flower was even stolen.” 

“Yeah, what about it?” Kihyun then returns his gaze back to the pile of paper right in front of him, scribbling notes on his pad while tapping his foot. “Didn’t you notice any suspicious looking person?”

“None.” Kihyun timidly replies without meeting your gaze. Scratching the back of your head, you knew that neither of you would make some progress in that state. Hoisting yourself up from your seat, you walk over to Kihyun’s side and peeked on what he’s writing. 

“You should take a break, Ki.” 

Startled by your voice, Kihyun looks up to you in confusion. “Eh? I can’t take a break, [y/n], and you know that. We haven’t made any progress and the chief just gave us a deadline for this case.” 

“Well, we wouldn’t be able to make any progress if we’re this stressed. You should take a nap or something, dark circles are not your thing.” you mutter as you turned your back at him, walking towards to you handbag to get something. Pulling out some eye mask, you offer it to Kihyun and said once more, “Take a nap, will you? I’ll go get some drinks for the two of us and maybe something to eat, alright?”

Before Kihyun could even stop you from leaving, you were already out of the room with your wallet tucked under your arm. Kihyun couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were. Following what you just told him, he puts on the eye mask under his eyes and proceeds in catching some Zs.

It’s been awhile since you’ve last came out of that room. The museum was still buzzing with tourists and you couldn’t help but envy their lifestyle. Sighing to yourself, you walk towards the small cafeteria in that museum. Ordering two bento boxes and some cold beverages for the two of you, you thanked the old lady and waltz your way back to Kihyun’s office with the bento boxes and beverages in your hands.

Your mind was definitely clouded with the device you’ve discovered days ago. Where did you go wrong with the hacking? Did you miss some codes? You just couldn’t seem to put a finger on it, you decided to just dismiss the thought. 

Upon entering the room, you were welcomed by a couple of soft snores from your partner. The sight of Kihyun fast asleep with his head resting in his arms made you soften up. Placing the paper bag on the table, you went back in front of your laptop and studied the code once more.

Staring at the monitor for quite some time now, you finally found the mistake in your own codes. The sound of keys being pressed on echoed throughout the whole room. Your fingers skillfully pressed on the keys, your eyes was glued on monitor with such concentration that you didn’t even realize you’ve awoken Kihyun from his short nap. Pressing enter, your monitor finally displays the information that you’ve been wanting to see.

“Finally!” you exclaim with such happiness that you’ve startled yourself when your eyes landed on Kihyun, who was staring at you with such sleepy eyes. “What’s up?” He asks and rubs his eyes while looking at the paper bag that you’ve placed on top of the table.

“I’ve finally decoded the device and I think we’re gonna get ourselves some juicy information.” 

You continue to work on your laptop until it decided to warn you that it might take ten to twenty minutes for it to finally analyze every single data it gets. The room was utterly quiet for the two of you. Nobody dared to speak until the sound of your stomach grumbling filled the whole room, making Kihyun burst out laughing.

“C’mon, let’s take a break for awhile and eat these bento boxes.” Kihyun hands you the bento box that you’ve bought while pulling his swivel chair near to you. His bento box in his hands, he sits down and opens it in just a snap. You, on the other hand, are already ripping your chopsticks off the paper casing.

“Thanks for the meal.” Kihyun mutters before digging in. Throughout the whole meal, the two of you had some conversations here and there. “Were you able to get some sleep?” You ask while plopping in a piece of meat in your mouth.

“I was able to get some until you came typing really loud.” Kihyun joked, making you nudge him on the elbow with a smile. “Oh, does our prince need more of his beauty sleep?” 

“Whatever, [y/n].” 

It took the two of you almost 15 minutes to finish your meal and by the time the two of you guys were finished, you immediately checked your laptop and it showed the information that you’ve been trying to retrieve.

“Kihyun, we finally have a lead!”

“Really?! Nice one!” Kihyun beamed and pumped his fists in the air. Having the information printed out, the two of you decided to scavenge more information and with just one fatal information, the two of you were able to find the main culprit.

The name was written all over the screen and printed information. Just reading the name all over and over, you couldn’t help but feel your heart race in fear. It was no other than the persons who made you take up this path. Gulping down your saliva, you avoided eye contact with Kihyun.

“Wait, Shin Hoseok and Son Hyunwoo? Are you freaking serious?” 

Kihyun also couldn’t believe what he was reading. They were probably in the last place for suspicion for Kihyun. Glancing towards your direction, he immediately noticed how tensed up you were. The atmosphere was quite heavy and Kihyun didn’t like it. Placing the printed information down, he quietly walk towards his laptop and stare at his monitor blankly.

“Now that we know who stole the painting, we better start tracking them and plan out how we’re going to retrieve the stolen painting.”


Tugging the hem of the skin-tight longsleeve shirt that you were wearing, you look up at the building right in front of you. The sound of dogs barking from a distance sent chills running down your spine. Throughout the previous weeks of planning out the perfect plan, you couldn’t help but feel a gush of guilt of something you were about to do.

It was undeniable that you and Kihyun had gotten to that flirting stage, a couple of naughty actions here and there during those sleepless nights. You’d be lying to yourself if you’d say that you don’t have any feelings for Yoo Kihyun.

But what can you do? Your life, nor did Kihyun’s life, allowed the two of you to enter such relationship. The two of you were agents and once you bring someone in to your life, they were bound to meet tragic endings. Feeling a tug on your hand, you look up and saw Kihyun’s angelic smile that could make your knees weak.

“Hey, angel, are you okay?” He asked, concern was all over his tone and you couldn’t help but feel those butterflies dancing around your tummy. “I-I’m fine. Let’s go?” You stammered and flashed the most convincing smile, but you knew Kihyun too well that he wasn’t going to buy it.

Despite the fact that the two of you only have known each other for a couple of weeks, you were able to spill everything to him as if the two of you have been best of friends over a decade. Agent or not, the two of you acted like yourselves around each other and neither of you minded. 

Those weeks of working together was the best moments in your life. It has been a long time that you’ve felt your heart flutter from the little things that you’ve done with Kihyun. However, you were dreading this day would come. 

“The security has been deactivated by Minhyuk and what’s left for us to do is that we need to get to the room where they kept the painting.” Kihyun remarked and showed you the plan once more. “I need you to get there safely, [y/n]. Promise me that you’ll get there safely…. okay?”

Nodding your head, you linked your pinky with his and flashed him a smile. You were about to leave and proceed with your plan, you were pulled back into a tight hug. Looking up, you saw Kihyun’s smile and you couldn’t help but heat up by the sudden skinship. Your pale cheeks were flushed when Kihyun softly pressed his lips on your forehead. “See you there.” 

Before you knew it, Kihyun was off to his own plan. Without wasting any more time you proceeded with your plan and successfully avoided all the guards inside the building.

With you back on the wall, you listened to the conversation between two guards. Looking around your surroundings, you noticed the cctv camera facing at the entrance. If the person behind the camera sees you, your cover would be blown and you’d utterly fail.

You pulled your wrist up to your lips and whispered something loud enough for Kihyun, “There’s a cctv camera facing the entrance. I need you to–” 

(Don’t worry, I’ve knocked the person behind all the cctv cameras down. Now that I’m here, there are actually four guards armed with guns.)

Glancing towards the glossy wall, you saw the reflection of the guards. All of them were facing their backs at you, giving you much advantage. Pulling out some poisoned darts out from your pocket, you carefully placed them inside the blowpipe. Aiming at the first victim, you blew as hard as you can and hurriedly placed the next poison dart inside before aiming it to the next target before the others could react. 

Successfully knocking down two guards with the poison dart. you grabbed your pistol, with a silencer attached to it, from your belt and immediately fired at the guard you turned around to face you. Seeing his fellow men down, the last guard pulled his gun out and fired at you. You were able to miss the first bullet but then you were distracted by the other cctv camera with a red light, making the second bullet hit you on the right shoulder. 

Wincing in pain, you looked at the guard who had a smug look on his face. Pointing your gun at him you didn’t think twice and fired, aiming the gun on his head. Just before you know it, the guard was sprawled on the floor, blood spurting out from his head. 

You held onto your bleeding shoulder and went straight to the place where the painting was hidden. Kihyun was right behind the screen when he saw you getting hit on the shoulder. His heart almost stopped when he saw you wincing in pain, blood dripping down your arm. Cursing under his breath, he dashed out of the room and hurriedly dashed towards the room.

The whole way to the room was filled with the sound of you grunting. You knew you needed to stop the bleeding before you loose a lot of blood. A couple of turns here and there, you finally spotted the room and stopped right in front of the door, hesitating whether you should enter or not. 

Pressing your ear on the door, there was nothing but silence. You lifted your watch and checked the Minhyuk’s signal. Sending you a big go signal, you grabbed your gun and twisted the knob open, pushing it open, only to be greeted by darkness.

Despite your right arm going numb, you were still able to grab the small flashlight from your pocket and turned it on. A couple of flashing on different places, you finally found the painting and waltz your way towards it, only to be stopped by someone. 

“Well, well, look who we have here.” You stiffened when you finally identified the owner of the voice. Slowly turning around with your gun ready, you pointed it at the person right behind you. “Isn’t it our little tiger, [y/n]?” Just hearing your nickname made you remember all the bad memories you’ve had with them. “What do you want?” you spat, trying to put on a brave front but deep inside you were already whimpering in fear. 

“What do we want? Hm, should we be the ones asking you that? You’re trespassing and you know what’s going to happen to those who decides to trespass on our territory huh, litter tiger?”


Kihyun was completely drained when he arrived at the room. His gut feeling has been telling him that something bad was going to happen. Shaking that feeling off, he wraps his fingers around the silver knob, twisting it open, only to be greeted by you, seated on a chair with tons of tapes wrapped around your body. 

It was obvious that you’ve lost a lot of blood based on your pale lips. Your hair was a mess and there was a bruise slowly forming on your cheekbone. Scrambling to his feet, Kihyun was about to get a hold of you when you stopped him.

“Don’t… please don’t come near me Kihyun.”

Kihyun has finally caught on to what was happening. “[y/n]…” His eyes were now looking at you with worry. He never saw this coming and he was never going to forgive himself if you’d be gone. You remembered what Hoseok and Hyunwoo told you a little while ago.

We’ll give you fifteen minutes to say everything that you want to that little friend of yours, little tiger. Once the time is up, the two of you will be dead.” 

Kihyun… I know that this is not the time for things like this..” you paused, only to receive a ‘huh?’ from Kihyun. “But I just wanted to tell you that you’ve literally made my heart flutter… and I’ve never believed to be able to feel these feelings again in my entire life of being an agent..” you continued but stopped once you felt that it was wrong.

It was wrong for you to feel that way. Catching feelings for someone was a taboo in the field and here you are, doing the exact opposite of what not to do. 

“[y/n], don’t do this.” Kihyun pleaded as he walked towards you. “Didn’t I just tell you to not come near me?” You asked, searching his eyes when he placed his hands on your cheeks, wiping the tears falling down in your cheeks.

“How can I not reach out to you when you’re in this state? [y/n], don’t do this… Please, l-let me help you.” He begged as you shook your head, unable to hold back your tears. “Kihyun, just leave me here. Take the painting and just leave… “ You whispered loud enough for the two of you to hear. 

“I can’t leave you here. [y/n], I love you, okay? I know this is a taboo but I need to get you out of here with me. I don’t want to lose you. You know what, forget about that stupid painting.” His voice was shaky as he tried his best to cut the tape.

Glancing at the shadows, you saw Hoseok showing you his watch, telling you that your time is almost up. “Kihyun, please, just listen to me.” No matter how much you pleaded him to look at you and listen, he didn’t budge as he continued to cut through the tape with the knife he had in his pockets.

“Just leave me, okay? If you don’t leave, we’ll both die! Please, just save yourself–”

“No, there no fucking way that I’m going to leave you okay?! You’re my partner and an agent never leaves their partner behind.” Kihyun shouted through the pressure and stress that was building up.

Remembering that your colleague from your main s.i.s was coming, you already knew what to do. Once Kihyun was able to finally cut the tape, he hurriedly removes all the tape on your body. “C-c’mon, [y/n], w-we still have time to leave.” You shook your head and held his hand. “No, we don’t…” Your hands slowly cups his cheeks, a smile slowly forming in your lips. “I love you, Kihyun and I’m sorry… and there’s something that I haven’t told you… I’m a double agent.” your voice trailed off at the end, making Kihyun just gaze at you with sad eyes.

Pressing your lips onto his, you couldn’t help but cherish this moment. In just seconds, you slowly pulled away and the softness of his lips lingered on yours. You wiped away the tears brimming down his cheeks and looked back to see Jooheon’s sad smile. Jooheon has been in the shadows until now, with the painting in his hand. Jooheon wasn’t alone as Changkyun was also with him. They were your trusted team and you couldn’t help but feel sorry all of a sudden.

“Jooheon, you know what to do.” Before Kihyun could even react, you already pushed him towards the two, Changkyun catching him on time before dashing out of the room with the painting in their hold. Kihyun struggled, trying to free himself from Changkyun’s hold but it was no use, Changkyun was stronger. He bawled his eyes out, screaming your name with so much despair.

“[y/n] don’t do this!! [y/n]!!” Kihyun continued to scream until his voice turned into a muffle. You already knew that that love wasn’t going to last. It was painful but this was your fate. You had to give up everything just to keep those around you safe.

“Time’s up.” Hoseok said as he comes out from the shadows with Hyunwoo readying the gun in his hands. “You didn’t change after all, little tiger. Always ever ready to sacrifice yourself for the sake of those whom you love.” he added as he stopped right in front of you.

“It’s such a shame that you have to leave this world at a young age.” Hoseok twirled his finger around the strands of hair covering your face. You didn’t care anymore. This has been your fate ever since then. You look up and stare right into Hoseok’s eyes.

“Why don’t you just kill me now?” 

Surprised by your words, Hoseok lets out a fruity laugh before tucking his finger under your chin with a smirk. “Well, aren’t you excited to die? Let’s have a bit of fun since–” 

“Bullshit! Just kill me already!” you screamed as you grabbed Hoseok by the collar. Regardless of the past you had with Hoseok and Hyunwoo, there was still a little bit of attachment present in Hoseok and Hyunwoo’s heart. Looking at the little sister they once cherished, Hoseok could feel a tug in his heart. 

Hoseok lets out a shaky sigh and looks at Hyunwoo, who just gave him a nod. Wrapping his fingers around your hands, Hoseok carefully removes your hands and looked dead straight into your eyes. “Do you really want to die?”

“Isn’t this what I’m fated to?! Once caught, I must die.”

Hoseok moves aside and let’s Hyunwoo take over. “Alright, if that’s what you want then, let it be.” Pulling the chamber and pointing the gun in your forehead, you stared at Hyunwoo and smiled. “Even though we had some misunderstanding between the three of us, I’m glad that I met the two of you–”

Before you could even finish, the sound of Kihyun’s voice echoed throughout the whole room. It was from your watch and you didn’t even bother to respond to it.

(Fuck it [y/n]! Get out of there, please. We’ve called back up. Please don’t do anything to get yourself killed–)

You were startled when Hoseok aggressively grabbed your wrist and responded to Kihyun, “Well, too late. She just asked for it.” You could feel your heart sink when you heard Kihyun scream from the other side, telling Jooheon and Changkyun to hurry up and get the back up.

Kihyun, I really am sorry.” You muttered loud and clear against your watch and grabbed Hyunwoo’s hand, forcing him to press on the trigger, totally catching the two off-guard.

BANG

The sound of a gun being fired echoed throughout the whole room, everyone went silent for a moment, unable to process what just happened. Hoseok stared blankly at Hyunwoo before going insane. 

Grabbing you on the shoulder, Hoseok shook your almost lifeless body and wailed, “Why did you do that?! We were going to let you off–”

“This is not the time to do that, Hoseok. Let’s get her out of here and get her treated before it’s too late.” Hoseok was too shocked to move. Hyunwoo swiftly carried you bridal style and carried you out of the building, only to see Kihyun, Jooheon, Changkyun and all of the back ups that they’ve called.

Spotting the ambulance, Hyunwoo didn’t think twice and ran towards the EMTs. “Please, help her. Don’t let her die… please.” Hyunwoo begged, tears were already threatening to fall. Without further ado, the EMTs took a hold of you and did what they could do.

Kihyun, who finally got his sense back, turned around and saw you lying on the stretcher. “We need to bring her to the hospital now. She’s already lost a lot of blood and if she doesn’t get to the hospital, she’d die.”

“Then what are you waiting for?! Hurry up and get her in the vehicle!” Hyunwoo screamed. Everyone scrambled to their feet and carefully brought you inside the ambulance. Kihyun didn’t think twice but to enter the ambulance despite being stopped by the other agents. Just letting Kihyun be, the EMTs didn’t think twice and pressed on the gas.

“[y/n]….” he muttered as he noticed you opened your eyes and looked at him. “Why… are you… here?” you whispered but was then hushed by Kihyun. “Don’t do speak, w-we’re almost there… D-don’t close your eyes on me now, [y/n].”

Everything seemed to happen so fast. You closed your eyes without even hearing out Kihyun. When you’ve finally arrived at the hospital, you were immediately treated by the doctors. Kihyun sat at the waiting area with worry completely plastered all over his face.

Glancing down on his watch, he looked at the picture of the two of you took in his office. The two of you were smiling happily at the camera, Kihyun had his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you were leaning your head head on his neck. The sound of doors opening snapped Kihyun out from his train of thoughts. Three doctors stood right in front of him and they’ve hanged their head low as they one in the middle spoke up.

Mr. Yoo…. we’re so sorry but… we couldn’t save her.”

July 14

Pairing: poly!hamilsquad

Premise: modern au - Lafayette is feeling homesick on Bastille Day, and it’s up to John, Alexander, and Hercules to cheer him up.

Word Count: 1496

a/n: fluffy fluff… enjoy <3 (p.s. i’m sorry it’s up later than i hoped… but you can expect marliza pt. 1 tomorrow night!)


“Guys can you please shut up?” John moaned as Hercules and Alexander animatedly discussed the latter’s newest legal case. “The movie’s starting!”

Indeed, the artsy opening credits had stopped and given way to the first scene of Amélie. Alexander shut up, pouting, and Hercules quickly kissed him and promised that they would finish talking later.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I want to learn how to draw but I have no idea from where to start. Do you have any advice for me? I'm desperate seeing all of you talented people drawing amazingly well but I can't even draw a line T_T I love yr blog <33

alright i suck at advice and stuff but i legitly just got on desktop so i could answer this ;)

So you might not know this but ive been drawing for almost three weeks, i mean as a hobby, i have to draw on art class but nothing so big or meaningful so yeah.

So i have no idea where to start, i’d say just do what feels right so you can find your own style but you also gotta know how things work, something i’ve found very very important is:

  • References i swear theres nothing more important than this.  (i’ll add links at the end). If youre gonna start you need lots of references, like a lot, just stare at things arounf you, figure how they work, how they look. Stare at pics of your favourite idol (i stared at pics of Namjoon for like 10 mins before i drew him for the first time, hes too beautiful #blessed)
  • Finding inspiration: what do you wanna draw? do you wanna draw humans? doggos? inanimated objects? potatoes? you choose, you can do it
  • Dont mind of it doesnt look good. there’s always place for improving, if you check out my fanfics from three years ago and compare them to now theyre shit. Shitty english, shitty writing, 1ST PERSON LIKE WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME, im using writing as an example bc its what ive been doing the longest, (im as Jahssel on AO3 shamelessSelfPromo) So yeah dont mind much if you cant draw a line, keep on trying! you’ll get better 
  • Don’t be afraid of trying new things. You wanna start drawing? do it! You are free to do as you please, who knows you might be the next Van Gogh (no one liked his art back then like EXCUSE YOU)
  • Don’t be afraid of asking for help!!! I’ve literally being going around asking for advice bc im not good at it (yes im scarred for life thanks mom) If you cant draw something if you dont seem to get it right just ask someone you consider good at it for help, most ppl on tumblr are really nice (esp in the ask blog community) and they’ll help you with no hesitation
  • Dont Give Up: even when you think things are just not going right dong give up, never give up, Even if youre seeing no improvement dont give up on it. You’ll get better at it you just have to remeber Practice Makes Perfect you just gotta keep on trying and trying until you get it right. When i was younger i couldnt swim for shit, i couldnt even get in the water, but i didnt give up on it and i’m now Haruka Nanase (i love swimming so fucking much) so o dont give up  Heroes never die!

Here are the references i use most of the time (ive got them saved pls

Theres this thing called same face sindrome in which al your charactesrs look the same? here’s how to avoid it (all links are on tumblr dont worry)(also long thingies bc i hate when im on app and i have to press the goddamn x like my fat fingers cant do that)

Ref 1      Ref 2      Head ref  More heads

These also help with face drawing

Hair! Drawing hair is hell, i hate it, these two help but you might as well pull a me and draw random lines and hope it looks good lmao

Ref 1     Ref 2    Bonus!

Eyes are also hard, you dont have to make it realistic if youre just doodling but gotta know how shit works

Ref 1   Ref 2

Expressions and mouth also a hard one (everything is hard when drawing tbh)

Ref 1    Ref 2    Ref 3    Ref 4

Noses! everyones favourite, fun to pick at them fun to draw them (lmao im sleep depraved pls excuse me)

Ref 1

Everyone’s fucking favourite HANDS!! THIS SHIT IS THE WORSE BUT IVE FOUND A WAY TO DRAW THEM (gonna post it later kay)

Ref 1    Ref 2    Ref 3   Ref 4    Ref 5 

General anatomy, yeah gotta give them bodies, because aparently humans have bodies???? wth 

Full body   Legs   Arms   Body types 1    Body Types 2    Tips  Poses

Feet! I still havent learn how to do this but gonna link you either way

Ref 1   Ref 2    Ref 3

Extra!!!

Boobs 1    Boobs 2   Fabric folds    Dicks    :3    Profiles    Dicks 2   Kissing

Check the pages i use the most for more ref 

Anatomy–ref       ThunderCluck (Tutor thursday)

Yup thats it i think, im gonna post the way i draw shitty hands later  

Hope this helped (wow this was long asf)

The Matchmaker (1/??)

Credit to the owners for all the pictures!

Title : The Matchmaker

Pairing : Jaebum x Reader x Jinyoung

Genre : Fluff, Romance, Angst

Author : Me

Summary : You love Jaebum, with all your heart. There is no way he would love you back though, considering you’re too scared to even say hello to him. One day, your friend tells you about the Matchmaker, a man who can help you get the love of your life and you decide you need this person in your life. This is the only way to make Jaebum and you a whole.

/ Teaser /

PART I

Matchmaker [mach-mey-ker] noun : A person who arranges marriages or initiates romantic relationships between others.

Easy. It was how life was, easy. Jinyoung was a man of principle, friendly enough to have friends, and solitary when it was needed. He was a simple mind in a complex body, with gusto and attitude but he hated people pointing out his charms, like a long list of groceries lost in a back pocket.

In a way, he was out of this world, nowhere as close as to be called a “youngster”, with his character. Jinyoung was a smart man, with ideas and originality and this, he had understood how to use it to his own profit.

People were as easy to read as the numerous books he owned. Predictable, dull, boring were the main adjectives to qualify humans and in a way, it was making this too easy for him.

Keep reading

9

To the person who requested this, I hope you don’t mind that I added a few characters. If you do mind, you can send me a message and yell at me if it makes you feel better.

Nine-

“YES!” you screamed as the Doctor narrowly escaped the fire of the Santaran and because you hit the back of it’s neck and knocked it out. You’d never felt so alive in your entire life. The Doctor came back around the corner he went to hide behind. “Oi, you, you’d better begin to look after yourself.” you joked. 

“Why would I do that when I’ve got you?” he smiled, looking around the corner.

“What if I’m not around forever?”  

“Plan on leaving, do you?” 

“Don’t get too excited. Duck.” you said casually. 

“Sorry?” 

“Duck.” you repeated as you raised your sledge hammer, mirroring the Santaran as he raised his gun. You spun around, whirling your hammer until you were behind the alien, bringing the same fate upon this one as the last, striking the back of his neck. 

“Oh, I love you.” The Doctor smiled as he stood and grabbed your face in his hands and pressed his lips against you yours in a hot, sloppy kiss. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” he furrowed his eyebrows, still holding you gently. You looked into his eyes and then kissed him like he had you. 

“I love you too.” 

Ten-

“Why would you do that?!” he yelled, slamming the door of the TARDIS. 

“I saved those children!” you defended yourself loudly. 

“You could’ve been killed!” 

“Even if I had, those people still would’ve live. Isn’t that what it’s all about, Doctor?” you looked him in the eyes and he softened immensely but he was still angry. 

“You could’ve died.” he sighed. “I almost lost you.”  

“That doesn’t matter.” you shook your head, knowing where the conversation was headed. 

“Shall I take you home, then?” he asked. Immediately you started crying. You didn’t know it was even possible to cry that quickly. 

“What?” you choked. 

“You want me to take you home?” 

“No.” you shook your head, tear falling down your face. You saw how lonely he was. You knew what it meant to be alone, how it felt. You could never wish that for anyone, especially not your Doctor. “You want me to leave?” 

“No.” he shook his head. You’d never heard him be so sincere. “But they all leave. And I suppose, in the end, they break my hearts.” he said, looking down at his dirty red converse. You rushed across the control room, throwing your arms around him. 

“I’ll never leave you, Doctor.” you whispered. You felt his hearts beating fast and he took a deep breath, hugging you back. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

Eleven-

“Oh,” he gasped. “I survived, brilliant! I love when I do that.” he smiled, sliding down to the floor. 

“Yea, me too.” you sighed sarcastically, finally able to breathe. The Doctor had gone out to inspect the area around you, saying he hadn’t been on the planet in a very long time and wasn’t sure it was safe for you to go out yet. He really only meant to be a minute but ended up taking several hours and you wanted to go looking for him but you were the only companion he’d ever had to follow the ‘Don’t Wander Off’ rule and stayed put in the TARDIS like he asked. 

“I am very sorry I was so long. Are you alright?” he asked, looking down at you as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“You worried me to death, but other than that, I’m just grand.” 

“You were worried about me?” he smirked. 

“You’re an idiot who gets into all sorts of trouble on a daily basis, of course I worry about you.” you laughed, smacking his stomach lightly. You both laughed for a moment before you both went silent, thanking your stars the other was there. He began to realize how close he was to dying, to being without you.  

“Do you know I love you?” he asked. You knew he did, he knew you loved him back but neither of you had ever said it out loud. It was always in the air, like a balloon that just kept filling itself up. And you both watched happily as it popped. 

“I do. I love you too, Doctor.” you smiled, taking his hand in yours. 

Twelve-

“Have you lost your fucking mind, you?” you screamed. “Let me go! They’re dying!” you kicked around as the Doctor dragged you back into the TARDIS. “LET ME GO!”  

“Alright.” he said simply and released you. You headed straight for the door but he’d locked you in. You beat and beat on the door but nothing happened so you gave up and slid down to the floor, crying. After he set the TARDIS on cruise control and you were absently floating through space, he came to sit beside you. 

“They’re dead because of me.” you sniffled. 

“No, they’re dead because of me. If anyone is to take the blame here, it’s me. You know how selfish I get, don’t you. Don’t claim what mine as yours.” he sounded serious but he wanted you to laugh or smile but you just stared up at him. 

“Doctor, why’d you do that?” 

“There was nothing you could have done.” 

“Then you should have left me there.” you snapped before you rested your head on his arm. 

“Can’t do that, you know I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“I love you.” he whispered. He almost hoped you hadn’t heard it but he knew that you did. “I-I can’t loose you, Y/N, I love you.” 

Captain Jack Harkness-

“Jack!” you squealed, putting your hands on his as he lifted you off the ground. “Quit!” 

“Not a chance.” he smirked. you brought your legs up to kick them around and try to get free, giggling the whole time. You wiggled around before you grabbed onto his desk and leaned forward to pull yourself away from him. 

“Jack, let go!”

“Nope.” he kissed your shoulder. Your waist was held tight to his and he leaned over. “I can’t tell you what I’m thinking right now.” he whispered in your ear as he placed your feet back on the ground. 

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking, Captain.” you grinned and whispered something in his ear that was only fit for him to hear. 

“I love you.” he growled.

Vincent Van Gogh-

“It’s color!” Vincent shouted. “Color that holds the key! I can hear the colors, listen to them.” he moved across his living room, crouching in front of you, holding onto the arms of your chair. “Every time I step outside, I feel nature is shouting at me, “Come on! Come and get me, come on! Come on, capture my mystery!” he shouted, shaking your chair. 

You smiled, looking into his wild eyes. You loved when he got so passionate about things, showed he was still alive, he was capable of feeling good. You were silent for a long time, just looking up into his eyes, admiring the flame, until he started to loose his smile because you hadn’t said anything. HE was so insecure and he often thought you believed he was crazy and only hung around because you felt sorry for him until you said something only one full of love could say. 

“You have the most beautiful mind, Vincent.” you sipped your tea, only looking away from him for a second. “I only wish I could see the world around me the way you do. I couldn’t dream of living in a world so magnificent.” you whispered. 

“You don’t really think-” 

“I do.” you stopped him, kissing his forehead. 

“I love you.” he shook his head, smiling with tears in his eyes. “I love you so much.”

Does everyone remember the episode of Doctor Who with Vincent Van Gogh in it? That’s my favorite episode and I’ve been in love with the character since the first time I watched it. Obviously, I loved Van Gogh’s art before I even started watching Doctor Who but I just really loved his character on the show. I’ve never seen any fanfiction for him but am I crazy? I always fall in love with minor characters. I don’t know why. 

~Request~

Does anyone else just really love him?

softyjihoon  asked:

how about 57 + jihoon/ woozi? i hope you don't mind, thank you.

 woozi, ‘is that my shirt’, i dont like cute stuff unless its about my soft child

the classical music which you somehow have on your (jihoon’s) spotify is somewhat addicting. usually the best place to listen too it is when you’re struggling to work or you need to concentrate whilst reading and there’s people around who really don’t know how to mute themselves. 

 getting lost in the violins is a great pass time, especially at night. you find yourself laid across the middle of the bed with a towel covering your hair and earbuds in to block out the rest of the world as you carry on reading the book that had been recommended to you as being something you have to read!

 so as you force yourself to go through another chapter whilst waiting for your boyfriend to come home, the world around you begins to get lost from your senses. you don’t even keep track of the time until there’s a chime of the clock on your wall to tell you that an hour has passed since you laid down and forgot about everything. 

 oh, and then there’s your boyfriend himself standing opposite the bed, staring at you like you’re the art from van gogh himself all the while still saying nothing to you. 

 you offer him the exact same silent treatment as he offered you, pulling out one earbud and keeping your eyes on his as he continues to scrutinize you silently from across the room. 

 ‘is that my shirt?’ he asks. 

 ‘good evening to you too!’ you say rather sarcastically, dropping you book to the side and sitting up every so slightly to become somewhat level with him. ‘why does it matter what i’m wearing?’

 jihoon narrows his eyes at your slight outburst and frowns. ‘i’m just asking if you’re wearing my shirt.’

 ‘well… yeah it is, but what’s the problem?’ you ask. his stare makes you a little more self concious than you were sure he planned to and you make the most of what you can to pull the bottom of his shirt - that you’d shamelessly stolen from his wardrobe when you got out of the shower - further down your legs.

 ‘there’s not a problem,’ jihoon tells you. he breaks his emotionless stance and smiles widely at you, taking a few steps towards the bed until he’s right next to it, then he takes a seat on the covers and chuckles a little and lets his head fall towards the ground. ‘you’re really cute, you know that?’

 you pout, still struggling to cover up as much of your body as you wanted to with his shirt. ‘i’m not cute. i just needed clothes to wear.’

 ‘still cute though,’ jihoon tells you. he takes his time to move forward on the bed and plants one of his signiture i’m really tired but what to show you affection kisses onto the side of your cheek, just missing your lips. 

 ‘how can i trust you on what you think is cute when you can’t even greet me in the evening?’ you ask, raising an eyebrow at jihoon. ‘i missed you and then you almost give me a heart attack because you’re just standing there staring at me? do you know no boundaries?’

 jihoon copies your expression almost exactly. ‘i was surprised by you looking so cute in my shirt. can’t i show adoration to the person i love by staring at them in awe of their perfection that’s reflected from their clothing choice?’

 ‘i just needed to find some clothes, let me live,’ you mumble, laying back down on the bed in frustration for the complete over-reaction from your boyfriend. it was a great summary of your relationship; improve 24/7.

 ‘and you wore mine, that’s cute,’ he assures you again, reaching forward and tapping the tip of your nose. ‘now you know what its like when you call me cute. we’re both cute now, face it.’

Ice Cream and Van Gogh - Jason Todd x Reader

@nightwing-rules asks: “Can I request a story where Jason and his S/o spend some good quality time on his day off?” I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: swearing


                Sun shines in from the small window in your bedroom. It’s a welcome feeling, there aren’t many sunny days in Gotham, you rarely ever feel the sun on your skin. Turning around you look at your boyfriend Jason. He’s pure perfection in this moment, his face is peaceful, not worried or preoccupied for once in a long, long time. The white streak in his messy hair looks yellow due to the glow of the sun in the room, and you wish you could run your hands through it, but you knew that he needed rest. It wasn’t often that Jason got a day off, so you decided to let him sleep as long as he wanted, although you did have some plans for today.

            “You know, it’s not polite to stare Y/N.” Jason murmured, his morning voice holding the most beautiful gravelly tone. You chuckle, because of course he doesn’t say good morning, or that he loves you, he reprimands you for staring. Things like that were one of the many reasons you loved him though.

            “Well then Jaybird, don’t be so beautiful and I won’t be so impolite.” You replied, running your fingers through his hair as you did. Your eyes may have deceived you, but you could’ve sworn that he was blushing as he buried his head in the pillow. “C’mon love, if you’re awake we have to get going.” You urge him, slightly tugging on his arm.

            “Why? Can’t we just lay in bed all day and do nothing? I haven’t done nothing in forever.” Jason whines, turning his head to face you. You contemplate his request, he really hadn’t done nothing in forever, but what you had planned was better than nothing, as least in your opinion. Maybe a bit of persuasion would convince him to get up…

            “Well, I had plans for us today baby, and the first item on the list was supposed to be ice cream and breakfast from IHOP but, if you really wanna stay here…” You trail off, waiting to see his reaction. And it doesn’t disappoint. Jason whips his head up from the pillow, mouth open slightly and eyes wide as saucers from what you think is disbelief.

            “We can get ice cream before breakfast?” He asks, still in shock. “Well, I was thinking ice cream during breakfast. You know, like we order pancakes and ice at the same time, and then we take turns eating both?” You answer, smiling at the man who had basically just turned into a child in front of you. Your play to get him to do anything was ice cream, Jason really, really, loves ice cream.

            “Okay let’s go, let’s go, hurry up and let’s go!” Jason exclaims, jumping up from the bed and rushing to grab some clothes from the closet you two shared. His reaction made you go into a laughing fit, because here was this 6’4, extremely well-built man, who also happen to be the Red Hood, and he was jumping about the house at the promise of ice cream. He was really just a living, breathing contradiction and you loved it.

            “Oh Jesus, this is the best idea you’ve had in a long time.” Jason moans through a mouthful of strawberry ice cream and blueberry pancakes. You giggle, watching as he puts a scoop of the ice cream into a slice of the pancake, making a sandwich of sorts, before he stabs the thing with his fork and eats it. You had opted for a less complicated way of combining the two foods that Jason had labeled as “God’s gift to this wretched world”. Your method was taking a bite of the pancake, then shoveling a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth.

            “Thanks, I figured you’d enjoy it. Oh and if you want a small tip on how to make the pancakes even more, how should I put this, ice creamy? Well, if you’d like them more ice creamy spread a small piece across the pancake, sort of how you would with butter.” You suggest, as you steal a spoonful of his strawberry ice cream. You had gotten pumpkin spice ice cream as an experiment, against Jason’s advice, and it didn’t end well, so here you were stealing your lovely boyfriend’s strawberry ice cream.

            “That’s genius, I’m gonna try it.” Jason mutters, concentrating now on spreading the ice cream along the pancake. He was so cute, actually he was downright adorable (a/n someone please get this reference I had to add it), and you were absolutely loving that you got to see him in this little puppy dog state, you knew it was a privilege no one else got.

As breakfast came to a close, you ticked it off the list that you had made on your phone. Up next was something you knew he’d love, he always was a bit of an art nerd…


            “Please tell me why the fuck I’m blindfolded. I don’t exactly have pleasant memories of this.” Jason grumbles, as you two drive down to New York City. Well he didn’t know where you were going, hence the blindfold. Really, you didn’t want to have to blind him, but he was too damn stubborn to just keep his eyes closed, so you did what you had to do.

            “You’re blindfolded because I have a surprise for you, and I know you don’t have particularly great memories of being blindfolded but you trust me right?” you pause, awaiting his response, which you got with a nod, “Well, then you’ll know that I’m only doing this to make your day off special, ok?” You finish, squeezing his hand a bit so that he knew you were there.

            About 30 minutes later you arrived at your destination. “Okay Jay, hey that rhymed, okay anyways you can take off the blindfold now.” You exclaim, excitement coursing through you. Jason rushes to take off the blindfold, and when he finally gets it off and sees where you are he replicates the mouth agape, wide saucer eyes, shock look from earlier. Pride filled you, seeing that he was excited about what you guys were doing.

            “You-you brought me to the Metropolitan Museum of Art?” Jason stutters, eyes still wide. You nod in confirmation, smiling widely as you look at your awestruck boyfriend. “Well, c’mon Jay let’s go!” You yell, as you drag him out of the car.

(Time skip cause the Metropolitan Museum of Art is huge and writing that out would make this a book)

            The sun had already set when you guys exited the museum, that place was huge and there was so much art to see. You and Jay had gotten into debates and deep conversations over the meaning of some of the works, and all in all it was a really amazing experience. However, the talks had taken a, ahem…strange turn.

            “Listen, babe I’m just saying I would cut off my ear for you too!” Jason exasperates, as you both get in the car. “Okay, but Jason Van Gogh literally sent the ear to his lover as a gift. How the hell does that work?” You respond, equally as exasperated. “Yeah well, I can’t explain that but let’s focus on the fact that he went through that pain for her! That’s the sign of true love.” He concludes, trying to persuade you to agree. “Fine, but Jay, please don’t cut off your ear and send it to me.” You jokingly plead, starting up the car to head back to Gotham and enjoy the rest of Jason’s time off relaxing.

            “I’m not making any promises.” Jason mutters, causing you both to laugh a bit as you continue to discuss famous works of art for the entire drive home.

Paintings and Ramblings

Word Count: 3k (you’re welcome)

Author’s Note: thanks to my lovely friend @galaxayy for giving me this great idea for a Peter fic. at first i thought i could nail it but i couldn’t. until earlier throughout the week i wrote a little bit each day until finally my mind suddenly bursted with ideas and couldn’t keep track with the amount of words i was writing. i really hope you enjoy! i loved writing this one out.

Summary: In which you thoroughly enjoy art and Peter keeps that in mind before asking you out.

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anonymous asked:

McKirk AU in which they are both huge art nerds and meet at an art museum

  • Jim likes to sit quietly on one of the comfortable benches that overlooks this giant 20th century painting. His life is so busy as it is, and Jim is so easily distracted; his mind easily moving from one thing to the next. Except in the art museum in DC. He can just sit with his notebook, quietly redrawing the paintings. He’s not necessarily good at it at all, but at least no one bothers him.  That, and the museum is also a great place to pick up people.
  • But Leonard draws his peace to a quick end. He just walks in with a big fake smile, surrounded by tourists. He talks about the origin of the paintings in the room, blissful southern tone to his voice. It instantly catches Jim’s attention. He’s no longer paying attention to his own drawing. Instead, he’s listening to the guy. He follows the group of visitors and tourists, mostly because he’s interested in whatever else this guy - Leonard, according to his name tag - has to say about the numerous paintings around. He answers all of the questions too, even the real stupid ones. 
  • “You’re not a paying customer,” Leonard tells Jim, and Jim grins a little. “I have a museum pass, I don’t need to pay.” “You need to pay for guided tours,” Leonard points out, “I saw you were sitting near the Experience America exhibition before you joined us.” Jim’s lips tug into a grin. “So you paid attention to me?” Leonard huffs. “Maybe,” he replies, and Jim quirks up his eyebrows, lips tugging into a smirk. “Well, then maybe you should let me pay you a drink.”
  • Their first date is in the museum cafe. They drink a coffee; Jim explains he’s just there to draw and relax. During the day he’s in college, and at night he’s working in a bar. Saturdays in the museum is like his hour long sanctuary. Leonard’s working there only part time. He’s only just moved into the city. Total art nerd, with a hobby gone way out of hand, and he’s given up his medical career to focus on art instead.
  • Their second date, Jim takes him to a different museum. Turns out, Leonard wasn’t exaggerating when he said he knew a lot about art and art history, because Leonard ends up lecturing him on Dali. He uses that same, thick southern accent when he talks to Jim. Jim falls in love with that accent before he even realizes he’s falling for that guy, too.
  • They go out to a game, and both enjoy a stadium hot dog while yelling for no team in particular. Despite that, they do end up in that art museum again. Jim sits on his usual bench, overlooking the giant painting, and he’s just sketching while listening to Leonard talk about the new exhibition that’s opening soon. And Jim leans in to kiss him - totally distracted again, as usual, because kissing Leonard is much nicer than that large painting he’s trying to redraw. Kissing Leonard surprises the two of them, but Jim only leans in for more and Leonard doesn’t mind at all. 
  • And Leonard drags him into the museum bathroom, pushing him up against the wall while Jim’s wraps both his arms around Leonard’s shoulders. "In the bathroom, really?“ Jim laughs, breathless against Leonard’s lips, but he’s definitely not stopping Leonard when his hands slide under his shirt. His fingers trail down over Jim’s chest and his stomach, ready to push the Jim’s pants down.
  • Jim certainly visits Leonard in the museum more often. He still hasn’t paid for one of Leonard’s guided tours, but he’s somehow on almost all of them. He counters Leonard with tricky questions, and Leonard counters him with clever answers. 
  • As much of a genius Jim is, he definitely struggles concentrating sometimes. And so Leonard helps him study. As distracting as Leonard is himself, he has this system that means a lot of making out after every successful chapter and test exam. 
  • Jim finds himself not even really being interested in other people. He doesn’t need to; he’s got his fill for attention and affection from just one person, and that’s just such a foreign concept to Jim, but somehow this feels good. Comfortable. That doesn’t mean that he’s not a little intimidated when Leonard asks if he wants to join him to Amsterdam because he wants to visit the Van Gogh- and the Rijksmuseum. Holidays together is serious thing, and Jim’s never been serious. It’s terrifying, and Jim doesn’t even know how to respond. “You can say no,” Leonard says, and Jim frowns a little. “No, I’d love to go, but I’m thinking-” “Too much too fast?” Leonard asks, and Jim hates justh ow well Leonard can read his mind. “It’s okay,” Leonard says, “I know about your emotional constipation.” “Hey,” Jim huffs, but he smiles - even more so when Leonard still kisses him, and doesn’t hold anything against him.
  • But when Leonard is gone, Jim is miserable. Because Jim is alone, and Leonard is traveling to Amsterdam, Brussels, and Paris, to visit the continent’s rich history in arts. Definitely something Jim wants to experience, and definitely together with Leonard. “You are such an idiot,” Uhura points out with a smirk, as Jim sits next to her on the couch and quietly munching on popcorn. “What, since when?” “Since you’re sitting here watching stupid movies,” Uhura replies, “while you’re boyfriend’s off to exciting cities.” “He’s not my boyfriend.” “Jim.” “What? He’s not. Is he? You think he is?” Uhura rolls her eyes and doesn’t reply, letting Jim think this over a little longer. “I can’t just go to Amsterdam,” Jim argues eventually. 
  • An insane number of people on bikes just ride through traffic and that looks both terrifying and thrilling enough for Jim to want to try that out at least once. He’s tracking Leonard’s phone past cozy canals with houseboats; the sweet smell of weed on street corners surprisingly pleasant. And he finds Leonard outside the Van Gogh museum, surprising him by suddenly showing up next to him and kissing his cheek, which mostly ends up with Jim getting punched in the face by a startled Leonard. “Jim,” Leonard says, grabbing Jim’s arms and holding on to him. “What are you doing here?” “I came here to go to these museums with you,” Jim says, rubbing his cheek.
  • And Leonard leans in to kiss him, arms sliding around his waist. “How long are you staying?” Leonard asks, and Jim grins. “At least a week.” “Alright, let’s go,” Leonard says, dragging him away from the museum queue. “What about Van Gogh?” Jim asks, following Leonard. “Van Gogh will be there tomorrow. I missed you more than a few paintings.” Leonard says, and Jim laughs, pulling Leonard in for another kiss. “Let’s Gogh.”

Another blurb for featuringluke! I live for college!5sos not gonna lie 😍

Sitting on your bed with your boyfriend art student!ashton, listening intently while he rambles about different artists like Vincent Van Gogh or Claude Monet, providing a detailed history and proof of how much they contributed to art culture today. He’s wearing a ripped t-shirt and a pair of black basketball shorts, his hair pulled up into a bun and a pair of glasses framing his face. The whole while, he’s drawing in his sketchbook, facing the pad away from you so you can’t catch a glimpse of his work.

It’s always been like this. You have access to everything about Ashton…except his sketchbook. He claims it’s personal and he isn’t ready to share anything yet, and you respect his wishes.

But when Ashton stands abruptly, announcing lightly that he’s going to the washroom and that he’ll be right back, your loyalty wavers and temptation nips at your thoughts. Once you hear his footsteps recede, you pounce on the sketchbook, flipping through it quickly but quietly.

What you see takes your breath away. On each page is a drawing of you–but not always your face. There is a full head-shot, followed by a messy yet talented sketch of your hands–you would recognize your pinky ring anywhere. He’s drawn your hair, capturing the texture perfectly, drawn your lips, your eyes.

You run your fingers over the sketches, the coarse pencil lines and the gentle shading, your lips kinking up into a small smile. Ashton’s signed each piece at the bottom in his familiar cursive, as well as jotting your name down under his, never failing to place a heart at the end.

Your lips purse as you feel a warm eruption in your chest, but suddenly you hear the toilet flush from down the hall.

Quickly, you shut the sketchbook and place it back onto the bed, positioning it as it was previously. Ashton walks back into the room, shooting you a small smile as he settles back down onto your comfortable duvet. You grin back, and he looks at you, “Why are you so smiley all of a sudden?”

You shrug, biting your lip to contain yourself, “I just really love you, you know?”

Ashton blushes faintly and sets his sketchbook to the side, removing his glasses and crawling over to you, placing a soft peck on your lips. “You know,” he murmured, “Van Gogh may’ve had a huge impact on art, but every artist has their muse.”

“Yeah?” You giggled, falling back into the bed and winding your arms around his neck.

“Yeah,” he confirms, pressing another longer kiss to your lips before pulling back, “And you’re mine.”

Why do you always call me Sunflower?” We’ve been a couple for months and ever since the day we became ‘official’ as they say nowadays, Sunflower has been his go to nickname for me. Not that I’m complaining, I love the cute little name and every time the word slips from his mouth I get butterflies.
“Because,” he nervously began “uhh because they’re my favorite flower.” It sounded more like a question than a statement to me.
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.” He was quick to defend.
“I believe you that they’re your favorite flower but that’s not why you call me it, is it?” I’ve got plenty of favorite things but you don’t see me going around calling him “Pizza” or “Perks of Being a Wallflower.”
“Not entirely.” He looks nervous. I had no idea bringing up something he so often says would be this difficult to get out of him.
“So, are you gonna tell me? I mean, you do use that name in reference to me.” I raised an eyebrow with that one. The more nervous he got, the more intrigued I was.
“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you but it’s kind of embarrassing so no making fun of me.” Finally.
“No promises.” I said with a smirk and a certain gleam in my eye to ease him of his discomfort.
“So there’s this painting in a museum nearby, and it’s by that guy Van Gogh, the one that went mental and cut off his ear, remember?” Okay so this isn’t going where I thought it would, I had been picturing the meaning behind the simple word to be romantic. “So as I said, there’s this painting and it’s these giant sunflowers.”
“Yeah, The Sunflower, I remember it.” Not quite sure if he’s aware that the actual painting is called that.
“Well the first time I saw it, I couldn’t get it out of my head. It was stuck in my mind like when you hear a catchy song on the radio, just replaying itself over and over in my brain. Every time I went back to visit, I found something new about the painting. Whether it was the colors or the texture or the technique, I don’t know I just became intrigued with it, I was fascinated by these painted flowers sitting in a painted vase,” Wow, I had no idea my boyfriend paid so much attention to things, let along art. “And one day, I saw you and just like the painting, you were stuck in my head replaying over and over. I had no idea why, I’ve never seen you before, I didn’t even know your name,” okay we’re getting on the romantic track that I had hoped for. “After that day I saw you, I went back to look at the painting. I sat there for hours trying to figure out why I couldn’t get you out of my brain. All I wanted to do was touch that big curly hair and stare into those blue eyes with a ring of emerald around the pupil. I drove myself mad sitting there that I nearly started to hate your hair, that I love so much. I had to know you, I had to figure you out. After a few weeks of us becoming friends and me terribly failing to flirt with you,” I had to stifle a giggle there, he was pretty bad at flirting. His charm has its days but it’s definitely the lip ring that got me. “I went back to the museum, I sat there wondering how I could impress you and wondering why I was so drawn to these damn flowers. And then I figured it out. The painting wasn’t meant for me to relate to like I had thought it was, it was meant for you. The colors are like your eyes and those crazy color lipsticks, and when they fade into another one it’s like your moods. Some times I would stare at the painting and I would see the yellow and think it was a happy painting, but then I would go back another day and I would see the browns and the dark blues. You’re like that, too. Some days your smiling for no reason and others it kills me to see the sadness in your eyes and know there’s nothing I can do about it. I sat at the museum for weeks trying to convince myself that I was nothing like Van Gogh, he was mental, what could we possibly have in common? But now I see it, I went mental sitting there trying to figure you out. You are the painting, and that’s why I call you Sunflower.” He finished his explanation, took a deep breath and cautiously looked up waiting for my response.
“Don’t do that.” I had no idea what my face looked like and I’m scared that I offended him, but those are the only words I can form properly. I want to tell him how sweet and romantic that was, sweet enough that I could start bawling right now. But I can’t.
“Don’t do what?” The nervousness is back and I advert my eyes but I don’t know where to look.
“Don’t think of me as a masterpiece.” I paused for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts and form an actual response. “That painting is beautiful and a true work of art, and although being compared to is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, I can’t allow you to think of me as a masterpiece. You were right about my moods, I’m no where near perfect, nor a masterpiece. That work of art has more beauty in a square centimeter of the canvas than I do in my whole body. I cannot allow you to think of me as that when all I’ll do is let you down when you realize that my changing colors are more drastic than the flowers and my dark corners may last days and I don’t know why either. I’m not a masterpiece and I can’t change to be one for you, and I won’t be able to live with myself if I ever let you down.” It was complete honesty what I said. I’d rather die than let him down, it would hurt too much knowing that he thought I was so much more than I actually am. It’s getting hard to breathe in this tiny room and I can’t look up to meet his eyes because I’ll start crying.
“You don’t get it, do you? You are art. I look at you and I don’t see a masterpiece, I see you. The good days, the bad days, and everything in between. That’s what I love about you. That’s the only masterpiece I could ever imagine. Sure, Van Gogh painted some pretty sunflowers but I would bet you my house that he could never paint something as beautiful as you. He doesn’t know where to put the yellow or the brown, he doesn’t know that you prefer tea over coffee, but if it was an option you would have hot chocolate every morning instead. He doesn’t know you like to read a book in a day or less or that you don’t have a favorite movie. I don’t want you to change to be perfect, because to me you are. That sounds super cheesy, I know. But it’s true, those flowers aren’t perfect either, maybe they’re worth a lot of money and hanging in a museum but it’s not a perfect flower that you would pick out of a garden. That’s why it’s a masterpiece. That’s why I love you like the Sunflower. That’s why Van Gogh and I have a lot more in common than you would think.” He finished and I let go of a breath that I didn’t know I was keeping. I could melt into a puddle on the floor right now.
“So, Sunflower, was that a good explanation?
—  coveredinthecolour
*Trigger Warning* Failed Masterpiece

Summary: You are being haunted by dark thoughts in your head and you act on impulse.
Type: Angst, *Trigger Warning* Self-Harm
Length: 2128 Words
Members: Jungkook x Reader (reader focus)

Sorry guys, I just don’t have time to write a request oTL I need to focus on my studies and lab report, I promise requests will be back on Friday!

This is actually the writing I attached to my application for the admin position. I wrote this over a course of two or three hours while on my trip in Malaysia and I was feeling homesick and gross and disgusting in general (and some bits of it apply to me but most of it does not).

- Admin Au ( u x u )

Originally posted by monchims

You don’t know what time it is when you drift from the bedroom to the living room, you can only register that the purple hues swept across the beginning of the sky, blending into watercolor oranges and reds are connected to ‘evening’. The scarlets are just as pretty as the red of my blood, you tell yourself, then remember that you can’t account for this - after all, you are too scared to make art of your skin, too scared to even imagine your canvas turn into a bloody masterpiece. Could it even be called art at all? Your eyes flicker to the walls covered with paintings bought from the shop two miles away - Monet, van Gogh, other artists whose names will be lost in history - and you agree with your subconscious. Anything you create will never be good enough, not even if you used your tears to mix with blood as paint, your torn-out hair as the tips of brushes.

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Window Seat

Reid x Reader

Dr. Spencer Reid is a man of particulars. Just about everything in his life can be neatly categorized, defined by his preferences. There’s his favorite shop to buy coffee from, his favorite way to order coffee (with three packets of sugar and extra whipped cream), his favorite station to catch the Metro from, and his favorite Indian restaurant just off 3rd Street. The most important of these however, is the library. He’s a frequent visitor to the DC Public Library, and in his many years of patronage, he has determined the exact best place to sit and read. The overstuffed armchair is older, worn, making it a little more comfortable to sit on. Unlike the other chairs, this one has long since been tucked away behind a bookshelf, out of the way. Most library-goers don’t even notice it. That side of the bookshelf is empty, making it perfect for kicking up one’s feet on, or balancing books – or even case files – on. The window just above the chair is at an angle so that it offers the perfect amount of sunlight to read by, but doesn’t create a glare. Never has he had to vie with anyone else for it, the armchair is always empty, waiting for him.

Until today.

He stops in his tracks when he turns the corner and finds his favorite place occupied by a young woman. A hefty stack of books is on the floor beside her, making it clear she doesn’t intend on vacating the spot anytime soon. Reid is aghast, shocked that someone else has discovered that the out-of-the-way seat is precisely perfect. He’s irritated, but there’s nothing he can do. He takes a seat in a nearby, lesser, chair, and tries to relax. Every now and then he swears he can see the woman looking his way. Smiling. Gloating.

The next time he goes to the library, he arrives a whole hour than he usually does, deciding to forgo his usual evening coffee run. The lack of caffeine is worth it when he finds the armchair open, and he has to stop himself from practically running over to it. Each of the ten books he’s brought are lined up on the shelf, and Reid settles in happily to claim his rightful place in the library. Not twenty minutes later does he hear footsteps making their way over, and then abruptly stopping. Sure enough, when he looks up, it’s her again.

Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he wonders if she recognizes him as well. The woman looks him over once, and then sits down in the same chair he was relegated to previously. When she’s engrossed with her book, Reid peers her way. If he’s going to have regular territorial disputes over the armchair, he ought to know his enemy. She looks to be around his age, in her late twenties or early thirties. The cardigan hanging loosely from her shoulders is at least two sizes too big for her, and her hair is thrown up in a loose bun, rogue strands falling past her ears. Her backpack gives no indication what her profession might be, nor does her dress, but he can make out the titles of the books she has with her.

The World History of Street Art and Graffiti. Art Spiegalman’s The Complete Maus. The Letters of Vincent Van Gogh. Love in the Time of Cholera. Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

The variety doesn’t help him. Is she an artist? A historian? An English major? Or just someone with widely varied tastes in reading material? All he is certain of is that she doesn’t read as fast as he does. Then again, nobody reads as fast as he does.

Two times the following week, he sees her. The first time, he has the chair. The second, she has beat him to it, offering him a smirk when he arrives. The second time is different though. The woman leaves five minutes before the library closes, though she’s previously stayed the entire time. When he walks towards the doors himself, the library whispers his name. All the librarians seem to know him by now.

“I have something for you,” says the gray-haired woman. Her spectacles hang from a beaded lanyard, swinging back and forth as she goes to get something from the back desk. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but somehow he’s surprised to see it is a book. And not just any book. Resurrection, one of the few Tolstoy works he hasn’t read. Today alone he finished re-reading War and Peace and The Death of Ivan Ilych. “I was told to let you know it’s ‘from the young lady who also enjoys the window seat.’ I’ve already checked it out on your card.”

Had she been looking at his reading selections as well? He’s stunned by the gesture. “Thanks Mrs. Atkinson,” he says, adding the book to his messenger bag. It is finished by the next morning, and he has to admit, the woman has good taste.

The pattern continues with each meeting. When he claims the chair next, he asks the librarian to give her the copy of IQ84, as she’d nearly finished The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and the expressions on her face as she read told him she was quite a fan of Murakami’s writing. They pass books back and forth via librarians, like some new form of the pony express. Or perhaps it’s more like carrier pigeons.

A week and a half later, he’s startled to find she seems to have broken off the communication, when she fails to leave him something the day she beats him to the window seat. But when comes back the next day, he discovers she has merely found a new way to talk. The book is sitting on the empty bookshelf, a notecard on top of it.

It says: I thought I would give our librarians a break, but here’s your consolation prize for getting here after me. It’s about a boy trying to solve a mystery, and his interests are as varied as the sorts of books you read.

Reid picks up the novel, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, by Jonathan Safran Foer. Never has he read it before, but twenty minutes later he wonders how he could’ve possibly missed this book. It’s only then, when he finishes it, that he looks up and realizes that the woman he’s come to think of as Library Girl is watching him with a smile. He wants to wave, but is that allowed? They’ve never exactly acknowledged the presence of the other, save for trading books and silently fighting over the chair. In a compromise, he gives her a small smile, and returns to his reading, all the while wondering what to leave for her this time.

What began as an inconvenience has now become some sort of amusing competition. Every time he goes to the library, he finds himself excited. Will he get there first? Or will she? What book will she leave him this time? What will she think of the one he last left for her? At this point now, that friendly competition feels something like a friendship as well. He doesn’t feel peeved at the prospect of sitting somewhere else, and after going to the library. What once was a crucial part of his routine now takes a backseat to this new occurrence.

Studying her is like reading a novel, and in a way he supposes they are becoming a story of their own. Book after book left like an offering on an empty bookshelf, little notes scrawled from a stranger. Funny, kind, sincere, sweet; a wide range of moods can be found on those little messages, and he remembers each one. The same way he has catalogued every dress and cardigan he’s seen her in, memorized her little habits and quirks, created a mental library of the books and genres she loves the best. Does she read him the same way? Some days he looks up and finds her quickly averting her gaze, or will notice her throwing him one last glance before she leaves. And in those moments, he thinks he sees something like longing. As though these little trades are no longer enough for her, as though she’s considering saying hello to him the same way he’s imagined doing so a thousand times.

Perhaps the most interesting of their exchanges comes after he leaves her Ulysses, assuming the classic will keep her busy for a while. When it’s her turn to leave a book, he finds one from the art section. Postsecret: Confessions on Life, Death, and God. The note attached tells him it’s one of her favorites, and she hopes he will find it interesting. And he does. The concept is fascinating, all of these people mailing their secrets to a stranger on the back of a postcard. It’s the ultimate anonymous confession, nobody needs to know who it’s from or exactly what it means. Aren’t these confessions, in a way? They’re baring their souls to each other in the form of their favorite literature.

What would her secrets be? What is she like? What makes her laugh, what makes her cry? He wants to know, wants to have more to profile than just books and behavior. He wants conversations, wants long talks and honesty and her name.

Reid resolves to finally speak to her. But the next time he’s there, she isn’t. An hour passes. Two. The library closes, and she doesn’t show up. Already he’s confused. In four months, she has never been absent. Every Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday, she is there at the library. Perhaps, he thinks, something came up. Perhaps she is on vacation, out with friends, sick, staying late at work. It’s only one day. Nothing to worry about.

But on Saturday she’s missing as well. Reid stays there for six hours, and she doesn’t show. Now he’s worried. The next week, he goes to the library every single day. Every evening after work, he sits and waits for her. Always leaving the armchair by the window open. This is one point he’s willing to concede, bargaining with the universe, hoping that if he gives up that chair, maybe tonight will be the night she comes back.

She doesn’t. A second week passes, and he’s terrified for this stranger, this woman whose name he doesn’t even know. Why didn’t he ask for her name? Why? Because now she’s gone and he might never get a chance to ask. Not once has she missed a single one of their thrice-weekly library encounters. What’s happened? Being a profiler, his mind immediately jumps to the worst of conclusions. She was abducted on her way home from work. She’s being held in a psychopath’s basement, chained to a wall. She was murdered by a sexual sadist. Shot. Strangled. Dismembered and tossed into the Potomac River.

No, statistically those things are far less likely. That’s what he reminds himself of. She’s probably just busy. Maybe she’s going to a different library. Maybe she just doesn’t want to see him again. But he can’t shake a sense of foreboding, because whenever he finds something that makes him happy, it’s snatched away from him without warning. And this person was definitely beginning to make him happy. In the smallest of ways, the smallest of joys.

Now she too is gone. Reid is tempted to ask the team for help, plead with Garcia to track this woman down. What is he supposed to say? I’ve been meeting with this girl three times a week at the library. We’ve never even talked, and I don’t’ now her name or what she does or where she lives, but she hasn’t been to the library this week and I’m worried something is wrong. That would be ridiculous. There is no proof, no evidence, nothing to go off of. Other than her notes, he has no way to prove she even exists. Can he even call Library Girl his friend? They feel like friends. He knows what books she loves, that she will read just about anything, that she notices the people around her. She sometimes takes notes between pages, writes in a little red journal, smiles to herself from time to time.

But he doesn’t know her, not really. It’s best to forget about her, to move on and assume that nothing out of the ordinary has happened. People leave all the time. They don’t all keep coming back to the same chair in the same place for months on end. Reid tells himself it doesn’t matter. Besides, he’s unconventional… relationships… before, and they never end well. This isn’t even a relationship. It’s just two people who happen to share a preference for the same things.

But then why does he want to see her again? And where has she gone?