the gallery of lost art

Life Imitates Art

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut / Fluff / Angst (?)// Sub(ish)!Jungkook/ Art Student!Jungkook

Warnings:  graphic language/dirty talk, oral, cum play (if that’s what you’ll call it), masturbation, SLIGHT sub/dom dynamic

Word Count: 10.3K (bc I don’t know what pwp is)

Summary: A friendly favor for your crush develops into something truly sinful when you figure out his muse for his exhibition. 

a/n: only lightly edited b/c it’s 1:30 AM HAHA….this wasn’t supposed to be sub!(ish)JK but idk it just worked; still feel like I’m struggling w/ writing steamy dialogue but oh well. Enjoy! More work to hopefully come, slowly but surely. Please send feedback it’d be greatly appreciated!!! 

You grumbled all the way to the art gallery, adamant in your opposition to being dragged there by your roommate.

“Shut up, we’re already here. Are you going to brood the whole time?” Liz glared at you before pushing the glass doors open.

You’d pouted, clearly having lost the battle a long time ago. You settled on folding your arms defensively and letting out one last exasperated sigh. “Fine, but I still don’t know why you brought me here to begin with.”

Liz’s eyebrows shot up at the absurdity of the question, “You haven’t left the house for anything besides work and the occasional run. You’re starting to get boring, where’s fun Y/N?”

Her words only made you pout further because she was completely right-like most of the time despite your inability to admit it to her.

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Nine Things I Try to Do When I Feel Creatively Drained
  1. I declare a vacation. Usually about a week long. I don’t look at any of my work during that week.
  2. I get out my paper journal and pen and I write in it every day. I just brain-dump, all my complaints and worries and selfish egotistical thoughts. I’m writing to purge myself of the crap that has built up.
  3. And then I read. I read every day. I read in my genre for one story, and then outside of my genre for one story. I’ve been catching up on “great” modern novels this year, but I’ve also been reading historical fiction, mystery, romance, and YA. I catch book recommendations from Stephen King, who hasn’t steered me wrong yet.
  4. I write about what I’ve read. Just free-form stuff about what I like, don’t like, what it sparks in me. It’s all private so I can write whatever I really think; no one is going to look at it anyway
  5. I go out of my way to enjoy art. A gallery or museum visit, getting lost in the met’s website, I listen to genres of music I don’t usually listen to every day but still enjoy. I look for award winning or classic film, but if what I want to watch is Captain America, well then okay.
  6. I read nonfiction. I should read more nonfiction, but honestly I have to be interested or need it for future projects. I read biographies rarely, but I will read about a period of history or something on a subject that fascinates me.
  7. I listen to podcasts. There are literally thousands of them. google “podcast (subject) and you’re likely to find something.
  8. If I get an idea while i’m refilling, i will scribble it down in a bunny folder, but I won’t immediately leap on it to make a story. I need seven ideas for a story, so acting too quickly won’t help…
  9. …But if I get mugged by an idea, then I follow it. getting an idea is one thing. you can scribble it down and forget about it. but sometimes a story comes in and it’s like…I don’t know. an entity. it’s got a setting I can see and characters who were born like Athena and things are happening that I need to write down. There’s no room in my brain for anything else, and I’m compelled to record what I see. 

anonymous asked:

what is “ib”?

it’s an RPGmaker game where you’re a little girl lost in a haunted art gallery, you can look up more about it online but it’s one of my fave games it’s really creepy without being outright scary and there’s like 9 different endings you can get and it involves lots of my favourite things in creepy games aka dolls, flowers, and museums/galleries that come to life 8)


I don’t think I’ve shared this here yet, but my two animations, Forage and Really Lost, made it into our college’s student art gallery last term! I was amazed and excited that it got accepted, since it’s the first time the school has displayed an animation :)

Orange or apple juice? Ink or crayon? Sketchbook doodles or art galleries? Getting lost or reading a map? Open windows or blinds shut? Roller coasters or bumping cars? 3D movie or outdoor cinema? Swimming or tanning?

Painting The Sky

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader (Artist Taehyung)

Genre: Fluff with a little angst

Word count: 4,300

The first time you had seen him was at an art museum late in the afternoon. He had been standing there, staring at one painting for the past five minutes. Your curiosity had gotten the better of you and you found yourself moving to stand next to him, keeping a safe distance between the two of you. You looked at the painting that had caught his attention, trying to see what he saw. It was a famous painting, one that everyone knew. The Starry Night painted by the famous Vincent Van Gogh. You had never really been into art. The only reason you were at this museum was because your mom forced you to come, saying that you needed to get out of your house. You had wandered away from her long ago, frustrated that she took forever in museums. And now here you were, staring at a painting just because a stranger was staring at it too. Thinking of the stranger, you turned your head slightly to look at him. He was gone. Your body tensed as you cast your eyes around for the mysterious man. You didn’t know why but you were interested in why he was staring at the painting for so long.

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LE BELLE by the lost gallery

Vancouver Gothic
  • You arrive at the platform, just as the Millenium line train pulls away. The next two trains will be Expo lines. Two trains come and go. The next two trains will be Expo lines. The next two trains will always be Expo lines. You leave the platform to grab a coffee. You arrive at the platform just as the Millenium line train pulls away. 
  • It is raining. It is September and it is raining. It is January and it is raining. It is March and it is raining. It is raining. You remember sun. You remember it’s warmth on your face. It is May and it is raining. “I like the rain.” You whisper to yourself. “It keeps things green.” Someday you might believe it. It is June and it is raining. 
  • Your friends are doing the Grouse Grind. “Come with us,” they say, “it’ll be fun.” You smile and make your excuses. You will not see them again. The mountain takes what it wants. 
  • There is a rivalry between SFU and UBC. No one will say why. They laugh and say it is all in jest, but their eyes are haunted. They must choose a side, even if they never attended either school. It is all in jest. 
  • “We should go to the Art Gallery. Why haven’t we been yet?” You gather together, and go to the Art Gallery. You remember walking in. You remember walking out. You know that you paid. You do not remember what, only that it was valuable, and now it is lost to you forever. You do not know what you gained in the Art Gallery. You do not know what you lost. 
  • You have been to Granville Island. It is not truly an island. You can drive on, and you can drive off. You have done so before. Today, every corner you turn brings you back to the Market. You glance over your shoulder, checking that it is behind you, as you turn the corner. You face forward again, and stare forlornly at the Market. 
  • They say people live in Vancouver. They say the cost of living is 18$/hr. They say this is only true if you live in the downtown core. They say people live in Vancouver. You are from Burnaby. Your friends are from Langley. Your parents live in Coquitlam. They say people live in Vancouver. 
  • You get on the N9 bus. It is late, and you are tired. You’re getting off at Coquitlam station. If you close your eyes now, you will have plenty of time before you get there. Sleep. It will be fine. 
  • It is August and the land is dry and parched. The ground cracks beneath your feet. The grass withers in the parks. The tide has retreated. The beaches are filled with people. “Isn’t this nice.” They say. “This is what summer should be like.” They say. “It’s so nice out.” They say. Their lips crack as they speak, and their skin seem to shrivel. You wonder if you will ever feel cool again. 

copperbadge keeps reblogging these and i kept thinking i should do a vancouver one….


Beyond 2012, Doel, Belgium will only exist in pictures and memories. The tiny village is scheduled to be completely destroyed to make room for an expanding harbor, and even protest and the incredible street art in the abandoned town cannot stop the inevitable destruction.

For 700 years, Doel stood near Antwerp along the Scheldt River in Belgium. As Antwerp expanded in the 20th century, its port needed more space, and Doel quickly became a target for demolition. Trying to force residents out, the government scheduled demolitions multiple times, but were beaten by popular protests from the 1970s through the 1990s.

But despite the will of the people, Doel could not be saved and in 1999, the town was officially scheduled for complete demolition. Since that time, residents have trickled out, but artists have made their way in. As more of the town became abandoned, street artists from across Europe came and began to debut their works around Doel.

Today, there are fewer than 200 inhabitants left and they are scheduled to leave as soon as possible. The government plans to continue with demolition as soon as residents evacuate. Along with the homes of residents who were forced out, the living street art gallery of Doel will be lost forever.



<br /><i>Via Flickr:</i>
<br />Bernhard Osterman.