He Would 100% Do This - Tumblr Posts

Cardan: Do you want to see a butterfly? Leander: Yes Taryn and Oriana: NO! Cardan: *throws the butter across the table* Oak: Fucking majestic

This is my dead girl walking.

oh my goodness, this is beautiful :((

#! — [ camellia ] hwang hyunjin

— gn!reader // sfw // i've been to a monet exhbition and it made me write this (to be loved by an artist huh)

"I never knew I had a mole there."

"It's my favourite one on you."

A painting of your nude back, and you inspected it with careful eyes. Hyunjin had always had a talent of capturing the mundane, in art or photography as much as in every day life - he loved pointing out the simplicity of a sunset when hand in hand on a walk with you, or how a bee would sit silently on a flower before it made its' journey to the next one; things you'd had never learned to notice if he hadn't had tought you.

The painting was breathtaking. Not life-size - Hyunjin confessed he didn't have the courage for such challenges yet - though it was big; and on the white canvas, against a brown underwash blooming features of you, in most detail. Hyunjin had painted every of your pore, your every roll which had folded on your back when you had craned your neck to look at the artist who had been trying to capture the beauty you bore, right after waking up a morning - he had drawn every mole which adorned your body, as pale and small it was, because he knew each of them by heart, had added most of them from memory. And you've never been aware of it. You've never noticed that his kisses, each and every night anew, walked the same path across your body, travelling up and down the constellations on your skin, memorizing every brown mark, every pale freckle. That his fingers would instinctly find the same spots on your skin to absentmindendly caress while laying together entangled, that he lit up whenever a new mark bloomed on your body to dote on, to love. You never even knew he had a favourite one - a favourite mole, how absurd it was. And yet how teary-eyed you grew from his confession.

You eyed the painted mole by the small of your back, a tiny dot on paint-laid canvas, yet it held the world within. Unnoticed if shown to anyone else - though most sacred artifact for you, his model and muse, his lover for eternity.

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