yawnzbf-shifted - Tumblr blog

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new post on @yawnzbf please check it out and let me know if you all like it!

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!ANNOUNCEMENT!

Moving this blog under another e-mail, sorry to leave too soon! I hope you all will find me quickly!!

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https://www.tumblr.com/yawnzbf/736342111001231360/love-an-artist-who-used-to-paint-his-muse?source=share This was a cute fic! also I'd recommend using more tags so more male readers can see it :) Like "kpop x male reader" and "beomgyu x male reader"

Omg thank you for the suggestion! And I'm glad you liked the little fic !

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Listed here are all up to date links to my works..!

⚝ TXT

LOVE?

PRINCE?

⚝ ORV

Yet to come...!

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hello hello

This is a certified moablr + orvblr , I am not new to Tumblr but wanted to start anew! Hope we all get along !

This is a male/gn reader space!

M.list

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⚝ PRINCE?

Commoner yn helps his prince to hide from guards in the process something blossoms in between

500+ words

Yn’s muscles burned with exhaustion as he rested himself against the wall with the prince of Celestria.

The prince was breathing heavily, his royal dress muddy and tattered at places because of their ‘great escape’. The prince places a hand on his companion for the day hoping the guards don’t find him.

“Any louder now why don’t you?” the civilian throws a glare at the royal. “Would you personally like me to call them over here, your highness?”

“How dare you speak to me in such a way?” the prince says exasperated. “I could have your head for this, commoner!”

“shut up!” yn says hurriedly at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Excuse m-” the royal was cut of by yn as he clamps his hand over the prince’s mouth, eyes wide with nervousness searching his.

“shh, your highness! This maybe a violation but I certainly don’t lust for an early death” yn whispers, his hand never leaves as they both listen for incoming guards.

The prince looks up at yn heart pounding suddenly. Was it the lack of breath or the close proximity between the two?

"something wrong my prince?"

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⚝ LOVE?

An artist who used to paint his muse, answers the questions of a curious journalist

600+ words

“I heard you only paint those whom you love, is that true?” the journalist asks away in awe as she admires the only unfinished painting among a clutter of finished pieces, sticking out like a sore thumb.

Though it was the very same muse for all the paintings, each of them varied from each other. It was almost impossible for her to grasp how and why they seemed so different?

Maybe it was the brushstrokes that made the difference or perhaps the lighting? She questioned herself. Even with these complications, one thing was clear whoever it was captured in those creations could only be described with one word- ethereal.

Ms. Julia was so absorbed in the sightseeing, she didn’t realize that she had unintentionally crossed into the artist's personal space. The said artist looked up, a small smile playing on his lips.

“ah miss Julia, an interesting question indeed. It is true I only paint those whom I have loved. You see love is a very amusing emotion- at least for me and to understand that very thing I immerse myself in the act of capturing it on canvas,” yn explained with a distant look in his eyes.

 

The journalist notes it down in her notebook hurriedly. Prying eyes of the artist take a notice of this as he settles back down by his most recent- unfinished piece.

“There is no need to hurry miss, if you want I can wait for you to jot it down before I continue” yn offers feeling bad for the corporate worker.

“oh! Mr. Ln, I wouldn’t want that, I’ve already prolonged my stay here for the interview. But if I may dare, could I ask why this unfinished painting is kept along with the finished ones?” Julia expresses her curiosity.

Yn remains silent for a second too long in thought of how to answer the question. Julia suddenly feels as if she crossed the lines once again by asking her client a personal question.

“If you don’t want to answer that’s fine by me! Sir!” she utters out panicked.

“It isn’t as if I don’t want to, rather I find it difficult how to answer your question miss” yn answers which somehow calms the journalist’s nerves down.

“then, maybe is this person the one whom you love?” she urges after all every person who knew about artist yn’s paintings had only seen one face over and over again until yn stopped.

A smile immediately graces the artist’s face, maybe even the mere thought of those memories.

“yes, these works you see miss Julia were made for the person whom I loved” yn replies.

“Loved?” Julia repeats in question.

Oh.

Oh.

“I’m sorry Mr. Ln. I was insensitive, is- is he dead?” She asks away feeling her heart break for the other.

Until, she hears laughter- pure and genuine. Yn’s laughter filled the studio, echoing like a melody that resonated with a bittersweet harmony.

“No need for apologies, Miss Julia. Your concern is appreciated, but no, he’s not gone.” Yn stops abruptly to catch his breath then continues.

“its just that while I was painting this unfinished piece you see, I realized that I had fallen out of love with my muse”

 Yn continued, his expression a mixture of introspection and acceptance.

Julia, absorbing the unexpected twist in the narrative, listened attentively as Yn shared his thoughts. “The unfinished painting embodies not just the enduring nature of love but also the vulnerability of human emotions. It became a mirror reflecting the changes in my heart, and I decided to leave it as a testament to that realization.”

Silence erupted between the two as the only noise that could be heard was the record player playing a melody.

“Is there anything else that plagues your mind missy?” yn teased.

“ah, no sir. I think I have troubled you enough today and it’s time for this interview to end as well, don’t you agree Mr. Yn?” yn smiled at the gesture as he lead his guest to the door.

Bidding her a farewell.